The camera pans down a row of heavily armoured men. Though their chests have ‘XWF’ printed in the smallest font legible, the symbol that dominates their apparel is a golden crown proudly dominating their vests, shoulders, and helmets.
Technically they are part of the ‘XWF Security Team.’
In reality, they are the ‘Kingsguard’, personal protectors of the King of the Universe, Kieran King.
And they are blocking Larry Tact's way.
Larry Tact: Do I really need to show my credentials?
Kingsguard Lieutenant: EVERYONE has to show their credentials.
Larry Tact: I even have a match tonight!
Kingsguard Lieutenant: Anyone could say that…
The Kingsguard member handed back some documentation to Tact.
Kingsguard Lieutenant: …But you're clear. The King will see you now.
The army parted and created a corridor of people guiding Tact through the Bank of Oklahoma Center. He funnelled out in front of a door that opened for him.
Stepping through, he was greeted by a long table covered with the most lavish feast! Meat, cheese, fruit, and desserts of all kinds were awaiting him!
And for all the food that was available, only four chairs were present.
In one sat Kristoffer “Vamp” Arroyo.
In another, Big D.
And at the head of the table, rising to greet Larry, was King Kieran himself.
King Kieran: Welcome, Lord Tact!
Kieran approached, beaming from ear to ear.
King Kieran: Welcome to the Royal Banquet—a feast fit for kings! And a king's most trusted allies!
He winked.
King Kieran: Come! Sit! Join the festivities! And get to know the men who you will be going to war with!
Kieran escorted Larry to his own chair before heading back to his own. Larry glanced from side to side.
D grunted a greeting as he chowed down on a chicken leg.
Vamp gave a more disturbing wave, delicately sipping from a goblet.
Kieran began dinging on the side of a glass to get all of their attention.
King Kieran: HEAR YE! HEAR YE! Gents… let's toast. TO WAR!
The camera fades out on King Kieran raising a glass to his forthcoming teammates.
| In the Warfare GM’s office… |
Jeff Bezos is checking his fit in the mirror, adjusting his watch made of child bones…
“The Zuck” is using a plastic spoon and a janitor’s bucket to mix a number of foods and drinks he gathered from the concession stand several weeks ago… converting them into some kind of… popcorn-hot-dog-soda-based moonshine…
And Elon sits in the GM’s chair, wringing his hands fiendishly…
Nadine gently rolls Peter’s chair beside Elon’s, to the side of his desk.
”Man! Getting to sit next to my favorite boss… while my other two favorite bosses are also in my office! This is, like… my sweetest dream!”
…
”Also I can speak normally again except for zushu.”
”He can’t say z’s right still…” Nadine shrugs.
”Doctors have no idea why.”
”Pretty crazushuy!”
”SILENCE.” Elon slashes through the chumminess.
…
Elon presses the button on the intercom.
…Nadine, who is in the room with Elon, presses her headset.
”Um… Yes?”
”Receptionist woman. Send in Scoops McGee.”
Nadine tilts her head.
”...Do you want me… I go get him now?”
…Elon refuses to look at her.
”Obviously! I said SEND HIM IN.”
…
”Okay, just… you didn’t make an appointment with him… so, I have to go… find him, I guess…”
…Nadine sighs and walks out of the office.
JC: What do the Trillionaires want with Scoops McGee?!?
JR: We’ll certainly find out later tonight!
JC: Folks we’re getting set for our opener! And this one’s a grudge match!
JR: Very true, Jacuinde! These two women went to WAR last Warfare! They battled around the entire arena! And now they’re getting ready to settle the score in a FALLS COUNT ANYWHERE match!
As the opening notes begin, the lights go out, save for a single spotlight on the top of the stage. Betsy comes out, but she’s only a silhouette at this point. Just as the drum strikes it’s second note, Betsy dabs and the lights come back. The song starts from the refrain as Betsy starts dancing down the ramp.
“Sin City’s cold and empty
No one’s around to judge me
I can’t see clearly when you’re gone-one-one”
Arms out, Betsy begins twirling around wildly, blonde ponytail whipping about with her, as she slaps hands with fans on both sides of the ramp. The chorus hits just as Betsy baseball slides into the ring.
JC: While it’s been absolutely fantastic having the Traveler back among the ranks of the XWF, It hasn’t exactly been a dream return run thus far for Betsy Granger!
JR: No doubt, Jacuinde! First, she gets ambushed in what’s supposed to be her debut match before the bell even rings against Latoya Hixx… THEN, she gets forced into a “King’z Rulez” match with Kieran King… which turns into another glorified mugging…
JC: And while she did come in an admirable third in the WarGames Captain’s match, drafting BOTH members of Pantheon AND THE GREEN MACHINE, Barney Green… She came inches short in an absolute barn-burner of a match with Kristoffer Arroyo!
JR: Betsy’s heading into a huge opportunity, captaining a team headed into WarGames where the Universal Title will be ON THE LINE! But, it’d be great if she went into that major Sunday with some momentum! One way to do that would be correcting the score with Latoya Hixx!
“And I said ooooh, I’m blinded by the lights
I can’t sleep until I feel your touch
And I said ooooh, I’m drowning in the night
Oh, when I’m like this, you’re the one I trust”
As the chorus chimes on, Betsy bounces up and hops up onto every ring corner, pumping her fist and bobbing her head in time with the song, getting the fans amped up for the upcoming bout. When she finishes playing up the fans, she starts bouncing in place, preparing mentally for the bout.
…
The lights went dark!
The sound of thunder Ker-ACKS throughout the arena!
Over the PA system, a woman laughs…
A Storm…
Is…
COMING
Suddenly, the lights turned blue! Rain falls from the rafters above as Latoya Hixx walks out at the top of the ramp, flexing her muscles!
JC: Latoyaa Hixx is one of the strongest competitors in all the XWF!
JR: And for once she put that rage to good use last Warfare! She attacked Betsy as she was rolling to the ring, the two dueled up the ramp, all the way to the back… And Latoya SPEARED Betsy off the second floor of the parking garage… And they both crashed into a parked HUMMER!
JC: Some people might lick their wounds and recover… but Latoya turned around and challenged Betsy to a Falls Count Anywhere match! She seems confident, after her no-contest confrontation with Betsy… that a match without count-outs is going to serve her well!
JR: But Betsy’s one of the smartest people in the game when it comes to re-tooling! When it comes to improving on her last performance! Can she reset the pieces and survive an uncontained STORM!
The lights return to their default settings as Hixx walks straight down the aisle and she slaps a few hands of wrestling fans! As she walks by the chopper, she points at and pantomimes revving the engine!
Hixx climbs up the steel steps, then enters the ring…
The lights dim and she flexes her muscles one final time!
…
The two face off in the center of the ring… Betsy stretches, as if checking all the systems on a spaceship ready to hit warp drive… Meanwhile, Latoya is flexing and power-posing, eager to beat down her smaller opponent!
Finally! The bell rings!
Betsy Granger
- vs -
Latoya Hixx
Singles |
Betsy and Latoya circle each other — Betsy loose and springy, a small smile on her lips; Latoya rigid and serious, bouncing on the balls of her feet.
Latoya charges forward, immediately yanking Betsy in for a collar-and-elbow tie-up!
JR: As she often does, Latoya comes out of the gate, looking to set the pace!
Latoya’s power shows instantly — she sinks Betsy into a side headlock… then drags her backwards into the mat… And shoots Granger into the ropes with ease!
JC: That strength advantage is real, Brody!
JR: Betsy’s about to learn what happens when you skip leg day for six months in space!
Betsy shoots across the ring like a shooting star!
…She rebounds off the ropes… Latoya lines up a…
LARIAT!
…
But Betsy ducks under and twists out, snatching Latoya’s wrist mid-spin!
And in a blink, transitions into a…
RUNNING HURRICANRANA!
Latoya yelps, whipped through the air into a somersault, landing on her back!
JC: Wow! Absolutely mesmerizing maneuver by Betsy Granger!
JR: Someone beam up Scotty cuz… wait, no, Scotty, two to… No, hold on…
JC: Take your time, Rogan, not like the action’s going to keep going OH WAIT YES IT IS.
Latoya KIPS back up to her feet!
JC: Wow! Incredible agility by Hixx!
…But as Hixx gets onto her feet, Betsy’s waiting in her path, catching her arm…
AND WHIPPING her across the ring! ARM DRAG!
JC: Incredible anticipation by Betsy, knowing Latoya’s recovery and taking her right back to her back!
…Latoya, getting a little dizzy now from the sudden repeated knock-down-rise-knock-down cycle, backs up into the ropes!
Betsy points at her, before charging, looking for a…
LARIAT!
…But Hixx ducks under… Spins!
AND CLOTHESLINES BETSY! Both topple up and over the top rope and onto the padded concrete outside the ring!
JR: And here we go! Hixx takes the action outside the ring, where Hixx had the upper hand over Betsy last Warfare!
JC: Looked pretty even to me last Warfare, Joe! But Hixx could shut my mouth here if she can hit another spear and, this time, score a three-count
Latoya and Betsy woozily rise up from the padded concrete outside the ring… Latoya charges forward!
JC: Latoya going back to the well of surprising her opponent by… doing what she always does!
JR: At this point, it’s almost surprising when she does! It’s, like… there’s no way she’ll mindlessly charge forward, right? Oh shit, she’s mindlessly charging forward! I didn’t see not seeing it coming coming!
Hixx spins, looking for a…
DISCUS CLOTHESLINE!
…
Nope! Betsy ducks!
JR: …Mark my words, one of these days, it’s gonna WORK!
As Latoya skids by, Betsy latches her heels around Latoya’s ankle, bringing her down to the mat with a…
DROP TOE HOLD!
Betsy spins from her chest to above Latoya, locking Hixx’s ankle against her calf as Hixx grits her teeth in pain!
JC: Very impressive bit of mat wrestling by Granger!
JR: Wait, is it still mat wrestling if it doesn’t happen on the mat? They’re outside the ring right now… Total mind-bender.
JC: Either way, it’s falls count anywhere! And that also means submissions count anywhere!
The official manages to slide under the ropes, asking if Hixx wants to submit!
Granger turns her body over Hixx, applying maximum pressure onto Hixx’s knee!
…But Hixx pushes herself off her chest, using only her arms!
And twists herself and Granger out of the hold, spinning Granger back into the barricade!
JC: Wow! Genuinely impressive counter there by Hixx! Not only was her great strength on display there, but that also required a level of technical execution!
…
Betsy, surprised that Hixx found a way out of that hold, manages to shove off the barricade…
..
JUST AS LATOYA BARRELS THROUGH IT! GRANGER AND HIXX BOTH TACKLE THEIR WAY THROUGH AND THE FANS IN THE FRONT ROW GET RUN THE FUCK OVER!
JC: Oh my GAWD!
JR: Some close-up fans get free t-shirts or ring gear… But those lucky few are going home with potential CONCUSSIONS!
About six or eight fans look devastated from Hixx’s spear… Security has to carefully peel them away from the action, body by body, like a rescue team pulling unconscious bodies out of a car wreck…
Meanwhile, Latoya woozily crawls, arm over arm… approaching the prone Betsy…
JC: There’s no way! Does Hixx really have Granger’s number?!? Can she pull off the ultimate upset of her career?!?
Latoya manages to exhaustedly crawl, covering Betsy with one arm!
The official counts!
ONE!
TWO!
THRE-NOOOOOOOOOOO!
BETSY KICKS OUT!
The crowd gasps! Before howling with pleasure that the match will continue!
JC: WOW! I can’t believe Betsy’s still in this one after that spear, Rogan!
JR: Betsy’s running on a mixture of rocket fuel and star power, Jacuinde! It’s gonna take more than one spear to knock her out of orbit!
JC: Well, it looks like Latoya’s aiming for number two!
Latoya shakes her head, stomping her feet, as the crowd starts a Hixx chant!
STORM IS CO-MIN’! clap clap clapclapclap!
STORM IS CO-MIN’! clap clap clapclapclap!
The security team orders the second and third tow to clear away to the aisles, demanding the fans make room for the fight… Betsy exhaustedly grips a steel folding chair, slowly rising to her feet… As Hixx stomps over the collapses barricade, backing up, brushing her foot against the ground like a bull preparing to charge!
Betsy pulls herself up, sitting in the chair she just used to peel herself off the ground…
SHE CHARGES!
SPEAR! SPEAR! SPEAR!
…
Is dodged!
Betsy shoves off the chair and leapfrogs over!
AND HIXX’S FACE EATS THE CHAIR BETSY WAS JUST SITTING ON!
JC: What a counter by Betsy Granger!
JR: But somehow, Hixx is still on her feet!
Indeed, Hixx’s face rebounds off the chair… her legs looking jellified as she staggers backwards…
Where Betsy tabletops Latoya onto her back, latching an arm between her legs into a schoolboy pin!
JC: Wait, is it a schoolgirl pin if they’re both women?
JR: Good question. Jamie, can you pull up a clip of ‘schoolgirls pinning each other’? For research purposes.
The official drops amidst the chaos and twisted metal in the first row to count!
ONE!
TWO!
Kickout!
JC: Betsy almost stole it there!
Latoya shakes up, fuming — and charges again, this time trying to trap Betsy against a still-standing portion of the barricade! Betsy backpedals into the corner with Latoya in hot pursuit!
Latoya dive-tackles forward!
…Betsy leaps over, rolling back towards the ring…
AND HIXX EATS BARRICADE WITH HER FACE! CRASHING THROUGH IT!
JC: Olé!
JR: The ring crew’s gonna have a nightmare fixing all this… And this is only the first match of the night!
…Hixx woozily shakes off the cobwebs, slowly peeling herself off the padded concrete and twisted metal of the barricade…
Just as Betsy springs from the floor onto the apron…
She backflips!
ASAI MOONSAULT! Taking Hixx onto her back!
JC: Holy COW! What a move!
Betsy lands chest to chest onto Latoya!
The official counts again!
ONE!
TWO!
THRE-NOOOOOOO! LATOYA KICKS OUT!
JC: Hixx kicks out! But how much longer can she stay up amidst Betsy’s onslaught!
Betsy, seemingly undiscouraged by Hixx’s survival, points to the sky — the crowd roars!
…Hixx slowly stumbles onto her knees… Just as Betsy latches her hands around Hixx’s head, dragging her off her feet!
Wrapping her arm around Latoya’s neck — into a Cobra Clutch!
JC: Here we go! Betsy’s setting up for a “Down You Go!”
Betsy’s in position!
…But Latoya thrashes — elbowing Betsy in the ribs! She slips free! Betsy doubles over!
And just like that — Latoya scoops Betsy off her feet! Into powerslam position!
JC: Oh my! Latoya’s aiming to toss Betsy for her trademark Fallaway slam!
JR: She’s gonna launch Betsy into the stratosphere! Or at the very least into the fifth row!
Once more, the security team tells the front row fans to clear the way!
Hixx heaves Betsy up!
FALLAWAY SL-
NO!
Betsy turns her body, landing on her feet behind Latoya!
Catching her by the skull!
And Betsy SNAPS her backward into Cobra Clutch Legsweep!
DOWN!
YOU!
GO!
JC: THAT’S IT! THAT’S GOTTA BE IT!
The crowd explodes!
Betsy hooks the leg!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Betsy rolls to her knees, breathing heavy but grinning wide, looking up toward the lights as though soaking in starlight itself.
Betsy leans over the ropes, raising her hand to the fans — while Latoya sits up in the corner, rubbing her neck, shaking her head in disbelief…
JC: Betsy settles the score with Latoya and proves she can win a match ANYWHERE in the arena!
JR: A strong showing by Hixx, who at several points, looked like she might steal this one!
JC: Can’t argue with that, Joe! A valiant effort from Latoya Hixx — but tonight belongs to The Impossible Traveler.
We return to the backstage area where the shot hovers over a feast fit for, well, kings. Buxom women dote over the attendees sitting about the table: Kristoffer Arroyo, Larry Tact, Big D, and King Kieran himself. The meal truly has all the trimmings and no one is being shy about eating. But then, the moment is interrupted by the Universal Champion rising to his feet.
King Kieran: Gentlemen, I hope you’re all enjoying the meal. But I must take a moment to share something with you all.
Kieran snaps his fingers and a member of his honor guard brings him…file folders? Kieran holds them up as he speaks.
King Kieran: Now, War Games is all about strange bedfellows, so-to-speak, but I want to begin by saying that I trust you all implicitly. I wouldn't have drafted you if I didn't see something agreeable to The Crown. But, as they say, “trust, but verify.” To that end, I conducted background checks on you all.
Big D frowns and leans in, putting down a turkey leg he was munching on.
Big D: Whoa, whoa, whoa…how can you say you trust us in the same breath you say you were digging through our closets?
Kristoffer Arroyo: It’s fine by me. I’m an open book.
King Kieran quirks an eyebrow at Kristoffer.
King Kieran: Are you now?
He walks behind Kristoffer and places a file folder in front of him. It’s completely empty.
King Kieran: Because it seems to me your book doesn’t have any pages. I couldn’t find anything on you, Kristoffer. It’s as if you don’t exist. Which leads me to one conclusion: Kristoffer isn’t your real name, is it?
Kristoffer looks nonplussed, and shrugs his shoulders.
Kristoffer Arroyo: You hit the nail on the head, my king. It’s not my real name.
Larry Tact: Well how can we trust you if you’re not even using your real name?
Kieran gestures towards Tact, echoing his agreement with the man’s question.
Kristoffer Arroyo: My intention is not to deceive. I changed my name out of necessity. For a variety of reasons.
Big D: …which are?
Kristoffer Arroyo: I’m over 300 years old. It’s necessary for me to change my identity periodically. I can’t exactly go by the same name and persona for more than one lifetime, now can I?
Big D scoffs.
Big D: Oh come on with the vampire stuff man, you’re not really…
King Kieran holds up a hand.
King Kieran: I believe him.
Larry Tact: You do?
King Kieran: We’re all veterans here. We’ve all seen our share of strangeness: werewolves… demons… wizards from outer space. Betsy Granger has a space ship! Or a TARDIS. Or… something. I choose to believe Kristoffer is what he says he is. And for the record, Kristoffer, changing your name does NOT make you a blank slate. Just so long as it doesn’t come up and bite any of us in the ass.
Kristoffer Arroyo: I can assure you it won’t.
Kieran nods and then he turns to Big D and places a file folder down in front of him.
King Kieran: Sir D! You have quite the storied history. Almost as storied as mine. There was a lot to sort through. But one incident stood out heads and shoulders above everything else to me.
Big D looks a trifle concerned.
Big D: What’s that?
King Kieran: Does the name Zero ring a bell?
Big D looks down at the table.
King Kieran: I can see that it does. But hey, no judgement from me. I prize that kind of ruthless aggression.
Kristoffer Arroyo: Care to fill us in, Sir D?
Big D looks decidedly uncomfortable, shifting in his seat.
Big D: I’m not about that anymore.
King Kieran: So are you going to fill them in? Or shall I?
Big D steels himself.
Big D: I will.
A pause.
Big D: It was a long time ago. Way before the XWF. I was in a promotion that wasn’t giving me the opportunities I felt like I deserved and I…I snapped. And I….well, I attacked an opponent’s wife.
Kristoffer’s features light up.
Kristoffer Arroyo: Oh how delightfully NASTY of you.
Big D: I’m not proud of it!
Big D snapped back. Kieran held up his hands placatingly.
King Kieran: Hey, this is a judgement-free zone, D. I’m sure we’ve all done things that we regret. But as I said, that kind of ruthlessness, well, it can be a boon to the team.
Big D grimaced.
Big D: I’m trying to get away from that side of me. That’s not who I choose to be anymore.
Kieran’s expression is difficult to read at first, but he turns it into a smile.
King Kieran: Well, Sir D, I’m sure that regardless of how you feel, when push comes to shove you’ll do what’s in the interests of the team. Right?
Big D hesitates a moment.
King Kieran: …..right?
Big D: Yeah. Yeah. I’m a team player.
Kieran claps his hands together.
King Kieran: Wonderful! Glad to hear it.
The champ turns to consider Larry Tact.
King Kieran: Which brings us to you, Larry.
He places Larry’s folder down in front of him. Larry opens it, and after sifting through it for a moment frowns and looks up at Kieran.
Larry Tact: This isn’t about me. It’s about Morgan.
King Kieran: Right. You know Larry, as I researched you I discovered that the most interesting things about you were right out in the open. Including your family.
Larry Tact: I’m not sure I appreciate you digging around when it comes to my family.
Tact’s voice is steely. But Kieran smiles in response and again holds up his hands.
King Kieran: Easy, Larry. Consider it a gift. If I can find her, so can certain other parties, no? Read through the file. See where the holes are in your family’s security. Might want to tighten things up, eh?
Tact’s affect flattens and he looks back down at the file, clearly uncomfortable with the ambiguousness inherent in King Kieran’s “gift”.
Satisfied, Kieran sits back down in his chair and takes a sip of whatever liquor fills his chalice.
His team-mates look on expectantly.
Big D: …And you?
Kieran looks up confused.
Larry Tact: We all shared. How about you?
Kristoffer Arroyo: We should know who we're following…
Kieran shrugged.
King Kieran: Fair enough. My follies are as public as my dominance. Ten years of delinquency, degeneracy, and deviance—imbibing every substance I could get my hands on while falling both in and out of favour with the types of people whom you never want to fall out with. I've been shot, stabbed, set on fire… all the classics really. But, I've never hidden any of that. You lads want to know the real goss’?
Does the name ALIAS ring a bell?
I bet it does. The last Universal Champion to survive War Games.
Did you guys know that he blames me for being captured and turned into… whatever he is.
Did you know… he's right?
And you know what?
Kieran jabs a fork into a juicy piece of steak.
King Kieran: If it got me where I am today… I'd do it all again.
| Later… In the Warfare GM’s office… |
Bezos and Zuck are pushing Principle backwards and forwards in the wheelchair, like they’re playing catch…
”Haha!” Peter laughs as he’s thrust back and forth!
”It’s like I’m part of the game!”
Elon sits at the desk, wringing his hands fiendishly.
BZZZZZZT.
”Mister Musk, I found Scoops McGee for you.”
Elon’s brow furrows.
”Who?”
”...Wrestling legend Scoops McGee?”
”Oh yes. Fine. What’s he here for?”
”...You wante-... ugh, I’m sending him in.”
The door opens. Scoops McGee rolls in and the live crowd goes fuckin’ NUTS.
So loud, Elon Musk looks up, clocking the sound of the crowd cheering.
”Ah, they must be applauding that I’m on-screen.”
“So what the Hell is all this about?” Scoops asked as he scratched his beard.
”Ah, the Big Scoop himself.” Musk extends a hand toward McGee.
”Please don’t actually shake my hand, I prefer not to touch poors, but imagine we’re shaking hands.”
“...Uh-huh.” Scoops crosses his arms with a stern look on his face, staring at Elon’s soft hands with an agitated brow, certain they’ve never worked a day…
”Excellent, I can see your mind imagining the handshake.” Elon returns his hand to his side.
”Scoops… I feel like the roster… the ‘secondary talent’...” Elon raises his hands to deliver finger quotes.
”Think that we owners… aka the ‘primary talent’... are against them. That we’re somehow opposing them. And we’d like to demonstrate how we can help dreams come true for you wrestlers!”
Elon smiles, gesturing towards Scoops McGee.
”Starting with you, Mister McGoo.”
”McGee.” Bezos corrects.
”Geseundheit.”
Elon looks McGee up and down.
”Scoops, you’ve been loyal to the sport of wrestling for four decades. You’re beloved the world over by fans young and old… It’d be foolish of US not to see how much value you bring to the table.”
…The crowd pops as Elon seems to confirm what they feel: a pure fan adoration for Scoops McGee!
…
”Not as a Universal champion, mind you. But maybe as a secondary champion!”
…The cheers quiet. Scoops’ face darkens as he stares at Elon.
”...Eh, maybe like… Ooh! We could bring back the 24/7 Freestyle title. And you could just… have it! Wouldn’t that be nice for you? A nice belt to hold up your geriatric pants.”
The crowd goes full on booing Elon for denigrating Scoops.
”Think about it, Scoops. You could be employed the rest of your life in wrestling! As a sort-of… side-show! Like a… huh, ‘he’s still doing it! That’s nice!’ You’d never have to worry about money at the family farm again… You’d be set for life.”
“So long as you serve the interest of the Corporation.”
Elon extends his hand.
”Whaddya say Scoops? Again, do not shake my hand, but if you agree, imagine shaking my hand in a legally binding fashion…”
Scoops pauses, then a chuckle slips out from his lips as he wags a finger right at Elon.
“I know you, you stupid sumbitch. I know yer’ games. The way people like you try to play. The way you people think of us like we’re human chess pieces on the board.” Scoops banged his fist on the table, staring daggers at Elon.
“Why the fuck would I ever wanna trust a little piece of shit like you? Huh?”
The two glare at each other, the tension in the room thickening.
“And while we’re at it, just who the fuck do you think I am? ‘Secondary champion,’ my ass. You stupid fucks are probably the reason why I’m facin’ my own tag partner come War Games for the TV champion, because you people knew I was gonna draft him. Well, guess what?”
Scoops grins, straightening himself as he paces back and forth across the room.
“I don’t care about what little plans you wanna pigeonhole me into to get me out of the way. Freestyle, Heavymetalweight, shove all those damn titles straight up yer’ asses. The only title I need is the damn UNIVERSAL TITLE!”
The fans pop huge at Scoops’ words! And he starts jabbing a finger at each of the billionaires, plus Peter!
“And I don’t need the help of a buncha yellow-bellied, mealy-mouth, cross-eyed, stutterin’ sumbitches to make that dream come true! So, Mister Musk, I say you take yer’ damn offer and shove it straight outta the window before you hop out of there too!”
Elon blinks as Scoops storms out, done with this tomfoolery.
…
”I don’t speak Hill Country. Did he say ‘yes’?”
Zuck and Principle both shrug.
Bezos sighs and shakes his head ‘no’...
Elon’s face contorts into displeasure.
”Well, then… If Scoops McGee isn’t with us…”
Elon sneers insidiously…
”That makes him against us…”
Amber Mansley is already in the ring as Warfare comes back from commercial.
"Gored" by Loathe plays throughout the arena. The lights go out. Once the beat drops, a spotlight shines on the entryway, where Solomon appears inside the light, clad in a black hoodie over his ring gear and a ski mask, kneeling on his right knee. As the lyrics come in, he stands, removes his hood and surveys the crowd as sparks rain down around him. He slowly makes his way toward the ring, sneering at fans along the way. He circles the ring and slides under the bottom rope. He peers out at the crowd in the middle of the ring through his ski mask. He flips off the people in the crowd, making sure to show hate to each side of the ring equally.
JC: Psycho Solomon, he’s looking as ready as ever tonight for this Xtreme Championship match.
JR: It’s a chance for him to prove his many haters wrong, Jack. He knows he’s got something to prove tonight after coming in last during the Captain’s Match last Warfare.
JC: I would argue he got screwed during there considering how the final two played out, but regardless, you’re right that he’s going to want to bring nothing short of his best here tonight…
He then readies himself for the match, feeling pity for those who have to face him.
'Psycho' Solomon ©
- vs -
Amber Mansley
X-Treme Rules |
DING! DING! DING!
Amber and Solomon share a glance at each other, the two quickly circling around the ring as the match gets under way.
JC: And we’re off, folks! It’s early in the night, but this Xtreme title match could be very promising to watch here tonight.
JR: It’s a big fight feel here on Warfare. HUGE implications for how War Games could go if Mansley could knock off a Captain here AND take their title headed into the event.
JC: Lot to prove here for both sides tonight. I’m sure Solomon’s going to want to make sure he heads into War Games with a full head of steam.
The two approach each other in the center of the ring, Solomon looking to offer a collar-and-elbow tie-up… Amber takes a look at Solomon, goes in for the tie-up ONLY TO SLIP UNDERNEATH PAST HIM!
Solomon turns to look at Amber, who scoffs and flicks her hair, before wagging a finger right back at Solomon!
JR: Amber’s sure feeling full of herself here, gotta be feeling good about this match.
JC: Well, Joe, she’s an expert in the usage of mind games, so she’s sure to be- WOAH!
A HUGE uppercut from Solomon catches Amber off-guard as she gets taken right to the corner from the hard blow!
JC: Big cheap shot there from Solomon just hit hard!
JR: Can’t leave yourself open in the ring too long against a champ!
Amber tries to quickly adjust herself, but Solomon is already on her in the corner! He delivers some strong boots right to her midsection, hammering away on her small frame and causing her to hunch over to gasp for air!
The ref looks like he’s about to step in, but Solomon immediately stares daggers at him, causing him to back away in fear!
He turns around, but Amber’s come back to life! She nails Solomon with a hard right hand that gets him to back up, before she raises her leg and kicks him back towards the center of the ring!
She turns around! And moves onto the top turnbuckle! She’s looking for a Moonsault…
BUT SOLOMON MOVES IN AND TUGS HER BACK BY THE ANKLE!
AMBER FALLS AND HITS HER HEAD RIGHT OFF OF THE TOP TURNBUCKLE!
JR: Oh, shi-
JC: Amber just hit the metal hard there, folks, and she’s looking out of it. Bad falls happen from time to time, but that could be a concussion right there…
Amber tries to wildly swing for a punch, but Solomon steps back and away from it! But it allows him to dart inside for a HUGE lariat that turns Amber inside-out!
Solomon doesn’t go for the cover, though. Instead, he goes out of the ring to a chorus of boos, shoving the ring announcer out of the steel chair they were sitting in so that they can fold it up.
Solomon is almost feeding off of the boos as he comes back to his feet, willing Amber to get back up. She’s dazed, confused, but slowly uses the ropes for support as she manages to claw her way back.
JC: Don’t turn around, Amber-!
JR: I don’t think she can hear anything right now, let alone you!
SOLOMON SWINGS-!
BUT AMBER KICKS SOLOMON IN THE GUT!
A QUICK ELBOW CATCHES SOLOMON RIGHT ON THE JAW!
AMBER BACKS UP… AND MANAGES TO DROPKICK THE CHAIR RIGHT INTO SOLOMON’S FACE! SOLOMON DROPS DOWN TO A KNEE!
JR: Credit where it’s due, Amber’s trying to fight her way back into this thing! The Psycho’s looking a bit groggy himself!
JC: Can she capitalize, though?!
Amber takes a deep breath, composing herself! She runs off the ropes with as much steam as she can muster, putting Solomon on a target for herself-!
BUT SOLOMON THROWS THE STEEL CHAIR RIGHT INTO AMBER’S SKULL AS IT BOUNCES OFF OF HER!
THE CROWD BOOS! SOLOMON MAKES HIS WAY BACK TO HIS FEET, BARKING AT AMBER! SHE’S CRAWLING, TUGGING AT HIM AS SOLOMON HOISTS HER RIGHT BACK UP, DEADLIFTING HER BEFORE THROWING HER INTO THE AIR-
AND SLAMS A FOREARM RIGHT INTO HER SKULL!
JC: Ashes to Ashes right there! Psycho Solomon trying to make a statement once he caught Amber off guard here tonight!
JR: Almost makes you wonder what could have been…
Solomon rolls Amber over and hooks the leg as he grins maniacally!
ONE!
TWO!
THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
| WINNER AND STILL XTREME CHAMPION: ‘PSYCHO’ SOLOMON! |
JC: That’s about as dominant of a win as you could ask for in the ring tonight, Joe, but we’ve got a lot more action coming soon!
JR: They oughta check on Amber after that match, I’m positive she’s gonna have a concussion.
JC: Her and her War Games team captain, Scoops McGee, after the tumble he took last Anarchy, it seems…
Warfare fades to commercial as Solomon holds his Xtreme Championship high.
| Later Still… In the Warfare GM’s office… |
Bezos is in front of a dry-erase board.
As Elon and Zuck stand beside it…
Somehow, Peter Principle is hanging upside down in his wheelchair, clinging on for dear life.
”Um… guys… this is still really fun, but… could someone get me down from here…?”
”SILENCE, SLAVE!” Elon steeples his hands below his chin.
”We’re talking business…”
”Right.” Bezos pulls out a dry-erase marker drawing on the board.
”This is important. We said all XWF titles will be on the line in WarGames.”
Elon nods.
”Exactly. ALL titles will be ON-THE-LINE at WarGames!”
Zuck also nods.
”Hella belts, hella title changes, hella good product, yo.”
”Right, sure.” Bezos nods along with his associates.
”But… how do we put that into practice?” Bezos looks at his associates, awaiting some actual design to accompany the buzzwords.
”Like, how does that work INSIDE the WarGames match?”
…Elon murmurs thoughtfully.
…
”Got it.” He snaps his fingers. Bezos leans in curiously.
”We take all the belts. ALL of them, right? One-hundred percent of the belts!”
…
”And we put them ON-THE-LINE! At WarGames!”
Zuck’s eyes widen as he presses his hands to his head and then explodes them outward.
”Eazy E, that is CRAZY!”
”Crazushuy!” Principle echoes from the ceiling!
”...Exactly like Pete just said, Crazushuy!” …Zuck nods thoughtfully.
”But maybe it’s just crazushuy enough to workushuy!”
…
”You didn’t say anything.” Bezos sighs.
”Like, yes, the concept of all titles being on the line has people’s interest, but… we just have an idea. Now, we actually have to make it happen! Bring it to life!”
”Ugggggh…” Elon leans back in his chair impatiently.
”We’re the Trillionaires! Can’t we just… pay someone else to do it for us?”
”No, we…”
…
……
”Oh yeah. No, we totally can.”
Jennie Nickles walks onto the ramp with a quiet confidence. A splattering of boos and cheers can be heard throughout the arena: a clearly divided a reception. As Jennie walks down towards the ring, she passes both fans and haters. A group of mourners hold up signs reading “SCARLET VERDICT FOR PRISON!”, but a group of fans on the opposite side of the aisle hold up signs reading “THE VICTIMS DESERVED IT!”. Jennie pays no attention to either side, just sliding into the ring under the bottom ropes before waiting patiently for the Bit Luchador.
JC: And here is the “Scarlet Verdict” herself, one of the XWF’s most notorious new signings! A former serial killer, a former prosecutor, and now one of the fastest rising stars in all of professional wrestling.
JR: Yeah, I don’t like her. I’m not really cool with that whole “murdering people for being problematic” style of woke BS!
JC: I don’t think anything about Jennie is “woke”, Joe.
JR: Killing rapists and pedophiles for not being “P.C.” sounds pretty woke to me!
When Booyka 619 hit's he walks out on stage and kneels down on one knee and prays. He gets up and points to the Fans in Pyro fireworks burst open and switch to the other side of the stage in does the same thing in after he was done he slowly walks down the ramp in slaps some little kids high fives and he stops and stares at the kid in hands him his Luchdor Mask to him and heads straight towards the ring and hops on the turnbuckle and pose both fingers in mid air and walks to the other side turnbuckle in does the same thing mid finger in the air in he gets down and waits for the match to start.
JC: And now for the Bit Luchador himself, El Landerson! If you love high-flying action, you will love the bit luchador!
JR: He’s gotten off to a rocky start so far in the XWF, dropping matches to both Ace Sky and Razor Blade: but he’s right on the verge of really turning things around. A win here tonight over Jennie Nickles could be just what he needs to get some momentum!
Jennie Nickles
- vs -
El Landerson
X-Treme Rules |
The opening bell rings and the Tulsa crowd claps a steady rhythm as Jennie Nickles and El Landerson circle up. Jennie keeps her stance low and tight, eyes forward, expression calm. Landerson bounces on his toes, shaking out his wrists, light on his feet as if the canvas were a trampoline.
JC: El Landerson looks like he’s listening to a song only he can hear.
JR: Yeah, it’s the sound of his own heartbeat. That little dude runs to the beat of his own drum!
They step together for a collar-and-elbow. Jennie shoves Landerson back toward the ropes. He ducks under her arm and darts away. Landerson hits the ropes, springs to the middle, and flings himself backward with a cross-body. Jennie catches him but the momentum carries both to the mat. Landerson pops up first, and when Jennie finally gets up Landers throws a dropkick to her shoulder, then another. She drops to a knee.
JC: Quick start by the Bit Luchador! He’s got to keep the pace frantic if he wants a shot to win here.
JR: You bet. Jennie’s still a novice in that ring. If he can keep up the intensity, she’ll look like a fish out of water!
Landerson races to the corner and scales the turnbuckles like he’s on autopilot. He leaps into a spinning head-scissors, flipping Jennie across the ring. The crowd pops! Landerson runs again, jumps to the middle rope, and hits a springboard back-elbow that knocks Jennie into the ropes. She catches herself before falling through, grabbing onto the top rope just in time to balance herself.
Landerson pumps his fist and screams “Vámonos!” as the crowd begins eating out of the palm of his hand.
He charges again, ducks a lariat, rebounds, and connects with a running forearm. Jennie stumbles but doesn’t go down. He hits a second. She staggers to one knee. Landerson sprints for the ropes once more.
JC: He’s hitting her with everything he’s got!
Landerson leaps for a flying knee, but Jennie catches him in midair! She pivots, and then drives him spine-first into the corner with a thunderous thud! The crowd winces as the frantic Luchador suddenly grinds to a halt.
JC: That’s one way to change the tempo.
JR: That’s called hitting the emergency brake.
Jennie grabs the middle rope for leverage and starts driving her shoulder into Landerson’s midsection. Then she backs off cleanly, grabbing Landerson by the mask and slinging him out of the corner with a snapmare. She follows with a stiff kick between the shoulder blades that echoes through arena. Landerson arches in pain and rolls away, clutching his back.
Jennie stalks him, methodical now. She hooks his leg, drags him to the center of the ring, and drops a knee right into the small of his back. Landerson lets out a sharp yelp. Jennie keeps hold of the leg, transitions smoothly into a single-leg crab.
JC: Textbook control from Jennie Nickles. She’s isolating the back after that corner collision.
JR: She’s looking damn good in there for a novice! She must’ve been training with her brother, because her technical skills have vastly improved from just last Warfare!
Landerson claws for the ropes and reaches them, but they’re no use! This is an X-treme rules match! The crowd rallies. “LAN-DER-SON! LAN-DER-SON!” but it doesn’t do him any good. Jennie pulls him back two feet and leans deeper into the hold. His hand hovers over the mat, trembling. The ref is right there asking if he wants to quit. Landerson shakes his head violently and digs his elbows into the mat, dragging himself forward again. But this time, he’s able to roll through and fling Jennie off of him!
Jennie is forced to release, but she stays crouched beside him, watching him struggle to get up on a wounded leg. Landerson uses the ropes to pull himself up. Jennie approaches; he surprises her with a back elbow to the jaw, and then a second! He sprints to the ropes, vaults to the middle strand, and springs backward with a moonsault that flattens both of them. The crowd explodes as the momentum shifts!
JC: Desperation move, but it paid off!
JR: He just turned his body into a missile. I love this kid’s bad decision making.
Landerson crawls over for a cover! The ref drops down to make the count!
1!
2!
KICKOUT!!
Jennie powers out, rolling to her side. Landerson slaps the mat, pushes himself to his feet, and signals for the Landerson Frog Splash. He climbs the turnbuckles, steadying himself at the top. The audience rises with him.
He leaps-
But Jennie rolls aside at the last possible second!
Landerson hits hard, chest first. The impact knocks the wind out of him. He gasps and clutches his ribs. Jennie kneels beside him, shakes the cobwebs loose, then grabs him by the wrist.
She yanks him up, Irish whips him into the ropes, and catches him on the rebound with an ODE TO CHARLIE (buckshot lariat!)
She makes the cover!
1!
2!!
3!!!
The bell rings and Jennie lets out a long exhale. The referee raises her arm, and she takes a moment to look down at Landerson, who’s barely moving but trying to sit up.
JC: Jennie Nickles picks up another impressive victory on Warfare. Methodical, confident, and all business.
[white]JR: She didn’t just win, she sent a message. No chaos, no interference, just wrestling skill and control. War Games is around the corner, and she’s going into it with all the momentum!
| Even Later Still… In the Warfare GM’s office… |
Anarchy GM ‘Big’ Dick Lichter finishes drawing on (mostly the bottom third of) the dry-erase board.
”There we are, gentlemen.” Lichter re-caps his red marker.
”Think it’s pretty simple. First round, all titles will be on-the-line. Pinfall or submission upon the current titleholder will change the title’s hands to the competitor who secures that pinfall or submission.”
”Except for Kieran King! He can’t win any other titles by pinfall or submission!”
…Lichter tilts his head.
”...Okay. Why, tho?”
”Well… He’s already Universal champion…”
”Also, fuck him!”
…Lichter shrugs, uncapping his marker and writing that down.
”Sure, fine. And then in the final, ONLY the Universal title is on the line. The Universal title will change hands by pinning or submitting the current Universal champion.”
”Logical. Thank you, Dick.”
”Hell yeah, Dickie L with the mad W!”
…
”One more thing.”
Bezos and Zuck turn to look at Elon.
”Ex-squeeze me?”
”What’s your play here, Musk?”
Elon strokes his chin thoughtfully.
”Whoever’s left in the final, all pinfalls and submissions leading up to the final pin… if they’re not on the Universal champion? The title doesn’t change hands.”
…
”But!” Elon lifts a finger into the air.
”But when the last competitor is eliminated? WhoEVER scores that pinfall or submission? Leaves WarGames as the Universal champion!”
”...That’s some bullshit.” Lichter clears his throat.
”So someone can become Universal champion without even pinning Kieran King?”
”That’s…” Bezos strokes his chin.
”Diabolical, Elon. Suddenly, even if Kieran manages to reach the final elimination with multiple teammates left, they’re no longer his allies…”
”But his obstacles toward escaping with the Universal title…” Elon nods as his friend seeing the wisdom in his vision.
Bezos smiles insidiously, before spinning back to Dick.
”Write it down, Lichter.”
…Lichter begrudgingly writes it down.
JC: Did you hear that?!? Kieran King can lose the Universal title without even getting pinned or submitted at WarGames!
JR: It’s a game-changing announcement, Jacuinde! Whoever scores the last pinfall or submission to end the WarGames match… Even if they don’t pin Kieran… Even if they’re on Kieran’s team! They’ll leave WarGames as Universal champion!
JC: This just made an already explosive WarGames even more explosive!
JC: Folks, we’ve got a lot of potential previews tonight for WarGames! Matchups between competitors headed into one of the largest matches in XWF History! But this next one is between future teammates!
JR: Absolutely, Jacuinde! Tatiana Jolee and Reggie Estrada are both members of Team Roxy Cotton, who’s aligned with The Trillionaires! What on earth could they be thinking putting two teammates in a match with WarGames just two weeks away?!?
JC: Maybe a chance to see each other’s styles in action firsthand? Either way, it’s next!
The guitar opening of “Plowed” by Sponge begins to play over the P.A system bringing attention to the stage as the lights strobe as if in sync with the tempo of the song.
Will I wake up, some dream I made up
No, I guess it's reality
What will change us, or will we mess up
Our only chance to connect with a dream
-KA-BOOM!-
The fireworks explode off the top of the tron bringing the end to the strobes as a spotlight illuminates the figure of Tatiana Jolee standing there. Dressed in her blackout ring attire with matching boots and pads - her hair is pulled up in a bun and she has a black leather jacket with the Canadian flag on the back.
Say a prayer for me
(Say a prayer for me)
Say a prayer for me
Say a prayer for me
(Say a prayer for me)
I'm buried by the sound
Of a world of human wreckage
In a world of human wreckage
In a world of human wreckage
Where I'm lost and I'm found, and I can't touch the ground
I'm plowed into the sound
Announcer: “Making her way to the ring, from Vancouver, British Columbia… TATIANA JOOOOOLEEEE!”
JC: Here she is! The Canadian Icon! Tatiana Jolee! Just four short weeks ago, she pulled off an impressive victory over ‘The Influence’ Amber Mansley! And she’s looked dominant in her return to an XWF ring! Can she keep that momentum going into WarGames? With the Universal Title on the line?!?
JR: Tatiana’s put a quarter-century of her life into wrestling, since 1999! She has more experience in the ring than some whole teams do combined! It’s just a question of can she put the pieces together for one night? Can she take twenty-six years of wrestling of put them all into one perfect night? Cuz, if so, she’s a dark horse to leave with the Universal title around her waist!
To see wide open with a head that's broken
Hang a life on some tragedy
Plow me under the ground that covers
The message that is the seed
With a confident expression, she heads down the ramp, walking up the ring steps and gliding across the apron. She pauses briefly to wipe her boots on the apron out of respect for all who share this ring. TJ enters through the middle ropes giving the hard camera a smirk and a little wink while removing her jacket before using the ropes in the corner to do one last mini-stretch - gathering herself for the fight ahead.
The smoke fills up with gray on the stage, as the arena lights flickers. Then once we see "The Rebellious One" on the X-Tron, then we hear the boom bap of 1999 on the the X-Tron itself. Then we see Reggie coming onto the stage with his hoodie on, and he shadow boxes infront of the camera and talkin’ smack as he walked down, then he gives the fans on the ramp some dap as he went to the ring.
JC: Reggie Estrada! The king of controversy! The ultimate upset artist!
JR: Reggie Estrada has made a career out of pulling off unbelievable comebacks! He pinned Robert “The Omega” Main in 2020! He beat PWV World Heavyweight champion, JC Keeton!
JC: There’s a lot of reasons Roxy Cotton would want him on her WarGames squad, Joe! He’s got that unique gene for clutch energy! He can take over a match when you least expect it! He can be a difference maker!
JR: But he’s also just about the polar opposite of Tatiana Jolee! The Canadian Icon is dedicated to pure wrestling and technical grappling! Reggie’s pure flash and showmanship!
JC: How are these two very different ingredients going to mesh at WarGames? Maybe we’ll get a clue watching them go head-to-head tonight!
CHOKE! CHOKE! CHOKE! CHOKE! CHOKE!
Reggie reaches the bottom of the ramp with a simply sildes into it! He steps to the center of the ring… and starts twisting his wrists, raising his arms…
OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
And Reggie wraps his hands around his throat! The Reggie choke! And the crowd loves it!
Reggie raises his fist up to the crowd, showing the people some love as his theme fades out.
Tatiana Jolee
- vs -
Reggie Estrada
Pure Wrestling Rules |
JC Here we go, folks! Pure Wrestling Rules in effect — three rope breaks, no closed fists, and victory only by pinfall or submission. And Brody, this one’s got layers — these two are teammates in Roxy Cotton’s WarGames squad, but tonight? It’s about proving who deserves to lead that team from the mat!
JR: Jacuinde, watch from the opening bell for Reggie to try and throw Tatiana off her rhythm. This fight’s going to be a well-tuned wrestling machine versus a hammer trying to break the machine open from the outside!
Tatiana Jolee steps from her corner with poise — chin high, shoulders back — breathing through her nose…
Reggie bounces on his heels, restless energy rippling through him. He slaps his chest, then the turnbuckle pad, hyping himself up. The crowd feeds him noise, and he feeds off it right back — jawing at a heckler in the front row, smirking. When he turns back to Tatiana, she’s already in stance, motioning for a tie-up.
JC: TJ calling for a little collar-and-elbow to start off this pure wrestling rules match!
JR: Not really Reggie’s forte! He only likes pulling collars to get a striking advantage… though he also loves throwing elbows!
Reggie laughs, shaking his head — exaggeratedly loosening his shoulders, like he’s pretending not to care. But there’s a flicker in his eyes: she’s composed, and that bothers him.
They circle. Tatiana’s footwork is calm, light, technical — Reggie’s is jumpy, full of nervous ticks.
Reggie suddenly steps up, like he’s going to lock-up! Tatiana braces herself!
…But then he staggers backwards, into the ropes, yawning… Like this pure wrestling shit is whatevz.
JC: Reggie showing a little disrespect to Tatiana in the early-going here! Tatiana is one of the most composed competitors in the XWF, but Reggie loves getting under anybody’s skin…
JR: It’s exactly how he pulls off his upsets, Jacuinde! Getting people to abandon their gameplan, trying to hurt him! But will TJ take the bait?
Tatiana tilts her head — patient, but a tight smile betrays her irritation. She catches Reggie against the ropes, and he can’t escape! Collar-and-elbow.
The instant they touch, her movements become surgical: she rolls her shoulder underneath his arm, guiding him into a clean side headlock like she’s teaching a wrestling exhibition and using him as her teaching tool!
Reggie’s face contorts — the pressure’s real — and his hands slap at her waist, trying to push her off. He grits his teeth, muttering something in spanish under his breath, and Tatiana just twists tighter, lowering her center of gravity. Her expression stays blank, professional — almost bored.
JC: That is NOT where Reggie wants to be, letting Tatiana grapple him!
JR: That’s textbook Tatiana Jolee! Look at that torque — she’s controlling Reggie Estrada like he’s a practice dummy!
Reggie digs a quick forearm into Tatiana’s side!
JC: Oh! That was almost a closed fist! Remember, a closed fist punch is an immediate DQ in this match!
JR: Calm down, Jacuinde! He hit her with his forearm! Reggie knows exactly how to push the rules so they bend but don’t break!
TJ’s lips part with a pained grunt from Reggie’s forearm! Reggie tries to reel back another one…
But, TJ immediately transitions: arm drag! The sound of the mat popping under Reggie’s back echoes through the arena.
Reggie rolls up quick, red-faced, embarrassed. Tatiana stands tall again, calm and ready, one hand extended, inviting Reggie to try again!
JC: Oh my! I think TJ’s trying to teach her teammate a little something about wrestling before WarGames!
Reggie’s jaw tightens. He wipes his mouth with the back of his wrist, nods like he’s ready to try that again… He surges off the mat and they lock horns again!
He muscles her into a corner, chest heaving, adrenaline bubbling. The ref steps in — “break it up.” Reggie barely gives a clean break, raising his hands halfway — but his body leans forward, close enough for Tatiana to feel his breath.
Her eyes narrow, but she doesn’t flinch. Instead, she slaps his chest… CHOP!
Reggie’s face flushes red. He backs up a step, then rushes forward again — impulsive — but Tatiana sidesteps with matador precision, sending him stumbling into the ropes. She grabs his wrist, snaps off a quick arm wringer, then transitions to a hammerlock!
JC: Reggie trying as hard as he can to muddle with Tatiana’s prep, but so far Tatiana has kept this match firmly in her wheelhouse! It’s been all technical wrestling from the opening bell, baby!
Reggie grimaces, biting his lip, trying to fight out. His free hand twitches toward the ropes — one rope break burned early would be a disaster. Instead, he drops down, rolls, and counters with a lucha roll, slipping out of Tatiana’s grip!
Both pop to their feet, and resume circling! The crowd applauds the exchange.
Tatiana gives a curt nod, almost approvingly — she appreciates the technique, even if it’s raw. Reggie just sneers back, shaking his arm out. He’s frustrated, but that hint of respect stings more than any hold.
JC: You can see the contrast clear as day! Tatiana’s trying to have a wrestling lesson, and Reggie Estrada’s tryin’ to have a fight!
JR: Reggie’s gotta realize he can’t out-wrestle Tatiana… so he’s gotta force her to play his game! If he can’t do that, this one might already be over!
Tatiana steps forward again, looking for another lock-up — but this time, Reggie ducks low, hooks a leg, and takes her down in a quick double-leg.
JR: There we go! Reggie finally escaping the technical wrestling, forcing TJ to the mat!
He goes for a grounded headlock… but Tatiana immediately rolls him through, snaring his arm in a lightning-fast cross armbar attempt!
Reggie’s eyes go wide — pure panic — and he scrambles for the ropes, foot dragging over the bottom one.
| ROPE BREAK! Reggie Estrada has two remaining! |
Reggie sits up, glaring. He slaps the mat, furious, but Tatiana just adjusts her elbowpads and smirks.
JC: Wow! The first moment it felt like Reggie was in the driver’s seat and Tatiana uses it to make Reggie burn his first rope break!
JR: That’s how dangerous Jolee is, Jacuinde! You think you’re taking control, but you’re just playing right into her hands…
Reggie rises to his knees, breathing heavy, muttering to himself Tatiana, feeling in control and seeking to keep it… takes a slow, deliberate step in for another lock up!
Reggie meets her halfway for the lock-up — then ducks under, slides behind, and slaps the back of her head. Not hard. Just disrespectful.
The audience lets out a collective oooh!
JC: Wow! Absolute Dis-Re-SPECT from Reggie Estrada!
JR: I admire him trying to shock his opponent… but that strike carries a dangerous risk of making Tatiana Jolee mad AND focused!
Tatiana freezes in place — her spine straightens, and her eyes widen just a fraction. For half a heartbeat, her calm demeanor falters. Her breathing changes — quicker, shallower.
She turns her head, slowly, to glare at him.
Reggie’s smirking ear-to-ear, hopping from one foot to the other, like that smack gave him a second wind.
JC: Reggie loves pissing people off… and he just pissed Jolee off more than possibly anyone else since she signed with the XWF!
Reggie bounces again, feinting another lock-up — this time shooting low. Tatiana sprawls perfectly, countering his momentum. She slides into a front facelock, cinching tight — her expression focused, jaw set. The crowd applauds her technique.
Reggie grimaces, twisting, trying to push her off. She maintains control, wrenching his neck…
But Reggie, in a flash, e grabs her wrist, uses his legs to roll, and twists into a sudden hammerlock. Tatiana’s eyes flicker… as she widens her stance… and rolls through, breaking free, returning to neutral collar-and-elbow. Reggie stays crouched, a grin tugging his mouth, as he widens his stance, securing his base.
JC: Reggie trying to make wrestling him as annoying as possible! Doing everything he can to make it a slog to bring him down with chain wrestling so TJ gets frustrated and tries something else!
They circle again, jockeying for control in the collar-and-elbow… when suddenly, Estrada sweeps Jolee’s leg this time. Tatiana lands on one hip — a clean, controlled fall, but her expression hardens. Reggie immediately goes for a grounded headlock, pressing down with his forearm. He’s too close, too frantic — and Tatiana feels that sloppiness. She breathes out slowly, snake-like, and works her way up to a knee, battling off the mat!
JC: Wrestling Tatiana Jolee is like wrestling a grappling machine! If you make one inefficent move, she’s already escaped and starting to turn the tables back on you!
TJ’s eyes are focused now, unblinking. As Reggie tries to apply torque, dragging Jolee back down to the mat… TJ posts on one foot, pivots her hips, and uses his momentum against him — back suplex from a kneeling base!
JR: Absolutely flawless sequence there by Tatiana Jolee!
The crowd claps rhythmically. Reggie rolls away, clutching his lower back.
Before TJ can follow-up, Reggie slaps the mat again, this time standing up fast — too fast — and stumbles forward before regaining balance.
He charges for another lock-up — but instead of grappling, he shoves her!
Tatiana stumbles back a step, regaining her footing.
JC: Oh man… it feels like the tension is heating up between TJ and Estrada!
JR: Straight-up! If the goal of organizing this match was to get these two on the same page… I think all it’s done is help these two realize they don’t like each other!
TJ straightens her posture, brushing imaginary dust from her gear, and steps forward again — slow, unflinching, her gaze locked on him.
Reggie fidgets, bouncing side to side, trying to stay hyped… The two circle… Reggie feints another lock-up, then slaps her arm down hard.
Tatiana’s reaction is immediate: her jaw clenches, her nostrils flare, and this time she grabs him — snatches his arm and twists it into a tight hammerlock, then transitions into a wristlock takedown!
JC: Tatiana’s had enough! Estrada’s games might’ve gotten her riled up, but she’s managing to channel that frustration into control!
Reggie grits his teeth, trying to roll to the ropes again, but Tatiana holds him center-ring. He plants a boot, pushes up, then dives forward into a sudden roll — flipping her momentum — and somehow escapes again.
JR: Another miraculous escape by Estrada! And you can feel the frustration mounting for Tatiana Jolee!
Reggie rises back to a vertical base… He wipes his mouth and taunts Tatiana, stretching his neck like he’s just getting warmed up…
Tatiana exhales slowly through her nose, recalibrating…
Jolee steps forward with controlled precision, her stance narrow and low. Reggie sees it and smirks — he thinks he’s got her pattern memorized. He springs forward, aiming for a wild single-leg takedown—but Tatiana’s already countering, pivoting on one heel and letting him tumble past her like wind through a door. She hooks an arm, rolls through, and traps him in a grounded hammerlock, perfectly centered in the ring.
Reggie’s mouth twists open in pain. His free hand flails for the ropes, but they’re far — too far.
Tatiana applies subtle pressure, her expression calm again — serene, almost meditative.
JC: it’s amazing watching Tatiana Jolee wrestle… Every second she holds him, she reclaims a piece of control.
JR: I imagine this is what it feels like watching a surgeon at work… Y’know, if you believed in surgery. Which I don’t. I think it’s a trick.
JC: Joe, I’ve come to enjoy working with you over the last couple shows, please don’t ruin it by sharing any of your beliefs with me.
Reggie plants a foot, pushes upward — his face flushed, veins popping. He uses raw strength, forcing them both to a vertical base.
JC: Reggie manages to get himself from being grounded… but Tatiana’s still got him in a hold!
Reggie tries an elbow — careful not to use a closed fist — but she anticipates it, catching his arm mid-swing and converting the hammerlock into a cross-faced chicken wing.
Reggie’s mouth opens in a grimace, eyes wide.
He flails, trying to lift her, but she stays glued to his back, her boots pivoting with every twist. When he finally finds the ropes, his hand hits them hard — second rope break burned.
| ROPE BREAK! REGGIE ESTRADA HAS ONE REMAINING! |
JC: Oh my! That’s the second rope break for Reggie! He’s got one left… and if we’re being realistic, Reggie’s come nowhere close to making Tatiana burn one of hers!
Tatiana releases and backs off immediately, raising her hands in perfect sportsmanlike compliance.
Reggie stays on his knees, clutching his neck and shoulder, shooting her a glare through strands of sweat-matted hair. He shoves off the ropes and charges TJ!
Jolee shoots in low, hooks a leg, and sweeps him down clean. She floats over to a front facelock, wrenching tight again. Reggie squirms — frustration written across his face.
JC: This is the first time in many years it looks like Reggie’s the one getting frustrated, Joe!
JR: Tatiana’s brilliance is showing here, Jacuinde! She’s so mechanical, so pure in wrestling technique, that it’s actually proving impossible for a chaos bringer like Reggie to break the mold!
Reggie bucks his hips and rolls, breaking free by sheer persistence, but he’s too tired to capitalize. Tatiana meets him standing again, flowing seamlessly into another sequence — arm drag, hold maintained, pressure reapplied!
Reggie’s chest heaves, eyes darting around, searching for something — anything — to shake her off-balance. His gaze flicks toward the turnbuckles.
The crowd senses it too — a buzz builds.
He shoves her off, sprints to the corner, and scales the middle rope in one motion. The crowd comes alive.
Tatiana’s eyes flash wide — that brief flash of fear of heights, of aerial chaos — just long enough for Reggie to launch a diving crossbody!
He connects!
Reggie lands half on her, hooks a leg!
ONE!
TWO!
THR-NO! Tatiana bridges out!
JC: What an upset that would have been for Reggie Estrada!
Reggie tries to scramble back to his feet… but before he can, from the mat, Tatiana hooks his arm — butterfly hold! She cinches it tight, wrenching both shoulders.
Reggie yells out — agony and frustration blending into one raw sound. He tries to twist out, but she pulls him down, transitions to a grounded triangle attempt.
The crowd gasps!
[white]JC: This is disastrous for Estrada! Jolee has him grounded on the mat and is transitioning him from hold-to-hold, each more difficult toe scape than the last!
Reggie’s eyes dart everywhere. He’s trapped again — too far from the ropes. His body tenses… and then relaxes.
…IN A SUDDENT SURGE OF STRENGTH! Estrada lifts her up while still trapped, gritting through the pain, and slams her back-first into the turnbuckles!
The crowd roars.
JC: Wow! I didn’t know Reggie had that in him!
JR: That’s Reggie, Jacuinde! Just when you think he’s done for, he pulls out one more trick up his sleeve!
Tatiana’s back slams against the turnbuckle… She stumbles forward… Reggie measures and swings…
DISCUS LARIAT!
…Tatiana ducks.
Hooks the arm.
Trips the leg.
CALGARY CRIPPLER (Captain’s Hook)!
JC: Calgary Crippler! She’s got it dead center, Joe!
JR: This one might just be over!
The crowd erupts — she’s got it locked dead center!
Reggie’s eyes bulge, mouth open in pain — his free hand clawing at the mat, the ropes, anything…
Reggie tries to twist — Tatiana adjusts her grip, tighter. His fingertips stretch toward the ropes — an inch short…
The ref’s watching closely. The audience is on their feet, anticipating a submission!
…Reggie’s arm shakes!
…When suddenly, Reggie rolls backward, flipping her shoulders down!
JC: Another shocking Estrada counter!
ONE!
TWO!
THR-Tatiana releases to avoid the pin, breaking her own hold. She rolls through to her feet, eyes blazing — and Reggie, flat on his back, just grins through the pain.
…Both competitors slowly rise off the mat,
Tatiana shoots low, sharp and sudden, her shoulder digging into Reggie’s thigh. The crowd pops as she chains one, two, three transitions—ankle pick into a half nelson, rolling him down into a front facelock!
But Reggie wriggles like a live wire, thrashing and flailing—his wild movements jolt her balance just enough for him to roll her into the ropes!
| ROPE BREAK! TATIANA JOLEE HAS TWO ROPE BREAKS REMAINING! |
JC: Tatiana finally burns a rope break in this match!
JR: Controversial! Her body barely brushed against the ropes! Bad call by the official perhaps!
Tatiana pushes up to her knees, just as Reggie lunges in with a sudden lock-up, then slaps her cheek on the break!
JC: Reggie refusing to pay Tatiana Jolee even a modicum of respect! Despicable!
JR: But you can see the gears turning in Reggie’s mind, Jacuinde! Something’s coming together in his head, even if we can’t see it yet!
Tatiana freezes, blinking once—her body trembling with the effort not to retaliate. The ref warns Reggie, but he’s already backing away, palms up, feigning innocence.
Then TJ pounces—snatching him into a tight hammerlock, twisting his arm like a mechanic working a stubborn bolt. She sinks her hips and rolls through into the Butterfly Submission, her muscles taut, jaw clenched. Her face is determination—until Reggie starts… smiling.
But Reggie shifts his weight suddenly—forcing her grip to tighten, her hands locking at his upper shoulder. Her knuckles press hard against his chin. She’s forced to ball her fist to keep control of the torque—just for a second—
—and that’s when Reggie throws his head back.
INTO TJ’S FIST!
JC: Wait… Reggie’s diving into TJ’s right hand! What the hell’s he doing?!?
CRACK.
Her knuckles smash flush into his jaw. The sound echoes like a gunshot.
The crowd gasps in unison. Tatiana’s eyes go wide. She immediately releases the hold, both hands raised in horror. “No—no, that wasn’t—I didn’t—”
The referee has no choice. He’s already calling for the bell.
DING DING DING!
| WINNER BY DISQUALIFICATION: REGGIE ESTRADA! |
JC: …Oh my God! Estrada played Jolee! Reggie Estrada baited her into that closed fist then got her to punch him with it!
JR: Absolutely genius, Jacuinde! Any halfwit can break the rules, but a true artist can make his opponent break the rules! Reggie found the way to pull off yet another upset! He beat Tatiana Jolee at a Pure Wrestling Rules match! Unfathomable!
Reggie sprawls on the mat, rubbing his jaw, eyes gleaming with perverse satisfaction. The ref lifts his arm, and he lets it flop halfway up before raising it himself with a grin.
Tatiana storms over, pointing furiously, explaining, pleading—but the ref keeps his ground
Reggie, still on the mat, suddenly lifts a hand and makes the Choke gesture. Slow. Deliberate. Mocking.
Tatiana lunges—but the referee steps between them, arms out. The crowd’s roaring now, half in fury, half in shock.
JC: This does not bode well for Roxy Cotton’s WarGames team. You can see the anger on Tatiana’s face—she’s not gonna forget this anytime soon.
JR: Don’t be so sure, Jacuinde! This might have been exactly what both these competitors needed! Tatiana needed a wakeup call to make her game as tight as possible going into WarGames… and Reggie needed a chance to test his absolutely craziest strategies… going into WarGames? Both these two might be as dangerous as they’ve ever been in their careers!
JC: Folks, the show rolls on and we have… plainly, NO idea what’s about to happen!
JR: If Elon Musk is involved, you gotta assume it’s gonna be some big brain level stuff at play!
JC: No doubt, Joe! The last time we saw Elon Musk, he was… Furious! At Spooky Night Savage, he came out with the Trillionaires and called Jennie Nickles… a number of unkind names for destroying his most valued wrestling creation, The Grok!
JR: And then she fucked the Grok!
JC: …This is a family program, Rogan.
…
JC: But, correct. That seemed to disturb Elon, perhaps even more than her destroying his creation was… simulating… copulatory activities… with it…
JR: We thought maybe that was the last we’d seen of the Grok. Little did we know, when the card for Warfare dropped, we’d see the name ‘Grok 2.0’! What could that possibly mean?
JC: If there’s one guy who can handle a challenge like Grok 2.0, though? It’s gotta be The Tactilizing One! Larry Tact!
"In the Face of Evil" by Magic Sword reverberates over the PA. Row after row, aisle to aisle, fans rise from their seats throughout the arena and cheer, knowing one of their workhorses is about to appear!
As the second, third, and fourth chords of the theme reverberate, three spotlights shine down, one over another: A green circle, a gold triangle over it, and a crimson line intersecting the other two. On the Tron, his monikers cycle through one after another:
TACTILIZING ONE
GAME CHANGER
LIMIT BREAKER
From there, the beat triggers the house lights to illuminate the figure of Larry Tact standing on stage. He's looking down as he hones in for the battle ahead.
JC: Larry Tact! TPW Hall of Famer! Multiple time World Champion!
JR: Truly, a master of every aspect of competing in the ring, Jacuinde!
JC: No doubt, Joe! There’s a reason Kieran King drafted him onto his team for WarGames. Larry is a dark horse candidate for a deep run to the Finals… And just because he’s a teammate with the Universal champion… We learned earlier tonight that the person that obtains the winning pinfall in the final… WILL become the new Universal champion! Even if they don’t pin Kieran King to do it!
JR: It’s a major shift to the formula, Jacuinde, and a brilliant move by the Trillionaires! All three of Kieran’s teammates are his allies… Until there’s only one person left to eliminate… Then, it’s a race to whoever can finish the match off!
JC: To borrow a phrase from the man walking to the ring right now? Best Game Wins. And almost no one plays a better game than the multi-time world champion, Larry Tact. Could we see him exit WarGames with the Universal title around his waist?
After a few seconds, Tact whips his head up and trudges to one side of the stage, firing up the fans by pointing towards different sections. He goes to the other side of the stage and beats his chest with a hand before opening his arms to the reaction of the crowd.
"THIS IS YOUR SPOTLIGHT!" Larry bellows as the audience hoots and hollers back. He returns to center stage and points to either side of the crowd. The lights cut out except for green, gold, and crimson spotlights highlighting the audience in attendance. Larry makes his way down to the ring, pounding fists with some fans at ringside before hanging onto the middle rope and pulling himself up onto the apron.
Facing the stands, he opens his arms up and puffs his chest out to receive the feverish energy of his supporters. Wiping his boots on the apron, Tact proceeds into the ring. He climbs a turnbuckle and again holds his arms out.
“BEST GAME WINS!!!” he exclaims to another pop before descending and making his final preparations for the match.
…
DO YOU GRASP WHAT THE GROK IS IMPLYING?
The lights in the arena dim as the announcer's voice booms over the sound system, introducing the next wrestler. Suddenly, Grok’s Theme fills the arena, and the crowd erupts into cheers as a bright spotlight illuminates the top of the ramp.
JC: Here we go! Grok 2.0 is online!
…
”CUT THE MUSIC! CUT THE MUSIC!”
Suddenly, Elon Musk bursts from behind the curtain, holding a microphone.
JC: Oh jeez. Elon is usually Grok’s valet at ringside… What the hell’s he doing here without The Grok?
JR: All I know is it’s about to change the whole Game!
Elon holds the microphone under his chin, staring daggers at the ring.
”Mister Tact. I have nothing against you personally.”
JC: …Not a great way to start an address.
JR: I mean, it’s fine. Unless it’s going to be followed by a ‘but’...
”BUT!”
JR: Oh no!
”You’ve been drafted by King Kieran. Who foolishly conducted his business in a way that INCONVENIENCES ME. Making contractual obligations that my associates and I have inherited. Creating… INEFFICIENCIES in my business.”
JR: Ooooh, those are all unforgivable transgressions for a control freak like Elon Musk!
JC: And it sounds like Larry Tact is about to be punished for Kieran’s strategic contracting!
”So, unfortunately, Mister Tact… tonight? Because you pose yourself as an ally to my enemy? That makes us enemies. And I will be using this opportunity… To ELIMINATE you.”
Elon chuckles villainously… Inside the ring, Tact crosses his arms impatiently, gesturing for Elon to get his Bond villain monologue over with and send in the Grok already…
”In fact, I was so focused on plotting your DESTRUCTION… I missed a typo on the fight card tonight…”
JC: …Typo on the fight card?
”See… You’re not fighting Grok 2.0…”
Elon shakes his head as his evil smile widens…
”You’re fighting… 20 GROKS!”
JC: What?!? Twenty Groks!?!
JR: It only took one to beat a monster like ENIGMA! Larry’s gonna face TWENTY?!?
All of a sudden, TWENTY GROKS burst through the curtain…
…Well, smaller Groks…
JC: The original Grok stood at 6’5”... these ones all seem to be around… 5 foot?
JR: Four-foot-nine-and-three-quarters-inches. I can tell from a hundred paces how tall another man is.
JC: …Fascinating ability, Joe. It seems Elon used the broken pieces from the original Grok and re-forged them into… Twenty mini-Groks!
Each of the Groks poses in front of Elon… All dropping their shades simultaneously as they say in unison…
DO YOU CONCEIVE OF WHAT THE GROKS ARE COMPUTIN’
The music resumes as the Groks roll down the ramp to the ring!
THE GROK SAYS
THE GROK SAYS
THE GROK SAYS
JC: This is absolutely insane, Joe! Larry Tact is going to fight the Groks… ONE versus TWENTY!
As The Groks reaches the ring, they surround and all climb up to the apron at once… The official stands beside Larry, desperately trying to maintain order, demanding only one enter the ring to start this match…
LARRY TACT
- vs -
20 GROKS
Elimination Match |
JR: …I feel for a match like this, we can do a better pre-match graphic. Jamie, could you throw something together real quick?
JR: Hell yeah, Jamie. Hell yeah.
Larry spins, daring one of them to come at him first…
One Grok in front of Larry raises his arms, like he’s prepared to do the honors… Tact beckons him forward with two hands daring him to step up… He slowly dips his head between the ropes…
…But as he does, another Grok slips through the ropes behind Tact…
JC: Looks like the Groks are starting early, playing the damn numbers game!
JR: Hey, if you got the numbers on your side, you’d be a fool not to play the numbers game!
The Grok in front of Larry keeps slowly rolling in… Stretching himself, letting one leg creep over the middle ropes… One foot dangle over the mat…
Larry rolls his eyes, barking at him to hurry u-
WHAM! The Grok behind Larry hits Tact with a chop block, dropping him to the mat!
JC: A dirty trick by the Groks!
JR: Larry’s lengthy career has put a lot of miles on that knee! If the Groks are looking for a weak point, that’s a viable one to take Larry down with!
Tact drops, squeezing that knee, as suddenly, the nineteen Groks on the apron all start jaw-jacking and heckling Larry from the outside for falling for that obvious ploy… Meanwhile, the Grok that pulled the attack, grabs Larry by the scruff of the neck and up to his feet!
JC: I suppose that makes the Grok that attacked Larry the legal man to start off for Team Grok!
JR: Legal machine, you mean!
JC: Fair point, Joe!
Grok lifts Tact’s head and… WHAM! Right handed smack to the face! Backing Larry up into the corner!
A second!
A third!
Larry’s back rests against the corner as Grok stares at his own hand! He reels back delivering…
ANOTHER SMACK!
…
But Larry ducks under!
Grok surges forward into the corner! And all at once, the nineteen trash-talkin’ Groks go silent!
The Grok in the ring spins around out of the corner…
STRAIGHT INTO A LARRY TACT HUMBLING! (Uranage Suplex)!
The legal Grok’s sunglasses crack as Larry goes for the cover!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
JC: Larry got the pin!
JR: But it’s an elimination match, Jacuinde! That’s only step one… Out of Twenty!
JC: How the Hell is Larry supposed to survive this, let alone win?!?
JR: That’s just it, Jacuinde! I don’t think Elon set-up this match for Larry to do either!
Before Larry can even lift himself from the pinned Grok, another Grok storms through the ropes, stompin’ the back of Tact’s skull! Tact cradles his neck as the new legal Grok keeps stompin’ the back of Tact’s head!
Tact lifts his arm to guard his skull, trying to block the Grok’s strikes… But the Grok merely changes targets to attack Tact’s now-exposed ribs!
JC: The Grok’s auto-targeting systems means he’s always looking for an opening! Always seeking the most vulnerable part to his opponent!
Tact, feeling brutalized on the mat, forces his way up to his knees… But the Grok merely shifts into a front-face lock, immediately shooting Tact into an Irish whip into the ropes…
Tact tries to build up speed into a sprint for a counter…
WHAM! But a couple Groks on the apron CLUB Tact over the back of the head as he hits the ropes!
JC: The damn numbers game again!
Tact stumbles forward… into a spinebuster slam from the legal Grok in the center of the ring!
JC: Oh no! Larry Tact is in trouble!
The Legal Grok rises up from the spinebuster… taking off his sunglasses… and an elbow pad!
JR: I think we’re about to see the Most Electrifying Move in Consumer Electronics-based Sports Entertainment! The Elon Elbow!
Grok kicks Larry’s arm to above his chest! Crosses his arms!
He runs to one side of the ropes! Bounces off!
He hits the other side of the ring…
ELON ELBOW!
…
No! As Grok hits the ropes, Larry kips up off the mat!
Scoops Grok onto his shoulders into Torture Rack position…
T-T-TACTILIZER (Spinning sitout powerbomb)!
Larry holds the cover!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
JR: I can’t believe it! Larry countered the Elon Elbow!
JC: … I mean, I think it’s pretty believable. The Grok had an advantage and then set-up a move that took like… twenty-five seconds of running to execute on.
JR: Regardless, Larry’s eliminated two Groks! But, there’s still eighteen to go!
Another Grok charges in, booting the back of Larry’s head… Larry doesn’t bother guarding, forcing himself upright, tanking through the diminutive mini-Grok’s strikes…
Grok delivers a boot to the gut! Larry bends over! Grok goes for a DDT!
…BUT Larry counters into a northern lights suplex!
He bridges the pin!
ONE!
TW-WHAM! Another Grok steps through the ropes and boots Larry in the stomach!
JC: The Groks deciding they’re done letting Larry get free eliminations! He’s gonna have to work for each one from here!
The interrupting Grok, while being chided by the official to get back on the apron, orders the other Grok to help him get Larry up on his feet…
They both manage to back Larry in the ropes… A tandem Irish whip!
Larry sprints toward the ropes… Where two more Groks go to club Larry on the back of the head!
…But this time, Larry catches both with clotheslines! The Groks get dumped off the apron! The other Groks scatter, trying to help their bowled-over Grok brethren up!
JC: Larry’s building up steam here!
Both the Groks inside the ring bend over for a tandem back body drop…
But Larry catches one… FACEBUSTER! Grok drops to his back, cradling his face, rolling to the outside…
The other Grok rises up… Larry delivers a boot to the stomach! Powerbomb position…
STAR POWER!
JC: Larry hits another finisher!
JR: And the other Groks are all out of sorts from Larry attacking the Groks on the apron!
Larry makes the cover!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
…Larry stands up, for once, not immediately getting attacked after a pin… daring the next Grok to enter the ring with him…
JC: I don’t think this is how Elon imagined this match going! Thus far, Tact has been absolutely unbeatable!
JR: And Tactilizing!
The remaining Groks huddle up outside the ring, one occasionally peeking out to check that Larry’s still in the ring…
They all seem to form an agreement on how to proceed…
…
AND ALL SEVENTEEN CHARGE THE RING!
JR: Oh my! It looks like the Groks are done taking turns! They’re all going at Tact at the same time!
JC: That’s definitely against the rules!
Tact catches one… two… three! With right hands! But the fourth and the fifth managed to catch Larry first with open-handed smacks, driving him to the ropes! A sixth one catches him with a right hand that drives him over the top ropes and out of the ring!
JC: The official’s completely lost control of this one!
Larry somehow manages to land on his feet… And then ducks under the apron curtain and slips under the ring!
JC: Tact making a tactful escape perhaps!
JR: He’s just under the ring, Jacuinde! He’s trapped like a rat with 17 Groks on his tail!
Indeed, the Groks roll under and step through the ropes, each surrounding the spot that Larry just slipped under the ring at…
One Grok ushers the others around the spot…
He holds up three fingers…
Two…
One…
He lifts the curtain!
And all the Groks stomp!
…
But Larry’s not there!
JC: These mini-Groks have the same intelligence as guards from Metal Gear Solid One…
JR: What was that noise?!? …Must have been the wind.
Suddenly, the curtain lifts from behind the Grok! And Tact emerges…
![[Image: why-triple-h-uses-a-sledgehammer-in-wwe-...ankind.jpg]](https://static0.thesportsterimages.com/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/why-triple-h-uses-a-sledgehammer-in-wwe-explained-origins-in-1999-feud-with-mankind.jpg)
WITH A SLEDGEHAMMER!
JC: Tact’s got a hammer!
The first Grok steps up!
WHAM! A sledgehammer shot blasts him over the railing and into the front row!
Another Grok steps up!
WHACK! Tact blast the mini-Grok straight down! The 4’9” Grok is now 4’4” as the lights go off in his LED display!
Another Grok charges forward, ducking a Tact hammer shot… His arm in position for a…
GROK BOTTOM!
But Tact elbows him off!
Grok spins in place!
And Tact CRANKS him under the chin with a sledgehammer! His neck ascends like a goddamned Rockem Sockem Robot!
JC: Larry Tact is cleaning house!
The other Groks start retreating up the ramp as the official rings the bell!
JC: The official is throwing this one out! But it looks like Larry is still chasing the Groks to the back, like a game of whack-a-mole!
JR: If Elon’s plan was to take out Tact before WarGames… I think all he did was give him a warm-up!
JC: Well Joe we got an incoming barn burner between two War Games participants, the impressive newcomer Kristoffer Arroyo and the dollface with a mean streak Sarah Wolf!
JR: No doubt bro, no doubt. For my money I gotta go with Sarah on this one. She’s trying to build back after her tough loss of the TV Championship to a man she knows well in Dickie Watson.
JC: Joe I’m actually kind of impressed with you, that was….
JR: Plus Sarah’s fucking HOT! She seems like she could stomp on my balls and make me like it.
JC: Aaaaaand there it is.
JR: ….what?
The lights fade out suddenly. As her theme begins. the lights flicker on slowly and steadily, until they maintain a muted version of themselves, which Sarah stands in the middle of the entrance way. The lights follow Sarah as she slowly makes her way to the ring. On either side of her are no hands outreached, no fans trying to gain her attention. Just angry faces and concerned looks. Sarah steps into the ringside area, and moves to the ring area, rolling in, and rolling to her feet. She positions herself in the corner of her choosing, and waits.
The arena is bathed in a deep red light that brings out the shadows in every nook and cranny as "Deep Set" by Greg Puciato starts to play. Kristoffer Arroyo steps through the entrance way, looking cool and confident behind his bright pink shades. Then, sliding up behind him comes Samael Dyson. He saunters down to the ring, taking his time and seeming to savor the moment before suddenly exploding into a slide into the ring as Samael rolls under the bottom rope and hops up to his feet, waggling his tongue at a disgusted Sarah Wolf. Kris then steps through the ropes onto the ring apron, where he wraps his legs around the middle rope and hangs himself upside down with his arms outstretched like an inverted cross. He smiles for the camera, revealing long sharpened incisors, before sitting up and rolling up and over the top rope and to the canvas. Meanwhile, Samael keeps teasing the fact that he might approach Sarah Wolf but never does. Sarah, with an evil grin, beckons Samael to make good on his threat, but instead he waves a hand at her dismissively and gets to the outside as Kris takes up a position in the center of the ring.
JC: Can’t say that I’m loving Samael’s presence here at ringside.
JR: Who does? The dude’s a creep.
JC: Sarah’s going to need to keep her head on a swivel in this match.
Kristoffer ‘Vamp’ Arroyo
- vs -
Sarah Wolf
Singles |
The ref signals for the bell and the match gets underway. Sarah draws in on Kris…and Kris immediately goes to spit blood in her eyes! But Sarah just barely ducks out of the way!
JC: Oh what the hell?! Already?!
The ref chastises a demure looking Kristoffer for the attempt but Sarah, irate, pushes the ref aside and attacks Kristoffer, laying into him with brutal closed fist blows before irish whipping Kristoffer into the corner. Kristoffer puts the breaks on before striking the turnbuckle but Sarah immediately follows up with a chop block that downs the newcomer! Sarah then takes hold of Kris’ leg, presumably to lock in some sort of submission, when Kris grabs the bottom rope, forcing a break. Kris gets vertical and and he and Sarah lock up. Kris hits a standing switch, trying to suplex Sarah up and over, but Sarah blocks, hits a reverse elbow, nails her own standing switch and dumps Kris with a bridged German suplex into a pin!
1….
2……..NO! KIckout from Arroyo!
JR: Man, my girl Sarah going to work early in this match. I love the intensity!
JC: Indeed she has been impressive so far but….wait, look!
Samael Dyson is up on the ring apron and threatening to get in the ring. The ref cuts him off and forces him down, but the distraction is enough to allow Kris to nab Sarah in the eye with his thumb as he gets vertical. Arroyo chains the dirty move into a boot to the gut, followed by an evenflow DDT. From there, he flows into a crossface hold….which Sarah counters by biting his wrist! Kris relents, getting off of Sarah. Sarah gets up and gets in Kris’ face, knocking him back with a knee lift to the gut, followed by a european uppercut. Sarah then boots Kris in the midsection again and picks him up for a spike piledriver, but she miscalculates the momentum allowing Kris to counter into a hurricanrana into a pin!
1….
2…..NOPE! Sarah Wolf kicks out!
JC: Some damn fine wrestling in this contest so far mixed with some dirty pool!
JR: Gotta love a little dirty pool. Unless it gives you a urinary tract infection. Happened once when I went to Yungblud’s house. Man’s gotta clean his pool better.
JC: That’s far more information than we needed.
Meanwhile, back in the ring, both performers have locked up in a grapple. Kris uses his superior strength to push Sarah into the corner, where he starts to hammer on her with vicious elbow strikes. Sarah finally escapes by raking his eyes, which draws an admonishment from the ref which she ignores. Just then, Sam Dyson reaches into the ring and grabs Sarah’s ankle, distracting her! Sarah wheels on Sam, and misses the big boot to the face Kris delivers while her attention is away! He covers her again!
1…..
2……NOOOO! Sarah pops the shoulder up!
JC: Samael Dyson is inserting himself into this match any which way he can!
Sarah looks decidedly unhappy as Kris grabs a handful of her hair and pulls her up, popping her up onto his shoulder for a running powerslam. Kris then boots the boots to her while she’s down before pulling her up yet again to go for the ROMEO’S LAMENT! But Sarah reaches up and claws his face, getting out of the move and countering into a stiff kick to Kris’ head, followed by a lariat that takes him down. Sarah then kicks him over onto his stomach and drops down to apply a calf slicer submission hold! The ref gets down on the canvas, asking Kris if he wants to quit. Kris shakes his head “no” but grimaces in pain. But then, Samael Dyson rolls into the ring and drops a fist on Sarah, breaking up the hold!
JC: And again!
JR: Man, this ref needs to get control and eject Sam Dyson.
JC: I agree, this is too much!
The ref berates Sam Dyson for interfering again, and does indeed seem to be threatening to eject him when Sarah pushes past the ref and kicks Sam Dyson right in the jewels! Sam goes down, clutching his manhood and sputtering curses as he rolls out of the ring.
JR: Attagirl, Sarah!
But, with Sarah’s attention again pulled away, Kris leaps up and drops Sarah with a leaping reverse face buster! He covers her!
1….
2…….NOOOOOOO! Another kickout from the former TV champion!
Kris looks frustrated now! He drags Sarah to her feet, spikes her with a kick, picks her up and samoan drops her to the canvas where he locks in a fujiwara armbar! But Sarah is too close to the ropes and grabs the bottom one, forcing a break! Kris breaks the hold, grabs Sarah viciously by the hair and pulls her to center ring where he locks in the arm bar again! The ref asks Sarah if she wants to tap but she screams “no!” at him and fights through the pain. She strikes out wildly with any blows she can muster until finally Kris relents on the hold. They both get vertical again and Kris goes for a forearm shot, Sarah ducks under and lands a nasty roundhouse to Kris’ back, followed by a big boot to his chest when he wheels around. But Kris springs up quickly where Sarah is waiting with another uppercut. She then signals for the DEVILLOCK! But Kris is able to catch her wrist before she can apply the claw! He hits a deep arm drag as a counter, but Sarah spins up fast and they collide mid ring with dueling clotheslines that drop both of them!
JC: These two are so evenly matched here! It’s anybody’s guess who’s going to win!
JR: But we gotta give Sarah mad props for weathering all this interference from Sam Dyson!
After a moment’s respite, both competitors get to their feet, clearly feeling the impact of this match. Kris swings wildly at Sarah, tagging her in the face with a punch, followed by a snap mare takedown, and into a headlock. But Sarah’s foot is under the ropes and the ref forces a break. Kris lets Sarah get to her feet, measuring her before launching into a superkick….but Sarah counters Kris by grabbing his ankle and dropping him down into an ankle lock! Sarah does some damage with the ankle lock before Kris is able to power up and roll out, but Sarah stays on him with a running knee lift to his head as he tries to get up! Sarah covers again!
1…..
2……..KRIS KICKS OUT!
Sarah slaps the mat in frustration, but recovers and drags Kris to his feet. She hits Kris with a spinning back kick, stunning him for just enough time to reel back and spit WOLF’S BLOOD IN HIS EYES……
……EXCEPT KRIS HAD IT SCOUTED! HE PULLS THE REF IN THE WAY AND THE REF GETS A FULL DOSE!
JR (coughing): OHHHH MY GOD I CAN SMELL IT FROM HERE!
JC: The ref is out of commission!
The ref drops to his knees, pawing at his eyes. Sarah curses viciously and returns her attention to Kris, going for a superkick of her own! But Kris ducks and drops her with a twisting leg drag on Sarah’s knee! Sarah goes down, skittering to the ring apron where Sam Dyson is awaiting for her! Sam rushes up to her and….FIREBALL! FIREBALL! Sam Dyson throws fire from out of nowhere into Sarah’s face!
JR: How the hell did he do that?!!
Sarah catches a face full of fire! She cries out in pain, holding her face and staggering to her feet….and right into Kristoffer! Kristoffer wastes no time and drills her skull into the canvas with the ROMEO’S LAMENT! Kris then grabs the referee and barks an order at him to “count goddammit!” The ref, who still can’t even see, obeys the order as Kris gets on top of Sarah for the cover!
1…..
2…….
3!! Sarah Wolf stays down!
| WINNER: KRISTOFFER ARROYO |
JC: Oh this can’t be described as anything but an incredibly tainted victory! Samael Dyson interfered multiple times during the course of this match!
JR: But unfortunately there’s no asterisks in the XWF record books and this is just going to show Vamp as the winner.
Samael Dyson gets back in the ring and derisively boots Sarah out to the floor before turning to celebrate with his guy!
JC: I can only wonder how this might carry over to War Games if these two so happen to meet.
JR: Oh you can bet Sarah’s gonna be maaaaad pissed!
JC: At any rate, hang in there folks we got more action coming your way in just a moment!
The arena lights go dark. A single gold spotlight shines on the stage as the opening notes of King Kunta echoes through the air, the bass kicks in, adn the screen behind the entrance ramp flashes with stark, bold letters:
DO YOU SEE ME NOW?
The silhouette of Isaiah King stands at the top of the ramp, first clenched at his sides, head bowed slightly. His championship belt is slung over his left shoulder, a king with a crown but no kingdom. He has on a black leather coat that cuts off at the top of his white wrestling boots. The long coat has a cracked crown embossed on it's back.
I've got a bone to pick!
Isaiah lifts his head, eyes longed on the ring. The gold spotlight follows his every step as he strides down the ramp, slow and methodical, like a predator closing in on his prey. Hopping onto the ring apron, he holds onto the top rope and stares into the crown, taking in the mixture of boos and cheers coming his way. Sliding through the top and middle rope, he places his title gently down at a corner, before draping his coat against it. He then walks to the center of the ring, spinning in a circle before pointing to his chest - he mouths:
"You thought I was done?"
Bringing his arms across his chest before shooting them down, he lets out a short, emphatic animalistic howl into the air before turning to face his opponent.
JC: ISAIAH KING! A two-time Universal Champion trying to become a two-time winning War Games Captain. But before he can even get to this year’s War Games, he’s going to have to make it past his old teammate. Talk about drama! Talk about high stakes!
JR: Isaiah King and Charlie Nickles have a long, long history! But tonight, none of that matters anymore. Isaiah drafting Charlie? Old news. Charlie interfering with Bacchus to help King pin SEB? Forgotten about! All that matters tonight…is what happens inside that ring!
Charlie Nickles appears at the top of the stage, a devilish grin on his face and a sadistic look in his eye. Dressed in his old rags, The Nickleman walks down the ramp in ‘Classic’ Charlie fashion, mumbling to himself as he stares daggers right into Isaiah’s soul. Charlie quickly slides into the ring under the bottom ropes before heading to his corner and waiting patiently for the bloodletting to commence.
JR: And King’s opponent for tonight, none other than The Nickleman himself! A former Universal Champion in his own right, Charlie Nickles is known for his harsh demeanor and blatant disregard for the safety and wellbeing of others.
JC: Charlie Nickles is a dirty bastard, and he wouldn’t have it any other way!
JR: Tonight’s match is sure to be a good one, so take your seats and buckle up folks, because it’s SHOWTIME!
Isaiah King
- vs -
Charlie Nickles
Singles |
The bell rings and the crowd comes alive in Tulsa. There is no feeling out process. There is no collar and elbow to start. Charlie Nickles and Isaiah King walk straight toward each other like two men who have been waiting for this moment ever since the last War Games.
JC: One year ago Isaiah King drafted Charlie Nickles to his War Games team and they walked out the winners. Tonight, neither man is wearing those same colors.
JR: That is a very polite way of saying this is a custody battle over last year’s team victory!
They fire off at the same time. Isaiah snaps off a straight right. Charlie answers with a clubbing shot across the jaw. Both men stumble, then they collide again and the ring boards pop. Charlie muscles Isaiah back into the corner and starts ramming shoulders into his midsection. Isaiah covers up, waits, and when Charlie leans in for the fourth one Isaiah hooks him in the head with a tight front facelock, pivots him out of the corner and blasts him with a knee to the body.
JC: Both of these guys know how the other moves. They were on the same team in the most demanding match of the year. There is no mystery here.
JR: Yeah this is not who has the better lockup. This is who was the real engine on that War Games squad. You can already hear them arguing with every punch!
Isaiah tries to keep it tight and vertical. He peppers Nickles with short European uppercuts and a forearm across the chest. Charlie gets mad. He swings wide and heavy and catches Isaiah on the side of the head. Isaiah staggers. Charlie stays on him with a big back elbow, then a short headbutt to the bridge of the nose. The referee steps in and warns Charlie to keep it clean. Charlie glares at him, then hauls Isaiah up by the tights and hurls him into the opposite corner!
Charlie charges!
Isaiah lifts a boot!
Charlie catches the boot and slams Isaiah down with a capture slam! Then, Charlie grabs Isaiah by the wrist and drags him toward the ropes. He starts to lariat him over the top but Isaiah twists inside, plants, and kicks Nickles’ knees out from under him. Charlie drops to one knee. Isaiah grabs him in a front headlock again and this time he snaps him over with a suplex that drops Charlie right in the center of the ring.
JC: Isaiah King is wrestling like a man who calls the shots. Calm. Measured. Everything in straight lines!
JR: Yeah and Charlie is the exact opposite! He is pure unhinged momentum. Just a bowling ball that somebody rolled down a hill!
Isaiah stays on him. He stomps the ankle. He drops a knee across the shoulder. Then he floats to side control, grabs the arm and pulls it back in a modified hammerlock. The ref is right there asking Charlie if he wants to quit, but Charlie is just snarling through his teeth.
Isaiah wrenches the arm. Charlie roars and powers up to a knee. He elbows Isaiah in the ribs once, twice, three times. Isaiah finally lets go. Charlie hits the ropes and comes back with a shoulder tackle that flattens Isaiah to the mat.
Charlie does not go for the pin. He simply mounts his former captain. He starts hammering down right hands. The ref counts. One. Two. Three. Four. Charlie does not stop. The ref grabs his arm to pull him off!
JC: The referee is doing everything he can to maintain order in that ring, but Charlie Nickles is making his job tougher than a two-dollar steak!
Charlie jerks his arm free with more force than he needs and the referee stumbles backward. Isaiah rolls away to the ropes. Charlie stalks him and boots him in the ribs. The referee moves in again, more serious this time, and gets right between them.
JC: The official is just trying to keep this match on the rails!
JR: But this match is like two freight trains colliding into each other! It was never going to stay on the rails!
Charlie tries to shove past the ref. Isaiah takes advantage and chops Charlie across the chest! Charlie swings around and the ref is right there. Charlie’s forearm clips the referee right in the side of the head! The ref spins, hits the ropes, and then crumples to the canvas!
JR: That guy is out cold!
JC: Oh, this isn’t good Joe! Now that the referee is down, there’s no one left in there to keep law and order!
Charlie looks down at the ref, breathing hard. He did not mean to take him out but he is not really sorry either. Isaiah looks at the ref too and then at Charlie. For a second it is quiet and you can see them both arrive at the same thought:
No referee.
No control.
No rules.
Isaiah strikes first. Spinning backfist to the jaw. Charlie reels. Isaiah scoops him and rams him into the corner, shoulder to the gut. Charlie fires back with a forearm across the back. Isaiah grabs Charlie by the head and throws him through the ropes to the outside.
JC: They’re spilled out onto the floor now!
JR: And there’s still no sign of a referee!
Isaiah stalks Charlie around the ring and drives him face first into the barricade!
JC: We have no official. We have two main eventers with history. We have War Games on the horizon. Nothing good can happen here!
Charlie fights back with a gut punch. Then another. He grabs Isaiah by the neck and runs him across the ringside area and bounces his head off the ring steps. Isaiah drops to a knee, clutching his face in pain. Charlie looks around, and notices nobody is stopping him. He grabs the top half of the steel steps and shoves them aside. Not to use as a weapon, but just to clear space.
He grabs Isaiah in a front facelock and tries to suplex him on the bottom steps. Isaiah blocks and counters with a snap suplex of his own! Charlie lands hard on the bottom steps! Isaiah sits up, sucking wind, eyes flicking to the ramp as if to see if anyone is coming- but there’s nobody yet.
Isaiah pulls Charlie up and hooks him for a regalplex, but Charlie breaks free and blasts him with a lariat that turns him inside out! Both men collapse on the outskirts of the ring. The crowd is chanting both names, clearly a house divided. The camera catches the referee starting to twitch, but he is still not getting up yet.
JC: This is bad, bad news Joe! Those men can do serious damage to each other outside the ring!
JR: This is why we have cages for every UFC match! It keeps the action contained! But here in the XWF….it’s complete madness![/white]
That is when the crowd turns. A new reaction rises like a wave from the hardcam side….
Jennie Nickles is running down the ramp!
She is not smiling, nor playing to the crowd. She is sprinting frantically like someone just called her and said both her house and her car are on fire!
JC: That is Jennie Nickles. She has only just arrived in the XWF. Charlie freed her from prison, and then Isaiah drafted her to his War Games team! And now her brother is trying to punch his way through her captain! She already cost Charlie a match at Relentless- so one has to ask, is she coming out to do the same thing tonight?!
JR: Oh, this is going to hurt someone’s heart![/white]
Charlie and Isaiah are rising outside the ring, just about to get back into a lock-up when Jennie Nickles suddenly appears between them, shoving them apart! She plants herself between them and puts both hands on both chests while screaming for them to stop!
JR: Wait a second…it looks like she’s trying to break it up! I think she’s trying to stop this match before it gets out of hand!
But they don’t listen: instead, they try to fight past her, with Isaiah sending a well-timed uppercut to Charlie’s jaw, and Charlie responding with an overhand right that cracks Isaiah across the brow!
But Jennie keeps screaming, and she keeps pushing them both away.
“Stop it! Stop it! I need you both.”
That line finally hits. Isaiah actually stops first. He has always had that discipline and control of himself, even in the heat of the moment. He takes a step back, breathing hard, eyes locked on Jennie.
But Charlie hesitates.
His fists are still balled. His jaw is still clenched. He is bleeding from the mouth, yelling at Jennie to move out of the way…but she doesn’t.
“Charlie. I need my War Games captain.”
Jennie says, jerking a thumb behind her toward Isaiah. Then she puts her hand on Charlie’s chest.
“And I need my brother.”
Charlie looks at her hand. Then at her face. Then over her shoulder at Isaiah. Isaiah is watching all of this, with a calmly regal expression etched on his face.
Charlie’s shoulders rise and fall. He looks down at the floor, and at the steel steps he was trying to put Isaiah King through. He could pick them up. He could end this in a way nobody forgets….
But instead, he just hugs his sister.
JC: What an unbelievable turn of events! Jennie Nickles the Peacemaker! I never thought I’d see the day where Charlie’s thirst for depravity was quenched before the blood even spilled!
JR: That’s the power of family in action, right there!
Isaiah nods once like this is the outcome he always predicted. Jennie looks relieved.
The referee finally rolls to his side, and looks outside the ring to see the dislodged steel steps and the clear interferer. The referee sees that he has completely lost control, and he starts motioning immediately.
JC: The referee is awake- and I do not think he liked anything he just woke up to!
JR: You know how mad I would be if I woke up from a nap and there was an extra person in my bed? Call it off. I get it.
The referee waves to the timekeeper and calls for the bell.
The bell rings for a no-contest!
There is a mix of boos and cheers. Not because the fans did not like it, but because they wanted more. Because they wanted blood. Because they wanted a winner!
Charlie takes a step back as Jennie turns back towards King. Isaiah raises a hand toward Jennie in invitation. It is subtle. It is commanding. Jennie looks at him. Then she looks back at her brother who is still standing there, drenched in sweat and anger.
She does not immediately go to Isaiah. She stays with Charlie for a second. She squeezes his arm. Then, she finally steps toward Isaiah. The pair walk up the ramp and head towards the back: presumably to prepare for their upcoming War Games matches.
JC: A year ago they celebrated together after War Games. Tonight they stand on opposite sides and the person in the middle is the person both of them need.
JR: That is how you make something personal. There was no chair shot to the head. There was no officials getting beat up on purpose. There was just a sister who does not want to watch her brother and her captain tear each other apart.
The camera closes in on Jennie’s face. She looks like someone who stopped a fight but did not fix the problem. The crowd starts a soft “Jennie” chant that grows just enough to be heard on the broadcast.
JC: This was supposed to be a co-main event, but it became a family therapy session. And with War Games on the horizon there is no way this is over. Not even close!
The shot fades on Charlie standing alone by the side of the ring, sweat dripping, hands on his hips, staring at the stage where his sister is leaving with the man who drafted her.
JC: And here we are! Our main event of the night! Between two men on the same WarGames team! The Captain and his Number One Pick!
JR: This is an absolutely wild match to have before these two team up… And with Dickie’s Television Title on the line!
The show is quickly interrupted by the sound of a distant synthesizer, followed up by horses neighing and galloping through the dirt. It fades out, leading into the riff of a guitar strumming a fiery tune. There's an inherent electricity building within the air of the arena, culminating as the drums kick in. As they do, the steadfast figure of Scoops McGee comes out from the back, a look of no nonsense etched onto his face as he takes a long look at the crowd and the squared circle.
JC: Scoops McGee has been on the hottest of hot streaks as of late!
JR: No doubt, Jacuinde! Scoops pulled off possibly the biggest victory of his four-decade long career with a win over Sebastian Everett-Bryce! And then he turns around and comes seconds away from pulling a victory in the Captain’s Match over Universal champion Kieran King, coming in second!
JC: Scoops has been on a mission his entire career for his first ever world title… And, as strange as it is to say, at sixty-three years old… It feels like maybe he’s never been closer than this moment in time!
JR: But ironically, Jacuinde! His biggest obstacle to scoring that Universal title at WarGames, besides the Universal champion of course, is the man he’s facing tonight! They’re on the same team, but only one of them can walk out of WarGames with the wrestling industry’s top title!
He nods, steadily walking to the ring and absentmindedly high-fiving any fans stretching out their hands who happen to be right in his way. He makes his way over to ringside, climbing up the steps methodically and stepping onto the ring apron. He saunters about halfway across the apron, taking one last long look at the crowd as they give their reception to the seasoned vet. Scoops stretches his arms out wide, accepting everything they've got to give before stepping into the ring.
Scoops skulks over to his corner, pacing there and doing some small stretches to keep himself warmed up before the match begins.
…
The lights die without warning. Not a fade, but a full blackout that sucks the air out of the arena like the calm before a fire. Then, a strobing light, lime green, flares beneath the metal of the floor. Another, quicker and sharper. A third, holding longer now. Long enough for the crowd to catch a glimpse of the static forming on the screen overhead.
JC: Dickie Watson! The man dedicated above all else to the CLIMB! And he has been climbing every single show!
JR: Very true, Jacuinde! Dickie was a little slow out of the gate, but since then, he’s been absolutely dominant and has strung together some of the most impressive defenses in Television Title history! So impressive, King Kieran the Universal champion seemed interested in trying to recruit him to stand against the Trillionaires as a fellow title holder!
JC: But Kieran picked Kristoffer Arroyo instead with the number one pick! And, as impressive as Kristoffer Arroyo, the very new rookie is… You have to wonder if that’s lit a fire in Dickie’s heart. If the man that’s all about testing mettle in the ring, about showing up or shutting up… Is planning on showing up with everything he’s got at WarGames!
JR: It wouldn’t be Dickie if he didn’t, Jacuinde! There’s no doubt Dickie’s going to bring it at Wargames, just like he’ll bring it tonight… But will it be enough to retain his title against the RED-HOT wrestling legend, Scoops McGee!
The distorted bass of “DEATHLIST” by Code: Pandorum and GHØSTKID blares across the arena’s speaker system low, grinding and industrial. It doesn't start like music, but more like a warning. Like the hum of something broken beneath concrete.The speakers rattle, and with them the crowd begins to stir as the opening continues to play, rhythmic and angry. Noise from the crowd rolls through like a cold draft in a sealed room, a few cheers, a few chants. But mostly unease.
"Do I love you? Or do I hate you?
Can I trust you without failing you?
Gonna tell you what the secret is...
You're number one on my DEATHLIST."
Whispered, the lyric doesn't rise above the crowd but cuts under it, precise and personal. The music drops out completely, not a fade, and not a glitch, just the same as the lights as they die out entirely. But then, detonation as the bass slams back in without warning, twisted and violent, louder than before. Strobe lights erupt in a manic wash of toxic green, casting sharp, flickering shadows across the sate. It's disorienting, like a spotlight wielded as a weapon. Motionless in that moment, Dickie Watson stands framed in light. No grand pose, no war cry, hair falling in his face and shoulders loose like man who doesn't need to prove he belongs here -- he already knows he does.
He holds this, eyes floating over everyone, and then moves a beat later. Not with urgency, not with showmanship. Just steps forward like the rest of the world is moving slower than him. He doesn't look to the sides, doesn't soak it in. He's not here for the moment, he's here for the
thrill. Every movement is precise, like a blade being unsheathed. Quiet, measured. He walks down the ramp towards the ring, eyes still glancing off to the side, turning his head slightly to acknowledge fans and enemies alike. At the barricade, he reaches out and slaps a few hands not necessarily out of respect, but more of
obligation. These are the people who kept him alive for so long, and what he does this for.
He rounds the corner to right, bypasses the steps, and jumps, both feet hitting the apron in one clean lift. Without grabbing the ropes, without pause, he slings himself over the top and lands near the dead center of the ring, bent knees taking the brunt of his leap. He circles the ring once, loose-limbed, cracking his neck slightly, and stops. Near the far corner, he crouches with his elbows on his knees, fingers dangling inbetween as his music fades.
XWF Television Championship
Dickie Watson ©
- vs -
Scoops McGee
15 Minute Time Limit |
The bell rings, sharp and echoing through the hum of the crowd — not rowdy yet, but expectant.
Dickie Watson circles the ring first, light on his feet, chest rising and falling in short, rhythmic breaths.
Scoops McGee stands opposite, rolling his stiff neck, left forearm flexing with a deliberate rotation.
They step in for the first lock-up.
JC: “You can feel it already, Joe — that’s not just tension. That’s history in there. These two are fighting with more than just gold on the line!”
JR: “Yeah, I mean look, Scoops is old-school tough — 63 years old, bro. He’s got a left forearm like a cinder block. But Dickie? That kid doesn’t read body language, he translates it. This is gonna be chess versus blunt force trauma.”
They tie up — Scoops’ forearms clench with that old-farmer grip, hands like vises. Dickie grimaces, eyes flashing wide for a microsecond — not from pain, but calculation. He leans back, allowing Scoops to use his strength against himself. Scoops presses forward, thinking he’s driving momentum — his mouth curls upward, teeth bared in brief satisfaction — but Dickie slips under, pivoting and snapping into a quick waistlock.
Scoops huffs through his nose, a gruff exhale betraying his surprise. He lowers his base, shoving back, and Dickie barely avoids being crushed into the corner. The older man’s breathing grows audible — a grunt, then a scoff.
Dickie keeps his grip tight for just a moment longer than necessary — a small statement. Then he lets go, stepping back, offering space with a cautious nod.
He lifts that infamous left arm, rotates it slowly, almost like he’s winding up a warning. His eyes narrow.
[white]JC: You can feel the electricity in the crowd right now… They know it only takes one Cattle Prod for Scoops to turn a match in his favor!
JR: But he’s gotta hit it, Jacko! Scoops is used to working a slow, deliberately paced match… but he’s on the clock right now!
The competitors circle again. Scoops lunges first — big, lumbering, but still sharp — a grab at the collar-and-elbow again, but Dickie side-steps and fires off a low kick to the thigh. Thwack. Scoops grits his teeth, blinking once, quick and annoyed. His knee wobbles slightly.
JR: Scoops McGee is one tough sunovabitch! But you can see it in his eyes — that one stung!
Scoops answers with a hard shove, both palms striking Dickie’s chest and sending him into the ropes. Dickie rebounds… where Scoops is ready for an old-school Texas Lariat!
…No! Dickie ducks the wild lariat Scoops throws, slides behind, grabs the waist again — quick rollup attempt — but Scoops blocks it, sprawling down and catching Dickie with a forearm to the back!
JC: Fascinating clash of styles here! Both these men are used to disrupting their opponent’s flow, forcing them to adapt! Dickie’s trying to outgrapple the brawler Scoops, but Scoops is managing to tank his way through Dickie’s technical efforts!
Scoops manages to scoop Dickie into a seated full nelson hold! Dickie jerks forward with a wince, blinking hard. He plants one knee, pushes up slow through McGee’s grapple, and spins, breaking Scoops’ grip, facing his challenger once more!
WHAM! Right hand to the jaw!
Scoops staggers back a step-and-a-half… Briefly favoring his cheek… but smiling, like hell yeah, that’s how he likes it!
JC: Scoops is smiling after Dickie caught him with that right hand! Did it not hurt?
JR: I think it did, Jacuinde! And I think that’s why Scoops is smiling! He’s glad to see Dickie’s got some gumption and grit to him!
Dickie goes for a collar-and-elbow follow-up…
WHAM! Cattle Prod straight to the chest!
The crowd pops! Scoops’ left hand penetrates Dickie’s grapple and catches him, stinging right above the heart!
Dickie drops to one knee! Scoops charges forward, looking to put ‘er away…
But Dickie shoves Scoops backwards with both hands… forcing himself up to his feet!
JC: …Holy cow! Dickie took a cattle prod and is still ticking!
JR: Ticking’s a strong word, Jacuinde! That one had to have hurt like a motherfucker! But Dickie’s tough as shit too! These two are testing each other’s limits because in two weeks they’re gonna need to know them
Dickie’s eyes narrow, scanning Scoops’ stance — the left forearm still twitching, still there, a phantom threat. He takes a deep breath, then steps forward with renewed tempo. A feint high — a shoulder twitch that draws Scoops’ reaction, that heavy left starting to swing…
CATTLE PROD!
…But no! This time, Dickie slips under it, catches the arm, and rolls Scoops through into a surprise…
CRUCIFIX PIN!
JC: Dickie looking to steal this one!
ONE!
TWO!
THR-NO!
Scoops powers out like a shot, muscles coiling and exploding upward. Dickie rolls clear, pops to his feet with wide eyes and a grin — respectful, almost admiring. Scoops sits up, jaw clenched, smirking through the exertion.
JC: I can’t read lips, but I think Scoops just called Dickie a sneaky little bastard!
JR: But he said it with a smile on his face, Jacuinde!
Dickie shifts his stance, leaning slightly right to bait Scoops’ left swing…
JC: Absolutely insane strategy here by the Television champ! It’s like he’s daring Scoops McGee to throw another Cattle Prod!
JR: Dickie’s eaten one already tonight, Jacuinde! He knows about how fast it comes in… Dickie’s thinking he can use that left forearm to open Scoops up like a walnut… If he *can* dodge it every time, it’s the right strategy… If he can’t? It’s the dumbest idea I’ve ever seen!
Scoops lunges with a sharp, whipping forearm — a movement almost too fast for his size.
…But Dickie ducks low, rolling under Scoops’ swing, the impact grazing his shoulder. Dickie manages to roll off to the side, avoiding a follow-up strike from McGee
Scoops grunts as he pivots to face Dickie. He plants both feet firmly, raising that left arm for another strike… In response, Dickie feints a jab to the midsection, forcing Scoops to react, drawing the old man slightly forward. Then — quick as a whip — Dickie spins low, sweeping Scoops’ legs with a calculated leg hook. Scoops grunts, stumbling back… but keeping his footing!
JC: This one’s an old school duel! Two men circling each other, waiting for the other to make a mistake to unleash a KNOCKOUT strike!
JR: This feels like an hour time limit chess match, Jacuinde! But remember, this is a blitz! Scoops can’t afford to wait for Dickie to make a mistake!
Before Dickie can capitalize fully, Scoops re-gathers himself and his base, His body recoils like a loaded spring! Dickie fires a follow-up jab…
But this time, Scoops is the one ducking under! McGee fires a short-range back elbow! It connects with Dickie’s jaw!
Dickie bounces backward, blinking rapidly… His stance lowers, knees flexing, hands raised just enough to bait or block. His face hardens, eyes locking onto Scoops’ forearm, raised once more…
Scoops explodes forward, that infamous left forearm snapping across in a brutal arc...
But Dickie ducks low, letting the motion sail harmlessly above him, then rolls forward and pivots — grabbing Scoops’ waist in a lightning-fast cradle for a pin attempt!
ONE!
Nope! Scoops kicks out immediately, body convulsing slightly as he lands chest-first on the mat.
JC: Scoops kicked out with quickness that time! Dickie’s gotta know he’s not going to catch Scoops off guard with a day one trick like that!
JR: But remember Jacuinde! He doesn’t have to pin Scoops’ shoulders to the mat! Every one of these quick pins helps Dickie, because they all eat time off the clock!
Scoops’ rises slowly, brushing off the mat, hands on knees briefly as he exhales through his nose!
JC: Can’t argue with you there, Joe! Scoops needs to shift gears if he wants to walk out with the TV title… and, by the look on his face, he knows it!
Dickie pops to his feet, fists raised, chest heaving. Sweat drips from his temples, mouth slightly open, a grin flashing …
Scoops straightens fully, pivots toward Dickie with a deliberate, measured gait, forearm still twitching like a loaded weapon. His eyes burn with intention…
Dickie Watson shifts lightly on the balls of his feet, eyes scanning Scoops McGee from brow to boot.
Scoops, in response, coils like a spring, shoulders rolling back to loosen tension before he explodes. His left arm twitches involuntarily — the subtle prelude to his patented forearm strike.
Dickie feints a jab to the ribs, anticipating Scoops will stagger backwards defensively… Scoops reacts immediately, stepping into the jab, arms coming up instinctively!
JC: Scoops going for that Cattle Prod!
…But Dickie ducks low! Watson delivers a quick, snapping kick to Scoops’ knee. The sound echoes — thwack! Scoops’ body jerks instinctively, eyes widening briefly.
[white]JC: Nope! Dick is too quick to get licked!
Scoops’ jaw sets hard, and he straightens, nodding almost imperceptibly.
Scoops lunges, big, deliberate, but Dickie sidesteps with a sharp pivot. He grabs Scoops’ arm in a waistlock and rolls forward, attempting a small German suplex….
CONNECTS! Scoops’ body slams into the mat with authority, as Dickie bridges!
ONE!
TW-Nope! Scoops forces the shoulder up!
JC: Very telling here! Scoops knows he can’t afford to recover by kicking out at two! Time is against him, he’s gotta kick out fast to keep as many seconds on the clock as possible!
As Scoops kicks out, Dickie rolls backwards onto his feet, chest heaving, a small grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Scoops pushes off the mat and advances, a slow, measured approach. His left arm twitches again; that forearm is a loaded threat.
Dickie bounces back lightly, feinting a strike to the midsection, then ducks under Scoops’ incoming forearm and springs to the ropes. He rebounds,, and launches a knee to Scoops’ midsection. The impact makes Scoops grunt, shoulders hunch slightly…
Dickie backs into the ropes, looking for another running strike… but this time Scoops takes off at the same time Watson does! Scoops lunges, catching Dickie mid-move with a shoulder block! Dickie gets taken off his feet!
JC: What a move by Scoops! Dickie looks dazed and confused after that stiff-as-FUCK shoulder block!
Dickie hits the mat hard, exhaling sharply, eyebrows furrowing… Scoops tries to crawl into a mount to lay on some offense with this opening… But Dickie rolls away, knees bouncing, quickly climbing back to a vertical base…
Scoops straightens, head cocking slightly, lips pressed into a thin line.
JC: That might’ve been Scoops’ opening! Dickie’s quickness is frustrating Scoops’ ability to pin him down and sap his will to keep fighting!
Dickie feints a low jab, shoulder dipping, eyes squinting — a subtle psychological lure. Scoops reacts instantly, stepping in to block, forearm snapping up instinctively.
Dickie ducks low, rolling forward and popping up behind Scoops, following it up drives a quick elbow into Scoops’ lower back. Scoops grunts in pain, but he keeps his footing
Scoops spins, shoulders coiling, and launches a stiff, snapping left forearm across Dickie’s chest!
CATTLE PROD!
The impact cracks through the ring — a sharp thwack! Dickie’s eyes widen, head snapping back, chest compressing from the sting. A sharp intake of breath escapes him; his arms flinch instinctively.
JC: Dickie takes another shot from Scoops but is still standing!
JR: Standing? Yes! …Still upright? Barely… You can feel just looking at Dickie how that cattle prod is rocking him to his core! It hurts to breathe after a shot like that!
…Indeed, Dickie has his arms up, circling… but there’s a grimace in his expression… like a snakebite spreading poison in his bloodstream… Scoops gets a little smirk across his face, as he steps a little closer in the circling, forearm twitching for another big strike…
Scoops swings!
…But no! Dickie drops into a crouch, and sprints for the opposite ropes!
Scoops backs up into the ropes, looking for another…
SHOULDER BLOCK!
…But this time Dickie sidesteps, catches Scoops around the neck!
RUSSIAN LEGSWEEP! Taking Scoops down to the mat!
Dickie hooks the leg!
ONE!
TW-Again, Scoops kicks out at the count of two!
JC: These are two truly special competitors! I’ve never seen a match like this, I could watch them go at it for hours!
JR: Then I have real bad news for you, Jacuinde! We’re in the final quarter of this fifteen-minute match!
Scoops goes to shove himself off the mat, tough-as-nails-like… but Dickie forces himself upright first… Lighting quick dropkick to Scoops chest!
Scoops takes Dickie’s boots on the chest… and somehow rises up through it! Scoops shakes off the impact, shoulders rolling, knees flexing.
Dickie exhales, visibly clear on his face he’s not sure what he’s gotta do to keep McGee down…
Scoops lunges forward!
RUNNING HIP ATTACK! Scoops slams his side into Dickie’s torso with calculated force.
Dickie stumbles back, eyes widening, head jerking slightly from the impact.
JC: Oh my! I think Scoops might be starting to close in on Dickie! He’s managed to take the worst Dickie’s offense has hit him with and is still ticking!
JR: But does he have enough time to secure the win here, Jacuinde?!?
As Dickie tries to lock up with McGee… Scoops lunges suddenly, catching with a short-arm clothesline, knocking him sideways into the corner. Dickie’s lungs tighten in his chest… but his hands push against the turnbuckle, chest heaving as he recovers…
JC: Ya gotta give it to Watson, he’s refusing to back down for even a moment!
As Dickie leaves the corner, Scoops charges, full intent behind the left forearm — and Dickie sidesteps, pivoting behind him, hooking his waist in a roll-up attempt.
ON-NO! Scoops twists back up, grabbing Dickie by the skull!
HEADBUTT!
Dickie rolls back into the ropes…
Stumbling forward into Scoops’ arms!
SPINNING POWERSLAM!
JC: That could do it! We might have a new Television champion here!
Scoops hooks Dickie’s legs!
ONE!
TWO!
THRE-NOOOOOOO! DICKIE KICKS OUT!
JC: Dickie survives!
BG: But how much longer can he hang on, Jacuinde?!?
Scoops looks over his shoulder at the X-Tron, checking the time… he nods, knowing he’s gotta wrap this quick… he scoops Dickie up off the mat, by the scruff of the neck…
He shoves him between his legs!
JC: Oh man… This is exactly what Scoops did to put away Sebastian Everett-Bryce! Possibly the biggest win of his four-plus-decade long career! We could be getting ready to see a Dynamite Bomb!
Scoops scoops Dickie up onto his shoulders! The crowd rises to their feet!
DYNAMITE B-
…NOPE! Dickie slips off the back!
Scoops spins around! As Dickie scoops him off his feet for…
DICKIE’S REVENGE!
JC: WHAT A COUNTER! WHAT A MOVE!
JR: Dickie might steal this one! He might keep the TV Title!
Dickie hooks Scoops’ leg! The official drops to count!
ONE!
TWO!
THRE-NOOOOOOO! SCOOPS KICKS OUT!
HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!
Both men lie in the ring exhausted!
JC: I can’t believe what I’ve witnessed thus far! This match has been insane!
JR: And there’s still sixty seconds to go!
Dickie Watson staggers to his feet, chest heaving, sweat dripping from his temples. His jaw is tight, eyes blazing, pupils locked on Scoops McGee, who’s just barely rising from the mat himself.
The crowd is a cacophony of cheers, sensing the final showdown — this is it.
Dickie bounces lightly, muscles tense, fists clenched, a slight grin flicking across his lips — this is my moment. He feints a jab to Scoops’ midsection, eyes narrowing, measuring the old man’s reaction. Scoops instinctively lifts the left forearm to block, chest heaving, jaw tight, lips curling — predictable, but dangerous.
Dickie pivots sharply, bouncing off the ropes, and launches a high knee to Scoops’ chest. Scoops stumbles back…
Dickie wastes no time. He runs toward Scoops, ducking under a wild forearm, and hooks him under the arms for a…
DICKIE’S REV-
NO! Scoops smacks down on Dickie’s arm, scooping him into the air…
JC: This’ll do it! Big Scoop incoming!
BIG SCO-
…
No! Dickie drops off the back behind Scoops! Watson wrapping his arms around the waist, and executes a lightning-fast German suplex, bridging immediately into a crucifix pin.
ONE!
TWO!
SCOOPS KICKS OUT!
…
JUST AFTER THE THREE!
DING!
| WINNER AND STILL XWF TELEVISION CHAMPION: DICKIE WATSON! |
JC: Dickie retains! With seconds to spare! What an absolute war between these competitors!
JR: But you can feel the respect between them, Jacuinde! These two brought out the very best of each other! And iron sharpens iron! These two did exactly what they needed to do to make the other as fierce as possible headed into WarGames!
The bell rings, and the raucous fan applause reaches a fever pitch after the HUGE back-and-forth TV title match! Both Dickie and Scoops are lying on their backs, riding off of the high this war brought them. They glance at each other, a nod of respect being shared between them.
Both competitors bring themselves back to their knees, heaving deep breaths…
Scoops extends a hand for a fist bump!
Dickie looks at it… and gives a fist bump right back to him! The crowd pops even harder!
The two teammates bring themselves right back to their feet, just as the referee comes back into the ring with the Television Championship! He’s about to award it, when…
“Cut the music!”
JC: That’s Elon Musk’s voice we’re hearing!
JR: Dude… I haven’t heard from Elon since the last time he’s been on my podcast. I wonder how he’s been doing…
JC: …We just saw him earlier tonight…
Out comes Elon Musk, flanked by both Jeff Bezos and Mark Zuckerberg. Scoops and Dickie both scowl at the sight, the two of them talking between each other as Musk continues to speak.
”Scoops! I made you an offer!” Elon howls down the microphone.
”Join the Corporation and accept your place!” Elon scowls.
”And in response, you said…”
…
”Something. I was half-paying attention. BUT IT WASN’T YES!” Elon sneers furiously.
”And for that… You and your little teammate there with you… After roughing each other up for fifteen minutes… Are about to get ROCKED! BY THE GROKS!”
The Trillionaires step aside… As the Twenty Groks from earlier march through the curtain!
JC: Oh man! Elon’s mini-army of twenty Groks! I think the Trillionaires realized, if the security team is under Kieran’s control, they’re gonna need their own little army!
JR: And they have one, Jacuinde! A legion of Groks at their disposal!
Scoops and Dickie both raise their fists, eager to throw hands as the Groks, as one synchronized unit, all simultaneously raise one eyebrow…
…Well, twenty eyebrows. At once.
Before rolling down the ramp toward the ring!
JC: Oh my! Things are about to get absolutely heinous out here! It’s two-on-twenty!
Dickie and Scoops go back-to-back, daring the Groks to come from outside and get in the ring!
All of a sudden, from behind the Groks, Kieran King!
Flanked by the King’s Guard!
JC: Oh my! Business is picking up here!
Immediately, Tommy Gunn and his security team start pounding through the Groks, managing to divide and conquer them into separate brawls into the stands…
While Kieran, unbothered by the chaos unfolding around the ring, marches casually toward it…
JC: Oh dear! It looks like Kieran has spared Scoops and Dickie a fight… but is he coming to fraternize with his fellow wrestlers who’ve also run afoul of management? OR is he coming to pick a fight with another WarGames team?!?
Scoops McGee and Dickie Watson stand next to each other, daring Kieran to get in the ring. He slowly walks down the aisle towards them, distracting them enough to allow Kristoffer Arroyo and Larry Tact to hit each of them from behind with chairs.
JC: And a sneak attack! This is War Games starting early!
JR: And look! It’s Big D! In my pants! And also coming into the ring too!
JC: …Did you just make a dick joke?
JR: I’m a stand-up comedian too!
JC: Wait, really? Have you tried telling any good jokes?
Regardless of the bickering between Jacuinde and Joe Rogan, D slides into the ring where he picks Scoops McGee up and hits a Dan Slam, before doing the same to Dickie Watson. He then picks the TV Title up, scoffs at it, and throws it out of the ring as King Kieran enters.
JC: You gotta wonder what they have in mind!
Kristoffer brings a worn down Dickie Watson to his feet and tosses him in Kieran's direction, allowing the King to hit an Ugly on the Outside! Arroyo then drags Scoops McGee into position to hit Romeo's Lament as Big D and Larry Tact look on.
JR: This team is looking to make a statement!
JC: ‘Looking?’ I believe they HAVE!
JR: McGee and Watson are just crash test dummies at this point. Where’s the rest of their team?
JC: Amber Mansley was on the wrong end of an X-Treme rules match earlier tonight, while I don’t think Richard Powers is even in the building!
JR: These guys picked a perfect time for this, didn’t they?
JC: Like it or not, they definitely did.
At the orders of King Kieran, Kristoffer Arroyo slides one of the chairs under Dickie Watson's head before picking up the other one and holding it out for Larry. Tact hesitates, to take it, before giving into the peer pressure of Vamp and Kieran. He lines up to deliver a vicious conchairto, but Big D steps forward and snatches the chair out of his hands to the shock of the crowd.
JR: What is he doing?!
JC: What most people would call the right thing.
King Kieran gets in D's face, questioning his motives. Big D holds the chair up, almost as if to hit the Universal Champion, before finally tossing it aside.
Big D: We've done enough!
Kieran goes to argue with him, but Larry Tact agrees with D. The two of them go to different corners where they hold their arms up in victory, motioning for the other 2 to do the same. Kristoffer looks at King for a reaction, getting a nod from the Team Leader before going over and following in line. King Kieran acts like he's going to do the sam…
Only to grab the chair and line up the Con-Chair-To himself!
[white]JC: Oh my! It looks like Kieran’s gonna try and take Dickie out early!
Kieran raises the chair as D rushes to stop h-
JC: NO WAY! NO FUCKING WAY!
The curtain part as Kieran drops his chair turning up the ramp!
AS GAMEGIRL AND AMBER MANSLEY RUSH DOWN THE CURTAIN!
JC: What the HELL is GameGirl doing here?!? We know Amber Mansley is on Scoops’ WarGames team!
JR: GameGirl is Scoops’ old tag partner from Scoops McGG! And somehow, she’s decided this is the moment to return! To BOOP the hell out of Kieran King!
Kieran hoists up the chair, ready to swing it…
As GG rolls under the bottom rope…
Kieran swings!
But GG ducks it! Keeps running and hits a running dropkick on Arroyo who rebounds back against the turnbuckle!
Amber Mansley starts brawling with D! Scoops and Tact throw hands! Watson recovers enough to start punching Kieran! GG clotheslines Arroyo over the top rope and they brawl outside the ring!
JC: This one’s absolutely going nuts! Folks, if you wanna see more of this, BUY WARGAMES!
JR: Nicely done, Jacuinde! That’s how you sell a pay-per-view!
THANKS TO OUR MATCH WRITERS
PETER PRINCIPLE
LIAM DESMOND
'BIG' DICK LICHTER
KRISTOFFER ARROYO
OUR SEGMENT WRITERS
THE HOUSE OF KING
THE HOUSE OF HARDCORE
THE TRILLIONAIRES
AND EVERYONE WHO RP'D |
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