JC: WELCOME! TO WARFARE! WELCOME TO THE BALL ARENA! WELCOME TO THE MILE HIGH CITY OF DENVER, COLORADO!
As Jacuinde greets us, we’re also greeted by a fantastic pyro display. Not only inside the arena, but all over the city of Denver and even from the mountain tops in the distance that create the incredible backdrop of beautiful Denver, Colorado. Inside the arena, the cameras show us shots of an exuberant XWF Universe.
JC: We’re sold out tonight! It’s standing room only here in Denver as we usher in a new era for Warfare! Welcome everyone! My name is Jacuinde Castillo and alongside me tonight, my broadcast colleague, “Beautiful” Brody Goodman! Brody, we’re hot off the heels of The Revelry and this train just keeps on rollin’ as we’re on our way to Leap of Faith LIVE from Vatican City!
BG: Jacuinde, The Revelry was an absolute banger! From the first bell to the last, the men and women of this company left everything they had in that ring!
JC: And that’s what makes this company the best on the planet!
JC: Victorious over Cypher at the Revelry, new Warfare Executive Director Thaddeus Duke set to join us to start this broadcast!
BG: Duke never met a camera he didn't like!
JC: Something he has in common with every entertainer that ever lived.
With one arm still in a sling due to the consequences of the match with Cypher, Thad makes his way to the ring to a pop from the Denver crowd. Whereas most often, he'd take his time and mingle with the fans, tonight, he heads straight for the ring.
JC: Heyyy would you look at that!
BG: What? I can’t see.
JC: Former AW World Champion Tatiana Jolee at ringside!
After exchanging fist bumps with Jolee, Thad enters the ring. Standing in the center, he retrieves a mic hidden within his sling. He goes to speak but stops himself as the Universe continues to shower him with love.
JC: The Universe refuses to let Thad get this show underway!
BG: Well, these people are stoned 24/7, so their intelligence is already in question. Loving Thaddeus Duke is proof of that!
JC: Weren’t you two pals on Madness?
BG: No, I was just afraid of him.
JC: You’re not now?
BG: He can’t hear what I say!
The Universe finally begins to quiet. Slowly, the camera zooms in upon Thad's face, still scarred and showing the remnants of the Revelry. A serious look adorns that face.
I don’t have to scream because long ago I learned that a man with power can speak softly… and everyone will listen. You see, It’s better to keep your mouth shut and be thought a fool than to open it and prove them right.
JC: I think he's talking to you.
BG: Shut up.
I do the things I do for this company, whether it's in this ring, at that announce table or behind that curtain because THAT is what is asked of me.
Easy pop.
If they ask me to run this show to give it the shot in the arm that it desperately needs… then that's what I'm gonna do. If I wanna get in this ring and compete… then that's what I'm gonna do. I've said repeatedly that I have no interest in wearing gold, but if I change my mind, I'll enter a title picture the same way I always have… by earning it. I neither have to, nor would I want to… book my own success.
Easier Pop.
I do what I do not for feathers in my proverbial cap, but because I have bled black and blue practically since the day I was born and I will not sit idly by and watch this company fail. Now if you don’t mind, I'd like to turn our heads to the real reason I'm out here tonight… There's a man sitting backstage that has been running through every challenge that steps in front of him. Ladies and gentlemen…
JC: Sebastian Everett-Bryce! THE Universal Champion!
BG: Thad brings anymore of his friends out here, it might turn into a public circle jerk.
Sebastian Everett-Bryce walks out on stage, a little more somber than usual. The XWF Universal Championship around his waist, holding up the navy blue chinos, over the top of a pair of Chuck Taylor High Tops. The shirt is burgundy, and the jacket that covers it is light gray - the Champion here not just to be good, but to look good too.
He high-fives with fans as he walks down the aisle, stopping at the bottom and looking up at his best friend, the
General Manager Executive Director of the show he now works on. Seb tucks his thumbs into the Universal Title, before climbing the steps and picking up a microphone on the way.
SEB: Apologies for my early arrival…
Why change that habit? We know you come early.
Seb laughed and shook his head.
JC: Oh damn!
BG: And these guys are friends!
SEB: However, given that you were out here talking about the man back there running through every challenge that steps in front of him, I just had to assume you were looking to get a public congratulations from your BFF on a few things.
Uhm… No, that’s not…
SEB: It’s okay, BFF, I know how you like to be the centre of attention sometimes. I get that, we both do. It’s why we get along so well. But I wanted to be the first to come out here and congratulate you for your victory in the second best match at The Revelry…
Hard to believe you miscounted to one, but here we are…
SEB: AND I wanted you to know that whilst everyone else is expecting it to be really, really awkward for me having to call my best friend ‘boss’, I couldn’t be happier that you decided to take this job. And while others may think that I’ll expect an easy ride from you, we both know that’s not how either of us play. I don’t want hand-outs, and you don’t give them.
I’m glad you said that because…
SEB: Besides, we both know the real reason that you took this job…
Thad raised his eyebrows, this clearly being brand new information.
SEB:We both know you’ve been trying to find a way to force me to call you sir for a long, long time…
Thad’s eyes open wide, and then he starts to laugh, returning Seb’s laugh from earlier.
Okay, but seriously, just…
SEB: That’s all I wanted to come out here and say - congratulations, and good luck. Now I have an Emo to find and a Main Event to get ready f…
SEB!
Thad stops Seb from exiting the ring.
If you don’t mind, I do need to put my Executive Director hat on for a minute. Fact is, I was referencing you.
Seb smiles slightly as he returns to the center of the ring.
The question has come up and to be honest, I’ve been meeting about it even since before The Revelry. That show is now in the rearview mirror so the question is… who’s next? Who’s next to challenge Sebastian Everett-Bryce for THE Universal Championship?
JC: That is an excellent question!
BG: Like it or not, Seb Bryce has been running roughshod since his XWF debut back at Free For All!
JC: Who will step up and challenge the Universal Champion at Leap of Faith!?
My answer, the only answer… the correct answer is someone that has deserved a shot for quite awhile. It’s someone that has without a doubt, put this company on his back for not one, but two different brands that have flown the flag of the XWF.
So it gives me great pleasure to announce the number one contender for the Universal Championship… The man that will go on to challenge Sebastian Everett-Bryce at Leap of Faith… The undisputed, undeniable, unbelievable Anarchy Champion! SEAN PARKER!
Denver erupts like Mt. St. Helen as Sean Parker emerges from backstage.
JC: What a coup! Sean Parker! Just last month he was able to defeat Seb Bryce inside the Great Illuminatus at TRIAD!
BG: Can I root for the meteor instead? This is the worst possible news.
JC: A monumental main event for Leap of Faith! Sebastian Everett-Bryce defends against Sean Parker!
Sean Parker enters the ring and it almost looks like a Mexican standoff with Thad smiling at both competitors. Parker goes to take the mic from Thad, but Duke pockets the mic in his sling and exits the ring.
JC: What the…?
Thaddeus Duke, still all smiles, backs up the aisle way leaving both the Universal and Anarchy champions somewhat confused. As Thad nears the entrance way…
JC: OH MY GOD!
BG: Finally! Someone to cheer for!
JC: Mark Flynn! Mr. 24/7 is making his presence known here tonight in Denver!
Mark Flynn emerges from backstage with his 24/7 briefcase in hand and stops near Thad Duke. Thad looks over at Mark Flynn, Flynn looks at him. Reaching into his sling, Thad pulls out the mic and promptly hands it to Mark Flynn before finally making his exit.
JC: Mark Flynn! The one and only blemish on the XWF record of the Universal Champion!
BG: It’s all fun and games until a briefcase holder shows up!
JC: Could Flynn cash in right now!?
BG: Please say yes!
Flynn strolls down the aisle, wide smile on his face.
Eyes laser-focused on Sebastian Everett-Bryce.
How.
Typical.
Flynn reaches the end of the ramp, walking around the apron. The briefcase still in his possession.
See.
A while back.
A few months ago.
I pulled off a thing.
That no one.
Nobody.
Zero people.
NO ONE ELSE.
But me.
Accomplished.
Flynn sticks a finger toward the ring.
I PUT A BLACK MARK ON THE OTHERWISE SPOTLESS RECORD OF SEBASTIAN EVERETT-BRYCE!
BG: It’s true! Flynn made the current Universal champion tap out!
JC: Under the MOST controversial circumstances! Theo Pryce tried to get the match restarted and the official refused!
BG: Still the only L on Seb’s record!
...And once again.
Despite being the man who beat the Universal champion.
Despite beating the last number one contender for the Universal Title.
Despite having the HIGHEST ELO FOR THE ENTIRE 2024 CALENDAR YEAR…
BG: Where’s the lie, Jayce?
Flynn stares a hole up at SEB as he takes a beat of silence, letting the truth speak for itself.
DESPITE all of these factors.
I find myself once again… Cut in line.
Now.
Dionysus? Fine. Stupid kid won his own pay-per-view so he could choke in front of an entire arena plastered with banners of his own face.
For the spectacle alone? I could wait until that passes.
…
But?
To be put behind the FUCKING ANARCHY CHAMPION!
Flynn turns, spitting angry at Sean Parker, as he turns the corner past the commentary table.
The Crowd starts a ‘PAR-KER’ chant’ in support of the Anarchy champion!
The KING OF THE KIDDIE POOL THAT IS THURSDAY NIGHTS! THE B-SHOW!
The crowd boos! A couple fans stick Anarchy merch and t-shirts up to the camera in disapproval.
Flynn shakes his head.
Where’s the justice in this?
Huh, Sebbie?
Flynn turns back toward SEB, simultaneously turning around back toward the timekeeper’s table.
What was that thing you said in your promo you dropped right after losing to me?
Flynn points up at the X-Tron where he’s queued up a clip from SEB’s promo.
The crowd turns to watch it.
SEB does not, not taking his eyes off Flynn.
Quote:“One way or another, we have to do it again.”
|
See, I was right there with ya, Sebidiah!
I was salivating for another shot at you…
I couldn’t WAIT to take another crack at you!
And when you won the Universal Title…
I thought…
HERE WE FUCKING GO.
THE CHANCE TO DO IT RIGHT.
SEBASTIAN EVERETT-BRYCE VERSUS MARK FLYNN!
THE TWO BIGGEST STARS IN WRESTLING TODAY!
WITH THE UNIVERSAL TITLE ON THE LINE!
…
And what do you do, Sebster?
…
You start accepting challenges…
From Charlie Nickles.
From Davey Dunham.
From FUCKING GUTTERTRASH!
HAND-PICKED OPPONENTS! SOFT JOBS TO PRESERVE THE MYTH THAT SEBASTIAN EVERETT-BRYCE IS UNBEATABLE!
The crowd starts up another Sean Parker chant!
Flynn points at them like they’ve got the right answer.
EXACTLY! SEAN PARKER IS THE LATEST HANDPICKED NOBODY TO FEED TO THE FAKE STAR, SEBASTIAN EVERETT-BRYCE!
The crowd rains down boos!
JC: That’s not what they meant chanting Sean Parker’s name! He’s dominated Anarchy, he’s absolutely earned a spot in the main event!
BG: Clearly, Mark Flynn would disagree!
…
Flynn spins toward the timekeeper.
He lifts the briefcase up to his face.
Smiling at his own reflection.
...And I think to myself.
How do I stop this?
The INJUSTICE of it all.
The PALPABLE FRAUD AT PLAY HERE.
…Flynn unclasps the briefcase… The Crowd goes oooooooh!
JC: Flynn has hung onto his 24/7 briefcase for 11 months! Is he going to cash in tonight!?1
Flynn extends the briefcase toward the timekeeper.
I *could* stop it right now.
Couldn’t I?
The crowd reaches a fever-pitch!
JC: Are we about to see an impromptu Universal Title match?!?
BG: OH GOD PLEASE!
…
Flynn retracts the briefcase, wagging his finger at the crowd.
Wagging his finger at SEB.
The crowd resumes its booing as Flynn lifts the mic back to his face.
You’d just loooooooove that, wouldn’t you, SEB?
If I gave you an out.
If I let you get away like that.
If I let you creep back into the CESSPOOL that is the REST OF THE WRESTLING INDUSTRY… Without an indisputable loss on your record… At the hands of Mark Flynn.
…
Unfortunately. Flynn clasps the briefcase shut again.
I’m not letting you off that easy.
Flynn shakes his head, grinning ear-to-ear.
Sebrurary.
I refuse to wait for to tuck your tail out from between your legs.
I’m FORCING MYSELF TO THE FRONT OF THE LINE!
The crowd pops! Does this mean?!?
THAT IS CORRECT.
AT LEAP OF FAITH.
MARK FLYNN IS CASHING IN HIS BRIEFCASE!
…
TO INSERT HIMSELF INTO THE MAIN EVENT!
The crowd erupts! A mixture of boos at the idea of Flynn becoming Unviersal champion, but also cheers for an absolutely stellar main event!
JC: Wow! So the Universal Title match at Leap of Faith…
BG: Is going to be a triple-threat match! SEB vs Sean Parker vs Mark Flynn!
JC: And Flynn is already walking back up the ramp, holding the briefcase over his head! Parker looks none too pleased to have Flynn rain on his parade, being announced the number one contender, Brody! Warfare resumes LIVE after this!
JC: We're back here on Warfare and while the Executive Director relishes over the Universal title match for Leap of Faith, we're about to get set for action!
BG: Leap of Faith is just around the corner, Jacuinde! And you know what that means!
The cameras zoom out some, revealing the Leap of Faith 24/7 Briefcase displayed prominently at the announce table.
JC: I do indeed! Several stars will vie for a chance to compete inside the Leap of Faith match in Rome with the hopes of capturing that very briefcase!
BG: To the victor go the spoils, Jacuinde! To win that match, it's not waiting to hit the right note at the right time so Thaddeus Duke or Theo Pryce says 'ok, let's stick the rocket on that guy'!
JC: No it surely isn't! Winning Leap of Faith is that competitor taking the proverbial rocket and putting it on their own back!
JC: And Razor Blade will be among the first competitors to throw his name in the hat, so to speak!
BG: It surely won't be easy!
JC: No. Nor should it!
BG: Matthias Syn stands on the other side of him tonight!
RA: The following contest is a Leap of Faith qualifier set for one fall! Introducing first, from Atlanta, Georgia weighing 220 pounds... the AMERICANNN NIGHTMARRRE RRRRAZORR BLLLLAAAADE!
The lights goes out and hear a voice saying Wrestling has one royal family and when Kingdom hit's fireworks burst open and Razor Blade comes out wearing a American nightmare outfit and left his arms in the mid air and fist pumps in a fake air and he saw a kid wearing a Blade shirt and he takes off his American nightmare belt off his waist in hands it to the XWF fan and climbs up the steps in hops on the turnbuckle and raises both arms in the air and more fireworks burst once again and he gets inside of the ring and climbs on the top rope taunts some more and gets down and takes off his American nightmare jacket and prepares for a fight.
JC: Many in this capacity crowd seem firmly behind Blade tonight!
BG: Not the smart ones.
RA: His opponent!
RA: From Las Vegas, Nevada weighing 235 pounds... the Syn City Saint.. MAAATHIAAAS SYYYYNN!
The opening riff of The hangman's body count by Volbeat starts to play throughout the arena as the lights dim. Several red and purple laser lights envelope the stage as Matthias Syn casually walks through the curtain. As he steps onto the stage, he stops and acknowledges the crowd by stretching both arms forward while touching his balled up fists together. After several seconds he begins to nonchalantly walk down the ramp towards the ring, not allowing the fans to touch him. He slides under the bottom rope, jumps to his feet and poses on the ropes. As he drops down from the ropes he takes off his red leather shearling coat, hands it to the ring girl and sits on the middle turnbuckle.
JC: Syn stares ominously at Razor Blade!
BG: Matthias Syn, a product of the Anarchy brand, makes his Warfare debut tonight in Denver!
JC: He's creating some buzz around the entire XWF and that can only be a good thing!
BG: He's got a chance tonight, Jacuinde! Everyone always takes an interest in the fresh blood! Tonight, he's got a chance to punch his ticket to the big dance and prove that he's more than the typical flavor of the month!
Leap of Faith Qualifier
Razor
- vs -
Matthias Syn
-Standard Match-
|
Both Syn and Razor size each other up from across the ring. Both men are evenly-sized as they lock up in the center. After a moment of jostling for superiority, Razor manages to gain an early advantage, forcing Matthias onto one of the sets of ropes. He sends Syn for an Irish whip and goes for a clothesline but Syn ducks his head, avoiding the contact. Syn himself goes for a flying leg lariat but this time Razor manages to lower his head to avoid being hit. Matthias lands on his feet and runs back off the ropes but gets caught with a snap powerslam from Razor. The American Nightmare goes for a quick cover, hooking the leg but Matthias powers out before the referee’s hand leaves the mat after a one-count.
JC: Wow! Fast start in the Leap of Faith qualifiers! Matthias Syn is pulling double-duty this week making his Warfare debut and he has a triple threat match on Anarchy but you just know he’ll want to get off to a flier here!
BG: He put on an impressive showing in his XWF debut just coming up short against Sean Parker but it’s Razor here in the early going who’s hit the ground running.
Syn favors his back momentarily as Razor pulls him up to his feet. He wraps his arm around the back of Matthias’ shoulders, intertwining their legs before slamming back with a Russian Leg Sweep. Razor follows up with measured knee drop into the trapezoid and sternum area, pressing all his weight onto Syn’s head and neck into another makeshift cover. The referee is down to count.
1….
2…. But again Matthias kicks out. As he climbs back to his feet, Razor measures him again and springboards off the ropes, looking for a disaster kick. However Syn has the wherewithal to intercept it, catching Razor on his landing with a high knee to the jaw that staggers Blade. Syn grabs Razor in a rear waistlock and slams up and over his head with a beautiful German Suplex, bridging into a pin! The referee counts!
1…..
2….
But Razor manages to wriggle a shoulder off the mat, forcing the nearfall!
JC: And just like that, the momentum shifts! Syn showing his experience catching Razor coming in and bookending with a great German Suplex.
BG: Syn has over a decade of experience so he’s no green-as-grass rookie; he’s been around the block for sure.
Syn senses a swing in momentum and climbs up onto the closest second turnbuckle. He uses all of his momentum to spin through the air and lands an audacious somersault corkscrew senton, landing all of his 235-pound frame onto Razor’s chest. He grimaces in pain, feeling the wind being driven out of his lungs. Syn proceeds to wrap his bicep around Razor’s neck, driving his knee into his back with a modified dragon sleeper. He wrenches back, tightening his grip as Razor tries to fight out, tenaciously shaking his finger “No!” to the referee’s questioning if he wants to give up. The XWF Universe begins to chant
“Lets go, Razor! *clap clap clap-clap-clap* Let’s go, Razor!”
The American Nightmare feels the positive energy of the XWF Universe willing him back into the match and shakes his fists and starts to pull himself back to his feet, much to Syn’s chagrin who is struggling to keep a grip of the submission hold in place. Razor shifts his body and starts to ram several elbows into Syn’s ribs but just as he starts to create some distance, Syn pulls Razor back in. He links his arms and sends him catapulting overhead with a beautiful bridging Tiger Suplex which emits a collective disappointed groan from the fans in the audience. The referee is down to count, his hand hitting the mat for:
1……
2…..
3-But once more, Razor Blade shows his tenacity, much to the delight of the Denver crowd!
JC: Razor has the crowd behind him for sure tonight and he’s showing he’s no slouch.
BG: The crowd can only do so much, Jacuinde, he’s going to have to do more than get the fans chanting his name to win this match.
Razor slowly climbs to his feet but Syn gives him no quarter, keen to continue his assault. He grabs Razor from behind in a Koji Clutch but can’t cinch it in deep enough. Razor comes forward, putting his head through the ropes, sending the top one straight into Matthias’ face and he lets go of his grip. Razor turns around, grabs Syn and plants him with an inverted suplex slam before thumping his chest in defiance, feeling the tide change. He takes his time, waiting for Syn to get to his feet and runs towards him, snatching his head, going for a bulldog, but Syn digs his heels in. He catches Razor mid-flight, heaving him onto his shoulders and drills him with a GTS!
JC: Gee! Tee! Ess! That could be it, Brody!
BG: Razor gave it a good go but he’s done after that.
The momentum of the impact from the GTS doesn’t quite send Razor down though, rather sending him staggering back and he slumps into one of the corners, looking like he’s out on his feet. As he collapses to his knees, Syn runs straight towards him, and he goes to take his head off with a shining wizard but somehow Razor is able to roll out of the way right at the very last second. Razor clambers back to his feet, as the crowd reacts to Syn missing the shining wizard. He runs to the ropes, leaping off them and he manages to hit Matthias with the Disaster Kick this time, stunning Syn.
JC: Can Razor do it, Brody? Can he book his place at Leap of Faith?!
BG: If he does, this will be a massive upset!
As Syn tries to regain his bearings, Razor senses the match is in his hands. He grabs Matthias under the chin.
JC: Here we go! Blade Rose coming up!
Razor goes to flip over for his Blade Rose finisher but incredibly, Syn floats through it, grabbing Razor and he spikes him with the SYNthesis! Swinging Reverse Cutter!
JC: Oh damn! SYNthesis! What a reversal!
BG: No way is Razor getting up from that, Jacuinde!
Syn makes the cover empathically, hooking one of Razor’s legs and the referee goes to make the count.
1….
2….
3!!!
WINNER - MATTHIAS SYN
Advances to Leap of Faith |
JC: Matthias Syn! The first competitor to punch their ticket to the Leap of Faith match!
BG: He was right all along, Jacuinde! He came to Warfare and without a doubt, became Razor Blade's nightmare!
JC: The future is bright for that young man here in the XWF! Stay with us folks as Warfare continues!
“It's not right!”
The voice comes through the audio before the camera picks up who it belongs to as the live feed takes you into one of the locker rooms. There, you find Television Champion, Jason Cashe and one of the Road Agents.
Cashe: “She should be suspended or something!”
Road Agent: “It's really not that serious..”
Scoffing, Cashe obviously disagrees with that. Pacing around, he was already in his ring gear, ready to go but this subject, whatever it was, was bothering him.
Cashe: “Black face is serious! I don't know what country club you come from buddy but it's offensive!”
Road Agent: “She is black.. African American.. The point is, she isn't doing black face.”
Now Cashe was waving a finger back and forth at the Road Agent.
Cashe: “No, no, no, last time I fought her, she was not black. Tan, sure but not black. Did ya’ll hire someone to take over the Hixx character?”
Road Agent: “What?!”
Cashe: “Yeah, yeah, like in Mexico. A luchador’s mask might get passed down to someone new. The gimmick of it lives on. The next generation of Latoya Hixx. Black with Abs!”
Road Agent: “I assure you, it's the same woman..”
Cashe: “Boooshit!”
Road Agent: “Is this all you called me in here for?!”
Groaning as he pushes past Cashe and heads for the door. The Television Champion roars out, still suspicious over his opponent’s ‘transformation’.
Cashe: “I’ll tell you what.. I’ma go out there and wipe that offensive makeup off her face, watch her Dr. Dolittle back to her thick thighed self and beat her YET again! I’m not falling for this switcharoo you fuckers are trying to pull, that's not her!”
Tsking and scoffing as he continues to pace around the locker room, waiting for it to be bell time.
JC: Jason Cashe defends the Television title NEXT! When we come back!
Immediately after the break, the bell rings and all eyes are drawn to the ring announcer as she stands in the center of the ring.
RA: The following contest is set for one fall with a 15 minute time limit! It's for the XWF Television Championship!
RA: Introducing the challenger! From Vero Beach, California! LATOYAAAA HIXXXX!
When The Strom is Coming hits Latoya Hixx. they heard a voice laugh in the background and saw blue lights from the entrance and some smoke and rainfall coming down she walked onto the middle stage flexed her muscles walked straight down towards the aisle slapped a few XWF fans got inside the ring and dim the lights in the ring and she flexes her arms once more and spread her arms and climbs on the top rope and yell at her fans and tells them to let's go and climbs down off the ropes and waits for her opponent to arrive.
JC: THE STORM IS UPON US! Latoya Hixx is getting another shot at the TV Title, two short months after coming INCHES short against the defending champ!
BG: Maybe the new Executive Director of Monday Night Warfare, Thaddeus Duke, didn’t look over the notes of his predecessor…
JC: Or Thad sees what a lot of the XWF Universe sees when Latoya Hixx enters the ring! RAW, UNADULTERATED POWER!
BG: I can’t argue with you there, Jayce. Hixx may not have the record to show for it, but she is an absolute PHYSICAL SPECIMEN.
JC: She just needs to convert that physicality into dominance! Could tonight be the night that she turns that corner?
Hixx slides under the bottom rope! She marches toward the hard-cam, spreading her arms wide as the crowd cheers! Hixx stands there in the ring to wait for her opponent to arrive.
JC: In their last meeting, Latoya was able to overpower the defending champ… But was caught on the backfoot by her opponent’s unorthodox offense. Brody, do you think Latoya’s made the necessary adjustments to take the TV Title?
BG: That’s the big question tonight, Jayce. And the answer is going to determine who walks away with the belt.
RA: Her opponent!
The hymn-like hum vibrates through the area before Lauren Hill soundfully brings in the chorus. Jason Cashe comes out from the back, stopping at the edge of the stage. Looking around the arena at the live audience, he takes a long drag off an air joint before howling up into the sky! A few fans howl with him.
RA: From Houston, Tejas by way of Decatur, Georgia.. The REIGNING! DEFENDING! UNDISPUTED XWF TELEVISION CHAMPION! A truly Troubled One they call DiOGee.. Jaaaassoooon! CAAAASHE!!
JC: XWF Television champion Jason Cashe looks CONFIDENT! And why wouldn’t he, he has been on an ABSOLUTE ROLL! He’s defended the belt against Prince Adeyemi, Dolly Waters AND Roger!
BG: …Why did you order it like beating Roger was the most impressive?
JC: Regardless! Cashe has been in top form lately! He’s got the entire TV division locked up in his iron fist!
BG: But can Latoya Hixx pry the belt from that fist tonight?
Stopping as the aisle turns to ringside, Cashe drags a foot creating an imaginary line. This is the line where when passed, the talking stops. Cashe leaps up on the apron onto his left knee. He stands, ducking under the top rope to enter the ring.
The official steps up between the two competitors. Hixx sneers, focused on the belt.
Cashe heaves it off his shoulder, his knees buckle as he shifts the six pounds of gold into his arms… miming that the belt is heavy… As he slings it into the referee’s hands. The referee at first consciously and visibly carries with his back so as not to injure himself…
…Before realizing the belt is actually light and Cashe was fucking with him.
Cashe winks at Hixx. Hixx fumes angrily.
JC: These two do NOT like each other, Brody!
BG: Nope! Latoya referred to Cashe the ‘worst champion ever!’ And Cashe called Hixx and her partner Razor Blade, the ‘biggest jokes on the roster’!
JC: And that was before their FIRST match, Brody! We saw in the ring these two tried to physically punish each other from bell-to-bell!
BG: I really doubt these two sent each other apology cards and invitations to hug it out! This will get UGLY!
XWF Television Championship
Jason Cashe ©
- vs -
Latoya Hixx
-15 Minute Time Limit-
|
The official lifts the belt between the two, before handing it off to the timekeeper! The timekeeper starts the 15 minute clock!
The bell rings!
DING DING!
Hixx charges out of her corner…
Cashe grins, and reels his hand back for a slapbox-right hand!
BG: This is exactly what Cashe did to frustrate Hixx in their last meeting, Jayce!
Cashe slaps!
…
BUT HIXX DUCKS UNDER THE BLOW!
JC: Uh oh! Hixx watched the tape back, Brody!
Hixx rapidly secures the surprised Cashe in a rear-waistlock…
AND TEARS OFF A GERMAN SUPLEX! Dumping the Television Champion right on the back of his neck!
JC: Wow! If you were expecting a re-run of their last match, folks, I’m afraid you’re in for a whole new matchup from these two familiar competitors!
Hixx goes to pursue the prone Cashe with a series of stomps to the back of his skull…
But the wily champion grabs the bottom rope and pulls himself outside the ring to regroup…
BG: Cashe may be cocky, but he’s also smart. He knows it only takes a few moves to build an insurmountable wave of momentum. It’s the right time to regroup and strategize.
But! Hixx leans over the ropes, grapping Cashe by the back of his skull to drag him back inside the ring!
Cashe, caught off-guard, is dragged up off his feet to sitting on the apron by the incredible strength of Latoya Hixx!
JC: WHAT POWER!
BG: But Hixx needs to be careful here to not get herself disqualified! Hixx can’t touch the ropes and perform offensive maneuvers!
The official starts counting!
1!
2!
Hixx sneers at the official angrily…
But when she looks away, Cashe slams his elbow up…
AND CATCHES HER ACROSS THE SKULL! Huge strike that drops Hixx straight to the mat!
BG: Wow! That would be a knockout blow on most competitors!
Cashe steps through the ropes…
Just as Hixx shoves herself off the mat and back up to one knee…
JC: But Latoya Hixx is NOT most people!
Cashe goes to secure Hixx in a front facelock…
Hixx brings her arms to grapple h-
WHAP! Cashe brings his fist under Hixx’s raised arms to catch her under the chin with a slapbox punch!
BG: Lot of slapping going on, Jayce!
JC: It is disorienting AND discombobulating, Brody! Cashe may be unorthodox but he is also one of the best strikers in the XWF!
Hixx reflexively brings her arms down to block her chin…
But Cashe catches her over the top with a smack upside her head!
JC: After Hixx’s surprise counter, Cashe is once again buckling himself into the driver’s seat, controlling the flow of this match!
BG: That’s what makes him a great TV champion, Jayce! He recovers quick and knows exactly how to get inside his opponent’s head!
Hixx raises her arms to cover her face…
And Cashe simply kicks her straight in the gut! Driving her backwards toward the turnbuckle!
JC: Cashe is working Latoya like a heavy bag! If Hixx wants to stay in this match, she’s gotta come up with a counter and QUICK!
Hixx’s back hits the turnbuckle… She leans against it, apparently tired of charging in and getting hit…
Cashe charges in, looking to splash Hixx against the turnbuckle…
But as Cashe’s feet leave the ground, Hixx’s arms spring forward…
And catch Cashe in midair!
…
BEFORE HUCKING HIM TO THE GROUND LIKE A SACK OF POTATOES! MONSTROUS URANAGE SLAM!
JC: WOW! WOW WOW WOW!
BG: Is that all you can say Jayce?!?
JC: I’m sorry! That took the words right out of my mouth! Jason Cashe is no lightweight, and LaToya Hixx just plucked him out of the air and hurled him like a javelin!
Hixx shakes her head, before leaning over Cashe, hooking the leg!
The official drops to count!
1!
2!
THR-NOOOOO!
Cashe forces a shoulder off the mat!
Hixx grimaces, smacking her hands together, telling the official to count faster!
JC: Hixx should tread carefully here… She doesn’t want to cost herself a prime opportunity to win championship gold arguing with the official!
Hixx grumbles angrily as she wraps her hands around Cashe’s throat. Hixx simultaneously chokes the champion, and throttles his skull against the mat!
WHAM!
WHAM!
JC: We saw this move last match! Hixx trying to sap the will to continue from Jason Cashe!
BG: And just like last time, the official is forced to count for an illegal choke!
De ja vu, indeed! The official starts counting over Hixx to break the hold!
1!
2!
3!
F-
Hixx releases the hold and stands up, getting all up in the referee’s face, screaming at him to count slower!
JC: First, Hixx says the official is counting too slow… Now, it’s too fast!
As Hixx screeches at the official, Cashe grabs the bottom rope, pulling himself to his feet…
Hixx stops arguing with the official long enough to remember she still has a match to win, and spins around to see Cashe on one knee…
Hixx goes to grab Cashe by the scruff of his neck…
But, in one masterful swoop, Cashe KICKS Hixx in the ankle, destabilizing her vertical base!
AND grabs her by the waist and falls backwards, FORCING her throat against the ropes! STUNGUN!
JC: Great technical counter by Jason Cashe!
Hixx rebounds off the ropes, grasping at her throat…
As Cashe springs off the mat!
Hixx spins around…
As Cashe hoists her into the air!
AND SLAMS HER BACKFIRST! HUUUUUUGE SPINEBUSTER SLAM!
JC: What a maneuver from Jason Cashe! A beautiful barrage of offense!
BG: But is it enough to put Hixx down for the count!
Cashe, shaking off the pain from Hixx’s offensive barrage, crawls into a cover.
The official counts!
1!
Tw-WHAM! Forcefully, Hixx forces a shoulder up at one!
JC: Wow!
BG: Stop saying wow!
JC: I’m sorry, but that’s impressive! Hixx doesn’t even stay down for a two-count! She is an OX!
BG: But ya gotta remember! Surviving isn’t going to win the title! She’s gotta beat the champ before the time runs out!
Cashe scrambles up to his feet as Hixx storms back up to a vertical base!
As Cashe catches enough second wind to rise back himself… Hixx wraps both arms around the TV champ’s throat and hoists him into the air!
Cashe’s feet dangle as Hixx throttles the life out of him!
JC: Hixx heaved Cashe in the air like a man playing with a child! All I can say is, W-...
BG: …
JC: Incredible!
BG: Better.
Again, the official starts demanding that Hixx not choke her opponent! He begins a count!
1!
2!
3!
Fou-Hixx drops Cashe so his feet touch the mat….
THEN LIFTS HIM RIGHT BACK UP!
JC: Oho! Hixx has figured out a system! She can slowly choke the life out of Jason Cashe AND not get disqualfiied!
The official starts up the count anew!
1!
2!
3!
4!
Fi-Hixx lets the count get eveeeeeer-so-close to 5… But at the last moment, she releases Cashe in mid-air, dropping him back first on the mat!
Cashe cradles his own throat, as Hixx sneers mockingly at the official, who tries to assert his authority, pointing at the XWF logo on his shirt!
BG: If Cashe doesn’t break out of this cycle soon, I can’t see a road where he leaves with the TV Title!
Hixx leans over Cashe to pick him up by the throat once more…
But Cashe rolls over on his face, shaking off cobwebs…
JC: Cashe, clearly grasping at straws her to try and break Hixx’s momentum!
Hixx angrily grumbles as he grabs Cashe by the back of the throat, peeling him off the mat to his feet!
BG: Hixx has the champ by the skull!
Hixx looks determined to finish the match! She lifts Cashe into the air by the back of his neck!
…
But Cashe wraps his arms around Hixx’s skull!
And heaves his weight downwards! Stunner!
Hixx’s skull rebounds off Cashe’s shoulder…
Cashe bends his knees… Sets his body…
…
AND BACKFLIPS!
JC: OH MY GOD!
The crowd is STUNNED! They all leap to their feet in amazement!
As Cashe backflipping feet catches Hixx in the BACK OF THE SKULL! PELE KICK!
JC: WOWWWWWWW!
BG: I can’t even be mad at you, Jayce. What else can you say? Has anyone seen Jason Cashe do that before?!?
JC: These two competitors keep upping the game! I could watch these two go at it forever!
BG: Unfortunately, there is a time limit on this match!
Hixx is laying on the mat facedown, clearly ROCKED by Cashe’s shocking display of acrobatic offense…
Meanwhile, Cashe lays facedown on the mat, trying to catch his breath after having the oxygen squeezed out of his lungs for over a minute straight.
The crowd starts a pair of dueling chants.
“STORM IS COMING!”
“Di-Oh-GEE!”
“STORM IS COMING!”
“Di-Oh-GEE!”
Eventually, the chants quiet as the official starts a ten-count over the competitors!
1!
2!
Hixx smacks her fist against the mat, furiously… As she starts to stir…
3!
4!
Cashe shakes off cobwebs, crawling over to the ropes… Pulling himself up to one knee!
5!
6!
Hixx plants another fist against the mat, brutally shoving her way to her knees!
…Cashe, meanwhile, bides his time, waiting to see if Hixx will beat the ten-count…
JC: It’s vital to remember the champion’s advantage! Jason Cashe retains on a draw!
BG: Clever move by Cashe laying in wait! Why get up at all when you can win by staying down?
7!
8!
Hixx forces herself up to one knee!
9!
AND HIXX GETS ALL THE WAY UP!
The official signals! The match continues!
The moment the official stops the count, Hixx shakily drops back down to one knee… It’s clear despite her great strength, that kick really did some damage to her!
…But the second the count is broken, Cashe springs up using the ropes to a vertical base!
JC: This could be it!
Cashe charges in spinning toward Hixx! His elbow seeking the Mark of Jason!
HE TURNS!
…
BUT HIXX CATCHES THE CHAMPION UNDER THE ARMS! AND LIFTS HIM IN THE AIR!
BEARHUG! IT’S LATOYA HIXX’S PATENTED BEAR HUG!
Cashe howls! His arms extend to both sides as Latoya Hixx squeezes the life out of him!
BG: Latoya Hixx’s trademark Bearhug!
JC: This could be it! We could have a new champion!
The official looks over Hixx’s shoulder, asking Cashe if he’d like to submit!
Cashe shakes his head… His arms shake!
Cashe reels back to strike Hixx in the side of the head…
BUT HIXX squeezes, forcing Cashe closer to her!
JC: Hixx learned from the last match how Cashe could escape and she’s NOT LETTING HIM PULL THE SAME TRICK TWICE!
Hixx screams in Cashe’s ear to give up, squeezing the life out of him with all her might!
Cashe presses his skull against Hixx head…
…
AND BITES HER ON THE EAR!
BG: SHADES OF MIKE TYSON! AN EAR BITE!
Panicked and shocked, Hixx drops Cashe, cradling the now-bleeding side of her head…
Cashe’s feet hit the mat....
He rebounds backwards toward the ropes!
Hixx is too befuddled to dodge!…
THE MARK OF JASON!
BG: WOW!
JC: Oh! So, it’s okay when you say it, Goodman!?!
Hixx drops to the mat like a ton of bricks… Cashe exhaustedly collapses on top of her!
The official counts!
1!
2!
THREE!
WINNER - JASON CASHE
Still XWF Television Champion
|
JC: Jason Cashe! With another successful defense of the Television title!
BG: He’s running out of contenders, Jacuinde!
JC: He’s been a great, steadfast champion, there’s no doubt about that! Warfare continues, stay with us!
Michael Graves swaggers toward the staff entrance with Pussyfoot Pete hot on his heels, but suddenly two big security guards block the door with crossed arms.
JC: Micheal Graves is here at Warfare!
BG: He doesn't appear to be booked!
Security Guard 1: "Hold up, Graves. You're not getting in tonight."
Graves: (scoffs) "What the hell are you talking about? I'm here to manage my student, Pussyfoot Pete. We've got an upcoming match next Warfare, and we need to discuss the deets Thaddy-boy."
The second security guard gestures to a line of photos taped to the wall next to the entrance, and despite the fact that the pictures show 12 different dudes, 2 women, and fat Peter Gilmour, they are assured that each of them is Micheal Graves, and he is not to be permitted inside tonight.
Security Guard 2: "Strict orders, Graves. Duke doesn't want you inside. And we've been told not to let in anyone who looks like any of these people." He points at the photos.
Graves: (gritting his teeth) "This is ridiculous. I'm not here to cause trouble, just to do my job. Let me through so I can get my boy booked in his big debut next week!"
Security Guard 1: (shakes his head) "No can do. I can't afford to lose this job."
Graves: "Oh... Family to take care of, huh?"
Security Guard 2: "No, no, nothing like that—Just an expensive addictions is all. Besides I'm pretty sure your student here is on the list too."
The guards glance over at Pussyfoot Pete, who is dressed like a cat and looking confused.
Security Guard 2: (checking a clipboard) "Yep, Pussyfoot Pete. He's on the no-entry list as well. Sorry, boys."
Graves' face turns a deep shade of red, his fists clenching at his sides. In a fit of rage, he grabs his hat and literally eats it, tearing it apart with his teeth.
Graves: (muffled through a mouthful of hat) "Duke, you bastard! How can you do me like this!?"
The security guards exchange bewildered looks as Graves continues to chew on his hat, seething with anger. Pussyfoot Pete shifts uncomfortably, unsure of what to do next.
Pussyfoot Pete: (whispering) "Uh, maybe we should just go..."
Graves: (spits out the remains of the hat) "No way, Pete. We're not backing down. We'll find another way in, even if I have to tear this place apart brick by brick. Let's go!"
With that, Graves turns on his heel, storming away from the entrance with Pussyfoot Pete trailing behind, as the security guards shake their heads in disbelief.
JC: Micheal Graves and Pussyfoot Pete denied entry here at the Ball Arena!
BG: It's official! Thaddeus Duke is allergic to entertainment!
JC: That's ridiculous!
BG: Is it?
JC: Graves ruins everything he touches, Brody! It stands to reason why Duke wouldn't want him on the new era premier of Warfare!
BG: Fans love his hijinks!
JC: They like watching him fail. Those are two different things. Warfare rolls on from Denver after we pay some bills! Keep it here!
Warfare returns with a shot of the Leap of Faith 24/7 briefcase sitting upon the announce table
JC: Warfare is moving right along here tonight folks, there’s no stopping the action. Another Leap of Faith qualifier match is about to begin!
BG: With a brand new XWF roster addition making their debut!
JC: Brody, you know as well as anyone else in this arena that there are no new wrestlers in this matchup tonight
BG: Hush for a second, listen to that music, JC
Pomp and Circumstance fills the stadium from the loud speakers. Under the XTron, Misty Waters wastes little time making her way to the entrance ramp.
RA: The following is a Leap of Faith Qualifier set for one fall! Introducing first... from Frankfurt, Kentucky... the Refined Rebel... MMMMISTYYY WWWWATERRRS!
JC: New music, and new attire doesn’t change the fact that Dolly Waters is the wrestler making her way to the ring.
BG: Are you blind? MISTY Waters looks nothing like Dolly-
She's wearing a luxurious blue fur robe, lined with red and white tassels. She has a read bandana tied around her skull, keeping her red wig in place, and a pair of single-lensed sunglasses covering her eyes.
BG: MISTY Waters carries herself like a champion, just look at her charisma! She looks like someone destined for SUPERSTARDOM! That could never be Dolly Waters!
Misty hops onto the apron, stands, and points a single finger in the air, looking back at the crowd.
JC: You can call her Misty if you so choose, Brody. But I’m concerned that Dolly Waters might be concussed from that TLC match against Vincent Lane. And tonight, she’s facing off against a man in Bulk Logan who has a lot to prove after losing his XTreme Championship. With a spot in the Leap of Faith match on the line, Bulk Logan will not be backing down!
She steps through the ropes, both hands in the air motioning for noise as she does a slow spin in the center of the ring, then climbs the turnbuckle and points with both hands up to the ceiling.
BG: Exactly! And that’s the difference between Dolly and Misty, JC. In these types of moments, Dolly Waters would fold, but look at Misty! Look how focused, and ready to put on a wrestling masterclass here tonight.
RA: Her opponent!
The lights suddenly dim and Bulk's theme hits the speakers.
JC: Well, here comes the man she’ll need to teach that class on, and he looks fired up folks!
Bulk Logan emerges from the back. The crowd's reaction is immediately split.
Bulk seems unfazed by the negative reactions as he strides down the ramp. Pointing a big finger at Misty Waters as he mouths off to her from down the entrance ramp.
RA: From Venice Beach, California weighing 302 pounds... BULK LLLLOOOOOGAAAAN!
JC: We heard Bulk Logan say in the lead up to this match, that he doesn’t think Dolly Waters can handle the moment of going to Leap of Faith, that she’ll inevitably fail again, that the spot should go to someone who can actually win the 24/7 case.
BG: Normally I would agree with him, the only problem with that idea though, is Bulk Logan isn’t facing Dolly Waters tonight
JC: Yes. He Is.
BG: Did you listen to Misty Waters promo, JC?
JC: Extensively
BG: Then you’ll know that Misty said she was going to make all of the non-believers leap into the Misty Madness tonight, including Bulk Logan!
JC: Yes, and that Bulk Logan would join forces with her after she’s done. So again, I’m SERIOUSLY concerned that Dolly might be suffering from some type of brain trauma
As Bulk Logan approaches the ring, his steps are steady and confident. Bulk occasionally slaps hands with fans reaching out from the cheering fans.
Upon reaching the ring, Bulk ascends the steps and enters between the ropes. He takes a moment to stand in the center of the ring, looking around at the cheering fans, soaking in their support and repaying it with some playful posturing.
Leap of Faith Qualifier
Dolly Misty Waters
- vs -
Bulk Logan
-Standard Rules-
|
The bell rings.
Logan is animated, his large frame at an intimidating advantage over Misty Waters. Misty mouths off to Bulk, offended that he hasn’t already decided to join forces. Pulling the referee's shirt from behind, guiding him and using him as a human wall between herself and Bulk.
JC: Did Dolly Waters even intend on having a match here tonight, Brody?
BG: No, if this were a Dolly Waters match it would already be over, JC. Thankfully for us we’re watching a ring savvy star in the making here with Misty Waters.
Bulk charges at Misty, his fist up, she pushes the ref forward, bumping the two into one another before crawling out the ring, drawing a wild reaction from the crowd.
Misty circles the ring with her hands on her hips, protesting to the ref from the outside about Bulk’s unprofessional demeanor.
JC: Seems as if Dolly is telling the ref that Bulk is too amped up, and this crowd is starting to tell her about it
The crowd roars in protest at Misty while Bulk dares her to return the ring. After a moment she obliges once the ref agrees to move Logan to the other side of the ring. Misty slides under the bottom rope, and before she can get vertical, she’s taken down by a big hand rake across her back from Logan.
Misty wails out, but quickly reteartes back under the rope, just missing out on a big stomp from Bulk Logan. The crowd roars again in protest. Misty starts ciricling the ring as the ref begins a count-
1
2
Misty heads toward the ring apron in front of the commentary team, but quickly drops back to the floor as Bulk approaches.
3
4
JC: Brody, at this point the fans are furious, and I know Bulk Logan must be too!
BG: This is exactly what she wants to do JC! Misty is out-thinking Logan, and frankly, the entire arena right now.
JC: She’s running like a coward, Brody!
Literally. Bulk saw enough and takes off out of the ring, chasing Misty ringside near the break for the entrance ramp. Misty’s eyes go wide, she darts back underneath the bottom rope, and fire rolls to the center of the mat. Getting up to both knees just in time for Logan to be right in front of her. Misty holds up a hand, begging Bulk to reconsider fighting her.
Logan rears back, ready to strike, but Misty screams out and points behind Bulk. His attention is diverted for a moment, and Misty begins scrambling to the other side of the ring. She's wheel barrelling onto the floor, her feet still on the apron. Bulk grabs onto a leg and drags her up, onto the apron, her legs under the bottom rope. Bulk sends a big knee through the ropes, catching Misty in the chest and partially in her face. He grabs at her head and starts pulling.
JC: He’s got her now!
The crowd roars, but Logan only falls backward- with Misty’s red wig in his hands.
BG: Didn’t I tell you, JC!? Misty Waters is prepared to counter anything Bulk Logan tries!
JC: She’s running scared, Brody! And now this wig is just another opportunity for her to bide her time!
Misty stands to the apron now, screaming in protest to the ref that Bulk is being disrespectful for pulling her wig off. The ref has seen enough. He orders Waters back in the ring. Bulk throws the wig to the canvass, drawings nother scream from Misty in the process as she climbs through the ropes. She runs by Logan, ducking him and picking up the wig from the mat as she runs to the next set of ropes.
BUT ON THE REBOUND IT’S LOGAN WITH BIG CLOTHESLINE!
And this crowd in Denver is starting to throw their full support behind the Bulkamania. Bulk pumps his fists and snatches onto the back of Misty’s tights, pulling her up from the mat and planting her with a stiff powerslam. All the while Misty is clutching onto the wig for dear life. She’s sitting upright, her eyes squeezed closed in pain as she hollers out. Logan rakes her back again, and then kicks her in the spine, causing her to tumble over on her hands and knees. Misty desperately tries to scramble to the ropes, but Bulk lifts her with ease, hitting a big forearm smash in the back of her neck before picking her up and stunning her with a powerful atomic drop.
JC: And Misty Waters in real trouble now! Falling THROUGH THE ROPES, and out to the floor after that exchange with the Bulkster.
Misty indeed falls through the ropes and smacks into the barricade. She’s staggering and groaning, but still pulling herself up, and still clutching thatw ig. She begins pulling it ack over her skull as Bulk approaches AND GOES FOR THE BIG BOOT!
But his leg misses, leaving him straddling the barricade as Misty just barely doged. With Bulk in a bad way, Misty attacks. Leaping and striking Logan in the ear with a palm smack. She climbs on the barrier now, facing the stradling Logan. Bulk sweeps his arm at Misty’s legs but she’s already leaped in the air, cracking Logan in the nose with a falling dropkick. Both Misty and Logan smack the arena floor. Logan holds his face and climbs to one knee. Misty adjusts her wig and stands up, she charges at Bulk going for a running dropkick now, but Logan catches her midair.
He smashes her with a body slam into the apron and lifts her face from the floor to bashes her in the forehead with a punch, a couple of times over. Logan pulls Misty up by the head now, and starts running with her, guiding her face first toward the steel ring post!
But Misty slips from her wig again! Bulk only bases his own forearm into the post, and Now Misty attacks from behind with a shotgun dropkick, sending Bulk face first into the steel now. Misty rolls into the ring and begins demanding the ref to count Logan out.
1
2
3
Logan arises much to Misty’s dismay, who is ordering the ref to hurry up the count
4
5
6
Misty is stomping mad now, watching Bulk get vertical just near the apron, clutching Misty’s wig. He points through the ropes, his head swollen from the shot to the steel post.
7
8
Bulk rolls into the ring and charges to Misty who
JC: THAT COWARD!
BG: The genius you mean!
Slips out of the ring again just as Bulk was nearing her to grapple. The fans begin booing. Misty points her finger in the air and begins dancing on her tiptoes, mocking Bulk Logan, and drawing more heat from the crowd.
Bulk wastes no time chasing her out of the ring now, as Misty darts away running laps around the ring side, as Bulk desperately tries to catch her. But Misty is lightning fast. After two slaps around the ring, she slides back onto the canvas on the entrance ramps side. Logan slides in from the commentary desk side. The two charge one another, and Misty baseball slides under Bulks legs. Rising behind him and bashing Logan in the back with a forearm, snatching for the wig. She has it in her hand, but Logan won't let go. He uses the tug of war over the wig to spin Misty around and pull her into a belly to belly suplex, crushing her under his weight. Bulk covers-
1
2
BG: No way, JC! Bulk can keep dreaming!
Misty kicks out at an early two, but rather than mounting any offense, she keeps tugging the wig away from Bulk who pulls back again as the two stand together. Misty is whipped by the wig in her hand, the more powerful Bulk having the advantage as Misty’s hold breaks. She’s flung into the ropes and eats another powerful clothesline on the rebound.
Bulk motions to the crowd, cuffing his ear, and the fans are eating it up.
JC: Despite the questionable tactics from Dolly Waters, and all of her claims this week, it appears to me that Bulkamania is alive and well!
Bulk lifts Misty from the mat and pulls her near, biting her on her bald head and pushing her into the corner. Bulk mounts Misty and begins teeing off on her skull!
1!
The crowd counts along
2!!
3!!!
4!!!!
5!!!!!
6!!!!!!
7!!!!!!!
8!!!!!!!!
9!!!!!!!!!
Bulk spits in his hand and slaps it down on the top of Misty’s head
10!!!!!!!!!!
He drops from the mount then face washes Misty with her wig. He stops and turns back to taunt the fans again. Misty is reeling, but with the wig free on her body now, she does everything she can to try putting it back on her head. It’s backward, but it’s on her skull again. Logan flexes then body slams Misty as she stumbles away from the ropes.
JC: Bulk Logan in full control here!
He picks Misty up again and slings her into the ropes- BIG BOOT!
The crowd is going wild!
Bulk runs for the ropes!
LEG DROP OF GLOOM!
Logan leaps in the air, but on the way down, he’s caught in the face by Misty’s wig, blinding him. Waters rolls out of the way and Logan smacks the canvas, rear first. Logan is prone and reeling.
RUNNING WATERS!
Logan just barely moves out of the way as Misty whiffs the football kick to the skull.
Logan is back up and charging at Misty, who flees again. She runs to the ropes and slides under the bottom- BUT HOLDS ONTO THE ROPES! She pulls the bottom rope down and releases just in time for the rope to crack into Logan’s shins.
Misty hops on the apron and scurries over to the turnbuckle as Logan hobbles out to the center of the ring. She leaps at Logan with a diving splash, but the Bulkster catches her again! Taunting to the crowd Misty in arms. He body slams her- NO! Misty slides behind Bulk’s back and retreats again!
Bulk chases!
Misty dives toward the ropes
ODE TO POMP!
The springboard european uppercut bounces back and cleans’ Bulk’s clock.
Both wrestlers are down on all fours. But Misty’s eyes go wide, as she spots Bulk starting to Bulk-up. The trademark move doesn’t appear to have phased him. His head is shaking now. His fists clenched and pumping as the crowd roars. Misty again darts for the ropes, looking to exit the ring, drawing bulk over- only Misty stops short of exiting, abruptly turning back to shoulder Bulk through the ropes and into his gut. Bulk tumbles over, gasping for air, while Misty rushes in, tackling Bulk over with an oklahoma roll…
BG: The Rolling Waters!
Misty rolls Bulk up from the side, using every inch of her legs to bridge up a taller a pin on Bulk’s shoulders
1!
2!!
3!!!
WINNER - MISTY WATERS
Advances to Leap of Faith
|
JC: Dolly Waters survived that match by the skin of her teeth Brody!
BG: Dolly did no such thing, JC! That was Misty Waters showing us all why she’s a force to be reckoned with after one of the most brilliant tactical wrestling performances I’ve ever seen
JC: Tactical wrestling? She sued her wig as a foreign object multiple times-
BG: Bulk brought the wig into the match, not Misty!
Pomp and Circumstance fill the arena as the crowd is stunned in silence.
Bulk is already on his feet, double checking with the ref that the count was correct. Misty approaches Bulk, holding her ribs in pain from all of those body slams. She’s holding out a hand to Logan. He looks at Misty’s hand, and rubs the back of his neck, then looks at the crowd. Misty is mouthing something to Bulk about The Mega Powers as the crowd grows louder and louder for Bulkimania.
BG: Misty said she was going to revive Bulkamania tonight, and JC, just listening to this crowd, I believe that has been accomplished!
JC: And as promised, she’s trying to convince Bulk to join forces with her- but after that shady win-
BG: Brilliant, TACTICAL win, JC
JC: Well, whatever you call it, Bulkamania would have to be an idiot to-
Bulk grabs Misty’s hand, shaking it and then raising it in to the air. The crowd pops like crazy.
JC: Uhhh..
BG: She told everyone, JC! The Misty Madness is here to take over the XWF! And now that she’s formed the Mega Powers with Bulk Logan, what could possibly stop her?!
Bulk begins flexing in the ring while Misty claps her hands, taunting the fans and asking them to get louder, which they happily oblige. We cut to commercial with Misty and Bulk celebrating in the ring.
Micheal nervously looks around to make sure no one is watching. Pussyfoot Pete is standing next to him, his cat mask slightly askew.
Graves: (grinning maniacally) "Alright, Pete. This is it. If Duke thinks he can keep us out, he's got another thing coming."
Graves presses down on the detonator, but nothing happens.
Pussyfoot Pete looks puzzled and steps closer to the stack of explosives.
Pussyfoot Pete: (scratching his head) "Uh, boss? I think you forgot to insert the fuse."
Graves: (facepalming) "Well don't just stand there—FIX IT, YOU DUMMY!!!"
Pussyfoot Pete nods, picks up the fuse and walks over to the dynamite. Just as he's about to complete the task, Graves' eyes widen in the horror of realization.
Graves: "NO, WAIT!"
But it's too late.
The bad news: As soon as the fuse is in place, the dynamite ignites, and Pussyfoot Pete is blown into a red mist.
The good news: The explosion rocks the loading bay doors, blasting them open with a deafening roar.
Graves looks momentarily shocked, but quickly shakes it off.
Graves: (muttering to himself) "Sorry, Pete. But rest assured—Duke's gonna pay for this!"
He brushes pussyfoot chunks off of his shoulder and slips through the now open door.
BG: Micheal Graves has entered the building!
JC: That's what you took away from this!? Pussyfoot Pete just got blown to smithereens!
BG: That's unfortunate, Jacuinde! I would never deny that! But the fact is... Pete successfully accomplished his mission tonight and Micheal Graves has entered the Ball Arena.
JC: ... hmmm... welp, Warfare rolls on right after this!
JC: We're back here on Warfare and ladies and gentlemen, attorneys for the XWF have assured us that the XWF can not be held accountable for the untimely demise of Pussyfoot Pete as the incident happened outside the venue.
BG: That's a relief.
JC: That being said, our hearts go out to the family and fan of Pete.
BG: Fan?
JC: I said what I said, but it's time to move on! Ladies and gentlemen, without further adieu, the second of our two title matches this evening. Deathproof, the King himself, Corey Black is set to defend against XWF Newcomer Holden Payne.
BG: This man Holden Payne has not had the easiest of roads!
JC: He surely hasn't! He debuted at the Revelry going one on one with Mark Flynn!
RA: The following contest, is an Xtreme Rules match set for one fall! It's for the XWF Xtreme Championship!
RA: Introducing the challenger! From Ironwood, Michigan weighing 225 pounds... HOLDENNN PAYYYYYYNE!
BG: Flynn isn't an easy out by any means but by all accounts, despite falling short, Holden Payne held his own!
JC: He most certainly did and the reward for that? An Xtreme title match tonight against Mr. Black.
BG: One could argue it's not a reward at all though... Corey Black is kind of made for this environment.
A focused Holden Payne emerges from the backstage, his eyes locked on the ring. He marches down the ramp without any unnecessary gestures or emotion. Climbing onto the apron, he pauses to survey the crowd briefly before slipping between the ropes and stretching his limbs, preparing for the battle ahead.
JC: Holden Payne is kind of a throwback, wouldn't you say Brody?
BG: He is! Kind of a no frills, no nonsense kind of guy!
RA: His opponent!
The lights in the arena fade slowly to black. The crushing sound of Slayer's "Raining Blood" blasts over the speakers, sending the crowd in attendance into a fit. Headbanging, horns in the air, the whole nine. They scream out the lyrics as on the stage emerges Corey Black bathed in a white light, red ones circle the arena, wearing a hooded black denim vest that has metal band patches all over it. Corey stands at the top of the ramp, looking out into the frenzy, nodding his approval.
RA: From Minneapolis, Minnesota! Weighing 222 pounds! He IS the REIGNING! DEFENDING! XWF Champion of XTREEME! KING! COREY! BLACK!
JC: The Xtreme Champion!
BG: Corey Black wanted a wrestler... so Duke gave him a wrestler!
JC: That title is on the line tonight!
He makes his way down the ramp, taking his time to survey the carnage around him and get himself a good look at the ring before him. As he reaches it, Corey slides in under the bottom rope and pops to his feet, unleashing a roar and throwing the devil horns into the air toward the hard cam. He takes the vest off and drops it to ringside before heading to his corner and crouching down, waiting for the match to begin.
XWF Xtreme Championship
Corey Black ©
- vs -
Holden Payne
-Xtreme Rules-
|
The referee gets the match underway! Black and Payne circle one another, and tie up! Payne is in with a hammerlock to Black, and Black with a back elbow to Payne! Payne refuses to release the hammerlock! Black with another back elbow, but Payne ducks! Payne with a waistlock, and he nails a hammerlock assisted back drop! No, Black flips out and onto his feet! Black rushes in with a clothesline, but Payne ducks! Black off the ropes, Payne with a leapfrog! Black again back off the ropes, Payne hits the deck! Black stops himself as Payne gets to his feet, and both men square up and face one another!
JC: Both men are well prepared for a championship match tonight!
BG: Holden Payne is holding his own, there may be a bright future in the XWF for this young man!
Black with a solid chop across the chest of Payne!
*CRACK!*
Payne absorbs the chop, and fires back!
*CRACK!*
Black looks incensed as he fires a chop back at Payne!
*CRACK!*
Payne refuses to back down, and a huge chop back to Black!
*CRACK!”
JC: Neither man is backing down!
BG: Something’s got to give tonight though!
Both men grab the other by the back of the head and start throwing rapid forearms to one another! Both men spill out of the ring as they do, and begin fighting in front of the announce table! Black goes to mash Payne’s head into the announce table! No, Payne puts his hand down, catching himself, and reverses! Payne bounces Black’s head off the announce table! Black with a knee lift to Payne’s midsection, backing him away! They move down and begin to fight in front of the Spanish announce table!
JC: Our friends at the Spanish announce table are front and center for the action!
BG: Bonjour fellas!
JC: …that’s French, Brody.
BG: No, they’re in front of the Spanish announce table!
Payne with a vicious back chop to Black! Black with an overhand elbow to Payne! Black hooks Payne, and throws a snap suplex! Black back to his feet, and he climbs the Spanish announce table! Black off the announce table with a moonsault! Payne gets his knees up, and Black eats knee! Payne rolls to his knees and stands, and he picks Black up! Northern Lights suplex from Payne, and he bridges for the pin!
1…
2…
Black kicks out! Payne rolls over and looks underneath the ring!
JC: Holden Payne seems to be looking for something!
BG: Jacuinde, he could be looking for anything, who knows what’s kept under the XWF ring!
As Black gets to his feet, he turns to see Payne producing a brown cloth sack from beneath the ring! Payne seems baffled by what it could be, and Black backs away as Payne looks. Payne shudders at the sight of whatever was inside and pulls the drawstring of the bag tight, dropping it instantly! Black rushes Payne with a Yakuza kick! Black connects, sending Payne backwards and in front of the Japanese announce desk!
JC: Now our brethren in the Japanese announce team have a great view of the action!
BG: That’s well and good, but what was in that bag?
Black picks the bag up, and opens it. He goes wide eyed as he reaches in and pulls out a massive snake! He stalks Payne with it, who backs away, until he can’t go any further, stuck against the Latin announce desk!
JC: Oh my, they found a snake, and now they’re at the Latin announce desk!
BG: Wait, we broadcast in Latin, as in the language that’s pretty much just used for legal and scientific terms!?
JC: Absolutely, Brody, the XWF has proudly broadcast in Latin since 2011!
The Latin announce team, clad in togas, look on in terror at the snake from the bag! Black wraps the snake around his leg and rushes in with a snake assisted V-Trigger to the mortified Payne! Payne ducks, and Black soars past the Latin announce desk! The snake, which is absolutely terrified itself, slithers off through the crowd to safety as the Latin announce team shout!
JC: This is a wild match here tonight!
BG: It sure is, partner, how did I never notice the Latin announce team before!?
Payne rounds the Roman columns of the Latin announce table, confronting Black as he gets to his feet! Both men throw forearms at one another until they spill out into the crowd! Black sends Payne recoiling with an elbow strike! Black scoops Payne, and plants him with a Tombstone Piledriver in the crowd! Black with the pin!
1…
2…
Payne barely kicks out at 2.9! Black can’t believe it!
JC: There’s no quit in Holden Payne!
BG: He knows what’s at stake here tonight!
Black brings Payne back to his feet, and both men brawl up the stairs, and out of the arena!
JC: Where did they go?
BG: I don’t know, someone send a camera crew after them!
In the halls of Ball Arena, past concession stands and fans alike, we see Holden Payne and Corey Black continue to fight! They are grappling right towards the camera, and knock into it! Suddenly, the view goes dark!
JC: Fans, we’re trying to get another camera to follow that match!
BG: Do it, we should have plenty!
We catch up and see Black and Payne are fighting in a men’s room!
Payne slams Black’s head into a sink! NO! Black with an elbow to Payne’s midsection!
Black with an overhead belly-to-belly suplex to Payne, sending him crashing through a stall door!
From the stall next door, Denver’s own Don Cheadle steps out, pulling up his pants and looking absolutely shocked!
Black looks up and is surprised to see Cheadle himself!
Cheadle points at Black, who turns, and is hit with a knee lift from Payne!
Payne with an inverted atomic drop to Black!
Payne bangs Black’s head off of the air hand dryer on the wall, causing it to turn on!
Payne with another slam into the hand dryer, but Black blocks!
Black kicks the back of Payne’s knee, sending him to the ground, and Black holds Payne’s face under the hand dryer!
Hot air blasts Payne’s face!
Don Cheadle is washing his hands, and looks frustrated he can’t dry them!
Payne fights out of the predicament, and both men fight their way out of the bathroom and back into the concourse!
Once there, Black picks up a trash can and rushes at Payne with it!
Black hurls the trash can, but Payne ducks, and the trash can smashes into the camera!
JC: Oh my, another broken camera!
BG: Quick, get someone out there to record what’s happening!
We catch up with Black and Payne now in a massive loading dock. The XWF trucks dominate the view as techs, hands, and other regular folks who make the whole show work scramble out of view!
Black with a V-Trigger to Payne!
NO! Payne ducks and Black lands on top of a heavy duty case!
Payne with a forearm to Black atop the case!
Payne begins to push the case towards the edge of an open bay in the dock, looking to send it and Black several feet to the hard concrete below!
Black rolls off the case at the last moment as it crashes onto concrete!
Black with a spinning savate kick to Payne!
Payne catches the leg, and hits a dragon screw onto Black!
Payne follows up with a single leg crab onto Black!
Black howls in pain as the referee checks to see if he’ll tap!
Black hooks Payne’s ankle though, and pulls himself out of the hold, kicking Payne away!
Black gets to his feet as Payne grips another heavy duty equipment case and rolls it at Black!
Black moves out of the way, and the case crashes into the camera, disabling it!
JC: That’s another camera! Quick, we need to follow this match!
BG: The poor cameramen are earning their pay today!
The view cuts to Jacuinde and Brody.
JC: Wait, I just got word from the back, while they try to get another camera crew to track down Corey Black and Holden Payne, they’re going to go ahead with the show!
BG: Show must go on!
WINNER - TO BE CONTINUED!!
|
JC: We’re back here on Warfare and we'll try to catch up with Corey Black and Holden Payne, but first…
Abruptly, the lights cut out in the arena and the screen lights up with the image of rolling film. Displayed on scratchy footage is a dim room, a single light shining down from a lamp in the ceiling. Jonathan Bacchus reclines back in a metal folding chair, sunglasses over his eyes, a military beret perched upon his head, and a cigarette in hand. A massive figure sits across from him, back to the camera and identity obscured by shadows save a tailored suit and a bald head.
Jonathan Bacchus: I’m a humanist. I’m a moralist. And it’s my great feeling of love and drive for dignity and freedom which guides me. We at Insurgentsia fight so that mankind can face the darkness with fear no more – that is our cross.
A crackle and a quick cut. Bacchus’s sunglasses are removed and in his hand as he looks upwards in amusement.
Jonathan Bacchus: The fight doesn’t need to be fought decently… but it must be fought uncompromisingly. For too long has the Golden Rule governed the conduct of war; this has allowed malefactors to exploit the goodness of naive people in furtherance of wickedness. That’s why I reject Kantian perspectives. Morality is not a code of conduct, it is an ideological aim: the moral man is not the one who offers mercy to monsters but strikes them down before they can continue to prey. We do not live in a perfect world – we cannot afford the luxury of optimism. Utopia requires a steady hand and a readied trigger finger.
Another cut – a coy smile upon the Man in Black’s face.
Jonathan Bacchus: There’s so many – too many – little goblins in this business who cast themselves as supervillains and chessmasters; I wanted to take it to task. You learn a lot about the landscape with stunts like these: some surprise you, while others disappoint. What was I trying to say? Nothing at all… I was listening.
A final cut. A close up as Bacchus brings the cigarette to his lips for a final drag, his lips spreading into a Cheshire grin.
Jonathan Bacchus: …And now we’re prepared.
The film ends, plunging the arena into darkness.
The opening hum of “The Gnashing” by Deafheaven begins to play over the speakers as a new image comes on the screen: the Sigil of Insurgentsia. As the song kicks into full gear, lighting bursts in bright white flashes before spotlights shine up to the rafters. From four different corners slink the dark outlines of four figures, their clothes mostly blending into the shadows but all revealed by the featureless white mask over their faces, like a parliament of owls. Meeting in the middle, one of the figures reaches up to remove his mask, revealing his identity as Jonathan Bacchus to a mixed reception from the crowd.
After the other three secure a rope, Bacchus attaches himself to it with a harness before pushing off and rappelling down to the ring. The spotlights follow his descent until he lands safely in the ring, unclips himself, and raises a hand to catch a tossed microphone. The lights slowly raise along with the rope back to the rafters as he looks out on the crowd.
JC: Johnny Bacchus! Here LIVE in Denver!
BG: He did us all a favor at the Revelry and bashed that entitled idiot in the skull!
Jonathan Bacchus: I could never resist the theatrics.
He gives a coy smile as the crowd reaction is decidedly mixed, the overwhelming response being boos rained upon him. If anything, the reception only seems to make him grin more.
Jonathan Bacchus: I last stepped foot in an XWF ring back in February when I faced off with now-General Manager Thaddeus Duke. A month before that I dipped my toes into the company in the First Blood Battle Royale. And almost a half year before that I stepped foot here for the first time… against a man who bested me not only then but in that Battle Royale and went onto become your XWF Universal Champion: Sebastian Everett-Bryce.
A cheer of appreciation from the crowd at the name of the champion! … Followed by a smattering of boos for the implication. Bacchus raises a hand to quiet the crowd.
Jonathan Bacchus: But I assure you that my actions at the Revelry have no foundation in pettiness. What you witnessed was not an envious act of revenge or craven opportunism – merely an aphorism of violence.
It could have been anyone. In fact, there are many, many individuals in this company who deserved it more than Sebastian Everett-Bryce. But it had to be Sebastian Everett-Bryce. It had to be a can of paint dashed across the portrait of the ruling class. You do not make revolution against towns and hamlets … you make it against the Empire.
Boos. Hard, loud, boos. Bacchus’s grin dissipates into a quiet but stern expression.
Jonathan Bacchus: Is Sebastian Everett-Bryce not a just king, you say? Would I be able to place my heart against the Feather of Maat, look Sebastian in the eye and say, “Thus always to the tyrant?” To which I reply… such questions are irrelevant. So to answer the more pertinent question, which is not “why?” but “elaborate?”, I say –
JC: Here comes! THE Universal Champion!
BG: Son of a bitch.
Fame, fame, fame, fame
Fame, fame, fame, fame
Fame, fame, fame, fame
Fame, fame, fame, fame
Fame, fame, fame, fame
Fame, fame, fame, fame
Fame, fame, fame, fame
Faaaaaaaaaame
The crowd pops as the XWF Universal Champion, Sebastian Everett-Bryce strides from backstage down the aisle - there’s no pause. There’s no stopping to high five fans - no, this is a Sebastian Everett-Bryce intent on addressing the man in the ring. Seb grabs a microphone as he climbs the steps. He steps between the ropes, his music cutting off.
For a moment, he looks as though he’s not going to speak, but instead, he begins to pace, while lifting the microphone to his mouth.
Sebastian Everett-Bryce: Hello Jonathan…
There is no smile, no usual arrogant mockery in the look he gives Bacchus. Instead, the look he delivers is of pure fury.
Sebastian Everett-Bryce: You know, usually in situations like these I can laugh them off and call it the nature of the business. I can let the intent wash over me without so much as a second thought. I would allow the injustice to pass, knowing that, one way or another, the time would come when I would have the chance to return the favour - but this felt different. This is different, I could tell the moment I saw your face at The Revelry I knew - this wasn’t a moment I could just walk away from.
Seb tilts his head, not a hint of amusement upon his face.
Sebastian Everett-Bryce: So here I am, Jonathan. The object of your obsession - are you happy now? Is this what you wanted? My full and undivided attention - I’m sorry to say, you may not have that quite yet, given what we learned earlier tonight, but you have earned my ear and my ire. So use one, and expect recompense for the other.
Seb stepped towards Bacchus.
Sebastian Everett-Bryce: Tell me - when you look yourself in the mirror and tell yourself that your attack wasn’t about jealousy, are you convinced by your own lie? When you say it has nothing to do with the fact that I have bested you every… single… time… we have stepped in the ring together? Do you truly believe that this is about your so-called revolution, and not just an attempt for you to revise history. Because standing here, seeing the green of your eyes, I can’t help but wonder if that very colour runs through your entire core.
Seb leaned forward a little close, his lips almost
Sebastian Everett-Bryce: Maybe I should break you open and check, hmm?
Jonathan cants his head up and to the side, matching Seb’s look even if a small smile creeps upon his lips in contrast to Seb’s cold intensity.
Jonathan Bacchus: No.
He says it softly, the smile dropping.
Jonathan Bacchus: With all due respect, my champion, this fight isn’t happening on your time, it’s happening on mine. And what I mean by that is simple: I’m not going to win a battle royale and skip to the front of the line, nor did I plant you in that ring as a gambit into a trap. Even if I win Leap of Faith — and rest assured, I have every intention of doing so — we’ll do this when I want and when I feel I deserve it.
A pause, the two men staring pure ice at one another.
Jonathan Bacchus: But I did what I did to ensure you know that I’m here, that I’m watching, and that I have every intention of storming the capitol. Maybe I’ll show up on Warfare, or maybe even on Anarchy — you won’t know, but you’ll always know I’m somewhere. That I’m always watching and always listening, and that every hallway you walk down or parking lot you walk into could be a moment in the scope, finger rested in the trigger, ready to squeeze at my decision.
The words come out in a practical hiss, the two still chest-to-chest as the audience jeers the Insurgent’s words.
Sebastian Everett-Bryce: Seeing as we’re both revealing things that one another should know, then I’d like you to allow this to fester inside that beautiful mind - whether you make the choice sooner or later, the outcome will be the same.
Seb’s mouth curls into a sneer.
Sebastian Everett-Bryce: I’m going to hurt you so badly, your entire outlook on the world will change.
And with this, Bacchus’s mouth curls back into a smirk.
Jonathan Bacchus: I believe you.
He pauses. The smirk does not widen — merely settles into a serene smile.
Jonathan Bacchus: And that’s why it had to be you.
He drops his microphone as “The Gnashing” hits the P.A., walking directly backwards until he hits the ropes and exiting the ring without once turning his back to the champion. Seb walks over to the ropes, the title gleaming on his shoulder as brilliant as his expression is cold and murderous. Bacchus pushes himself up to stand on the barricade before the crowd. He yells back at Seb, no microphone as his voice only picked up by the cameras.
Jonathan Bacchus: You, sir, should unmask! We have all laid aside disguise but you.
JC: I have it on very good authority that Mr. Bacchus will make his Warfare in-ring debut in two weeks! Warfare will return in just a minute. Stay with us!
And with that, he slips off into the crowd, pulling up his hood and disappearing amongst the masses, leaving the champion in the ring as the scene fades to black.
JC: We're back here on Warfare and while Johnny Bacchus versus Sebastian Everett-Bryce is placed on a simmer, I'm told that we still haven't found the whereabouts of Corey Black and Holden Payne!
BG: Those two are tearing it up somewhere, no doubt!
JC: Once we do, we will bring you the finish of that match! But, air time isn't free and the show must roll on!
RA: The following contest is set for ONE FALL!
The lights dim as multiple spotlights rotate throughout the arena. As "Zenorus" begins to play, the spotlights all point to the stage, illuminating a velvet red curtain. As the orchestra dies down, vines creep from around the edges of the curtain, and rose petals begin to fall around the arena. Then, on the entrance of the choir in the music, the curtain is drawn open, revealing the imposing figure of Dionysus, holding a Thyrsus in his right hand and a shield on his left arm. He clashes the staff against his shield to rouse the crowd to clap with him, then roars, raising the Thyrsus above his head.
RA: Making his way to the ring, from Minneapolis Minnesota, weighing in at 270 lbs; he is The Catalyst, DIONYSUS!
Dionysus sets the Thyrsus and shield next to the ring apron and rolls inside, running to one of the turnbuckles and climbing up to rally the crowd behind him. He then hops down and limbers up, awaiting his opponent.
JC: Dionysus came within an eyelash of taking the Universal Championship at The Revelry!
BG: Close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades, Jacuinde! He came up short, that's all that counts!
JC: It most certainly isn't all that counts! You think winning and losing is all that matters? Dionysus proved beyond any doubt that he belongs in the main event scene here in the XWF!
RA: His opponent! From Battle Creek, Michigan weighing 210 pounds... MARK! FUCKING! FLYNN!
JC: Mr. 24/7 making his presence known earlier tonight as he signaled his intent to use his briefcase at Leap of Faith!
BG: Such a disappointment, Jacuinde! He should've cashed in tonight! No warning, but with one hell of a receipt!
JC: Wish in one hand, Brody! In any event, Mark Flynn and Dionysus are certainly no strangers to one another!
BG: They've traded a couple wins over the last few months.
JC: This will be a rubber match of sorts!
Dionysus
- vs -
Mark Flynn
-Standard Rules-
|
Mark Flynn walks up on the steps and then climbs to the top turnbuckle and looks around the arena with a cold stare and then looks down at the mat and waits for the bell.
*BELL RINGS*
Flynn and Dionysus meet in the center of the ring while fans chant both of their names as one side chants FLYNN!!! Loudly while the others chant DIONYSUS!!!! LOUDLY
JC: These folks are so hyped for this match.
BG: As they should!
Flynn and Dionysus smirk at each other and then start trading blows in the middle of the ring as they go back and forth. Dionysus, Flynn, Dionysus, Flynn, Dionysus, Flynn, Dionysus, Flynn, Dionysus, Flynn, and then Flynn again as he gains the advantage and then hits Dionysus with a thunderous chop to the chest that echoes throughout the arena.
JC: Sounded like a shotgun went off in here with that chop.
Fly then hits a step-up enziguri to the head of Dionysus and then hits a suplex and then transitions into an elbow drop into the chest of Dionysus and then lifts him up to deliver a series of chops to Dionysus's chest and then goes for a punch but Dionysus blocks the punch and fires back with one of his own and make sit back to his feet and starts unloading with hellish punches and then slings Flynn into the corner and meets him with a closeline and then hits a suplex out of the corner and Dionysus follows up by heading up to the top turnbuckle but ends up slipping and lose his balance, this gives Flynn a chance to get up and leap up on the top turnbuckle with Dionysus and hits an avalanche belly to belly suplex off the top turnbuckle.
JC: The athleticism by Flynn is just unreal.
BG: Air Flynn baby!
Flynn goes for the cover as the referee gets in position to make the count.
ONE….
TWO….
KICKOUT!!!!!
Dionysus gets his shoulder up and rolls over to the ropes and pulls himself up as Flynn makes his way towards him and as Flynn closes in look to grab Dionysus, Dionysus flips Flynn over the ropes to the outside and then uses the ropes to springboard over them and hit a crossbody on top of Flynn and then unloads with some punches before rolling back inside the ring, waiting on Flynn to stagger back to his feet before Dionysus bounces off the ropes to gain momentum as he comes flying through the middle ropes like a rocket as he hits a suicide dive into Flynn that sends him crashing into the barricade.
JC: HOLY SHIT!!!!
Dionysus rolls back into the ring and the back out to restart the referee count and then lifts Flynn up and leans him against the barricade and unleashes a thunderous chop to his chest and the grabs him by the back of his head and throws him into the ringpost and then rolls him inside the ring. Dionysus waits for Flynn to stagger up to one knee and then hits him with a shinning wizard and goes for the pin.
ONE….
TWO…..
KICKOUT!!!!!!!
Flynn and Dionysus both get up on their knees and face each other as they talk a little trash to each other and then they start trading punches back and forth. Flynn, Dionysus, Flynn, Dionysus, Flynn, Dionysus, Flynn, Dionysus, Flynn, and then Flynn again as he makes his way to his feet and then unleashes a series of leg kicks to the chest of Dionysus before backing up and delivering a roundhouse kick to the head of Dionysus that sends him slumped over.
JC: Flynn damn near took his head off.
BG: It's unfortunate he didn't!
Flynn got to his feet and lined up, hitting Dionysus in the gut with a soccer kick. Flynn pulled Dionysus up, delivering a forearm strike for good measure on the way up. Flynn went for a vertical suplex but Dionysus blocked it with his leg before bringing Flynn over with a thunderous slam that led to a pop from the crowd.
JC: He may have appeared down but it seems Dionysus has found his second wind!
BG: Hopefully it's his last!
Dionysus got back to his feet and Flynn followed moments after. Flynn was met by a side kick from Dionysus followed by a football takedown that led to Dionysus throwing rights and lefts at Flynns face. Dionysus got off of Flynn and pulled his opponent up. Dionysus sent Flynn into the ropes and caught him on the rebound with a hip toss. Flynn got to a seated position and received a stiff kick to the upper back. Dionysus hit off of the ropes and drove a running knee to the back of Flynns head.
JC: Dionysus in firm command of this match!
BG: Never count out the King of the Midcarders!
Dionysus pulled his opponent to his feet and lifted him up with his elevated DDT, Dionysus pulled himself up, Flynn began to get up and Dionysus hit him with a forearm smash. Flynn was dazed when Dionysus connected with a superkick that sent Flynn hurling towards the corner. Flynn body was prone against the corner when Dionysus came running in with a running splash. Flynn fell to the mat but instinctively rolled out of the ring to the floor.
JC: He may not be in control of the match but it’s clear that Flynn is still very much aware of the situation around him.
BG: That's what makes Mark Flynn the special talent that he is!
Dionysus moved slowly but climbed out of the ring and onto the floor. Flynn was prepared, as the referee was out of position, Flynn connected with a low blow and followed that up with a jawbreaker on the outside. Flynn pulls Dionysus by the hair and tossed him face first into the steel steps.
JC: Now come on referee, you need to be on top of things like that!
BG: I see no foul play here at all!
Flynn grabbed Dionysus and rolled him back under the ropes, Flynn followed his opponent a moment after. Flynn got into the ring and began to signal for the end as Dionysus was shaking off the cobwebs in the corner and then Flynn went for Riparte ( A Running Knee to a cornered Dionysus that catches him under the chin. Flynn then drags them out of the corner and into a northern light suplex for a pin.
ONE…..
TWO……..
THREE!!!!!!!!!!
JC: Mark Flynn! He makes a visit to the proverbial pay window tonight in Denver!
BG: That was one hell of a match, Jacuinde! The NEXT Universal Champion just proved that his time is just on the horizon!
JC: Dionysus falls short tonight and he'll be looking to get back on track here in two weeks in D.C.!
BG: That's what's great about this business Jacuinde! Each outing can be your best, your worst or your last!
JC: Universe, keep it right here as there's more Warfare when we come back!
JC: Welcome back here on Warfare and Brody, Steve Sayors is standing by waiting to get a word with Dolly Waters.
BG: Misty.
JC: Steve?
BG: No, Misty.
We’re taken backstage where Steve Sayors is waiting outside Dolly Waters dressing room. The placard on the door is scratched out with “Misty” written in bright red lipstick. Sayors goes to knock but the door flies open.
“Dolly- I mean...”
What DO you mean, Steve Sayors?
“Uh- Misty. Misty Waters, pardon me, I think you’ll have to give everyone some time to adjust to your name.”
Yer’ gonna’ have to adjust to a lot of things Steven Sayors, yeah, yer’ gonna’ have to adjust to The Refined Rebel Misty Waters dominating the XWF, yeah.
“Well, despite some questionable tactics displayed-”
Questionable tactics? I told you I’m more than just boots on a mat, I’m a ring commander, Mean Steve.
“Despite your alternative methods for securing victory here tonight, you did make good on all of your promises. You defeated Bulk Logan, revived Bulkamania, and secured a spot in the Leap of Faith match, all in very impressive fashion.”
Yeeeeah, yer’ right, yeah. It was impressive, and let this be a warning to all of the XWF Superstars in this arena! Now that The Misty Madness is infecting not only the audiences, but the locker room too- now that The Mega Powers have formed- and now that Misty Waters is in the Leap of Faith Match- be aware that yer’ living in the final weeks of the XWF as you knew it. Because what’s to come is gonna’ change the landscape of not just the XWF, but professional wrestling, forever!
“With just over a month to prepare for that pivotal match, the 24/7 Case on the line, just what do you, Misty Waters, plan to accomplish over these next few weeks to make sure this wave of The Misty Madness, as you call it, carries you through to the Universal Championship?”
When you see Misty Waters again, Mean Steve, not only will she be in the best shape that you’ve ever seen her, but she will be a household name. I’m talking NASCAR endorsements, Kentucky Fried Chicken, 60 minutes, t-shirts, video games, micro action figure playsets called Mighty Misty, yeah. Not ONLY will Misty Waters be the healthiest, most capable competitor at Leap of Faith, but I’ll be the most compensated, oooohhh yeeeah! Now if you’ll excuse me...
Misty walks away from Steven Sayors and bangs on an office door backstage. The door opens to Thad Duke’s office.
Great show out there tonight, Dolly. Way to innovate!
Now there’s a sentence that doesn’t make sense.
Misty walks in and drags one of the chairs from in front of Thad’s desk around to the other side, positioning herself a seat right next to Duke.
What do you mean it doesn’t make sense?
Fer’ one, I ain’t Dolly-
Oh, right- he chuckles.
”Misty.”
Yeah, and fer’ two, Dolly would’ve never put on a show like that- which is exactly why I’m here.
And why’s that?
Misty wears an undeniably charming smile, and bats her lashes a few times over, lightening her voice.
I want to negotiate my contract.
What? You literally just signed it.
And aren’t you ashamed of how little is in there?
It’s a copy and paste version of your contract as Dolly- what’s the big deal?
The big deal? Dolly wasn't half of the wrestler that I am, she wasn’t born to be a superstar like me. I want to be paid what I’m worth, and I want the merchandise, and the talk show, and the private jet- the enthusiasm in her tone grows with each demand, as does her proximity to Thad as she leans closer to him with each ask, nearly face to face now.
Dolly was a dumb kid who couldn’t handle the limelight… she eyes Thad up and down
She couldn’t handle a lot of things. While on the other hand, I require it.
Ahem.
The clearing of her throat causes both Misty and Thad to look up and see Lauren standing by the doorway. Misty grabs Thad by his chin and gives him a peck on the cheek.
See ya later, Sug’. Misty says before standing to make her exit.
Thad’s face turns a little red as Misty exchanges a glance with Lauren aka Sahara aka Thad's actual wife while she passes by. By contrast, Lauren rolls her eyes and flashes her a sarcastic smile. Just as Misty struts past Lauren, Thad can’t help himself from staring at the backside of who he believes is Dolly Waters.
”Un… believable.” Lauren says as she folds her arms in front of her.
What!?
”She was eye-fucking you and you just eye-fucked her right back! Why don’t you just rip her clothes off and fuck her right in front of me!?”
Because I didn’t know that was an option!
”You’re ridiculous,” Lauren says as she peels off from the corner and exits the office.
Babydoll! Thad called out as he stood from his desk to go after her.
I was only kidding!
The scene fades to ringside.
JC: I can’t say I saw that coming!
BG: I’m not even sure what I just saw!
JC: Clearly Misty Waters is trying to use some of her feminine wiles to coerce the new boss!
BG: He’s supposedly a recovering slut! I like that strategy!
JC: Geeez... We gotta take a break, Universe! There’s more Warfare when we come back!
JC: Warfare rolls on and Brody, XWF cameras have still yet to catch up to Black and Payne!
BG: I'm not sure if Corey Black expected this kind of fight from Holden Payne, but he no doubt is bringing the fight!
JC: I'm told that they are in sight and we'll bring you the continuation of that match as soon as its possible to do so. But right now, two bonafide XWF legends, two all time greats of the wrestling world are about to go one on one here on Warfare!
BG: Bobby Bourbon continues to be a masterclass in longevity but he'll face Centurion who's been around so long, he was in the crowd to watch Abe Lincoln's debut match!
RA: The following match is set for one fall! Introducing first!
Centurion begins to make his way down to the ring as the crowd in attendance roars at the absolute legend.
RA: From Atlantic City, New Jersey weighing 190 pounds... CENNNTURRRIONNNN!
JC: Say what you will about Centurion, but the man is one of the most prolific and decorated stars that have ever graced an XWF ring or any ring anywhere!
BG: None of that matters as tonight, he'll face one of the baddest SOB's to ever live!
RA: His opponent!
The lights in the arena go deep blue as smoke fills the air. Pink and silver laser lights cut through the smoke and it looks fucking rad.
RA: From the District of Columbia weighing 290 pounds... BOBBYYYYY BOURRRRBONNNN!
As Comanche blares throughout the arena, slowly walking out onto the entrance ramp is Bobby Bourbon. He looks out at the crowd in the arena, cold and stoic, surveying his surroundings. He stops and raises his fists at 45 degree angles, and continues his deliberate plod towards the ring. Bobby climbs the steps, then climbs the nearest ring post half way and raises his fists at 45 degree angles. The lights go back to normal and the music stops.
JC: These men know each other and have known each other for years, Brody.
BG: No love lost between Centurion and Bourbon after all this time.
Bobby Bourbon
- vs -
Centurion
-Standard Rules-
|
Bobby jaws at Centurion as the referee gets the match underway. Cent walks up and stands toe to toe with Bobby, who towers over him. Having had enough, Cent puts a palm to Bobby’s face and shoves!
JC: Cent still has more intestinal fortitude than most people alive!
BG: Bourbon barely budged from that!
Bobby smirks, rolling his eyes, and he redresses Cent again. Cent with a slap to Bobby’s face, which again barely moves the big man. Bobby shoves Cent, who tumbles back and to the mat on his ass, glaring back at Bobby. Cent picks himself up and rushes in with a vicious forearm to Bourbon! Another forearm sends Bobby back! A third forearm sends Bobby into the corner! Cent rushes in and hits Bobby with a dropkick! Bobby stumbles out of the corner along the ropes, and Cent shoots off the ropes and crashes into Bobby with another dropkick, sending him over the top rope to the floor, but Bobby lands on his feet!
JC: Cent isn’t backing down from Bourbon here tonight, he knows he’s giving up a hundred pounds and a lot of reach!
BG: Bobby still hasn’t been taken off his feet though!
Bobby looks back into the ring at Cent, slamming his hands onto the ring apron itself in frustration. Cent runs in and hits a basement dropkick to Bourbon, sending him back to the barricade! Cent rushes back off the opposing ropes, and soars over the top rope with a tope con hilo! Bourbon catches Cent in a bear hug! Cent continues to fight with rapid fire rights to Bobby’s skull as he holds Cent! The referee beckons for both men to get back into the ring! Bobby charges the ring apron, plastering Cent against it, before spinning and hitting a bear hug slam onto the floor!
BG: Wow, Cent was flattened with that one!
JC: Bourbon might have hit the home run ball with that move, but Cent’s been taking Bourbon to task!
The referee warns Bobby to reenter the ring and begins his count!
1…
Bobby stands up from the floor, looking down at Cent.
2…
Bobby rolls back into the ring and raises his fist triumphantly to a chorus of boos from the crowd.
3…
Cent begins to stir on the floor outside!
4…
Cent props himself up on the barricade as Bobby watches on.
5…
Cent turns and looks up at Bobby in defiance.
6…
Bobby spits at Cent, hitting him in the eye with a wad of saliva!
7…
Cent wipes his face clean and is enraged!
8…
Cent points at Bobby as Bobby waves for him to get back into the ring!
9…
Cent charges and rolls into the ring, but is immediately met with a stomp from Bourbon! Another stomp from Bourbon! Bobby brings Cent up to his feet and sends him into the ropes! Bobby crouches…
SHORYUKEN!
Bobby throws the massive roundhouse uppercut, but Cent sidesteps it and hits the ropes again! He comes back with a V-Trigger to Bobby, sending him to the mat! Cent with the cover!
1…
2…
Bobby kicks out with authority!
Both men scramble to their feet, and Cent hits a standing side kick to Bobby!
Bobby returns with an overhand right!
Cent with another kick to Bobby’s midsection, and Cent plants Bobby with a DDT!
Cent with another cover!
1…
2…
Bobby kicks out again!
JC: Bourbon is struggling to keep pace with the speed and tenacity of Centurion!
BG: We’re watching Cent turn back the clock tonight!
Cent quickly transitions into an armbar! He wrenches back on the hold!
Bobby tries to fight out of it, but Cent has locked in the hold expertly!
The referee checks on Bobby to see if he's going to give up as Cent adds more torque!
Suddenly, from the crowd, we hear an uproar!
Corey Black and Holden Payne are continuing to brawl!
JC: Holy macaroni!
BG: I can't believe it! These two men have been fighting the entire time for the Xtreme Championship!
JC: This is a first, Brody, we have to call both matches!
The distraction allowed Bobby to roll over and get atop Cent, who still has the arm bar locked in!
Payne slams Black’s head into a handrail, sending him tumbling down the concrete arena stairs in the seats!
Bobby hoists Cent up, and into a torture rack! Flatiron onto Cent!
Payne stalks Black, and is slugged in the gut when he approaches him!
Bobby rotates his shoulder, the damage from the armbar seeming to have taken it’s toll!
Black grabs Payne with a head hold and hurls him down the arena stairs!
Bobby looks down at Cent and climbs to the top rope!
Black his the Sacrifice to Mimir onto Payne on the lower concourse, following up with a pin!
Bobby lands a Flying Circus onto Cent, and follows up with a pin!
1…
1…
2…
2…
Payne and Cent kick out in stereo!
Black brings Payne to his feet and marches him back to the ringside area!
Bobby looks up at the referee, arguing the count was too slow!
Black goes to slam Payne’s head into the ring barricade, but Payne blocks!
Payne grabs Black and marches him towards a wall of electrical equipment!
Bobby lifts Cent up to his feet and places him in the corner!
Payne and Black brawl by the electrical equipment!
Black finds another heavy duty equipment case and rolls it at Payne!
Bobby rushes into the corner and hits Cent with a body avalanche!
JC: This is one of the wildest nights in Warfare history, Brody!
BG: AND WE’RE HERE FOR IT!
Payne dodges the case, which slams into the wall of cables and controls! Sparks fly out of it nonstop as the audio from the announce team drops!
Bobby pulls Cent from the corner!
Bobby whips Centurion into the ropes. He rebounds and ducks under a clothesline attempt, bouncing off the opposite ropes and hitting Bobby with a Bloody Symphony. Bobby staggers back, and Centurion follows up with a Saito Suplex. Centurion hurries in for the cover.
1!
2!!
THR—Bobby kicks out just in time!
As Bobby shakes the cobwebs, Centurion lines himself up. He runs in, aiming for another Bloody Symphony, but Bobby springs to his feet at the last second grabbing Centurion up and slamming him to the mat with a Pop-up Spinebuster.
Bobby plays to the fans as Cent writhes on the mat, but suddenly, the X-tron flickers to life, and Michael Graves' furious face fills the screen.
Graves: "Duke, you piece of shit! You banned me and Pussyfoot from the arena, and now Pussyfoot is dead because of you! I told you what would happen if you didn't let us on the show, but you didn’t listen!"
The action in the ring pauses as everyone’s attention shifts to the X-tron.
Graves: "I warned you, Duke. If we weren't booked, I’d Gravy all over Warfare! You brought this on yourself!"
Graves holds up a thick black cable and, with a sinister grin—
Graves: "See ya later, fa-
!!!"
Graves slices the cable with a knife and the screen immediately goes black.
*Approximately three-minutes pass.
When the power comes back up, Corey Black and Holden Payne are in the ring, along with Centurion and Bobby Bourbon! Whatever interference has gone down has completely jacked up the audio feed, and we hear the Latin announce team, Julian Ceasar and Bas Garbonzo!
JC: In omnibus annis nostris Latine clamare ad fans of XWF hoc numquam vidimus, Bas!
BG: Haec magis historica quam lingua loquimur!
Cent and Bobby rush one another as Black and Payne rush one another!
Cent and Bobby begin exchanging blows as Black and Payne tie up, weary from the battle they’ve endured all night!
Cent and Bobby collide with Black and Payne!
Bobby shoves Cent aside and looks over, grabbing both Black and Payne by the throats!
Black and Payne both try to fight out of the twin chokeholds!
Cent takes advantage and rolls Bobby up!
1…
2…
Black begins to stomp on Bobby, breaking the pin!
Cent scrambles to his feet and goes face to face with Black for ruining his pin!
JC: Haec est pura LICENTIA hic in Denver!
BG: Imo, Iuliane, haec est Agone!
Cent argues with Black, and both men shove off of one another! Cent with a dropkick to Black!
Black moves out of the way, and Cent catches Payne with the dropkick!
Black laughs at the happening, but is caught with a low blow from behind by Bobby!
The referees look baffled and consult their XWF rulebooks!
They’ll allow all of this!
Cent turns and hooks Black for a vertical suplex, planting him into the mat!
Payne catches Cent after the suplex, and sets up for a Russian leg sweep!
Bobby rushes in to hit Cent, but Cent rolls out of Payne’s grasp! Bobby collides with Payne with a huge shoulder tackle!
Cent turns and steps into a boot to the gut from Black!
FOR WHOM THE BELL TOLLS!
Cent is splattered on the mat!
Bobby immediately grabs Black by the throat, and then grabs Payne by the throat!
Bobby lifts both men up and chokeslams both to the outside!
Black lands with his arm barely across Payne’s chest!
1…
2…
3!
WINNER - COREY BLACK
Still XWF Xtreme Champion
|
JC: Una par plena est, sed altera manet!
BG: Bobbius Borbonius felix esse non potest ut technice adiuverit Corey Black retineat!
Bobby turns to see Centurion stirring after the huge facebuster he just ate from Black.
Bobby stoops and grabs Centurion by the cranium, and places it between his massive thighs.
JC: Centurio hic laborat, Corey Black eum cum ingenti facebuster conglutinat et Bobby commodum spectat!
BG: Aliquando vita non est pulchra, fortasse Centurion debet eam cum Corey Black vel Holden Payne.
Bobby hoists Centurion up, and plants him with a sit-out Bobbybomb!
1…
2…
3!!
Bobby pushes Cent off of him and slowly stands, insisting the referee raise his hand in victory. The audio returns to normal. Corey Black is seen slowly walking back up the ramp and holding his Xtreme Championship high while giving Bobby the middle finger.
JC: I can’t believe what we just saw here tonight!
BG: Believe it, Jacuinde, because it’s stranger than fiction!
JC: You know, I've only been on Warfare since January. I was on Madness before that and a fan for more than a decade even before that. Brody, this night still isn't over but I'm confident in saying that tonight might be the greatest Warfare of all time.
BG: I'd be remiss if I didn't agree, Jacuinde. With everything we've seen and what's yet to come on this broadcast, it has been a wildly entertaining night that the XWF has brought forth.
JC: Any credit to the new Executive Director?
BG: Nope.
JC: Stay with us.
Warfare resumes and the cameras are following Micheal Graves as he sneaks around backstage in the Ball Arena wearing a yellow STAFF shirt.
JC: We're back here on Warfare and it would appear that Micheal Graves has found a way inside the arena.
BG: Obviously he's a staff member, Jacuinde! It says so right on his shirt!
Graves sneaks quickly through the backstage area, wise to stop and peek around corners. There are dozens of people about, mostly low lever staffers, production assistants and road agents. None of them wise to the fact Graves tried to cut the show earlier on. None of them wise to the fact that Duke has placed a figurative price on his head.
He stays close to the walls trying not to attract any unwanted attention. He turns a corner here, and a corner there finally coming to the locker room areas of the arena. With still no one the wiser, Graves gains confidence before coming to the Executive Director's office. Lightly, he knocks before placing his ear against the door.
Nothing.
Graves opens the door and pokes his head inside.
No one.
Closing the door, Graves continues down the hall. Just ahead, the black curtain separating the production area from the general backstage area. Better known as the Gorilla Position. Approaching quietly, he peels the curtain back just enough that he can see what's going on. Thaddeus Duke stands with his back to him, giving the XWF security team an ear full.
Letting go of the curtain and allowing it to shut, Graves considers what to do next. Going through Gorilla would be a mistake. He'd never make it to the entrance way.
The stands!
Like a lightbulb going off, Graves thinks he can get to the ring via using the stands. He turns to head in that direction but runs right into a mountain of a man akin to a camp counselor walking right into Jason Voorhees.
JC: Welp. You've done it now, Graves!
Seemingly resigned to his fate, Graves slumps his head as Big Cyrus Braddock, Thaddeus Duke's Head of Security grabs Graves by his throat and slams him into the wall. Graves breaks free and tries to retreat but trips over an electrical cord and stumbles into the craft services area. Cy Braddock pulls Graves to his feet and kicks him in the ribs to double him over.
Lift.
Flip.
BOOM!
JC: The Lion's Justice! From Cyrus Braddock to Micheal Graves, and that man is out!
BG: This is a misuse of power, Jacuinde! Mr. Graves only wanted to be treated fairly and with respect and the Executive Director couldn't be bothered!
Braddock looks down at his handy work. Graves lies flat in the rubble of the table with salads and donuts and crab cakes all over him. Thaddeus Duke enters the picture beside Braddock.
You know what to do, he says to Cy.
With nothing else needing said, Braddock grabs Graves by his ankle and drags his unconscious body back through the arena with remnants of food mucking up the floor.
Moments later...
JC: Kind of a fitting but unceremonious end to Micheal Graves exploits tonight on Warfare!
BG: Drunk with power, Jacuinde. DRUNK WITH POWER!
JC: And you're still an idiot. Universe, the main event is NEXT on Warfare!
JC: Folks, thank you for tuning in to watch the main event! Let me assure you that you are in for a treat tonight!
BG: Absolutely, Jayce! It’s not every show that we are graced with the presence of the TOP GUY! Of the STAR of the show!
JC: I don’t know if Sebastian Everett-Bryce would welcome these monikers, but it is a treat watching the Universal champion compete in the ring!
BG: Oh shut up, Jayce! I was talking about the NICKLEMAN! He’s BACK and he’s ready to claim his throne!
RA: His opponent! From Chelsea, England weighing 238 pounds... he is the REIGNING! UNDISUPTED! XWF UNIVERSALLL CHAMPION! SEBASTIAN EVERETTTTTTTT-BRYYYYYYCE!
The lights in the arena dip to black in time with the sirens and beat to the opening of Sweatpants (BattleTapes Remix) by Childish Gambino, the lights then beginning to flash, alternating left and right onto the ramp. In time, the letters "S", "E", "B", and then "Empire" flash one at a time on the big screen until the lights stop flashing as the lyrics hit.
"She askin' “Why you say that?!”
The beat drops and the lights flash on the rampway again. As they do, the screen illuminates with "SEB" and then "EMPIRE" flashing on the screen.
"Rich kid asshole, paint me as a villain"
Sebastian Everett-Bryce flings his arms wide, staring up with his head covered by the hood of his jacket. He stands in the middle of the ramp, the lights beating down on him, before looking out at the crowd. He wears a long jacket with the hood pulled up over his head, zipped to the waist. The jacket, which is cut away at the bottom and only runs down the back of his legs, is patterned with an elongated Union Flag, but it’s in black and white and appears to be cracked and broken. His tights are short, with the initials SEB emblazoned upon the front.
JC: Sebastian Everett-Bryce! In record time! Has climbed to the top of the XWF landscape! He’s beaten truly elite level competition! Some of the best to ever run the ropes of an XWF ring to get here, Brody!
BG: Oh shut it, Jayce! He’s a primadonna pretty boy who hasn’t earned his spot on the roster, let alone his spot as Universal champion!
The lights lift, and SEB makes his way to the ring, stretching his neck from side to side as he walks, his eyes focused on the ring. He climbs up the steps and steps through the ropes before standing in the middle of the ring.
"I'm winnin', yeah, yeah, I'm winnin' (What?)
Rich kid, asshole, paint me as a villain"
He extends his arms once more before pulling back his hood and removing his jacket to reveal the back of his tights which read “S.E.B”
"Don't be mad cause I'm doing me better than you doing you
Better than you doing you, fuck it, what you gon' do? (What?!)"
He flashes his arms out to a side, a satisfied and somewhat sneery grin upon his face, he holds the position for a moment, to allow the crowd to take pictures, before moving towards his corner.
JC: Despite my broadcast colleague's insistence to the contrary, SEB has rapidly climbed the ranks of the XWF and now stands atop the heap. And he’s got the hardware to show for it! He IS the reigning Universal champion!
BG: Yeah, yeah, WHATEVER! Call me when Everett-Bryce beats an XWF Legend!
JC: SEB beat Doctor Louis D’Ville as the final elimination at Free-For-All!
BG: …Well, call me, when he beats someone who BLEEDS XWF. Who is TRULY XWF!
JC: He beat ‘Notorious’ Ned Kaye to win the Uni, Goodman!
BG: …
JC: Are you finished?
BG: I’m thinking, I’m thinking!
As Everett-Bryce removes his entrance attire, Charlie Nickles stands in the corner, chomping at the bit to take a bite out of the Universal champion!
BG: HERE’S what I’m talking about Jayce! Charlie Nickles! THE Longest-reigning Television champion in XWF History! An absolute LEGEND at the mental aspect of wrestling! A man who has come INCHES close to the Universal title on multiple occasions!
JC: He sure loves making challenges, Brody! And you’re right! He’s come close! But he’s never won the Universal Title!
BG: And that’s exactly why Nickles is back, Jayce! He smells blood in the water! He sees an easy fleece! He’s looking at these soft boy PRETENDER, barely gripping the Universal Title in his feeble little mits and he sees a prize RIPE for the plucking!
JC: Well, tonight’s match is non-title! But, I can’t deny if Nickles can pull off the upset over Everett-Bryce, that would go a long way to securing Nickles yet another shot at the Uni.
BG: Pfff, upset?!? You mean, SURE THING! Nickles is about to RUIN SEB!
The two meet center of the ring.
Nickles is wildly jaw-jacking, pointing at the belt in SEB’s corner and making motions around his waist. Making it clear that that’s the Nickleman’s belt, SEB’s just the unlucky guy in his way to getting it.
SEB is silent and focused.
The official signals to the timekeeper!
DING DING!
Sebastian Everett-Bryce
- vs -
Charlie Nickles
-Non-Title Match-
|
The moment the bell rings, the Nickleman executes a side roll!
SEB… remains exactly where he is, standing on his feet, dead center of the ring.
Charlie grapevines his feet to charge the Universal champion from the side!
SEB casually rotates his stance to meet Nickles…
And the Nickleman executes a backwards roll to avoid Everett-Bryce’s grasp!
BG: Charlie Nickles has never been the nimblest guy in the ring! But, clearly in his time away, he’s put in a little time on the treadmill! He’s looking downright zippy out there!
JC: He’s looking scared to even get in SEB’s strike radius is what the Nickleman looks like! The Universal champion just shifted his stance and Nickles backward rolls onto his feet!
Nickels rolls back onto his feet, dukes raised!
Everett-Bryce scoffs, beckoning him with both hands to come on, let’s get this started already.
…Nickles doesn’t move. He hops from one foot to the other, but stays at a safe distance.
Everett-Bryce takes a step forward…
AND NICKLES!
…
Immediately hits the mat and rolls backwards out of the ring to the padded concrete outside.
SEB rolls his eyes as the crowd boos the Nickleman’s delay tactics!
BG: The Nickleman has been known to frustrate his opponents! Little bit of pre-match headgames, Jayce?
JC: All it’s doing is pissing this crowd off, Brody! Nickles asked for this match! Why the Hell would he challenge SEB, then pussyfoot around in front of a sold-out crowd?
SEB raises a finger to the crowd… Their boos hush…
SEB walks to the center of the ring.
And gets on his hands and knees.
Nickels looks on curiously from the outside as Everett-Bryce waves his opponent in impatiently.
JC: SEB offering his opponent an early advantage if it means he’ll actually get in the ring and fight!
BG: This could be a huge tactical miscalculation! Charlie Nickles has won a lot of matches, building momentum off a single strike! That sadist loves to inflict pain! And once he starts, he just can’t stop!
Nickles rolls under the bottom rope, as Everett-Bryce slams his fists against the mat, like, C’MON!
Nickles walks around Everett-Bryce’s back… As Everett-Bryce continues coaxing him to strike.
Nickles even waves his arm behind the Uni champ to check his visibility from Charlie’s position in the ring.
BG: Charlie taking every precaution before striking to make sure this opportunity will allow him to inflict maximum damage!
All at once, Nickles charges! Aiming a kick right to the back of Everett-Bryce’s head!
…When Nickles charges, Everett-Bryce’s muscles tense, as if changing gear…
Nickles lifts his boot!
… But Everett-Bryce slips under it with perfect timing!
BG: Holy moley! Does Everett-Bryce actually have eyes in the back of his head?
Charlie clumsily bounces front-first off the ropes… Turning around…
As SEB leaps into action, like a panther off the mat, grabbing Nickles by the leg and DRAGON-SCREWING HIM TO THE GROUND!
JC: Nickles is grounded and SEB has his opponent’s leg in his hands! This is NO MAN’S LAND for Charlie Nickles!
With technical perfection, SEB shifts his stance to drag Nickles backwards to the center of the ring!
And launches into the KING’S ROAD!
Everett-Bryce twists Charlie Nickles’s leg into a pretzel!
Bending it until it might break!
The crowd rises to its feet, applauding the masterful technique of the Universal Champion!
Everett-Bryce perfectly torques the ain receptors of Charlie Nickles, inflicting maximum agony on the Nickleman!
Nickles howls in agony!
BG: Uh… okay! Things look bad for Charlie Nickles!
JC: I’ll say!
BG: But! There’s one thing NIckles has over every other wrestler in XWF History… And that’s pain tolera-
NICKLES TAPS OUT!
| WINNER - SEBASTIAN EVERETT-BRYCE |
BG: OH COME ON!
JC: Charlie came! Charlie saw! Charlie tapped quickly!
As Seb celebrates his victory with the adoring masses, Charlie starts to get to his feet while clutching his leg and calf. Seb's music fades out and Nickles is clearly jacking his jaw.
SMACK!
JC: Empire kick!
BG: Everett-Bryce is a sore ass winner, Jacuinde! What'd Charlie Nickles do to deserve this kind of treatment!?
The crowd pops and Charlie's big ass tumbles through the ropes and down to the floor.
As Sebastian begins to celebrate his victory, You’re Dead begins to play throughout the arena.
JC: Oh no, Seb, get out of there!
BG: Nickles better leave too, no love lost after being unsanctimoniously ousted from B.O.B.!
Bobby Bourbon and Thunder Knuckles slide into the ring under the bottom ropes after sneaking in through the crowd!
Seb turns and stares them both down!
TK cranks his neck, sneering at Seb, as Bobby just stares malevolently.
JC: These vultures, these parasites, these absolute heathens!
BG: Them No Good Bastards!
TK and Bobby rush Seb, and start laying forearms into him. Seb tries to fight back, but the numbers are just too much for him as he begins to succumb. The Universal champion drops to a knee. Thunder Knuckles picks him back up and whips him into the corner before Bobby whips TK into the same corner causing TK to follow him in with a vicious knee strike.
TK backs off as Bobby Bourbon comes rushing in with a devastating lariat. This time, Bobby backs off allowing TK to deliver another knee lift. TK backs off yet again and Seb staggers from the corner and eats a massive back elbow from Bobby Bourbon.
JC: Deadly Sins from Them No Good Bastards!
BG: It seems like Sebastian Everett-Bryce is everyone's favorite target tonight!
JC: When you wear the Universal Championship, you're never safe!
Still, the champion refuses to go down. Battered and abused, Seb Bryce staggers from the corner where Bobby Bourbon grabs him in a front facelock.
JC: Oh boy!
BG: Do it boys!
Bourbon lifts the Universal Champion into a hanging vertical suplex as Thunder Knuckles runs to the ropes. On the rebound...
Rainbow Laser Death Sequence!
Bobby rolls out of the ring and grabs a steel chair from ringside, pushing aside the timekeeper as he does! Bobby slides the chair into the ring, and TK opens it slightly, placing Seb’s ankle into the folding part!
JC: They’re going to break his ankle!
BG: Thunder Knuckles and Bobby Bourbon look to be sending a message!
Suddenly... The crowd pops...
JC: It's Corey Black!
BG: But what kind of shape is he in!?
The Xtreme Champion comes rushing out from backstage with his title in one hand and a barbed wire covered steel chair in the other! After tossing the Xtreme title, Black hits the ring and swings wildly at TK, who avoids the blow and escapes the ring!
Bobby climbs down from the top turnbuckle and joins his partner!
Black, enraged, checks on his Pantheon partner for just a moment before looking out toward the entrance way at the Bastards. Black exits the ring with the chair in hand, chasing after the Bastards.
JC: Corey Black successfully manages to avoid any further damage to the Universal Champion at the hands of Them No Good Bastards!
BG: Sebastian Everett-Bryce will live to fight another day, but tonight, he's exactly where he belongs! Flat on his back in the middle of an XWF ring!
JC: Folks, breaking news! The match is already signed and sealed by the Executive Director! In two weeks on Warfare LIVE from D.C., Them No Good bastards will take on the Pantheon team of the Xtreme Champion Corey Black and the Universal Champion himself, Sebastian Everett-Bryce in a major league main event!
BG: Okay... okay... I'll give it up for Thaddeus Duke this one time because that right there is a main event the entire world would love to see!
As the commentary team reacts to what we've witnessed after the main event, the camera cuts to the center of the ring with a close up of the barely conscious Universal Champion. While Jacuinde and Brody hype next Warfare's main event, the view of Seb Bryce slowly zooms out...
Are You Ready?
In 3...
2...
1...
BG: WHAT!?
JC: Oh my god no!
BG: YESSSS!!
Immediately at the first strums of the Mark Flynn theme, Denver pops, then immediately turns to boos.
JC: NO!
BG: YES!
JC: NO!
BG: YES!
JC: NO!
BG: YES!
JC: NOT LIKE THIS!
BG: YES! JUST LIKE THIS!
Mark Flynn hauls ass to ringside with his 24/7 briefcase in hand. Inside the ring, he looks at the downed Universal Champion and goes to hand the case to the official.
JC: There's no official!
BG: GOD DAMMIT DUKE! GET SOMEONE OUT HERE!
Almost right on cue, an XWF zebra rushes through the curtain and down the aisle to the ring. Upon getting to his feet, he approaches Flynn who hands over the 24/7 case.
BG: What the hell is the hold up!?
JC: The referee has to be sure!
BG: Yes he's fucking sure! Ring that god damn bell!
As Mark Flynn just about loses his shit with the referee, the camera slowly zooms in on Mark Flynn.
BG: HE'S DOING IT!
JC: Mark Flynn stood out here and told the world he was gonna do it right!
BG: He was kidding!
At long last, the official takes the case and holds it high. Mark Flynn turns to face the barely conscious Sebastian Everett-Bryce and...
JC: OH MY GOD!
BG: WHERE'D HE COME FROM!?
JC: SEAN PARKER! WITH THE MASAMUNE DECAPITATION!
Sean Parker's devastating elbow knocks Mark Flynn for a loop. He falls to the mat unconscious.
JC: Mark Flynn! With his clock cleaned!
BG: What about the briefcase!?
JC: My understanding is that the bell never rang to begin the cash in so it nullifies the attempt! Be that as it may, despite the rhetoric Mark Flynn laid out at the start of this program, it's an Anarchy guy that stands tall tonight on Warfare!
With Denver manic with approval, Sean Parker stands tall in the center of the ring between the unconscious Universal Champion and the unconscious 24/7 briefcase holder. He grasps both his Anarchy championship and Everett-Bryce's Universal title, holding both high.
JC: What a night this has been!
BG: I can't believe that son of a bitch ruined Mark Flynn's cash in, Jacuinde! There will be hell to pay in the coming weeks!
JC: We're out of time! We're live again in two weeks!
OOC: First of all, special thanks to the following:
Shaun Hart
Dolly Misty Waters
Sean Parker
Mark Flynn
Bobby Bourbon
& all of you that turned in segments.
Secondly, I may be biased but this is the best Warfare that I can remember. If not ever, but certainly in a very long time. I'd love to take credit for that, but I can't and I won't. Without the efforts of the RPers, the match writers, seg writers and judges, none of this is possible. I was merely the guy that put it all together and greenlit a few incredible ideas that were written brilliantly. I'm not mentioning any names (Bobby Bourbon) but what happened with the Xtreme title match eventually combining with Cent vs Bobby match and managed to fit in Graves' angle all at the same time took what I thought was a really good show and pushed it over the top to an all time great show. That was brilliance combined with tremendous execution.
This one will undoubtedly be hard to top. Teamwork makes the dream work. Thank you all so freakin' much for making this show one for the ages. |
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