We open to a packed WVU Coliseum in Morgantown, West Virginia. The crowd is a sea of MAGAPOWERS signs as Pyro explodes from the stage, and the Anarchy logo flashes over the screen.


Todd: "Welcome to ANARCHY! We're comin' to you LIVE from the WVU Coliseum right here in Morgantown, West Virginia, this place is ROCKIN' tonight!"

Bama T: "Oh, no doubt about it, baby! All the brother-dads and sister-cousins have brought the heat, and we’ve got a show lined up that’s gonna leave ‘em using it to burn couches—or WHATEVER these hillbillies do to celebrate! HA! Regardless of our surroundings, tonight's Anarchy is gonna be one wild night, that’s for damn sure!"

Todd: "We’ve got XTREME RULES, we’ve got a STEEL CAGE, and we’re gonna hear from our new Anarchy Champion, Madison Dyson! Think she'll have something interesting to say?"

Bama T: "Ain’t no question, baby, but first—we’re kickin’ things off with a Revolution Championship match—Matthias Syn, the Syn City Saint, puttin’ his title on the line against Summer Page in an all-out Xtreme Rulez brawl. Summer says she’s ready to unleash that “Spoiled” brat, but Matthias doesn’t seem too scared!"

Todd: "No, he doesn’t—but maybe he should be! Summer Page had a good showing in the Battle Royale last Anarchy, and we got a sneak peak of what we’ll see tonight when she tossed out Centurion right after a team effort. Some might argue that Matthias is actually taking Summer Page too lightly!”

Bama T: “Point—counterpoint—does she have a scissor glove?”

Todd: “...”

Bama T: “Xtreme rules, baby—I’m just sayin’!”

Todd: “After that, we got a Fatal Four-Way with Mastermind, Marisol Vilaro, Razor Blade, and Cameron Parker all going at it in an effort to find some solid footing."

Bama T: “Cameron Parker and his mentor, All Might have both gone radio silent in recent weeks. Perhaps hard at work trying to push himself to the next level. Mastermind is in a foul mood because he’s not in a singles match–something that’s been a bit of a sticking point with him since his return. Marisol Vilaro is looking to make good on her debut mulligan—”

Todd: “Debut mulligan? You don’t get a mulligan on your debut!”

Bama T: “Sure you do, baby—and I think Marisol Vilaro is going to make-good on the opportunity!”

Todd: “What about ‘The American Nightmare’?”

Bama T: “Oh, baby! He’s just happy to be here in the ring and not backstage popping his partner's bAcne, baby!”

Todd: “That’s nasty!”

Bama T: "Maybe for you, but if you’re into the nasty stuff, like me—we got ourselves an XTREME RULES—Falls Count Anywhere triple threat with Centurion, Misty Waters, and John Black! There ain't no place in this arena safe tonight, lemme tell ya that, baby!"

Todd: “No lies spoken there! But after that, it’s the one everyone’s talkin' about, our MAIN EVENT—Mr. Oz taking on Michael Graves inside a STEEL CAGE! Last week, Graves took shots at Oz and left him furious last Anarchy. You can bet Oz is looking to tear Graves apart piece by piece tonight."

Bama T: "Oh yeah, baby, this one’s gonna be ugly! Gravy’s walkin' into a world of pain tonight, and that cage ain’t gonna do nothin' but lock 'em in with the monster unleashing it!"

Todd: "And don’t forget, Bama—Tonight we hear from the new Anarchy Champion, Madison Dyson! She  inspired millions around the world last week, and I can't wait to hear what she’s got to say after that crazy title win!"

Bama T: "Madison’s sittin’ on top of the mountain now, and you know she’s got somethin’ to say about what’s next for her reign. I can’t wait to see what that is, baby!"

Todd: "I'd venture to guess that she isn't the only one looking for some retribution against Gravy, or maybe even a shot for Ozwald? Whatever the case, we'll find out tonight, now hold onto your seats! We’ve got an insane night ahead—full of action, chaos, and straight-up ANARCHY!"

Bama T: "AND IT STARTS NOW, BABY!"

MEANWHILE IN JETT STERLING’S OFFICE

Jett Sterling sits at his desk… Looking over paperwork… Shuffling papers…

Atop his desk, in bold XWF Letterhead…

Quote:RELENTLESS → Anarchy matches

Sterling shuffles through paper records of his contracted talents… Looking for the perfect challenger for the Anarchy Title at Relentless.

…When suddenly, from the floor of his office… Green Smoke billows!

His office lights dim… AND FLASH ON-AND-OFF!

”JETT STERLING! PREPARE YOURSELF FOR THE DARKNESS!”

…Sterling across at his office, at the entrance door.

Where ‘THE DARK WARRIOR’ MICHEAL GRAVES!

…Is flicking his light switch on and off…

MENACINGLY!

Sterling reaches out with his foot and kicks Graves’s green smoke pellet ball on the floor back out into the hallway, before turning back to his paperwork.

“I’m busy, Graves. If you’re here for catering leftovers… Our deal was you can pick it out of the trash and NOT before then…”

“I’m NOT here for Catering Leftovers! TO ME, MY STUDENTS OF GRAVY!”

”MISS FURRY!”

Sterling’s office closet swings open, as a bearded woman dressed like Cat-Woman, with large animal paws, forward-somersaults out!

”Me-OW!”

“PETER PARKOR!!”

Suddenly, the entire ceiling air-duct COLLAPSES!

A thin teenage kid in red-and-blue tights lands HEADFIRST on the ground!

…Blood begins to pool under his skull.

…

”MICHEAL GRAVES!”

The Dark Warrior steps out of the room…

…

Then baseball slides back in through Jett’s door, dynamically leaping back to his feet with a JUMP KICK!

”Me-OW!”

”Hey! That’s MY catchphrase!”

”AS MY STUDENT, ALL YOUR CATCHPHRASES ARE *MY* INTELLECTUAL PROPERTY!”

Miss Furry HISSES at Gravy! Gravy hisses right back!

…

”And finally! The newest addition to the Graves class…”

”MARK FLYNN!”

…

Flynn slides through the door, gently closing it behind him.

…

Flynn clears his throat.

”Meow.”

Jett was ignoring this elaborate team entrance… Until Flynn walked in. Sterling points at the door.

“Flynn, GET OUT! NOW!”

Flynn raises a hand. ”Cool your jets, JETT! Do you really wanna talk that way to your NEWEST ACQUISITION ON ANARCHY?!?”

…Jett’s teeth grit furiously. “What are you talking about, Flynn? I would NEVER allow your name on a Thursday Night contract.”

Flynn grins, like a card shark with pocket aces… ”Well…” Flynn snaps his fingers.

…

……

Flynn side-eyes Graves… Unfortunately, Graves is staring off into space because the conversation is not currently about him.

Flynn give his side an elbow.

”Hmm?”

”Mieky? The… contract?”

Gravy’s eyes widen! ”The one for the Anarchy Title!?! My secret ace-in-the-hole, signed by Vinnie Lane himself! HOW WOULD YOU KNOW ABOUT THAT?!?”

…

Flynn exhales. ”Noooooo.” Flynn tries to patiently shake his head… ”My *student* contract.”

…Graves nods. ”OH THAT ONE. RIGHT, YEAH, TOTALLY.” Gravy digs around in his pocket…

Before fishing out…



Flynn grins, snatching it out of Graves’s hand, before slamming it down on Sterling’s desk.

”THERE! HAHA! I AM OFFICIALLY SIGNED TO ANARCHY!”

”As a Student of Gravy!” Graves looks as smarmy as Flynn. ”How are you gonna stop the ascent of the DARK WARRIOR, now that he includes among his underlings… Mark Flynn! You Dummy!” Graves also slides other documents… including Miss Furry’s and Peter Parkor’s contracts from his back pockets onto Sterling’s desk…

…Flynn side-eyes Graves, sneering at his scheme being co-signed…

…Jett smiles, looking down at the slipshod certificates.

“Ahhhhhh, woooooooow.” Sterling picks up the slip of paper, ooohing and ahhhing as if impressed. “I seeeeeee. Graves must’ve let you in on our deal that any student of his can be on the Anarchy roster…”

Flynn nods, grinning ear-to-ear as Graves wrings his hands fiendishly…

“...Pending my approval, of course.”

…

Flynn’s eye twitches.

“...Excuse me?”

Sterling sits back in his chair, before grabbing a pen from his desk.

“Yep.” As he grabs the ‘Peter Parkor’ contract… Signs in and stamps it. “I mean, I AM the General Manager of Anarchy. It’s only natural…” Sterling grabs the ‘Miss Furry’ contract… Signs it, stamps it. “That I would retain a level of oversight over who enters my employ…”

Sterling slides Flynn’s contract to the side… As he finishes signing and stamping the last document without looking at it, is how little he cares….

…

Sterling then takes Flynn’s certificate.

…

…And riiiiiiiiiiips it in half.

Then into quarters.

Eighths.

…Then takes those scraps of paper… And drops them into his company shredder.

Sterling looks up at Flynn, who is fuming.

“Flynn. I’ve said it before… And I’ll say it again.”

“There is no way.”

“None.”

“Zero.”

“Zilch.”

“Nada.”

“Bupkiss.”

“Goose-egg.”

“ABSOLUTELY NO GODDAMN WAY.” Sterling shoves a finger under Flynn’s face.

“That the name ‘MARK FLYNN’ will EVER… EVEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEER… be signed to Anarchy while I have ANYTHING TO SAY ABOUT IT.”

…Flynn actually begins to salivate… His eyes are daggers… His lungs prepare to unleash the fury of a thousand f-bombs.

”Sterling, I am going to RIP OUT YOUR LU-”

”HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Suddenly, Graves is cackling like a maniac…

…Both Flynn and Sterling side-eye the Dark Warrior like they almost forgot he was there.

“The hell are you laughing about?”

”THE DARK WARRIOR’S GAMBIT HAS PAID OFF!” Graves tosses another smoke pellet ball to the ground!

And before the smokescreen actually finishes deploying, Graves is already running out of the room!

…

‘Miss Furry’ runs out as well.

…

Flynn exhales… The moment for a screaming match gone.

Instead, he drags the still-unconscious Peter Parkor out of the room by his legs…

…

Sterling looks down at his desk, trying to figure out what Graves was laughing about…

Sterling signed Peter Parkor’s contract…

Miss Furry’s contract…

…

……

And Micheal Graves’ contract…

For an Anarchy Title match… Already signed by ‘Loverboy’ Vinnie Lane.

Now signed by Anarchy GM, Jett Sterling.

…

Sterling pinches his brow, frustrated by this blunder.

“I can’t believe MICHEAL GRAVES got me…”

…

Jett shrugs. “Ah well. Still better than Flynn!”

Sterling shoves the work he’d been doing, calculating the #1 contender for the Anarchy Title, off his desk.

Syn City Saint MATTHIAS SYN© - vs - 'SPOILED' SUMMER PAGE XTREME RULEZ!

TODD: What a way to kick off Anarchy this week, Bama!

BAMA T: Hats off to the great Jetter Sterling, baby! Xtreme Rules, Championship gold on the line, I don’t know how this could get any better!


The opening beats of "S&M" by Rihanna hit the speakers, and the crowd erupts into cheers as Summer Page struts down the aisle with a confident smirk.

BAMA T: "OH BABY! THIS JUST GOT BETTER!"

Summer reaches ringside and slowly makes her way up the ring stairs, pausing to soak in the crowd's energy. She stands on the apron, glancing out at the fans before raising her arms wide, causing their cheers to grow even louder. With a confidence, she motions for the referee to hold the bottom and middle ropes before she enters. Once inside, Summer heads to the nearest corner, climbing up to the middle turnbuckle and soaking in the adoration as she strikes a pose for the crowd.


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.

TODD: Here’s our new Revolution Champion! A man who picked up the championship in a thrilling win over JB two weeks ago. Syn has called his opponent tight vacant, boring, and a trust fund baby

BAMA T: OH BABY! YOU KNOW HE MEANS IT TOO—LOOK AT THE FIRE IN HIS EYES!

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 awaiting his opponent.

The bell rings, kicking off the Xtreme Rules match!

Summer Page and Matthias Syn circle each other cautiously, eyes locked, knowing that anything goes in this brutal encounter. Matthias strikes first with a sudden superkick, but Summer ducks, countering with a snap DDT, driving Matthias’s head into the mat.

TODD: WHOA! All of that fire in Syn’s eyes might’ve just been extinguished!

Matthias rolls away, rubbing his head, and the fans cheer for Summer.

She quickly slides out of the ring and grabs a steel chair. Matthias gets to his feet, and she returns and  hurls the chair at him, but he ducks, and the chair clatters to the mat.

Matthias charges at her with a single knee face breaker, stunning her momentarily. He follows up with a German suplex, hurling Summer across the ring and onto the chair with a sickening thud.

BAMA T: Don’t speak so soon baby, Syn has made a nice recovery here


Summer groans in pain but stands up, shaking off the impact while Syn seems to take his foot off the gas and looks down on her in a pitiful way. She rolls out of the ring and pulls a kendo stick from under the apron.

Matthias follows her outside, but Summer swings the kendo stick, cracking it across his ribs. Matthias winces in pain, and Summer capitalizes, whipping him into the steel steps.

The crash echoes through the arena, and the crowd roars in approval.

Matthias, dazed, tries to stand, but Summer nails him with a tilt-a-whirl into a Russian leg sweep, driving him back into the steel steps. She quickly transitions into a top rope chinlock, using the barricade for leverage to wear down the larger opponent. Matthias struggles but powers out, slamming Summer into the concrete floor with a backside driver.

TODD: This match is rolling at a frantic pace here, Bama. Both Syn and Page utilizing the xtreme stipulation to their advantages

Both wrestlers struggle to get to their feet, and Matthias grabs a nearby trash can, smashing it over Summer’s head!

The attack is sickening, but Summer is still standing. Out on her feet, and wobbling, Syn smashes the trashcan over her skull again, toppling her to the floor.

Syn steps back and, grinning and gives Summer a moment to stand up. She wobbles to his feet and Syn charges her!  He hits a running somersault neckbreaker, flipping Summer hard onto the unforgiving floor. He attempts the SYNTheory!

BAMA T: The Revolution champ ready to put this match away here!
But Summer wriggles free and cracks Syn in the nose with an elbow!

She grabs for a nearby table. She sets it up and hits the "Golden Rule" Reverse Neckbreaker, leaving Matthias gripping his neck in pain.

PAGE COVERS!!!!


1!







2!!







NOOOO!!!!!


Syn just barely gets an arm up, but Summer recovers quickly and kicks the champion in the head! She pulls another table from under the ring and sets it up, rolling Syn on top and punching him in the head a few more times before turning away and heading to the ring.

BAMA T: Summer Page is turning up the heat here, baby!!

TODD: Summer Page has turned the tides here in this match, and now she’s looking for something big!

Summer ascends the ropes, looking for a BIG move, and launches herself for the “MPME” Most Perfect Moonsault Ever onto Matthias, who’s still lying on the table. But at the last second, Matthias rolls off, and Summer crashes through the table, splinters flying everywhere!

Seizing the opportunity, Matthias clamps on the grapevine STF right on the shattered remains of the table, his larger frame putting immense pressure on the antihero face challenger.

Summer grits her teeth, refusing to tap, and claws her way to the ropes, but there’s no rope break in an Extreme Rules match. Instead, she grabs the broken kendo stick and jabs it into Matthias’s side, forcing him to break the hold.

TODD: Spoiled Summer Page lucky to escape there! I thought she was going to tap!

Syn rolls off, but Page is still badly damaged, and the Revolution champion gets to his feet first. He stomps the challenger, before rolling her under the bottom rope and back into the ring!

Matthias drags her to the center of the ring, looking to lock in the SYNTheory again, but Summer elbows her way out, landing a high knee to Matthias’s face. Staggering him, she grabs a steel chair and nails him with a Chick Kick, driving the chair into Matthias’s skull, sending him down but not out.

Sensing her moment, Summer goes for the "Perfect 10” Figure 8 Leg Lock, but Matthias kicks her in the rear as she turns, throwing her through the ropes. She lands hard on the floor, biding time and catching her breath.

Matthias charges her with a running somersault corkscrew Senton over the top rope, but she sidesteps, sending him crashing into the time keepers table! Smacking the championship belt, the ring bell and everything in between

TODD: This match has been action packed with violence! And at this juncture, I can’t tell who it’s favored more. Matthias Syn laudes himself for being a violent man, but Summer Page has answered the challenge here tonight!

Summer quickly climbs the top rope again, launching a diving crossbody onto Matthias, who’s sprawled over the wreckage of the time keeper's table. The force sends them both crashing to the ground, the debris scattered around them.

The crowd is electric as both wrestlers slowly stir, refusing to stay down.

Summer pulls Matthias back into the ring and, with sheer determination, hits a Shining Wizard to a kneeling Matthias as he reenters, sending him sprawling. She grabs a ladder from under the ring and sets it up in the corner, but Matthias recovers, climbing the ropes for another big move. Before he can act, Summer springs up, catching him with a

TODD:Sweet & Sassy!!!!

The Frankensteiner drives Syn from the top rope, sending the champion crashing into the ladder!

The crowd is on fire! We might be witnessing an upset!

Summer then signals for the finish, lifting Matthias for "Pure Perfection" PerfectPlex. She hooks the leg and lifts-

BUT SOMEHOW ON THE WAY DOWN TO THE MAT, SYN REVERSES INTO A BLOCKBUSTER!


The crowd erupts in disbelief.

Both wrestlers are exhausted, but both sway up to their feet and-


SYNthesi!!!!!

The champ swings for the finish, but Summer counters into Impaler DDT onto a steel chair with perfect execution!

She covers,

1!









2!!









KICKOUT!!!


Both wrestlers lie on the mat, gasping for air, surrounded by wreckage.

Summer gets to her feet first, attempting the Figure 8 Leg Lock once more.

Matthias fights, inching closer and grabbing her hair, breaking her balance. He surprises everyone by pulling her into a

TODD:SYNTheory!

The arm trap triangle choke is locked in tight, with Summer’s face pressed against the broken kendo stick.

Summer struggles, pulling every bit of energy she has left, but the hold is too strong!

She fights valiantly, but her body betrays her. The ref checks her arm…


He raises it once!





It falls!





He raises it a second time!





It hits the mat






He raises it a third time…






BAMA T: SHE’S OUT! SHE’S OUT!







The arm falls limp!



The bell rings and Matthias Syn has retained his XWF Revolution Championship!

WINNER—AND STILL REVOLUTION CHAMPION—MATTHIAS SYN!!!

MASTERMIND - vs - MARISOL VILARO - vs - RAZOR BLADE - vs - CAMERON PARKER FATAL FOURWAY!

A figure is seen walking out from the back wearing a black hooded sweatshirt on. The hood was over his head so he couldnt be seen, and his head was looking down.

He stood in a stance.

As his signature song continues to hit this is my Brutality he takes off his hood to reveal himself to be Mastermind, and he walks to the ring, alone.


The Raising Fighting Spirit polo plays over the speakers and then big screen lights up with the words The Fighting Spirit and then out runs Cameron Parker all hyped up with a smile on his face as he looks out towards the fans and then starts running down the ramp with enthusiasm, giving as many fans as he can a high five before walking up the steel steps then stepping inside of the ring and goes to the left side and climbs up the turnbuckle to raise one finger in the air as he looks out towards the fans and then steps down and walks toward his corner to wait for the match to start.


The sythinzied beat of Shake it Off By Taylor Swift begins to play over the public address system, as the opening lyrics soon begin, as the fans boo and flashes going off, people are waiting for the arrival of the Fitness Queen herself.

I stay out too late
Got nothing in my brain
That's what people say, mm-mm
That's what people say, mm-mm

As a spotlight is on the entrance ramp and the lights dim, first stepping out is none other than the legendary Snarktopus Nessa Wall, who smiles brightly before trash talking the fans as she smiles, before ordering a couple of stage hands to come out they each have a mirror in hand they face the entrance ramp, as soon out from the back steps La Marvillosa herself Marisol Vilaro.

I go on too many dates
But I can't make 'em stay
At least that's what people say, mm-mm
That's what people say, mm-mm

Marisol stops to admire herself in each mirror posing and showing off, what her hard work has given her and mouthing about how she’s the inspiration these out-of-shape people need. After a few moments of posing she brushes right past, giving her manager/mentor a hug before they head off with Nessa leading the way taking the time to give the fans at ringside a hard time for even trying to touch them.

But I keep cruisin'
Can't stop, won't stop movin'
It's like I got this music in my mind
Sayin' it's gonna be alright

Marisol herself takes the time to pose some more showing off her muscle, and trying to sell them on the VilaroFit mission, and how they need it to improve themselves, As the devious duo soon make their way toward the ring side area Nessa soon goes up the ring steps and takes the time to bark orders at the referee, showing him exactly how lower the ropes for herself, and her client, after being lectured by the Ambitchous one, the referee complies doing it exactly as Nessa demanded enters the ring and motions for Marisol to go up the steps, as she climbs up the steps she takes each moment to keep shilling her products, which doesn’t endear her to the fans, as she soon enters the ring under the rope and soon she rudely brushes past the referee as Nessa presents her to the booing fans as she raises her arms high in the air soaking in the boos, and catcalls.

'Cause the players gonna play, play, play, play, play
And the haters gonna hate, hate, hate, hate, hate
Baby, I'm just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake
I shake it off, I shake it off (hoo-hoo-hoo)
Heartbreakers gonna break, break, break, break, break
And the fakers gonna fake, fake, fake, fake, fake
Baby, I'm just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake
I shake it off, I shake it off (hoo-hoo-hoo)

Marisol then does a series of poses once again before turning around and gracing the other side of the area raising her arms high in the air and then doing a similar series of poses showing off her physique and how in shape she is. While Nessa claps her client before they head into their corner, and Nessa is getting Marisol psyched and going over the game plan as they wait for the opponent to enter.


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 Blake 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

The crowd comes to life as the bell rings, and all four competitors instantly explode into action. Cameron Parker rushes at Razor Blade, throwing wild punches, while Mastermind goes straight for Marisol Vilaro, who quickly ducks under his first attempt to grab her.

Todd: "And we’re off! No waiting around here—this one’s gonna be a brawl for the ages!"

Parker nails Razor with a hurricanrana as he rebounds off of the ropes. On the other side, Marisol counters Mastermind with a quick drop toe hold, followed by three quick push-ups and an explosive jumping elbow to the lower back! She smirks, soaking in the boos from the crowd, but Mastermind springs back to his feet, seemingly unfazed.

Bama T: "Marisol’s already playin’ to the crowd—she better focus, baby!"

Razor’s back up, and Parker runs at him, but Razor catches him with a big spinebuster. Before he can capitalize, Mastermind hits a running bulldog on Marisol and turns his attention to Razor. Razor swings with a big right hand, but Mastermind blocks it and snaps off a German suplex that sends Razor flying across the ring.

Todd: "Mastermind’s in control now.”

Bama T: “Of course he is, baby! He’s MASTERING THEIR MINDS~!”

Marisol, spots an opening and charges at Mastermind, nailing him with the Vilaró Experience, a perfectly executed handspring elbow that rocks him into the corner. She immediately follows it up with a DDT, planting Mastermind headfirst into the mat. She goes for the quick cover, but Cameron Parker flies in with a springboard moonsault from out of nowhere, breaking up the pin before the ref can even start the count!

Bama T: "Parker with the save! This kid’s got heart, baby!"

Parker quickly pulls Marisol up and whips her into the ropes. She ducks a clothesline attempt and nails him with a Enzuguri to the jaw. He stumbles, but before Marisol can press the advantage, Razor Blade’s back in, hitting a devastating big boot to her face! She drops like a sack of bricks as Razor goes for the pin.

Todd: "Razor’s goin' for it!"

ONE!
















But Mastermind’s already there to break it up with a stiff kick to Razor’s skull. Razor stumbles to his feet, but Mastermind isn’t done. He grabs Razor by the waist and sends him flying with another German suplex! Razor bounces off the mat, leaving him open for Marisol, who pounces with a fisherman suplex on Razor, going for the pin again.

Bama T: "Marisol’s trying to steal this one!"

ONE!
































TWO!!




















Parker dives in to break the count with a low dropkick to Marisol’s ribs. He pulls her up, looking for a big move, but Marisol rakes his eyes and sends him crashing into the corner. She steps back, setting up for the Vilaróizer, but before she can execute, Razor grabs her and hurls her over the top rope, sending her to the outside.

Todd: "There goes Marisol! Razor’s cleaning house!"

Razor turns around, but Cameron Parker is waiting. He hits the ropes and connects with the Rising Spirit (Helluva Kick), blasting Razor into the turnbuckles! The crowd pops as Parker drags Razor to the center of the ring and covers him, but Mastermind breaks it up just in time with a stiff elbow to Parker’s head!

Bama T: "Mastermind saves the match again! Nobody’s letting this one slip away, baby!"

Mastermind, not wasting any time, grabs Parker and locks him into the Mind Controller (Boston Crab), wrenching back hard as Parker screams in pain, clawing at the mat. The ref checks on Parker, but while his attention’s on the submission, Marisol Vilaro sneaks back into the ring. She quickly rolls up Razor Blade, hooking both legs for the pin!

Todd: "Wait, Marisol’s got the pin!"

ONE!


























TWO!!


















THR—CAMERON TAPS—EE!!!

The referee, having counted Marisol Vilaro’s pinfall on Razor Blade simultaneously as Cameron Parker tapped out, stands up, visibly confused.

He looks down at Marisol raising her arms in victory and then over to Mastermind releasing Parker and standing triumphantly over him.

Todd: "Wait a second! Did Marisol just pin Razor? Or did Cameron tap out to Mastermind? What just happened?!"

Bama T: "Both of 'em are celebratin’, but only one can win, right?!"

The referee hesitates, looking around the ring. Mastermind is shouting that he made Parker tap, while Marisol is yelling at the ref, insisting she got the three-count. The ref scratches his head, walks over to the timekeeper, and starts explaining the situation.

Todd: "The ref’s as confused as we are! He counted the three for Marisol, but Cameron definitely tapped out to Mastermind!"

Meanwhile, both Mastermind and Marisol approach the referee, getting in his face, arguing their case.

Bama T: "Looks like we got ourselves a situation here, Todd! The ref don’t know what to do, and both of 'em think they’ve won!"

Todd: "This is unusual, but somebody’s gotta be declared the winner!"

After a few moments, the time keeper grabs a microphone and steps into the ring, nervously looking at both competitors as they await the decision. She clears his throat and raises the mic.

Tig O'Bitties: "Uh… ladies and gentlemen… due to simultaneous victories… I hereby declare… Mastermind and Marisol Vilaro as co-winners of this match!"

WINNER—MARISOL VILARO!!!

WINNER—MASTERMIND!!!

The crowd erupts with a mixed reaction as Mastermind and Marisol both look shocked and unhappy with the decision. Mastermind glares at Marisol, while she scoffs, visibly upset that she has to share the spotlight.

Todd: "There you have it! A double victory—Mastermind and Marisol are both declared winners!"

Bama T: "Ain’t nobody happy about it, though! Look at 'em, baby! They both wanted that win all to themselves!"

Marisol shakes her head, mouthing off to the ref before storming out of the ring, while Mastermind stands there, still fuming as he watches her leave.

Todd: "Well, folks, looks like we’ve got a controversial finish tonight! Marisol and Mastermind might be co-winners, but I have a feeling that this rivalry is far from over!"

CENTURION - vs - MISTY WATERS © - vs - JOHN BLACK XTREME RULES - FALLS COUNT ANYWHERE!

The lights in the arena dim, and Centurion’s entrance music, blares through the arena. The crowd roars in approval as Centurion steps out to the stage. He pauses briefly at the top of the ramp, scanning the audience with a slight smirk.

Todd: "Here comes the most solidified veteran of Anarchy, Centurion! With nearly two decades in this business, he’s one of the most Xperienced competitors in the XWF today."

Bama T: "That's right, Todd. He may be getting up there in years, but don’t let that fool you. This man can still go toe-to-toe with the best of 'em, so long as the Ben-Gay isn't in short supply, baby!"

Centurion makes his way down the ramp, acknowledging a few fans but keeping his eyes locked on the ring. He steps between the ropes as the crowd chants his name. Once in the ring, Centurion cracks his neck, warming up as he waits for the match to begin.


We see the X-Tron come to life, and we see "John Black" name shot up with the .38 special, and we see him at the stage in a black and white setting as he is standing there taking in the mixed reactions. 

Bama T: "Here comes the real deal, baby! John Black—he ain't here to make no friends—he's handing out beatdowns!"

Then he walks down to the ramp, and he gives them some high fives.

Todd: "You just know JB's looking to bounce back after dropping the Revolution title to Matthias Syn last Anarchy–and with the Xtreme championship on the line tonight–you just know he’s not going to hold anything back in this match."

JB then he climbs on the steel steps and enters the ring, and he raises his fist in the air as he pounds his chest around the ring as his theme cuts off.


The lights dim, and "Pomp and Circumstance" fills the stadium as Misty Waters appears under the XTron. Wearing a luxurious blue fur robe lined with red and white tassels—Misty looks every bit the star she claims to be. A red bandana keeps her wig in place, and a pair of single-lensed sunglasses cover her eyes. She wastes no time making her way to the entrance ramp, marching with purpose as the crowd showers her with a mixed reaction.

Todd: "Here she comes, the ever-dominant Misty Waters! This woman has been a force to reckon with ever since possessing the body of her granddaughter, Dolly Waters!"

Bama T: "You better believe it, Todd—AND TONIGHT'S NO DIFFERENT! Misty’s got that fierce, relentless energy and strong sense of AMERICAN pride that makes her dangerous in any match, baby!"

She hops onto the apron and points a finger to the sky before stepping through the ropes. In the center of the ring, she begins slowly spinning around and motioning for noise from the crowd. She then climbs the turnbuckle and raises both hands towards the sky, soaking in the energy as her music fades.

DING! DING! DING!

Once the bell rings, John Black immediately makes himself known in the match, charging towards Misty Waters and chucking her over the top rope with a huge clothesline! John Black hollers some harsh words towards Misty as she's flung to the outside of the ring. Centurion, meanwhile, cracks a smile and gives JB a round of golf applause. Unfortunately for Centurion, JB is in no mood to make friends! JB charges towards Centurion next, looking to lay him out just like he did Misty, but Centurion sees it coming! Centy ducks beneath the clothesline before hitting the ropes on the far side of the ring, but as soon as his back touches the ropes, Misty Waters grabs him by the ankles and sends him flat to the mat! Then, she pulls Centurion outside of the ring and starts hammering him with forearms to the face!

As Misty Waters pummels Centurion outside the ring, JB plays to the fans inside the ring. JB gets the fans to their feet chanting and cheering, but Centurion looks around and thinks that the fans are cheering for him! As Misty Waters shoots another forearm towards Centy's head, he works up the strength to block the blow before pushing Misty back against the wall separating the fans from the apron. Centurion then charges straight forward, delivering a tough shoulder chop to Misty along the barrier. He then grabs Misty by her bald scalp before slamming her face straight into the barrier! As Misty falls to the ground, Centurion strikes a pose to the crowd. The crowd goes nuts as the two fan-favorites, Centy and JB, both begin playing to the audience.

Todd: "The champion is down bad now, and these fans can feel it! They're loving this action!"

Bama T: "Waters might be down but she is by no means out, Todd! If these buffoons don't quit their shenanigans, Misty will make them pay for it!"

JB turns around and notices Centurion still playing to the crowd. A metaphorical lightbulb goes off above John's head and he cracks a wicked grin. Hitting the ropes, JB picks up considerable speed as he charges across the ring. Completely unaware, Centurion continues playing to the crowd—and even signs a few autographs in the front row—as John Black dives over the top rope and comes crashing down with a diving elbow drop to the back of Cent's skull! JB and Centurion both fall to the ground, but JB quickly grabs the pen that Centurion was using to sign autographs—and begins viciously stabbing him in the face with it! A mixture of blood and ink squirts out as the pen is completely destroyed after multiple stabbings to Cent's bloodied face.

Todd: "Jesus Christ, John Black! X-treme Rules doesn't mean ANYTHING goes! Have some civility! Think of the children watching at home!"

Bama T: "Getting stabbed in the face by a ballpoint pen is EXACTLY what X-treme Rules means, Todd! John Black knows the ways and means of the X-treme lifestyle better than anyone in the XWF, it's no surprise he's going all out to win the title belt tonight!"

Todd: "But this is too far! Centurion's a legend in this business!"

Bama T: "Was, baby! Centurion WAS a legend in this business, but right now, he's just JB's notepad!"

After the ballpoint pen breaks, John Black wastes no time in delivering vicious fists to Centurion's face. Bits of skin and droplets of inky blood go flying into the front row as JB enacts his gruesome assault. By now the XWF legend is looking bruised and battered, so John Black throws him on his back and decides to go for a pinfall attempt! The crowd begins to chant the count, but the referee inside the ring is taking forever to make his way outside the ring! The referee only begins counting AFTER the crowd has already made their call!

ONE!





















































TWO!!

















































KICKOUT!!!

Bama T: "God damn it, that ref was trying to screw John Black! That was a 3 count, the whole arena counted it out!"

Todd: "It's falls count anywhere, but they only count when the referee is ready to count them!"

Bama T: "This is a damn screwjob!"

John Black slams the ground in frustration before screaming at the referee. The referee raises his hands innocently and apologizes earnestly for the delay, but John Black isn't having any of his BS! JB grabs the ref by the collar of his shirt and begins threatening him with the ass-kicking of a lifetime! Meanwhile, Centurion lays on the ground trying his best to crawl away—but he isn't getting very far!

Todd: "John Black needs to stop harassing the referee, and he needs to focus on winning this match! He isn't far off, but this kind of distraction might catch up with him!"

Bama T: "John Black is just doing gangster shit, Todd! You wouldn't understand! You HAVE to G-check the opps!"

Todd: "I don't even know what any of that means, Bama!"

Eventually, JB relents and releases the referee's collar, albeit with some harsh words. Then JB walks over to Centurion, curbstomping him in the face with no mercy. Once Centurion goes limp, JB picks him up and places his head between his legs—as if he were going for a powerbomb or a pedigree of sorts.

Bama T: "I told you, Todd, JB was just getting started! He's letting those X-treme energies flow through him now!"

Todd: "But wait, Bama—look! It's Misty with a steel chair!"

Sprinting onto the screen, we see Misty Waters suddenly pop into frame before delivering a nasty chair shot to the back of John Black. JB screams in agony as he is forced to let Centurion go. Centurion collapses to the ground as John Black turns around to face his aggressor, only to be met with an unprotected chair shot to the skull! John Black collapses against the ringside barrier, but Misty Waters isn't done with him yet! She delivers THREE MORE brutal chair shots to John Black, hitting him so hard that the chair breaks apart—and all she's left holding are now disconnected chair legs!

Todd: "Oh my GOD, Bama! She just destroyed that chair—and John Black!"

Bama T: "She's the champ for a reason, Todd! Just sit back and watch the wicked way she works!"

Todd: "But Bama, I thought you were rooting for JB?!"

Bama T: "I'm rooting for VIOLENCE, Todd! And this match has been FULL OF IT!"

Misty throws the legs of the chair down onto JB's limp body. She smirks with satisfaction before laying eyes on Centurion, who is slowly trying to crawl up the ringside apron. Misty just walks over to him slowly before grabbing his skull and slamming it onto the side of the ring. Then, she rolls Centurion into the ring before following him in. Centurion pulls himself up to his hands and knees as he begins trying to make his way to the corner—but Misty has other plans for him. Eyeing her prey for a few seconds, Misty finally charges in and delivers a Running Waters punt to the head that knocks Centurion out cold! Misty simply places a foot on Centurion's chest as the referee drops down to count the fall.

ONE!























































TWO!!













































































THREE!!!

Winner and STILL X-treme Champion - Misty Waters!

BAMA T: “It’s that time of the evening folks, when we finally get to hear from our brand new Anarchy champion-Madison Dyson.”

TODD: “She may not be everyone’s favorite, or even ANYONE’s favorite-”

BAMA T: “What do you mean?! Did you hear those pops she was getting when she won?!”

TODD: “Be that as it may, the controversial Madison Dyson is here tonight to address the denizens of Anarchy! We’re live to the ring with Anarchy General Manager Jett Sterling!”

The shot closes in on the ring, where Jett is indeed waiting.

JETT: “I hope you’ve all enjoyed tonight’s show thus far! But now, as promised, we hear from the new Anarchy champion….MADISON DYSON!”

Jett waves a hand at the entrance way with a flourish as Madison’s theme music hits!


Inexplicably, the fans POP for Madison as her music hits….but she doesn’t come out. Jett starts to look a bit concerned. But finally, a robed figure looking every bit like Emperor Palpatine from Star Wars appears on the ramp and starts shuffling their way down to the ring. Only the bottom of this person’s face is revealed, making it difficult to ascertain their identity. The robed figures clomps up the ring steps and gets in the ring. Jett squints at the figure as they approach and take the microphone from him.

The fan’s clamor starts to die down, allowing this person to speak.

????: “Rest assured people of Anarchy, it is I….MADISON DYSON!”

The voice certainly clocks as Madison’s, but she doesn’t remove her hood. Jett shoots her a strange look.

MADISON: “First off, I wish to put you all at ease! Though the attempt on my life has left me scarred and deformed, I assure you my resolve has never been stronger!”

Jett leans into the microphone with a sheepish look.

JETT: “Um, Madison, you were just on Warfare and you looked fine. “

Madison snatches the mic away from his face and Jett scoots back, shrugging his shoulders.

MADISON: “Do you DARE undermine the attempt on my life?!”

Jett shakes his head “no.”

MADISON: “Well so be it! GAZE UPON THE RUINATION OF MY BEAUTIFUL FACE!”

Madison dramatically casts back her hood revealing….

….a large Donald Trump style bandage on her right ear.

MADISON: “THAT BULLET CLIPPED MY EAR, JETT! AND IT WILL NEVER BE THE SAME! EVER!”

Madison scowls at Jett as Jett again sheepishly shrugs his shoulders again, not quite knowing what to say.

MADISON: “Anyway! Yes, I AM your new Anarchy champion. And I’ve got a lot to say. So settle in and open your ears. First of all, on the topic of…MICHAEL GRAVES!”

Pronounced booing from the crowd.

MADISON: “Yeah….yeah. Now, you might all assume that I’m out for blood when it comes to ol’ Gravy. But, well, I’m not!”

Jett looks perplexed, along with many members of the crowd.

MADISON: “Look people, the fact is there is nothing MORE American than taking a potshot on someone you hate in a public venue! No offense, Donnie! The right to bear arms was codified into the U.S. Constitution for a reason! And that reason is so we can snuff out anyone who offends our delicate sensibilities. So, I don’t just acknowledge Michael Graves actions on the last episode of Anarchy….I APPLAUD THEM! U! S! A!  U! S! A!  U! S! A! “

The fans surrender to the siren call of blind nationalism and start chanting right alongside Madison. Meanwhile Jett looks absolutely flabbergasted.

Madison gestures for the crowd to simmer down, and they begin to do so. She clears her throat and starts to speak again.

MADISON: “However! There is one man I have nothing but contempt for! The man who orchestrated the attempt on my life, but was TOO BIG OF A PUSSY to pull the trigger himself! And that man is, of course, MARK FLYNN!”

Raucous, arena shattering boos! Madison again gestures for the crowd to calm themselves.

MADISON: “Mark Flynn, a man who possesses a vagina, inexplicably tried to worm his way into the Anarchy championship battle royale after dogging the Anarchy brand for the better part of a year. This not only makes him a colossal hypocrite, but unassailably stupid. Now, stupid, I can abide. But cowardice? I think not!”

The fans pop again!

MADISON: “Mark, I would have respected you if you were the one to take a pot shot on me. At least that would have showed you had some BALLS. But you handed your dirty work over to Michael Graves like some bitch made DEMOCRAT!

Which brings me to my final point. Namely, I see your dance card for Relentless is open. Well, so is mine! So how about we fix each other’s problem and….”

At this point Jett scrambles to the edge of the ring and frantically calls for another mic. He gets one quickly and wheels back around on Madison.

JETT: “If you’re going to say what I think you’re going to say, just stop right there! Because there is absolutely, 100%, NO WAY I am letting Mark Flynn challenge for the Anarchy Championship!”

Some mild booing from the crowd. Madison looks frustrated.

MADISON: “Come on, Jett! It’s not like you have anyone else lined up for me. I want Mark Flynn’s head on a fucking platter!”

JETT: “Look, I’m sorry! I know you want to get at Mark Flynn. I do! But he’s not even a member of the roster. And besides, it’s a matter of principle. The man has belittled and degraded this show for the past year. There is simply no way I can allow this championship match to happen.”

Some more grumbling from the crowd follows. Madison cants her head, glowering at Jett.

MADISON: “Fine Jett, then WHO the HELL am I facing at Relentless?”

JETT: “Well, I do have an answer for you, Madison. And that answer is….MICHAEL GRAVES!”

The fan response is mixed. Madison’s features sag in disappointment.

MADISON: “Gravy?! SERIOUSLY?! I just told you I don’t have a beef with Graves.”

JETT: “I understand. But he does have an active contract for an Anarchy title match.”

MADISON: “This is bullshit!”

JETT: “I’m sorry you feel that way. But the contract is binding. It will be Madison Dyson versus Michael Graves for the Anarchy Championship at Relentless.”

Madison looks out at the crowd, and then back at Jett.

MADISON: “Whatever, Jett. I’ll get Flynn one way or another. Bank on it. Now hit my music!”

Madison’s theme music hits as she takes her leave from the ring. The shot then cuts back to the announce position.

TODD: “What a bombshell! Madison’s going to face the gunman who tried to kill her, Michael Graves, at Relentless!”

BAMA T: “Yeah, Todd, that may be so. But that’s not what the lady wants. She wants the ringleader behind the plot on her life, Mark Flynn!”

TODD: “And that’s unlikely to happen anytime soon considering how Jett feels about Flynn. Nonetheless we have our Anarchy title match booked and ready to go for the biggest show of the year!”

MR. OZ - vs - Dark Warrior MICHEAL GRAVES STEEL CAGE!

The crowd is buzzing as the steel cage begins lowering over the ring.


The lights dim, and the familiar eerie sounds of Michael Graves’ theme, a chilling metal version of "Come Little Children," echo throughout the arena. Lime green lasers sweep the stage as Graves steps out, his face twisted into a manic grin.

Todd: "Here comes 'The Dark Warrior' himself, Michael Graves! This man is as dangerous as they come, but tonight he faces an unstoppable force in Mr. Oz!"

Bama T: "You better believe it, baby! Graves cost Oz the match last week with that sick AR-15 stunt, and now he's gotta pay the piper in that cage! No escape, baby!"

Todd: “Actually, tonight–ESCAPE IS THE NAME OF THE GAME–if you want to win.”

Graves creeps down the ramp. He tosses his cape aside and steps into the cage, sizing up his surroundings with an unhinged grin.

Suddenly, the lights cut out completely.


A choir stands on stage, in safe spots, as flame begins to erupt from the stage, as Oz walks out. It seems as if Oswald has literally paid for an entire metal orchestra, just to play him to the ring. As the first lick of the guitar hits the air and the drums start off, Oz starts to walk to the ring, dressed in a large white cloak covering his body. However, instead of entering the ring first, he waits. He stands there near the ring floor next to the edge of the ramp. He slowly pulls off the cloak, folds it and then places it on the edge of the ring, next to one of the posts before climbing into the cage and pacing his corner, never taking his eyes off of Micheal Graves

Todd: "There he is, Bama. Mr. Oz. The monster who was shot down by Graves last week… and tonight, he's gonna unleash hell."

Bama T: "This man is pure destruction in human form, baby. Gravy's gonna need a miracle to survive this!"

The bell rings as the cage door slams shut. Graves charges at Oz with reckless abandon, hammering away with haymaker punches to Oz's jaw, but it’s like hitting a brick wall, and Oz barely flinches.

Todd: "Graves starting off strong, but those shots aren’t doing a thing to Oz!"

Graves switches it up, hitting a running spear into Oz’s midsection. Oz takes a step back, but doesn’t go down. Graves, undeterred, follows up with a series of HEAVY-HANDED slaps across Oz's chest, then a backfist—but Oz just smiles.

Bama T: "Oz is loving this, baby! Gravy’s throwing everything he’s got, and it’s doing nothing!"

Desperation creeps in as Graves reaches into his hardcore bag of tricks. He grabs Oz by the neck and pulls him into a fallaway slam, trying to put some distance between them. Graves quickly climbs the cage halfway and leaps off with a double axe handle—only for Oz to catch him mid-air like a ragdoll.

Todd: "Oh no... Oz caught him!"

With almost no effort, Oz hurls Graves across the ring like a sack of potatoes. Graves crashes hard into the cage, his body crumpling to the mat. Oz slowly stalks his prey, his eyes bright with ill intent.

Bama T: "This is turning into a nightmare for Graves, baby. Oz hasn’t even broken a sweat!"

Oz picks up Graves, locking in a bearhug and squeezing the life out of him. Graves howls in pain but refuses to tap. Oz releases the hold only to deliver a massive gorilla press gutbuster, dropping Graves hard onto his knee.

Todd: "Graves is in deep trouble now! Ozwald is just toying with him!"

Graves tries to crawl away, but Oz grabs him by the ankle, yanking him back into the center of the ring. Oz delivers a brutal knee drop to Graves' chest, causing the ring to shake. The crowd winces at the impact.

Bama T: "This is already becoming a straight-up massacre! Oz is dismantling Graves piece by piece, baby!"

Oz lifts Graves once again, setting him up for a devastating delayed vertical suplex, holding him in the air for what seems like an eternity before finally slamming him down with authority. Graves writhes in pain, but he grins through the agony, spitting blood onto the mat.

Todd: "Graves is sick! He’s taking this beating and still asking for more!"

Oz, growing tired of Graves' resilience, drags the battered man to his feet and slams him face-first into the steel cage. The harsh rattle of metal echoes as Graves' face scrapes against the unforgiving steel, but Oz doesn't stop there—he grabs Graves by the back of his neck and drives his face repeatedly into the cage.

Bama T: "Oz is turning the cage into a weapon, baby! He’s got no mercy for Graves!"

Graves stumbles backward, dazed and covered in blood, but Oz isn’t done. The monster grabs Graves by the waist and slams him with a spine-rattling belly-to-back suplex directly into the cage wall. Graves crumples to the apron, his body limp and caught up in the ropes as Oz towers over him like a predator stalking its prey.

With a sickening grin, Oz drags Graves up again and hits the ropes, rebounding with a shoulder block that drives Gravy’s back into the steel, leaving him dangling between the ropes and the cage. Oz charges forward and delivers a massive BIG BOOT, sandwiching Graves between his boot and the steel mesh. Graves’ body slumps, but Oz grabs him by the hair and pulls him back into the ring.

Todd: "Graves wanted violence, and he’s getting it tenfold!"

Ruthlessly, Oz lifts Graves onto his shoulder and roars before running full speed, launching him head-first into the cage. Graves bounces off the steel like a ragdoll, collapsing in a heap on the mat.

Bama T: "There’s nothing left of Graves, baby! Oz has turned him into a sack of dead meat!"

Oz shakes his head, almost pitying Graves, but it doesn’t stop him from locking in his finisher (I Failed You). Oz gently caresses Graves’ face as he applies the mandible claw, whispering, "I’m sorry… I’m sorry..."

Bama T: "This is it, baby! Oz has Gravy dead to ri—"

Graves, gasping for air, flails in desperation. Just as the lights begin to fade from his eyes, he summons the last of his energy and bites as hard as he can! Oz quickly pulls his hand away, and with a wicked grin, Gravy sits up and spits green poison mist right into Oz’s face!

Todd: "POISON MIST! Graves with the mist! Oz is blinded!"

Oz stumbles back, roaring in fury as he wipes at his eyes. Graves, seeing his chance, crawls toward the cage door as the referee unlocks it.

Bama T: "Graves is making his escape! After all that punishment, he's slithering out like a snake!"

With Oz still wiping the poison mist from his eyes, Graves reaches the cage door and, with one last desperate lunge, pulls himself through.

Todd: "Graves is crawling out! He’s done it! Michael Graves is going to escape!"

As Graves' body slithers under the bottom rope and out of the cage, the referee calls for the bell. The crowd erupts in a mix of cheers and boos as Graves collapses onto the floor outside the cage, grinning maniacally through all of the pain.

Bama T: "He did it, baby! Gravy took a beating, but he’s crawled his way to victory!"

Todd: "Against all odds, and after being manhandled by Oz, Michael Graves escapes the cage to win this brutal encounter!"

WINNER—MICHEAL GRAVES!!!

Graves lies on the floor looking wrecked, but laughing through the pain as the steel cage begins to rise. Oz, now unblinded and furious, stares daggers at Graves from inside the ring.

Gravy is barely able to stand, but sees the fury in Oz’s eyes. Realizing Oz is about to make a post-match move against him, Graves staggers toward the rising cage. With a crazed look in his eyes, he grabs hold of the steel as it lifts into the air and his body dangles off the side.

Todd: "Graves is climbing the cage as it’s rising! This man has lost his mind!"

Bama T: "He’s looking to escape Oz, but I don’t think that’s gonna happen, baby!"

Not to be outdone, Oz runs to the ropes, and with an incredible burst of agility, leaps from the ring, grabbing hold of the bottom of the cage as it lifts off the ground. The crowd roars in disbelief as both men ascend higher and higher, climbing the steel structure as it itself rises high into the air.

Todd: "Oz is climbing after him! This is insane! Somebody lower the cage! Somebody call security!"

Graves reaches the top first, desperately throwing wild punches. Oz, however, weathers the blows and retaliates with brutal, calculated shots of his own. The crowd watches in awe as they exchange punches, but it’s Oz who finally lands a massive right hand, stunning Graves.

Bama T: "Oh no, baby! Oz is winning this exchange! Graves is in big trouble!"

With Graves wobbling at the top of the cage and barely holding on, Oz lets out a roar and grabs him, leaping off the cage, and delivering a devastating backbreaker as both men plummet from the top of the cage down to the mat with an earth-shattering impact!



















Todd: "OH MY GOD! A BACKBREAKER FROM THE TOP OF THE CAGE!!"

Bama T: "Micheal Graves is literally broken in half, baby!"

Todd: "I can’t believe what we just witnessed… Oz with a backbreaker from the top of the cage! Michael Graves bent in an unnatural way and may never be the same again!"

Bama T: "Oz just put the exclamation point on this match, baby! He doesn’t even care about the win—he just wanted to destroy Graves!"

As Oz slowly walks up the ramp, a satisfied grin still on his face, the camera cuts to the ring, where the newest Gravy student, Mark Flynn, comes sprinting down.

Todd: "Here comes Mark Flynn, but I don’t know what he can do! Graves is in dire shape after that fall!"

Flynn slides under the ropes and rushes over to Graves, who is writhing in agony, clutching his back as Flynn kneels down beside him.

Bama T: "Gravy’s tough, but I don’t know how he walks away from this, baby! Oz just took him out in one of the most brutal moves we’ve ever seen!"

Flynn calls for help as he tries to get Graves to respond, shaking him gently. Graves is barely conscious and can only groan in pain. Medical personnel rush to the ring with a stretcher, but Flynn stays by Graves’ side.

Todd: "Michael Graves may have technically won this match, but Oz made sure to leave his mark."

Bama T: "I don’t know, Todd. Graves’ body is broken. Oz might’ve just ended Gravy’s career tonight…"

The camera lingers on Flynn as he stands protectively over the fallen Graves, yelling at the medics to hurry as they strap Graves to the stretcher. Oz pauses at the top of the ramp, looking back with a sinister smile before disappearing behind the curtain.

Graves is being wheeled out of the ring, Flynn walking beside him, his face etched with concern for his fallen “teacher” and fellow student.

Todd: "What does this mean for Relentless? If Gravy can’t walk, he can’t challenge for the Anarchy championship!"

Bama T: "Don’t count Gravy out yet, baby! We’ve seen him bounce back from worse in the past! Remember that time he had his head exploded on Warfare?"

The camera fades to black as the medics wheel Graves up the ramp.

MATCH WRITING CREDITS: Misty MAGAPOWERED Waters  Charlie Nickles OO

XWF LOADING BAY…

Flashing red and blue sirens…

Medical personnel load what may appear to be a scarecrow sold at Hot Topic leaking cherry juice into the back of an ambulance…

Of course, that’s just what Micheal Graves looks like when you do what Mister Oz did to him post-match…

‘Miss Furry’, still adorned in her cat costume is alternating between weeping… And self-grooming her ‘paws’...

Peter Parkor is… lying on the ground… Still unconscious.

Mark Flynn crosses his arms, tapping his foot

A nurse, in pink scrubs, covered in blood, walks up to the weeping trio…

“I’m sorry, are you… friends of… Mister Graves?”

‘Miss Furry’ just keeps weeping, as Flynn glances at the nurse… he closes one eye, thinking about how to answer that question.

“‘Friend’ is a strong word.”

“We were *sniff* his disciples! His st-students!” Furry stammers, between weeping sessions. “I can’t b-b-believe he’s gone!”

…Flynn exhales, checking his wristwatch. “Please… I’ve seen Gravy’s head EXPLODE off of his body… If he got better from that? He’ll recover from this in a heartbeat.”

The nurse tsk-tsks. “Ach-shoe-ally… and I hate to be the bearer of bad news… But this *could* mean the end of his career… And life!”

“NOOOOOOOOOOOO *hrrrrrrrrrgh*” Miss Furry curls up into a ball on the ground, before hacking up a hairball on the ground.

The nurse nods solemnly, glancing between the cat woman and Flynn still staring at the back of the ambulance. “I’m wicked sorry to tell ya… I know this must be devastating to hear…”

…Flynn checks his six o’clock, like she must be talking to someone else.

…Flynn turns out and points back to himself, like me?

“Me? Oh, I mean… Not personally. Devastating to my plans and schemes? Perhaps… I WAS gonna use Graves as a proxy to wrest control of the Anarchy Title…” Flynn pfffs with his lips dejectedly. “Can’t imagine that’s in the cards now.”

“Yeah, Mister Graves had just got booked for an Anarchy Title match, right? Unfortunately, that will be impossible. His body is totes PHUCKT.”

“...Fucked?” …Flynn double-takes, finally paying attention. “...Is that a.. Technical term?”

…The nurse looks at Flynn with wide eyes, as she scratches her right arm… “Oh yeah, we say it all the time at the… y’know… medicine place.”

“Hospital?”

“...Oh, Fer sure. Yeah.”

…

Flynn eyes this woman up-and-down, briefly… It dawns on him that the blood on her scrubs is… too dried to be recent.

“Hey, quick question: Are you a real nur-?”

“Hey, Ginger!” An EMT… in clown makeup?... calls out from the ambulance… Which… wait, actually… is that an ice cream van painted red-and-white to look like an ambulance? “Shake a tailfeather! This guy’s organs ain’t gonna sell themselves!”

…The nurse side-eyes Flynn.

”Sorry, ‘Organs ain’t gonna sell themselves’ is another… technical term.”

…Flynn exhales, impatiently.

“Okay, I’m technically still ‘good-aligned’...” Flynn finger-quotes. “So I’ma have to put y’all under citizen’s arr-*HRK*”

The nurse punches Flynn square in the larynx! Surprised, he drops onto his back!

…The ‘nurse’ scampers up the back of the “ambulance”, “GO GO GO!”, she screeches, as she wipes white powder from her nostrils.

The ambulance starts to pull away…

The ‘EMT’ grabs the mask off the Dark Warrior’s face.

“You think we could get something for this?”

“I COULD!” The nurse screeches, latching onto it! “GIMME!”

The ambulance suddenly turns! The mask flies out of their grip and out the back of the ambulance…

Flynn leaps to his feet, jogging after the ambulance…

As it speeds off down to the highway…

…

Flynn catches his breath, rubbing his larynx… He doubles over, catching his breath…

As he spots at his feet…

The Dark Warrior’s mask.

LATER THAT SAME NIGHT….

The ice cream van, cleverly disguised in a slapdash paint job that made it resemble an ambulance—if you squinted and were perhaps just a touch delusional—rolled into a bustling dock. Inside of this mechanical ‘wolf in sheep's clothing’, the mood was less lifesaving heroics and more back-alley dealings...

“Graves' organs... We’re talking big bucks for these, right?” The nurse tossed out as the clown-faced EMT navigated through dock workers and flocks of seagulls.

“Top shelf goods! I bet there's a nutjob out there who'd kill for a superstar champion wrestler’s ticker!”

They backed the faux-ambulance into a garage so nondescript it screamed:



“Zip it tight, yeah? We don't need any caped crusaders or badge flashers crashing this payday!” He barked as he killed the engine.

They greeted the surgeon with a nod.

The surgeon: A man whose steady hands betray no emotion—waits with an array of dull and rusting tools laid out on an old rickety table.

The nurse and the clown-faced EMT roll Micheal Graves out of the back. Despite his injuries, Graves’ eyes flicker open with a cunning awareness.

"Hey hey! I’ve been here before! Well, not here, exactly… But strapped to a gurney—staring down a clown and a hotty—whilst a mean looking dude eyes me like I’m a 30oz Porterhouse—Yeah, too many times to count…” Gravy can’t feel his legs—but that’s a problem for future Gravy—right now he must tap into the one skill that carried him throughout his first retirement: THE ART OF THE DEAL (Gravy was a used car salesman for a decade! *Todd) ”Come on, folks, let’s not be hasty! I’ve got an Anarchy title match coming up—AND it’s against a naturally weak woman! I’m a shoo-in for the next Anarchy Champion! So, what do you want? Money? I got you! I waste every dollar anyway—let me go and you can have every dime I make!" Graves attempts to bargain, but they all ignore him. "Come on guys! My shit ain’t worth nothin’ anyway! Have you seen how I live? What I eat? I’m American! They’ve poisoned me my entire life—AND I EAT THE TRASH POISON!

PLEASE—let’s talk about this!"

His pleas fall on deaf ears as they drag him towards the table. The surgeon picks up a scalpel and inspects it.

Graves continues to talk, but it’s clear he’s not in control here. 

They strap him down, and despite his struggles, the procedure begins. The nurse holds him down as the surgeon makes precise incisions.

Graves screams—"AHHHHHHHH—yet, amidst the screams—HHHAHAHAHAHA!!"—there’s laughter, a maniacal cackle that’s unsettling to your ears. He thrashes under his restraints, but it is clear that the pain for him is both excruciating and exhilarating.

"You know, this reminds me of the time—" Graves begins, but the doctor quickly grabs his tongue with forceps and cuts straight across, ripping it from his mouth. Gravy gurgles laughter though the blood.

The surgeon works quickly, removing the spleen, heart, lungs, kidneys, and more. Each organ is blackened, shriveled, and sickly looking—despite this, they are each carefully placed on ice in separate containers.

With the task completed and Graves' laughter now long since faded, the surgeon wipes his brow and looks to the others. "Dispose of the body," he instructs.

The nurse and the EMT roll the lifeless body of Micheal Graves back into the van.

Just before they slam the doors shut—We spot Gravy's finger twitch!