SEPTEMBER - 22 - 2024 LIVE FROM WEMBLEY STADIUM LONDON, ENGLAND Thaddeus Duke - vs - Centurion Standard Singles 1rp/4k Corey Black - vs - Shawn Warstein Standard Singles 1rp/4k "Them No Good Sick Bastard Cunts" Bobby Bourbon, Thunder Knuckles and Noah Jackson - vs - Theo Pryce, Mark Flynn and Luca Arzegotti Standard Tag Team Match 1rp/4k (per team) XWF Universal Championship Ned Kaye © - vs - Sebastian Everett-Bryce 2 out of 3 Falls 1rp/6k

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LIVE—Wembley Stadium erupts in a thunderous cheer as fireworks light up the London sky. The cameras pan over the sold-out crowd before settling on our commentary team.

JC: Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the biggest night of the year—night 3 of Relentless—LIVE from the LEGENDARY WEMBLEY STADIUM! I’m Jacuinde Castillo, and as always, I’m here alongside my broadcast partner, Brody Goodman.

BG: After two incredible nights in Houston and Seoul, tonight promises to be one for the ages. We’ve got the Universal Championship on the line, Sean Warstein facing Corey Black, Thaddeus Duke battling Centurion, and a mysterious third partner teaming up with Theo Pryce and Mark Flynn. If you thought the last two nights were wild, just wait—because night three is sure to top them all!

JC: Let’s not waste any more time—Relentless Day Three starts… NOW!

RA: Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall!



The house lights fall dark with a loud audible snap.  Thad's pet lion, Mufasa, belts out a loud roar and with it, the stage and the ring light up in a dim gold colored lighting.  Mufasa paces the stage as "My Name Is Human" by Highly Suspect plays throughout the stadium to a roar from the XWF Universe.

RA:  Now residing on Long Island.  Weighing 2 hundred 21 pounds.

THE LIONNNHEARRRRT!

THADDEUUUSSSS DUUUUKE!

Thad enters the stage with his hood up.  Standing on stage, Thad gives his 'messiah pose' as a triple pyro shot from the top of the X-Tron toward the ring.  When it bursts, it reveals a sparkling golden image of a roaring lion above the ring, bringing cheers from the XWF Universe.

After the pyro bursts, Thad in his custom white leather Lionheart jacket, throws his hood off as he begins down the ramp.  At the bottom, he slaps a few hands before climbing the ring steps.  At the top of the steps he pauses, looking over his shoulder toward the cheering Universe with his sweet smile.

Stepping to the apron, he slingshots himself over the top and into the ring before traveling to all four corners, climbing to the middle rope and sending out the ‘I Love You’ hand gesture to the Universe.



The opening riff of "Wild Thing" hits. The crowd gives a mixed reaction as Centurion steps out from behind the curtain.

He walks straight down the ramp with his focus solely on the ring ahead of him.

Reaching the apron, Centurion climbs up and steps through the ropes.

He moves to the nearest corner, briefly raising his arm to the crowd before stepping back down, settling into his corner, waiting for the match to begin.

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Thaddeus Duke - vs - Centurion Standard Singles

The bell rings and the two men leave their respective corners and begin to circle one another, complete with shared avoidance in locking horns.

JC:  A dream match of epic proportion tonight to kick things off in London!

BG:  Like ‘em, love ‘em, or hate ‘em, both Centurion and Thaddeus Duke are legends of the sport in their own right!

JC:  The rumors have run rampant and confirmed this weekend on social media!

BG:  This is Centurion’s final match!

Through with feeling each other out, the two go to tie it up in the middle of the ring.  Centurion, vastly more experienced than his younger foe, drives a knee into the ribs of the Lionheart.  The knee sends him down, rolling and reeling away.

JC:  The ribs of the Lionheart, no doubt in some pain still from Friday night!

BG:  The dumb son of a bitch did that shooting star through the top of the cage and I’m surprised he ain’t been spittin’ and pissin’ blood ever since!

Thad rolls away into a corner but Centurion follows him.  Duke tries to beg him off, but Cent won’t have any of it as he lays in some stomps and kicks in the corner.

JC:  Centurion!  Stomping a mudhole…

BG:  …and walkin’ it dry!

The crowd is electric as Centurion gains the early upper hand.  Thad slips through the ropes to the outside, his only defense as Centurion was relentless.  Cent follows him out and delivers a knife edge chop that begs the audible “wooo” from the crowd.  Then a second one with another “wooo” and Thad rolls back inside.  Cent though, stops Thad by grabbing his calf and drags him back out of the ring.  Thad makes a wild effort to backhand Centurion, but the retiring veteran ducks it.  Thad grabs Cent in a front facelock but Cent is quick to drive Thad and his ailing ribs back first into the ring apron.

Thad arches his back in response before hitting his knees on the floor.  Cent is quick to slide in and then back out of the ring to break the officials ten count.  Grabbing Thad by the hair, he starts to pull him to his feet.  Thad though, squirts down through Cent’s legs and vaults him forward causing Cent to ring his own bell off the ring post.

JC:  Off… the foul pole!

BG:  You gotta like the strategy shown so far from Centurion!

JC:  He knows those ribs are hurtin and he’s been steadily targeting them ever since the opening bell!

BG:  Conversely, Thad has had virtually no defense for it.  Maybe comin’ out here with your ribs taped up wasn’t the smartest move!

JC:  No, I’m inclined to agree with you, Brody!  A veteran like Centurion is gonna see that as a target!

With Thad gaining a little separation, he gets to his feet and guides Centurion back into the ring.  After attempting and failing to hop up onto the apron, Thad elects the safer, less painful alternative and gently rolls himself into the ring and pulls himself to his feet.  With Cent nearly back to his, Thad quickly sends him into the corner.  Thad follows him in with an avalanche type clothesline but feels the pain of the impact as he backs off, shakes it off, then gets right back to it.

Just as Thad nears Cent, Cent sends a knee lift into Thad’s midsection which halts him dead in his tracks.  Duke spins away a step as Cent climbs to the second rope, leaps off, and takes Thad to the mat with a bulldog.

JC:  Hook of the leggggg, twooooo and NO!

BG:  Thad kicks out, but you gotta wonder how much is left in his tank!

JC:  He’s no stranger to pulling multiple matches.

BG:  Maybe not, but you gotta figure, say whatever you want about his skills, okay?  But he’s been part time for goin’ on three years and after goin’ through Hell in a Cell two nights ago against a guy as hardcore as Barney Green?

JC:  And figure in the travel headed to all three nights on three continents…

BG:  This man is exhausted and you gotta know that, right!?

JC:  Assume for a second Thad Duke loses this match and Centurion goes out on top.  Do you think Duke would use that as any kind of excuse?

Centurion pulls Thad to his feet and taking a page straight of the Lionheart’s own playbook, Cent lifts him up and drops him back and ribs first across his own knee before applying the bow and arrow pressure.  Keeping the hold applied for a while, Cent finally lets go and shoves Thad off his knee.  Getting upright again, Cent sends Thad to the ropes but misses a lariat on the rebound.  Thad bounces off the far side and Centurion this time goes for a hip toss.  Thad puts on the brakes and stiffens up.  Duke nails Cent in the ribs and doubles him over before draping his leg over Cent’s neck.  Cent rises, sending Thad into a backflip and Duke follows that up with an arm drag takedown.

Cent pops to his feet and so does Thad.  Cent charges in but Duke takes him down with a headlock takeover.  Cent is quick to reach up with his legs and grapevine Duke’s head.  Duke spins and leaps on top of Cent.

JC:  Coverrr twoooooo annnd…

BG:  Centurion bridges out of the pin!

Cent powers up with the bridge evasion and around and around the duo goes until Centurion takes Thad to the mat with a backslide pin combination.

JC:  Twooo and…

BG:  Thad with the kick out!

JC:  Double lariat and both men are down!

BG:  I think the adrenaline of competition is kickin’ in now, Jacuinde!

JC:  I think you’re right!  Those ribs don’t seem to be much of an issue at the current time!

XWF Universe:  LET’S GO THAD!

XWF Universe:  LET’S GO CENT!

Both men feel the crowd behind them.  Both men pound the mat as they try to regain their own adrenaline.  Both men nip up simultaneously to a massive pop.  Thad though, crumples after coming to his feet.  Centurion is quick to pounce with a three quarter nelson combination.

JC:  ONE!  TWOOO!  THREEEE

BG:  NO!

JC:  Again!  Thaddeus Duke kicks out!

Cent gets back to his feet and Thad soon follows.  Duke goes for a bit of a desperate haymaker but Centurion ducks and lifts him up onto his shoulders in a fireman’s carry.  Thad, though, delivers defensive elbows into the side of Centurion’s head and face and eventually, Centurion is forced to let Thad slide down his back.  Thad though is quick to pounce with Centurion momentarily shaken and grabs Cent before sending him to the mat with a release german suplex.

Thad stays down to nurse himself for a few moments before fighting his way back to his feet.  With Centurion finally laying in a prone position, Thad advances toward him and drops a snap legdrop on him before popping back to his feet.  He heads for the corner and hops up on the middle rope.  He takes a seat on the top just long enough to adjust himself and his kneepads then leaps off to drive his knee and elbow into the skull of Centurion, a la the Excellence of Execution.

JC:  Coverrr TWOOOO and…

BG:  Centurion kicks out!

JC:  And the Lionheart goes back to work!

Thad gets back to his feet and lifts Centurion’s ankles off the mat.  He looks to step through, but instead drops his head straight down into Cent’s solar plexus.  Cent clutches his midsection and temporarily rolls away and onto his stomach.  Thad grabs him by the ankle, lifts his leg then drives Centurion’s knee straight into the mat.

JC:  And now you see some of what inspired Thaddeus Duke to become as good as he is!  That’s shades of the Hit Man right there!

BG:  Not just that, his last series of moves have all been reminiscent!

JC:  Thad is typically going at a breakneck pace, but he’s slowing it down tonight whether out of necessity or not is up for debate.

BG:  Whatever the case, he’s currently dissecting Centurion!

Cent is left clutching his knee as Thad won’t let up.  Grabbing Centurion by his ankle, Thad drags him to the corner and exits the ring.  Grabbing Cent by his ankles from the floor, Thad yanks on him hard and causes Cent to crotch himself against the ring post.  Then…

JC:  Figure four around the post!

BG:  Just brilliant strategy from both of these guys tonight!  I love it, Jacuinde!  Centurion was targeting Duke’s ribs and in contrast, Thaddeus Duke has targeted Centurion’s biggest weak spot, his knees!

JC:  Thank you for that fine analysis, Tony Romo!

Given some leeway considering the massive scale of the event, Thaddeus Duke uses up every bit of two five count DQ counts before finally releasing the ringpost assisted figure four leglock.  Duke gets to his feet on the floor while Centurion stays near the ropes and nurses his ailing legs and knees.

Thad slips into and out of the ring and grabs Cent by his leg again.  Duke rings his knee against the post causing Centurion to writhe in pain.  Thad looks like he’s about to do the figure four again, but Cent pulls him into the ringpost.

JC:  Centurion with the counter!

BG:  And now Thad Duke has rung his bell against the post and Centurion gets a little separation!

JC:  The opportunity for Centurion is now!  He just has to seize it!

The referee continues his count as Thad hangs onto the ring post to regain his bearings and shake the cobwebs.  By the count of seven, Thad rolls back into the ring with Centurion on his feet.  Thad gets bacfk to his feet near the ropes as Centurion delivers a running lariat.  The blow sends Thad over the top rope to a pop from the London crowd.

Centurion is gaining momentum as he backs away toward the center of the ring.  Thad meanwhile, rather than spilling to the floor, had both hands on the top rope and skins the cat to come back into the ring.  Thad comes up behind an unsuspecting Centurion and lifts him up by his own leg and drops him knee and shin first across his own knee.

Keeping a grip on Centurion’s leg as he falls to the mat, Thad Duke looks to be going for a more traditional figure four.  As Thad spins though, Centurion takes his other foot and kicks Thad away.  Duke lunges forward and inadvertently collides with the referee taking him down instantly.  As Thad staggers back after the head to head impact with the official, Cent tries to roll him up in a school boy.


XWF Universe:  1!


JC:  The ref is down momentarily!


XWF Universe:  2!


BG:  They don’t care!  These fans wanna prove they can count to three!


XWF Universe:  3!

Realizing there’s no official count, Centurion looks behind him to see the referee on all fours and clutching his head.  Letting go of Thad, Centurion gets back to his feet and approaches the official and attempts to get him back into the match.

Behind Centurion, Thaddeus Duke gets to his feet.  He takes a moment to gather his bearings and spins around to see Centurion with his back turned.  Having successfully revived the referee, Cent goes to return his attention to Thad.  Except…














SMACK!


















JC:  HEAT SEEKER!


















BG:  BUT TO THE REFEREE!

Centurion ducked just in time and Thad’s knock out kick just about takes the head off the official.  The referee is knocked clear to Australia as Thad stands in complete shock for just a moment.  This distraction is jusssssst long enough to give Centurion an opening and take advantage.














SLAM!














JC:  Thousand Mile Slam!

BG:  Hook of the leg but it doesn’t matter!

XWF Universe:  1!
























2!
























3!!!!!


JC:  That’s the second time Centurion has pinned Thaddeus Duke in this match!

BG:  UN!  Officially!

A massive pop from the crowd as a brand new referee sprints from backstage to the ring.

JC:  This one will count!

1!

























2!





























3!???????????????????????????????????????????





























BG:  DUKE KICKS OUT!

JC:  And these fans are absolutely on their feet!

BG:  And they should be, Jacuinde!  This match has been an incredible start to night 3 of Relentless!

Centurion sits up on the mat and pulls his own hair on each side.  He was close.  So close and he knows it.  Cent gets back to his feet at the fans urging.  Grabbing a fistful of the lion’s mane, he pulls Thad to his feet then lifts him up on his back in a fireman’s carry.  This time, he sends Thad down with a Death Valley Driver, but Thad reverses during the fall and takes Cent down with an ace crusher variant.

JC:  A timely reversal right there takes Centurion to the mat and both men are down!

BG:  I’m not sure if it was instinct or desperation, but either way it did the trick!

JC:  Thad with the arm on the chest!  Twoooooo and…

BG:  Centurion kicks out!

JC:  And this place is still rockin’!

Thad rolls away and slowly under the ropes.  In the ring, Centurion is trying to will himself to his feet.  Back on the outside, Duke uses the ropes to get to his feet.  He stands and nurses his ribs for just a moment before he looks at his forearm.  Thad kisses the ‘Gracie’ tattoo on his arm and as Cent gets to his feet, Thad flips over the top rope.  Cent turns quicker than expected and nails Thad…

JC:  Bloody Symphony!

BG:  That might do it right there!

JC:  Coverrrr one!  Two!... THREEE!

BG:  Shoulder up!

Centurion can hardly believe it as he sits up on the mat.  Utterly exhausted, the Legend gets to his feet.  He looks down at Thad, points, then looks out at the crowd to a massive pop.  Cent leans down and pulls Thad to his feet then lifts him up…

JC:  Here it comes!  Here it comes!

BG:  If he hits it, Centurion goes out on top!

FABULA














NOVA














CRYSTALLIS!














But on the toss over, Thad over rotates and somehow escapes by landing on his feet.  Centurion gets to his feet as quick as he possibly can.  Thad goes for the kick…














JC:  Telegraphed!














BG:  V TRIGGER!














JC:  THAD SIDESTEPPED!














Centurion hits the mat without a connection.














He gets back to his feet clutching his injured knee and turns.


































SMACK!














JC:  HEAT SEEKER!

BG:  THAD DUKE COLLAPSES ON CENTURION!

The official and the XWF Universe count in unison.


1!  1!
























2!  2!
























3!  3!

WINNER - Thaddeus Duke

JC:  Thaddeus Duke!  Your winner tonight in London over the legendary Centurion!

BG:  These two pulled out all the stops in an effort to get to victory!  I had no dog in the fight because I don’t like either of them, but it was enjoyable bell to bell.

While ‘My Name Is Human’ plays throughout Wembley, Thaddeus Duke rolls from the ring.  After grabbing a mic, he gingerly rolls back in.  Centurion meanwhile, has begun leaning against a turnbuckle while sitting on the mat.

”Andy,” an out of breath Thaddeus Duke begins as his theme stops abruptly.  ”I’ve said it in my promo, but I wanted to tell you face to face, man to man.”

JC:  What’s he got on his mind?

BG:  Oh who knows?

”You’ve won god knows how many titles, you have more than 200 career wins,” he pauses.  ”But I needed you to know that I wanted this match not because I hate you, but because I respect you.  From back when I was a little kid I’ve always admired your abilities.  I’ve admired your longevity.

“I know there’s been times where you thought the things I said about you was me belittling you and what you mean to this business and this company.  If I ever made you feel that that was a legitimate feeling, I truly apologize.”

Thad now gets visibly emotional.

JC:  Thad Duke, as always, wearing his heart on his sleeve tonight.

BG:  Well Centurion pretty much confirmed the rumors of his retirement last night on social media.

”No matter what has happened these last several months, I hope you know that none of it tarnishes your exemplary legacy.  If anyone ever deserved to go into the Hall of Legends a second time, it’s you and you alone and there is no second place.”

This creates a huge pop from the London chapter of the XWF Universe.  Approaching the corner, Thad extends his hand to Centurion.  Naturally, Centurion is a little hesitant, but ultimately accepts Thad’s gesture.  Thad helps Centurion to his feet.

”Retirements almost never last in this business,” Thad continues.  ”If this is truly it for you Andy, then from one generation to another, mine owes you a debt that can never be repaid.

”Thank you.”

JC:  Well, whether he wanted to or not, Thad made him hug anyway!

BG:  Why does he do these things!?

JC:  What?  Pull at your heart strings?

BG:  Maybe.

JC:  It’s a talent.

Thad Duke exits, leaving Centurion in the center of the ring.

XWF Universe:  THANK!  YOU!  CENT!

Duke stops his exit at the entrance way and turns around to face Cent before throwing up the ‘I love you’ hand gesture toward Centurion.



Centurion’s ‘Wild Thing’ theme plays throughout Wembley as Duke makes his exit, leaving Centurion time to bask and revel in his impending final departure from the world of professional wrestling.  The XWF Universe is happy to serenade the legend as he stands in the center.

JC:  The respect and adulation from the XWF Universe toward Centurion!

BG:  I guess he deserves it…

Cent exits the ring as London continues to sing ‘Wild Thing’.  He takes his time making his exit, making sure to spend valuable time with fans at ringside with fives and hugs to the smallest of those fans.

JC:  From Brody and myself, and on behalf of the entire Xtreme Wrestling Federation… from the bottom of our hearts…  Thank you Centurion!

---

The lights in the arena fade slowly to black. The opening tones of "I Would Die 4 U" by Prince and The Revolution blast from the PA, sending the crowd to their feet. They scream out the lyrics as Corey Black emerges from the back, walking out onto the stage with intent, bathed in a white light while purple ones circle the arena. He is wearing a hooded dark  denim vest that has metal band patches all over it and a large Pantheon logo back patch. Corey stands at the top of the ramp, looking out into the frenzy of dancing and singing attendees, nodding his approval. He makes his way down the ramp, taking his time to survey the landscape 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.



The lights in the arena dim as a heavy bass line drops.

Shawn Warstein steps out onto the stage with a smug grin on his face. He pauses at the top of the ramp, soaking in the fevered reaction, and then begins his slow, deliberate walk toward the ring.

He doesn’t rush—why would he? The match doesn’t start until he’s ready.

As he reaches the ring, Shawn slides under the bottom rope and stands in the center, arms spread wide, basking in the attention. Without a glance toward his opponent, he casually backs into his corner, leaning against the turnbuckle, waiting for the bell to ring.

---

Corey Black - vs - Shawn Warstein Standard Singles

The crowd in Wembley Stadium roars in anticipation as Corey Black and Shawn Warstein stand across from each other in the ring, legends of the wrestling world, ready to clash. JC and BG are seated at ringside, their excitement palpable.

JC: BG, we are about to witness something truly special. Corey Black and Shawn Warstein two icons, two legends, two men who at one time were considered untouchable. They have stood on the pinnacle of this business, and now, here at Wembley Stadium, they’re facing off on one of the biggest stages in the world. This is a match fans will talk about for years.

BG: Absolutely, JC. These two aren’t just legends; they’re architects of what this sport is today. Corey Black, known for his unrelenting strikes and suplex mastery, and Shawn Warstein, the ring general, a man who’s outlasted and outsmarted some of the best. This is going to be one for the ages.

*BELL RINGS*

The bell rings, and the crowd buzzes as both men circle each other. Warstein, calm and calculating, and Corey Black, intense and laser-focused. They lock up, jockeying for position. Warstein gains an early upper hand, muscling Corey into the corner. He delivers a couple of hard forearms to the chest, each strike echoing through Wembley. Corey smirks as if to say, Is that all you’ve got?

JC: You see that? Warstein's not here to play games, but Corey Black he thrives on this. This is what makes him so dangerous.

BG: Warstein’s going to have to dig deep here. Corey Black isn’t a man you intimidate with a couple of shots.

Corey pushes out of the corner with a burst of energy, driving Warstein back to the center with quick, sharp elbow strikes to Warstein's head and midsection. Warstein stumbles backward, and Corey doesn’t give him time to recover. He follows up with a spinning back kick to Warstein's ribs, doubling him over.

BG: Vintage Corey Black! Those strikes are lethal!

Warstein staggers back, but his ring general instincts kick in. He ducks under a discus clothesline attempt from Corey, pops up behind him, and nails a belly-to-belly suplex sending Corey crashing into the mat!

JC: What a counter by Warstein! Just like that, he turns the momentum!

Warstein doesn’t waste a second. He grabs Corey, pulling him to his feet and setting him up for a stalling brainbuster. The crowd gasps as Warstein hoists Corey up, holding him vertical for several seconds before crashing him down into the canvas.

BG:That's the ring general in Warstein he knows how to control the pace, knows exactly when to strike and how to make every move count.

Warstein goes for the first cover of the match, hooking the leg.



One!...




Two!...





No!

Corey kicks out, showing that this match is far from over.

JC: It's gonna take a lot more than that to put Corey Black down. Warstein’s got to stay on him if he wants to keep the upper hand here.

Warstein, unfazed by the kick-out, pulls Corey up again and sends him into the ropes with an Irish whip. As Corey rebounds, Warstein aims for a big boot, but Corey ducks under it, hitting the opposite ropes. On the return, Corey launches himself into Warstein with a leaping double stomp to the chest, sending him down to the mat! The crowd erupts as Corey springs back to his feet, feeding off the energy of the moment. Warstein rolls to the corner, trying to regain his breath, but Corey isn’t about to let him recover. He charges forward, delivering a brutal running Yakuza Kick to Warstein's head in the corner, causing the crowd to gasp.

BG: Oh my God! Did you see the impact of that Yakuza Kick? Warstein’s head just got rocked!

After the brutal  Yakuza Kick from Corey Black, Shawn Warstein crumbles into the corner, dazed. Corey, with a cold, calculating look, backs off for a moment, allowing Warstein to gather himself as the crowd chants in anticipation. The pace had been frenetic, but Warstein is a ring general, and he knows he can’t win a sprint he needs to slow things down and play to his strengths.

JC: Warstein is in trouble, BG. Corey Black’s explosive offense is so hard to counter, but if anyone can figure out a way, it’s Shawn Warstein.

BG: Warstein’s gonna have to use that ring IQ of his. He needs to slow this thing down before Corey overwhelms him.

Warstein slowly gets back to his feet, shaking the cobwebs, his eyes narrowing as Corey advances. Corey fires off another quick elbow to Warstein's head, but Warstein sidesteps it, quickly slipping behind him and locking in a tight waistlock. Corey struggles, but before he can counter, Warstein takes him down with a slick mat return, slamming Corey chest-first into the canvas.

BG: There it is! Warstein turning this into a technical battle, trying to take away Corey’s striking game.

JC: This is where Warstein shines. He’s so methodical, picking apart his opponents piece by piece.

Warstein maintains control, applying a front facelock while keeping Corey grounded. He grinds the hold, slowing the pace, forcing Corey to expend energy trying to escape. Corey fights his way up to a knee, but Warstein transitions beautifully into a side headlock takedown, keeping Corey on the mat, controlling his breathing, his rhythm.

BG: Look at Warstein, wrestling like it’s second nature. He knows he can’t get caught up in Corey’s high-octane offense. He needs to keep this match at his pace.

Corey, ever the veteran, doesn’t stay down long. He works his way out of the headlock, shifting his weight and using his agility to reverse the pressure into a hammerlock on Warstein. Shawn grimaces, trying to find a counter, but Corey expertly tightens his grip, forcing Warstein onto his stomach, isolating the arm. Corey methodically works over Warstein’s arm, delivering stiff  knee strikes to the bicep and shoulder, weakening it.

JC: Corey Black knows exactly what he’s doing here, going after that arm to weaken Warstein’s offense.

Warstein grits his teeth, but as Corey applies more pressure, Shawn rolls through, kipping up and reversing the hammerlock into a wristlock. With his technical prowess on display, Warstein flows into a standing switch, twisting Corey’s arm behind him. Corey counters with a swift snapmare, sending Warstein to the mat, but Warstein rolls through and gets back to his feet instantly, both men resetting and staring each other down as the crowd erupts in appreciation for the clinic they’re putting on.

BG: What a display! These two are trying to out-wrestle each other at every turn!

JC: No pin attempts, no finishers just pure wrestling. This is why these two are considered some of the best to ever do it.

They lock up again, and Warstein shoots for a single-leg takedown, catching Corey off guard. He takes Corey to the mat, immediately transitioning into a  leg grapevine, looking to sap Corey’s vertical base. Corey, though, fights back with hard open palm slaps to Warstein's head, breaking his grip, and expertly spins out, grabbing Warstein's ankle and twisting into a  single-leg Boston Crab!

JC: And Corey Black with the Boston Crab out of nowhere! These guys are countering everything!

Warstein grits his teeth, refusing to tap, and slowly crawls to the ropes, grabbing hold to force the break. Corey releases cleanly, backing off, but the damage has been done. Warstein pulls himself to his feet, but there’s a slight limp in his step now.

BG:That’s exactly what Corey wants. He’s targeting the body, the limbs he’s weakening Warstein bit by bit.

Warstein takes a deep breath, motioning for Corey to come at him again, but now he’s more cautious, aware of Corey’s strategy. They go back to the center of the ring, engaging in a series of rapid chain wrestling exchanges headlocks, wristlocks, arm drags, and waistlock reversals each man countering the other before any real damage can be done. The crowd is on their feet, fully engrossed in the technical masterclass happening before their eyes. Both men seem evenly matched, neither one able to gain a clear advantage.

JC: This is pure wrestling at its finest! Two masters of the craft, adapting on the fly, showing why they’ve been on top for so long.

BG: There’s no wasted motion. Warstein’s slowing the pace, but Corey is matching him every step of the way.

Warstein finally gains an advantage, slipping behind Corey once more and hitting a quick backstabber, the impact sending a shockwave through Corey’s body as Warstein slows things down further. He follows up by applying a Texas Cloverleaf, sitting back deep, looking to wear down Corey’s legs even more.

JC:And Warstein locks in the Texas Cloverleaf! He’s going to force Corey to either escape or tap out!

Warstein sits back deep on the Texas Cloverleaf, putting immense pressure on Corey Black’s lower back and legs. Corey grimaces, his face twisted in pain as he claws at the mat, slowly inching toward the ropes. The Wembley crowd is on the edge of their seats, rallying behind Corey as he digs deep, stretching his arm out toward the bottom rope. Corey struggles, gritting his teeth, refusing to quit as he drags himself closer to the ropes. His hand hovers over the bottom rope, and with a final burst of effort, he grabs it! The referee immediately steps in, demanding Warstein release the hold.

Referee:Break the hold! One!... Two!... Three!... Four!

Warstein glares at the referee but doesn’t let go, keeping the submission locked in past the count. The crowd boos loudly as the referee’s count reaches four. Finally, just before he can be disqualified, Warstein releases the hold, but the damage is done. Corey clutches his back, trying to push himself up as Warstein stands over him, a sinister look on his face.

BG: That’s Warstein’s ruthlessness right there! He knows how to push the limits, and he’s wearing Corey Black down piece by piece.

Warstein doesn’t give Corey any time to recover. He stomps viciously on Corey’s back, driving his heel into the already weakened area. Corey writhes on the mat, trying to find an escape, but Warstein is relentless. He grabs Corey by the hair, dragging him to his feet, and sends him into the corner with an Irish whip. Warstein charges in with a  running corner big boot, driving his boot into Corey’s face with brutal force!

JC: Shawn Warstein is turning up the intensity now! He smells blood, and he’s going after Corey with everything he’s got!

Warstein pulls Corey out of the corner and hoists him up, looking for a stalled brainbuster again. He lifts Corey into the air, but just as he’s about to drop him, Corey shifts his weight mid-air and counters, landing on his feet behind Warstein! Corey immediately responds with a series of rapid elbow strikes to the back of Warstein’s head, followed by a stiff roundhouse kick to the side of Warstein's ribs!

BG: Corey Black isn’t done yet! He’s fighting back with those lethal strikes!

Corey presses the advantage, delivering a flurry of bow strikes and open hand slaps to Warstein’s face and chest, overwhelming him with sheer force. Warstein staggers back, trying to cover up, but Corey is relentless. He hits Warstein with a brutal  discus clothesline, nearly taking Warstein’s head off as he crashes to the mat. Warstein, showing his veteran instincts, rolls out of the ring to regroup, clutching his ribs and breathing heavily as he leans against the barricade. He’s clearly feeling the effects of Corey’s barrage of strikes. The referee starts the count as Warstein paces, trying to catch his breath.

BG: Smart move by Warstein. He’s a veteran he knows when to get out of dodge and create some separation.

But Corey Black isn’t about to give him that luxury. He sees Warstein on the outside and immediately takes off toward the ropes. With the crowd on their feet, Corey springs up and launches himself over the top rope with a suicide dive, crashing into Warstein with full force! Both men tumble to the floor, laid out by the impact!

JC: Oh my God! Corey Black just threw himself at Warstein like a missile, and now both men are down!

BG: That’s the heart of Corey Black right there! He knew Warstein was trying to catch his breath, and he just erased any chance of that happening!

The crowd erupts in a massive "This is awesome!" chant as both Corey and Warstein lie on the floor, the referee looking down at them, starting his count. Both men struggle to get their bearings after the high-impact collision, the battle taking its toll on their bodies.

JC: These two legends are leaving it all in the ring and outside of it! What a match this has been so far, and it’s far from over!

Corey Black is the first to stir, slowly getting to his feet as the crowd roars in approval. Warstein is still dazed on the floor, trying to shake off the impact of the suicide dive. Corey takes a deep breath and drags Shawn up by his hair, pulling him into position on the ramp. With a focused expression, Corey unleashes a series of stiff open hand slaps to Warstein’s face, followed by quick, sharp chops to the chest, each one echoing through Wembley Stadium.

JC: Listen to those chops! Corey Black is tearing into Warstein with everything he’s got!

Warstein stumbles back, his chest now red from the brutal strikes. Corey wastes no time, wrapping his arm around Shawn’s neck and lifting him up into the air with a smooth vertical suplex, slamming Warstein back-first onto the steel ramp! The impact reverberates throughout the arena, and Warstein arches his back in pain, writhing on the cold, unforgiving surface.

BG: A suplex on the ramp! That’s gonna leave a mark! Corey Black is methodically breaking Warstein down, piece by piece.

Corey, ever the strategist, glances at the referee, who is mid-count, and realizes he needs to break the count. He slides back into the ring momentarily, resetting the count, before immediately heading back outside to continue the punishment. Warstein is still struggling on the ramp, and Corey grabs him by the head, dragging him to his feet. Without hesitation, Corey  slams Warstein's head into the barricade, the metal rattling from the impact.

JC: Corey’s not letting up! He’s bashing Warstein’s skull into that barricade like it owes him money!

Warstein is groggy, his head bouncing off the steel. Corey, smelling blood, prepares to sling Shawn into the steel steps to do even more damage. He pulls Warstein back, setting him up to whip him hard into the unforgiving steps. But just as Corey releases, Warstein summons every ounce of energy and  reverses the whip , sending Corey crashing shoulder-first into the steel steps instead! The sound of the collision is deafening, and Corey cries out in pain, clutching his shoulder.

BG: Warstein turns it around! That’s the veteran instincts of Shawn Warstein when you think he’s done, he finds a way to survive!

Warstein, still wincing from the beating he’s taken, shakes off the cobwebs and rolls Corey back into the ring. Slowly, he climbs up to the top turnbuckle, taking a moment to catch his breath and gather his bearings. He stands tall on the top rope, his eyes locked on Corey, who is struggling to get to his feet in the center of the ring. Corey finally makes it to his feet, still holding his shoulder in pain. Warstein leaps off the top rope, aiming for a devastating flying elbow to the head, but Corey, with the instincts of a veteran, catches Warstein mid-air! In an incredible show of strength, Corey lifts Warstein up by the throat and slams him down with a monstrous chokeslam, driving Warstein into the mat!

BG: Chokeslam! Corey caught him in mid-air with that chokeslam! What a counter!

Corey immediately drops down for the cover, hooking the leg as the referee counts:

One!...






Two!...





Th—

Warstein kicks out at the very last second, and the crowd erupts in disbelief! Corey sits up, shaking his head slightly, but not wasting any time. He knows he has Warstein on the ropes, and he’s determined to press the advantage.

JC: Warstein kicks out, but Corey isn’t done! He’s staying on him!

Without hesitation, Corey grabs Warstein’s arm and transitions into a tight  cross arm breaker, locking in the submission hold and wrenching back on Shawn’s arm. Warstein howls in pain, his face contorted in agony as Corey applies more and more pressure, pulling at the arm and hyperextending the elbow.

BG: Corey’s going for the submission now! That cross arm breaker is locked in deep, and Warstein might have no choice but to tap out!

Warstein fights against the pain, his free hand clawing at the mat, trying to find a way out. The crowd is split, half cheering for Corey to finish the job and half willing Warstein to escape. Shawn grits his teeth, shaking his head as the referee asks if he wants to quit. He refuses, but the pain is undeniable, and the pressure on his arm grows with each passing second.Corey Black keeps the cross arm breaker locked in tight, wrenching back on Shawn Warstein’s arm with all his strength. Warstein’s face contorts in agony as Corey applies maximum pressure, determined to force the submission. The referee is down on one knee, closely monitoring the situation, asking Warstein repeatedly if he wants to give up.

Referee: Do you want to quit, Shawn? Tell me!

Warstein shakes his head furiously, refusing to give up despite the excruciating pain radiating through his arm. He claws at Corey’s legs, trying desperately to find a way out, but Corey has the hold expertly applied. The crowd is on their feet, the tension in Wembley palpable as they watch one of wrestling’s greatest legends on the verge of tapping out.

JC: Warstein is in serious trouble here! Corey Black is refusing to let go, and this could be the end of Warstein’s night if he doesn’t find a way out soon!

Warstein, using his ring general instincts, digs deep into his reserves. He plants his free hand on the mat, trying to create some leverage. Slowly, he starts twisting his body, rotating toward Corey to shift the pressure. Corey resists, keeping the hold tight, but Warstein grits his teeth and pushes up onto his knees.  With a monumental effort, Warstein rolls his body over Corey, shifting his weight just enough to release the pressure on his arm. He pulls his trapped arm free and scrambles backward, clutching his shoulder as he gasps for breath. Corey releases the hold reluctantly, frustrated but undeterred.

BG: Warstein escapes! That’s the legendary savvy of Shawn Warstein right there just when you think he’s done, he finds a way out!"

Both men are on the mat now, trying to recover from the brutal battle they’ve been waging. Corey takes a moment to catch his breath, sitting up and shaking out his arms, while Warstein clutches his injured arm, trying to get some feeling back into it. The crowd begins to clap, willing both men to their feet, respecting the effort and resilience both legends have shown.

JC: This has been an absolute war, and neither man is willing to give an inch! These two are putting on a clinic here tonight!

Slowly but surely, both men get to their feet, eyes locked on each other. The tension is palpable as they circle, clearly battered but far from finished. Warstein is favoring his arm, while Corey keeps an eye on the damage he’s inflicted, knowing it could be the key to victory. They lunge at each other, locking up in the center of the ring. Corey quickly transitions to his signature elbow strikes, driving a series of hard shots into Warstein’s head and neck. Warstein, though wincing, fires back with a forearm strike of his own, rocking Corey. The two legends trade blows in rapid succession elbow from Corey, forearm from Warstein neither man giving an inch as the crowd roars in approval.

BG: It’s a slugfest now! Neither one of these legends is backing down they’re just going at it!

Warstein manages to duck under one of Corey’s elbows and counters with a backstabber, driving both knees into Corey’s spine and sending him crashing to the mat in pain. Corey rolls away, clutching his back, but Warstein doesn’t have much time to capitalize as he’s still shaking out his injured arm.

JC: Warstein with the backstabber! He’s slowing Corey down, but that arm is giving him trouble!

Both men rise again, but this time, Corey comes out swinging, blasting Warstein with a quick roundhouse kick to the side of the head. Warstein stumbles into the ropes, but as Corey charges forward, Warstein meets him with a  superkick, stopping Corey in his tracks! The crowd pops as Corey staggers, but instead of going down, he fires back with a sudden Busaiku knee strike, leveling Warstein!

BG: Back and forth, back and forth! These two are going blow for blow like it’s a prizefight!

Warstein collapses to the mat, but Corey, sensing an opportunity, doesn’t give him any time to recover. He pulls Warstein to his feet and hooks his arm, lifting him up into the air for a quick exploder suplex, sending Warstein crashing back-first into the turnbuckles! Warstein crumples in the corner, clearly dazed, as Corey stalks him like a predator.

JC: Corey Black is turning up the intensity! That exploder suplex was absolutely brutal!

Warstein tries to pull himself up using the ropes, but Corey has him in his sights. He charges forward, delivering a thunderous Yakuza kick to Warstein’s face, the force of the blow snapping Warstein’s head back as he collapses to the mat. But Corey isn’t done. He knows he needs to up the ante. He pulls Warstein out of the ring, positioning him on the apron. Corey climbs onto the ring apron as well, his eyes focused, the crowd buzzing with anticipation.

BG: Oh no, what’s Corey thinking here? This could be bad news for Warstein!

With lightning speed, Corey hooks Warstein’s head and arm, flipping over with incredible precision and delivering a devastating Canadian Destroyer right on the apron! The impact is sickening as Warstein’s head bounces off the edge of the ring, and both men collapse to the floor outside!

JC: CANADIAN DESTROYER ON THE APRON! GOOD GOD, COREY BLACK JUST DROVE WARSTEIN’S HEAD INTO THE HARDEST PART OF THE RING!

BG: These two are trying to kill each other! That move could have ended Warstein’s career!

Both men lie motionless on the outside, the crowd chanting "Holy Shit!" in unison as the referee looks down at the wreckage. Corey Black slowly rolls over, trying to get to his feet, while Warstein is barely conscious after the brutal move. The referee starts the count, but it’s clear this match is far from over. As Corey Black pushes himself up to his feet, the crowd’s cheers grow louder, sensing the intensity of the match reaching a new high. Corey, looking winded but determined, grabs Shawn Warstein by the head and drags him back toward the apron. With Shawn slumped against the side of the ring, Corey delivers a brutal series of knife-edge chops to Warstein’s chest.

CRACK!

Each chop echoes throughout Wembley Stadium, leaving bright red welts on Warstein's chest. Corey doesn’t let up, unleashing an onslaught of blows, his hand slapping Warstein's chest again and again. The crowd counts along with every chop, the intensity building as Warstein’s body jerks with each hit.

JC: Corey Black is relentless! Those chops are vicious, and Warstein’s chest looks like it’s been through a war!

Corey takes a moment to pause, standing over Shawn with a smirk as he looks down at his work. He leans in close, talking trash, his voice dripping with arrogance.

Corey Black: You wanted this, Shawn? You remember that?

He winds up for one more brutal chop, but just as he swings, Warstein comes to life, lunging forward and smashing his head directly into Corey’s face with a savage headbutt. The impact is brutal, as Corey’s head snaps back, momentarily stunned. The crowd gasps at the sudden shift in momentum.

BG: What a headbutt from Shawn Warstein! He’s still got some fight left in him!

With Corey reeling, Warstein takes advantage, delivering a stiff  clothesline that sends Corey crashing down to the floor. Warstein, fueled by adrenaline, rolls himself back into the ring to reset the referee’s count, buying himself a moment of respite.

JC: Shawn Warstein might be down, but he’s not out yet! That headbutt turned the tide, and now he’s trying to take control!

Warstein’s energy is fading, but he refuses to slow down. With a fiery determination, he slides back out of the ring and pulls Corey up by the head. The two legends stumble toward the commentary table, where Warstein grabs Corey’s arm and hauls him onto the table.  With a burst of fury, Shawn lifts Corey into the air and slams him back-first onto the commentary table with all the force he can muster. The table shakes violently under the impact, but somehow it doesn’t break, leaving Corey sprawled on the table in pain.

BG: Good Lord! Warstein just dropped Corey on our table, but it didn’t break! That impact was insane!

The burst of energy seems to take everything out of Warstein. He leans against the apron, breathing heavily, the adrenaline wearing off as the toll of the match begins to set in. Corey lies on the commentary table, clutching his back in agony, clearly feeling the effects of the brutal slam.

JC: That move took everything out of both men!

Warstein gave everything he had, and now they’re both down!"

The referee begins the count, both men down and out on opposite sides of the ring.

Referee: 1… 2… 3…

Warstein stumbles around the outside, slowly making his way toward the ring steps, while Corey rolls off the table, grimacing in pain. Both men are barely moving, the match taking a toll on their bodies as the count continues.

Referee: 6… 7…

At the count of eight, Warstein manages to pull himself up and roll into the ring. Corey, still on the outside, grits his teeth and wills himself up, grabbing the apron for support. Just before the count reaches ten, Corey drags himself into the ring from the opposite side, the two legends finally back on their feet, albeit on wobbly legs.

JC: They’re both back in! Somehow, someway, they made it back into the ring before the count!

BG: This is pure heart from both men! They’ve been through hell, and it’s not over yet!

The crowd is on its feet, cheering in anticipation of what’s to come next. Both men stand on opposite sides of the ring, breathing heavily, staring each other down, knowing that they’re far from finished. As both men stand in opposite corners, their eyes locked across the ring, the energy in Wembley Stadium hits a fever pitch. The crowd roars with excitement, the anticipation crackling through the air.  Corey Black and Shawn Warstein, two legends of the ring, battered and bruised, slowly raise their arms and motion for the other to bring it.

Corey Black: Come on, Warstein! Bring it!

Shawn Warstein: You first, Black!

Without hesitation, they charge at each other once again, and the crowd goes wild. They meet in the center of the ring and exchange blows Corey with a sharp elbow strike to Warstein’s jaw, Warstein retaliating with a stiff forearm smash. The strikes come fast and furious, back and forth, neither man giving an inch.

JC: Here we go again! Both men standing toe-to-toe, trading blow after blow!

BG: This is incredible! You can feel the history between these two in every strike!

Corey gains the upper hand momentarily, backing Shawn into the ropes with a series of rapid-fire kicks to the legs and torso. But as Corey goes for a spinning roundhouse kick, Warstein ducks underneath and counters, grabbing Corey by the waist and looking for a  German suplex. Corey, however, manages to flip out of it, landing on his feet behind Shawn and immediately goes for a roll-up pin attempt!

1…









2…








Warstein kicks out!


Both men scramble back to their feet. Warstein quickly hooks Corey’s arm and rolls him up for a pin of his own!
1…







2…







Corey kicks out!

They spring back up, neither man willing to stay down. The sequence continues, with both men going for rapid pinning combinations Corey attempts another roll-up, Warstein reverses into a small package, Corey transitions into a crucifix pin, but every time, the count only reaches two before one of them kicks out, leaving the crowd on the edge of their seats.

BG: Nobody can get the win! They’re countering each other’s every move!

JC: These men know each other so well, it’s like they can see what’s coming before it even happens!

After another near fall, both men separate and reset, glaring at each other from across the ring. They take a moment to catch their breath, circling one another like predators sizing up their prey. The crowd begins chanting:

Crowd: Fight forever! Fight forever!

BG: The crowd wants this match to go all night!

With a nod of mutual respect, they charge at each other again. Corey looks to finish things off with a  spinning back fist, but Warstein, having scouted it, ducks the attack and shoves Corey into the corner turnbuckle. Warstein steps back, stalking his opponent as Corey stumbles out of the corner, his head spinning.

Warstein lines up for a devastating superkick, but Corey, thinking the same thing, goes for his own!

CRACK!

The two men land simultaneous superkicks, the impact so powerful it sends both men crashing to the mat in a heap. They lay there, exhausted, the crowd rising to their feet, chanting louder than ever.

JC: Double superkick! They took each other out!

BG: I can’t believe it! These men just won’t quit!

Both legends are laid out in the middle of the ring, the match still far from over, with the crowd buzzing in anticipation of what will happen next.

The referee begins his count, urging both warriors to get back up.

Referee: 1… 2… 3…

Slowly, Corey begins to stir, rolling onto his side, clutching his ribs. Warstein, dazed, blinks rapidly, trying to shake the cobwebs.

Referee: 5… 6…

Corey pulls himself up to his knees, breathing heavily, while Warstein fights to get to all fours. The crowd is split—half chanting for Warstein, half behind Corey.

Referee: 8…

Both men rise to their feet, staggering toward each other, ready for one final exchange. Warstein throws a wild right hand, but Corey ducks underneath, grabbing Warstein around the waist and launching him with a snap German suplex! Warstein’s body crashes hard into the mat, but Corey doesn’t stop. With laser focus, Corey quickly pulls Warstein to his feet and, with a primal yell, plants him with a brutal Burning Hammer!

JC: Oh my God! Burning Hammer! Corey Black hit the Burning Hammer!

BG: Warstein’s done! That’s gotta be it!

Corey drops down for the cover, hooking Warstein’s leg as the referee counts:

ONE!



























TWO!!





































THREE!!!

WINNER—COREY BLACK!!!

The crowd erupts as Corey Black rolls off Warstein, exhausted but victorious. The referee raises Corey’s hand, and the fans cheer in appreciation for the battle they just witnessed.

JC: Corey Black has done it! What an absolute war between these two legends!

BG: Warstein gave it everything, but Corey Black is the one standing tall tonight!

---

The door swings open to Jett Sterling’s makeshift office, and in struts Mark Flynn with the Anarchy Championship slung proudly over his shoulder—wide grinned, smug, and thoroughly uninvited.

Flynn: "You can probably still hear the celebration from Seoul last night here today, Jett—and why? Because yours truly is officially the Anarchy Champion!"

He steps into the office, fully expecting Jett Sterling to be sitting at his desk, maybe offering a sarcastic slow clap or at least some recognition of Flynn’s undeniable greatness. Instead, Jett is packing up his desk, seemingly uninterested in the Anarchy title or the man holding it.

Flynn's grin fades slightly as he notices Jett’s complete lack of reaction.

Flynn: "Uh… hello? Did you miss the memo, Sterling? I just became Anarchy Champion, which makes me the man now, officially."

Jett doesn’t look up. He wraps a few papers with a rubber band and places them neatly into a cardboard box.

Flynn: "Are you seriously not going to congratulate me? This is a big moment. For you, really, having the best wrestler holding the Anarchy title. You should be—"

Jett finally glances up, blank faced and monotoned.

Jett: "I'm packing, Flynn."

Flynn blinks, the smirk fading a bit more.

Flynn: "Yeah, I can see that. So… what? Big move? Promotion? You can thank me now."

Jett closes the box, then straightens up, meeting Flynn’s gaze with an icy stare.

Jett: "I swore you’d never challenge for the Anarchy title as long as I was in charge of it."

Flynn leans in against the doorframe, arms crossed, grinning again but with a hint of curiosity.

Flynn: "Ah, that again. Yeah, I remember. You said some stuff. I did some stuff. Then, you know, I put on a little Graves mask, and here I am, Anarchy Champion. What’s your point?"

Jett, still expressionless, takes a deep breath.

Jett: "My point, Mark, is that you outsmarted me. Pretended to be Graves, found a loophole, and here we are."

He gestures to Flynn and the Anarchy title.

Jett: "So, I quit."

For the first time, Flynn’s smirk vanishes entirely.

Flynn: "You… what?"

Jett lifts the box off his desk, preparing to leave.

Jett: "I quit. I'm done. I won’t stick around watching you strut in here with that belt. I said you wouldn’t be Anarchy Champion under my watch, and I’m keeping my word."

Flynn stares, flabbergasted, blinking as he processes what just happened. His mouth opens, but no words come out at first. He’s always got a comeback, always has a witty retort, but right now, he’s just… stunned.

Flynn: "You're serious? You’re just… walking away?"

Jett nods, one final look of resignation crossing his face.

Jett: "Congratulations, Flynn. Enjoy it."

And with that, Jett walks out of his own office, leaving Flynn standing there, alone, speechless, the Anarchy title feeling just a little bit heavier than it did a few minutes ago.

JC: Jett Sterling just quit! What does that mean for Anarchy!?

BG: The inmates are running the asylum over there!

---

The entirely epic XTron video of TNGB takes over the arena as the lights dim. A spotlight highlights the ramp, and Thunder Knuckles walks out onto the entrance ramp, hyped and ready to fight, pointing out into the crowd. Behind him, Bobby Bourbon deliberately walks out and stops, also pointing out into the crowd. Both men glance at each other and return their attention to the ring, delivering a no-look fistbump, then in unison point into the ring. The crowd sings along with the song.



The crowd pop as Noah Jackson strolls lazily from the back and basks in the glow of sick cunt energy washing over him. He slowly puts his right foot forward and glides down the ramp on his heelies, rhythmically raising and lowering pointed fingers to the sky as the crowd chants.

"CUNT!"
"CUNT!"
"CUNT!"

Until he reaches the apron where he gracefully rolls under the bottom rope and goes straight to the corner continuing his motions and then chants until his music is rudely cut off.



The fans erupt as the words $Money Talks$ flash on the X-Tron followed immediately by the opening notes of Linkin Park's "Points of Authority" starts playing. Theo Pryce walks out from behind the curtain. Theo slaps hands with his adoring fans and even kisses a baby's forehead or two. Why a baby is in Hel is anyone's guess but whatever. Theo ascends the ring steps and then climbs into the ring where he takes up a position in one of the far corners so he can keep his eyes on the entryway.



Flynn bursts through the curtain in a dazzling blue robe. Across the back, it says "King of the Midcarders". He has no expression and makes no eye contact with his opponent. When the bell rings, he shifts gear and a snarl comes across his face.



The lights in the arena begin to spazz the fuck out as the opening of "5AM in Toronto" plays and the X-Tron is graced by the pre-made vignette of the #MemeQueen's greatest moments. As the hardest rapper in the history of music begins his verse, Luca Arzegotti and Social Media God & Manager Extraordinaire Zane Kingsley III step out from behind the curtain to a thunderous mixed reaction: half the crowd about to ready to hop the barricade and murder the dynamic duo while the other half collectively loses their shit in excitement. Luca throws a few punches on the stage to loosen himself up before the pair make their way to the ring, Zane showing off dat motherfuckin' Jesus piece as usual.

---

"Them No Good Sick Bastard Cunts" Bobby Bourbon, Thunder Knuckles and Noah Jackson - vs - Theo Pryce, Mark Flynn and Luca Arzegotti Standard Tag Team Match

The bell rings, and the match erupts with all six men charging into the center, trading blows as the crowd roars. Bobby Bourbon nails Theo Pryce with a crushing forearm, while Noah and Luca start brawling in the corner, exchanging stiff punches. Meanwhile, Flynn stays back to assess the action before leaping in and driving a knee into Thunder Knuckles’ ribs.

JC: Thing’s have exploded right out of the gate, and the official is having trouble reigning in the action!

BG: With these egos in the ring, this was never going to be anything but a slugfest!

Thunder Knuckles fires back with a series of stiff punches to Flynn’s midsection, managing to create some distance. TK grabs Flynn by the arm and whips him hard into the corner. Flynn crashes back-first into the turnbuckle, and TK charges forward, driving his shoulder into Flynn’s gut, causing him to double over in pain. TK follows up with a hard stomp to Flynn’s chest, keeping him trapped in the corner.

BG: Thunder Knuckles is taking it to Flynn right now! No one’s holding back here!

JC: Flynn’s in a bad spot! TK is making him pay for underestimating him!

Bobby grabs Theo and hurls him into the ropes, catching him with a huge back body drop. Theo lands hard but rolls out of the way as Bobby moves in for a follow-up. On the other side, Noah gains control over Luca, hitting a snap DDT before locking eyes on Flynn, who’s been stomping away at TK in the corner. Noah charges, but Flynn sidesteps and catches him with a stiff back elbow to the jaw, knocking Noah off balance.

Luca quickly shakes off the DDT and bounces back up just as TK comes at him. Thunder Knuckles ducks Luca’s first attempt at a spinning kick and catches him with a swift kick to the gut. TK grabs Luca’s arm and whips him into the ropes, but Luca reverses it at the last second. As TK rebounds, Luca leaps and nails TK with a beautiful standing dropkick, sending him crashing into the corner. Luca, not wasting a second, follows up with a running high knee right to TK’s face, dazing him.

BG: That knee to TK was vicious!

Theo struggles to his feet, only for Bobby to grab him again. Before Bobby can slam him down, Flynn darts in, landing a low dropkick to Bobby’s knee, forcing the big man down to one. Flynn gestures to Luca and Theo, seemingly calling for a group effort.

JC: Flynn’s looking to make it a team effort against Bobby! Smart move—Bourbon’s a powerhouse!

Surrounding Bobby, the trio closes in. Luca makes the first move, looking to whip Bobby into the ropes, but Bobby reverses, sending Luca flying. Luca rebounds off the ropes, ducks Bobby’s clothesline, and comes back with a flying forearm to the chest. Bobby stumbles but stays on his feet. Theo follows up with a sharp kick to the ribs, and Flynn moves in for the kill, but Bobby powers through, shoving them away.

Bobby’s raw strength gives him a brief upper hand as the three stand stunned. TK and Noah take advantage and rush in—but Luca hip tosses Noah over the top rope!

Theo hip tosses TK over the top!

Flynn tries to dump Bobby over the top, but no! Bobby pushes Flynn off! In triplicate, Flynn, Theo, and Luca all deliver superkicks to Bobby! Bobby crashes to the mat!

Flynn dives for the pin, but TK pulls the referee out as he goes to make the count! Suddenly, the lights drop!

JC: What is this?

BG: A power outage!

The lights come back up, and standing in the ring, bedecked in a referee shirt, is Doctor Louis D’Ville. TK and Noah look on in horror as Doc goes for the count!

1…

































2…

























Bobby kicks out, the delay given by TK’s actions saving him!

Noah slides into the ring and hits Luca from behind with a clothesline! Theo turns and hits Noah with an overhand right! TK back in the ring and putting the boots to Flynn as Bobby slowly gets to his feet! Suddenly, the lights drop again!

BG: Another power outage?

JC: Don’t be dense, the greatest power in the history of the XWF, including the current referee, is in the match!

The lights come back up, and the ring is empty!

THEO PRYCE’S OFFICE

Suddenly, in Theo’s office, we see all six men and Doc. Doc is puffing from his cigarillo, a sneer creeping across his lips. As the men all adapt to where they have wound up, the door to Theo’s office opens wide, where we see John Samuels and John Madison!

JC: THE KINGS!

BG: BIG WHOOP!

Samuels and Maddy step into the office, ready to swing things into Theo’s favor, when from behind them, we see Bearded War Pig and Crash Rodriguez!

JC: THE BASTARD CUNTS BROUGHT CAVALRY!

BG: OH MY GOD!

Samuels and Maddy brawl with BWP and Crash! TK grabs Luca and puts him in a rear naked choke, and as Luca’s eyes bulge from their sockets, Noah nails Flynn with a shot to the stomach and a DDT! Bobby rushes Theo, and both men exchange blows! Luca reaches up to a book shelf and grabs something from Theo’s library, braining TK! Flynn rolls through the DDT and back to his feet, hitting a spinning kick to the skull of Noah! Bobby tosses Theo up onto his shoulders, popping him up for a Bobbybomb, and prepares to drive Theo through his own desk! NO! Theo starts raining hammer blows onto Bobby’s skull, causing him to release Theo! Theo lands on his feet atop his own desk! He jumps off with a missile dropkick, sending Bobby reeling to the ground! Flynn grips Bobby’s left foot, Theo Bobby’s right, and they look to go for the wishbone! NO! TK dives over Bobby’s body with a double diving clothesline to both men! Luca dives onto Bobby and starts unleashing rapidfire rights to his skull! TK goes to pin Flynn!

1…












2…










John Madison and BWP brawl into the pinfall attempt, breaking it up! Suddenly, the lights drop!

BOBBY BOURBON’S OFFICE

When the come back up, we find out Them No Good Sick Bastard Cunts and Theo, Flynn, and Luca are in Bobby’s office! TK grabs a couch cushion from the sofa, as does Flynn, and both men start battering each other with the mostly harmless cushions! Luca grabs Bobby’s laptop and brings it crashing down across the head of Noah! Theo and Bobby tie up. Theo sets in a top wristlock! Bobby counters into a hammerlock! Theo counters into an arm wrench! Bobby counters into a leg sweep into a top wristlock of his own, bringing Theo back to his feet! Theo counters into a hammerlock! Bobby counters into an arm wrench! Theo throws a back elbow into Bobby’s midsection, and Theo goes for a vertical suplex! Bobby is too heavy! Luca joins in, and both Luca and Theo hoist Bobby up, delivering a double suplex to Bobby through his desk!

Suddenly, the lights drop!

LONDON, WEMBLY

The lights come up, and Bobby is prone in the middle of the ring as all the rest of the competitors surround it! Theo, Luca, and Flynn rush the ring a half step before Noah and TK, and Luca covers Bobby!

1…








2…








Bobby kicks out! Theo, Luca, and Flynn look on in awe as Bobby still can’t be put down, and as they do, TK and Noah rush the ring, and begin their assault on the others! TK with a huge right cross to Flynn, sending him to the outside! Noah with a flying headscissors to Luca, and both men tumble outside!

Thunder Knuckles doesn't waste a second. He slides out of the ring in pursuit of Flynn. Flynn stumbles to his feet, but TK is already on him, grabbing a handful of hair and slamming Flynn face-first into the ring apron.

JC: Thunder Knuckles is all over Flynn! He’s taking this fight outside!

BG: Flynn’s going to have to use all of his smarts to survive this onslaught!

TK rips the top off the announce table, tossing monitors and papers aside as Flynn tries to scramble away. Before Flynn can escape, TK grabs him by the back of his neck and throws him over the announce table, sending him flying into the chairs on the other side.

JC: Flynn just went flying over our desk!

BG: And TK is far from done!

TK marches around the table, yanking Flynn up by his hair and slamming his head into the edge of the table. Flynn groans in pain, but TK shows no mercy. He grabs one of the discarded monitors and drives it into Flynn's midsection, doubling him over. Flynn collapses to the floor, gasping for air as TK stands over him.

Back in the ring, Noah and Luca are going at it. Luca charges at Noah, but Noah ducks under a clothesline and catches Luca with a Spinning Backfist, sending Luca stumbling into the ropes. Noah rushes in with a Running High Knee that catches Luca square in the jaw, knocking him down.

BG: Noah’s got Luca on the ropes, literally!

On the opposite side of the ring, Bobby is back up and trading blows with Theo. Bobby rocks Theo with a massive SHORYUKEN!!!, sending him crashing into the corner. Bobby follows up with a running Corner Avalanche Splash, crushing Theo against the turnbuckles.

JC: Bobby’s throwing everything he’s got at Theo, and Theo’s barely hanging on!

Theo staggers out of the corner, but Bobby grabs him, hoisting him up for a Vertical Suplex. Bobby holds Theo up in the air for a few seconds, showing off his strength before slamming him down hard to the mat.

Outside the ring, TK has Flynn backed into the barricade. Flynn manages to rake TK’s eyes, buying himself a moment. Flynn stumbles away, but TK shakes off the pain and charges after him, grabbing a nearby steel chair. As Flynn turns, TK swings the chair, cracking it across Flynn's back, dropping him to his knees.

BG: Thunder Knuckles is Relentless! He’s taking Flynn apart piece by piece!

TK pulls Flynn up and whips him into the steel steps. Flynn clutches his shoulder in pain, but TK shows no signs of stopping. He picks up the steel steps and slams them down onto Flynn’s back, leaving him writhing on the floor.

Back in the ring, Noah has Luca in trouble. After a Snap Suplex, Noah ascends to the top rope, looking to hit the WORLD'S SICKEST MOONSAULT! Noah leaps off the top rope with perfect form, but Luca rolls out of the way at the last second, leaving Noah to crash and burn!

JC: Noah went for the big moonsault, but nobody home!

Luca pulls Noah to his feet and nails him with a stiff Roundhouse Kick that sends Noah crashing to the mat.

Meanwhile, Theo fights back against Bobby, countering a Double Underhook Suplex attempt with a back body drop that takes a lot out of Theo, but as Bobby rises—Theo hits him with a sharp Pryce Check (Satellite DDT), planting Bobby in the center of the ring.

BG: Theo finally turns things around on Bobby!

As TK finishes his destruction of Flynn outside, he slides back into the ring, locking eyes with Noah. They nod at each other, quickly working together to gang up on Luca. Noah grabs Luca by the arm, holding him steady as TK drives his knee into Luca’s midsection, doubling him over. With Luca vulnerable, TK and Noah set him up for a double-team. TK hits a brutal Thunder Strike (DDT to the heel), as Noah follows up with a thunderous So Sick Kick right to Luca’s skull!

JC: Luca’s down and out! TK and Noah are working like a well-oiled machine!

With Luca laid out, Thunder Knuckles and Noah turn their attention to Theo, who’s already feeling the effects of his war with Bobby. Theo braces himself as TK and Noah close in, and the crowd senses the impending beatdown. Noah lunges first, throwing a wild punch, but Theo ducks and counters with a quick elbow to Noah’s temple. Before he can follow up, TK charges in with a devastating running knee, driving the wind out of Theo’s chest and sending him staggering into the ropes.

JC: Theo’s in trouble here, BG! He’s outnumbered and outmatched!

BG: They’re going to dismantle him, JC! He’s got nowhere to go!

Noah follows up with a stiff kick to Theo’s midsection, doubling him over. TK grabs him by the arm, locking him into a Full Nelson, while Noah lines up for another So Sick Kick! But just as Noah’s foot is about to connect, Theo drops out of TK’s grasp at the last second, sending Noah’s boot crashing into TK’s ribs instead! TK doubles over, gasping for air, and Theo springs to his feet and delivers a sharp kick to Noah’s knee, causing him to drop to one leg.

BG: Did you see that?! Theo Pryce just survived a two-on-one assault!

JC: He’s still standing, but how long can he keep this up?

Theo lands a crisp DDT on Noah, but before he can capitalize, TK is back up and nails Theo with a hard spinning backfist to the side of the head. Theo stumbles, visibly worn out, but refuses to back down. TK moves in for the kill, grabbing him from behind, but as he pulls Theo in, Theo reverses the move into a Pryce Check! TK’s head bounces off the mat as Theo struggles back to his feet.

BG: He’s still got some fight left in him, JC! Theo’s not going down without a battle!

JC: But look out! Here comes Bobby!

Bobby Bourbon lurches to his feet like a towering giant. Theo turns just in time to see Bobby barreling toward him, but it’s too late. Bobby scoops Theo up with frightening ease, hoisting him high into the air and delivering a thunderous Bobbybomb that rattles the ring! The crowd erupts as Theo crashes down hard, his body limp in the center of the ring.

JC: Bobbybomb! Bobby just flattened Theo Pryce with that powerbomb!

BG: It’s over, JC! No way Theo’s getting up from that!

Bobby drops to his knees, covering Theo for the pin, and the referee slides in for the count:

1…




























2…
































Suddenly, a figure dives into the ring, breaking up the pin just in time! It’s Mark Flynn, but something’s off—he’s now wearing a Micheal Graves mask. The crowd is in shock, and Bobby Bourbon looks up, confused and enraged.

JC: What the hell?! Flynn’s dressed as Graves again?

BG: Oh, this is mind games at their finest, JC!

Flynn, now fully channeling the sadistic energy of Micheal Graves, grins wildly from behind the mask, as he slips into embodying the sickest aspects of Graves psyche...

Bobby storms toward Flynn, but Flynn ducks under Bobby’s wild swing and drives a stiff Back Elbow into Bobby’s face, followed by a Haymaker Punch to the throat that staggers the big man.

BG: Flynn’s fighting like Graves—DESPERATE–DIRTY–AND DANGEROUSLY!

JC: Bobby doesn’t know what to make of this! He didn’t prepare for Graves, he prepared for Mark Flynn!

Flynn closes the distance with a Trapping Headbutt, delivering blow after blow to Bobby’s skull. Bobby stumbles, clearly rocked, but still on his feet. Flynn hooks Bobby up and nails him with the Grave Digger (Death Valley Driver)!

JC: Grave Digger! Flynn just laid out Bobby with Graves’ signature move!

BG: Where’d he find the strength to lift him!?

Bobby tries to rise, but Flynn isn’t finished. He bounces off the ropes and lands a crushing Crossbody from the top turnbuckle, flattening Bobby back onto the mat.

BG: He’s taken over this match, JC! Flynn’s in full Graves mode, and Bobby’s in real trouble!

Before Flynn can go for the pin, Thunder Knuckles and Noah storm the ring, attempting to intervene. But Flynn swiftly spins around and spits a cloud of green poison mist into their faces, blinding both men!

JC: Poison Mist! Flynn’s using Graves’ poison mist on both TK and Noah!

BG: TK and Noah are blinded!

As TK and Noah stumble around the ring, clutching their faces in pain, Flynn takes advantage. Flynn lines up and hits TK with the devastating Graves Consequences.

Meanwhile, outside the ring, Luca pulls himself up and dives back into the ring and catching Noah with a vicious Get Away Driver (Kneeling Omega Driver), spiking Noah into the mat.

JC: Luca with the Get Away Driver! Noah and TK are both down!

With Bobby still recovering from Flynn’s onslaught, Theo lines up his shot, dragging Bobby to the ropes, Theo delivers a brutal Sovereign Stomp!

BG: Sovereign Stomp!

With all three men laid out, the crowd is on its feet. Theo, Flynn, and Luca all look at each other, nodding in agreement. They quickly dive onto their respective opponents for the simultaneous pin:

Theo covers Bobby!
Flynn covers TK!
Luca covers Noah!

The referee drops down, and the crowd counts along:

1… ONE!
















































2… TWO!!






















































3! THREE!!!

WINNERS—TEAM THEO!!!

JC: It’s over! It’s all over! Theo, Flynn, and Luca have won this insane match!

BG: They just took down some of the toughest in the XWF!

---

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 sceen.

"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: This moment for Sebastian Everett-Bryace couldn’t have come any sooner! A man who feels that the rise of the champion, Ned Kaye, has been tainted by shortcuts. A man he feels disrespected the hard-fought path that SEB to claim the Universal Championship.

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"

BG: Ironic in way, given that SEB’s Universal Title reign was at the expense of Ned Kaye, the very man he thinks isn't worthy to hold his jockstrap.

JC: Well, this capacity crowd here in Wembley doesn’t believe so either! A fully partisan crowd who also think that SEB’s dominance is an inevitability.

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.



The arena flashes white as spotlights from around the venue converge at the entrance room as "You Know My Name" begins playing bombastically. As the lyrics start, Ned Kaye stands at the point where the spotlights merge to thunderous applause. 

JC: Ned Kaye… a man well aware of the weight of expectations. Ready to meet this moment head on. A man who believes he is fighting for a higher cause than power.

He lifts his fist up in the air, awaiting the crowd to do the same before rushing down to the ring, serenaded by blue hues that light up the ramp following his steps.

BG: Ned Kaye feels he’s the only one serious about representing the future of the XWF. Where SEB is self-serving and hollow, Ned believes he stands in the light.

JC: And there’s about 90-thousand plus on hand tonight that disagree!

The lights above the stadium darken in their blue color as Ned gets closer to the ring, little bits of ember adorning the X-Tron and ramp, orange breaking up the blue. He leaps over the ropes into the ring before looking down, breathing the moment in, and pointing out at the crowd, ready to fight just with their energy alone. Jumping a bit from the adrenaline, he makes his way to his corner as he prepares for the bell.

---

XWF Universal Championship Ned Kaye © - vs - Sebastian Everett-Bryce 2 out of 3 Falls

Without calling out any stats, or even the competitors names, the ring announcer exists, leaving the referee to hold the Universal Championship in the air. Behind him, the union jack flags are twisting in the air, as the fans begin a series of euro soccer like chants.

The referee stands between the two competitors, holding the Universal Championship aloft for the sold-out crowd to see. Chants of “SEB! SEB! SEB!” continue to echo through the stadium as the referee calls for the bell. He swiftly hands the championship belt to the timekeeper and calls for the bell!



The two men circle each other, the energy in the arena intensifying with every second of anticipation. The challenger moves first, going for a quick low kick aimed at Kaye’s legs. But Ned dodges and counters with a leg sweep, but SEB leaps over it, showcasing his agility. They lock up, the power struggle evident as each man tries to assert dominance.

JC: No love lost between these two! SEB’s quickness versus Kaye’s tenacity- this is going to be a war of attrition.

The two shake off each of their initial misses, and finally lock horns in the center of the ring. Ned grunts and pushes SEB forward, overpowering him into the ropes. He lifts a knee and catches SEB in the ribs before hip tossing him onto his back. Ned bounces off the ropes quickly and goes for a short distance leg drop. But the challenger moves out of the way. Just as Ned crashes into the mat, tailbone first, SEB pops up from the mat and tries tackling Ned back down with a headlock. But the champion is able to squirm free. The two scuffle their way to their feet, when a superkick flies at Ned’s face. He barely dodges, leaving SEB getting caught up in the ropes. Ned gets behind the challenger, and pulls him down hard with an inverted DDT that lands into his knee.

Kaye goes for the pin!

1!


2!!


REVERSE CRADLE BY SEB! THE CROWD GOES WILD!!!!

1!



2!!

NED KICKS OUT!

Both men back to their feet quickly, and it’s SEB wrenching in another headlock. He runs Ned into the ropes, but the champion pushes away, sending SEB running across the ring alone. Ned spins around as SEB rebounds, going for a huge clothesline- but SEB beats him to the draw. A big shoulder block plants Ned on the mat.

SEB runs to the opposite ropes, going for a ground attack, but Ned quickly rolls toward SEB on his stomach, causing the challenger to leap over him. SEB runs into the next set of ropes, looking for a big attack. But Ned pops up and arm drags the challenger down. SEB winces but pops up quickly- ONLY TO BE ARM DRAGGED AGAIN!

This time Ned holds onto his arm, and starts twisting it around, pulling SEB back to his feet, when the challenger desperately pushes Ned back into the turnbuckle, breaking the hold. The two face one another down, exchanging words when SEB lets an open hand fly!
JC: A slap in the face! SEB is letting his lack of respect for Ned Kaye be shown here tonight!

BUT NED SLAPS HIM RIGHT BACK! The crowd boos loudly

SEB looks more stunned than hurt as he falls back on his rear, backing away and implying the ref to get involved. The ref pushes Ned back, giving SEB an opportunity to get back to his feet. SEB is slowly wiping the slap away from his jaw, and starts circling around the ring with Ned again. The two eyeball each other before locking horns again in the center of the ring, and again SEB overpowers Ned, pushing him back into the turnbuckle and kicks the champ in the midsection. Followed by a second kick! Ned staggers out of the corner after the ref gives a break, but SEB kicks him again. But Ned absorbs the kick and starts fighting back, he chops SEB, kicks SEB, chops again toward the opposite corner, sending SEB back first into the turnbuckle. Ned moves in, But SEB grabs him by the head and throws Ned back into the corner.

Another kick to the midsection from the challenger, this time so hard that it lifts the champion off his feet! But as Ned lands, he spins again and begins a series of chops that sends SEB backing up down the ropes toward the next corner. As soon as SEB is in the corner, he again tries to reverse Ned, and while successful at first, Ned dodges the kick this time and continues his series of chops down to the next turnbuckle- Kaye then whips SEB out of the corner and into the ropes, where he steps up and drops the challenger with a backdrop!

Wembley boos loudly as the challenger groans and rolls out of the ring and onto the floor.

The crowd’s boos intensify as Kaye smirks and motions for SEB to get back in the ring. SEB shakes off the cobwebs and climbs back in, but Kaye is ready. As soon as SEB steps through the ropes, Kaye charges, connecting with a spinning heel kick that rocks SEB. Kaye follows it up with a step-up enzuigiri that sends SEB into the corner.

Wembley showers Kaye with boos, but he remains focused. He charges at SEB, going for a bicycle kick, but SEB ducks at the last second, sending Kaye into the turnbuckle. SEB capitalizes, hitting a quick German suplex into the turnbuckles, and Kaye crumples to the mat. He doesn’t relent, rushing the down Kaye again, and hitting him with a second consecutive German suplex! AND NOW A THIRD!

SEB Bridges the suplex into a pinfall!

1!




2!!



NO!!! Ned kicks out!


SEB looks frustrated, arguing with the ref over the count. The ref shuts him down, and now sensing an opportunity, SEB pulls Kaye into position and goes for a springboard moonsault.

BG: If at first you don’t succeed, try again! SEB has reclaimed the momentum and is  looking to take the first fall right here!

But Kaye gets his knees up at the last second, driving them into SEB’s midsection. The impact leaves SEB gasping for breath, and Kaye wastes no time climbing the ropes.

JC: The champion is going high risk! What’s he got planned here?

Kaye launches into the air just as SEB stands!

THE EGO CRUSHER!

The flying hurricanrana headscissors takedown is converted into a beautiful submission hold!

JC: The champion has SEB dead to rights!

Ned’s quads squeeze around the challenger’s neck. SEB desperately tries to break free, but the champion has the perfect amount of leverage. He squeezes hard, screaming out. SEB’s eyes are bulging out of his skull, his face turning blue….

He has no choice but to tap.

DING! DING! DING!

Fall Counter Ned Kaye - 1 Sebastian Everett-Bryce - 0

JC: Ned Kaye steals the first fall! SEB is down 1-0!

Wembley erupts in boos as Kaye rises to his feet, smirking at the crowd. The scoreboard now shows 1-0, Kaye, and SEB rolls to the corner, clutching his neck in pain.

BG: A big setback for SEB, but this match isn’t over yet. Kaye’s got the momentum, but SEB’s far from finished.
The second fall begins, and SEB tries to shift gears. As soon as the bell rings, SEB shoots forward, catching Kaye off guard with a series of rapid strikes- kicks to the legs, elbows to the jaw, and a final roundhouse kick that sends Kaye crashing to the mat.

The crowd roars with approval as SEB wastes no time. He grabs Kaye’s leg and twists it into a brutal figure-four leg lock, wrenching Kaye’s knee with vicious intent. Kaye screams in pain, clawing at the mat, trying to find a way to escape.

JC: SEB’s targeting that leg now, looking to wear down Kaye for the submission!

Kaye writhes in agony, the pressure on his knee unbearable. He reaches out for the ropes but finds himself too far from salvation. SEB tightens the hold, and Kaye’s hand hovers dangerously close to the mat.

Just when it seems like Kaye is about to tap, he manages to roll over, reversing the pressure. SEB quickly breaks the hold and rolls to his feet, but Kaye is clearly favoring his leg now. And SEB gives him no quarter! Another stomp to the leg. He grabs the leg and starts dragging Ned to the corner, while crawling out of the ring. SEB slings Ned’s leg into the turnbuckle just before wrapping it around the steel post and applying another figure four!

The ref is shouting, and threatening to count SEB out. He begins a five count for the submission and SEB dangles down on Ned’s leg for the full count before releasing the hold by making himself fall to the floor. But quickly SEB gets up and smashes Ned’s leg into the turnbuckle one more time for good measure.

JC: The champion is in a bad way here!

BG: Not only is Ned Kaye going to be battling SEB and this crowd in Wembley, but a bad knee too!

SEB smells blood. He slides back in the ring and stalks Kaye, waiting for the right moment. As Kaye struggles to stand, SEB grabs him by the arm, pulling him into the center of the ring. With one fluid motion, he locks in the Empire Lock, a vicious leg submission trying to tear Kaye’s knee apart!

The crowd is on its feet, chanting for SEB as Kaye screams in agony, his face contorted in pain. SEB cranks the pressure, and Kaye’s hand hovers once again over the mat. This time, there’s no escape.

Ned Kaye has no choice but to tap out.

DING! DING! DING!

Fall Counter Ned Kaye - 1 Sebastian Everett-Bryce - 1

BG: SEB ties it up! 1-1! We’re going to the third and final fall!

The crowd explodes in cheers as SEB rises to his feet, pumped up by the victory. Kaye rolls to the corner, clutching his knee in pain. The score is now 1-1, and the match is all square.

JC: We’re tied up, and it’s anyone’s game now. Both men are battered, but it’s all going to come down to this final fall!

The referee signals for the third fall to begin, and both men know this is it. The tension in the arena is palpable as the bell rings.

Kaye limps toward SEB, clearly favoring his leg, but his eyes are filled with defiance. SEB is brimming with confidence, the crowd firmly behind him. They lock up, and SEB quickly takes control, forcing Kaye into the ropes.

SEB delivers a series of chest kicks, each one echoing through Wembley as the crowd cheers with every strike. Kaye, barely able to stand, stumbles forward, but SEB is relentless. He grabs Kaye by the arm and pulls him into a vicious DDT, planting the champion headfirst into the mat.

He goes for a quick pin!

1!









2!!








KICKOUT!


SEB doesn’t allow himself to get flustered, and quickly transitions, grabbing Kaye’s leg and flips the champ over, locking in the Nightfall sleeper hold! The crowd roars as SEB wraps his arms around Kaye’s throat, squeezing with everything he has.

JC: This could be it! SEB’s got Kaye locked in! The end is near!

Kaye flails, gasping for breath, but SEB’s grip is ironclad. The champion’s face turns red as he desperately tries to break free! Kaye summons all the strength he can muster, pulling up to his feet, and running SEB backwards into the ropes, breaking the hold! Ned darts to the ropes on the other side of the ring, and on the rebound


COFFIN NAILS!

The handspring cutter flattens the challenger!


NED KAYE COVERS!


1!








2!!






SEB KICKS OUT!!!



The crowd is on its feet, chanting “SEB! SEB! SEB!”

Both men struggle back to their feet, SEB immediately kicks Ned in the chest, and Ned returns the blow with a headlock forearm, and follows up by planting SEB back on the mat with a headlock takedown. Ned has the headlock in tight, and brings the two of them each on their feet again. Ned drags SEB over to the turnbuckle in the headlock, looking for a top rope tornado DDT!

THE TROOPERS TRIBUTE!




IS COUNTERED ON THE WAY DOWN!

In a stunning reversal, SEB has locked in Nightfall again!

Ned is down in the center of the ring, far away from the ropes! His face turning red!

Kaye struggles and grows weaker. His hand hovers over the mat, shaking. Wembley is ready to erupt in celebration.

But just when it seems like Kaye is about to pass out, he manages to summon one last burst of energy. He twists his body, rolling SEB over and reversing the hold into a cradle pin!!!!!

1!




JC: OH MY GOD!



2!!






3!!!

SEB kicks out at the last second!!!!!!

Wembley lets out a collective gasp. Both men are down, gasping for air, the exhaustion setting in.

BG: I thought it was over right there! These two are giving everything they’ve got!

SEB slowly rises to his feet, determination etched on his face. He grabs Kaye by the head, lifting him to his feet, but Kaye counters with a V-trigger! The crowd erupts in boos as Kaye pulls SEB into a small package.

1!






2!!









NO!!!!!!!!!

Once again, SEB kicks out at the last second! Wembley is in chaos, fans screaming and chanting, unsure who’s going to come out on top.

The action picks up in a blur of movement. SEB stuns Kaye with a superkick, but Kaye rebounds off the ropes, nailing SEB with another devastating Coffin Nails cutter! Both men collapse to the mat at the same time, their bodies barely moving.

But each with an arm draped over the other…

The referee slides into position to count, but confusion reigns. Both men’s shoulders are down. The referee looks from one to the other, unsure what to do.
1!



2!!













3!!!

Fall Counter Ned Kaye - 2 Sebastian Everett-Bryce - 2

JC: What the hell is going on? Both men are down! Who’s won this?

The bell rings with the crowd chanting wildly, not knowing what to expect. The referee confers with the ring announcer, who shrugs in confusion. The bell rings, but no decision is made.

RING ANNOUNCER: Ladies and gentlemen the two three falls contest-

Ned and SEB are both on their knees, exhausted, and confused

RING ANNOUNCER: - IS A DRAW! But there must be a winner tonight, and now, we are in Sudden Death! No count outs, no disqualifications! The only way to win is by pinfall or submission!

Suddenly, the referee signals for the bell

BG: Sudden death! There’s no more room for mistakes. The next fall decides everything.

JC: And listen to this crowd! They’re ready to see their hometown hero take the Universal Championship back!

Without hesitation, SEB explodes into action. Before Kaye can even register what’s happening, SEB delivers a brutal kick to the back of Kaye’s head, sending the champion crumpling to the mat. Not wasting any time, SEB rolls Kaye out of the ring where he crashes hard on the floor.

BG: SEB is wasting no time! He’s taking the fight to the outside!

JC: No count-outs now! SEB is looking to capitalize!

SEB, relentless, follows Kaye to the outside and grabs him by the head, slamming him face-first into the announcer’s table. The impact echoes through the stadium, and the crowd gasps as Kaye falls to the ground, clutching his face.

JC: Sebastian Everett-Bryce is throwing everything at the champion! He’s not holding back!

BG: Desperation is driving SEB now! This is his moment, and he knows it!

As Kaye rolls away, groaning in pain, SEB viciously kicks him in the ribs, sending him sliding across the floor. But SEB isn’t done. He rips up the protective mats surrounding the ring, exposing the unforgiving concrete beneath.

BG: SEB is removing the padding! He’s looking to end this right here on the floor!

JC: This is no longer about wrestling technique. This is survival! The survival of SEB’s Empire!

SEB hoists Kaye up, looking to drop him on the exposed concrete with a suplex, but Kaye, showing incredible resilience, counters by reaching up and raking SEB’s eyes. The crowd boos furiously as SEB crumples to the floor in pain.


Kaye, still gasping for breath, drags himself to his feet and grabs SEB by the head, slamming him face-first into the steel steps. The crowd boos even louder, but Kaye ignores them, focused on survival. He drags SEB onto the announcer’s table and sets him up for a vertical suplex.

JC: Oh no! Kaye’s looking to put SEB through the table!

Kaye lifts SEB, but SEB fights back, landing several punches to Kaye’s midsection. SEB reverses the hold, hoisting Kaye into the air and dropping him with a back body drop onto the exposed concrete!

The sickening thud of Kaye’s body hitting the ground silences the crowd momentarily. Both men lie motionless on the outside, exhausted and battered.

JC: Both men are down! This match has taken a brutal turn, and they’re both paying the price!

After a few tense moments, SEB crawls to his feet first, dragging Kaye up by his arm and rolling him back into the ring. The crowd’s cheers swell as they sense the end is near. SEB, breathing heavily, climbs the turnbuckle, ready to finish things off.

JC: Sebastian Everett-Bryce is going to fly! This could be it!

SEB launches himself into the air, aiming for a moonsault, but Kaye rolls out of the way at the last second! SEB crashes to the mat, and the air is knocked out of him. Both men lie on the mat, struggling to recover.

BG: That missed moonsault might cost SEB everything!

Kaye, crawling slowly, climbs back to his feet. He wraps an arm around SEB’s head, lifts and-

TORNADO DDT!



NED KAYE IS SPENT! BARELY HOOKING THE LEG!


1!









2!!













SEB KICKS OUT!






The crowd roars as SEB somehow manages to kick out. Kaye, frustrated, slams his fist into the mat and slowly pulls himself up, setting up for something bigger. He climbs the turnbuckle again, looking for the Ego Crusher!

SEB staggers to his feet, Kaye leaps off the ropes, but SEB catches him mid-air, countering with a German suplex that folds Kaye in half.

JC: What a counter by SEB! Kaye’s momentum has been stopped cold!

SEB wastes no time, pulling Kaye back to his feet and going for the Empire Lock, but Kaye fights it, elbowing SEB in the jaw and breaking free.

Kaye spins around and connects with a spinning heel kick that sends SEB reeling into the corner.


Both men are barely standing, their bodies battered and broken. Kaye charges, going for a bicycle kick, but-




IT’S COUNTERED BY SEB!!!!!!



JC: EMPIRE KICK! EMPIRE KICK! SEB JUST NAILED KAYE OUT OF NOWHERE!

Kaye collapses to the mat, his body limp. The crowd is on its feet, screaming in excitement. SEB collapses onto Ned, completely spent

1!








2!!

















3!!!



JC: He did it! SEB did it! Sebastian Everett-Bryce is the new Universal Champion!

WINNER—AND NEW UNIVERSAL CHAMPION—SEBASTIAN EVERETT-BRYCE!!!

---

CREDITS MISTY WATERS THADDEUS DUKE MARK FLYNN THEO PRYCE VINNIE LANE BOBBY BOURBON

JOIN US ON SUNDAY NOVEMBER 24th...














































LIVE FROM 3 MILE ISLAND...





























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...


Theo Pryce is seen in his office gathering up some papers, stacking them neatly. He watches the end of Relentless unfold on his monitor for a moment with a pensive expression, then goes about and continues to straighten things up.

Opening a drawer on his long, custom made mahogany desk with its spotless, lacquered finish, Theo pulls out a cigar wrapped in gold leaf. Watching his own reflection in the shining desktop, Theo beggins unwrapping the cigar with a long sigh.

“I’ve been waiting a long time for you, friend.”

In the reflection, we then see the door to the office open dramatically with a BANG against the wall. Theo, startled, snaps the cigar in half in both hands as “Loverboy” Vinnie Lane storms into the office, decked from head to toe in his trademark hot pink getup. Cowboy boots, snake print pants, vinyl duster, and even a ten gallon hat on top of his platinum blonde coif.

“Theo! I’ve been waiting for a long time to see you too, dude! I  missed you, my man!”

Vinnie slams his smoothie cup down onto the desk, splattering the tabletop with cotton candy colored slush. He then grabs Theo in a headlock and noogies him.

“I’m so glad to be back!”

Theo shoves Vinnie off of him, hard, and Lane bumps into the desk. The smoothie tips over and spills all over the papers Theo has just straightened, as well as the persian carpet directly in front of the desk.

“Ha ha! You got me, Theo! You always were the best at getting out of a headlock!”

Theo straightens his hair with a scoff, shooting daggers at Vinnie with his eyes..

“Vin, it’s good you’re here, actually. I have something…”

“Dude you mean WE have something! Look how awesome this show is going! Look how rad the XWF is right now! It’s ON FUEGO, dude! Amazing job you did while I was on my sabbatical! You’re the best wingman EVER, dude!”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t have much choice.”

“For sure, for sure…”

Vinnie starts walking around the office, inspecting the curtains and the wallpaper.

“I hope you don’t mind, man, I think I’m gonna take THIS office though, okay? I mean, I learned a lot about feng shui while I was in Tibet, and it just feels WAY more cool in here than in my old digs, you know? But don’t worry, I won’t stick you next door… I’m gonna knock that wall down and make it an even BIGGER office! There’s gonna be stripper poles in here, dude! Talk about a calming environment, am I right?”

Vinnie elbows Theo in the ribs, and Theo winces before straightening out his Armani suit jacket.

“Baby, where’s the hot tub going? I need to tell the interior designers.”

Roxy Cotton says without lifting her eyes from her cell phone as she saunters into the room. In one fluid motion she pulls a wad of chewing gum from her mouth and crams it into the golf leaf wrapping still in Theo’s hand, then walks next to Vinnie without so much as acknowledging Theo in the slightest.

“Theo you remember my soulmate Rox, right? She’s got some big plans too! Oh, babe, the hot tub is gonna go right here where Theo’s big sandbox is!”

Vinnie gestures toward a square filled with white sand and smooth rocks.

“It’s a zen garden, Vin, not a sandbox…”

“Yeah man, whatever, but Rox is totally allergic to non-beach sand so it’s DEF gotta go! Right babe?”

Vinnie smacks Roxy hard on the ass, but Roxy Cotton continues staring at her cell and texting at lightning speed.

“Dude, Theo, it is going to be SO COOL working with you again, man! You know it’s been ten friggin’ years since I was at my first Relentless in 2014? My first big event in the XWF? You should have been there, man, there was this weird ninja named Enigma…”

“I remember. But Vinnie, seriously, if I could talk to you for a second, I…”

“Oh we have TONS to talk about, dude! Like merch! We need to brand EVERYTHING, man! You know how Ned calls his fans Nedophiles? We need to trademark the crap outta that!”

“He does not call them that,”

“Not yet! But once he gets that first royalty check he’ll love it! He’ll be like WHERE’S ALL MY N-WORDS AT! And the crowd’s gonna eat it up, cheering like crazy!”

“He is definitely not going to call them N-Words. Why would he say that?”

“Ned, dude. Ned starts with N.”

“OMG does your friend not know the alphabet, Vinnie? Hi, I’m Roxy.”

Roxy sort of halfway holds her hand out but pulls it back before Theo can take it.

“We’ve met. A lot of times.”

“Whatever.”

“Dude, and what about this… I’m gonna modernize the bathrooms here in headquarters. Young interns don't want regular toilets anymore… they want SKIBIDI toilets! I’m installing them in every bathroom, to make sure it’s inclusive.”

“What? You know what, that’s great. Now, if I can just…”

Theo starts to pull an envelope from his interior jacket pocket, but Vinnie is already strutting around the room, waving his arms around like a lunatic.

“See dude, just because I’m in my acoustic era now doesn’t mean I can’t still have some ELECTRIC ideas! I’m thinking up new gimmicks and new matches every day! I spent like every minute of my safari…”

“Poaching trip.”

“... fantasy booking in my head! Like, you are gonna LOVE what I have in mind for the Bobby Bourbon Memorial Tournament!”

“Memorial… Bobby isn’t dead, Vinnie.”

“For real? I just figured a dude as fat as him had to have had a heart attack by now!”

“He hasn’t been too heavy in a while now…”

“It’s fine, man, I can just do a Ghost Tank Memorial Tournament instead.”

“Ghost Tank is also alive.”

“Now you’re just messing with me!”

“That one really is surprising, actually.”

“Well, someone’s gonna die someday… and then we are gonna have a WICKED tournament! I guess I don’t need the hologram of Bourbs that I bought now, though. I’ll just gift it to him!”

“Wonderful. Now, as I was saying…”

Theo once again tries to pull out an envelope, but Vinnie is still going.
“We’re gonna set this industry on fire, you and me, man! Just like before! With your work ethic and my natural talent and charisma and wanton disregard for social and societal norms, we are like the best tag team the XWF has ever had! And once I install the sauna in here, we can brainstorm together while we sweat out toxins. Oh! And dude get this… I’m gonna dedicate the story below this one to the minis… so we can lower the floors in here and have even MORE space to hang all my memorabilia! They don’t need as much head room, you know?”

A loud trumpeting blast shakes the room just then.

“Vinnie… what was that?”

“Oh right! I got an elephant on safari.”

“Poached.”

“An elephant?”

“Yep! He’s my new pet. I was planning on keeping him in here… like an emotional support pachyderm!”

“You got it upstairs?”

“I used the freight elevator.”

“We don’t have a freight elevator.”

“Yeah, that’s why he’s stuck. But it’s fine! He can just live in there! We’ve got lots of elevators!”

“Jesus.”

“No, his name’s Jimbo.”

“Great. Vinnie, listen…”

“No dude… you listen. For real, man, from the bottom of my heart. You sailed this ship while I was gone, and you did awesome. Thank you so much, dude. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to the XWF. I mean besides me. Maybe we’re tied? But you get what I mean. Thank you so much, dude. I got you something to show you my gratitude! No homo.”

Vinnie pulls out an expensive looking jewelry case with a little pink bow stuck on top. He hands it to Theo, who looks skeptical yet intrigued.

[theo“Vin, you didn’t have to. I was just doing my job. Which is what we need to talk about.”[/theo]

[/lane]“No worries dude, your job is safe forever! You’ll always be my number two! I couldn’t do it without you, dude! Now come on… open it!”[/lane]

Vinnie’s grin widens as Theo sighs and opens the case. Theo’s face scrunches in confusion as he pulls out what looks like a credit card but is solid black other than a familiar logo.

“Is this… an Applebee’s gift card?”

“No way… it’s a NO LIMIT Applebee’s gift card! You can get as many apps as you want, dude! For life! You’re so lucky.”

Vinnie continues beaming while Theo  puts the card into his breast pocket. Theo then finally pulls the envelope out and hands it to Vinnie.

“I got you something too.”

“For real? RAD!”

Vinnie rips the envelope open and pulls out some papers, which he reads out loud in a voice that starts out excited and happy, but slowly becomes more somber.

Vinnie: A few years ago when I along with John Madison and John Samuels showed up to rescue the tag team titles and the company from further descending down the toilet that the previous regime had flushed I did so knowing full well that there would come a time when one of two things would happen. Either I would decide that the 50% of the company I had taken from right under your nose would not be enough for me and I would maneuver to take the rest or, option two, that I would no longer need the XWF. A few months ago while sitting at home with my wife, daughter and newborn son, I bet you didn’t even know I had a family did you? That’s right Vinnie, while you’ve been off doing God knows what with God knows who I went out and got a family. A lovely wife, a beautiful daughter and a new son that I named after my brother Sebastian. Sebestian Everett Pryce. But I digress. As I sat there in my living room it dawned on me. I had accomplished in the ring and in the owners chair everything I ever wanted with the XWF and more. Could I do more? Absofuckinglutely I could. Do I want to? Absofuckinglutely I do not. I gave the XWF everything I had for over a decade and now it’s your turn to earn your paycheck. Consider this my resignation effective immediately. In the envelope under this letter you will find a term sheet that I had my lawyers draw up this morning. I am selling my 50% of the company to you for the price of $1.00 but there are terms attached that are not negotiable. Every member of the roster must be given health insurance paid for by the XWF. Insurance is to include any spouses and dependants. Every wrestler regardless of gender is to be given 6 months family leave for the birth of or adoption of a child. And lastly, under no circumstances can Jason Cashe ever be allowed to win the Universal Title. Ever. I learned a while ago that you can reach the top without stepping on people to get there, consider this my long overdue apology to those I stepped on as I made my way to the top of the XWF mountain. Those are my terms. And this is now your company, try not to fuck it up. ~Theo PS: That last term is not really ironclad, so do with it what you wish.  PSS: Stay off social media.

Vinnie stands still after finishing, and he looks up to lock eyes with Theo, who just shrugs.

“Are you sure, dude?”

Theo nods.

“I am.”

Vinnie’s head drops for a moment, and when he raises it again his eyes are wet. In a flash, he grabs Theo in a tight hug as Pryce struggles.

“I’ll miss you, dude. Thank you. I owe you everything.”

Theo stops struggling and returns the hug. They release each other after a moment and Pryce walks to the door.

“I’ll keep in touch.”

“You better.”

They nod, and then Theo walks out the door.

//for Theo



❤️

Thanks for all the support, and friendship over the years

Both IC and OOC: 🖕 Theo but also 💩❤️ a major part of why I came to XWF and why I returned. All you. Thank you and I'm always a shit break away.