February - 10 - 2025 LIVE FROM SCOTIABANK SADDLEDOME CALGARY, ALBERTA, CANADA XWF Tag Team Championship Dolly Waters & Madison Dyson© - vs - Latoya Hixx & Razor Blade 1 Team Collab - 4k #1 Contender to XWF Television Championship Solomon Kline - vs - Tommy Wish - vs - Tatiana Jolee - vs - Adam Garcia - vs - Matthias Syn - vs - Cypher 6 Pack Challenge Pure Wrestling Rules Elimination Match Aurora - vs - Larry Tact XWF Television Championship Charlie Nickles © - vs - Yelena Gorgo 15 Minute Time Limit Johnny Bacchus - vs - Bobby Bourbon Sebastian Everett-Bryce - vs - Dickie Watson XWF Xtreme Championship Charlie Nickles or Yelena Gorgo © - vs - Sarah Wolf - vs - Lucy Wylde - vs - Game Girl - vs - Terry “Scoops” McGee Fatal 5 Way RP Deadline is 11:59:59 PM PACIFIC on Friday, February 7, 2025 All matches are 1 RP/4k unless stated otherwise.

The second Warfare of 2025 opens not with fireworks or applause, nor thunderous music. There isn't even a shot of the Scotiabank Saddledome.

We're not in Calgary. Not yet anyway.

The camera swoops across a once-green field, now muddied and stained red with blood that seeps from the bodies littered across the ground.

Peasants, clergy, and knights alike lie in ruin next to each other - the indiscriminate slaughter of an entire culture. Women and children were not spared.

Still the camera sweeps - over more bodies and rising up a small hill to where a grand throne arises overtop the damage.

And on that throne… a king.

THE King.

KING KIERAN, King of the XWF, First of his Name.

King Kieran: Welcome to England…

Shots intersperse of an old stone arch bridge crossing a river; a quaint old town hall, and then… a large memorial theatre. It fades to an otherwise unmemorable house, save for the face that follows onto the screen soon after: that of William Shakespeare.

Back to THE king…

King Kieran: Welcome to Stratford-upon-Avon, home of that randy ol’ perv Billy Shakespeare himself, and… it is my pleasure to announce… home of the upcoming IDES OF MARCH.

By royal decree.

See, I need you all to remember a thing or two. This year's tournament to crown a new king? It's not starting from scratch. There is already a forerunner, and every single one of you is chasing ME. Whether you want to or not - them's the breaks. And so… you want to catch me? Well, you've got to come to where I am.

Now I know those of you who actually know how to read - which probably only accounts for 20% of you - might be a bit surprised to know that the IDES OF MARCH won't be happening in Rome. After all, that's what made it famous, right?

The thing is… I'm one of those 20% who can read. And so I KNOW what happened to Julius Caesar on the Ides of March in antiquity.

Bitches and gentlefucks… I am NOT going to Rome to be bled like a fucking pig like he was!

No. We do this my way.

I'm a wise king; I'm a smart king; and most importantly… I'm an alive king.

Unlike the bodies strewn before me.

Now obviously these bozos are all just actors, but that's exactly why I'm here right now and why at the end of March, you'll all be here too.

Because anybody not me, who wants to lay claim to the throne, is nothing but a pretender!

So let the pretenders come and play at the home of the greatest playwright of all time! I'm going to put together a show that would make Shakespeare himself envious! Make a real Iago out of him.

And as your king, I cordially invite you to the night's opening spectacle. A jousting contest for my amusement! Any and all who wish to partake will be welcome, and it will set the stage for the greatest story ever told!

My only regret is that the ending is already spoiled.

‘All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances
And one man in his time plays many parts…’

But I'm not fucking playing this part. I'm not acting! I'm not pretending! I'm the greatest tournament competitor in XWF history. You want the crown? You're going to have to rush me into my seventh age to do it.

IDES OF MARCH.

Sunday, March 30th, 2025.

Stratford-upon-Avon, England.

Long live the king.

Backwards the camera zooms, out and out until the township can be seen in the background and the hill the throne sits on is barely more than a speck on the screen.

But the bodies are perfectly visible.

---

JC: Folks, we’re opening this one with a tag match for the XWF Tag Team Championships!



Fireworks burst all around the X-Tron!

Razor Blade comes out wearing his American Nightmare outfit. Blade lifts his arms in the air and fist pumps as the crowd cheers!





“When Not Like Most Girls” hits. Latoya Hixx bursts onto the stage, spreading her arms wide open! Hixx walks straight down the ramp towards the ring!

JC: American Storm! One of the most spirited teams in the XWF!

BG: What dirt must American Storm have on someone in management to keep getting handed title opportunities like these?

JC: C’mon, Brody! Hixx and Blade are two perfectly game competitors! They dominated the Big Upps just a few months ago! And their last tag title opportunity, they were INCHES away from beating Ned Kaye and Mark Flynn! They have every right to challenge for the belts

…



BG: And here comes the team they’ll have to prove that against, Madison Dyson and Dolly Waters! The XWF Tag Team Champions!

BG: These two deposed what was thought to be an unstoppable duo in Lucy Wylde and Aurora!

JC: Very true, Brody! It was a hellacious fight, but Dyson and Waters proved themselves up to the challenge! And as a result, they are our new tag-team champions!

Madison Dyson saunters out onto the ramp as a plume of gold smoke filters out… As behind her, Dolly Waters steps on the stage beside her.

Madison Dyson then heads down the aisle confidently, bitching out any plebes that dare to boo her, Dolly flanking her, marching down toward ringside. She's often clad in elaborate feathery robes. The X-Tron shows a barrage of images of Madison and Dolly (sometimes as Misty) kicking the holy living shit out of inferior losers, intercut with her name logo and a queen's crown laden with barbed wire.

…American Storm slides to the outside, giving the champions time in the spotlight…

Finally, the champs climb through the ropes and takes the center of the ring. Madison sneers, looking down the challengers with dismissive disdain, raising both tag titles high, as Dolly raises a single fist into the air to the XWF Universe.

JC: Well, this one is unlikely to be a sportsmanlike contest. Dolly and Dyson had fighting words for their challengers, calling them undeserving of a tag title opportunity! They claimed they were respectively the TV title #1 contenders for crossing the street, the X-Treme title #1 contenders… inexplicably… AND the Universal title #1 contenders for slicing bread!

BG: I mean, if Thad is going to give a tag-title shot to these clowns, why not!?!

JC: I’d just recommend the tag champions take American Storm seriously! Hubris comes before the fall!

As Razor Blade and Latoya Hixx step back into the ring, both radiate supreme confidence. Razor spreads his arms wide, soaking in the cheers, then flexes his biceps with a cocky smirk. His eyes scan the crowd, feeding off their energy, his muscles tightening as he revels in his own presence. Beside him, Latoya plants her feet, puffs her chest out, and throws up a double bicep pose, her grin toothy and smug.

Dolly Waters is leaning in Madison’s ear, trying to go over pre-match strategy… Madison’s giving her partner a skeptical side-eye.

The official calls both teams to send a competitor to start.

Dolly leans over to Dyson to discu-

…But, Dyson’s already headed to the center of the ring.

Latoya smirks confidently, sharing a fist-bump with Razor before meeting Dyson in the center.

???: A moment of your time please, ladies and gentlmen!

Steve Sayors, XWF's resident interviewer, comes out to the ramp.

JC: What's Sayors doing here?

BG: He isn't going interview Hixx and Blade right before the match is he!?

Sayors takes a moment waving to the crowd before putting the mic back to his mouth.

SAYORS: Sorry to interrupt before we began but I just wanted to talk to Razor and Latoya for a moment. You two have kept me in a job here, Razor especially, you have put food on my table, sent my children to college and gave me more TV time I could imagine in my long, LONG career with XWF.

Which is why it is my prilvelage. No! MY HONOR to award you XWF's most pretigous Lifetime Acheivement Award!

LIFETIME ACHIEVEMENT AWARD WINNER: RAZOR BLADE!

Sayors begins crying as the crowd get on their feet for a standing ovation to Razor Blade who accepts a small trophy. Sayors wipes tears from his eyes before holding up a palm.

SAYORS: Now, I've taken enough of your time, other awards shall be given when we get the moment. Thank you all and enjoy the show!

Sayors takes his leave as the ref looks to the timekeeper and signals for the bell!

DING! DING!

XWF Tag Team Championship Dolly Waters & Madison Dyson© - vs - Latoya Hixx & Razor Blade 1 Team Collab - 4k

Latoya steps forward, rolling her shoulders, her eyes locked onto Madison like a predator spotting prey. Her lips twist into a sneer as she beckons Madison forward with a curl of her fingers, raising her hands for a grapple.

Madison, in reply, slowly lifts her hands in front of her, as if also preparing for a collar-and-elbow tie-up…

Before bringing her fingers in front of her chest, wiggling them menacingly, with clear disrespect.

JC: Oooooh, Dyson, not showing an ounce of fear sharing the ring with a titan like Latoya Hixx!

Latoya’s jaw clenches. Her muscles coil with irritation, and before the ref can blink, she lunges for a collar-and-elbow tie-up—

Madison ducks under effortlessly, slipping behind Latoya.

Latoya stumbles forward, her nostrils flaring as she whips around, eyes blazing. Madison grins, tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder, as she casually strolls circularly around the mat.

Latoya’s fists clench. Her breath hitches—she REFUSES to be made a fool of!

She charges, cutting to the right, to cut off Dyson’s ability to retreat to her partner.

Dyson, rather than tangling toward Hixx, backs up toward the corner!

JC: Uh-oh! Dyson might have soft-shoed herself out of room to escape!

Hixx goes for the killshot, swinging a wild discus lariat!

…

But Madison ducks underneath the strike with ease! Latoya crashes chest-first into the turnbuckle.

Latoya staggers back, cradling her chest, her teeth grinding together…

Madison, standing in the center of the ring, where Latoya is backpedaling toward in pain, reaches her hand up… Wrapping Hixx in a textbook side-headlock!

JC: Okay! We finally might see some *wrestling* in this tag ma-

Suddenly, Madison delivers a NOOGIE, straight to the top of Hixx’s dome!

The crowd gasps, audibly stunned!

JC: Whoa!

BG: Dyson having NO problem kicking the wasp’s nest tonight! Hixx is as ill-tempered as they come and you do NOT want to get her angry!

JC: Apparently, Dyson does!

Latoya’s entire body stiffens. Her eyes go wide before narrowing into pure, unfiltered rage.

Hixx shoves her way out of Dyson’s sideheadlock against the ropes, utilizing nothing but RAW strength!

Dyson bounces off the ropes!

Hixx spins, swinging wildly with a knockout right hand!

But Madison slides under the strike and rolls backward to her corner!

SMACK! Madison slaps Dolly’s hand, tagging her in.

JC: Oh my! Madison has riled up an uncontrollable, unbridled rage in her opponent tonight… And now, she’s tagging out for Dolly to bat clean-up!

BG: I think ‘bat cleanup’ suggests Dolly just has to finish the job. Dyson got the bull angry and is sending Dolly out there with a red cape!

Dolly exhales and steps into the ring, giving Madison a sharp look. Madison just grins, extending her arm, like ‘I warmed her up for ya!’

JC: Dyson, now delegating the duties of defending her team’s belt to Dolly.

BG: Well, Dolly’s gotta pull her weight! Dyson can’t do all the work!

JC: …Literally, all Madison’s done so far is piss Hixx off!

Latoya clearly itches for the opportunity to wreak some violence right now, advancing to the center of the ring, while Dolly strategically backpedals while circling Latoya… Avoiding being cornered against the turnbuckle!

JC: Very intelligent footwork on display by Dolly Waters! You do NOT want to get cornered by an angry Latoya Hixx!

Latoya continues pursuing Dolly, trying to close that distance gap… Latoya, still seething, moves aggressively, her fingers flexing as if itching to grab hold of something—anything. Dolly, in contrast, is light on her feet, her eyes scanning Latoya’s movements with a strategist’s focus.

Latoya lunges in for a lock-up—Dolly ducks low, spinning behind her!

Madison, from the apon, bobs and weaves along with Dolly’s dodges, cackling louder and pointing at The Storm…

Latoya, visibly turning red with a blind fury, grits her teeth and pivots to chop Dolly’s head off her shoulders!

…But Dolly ducks it again, before rotating her body, hitting a Spinning Back-Fist to Hixx’s exposed ribs!

JC: Dolly’s just too quick for Hixx!

BG: And Hixx is letting Dyson’s psychological warfare take her completely out of her game plan!

Blade barks at Latoya to ‘C’MON’.

Latoya side-eyes her partner frustratedly, grunting angrily, clutching her side, but shakes it off—only for Dolly to dart in and deliver a sharp knee to her gut!

JC: Ooooof!

BG: You do NOT wanna take your eyes off Dolly Waters!

Latoya’s mouth falls open in a gasp of pain. Her back arches, arms instinctively wrapping around her abdomen.

Dolly doesn’t hesitate—she bounces off the ropes, gaining momentum—

Latoya ROARS, throwing her weight forward, catching Dolly MID-RUN with a brutal Shoulder Block!

JC: Boom! Hope Dyson got the license plate on that FREIGHT TRAIN that just bowled her partner over!

BG: Freight trains don’t have license plates, Jacko.

Dolly crashes to the mat, eyes momentarily dazed. Latoya grins, standing over her, her chest heaving. She plants a foot on Dolly’s stomach and leans in.

Latoya taunts, jabbing a finger at her own temple, as the official drops to count!

1!

Tw-

In a flash, from the mat, Dolly grabs Latoya’s ankle and twists!

Latoya’s smirk vanishes as she loses her balance, stumbling forward!

JC: The wily veteran Dolly Waters, knowing exactly how to exploit a one-booted pin attempt! She may be twenty-two but she’s spent over a decade of her life in the ring and that experience pays off!

Latoya tries to scramble back to her feet, Dolly kips up lightning-fast! Latoya tries to charge her smaller opponent… but Dolly’s foot swings—Calf Kick straight to Hixx’s leg!!

Latoya seethes in pain, stumbling back into her corner! Dolly backpedals back to her corner, ready to tag out and double-team if Hixx charges her…

Dyson sneaks a hand behind Dolly’s back, ready to tag in when Hixx stampedes…

Instead, Hixx stretches her leg in her team’s corner, eyeing Dolly suspiciously.

BG: Surprising restraint by Latoya Hixx! She recognizes her temper and lack of composure has cost her a number of winnable matches! Rather than charge into the corner, she’s hanging back to evaluate…

Seeing Hixx has refrained from taking the bait, Dyson shrugs, reeling back her hand.

Dolly hops from one foot to the other, ready to charge back in…

Hixx huffs, eager to att-

WHAP! From behind, Razor slaps Hixx’s shoulder—tag!

JC: Oh dear! The American Nightmare has decided to enter the ring and prove once for all, wrestling has more than one royal family!

BG: …Who’s the other Royal Family?

…

JC: Uh. Blade’s family, I assume?

BG: And who’s the first royal family? The one that the Blades, by existing, prove there’s more than one royal family in wrestling?

…

JC: Oh, look! Dissension in the ring!

…All of a sudden, Hixx’s brief bout of patience, vanishes! She turns on her partner, seething at the idea of being tagged out of this match!

JC: Oh dear! Hixx *and* Razor are both known for losing their temper and their mean streaks… But I don’t know if we’ve ever seen them turn on each other!

Razor steps up, as Hixx gets in his face. Clearly, these two partners are in a state of agitation.

Dolly seems surprised by the sudden dissension between her opp-

WHAP! Dyson leans over the ropes and tags herself in, eagerly leaping back in to watch the American Storm split before her eyes!

JC: Dyson entering the ring with two angry bulls!?! What’s she thinking here?

BG: She’d been toying with Hixx’s emotions earlier in the match, Jacko! I think she wants to see the fruits of her handiwork bloom firsthand! Finally, the American Storm explodes!

Razor snorts angrily, pointing Hixx back onto the apron!

Hixx flexes her biceps straight in Blade’s face, as if communicating to him whose bringing the muscle to his partnership!

Dyson audibly cackles, crossing her arms, watching this show from the center of the ring.

BG: The American Storm is imploding and Dyson is loving having a front-row seat!

Dolly calls out to Dyson from the corner to watch out, but she’s too busy cackling at beating American Storm without actually having to perform a wrestling move.

Razor’s fist tightens, winding it up, as if considering possibly swinging at his own partner!

Latoya’s eyes burn with fury. Her nostrils flare.

JC: Something’s about to give here!

Then…

All of a sudden…

WHAM!

SUPERKICKS IN STEREOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

ON MADISON DYSON!

BG: WHAT?!?

JC: Oho! A ruse! American Storm claimed they couldn’t be outsmarted! I think they just ployed Dyson into thinking they were about to attack each other… And then, when her guard went down, they turned the attack on her!

BG: You’re giving those morons too much credit, Jacko! There’s no way those halfwits got one over on Dyson! She must’ve… slipped! Or something!

Dyson flops backward onto her back, counting the arena’s rafters!

American Storm springs into action for what would be the upset of the century! Razor hooks the leg as Hixx dashes, blocking Dolly from the pin!

The official drops to count… As Dolly springboards from the apron to the top rope!

1!

Hixx tries to catch Dolly… As she flies off the top rope!

…

But Dolly pierces Hixx’s defenses! Flying knee to the skull!

2!

Dyson rolls her shoulder over! Propelling Blade off and to the right!

…Where Hixx lands ontop of him!

JC: Oh my! Easy come, easy go! One moment, American Storm looked like they’d stolen control of this match, but Dyson and Dolly’s teamwork leaves them looking like a tangled-up mess!

Dyson forces her way back off the mat… Looking more furious than hurt, after getting played by American Storm of all teams…

American Storm is a pile of limbs and elbows, both struggling to get back up, but pushing each other back over in the process…

As Dyson springs backwards, hitting the ropes like Dyson’s looking to break speed records…

American Storm manages to work its way up to its knees…

Just as Dyson flies through the air, both boots out…

DOUBLE AMERICAN HISTORY YIKES!

Dyson punches her boot THROUGH the back of both challengers’ heads!

Hixx, the usual immovable wall gets CRUNCHED like a cardboard box in a trash compactor, flying out under the bottom rope!

Blade flies as fast through the air, but isn’t so lucky as to escape the ring! His throat snags against the middle rope, and he rebounds back toward the center of the ring, on his back…

JC: Uh-oh! Razor’s in No Man’s Land…

BG: And Dolly’s in the corner, revving her engine!

Razor shakily rises back to his feet…

Just in time for Dolly to spring out of the corner!

RUNNING WATERS! (Shining Wizard Knee Strike)

JC: Poetry in motion! As elegant as a hummingbird in flight and as devastating as a rocket-propelled grenade to the SKULL!

Dyson, the legal woman, sneers furiously, dropping to cover the American Nightmare, as Dolly rolls off and sets into a screening position, blocking Hixx from breaking the pin attempt!

JC: Great teamwork by the champs! Can Hixx stop the pin?

BG: The pin?!? After that boot to the back of the head from Dyson, I don’t think Hixx could *stop* the blood from spilling outta her head!

Dyson drives her elbow into Blade’s face, as she hooks the leg!

The official counts

1!

2!

THREE!

WINNER AND STILL XWF TAG-TEAM CHAMPIONS: DOLLY WATERS AND MADISON DYSON

JC: What a match! American Storm showed up! They executed a gameplan! And for a split-second there, it seemed like they might ju-

BG: Stick a sock in it, Jacko! Stick to the big headline! Dolly and Dyson absolutely TRUCKED their first defense! And remain YOUR XWF TAG-TEAM CHAMPIONS!

---

The feed cuts to the backstage area where a camera is following Aurora down a long hallway. The silver-haired tattoo beauty is in street clothes but she’s pulling along luggage toward what must be the locker rooms. She turns a sharp corner and has to stop on a dime. Her momentum still carries her right into a face to face confrontation with the one and only Jonathan Bacchus.


Bacchus is flanked by Grace Leary on his left and Olive Adler to his right. For a moment, the four of them pause, frozen in their respective positions.


Aurora: Small world.


Jonathan Bacchus: Clever.


Bacchus motions with a lowered gaze as he moves to walk past Aurora. But Bacchus is stopped when an outstretched hand braces itself on the center of his chest.


Aurora: Going somewhere?


Olive takes a defensive stance. Grace readies herself to lunge at the threat. But Jonathan is not fazed.


Jonathan Bacchus: Aren’t we all?


Aurora: Fair. But after what y’all did to Lucy, Seb, and I back in December, I’ve been contemplating where exactly it is that we’re headed.


Aurora glares over in Leary’s direction. Then over at Grace.


Aurora: Well, one of you, anyway. What happened to the other two?


Grace Leary: That’s none of your business.


Aurora: Shocker. I guess they’re only around when VLI needs ‘em to be.


Bacchus throws up his arm to block Grace from stepping forward.  He turns his attention back to Aurora.


Jonathan Bacchus: You’re addressing us, not them.  Say your piece.


Aurora: Fine. I don’t think what you, and your comrades, did was fair. I’m not sure why Lucy and I were involved in your vendetta against Seb, other than simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time. So let me ask you this: when you said that you’d happily take a bullet for Goodson and Doe, and they’d happily do the same for you, did you mean it?


Jonathan Bacchus: …


Aurora: Because if so, I’d like to test that theory. Personally.


Bacchus raises his gaze to meet hers.


Jonathan Bacchus: I understand.  Do it.


Aurora: Oh I will, to you, to Goodson, and to Doe, too, if and when they show their —


Jonathan Bacchus: Stop.


A beat, there’s an odd melancholy in his expression.


Jonathan Bacchus: You won’t be seeing them.  Of that I’m almost certain.  But yes, I will take the bullet for them.  However you want.  We can walk to the GM’s office right now, or you can put me on the floor right here — I promise there’s no strings attached or cards up my sleeve.  You deserve retribution.


Aurora cocks her head in a quizzical stare.


Aurora: Right here, right now… in front of VLI 2.0? You can’t possibly believe I’d be that–


Jonathan Bacchus: Neither are in fighting shape.  They won’t intervene — and I won’t let you continue onto them after finishing with me.


A pause, a sad smile.


Jonathan Bacchus: We’re here today because you made the moral choice to stand side-by-side with Sebastian that night.  It’s that same guiding principle of loyalty and respect which will keep them out of this.


Aurora cocks a balled fist, and grits her teeth.


Aurora: Three-on-one versus three-on-three wasn’t that hard of a choice to make, Jon. If the roles were reversed, you would have done the same damn thing and you know it.


Jonathan Bacchus: You’re right.  I would have.


He steps forward towards her, putting distance from Grace and Olive.


Jonathan Bacchus: And I’d be in your shoes, as well.  I feel no absolution from that night — put me down and find yours.


Aurora raises her fist even higher, as if she is about to strike Bacchus down where he stands, but instead she drops her hand and growls.


Aurora: I-I… I don’t know what’s gotten into you. You made a point to really try to put me down that night. But if anything, you reminded me a little bit of who I really am.


Johnny Bacchus: And who said it was putting you down that was my intention?  Maybe, in fact, you understood.


Aurora: Well understand this: I’m not going to hit you tonight, Jonny. It’s too easy and you… you want it. When the time is right, though, we’ll settle this. Face to face, one on one, like it always should have been.


Jonathan Bacchus: As you command.


She stares at him for a moment… then turns away.  But as she departs, he calls out to her.


Jonathan Bacchus: Aurora.


She pauses, but she does not look back.


Jonathan Bacchus: A rain of blood will flood the desert and not purify it.


With that, Aurora resumes her departure, pursing her lips and glancing back over her shoulder towards the group.  She shakes her head as she turns the corner out of view.


Aurora: Strange.

---

END OF YEAR AWARDS! MOMENT OF THE YEAR: THEO PRYCE'S SHOCKING SUPRISE RETIREMENT! The X-Tron flies to life playing a video of Theo Pryce, almost like an in memoriam. PPV OF THE YEAR: WAR GAMES: FALLOUT Replays of carnage from War Games: Fallout plays ending with Prince Adeyemi being lifted in celebration by his teammates.

---

JC: Folks, this one is a doozy! A six-man elimination match… under PURE wrestling rules!

BG: That’s right, Jacko! No closed fist punches! Three rope breaks per competitor!

JC: Get ready for a slobberknocker!

DING DING

”THE FOLLOWING MATCH IS A PURE RULES WRESTLING ELIMINATION MATCH! AND IT IS A NUMBER ONE’S CONTENDER’S MATCH FOR THE XWF TELEVISION TITLE!”

…





"Forgotten" by The Plot In You plays throughout the arena. The lights go out. Once the beat drops, a spotlight shines on the entryway, where SOLOMON KLINE appears inside the light, clad in a black hoodie over his ring gear and kneeling on his right knee. As the lyrics come in, he stands, removes his hood and surveys the crowd as sparks rain down around him. He grooves his way toward the ring, and high-fives fans along the way. He circles the ring and slides under the bottom rope. He continues rocking out to the song and at the 1:50 mark, he goes to the turnbuckle with a primal scream as the lyrics say "I have spent my life chasing things that have only brought me pain. In the end when I'm dead, hope it was for something!"

He returns to the ring and readies himself for the match.

JC: Solomon Kline! Son of former XWF competitor "Crazy" Crimson Kline!

BG: Kline has impressed thus far in his XWF career, but so far, he’s featured in a number of multi-man matches! A four-way for 2500 xbux here… A Bashmaster classic tag-title match there… Then, at Snow Holds Barred, a TV Title number one contender’s fourway!

JC: Can infer two things there, Brody! One, Solomon’s had a lot of *recent* experience in matches like the one tonight! And two, he’s gotta be itching to separate himself from the pack!


It shows Tommy in the shadows in a corridor somewhere on the X-Tron in a hoodie, then it fades back into the arena where the lights flicker and the camera see's him coming down to the ring in his jacket hoodie, with him waving a Kendo Stick around him. Then he nods his head to the beat, and he gives some fans some dap as he walks down to the ramp, then he slides into the ring, and gets on the turnbuckle and poses to the crowd with the stick in the air. Then he comes down from there, and sits on the corner as his theme fades off.

JC: The return of Tommy Wish! A member of the THUGs and XWF Triple Crown champion!

BG: Tommy has had bursts of effectiveness over his XWF career… He’s like a cockroach. Just when you think he’s got no shot, THAT’S when he surprises you.

JC: Wish is quite the opportunist. Can he find his way to winner’s circle tonight?

…Interestingly, Solomon steps up to Wish, ready to throw hands now, before the rest of the competitors are ready to go!

But, Wish scoffs, and rolls to the outside of the ring, choosing to take cover behind the steel steps, on the opposite side of the ring of those entering the match…

BG: Jacko, what the hell is that maniac doing there?

JC: Something that I’m sure makes sense to him!

The guitar opening of “Plowed” by Sponge begins to play over the P.A system bringing attention to the stage as the lights strobe as if in sync with the tempo of the song.


Will I wake up, some dream I made up
No, I guess it's reality
What will change us, or will we mess up
Our only chance to connect with a dream

-KA-BOOM!-

The fireworks explode off the top of the tron bringing the end to the strobes as a spotlight illuminates the figure of Tatiana Jolee standing there. Dressed in her blackout ring attire with matching boots and pads - her hair is pulled up in a bun and she has a black leather jacket with the Canadian flag on the back.

Say a prayer for me
(Say a prayer for me)
Say a prayer for me

Say a prayer for me
(Say a prayer for me)
I'm buried by the sound

Of a world of human wreckage
In a world of human wreckage
In a world of human wreckage

Where I'm lost and I'm found, and I can't touch the ground
I'm plowed into the sound

Announcer: “Making her way to the ring, from Vancouver, British Columbia… TATIANA JOOOOOLEEEE!”

To see wide open with a head that's broken
Hang a life on some tragedy
Plow me under the ground that covers
The message that is the seed

With a confident expression, she heads down the ramp, walking up the ring steps and gliding across the apron. She pauses briefly to wipe her boots on the apron out of respect for all who share this ring. TJ enters through the middle ropes giving the hard camera a smirk and a little wink while removing her jacket before using the ropes in the corner to do one last mini-stretch - gathering herself for the fight ahead.

JC: Here she is! The pride of Canada! Tatiana Jolee!

BG: And Calgary loves her, here tonight!

JC: You’ve got to imagine this one’s exactly in TJ’s wheelhouse! Not only is she on her homecourt, but this one is a PURE RULES match! As the former AW Purity Champion, she might have more experience in Pure Wrestling than all of her other competitors combined!



The opening riff of The hangman's body count by Volbeat starts to play throughout the arena as the lights dim. Several red and purple laser lights envelope the stage as Matthias Syn casually walks through the curtain. As he steps onto the stage, he stops and acknowledges the crowd by stretching both arms forward while touching his balled up fists together. After several seconds he begins to nonchalantly walk down the ramp towards the ring, not allowing the fans to touch him. He slides under the bottom rope, jumps to his feet and poses on the ropes. As he drops down from the ropes he takes off his red leather shearling coat, hands it to the ring girl and sits on the middle turnbuckle awaiting his opponent.

JC: And here he is, Matthias Syn! The XWF Revolution champion! As usual, Syn’s loudmouth has run him afoul of his competition tonight… A couple are giving him extra mean eyes as he circles the ring…

BG: That just revs Syn’s engine, Jacko! When you’re as good as Matthias Syn, you play this game on hard mode just to keep it interesting for yourself…

]Point Em Out blasts through the arena, shaking the walls as a tidal wave of red and gold lights crashes over the crowd. Boos and cheers blend into a roaring cacophony, rising in anticipation as the spotlight slices through the haze of red smoke enveloping the entrance ramp. For a moment, the arena is alive with tension and energy, and then, as the smoke clears, Adam García steps into view, basking in the electric response from the fans. A devilish smirk stretches across his face as he points boldly at the title strapped around his waist, the silver gleam catching the light.[/align]





JC: And there he is! “The Mad Bull” Adam Garcia!

BG: Adam Garcia is a judokah virtuoso! A wrestling phenom! What he might lack in Tatiana’s puro wrestling experience, he might just make up for in natural god-given wrestling ability!

…As the four competitors in the ring stare each other down menacingly…

Wish, still crouching as to obscure his appearance, starts to peak his head ov-



“IMA BE THAT NAIL IN YOUR COFFIN!”

CYPH3R walks out to the ramp, clad in ring gear matching that of Tamako Ito, who is proudly standing next to him. He smirks and drinks in the boos from the crowd as Linkin Park’s “LIES GREED MISERY” plays over the speakers. He looks at the crowd from underneath his hoodie, then whips the hood off as the chorus hits.

JC: And here he is! Cyph3r! The ring general himself! An absolute master strategist!

BG: Cyph3r is truly the plottingest wrestling there might have been in the history of wrestling! He found a way in his Warfare debut to beat Bobby Bourbon in SIX SECONDS!

JC: He’s got five opponents here tonight… And I’m sure he’s coming in with a gameplan for each and every one of them!

He confidently walks down the ramp, hand-in-hand with Tamako, who is beaming at the crowd despite their heat. They make their way to the apron and Tamako holds down the ropes for CYPH3R to enter. In the ring he slowly walks to the ropes and leans forward, looking out into the audience.

…Wish slips underneath the bottom ropes…

Tamako claps furiously and then takes CYPH3R’s hoodie as he prepares for the ma-

Suddenly, before CYPH3R’s even got his hoodie all the way off, he’s dipped onto his shoulders! Tommy WIsh is executing a schoolboy!

The official drops to count!

1!

2!

Cyph3r, shocked, kicks out!

…

RIGHT AFTER THREE!

ELIMINATED: CYPH3R!

BG: WHAT?!?

JC: Incredible! Wish surprises Cyph3r with a rollup… As he’s still making his entrance!

BG: No! What?!? NO! The match hadn’t started!

JC: The bell rang, Brody! Once the bell rings, anything goes!

BG: …But they hadn’t even put the match graphic on the screen!

JC: Irrelevant!

#1 Contender to XWF Television Championship Solomon Kline - vs - Tommy Wish - vs - Tatiana Jolee - vs - Adam Garcia - vs - Matthias Syn - vs - Cypher 6 Pack Challenge Pure Wrestling Rules Elimination Match

Cyph3r gets up, shocked! The official starts to usher him out of the ring, as he demands that the match hadn’t started!

Wish immediately slides back under the ropes, waiting for the action to clear as the other competitors wait for the official to clear out the eliminated competitor.

JC: Wish, showing off that opportunistic streak that made him a Triple Crown champion… Taking out the biggest wildcard as quick as he can!

BG: And you can see the other competitors relaxing a little bit… On a different night, Cypher could be the biggest threat, just in terms of strategy and calculation. WIsh just did the field a huge favor, blitzkrieging Cyph3r like that!

Cyph3r kicks the bottom rope furiously as the officials usher him out of the ring and back up the ramp…

Cyph3r slides under the bottom rope, seething angry at the dirty trick as Wish slides back in, eagerly waving Cypher goodbye, before spinning towards his remaining opponents.

JC: Do you think the other competitors will take it easy on Wish out of gratitude, Brody?

BG: No chance in HELL, Jacko!

…Wish immediately backs into an open corner, so he can eye all of his opponents…

The air is thick with tension as all five competitors slowly circle, their bodies coiled like springs. Tatiana Jolee’s sharp eyes flick between the others, calculating, her posture relaxed but ready. Adam Garcia rolls his wrists and tilts his head, a cocky smirk pulling at his lips—he’s in his element. Matthias Syn lounges against the ropes, his smirk wider, daring someone to test him first. Solomon Kline cracks his knuckles, his nostrils flaring with barely-contained aggression. Tommy Wish licks his lips, his fingers twitching, eyeing the competition with a sneer of disdain.

Garcia’s smirk fades into focus as he locks eyes with Syn. Without hesitation, he lunges forward, collar-and-elbow, driving Syn backward!

JC: Garcia, unsurprisingly goes after Syn first! These two went mano a mano at Spooky Night Savage last year!

BG: And Garcia’s been ITCHING for a chance to even the score between them ever since!

Syn’s smirk twitches into a grimace as he plants his feet, resisting. Garcia wrenches Syn into a side headlock, his biceps bulging as he cranks down. Syn grits his teeth, his fingers clawing at Garcia’s grip. His eyes dart around, searching for an escape.

Across the ring, Kline and Jolee square up. Kline cracks his neck, rolling his shoulders, his lips pressed into a tight line—he’s looking to overpower her. Jolee, in contrast, exhales smoothly, her expression unreadable as she steps forward. Kline lunges, attempting to muscle her into the corner, but Jolee shifts her weight at the last second. His brows shoot up in surprise as she ducks behind him, slipping into a waistlock.

Kline snarls, his muscles tensing. His hands ball into fists. Without thinking, he throws a back elbow, catching Jolee in the shoulder. She grunts but doesn’t let go. Kline’s lips curl into a smirk—she’s stubborn. He grabs her wrist, whipping her into the ropes. Jolee’s jaw clenches as she braces for impact, but as she rebounds, her eyes light up with a plan. She leapfrogs over Kline’s incoming clothesline, catching his arm in midair and using his own momentum to flip him into an arm drag!

Kline crashes onto his back, his eyes widening in disbelief. He grits his teeth and slaps the mat—irritation bubbling up.

…As these two one-on-ones progress simultaneously, Wish lounges against the ropes, biding his time and enjoying the show.

BG: Say what you will about Wish, he knows he stands to gain nothing from throwing hands early in this one! Let your opponents tucker each other out! Then, swoop in for the kill!

Syn, still wrapped in Garcia’s side-headlock, inhales sharply—then drives a sharp elbow into Garcia’s ribs. Garcia exhales in a short burst, his grip loosening slightly. Syn feels the give and fires another elbow. This time, Garcia winces, and Syn takes the opportunity to push him off. Garcia stumbles back, but his eyes widen with recognition—he’s being sent into the ropes. His boots pound against the mat as he rebounds, ducking under a Superkick from Syn. His smirk returns—he saw that coming. Using his momentum, he launches himself back and slams into Syn with a European Uppercut Rush, knocking Syn into the turnbuckle. Syn’s back arches as he clutches the top rope for support, his face contorted with surprise.

Jolee torques Kline, from arm drag position, into a wrist lock on the mat!

But, before Jolee could turn her hold into a submission, a forearm smashes into the back of Jolee’s head! From Tommy Wish!

JC: Looks like Tommy just decided he’s ready to get involved in the match here, Brody!

Tommy Wish grins, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction, as he cracks his knuckles.

Kline takes this opportunity to scramble over to the ropes, leaving Wish to do as he will to Jolee!

Jolee staggers up back to a vertical base, her hand instinctively reaching for the impact site. Wish doesn’t hesitate, his body language dripping with smugness as he drives another clubbing shot, this time an axehandle, into her spine.

Jolee’s back bows as she sucks in a sharp breath, but she quickly grits her teeth—she’s not going down that easily!

The official admonishes Wish, reminding him this is a PURE wrestling rules match! No closed fists!

JC: The official begging for Wish to give him a reason to toss him from this match! Wish is gonna have to play this match by the book!

Wish, oblivious to Jolee’s resolve, cocks his head and laughs, grabbing her wrist. He jerks her toward the ropes, aiming to send her running.

Jolee plants her feet, reversing the whip! Wish’s expression shifts from arrogance to shock as he stumbles forward instead. Before he can process what’s happening, Jolee drops her hips and snaps him over with a picture-perfect HIP TOSS!

The 320-pound Wish lands with a MASSIVE THUD down to the mat! His breath escapes in a short grunt. His hands scramble for purchase as he blinks, dazed. Jolee, not missing a moment, immediately follows up with a headlock, keeping him grounded. Wish’s arms flail for a moment before gripping her wrist. His body tenses—he’s not staying here.

Meanwhile, Garcia releases the boot off Syn’s throat at the count of 4!

Matthias Syn loses 1 rope break. He has 2 remaining.

JC: Very intelligent manuever! Garcia just burned one of Syn’s three rope breaks in this pure wrestling elimination match!

Syn sputters, quickly recovering on the bottom turnbuckle! Garcia’s smirk grows as he grabs syn’s head, yanking him upright.

But from behind, Kline growls, still frustrated from the earlier exchange, and swings a wild chop from behind. Garcia’s smirk vanishes as he barely dodges forward, his grip releasing off Syn’s skull to keep from getting STRUCK!

JC: Wow! Garcia must have eyes in the back of his head to avoid Kline’s ambush!

Garcia spins around… straight into a forearm smash from Kline to Garcia’s schnozz!

Garcis gets BASHED in the face… Kline tries to take advantage, securing Garcia in a front-facelock position…

When Garcia elegantly circle steps around Kline… AND hoists Kline up and over! VERTICAL SUPLEX!

Kline crashes hard, his back arching in pain. He groans, his hands instinctively reaching for his lower spine. Garcia, wasting no time, pounces, his eyes narrowing with sharp focus as he locks in an Octopus Stretch! Kline’s face twists, his teeth gritting as pain radiates through his shoulder and ribs. His free hand claws at the mat, searching—his boot barely hooks the bottom rope.

Solomon Kline loses 1 rope break. He has 2 remaining.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the ring, Jolee continues to wrap her bicep around WIsh’s throat in a headlock position, trying to bring the behemoth down to the mat…

Wish has gotten lower… and lower… struggling his massive frame toward the ropes… Despite his best efforts to break out of Jolee’s hold, she’s just too skilled!

Wish hand rests about six inches away…

The official barks at Wish, asking if he needs to submit…

…

But Wish manages to roll his shoulder forward, and latch onto the bottom rope!

Tommy Wish loses 1 rope break. He has 2 remaining.

Jolee is forced to release the hold on Wish… He clings onto the ropes for dear life, knowing that as long as he holds them, he’s safe from more Tatiana Jolee. Jolee huffs, moving on to other fish…

Jolee moves past Matthias Syn… just as Syn shoves his way up off the bottom turnbuckle… And crouches, poised to strike at the next opportunity…

Meanwhile, Garcia tries to grapple Kline back onto his feet… but Kline manages to shove him backwards! Garcia backpedals, remaining on his feet… As Jolee charges him, her eyes steeled with determination. Before Garcia can react to this surprise grapple, she hooks his arms and bridges into a Tiger Suplex!

Garcia’s eyes go wide as his shoulders hit the mat.

1!

2!

THR-NO!

Garcia kicks out! His chest rises and falls sharply as he rolls to his side, his fingers pressing against his neck where he landed.

Before Jolee can follow up, her breath catches—Syn suddenly springs out of the corner his grin full of mischief. Without warning, he leaps, driving a running knee, straight into Jolee’s gut!

Jolee exhales sharply, doubling over. Syn takes her head, dragging her toward the corner he just sprung out of! His smirk grows as he pivots, planting her face-first into the middle turnbuckle with a Reverse STO!

WHAM! Jolee’s head snaps forward, her body sagging against the ropes. Syn backs up, eyes glinting. He takes a moment to appreciate his handiwork—then sprints forward.

Double Knee Strike straight to Jolee’s back!

Jolee jerks from the impact, rolling to her back, her breath ragged. Syn hooks the leg.

1!

2!

NO! Jolee forces a shoulder off the mat!

Syn seethes angrily, as he’s forced off by Jolee’s kickout…

Just as Kline slides across the ring! Diving dropkick straight to Syn’s skull!

JC: Wow! It’s hard to even track what’s going on here, Brody!

BG: You said it, Jacko! Every time I think one person’s got an advantage, another leaps into strike!

Wish, finally peeking away from the ropes, to see no one’s waiting to attack him when he lets go… Crawls along the bottom rope to chill in the corner, a la Road Dogg in the 2000 Royal Rumble

Kline, still catching his breath, hauls Syn up and launches him into the ropes. Syn rebounds—Kline twists and catches him mid-motion—

Blue Thunder Bomb!

The impact rattles the ring. Syn falls back against the mat, as Kline clinches his grip for the pin.

1!

2!

NOOOOO! Syn forces a shoulder up!

Frustration flickers in Kline’s eyes as he scrambles up, fists clenching…. He winds up to strike Syn when he gets off the mat…

…But across the ring, Garcia gets up off the mat first… Kline sees him… and goes after the Mad Bull!

Garcia, breathing heavily, meets Kline’s charge—then both men explode into a forearm exchange!

Each strike lands with sickening force, sweat flying. Kline lands a particularly vicious shot, Garcia’s head snapping to the side. Seeing his opening, Kline sprints to the ropes. His eyes burn with determination.

He lowers his stance. Spear—

Garcia leapfrogs! Kline crashes into the turnbuckle shoulder-first. He groans, his forehead pressing against the pad. Before he can recover, Garcia grabs him—

Gargano Escape! Garcia drags Kline down to the canvas, trapped in a Gargano Escape!

Kline’s fingers claw at the mat… He desperately reaches for the ropes…

JC: Kline can’t make it! He’s dead to rights, center of the ring!

…Slowly, Syn gets back up…

And leaps onto the top turnbuckle!

DIVING CROSSBODY ONTO KLINE AND GARCIA!


The trio end up in a huge, multi-person pileup!

JC: Huge move by Syn! But possibly miscalculation there! If he’d waited just a few more seconds, Kline might have been eliminated!

BG: If he’d waited a few more seconds, he might have missed Garcia, Jacko! Think before you speak!

All three bodies lie exhausted catching their breath on the mat… As Jolee recovers in the corner…

Wish, whose been playing possum for minutes, realizes he’s probably the freshest man in the match at this point! He springs out of the corner, looking fresh as a daisy!

Syn tries to shove his way off the mat, to take advantage after that dynamic crossbody! He tries to scoop Garcia off the mat…

But Wish delivers a boot to his gut! He hooks Syn into a front facelock, looking for a Hideyaface…

When Solomon Kline springs off the mat! And catches Wish in the face!

ASHES TO ASHES! (popup forearm smash)

Wish tries to retreat back into the corner to wait for his next opening…

Not realizing he’s backed into a corner that Tatiana Jolee is rising out of!

In a flash, Jolee has wrapped her arm around Wish’s throat!

AND DRAGS HIM TO THE MAT BY THE THROAT!


THE CALGARY CRIPPLER (Captain’s Hook)

…In just a few short seconds, Wish’s face is turning purple from lack of oxygen!

HE TAPS!

ELIMINATED: TOMMY WISH!

JC: And Tommy Wish, the opportunist, is out!

BG: Man, I was sure he was gonna go all the way!

Across the ring, Kline is taking the opportunity to lay forearm after forearm to the top of Syn’s skull…

Syn crabwalks back to the ropes and latches onto the bottom one to break Kline’s desperate assault!

Matthias Syn loses 1 rope break. He has 1 remaining.

JC: Matthias Syn using his second rope break! Will that cost him!?!

The official admonishes Kline to let Syn recover by the ropes… But Kline grabs Syn by the ankle, trying to drag him off the ropes himself!

Syn clings on for dear life… before reeling back his foot… and BOOTING Kline’s in the face!

Kline somersaults backward to the center of the ring…

Where Garcia just rose off the mat…

The Mad Bull latches his arms from behind Kline…

GRAND FINALE! (Blade Runner!)

Kline gets dropped straight onto his head, before rolling onto his back, as Garcia hooks the leg!

1!

2!

THREE!

ELIMINATED: SOLOMON KLINE!

JC: And then there were three!

Garcia slowly gets off the mat…

Just as Syn springs off the ropes and grabs Garcia from behind!

Synthe-

FWIP!

Nope! Garcia shoves his way over of Syn’s grip! Syn rebounds off the ropes!

Garcia aims a clothesline… But Syn ducks under it…

He looks to hit the opposite ropes, building speed against Garcia…

When from the corner, Jolee leaps out! Flying shoulder block to the XWF Revolution Champion!

Syn goes down like a slinky down the stairs from Jolee’s flying shoulder strike!

Jolee tries to grab Syn by the throat, looking for a Calgary Crippler…

When Garcia grabs her from behind! Looking for another Grand Fin-

…But Jolee goes down to her knees, slipping out of Garcia’s grip… Then slides between his legs, get position from behind!

JC: Tatiana Jolee is lightning quick!

Before Garcia can even process what’s happening, Jolee has sprung into…

THE CALGARY CRIPPLER!

Jolee rotates, Garcia’s face is straight down against the mat as Jolee continues to torque Garcia’s spine as hard as she can…

Garcia’s hand extends…

It hovers over the mat!

…

……

BUT IT REACHES OUT AND GRABS THE ROPE!

Adam Garcia loses 1 rope break. He has 2 remaining.

JC: Adam Garcia uses his first rope break of this match!

BG: And if he hadn’t? That would have been it for him!

Garcia sputters and coughs from the mat… Jolee stands, waiting for Garcia to release the ropes, so she can execute the exact sa-

From behind, a boot to the calf! From Matthias Syn!

JC: Oh no!

Matthias Syn latches Jolee into guillotine position!

SYNTHESIS!

…COUNTERED! Tatiana slips out of the guillotine position and boots Syn in the gut!

JC: Phew! Close call for the hometown hero!

Syn throws a desperation forearm smash to keep TJ from coiling… but she catches his arm and kicks out Syn’s leg to weaken his vertical base!

She’s got him spun around… She almost locked in the Calg-

WHAM! From behind, Adam Garcia launches a kick to the spine of Tatiana Jolee!

JC: Oh no!

Jolee doubles backwards… Garcia charges in to grapple Jo-

WHAM! She throws a desperation backfist, which connects, driving Garcia back toward the ropes!

JC: Amazingly, Jolee refuses to cede control to either of her two remaining competitors!

Jolee pushes herself forward, wrapping Garcia around the neck for a head-and-arm sup-

WHAM! From behind *again*! Syn catches Jolee’s spine with a running knee!

BG: There it is, Jacko! The most devastating knee in the business!

JC: According to Syn, you mean.

BG: Bar none!



Jolee seethes in pain, dropping to one knee… Garcia shoves her backward as Syn backpedals to the center of the ring!

Syn catches Jolee back into guillotine position!

SYNTHESIS!

…

CONNECTS!

Jolee’s skull REBOUNDS OFF THE MAT!

Syn, not sparing a moment rapidly pins, hooking the leg!

The official counts!

1!

2!

THREE!

ELIMINATED: TATIANA JOLEE!

JC: And then there were two! It took the combined efforts of Adam Garcia and Matthias Syn, but together, they took out the former Purity Champion, Tatiana Jolee!

BG: Somehow, I don’t think their union will flourish now it’s down to the two of them!

The crowd rises to their feet, absolutely electric for the end of this match!

Matthias Syn and Adam Garcia stood across from each other, both men drenched in sweat, their chests heaving.

Syn’s fingers twitched at his sides, his lips curling into a confident smirk, though the subtle rise and fall of his shoulders betrayed his exhaustion. Garcia, jaw clenched, rolled his neck, his hands flexing as he took slow, deliberate breaths, recalibrating.

JC: No love loss between these two, Brody!

BG: Absolutely, Adam wants to even the score between him and Syn! And Syn wants to continue lording over Garcia that Adam has never once scored a victory over him!

Syn and Garcia circle, their steps measured.

Syn feigns a lunge, hoping to force Garcia into a defensive flinch, but Garcia holds firm, his gaze unblinking. Instead of reacting to Syn’s bait, Garcia shot low, his left foot sliding forward as he reached for Syn’s right leg.

JC: Great discipline on display here by Garcia! Not getting psyched out by Syn’s attack!

Syn’s smirk vanished as Garcia latched onto his leg and pulled hard. Off-balance, Syn wobbled, arms flailing for a fraction of a second…

JC: Syn is in the ring with a judokah champion! He’s gotta do something to avoid getting twisted like a pretzel here!

Suddenly, Syn twisted his body and rolled through, turning the takedown attempt into a smooth escape! As Garcia planted his knee for control, Syn spun behind him, threading an arm around his neck.

Koji Clutch locked in!

JC: Wow! What a counter by Syn! He pulled that one outta nowhere!

BG: Don’t be disrespectful, Jacko! Syn is a mindgames MASTER! He’s known exactly what he’s been doing this entire match! If he countered Garcia’s move, it was deliberate and set in motion, possibly WEEKS ago!

Syn clamped down, legs tightening around Garcia’s torso while wrenching his neck backward. Garcia’s eyes went wide, his arms flailing before gripping Syn’s forearm, trying to pry it off. His face contorted in pain, his body twisting violently, but Syn only cinched it in deeper.

The official barks at Garcia, asking if he wants to break the hold!

BG: Imagine the dirt Syn will be able to fling at Garcia if he makes a so-called judokah master tap out!

JC: Brody, you’re salivating right now.

Garcia’s boots dug into the mat as he planted his elbows, forcing his weight forward, then twisted his body sideways. The sudden shift in leverage allowed him to drag himself and Syn closer to the ropes. With one final stretch of his leg, Garcia hooked his boot onto the bottom rope!

Adam Garcia loses 1 rope break. He has 1 remaining.

JC: Adam uses another rope break! Both remaining competitors now only have one left!

The referee immediately called for the break!

Syn released the hold but kept his grip on Garcia’s head, his fingers pressing into Garcia’s scalp as he rose to his feet. He yanked Garcia up along with him…

Garcia presses his hand against Syn’s chest, trying to shove his way out…

But Syn intentionally widens his stance, to strengthen his vertical base… as he planted his foot and dropped backward— SNAP DDT!

Garcia’s head spiked off the canvas, his body bouncing from the impact before flopping motionless!

The crowd is screaming! This could be it!

Syn, his chest heaving, quickly rolled him over and hooked the leg.

1!




2!





THREE!


….


BUT GARCIA’S FOOT FINDS THE ROPE!

Adam Garcia loses 1 rope break. He has NONE remaining.

At the last possible moment, Garcia’s ankle again perches on the bottom rope!

JC: Incredible ring awareness by Garcia! Syn didn’t pull him away from the ropes before launching that Snap DDT and Garcia manages to survive!

BG: But he just burned his last rope break, Jacko! Syn has this one CLINCHED!

Syn’s eyes flared with frustration as he sat up, shaking his head. He wiped a forearm across his face, flicking sweat away as he exhaled sharply through his nose.

Gritting his teeth, Syn pulled Garcia up again, keeping his grip tight around Garcia’s head. This time, he stepped forward and whipped Garcia toward the corner, looking for another Reverse STO into the middle turnbuckle!

But just before impact, Garcia braced his arms against the ropes and blocked the collision!

JC: Incredible reflexes by Garcia! He just saved his head from getting caved in!

Syn rushes in to perpetuate the attack on Garcia!

…But Garcia rotates perfectly around his opponent! Syn is now trapped in the corner!

Syn throws a desperation forearm to back Garcia off… But Garcia dips down wrapped his arms around Syn’s waist and snapped him backward!

TIGER SUPLEX!

JC: WOW! What a manuever! And Syn just got scrambled away from the ropes! There’s no way to break the pin!

Syn’s body folds like an accordion as he hit the mat, his legs momentarily hanging over his shoulders before flopping flat on his back! Garcia bridges backwards into a pin!

The official counts!

1!






2!







THREEEEEEENOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Just in the nick of time, Syn kicks out!

BG: YES! Ohmygod, I almost had a heart attack!

JC: A close call for Matthias Syn! He had to dig deep to find the will to force his shoulders off the mat there!

Syn kicked out just in time, his back arching as he rolled onto his stomach, his face contorted in pain. Garcia, meanwhile, collapses facedown on the mat from Syn’s kickout… clearly thinking what the Hell he has to do to put this one away…

Both men remained down, their chests rising and falling in sharp, ragged breaths. The referee checked on them as the crowd rallied behind the action.

THIS IS WRESTLING! *clap clap clapclapclap*

THIS IS WRESTLING! *clap clap clapclapclap*

JC: Both of these men have been through blood and carnage here tonight! You gotta imagine at this point, victory means everything!

BG: Absolutely, Jacko! First place is a ticket stamped to the main event! A chance at the Television Title! Second place just means FIRST LOSER!

Syn was the first to stir, blinking rapidly as he pushed himself up onto one knee. He dragged his arm across his mouth, licking his lips as he slowly turned his gaze to Garcia, who was using the ropes to pull himself upright.

Syn’s body tensed—this was his opening.

With a sudden burst of energy, he pushed off his back foot and lunged forward—HIGH KNEE!

BG: There it is! The most DEVASTATING KNEE in all of wres-

But Garcia’s reflexes were razor-sharp. He ducked!

BG: NO!

Syn’s knee missed by inches, and the momentum carried him forward into the ropes.

Garcis spins, bracing himself, as Syn’s body rebounds violently off the ropes towards him

In one swift, immediate motion, Garcia catches Syn in a full nelson! AND SLAMS HIM BACKWARDS OVER HIS HEAD!

GRAND FINALE!

...

Is countered! Syn breaks Garcia's grip, and spins him into guillotine position...

SYNTHESIS!

JC: OH MY GOD! This could be it!

Garcia's body crashed against the mat, lifeless. His limbs twitched briefly before going still…

Syn, drained but fueled by instinct, crawled over and hooked both legs deep.

1!






2!







GARCIA’S HAND SPRINGS TO LIFE! HE GRABS THE ROPE!

…

BUT HE'S OUT OF ROPE BREAKS!

THREE!

WINNER: Matthias Syn

JC: Oh my God! What a war! What an absolute war tonight! Each of these competitor’s fed their body’s straight into the meat grinder! But, six competitors enter and ONE LEAVES! And tonight, that man is Matthias Syn!

---

END OF YEAR AWARDS! LOCKER ROOM LEADER: AURORA! A video is shown of Aurora getting ready for her match in the locker room of all places! The crowd pop as she is shown warming up. STORYLINE OF THE YEAR! DOLLY WATERS: MISTY WATERS TAKEOVER! Footage of past promos and matches is shown highlighting key moments culminating with Dolly's match against Sebastian Everett-Bryce

---

The scene opens outside of the Scotiabank Saddledome where the XWF production trucks are parked. James Shark is seen walking towards the arena, dripped out in gold as usual. Suddenly he stops in his tracks and starts to laugh as he covers his mouth.

“Oh y’all have got to be shittin’ me… ain’t no way”

He shakes his head and walks further, the camera now spinning around so the fans can see exactly what he sees. A row of fifteen security guards, blocking the private entrance. Shark puts his hands up as he walks towards them as if to say he comes in peace.

“This a little bit dramatic don’t y’all think? If all of you here to protect the cornball that is Peter Principle then y’all wastin’ your time. I woke up a new man today. I don’t give a damn about that dude no more. Beefin’ with him give me nothing but bad luck alright? So I’ll swallow the L on this one. I been eatin’ a whole lot of em’ anyways.”

Shark tries to make his way past them but they block him.

“You’re not welcomed inside Mr. Shark”

“What the hell you mean I ain’t welcomed inside? How the hell am I supposed to wrestle tonight!?”

The security officers turn their heads and looks at one another as if wondering who’s going to break the news to him, suddenly one of them speaks out.

“You’re not booked on the show tonight and you’re banned from entering this building.”

Shark stares at them blankly, his mouth wide open. The fans could be heard reacting to the news by booing from inside the arena.

“Man, I cannot believe this SHIT. Y’all gonna move out my goddamn way.”

“Mr. Shark, let’s not make this more difficult than it already is.”

“Shut up. I’m about to walk forward and if anyone touches me they swallowing their teeth. Y’all really trying to go through all that for minimum pay?”

Some guards stand their ground while others seemingly begin to back off. Shark steps forward until one of the guards in the middle nod their head towards something behind Shark. Shark looks over his shoulder and sees a nearby police car stationed by the production trucks.

“Fighting us would reflect poorly on your upcoming court case. You wouldn’t want another charge would you?”

Shark glares at the guard then over at the police car. He starts to contemplate his decision before yelling out loud.

“FUCK!!!!”

Shark turns around and kicks a trash can over before storming off. Some of the guards let out a sigh of relief as he leaves.

---

All lights in the arena go dark and James Hetfield's opening vocals of Metallica's "The Memory Remains" blares suddenly over the public announce speakers. A minimal yet vocal minority of the fans in attendance shout the first lyrics aloud along with the singer:


The lights and the big screen both stay completely black. A single word appears on the screen:




The guitar and drums come crashing in, along with the rest of the instrumental section. Soon after a mako green spotlight shines down upon the stage where Aurora herself is now standing. She’s wearing a mask that covers her face in what looks like old, pitted cast iron. Her hands and wrists are taped in all black tape and her silver-colored hair is pulled back into a ponytail. A smoke machine billows from beneath her, partially obscuring the view.

Rochelle Adams: Making her way to the ring at this time, she hails from Arizona Bay. Ladies and Gentlemen, AURORA!

JC: Aurora in action tonight after she and Lucy Wylde put on one HELL of a match at Snow Holds Barred!

BG: One that she lost, Jacko! That seems to be an ongoing theme with Aurora! She comes oh-so-close, but can’t quite get the job done!

JC: Hmm. Regardless, she still has a recent win over the longest reigning XWF tag-team chakpions under her belt! And she won that Fatal 4-Way match for 2500 Xbux! And even in defeat, Aurora has constantly fought all the way to the bitter end! And we’ve seen it before, Brody! One small tweak, one infinitesimal change! Is all it takes to create a streak that can carry someone to the top of the XWF!

Aurora walks through the smoke and down to and around the ring with purpose, moving all of the way around to the southeast ring post before pulling herself up onto the ring apron. She centers herself on the apron and stands facing the crowd. Another glowing emerald spotlight shines straight down on her as laser-lights mimic the northern lights onto the smoke that has gathered around the ceiling of the arena. She pauses for a few moments staring upward before turning and entering the ring.

"In the Face of Evil" by Magic Sword reverberates over the PA. Row after row, aisle to aisle, fans rise from their seats throughout the arena and cheer, knowing one of their workhorses is about to appear!

As the second, third, and fourth chords of the theme reverberate, three spotlights shine down, one over another: A green circle, a gold triangle over it, and a crimson line intersecting the other two. On the X-Tron, his monikers cycle through one after another:




From there, the beat triggers the house lights to illuminate the figure of Larry Tact standing on stage. He's looking down as he hones in for the battle ahead.

After a few seconds, Tact whips his head up and trudges to one side of the stage, firing up the fans by pointing towards different sections. He goes to the other side of the stage and beats his chest with a hand before opening his arms to the reaction of the crowd. "THIS IS YOUR SPOTLIGHT!" Larry bellows as the audience hoots and hollers back. He returns to center stage and points to either side of the crowd. The lights cut out except for green, gold, and crimson spotlights highlighting the audience in attendance. Larry makes his way down to the ring, pounding fists with some fans at ringside before hanging onto the middle rope and pulling himself up onto the apron.

BG: HERE’S WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT! Larry Tact! You wanna talk Snow Holds Barred? This guy absolute MURDER-DEATH-KILLED an XWF LEGEND at Snow Holds Barred! XWF Owner and former Universal Champion, ‘Loverboy’ Vinnie Lane, was made to look like a SCRUB by Larry Tact!

JC: Brody, Lane still signs your checks.

BG: …While I wish Mister Lane the speediest recovery… Even he’s gotta admit, Larry Tact was IMPRESSIVE in his debut! And he’s about to rack up another win tonight!

JC: We’ll see about that, Brody!

Facing the stands, he opens his arms up and puffs his chest out to receive the feverish energy of his supporters. Wiping his boots on the apron, Tact proceeds into the ring. He climbs a turnbuckle and again holds his arms out. “BEST GAME WINS!!!” he exclaims to another pop before descending and making his final preparations for the match.

The tension in the arena is thick as Aurora and Larry Tact stand across from each other. Aurora shifts her weight from foot to foot, her fingers twitching at her sides—a telltale sign that she’s calculating, measuring. Larry, in contrast, stands relaxed, his shoulders loose, but his eyes hold a quiet, knowing confidence. He’s been here before. He’s faced countless challengers.

The bell rings.

AURORA - vs - LARRY TACT Singles Match

Aurora’s brow furrows as she lunges forward, leading with a feint to the left before pivoting sharply—spinning heel kick!

Larry’s eyes widen for half a second before he tilts his head just enough to avoid the brunt of the blow. The edge of Aurora’s boot still clips his shoulder, but he absorbs it with a sideroll!

Tact straightens back upright off the mat, his lips pressing into a thin smirk—clearly calculating counters in consideration of Aurora’s quickness.

Aurora’s expression hardens.

JC: Aurora, obviously trying to keep the pace frenetic in the early going! She’s very aware that Tact is most dangerous when he has time to ‘tactilize’!

BG: 100% sure that’s not a word, Jacko.

Aurora springs forth again, catching Tact off-guard! She plants a foot on the mat, and leaps!

Step-up enzuigiri!

JC: That violence was artful! You could hang that kick in a gallery!

Rather than even try to dodge, Larry daringly sticks his head forward, braces his jaw.

The impact from Aurora’s kick rattles his skull… He stutter-steps back into the ropes, keeping his footing!

JC: Veteran move by Tact! He knows laying with your back on the mat is no-man’s land against an opponent like Aurora, so he opts to backpedal to the ropes! Staying upright at all costs!

Larry leans on the ropes, shaking out the daze that Aurora served with that boot to his skull!

Aurora’s eyes flicker, enticed by the opening to strike! She rushes in, looking for a flying leg lariat to deck Tact over the top rope…

But, in a flash, Larry shoves himself off the ropes, meeting the charging Aurora!

JC: Whoa! Larry comes at Aurora! We’ve got two freight trains on the same track!

BG: Is Tact’s strategy every move just to get hit?!? How is that ‘tactilizing’!

Aurora leaps into the air, drawing her leg where Tact’s face is heading!

Tact’s face betrays ZERO emotion…

But his muscles imperceptibly coil—he ducks!

JC: Wow! Tact pulled off that dodge without a single physical cue! That can only come with years of experience in the ring!

Aurora soars past him… As she’s airborne, her body contorts in midair, landing with a roll!

JC: Absolutely catlike reflexes by Aurora! A less capable competitor might have wiped out on the mat!

Aurora bounces off the ropes, turning back toward the action!

…But, Larry is already closing in on her! His smirk is gone, replaced with a calculating stare!

Aurora slides her arms in front of her face, bracing for a strike!

Larry lunges forward…

Past his opponent, whose still standing close to the ropes…

Aurora spins around, trying to defend…

But Tact gets downhill past her defenses! Aurora barely has time to gasp before…

CLOTHESLINE! The impact from Tact’s forearm flips Aurora inside out! She lands HARD on her face!

BG: Ooooooof! You wanna talk about a wipeout, Jack, the wave that is Larry Tact just turned into a tsunami on the Island village of Aurora!

Aurora cradles the metal plate in her skull… clearly that flip might have done some damage from the inside of her head.

Larry leans backward against the ropes, as he looks down at his opponent.

JC: Larry Tact, using every veteran tool in his toolbag! By leaning against the ropes, he’s giving himself a breather to recovery after that fast-break bit of offense!

BG: Mister Tactful sees no need to rush! He’s got Aurora right where he wants her!

JC: …Mister Tactful?

BG: I have to make up new nicknames for him! A lawyer from the Tact Empire told me if I call him any of his names that are registered trademarks, I owe Larry a nickel.

Tact takes a deep breath, his chest rising and falling evenly.

Aurora shakes her aching head, gripping her ribs as she tries to shove off the mat…

The moment she’s up to one knee, Tact shoves back off the ropes.

Tact reaches down, methodically pulling her to her feet, his grip firm but deliberate.

…In a flash, Aurora slips behind Tact! Standing switch!

JC: Wow! Aurora is quicker than I could come up with a metaphor to describe it!

BG: She could take ten full seconds to execute a kick and she’d still move faster than you can think, Jack.

Aurora wraps her arms around Tact’s waist, trying to use leverage to german suplex him into the air…

But, Tact snaps forward! Like a game of Ring around the Rosey, Tact accelerates forward, through Aurora’s hands, out of Aurora’s grip!

JC: Tact simply shoves his way out of Aurora’s waistlock! Did Aurora not have a good grip there, Brody?

BG: Understatement of the century, Jack. Aurora’s got a notoriously weak grip from an old neck surgery! She was trying to use physics to get Tact off his feet, but Tact targeted her wrists to break out of tha hold! Leave to ol’ Tacteria to study up on Aurora’s medical history before going into this match!

Tact rotates, snatching Aurora’s arm, and twists it behind his back! He twists his foot in between her legs, wrapping his arms like a octopus…

Tact starts twisting her arm for an abdominal streeeeeeeeeeetch!

JC: OUCH! That maneuever is absolutely devastating to Aurora’s back! That’s going to reduce her recovery after Tact’s big impact moves!

BG: Not only that Jacko, but these submission moves are letting Tact control the pace of this match! He’s keeping it slow and close, exactly the way Aurora doesn’t want it to be!

Aurora grits her teeth and tries to twist free—

But, as Aurora tries to slip out, Larry’s hold only tightens. His eyes narrow. He saw that coming. He wrenches her sideways, muscles flexing as he smoothly transitions—abdominal streeeeeeeeeeeeeetch!

JC: Oh God! This is the wrestling equivalent of a medieval torture rack!

BG: Not to be confused with the wrestling move called the torture rack, which, in terms of physical damage, is actually more akin to a Catherine Wheel

Aurora’s body bows unnaturally, her teeth clenching as she sucks in shallow breaths. Pain flares through her ribs!

The official asks if she’d like to submit… But Aurora refuses to let out a sound!

Larry continues to torque Aurora’s spine backward!

Aurora’s legs sidestep… trying to secure Larry into a hip toss position…

But, like a cowboy at the rodeo, Tact moseys to keep her legs wrapped around his…

BG: Tact is in complete control! Every move of Aurora’s, he’s got a scouted way to counteract it so far!

JC: He may have Aurora in the hold… But Aurora has shifted Tact closer to the ropes!

Indeed, as Tact bends his opponent backward… Aurora’s fingers sit inches away from the ropes!

While the official continues to bark at Aurora, asking if she can continue, her fingers stretch toward the ropes, her jaw twitching with effort.

JC: Aurora, fighting through the pain! If the quit in her were a liquid, you could take it through airport security!

BG: …Cuz, wait she has less than three ounces of quit? Jesus, Jacko, get a writer.

Larry glances down at her, his lips pressing into a thin line, observing his opponent’s refusal to give up.

As Aurora desperately tries to push herself to latch the ropes… Tact takes another breath, shifts his stance…

And in a flash, Tact suddenly hoists Aurora up into the air…

AND ONTO HER BACK!

Abdominal stretch into a side slam!

Aurora’s back smacks the mat with a sickening thud.

JC: Wow! Tact may be 44, but when he knows where he wants his opponent to go, he can get ‘em there in a split-second!

…Aurora’s arm smacks the mat, as if trying to keep her body going through the agony… Arm over arm, she tries to crawl back to her feet…

Larry’s eyes flicker with something cold—he’s getting inside her head. He drops to a knee, looping an arm around her throat and rolling onto his back—Million Dollar Dream!

BG: Another submission hold by Tact! Sapping the life out of Aurora, bit by bit!

Tact manages to squeezes his bicep around Aurora’s throat! Her arm shakes above her head as her eyelids flutter and her chest heaves!

Desperately, Aurora’s hands weakly grasp at Larry’s forearm, nails digging into his skin… but her weak grip can’t pierce…

BG: This one could be over!

Suddenly, Aurora flattens her hand, shoving off Tact’s arm! Tact clinches on, trying to reel Aurora back to the center of the ring!

But, like a fish on the book, Aurora flops for dear life! Her legs search…

…

And her ankle manages to wrap against the rope!

JC: Phew! Aurora refuses to let this match slip out of her fingers!

BG: Unlike anything else that ends up in her fingers!

The ref yells for the break.

…

Nothing doing!

Larry exhales through his nose, holding the Million Dollar Dream as Aurora thrashes and whips herself in his grip!

JC: What’s Tact doing here?!? Let ‘er go!

BG: He has ‘til five, Jacko! That’s not even cheating, that’s just wrestling rules!

Two!

Three

Four!

Fi-

Right at four-and-a-half, Tact releases the hold! Aurora hits the mat, against the ropes she latched her ankle around, sputtering as air rushes back into her lungs…

Tact leans against the ropes again, hovering over his opponent

JC: Tact seems to want to stay as close to his opponent as possible! He knows he’s wearing her down!

Aurora coughs, rolling to her side, blinking away the haze…

The official gets between Larry and Aurora, barking that she’s in the ropes!

Larry takes a step back, not taking his eyes off his opponent, his expression unreadable.

Then, the moment Aurora pushes herself off the mat, onto her hands and knees…

Tact sidesteps the referee from behind!

He grabs her waist from above. Lifts her into the air!

…Gut-wrench suplex!

Aurora crashes down again to the mat, her breath escaping in a ragged huff. Her ribs are screaming.

Tact seems pleased with what he’s done…

He hooks the leg, driving his forearm into his opponent’s face!

The official counts!

1!

2!

THR-NO!

Aurora rolls a shoulder off the mat!

JC: Aurora refuses to stay down so as her heart is beating in her chest!

Aurora tries to shove herself up off the mat…

When, in a flash, Tact grabs her from behind, lifting her into a full nelson!

Aurora’s eyes widen—aware she’s in trouble! She flails her legs, trying to shake free, but Larry tightens his grip—FULL NELSON SLAM!

She lands hard, her limbs splay outward as there’s an audible THUMP when her spine clatters against the canvas!

BG: Holy halibut! After a certain point, ya gotta stay down, just so you can still get up some day!

JC: Not Aurora!

Aurora rolls… admittedly slowly onto her side… One rotation closer to the ropes… Before she lies back on the mat, her chest heaving exhausted…

BG: She might be outta juice, Jacko! She doesn’t even have the strength to make it outside the ring to buy some recovery time!

Larry finally cracks a grin, securely confident. He leans over her, stacking all his weight across her shoulders!

The official counts!

1!

2!

THREEEEEEEE!

…

But Aurora slung her foot on the bottom rope!

JC: Hoho, Brody! Aurora made it right where she needed to, in range of the ropes to break the pin! She’s got fight in her yet!

The crowd starts to clamor for Aurora… Hoping she’ll find a way back into this match!

Larry sighs from the mat. Fine, he’s more than willing to keep inflicting this pain.

Tact hauls Aurora up off her feet, grabbing her wrist… Irish whip towards the corner!

…

But a couple steps away, Aurora plants her feet to slam on the brakes!

JC: Aurora clearly done being manhandled! She’s choosing her moment to refuse the flow of Tact’s irish whip!

Larry blinks—not expecting it after all he’s done to Aurora! He catches himself letting her recovery and scrambles forward to grapple Aurora from behind…

Aurora leaps into a backflip!

PELE KICK TO THE TOP OF TACT’S SKULL!

JC: Wow! We were talking about museums earlier, that move could be in the Louvre!

Larry staggers, his head snapping back… Leaning down at the waist!

Aurora sees her opening and she will NOT miss the change to take it!

She sprints to the ropes, and sails through the air!

STARBUST SONATA!

…

But Larry backs himself out of the way! Aurora’s stomps hits nothing but mat!

JC: Noooooo!

BG: Tact, that wily veteran, baited Aurora’s finishing move! She went for it in desperation and now the momentum’s back in Tact’s hands!

Aurora stumbles to her knees, running on fumes! She tries to shove back off the mat!

But Tact does not hesitate!

Larry grabs her from behind, lifting her into torture rack position! He walks her to the center of the ring as the crowd gets on their feet, ready to see the Tactilizer!

JC: Oh no! Aurora’s in major trouble, sitting in that torture rack position!

BG: Which, again, should probably be renam-

JC: Oh, hush.

Tact howls with emotion, as he pushes Aurora off the torture rack onto his head, into  powerbomb position!

TACTILIZEEEEEEEER!

…

Is reversed! Aurora leans backwards and catches Larry in a hurricanrana, drawing him toward the ropes!

JC: Oh my God! Aurora pulls off a marvelous counter!

BG: Get ‘er, Larry!

Larry shoves off the ropes, looking for a clothesline!

Aurora ducks the strike!

Larry puts on the brakes and spins to grapple her from behind!

But Aurora pulls off a mule kick! Catching Tact in the ribs! Tact bends over again…

The crowd hoops and hollers, anticipating Aurora’s next move!

Aurora rebounds off the ropes! Is she going for Starburst Sonata!?!

JC: Oh my god, this finish is getting crazy! Both these competitors are going all-in!

Aurora bounces!

She dashes for Larry, leaping through the air!

…

Larry lifts his head again!

…

STRAIGHT INTO AURORA’S KNEE! ENTROPY BLADE!

The crowd goes nuts as Tact collapses into the ropes!

JC: Amazing! Tact might have played possum once too often and Aurora was ready to catch him with a knee to the face!

Tact rebounds off the ropes, falling to one knee!

As Aurora, smooth as silk, bounces off the opposite ropes and leaps again!

STARBURST SONATA!

…

CONNECTS!

The crowd goes absolutely nuts as Larry’s head bounces off the mat! His body goes slack!

Aurora collapses on top of him!

1!

2!

…

LARRY SPRINGS HIS BACK UP OFF THE MAT!

…

AT THREE-AND-A-HALF!

WINNER: AURORA

JC: OH MY GOD! YESSSSS!

BG: What?!? No, h-...Tact kicked out!

JC: After the three! Aurora pulls off the win!

Aurora falls backward against the mat, completely spent, covering her face as the crowd screams with approval for the match they just watched.

Larry cradles his head, holding up two fingers to the official… The zebra shakes his head, holding three back!He blinks, eyes locking onto the lights above, calculating where he went wrong and what to do next time!

JC: That was an amazing fight! Larry Tact, legend of the wrestling world, put on a clinic tonight! An absolute masterclass in ring generalship!

But, Aurora REFUSED to lose! She fought for every inch she could… And somehow, some way she secures the win!

BG: You… you just wait, Jack! Like you said before the match, it only takes one change to flip a result! Tact is going to strategize, reorganize, and next time, Aurora will get GUTTED!

JC: Well, toni-

BG: AND THAT’S A TACT FACT!

…

JC: Ton-

BG: I GET THE LAST WORD! GO TO COMMERCIAL!

---

Outside Peter Principle’s Office

Peter sits in his chair, his feet up on his desk, hands behind his head, looking reeeeeeeeeeal relaxed.

Nadine, his assistant, knocks before entering.

”Uh, sir? Mister Shark is circling the building in his vehicle. Security wants to know what to do?”

”Hey, he can stay out there all he wants!” Peter grins cheerfully. ”So long as he’s not in here!”

---

[TALKING HEAD]

”So, Snow Holds Barred? Went AMAZING! The Revolution was defeatedl AND I didn’t have to give Shark his belts back!”

“I *basically* pitched a perfect game!”

“For a second there, it felt like everyone was going to turn into a giant clusterfudge… And then, in a flash?”

“Everything worked itself out!”

Principle beams with pride.

”For a second there, I was worried all these problems meant I was a bad General Manager… Turns out I’m the best one ever!”

---

Another knock on the door!

”Don’t worry so much, Nadine! Everything is g-”

…Principle stops.

It is, in fact, not Principle’s assistant, Nadine.

But, instead, Warfare Assistant GM, Pip Collins.

”Oh!” Principle smiles. ”Nice of you to drop by on… short notice!”

Pip Collins grins. ”Nice one. Although, it would probably work better if *you* asked me to come here. Then, I’d be dropping by on short notice.”

”Don’t get… SHORT with me!”

…Pip’s lips straighten. ”Okay, that one does actually work in context.”

Peter’s eyes shine at the smallest hint of recognition. ”Oh! Well, uh… Don’t SHORT… um…”

”Quit while you’re ahead.”

Principle nods, absolutely basking in joy.

Collins’s eyes narrow, intrigued. ”What are you so happy about? Aren’t you concerned about Shark murdering you?”

”That’s just it! I figured it out!” Principle leans over his desk, excited to share his brilliant solution! ”Shark can’t kill me if he’s not allowed in the building!”

”...What?”

”I’M in here… And HE’S out there! With security preventing him from entering the building!” Principle taps his head. ”Ergo, I’m completely safe!”

…

”Mmmm.” Pip Collins strokes his chin thoughtfully.

…

”Excuse me for one second, I have to send a text.” Collins walks out of Principle’s office.

”What, no long goodbye?” Principle calls as Collins walks out. ”Er, no short… What a short… Dammit, it’s right there. What could I s-”

RIIIIIIIIIIIIING! Suddenly, Principle’s desk phone rings.

Principle snatches it off the desk.

”Y’ello! Peter Principle, World’s Best General Manag-”

…

Suddenly, Principle’s face goes white!

”Oh! Mister Thad! Er, Duke, I mean! The COO! I am so glad you called!” Principle starts brushing empty cups and trash off his desk as if the boss was in the room with him!

”Yes! I am! Because, you must be calling to tell me what a great job I’ve d-”

…

”...Whaddya mean, am I out of my mind?”

…

Peter’s eyes widen.

”How did you hear about me banning Shark from the arena?!?”

…

Peter shakes his head.

”No, sir! You don’t understand! He disrespected me, so now? I’m showing him who’s boss! He can come to work when he’s willing to respect my authority!”

….

”Yes, I understand he’s under contract, b-”

…

”Yes, I get the XWF is not paying him to sit outside the arena and twiddle h-”

…

”Well, sir, it’s already done! I already told security not to let him in!”

…

”YOU TOLD THEM TO LET HIM IN!!!”

As Peter gets an earful from Thad, he switches the channel on a little TV on his desk…

At the docking area, the XWF security team is parting ways…

And JAMES SHARK IS IN THE BUILDING!

…

The camera pans up…

Principle’s phone is dangling over his desk…

”Hello? Principle? You still there?”

He is, in fact, not.

---

END OF YEAR AWARDS! RETURN OF THE YEAR: MADISON DYSON! Footage is shown of Dyson's return to regular competition back at Relentless XXV and her highlights through to the end of the year. NEWCOMER OF THE YEAR: JOHNNY BACCHUS! Highlights of Bacchus' debut and dominating X-Treme title run are shown on the X-Tron.

---

B L A C K.

A distorted march and shrill, ear-splitting violins attack the mass of attendants with visceral intent, triggering a contentious wave of hateful screams and wails. The music builds, and builds, until GORGO's voice ECHOES throughout the arena…


CUT TO: THE STAGE.

A Perfect Circle's COUNTING BODIES LIKE SHEEP violently assaults the listeners with its droning march as SMOKE AND RUIN crawls across the platform in strobing white light. A single spotlight shines down to center stage as Maynard begins singing the first verse.

From below, GORGO slowly rises out of the stage surrounded in dark haze and flashing light. Blonde hair is smeared black with grease and hangs in wet tangles. Face painted black and white and marked with pagan symbology. White eyes outlined in black. Their smile, their awful smile, stretched into a hideous, crazed grin. Muscular shoulders and arms, but with feminine curves in all the right places, covered in black smeared grease paint. Their perfect, terrifying form elevates to the stage level with their shoulders heaving and body twisted into a grotesque, animalistic hunch.

They are YELENA GORGO. The Woman Who Laughs. The Mama-san. The Mad Queen.


They begin walking down the aisle but with a strange gate, more like a prowling animal, all while twisted giggles escape their mouth like a jackal's cry, causing their shoulders to hunch up and down with each hee-haw. Everyone watches their every movement. Shrieks and boos spew out of the mouths of everyone in attendance. All of them have nothing but utter contempt and disgust for Gorgo but every single one of them is standing to get a glimpse of them.

Gorgo crawls on their belly under the bottom rope and then pulls themself across the canvas to the middle of the ring. They sit up on their knees and then bend at the waist awkwardly backward, like a contortionist possessed by the devil. Then, suddenly, they lurch forward and let out a primal, howling, death metal scream with every muscle contracted and veins bulging outward through their skin as the house lights rise.


BG: And first, the challenger, Yelena Gorgo. She has to be counting her blessings.

JC: If you mean that, after her amazing victory in the Snow Holds Barred Fatal-Four way vs. Blade, Kline, and Enigma, she earned the number one contendership status to the Television Championship, and now could walk out with two titles tonight, then yes. I’m sure a lot of fighters in the back would love to be in her position.

BG: I wasn’t saying that she got lucky in that way. She absolutely earned the shot here tonight. It’s just, Nickles did all of the work to bring the Xtreme title into this. And Thaddeus Duke is dropping the opportunity of a lifetime on this fresh face, Jackie.

JC: That it is. But I’ll tell you what: Yelena Gorgo is legitimately terrifying in person. She’s taller and stronger than the television gives her credit. If she’s this intimidating out here, I can only imagine how those poor souls must feel in the boardroom of her family company.

BG: Oh well, if rumors are true, they don’t have to worry about that much longer. And to be honest, I don’t think the double-champion is much intimidated by her at all, either.





Suddenly Charlie’s music blasts through the speakers. The audience erupts into a mix of boos and scattered cheers as The Nickleman emerges from behind the curtain, with the XWF Television Championship belt on one shoulder and the XWF Xtreme Championship belt on the other. He smirks as he makes his way down to the ring.


JC: Well, it used to be rare to say, but lately not so much: here comes the double-champion, and he looks ready to defend both of his titles in the beginning stage of this Xtreme gauntlet!

BG: Yes he does, Jackie. And given the words that he had for all of his potential opponents, he didn’t have much nice things to say about the challenger.

JC: The Nickleman doesn’t have a lot of nice things to say about anybody. Especially lately, I’ve never seen Nickles so driven toward the absolute destruction of whomever stands in front of him.

BG: He’s put a stranglehold on the Xtreme division through sheer will, and now the Television division as well. And there’s been one word to describe him: relentless. Much to the chagrin of the shot-callers backstage, I’m sure.

JC: Yelena Gorgo earned the right to face the Television champ, and thanks to what Nickles pulled on Sarah Wolf, she could walk out of this match as the new double champion! Then how would Charlie feel?

BG: But if she did, then she’d be the one to have to defend the Xtreme title later on tonight in a Fatal Five Way. So, it’s like fighting for the right to get your ass kicked! Everyone’s a loser tonight!

JC: We’ll see. Someone is walking out with these belts tonight and though it’ll take two matches to get to the bottom of it, we’re about to start the first one… now!

XWF Television Championship Charlie Nickles © - vs - Yelena Gorgo 15 Minute Time Limit

The opening bell sounds and Charlie Nickles stomps towards the center of the ring. Gorgo isn’t wasting a second, closing the gap with a bit more pace, and lunging at the double champion! The two of them immediately come to blows, repeated forearm shots and closed fists with neither of them backing down. Nickles fires off with a headbutt that seems to stun Gorgo, except Yelena quickly shakes it off and fires one right back. Nickles with a second headbutt with more force than the first, and finally Yelena with an eye gouge creates some separation between them.


BG: It’s like watching two trains running headfirst into each other because they both ride on the same track!

JC: Nickles holds the size advantage, but only slightly. Gorgo is much more adept at technical wrestling and submissions, but I think she wants to show Nickles that she can throw down with him.


Yelena pushes Nickles into the corner and starts pounding away at whatever opening that Charlie isn’t blocking at the moment. Gorgo backs off just long enough to come charging back with a corner knee strike that catches Nickles in the gut. With an impressive show of strength, Gorgo pulls the double champion out toward the center of the ring and body slams him as if he were a cruiserweight. She bends over Nickles to look him in the eyes, mouthing something to him, when he kicks her in retaliation.

Nickles back to his feet. Elbow strike to the forehead sends Gorgo staggering back to the ropes. Irish whip and a back body drop attempt is thwarted when Gorgo stops short and catches the Nickleman in a double-underhook. She attempts to lift him up for the butterfly suplex, or perhaps even the Devil Hook Drop, but Nickles breaks her grip and comes out firing with elbows to the face. He scoops Gorgo up looking for a running powerslam but she slides down behind Nickles and locks in a DEATH CLUTCH! NO! Nickles pushes himself out of the hold.

Gorgo taunts the Double Champion saying that she was this close. Nickles offers a sarcastic golf clap, and then drills her with a big boot to the face! Gorgo goes down in a heap. Nickles follows up with a leg drop across her throat. Mounted strikes follow, with the champion pushing himself back up to his feet with a grip on Gorgo’s hair. He scoops her up yet again and this time drives her into the canvas with a powerslam two-thirds of the way across the ring!


JC: Massive powerslam by the Double-Champion!

BG: Charlie Nickles would not be denied, Jackie!

JC: That has been the story of the Xtreme Division for the last two months!


Nickles picks up Gorgo looking for his trademark sidewalk slam, but Gorgo flips backwards and lands on her feet, and she snaps Nickles straight down to the canvas with a lightning-fast judo hip throw! She twists Nickles’ arm in what first looks like a key lock, attempting a kimura but as Nickles squirms away she transitions it into a fujiwar armbar. Nickles pushes himself over towards the ropes, underneath the bottom rope, and lets himself fall out to the ringside floor, breaking the hold.


JC: The submission is always in play when Yelena Gorgo is involved!

BG: Not only is she strong, but she's an extremely well-trained judo master, and a submission specialist to boot!

JC: Gorgo is a cheat code.


Nickles pulls himself back up with help from the guardrail, but Yelena is right there to meet him with a knife edge chop!


“Wooo!”


She grabs Nickles by the wrist and irish whips him, but Nickles reverses it and sends her hard into the ring steps with a loud smash! Gorgo’s body knocks the steps off-kilter, and Nickles follows up with a snake-eyes drop onto the barrier.

On the rebound, he scoops Gorgo up and hits his trademark Sidewalk slam onto the thinly padded ringside floor. Gorgo bounces with a thud. Nickles grabs her by the hair and drags her over to the steel ring steps and sets her up into a seated position against them. He takes a few steps back, charges, and drills her in the head with a running knee into the steps!


BG: Ohh my god! Charlie Nickles is bringing the old-school level of Xtreme to the challenger!

JC: And this is just the first match, Bobby! He’s already throwing caution to the wind!

BG: Well, I mean, look who it is.

JC: Yeah. I knew it the moment I said it.


Nickles shakes out his knee, grabs Gorgo by the hair again, and rolls her back into the ring.


JC: If his knee is hurting that bad, imagine how Gorgo’s face and head feel!


Nickles rolls himself back into the ring. He stomps down on Gorgo as she tries to pull herself up with the ropes. Gorgo kicks back at him in the same kneecap that Nickles was just favoring. Nickles loses his balance momentarily.


BG: Gorgo’s not out of this yet, Jackie!


Nickles attempts to approach again, but once more Gorgo with a well-placed kick knocks him off balance. She’s not only able to get back to her feet, but to begin unleashing calf-kicks aimed at the back and side of Nickle’s tweaked knee. Nickles tries to fight Gorgo off with a headbutt that does connect. But as he attempts to follow up with a boot of his own, Gorgo catches his leg and takes him down painfully with a dragon-screw!

Gorgo now in command again, She’s looking for a single-leg boston crab but Nickles is doing everything he can to fight off the hold. He squirms his way over toward the ropes, and grabs the bottom rope, but that doesn’t stop Gorgo from locking in a knee bar submission!


JC: The Xtreme Title is on the line, Bobby, but so is the Television Title! And in the Television championship, we have rules! But in the Xtreme division, anything goes!

BG: So does the referee call for a break, or not?

JC: It looks as though the referee is airing on the side of caution here. He has been lenient thus far, but he’s calling for a clean break.

BG: Gorgo is taking every second of the five count to let go, too.


Gorgo does release the hold, but not before the damage had been done. Nickles pulls himself up with the ropes only to be chop blocked right back down to the mat. Gorgo with targeted stomps to the knee, smells blood in the water. She still appears to be favoring the head though and it has slowed down her pace considerably.

She drags Nickles away from the ropes and, with one foot down on Nickles other leg, she locks the double-champion's bum leg into a standing kneebar, not so much as a submission, but to apply torque to his joint and try to tear his ACL!


BG: Oh this is gruesome!

JC: This is exactly why Gorgo is the number-one contender. Not only does she have the toughness, but she physically wears her opponents down.


Nickles doesn’t have the ropes to force a break, instead this time he picks the ankle of Gorgo’s plant leg, and forces her off-balance enough to stumble backward. By the time Nickles is back up to his feet, however, Gorgo comes firing in with a spinning backfist, which Nickles blocks, and he kicks Gorgo in the gut. Nickles double-underhooking for a potential Devil Hook Drop! No! Gorgo counters with a northern lights suplex!

Gorgo floats over after the impact, and lifts Nickles up again! Another Northern Lights suplex! Beautiful floatover! Gorgo floats over the double-champ for a third time, pulls him back to his feet, but when she lifts Nickles up for the third northern lights, Nickles grabs the rope! It stops her momentum cold, and allows Charlie to grab the challenger by the waist and drill her with a jumping piledriver!


JC: Huge counter by the champion!

BG: And he dropped her right on that injured head!


Making the pin, Charlie hooks the outside leg-







One!








Two!!









Th- Kickout!




Slapping the canvas, Nickles pushes himself up to his feet off of his bad knee and takes yet another second to shake it out. Gorgo is forcing herself upward, but as she does, Nickles is right there to punch her straight back down to the mat. As she falls, though, she catches Nickles with a drop toe hold like trip, and now both are back down.

On even ground, the challenger and the champion begin trading forearm shots again, this time from their backs, then from one knee, then back to their feet. The crowd is on their feet now as the two of them go right back to wailing at each other much in the same way that they started this match!


JC: The crowd is getting into it now, too!


Just when it seems like the Champ is going to get the upperhand, Gorgo kicks at Charlie’s kneecap, sending him wobbly once more. She charges but Nickles scoops her up and slams her down in the center of the ring with yet another powerful trademark SIDEWALK SLAM!

Gorgo bounces off of the mat and rolls herself under the ropes before Nickles can cover her. Nickles once more pounds the mat as he pushes himself back up. His limp is now visible as he makes his way over to Gorgo, who is pulling herself up to a vertical base on the ring apron. Charlie charges her, and with a hard body block sends her flying through the air and crashing into the ringside barricade!

7 minutes remaining

JC: Ladies and Gentlemen, that’s the timer letting us know that there’s only 7 minutes remaining in this contest!

BG: I can’t believe we’re over half-way through the fifteen minutes already. Gorgo has got to get herself back in the ring if she wants a chance at making history!


Nickles decides to take his time, lowering himself down to the canvas gingerly, and rolls himself under the ropes. He sees Gorgo in a seated position against the barricade, and charges her for another knee strike! Gorgo rolls out of the way, and Nickles catches nothing but the metal behind her!


BG: Charlie went for the home run shot!

JC: But the mighty Charlie’s knee might have just struck out!


Gorgo crawls over to the ring apron and uses it to pull herself up. She’s clutching her lower back as well as shaking out the cobwebs, meanwhile the double-champion is cursing as he has his weight up on his toes taking steps gingerly to get over to her. Nickles grabs the challenger from behind but she shoots a back elbow that catches him on the cheek and judo tosses him with a IPPON down to the ring floor! Charlie hits with a thud, but bounces right back up to his feet. Gorgo charges but Charlie scoops her up onto his shoulder! He runs her face first into the ring post… no! Gorgo slides down behind Charlie and shoves HIM face first into the post!


BG: Oh my GOD what a sickening thud!

JC: Was that Charlie’s skull, or the ring post?!


Before the double-champ can crumble to the floor, Gorgo grabs him and guides him back into the ring. She once more favors the lower back, but manages to get the champion back onto the ring apron underneath the bottom rope at least. She pulls herself up onto the apron. With Charlie still under the bottom rope, she has to grab him by the legs and drag him towards the center of the ring. But as she does, Nickles reaches up and grabs her into a small package!


JC: Rollup!

BG: No!


They roll through with Gorgo quickly countering the rollup attempt, and they both make their way back to a vertical base, but Nickles never lets go of the challenger’s head. She fights the best she can, but Charlie yanks her right up off of her feet, and drills her in the center of the ring with a Steubenville Screwdriver!!!


JC: STEUBENVILLE SCREWDRIVER!


Gorgo hits the mat top of the head first and crumbles into a heap.


BG: But the champion can’t capitalize, because he’s clutching his knee, Jackie!

JC: God only knows which of these two incredible fighters’ wills will break first? Because I don’t think breaking their bodies is going to stop either of them!


Fighting through the pain, Nickles drags himself over Gorgo as the referee drops and slaps the canvas.








One!









Two!!








Thre- KICKOUT!!







BG: The challenger kicked out! She’s still in this!

2 Minutes Remain

JC: Well… yes, but technically, she’ll need her fortunes to turn quickly! One minute and fifty-eight left to win a double championship!


First to his feet, Nickles throws a haymaker that connects with the side of Gorgo’s face. Gorgo sways, and Nickles sways. Gorgo tries to throw another shot, but Nickles leg gives out, causing him to duck unintentionally. Nickles knows time is running out and he grabs Gorgo in a headlock!


JC: Headlock!

BG: We don’t normally get excited for stall tactics, Jackie!

JC: I don’t think the double-champ is done, Bobby!


Nickles is calling for the end, when Gorgo suddenly yanks her head out of the headlock, takes a full nelson on Nickles, and drills him with a SNAP DRAGON SUPLEX! She digs her fingernails into the canvas to pull her body over to his for the cover!








One!!









Two!!







TH-- NICKLES gets a Shoulder up!!





Gorgo grabs her hair as she looks up at the timer. There’s not much left. She has to act, and act now. She pulls Nickles back up to his feet and lines him up for the KICK DEMON! But Nickles… smiles at her? He flips her off with the double finger and tells her to give him her best shot!


JC: What is the champion doing here?!

BG: Quit stalling and finish him off, Gorgo! XWF History awaits!


The two stand eye to eye as Nickles puts out his chin for Yelena to aim at. Gorgo then snaps off a Mawashi Geri Roundhouse Kick, the KICK DEMON! NEARLY TAKING THE DOUBLE CHAMP’S HEAD OFF!

She drops down onto him for the cover!





One!








Two!








The bell sounds, signaling the end of the 15 Minute Time Limit. The referee waves for the end of the match and tells Gorgo that she is one second short of a victory! But Charlie Nickles has retained!

Time Limit Draw

JC: Oh my god! Charlie baited her! He knew that time was running out, and he only had to buy himself another second!

BG: And that is why Charlie Nickles is an XWF Double Champion, Jackie!

JC: The Nickleman did what he had to do, using Yelena’s own aggression against her!

BG: But now what condition will Charlie Nickles be in when he has to defend the Xtreme Championship later tonight?


The referee grabs both title belts and brings them in to Charlie Nickles, who is just now stirring from the mat. Gorgo was walking toward the ropes, when she suddenly stops. She turns to watch Nickles being handed the Television and Xtreme Championship belts when suddenly… BAM!!! A SECOND KICK DEMON DRILLS NICKLES IN THE SIDE OF THE HEAD!


JC: What the hell? What is this?

BG: It’s bad sportsmanship is what it is, Jackie!


Gorgo looks down at Nickles who is out cold on the mat. She drops down and covers Nickles… and tells the referee to count!


One!








Two!









THREE!!!


The referee signals for the bell, and raises Gorgo’s arm in victory!


BG: What just happened, Jackie?

JC: I don’t know! I have no idea… Oh God.

BG: What?

Winner and NEW XWF Xtreme Champion: YELENA GORGO!

JC: The Xtreme Title is defended under 24/7 rules! GORGO JUST MANIPULATED CHARLIE’S OWN SYSTEM AGAINST HIM!

BG: OH MY GOD!

JC: I guess that means folks, that while Charlie Nickles did retain the TV title, it’ll be our new Xtreme Champion Yelena Gorgo who will defend her championship later tonight in the Fatal Five Way!

BG: THIS IS INSANE, JACKIE!!! INSANE!!!!

---

END OF YEAR AWARDS! PROMO OF THE YEAR: THEO PRYCE, MARK FLYNN & LUCA ARZEGOTTI - A DREAM DEFERRED! Highlights are shown of their promo and the following match at Relentless XXV ending with their joint celebration. MATCH OF THE YEAR! SEAN PARKER vs. MARK FLYNN vs. SEBASTIAN EVERETT-BRYCE - LEAP OF FAITH 2024! Highlights are shown of their 5 star classic.

---

The camera focuses on the stage as the lights cut and “The Gnashing” by Deafheaven begins to play over the P.A.  The guitar seems to shimmer over the crowd as muffled as white lights flash like sparks around the floor.  A name appears on the tron: Jonathan Bacchus. 


The crowd gives an appreciative pop as the out from behind the curtain walks Jonathan Bacchus, dressed in all black with a peacoat over a turtleneck and combat pants bloused into his Louboutin sneakers.  He wears a white Thalia mask over his face, his hair hanging down over the top. 


He marches down deliberately, his eyes on the ring.  On the ramp, he removes the Thalia mask and flicks it casually over his shoulder into the crowd.  Stitches can be seen on his face – under his chin and across his hairline – as the remnants of his ugly Tai-Pei Deathmatch.

ANNOUNCER: Making his way to the ring, from Oakland, California and weighing in at 205 lbs… he is “The Insurgent” – JONATHAN! BACCHUS!


At the base of the ring, Bacchus turns to the stairs and climbs them to the turnbuckle.  With a single clean vault, he launches himself over the top rope and turns to land on the middle rope inside the ring, his peacoat seeming not to hamper his movement.  As his theme song explodes into the chorus, he throws his head back and arms out, the lights flashing bright white and the audience roaring appreciatively! 


A small smirk creeps over his face as he looks around at them – yet an intensity remains in his eyes.  He takes a moment to blow a few kisses to nobody in particular.


He removes his peacoat and drops it to the outside before pulling his turtleneck over his head.  He whips this into the crowd before dropping down to the mat, circling the ring before taking back to his corner and reclining in it.





The lights in the arena go deep blue as smoke fills the air. Pink and silver laser lights cut through the smoke and it looks fucking rad.

As Out Of Limits blares throughout the arena, slowly walking out onto the entrance ramp is Bobby Bourbon. He looks out at the crowd in the arena, cold and stoic, surveying his surroundings. He stops and raises his fists at 45 degree angles, and continues his deliberate plod towards the ring. He raises both arms outward, accepting fives, slaps, daps, knucks, and touches as he does. He looks on into the ring, feeling the energy of every fan he makes contact with. He stops, and begins stomping in place, with the utmost joy to be in front of the XWF crowd. He stops a camera.

"I'm a bad, bad man, but like my home, the XWF, I have plenty of bad, bad fans!"

Bobby climbs the steps, then climbs the nearest ring post half way and raises his fists at 45 degree angles. The lights go back to normal and the music stops. The fans in attendance all echo their sentiments for the match.

"fuck 'em up, bobby, fuck 'em up." stomp stomp. "fuck 'em up, Bobby, fuck 'em up." stomp stomp. "Fuck 'Em Up Bobby, Fuck 'Em Up!" STOMP STOMP! "FUCK 'EM UP BOBBY, FUCK 'EM UP!!!" STOMP STOMP!

Bobby acknowledges the crowd. They roar. Bobby looks back at his opponent.

Jonathan Bacchus - vs - Bobby Bourbon

DING! DING! DING!

The fans are quickly reaching a fever pitch as the match gets under way. Both Jon and Bobby lock eyes with each other across the ring, both man refusing to waver as they stare intensely.

BG: So… can you say ‘big fight feel,’ Jack?

JC: I sure can, but that’d be an understatement! Jonathan Bacchus, Bobby Bourbon, both these men together would be a main event match in any other company! But right now they’ve both got a major point to prove out there in the ring as they’re both coming off some harsh losses at Snow Holds Barred!

Bobby cranks his neck out as he slowly saunters into the middle of the ring. He relaxes himself, bringing his arms out wide, and motioning for Bacchus to come and grapple. Bacchus continues to stare intently to Bobby’s waiting grasp, a cold malice running through his veins. He steps forward slowly, intent to try and take him up on the offer.

BEFORE HE SPRINTS FORWARD AND LEVELS BOBBY WITH A SHOTGUN DROPKICK TO THE OTHER CORNER!

JC: Energetic start here from Bacchus! Both these men, helping to lead their own little ‘revolutions’ in this here company! Jon Bacchus made it a point though to say he’d NEVER link up with any of the other revolutions going on in the XWF today!

BG: Y’know, come to think of it, why do we have so many revolutions going on in here today? Why even keep them apart?

JC: I’d say it’s a matter of pride above all else, at least for these two groups…

As Bobby slumps over in the corner, gritting his teeth together, he can’t gather his breath for long. Bacchus swoops in quickly, hands raised and trying to put the hurt on. An open-palmed slap flies across Bobby’s face, followed by a quick body hook and uppercut. Bacchus follows it up with a sharp kick to the legs, and now quickly looking for an elbow to the skull-!

But Bobby shoves Bacchus back! Jon goes practically flailing about like a ragdoll halfway across the ring, feeling the raw strength Bobby possesses! Jon rolls over onto his feet again, practically snarling at his bulkier opponent as he tries to move in again. Bobby already makes his way back to the center of the ring though, forcing Bacchus to have to be the one on the offensive again.

Bacchus has to move into Bobby’s range, measuring his own range with a pair of sharp jabs that knock Bobby’s head back. Bobby tries to respond with a huge hook to the side of the skull, but Bacchus sees it coming, running off of instinct as he ducks and weaves to the side. He moves in just a bit further, landing a fierce body hook right on Bobby’s husky belly that has the air getting knocked out of him. Bobby tries to go for an uppercut now with Bacchus close by, but again Bacchus manages to slip away, this time coming right back out to just where his range began.

JC: Bacchus trying to use his speed and agility to his advantage - wise strategy here from him.

BG: Yeah, but if any of Bobby’s hits manage to connect here, he’s gonna be in big trouble, Jack.

Bacchus lands another jab, but this time Bobby manages to slip the strike and try for his own cross! Bacchus manages to lean past it, moving to his right and bringing his left foot as he did for a FIERCE inside leg kick that cracks all around the arena! Bobby’s frame threatens to buckle beneath him as the kick catches him by surprise, but he manages to stay on his feet. Bacchus smells blood in the water though, trying to move in with a roundhouse-

BOBBY CATCHES THE KICK! Bacchus’ eyes open in realization as Bobby places his other hand right on Bacchus’ throat and THROWS him right into the corner Bobby was in before!

Bacchus gets sent flying, the wind having been knocked out of him from the hard turnbuckles pressing into his back. He shakes his head, looking up only to see Bobby running in and flattening him like a pancake with a corner avalanche splash! Bacchus slumps out of the corner, huffing deep breaths as Bobby places both hands on his throat, and throws him halfway across the ring again!

JC: Bobby Bourbon showing his raw strength with that Big Boy Toss there! Brody, you said it yourself, all Bobby needed was one big strike, and already it’s beginning to snowball here.

BG: Still early for Bacchus to try and find himself here, though. If I were him, I’d slip out of the ring, take a breather, find yourself…

Bobby begins to step towards Bacchus, but Bacchus is already trying to get back on his feet! Spittle is flying from his lips, anger seeped throughout his entire body as he locks eyes again with Bobby.

BG: …Of course, it sure doesn’t look like he’s about to do that…

JC: Bacchus is riding off of adrenaline right now, but how far can that carry him?

Bacchus moves in, trying for another strike, but Bobby quickly boots him in the gut. He brings him into a front facelock, before trying to hook in both arms! Bobby tries to lift to go for a double underhook suple- WAIT! Bacchus hooks his leg right between Bobby’s own!

Bobby realizes this, releasing an arm to try and thump Bacchus across the back. It’s the opening Jon needs though, allowing him to twist out and slap Bobby right on the backside of his skull! He slumps forward, allowing Bacchus to take his back, take a waist lock, and try to LIIIIIIIIFT-!

Bobby tries to hold his ground though as Bacchus tries everything to hit Bobby with a German Suplex! Bacchus tries to lift again, Bobby just beginning to have his feet lift the ground, but it’s still not enough! Bobby reaches back, nailing Bacchus right on the nose with an elbow that has him careening back with the hold released!

JC: Trying to lift Bobby Bourbon might as well be like trying to lift a refrigerator. There’s only so many people on the roster capable of a feat like that!

BG: Yeah, because he’s FAT! Aren’t commies supposed to usually be starving?

JC: I don’t think that’s quite how that works, Brody… but that wide frame of Bobby’s is definitely serving him well here tonight.

Bobby grabs Bacchus by the hair, bringing him in with a satisfied look on his face as he shows him how to do a REAL suplex - a vertical suplex! Bobby lifts Bacchus into the air with ease, making sure to stay with Bacchus hanging in the air for a few seconds for the crowd to ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ at Bobby’s raw strength, before he plants Bacchus down with authority!

Bobby stretches his arms out wide for the fans as he gets back to his feet, soaking up the reactions as this gives just a moment for Bacchus to once again instinctively get onto his feet. There’s a bit less lucidity behind those eyes, though. It’s only that bare instinct that keeps Bacchus moving though as he straightens himself, trying to lunge forward as Bobby turns around one more time.

But Bobby sees Bacchus coming! He places Bacchus into another front facelock again, but this time instead of a suplex, he begins to twist Bacchus while holding onto his leg! HE PLANTS BACCHUS DOWN WITH A FISHERMAN’S FALCON ARROW!

JC: Bobby Bourbon measuring how bad that resulting earthquake could be with the Richter Spike! I think everyone in the nosebleeds could hear that impact, Brody!

Bobby holds Bacchus in place for a pinfall, waiting for the ref to come over and count the pinfall!

OOOOOOOOOOOOOONE!







TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!







KICKOOOOOOOOOOOUT!

With authority, at that, as Bobby is forced off of Bacchus! Bacchus is already trying to bring himself back, getting onto all fours and gritting his teeth as his body is trying to slow him down.

BG: I’ll tell ya, Jack, Johnny Bacchus is like a machine. He just doesn’t care that he’s getting the literal shit beaten out of him out there! He only cares about giving it to Bobby just as good as he’s getting it right about now!

JC: That level of stubbornness can be appealing to many on the roster, but is that only going to hasten his demise? Bobby doesn’t look to be giving Bacchus an inch here in this match.

Bobby once again grabs Bacchus up by the hair, shaking his head as he does. He brings Bacchus up to his knees, mouthing off in his face as he does, but as he looks Bobby in the eyes, Bacchus sees red once again! He kips up to his feet, bringing his hand back and thrusting it right into Bobby’s face with every ounce of force he has!

CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!

Bobby staggers back, stunned and pale from the sheer force of the strike. He doesn’t fall, but he’s forced into the corner once again, bringing his hands to his face to survey the damage. He couldn’t properly breathe, and he checked his nose first to confirm its now mangled, crooked shape. As he brought his hands back, he could see that they were absolutely coated in scarlet.

JC: Wow… Bobby got his nose absolutely demolished from that palm strike from Jonathan Bacchus! It doesn’t matter how many times Bacchus is getting thrown about, the fight isn’t leaving him!

BG: You see, Jack? Just like I told you. Just like a machine out there. Johnny doesn’t know the meaning of the word ‘stop’ even if it kills him right now.

Bobby tries walking back to the center of the ring, but Bacchus sees him coming as he screams - SPARTA KICK SENDS BOBBY RIGHT BACK INTO THE CORNER, LANDING HARDER THIS TIME!

Bacchus sees his opening and tries to move in! He’s looking for a running strike, but Bobby sees him coming! He ducks down, using Bacchus’ momentum to try and send him over the ropes! BUT WAIT! BACCHUS TWISTS IN MID AIR, BRINGING HIS LEGS UP-

TRIANGLE CHOKE! BACCHUS LOCKS IT IN ON THE STANDING BOBBY, TRYING TO DRAG HIM OVER THE ROPES WITH HIM! HE’S TRYING TO CHOKE THE LIFE OUT OF HIM!

Bobby’s trying to resist, but that resistance can only go so far as Bacchus tightens his squeezing down on Bobby’s wind pipe! He slumps forward in the ropes, Bacchus trying to use his weight to drag him over the top! And it’s here that the referee finally makes his presence involved, trying to count Bacchus for the rope break!

ONE!





TWO!





THREE!





FOUR!





FI-

BACCHUS BREAKS THE HOLD AND LANDS HIMSELF ON THE OUTSIDE!

BG: Whew… I thought Bobby might’ve gotten a break with Bacchus about to disqualify himself.

JC: Gutsy performance from Bacchus so far, but it seems he’s got a long way to go!

With Bobby still danging on the top rope, Bacchus takes the honors, yanking Bobby down and sending him landing hard on his side on the apron! The front row fans wince at the impact as Bacchus twists him around, getting him set up as he takes a few steps back… before screaming while rushing forward!

Bacchus jumps into the air, corkscrewing while doing so - AND SPIKE KICKING BOBBY’S SKULL RIGHT ONTO THE RING APRON! BLOOD GOES FLYING EVERYWHERE ALL OVER THE CANVAS! BOBBY SLUMPS TO THE OUTSIDE COMPLETELY OUT OF IT!

JC: VICIOUS! You can see on Bobby’s face now all the cuts that are coming out now after having his skull practically caved in! It’ll be a miracle if he doesn’t earn himself a concussion when this is all said and done!

BG: Folks, we’re a good ways into this match, and believe us, we’re as surprised as you are that this is Bobby’s first time in this match where he’s finally downed! But Bacchus has gotta get off his ass and roll this fatso in the ring if he wants to win this!

Bacchus slumps against the metal guardrail, eyes coldly fixated on the downed Bobby as the crowd’s cheers are drowned out in his mind. The referee, observing the chaos from within the ring, proceeds to try and count these two out.

ONE!

The count of the referee finally spurs Bacchus on, who rolls himself off of the barricade and almost mechanically straightens himself out while doing so. He rubs the sweat out of his eyes and approaches the downed Bobby.

TWO!

Bacchus places a boot down right on the side of Bobby’s skull, trying to put as much pressure on him as possible as he stands directly on Bobby’s head! It lasts for only a second before he gets right back off of him.

THREE!

Bacchus now tries to bend low, grabbing Bobby by the arms and trying to lift him up towards the ring… but he just can’t do it!

BG: I TOLD YOU HE’S FAT, JACK!

JC: More than just the weight difference of eighty-five pounds going between these two men, Brody, sheer unconscious weight like Bobby has practically feels twice as heavy!

FOUR!

Bacchus keeps trying, but he can’t fully lift Bobby, just like he couldn’t suplex him earlier! He grunts, releasing his grip, backing against the ring to try and figure out something else as Bobby begins to stir.

FIVE!

Bacchus comes up with another plan in his head, and he nods to himself. He goes to Bobby once again, ONLY FOR BOBBY TO COME BACK ONTO HIS FEET AND DRIVE A SHOULDER CHARGE! Bacchus’ back hits hard against the ring apron!

BG: Took Bobby long enough to try and come back to life! But look at that crimson mask!

JC: It’s like I’m looking at Patrick Bateman right now…

SIX!

Bobby stares at the writhing Bacchus, blood dripping down his face as he shakes his head. Bobby takes Bacchus by the hair again, and proceeds to throw him right into the metal ring post! Bacchus’ face bounces right off the hard metal, and a small cut is beginning to show on his forehead too!

SEVEN!

The sight of blood all over Bacchus’ face brings him right back into this match, trying to collect himself amidst his haze as he turns around towards Bobby. He turns around and lunges at him-

ONLY FOR BOBBY TO CHOKESLAM HIM RIGHT ONTO THE RING APRON! THE FANS COME ALIVE AT THAT HARSH IMPACT!

JC: If you forgot the equation that gives the crowd energy, that’s EMC Squared for you!

BG: They say the ring apron’s the hardest part of the ring, and both these guys are showing why that is! How the Hell do you come back from that?!

EIGHT!

Bobby rolls Bacchus into the center of the ring and shakes his head, before rolling right back in after him. With Bacchus laid out, Bobby gets right on top of him for the cover.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONE!















TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!















KICKOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUT!

BG: How the Hell did Bacchus NOT get pinned there?!

JC: I don’t know Brody, but what I do know is that Bobby looks almost as shocked as you are right now!

Bobby’s widened eyes stare at Bacchus’ prone form, and he knows he’s going to have to finish this soon. He wipes more of his own blood off of his face, dragging himself onto his feet. The pops and boos from the fans alike are the fuel and energy that keeps him going and drowns out the questions boggling around in his mind. With a deep breath, he turns towards Jon, pulling him up one last time so he can go for the kill.







BUT BACCHUS RESPONDS BY COMING ONTO HIS FEET AND SPITTING IN BOBBY’S FACE!

BG: DISGUSTING!

JC: I think that only got Bobby even madder!

A blank look enters Bobby’s mind as he slowly turns back to look at the swaying, tired form of Jonathan Bacchus. He beckons Bobby forward, which he does - but only to give a HARD slap that sends Bacchus sprawling about on the mat, cutting off his burst of energy.

The blank look does not fade as Bobby goes right to a turnbuckle, forcefully ripping off the cover to show off the hardened, exposed steel underneath. The referee tries to assert himself to tell off Bobby, but Bobby immediately silences the referee’s attempt by giving him a hardened look with his bloodied face and threatening to lunge right at him.

With the metal now exposed out in the air, Bobby drags Bacchus over and forces him onto his feet. Bacchus tries to weakly fight back with an elbow but Bobby responds by bashing Bacchus’ face into the exposed metal!

AND AGAIN!

AND AGAIN!

AND AGAIN!

JC: I don’t think Bobby’s gonna stop this unless he’s forced to! This is barbaric!

BG: If you look real close right about now, you can see he’s aiming right for that cut on Bacchus’ face!

AGAIN! AGAIN! AGAIN! AGAIN! AGAIN! AGAIN!

The referee is watching this and tries to shout Bobby down, but he’s not listening!

AGAIN! AGAIN! AGAIN! AGAIN! AGAIN! AGAIN!

The referee starts to count!

ONE!

AGAIN!

TWO!

AGAIN!

THREE!

AGAIN!

FOUR!

AGAIN!

FI-

BOBBY THROWS BACCHUS ACROSS THE RING TO BEAT THE COUNT!

And as Bacchus stares up at the lights…

JC: Oh my God. I don’t think you can see an ounce of Bacchus’ actual skin on his face with how he’s bleeding…

BG: Well, with how Bacchus likes donning masks on the way to the ring… I guess this is his ‘crimson mask,’ huh?

Bobby saunters over once again, spitting out a globule of spit and blood that had been pooling in his mouth, before bending over to grab at Bacchus once again. This time… HE SETS A VICE GRIP AROUND BACCHUS’ SKULL TO TRY AND SQUEEZE IT!

JC: Phrenology Claw! Bobby Bourbon is trying to crush Jonathan Bacchus’ skull like it’s a damn pimple!

BG: I’d say he should tap now, but honestly, I don’t even know if there’s anyone home in there!

Bacchus is weakly struggling around, trying to fight off the pain, but it’s no use! Bobby has the hold locked on tight! As Bobby amps up the pressure, he drives his fingers right into Bacchus’ open wounds, trying to open them as much as possible as he howls from the pain!

The referee swoops in to try and check on Bacchus, but he’s not giving in yet! He shakes his head, but Bobby only replies by squeezing tighter! Bacchus’ cries begin to die off as his legs are wobbling around helplessly!

The referee raises Bacchus’ hand, and lets it fall once.

Lets it fall twice.

He raises it for the third time…



















BACCHUS TIGHTENS HIS HAND INTO A FIST! THERE’S STILL SOME FIGHT LEFT IN HIM! BOBBY TRIES TO KEEP TIGHTENING THE HOLD, BUT BACCHUS WON’T LET HIM BRING HIM DOWN!

Bacchus marches forward, trying to get himself to the ropes! He’s making his way over and getting closer, but Bobby won’t let him fully grab on! He keeps him just outside of arm’s reach!

But Bacchus will not be denied! He begins to walk up the ropes, using them for leverage, and throws himself back onto Bobby to set him in a pinning predicament! The referee tries to count!

OOOOOOOOOOOONE!























TWOOOOOOOOOOOOO!























KICKOOOOOOOOOOOUT!

BG: At this rate, you might as well just kill one of these guys to put the other out of their misery.

Bobby manages to be the first one to his feet, but Bacchus isn’t far behind! Both of these men are on their last legs as Bobby roars into the air and throws a boot right to Bacchus’ gut! Bacchus doubles over, and Bobby looks to hoist him up!

JC: If he hits this BOBBYBOMB, it’s over!

Bobby’s got him on his shoulders! But wait! Bacchus still has some fight in him! He’s throwing punches left and right to Bobby’s skull, driving his fists right into those cuts!

WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM!

Bobby has to let go as he doubles over! Bacchus manages to come right back down to the canvas as he takes a deep breath to collect himself!

BG: Fast thinking there! How’s he gonna try and capitalize, though?

With Bobby hunched over, Bacchus sees he’s got one chance to try and make this right. He brings Bobby in close, turning to a gutwrench position.

BG: Wait, wait! Bacchus tried to lift Bobby several times over already! You’re gonna break your back lifting that fatass!

JC: I don’t think that’s gonna stop him, though!

BG: This is what the definition of insanity is!

Bacchus grits his teeth, and uses every ounce of strength in his body! He screams into the air as he LIFTS BOBBY OFF OF HIS FEET! THE FANS ARE POPPING LIKE CRAZY FOR THE DISPLAY OF STRENGTH AS BACCHUS MANAGES TO TWIST BOBBY AROUND!

AND HE PILEDRIVES HIM INTO THE GROUND!

BG: WHAT THE HELL?!


JC: BOBBY BOURBON JUST HAD HIS OWN TRAGEDY AT BUFFALO AFTER GETTING SPIKED TO THE GROUND THERE!

BACCHUS SLUMPS OVER FOR THE PIN AFTER TURNING BOBBY OVER! THE REF SLIDES IN FOR THE COUNT!

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONE!























TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!






















THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

JC: What a match! Bacchus managed to eke out a win here by the skin of his teeth!

Winner: Jonathan Bacchus!

---

END OF YEAR AWARDS! TEAM OF THE YEAR: PRINCE ADEYEMI & NED KAYE! The crowd pop showing their dominating tag career and title run.

---

JC: Folks, we got plenty of action left to show ya! Our next m-



JC: Oh jeez, what is Peter Principle doing here?!?

Peter Principle, Warfare General Manager, bursts through the curtain, flanked by…

BIG PREESH!

And!


’BIG PUDDIN’ HERSCHEL KISS! Dressed in black suits and sunglasses like the secret service!

JC: And what are those two doing with him?!?

BG: If I had to guess, they’re the only muscle he could get on short notice…

Peter jogs down to the ring, while barking at Preesh and Kiss to cover his twelve o’clock and six o’clock! The two behemoths very intentionally stay in front of and behind the Warfare GM!

Finally, he slides under the bottom rope, and pulls out a microphone!

”Excuse me! Everyo-”

…

Principle turns around and sees his guard is not in the ring with him!

In fact, Kiss is too wide to slider under the ropes after Principle and Puddin’ is trying to shove him through!

JC: Absolute jokers!

BG: The sort of service that’s only secret because you’re ashamed to tell anyone about it! And the tough thing is, they HAVE to slide in the ring, those four steel steps would give either of these men heart attacks!

THUNK! Finally, Kiss scoots under the rope and Preesh manages to squeeze in after him! The two flank Principle on both sides, leaning into ear pieces, talking to each other… Even though they’re about five feet apart.

…

Principle clears his throat.

”Okay! Hello! Um…” Principle scratches his head… ”I wanted to address James Shark on… what I feel… is a HUGE misund-”



JC: Here he comes! James Shark!

A custom version of BEAST by Tech N9ne begins to blast on the arena's speakers accompanied by the reaction of fans in attendance.

Insanity at it's finest
Fire starter,
Riot maker,
Moon stricken,
Animal need,
Bad seed,
Untamable beast!

A cloud of ocean blue smoke fills the top of the ramp, as the special lighting shines down upon the smoke it gives off the appearance of waves.

Everybody around me always think they know what's going on inside my mind
think I'm Mr. Trash Talk all the time
How they say on Diary 'You think you know, but you have no idea'

As the music kicks in, Shark jogs out of the curtains on cue.

…

Actually, no, he’s not jogging.

James Shark is SPRINTING toward the ring!

JC: Oh my God! The Shark is on the hunt!

Principle throws the mic away, barking at Preesh and Kiss to stop him! STOP HIM!

Preesh and Kiss Security both move into position like offensive lineman protecting the QB as Shark runs down the ramp… Under the bottom rope!

Preesh and Kiss both go to stiff-arm Shark…

BUT SHARK BREAKS THROUGH THE PACK LIKE AN EAGLE THROUGH THE CHIEF’S OFFENSIVE LINE!

Principle screams at a decibel only dogs can hear, in absolute horror…

AS SHARK NAILS HIM WITH A SHARKBAIT TO THE SKULL!

Principle drops, his head CAVED IN, as Shark slides under the bottom rope and escapes out into the crowd!

JC: OH MY GOD! Shark just took a BITE out of Peter Principle’s skull!

BG: Don’t know what he ran for! The only thing Kiss and Preesh could chase is breakfast… and they’d do it with a second breakfast!

Preesh and Kiss lean down over their boss, panicking, talking into their earpieces, which again, are just to communicate with each other!

Principle is face-down unconscious!

As James Shark walks around the XWF Universe like a King reunited with his people! The crowd chants…

JAMES SHARK! JAMES SHARK! JAMES SHARK!

JC: Well… I guess that’s what you get for keeping the Shark away from his herd! And Shark’s herd is the XWF’s loyal fans!

BG: Actually, a group of sharks is called a shiver, Jacko. As in, a shiver should run down Principle’s spine if he EVER THINKS about crossing James Shark again!

---

The crowd is going apeshit.

JC: Brody Goodman, just listen to this audience. The XWF has done it again! Tonight, we’re being treated to a match that should’ve happened years ago. Sebastian Everette-Bryce has called this man, Dickie Watson, a dream opponent…. But tonight that dream might turn into a nightmare!

The aggressive electronic riff opening of “DEATHLIST” by Code: Pandorum and GHØSTKID blares across the arena’s speaker system as the lights shut off entirely. The edges of the entryway flash the lime green color and the lights flicker and strobe on the stage as the opening continues to play, rhythmic and angry. As the lyrics whisper out "You're number one on my Deathlist", the lights die out entirely, and the arena is covered in darkness. As the music plays again, combined with the rest of the aggressive instruments, the lights on the stage turn on, casting Dickie Watson in the same green from the floor of the stage upwards, the lights from above strobing as before while he smirks.

BG: Let’s be real here, both of these guys have something to prove. SEB’s trying to find himself. Trying to climb back up after losing the Universal Championship, and Dickie? He’s out to remind everyone of why his name used to send chills down spines. This crowd knows it. They know these two wrestling giants. They’ve heard it all week in their promos. They know this the type of match wrestling fans live for, what this industry is built upon!

He takes a couple of steps forward into the limelight and looks around at the crowd before raising his arms out to the side. Dickie doesn’t waste time in heading for the ring. He crosses to one side around the apron, doing as he always has done and high-fiving a few select fans with a smile on his face, then doing the same to the opposite side, using both hands to do so. He then reaches upwards and grabs the rope, jumping up with both feet to the apron and propels himself over the top rope into the ring. He climbs the bottom one and raises a fist upwards as the crowd pops. As his music fades, he drops to the corner, pulls on the ropes to test them, and then squats down in the corner, waiting for the match to start.



JC: And these fans expect to see questions answered here tonight… like who is Dickie Watson now? Is he the legend that this man, Sebastian Everette-Bryce, wanted to face? Or is he faceless? Another man trying to reclaim something that’s already gone.

BG: But let’s flip that, because who is SEB now? Because according to Dickie Watson, SEB has one foot in the grave and the other one is slipping

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.

The lights lift, and SEB makes his way to the ring, stretching his neck from side to side as he walks, his eyes focused on the ring. He climbs up the steps and steps through the ropes before standing in the middle of the ring.

"I'm winnin', yeah, yeah, I'm winnin' (What?)
Rich kid, asshole, paint me as a villain"

He extends his arms once more before pulling back his hood and removing his jacket to reveal the back of his tights which read “S.E.B”

"Don't be mad cause I'm doing me better than you doing you
Better than you doing you, fuck it, what you gon' do? (What?!)"

He flashes his arms out to a side, a satisfied and somewhat sneery grin upon his face, he holds the position for a moment, to allow the crowd to take pictures, before moving towards his corner.

JC: Here we go! Everett-Bryce v. Watson. Two men who have been to the mountaintop, two men who have fallen, and two men desperate to prove they can climb again.

The stadium lights shine through the fog of pyro smoke, as this capacity crowd stands in anticipation.

Sebastian Everett-Bryce - vs - Dickie Watson

The bell rings!

SEB fires out his corner like a cannon, blasting Watson in the chest with a shotgun dropkick!

JC: Right out of the gate!

BG:This ain’t just about winning a match! This is about erasing doubts. You lose here, and suddenly the world starts believing you were never as good as they thought. SEB has no intentions of having that happen!

The kick pushes Watson back in his corner, throttling his body. SEB is on his feet and charging in once more! Somehow Dickie recovers just in time. He backbodies SEB over the ropes. The former Uni champ lands on the apron, and Dickie runs for his head with a clothesline. SEB ducks, and connects with a leaping roundhouse kick over the top rope. The connection is flush, emitting a large crack that seems to echo through the arena.

As Dickie falls over on the mat, SEB bursts through the ropes, climbing on top of him to take advantage, but Dickie is fighting on his back. He grabs SEB by the ears and knees him in the midsection repeatedly. But SEB is fighting through, throwing viscous forearms. Neither seeming to gain an upper hand, they begin wrestling through their brawl on the mat, rolling toward the ropes.

The two spill out on the apron, SEB grabbing the ropes as Dickie falls down to the floor. Dickie is standing, just as SEB leaps off the apron with a diving knee to the head! The crowd goes wild! SEB doesn’t take long getting back to his feet, and is lifting Dickie now, whipping him toward the guardrail! But Watson reverses. He grabs SEB’s arm and flips the momentum. Bryce is now hurdling to the corner guardrail, and smashes chest first.

Watson runs after him, and just as SEB staggers back around, it’s WATSON WITH A RUNNING CROSSBODY!

THE GUARDRAIL COLLAPSES IN, AND THESE TWO ARE MANGLED OUT IN THE AUDIENCE! 
 
JC: Brody this is turning more into a fight by the second!

BG: Dickie Watson is smelling blood! He’s not here to be a nostalgia act, he’s come back to pro wrestling to burn everything down and start fresh! Sebastian Everette Bryce is standing in the fire now!

The ref has only just begun to count, and Watson has SEB up now, leading him by a handful of hair. The two fight back down the opening of fans near a ledge to an upper deck of seating. Watson throws SEB into the concrete wall, but SEB catches himself with his arms, and instead pushes Watson off. He grabs a handful of Watson’s hair now, and runs him face first into the wall.

The ref doesn’t bother counting now, the audience might rip him apart if he were to count these two out. He follows after them, trying to get the match back in the ring.

Meanwhile, SEB has pulled up on the ledge of this concrete wall, about 5 feet from the downed Watson. And without hesitation, SEB leaps off! Just as Dickie regains his footing, the flying clothesline from SEB wipes them both out!

After a few moments, SEB starts groaning and rolling up on his knees, while Watson has only just flipped over on his stomach. SEB staggers to his feet, limping over toward Watson.

JC: High risk, and high reward! That move did some damage to SEB, but Watson is much worse for the wear!

SEB has Watson lifted up now, throwing a knee to his midsection for good measure. WAtson stumbles back down between the audience. SEB attacks him as they head back toward the ring. Dickie stumbles out at ringside, but baits Bryce! He counters a punch and instead runs SEB head first into the turnbuckle post. Watson quickly rolls SEB back under the ropes, and climbs the turnbuckle himself… he catches his breathe. Sizing SEB up now as the former uni champ rolls out near the center of the mat, nursing his head.

WATSON TAKES FLIGHT!


A PICTURESQUE SHOOTING STAR PRESS!

The impact bounces Watson off of SEB, as Byrce is throttled, and bounced on the mat. Watson lands a good 2 feet away from SEB, but crawls after him, clutching his stomach.

WATSON MAKES THE PINFALL!



1!







2!!






SEBS FOOTS ON THE ROPES

JC: DICKIE NEARLY WON THIS MATCH!

BG: Dickie isn’t wrestling to prove he’s the best, he’s wrestling like he’s here to destroy something! 

JC: And that something is SEB’s confidence! Everytime the former champ has some momentum, Watson is right there to take it back!

Miffed, Dickie picks SEB up and runs him into the ropes, catching SEB with a corkscrew round house kick! Watson runs to the corner, and climbs the turnbuckle. The crowd is unglued by this display. He walks down the ropes, and vaults off with a splash directly onto SEB.

HE COVERS AGAIN!



1!





2!!







NOOOOOOOO



SEB kicks out!

Dickie catches his breath again.

He grimaces and moves back to the turnbuckle, he sizes SEB up and leaps off with a meteora in his chest!

BUT SEB MOVES!

Dickie’s knees burry into the mat. SEB pops to his feet and rushes behind Dickie, locking him around the waist.

GERMAN SUPLEX!

BG: OH! One of the prettiest german suplexes in the business!

SEB keeps locked in, rolls, and has Dickie up again, GERMAN- BUT DICKIE SWINGS BEHIND SEB


MILLENNIAL FALLOUT!

JC: Dickie Watson with a pretty german suplex of his own!

Dickie bridges the German suplex!

1!






2!!






SEB POPS OUT!


And he lunges forward


THE EMPEROR LOCK!


SEB attempts his finishing sleeper hold, in prime position to lock it in, but Watson too is maneuvering up to his feet after the pin is broken. SEB tries wrestling him into the hold, but he only gets Watson’s waist again as they both stand now, each running off what looks like pure adrenaline. SEB makes the most of it!


ANOTHER GERMAN SUPLEX!



BUT WITH A ROLL THROUGH!


AND A RELEASE GERMAN SUPLEX INTO THE CORNER!


BG: SEB will not be outdone in the art of the german!

WAtson is battered in the corner, SEB flies in with a moonsault kick! But Watson falls out of the way!

SEB’s legs are hung up awkwardly, his legs meeting a combo of the rope and steel post. He falls back into the mat. Dickie leaps, and with no hands vaults off of the top rope with a moonsault that lands flush!

Watson isn’t able to capitalize with a pin, gassed and lying on the mat as SEB rolls, groaning in agony toward the apron, before falling out onto the floor. Watson gingerly climbs to his feet. The crowd is still roaring with applause. He spots SEB out on the floor and hits the ropes. Just as Bryce stands, Watson flies through the ropes with a suicide dive!

Both men are wiped out again! The crowd standing to their feet, applauding with wild fervor.

JC: What a battle we’re witnessing here tonight!

BG: Dream match indeedy!

Both men stand. Dickie chops SEB. SEB gives Dickie a receipt in the form of a forearm. The two exchange chops and forearms until SEB is pushed back near the ring steps. Dickie chops again, but it’s SEB with a drop toe hold, sending Watson face first into the steps. Bryce picks Watson up, but Dickie is fighting back! Almost seating himself on the apron as he pushes SEB back with some kicks. SEB climbs the apron next to him as the two stand. Watson immediately strikes SEB with a sick headbutt. They both wobble, SEB nearly crumbled all the way down, but barely holding onto the ropes. Dickie climbs up the turnbuckle looking for something big!

But SEB rushes into the ring, climbing up behind Dickie on the top rope and


OH MY GOD! A RELEASE GERMAN SUPLEX FROM THE TURNBUCKLE!


Dickie groggily rolls through and staggers to his feet but a diving moonsault headbutt plants him!

SEB covers!



1!









2!!






NOOOOOOO

Both men are slow to their feet. SEB pulling himself up by the ropes as Dickie staggers up. Watson gains his footing and charges in! There’s a viscous kick flying right at SEBS head! His eyes go wide

He just barely moves and hook’s Dickie’s leg

JC: THE STAMFORD BRIDGE!

Dickie is folded up like an accordion by the beautiful tiger suplex. SEB bridges it!

1!


BG: THIS ONE IS OVER!






2!!










KICKOUT!!!

SEB is in disbelief. He yanks Dickie up, going for another suplex, but Watson is struggling, throwing punches to SEBs ribs. They fight into the ropes. Dickie’s head still locked in SEB’s arm, his back against the ropes. Another good punch and- DICKIE HITS A CHINBREAKER!

SEB staggers back before falling forward on the middle rope as Dickie falls out of the way.

With SEB sprawled out on the ropes, Dickie runs to the opposite side of the ring, he rebounds, and swings on the ropes next to SEB with a vaulting facekick. SEB is laid out on the mat. Dickie stands on the apron and vaults onto the top rope, leaping off with a big splash!

JC: The molotov cocktail!

Dickie covers!



1!






2!!







NO!!!!!




SEB kicks out now!

Watson goes to stand, but SEB is somehow grabbing him by the ankle! He’s trying to turn it into a submission, but Dickie is leaping around on one leg, forcing SEB to stand while still holding onto Watson’s ankle. Dickie with an enziguri, but SEB leaps back. Watson lands on his feet, BUT EATS A SUPERKICK OUT OF NOWHERE!

Both men are down again. SEB pushing up on his arms first. He runs over and pulls Watson to his feet. But again Watson is fighting back! He bashes SEB in the face, and swiftly now has his head cradled



JC: IT’S DICKIE’S REVENGE!



SEB SPINS OUT!







EMPIRE KICK!!!!!

BG: OUT OF NOWHERE! IT’S REALLY OVER NOW!



1!












2!!













3-NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!


JC: I can’t believe it! SEB has put away the best of the best with that move! It seems like no matter what he throws at Watson, he can’t keep him down!

BG: And look at SEB’s face! He can’t believe it either. That’s the face of a man who used to be able to put people away like that, but now? He’s got doubts creeping in!

JC: Dickie is making him fight for every single moment! He said he was here to dull SEB’s shine, and right now, SEB looks like he’s questioning himself.

SEB is incensed. He limps up and brings Dickie with him, throwing him into the ropes and on the rebound…

NIGHTFALL!!!!!

SEB locks in the sleeper, but with much resistance from Watson! Elbows are flying into SEBS midsection. Watson breaks out of the hold, another elbow and a well placed kick, and SEB is crumbled over…


CURB STOMP FROM WATSON!


JC: He’s so athletic! Sneaky athletic! Rising up out of nowhere with that stomp!

Watson slowly pulls SEB up   

BG: These men are running on fumes! They’ve thrown everything they have at each other.

Watson cradles SEB’s head again, looking for the STO!



SEB SPINS OUT AGAIN!






BUT WATSON HITS THE ROPES! 




HE RUNS BACK AT SEB, LEAPING IN THE AIR!










THE CALAMITY INSURANCE!!!!



















IS COUNTERED BY ANOTHER EMPIRE KICK!!!!









SEB COVERS!








1!






2!!










3!!!

WINNER - SEBASTIAN EVERETT-BRYCE

JC: What an exhilarating contest! One that certainly lived up to the hype!

BG: SEB just ripped this one away from Dickie Watson! That was a fight, that was a war, and that was Sebastian Everett-Bryce proving he’s still the best in the business!

JC: Dickie Watson came into this match trying to reinvent himself, trying to make SEB a stepping stone, but tonight, SEB reminded him why he’s been on top for so long!

BG: This wasn’t just a win, JC, this was SEB digging deep, facing down every single doubt, and proving that he’s still a man to be feared in XWF!

JC: Take nothing away from the man tonight, because Dickie brought the fire. But The Best in the Business just reminded the world exactly who he is.

BG: SEB isn’t done yet. Not by a long shot.

???: Sorry! Sorry!

SEB's music stops as Steve Sayors walks back out holding a palm up the crowd.

SAYORS: I hate to interrupt once more but I couldn't help myself. Ladies and Gentlemen, our last award for tonight!

WINNER OF WRESTLER OF THE YEAR! SEBASTIAN! EVERETT! BRYCEEEEEEEEE!!!!

Sayors begins to clap loudly as the entire arean erupts into applause giving Bryce a standing ovation as his music picks up once more looking around at the crowd with admiration.

JC: Only makes sense that XWF's Wrestler of the Year would go to THE BEST in the business!

BG: Yeah, now he's never gonna shut up about it!

Warfare slowly fades to commercial as SEB celebrates.

---

---

Lucy Wylde and Sarah Wolf are both already in the ring.





Helix Nebula by Anamanaguchi blasts as colored lights in beat to the rhythm pass over the roaring crowd. When the beat kicks in Game Girl swoops down from the rafters on her flying cloud, Nimbus, going over fans and reaching down to give them passing high fives before sailing over to the ring and flipping down to her feet into a fist-raising pose.





The show is quickly interrupted by the sound of a distant synthesizer, followed up by horses neighing and galloping through the dirt. It fades out, leading into the riff of a guitar strumming a fiery tune. There's an inherent electricity building within the air of the arena, culminating as the drums kick in. As they do, the steadfast figure of Scoops McGee comes out from the back, a look of no nonsense etched onto his face as he takes a long look at the crowd and the squared circle.

He nods, steadily walking to the ring and absentmindedly high-fiving any fans stretching out their hands who happen to be right in his way. He makes his way over to ringside, climbing up the steps methodically and stepping onto the ring apron. He saunters about halfway across the apron, taking one last long look at the crowd as they give their reception to the seasoned vet. Scoops stretches his arms out wide, accepting everything they've got to give before stepping into the ring.

Scoops skulks over to his corner, pacing there and doing some small stretches to keep himself warmed up before the match begins.





B L A C K.

A distorted march and shrill, ear-splitting violins attack the mass of attendants with visceral intent, triggering a contentious wave of hateful screams and wails. The music builds, and builds, until GORGO's voice ECHOES throughout the arena…


CUT TO: THE STAGE.

A Perfect Circle's COUNTING BODIES LIKE SHEEP violently assaults the listeners with its droning march as SMOKE AND RUIN crawls across the platform in strobing white light. A single spotlight shines down to center stage as Maynard begins singing the first verse.

From below, GORGO slowly rises out of the stage surrounded in dark haze and flashing light. Blonde hair is smeared black with grease and hangs in wet tangles. Face painted black and white and marked with pagan symbology. White eyes outlined in black. Their smile, their awful smile, stretched into a hideous, crazed grin. Muscular shoulders and arms, but with feminine curves in all the right places, covered in black smeared grease paint. Two title belts wrapped around their torso. Their perfect, terrifying form elevates to the stage level with their shoulders heaving and body twisted into a grotesque, animalistic hunch.

They are YELENA GORGO. The Woman Who Laughs. The Mama-san. The Mad Queen.


They begin walking down the aisle but with a strange gate, more like a prowling animal, all while twisted giggles escape their mouth like a jackal's cry, causing their shoulders to hunch up and down with each hee-haw. Everyone watches their every movement. Shrieks and boos spew out of the mouths of everyone in attendance. All of them have nothing but utter contempt and disgust for Gorgo but every single one of them is standing to get a glimpse of them.

Gorgo crawls on their belly under the bottom rope and then pulls themself across the canvas to the middle of the ring. They sit up on their knees and then bend at the waist awkwardly backward, like a contortionist possessed by the devil. Then, suddenly, they lurch forward and let out a primal, howling, death metal scream with every muscle contracted and veins bulging outward through their skin as the house lights rise.

XWF Xtreme Championship Charlie Nickles or Yelena Gorgo © - vs - Sarah Wolf - vs - Lucy Wylde - vs - Game Girl - vs - Terry “Scoops” McGee Fatal 5 Way

DING! DING! DING!

As the bell tolls in the ring, each of the five competitors in the match shares a weary glance with each other. There’s a hesitancy in the air, with each of them not wanting to be the one that makes the first wrong move.

JC: We’ve got a very stacked field here tonight, folks. Only the best lining up for one of the most prestigious titles on the very best show in professional wrestling today, folks!

BG: It’s like I’m watching a Mexican standoff, here, Jack. Who’s gonna move first?

The answer soon reveals itself as Sarah Wolf, taking a good, hard look at Game Girl, scrunches her nose and immediately looks to charge her way against her! She screams, reaching her arms out!

But Game Girl sees it coming, quickly backing up to the ropes and pulls the top one down, sending Wolf flying over as she takes a nasty bump to the outside!

BG: Well, looks like we sure found our answer.

JC: Horrific fall there for Sarah Wolf! It looks like she might have severely hit her head on the way down.

BG: No time for mercy or for sympathies in a match like this, Jack. Not with the Xtreme title on the line here.

Lucy Wylde is the next one to try and make a move out of her corner, looking to stroll into the middle of the ring. However, she’s accosted on both sides, with both Scoops and Yelena Gorgo grabbing her by the arms and forcefully THROWING her into the turnbuckle! Wylde’s head visibly jerks back to hit the metal of the turnbuckle as she gingerly grasps at her head!

BG: Well, that makes two for two on traumatic head injuries coming out of this! What’s a little more CTE after how tonight’s been, right, Jack?

JC: It sure is plentiful, but that doesn’t mean it’s exactly good for business…

The standoff returns, with the three remaining competitors standing off against each other. Game Girl rubs her nose confidently as she tries to lock in. Scoops cranks his neck out, looking to get set. Gorgo licks her lips ravenously as her gaze jerks between the two.

Gorgo’s eyes finally settle on Scoops as she lunges in, dropping the old-timer with a hard forearm that drops him onto all fours! With Scoops down, Gorgo lunges towards Game Girl, taking a Muay Thai stance and looking to shoot off some vicious jabs. Game Girl gets herself caught by a good few of them, but tries to quickly answer back with a low sweep.

Gorgo manages to back away from the sweep, coming in and hitting a roundhouse to the body instead. But now it’s Game Girl who manages to come in, this time locking in a grab! Knee to the body! Knee! Knee! Punch! Game Girl tries to throw her down, but Gorgo quickly breaks out, trying for a hook to the face - but Game Girl slips underneath it!

Which allows Scoops McGee to come roaring back into this match with a double lariat to take both Gorgo and Game Girl down to the mat!

JC: Fast and furious start here to this match! Gorgo, Game Girl, Scoops - all three willing to pull out all the stops here to make sure they walk out with the gold!

BG: They better not tire themselves out too fast here, though! Especially if Scoops doesn’t have that pacemaker on tight enough…

Scoops quickly brings Yelena up, giving her a solid right hand to knock her back. He gives her an Irish Whip, shooting her into the corner. Next comes Game Girl, who he does the same with giving her a solid punch. He tries to shoot her into Gorgo’s corner with an Irish Whip… but Game Girl isn’t budging! Instead, she gives an Irish Whip into the other corner, causing Scoop to hit the turnbuckle hard!


Blue energy begins to build around Game Girl as she gets a running start around the ring! Faster and faster she goes until she’s resembling a freight train, before barrelling forward and hitting a HUGE corner splash onto Yelena! Yelena gets squashed like a pancake as her eyes widen from the impact!

Now it’s Scoops’ turn as Game Girl revs up before driving herself right into him on the other side of the ring! The old-timer wheezes from the impact, trying to keep himself upright from the harsh blow.

Now Game Girl comes back to Gorgo, looking to keep her Super-Slide going as she stretches her arms out wide again - big raised kick from Gorgo knocks Game Girl right out of it as she stumbles back to the center of the ring!

Scoops manages to come to as he brings himself out of his corner, going behind Game Girl to lift her up into an Atomic Drop! Game Girl gets sent high before coming down hard, collapsing to the mat as she grabs at her back! Scoops looks to bring the fight to Gorgo now, raising his hands as he steps forward -

BUT WAIT! Sliding into the ring, it’s Lucy Wylde with a steel chair! She stares straight at Scoops, raising the chair as she looks to try and clobber him outright -

BUT SCOOPS GRABS LUCY BY THE WRIST AND PULLS HER IN CLOSE! SHORT-ARM FOREARM KNOCKS THE LIVING DAYLIGHTS OUT OF HER AND SENDS HER OUT OF THE RING AS SHE DROPS THE CHAIR!

JC: Scoops just clobbered Lucy Wylde with that Cattle Prod! Maybe one of the most devastating strikes in the business today, and we just saw it for the first time!

BG: Alright, Jack, don’t get ahead of yourself. Besides, I think someone else has got some plans in there…

Yelena Gorgo sees her spot, and takes it! Before Scoops can go and pick up the chair, Gorgo quickly jerks Scoops around! His eyes widen as she kicks him in the gut, before grinding her long, devilish nails around his withered spine while speaking something to him that the camera can’t quite pick up. Whatever it is though brings her sadistic glee as she proceeds to scoop him up, bringing him onto her shoulder…

EMERALD FLOWSION ONTO THE STEEL CHAIR!

BG: We’re not wasting any time bringing out the hard-hitting moments, here! Yelena might have already gone through a hard-fought match with Charlie Nickles earlier in the night, but she’s not wanting to give up that Xtreme title for the world here!

JC: She might not want to, but can she manage to get the pinfall here?

Yelena hooks the leg!

OOOOOOOOOOOONE!







TWOOOOOOOOOOOOO!







KICKOOOOOOOOOOOUT!

Gorgo doesn’t let the kickout faze her though, as she snickers. She takes the steel chair out from underneath Scoops and unlatches it, opening it just enough so that she can lean down and fasten it around his neck. The fans gasp in horror as they realize what’s about to happen!

JC: Brody, I know what you were saying about ‘hard-hitting,’ but this is going to be barbaric! If Gorgo crushes that chair, Scoops’ wind pipe might go down along with it!

BG: Well, sucks to be him! Maybe Yelena can show him what a real champ looks like instead of some retirement home trash!

GORGO RAISES HER FOOT TO STOMP DOWN ON THE CHAIR…











GAME GIRL RUSHES IN THE NICK OF TIME TO TACKLE GORGO WITH A SPEAR STEP!

JC: If Game Girl was a second too late, there…

BG: She still would have been in position to hit Gorgo either way, so calm down.

Gorgo rolls back onto her feet, sweat dripping down her body as she stares at Game Girl who looks to come bring it! GG moves in, looking for a solid punch, but Gorgo ducks underneath and slips behind! She tries to go for a neckbreaker - hard elbow by Game Girl quickly breaks it up as she turns around!

As Gorgo turns around, she sees that Game Girl is looking for a bicycle knee! Gorgo grits her teeth as she manages to just catch it in the nick of time! Instead, she turns and twists her body, bringing Game Girl along with her as she manages to drop her with a Harai Goshi!

JC: Yelena Gorgo with an IPPON there! Folks, if you don’t already know, Gorgo’s a black-belt, expert judoka, and she loves using those throws to her advantage if she can!

BG: Little extra spice on that throw too, Jack. You can tell she tried throwing Game Girl right on her head there.

As Gorgo looks to the outside, she watches as Sarah Wolf has managed to retrieve a kendo stick from the outside, and is ready to use it to her advantage! Gorgo grins eagerly, reaching through the ropes to the outside to grab at Sarah’s head of hair to forcefully drag her onto the apron! Sarah yells, flailing her arms about to try and resist as the kendo stick gets thrown into the ring from it!

It doesn’t stop Gorgo though from managing to get Sarah onto the ring apron, and she reaches over to hook her arms over Sarah’s. With Sarah in a compromising position, Gorgo leans forward, and… LICKS AT HER EAR?!

JC: What the Hell is she doing live on air?!

BG: This feels like a ‘pot-meet-kettle’ situation, considering who this is happening between…

Gorgo lifts Sarah from the ring apron to the ring itself! SNAP DRAGON SUPLEX! Pinning predicament in play here!

OOOOOOOOOOOONE!











TWOOOOOOOOOOOOO!











SCOOPS BREAKS UP THE PINFALL!

BG: Close call there!

Gorgo comes back up to his feet, only to see Scoops has the kendo stick in hand! He clobbers her in the gut with it to double her over, before again bringing it down onto her back this time! He drops the stick, now picking her up before running over… SIDEWALK SLAM ONTO THE SITTING STEEL CHAIR!

JC: Payback for that Emerald Flowsion there!

BG: I’d be surprised if she’s not feeling that one in the morning…

As Scoops comes back onto his feet with Gorgo rolling out of the ring, he notices that it’s Game Girl who’s already waiting for him! The two lock eyes, slowly giving each other a nod as they begin to pace around the ring!

JC: Oh, folks, I’m excited for this. Game Girl and Scoops, both partners during Snow Holds Barred, now coming face-to-face here as they fight for the Xtreme gold!

Game Girl offers a collar-and-elbow tie-up for Scoops, but Scoops shakes his head - before booting her right in the gut! Game Girl doubles over as Scoops tries to take his chance! Lifts her up - big scoop slam onto the ring apron sends Game Girl crashing to the mat!

Scoops is feeling the energy as he turns to the fans, nodding at them as they shower him with cheers! He turns back to Game Girl without another moment wasted, quickly trying to size her up! He takes the kendo stick - and cracks it right along her back! Again and again the stick comes down, Scoops trying to soften Game Girl up!

He drags her right back up… only to wrap the kendo stick around her and drop her right back down with a hard Russian Leg Sweep! Scoops is a bit slower now to get back to his feet, but he rubs his bandana to wipe the sweat building up along him before he poses once again for the fans! He’s trying to wait for Game Girl now…


Game Girl quickly starts glowing as she gets onto all fours! Scoops doesn’t notice however as he’s running the ropes, trying for a running knee to the kneeling Game Girl!


Scoops bounces off the ropes, only for Game Girl to shoot back up and shoot her ROCKET-PROPELLED FIST RIGHT BACK AT HIM! It clobbers Scoops right on the nose as the mechanical arm sails right back to Game Girl’s robotic arm where it clicks in place!

JC: We see a lot of… unorthodox weaponry in the XWF a lot of the time, but a robotic arm that shoots itself out and can be used practically like a missile? That’s gotta be up there on the list, Brody.

BG: Makes me wish I could get one of those for me. Imagine it, Jack… ‘Bionic Brody.’

JC: Yeah… I’ll pass on that.

Scoops staggers out of the ring weakly, his eyes glassy. But as he hobbles out of the ring, he finds himself right in Yelena Gorgo’s clutches who grins ravenously once more! She locks her arms around Scoops - SNAP DRAGON SUPLEX SENDS SCOOPS’ NECK LANDING ON THE HARD METAL BARRICADE!

JC: Holy shi-

BG: HAH! Folks, I was talking way before about this whole trip of Scoops being a Suicide Tour - Gorgo over here’s trying to manifest that into reality!

Gorgo comes back onto her feet, still snickering as she admires her handiwork with Scoops laid out on ringside. In the ring, though, Game Girl feels a surge of determination charging her as Code of Valor is still active!


THE KONAMI CODE! A menu pops up over Game Girl’s head as she has a small list to choose from!


Game Girl vanishes within the blink of an eye and manifests once more right behind Yelena Gorgo!


BG: LOOK OUT, GORGO!

“Omae wa mou… shindeiru.”

“What?” Gorgo questions aloud as she starts to turn around… but Game Girl doesn’t let her! A PALM STRIKE COMES FORWARD AND HITS GORGO RIGHT IN THE SPINE WHICH CAUSES HER TO SPASM!

JC: Game Girl telling her it’s nothing personal, kid!

BG: But Gorgo looks older than her!


Gorgo turns around, gritting her teeth, but Game Girl is on the offensive again as she brings another palm forward, this time striking Gorgo right in the gut as she doubles over! Backflip kick now! Gorgo gets knocked into the air as Game Girl revs her fist up, a glowing blue energy concentrating within her - POWER-UP PUNCH!

GORGO GETS SENT FLYING THROUGH THE AIR, BUT GAME GIRL ISN’T DONE YET, PRODUCING A SPEAR WITH ROPE!

“GET OVER HERE!”

Game Girl sends it flying after Gorgo, where it latches around her leg and brings her right back to Game Girl, who grabs onto her tightly! She throws Gorgo high into the air, and…


A SURGE OF ENERGY COMES FROM GAME GIRL, RUSHING HIGH INTO THE AIR TO SLAM IT RIGHT INTO GORGO WHO GOES FLYING ELSEWHERE TO RINGSIDE!

JC: That’s Game Girl’s Hyper Combo! If Yelena didn’t get sent flying to the other side of the outside here, she could have won this match!

BG: Gorgo’s too much of a fighting champion! She shouldn’t have been booked in two title matches at once, I’m telling!

JC: Well, you can blame Charlie Nickels for getting involved in Xtreme title business and forcing Thaddeus Duke’s hand here, but I digress!

As Game Girl rights herself, she notices Sarah Wolf coming to on the outside, cleaning off the announce table to get it ready!

BG: Hey, what are you doing? Get away from here!

JC: Careful, Brody…

Game Girl searches in her inventory, before pulling out her old reliable - HER WARHAMMER! Despite it being a gargantuan size, she carries it around like it’s nothing! She sizes up Wolf and gets a running start, maneuvering around the ring… before throwing it right at Wolf! It clobbers her right on the side of the head, and as Game Girl jumps forward, she recalls the hammer right back to her!

Overhand swing! Underhand swing! Wolf gets her face knocked around like a pinball as Game Girl starts to spin around with the hammer, carrying Wolf around with her before she grabs her by the hair, and throws her right into the announce table!

But the table doesn’t break!

Regardless, it doesn’t seem to stop Game Girl as she straightens herself and wipes the sweat off her brow, putting the Warhammer back for now. But it’s just enough time for someone else to come back to and run along the apron…

SCOOPS MCGEE HITS A DIVING BULLDOG OFF THE APRON TO GAME GIRL THROUGH THE ANNOUNCE TABLE!

JC: WHAT A LEAP! SCOOPS MCGEE WITH THE PRAIRIE DOG THERE!

BG: Jack, our notes just went everywhere!

“HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT!” THE FANS ARE ON THEIR FEET CHANTING IN UNISON FOR WHAT’S BEEN A WRECKING BALL OF A MATCH!

All five competitors are down for the count for a long while, before finally it’s Scoops who manages to come back to, using the guardrail for support as he groans while holding his hip. As he stands back on his feet, he picks Game Girl up by the collar of her shirt, slowly dragging her over to the ring. As she rolls in to the middle of the ring, he follows in after her.

Scoops is measuring his mark right now as Game Girl is slow to get back onto her feet… he turns her around! Brings her up into a scoop slam position! He’s calling for it - here it comes!












PILEDRIVER!

BUT SCOOPS GETS TAKEN OUT ALONG WITH IT!

BG: What the Hell just happened?! Scoops performed the move, how’d he get knocked out when he did it?!

JC: Game Girl must have activated Mirror Mode, Brody! She may have gotten hit, but she took Scoops down along with her!

Both competitors are down! Anyone could try to take advantage right now and get the pinfall to win some Xtreme Championship gold!

And both Sarah Wolf - still groggy from the Warhammer special - and Lucy Wylde slip into the ring to try and do just that! Lucy’s holding a rope of barbed wire, but she drops it as soon as she notices what’s going on as both she and Sarah go in for double pinfalls! Lucy on Scoops, Sarah on Game Girl!

BG: What are they doing?!

JC: Are we about to see a double champ in the other sense of the term?

OOOOOOOOOOOONE!















TWOOOOOOOOOOOOO!















DOUBLE KICKOOOOOOOOOOOUT!

JC: WOW! At the same time!

BG: I almost had a heart attack from that…

As the two try to figure out a plan of attack here in this late stage of the match, who else comes back in but Yelena Gorgo? She moves right for Lucy, who tries for a straight right, but Yelena ducks it! She wraps her arms around Lucy’s waist, grabbing onto her rear as she yelps, giving Yelena just enough time to lift - NORTHERN LIGHTS SUPLEX!

BUT WAIT! YELENA ROLLS OVER BACK ONTO HER FEET, THIS TIME GRABBING ONTO LUCY WHO’S WITHIN AN ARM’S REACH! Again, Yelena grabs onto Lucy’s rear as she lifts - A SECOND NORTHERN LIGHTS SUPLEX!

And now for the third as Yelena gets back onto her feet! She grabs onto Game Girl this time, looking for the third Northern Lights Suplex-

CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!

SCOOPS MCGEE JUST CRACKED YELENA GORGO OVER THE BACK WITH A STEEL CHAIR BEFORE COLLAPSING ONCE AGAIN! YELENA FALLS ONTO HER KNEES AS GAME GIRL HAS THE OPENING SHE NEEDS!

GAME GIRL TOSSES GORGO BACK INTO THE CORNER WHERE SHE SITS, STUNNED AS SHE MOVES ON TOWARDS LUCY WYLDE! SCOOPS WEAKLY GRABS THE BARBED WIRE AWAY FROM HER AS HE ROLLS TOWARDS THE OTHER SIDE OF THE RING! HE PLACES IT RIGHT NEXT TO SARAH WOLF’S HEAD AS HE GETS BACK UP!

GAME GIRL HAS LUCY WYLDE IN HER SIGHTS, AND SHE BEGINS TO WAG HER FINGER AS THE FANS REV UP!


GAME GIRL USES METRONOME AND REVS UP FOR A ROUNDHOUSE KICK THAT TAKES LUCY’S HEAD DAMN NEAR OFF HER SHOULDERS!

JC: GAME GIRL MANIFESTING YELENA GORGO’S KICK DEMON THERE!

WHILE SCOOPS PICKS UP SARAH WOLF AND DROPS HER HEAD ONTO THE BARBED WIRE WITH A SCOOP SLAM PILEDRIVER!

BG: And Scoops is trying to show why he’s the Big Scoop!

IT’S ANOTHER DOUBLE PIN! THE REFEREE HAS TO COUNT! BUT WHO LANDED ON THEIR OPPONENT FIRST?!

OOOOOOOOOOOONE!















YELENA COMES TO AND TRIES TO LUNGE FOR ONE OF THE PINFALLS!














TWOOOOOOOOOOOOO!















YELENA LANDS ON THE CLOSER PIN FROM GAME GIRL!














THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

JC: SCOOPS MCGEE JUST SHOCKED THE WORLD, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!

BG: No, no! This can’t be happening!

Winner and NEW Xtreme Champion: SCOOPS MCGEE!

THE FANS ARE ON THEIR FEET, CLAPPING AND CHEERING FOR THEIR NEW CHAMP! And as the referee gives the title to Scoops, he takes the weathered Xtreme Championship with tears in his eyes and hugs it close to him!

JC: What a moment this is, Brody. Scoops McGee, icon of the wrestling world, a champion again at 63 years of age! Who can believe it?

BG: I don’t think anyone can, Jack… and that’s not a good thing here!

Scoops looks up from across the ring, on both knees to see Game Girl across the ring from him, on her knees as well. She was just fingertips away from maybe having her pin be counted first… but she nods to the legend, and extends a fist towards him in respect!

AND SCOOPS MEETS IT WITH A FIST BUMP! THE POP GROWS EVEN LOUDER AS THE TWO SHARE THEIR ENERGY WITH EACH OTHER!

JC: What a way to cap off our main event, Brody! Fans, be sure to stick around - I’m hearing word that we’ll be hearing from the new Universal Champion NEXT!

Warfare fades to commercial as the show rolls on.

---

“Power, prestige, respect.

Some say it’s earned, other’s believe it’s taken…”

A closeup short of luxurious leather, ordained with little embossed thrones and crowns.

A closer-up shot of a plump, plush seat.

A embroidered gold and scarlet crown adorns the back of chair, glimmering in the dim light.

“But we saw, it’s hand made.”

The video zooms out to show you a beautiful leather massage chair, shining under a single spotlight.

“XWF’s got a new Champion, a new King… While another sets up a tournament to crown another…. Why not watch it all in the comfort of your very own Throne…

Presenting you, OrunTech’s latest masterpiece, The Throne Massage Chair - only for true kings and queens.”

Back to your regularly scheduled programming
[/event]

As we cut back to Monday Night Warfare, the ring looks markedly different. A velvet carpet covers the ring, right in its middle, alone - sits a grand, gold and black throne. A regal red carpet flows down from the ring to the top of the entrance, torn and frayed - like it's been walked on by decades of men.

A single spotlight illuminates the throne, with the others centred on the entrance.

Some heavy 808’s blast through the speakers, as another spotlight highlights a man standing on the announcer’s desk. Clad in a white leather jacket, and a white gloved hand, he is this intentionally renowned…

BG
ITS KENDRICK!!



Kendrick:
“I got a bone to pick
I don't want you monkey mouth motherfuckers sittin' in my throne again
(Aye aye nigga whats happenin' nigga, K Dot back in the hood nigga)
I'm mad (He mad), but I ain't stressin'
True friends, one question
Bitch where you when I was walkin'?
Now I run the game got the whole world talkin', King Kunta
Everybody wanna cut the legs off him, Kunta
Black man taking no losses
Bitch where you when I was walkin'?
Now I run the game, got the whole world talkin', King Kunta
Everybody wanna cut the legs off him!”

The crowd is worked up into a frenzy, singing along with the rap giant. Theirs hands shoot in the air, and the whole stadium is up on their feet.

Kendrick:
“Hold up, hands in the air now!
Everybody say, we want the funk!
Louder! Say, we want the funk!
Louders! Say, we want the funk!
This side, say, we want the funk!
This side, say, we want the funk!
This side, say, we want the funk!
This side, say, we want the funk!
Everybody in the motherfuckin’ building say - We want the funk!”

The track cuts, the light vanishing off Kendrick, and flickering back to the stage. Kendrick's voice echoes through the crowd.

Kendrick:
“Ladies and gentlemen, presenting to you a friend, a fighter, like me… He is royalty….Everybody wanna cut the legs off him… Coming out for hopefully a long time to me and a few friends - He is YOUR Universal Champion… Isaiah King!”



Kendrick:
“I gotta' bone to pick”

Kendrick raps his own lines to the beat as Isaiah King emerges at the top of the ramp. The massive screen behind him flickers to life—a montage of destruction. The Crown Shatterer. The Guillotine of Destruction. Each a death sentence, each sending another warrior into oblivion.

Isaiah stands beneath the spotlight, bathed in gold and shadow. The Universal Championship isn’t strapped around his waist in triumph—it’s slung over his shoulder, a burden, not a prize. His shoulders are draped in a royal gold asa-oke jacket, regal yet battle-worn. He strides forward, down a crimson carpet that stretches to the ring, torn and frayed—like it’s been walked on by ghosts of kings before him. His eyes sweep through the sea of fans, but he never locks onto anyone. No handshakes. No photos. No smiles. Just a solitary march toward destiny.

He ascends the steps, slipping through the ropes with measured precision. He circles the throne—once, twice—then stops to its right. Slowly, he lifts the title into the air, not looking at it, as if the weight of it is secondary to the meaning behind it. As he lowers the belt, the arena’s lights rise just a little. A microphone is handed to him.

Isaiah King
“K, killing it as usual. Thank you, my brother.”

The crowd roars for the West Coast legend. Kendrick throws up a peace sign before hopping down from the announce table, settling into a chair by commentary, while the announcers are still losing their minds.
Isaiah paces around the throne once more.

Isaiah King
"There is a new power in the XWF.
One forged in blood and sweat…
One that shattered the foundations of an empire…
One that left two of the greatest to ever do it broken at my feet.”

He stops, running a hand along the top of the throne.

Isaiah King
"Won by my hands."

A pause. He lets the weight of the words settle before continuing.

Isaiah King
"That much, even my worst enemies must admit. I fought for this. I bled for this. I earned this. And when I should have felt unstoppable…
…I felt something else.
Unfinished."

The arena hangs on his every breath.

Isaiah King
"Snow Hold’s Barred… What’s the image burned into your minds?
Me, clutching the most coveted prize in wrestling?
Or was it the broken body of Sebastian Everett Bryce, his reign in ashes?
Was it the hollow stare of Johnny Bacchus as his carefully laid schemes crumbled to dust?
Or was it the blood-stained grin of Charlie Nickles, reveling in the chaos he unleashed?"

Murmurs ripple through the crowd—scattered cheers for SEB, a chant for Bacchus, and even a sick cheer for Nickles.

Isaiah King
"Funny thing. I read the headlines, too. Articles dissecting the ‘shock’ of the Emperor’s fall. Think pieces on the tragedy of Johnny vs. Sebastian remaining unfinished. Endless debates about how it should have ended."

Isaiah scoffs, shaking his head.

Isaiah King
"Yeah. Real unfortunate, isn’t it? I’m real unfortunate.
I came in. Disrupted everything. Killed your golden narratives. Stomped on your little dreams.
Always the spoiler. Never the star.

The bell rang, my name echoed through the stadium… And yet not a single eye was on me.”

A quiet, rueful chuckle escapes as he lightly taps his fingers against the top of the throne. Then, his voice hardens.

Isaiah King
"What nobody seems to understand is…
I didn’t just win a championship at Snow Hold’s Barred. I didn’t just win THE championship.
I stole the moment all of you were waiting for."

He leans in slightly, his voice carrying venom now.

Isaiah King
"Sebastian? Left in the dust. Empire in ruins.
Bacchus? Left staring at a war with no victor. And the best part?"

He smirks.

Isaiah King
"None of you saw it coming."

Isaiah paces around the throne once more, shifting the belt from shoulder to shoulder, never quite seeming settled.

Isaiah King
So while you’re all sitting here, wondering whats next for Bacchus or SEB. What’s next for Kieren King or the slew of other people in the King of the Ring tournament… Know this - I am no footnote in your story. Their story. My reign is no hiccup before we go to your regularly scheduled programming…

Let’s be clear - the King of the XWF isn’t waiting to be decided, no matter what March says.
I’m here.

This title isn’t a placeholder.

I’m no obstacle in someone elses’ redemption story.

I am the damn final chapter…

Whether you’ll follow me, or let me stand here alone.”


The lights flicker as “The Gnashing” by Deafheaven erupts through the speakers before Isaiah can continue.  Without the fanfare of his usual entrance, Jonathan Bacchus walks out to the roar of a split crowd. His face is mostly stoic, bar that grin that people are so used to… Now with a corner just weighed down with frustration.

BG
That’s what happens when you’ve got Bacchus’ name on your lips, like Beetlejuice, he just shows up!

He keeps one hand in his pants pocket, his coat pushed back casually from his waist, while the other hangs by his side, just beside the microphone slung in a holster at his belt like a revolver.  He looks melancholy — weary, even.  He strolls casually, occasionally slapping or shaking an outstretched hand but never taking his eyes from the ring even as he does so.  At the base of the ramp, he crosses to the steps, climbs to the apron, and wipes his boots before entering through the ropes.

He circles the ring slowly, perhaps deliberately, his eyes and Isaiah’s on one another’s.  As he steps forward, the music fades — he draws the microphone from the holster, taps it once against his chest to ensure it’s on, and then raises it to his mouth.

Jonathan Bacchus
“Congratulations, Isaiah — you earned it.”

A pause — an almost confused reaction?

Jonathan Bacchus
“Getting your name back, I mean — or, I guess.  If that’s what this is all about: how the reign of the Prince lasted — uh…”

He looks down at his watch.

Jonathan Bacchus
“Half a year?  Gettin’ a little rebrand just to remind everyone they liked Coke Classic?  Whatever, man, good for you — the ‘Prince Royalty’ name was a little redundant.  Bit of a mouthful.”

Isaiah looks less than thrilled at the “joke”, he rolls his eyes and glares back at the insurgent with disgust.

Jonathan Bacchus
“But I’m not out here to pass phonaesthetic judgements.  I’m out here to set some records straight, and also because this whole… ‘thing’... has me somewhat bemused.

Who is this for, Isaiah?  Is it for them — the people gathered here to witness your first Joyous Entry?  Papa Malachi shelled out the big bucks to get you top tier entertainment; even got you a comfy chair to shill.  Bread and circuses to go along with the royal edict: nothing Canadians love more than transparent pitches for expensive novelties and their favorite rapper’s archnemesis.”

That small smile crosses his lips.

Jonathan Bacchus
“It’s not for them.  Don’t lie to us and pretend it is.  And if it isn’t for them then it must be for you, correct?”

Now that smile inches up, as his head tilts down and he stares at Isaiah from under his brow.

Jonathan Bacchus
“After all, this is your moment. You deserve this. Correct?
So.  Just as I said previously… ‘Why am I not convinced?’  And more importantly — Prince Adeyemi — why are you not convinced?”

He lets the words hang in the air, gauging the champion’s reaction as he lifts his head up, now tilting it back as though to literally look down his nose at King.

Jonathan Bacchus
“You won, Isaiah!  The king is dead, long live the king!  You toppled a legendary reign in this company, redeemed yourself almost a year to the day of your prior humiliation.  They probably got a singing Hornbill on the way for your next entrance — you can name him Polonius, it’ll be great!”

Isaiah pretends to hold a book, flipping through imaginary pages to find Bacchus’ references.

Jonathan Bacchus
“So why Isaiah, does it not just feel but feel obvious that this celebration isn’t for them… it isn’t for you… it’s for me?  Could it be that you’ve talked more about Sebastian and myself than you have about your accomplishment?  That little flicker in the back of your head which insists something’s not ‘right’?  That after two months of hemming, hawing, and peacocking to ensure you weren’t only in the spotlight but the only one in the spotlight…”

A pause.  His expression darkens.

Jonathan Bacchus
“You can’t help but feel like you’re missing something — and that maybe by your own hand and actions, your own desire to be under the brightest of lights… you’ve blotted them out to cast yourself a backlit silhouette.
And now’s the time I set some records straight.”

He continues to regard Isaiah, drawing the silence for tension.

Jonathan Bacchus
“Firstly: I have never said that my objective was to claim the championship from Sebastian Everett-Bryce — I merely said he was an unacceptable champion who needed to be removed.  That objective’s been accomplished, so congratulations Isaiah and ‘thank you’ — I didn’t even need to pull a string or whisper in your ear.

Second: in spite of your insistence as to my ‘carefully laid schemes’... you may recall that I left my compatriots in the locker room and it was interference on your behalf which occurred.
So.  Tell me — Prince Adeyemi...”

Bacchus gets directly into the champion’s face, his expression a wry smile.

Jonathan Bacchus
“Who is this for?  Is it a celebration of your win?  A massaging of your ego?  Or is it a little peek into the mirror so you can tell yourself this is more than a regency while ignoring the Sword of Damocles above your head?”

Isaiah’s scoffs, at first staring first at Bacchus before looking right through him.

[shadow=grey]Isaiah King
“Leave it to Johnathan Bacchus to get a sense of the undertones, read between the lines and then trip all over them on his way to the ring. Classic. Always so eager to turn someone else’s story into your own monologue, a tortured soul. We do love a man who loves his leather and his Shakespeare, very twenty-first century tortured soul. I hope you’ll give me the privilege of not being interrupted for a second.”

Isaiah takes a step back from the throne, and from Bacchus, instead leaning against the ropes of one side of the ring, arms outstretched and the title glistening in the light.

Isaiah King
“But you’re right about one thing - unconvinced, that’ss exactly where I was headed. Perhaps with a little too much subtlety for your theatre-mask loving sensibilities? That’s the word hanging over this ring, over the heads of this crowd around us, back in the locker room… Over me.“
Isaiah taps the belt on his shoulder, still eyes never once laying on it.

Isaiah King
“I won this title, I burned down an empire. And still, just an afterthought. The whispers don’t call this my era. Instead, they prop up a parade of others—those who had the most impressive year, the most impressive January.  I took the heads of two of 2024’s biggest forces. I carved my name into history, and still—still—they’d rather talk about my tag run than my reign.

It’s always been like this. When I first held the TV belt. When I carried those Tag Titles for a full damn year. When I first became Universal Champion. Every time, I was just the placeholder. The warm-up act. The footnote before someone funnier, flashier, more marketable took center stage. Just another stopgap until Twitter’s favourite flavour of the month came knocking.

And you, Bacchus? You said it before Snow Hold’s Barred, and you’re saying it now. Mr. I-Like-To-Read-Every-Novel, Dr Penguin Classics, still singing the same tired song. And you know what? I agree with you. Maybe you’re right. Maybe I haven’t proved them wrong yet.

But that’s the thing about songs. Eventually, they stop playing. And when your song stops playing, all that’s left will be me.

Remember, I already put you down, sure Charlie had a little… Unintended part to play in that. But you of all people would know - all’s fair in love and war. You were simply the weaker target, and another predator found you while you were straggling and bleeding at the back of the pack.

I snapped your neck like another off-tune mockingbird, and just like you I’ll cull all of your kind - those who sit… Unconvinced. I’ve already dealt with you, it’s just the echoes of your bullshit that still ring across this stadium. That’ll soon come to pass too…

No, this is no King coming to sit on his throne comfortably. This court is held to bring to light the bullshit on everyone's mind. This is a trial. A reign that begins not with celebration, but reckoning. No, I will be a champion that shows everyone rooting for another, that they’re foolishly misguided. And everyone with nobody in their corner…. That their time has come.

This is the rise of the Lonely King, not his inauguration. It is no time for anyone to sit on this throne.”


Jonathan Bacchus
“Then allow me to pay my respects, your excellence…”

He moves even closer, and Isaiah instinctively readies himself… but Bacchus does not raise a hand to him.  Instead, he dangles a finger over Isaiah’s head — a Sword of Damocles.

Jonathan Bacchus
“All haile Isaiah, haile to thee Thane of Glamis.
All haile Isaiah,  haile to thee Thane of Cawdor.
All haile Isaiah, that shalt be King hereafter.”

The lights dim, and the crowd begins to murmur -

Jonathan Bacchus
“Okay”


The opening sirens of Sweatpants [Battletapes Remix] by Childish Gambino hits - the crowd pop the letters S.E.B. flash up on the screen. Lights strobe throughout the arena, then the music drops for the line.
"Rich kid asshole, paint me as a villain"

BG
And here comes the former champion…

The beat drops and the lights lift - Sebastian Everett-Bryce stands at the top of the ramp, his eyes fixed on the ring. Unlike usual, Seb is dressed simply in Jeans and a SEB Empire t-shirt. He begins his stride to the ring, ignoring the fans asking for high fives as he goes.
As he reaches the bottom of the ramp, Seb climbs onto the apron and steps through the ropes into the ring. Jonathan faces him, an amused smile upon his face. As Seb’s music comes to an end, Bacchus gives a little salute.

Jonathan Bacchus
“Hey budd—“

But as he says it, Seb breaks into a sprint, leaps… and his right foot extended and connects perfectly with Bacchus’ jaw.

BG
EMPIRE KICK OUT OF NO-WHERE!

Jonathan crashes to the mat hard, and Seb immediately begins to yell at him. He grips Bacchus by the air, forcing him to look up into Seb’s face as he yells that it’s not over. Not between the two of them.
Seb releases Bacchus who rolls towards the corner of the ring as Seb gets to his feet and lets out a yell of pure adrenaline as he surveys the crowd who are on their feet for the explosive attack. Seb pulls off the t-shirt he’s wearing and tosses it out into the crowd before he holds his arms out wide.

And as if suddenly remembering he’s not alone, Sebastian slowly turns to face the man who defeated him at Snow Holds Barred. The XWF Universal Champion is unmoved as he and S.E.B. make eye contact - they survey one another for a moment, as the crowd anticipates fireworks.

However, it’s Seb that breaks the stare first as Bacchus, working almost entirely on instinct has slowly started to pull himself back up in the corner, Seb’s mouth curls into a sneering grin as he slowly backs to the corner. Jonathan, back on his feet but unsteady, staggers out from the corner, almost losing his footing. The stagger turns him 180 as he keeps his feet as S.E.B. blasts him one more time with another Empire Kick that leaves Bacchus on the flat of his back in the middle of the ring.

This time, Sebastian leaves Bacchus laying and gets back to his feet. This time, he doesn’t look up at Adeyemi. He merely turns and hops out of the ring, and begins to walk back up the ramp from where he’d once walked.

The Prince stands beside Bacchus’ unmoving body, eyes boring holes into the back of the man he pinned for the championship on his shoulder. His mask wavers, and he bites down on his lip to control himself. Seb makes his way all the way to the top before Isaiah’s self-control breaks. He slams a foot into the back of the throne, sending it flying across the ring. Fury.

Isaiah King
“Unconvinced! You two can fight it out for all I care, just know that when it mattered most, both of you came up short.”

Flinging the microphone across the ring, Isaiah steps over Bacchus’ body just as “King Kunta” by Kendrick hits the speakers and he makes his way out through the crowd. The lights go out with Bacchus and the broken velvet throne lay still in the middle of the ring.

---

As we come back from the commercial break we hear the crackling of a warm winter fire and then the scene comes into focus. We see the two young children sitting at what appears to be the family dinner table. A young brunette girl approximately 6 years of age and a young boy about one year old seated in a high chair. As the camera zooms out we see the back of an older man’s head seated at the head of the table just as a middle aged blonde woman steps into the picture. The woman places the family meal onto the center of the table as the camera then swings around revealing the man’s face for the first time. Theo Pryce looks up at the camera and smiles as the scene quickly fades to black.

---

THANKS TO... MATCH WRITERS Liam Desmond Aurora Peter Principle SEGMENT WRITERS Jonathan Bacchus Kieran King James Shark Theo Pryce ??? AND EVERYONE WHO RP'D!

Holy fuck if that ain’t a show and a half I don’t know what is. I remember back a couple years ago sometimes Warfare cards would be like 3 singles matches and 1 squash match. It’s legitimately crazy how many talented folks we got in the XWF right now and it really feels like every card another new name rises up and kicks major ass. Props to Gorgo for grabbing my belt, and shout outs to Scoops for coming in hot with the main event win and grabbing it again!

Dolly & Dyson are some serious mf tag champs…..I’m fantasy booking them against TNGB at the pay per view. I don’t care about logistics or opt ins, that’s why it’s called fantasy booking.

Prince Adeyemi gave me serious goosebumps with his final line.

And a rare Theo Pryce sighting in the wild?!?!! This show had everything!!!!!!! He’s a certified OG.

(02-11-2025, 09:39 AM)Charlie Nickles Said: I’m fantasy booking them against TNGB at the pay per view. I don’t care about logistics or opt ins, that’s why it’s called fantasy booking.

Well 3/4 of this is already happening on Anarchy so tune in there!

(02-11-2025, 09:39 AM)Charlie Nickles Said: Holy fuck if that ain’t a show and a half I don’t know what is. I remember back a couple years ago sometimes Warfare cards would be like 3 singles matches and 1 squash match. It’s legitimately crazy how many talented folks we got in the XWF right now and it really feels like every card another new name rises up and kicks major ass. Props to Gorgo for grabbing my belt, and shout outs to Scoops for coming in hot with the main event win and grabbing it again!

Dolly & Dyson are some serious mf tag champs…..I’m fantasy booking them against TNGB at the pay per view. I don’t care about logistics or opt ins, that’s why it’s called fantasy booking.

Prince Adeyemi gave me serious goosebumps with his final line.

And a rare Theo Pryce sighting in the wild?!?!! This show had everything!!!!!!! He’s  a certified OG.

Thanks for the matchup! Really enjoyed your piece!

Just want to shout out to the writer of the Tact/Aurora match. Absolute fire. The attention to detail was so spot on, absolutely incredible. 

Thank you ♥️

Ditto on a well paced and overall hot match between Tact/Aurora. And props to Rory on the great RP. Really glad we got to have it. 

XWF is such a rocking place. I'm still getting acclimated and it's a fun time reading through such excellent writing from handlers and matchwriters. Honestly don't know how it all gets done so well. Looking forward to the next one.