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X-treme Wrestling Federation » Warfare Boards » Warfare Results
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Weekend Warfare - 8/26/23 - Results
Author Message
SBW-SmokingBobWilliams Offline
XWF Management
Management Lv. 2



XWF FanBase:
Some of everyone

(cheered; very rarely plays dirty but isn't lame either; many likable qualities)


#1
08-26-2023, 10:43 PM



08 - 26 - 2023




LIVE FROM THE GRAND CANYON



THE GRAND CANYON, ARIZONA




NORTH KOREAN WAR CRIMINAL
- vs -
TOMMY GUNN
Warfare Rules - Standard Singles





"BIG PUDDIN" HERSCHEL KISS
- vs -
R.L. EDGAR
Warfare Rules - Standard Singles





MELANIE "CRAYZEE" CHILDS
- vs -
ALICE KNIGHT
Warfare Rules - Standard Singles





BOBBY BOURBON
- vs -
NED KAYE
Warfare Rules - Standard Singles 







DIONYSUS ©
- vs -
LATINA SUBMISSION MACHINA
Warfare Rules - Dionysus To Name The Match Stip In His First Promo









MARK FLYNN ©
- vs -
MERCY
Warfare Rules - Xtreme Rules







With a suitcase rolling behind him, his number one fan Irwin beside him, and the X-Treme Title belt on his shoulder, Mark Flynn walks through the backstage area with purpose.

HHL: There’s Mark Flynn, the X-Treme champion!

PIP: And he looks none too happy!

HHL: Makes sense considering his 24/7 briefcase was stolen by his old tag-team partner, the North Korean War Criminal.

Flynn occasionally glances to his left and right… Like he’s looking for someone peering out from the shadows.

”Are you sure he’s here, Mister Flynn?” Irwin posits.

Flynn sniffs. ”Ohhhh, he’s here.” Flynn nods. ”He’s so close, I can smell him.”

Flynn gets another whiff, spinning around…

Straight into the chest of XWF Lead Enforcer, Tommy Gunn.

…Flynn peers up at the man whose got a good five inches on him.

”Hey, Tom-Tom. See any War Criminals wandering around?”

…Gunn regards Flynn with utter disdain.

”Mister Pryce wants me to escort you to your locker room.”

…Flynn scoffs.

”And people in ice water want hell. We can’t all get what we want, Tomcat.”

Flynn tries to step past Gunn. But, Gunn steps to further impede the X-Treme champion’s path.

”Mister Pryce wants me to escort you DIRECTLY to your locker room.”

…Flynn exhales.

”Tom. I’m trying to be a GOOD GUY these days. I really, really am. So, I don’t WANT to make you look stupid.”



”But, if you get between me and the War Criminal tonight? I will pers-”

”Mister Pryce.” Gunn cuts in. ”Wants me to assure you that the War Criminal situation is under control. I am to lead you to your locker room, that you might prepare for your Main Event match tonight.”

…Flynn side-eyes Gunn. He snorts impatiently.



He exhales impatiently.

”You tell Theo…”



Flynn sighs.

”That I… APPRECIATE his wanting to help. I do. But, I ain’t Ned, Thaddy Warbucks or Raion… I don’t need business daddy sweeping in to clean up a mess I made a year ago. I GOT IT.”

Flynn again tries to sidestep Gunn.



Nothing doing.

Gunn doesn’t move an inch.

”The War Criminal has improper possession of XWF property. This IS an XWF matter that the management team has a partic-... particle…”

”Particularized interest in.” Flynn scoffs. ”Don’t give yourself an aneurysm, Tom.”



Flynn waves his arm. ”Thanks, but no thanks on the escort. I can find my locker on my own without the Hall Monitor breathing down my neck.”

He turns and heads for his locker room. Irwin rapidly follows with his suitcase in tow.



Gunn spins off… following an arrow pointing toward…



THEO PRYCE’S OFFICE


”Gentlemen.”

Theo sits at his desk as three figures sit in his chairs

”I hired you to run the XWF’s flagship program. Not simply for your management talents, but because of your ability to solve complex problems.”

Theo assesses each of his managers with a stern, somber glance.

”And I would describe this briefcase situation as a… complex problem.”

“Our X-Treme champion’s briefcase is currently in the possession of someone… currently NOT under XWF contract: The North Korean War Criminal.”


…A hand raises.

“NK’s not under contract?” Smokin’ Bob Williams proffers, incredulously. “So, how the hell he keep popping up ‘round here?”



“Well, Bob. NK is currently claiming he is Chad GPT. Who IS under an Anarchy contract. And, despite the best efforts of our security staff… Somehow, we haven’t been able to prove he isn’t who he says he is.”

“Have they tried THEIR eyes?” Bob scoffs, in disbelief.

“To your second question: How does NK keep popping up around here?” Theo continues, undeterred by Bob’s dry southern wit. “NK has managed to… bypass the efforts of our security team.”

“Heheh.” Smokin’ Bob chuckles. “Like steppin’ through an open gate. Does your security team even do anything ‘round h-”

KERUNCH!

…The hair on the back of Smokin’ Bob’s neck stands… He slowly turns around.

XWF’s Lead Security Enforcer, Tommy Gunn, has just crushed his canteen in his hand.

…Not a disposable bottle. Like a metal canteen. Just CRUSHED in his hands.

“...Oh, uh…” Bob stutters. “Tommy Boy. Didn’t… uh… didn’t see you back there.”

Theo nods at Tommy. “Mister Gunn has assured me that the security issues have been resolved, will be resolved tonight, and should be considered resolved moving forward. But that does not undo the damage already done: A talent of questionable relation to the company, keeping illegitimate, physical possession of a 24/7 briefcase.”



Theo nods toward the center chair.

“Peter.”

Peter Principle stops staring at the floor, almost like he’s waking up from a nap. He stands up when he’s addressed, even though everyone else was sitting down.

“Yes, Mister Pryce!”

“Do you have any ideas?”



“Oh! Ideas! …Uh… Sure!”

Peter blows air out of his mouth, genuinely considering that question.



“What if… uh… we made clothes for cats?”



“Like, Cat Fashion. Maybe… like Levi’s Jeans, but it’s… uh… Feline’s jeans?”



Cut to Peter in his own XWF office.

[Image: Michael_Scott_480x480.jpg?v=1639817804]

“I’m great at ideas. I have a ton of ideas.”

He reaches under his desk and pulls out a notepad.

He reads directly off the first page…

“What if plants had clothes… What if cars had clothes… What if clothes had clothes?”

Peter looks back at the camera.

“Like, what if you were wearing a hat? And then your hat had its own hat? I think that... Uh… I think people would pay for that.”



Peter looks back at the writing pad.

“What if CHILDREN had clothes?”



Theo clears his throat.

“There might have been some confusion there. I meant more… ideas about this briefcase situation.”

“Oh, wow…” Peter solemnly nods, taking in that concept.



“What if briefcases had clothes?”



”Like… uh… what if the 24/7 briefcase had a… large pair of novelty sunglasses.”

”Sit down.”

Peter immediately sits back down, smiling smugly at Smokin’ Bob, like he totally nailed that pitch.



Theo slowly turns toward the last chair in the room.

“Jonathan.”

Jonathan Barrows, who has been silent this entire time, leans forward. Like he knew batters one and two wouldn’t get on base, so he’d have to hit a home run.

“Any thoughts?”

Barrows grins, exuding confidence and swagger.

“Wel-”

CRUNCH!

…Barrows’ eye twitches.

Barrows leans backward over his chair at Tommy Gunn, looming behind them. Exuding menace… Having crushed a SECOND metal canteen.

It’s pretty clear Gunn is taking it personally that these four are trying to solve a security problem. That’s his job.

Barrows shrugs, turning back toward Theo.

“If your rent-a-cop back there claims the area is secure under his watch… Why doesn’t he prove it? Why doesn’t HE get the briefcase back?”



Theo’s vision shifts toward Tommy.



“Well, Gunn? Can you get the job done?”

Tommy Gunn, the XWF’s Lead Enforcer…

Throws what’s left of his canteen into the trash.

Cracks his neck.

And leaves the office.



“Man.”



“What if guns had clothes?”



HHL: Folks, this first match… might get ugly!

PIP: Absolutely, Heather. One of these competitors might just be the dirtiest player in XWF history… And the other is the enforcer of the rules, the XWF’s head of security!

HHL: These two have run into each other a handful of times in the past, but NEVER in the ring!

PIP: But that? Is about to change!

The camera pans to the ring where Tommy Gunn has just finished making his entrance. He pulls his elbows back behind his ears, and swings his arms around, stretching in anticipation for his opponent.

HHL: Surprising Tommy doesn’t get an intro song and walkout gravitas, huh, Pip?

PIP: I don’t think Tommy believes in an ounce of that, Heather. He is all business and looking to collect that briefcase, which Theo has declared is illegitimately taken property of the XWF!

As Gunn stretches, the X-Tron whirs to life!

Waving proudly on the X-Tron…

[Image: north-korea.gif]

The Official Flag of North Korea!

NKWC walks, each step immaculately flawless, to the tune of the North Korean National Anthem. In his hands, he wields a ceremonial sword. HIs body is… all-black. Including his hands. He looks like a cyborg. But, on his shoulders, he wears his trademark military jacket.

In his hands… He lifts over his head like a trophy of war…

[Image: 247shot.gif]

MARK FLYNN’S 24/7 BRIEFCASE!

HHL: Ohhhhhh… You have to imagine Flynn is not happy about that!

Flanking NK on both sides, a wondrous orchestra of True Koreans trumpet out the most beautiful melody any man could ever hear: The DPRK National Anthem.

Two cadets walk several paces after him wielding the glorious flag of True Korea, wavering majestically overhead, leading the way to a brighter future for all mankind. Wherever he is, the True Leader of the Free World, Kim Jong Un sheds a single of tear of pride for the Greatest Warrior on the Planet, aside from himself.

HHL: The North Korean War Criminal! One of the longest-reigning Tag Champs in XWF History!

PIP: Before his partner tossed him into an electrical box! We all reasonably thought that that might be the last time we ever saw the War Criminal compete in a wrestling ring… Ever!

HHL: But he’s made his shocking return last Warfare! And he’s sworn to take EVERYTHING from his old partner! By any means necessary!

NKWC sheds off the jacket of his military uniform, sets down his ill-gotten briefcase beside the steel steps, and walks up the steps into the ring. NK’s cadets catch the jacket and, without letting it or the flag hit the ground and touching filthy North American soil, quietly scurry back up the ramp.

PIP: There is ZERO love loss between these two men, Heather.

HHL: Absolutely, Pip. Gunn already hated NK’s constant breaking of the rules and diva attitude… But, now, NK stole an XWF’s superstars briefcase… I think Tommy sees that as a poor reflection on his job performance as Lead Security Enforcer.

PIP: As he should, Heather! He’s the head of security around here! And we’ve had someone technically not on the roster anymore, just popping his head in and harassing people!”

NK raises his hands at both sides… Beckoning for the crowd.

They hoop and holler! Cheering for the return of the North Korean War Criminal.

Gunn sneers… He grabs both ropes around the turnbuckle, like he’s ready to pounce.

HHL: It’s been a while since we’ve seen Tommy Gunn compete in a ring, Pip!

PIP: True, Heather! Almost a year! But that doesn’t mean he’s not very dangerous in that ring!

The bell rings!

NORTH KOREAN WAR CRIMINAL
- vs -
TOMMY GUNN
Singles


The moment the bell rings, Tommy immediately hits the mat, going for a leg sweep!

HHL: Gunn, looking to take advantage of his opponent’s cockiness with the fundam-

In a flash, NK leaps into the air… Gunn turns his body upwards to catch the War Criminal in a sla-

WHAM! With FLAWLESS body control, NK brings down his fist… Gunn just about ran STRAIGHT into the War Criminal’s punch, rebounding off his extended arm!

PIP: Wow! That whole sequence was a second-and-a-half and NK was completely ready for everything Gunn had planned!

Gunn eats that fist… backwards rolling to land on his feet.

…NK chuckles, beckoning Gunn with an open palm.

“Come, Fascist Gunn! Bring to me the best you have!”

…Gunn snorts angrily.

He charges forward! Launching a punch sequence!

RIGHT STRAIGHT!

NK blocks it with his left hand… As effortlessly as plucking a grape off the vine, he stops Gunn’s punch!

Undeterred, Gunn throws a…

LEFT CROSS!

NK dips backwards lackadaisical… The punch grazes just millimeters past his nose.

Gunn sees an opening! He steps in!

RIGHT HAYMAKER! Gunn’s fist sweeps sideways across the War Criminal’s sk-

Like a MACHINE… NK’s neck twists under Gunn’s nearly-technically perfect punch.

”Ooooooh, my sensors detect an opening…”

Before Gunn can retract his arm, NK dips forward…

WHAM! A right-handed body blow straight to the solarplexus! Gunn’s whole chest caves in… As he wobbles backwards into the ropes…

The crowd oooooohs from that shot.

HHL: Wow! It looks like that one knocked the wind out of Tommy Gunn!

PIP: First wind, second wind… Maybe all the winds in the human body!

…Gunn grabs the rope, leaning over to catch his breath.

The official puts a hand up so War Criminal will back o-

”Ah! I detect another opening!”

As if the official wasn’t there, NK moves so fast, it’s almost like he walks through the referee.

And STOMPS SIDEWAYS! on Gunn’s ankle!

SNAP!

PIP: ….ooooooh, that’s no good.

Gunn flops beside the rope, gritting his teeth in pain. That stomp might have just snapped something in Gunn’s lower leg!

NK beckons toward his adoring public, demanding their applause! They come alive on their feet, whooping and hollering!

HHL: Why the HELL are these people cheering the War Criminal? He just blatantly ignored the official and attacked an opponent with legal grip on the ropes!

PIP: Yeah, but… c’mon, there’s something oddly charming in the way he did it!

NK closes his eyes, basking in the adoration of the XWF Universe.

PIP: This one’s over… There’s no way Gunn can continue with a busted leg.

HHL: Try telling Tommy Gunn that!

Indeed, Gunn snorts angrily… Pushing off of his uninjured ankle, with all he has… He scrambles onto one foot!

The War Criminal is too busy awash in applause to block! Tommy catches him under the arms!

HHL: Tommy Gunn, ignoring the pain, going for a win!

He dive-tackles the War Machine, latching onto the North Korean’s waist!

[red]HHL: Ah! Blunder by the War Criminal! Gunn may be wounded, but his mat wrestling is among the best in XWF history! This match might just flip in momentum!


Gunn heaves with all his might, looking to take the War Criminal off his feet…



Nothing doing. NK pats Gunn on the head with one hand, and flexes his all-black metallic-looking bicep with the other.

”Haha! A noble attempt for the lapdog of a capitalist swine!

PIP: Uh… Pretty sure Gunn has lifted guys almost twice his size before.

HHL: It’s possible with all that metal under the hood, NK’s a lot bigger than even twice Gunn’s size.

Gunn refuses to give up… He tries to dig his good heel into the mat… Heaving with all he has.

The War Criminal, covers his mouth yawning… Before lifting his arms above his head…

WHAM! DOUBLE AXE HANDLE to the back of Gunn’s skull! The Lead Enforcer of the XWF drops flat on his face.

…He tries to crawl… With the last of his strength… Back to a vert-...



Nope. He falls unconscious.

The official goes to signal for the bell! It’s a victory by TKO for the War Crim-

What!?!

”GASP! FASCIST GUNN WOULD LIKE TO FIGHT ON!”

NK reaches down and lifts Gunn off the mat, as easily as if he were a left-behind penny.

PIP: NK, apparently deciding he’s not done with Tommy Gunn.

HHL: Oh c’mon! The War Criminal’s already beaten Gunn! Enough is enough!

The official asks NK to drop Gunn and let him call off the match.

The War Criminal shrugs as holds Gunn in the air, like If he wants to fight on, who am I to stop him?

HHL: The War Criminal is taking this way too far! Tommy Gunn is already beaten here!

The War Criminal smiles, circling the ring, to thundrous applause…

”MY OH MY!” The War Criminal theatrically monologues! ”My opponent insists on continuing to battle! And he is possessed with the power of MINDLESS WESTERN AGGRESSION! How on EARTH could I possibly defeat such a formidable enemy!”

NK gasps in faux realization, as Gunn’s unconscious feet dangle a few inches above the mat in his grip...

”I’ve got it! I’ll use my SECRET TECHNIQUE!”

In a flash, he pulls back his fist…

…His knuckles… flash blue?!?

PIP: …Oh my God.

HHL: No! Don’t do this! DON’T DO THIS!

NK flashes a grin… As his fist surges forward!

LIGHTNIIIIIIIIIIIIING PUNCH!

”WITNESS ME!”

HHL: *gasp* The WAR CRIMINAL JUST USED RAION KIDO’S LIGHTNING PUNCH ON TOMMY GUNN!

PIP: But it looks like NK’s lightning punch uses… actual lightning?!?

Electricity courses straight from the War Criminal’s fist, directly to Tommy Gunn’s heart! Like a taser straight to the nervous system!

The Lead Enforcer seizes in place, his eyes fluttering like he’s lost control of his facial muscles… As his body curls inward on the mat.

…NK places a boot on Gunn’s chest. And raises an arm triumphantly.

The official counts.

1!

2!

3!

WINNER: NORTH KOREAN WAR CRIMINAL


NK lifts an arm to the sky as the XWF Universe cheers.

The cadets and the orchestra march back down the ramp, blaring the North Korean National Anthem! One of the cadets carries the briefcase back up to the War Criminal who lifts it to the sky, while maintaining a foot on the chest of the head of XWF security, Tommy Gunn!

HHL: A disgusting victory tonight for the War Criminal!

PIP: Disgusting? Perhaps! Dominant? Definitely!

HHL: You have to imagine both Theo Pryce and Mark Flynn just watched that match very carefully.

PIP: And, without a doubt… Neither of them can be happy about how this played out.





Suddenly, the unmistakable intro of "Push It" by Rick Ross begins to blare through the speakers.

With the lyrics echoing, smoke begins to billow from the stage's floor.

Herschel Kiss emerges from the haze.

He stomps his way down the entrance ramp.

The camera captures fans on either side, some cheering, some booing, but all reacting to the mammoth man making his way to the ring.

Midway down the ramp, Herschel spots a sign in the crowd that reads, "KISS THIS!" He chuckles, pointing at it and then motioning a kiss to the fan.

As he reaches the ring he climbs up the steel steps.

Entering the ring, he takes a moment before raising his arms high.

As the song fades, and the lyrics "I'm pushing it, I'm pushing it, I push it..." echo away, Herschel finds his corner of the ring and leans in, ready to push his next challenge to the limit.




R.L Edgar makes his way to the ring.





"BIG PUDDIN" HERSCHEL KISS
- vs -
R.L. EDGAR
Warfare Rules - Standard Singles


Ding! Ding! Ding!

The bell rings and the match gets underway at a ravenous pace. Edgar charges straight out of his corner and splashes Big Puddin against the turnbuckle, then Edgar leads Big Puddin out of the corner with a running bulldog! The ring shakes from the massive weight being slammed to the mat!

PC: "RL Edgar is off to a hot start here tonight!"

HHL: "He's taking the fight right to the big man!"

RL Edgar follows up by mounting Big Pudding and landing a bevy of haymakers on him from the top. RL is gaining the cheers of the crowd as he relentlessly hammers away at Herschel Kiss on the mat, so much so that even the referee is feeling a bit sorry for the big man!

PC: "RL Edgar didn't release any promotional materials for this match, but he sure does seem to have a vendetta against Big Puddin!"

HHL: "RL looks right pissed off about something, that's for sure!"

RL Edgar hops off Big Puddin as he rips his own shirt in two while walking around the ring and playing the crowd. RL goes full Hogan, with the hand to his ear and all, as he gets the crowd competing with itself to make the most noise possible.

PC: "This is the loudest the Grand Canyon has been all night!"

HHL: "They might awaken some ancient spirits with how loud they are being!"

RL works the crowd into such a heightened frenzy, he doesn't even hear the big man climbing to his feet! Unbeknownst to RL Edgar, Hershey Kiss is now standing directly behind him with a wicked grin plastered to his big face!

PC: "OH no, RL! Look out behind you!"

But the place is so loud RL can't hear the pipsqueek either! RL is suddenly grabbed by the side of his head, then given a headbutt to the back of the skull! A sickening crack is heard before the back of RL's skull begins bleeding. Edgar drops down to his knee as he instinctively reaches back to touch the wet spot on his head. Thats when Big Pudding picks RL up by the waist, hurling him across the ring with a belly to back suplex!

RL flies into the corner of the ring, perfectly landing in a standing position against the turnbuckle. Herschel then charges from the opposite corner, delivering a full-speed avalanche splash. This move not only disorients RL Edgar, but forces him to fall prone against the mat! 

HHL: "The Urban Crash!"

PC: "If I know anything about puddingcups, Herschel will be looking to land his patented 'Kiss of Death' next!"

Herschel lifts his opponent into a powerbomb, slamming them onto the mat. Without wasting a moment, he hits the ropes, using the momentum to rebound in, he delivers a crushing running splash onto the downed opponent, going immediately for the pinfall attempt.

1!


2!!


3!!!

WINNER BY PINFALL - BIG PUDDIN HERSCHEL KISS









Melanie Crayzee Childs steps out onto the ramp, and in time with the music skips to the ring. She jumps up on the ring apron. Turns around and starts laughing. She then makes her way inside the ring, followed by her Manager Antony The Jerk




”LEVEL" begins to play through out the XWF arena as the fans begin to 'hoot' like owls while they cheer their hero. She makes her way out of the curtain and heads to the ring with a bubbly demeanor waving her hands and arms, flapping them like a bird. She enters into the ring and continues to flap as she bounces off the ropes pointing at some of her Owlies fan members, mostly young girls, boys and drunk adults. She rushes the ropes and heads to the middle turnbuckle and makes a flapping wings hand gesture smiling at the crowd as she waits for the match to begin..



MELANIE "CRAYZEE" CHILDS
- vs -
ALICE KNIGHT
Warfare Rules - Standard Singles


Ding! Ding! Ding!

The bell rings and both women leave their corners, slowly walking to the center of the ring. The sound of the crowd builds with each tep the wrestlers take. Within seconds the two women are staring each other up and down in the center of the ring, with Alice standing a full half foot taller, but sharing a similarly thin frame with Melanie.

PC: "I just want to say off the top, I'm a huge Alice Knight fan! I love mustard and owls!"

HHL: "Mustard and owls? What the hell is wrong with you, Pip! Keep your kinky fantasies to yourself!"

PC: "No, its...ugh, nevermind, you're too cultured to ever understand, Heather!"[/red]

As the two commentators bicker at their table, Melanie and Alice begin bickering in the middle of the ring! Eventually Alice has had enough of the talk, and she decides to shove Melanie back. This infuriates the Crayzee misfit, who decides to rake Alice's eyes in response! Alice shrieks in pain as she covers her face and turns away. The referee scolds the misft, but Melanie pays no mind as she quickly rolls Alice up for a schoolgirl pin! The referee reluctantly drops down to make the quick count!


1!




2!!


3-No! Kickout!

Alice kicks out just in time, using all her power to send Melanie flying across the ring. Both women scramble up to their feet well before the referee can!

[White]PC: "That dirty trick almost got the win!"


HHL: "PIP, what's wrong with you?! You can't call our female athletes 'dirty tricks'!"

PC: "I was talking about the school girl!"

HHL: "Both Melanie and Alice are grown women, Pip!"

PC: "Sometimes, Heather, I hate working with you."

HHL: "Why? Because I'm a WOMAN?"

PC: "Ugghhh..."

As the commentators go back and forth, so do the athletes in the ring! Melanie and Alice rush towards each other and tie up. At first Melani gets the advance, grabbing a hold of Alice's arm and twisting it out of place, but then Alice is able to escape the hold and wrap her arms around Melanie's waist! Then, Alice unloads on Melanie with a belly to back suplex, sending her flying across the ring again! Alice then quickly bounces to her feet. Melanie gets to her feet a second or two later, but then Alice takes her back down with a big dropkick, followed by the pinfall attempt!



1!




2!!

Kickout!!!


PC: "Alice Knight almost caught her with that technical display!"

Melanie pops her shoulder up and slides out from beneath Alice Knight. Alice charges Melanie once more, but this time Melanie is ready for her. Melanie trips Alice up with a leg sweep, taking both women back to the ground. Melanie then crawls atop Alice's back and begins scratching at her head with long fingernails. Some blood is drawn before Melanie switches to using her elbows to draw even more blood!

HHL: "Melanie has now cracked Alice Knight open, on the side of her head! This woman is brutal!"

PC: "No, she's CRAYZEE!"

Melanie continues throwing questionably legal blows at Alice Knight, causing the referee to scold Melanie. The scolding distracts Melanie for a few seconds, giving Alice all the time she needs to reverse their position on the ground! Alice flips over and squirms about until she is now on top of Melanie Childs. Melanie tries to struggle and resist, but the smaller woman was caught off-balance, and now she had to pay the price! Alice Knight locks in a rear naked chokehold, and now Melanie is struggling to breathe!

Melanie uses everything she has to crawl towards the ropes, inching closer to them as her face turns blue. Alice continues cranking the choke, squeezing as tight as she can...but eventually Melanie is able to reach a bottom rope! Melanie swings her arm out desperately, just on the verge of passing out, and she grabs hold of the rope with everything she has left, forcing the referee to break the hold! Alice reluctantly backs away per the referees instruction, giving Melanie a small amount of time to recuperate and rise to a standing position.

PC: "Alice Knight almost had this match won! There was no way Melanie was going to escape that submission hold!"

HHL: "Now we will see if Alice Knight can keep building on her momentum!"

Melanie rises to her feet, clearly short on breath and still blue in the face. The referee calls for the action to start back up, and Alice shoots across the ring like a bullet out of a gun. Melanie is taken back down to the ground with a swinging neckbreaker, eliciting a huge pop from the crowd! Melanie then stumbles back up to her feet, only to be kicked in the gut and then brought back down to the mat with a DDT! Alice covers Melanie for the pinfall attempt!

1!



2!!



Kickout!


[red]HHL: "That wild child just won't stay down! What will it take for Alice to put the misfit down for good?!"


Alice rises to a sitting position as Melanie lays flat on the ground next to her,  clearly exhausted. Alice too looks incredibly tired as she wipes her brow clear of sweat.

PC: "Usually something like a finisher does the trick! She should try one of those!"

Alice looks over to the commentary booth, offering a cute smile and a thumbs up.

PC: "Wait, was she just talking to me?"

HHL: "You're delusional, Pip!"

Alice slowly picks herself up to her feet as Melanie continues laying flat in the center of the ring. Slowly but surely the tired and bloodied Alice Knight makes her way over to a turnbuckle post, climbing all the way to the top rope. Alice plays to the gathered fans for a few seconds before winking at the commentary team
Then, she leaves her feet and FROGSPLASHES onto Melanie, hooking the leg for a pin the process!

1!


2!!


3!!!


WINNER BY PINFALL - ALICE KNIGHT




The arena is pitch black and the melancholy opening tunes to “Identity” begin. But as the song starts to pick up in intensity, down in the entryway, you see a Jericho-esque light up jacket glow brilliantly. Then, twin explosions emit from either side of the ramp and the lights turn on in a swirling red and blue pattern that throb in sync with the beats of the song. Corey comes down the ramp, the jacket now flashing intermittent heart and lightning bolt patterns. On the 'Tron you see images of Corey/Lux pulling off fantastic moves, intercut with blur effects on Corey's face that obscure his features in an eerie way.

Corey gets on the ring apron, and he looks out at the fans, but seems a little more dour than usual. When he gets in the ring, the music and effects cut and Corey has a mic already in hand.

Well, I’m here. And that makes one of us.

Corey paces the ring a bit, and then points towards the entryway.

Where the fuck is Thunder Knuckles?

He retracts his arm and considers the crowd again.

That there is the billion dollar question is it not? I’m here. Hell, I’ve BEEN here. Defended my Universal championship on the last episode of Warfare. Going to defend it AGAIN  on the next episode of Warfare right before Relentless. No one can say I’m not a fighting champion.

But where…is…good ol’ Tee Kay? I haven’t seen hide nor hair of him since Leap of Faith when I fed him his own ass for burning down my house. I’m thinking he’s caught a bad case of the bitchmades, don’t you?


The crowd pops in response.

Smart folks. You see it too! So Thunder Knuckles…

Just then, the Tron flares to life. It’s ask and ye shall receive time, Thunder Knuckles is on the main screen on a beach wearing a red Hawaiian shirt.

Let’s give Corey a round of applause, folks! The defending CHAMP! I’ve been relaxing sipping on mojitos while you’ve been fighting. Work smarter, not fucking harder, Corey. Jesus-

Just then, another voice sounds off across the arena. Well, that’s all well and good…

Theo Pryce appears at the top of the ramp!

….but where do we go from here?

Corey leans on the top rope, waiting for Theo to proceed. Thunder Knuckles looks like he’s waiting with a certain amount of anticipation as well.

This match has quite a bit of heat behind it. Certainly worthy of it’s main event status. But I’m inclined to agree with Corey, and not just because of what happened to his home. No, I’m inclined to believe that the build to this match at Relentless has been lacking in Thunder Knuckles.

TK looks like he’s about to protest but Theo cuts him off.

No, let me finish. Next week, we know Corey’s going to be around, as he’s defending his Universal Championship. But Thunder Knuckles, you’re going to be here as well.

The fans pop again. Corey starts to clap.

Because, on the final episode of Warfare before Relentless, we’re going to have a good old fashioned contract signing between you two. And Corey and Thunder Knuckles, you’ll get to face each other one last time before you clash at the pay per view!

The fans give another full throated pop. Corey brings the mic up to his mouth again.

Well I am MORE than okay with that. He stares intently at Thunder Knuckles. How about you, TK? You good with that?

TK lights a cigar with his golden zippo. The flame is still going and TK’s cocky smile on full display.

Oh, yeah, I’m definitely fucking good with that.

TK then blows out the flame and his feed ends. Corey is beside himself and tired of TK's games.

HHL: There we have it! TK, Corey Smith, contract signing, next week!

PC: Thanks, Heather, it’s not like we didn’t hear them just say that.







Warfare returns from commercial and we see the broadcast team at their table.


HHL: Is that who I think it is?

Pip: I have no idea who that is Heather. How about you clue me in?


The camera pans over to show Gabriel "Pope" Dawson, Jethro Dawson and their father and manager Michael Dawson seated in the front row enjoying some beers and some popcorn.


HHL: That's the Gangsters of Christ. A free agent tag team that has been making their rounds of late. They were at Night One of Denzel Porter's Grand Awakening and Thunder Pro's Friday Night Fury. These guys were the reigning tag team champions in IIW before it closed down.

Pip: Never heard of em.

HHL: Well you should Pip. They are one of the best tag teams in wrestling right now and I imagine they can be had for the right price.

Pip: But can they beat the Blue Tango and the Atomic Bat? I think know H.

HHL: I hope we get to find out Pip. Anyway it's time for our next match. Bobby Bourbon versus Ned Kaye.




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 Comanche blares throughout the arena, slowly walking out onto the entrance ramp is Bobby Bourbon. He looks out at the crowd in the arena, cold and stoic, surveying his surroundings. He stops and raises his fists at 45 degree angles, and continues his deliberate plod towards the ring. Bobby climbs the steps, then climbs the nearest ring post half way and raises his fists at 45 degree angles. The lights go back to normal and the music stops.




The arena flashes white as spotlights from around the venue converge at the entrance room as "You Know My Name" begins playing bombastically. As the lyrics start, Ned Kaye stands at the point where the spotlights merge to thunderous applause. He lifts his fist up in the air, awaiting the crowd to do the same before rushing down to the ring, serenaded by blue hues that light up the ramp following his steps. The lights above the stadium darken in their blue color as Ned gets closer to the ring, little bits of ember adorning the X-Tron and ramp, orange breaking up the blue. He leaps over the ropes into the ring before looking down, breathing the moment in, and pointing out at the crowd, ready to fight just with their energy alone. Jumping a bit from the adrenaline, he makes his way to his corner as he prepares for the bell.



BOBBY BOURBON
- vs -
NED KAYE
Warfare Rules - Standard Singles 


HHL: These two men know each other very well, Pip, I'll be interested to see what gear they crank it up to tonight!

PIP: We'll see![white]

Bobby and Ned both come out of the corner, and Bobby extends his hand in respect looking to shake hands with Ned. Ned slaps Bobby’s hand away, then points at Bobby, not wanting to fall for any tricks! Bobby shrugs.

HHL: That’s unusual, Pip, Bobby Bourbon rarely shows that kind of respect.

[White]PIP: I know, Heather, and so does Ned, he's not falling for Bobby’s ruse.


Both men go to tie up, Bobby sets in a top wristlock, and bridged Ned backwards to the mat! Ned kips up, and reverses the wristlock into a hammerlock. Bobby with a back elbow, and he spins out of the hammerlock, turning with a forearm to Ned. Ned ducks, and resets the hammerlock! Bobby uses his size and backs Ned into a corner, and the referee begins his count for Ned to break the hold. As he does, Bobby steps away and goes to the center of the ring. Ned steps out of the corner, and once again Bobby extends his hand in a display of honor.

HHL: Again, Bourbon with a sign of good sportsmanship!

PIP: Ned is having none of it!

Ned yells at Bobby and slaps him across the face. After, Bobby slowly turns his head back to Ned with a scowl. Bobby with a huge right to Ned. Another huge right to Ned, backing him into the ropes! Bobby whips Ned into the opposite ropes, bounding off the ropes himself to meet Ned in the center of the ring! Bobby with a clothesline! Ned counters with a crucifix pin!

1…




















2…

















Bobby kicks out, rolling to his feet and transitioning into a pin on Ned!


1…



















2…



















Ned rolls out of the pin and sets in a backslide onto Bobby!


1…

















2…

















Kickout with authority! Both men pivot to a knee, facing one another!

HHL: Bourbon is trying to keep pace with the more technically sound Ned Kaye here, Pip, it's definitely a change of tactics from the big man tonight!

PIP: Bobby is just doing it to get into Ned's head, Heather.

Bobby once again extends his hand to shake, and Ned slaps it away. Ned to his feet quickly as Bobby is still on a knee, and a flash Notorious Knee connects, sending Bobby to the mat!

Ned gets to his feet and heads to the corner and climbs, diving with a back elbow onto Bobby! Ned stands, and grabbing Bobby’s leg, rolls the big man over into a standing half crab submission! Bobby grimaces in pain from the hold! The referee checks in on Bobby!



















Bourbon looks like he’s in agony!





















Ned torques back on the leg!






















Bobby twist back to his back, sending Ned into the corner! Bobby is slow to get to his feet, and while on a knee, Ned comes in for another Notorious Knee!





No! Bourbon catches him, and stands!

BOBBYBOMB!

HHL: And good night, Ned.

PIP: That was a good shot, Kaye, but this is a formality.

Bobby lands on top of Ned.

1…









2…



























KICKOUT!

Bobby recoils in agony, palm against his head looking in absolute disbelief! The fans are going from stunned silence to absolutely wild!

HHL: HE KICKED OUT! NED KAYE HAS KICKED OUT OF THE BOBBYBOMB!

PIP: UNREAL HEATHER! AS LONG AS WE HAVE BEEN CALLING MATCHES, AND IN EVERY COMPANY BOURBON HAS WRESTLED, NOBODY HAS SURVIVED A BOBBYBOMB UNTIL NOW!

Bobby stands slowly, still favoring the leg Ned had in a torturous submission. He looks down in disbelief at the writhing but fighting body of Ned Kaye, the man who survived the bomb. Bobby stumbles to a corner, trying to figure out what he can do next. Bobby walks back out to the center of the ring, and Ned uses Bobby to pull himself to his feet. Once on his legs, Bobby steps back, shaking his head. Once again, Bobby extends his hand. Ned slaps it away, and flips Bobby the middle finger! Bobby exhales through flared nostrils, and boots Ned in the gut. Bobby hoists Ned up.

BOBBYBOMB.

Bourbon holds on, and lifts Ned again.

BOBBYBOMB.

Bourbon lifts a third time.

SITOUT BOBBYBOMB.

The referee counts.

1…























2…



















3!

WINNER: BOBBY BOURBON


Bobby, still in disbelief, stands up, and looks down at the sputtering body of Ned. The referee gives Bobby a warning, but Bobby pushes him away. Bobby brings Ned to his feet, and holds his chin up to make eye contact. Bobby nods, and raises Ned Kaye's hand triumphantly as a showing of honor.

HHL: I still can't believe Ned Kaye kicked out of a Bobbybomb! What heart from Ned tonight!

PIP: Heart wasn't enough, Heather.

Bobby leaves Ned standing tall in the ring, exiting while looking back and applauding him as he does.

Suddenly, a billow of smoke appears surrounding the ring.



House of 1000 Corpses begins to blare, and as the smoke clears, we see Dr. Louis D'Ville standing behind Ned Kaye. Ned, still weary, steps back, and puts his hands up. Doc laughs.

Hello, my friend! You have been causing quite a stir around here, and do not think for just a moment that I haven't been watching! Relentless, Ned, the Inferno, and all your self-righteousness in tow, perhaps I will…

LEAVE

HIM

ALONE.


Bourbon has a microphone! The crowd goes apeshit! Bobby climbs back into the ring.

Ned, strong work tonight, you did something nobody else has, or ever will as far as I'm concerned, do. Head onto the back.

Ned gives protest as Doc laughs. Theo Pryce and a swath of XWF security make their way down to ringside to make sure another brawl between Bobby and Doc happens.

Theo, back off. If you're here for anyone, get Ned out of here.

Theo looks flustered at Bobby’s demand.

Bobby, you know I've always been a Bourbon Man. Mr. Kaye is due for…

Stop.

Eight years.

Eight whole fucking years, I have been in the XWF, and you've been a Bourbon Man.

I call bullshit.

You want a fight in Relentless, we can see who will rule in hell.


Doc looks intensely back at Bobby as Theo enters the ring.

Look, the two of you need to calm down! No more of these mystery brawls!

There's no mystery about it, Theo. If Doc wants to draw irons with someone, I'm his Huckleberry.

I have nothing to prove against you in the ring, Bobby. I want…

I will bargain.

Doc laughs. Ned is leaned in a corner witnessing this.

You leave Ned alone.

I will put my 24/7 briefcase on the line at Relentless.


Deal.

Doc extends his hand, and Bobby shakes, and both men get in close, trying to outgrip the other.

HHL: RELENTLESS, BOBBY BOURBON VERSUS LOUIS D'VILLE!

PIP: Eight years in the making, Heather, and whoever wins walks away with the 24/7 Briefcase!







The lights dim as multiple spotlights rotate throughout the arena. As "Leaving Dionysus" begins to play, the spotlights all point to the stage, illuminating a velvet red curtain. At the moment the guitars begin to play, the curtain is drawn open, revealing the imposing figure of Dionysus, holding a Thyrsus in his right hand and a shield on his left arm. He clashes the staff against his shield to rouse the crowd to clap with him, then roars, raising the Thyrsus above his head.





The lights in the arena go dim as a latin trap banger is blared through the PA system. As the bass bumps through the arena three different spotlights begin rotating over the crowd: one green, one red, and one white. After a few seconds all three spotlights coalesce on the entrance ramp, where we see Latina Submission Machina kneeling on the ground, holding a Mexican flag across her back! Pyrotechnics pop off the entrance ramp just as the crowd hits it's biggest pop of the night.

Latina Submission Machina bounces to her feet, still holding the flag of her nation across her back. Her half-painted face is twisted into an angry expression, but really that's just for the camera, because this luchadora is as calculated and cerebral as they come! She walks down the entrance ramp with a confident swagger before climbing the steel steps and slipping between the ropes. As her name is announced, she charges onto one of the turnbuckles and holds her nation's flag up high.

Announcer: Weighing 140 pounds and standing at 5 foot seven inches tall, fighting out of Ciudad Juárez, MEEEXXXXIIIICCCCOOOOOO....she is a former Anarchy AND X-treme Champion....she is the LATINA SUBMISSION MACHINA!

LSM hops off the corner post before barking at a ringside attendant to come take care of her precious flag.





DIONYSUS ©
- vs -
LATINA SUBMISSION MACHINA
Warfare Rules - Dionysus To Name The Match Stip In His First Promo



As both Dionysus and LSM stare at each other, the ominous cage above them begins to lower. At ringside there is a barrier that goes up six inches above the ring mat. It isn't exactly flush with the ring, but, as the cage lowers down and slots into place, it’s flush with the cage. The cage itself is rigged to run wine down the fence part of the metal structure and pump up from the tank surrounding the ring that is filled to the brim with chardonnay wine.

PIP: "That cage looks scary,"

HEATHER: "It is very ominous looking, that's for sure,"

Both superstars stare at the monolithic structure surrounding them before Dionysus charges forward, his massive frame propelling him into a colossal clothesline that crashes against LSM's chest. The impact reverberates through the arena, a thunderous echo of the clash. LSM quickly regains her footing, using her agility to slip behind Dionysus and lock her arm around his neck in a tight headlock. She jumps up and down, trying to work around Dionysus’s superior height to keep the headlock cinched in. But the big man battles his way out of it, utilizing his immense strength to lift LSM high into the air, hoisting her onto his shoulders  and slams her with authority straight into the hard steel mesh of the cage with an electric chair drop. LSM bounces off it like a tennis ball and crumples to the mat. Dionysus follows up with a methodical fist drop, measuring LSM and ensuring the connection lands onto her forehead.

HEATHER: "Dionysus is starting to get control now,"

PIP: "It sure does look like it but things can turn at any moment,"

Dionysus keeps up the onslaught by pulling LSM up and throwing her hard into the mesh of the steel cage and he repeats this on all four sides of the ring until LSM collapses to her knees, her head spinning from the cage impact. Dionysus stomps hard into LSM’s back before delivering several hard kicks to the ribs. He grabs LSM and lifts her by the throat with both hands but LSM fights out of it with a hard knee to the solar plexus that catches Dionysus off guard. LSM takes a second to catch her breath delivering a series of punches and kicks to Dionysus’ head and body. She takes a step back before taking Dionysus to the mat with a judo trip that takes Dion down. Not wasting any time, LSM drills a series of hard elbows into the back of Dionysus’s head and neck before jumping and she climbs quickly up the cage wall before springing back with a frog splash, crashing right down on top of Dionysus.


PIP: "See what did I tell you, I called it,"

HEATHER: "Well you have called a lot of matches over the years, so you knew what was coming,"


As the champion clutches his ribs, LSM continues to attack him, sticking the boots to him as he aggressively yanks him up by the hair. Holding him by the back of the head, she shows an impressive display of strength by hoisting the bigger man onto her shoulders and delivers a Fireman’s Carry but instead of slamming him onto the mat, LSM hurls Dionysus straight into the unforgiving steel of the cage. Although in pain, Dionysus looks pissed off. He balls his hands into fists as he pulls himself off the mat and onto his knees. LSM measures him and goes for a spinning gut kick, but he’s wise to it and catches LSM’s outstretched leg, causing her to hop on her standing one just to maintain her balance. Dionysus climbs to his feet with an unreal show of strength, Dionysus hoists LSM into the air using just her outstretched leg and slams her over and over into the side of the cage causing the metal structure to shake on its foundations as the crowd chants “Holy shit!”

Heather: "Holy shit is right,"

Pip: "That was some sort of move,"



Suddenly, as LSM clutches her leg on the mat, a siren blares throughout the arena and the crowd cheer. The cage then starts to fill up with chardonnay wine, the rich yellow-colored liquid pumping from the tank and pouring into the ring, the mat staining. The liquid terrain shifts the dynamics of the match. LSM is caught off guard as the wine starts to fill up over the canvas, the wet sensation startling her and she climbs back to her feet. Both competitors grapple amidst the wine, their movements unpredictable as they struggle for dominance, sloshing through the ankle-deep mire.

Pip: "Wonder what it smells like,"

]Heather: "Why would you think that right now?  That's just sick,"

LSM seizes an opportunity, launching off the ropes to deliver a breathtaking springboard moonsault that lands squarely on Dionysus' chest, the impact resonating through the yellow tide. The wine adds an element of chaos, each move splashing the liquid around them. Dionysus sits up, shaking his head as the wine flicks off his hair and he even has time to lick his lips but has no time for further tastings as LSM grabs him into a guillotine choke, her legs wrapped around his body as they both grapple amidst the wine-soaked environment. LSM shrieks as she thrashes to maintain the grip of the submission on her much larger opponent but the wetness of the liquid creates a slippery friction between the bicep of her arm and Dion’s neck and his head pops free.

Heather: "Just like a popsicle coming free,"


As the wine recedes, the ring returns to its original state. LSM shifts gears, unleashing a barrage of kicks and strikes that showcase her kickboxing background. Dionysus absorbs the blows, his resilience evident as he counters with a powerful combination of jabs and hooks that push her back. LSM goes for a big spinning roundhouse kick but Dion dodges and hooks LSM’s arms behind her and drills her back with an audacious tiger suplex. He bridges for the pin and the referee counts:


Heather: "Here we go,"


One….





Two…but LSM has the wherewithal to kick out. Dionysus then hoists her up and drills her down with an Air Raid Siren. He goes for another cover and the referee counts
One….

Pip: "Almost but Dionysus gets another chance,"






Two…..







Thr-






But LSM kicks out again.

Pip: "Wow how did she kick out of that?"

Dionysus can be heard audibly roaring in frustration before grabbing LSM by the back of the head and begins to slam her face repeatedly into the canvas numerous times. He grabs LSM by her hair and grabs her around the throat for a chokeslam but LSM counters, blocking it and wrapping up Dion’s arm in a modified armbar as she hangs upside down, bending Dion’s arm back in an unnatural position. Dion grunts and groans in pain as he tries to swat her off like a fly but LSM is relentless, wrenching back with all her might. Dion tries to improvise as he sacrifices his own arm, slamming into the sides of the cage in an effort to force LSM to let go. He grunts again in pain but LSM’s grip on his arm begins to loosen and he manages to transition beautifully into “On Your Shield” (STO Backbreaker).

Heather: "Surely it won't be long now,"


LSM clutches her back in pain and Dionysus is rolling on the mat, shaking his arm, trying to get some feeling back into it. This gives LSM the chance to recuperate and get back to her feet though and she makes matters worse by grabbing at Dionysus’s face and lays into him with several strikes ranging from jabs and straight punches to a spinning back-fist. Dionysus stumbles back, disoriented and LSM takes advantage, dragging him by the back of the head and smashes him repeatedly into the steel cage until she nails him in the jaw with ¡Súper Patada! (a superkick with Latina flair). LSM looks down and sees Dionysus is barely moving and looks up at the cage and starts to climb, scaling the inside walls.

Pip: "Surely after all the beating she has taken, LSM can win this match and cause a huge upset?"

Heather: "Well she is halfway to grabbing the victory and the belt,"


As LSM is about halfway to the top, Dionysus is almost back to his feet. Just then, the second wine-filled interval arrives, signaled by another siren-like noise that emanates throughout the arena. Once again, the wine transforms the ring into a chaotic battleground. Dionysus rushes to the side of the cage and uses his superior height to reach up and her grabs LSM by the throat and drills her with a hard chokeslam but instead of slamming her onto the mat, he throws her like a ball straight into the cage, as flesh collides with steel and LSM falls into the wine that splashes with the impact of her hitting the canvas. Dion goes for a cover as LSM lays flat-out on the mat, saturated with wine. The ref counts

Heather: "Surely now, here we go, over red rover because of the wine

One….


Two…but as the wine begins to cover her face and go up her nose, it unintentionally snaps LSM out of her daze and she kicks out, spluttering as she tries to regain her composure, the alcohol from the wine burning the inside of her nose. Dion takes advantage and lifts LSM up as if going for a spine buster but rams her into each of the four walls of the cage before turning and slamming her hard down. However LSM unbelievably manages to counter just as Dion is driving her down. She latches onto his neck and transitions into a painful Japanese necktie submission, trapping Dion’s massive neck as the wine begins to recede once more. We can hear stifled grunts and groans of pain from Dion as he struggles inside the excruciating submission hold but again, LSM can’t quite get the traction she needs as the wine makes them both too slippery for her to get any proper purchase on her grip.

Pip: "It's too slippery in there,"

Heather: "Tell us something that we don't know,"


Dion’s face slowly turns back to its normal color but LSM is not one to give him any respite. She uses the ropes for momentum and nails him in the temple with a hard low-angle dropkick before executing a savvy sweeping spin kick whilst he’s on the ground, allowing the inside of her boot to ricochet hard off his temple again. Instead of going for the cover, LSM begins to scale the cage, trying to secure her footing on the steel mesh as best she can. However, she doesn’t seem to see Dionysus inexplicably beginning to climb the cage next to her. LSM peers down and sees Dionysus ascending beside her and starts to kick out at him, trying to stop him in his tracks. Dionysus is able to hang on though and seems to be regaining his bearings as he grabs at LSM’s weaker leg and slams it into the cage. LSM dangles precariously, barely holding on but manages to retain her grip, hooking her fingers inside the mesh. Dionysus is beginning to gain some ground and both competitors are almost near the top.

Heather: "This is seriously tense, who wants it more?"

They both hook their arms around the top of the cage and begin to lay into each other with hard punches, neither willing to give an inch. They both keep climbing and reach the top of the cage and the fans cheer loudly at the tenacity of both of them standing now over 20 feet above the ring. Then, the ominous siren wails away and soon enough a third wave of wine starts to fill up the ring, quicker this time and deeper, filling up to just below the bottom rope.

Pip: "Its a wonder no one is drunk from this match at all,"


At the top of the cage, both LSM and Dion try to get a secure footing but seem to throw caution to the wind, and they descend into another straight-up slugfest, their feet anchored in the gaps between the steel beams. LSM out of nowhere breaks up the punch-fest and launches herself towards Dionysus and catches him flush on the jaw with the ¡Súper Patada! however it doesn’t quite take Dionysus down and he teeters on his feet, almost falling backwards. Recognising that if Dionysus falls, he’ll fall to the outside of the ring and ironically win the match, LSM reflexively grabs on to Dionysus’s ring attire to keep him from falling. Dionysus grabs LSM by the throat and picks her up, planting her spine-first onto the steel cage beams with a chokeslam.

Pip: "Ouch,"

Heather: "If she's drunk she won't feel that,"


Another “Holy shit!” chant breaks out as LSM arches her back in agony whilst instinctively trying to keep herself from falling. Dionysus stoops down and suddenly begins to climb down the outside wall of the cage but LSM reaches over out of desperation and doesn’t let him climb down any further. Dion reaches up and pulls her back down with him, locking her into a front face lock and out of nowhere, takes both himself and LSM back down to the ring with a devastating powerplex and the fans go crazy with a “This is awesome!” chant, the impact sending a tsunami of wine splashing everywhere. Both LSM and Dionysus are lying prone on the mat, drenched in wine and sweat, neither having moved. Moments later Dion is the first to move, crawling over towards LSM and he places an arm over her chest. The referee counts:

Heather: "This time surely, this has been a very entertaining and long match, and I feel like a drinki after all of this,"

One….




Two…….thr-no! LSM somehow kicks out at the last second! She wipes the wine from her eyes, trying to shake off the cobwebs as she stumbles back to her feet, wobbling. Dion grabs her by the forearm and pulls her in, almost decapitating her with the “Grapevine” (Rainmaker) but doesn’t let go, dragging her out of the wine and yanks her hard in again, driving his elbow hard into LSM’s face with “Defied” (Ripcord Bullhammer). He collapses back onto LSM, into the wine and the referee counts

Pip: "That was nasty,"

Pip: "But it works,"









One…











Two….












Three!

Pip: "After all of that we have our winner,"


Winner and STILL XWF TELEVISION CHAMPION - DIONYSUS





HHL: Well, folks, here we are! It’s been another incredible night and we haven’t even gotten to the main event!

PIP: And folks, this one is a doozy!

The words "They only want you when you're 17, when you're 21 you're no fun...." appear in dark red letters on the 'tron before cutting into the thrashing death metal sounds of "Severed" by Kittie. The Tron comes alive with graphic shots of plastic surgery interspersed with shots of blood dripping on a bright white surface. Mercy appears at the top of the ramp, walking slowly and with a purpose towards the ring, where she slides under the bottom rope.

HHL: Mercy has made it clear that she plans to dissect! To eviscerate! To take Mark Flynn’s head!

PIP: And anyone who’s seen Mercy in the ring? Knows exactly what she’s capable of! Wreaking havoc and ATROCITY… And above all? Winning!

Mercy slides to her opposite corner… This is normally where the official would give the competitor some pre-match instruction… But it’s clear the official is terrified of Mercy with every fiber of his being, and is doing everything he can to avoid eye contact…

Mercy stares at the curtain… Knowing her prey will come throught it.





Bursting through the black curtain!

The X-Treme Title on his shoulder!

In his trademark bomber jacket and blue tights!

It’s Mark Flynn!



Being booed. Loudly and with the entire arena’s full fervor!



Flynn looks around, as people voice their displeasure toward Mark Flynn.

HHL: It appears that the XWF Universe is 100 percent in Team War Criminal between he and Flynn!

PIP: Just when it seemed like he was making headway with Theo Pryce’s stamp of approval!

Flynn is expressionless, looking out at the crowd… He turns his back toward the people…

At the top of the ramp, Flynn extends his arms, revealing the back of his bomber jacket… It reads ‘GOOD GUY!’

Naturally, this makes the crowd boo more!

Flynn spins back around and walks down the ramp.

HHL: Mark Flynn won a 24/7 briefcase by defending his X-Treme title just last month! A lot of people would assume that’d put a guy on easy street in the XWF!

PIP: But, ever since that happened, NK has done everything in his power to take what Flynn has for himself!

[red]HHL: Because since Flynn got where he was by betraying NK… NK thinks he’s entitled to all of it!


PIP: But, if NK plans to strip the X-Treme title from Flynn as part of his vengeance campaign… Mercy just might beat him to it!

Flynn drops off his X-Treme Title with the timekeeper, and rolling under the bottom rope.

As he springs to a vertical base from the corner, Mercy stares daggers into his eyes.

Flynn stares right back. Despite the crowd not liking either competitor, there is a buzz of excitement! The electricity in the arena is palpable!

HHL: Despite neither of these two being fan-favorites, there is a clear energy in the arena for this main event, Pip!

PIP: I’d attribute that to two things, Heather! One, these are two of the most formidable competitors to ever step into an XWF ring…

HHL: Fact!

PIP: Two - They really seemed to get under each other’s skin this week! You’ve got too vicious talents, immensely skilled in the art of inflicting pain!

HHL: Sparks are about to fly!

The official looks at one corner… Then looks at the other.

You have a sense that if he doesn’t ring the bell soon, these two are gonna go at each other regardless…

Wanting to spare himself trying to separate the two… He signals for the bell.

DING DING!






MARK FLYNN ©
- vs -
MERCY
Warfare Rules - Xtreme Rules


In a flash, Mercy and Flynn both spring out of their corners, grappling for control in the center…

Mercy latches onto Flynn’s right arm, driving her nails into Flynn’s wrist! SCRATCHING! Drawing first blood!

Flynn dips one shoulder toward the ground and arm drags Mercy across the ring! Mercy nimbly forward-rolls through the toss and winds up on her feet, driving right back to keep offensive pressure on Flynn!

HHL: Flynn is very skilled at grappling, but there might be no one better in all of wrestling at inflicting PAIN than mercy!

As Mercy charges forward, Flynn catches Mercy under the arms, and drives his foot behind Mercy’s ankle! STO! Flynn throws Mercy backfirst onto the mat!

Flynn scrambles, stacking Mercy’s shoulders onto the mat!

ON-

Mercy doesn’t even let Flynn get a one-count! Tossing him off with AUTHORITY!

Flynn rolls backwards to keep his footing… But, as he completes the roll, Mercy is already on top of him! RUNNING KNEE TO THE SKULL! Flynn gets driven backwards into the bottom turnbuckle!

HHL: Oh my! This is no-man’s-land! Cornered is exactly where Flynn doesn’t want to be against a relentless competitor like Mercy!

Indeed, before Flynn’s back can even hit the bottom turnbuckle, Mercy is STOMPING A MUDHOLE straight into Flynn’s face! Flynn tries to grip the ropes to pull himself back up, but each time, Mercy aims another DELIBERATE, TARGETTED stomp!

PIP: Wow! By the end of this, Flynn is gonna have more bootprint than face left!

…The official… Terrified of Mercy, but wanting to keep his job… Starts counting…

One!

Two!

TH-

Mercy spins on the official, baring her teeth! The official’s stop dies…

But that window gives Flynn just enough of a window to roll under the bottom rope, buying himself some breathing room.

HHL: Flynn, trying to take a moment to regroup on the outside… I think even the ‘Lore Keeper’ Flynn has been surprised by just how vicious Mercy is!

Indeed, not wanting to allow Flynn even a split-second of recovery-time, Mercy reaches through the ropes, grabbing Flynn around the throat!

Flynn’s arms snap above his head, wrapping around Mercy’s skull AND JERK DOWN!

Mercy’s throat just THRUST AGAINST THE MIDDLE ROPE! Stungun! Her back whips against the mat!

Flynn follows her in, as Mercy tries to scramble back to her feet, covering her throat, trying to regain her breath!

Flynn grabs Mercy’s arm… AND TRIES TO PUT ALL HIS WEIGHT ON HER BACK!

HHL: Oh my God! We just got started and Flynn is trying to finish this one early! FUJIWARA ARMBAR! CENTER OF THE RING!

Mercy drives her knee against the mat, preventing herself from being pressed flat against the mat!

Flynn twists her arm upward, applying as much torque as he can! Trying to overpower Mercy!



BUT MERCY TWISTS HER BODY STRAIGHT, ELASTIC LIKE A SNAKE, until she’s face-to-face with Flynn!

Before the X-Treme champ can even be surprised, Mercy’s hand reflexively reaches forward… AND SHE DRIVES HER NAILS ACROSS FLYNN’S EYES!

”AGHHHHHHH! FUCK!” Flynn falls on his back, covering his face… Streaks of red across his face!

HHL: An impressive counter by Mercy! Many people can’t escape a submission hold from Mark Flynn, Mercy has managed to reach into the jaws of defeat and retrieve full control!

Flynn rapidly blinks, trying to wipe the streaking blood from his face…

As Mercy circle-steps around Flynn! Stomping directly onto Flynn’s joints!

KNEES!

ELBOWS! WRISTS!

Circling her fallen prey, trying to maim him into a state of helplessness!

HHL: Mercy smells blood in the water! And she’s trying to soften up her food before she goes for the killing blow!

Flynn’s face contorts in agony as Mercy mercilessly strikes, wounding him! Hobbling him! Crippling Mark Flynn!

Finally, Flynn cradles one arm into his chest defensively… And crawls toward gripping the bottom rope.

…Again, the official starts a count, albeit with dread on his face.

One.

Tw-

MERCY SNEERS, REELING BACK HER FIST…

The official is so terrified he scrambles under the bottom rope!

…Flynn takes the momentary lapse in attention to scrambles himself up using the ropes into the corner, wiping the blood from his face!

Mercy sprints forward, looking to do as she’s done all match and keep the offense going! She dives forward…

BUT FLYNN LIFTS HIS KNEE, catching Mercy square in the face!

Mercy is driven backwards… but screeches like a banshee! Driving herself forward!

HHL: Holy HELL!

PIP: is there *anything* that can stop Mercy’s attack?

Mercy springs forward, diving to drive her nails straight into Flynn’s thr-

WHAM!

Flynn drives his face forward, catching Mercy with a hellacious headbutt! Mercy drops to the mat, her nose busted… Her face now covered in a combination of her and Flynn’s blood…

HHL: Oooooh, Mercy is famously protective of her features! That might piss her off!

PIP: I mean, she already seemed VERY pissed off…

Before Mercy can recover and resume her offensive blitz, Flynn springs out of the corner, hitting the ropes… He slides!

BASEBALL SLIDE! Mercy gets driven under the bottom rope, splattering like a crash test dummy outside the ring!

Mercy cradles her shoulder and face agonized… but Flynn knows better than to even take a breath to relax.

He slides under the bottom rope… Squeezes Mercy by the skull, forcing her to her feet…

Front-facelock…



SNAPSUPLEX OUTSIDE THE RING!

Mercy cradles her spine… Her fingers tense, her body seizes with pain!

Flynn lies for a moment, agonized by what it’s already been through… Before he rolls himself over to make a cover!

The official counts… (fromt inside the ring, trying to keep as much distance as possible from these two freaks…)

1!

2!

TH-NO! Mercy forces her shoulder off the mat!

HHL: WOW! Incredible toughness on behalf of Mercy!

…Flynn sits up, his face covered in blood… His body clearly in pain…

He rolls over… Slowly working his way up to his feet… Trying to scoop Mercy once more to her fe-

MERCY twists her neck and BITES FLYNN SQUARE ON THE FACE!

”AHHHHHHHHH!”

PIP: Oh my god! Flynn’s cheek just became Mercy’s mid-match snack!

HHL: And she’s not letting go!

Indeed, Mercy’s jaws clench onto Flynn’s facemeat as she drives her nails straight into Flynn’s stomach! Flynn doubles over… Streaks of red emerging from his stomach.

WHAM! Flynn instinctually punches Mercy square in the throat! Mercy stutter-steps backwards into the metal pole from that throat thrust… Blood running down her face…

As Flynn bleeds heavily from his bitten cheek. Cradling his now-bleeding stomach area.

…For a moment, Mercy and Flynn exhaustedy lean against opposite metal poles outside the ring.

”...DiE.”

”...FUCK…*wheeze*...OFF.”

Flynn drives himself forward… off the pole… Trying to resume the attack…

… BUT MERCY CATCHES FLYNN, GRIPPING HIM BY THE THROAT!

CHOKESLAM TO THE OUTSIDE! Flynn’s back THUDS LOUDLY onto the padded concrete!

The crowd ooohs and aahs at the spectacular violence on display!

Flynn’s limbs spread, exhaustedly… Bleeding from the face and torso.

HHL: Oh my God, Flynn looks like’s been through a murder!

PIP: And anyone who’s been watching up this point knows that’s not too far off!

Mercy rolls into a cover…

The official remains in the ring, counting…

1!

2!

THRE-FLYNN SOMEHOW FORCES A SHOULDER UP!

Mercy seethes downward at Flynn… She fishes an arm under the apron of the ring…

HHL: Mercy reaching under the ring for a weapon! She’s done rending Flynn’s flesh with her bare hands and is moving onto tool-assisted torture!

PIP: I mean, what could the ring crew have put down there that could inflict damage? Some chairs? Maybe a ladder?

Mercy fishes…

And retrieves…

A baseball bat…

Wrapped in barbed wire.



PIP: What the hell was that doing there?

Flynn exhaustedly scrambles back to his feet… As Mercy spins ‘round, wielding that barbed wire bat.

”...Oh shit.”

Flynn’s sense of panic, drives him to roll under the bottom rope, back into the ring! But Mercy is in hot pursuit!

Flynn dashes across the ring, bouncing off the ropes, Mercy… stops her chase… She winds up.

Flynn bounces off the ropes, hoping to catch Mercy with a surprise clothesli-

MERCY CATCHES FLYNN SQUARE IN THE RIBS WITH THE BAT!

Flynn doubles over… Bleeding from the chest and now mouth! The wire catches, clinging to his  ribcage! He falls onto one knee…

HHL: Oh God… Mercy is looking for a finishing blow here!

PIP: Finishing blow?!? I think she’s looking for a killshot!

Mercy rests the bat against Flynn’s bleeding skull… His lungs heave as his arms hang at his sides exhausted.

”DiE.”

Mercy reels back…

Flynn spits.

”...FUCK OFFFFFFFFFF!”

Mercy swings!



FLYNN DUCKS!

He drives his shoulder into Mercy’s stomach!

AND HEAVES HER UP AND OVER HIS SHOULDER!

NORTHERN LIGHTS SUPLEX! Mercy’s body collides with the mat! The barbed wire bat clatters outside the ring!

…Flynn tries to bridge his legs… but Mercy’s many stomps to his ankles have weakened his legs… Instead, he just tries to drive his body downward as best as he can, pressing his shoulder into Mercy’s chest!

The official counts!

1!

2!

THR-NOOOOOOO! WAIT! Mercy latches onto Flynn’s arms in the pseudo-bridging position…

And flips him over onto his face!

HHL: What a fucking WAR THIS IS! Flynn nearly stole this one from Mercy and Mercy stole it right back… Locking in the…

MORT NOIRE (cattle mutilation!!!) !!!

Mercy, with the grace of a ballerina and the brutality of an ancient warlord, flips over Flynn’s back, driving his shoulder blades together!

Flynn howls in agony!

Mercy hisses at the X-Treme Champion, dedicating her every muscle to wreaking an unforgettable pain into his skin. Scrawling onto his fucking memory using ink made of trauma, MERCY DID THIS TO YOU…

Flynn’s fingers spasm!

His hand shakes!

The official is asking him if he wants to give up…

Flynn…

FLYNN!



……

FLYNN SQUEEZES HIS FIST!

He shoves his elbow against the mat… AND USING SHEER FORCE, ROLLS THE TWO OVER!

Mercy’s shoulders press against the mat!

1!

2!

THR-!

NO! MERCY forces a shoulder off the ground… AND CLINGS ONTO THE GRIP! MERCY REFUSES TO LOSE OR RELEASE THE HOLD!

…Flynn’s face is bathed in blood and pain…

He…

FINDS THE WILL TO ROLL OVER ONCE MORE!

And his legs connect with the ropes!

HHL: Oh my God… I don’t know if I can take much more of this….

PIP: You think it’s rough out here? Imagine being one of the two actually wrestling in this match!!!

The official starts a count…

1!

2!

MERCY SPINS ON THE OFFICIAL! The official dives away terrified…

…Mercy grabs Flynn by the leg, dragging him away from the ropes! She grabs his arms again, looking to inflict pain anew…

She goes to flip! MORTE N-

Flynn slips out of Mercy’s grip! And sits backwards ontop of Mercy mid-flip for the cattle mutilation!

Mercy’s shoulders are pressed backwards against the mat!

The official counts!

1!

2!

THR-NO! Mercy KICKS with all her might off the ground!

Flynn springs off Mercy, bounding toward the ropes, off the ropes!

Mercy springs up, still laser-focused on another submission, tries to wrap her mitts around Flynn’s arms…

But Flynn slides between her legs, getting her back!

Flynn delivers a kick to the back of the leg! Guillotine position!

HHL: Oh my God… Pip! This match just reached its…

LOGICAL CONCLUSION! (Reverse Backbreaker DDT into Cross Rhodes)...

Mercy’s skull bounces off the mat like a sack full of bricks.

…Flynn exhaustedly crabwalks…

He rests his back against Mercy’s chest…

The official counts…

1!

2!

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEE-MERCY REFUSES TO LOSE!

Mercy’s kickout springs Flynn up off his back… his face is wrought with desperation…

He slowly sinks to one side, staring into the abyss, wondering how the hell he got to this point…

HHL: After a certain point, the question on Flynn’s mind is… Can ANYTHING finish off Mercy?!?

Flynn stares down at the back of Mercy’s head in disbelief, shock and awe…

He grabs Mercy by the skull once more… Peeling her off the mat like roadkill…

HHL: It’s incredible that these two are standing AT ALL, let alone can keep competing!

Flynn wraps Mercy in a frontfacelock… Looking for The End! (Black Crush)...

Flynn goes to li-

MERCY LATCHES ONTO FLYNN’S ARM! She kicks out his legs… He falls agonized to his knees… Mercy… looking one more time for the Morte Noir! She tries to front-flip over Flynn!

But Flynn gets back to his feet, mid-flip, slipping out of Mercy’s grip!

Mercy uses the forward momentum from the forward roll to hit the ropes! She rebounds off looking for a heads-

HEADBUTT! Flynn SMASHES THROUGH HER FACE with his SKULL!

…Mercy looks like she might be out on her feet…

Flynn quickly wraps her in a front facelock…



THE END! Black Crush!

The two bounce off the mat… Flynn’s shoulders narrowly covering Mercy’s.

The official counts!

1!

2!

THREE!

WINNER AND STILL X-TREME CHAMPION: MARK FLYNN


OH MY GOD! The crowd springs to its feet! In absolute astoundment of the horror show they were just witness to!

Both competitors lay down center of the ring… a pool of blood building between them as the crowd applauds this showing!

HHL: What a bloodbath!!! What a visual nightmare from start to finish!

PIP: WHAT A MAIN EVENT!



Mercy rolls to the outside, lying on the floor, too weak to stand after what she and Flynn just spent the main event doing to each other.

Honestly, the champ might look even worse than the challenger… He’s bleeding from the face… The chest… The eyes… Everywhere.

HHL: Oh my God. What a show! What a Warfare! Possibly facing his stiffest challenge to date, Mark Flynn managed to squeak out the victory against Mercy!

PIP: If you ran that match 100 times, it might come out 50/50! That’s how close these competitors are in terms of talent. But tonight, Mark Flynn secures the victory!

HHL: Well, that’s gonna do it for us here a-





HHL: ….No.

From the top of the ramp, bursting through the black curtain.

Out steps the North Korean War Criminal.

In his hands? The 24/7 briefcase.

He smiles, staring at the bleeding carcass in the center of the ring, lying there like a corpse in the desert.

Helpless.



Easy pickings.

NK cracks his knuckles. And starts heading down the ramp…

HHL: Oh c’mon! Don’t do this! Mark Flynn’s in no shape to deal with this!

PIP: …I mean… X-Treme Title means 24/7… Solid strategy by the War Criminal to wait in the wings as Flynn faced the toughest challenge of his reign…

War Criminal makes it all the way down the ramp…

As Flynn sits up… exhaustedly… He crawls up to one knee.

…NK stops in his tracks.

Flynn beckons to the timekeeper… Who tosses a microphone into the ring.

…Flynn, with what little he has left in the tank, bends down and scoops it off the mat, and up to his bleeding face.

”...*wheeze*... NK.”

Through blood and sweat, Flynn looks dead in the eye of his old partner… Who sneers angrily at Flynn’s ability to stand after that hellacious match.

…Flynn looks… somber.

”I… *heave*...  I’m sorry.”

…Flynn falls toward the ropes… His legs jelly after the battle he just went through.

”*exhale*... I fucked up. If you want an apology… from me? …I’ll give it to you… I was… *wheeze*... wrong.”



NK reaches up to his eye.



Makes a fist.



And mockingly rings his eye. Boo hoo hoo.

Aw, Flynn feels sorry for what he did.

The War Criminal smiles insidiously… As Flynn exhales.

”Okay… if you don’t want… an apology. You must be here…” Flynn exhales. “For a fight.”



Flynn lifts his fists….

”C’mon…” Flynn beckons. ”None of this shadow warfare… bullshit. You want to beat me down? I’m right FUCKING HERE, NK! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU WAITING FOR?!?!” Flynn howls, finding somewhere deep in himself a second… (or perhaps at this point, third) wind.



NK stands at the edge of the ramp. He walks over to the edge… Hanging his military jacket.

HHL: Oh my God! One year in the making! We’re finally going to see NK and Flynn explode in the ring!

Flynn stomps his feet! ”YOU WANNA TAKE EVERYTHING FROM ME! COME IN HERE AND DO IT! RIGHT HERE AND NOW!

NK!



Still takes his time… Loosening the collar on his dress shirt!

This crowd is in pandemonium! Waiting for things to explode here!

NK neatly hangs his military jacket… And steps toward the ring.

”THIS IS WHAT YOU WANT, ISN’T IT?!?” Flynn howls. ”YOU WANT IT? COME IN HERE AND TAKE IT!”

NK lets his hands rest on the ring apron… Like he’s really, REALLY thinking about sliding under the rope and throwing hands.

Flynn continues to beckon him, shouting challenges, laser focused on the man whose spent the last three weeks dedicated to taking everything from Flynn!



He’s, in fact, so focused…

He doesn’t notice a figure pop over the barricade from the front row…

NK peeks his head in under the ropes…

As the figure sneaks into the ring behind Flynn!

HHL: Who is that?!?

PIP: It looks like…

Flynn reels back his fist, ready to scrap!



BUT HE DOESN’T NOTICE THE FIGURE BEHIND HIM ROLL HIM UP!

Out of muscle memory alone, the official counts!

1!

2!

FLYNN KICKS OUT!



……

BUT NOT BEFORE THREE!

WINNER AND NEW X-TREME CHAMPION:



B.O.B. D!


HHL: WHAT?!?

YES! B.O.B. D, fresh off pinning the X-Treme champion, rolls outside the ring scooping the belt off the timekeeper’s table! He lifts it into the air like he just won the Super Bowl, The NBA Finals and the 2024 Presidential Election all at the same time!

He runs into the crowd, disappearing into the stands!



Flynn looks at the official in utter disbelief.

As NK backpedals up the ramp, a delighted, sinister smile on his face.

He slips his jacket back on…

…And retrieves from his pocket…

A microphone of his own.

”Mark Flynn.”

NK points toward the ring.

”It is true. I wish to take EVERYTHING from you.”



”But… if you thought you could get it all over with in one night… Heheheheheh…” The War Criminal snickers insidiously, shaking his head.

”No such luck. I plan to take everything from you… SLOOOOOOOOWLY.”

”I will wring suffering from your body, mind and soul, as if I were squeezing water from a sponge… Sloooooowly... Patiently... All-encompassingly..."

"WRINGING YOU FOR EVERY OUNCE OF JOY LEFT IN YOUR PERSONAGE… UNTIL NOTHING REMAINS BUT A DRY, HOLLOW SHELL TO CRUSH UNDER MY BOOT.”




NK spits on the ramp… As Flynn looks on in horror. The War Criminal lifts up his stolen briefcase.

”I’ve taken from you your golden ticket… I’ve taken from you your X-Treme Title… And when I’m done… You’ll be BEGGING ME TO TAKE YOUR LIFE.”



”And I will… Oh, Mark Flynn, how I will…”



”But not a moment before I’ve stripped you of EVERYTHING you value.”

NK drops the mic.

And the scene fades to black.




Thank you to those who wrote segments:

Corey Smith
T.K
Peter Principle
Mark Flynn
NKWC

Thank you to those who wrote matches:

Mark Flynn
Sean Parker
Latina Submission Machina
Charlie Nickles
Bobby Bourbon
Peter Principle


And thank you those who did promos for their matches.


Catch us again next fortnight at the next Weekend Warfare.
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B.O.B. D (08-27-2023)
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#2
08-27-2023, 03:09 AM

We see B.O.B. D, celebrating backstage with the Xtreme Championship.

"Winning a Title belt in the Main Event of Warfare!" D pulls out a bottle of champagne. "How many times did Big D do that?! Zip, nadda! I've already done more since associating with B.O.B. than I EVER did fighting them. The name 'D' is finally something more than an immature dick joke, the name 'D' will, once again, brandish an XWF Championship! And it's gonna be my longest, my greatest, and for DAMN SURE my most entertaining reign ever!!!!"

B.O.B. D pulls a couple of glasses from out of nowhere and holds one up for the camera.

"Here's to you, N.K.W.C.; gotta respect a man with initials for a name. For being a war criminal, you're alright!"

D dinks the glass against the camera lens, before popping the bottle and shooting it's contents everywhere.

"Now, where're my boys at?"
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