The lights in the arena suddenly plunge into darkness, ring entirely shrouded. The crowd begin to hum with anticipation of what may come next - finally, a voice cuts through the inky black. The Ring Announcer -
“Ladies and gentlemen, at this time, please welcome… The Mauler of Markham Square… The Chelsea Crippler… The Best In The Business… The XWF Universal Champion… Sebastian… Everett… Bryyyyyyyyyyyyyce!”
The crowd burst into life, the wave of focusing upon the rampway ready for the Universal Champion’s entrance. Instead, however, a single spotlight drops to the ring and illuminates S.E.B. as he sits on a chair, the XWF Universal Championship stood facing the crowd on the ground in front of him. In his hand, he holds a microphone.
"Thank you for that welcome - genuinely. It means a lot.”
He paused for a second to soak in the sound from the hidden crowd.
"First things first, I wish to apologise for my absence on the last episode of Warfare, however I was taking a well deserved rest after fighting, not only a psychopath with a painted face, but a large blue grizzly bear. A short vacation was in order.”
The crowd laughed, as Seb leaned back in his seat tapping the microphone against his free hand. His face wasn’t jovial, though. Less so a man looking to celebrate, more to contemplate. He lifted the microphone to his lips again.
"Two and a half months ago, I witnessed a crowd much like this one, shower Ned Kaye with praise for finally winning the XWF Universal Championship - praise that was much deserved because without a shadow of a doubt, Ned Kaye deserved his time with the Championship I now hold. And whilst I appreciate the small smattering of you that wish to shower me with the same praise, I hold with the majority who offer no such sentiment.”
Seb nods, a half smile across his face.
"Unlike Ned Kaye, I have not been in XWF for all of my career. I’ve not ran the hard lines that he’s ran. I haven’t paid my dues and earned a long awaited opportunity to get a shot at that title. No - I walked in here, decided what I wanted and I took it. Because that… Is what I do.”
He allows a small chuckle.
"I said before March Madness that a year ago, the idea of this…”
Seb waves his hand over the title and out towards the crowd still hidden in darkness.
"This was not on the cards. So I suppose, given that I now represent this great company as the very best there is today, I owe you all an explanation as to how I arrived here. Some would assume my motivation would be financial. Some would assume that the gold I hold would have served as incentive, but believe it or not… It does run deeper than that.”
He paused and chewed on his lip for a second.
"I met my best friend, Thaddeus Duke during one of the most difficult moments in my entire career. At an event by the name of Countdown, which was presented by a company known as Fight NYC. And on that night I watched as a man who had defeated me just two weeks earlier in my home company defended Tag Team gold… In one James… Raven.”
A cheer raised for the XWF legend.
"Thaddeus helped to raise my spirits that night and just a few days later, another legendary XWF figure helped raise them even further. The day that I signed a contract with Chronic Chris Page Enterprises.”
The reaction for this name, is a little more mixed.
"Without ever stepping foot into an XWF ring, my career has led me to fight Centurion, Atara Raven, Shawn Warstein, Angelica Vaughn, Kenzi Grey and Alias… So whilst XWF and Sebastian Everett-Bryce may have been unlikely bedfellows, when I sat back and thought about it I had to admit… XWF had played a huge part in the career I’ve had so far, and without these names that have graced this ring… I may never have had much of a career at all.”
Seb tapped the microphone on his hand again.
"So, when Theo Pryce called me and asked me if I’d be interested in joining his revolution, I took some time. I called Atara Raven who called me a thieving bitch, I called James Raven who told me it would be a perfect fit for me, I called Shawn Warstein who said ‘Who the fuck are you?’, I called Centurion who yelled at me down the phone because he couldn’t hear a damn word I was saying and I called Chris Page… Who… Apparently has me on redirect to voicemail these days.”
The crowd laughed again.
"Then I called my best friend - Thaddeus Duke. And to his credit, he didn’t tell me what to do. Instead, he asked me three questions. Do you want to take on the best opponents in the world? Do you want to be remembered as a great in this business? And do you want to win one of the most coveted Championships in the industry? And he said that if the answer to any of those questions was yes, then it was a no-brainer.”
A loud “Lionheart” chant began to ring out through the arena, which Seb did nothing to discourage.
“And so, I returned to Theo Pryce with one single question. Are you sure that Sebastian Everett-Bryce is a man you want to be a part of your revolution. Because then and there, I made it clear, I wasn’t coming to XWF to be just another face to feed to the legends that remained. That if I came to XWF, I was going to change the landscape. No half-measures, no holding back. Twenty four hours later, there was an XWF contract on my desk. A week later, and I was the first name announced for the First Blood Battle Royal at Free For All and two months later I was…”
Seb reached down and for the first time, lifted the Championship in front of him off the ground and up into the air.
"The XWF… Universal… Champion. And not just THE XWF Universal Champion, but YOUR XWF Universal Champion.”
As the word “your” crossed Seb’s lips, the lights in the arena raised to reveal the cheering crowd. He climbed to his feet and one side at a time, he turned and raised the Universal Championship to each and every set of fans in the arena.
"Ladies and gentlemen of the XWF Universe… I say these words sincerely, and without hesitation… Welcome… To OUR Empire.”
Seb raises the title one more time, as Sweatpants (Battletapes Remix) plays him out.
As Megadeth shrieks through the arena, "Dangerous" Dave Mustang and Johnny "Twisted" Steele roar down the entrance ramp on their twin Harleys. They circle the ring once and then park their bikes on either side of the ramp and strut to the ring, giving each other a massive high ten once they are on the apron together. Mustang gets in the ring first and waits for the match to start.
A scream echoes as it travels through every speaker in the Gainbridge arena as the lighting begins to flicker, giving the commotion happening in the entrance way a slow motion feel.
JOURNEY WITH ME INTO THE MIND OF A MANIAC
DOOMED TO BE A KILLER SINCE I CAME OUT THE NUTSACK
I’M IN A MURDEROUS MIND STATE WITH A HEART FULL OF TERROR
I SEE THE DEVIL IN THE MIRROR.
A group of men emerge, each wheeling a different object toward the aisle and down to the ring.
BUCK BUCK, LIGHTS OUT
CAUSE WHEN I GRAB THE SAWED OFF
BITCHES GET HAULED OFF (HAHA)
On the right side, a man sits strapped to a chair by his wrists and ankles. Writhing in an effort to escape, he bites down on the metal bit inserted into his mouth, all the while his eyes held open by some sort of metal device.
BARREL ONE - TOUCHES YOUR MOTHER FUCKING FLESH
BARREL TWO - TEARS YOUR FUCKING HEART OUT YOUR CHEST
The other men push a furniture truck style device with a person standing in the middle, their arms wrapped around their chest and their feet bound by chains and straps.
YOU SEE WE’RE QUICK TO MAKE THE HAMMER GO CLICK
ON OUR TEC-9 SO IF YOU TRY TO WRECK MINE
FOOL IT’S YOUR BEDTIME
The mouth guard mask strapped to their face stops the woman from biting, but does not stop her from spewing threats with every inch she is wheeled further.
FEEL THE BLAST FROM THE PHRQY BOMBA
INFARED AIMED AT YOUR HEAD LIKE YOUR NAME WAS SARAH CONNOR
DECAPITATION I AINT HESITATING TO PUT YA IN A FUNERAL HOME
WITH A BULLET IN YOUR DOME
The lights finally cease and we can see the man in the chair is Vincent Black, and the woman in the straight jacket is of course Vhodka Black.
WE’RE HOT LIKE LAVA
YOU GOT A PROMLEM?
I GOT A PROBLEM SOLVER
AND HER NAME’S FUCKING VHOD-KA.
The men responsible for transporting them unlock their constraints, and run away, as Vhodka rips free from the straight jacket, and Vincent stands up, his shackles dropping from his wrists and ankles.
IT’S LIKE A DEADLY GAME OF FREEZE TAG
WE TOUCH YA WITH THE .44 MAG AND NOW YA FROZEN INSIDE A BODY BAG
Vhodka and Vincent climb onto the apron, shedding the remainders of their confines and dropping them to the floor. Stepping into the ring, and they begin to pace like hungry lions for a moment, before stopping and staring out at the crowd, as red sparks that resembles dripping blood falls from above the ring.
NOBODY ILLER, THAN THE GRAVEYARD FILLERS, CAP PEELERS
CAUSE THEY’RE
NATURAL BORN KILLERS
"THE DISINTIGRATORS"
"DANGEROUS" DAVE MUSTANG and JOHNNY "TWISTED" STEELE
- vs -
"THE NATURAL BORN KILLERS"
VINCENT AND VHODKA BLACK
Standard Tag Team Match
BG: Would you just look at these specimens of excellence, and dominance? The fresh new breath of life that the XWF tag division has been dreaming of!
JC: Agreed, Brody! Vhodka and Vincent Black appear to be the perfect duo to inject some life and added competition into the XWF tag ranks. These two are fierce, talented competitors.
BG: What are you babbling about, JC?
JC: Excuse me?
BG: CLEARLY I was talking about The Disintegrators!
JC: ….
The bell rings with “Dangerous” Dave Mustang starting off against Vincent Black.
JC: You can’t be serious Brody.
BG: Just look at Mustang and Steele, JC! These two are ready to revolutionize the tag team division…
Dave and Johnny WOOOOOOOOOOO at one another, and exchange wolfpack finger kisses over the ropes. Dave turns back toward Vincent and claps his hands, laughing, motioning for Black to bring it on with his hands.
JC: The Disintegrators are hardly fresh, or new.
BG: When was the last we saw these GOLIATHS of tag team wrestling in action, JC?
JC: ….ummmm. I don’t really recall, and I believe that speaks to their overall-
BG: THAT’S ENOUGH! The Disintegrators have squared off against some of the greatest legends this industry has known in Tag Team competition. The Can-Jap Connection, TNGB, Jim Caedus and Robert Main… THE LEFT HAND!
JC: Yes, and they’ve lost to all of those teams, Brody!
Vincent looks back to Vhodka, unimpressed with Dave’s threatening motions. He just shrugs, and charges in.
Vincent goes for a clothesline, but Mustang ducks and charges for the ropes!
BG: SEE! LOOK AT THAT ATHLETICISM!
BUT A RUNNING SPEAR ON THE REBOUND FLATTENS DAVE!
Black mounts Dave and lands some punches before standing up, hitting the ropes and crashing back down on big Dave with a leaping body splash.
Mustang hollers out in pain as Vincent lifts the big man, but Johnny has seen enough! He clubs through the ropes, charging his first with a big WOOOOOOOOOO
A CORKSCREW STUNNER!
Vhodak intercepts the attack from Johnny with a springboard move oh her own!
The crowd is going wild over this new stag team sensation.
Vincent moves big Dave over to the corner, and as Vhodka steps through the ropes back to the apron, she takes the tag from her husband. He smashes Mustang in the head with repeated elbow strikes as if he were setting up for his finish, but instead he lets Dave fall from the corner.
JC: ON THE ROCKS!
The corkscrew shooting star press is a thing of beauty!
Vhodka lands with precision and force on Dave, and hooks the leg.
1!
2!!
3!!!
- Winners - "The Natural Born Killers" Vhodka and Vincent Black
Suddenly, after the match…
Bobby Bourbon and Thunder Knuckles, Them No Good Bastards, hop the barrier and rush the ring! The Disintegrators, sensing what is about to go down, make their way up the ramp as fast as they humanly can. TK is wielding a baseball bat, and he cracks Vhodka in the ribs, doubling her over! Vincent is hit squarely with a steel chair from Bobby! TK brings the bat down across the spine of Vhodka, sending her to the mat! Bobby hits Vincent with the chair! Vincent is busted wide open as Bobby walks over to Vhodka! TK walks over to Vincent who is sprawled on the mat and cracks him in the ribs with the bat! Bobby places the chair over Vhodka’s head! TK hoists Vincent to his feet!
JC: WHAT IS GOING ON HERE! SOMEONE GET SECURITY!
BG: THE BASTARDS ARE GOING AFTER THE KILLERS!
Bobby and TK both lift Vincent Black in tandem, and plant him with a spinebuster onto the chair atop Vhodka Black’s head.
BG: OH MY GOD!
Following the beat down, Bobby pulls out a pair of microphones while TK throws a few more boots for good measure. Bobby hands one to TK.
BB: Y’know, the crooked officiating in the XWF sure is a thing. I don’t mean the asshole who outed himself while I was defending the Xtreme title a few weeks ago, nah, I mean whatever gumption goes into the referees during these Tag Team Championship matches! From being the illegal guy in the ring, to missing tags, to counting a fucking count-out, I think it’s pretty evident the fix is in and those boys in Crucible just aren’t losing their tag team championships! Now, we could petition the office, we could make our case and appeal, but, well, that wouldn’t be the Bastard way, now would it, TK! If you want to make it clear you have a pair of golden boys you think need to be the face of a division, then Them No Good Bastards are going to annihilate the entire fucking division from beneath them. We’re not just the lowest rung of the ladder, no, we’re wiping the whole fuckeroo out, four fucking ears at a time. Who’s going to care about the XWF Tag Team champions when every other team just gets wiped out?
Bobby pauses.
BB: Welp, looks like the joke’s over folks. TK, tell them the truth for a minute, I gotta go be a workplace hazard.
Bobby walks over to the downed body of Vincent Black and props them up, seated in the corner, and runs in with a knee to their jaw.
BG: Them No Good Bastards aren’t stopping, this is sick!
JC: Somebody needs to stop these guys! This is a NEW XWF for crying out loud!
TK: A technicality?! There is no doubt in my goddamn mind that what happened on the sixth is some kind of P. Diddy mastery to keep the Panda eyed Champs in possession of gold.
TK immediately rushes to the body of Vhodka and drops, laying a series of vicious rights to the skull.
BB: Hey, Theo, I think you have a problem on your hands, the new kids are getting bullied! Careful TK, she’s going to block you on X after this!
Bobby grins, lowering the microphone as his body shakes with laughter. The fans in the crowd continue to boo at the top of their lungs.
BB: Oh, sorry, was I supposed to come out here and do a goofy song and dance for you? TK, these people were expecting Mr. Bojangles and the Rubber Band Man or some shit.
Bobby walks and kneels beside the writhing body of Vhodka Black. He grabs them by the scalp, twisting his fingers to trap a fistful of hair, and holds them up.
BB: Camera! Yo, camera, over here man! I won’t bite, though the pencil dicks on commentary might wanna watch their ass.
JC: What did we do?
BG: Be quiet, he’ll come over here.
BB: Oh yeah, say hello to your new XWF on commentary, because Pip and Heather called too many legendary calls and they had to retire them. Also…
Bobby points to the head he’s currently supporting.
BB: This is what I think of your new XWF. These kids don’t get a free pass, nah, that’s bullshit. The way of this land, as it’s always been, is you get beaten into the XWF. Now, I don’t know where these two shitstains have a match next, if it’s here, there, or anywhere, but when they want to walk into another locker room, the story they have will be pure confirmation.
Bobby crowns Vhodka with the microphone, causing a loud echo throughout the arena.
BB: The XWF was as horrible as everybody said it was.
Bobby dings Vhodka again with the microphone, their helpless body convulsing in shock from the blow. TK has Vincent Black prone on the mat, pulling his head up by the chin to watch his wife.
BB: It was an absolute lawless hellscape, all the nightmares you hear are true.
…Someone lied to us before we got there.
Bobby chuckles.
BB: Does it sound like I’m joking, Vhodka?
Bobby drops the microphone down again.
BB: We can bring that drama for days but we’re not cleaning up after it.
Bobby slams the microphone again into the head of Vhodka, and again, and again, and again, until it breaks. Frustrated, Bobby rolls out of the ring and over to the announce booth. He points and hollers at them.
JC: He’s demanding my microphone.
BG: Just give it to him!
Bobby snatches the headset mic.
BB: Well, shit, I’m already doing a better job on commentary than Thad Duke did, I shut JC, and I don’t even care what his full name is, up! Folks, welcome to Weekend Warfare, where the hottest stars from around all of wrestling took the bait, sold a couple of pay-per-views, then found out what happens when the bottom drops and they hit all new lows! Unfortunately, the Universal Champ is not in the arena tonight, he had better things to do than appear in front of you people! That said, I guess that means we don’t think y’all suck just as much as he does. We’d have smelled the Xtreme Champion somewhere in the back, so he’s showing you fans how much you matter tonight right along with him! However, we don’t need them, we have an exciting Television Championship match tonight, Jason Cashe, a real XWF guy, who is getting skewered because Thad Duke’s kid replaced Razor, somehow and thumped on a guy Cashe had dead to rights anyway, but hey, It’s a Duke, there’s nepotism, I guess his kid is more important than the TV title now, so I guess it’s nice to see someone else is rejecting this whole notion of a new XWF too. Just stay off commentary, you sound like it’s early CTE. Folks, I am joined here tonight by Thunder Knuckles!
The fans continue to boo profusely as TK commandeers the other announcer’s headset. A team of personnel have started making their way to the ring to check on the Natural Born Killers.
TK: What do they think they’re doing?
Seeing help come to the aid of the wounded, TK becomes livid.
TK: You know what? I had some shit to say but fuck this!
TK throws the headset on the announcers table, grabs another microphone, and taps it.
TK: Is this thing fucking on?!
Bobby grabs a steel chair and rushes at security personnel, backing them away, pointing up the ramp. They back away, and Bobby spins, bringing the chair down on the head of Vincent with a sickening crack. Bobby chuckles as he raises the chair again, and the XWF staff back down and up the ramp. TK has reentered the ring.
TK: I wanna thank everyone who fucking came out tonight.
As TK finishes his sentence he predicates it by laying another boot to the skull of Vhodka Black.
TK: It’s a real treat for all of you to see a real tag team in action.
Rearing back, TK swings the baseball bat overhead, aiming for Vincent Black's ribs as he continues his assault.
TK: While the Tag Team Champions do absolutely nothing with what they were gifted. I’m absolutely fucking disgusted with the direction this company is headed. It’s all Madness! I’m sick of playing by their rules, rules are for puzzle piece community members. Right now it looks like XWF has a problem, a Bastard problem, and the beatings will continue. Oh, and trust me, they’re only going to get worse. This isn’t our fault, this is yours XWF. You wanted ruthless, don’t get mad now that you got EX- FUCKING-ACTLY what you wanted.
BB: Wow! TK, you have laid down the utmost just now! Are there any other facts you need to tell the people?
TK: Yeah, now someone can get the fuck down here and clean up the mess we left in the goddamn ring. That is if they expect to keep having matches tonight.
Bobby grabs the top rope as he leans backward, with a careful tumble over the top, he leaves the ring. TK snot rockets on both Vin and Vhodka after he spikes the microphone. TK drops to his side and rolls out of the ring where he’s met by Bourbon at the entrance ramp. As they’re booed walking up the entry ramp the medical staff rushes past but not all of them. Both Bobby and TK in perfect unison shove one of the EMTs so hard he ends up in the crowd. Both announcers recover their headsets, and JC listens in to a shouting voice in production.
JC: We should go to a commercial.
BG: Yeah… That’s a good idea.
“HEAR YE! HEAR YE!”
A spotlight shines on a woman on stage, clad in a Princess Leia-like golden bikini, and an Eyes Wide Shut-esque Venetian mask.
The metallic march of armoured knights filing out onto the stage around the woman begins to ricochet around the arena, serving as the percussive backdrop to the blare of trumpets as a heraldic orchestra joins them.
Then…
The first, frenetic strums of Faith No More's "Gentle Art of Making Enemies" rips through the arena as strobes of gold and white cast across the stage and crowd.
Two giant polar bears slink out onto the stage, pulling a tremendous chariot decked out in gold with a lavish throne upon it. Sitting on the throne, waving ever-so-royally to his loyal ‘subjects’ is the King of the XWF.
His bandaged herald-of-the-week welcomes him.
Herald: HEAR YE! HEAR YE! Please rise for the Kingly King, King Kieran of House King!
King Kieran rises from his throne and thrusts his arms into the air expecting a more raucous reception than be receives. He looks a little frazzled by the lack of support from his populace, but he quickly puts that to the side as the herald braves the polar bears and approaches the throne, handing a scroll up to His Majesty. Kieran gives the herald a pervy wink and beams out to the crowd.
KING KIERAN: Behold! Resteth thy visage on mine grandiose self! Bathe in the majestic glory that is thine king’s aura! And rejoice! For I am here! Even in this… lesser… part of my kingdom.
But I do not come empty-handed! I am a giving king! Not only doth I give you mine charming smile, mine washboard abs, and mine fine ass to gaze upon, I bring gifts of entertainment! Thou shalt recall mere days ago upon the Land of X’s bi-weekly gladiatorial contests of Anarchy, the king provided for his subjects a duel between power and mass; between aggression and girth; between wrath and gluttony! The Revolution was televised! And it was Johnathan of the vast and storied House Black whom prevailed! Indeed, with his victory Sir Johnathan had curried favour with his king! And tonight… two more of the king's subjects shall be bequeathed the opportunity to do the same.
But tonight we are stepping up the challenge! Tonight the invitation has been cast to a would-be king himself! A man whom had an opportunity to take the crown, but fell several steps short of doing so. And then we have the unknown commodity: an enigma in both name and whether his reputation should be taken seriously here in these hallowed Lands of X. I guess we shall find out!
The rules remain the same! Fight. And do not stop fighting until your king is satisfied!
If you choose not to…?
In unison, the knights of King rap the bottoms of their spears against the stage.
KING KIERAN: You get the spears. Bring forth the competitors!
The polar bears drag Kieran's throne to the side of the stage and the rest of his ensemble - including the metal coated knights - follow, just in time for…
The ear-shattering guitar rift of "Black out the Sun" blares through the speakers as the crowd erupts onto their feet. Half scream in adoration while the other choruses into boos. Spotlights center onto the top of the stage as fire erupts from either side of the curtain. As the flames settle, Prince Adeyemi walks out, eyes shifting from the floor to the ring.
KING KIERAN: Introducing first, a man who knows what's what. Anyone else notice the timing of when he changed his name from King to Prince just happened to coincide when YA BOY… NAY!... YA KING!!!! showed up again on Warfare? That should tell you everything you need to know about him. But I guess I'll also say that he's from Harlem, New York, and weighs 202lbs, and his safe word is “I like to stick my dick in bagels” which is a weird choice because Ned Kaye told me he says that phrase all the time outside of their BDSM context too... hotties and notties, allow me to introduce NOT Isaiah King! No sir, just like I am no longer Kieran King, he is no longer Isaiah! I am King Kieran and he is one half of the XWF Tag Team Champions… PRINCE ADEYEMI!!!
”Heavy is the head that wears the crown
I wanna watch your fortress crumble down
And when the witching hour sounds
I will be the one to count you down
Now that my backs against the wall
I have to fight to stop the fall
Don't need your approval, I will rise above”
Adeyemi drops into a squat, leaning to the left and the right, stretching his legs out.
"I will not be denied, your kingdom come!"
The Prince leaps into the air as the crowd echoes "Your kingdom come!". He walks down to the ring, sliding under the bottom rope and rushing to the opposite side. Leaping onto the first and second rope, he throws a fist into the air as his fans cheer for him. Dropping off the ropes, he leans against them and glowers up at Kieran. Neither have a chance to expand on the conflict as attention is drawn to the stage.
“Luna est dominae,
Volkodlak malorum,
Artes et perditae,
Lycan incarnatus,
Luna est dominae,
Volkodlak malorum,
Artes et perditae,
Lycan incarnatus…”
A dense fog rolls out along the entrance ramp, the haunting whispered chant growing in volume along with the pulsing tempo of the music. A hulking appears from the gloom, slowly and methodically stalking towards the ring. His leather doomsday cloak is open over his massive chest, each step bringing him further into the light until “The Monster Machine” is revealed in full.
The dark and Gothic chanting continues, music swelling in volume as each pulse in the tempo and each measured step of the monster are in sync.
ENIGMA ascends the ring steps and subtly wipes his feet on the apron, turning towards the crowd as he removes the hood from his head, revealing his soot-streaked face and colorless eyes as well as the snake writhing around his neck. Throwing his head back, he sprays a bloody mist into the air before letting out a snarl. When his head lowers, blood drips from his chin and down his heaving chest.
KING KIERAN: And his opponent… a man whose real name is not a mystery at all but nobody is going to be intimidated by a member of Slytherin called Sev, so he went and created a whole other persona. He's not fluent in parseltongue but he may or may not fuck the snake. I don't know… why is that thing here, will somebody get it out of there? It seems like it's a health and safety risk. Maybe put it in a bag under the ring or something. Nerds and nerdettes, from The Boiler Room - I'm not exactly sure which one - weighing in at 275lbs, he is ENIGMA!!!
With both competitors in the ring, King Kieran gives a wave of his hand and his army of knights march down to the ring and encircle it. One if them takes ENIGMA’s snake and puts it in a bag, as instructed.
PRINCE ADEYEMI
- vs -
ENIGMA
Standard Singles
As the bell rings both competitors are hesitant to engage. They each glance at the small troop of armed knights surrounding the ring, and Prince Adeyemi then glances up to the stage where King Kieran sits in judgement. The king gives the prince a little wave and both Adeyemi and ENIGMA turn their respective attention back to one another.
JC: Neither of these men will be happy to take orders from an arrogant fool like Kieran King.
BG: That's King Kieran to you. And while they might not be happy about it, what both ENIGMA and Prince Adeyemi have in common is the passion for the fight.
They begin a slow circle around each other, conscious of their surroundings as well as the threat that the other poses. In the middle of the ring, they collide in a lock-up. Jockeying for position for a moment, the larger man - ENIGMA - predictably gets the upper hand and backs Adeyemi up into the corner. With the decision of the match down to the whims of the King of the XWF, there is no referee present to enforce the break when Adeyemi's back hits the corner. ENIGMA keeps Adeyemi pushed back as he controls the separation himself, and just before breaking he drops a clubbing overhand blow onto Adeyemi's chest.
JC: ENIGMA asserting some early dominance.
Adeyemi clutches at his chest and glares up at ENIGMA as the big man backs away. Lingering in the corner for just a moment too long, the tip of one of the knight's spears taps Adeyemi on the back and he jumps away from the corner, careful not to encourage any incidental impaling. It's enough to fire a bit more energy into the prince, however, as he picks the pace up in his movements, circling around the big Russian.
They lock up again, but Adeyemi doesn't make the same mistake twice. He quickly shoots behind ENIGMA into a wasit lock, and then slips down into a double leg that manages to wrestle ENIGMA to the mat. ENIGMA rolls himself into a defensible position, so Adeyemi backs up a bit and the big man slaps the canvas before getting to his feet.
This is not the former Isaiah King's first rodeo however! He sees an opportunity while ENIGMA is mid-rise and he takes it, firing forward with a dropkick to the head that takes his foe off balance. ENIGMA tries to rise again, but once more Adeyemi is there with a dropkick to keep him down. The cycle repeats a third time, but it's one time too many for Adeyemi as ENIGMA explodes upwards grabbing the Heir Apparent before he can even leave his feet. But leave his feet he does as ENIGMA tosses him over his head with an exploder suplex that gets a rise out of King Kieran.
BG: Whoa! I've seen a lot of suplexes in my life, but that one was something special.
JC: Looks like the ‘king’ approved of it as well.
BG: Great minds, Jacuinde, great minds.
Landing hard, Adeyemi finds himself in a bad spot. ENIGMA stalks after him and grabs him around the throat before tossing him halfway across the ring. No slowpoke, the Monster Machine presses the fight and pounces on Adeyemi again, dragging him to his feet only to send him back to the mat with a belly to belly suplex. Again he jumps onto Adeyemi, this time hoisting him and over in a German suplex.
BG: Just suplex after suplex!
JC: Prince Adeyemi has got to find a way to deal with ENIGMA's power.
ENIGMA roars to the world, and King Kieran gives a small round of applause. ENIGMA pays it no mind, however, and as Adeyemi struggles to his feet again, the big man lines him up. He charges forward for a running spear.
JC: DO YOU SEE?
BG: See what?
JC: No, that's the name of the move!
Adeyemi uses the corner to gain some leverage and he throws himself over the top of ENIGMA, rolling to his feet as ENIGMA's juggernaut-like momentum carries him shoulder-first into the corner post.
JC: He missed!
With an opportunity now there, Adeyemi lines ENIGMA up. ENIGMA staggers backwards into a slingblade. He hits the mat but adrenaline brings him back to his feet. Adeyemi is waiting for him, not willing to make the same mistake of going to the well too many times with the same move. Instead of a slingblade, it's a discus elbow that catches ENIGMA in the jaw. With ENIGMA doubled over, Adeyemi let's loose with a series of punches and strikes that each rain in on the head and face area. ENIGMA tries to cover up, and uses his massive frame to push Adeyemi away. But Adeyemi bounds right back with a punch down lower into ENIGMA's gut that takes the wind out of him. He drops to the mat and links the gut punch to an uppercut that knocks ENIGMA for six.
JC: Blade Sharpener!
BG: The name of the move, right?
JC: You're catching on, Goodman!
ENIGMA hasn't gone down from it though! He staggers back. Adeyemi closes in. He ducks a wild lariat from ENIGMA then rebounds off the ropes - dodging a wayward spear held by one of the knights in the process - and comes back in at ENIGMA who catches him and effortlessly hoists him up over his shoulders for his gorilla press Damnation. Adeyemi strikes at ENIGMA's head and neck and breaks free. He drops down behind ENIGMA and kicks out his knee.
BG: Prince Adeyemi is out there chopping down redwoods!
With ENIGMA kneeling and vulnerable, Adeyemi fires off another of those dropkick to the big guy's head. It connects HARD and ENIGMA falls forward. He tries to rise again but Adeyemi is already there with a running bulldog. This time ENIGMA stays down a little longer. Adeyemi climbs the turnbuckle and the crowd rises to their feet. King Kieran leans forward, practically licking his lips. Prince Adeyemi’s attitude is not too dissimilar, waiting for ENIGMA like a hunter stalking his prey. When the powerhouse gets to his feet Adeyemi is already mid-flight. He connects with the Crown Shatterer and blood spurts from ENIGMA's mouth as he falls to the mat.
BG: He damn near took ENIGMA's head off with that spinning elbow!
JC: He sure did. ENIGMA is spitting blood and it's not looking good.
BG: I’d say he might need to check his teeth after this, but I'm not sure he came into the night with a full set.
With ENIGMA down, Prince Adeyemi looks to King Kieran, who eggs on the violence. Adyemei passes between the ropes and from the apron, looks back at the King of the XWF once more. He then springboards up to the top rope and leaps off with an elbow drop to ENIGMA's head.
BG: Dethroning!
JC: You knew the name?!
BG: Ha! I knew them all along!
Without a moment's hesitation, the former Universal Champion slips back out to the apron once more and repeats that devastating springboard elbow drop. Two more times after that he drops the Dethroning right into ENIGMA's head.
JC: Blow after blow to the head of ENIGMA.
BG: Instead of checking his teeth, he might need to count brain cells! It shouldn't be hard - I’m pretty sure Prince Adeyemi is leaving him in the single digits here.
JC: Adeyem surei is making an emphatic statement here tonight.
Looking back at King Kieran, Prince Adeyemi receives his instructions:
KING KIERAN: FINISH HIM.
ENIGMA can barely move, but Adeyemi drags him up, locks his head into a front Facebook and then, wrapping his legs, drives back with the G.O.D. He keeps hold of the guillotine, wrenching as much as he can until ENIGMA goes.from ‘barely moving’ to not at all.
King Kieran stands from his throne.
He raises a thumb in the air.
BG: The King is satisfied!!!
DING DING DING!
Winner - Prince Adeyemi
The cameras cut to backstage where we see Dionysus, dressed in his finest suit and holding a file folder, walking up to Theo Pryce’s office door. Dionysus raises a hand to knock on the door, but before he does so, Theo walks in.
THEO: Hey, I was just getting back. What do you need?
DIO: I wanted to finalize a few things before I make some announcements about The Revelry tonight. Is it okay if we go inside and discuss?
Theo looked at the camera, then back at Dionysus, then opened the door.
THEO: Lead the way.
The two men entered Theo’s office, with the door closing in front of the camera man.
JC: Folks, we’ve had a killer show so far! And your penultimate match promises to be… unorthodox!
BG: Absolutely, JC. This one’s the classic conflict of strength versus technique. Raw power versus technical mastery!
The lights go out.
A Voice BOOMS through the darkness.
“WRESTLING.”
“HAS.”
“ONE ROYAL FAMILY.”
Fireworks burst all around the X-Tron!
Razor Blade comes out wearing an American Nightmare outfit. Blade lifts his arms in the air and fist pumps as the crowd cheers!
JC: Razor Blade is one of the most fiery, passionate performers on the Anarchy roster!
BG: Hell, make that all of the XWF, JC! Razor Blade is a raging inferno! He hasn’t won every match in his short XWF run, JC. But, no one. NO ONE. Has matched his sheer intensity in that ring.
Blade scans the crowd and spots a kid wearing an American Nightmare. Blade unclasps his American nightmare belt off his waist in hands it to the XWF fan. The kid’s face lights up as he holds it over his head!
Blade climbs up the steps, hops on the turnbuckle and lifts both arms in the air!
MORE FIREWORKS!
Finally, Blade enters the ring, tossing his American nightmare jacket off his shoulders, before doing a little pre-match shadow-boxing.
JC: Razor Blade has declared multiple times… He has his sights set on the top! On the Anarchy Revolution champion! Even on the Universal title itself!
BG: But, to start on that journey… He’s gotta get through… Mark Fl-
…
BG: …That’s not Mark Flynn’s music.
As the cymbals clash and the guitar dribbles out the bassline, Mark Flynn storms through the curtain, wearing his tights… And a windsor knot tie around his neck.
Beside his waist, he’s carrying the 24/7 briefcase… Which… he’s got a few documents sticking out of.
JC: Well, Mark Flynn clearly ready to clock in to work tonight!
Flynn rolls down the ramp, stopping just before the steel steps.
BG: Flynn had a narrow loss to 2024 Rookie of the year Dionysus! And he did not seem to take it well!
JC: No doubt, Brody! Flynn was still bleeding from the skull while he screeched in disbelief at the official. Has he worked out the kinks in his game enough to score a win over another very promising rookie tonight?
Flynn sets down his briefcase.
Straightens his tie.
Picks his briefcase back up.
And hops up the steps, stepping through the ropes, and entering the ring!
The official, Muscles Marinara, gets in Flynn’s face as he approaches his corner, about no funny business tonight.
JC: Flynn has always had a contentious relationship with the XWF referees!
BG: Clearly, Muscles trying to make it clear before the bell that he won’t tolerate funny business.
Flynn looks at Muscles, as Marinara points at the XWF logo on his shirt menacingly. Flynn raises his hands acquiescently…
Before opening up his briefcase. And slipping a document out of it.
JC: …Not gonna lie. This might be the first time anyone has actually used a 24/7 briefcase to hold business documents!
BG: Exciting times!
Flynn shows the official the document… It says at the top, ‘Conduct Agreement’...
JC: Brody, what the hell is going on here?
BG: It looks like Flynn is trying to meet the official’s concerns about no funny business by… signing a contract?
Flynn reaches into his tights and pulls out…
A ballpoint pen!
He quickly signs the contract… Before extending it to Marinara.
…Behind this rapid negotiation process, Razor Blade irritatedly taps his foot, like ‘C’MON, LET’S GO!’.
JC: Blade is already not the coolest customer. I don’t think he likes Flynn’s tendency to turn his matches into a three-ring circus of chaos.
Marinara tries to speed-read the contract… But Blade keeps barking and chirping behind him, so Marinara befuddedly and irritatedly signs the contract. Flynn happily takes back the pen from Marinara.
JC: Okay, there we go! Now, the match can st-
Flynn reaches back into his briefcase and pulls out… a second contract!
JC: …Oh, what the hell!
This time, he walks across the ring and delivers the contract to Blade. This one reads ‘Mutual Combat Agreement’!
BG: I’ve never seen this before! Looks like Flynn is trying to get in writing VERY CLEAR RULES for this match!
…Blade stews angrily as Flynn points to each clause on the paper, explaining what each term me-
SWIP! Blade rips the paper out of Flynn’s hands!
BG: Razor clearly tired ot Flynn’s delay tactics.
Blade holds the contract up to his own face.
He starts to re-
FLYNN LEAPS INTO THE AIR!
DROPKICK STRAIGHT TO BLADE’S FACE!
Blade doesn’t see it coming… as he feels two feet drive the contract into his skull!
BG: Ah! I think Flynn might’ve realized that Blade wouldn’t sign his contract… And agreed that no rules were necessary!
The official calls for the bell!
DING DING
MARK FLYNN
- vs -
RAZOR BLADE Standard Singles
Blade flops onto his back from Flynn’s dropkick!
Flynn kicks his briefcase under the bottom rope… Then, immediately hops onto his surprised opponent, hooking the leg!
ON-!
Before even a one count can take place, Blade HEAVES Flynn straight into the air and onto his feet!
Blade’s face is BEET RED as he furiously stomps to a vertical base, ready to clobber Flynn!
…
Unfortunately, Flynn immediately slips under the bottom rope.
The crowd boos furiously!
Flynn holds up his hands, like he’s not at fault for the fury Blade is feeling. Blade howls down at his cowardly opponent, hanging over the ropes, beckoning Flynn in!
…Flynn strokes his chin, like he’s reeeeeeeally considering it.
JC: What do you make of Flynn’s strategy in the early going, Brody?
BG: Classic Flynn mindgames, Pip! He knows his opponent tonight is a hot-tempered guy! Flynn’s clearly hoping to irritate Razor into not thinking and making critical errors!
JC: That strategy almost worked against Dionysus last Warfare… But came up short! Has Flynn updated the plan this week?
The official holds up his hands, to start counting-out Flynn… As Razor continues to rain down abuse from inside the ring!
1!
2!
Flynn’s index finger weaves through the air, like he’s honestly weighing the pros and cons of getting back in the ring…
3!
4!
Razor starts raining down obscenities and curses to Flynn for not having the cajones to fight him man-to-m…
Flynn suddenly springs forward! He grabs Razor by the ankles and pulls! Razor hits his back against the mat!
Razor is FURIOUS! The official tries to keep counting Flynn out… But Blade slides under the bottom rope to attack Flynn!
Flynn breaks into a sprint as Blade races to catch him! Flynn turns the corner around the ring, with Blade in hot pursuit!
Flynn grabs the pole from the outside and slips back into the ring under the bottom rope! Blade sprints back up the steps to enter the ring!
But, Flynn grabs the ropes in the corner!
Blade charges! …But the official steps up to block him!
JC: Marinara trying to keep order here! Flynn is in the ropes, which means Marinara has the authority to break up the action until Flynn releases the ropes!
Marinara barks backward at Flynn to release the ropes, starting a five-c…
WHAM! Blade heaves Marinara into the air… AND HURLS HIM ONTO HIS BACK!
Marinara grabs his spine agonized! Flynn’s eyes go wide!
JC: Wow! Blade clearly not happy with Marinara’s efforts to assert control! And it looks like Razor is ready to take things into his own hands.
BG: And one of those ‘things’ Razor might take into his own hands is Flynn’s throat!
Flynn tries to slip out from the corner back to the outside…
But before he can make it out of the ring, Blade starts stomping a mudhole into Flynn’s chest!
WHAM! WHAM! WHAM!
Flynn’s skull and back rebounds HARD against the corner of the mat as Blade, holding the ropes, stomping Flynn over and over again!
Marinara stands back up, marching up to Blade, starting a five-count for Blade to stop attacking Flynn in the ro-
Blade turns around and SHOVES Marinara back onto his spine!
JC: Blade wants to be careful! Muscles Marinara is possibly the most hot-tempered referee in the XWF! He might throw a DQ… or a fist!
BG: I was about to say Marinara should probably be careful around Blade! Blade clearly isn’t looking to follow rules tonight, he’s looking to hit anyone who gets in his way!
Blade, still in a rage, grabs Flynn by the ankles…. Flynn hooks his grubby little mitts onto the bottom ropes and clings for dear life!
Blade YANKS Flynn’s legs into the air!
Flynn’s hands release the ropes…
And his back SLAMS center of the ring! Flynn grabs his back, agonized!
Blade stomps his feet, demanding Flynn get up so he can finish the match…
…Flynn gently rubs his back… He eases himself up to his feet…
Razor goes in for the kill!
BUT FLYNN RAISES HIS ARMS DEFENSIVELY into a ‘T’!
JC: Is Flynn calling for a timeout?
Out of surprise, Blade stops.
Flynn reaches into his tights.
…He holds up a sheet of paper…
Across the top, it reads ‘DRAW AGREEMENT’...
JC: Flynn is offering a draw to Razor Blade!
BG: That’s just gonna piss Razor off!
Razor goes to rip the paper up in Flynn’s hands…
But Marinara charges up again, demanding Razor respect him! Pointing to his XWF insignia on his shir-
BLADE SHOVES MARINARA TO THE CORNER! Marinara’s face hits the middle turnbuckle!
Blade turns back to Fl-
FLYNN USES THE DRAW AGREEMENT, SLICING IT ACROSS RAZOR’S EYES!
JC: Wow! Paper cut eye rake from Mark Flynn!
Razor Blade covers his eyes with both hands, blinded!
Flynn shakes off cobwebs!
JC: Flynn has an opening!
Flynn grabs Blade’s arm! Blade tries to wrench himself blindly out of Flynn’s grip…
But Flynn holds firm!
JC: Blade can’t see at all… Blood in his eyes! But still, he calls upon PURE STRENGTH to hang in this match!
Blade rolls backwards… LOOKING TO ARM DRAG Flynn!
…
Flynn floats through the air!
BUT LANDS ON HIS FEET!
And drags Razor from a prone position to lying on his face…
As he twists Blade’s arm behind his back! FUJIWARA ARMBAR!
JC: Wow! Incredible agility on display by Mark Flynn! He can turn any grapple into that armbar!
BG: And once he’s locked it in, almost no one can get out!
Marinara drags himself out of the corner, exhaustedly from getting heaved around the ring by Razor…
When he sees Flynn holding Blade in a Fujiwara Armbar!
Blade tries to crawl to the ropes, to break Flynn’s grip…
…Inch-by-inch…
…Bit-by-bit…
A foot away…
…
Six inches away…
…
Blade reaches ou-
FLYNN BACKWARD-ROLLS!
Blade and Flynn somersault backwards… And Flynn once again has Blade locked in, DEAD-CENTER OF THE RING!
Blade’s face stews with anger! BRIGHT RED from both fury and pain, being caught like a trapped animal in Flynn’s armbar!
Marinara barks at Blade if he wants to submit!
Flynn screams at Blade to give it up!
…
Blade…
Blade SCREEEEEEEEEAMS!
…
…
AND BLADE PASSES OUT!
The official calls for the bell!
WINNER BY SUBMISSION: MARK FLYNN!
Flynn exhaustedly lifts himself to his feet, raising his arms in the air! Muscles Marinara sneers with disgust as he lifts Flynn’s arm… But also looks down angrily at Blade’s unconscious body!
JC: Wow! Absolute chaos from start-to-finish! Flynn started the match trying to infuriate Razor Blade… and very nearly got his ass kicked! Razor Blade showed off his usual explosive offense from start to finish!
BG: But, Flynn created an opening, Blade made a mistake… And that’s all Mark Flynn needs at his best. One mistake is all it takes for Flynn to secure the win.
JC: Well, I don’t know if we’re quite at ‘Flynn at his best’ yet… But a win is definitely a step in the right direction.
The opening baseline of No. 99 by Joey Bada$$ hits the PA and a spotlight pans over the crowd in search of Spencer before a camera cut shows us Spencer moving through the arena before eventually reaching a staircase between sections.
With the chorus playing out, the crowd’s chants of “BADMON!” carry throughout. Spencer marches down the stairs before hoping over and sitting atop the barricade. He looks over the crowd and raises an arm and pointed finger towards different parts of the crowd as he mouths the words “What’s my name?” for continued call and response.
Spencer pushes off and rolls into the ring nodding along to the song before dapping up the ring announcer and leaning against a corner in anticipation.
BG: I am looking forward to this one, Jayce.
JC: Jayce?
BG: It’s a nickname based off your initials!
The filthy saxophone of the Revels breaks the air as Comanche rocks the house. Spencer Adams waits as it continues to play.
And continues to play.
Eventually the music stops, and the referee looks over at the timekeeper with confusion. Spencer looks prepared for Bobby.
Comanche once again begins to play. Once again it stops after a moment. The fans begin to boo as Spencer watches up the ramp, then minds to look around the arena for Bobby.
Suddenly, on the Xtron, we see Bobby Bourbon, smiling.
JC: What’s going on here?
BG: I don’t know!
Bobby starts to laugh.
BB: Hey, Spencer, I know you were expecting competition here tonight, but, well, like your friends in Pantheon…
Bobby shrugs.
BB: I had better things to do tonight.
The fans all begin to boo.
BB: But, hey, think of it this way, tonight you got it easy!
Bobby laughs silently.
BB: Toodles!
Suddenly, Bobby Bourbon slides into the ring and gets the drop on Spencer Adams!
"BADMON" SPENCER ADAMS
- vs -
BOBBY BOURBON
Standard Singles
JC: That no good Bastard!
BG: He’s proud of that, Jayce!
JC: I wish someone would whoop his ass!
Bobby with a vicious forearm shot to the back of Spencer’s head! Badmon is feeling the clubbing blows from Bobby as the referee calls for the bell, starting the match! Bobby dumps Badmon to the outside, and stands in the middle of the ring, staring into the camera, a huge cheesy grin on his face as the crowd showers him with boos.
BG: Spencer Adams was caught off guard by that!
JC: You know, there was a time Bobby Bourbon had honor, and dignity.
BG: That time isn’t now, Jayce!
Bobby grins as he rolls to the outside, and he reaches under the ring! He pulls out a steel chair!
JC: This is NOT Xtreme Rules! The referee better do something!
Bobby raises the chair high above his head, looking to crack Spencer Adams with it! NO! The referee grabs the chair from inside the ring, and takes it from Bobby! Bobby turns to look at the ref, and yells at him! Badmon is back up and hits a chop block to Bobby, bringing him to a knee! Badmon is back up to a vertical base and he kicks Bobby in the lower back!
JC: Fierce shot to the kidneys by Spencer Adams!
The referee has begun his count!
1…
2…
Adams snags Bobby for a big DDT to the floor! NO! Bobby lifts Badmon up and grabs him in a bearhug, and rushes him into the ringpost backfirst!
3…
Bobby spins, looking to pancake Badmon, but Adams wriggles out Bobby’s after clapping Bobby’s ears!
4…
Badmon up for a hurricanrana! He is stopped by Bourbon, who hoists him back up!
JC: This looks bad for Badmon!
BG: The Bobbybomb is almost guaranteed to end a match, one to the outside might end a career!
5…
Badmon slides over Bobby’s shoulders, avoiding a Bobbybomb! Bobby spins as Badmon hits a snapmare! Badmon follows up with a low dropkick to Bobby’s spine!
BG: I tell you, Jayce, hitting Bobby’s massive back is like hitting a tank in it’s armor!
6…
Badmon brings Bobby to his feet, but Bobby swats his hands away! Bobby with a slug to Badmon’s gut! Bobby with a Big Boy Toss!
7…
NO! Adams actually lands on his feet following the big beal toss!
8…
Badmon slowly turns, and he and Bobby glare at one another!
9…
Both men rush into the ring! Back to their feet and Badmon peppers Bobby with a jab! Another left jab from Adams! Bourbon blocks the third jab, and rakes Spencer’s eyes! Bobby sneers as Spencer recoils, his vision impacted! Bobby lifts Spencer up into a torture rack, looking to do a Flatiron! Spencer rolls back with a crucifix pin!
1…
2…
Bobby kicks out with authority!
JC: Spencer Adams has been evading the big move from his opponent here tonight!
Badmon grips Bobby by the wrist, bringing him to his feet!
BG: If I were Spencer Adams I would leave the big man on the mat!
Badmon hooks Bobby and plants him with a DDT! The big man on the mat, Badmon stands and shoots off the ropes, rebounding with a charging standing shooting star press! He covers for the pin!
1…
2…
Bourbon gets a shoulder up! Adams gets up and walks slowly to the top rope! He soars, but Bobby gets his knees up and Adams lands hard on them! Badmon recoils as Bobby slowly gets to his feet, looking at Spencer with ill intent.
JC: Bobby isn’t going for the win, here, he wants to make a statement tonight!
Bobby beckons for Spencer to stand up as Bobby crouches, poised. Badmon to his feet!
SHORYUKEN!!!
BUT SIMULTANEOUSLY…
KOPPO KICK!!!
Bobby and Spencer hit nothing as they careen past one another! Spencer quick to his feet with another Koppo Kick! NO! Bobby catches the boot! He reaches down and grabs Spencer by the throat and brings him to his feet! Spencer tries to fight out of it, but Earth’s Mightiest Chokeslam to Badmon! Bobby with a pin!
1…
2…
Adams kicks out! Bobby yells at the referee, saying it was a three count!
BG: A member of Pantheon and a member of BOB met in the ring and neither liked what they saw tonight!
JC: This has been some wild action tonight, Beegee…
BG: Beegee?
JC: If you’re going to call me Jayce…
BG: Okay, I’ll stop.
JC: Regardless, could you imagine how insane this would be if either of these men had their partners with them tonight?
Bobby continues to argue with the referee as Badmon slowly gets to his feet behind him! Bobby spins, and Badmon with a kick to Bobby’s gut! RICHTER SPIKE from Badmon onto Bourbon!
JC: Woah! That’s one of Bobby’s moves, Badmon had him scouted!
Spencer holds the leg for the pin!
1…
2…
Bourbon kicks out! Badmon rolls away, looking deflated, as Bobby looks absolutely incensed that Spencer Adams used that fisherman’s falcon arrow to such effect! Adams climbs to the top rope as Bobby slowly stands, still dazed from being dropped on his skull!
JC: This could be it here!
BG: Bourbon is dazed, this could be the opportunity for Spencer Adams to drop the hammer!
Adams soars through the air with a huge Quarantine! Bobby is planted on the mat! Spencer Adams is to his feet, and Bobby groggily gets to a knee!
99 PROBLEMS! Bourbon is plastered in the jaw and falls to the mat! Badmon with the pin!
1…
2…
And the referee is pulled out of the ring by Thunder Knuckles, who hopped the barricade from out of nowhere! Adams sees what’s happening and looks enraged! He rolls out of the ring and gives chase to TK, who retreats up the ramp, flipping off Badmon as he does!
JC: That low down Thunder Knuckles just saved his infernal partner!
BG: Adams is high and dry here tonight, but TK is gone!
JC: The damage is done, though!
Badmon turns and rustles the referee, helping him up! The referee looks baffled as Badmon tries to explain what happened! The referee nods and gets back into the ring as Bobby is stirring! Badmon beckons for Bobby to get up, and he slowly does get to one knee!
JC: Adams is going to decapitate Bourbon again and I can’t wait!
BG: 198 Problems is TOO MANY PROBLEMS!
Adams charges in with another 99 Problems! NO! Bobby catches him!
JC: Oh, no, no, no!
BG: It’s about to get gruesome, folks.
Bobby brings himself to his feet, Adams still on his shoulders! Adams is wide eyed, and he tries to fight out of it…
BOBBYBOMB!!
Bourbon sits out with the Bobbybomb, holding the legs and the pin, looking absolutely exhausted.
1…
2…
3!
WINNER VIA PINFALL:BOBBY BOURBON
JC: Damn it, I know I’m supposed to be impartial, but there’s no excuse for the Bastards tonight.
BG: Spencer Adams gave it a good shot tonight, but it takes your best shot to put Bourbon down, let alone the Bastards.
JC: Oh, I think even your best shot can be stopped when your opponent sneak attacks you to start a match and has their best friend save him.
The Thaddeus Duke ‘Sirius’ intro blasts through the FedEx Forum to a gigantic pop from the Memphis chapter of the XWF Universe.
JC: It seems as though we’ll be joined here momentarily by the living legend, the Lionheart, Thaddeus Duke!
BG: You’re such a mark, Jacuinde!
JC: Yeah, kinda!
BG: Last time on Warfare, we thought it was Thad but it turned out to be young Frankie Duke!
After ‘Sirius’ transitions to ‘My Name Is Human’, Thaddeus Duke emerges from backstage to a roar from Memphis.
JC: He did not come alone!
BG: Hell, he brought the whole damn family!
JC: Thaddeus Duke! Accompanied by his wife Sahara and eldest son Frankie!
Thaddeus has a short conversation with his wife and son before sending them back through the curtain.
JC: It appears the man will speak for himself tonight right here on Warfare!
BG: Hey that kid of his was pretty okay on the stick!
Thad hits the ring and is handed a mic as his entrance theme fades out. Memphis though, continues to serenade the Lionheart.
Y’know, no matter where I go and how often I depart, it’s always good to come back to the House That Duke Built!
Easy pop.
We didn’t build it alone! We built it with your help. See, over the last dozen years, every time they thought the XWF was about to founder and capsize and sink beneath the waves, there was a Duke right there holding this mother fucker above the surface, refusing to allow it to die.
Time and time again, any time there was a major resurgence of this company, some how some way, there just always seems to be a Duke involved in the plot to resuscitate the damn thing. With your help, naturally.
Even easier pop.
It’s been a long time since I’ve stood in this ring and addressed Duke Nation and I gotta tell you… I haven’t felt this alive since the last time I fucked up all of Cypher’s plans.
Roarous pop.
I mean before last Warfare… and the time before that at March Madness.
See, there have been some rumors floatin’ around that I’d put away the trunks and boots and I was ready to call it a career.
Boos. Lots and lots of boos.
To the chagrin and ire of many… and to borrow a line from someone somewhere… the rumors of my demise have been greatly exaggerated.
No more boos, only pops.
What is a Cypher? A cypher is a secret… a code. I got news for that son of a bitch, I cracked that code two years ago.
JC: These fans just eat out of the palm of his hand!
BG: He’s so far down your throat I’m surprised you can breathe!
He thinks he’s smart. He thinks he’s special. He’s used to clown town like the Strader-filled OCW where he can talk a big game and ain’t a damn one of them smart enough to catch on.
Thad motions for the ring announcer to get into the ring before handing him the microphone.
Hold this up… Tyler… you sayin’ I’m a pussy? That I hide behind Frankie? Ain’t neither one of those things true and we both know that. We both know that was bait and you want me so bad to swallow that bitch whole… but you forget I’m a whole different breed than the bullshit you’re used to.
But I’m gonna do you a favor…
Thad reaches into the back pocket of his jeans and pulls out a pair of handcuffs, holding them up.
Do they look familiar, Tyler? Did you wear a pair just like this when they came for you? Did they… close them a little too tight? Did it hamper your ability to rub one out to all the women you hacked that’d never give your Splinter lookin’ ass the time of day?
Thad clasps the handcuffs onto his right hand, puts both hands behind his back and clasps the other.
So here I am, Tyler. I’m knowingly and willingly taking the bait. I’m putting myself at your mercy. So you get your scrawny ass out here… and you make it fucking count.
In the ring, Thad hits his knees in the center, awaiting the arrival of the former Television champion, Cypher.
Cypher slowly makes his way out to the ramp, face twisted into a sneer. The crowd boos loudly, but he pays them no mind, his eyes are locked on Thad. He slides into the ring but doesn’t go after Thad right away, instead grabbing a microphone.
“Man what is this, the Duke household after 8pm?”
Boos. Cypher smirks.
“If you had a humiliation kink, Thad, you could’ve just said something.”
Cypher laughs. The crowd continued to boo.
“What’s wrong? Don’t have your son to fight your battles any more, Thad? Wait…you’re not his real father though, are you? No, you’re the reason he doesn’t have a father.”
ooooo
“Just like Sahara’s the reason he doesn’t have an uncle. You guys really are parents of the year, huh? I bet you thought it was cute sending your son out during a live match. He was so eager to help Cashe steal my title last week, I wonder if he’ll be as eager to help his pretend daddy?!”
OOOOOO
Cypher reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small burlap sack. He tips it upside down…POURING THUMBTACKS ONTO THE MAT IN FRONT OF THAD!
JC: Thumbtacks! A creep and a Lionheart!
BG: Calling him a creep isn’t honest, Jacuinde! He should sue you for slander!
The crowd gasps at the sight of the tacks, while Cypher just smiles. Thad remains stoic, despite the implication.
“Frankie, if you’re watching backstage, I just want you to know that what’s about to happen is all your fault.”
Cypher drills Thad with a superkick right on his chin, then another! Then he starts just blasting him with hard kicks to the midsection, eventually causing Thad to double over. Cypher bounces off the ropes, then runs up and SLAMS THAD FACE FIRST INTO THE TACKS WITH A CURB STOMP!!
JC: Oh my god, what the hell did I just witness!
BG: Cypher just turned one of the icons of this company into a human pin cushion!!
Blood is now flowing out of Thad’s face from where the tacks have been embedded. Cypher grabs Thad by the hair, and holds him up towards the entrance ramp, as if sending a message directly to his wife and child.
“Maybe next time, think about the consequences, Frankie.”
He then lifts Thad up and drills him with a knee to the face - GAME OVER GTS! He slinks out of the ring and heads backstage, leaving Thad a bloody mess in the ring.
JC: Thaddeus Duke is bloody! He’s on dream street…
BG: And Cypher is satisfied with the result!
From the stage, Cypher admires his work when his theme suddenly cuts off.
”Tyler,” comes the voice of Sahara, Thad’s wife. ”Congratulations on all your success!”
Medics rush past Cypher.
”Consider this an official challenge, Tyler. My husband… versus you… at The Revelry. You have two weeks to consider this challenge. Next Warfare, there will be no gimmicks, no games, no tricks, no plots, no scheming 13 year old boys.
”Just you, face to face, man to man with my husband to sign that contract.”
Memphis cheers the prospect of Thad vs Cypher.
JC: What a bombshell! Cypher has been officially challenged for the Revelry next month by the Duke Family. Of which, it’ll be Frankie Duke’s father, despite what Cypher says!
BG: Cypher was right! If it wasn’t for Thaddeus Duke…
JC: Brody, I’m gonna stop you right there! Thaddeus Duke went through a legal, court adoption process to adopt that orphaned child and you or Cypher trying to demonize such a thing is just preposterous and low, even for you.
That said, in two weeks, Cypher has the option to meet Thaddeus Duke face to face in this very ring to sign the contract for The Revelry in May!
“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: Latoya Hixx has what not everyone in the wrestling industry has. PURE, RAW POWER. Sheer, unadulterated STRENGTH!
BG: Absolutely! We saw it on display in her debut last month on Anarchy. The Over-the-Top battle royal, she was tossing grown men around the ring like children! She was a heavy favorite to go all the way before that wily veteran Centurion used her own strength against her to propel her over the top rope!
Hixx slides under the bottom rope! She marches toward the hard-cam, spreading her arms wide as the crowd cheers! Hixx stands there in the ring to wait for her opponent to arrive.
JC: Latoya has struggled to string a victory together so far in her very short XWF career. But that potential! That POWER! Is the reason she’s competing tonight for the TV Title!
BG: It wouldn’t be the first time in XWF History that a competitor’s first win came with championship gold! Can Latoya do it tonight?
The hymn-like hum vibrates through the area before Lauren Hill soundfully brings in the chorus. Jason Cashe comes out from the back, stopping at the edge of the stage. Looking around the arena at the live audience, he takes a long drag off an air joint before howling up into the sky! A few fans howl with him.
JC: The DiOGee! The truly, troubled one! The ultra-controversial Televsion Champion, Jason Cashe!
BG: HIs words may be controversial, but his dominance over the TV division on Warfare is undisputed, JC. Cashe has been rolling through opponents ever since he beat his old SAGA-mate, Raion Kido!
JC: Cashe is dominant, for sure. But, it only takes one wrong move for a winning streak to end!
Stopping as the aisle turns to ringside, Cashe drags a foot creating an imaginary line. This is the line where when passed, the talking stops. Cashe leaps up on the apron onto his left knee. He stands, ducking under the top rope to enter the ring.
The official steps up between the two competitors. Hixx sneers, focused on the belt.
Cashe heaves it off its shoulder, like the burden of greatness is heavy… As he slings it into the referee’s hands. He grins, nodding at Hixx. Hixx fumes angrily.
JC: Clearly no love loss between these competitors, Brody!
BG: Nope! Latoya referred to Cashe this week as, and I quote, the ‘worst champion ever!’ And Cashe was no kinder, calling Latoya and her partner Razor Blade, the ‘biggest jokes on the roster’!
JC: This is NOT going to be a respectful contest. This is going to get ugly FAST!
The official lifts the belt between the two, before handing it off to the timekeeper! The timekeeper starts the 15 minute clock!
A combination of right-right-left smacks drives Hixx back towards her corner!
JC: Cashe’s offense is as unorthodox as it is infuriating to his opponent!
BG: Not to mention effective, JC! By extending his hands, rather than closing his fists, Cashe keeps his opponent at arm’s length! And against a powerhouse like Latoya Hixx, Cashe wants to keep his challenger as far away as possible!
Hixx’s back hits the turnbuckle, more surprised than rocked by Cashe’s slap boxing barrage!
Suddenly, Hixx roars, charging through Cashe’s blows! She grabs him by the shoulders and hucks him into the corner!
JC: Oh no! Hixx has Cashe trapped in the corner! It’s no man’s land for the TV Champ!
Hixx swings for the fences with a knife edge chop across Cashe’s throat!
…But Cashe ducks under the strike! And with Hixx’s face uncovered, Cashe brings his hands up…
EAR CLAP!
JC: Discombobulate!
BG: Indeed, JC! Hixx just got her wires scrambled after that shot!
Hixx’s eyes flutter, clearly rocked by that skull strike… She stutter steps backwards toward the center of the ring…
As Cashe pushes himself off the turnbuckle…
And catches Hixx square in the jaw with a running big boot! Yakuza Kick!
Hixx drops like a felled redwood!
JC: WOW! That sounded like a thunderclap against Hixx’s skull!
Cashe scrambles to make the cover on Hixx! The official drops to count!
1!
2!
TH-NO!
Hixx forces a shoulder off the mat!
JC: Incredible toughness by Hixx! That move would drop most competitors for the three-count!
BG: Well, Hixx is not most competitors! But, ya gotta remember, if she wants the belt, she can’t just outlast Cashe… She’s gotta beat him in the time limit!
13:57
13:56
13:55
Cashe looks up at the clock on the X-Tron, as Hixx shakes off cobwebs, trying to rise to her feet!
Cashe quickly scoops Hixx’s neck into a side sleeper, driving his body weight onto her back!
Hixx is immediately planted into her face!
JC: Ah! It looks like Cashe is acutely aware of Hixx’s time limit! He’s putting her in a sleeper hold to drain precious time off the clock!
Hixx grits her teeth angrily, trying to shift onto her knees…
But Cashe delivers a sharp kick to Hixx’s ankle! She drops right back onto her face, as the champ wrenches his grip around her throat tighter!
JC: Great sleeper technique by Cashe! By wrenching Hixx’s head up and backwards, he’s using her own spine to prevent her from reaching her feet!
BG: Hixx’s face is turning bright red in Cashe’s vice grip! Hard to tell if it’s from lack of oxygen or sheer anger!
12:48…
12:47…
12:46…
Hixx…
Twists her ass off the mat!
Cashe’s feet are thrust into the air!
As Hixx deadlifts all of Cashe’s body weight onto her back!
JC: Oh my GOD! Latoya Hixx just deadlifted TWO-HUNDRED-THIRTY-FIVE pounds! From lying down!
Cashe tries to release the sleeper and hop off this ride…
But Hixx clinches onto his neck and rear!
AND SHE SLAMS HERSELF BACKWARDS!
A hellacious Samoan drop!
JC: WOW!
Cashe grips his ribs, looking physically ill from that impact!
Hixx impatiently shoves Cashe’s skull against the mat, pressing her body weight onto the champion’s!
The official counts!
1!
2!
THR-NOOOOO!
The champion rolls his shoulder off the mat! The match continues!
JC: Incredible! Cashe finds the will to hang on through that hellacious slam!
BG: But the tide has turned in the challenger’s favor! Hixx is looking like she’s in full control now!
Hixx grumbles angrily as she wraps her hands around Cashe’s throat. Hixx simultaneously chokes the champion, and throttles his skull against the mat!
JC: Hixx trying to turn Cashe’s own air deprivation strategy against him!
BG: Only difference is a sleeper hold is a legal maneuver! This choke is not!
Indeed, the official starts counting over Hixx’s choking to break the hold!
1!
2!
3!
F-
Hixx releases the hold and stands up, getting all up in the referee’s face, daring him to say something!
The official puts his hands up defensively, as Hixx spins back toward her fallen opponent!
She grips Cashe by the skull, dragging him to his feet… Then, lifting him into powerslam position!
She falls backward… HEAVING CASHE OVER HER HEAD!
Fallaway slam! Cashe gets CHUCKED like a sack of potatoes, landing HARD on his back! He rolls all the way to the side of the ring!
Hixx scrambles onto Cashe once more!
The official drops to count…
1!
2!
THR-NO!
Cashe extends his leg and gets his foot onto the rope!
JC: Cashe again relies on his high wrestling IQ to stay alive!
BG: But how many tricks does Cashe have left in the bag?
8:51…
8:50…
8:49…
Hixx stares at the clock on the X-Tron, furiously. She draws a thumb across her throat, signaling for the end!
She grabs Cashe by the scruff of the neck, scooping him onto his feet… Before heaving him off the ground into a squeeze! Bear hug!
Cashe howls! His arms extend to both sides as Latoya Hixx squeezes the life out of him!
BG: Latoya Hixx’s trademark Bearhug!
JC: This could be it! We could have a new champion!
The official looks over Hixx’s shoulder, asking Cashe if he’d like to submit!
Cashe shakes his head… His arms shake!
Hixx screams at Cashe to give up, squeezing the life out of him!
Cashe… Cashe pushes his body straight so his arms aren’t dangling over Hixx’s shoulders…
…
AND RAPIDLY, HE SLAMS HIS PALMS AGAINST HIXX’S SKULL!
THAT EAR CLAP JUST RUNG HIXX’S BELL!
JC; A desperation strike from Cashe! He hit Hixx exactly where she got rocked earlier the match!
Hixx drops to one knee… But still clings onto Cashe in her grip!
But, with Cashe’s feet on the ground, he wrenches a leg up…
And drives a knee straight into Hixx’s chin! Knee lift strike!
Hixx is looking loopy… She shoves Cashe away, toward the ropes to give herself recovery time!
Cashe steps backwards, rebounding off the ropes…
Hixx returns to her feet, ready to get back on off-
WHAAAAAAM! Huge bullhammer elbow! THE MARK OF JASON!
JC: Oh my god, that strike ECHOED around the arena…
BG: That elbow has ended many matches for some of the best competitors in XWF History!
…
JC: And somehow, Hixx remains on her feet!
It’s true! After that hellacious Mark of Jason, Latoya Hixx is still standing!
…But, that elbow clearly took a chunk of her skull! She’s bleeding and looks severely dizzy!
She tries to step forward… But slips backward, bouncing against the ropes!
And into Cashe’s arms!
Cashe scoops her into a front face lock!
Heaves her into the air..
JC: HOLY SH**! Incredible strength by Cashe!
And with little grace, but a lot of FORCE, Cashe HEAVES HIXX ONTO THE MAT!
SCRAP ACTION DRIVER!
The crowd leaps to its feet, as the champion hooks the leg!
The official counts!
1!
2!
THREE!
Winner and STILL XWF TELEVISION CHAMPION - JASON CASHE
A Huge Thank You to the following match writers:
Bobby Bourbon
Dolly Waters
King Kieran
Peter Principle x2
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