Narrator: Fresh off his grueling defeat at The Revelry, Bulk Logan, still nursing his wounds, storms into his agent Larry's office with a rage that could shake the foundations of any building.

We open inside of Larry's office that is tastefully decorated with sports memorabilia, awards, and photos of his clients. Larry is behind his large mahogany desk, reviewing paperwork, when the door slams open, and Bulk Logan barges in. "Larry, this is absolute garbage!"

Barely looking up, and visibly annoyed, Larry answers: "What now, Bulk?"

Bulk's fuming, pacing back and forth. "What now? That match at The Revelry was a joke! Fighting in the dirt? Are you kidding me? How is that professional? I missed my big moves because I was swarmed with gnats and mosquitoes the entire time!"

Larry puts down his papers with a sign. "Alright, calm down. Explain to me how that led to you missing your moves."

Bulk begins gesturing wildly. "I couldn’t focus, Larry! I was constantly swatting away those damn bugs. And now my shoulder! It’s killing me from all those moves into the steel steps. Now everyone thinks that Corey Black is better than me! Nobody's better than the Bulkster, dude, and it's YOUR JOB to make sure everyone knows it, brother!"

Larry leans back in his chair, clearly irritated. "Okay, Bulk, just tell me what you want want from me."

"I want out of the XTreme division. That hardcore stuff doesn’t work for me, brother! The support from the Bulkamaniac's was at an all-time low. Some of them were booing me, Larry. Booing! I thought we were past this, dude!"

Larry leans forward, clasping his hands together. "Bulk, some fans were booing because you looked out of your element, and on top of that, your refusal to adapt to the hardcore style left some of the more bloodthirsty fans feeling cheated, and honestly—at the end of the day—everyone expected a show, and you didn't give it to them."

Bulk stops pacing, his face turning red with anger. "So you're saying this is my fault?"

Larry shakes his head. "No, Bulk, I'm saying that you're right – maybe the hardcore scene isn't the right fit for you. Your strengths lie elsewhere. Your charisma, your power moves, your larger-than-life persona – that's what draws people in. Not smashing through tables and swinging steel chairs."

"That's what I've been saying, brother!" Bulk sighs, finally sitting down in a chair opposite Larry's desk. "So what do we do now? I can't keep going out there and getting booed, brother. It's killing me. We have to turn this around!"

Larry nods, leaning back in his chair. "Alright, Bulk. We'll shift our focus away from the XTreme title. We'll find another avenue to propel you upwards."

Bulk's shoulders relax, a sense of relief washing over him. "Thanks, Larry. That's all I’m asking for. Just give me a chance to show everyone what the power of Bulkamania can accomplish, dude!"

Larry stands up, moving around the desk to place a reassuring hand on Bulk's shoulder. "You've got it. But for now, you need to rest up. Get that shoulder checked out and take some time to heal. You’ve got to follow this loss with a big win if you want to win over the fans again."

Bulk nods. "Yeah, yeah. I hear you. I’ll be ready. Just make sure there's none of that hardcore nonsense, dude!"

Larry gives him a firm pat on the back. "Don't worry, I'll personally ensure that you're no longer booked in Xtreme rules matches. Now go rest up and be ready to show the Bulkamaniac's what we're really about."

Narrator: As Bulk Logan leaves Larry's office, a plan is set in motion to reclaim his place at the top, away from the hardcore environment that doesn't suit him. The Bulkster is determined to prove his worth and win back the support of the Bulkamaniac's. At Warfare, he'll have his chance to show the world why he is the greatest.

---

---

---

Narrator: A few days later, Bulk Logan is at his beach shop, a bustling breach front shop in Venice Beach, California that's filled to the brim with overpriced Bulk merchandise. The walls are lined with posters of Bulk in various heroic poses, and the shelves are stocked with signed photos, action figures, t-shirts and replica TV titles (the Xtreme title reps are on order).

The shop is filled with fans browsing through the merchandise. Bulk sits behind the counter, a forced but bright smile plastered on his face as he interacts with the Bulkamaniac's.

"Hey there, little dudes! What 'cha got there, brother?"

Fan 1: (holding up an old t-shirt) "Can you sign this for me, Bulk? You're my hero!"

Bulk smiles, but shakes his head "no". "Sorry, brother, it's store policy not to sign items from outside of the shop. But don't worry! We’ve got some awesome new shirts right here, and I’d be happy to sign one for you." Bulk holds up a shirt from the shop that's honestly identical to the older shirt the fan brought in. "Just $200, and you’ll have a brand new, signed Bulkamania t-shirt, dude!"

Fan 1: "I... I can't afford that. I just wanted your autograph, Bulk."

"Well, little dude, I understand, but rules are rules. Come back when you have some spare change, dude!"

The fan starts to walk away, visibly disappointed. Bulk notices some of the other patrons looking at him with disapproval, their faces reflecting disappointment in their hero.

Bulk quickly changes his demeanor and lets out a forced laugh. "Hey, hold on a second! I was just messing with you, brother! Of course I'll sign your shirt."

Bulk takes the old t-shirt and signs it with a big smile, handing it back to the fan.

"There you go, brother! Keep that spirit of Bulkamania alive, and remember, the Bulkster always has your back!"

Fan 1: "Thanks, Bulk! You're the best!"

Bulk grins, trying to regain the crowd's approval. "No problem, dude! I'd do anything for my loyal Bulkamaniac's, even break store policy!"

Fan 2: "Mr. Logan, can I get a picture with you?"

"Sure thing, kid—Just talk to Randy at the counter and tell him you want the deluxe Bulkamania package!"

Fan 2: "What's that?"

"The best deal in the shop, brother! You get 2 t-shirts, a battery operated Bulkster protein shake mixer, a DVD of Bulk's greatest matches in WPW, an autographed 8x12 and today only, one photograph with yours truly, all for just $350, dude! Even the power of Bulkamania can't keep these bargains down, dude!"

Fan 2: "I don't want that. How much for just a picture with you?"

"Pictures only come with the deluxe package, sweetie." 

The fan doesn't say anything, but her disappointed expression is a mirror of the disapproval on the faces of the other patrons.

"Damn it... Screw it, brother! Come on over here." Bulk takes the fan's phone out of her hand and puts an arm around her, posing for the picture. "Say "Bulkamania!"

Fan 2: "Bulkamania!"

Bulk snaps the shot and hands back the fan’s phone. "There you go, brother. Stay strong and keep believing!"

Fan 3: (excitedly) Bulk, I saw your match at The Revelry! You were amazing, even if Corey Black got lucky!

Bulk's smile falters for a split second. "Thanks, little dude. Corey Black might have had his moment, but the Bulkster is just getting started. Now, what can I sign for you today—something from the shop, I hope..?"

Fan 3 holds out an older action figure from the shelf with a huge price-tag of $125.00. "This, please!"

Bulk signs it with a signature that resembles a big B and L with a seemingly random squiggles around them. "Here you go, brother. Keep fighting the good fight, and remember, Bulkamania never dies!"

Narrator: As the fans continue to gush over Bulk, he maintains his facade of a nice guy and a hero, but the strain is evident. His eyes occasionally flicker with annoyance, but he quickly masks it with another forced smile.

"Alright, who’s next? Let’s keep this Bulkamania train rolling, dudes!"

Fan 4 (holding up a $50 poster): Can you make this out to my son, Tommy? He’s your biggest fan!

"You got it!"

To Tommy, stay awesome and keep the spirit of Bulkamania alive! – Bulk Logan.

"Here you go, and remember—there's a $50 upcharge for autographs, dude!"

Narrator: Despite the outward show of positivity and heroism, Bulk Logan’s true feelings simmer just below the surface, as he grapples with his recent defeat and the pressure to maintain his image.

The shop phone rings. Randy, Bulk's employee working the front counter, picks up the receiver and listens for a moment before calling out to Bulk.

"Bulk! It's for you."

Bulk waves him off. "Tell them I'm busy, brother! I've got fans to take care of."

"It's Larry. Says he has news about your next match."

Bulk's forced smile fades as he nods. "Alright, I'll take it in the back." He turns to the crowd of fans. "Hold tight, little dudes! The Bulkster will be right back. In the meantime, look around. We have anything and everything a Bulkamania fan could ask for!"

Fan 5: "Do you have replica Xtreme titles?"

"Except for that! Be right back, dudes!" 

He walks through the "Employees Only" door, entering a small, cluttered office in the back. Bulk picks up the phone, closing the door behind him.

"Larry, what's up, brother? This better be important, I was right in the middle of swindling these sheep for everything they got, dude!"


"Relax, dude, I'm alone. Now what's up, brother?"


"Get to the point, Larry—Who am I facing?"


Bulk sounds relieved: "Okay, good. Just confirm that this isn't an Xtreme rules match, Larry."


"Perfect! There's no way some bald girl – batting 50% at best – who doesn't even weigh as much as one of Bulk's thighs stands a chance surviving in the ring against the full force of Bulkamania, dude!"


Bulk's reply is hesitant: "Well, I've given away tons of free autographs and photo ops today trying to get the fans back on my side. I think it's working, but I still feel the pressure."


Bulk, skeptical and a little worried, asks: "What are you talking about, Larry?"


"Leap of Faith? What's that?"


"That sounds like a rocket straight to the top, brother!?"


"Alright, Larry. I'm in. Dolly Waters won't know what hit her. I'm going to take that Leap of Faith and show the world that the Bulkster is still the greatest professional wrestler alive, dude!"


"Please, dude, Dolly Waters is light work for the Bulkster!"


"Who?"


Grinning: "Not for long, brother. Thanks for the heads-up."

Bulk hangs up the phone and takes a moment to compose himself. He then heads back out to the shop, his forced cheerfulness returning as he prepares to face the fans once more.

Narrator: As Bulk Logan re-enters his beach shop, the forced cheerfulness returns to his face. However, a sudden, unexpected visitor disrupts the scene.

"Sorry about that, little dudes! Who's ready for more Bulkamania?"

Micheal Graves approaches the counter with a mischievous grin. "Can you sign this, Bulkster?"

Micheal Graves slaps a bootleg Bulkamania dildo onto the counter—24 inches—GIRTH!

Bulk is instantly disgusted and outraged. "What the hell is this, brother? That's SICK, and on top of that, it's BOOTLEG! You can't bring that garbage in here, dude!"

"Oh, come on, Bulk. I just want you to autograph it... in Dolly's blood after your match. I can pay! I got an advance on my tag match with Vinnie! What you want? $50? $100?"

Bulk's face turns red with fury. He reaches across the counter, grabbing Graves by the nap of the neck like a cat.

"Listen here, brother. I don't know what kind of sick games you're playing, but you don't mess with the Bulkster's business, here or in the ring, dude!"

"Come on man, I can help you! I've beaten Dolly Waters tons of times! Usually so badly that she quits. I know what makes her tick!"

With a display of raw power, Bulk lifts Graves off the ground and physically throws him out of the shop. Graves flies through the air in a comical fashion, crashing onto the sand outside. The patrons in the shop watch in stunned silence, Bulk looks around nervously, expecting them to turn on him, but then they burst into cheers, applauding Bulk's decisive action.

Bulk smirks and dusts off his hands. "And stay out, brother!"

He turns back to the crowd, trying to regain his composure and the forced cheerfulness.

"Alright, little dudes! Let's get back to it. Who's next?"

Narrator: The fans cheer louder, their admiration for Bulk growing. Bulk continues to interact with them, signing merchandise and taking photos, but the encounter with Graves lingers in his mind as he wonders what nuggets of information the disheveled colleague might be able to divulge, and eventually he sends Randy outside to find him.

---

---

---

Later that day, Bulk sits behind his desk, the forced cheerfulness gone, replaced by a serious, contemplative expression. The door creaks open, and Randy ushers Micheal Graves inside.

"Alright, Graves, you're here. What can you tell me about Dolly Waters that might help?"

Micheal Graves sneers and holds up the bootleg BULK dildo again. "I’ll tell you everything you want to know... if you promise to do as I ask."

Bulk grimaces: "I can't do that, brother. It would destroy Bulkamania if I did that."

Graves scoffs: "Destroy Bulkamania? What does that even mean?"

Bulk leans forward with a serious expression: "It's the fans' energy that drives me to succeed, to push beyond my limits, to be the best. If they saw the image of Bulk attacking Dolly Waters—or anyone for that matter—with a dildo, it would all be over, dude. Bulkamania is built on respect and admiration. That... thing, would ruin everything."

Graves' eyes narrow: "Fine, I get it. Sort of. But you still need my help, and I need something in return."

Bulk sighs: "What do you want, Graves?"

Graves grins mischievously: "When you drop the Leg Drop of Gloom on Dolly, I want you to rip a big burrito fart right on her face!"

Bulk can't help but laugh despite himself. "Usually happens anyway, brother. Deal."

"Good. Now, here’s what you need to know about Dolly. She's quick and relentless. She doesn't back down easily, and she can take a lot of punishment. She's got this move, the Running Waters, a running Shining Wizard Knee Strike that can knock you out cold if you're not careful."

"Alright. Quick and relentless, huh? Anything else?"

"Yeah, she's torn between light and dark. She struggles with staying on the right path. Use that against her. Get in her head, make her doubt herself. It's really not hard."

"Apparently not, if someone like you can beat her... How many times again?"

"I'm going to forget you said that. Just remember our deal, Bulk."

"Don't worry, she'll be tasting bean and beef for weeks, dude... Now get out of here before I change my mind about kicking your ass over that bootleg garbage."

Graves takes his cue as Bulk watches him go and sprays some Lysol in the general area.

Narrator: As the week wears on, Bulk Logan prepares for his upcoming match against Dolly Waters, armed with new information and a renewed sense of purpose. Even with the waning support of his fans and the energy of Bulkamania, he is ready to prove that he is still the greatest.

---

---

---

"Dolly Waters, let’s get one thing straight, brother. You’re stepping into the ring with the real deal, the Bulkster, the living legend, the unstoppable force of Bulkamania! 

You think you can handle this? 

Think again, because you’re about to face a force that’ll leave you flattened, humiliated, and begging for mercy, dude!

Now, Dolly, I’ve never paid you too much attention, dude, but for obvious reasons, I've been watching you a lot lately, and I’ve got to say, it’s been pretty hard to follow, brother! 

One minute you’re this dark, brooding, ‘Gypsy Queen,’ and the next you’re trying to be some kind of blonde savior, all sunshine and rainbows. 

Pick a lane, Dolly! That Micheal Graves dude is supposed to have some sort of split personality disorder, not you, and it’s embarrassing to watch, brother! You've proven time and again that you’re not a force to be reckoned with like the Bulkster, but instead a farce to be beaten, dude! You’ve been so busy trying to figure out who you are, that you've forgotten what really matters – the ability to win, brother!

Remember that drama with Chris Appleton? You acted like a diva, more concerned about your look than your moves.

Well, brother, it doesn't matter if you’re blonde, brunette, or bald, you’re still the same weak, indecisive competitor who could never hold a candle to the sheer will and determination of Bulkster, and my millions of Bulkamaniac's, dude! 

Your hair was never the problem, and neither were whatever extracurricular activities you pursued outside of the ring, dude. 

It's ALWAYS been your lack of focus, your lack of commitment, your lack of everything that makes a true champion, brother!

You’ve been floundering, Dolly, trying to find your place, but let me tell you where your place is – it’s at the bottom of the heap, staring up at the greatness that is Bulk Logan! 

You’re not a champion, you’re a chump! 

You think I'm wrong because you’ve won some titles?

You’ve been lucky, Dolly, pure and simple. 

Luck won’t save you when you step into the ring with the Bulkster! 

I’ve seen your matches, I’ve watched you struggle and scrape by, and I’ve seen you fail. 

Jason Cashe crushed you in the trash compactor. You got squashed like a bug on national TV, and even after the Revelry, you’re still picking yourself up from that, brother! 

And let’s not forget your so-called greatest rivalry with Michael Graves. He’s played you like a fiddle, more than once, exposing you for the weak, pathetic loser you are!

Speaking of Michael Graves—you’re pathetic! 

You apparently hallucinate this man for advice—a man who spent years making your life hell—and still lives rent free in the noggin, as much as you hate to admit it, dude! 

You’re a puppet, Dolly, dancing on strings pulled by everyone around you!

Graves, Maluna, Appleton – they’ve all had you running in circles, making you look like a fool. You’re not a warrior, you're a case study into the ill effects of child-stardom on the adult mind, and you're about as wacky as any of them, brother!

You've got moves like Corey—


—and brains like Britney!


In the ring, you’ve had some wins, sure. You’ve beaten some names, but when it comes to real competition, you fold like a cheap suit. 

Vinnie Lane? Big deal! You dropped a man with a bad neck on his head and thought you were on top of the world.

Guess what, dude? 

Vinnie Lane is yesterday’s news, and so are you, brother! 

You’re not facing washed-up has-beens anymore. 

You’re facing the peak of power, the pinnacle of prowess, the unstoppable force that is Bulk Logan!

You think you’ve got the grit and determination to take me down? 

Dream on, sister! 

You’re stepping into the ring with a man who’s built like a tank, who’s got the power of Bulkamania coursing through his veins, and who’s ready to crush you under the weight of his sheer dominance! 

You might have a few pervy fans cheering for you, dude, but they’re nothing compared to the legions of Bulkamaniac's backing me in my corner, brother! They’re the lifeblood of my strength, and they’re behind me every step of the way!

When I step into that ring, it’s not just for me, it’s for every single Bulkamaniac out there. They believe in me, they cheer for me, and they know that I’ll walk over broken glass to bring them victory, dude! 

You? 

You're just a lost soul trying to find her way, and when you step into the ring with me, you’re going to get swallowed up by the shadow of my greatness!

We're fighting for a slot in the Leap of Faith match.

You think you could handle that pressure even if you made it? 

Dream on, sister! 

You've blown every big opportunity you've ever had, brother, but I'm not letting you squander this one! I'm going to crush you like an ant under the weight of my Leg Drop of Gloom, and then it’s game over for anyone who stands between me and that case, dude! 

The power of Bulkamania is unstoppable, and I’m going to prove it by winning that Leap of Faith match and showing the world that the Bulkster is still the greatest!

But before we get there, there's one question that's still unanswered, dude:





Whatcha gonna do when Bulk Logan and all the Bulkamaniac's come to Denver, Colorado and run wild on YOU!?!"