Isaiah King must inform staff of his chosen match type by March 21st
Deadline is 11:59:59pm PST 28th of March
“To be, or not to be, that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them: to die, to sleep
No more; and by a sleep, to say we end
The heart-ache, and the thousand natural shocks
That Flesh is heir to? 'Tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wished. To die, to sleep,
To sleep, perchance to Dream; aye, there's the rub,
For in that sleep of death, what dreams may come…”
“I haveth a dream…”
The throne of the XWF is heavily encrusted with jewels of every colour. The light of the English sun in Stratford-upon-Avon sends radiant glimmers in every direction as a cool, gentle breeze floats across the parklands just across the river from the Royal Shakespeare Theatre where the rest of the night’s festivities will take place. But here, tents have been erected, flags raised, and an entire village has sprung up overnight.
The throne sits in the middle of it all; the marketplace, the armory, the brothel…
Atop a raised platform, it surveys a battlefield, with rows upon rows of seating rising up behind him. ‘Noblemen’ populate the lower rows - closer to the action. But the camera pans further up, the clothes become more tattered and the faces more splotched.
Still, the throne sparkles.
And on it, sits King Kieran, of the House of King, first of his name.
King: Verily I doth speaketh of a dream so incomprehensible that one must consider mine very mind most unwell. ‘Tis a dream nonetheless.
‘Tis mine dream.
And here on the eve of mine greatest conquest, whence mine surest victory beckons from across the mighty Avon with the force of the most thunderous thunder and the allure of the most buxom of buxom wenches, I first payeth respect to thy dearest people of X.
In return, I ask that thou payeth tithing to me. Your ruler! Your lord! Your one true king!
Tonight I shall extinguish the revolution of Syn with mine boot! And then I shall vanquish in mortal combat whomever dareth challenge mine rule after - be it the beast Nickles or that lady knight Aurora! For ‘tis mine destiny to achieve that which none before me ever hast. I shall enter tonight your king, and leave tonight your king. As sure as the sun rises, and mine member still works.
So come… enjoy the festival. Celebrate mine first year of rule with The King’s Tourney, and then watch in awe as I place the crown upon my head once more at the end of the night’s proceedings.
Ladies and gentlemen, bitches and gentlefucks… welcome to the Ides of March!
“LONG LIVE THE KING!” the crowd adds.
Trumpets sound as the crowd roars. A row of horses trots out into the arena, with colourful banners thrust high into the air. And a pig is there too…
Sir Lionel Pennyfarthing, riding a brilliant chestnut steed and clad in a regal purple waves a banner with yellow comedy masks atop the purple background.
Thunder Knuckles’s black horse sees chainmail draped across it with Mad Max-like spikes sticking up. His banner shows a skull and crossbones, but instead of the bones two baseball bats sit beneath the skull.
XWF Legend Centurion rides atop a palomino stallion draped in blue, and bearing his banner sigil of…
Tommy Wish’s grey horse is framed in green while he waves a banner with a microphone on it. Flecks of gold sparkle around the mic, and both he and his horse's robes.
Sir Nick Mélon sits on a massive beast whose coat is a red roan, and red similarly runs across his and the horse’s gear, and up to the banner of... a freaking watermelon.
Chad G.P.T.’s horse is entirely coated in metal. In fact… it might actually be completely robotic. On a black background, the X logo waves above him. Yes, that X. The one with the Nazis, and the porn bots, and the forced push notifications of its owner.
Y’all know whose horse and sigil y’all already know, so don’t worry about it.
And then there’s Hotdog, the most evil pig in the multiverse, who is completely naked while holding a banner in his mouth that has a still shot of Mason Verger being eaten alive by pigs in the movie Hannibal.
THE KING'S TOURNEY
Sir Lionel Pennyfarthing OBE
- vs -
Y’All Know Who
- vs -
Thunder Knuckles
- vs -
Centurion
- vs -
Tommy Wish
- vs -
Hotdog
- vs -
Sir Nick Mélon
- vs -
Chad G.P.T.
The competitors hand their banners off to some of the help mulling about, as their king lays out the rules for the contest:
King: Alright, bozos… this is how this thing’s going to work. There’s eight of you, which means the math should be good for even those of you aren’t humans to figure out. Four of you go on one side, four of you go to the other. Then, turn around, line up against someone else, point your lances at them, and charge. If you get knocked off your horse - you’re out. Kapeesh? I mean… errr… Doth that maketh sense to thoust manure-brained mongrels?
Ring the bell!… or whatever.”
It’s not a bell that is rung, but another trumpet sounding.
On that cue, each of the competitors - having followed their king’s orders to the tee - turns to face an opponent. And to another tremendous roar, the competitors charge!
Metal on metal rings out in quick succession as lances bounce off armour.
Centurion, Wish, Mélon, and Pennyfarthing each make it safely to the otherside. Meanwhile, Thunder Knuckles thrusts desperately at Hotdog who - without a rider - is just too low to the ground.
Suddenly, another ping of metal-on-metal is heard. But this one sounds different.
Someone successfully strikes at Chad G.P.T.’s metal ride and it begins to rattle.
It completely falls apart, sending it’s rider to the ground!
Who got him though?
Oh come on, Y’ALL ALREADY KNOW.
ELIMINATED: CHAD G.P.T.
Up in the stands, Viscount Elon of the House of Musk swears at his engineers.
Except… there are none.
Because he fired them before they could finish the job.
King: What a genius move by Elon Musk, firing his team to make sure they didn’t have to come here and get embarrassed by their rider’s shitty job.
Elon places his hand to his chest and the camera wisely cuts away before anything else can happen.
King: Hey… does anyone know if Chad G.P.T. is still the North Korean War Criminal? That might be relevant into if President Musk is here…
“Hey, KKK!”
The King sees Thunder Knuckles trying to get his attention.
King: Yes, my loyal Bastard?
TK: The pig’s on the ground too.
King: Did you knock him down, good sir, while I was distracted by a malfunctioning robo-horse, and Elon Musk, and maybe a North Korean War Criminal?
TK: Uh… sure. I did whatever you said I needed to do to win.
Hotdog is just standing there like he always was.
King: Ah yes, the pig’s feet are certainly on the ground and not on his horse.
…The horse he never had.
ELIMINATED: HOTDOG
With Thunder Knuckles having survived the first round, y’all also know who else did. That leaves the other four to go again.
The two knights - Sirs Lionel Pennyfarthing and Nick Mélon - deflect each others blows and both come out the other end again.
But Centurion scores a strong blow right into the middle of Tommy Wish’s chestplate.
Wish bounces from his horse and onto the ground!
ELIMINATED: TOMMY WISH
Only the battle between Pennyfarthing and Mélon remains in Round 1. They wind up and…
Deflect each others’ blows once more!
Both survive!
King: So this is going to be kind of boring if you guys keep doing that. One of you needs to murder the other person. But… there’s no reason the other side of the bracket can’t keep going ahead. Sir Bastard! Get back in there!
TK: Against who?
King: You already know who!
TK turns his black horse around, and Y’all Know Who else does the same. They charge!
And both get strong shots on one another. They barely hang on!
Pennyfarthing and Mélon deflect each other once more.
Centurion eats a hard candy.
TK and YKW collide again!
And both connect!
And both fall!
ELIMINATED: THUNDER KNUCKLES and YA–
Waitaminute!
Y’all Know Who is dangling from his horse, trapped in a stirrup!
He’s still in this thing!
The horse starts bucking and braying!
Until Hotdog - who is still lingering for some reason - shows it a video of horses being turned into dogfood.
The horse bolts, taking Y’all Know Who with it!
King: Uh… I guess fuck that guy?
ELIMINATED: Y’ALL KNOW WHO
That leaves three!
Pennyfarthing charges!
Mélon does too!
Both knights, evenly matched!
…And they deflect each other again.
King: What the fuck? Is this how boring jousting usually is? I was expecting blood, battery, excitement! Maybe a heart attack or two. Fuck it… Cent! Get your ass in there, three way bay-bay!
Centurion rallies his horse. He begins to circle around Pennyfarthing and Mélon. The two knights join in, and the three riders go round and round and round…
King: This isn’t equestrian! Don’t dance, fight!
Mélon makes the first move. Pulling his horse out of the routine, he darts across the bath between Pennyfarthing and Centurion. He stabs his lance down towards Centurion’s horse's ankle, but the wily veteran is a rich asshole so he knows how to rear a horse. He pulls his steed out of the way and the circle breaks completely.
As Mélon passes by, Pennyfarthing strikes with his own lance, but only catches air as the angle wasn’t quite right.
They all spin around.
Centurion is first on the draw, charging in with a blow that glances off Pennyfarthing’s shoulder. But the knight remains on his horse.
Mélon comes charging in and - with Pennyfarthing still distracted by Centurion’s attempt - connects with his back! Pennyfarthing falls forward, but stays draped over his horse!
The opportunity is there for Centurion!
He charges!
Pennyfarthing gives a desperate kick to his chestnut horse’s sides that propels him forward just in time to get out of the way.
But Mélon’s back!
And Centurion’s at an easier angle!
Mélon presses forward - lance pointed forwards…
Centurion deflects…
Just!
But his lance flings from his hand!
Centurion is still on the back of his horse, but no longer has a big pointy stick!
Pennyfarthing tries to recover while Mélon turns around. They both see the vulnerable legend and having been unsuccessful in splitting the difference between them when jousting one-on-one, they seem to create an unspoken deal to get rid of Cent so they can settle their duel once and for all!
Lances draw, they both kick their horses into full sprint, galloping towards Centurion!
Cent draws a deep breath.
And he pulls two swords out of sheaths hidden beneath his horse’s covers!
The metal blades catch the glint of the sun, and momentarily casts doubt in the minds of both Pennyfarthing and Mélon. It gives Cent just the opening he needs.
He strikes them both in the torso with his swords - swinging with all the power he can muster at their armoured bodies.
Mélon teeters.
Pennyfarthing falters.
Centurion thrusts his swords into the air in victory as both men lose balance and fall to the ground!
ELIMINATED: SIR LIONEL PENNYFARTHING OBE AND SIR NICK MÉLON
WINNER OF THE KING’S TOURNEY: CENTURION
The crowd applauds as the returning legend is victorious on a night celebrating history and legacy!
King Kieran rises to his feet and actually affords Centurion with a royal applause.
King: Congratulations, Lord Cortinovus. I have spent these past weeks claiming to be the last of a generation, but with you around… that no longer rings true. But that actually makes me happy. Because your victory is the best gift anybody could give me! A reminder that when looking to the future, one cannot forget the past! An omen… for Syn, for Nickles, for Aurora… of what is to come.
Thank you for your gift.
It’s time to return the favour.
The King looks across the battlefield, and further out across the river to where the theatre lies.
King: We go from one great tournament… to the greatest tournament performer in XWF history. It’s time!
…Hotdog!
He summons the wicked pig, who trots up to the base of the stage the throne is on.
King Kieran jumps on the pig’s back.
King: We ride for victory. LONG LIVE THE KING!
“LONG LIVE THE KING!” the crowd echoes.
And on Hotdog’s back, King Kieran sets off for the Royal Shakespeare Theater.
Inside the Royal Shakespeare Theatre, the opening frenzy of “The Gentle Art of Making Enemies” rips through the speakers as the crowd becomes unglued in a hurricane of mixed emotions.
Far too many fireworks to possibly be safe erupt within the small theatre, as riding atop the back of 2,000+ pounds of porkchops, comes King Kieran!
He stands on Hotdog’s back, balancing remarkably well and keeping the crown just as evenly positioned as the massive swine bolts down the ramp towards the ring.
Stopping just short of the ring, it makes for an easy dismount as the king leaps onto the apron and immediately runs up to the top turnbuckle thrusting his hands out and bathing in the strange confusion the crowd rains down on him - a concoction of adulation, frustration, and begrudging respect of history.
The smile on Kieran’s face couldn’t be wider as he leaps into the ring - the crown bouncing up but landing perfectly around his temple again, and he beckons for a microphone.
King: My loyal subjects… today history gets made! If you want royal festivities, head across the river right now to the fair in the park. But if you want to see the greatest victory of all time - stay right where you are seated. For tonight, I leave a mark on the XWF that will forever be branded into its foundations! And YOU. GET. TO. WITNESS. IT.
I AM GOING… BACK! TO! BACK!
And if it’s pageantry you’re after… if it’s a royal party you’re after… you come WITH ME, BACK to the fair after all this is said and done. When I am STILL YOUR KING!
By royal decree… let’s get this motherfucker under way.
BRING! ME! THE! NEXT! PEASANT!
The opening riff of The hangman's body count by Volbeat starts to play throughout the arena as the lights dim. Several red and purple laser lights envelope the stage as Matthias Syn casually walks through the curtain, proudly sporting the Revolution title on his shoulder!
JC: There he is! The XWF Revolution champion, Matthias Syn! He had to take down the current X-Treme champion, Atara Raven AND the charismatic newcomer Tropical Punch to punch his ticket to the semifinals!
BG: There’s a reason Matthias Syn has reigned as the undisputed Revolution champion for over 200 days, Jacko! It’s because he’s got the stuff! He’s not just a great athleter, he’s got the mental toughness to dismantle any opponent’s confidence! That’s why he’s my dark horse pick to go all the way!
JC: He certainly impressed on his road here… But, now, to make it to the semifinals… He has to beat the current reigning King of the XWF! But I can’t think of a single name more suited to depose a King than the Revolutionary Matthis Syn!
As he steps onto the stage, he stops and acknowledges the crowd by stretching both arms forward while touching his balled up fists together. After several seconds he begins to nonchalantly walk down the ramp towards the ring, not allowing the fans to touch him. He slides under the bottom rope, jumps to his feet and poses on the ropes.
As he drops down from the ropes he takes off his red leather shearling coat, hands it to the ring girl…
He sets his Revolution Title down in his corner, as he lifts himself onto the middle turnbuckle awaiting his opponent.
BG: Kieran King already, in the ring! Every molecule of Kieran King’s body is SURGING with natural wrestling aptitude! Kieran King might be, BAR NONE, the greatest wrestler of all-time… If he didn’t have those attitude issues!
JC: Kieran King came from nowhere to dominate the King of the XWF tournament last year, defeating names like Mark Flynn in the semifinal, AND Spencer Adams in the finals! After an INCREDIBLE match against Johnny Bacchus at Relentless, Kieran King dipped off the face of the wrestling world… And came back ONLY to keep anyone else from claiming they should be King instead of him!
BG: The thought here is so small-minded and petty, it almost comes all the way back around to being admirable.
JC: But the journey to reclaim his crown hasn’t been easy for Kieran King! He had to survive an absolute LEGEND of wrestling, Scoops McGee, in the first round! Then, he narrowly squeaked by ‘Dollface’ Sarah Wolf, who physically punished him before, between, and after the bell!
BG: He’s definitely fighting hurt, Jacko! And if he’s going to make it to the finals, he has to beat the most sadistic, misanthropic competitor in XWF history, Matthias Syn!
JC: Syn and King are two of the most ruthlessly competitive personalities in the XWF< Brody! This one is sure to be an absolute bloodbath!
BG: I’ll tell you what’ll be a bloodbath, if that official tries to touch Kieran King’s crown!
…Indeed! The official approaches King to take his crown, so it can be handed off to the timekeeper.
King looks at the official’s peasant hands, disgusted, lecturing the official on greasy fingerprints touching his crown…
Finally, he glances across the ring as Syn… seeing the Revolution Title on the mat in the corner, King does the same with his crown, ordering the official not to touch it under any circumstance, before moving toward the center of the ring…
JC: Both men leaving their prizes in their corners… Both these men are very accomplished, but only one is advancing to the finals of the King of the XWF tournament!
The arena crackled with anticipation as Matthias Syn and Kieran King stood across from each other, the tension thick between them. Both men wore their arrogance like armor, smirking, eyes locked, neither backing down.
Syn’s lips curled into a smug grin as he tilted his head, bouncing lightly on his feet, oozing cockiness. He starts barking across the ring at his opponent… neither man is wielding a microphone, but the camera faintly picks up the words ‘drug addict’ and ‘irrelevant’
King responded with a slow, exaggerated chuckle, shaking his head as if he thought Syn’s comments were adorably quaint. His eyes, sharp and calculating, flickered over Syn like a predator measuring its prey. He proceeds to jaw back at Syn… Again, it’s difficult to make out… but the words ‘bedshitter’and ‘pathetic’ are faintly audible.
JC: Wow, I think this is probably the only time in either of these men’s careers where there’s a *chance they’re not the most arrogant guy in the ring.
BG: This is part of the dance, Jacko! These two men are masters of the mental game! If you can beat your opponent before the bell starts, why not?
King and Syn both play the dozens, barking insults at each other, as the official desperately tries to get through covering the rules with both men.
JC: These two much more preoccupied with each other than the official!
The referee exhales impatiently before giving up and signal to the timekeeper.
DING! DING!
Matthias Syn
- vs -
King Kieran
JC: Alright, here w-
The moment the bell rings, Syn reels his head back…
And spat directly in Kieran’s face.
JC: Oh my!
The crowd oooooohs!
JC: Wow! Zero respect for the reigning King of the DWF from Matthias Syn!
BG: And for the first time, maybe in his entire career, Kieran King is speechless.
Indeed, King has stopped jaw-jacking… His head tilted down as his tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek, processing his opponent’s choice.
After a moment, King wiped Syn’s spit away with the back of his hand. He didn’t get angry, he didn’t smile cockily… He just stood there, eerily still.
Syn’s grin widened. He spread his arms wide, practically inviting Kieran’s rage. His jaw keeps moving up-and-down, continuing to taunt Kieran King!
BG: If this is a battle of who talks more, Syn is running the score up on Kieran King!
JC: Thank goodness this is a WRESTLING MATCH!
And then, all of a sudden…
King grinned back!
And sped forward!
Syn, busy screaming obscenities and insults at King, finds himself caught off-guard as King tears off a…
SHOTGUN DROPKICK!
THWACK! BIG CONNECTION!
Syn’s body lurched backward like a ragdoll, sprawling ass over tea-kettle, as he scrambles back to his feet near the turnbuckle… Standing over his own Revolution Title…
Syn keeps himself upright by gripping the top rope, looking to recover…
But King doesn’t let up! Before Syn could even assess where his opponent is, King’s airborne—Whisper in the Wind! His body weaves through the air like an assassin’s arrow!
As his boot connects with Matthias Syn’s skull!
Syn goes up-and-over the top rope! One leg lands on the apron, as he rolls off to the outside of the ring!
JC: Wow!
BG: Absolutely beautiful maneuver by the reigning King of the XWF! Looking like something out of the Russian ballet!
Syn smacks the padded concrete, angrily, as he works his way back to his feet… He rubs his head, trying to shake the cobwebs from that aerodynamic strike from Kieran King!
Meanwhile, King transitions from lying in the corner, to rolling backwards to the center of the ring… to lounging on his side, looking very regal, like someone should be hand-feeding him grapes.
JC: Kieran King is one of the most talented men in wrestling… And he’s using those abilities to embarrass Matthis Syn in the early-going! Trying to make it clear Syn shouldn’t be working RING CREW in a Kieran King match, let alone be his opponent!
Syn snorted angrily, as he rolls back into the ring!
King smirks, lazily rolling backwards onto his feet, dukes up as Syn moves to charge him!
Syn launches into an acrobatic attack of his own, launching a spinning heel kick!
King deftly sidesteps it! Syn lands on his feet, and launches himself toward K-
BUZZSAW KICK! King almost takes Syn head off with his educated feet!
BG: Jee HOSEPHAT!
JC: I don’t remember seeing that at the Russian ballet, Brody! But it did look dis-GUSTING and effective!
The crowd is going absolutely nuts now for the reigning King of the XWF! Syn back-pedals, looking like that kick knocked his noggin into neurological failure!
JC: Syn getting simply outlcassed here by King in the early going! If he wants a prayer at reaching the finals, he’s gotta find a way to take the pace out of Kieran King’s control!
Syn’s arms drape over the top rope, his fingers twitching slightly as his brain tries to reboot itself, before collapsing onto the mat.
King exhaled through his nose, running his hand across his jaw, unimpressed. He crouched slightly over Syn’s fallen body. He prods Syn with his boot, like a kid poking a dead body he found with a stick…
King crouches over Syn’s fallen form… As the camera pulls in for a close-up, the camera can faintly pick up King asking the back of Syn’s head if he had any more comments or feedback he’d like to share?
Suddenly, King reached down, grabbing Syn by the wrist and yanking him up to his fee…
Only to deftly hurtle him through the air! Monkey Flip!
Syn’s body arched through the air before he smacked against the canvas, his breath rushing from his lungs in a ragged cough.
JC: King, perhaps getting a bit too cute here! He has Syn where he wants him, but his goal at this point seems more about humiliating Syn than beating him in the ring!
Syn impatiently slams his fists on the mat, furious at this indignity of King mocking him through the combat sport Syn has dedicated his life to…
King casually rolls his neck. He stretches his arm lazily across his chest, as if the whole thing was just a warm-up for King’s final. He turned his back on Syn, stepping toward the ropes.
In a flash, King sprints toward the ropes opposite Syn!
He leaps to the second, and flips!
Lionsault crossbo-
…No!
Syn, acting on equal parts desperation and fury, launches a desperation kick at the mid-air Kieran King!
It clips King’s foot, sending King’s rotation spiraling!
King’s body twisted awkwardly, like a cat in zero gravity, his body desperately contorting to reconnect with terra firma!
Amazingly, King lands on his f-...NO!
His ankle twists under him! His face is suddenly overcome with pain and irritation as his left leg buckles under him, sending him sprawling to the mat!
JC: Oh my God! Ooooooooh, Kieran King’s ankle just twisted… VERY unnaturally!
BG: You hate to see it, Jacko! Though, maybe if Kieran hadn’t been leaping and prancing about, Syn wouldn’t knocked him outta the air like a fly swatter hitting a skeeter!
King cradles his leg, sitting on the mat! The official rapidly approaches him, asking if he can cont-
WHAM! Syn shoves the official out of the way!
The crowd boos as Syn drags King’s ankle out of his grip… And then DROPS an elbow straight onto King’s maimed limb!
King let out a sharp exhale, as his whole body seizes in agony!
JC: Oh… Oh God! Syn taking this opening and using it to try and BREAK Kieran King’s very body! Disgusting!
BG: I think you mean ‘good strategy’, Jacko! How the Hell’s King gonna beat anybody when his ankle’s made of powder!?!
The official gets himself back off the mat, barking at Syn not to touch him!
Syn doesn’t care… Syn grins like a madman, as he feels exactly what King accused him of wanting all along… control.
Syn latches his claws around King’s ankle as King lays prone on the ground, and, twiiiiiiiiists at a a sadistic, unnatural angle. King’s hands pat the mat, he contorts his body trying to minimize the pressure Syn is placing on his twisted ankle…
Syn cackles over his opponent’s head, as he delivers insult and injury at the same time!
JC: Oh God! Brody, this isn’t about winning the match any more! Matthias Syn is out here trying to end Kieran King’s career!
BG: And, if he does? He’ll most likely win the match! Think before you speak, Jacko!
As Syn applies greater and greater pressure to King’s leg… King manages to crawl hand-over-hand, twisting himself over!
He reels back his uninjured leg…
MULE KICK FROM THE M-
…No! Before King can kick his way free, Syn lifts his injured leg hiiiiiiiigh above Syn’s head…
Before SLAMMING IT ONTO THE MAT!
JC: Oooooof! Another devastating attack to King’s injured leg by the Syn City Saint!
The crowd oooooohs sympathetically, as King’s hands moves to cradle his wounded ankle…
King, like a wounded animal, tries to pulls himself under the bottom rope for repr-
…Nope! Syn grabs King by the leg again and pulls him back toward the center of the ring!
JC: Oh, c’mon! Enough is enough!
BG: Jack, you know as well as I do how dangerous Kieran King is! Giving him a chance to recover is dangerous for any competitor! Syn’s just making great strategic choices!
JC: He’s trying to make it so King can never walk again is what he’s doing!
The crowd vocalizes their intense displeasure, as Syn hovers over the prone King…
Syn places one hand to his ear, as if trying to make out the crowd’s noise…
Before grinning, lifting his leg…
And STOMPING on King’s ankle!
Again!
AGAIN!
JC: Oh God, I think I’m gonna be sick!
The official orders Syn to release King or he’ll be disqualified… Syn cackles before tossing his ankle away and backing into the corner to lounge…
The official knelt down to King, asking if he wants to forfeit.
This makes Syn double-over laughing in the corner, as he dares King to give up his crown.
JC: Matthias Syn, absolutely giddy at the idea of Kieran King forfeiting. Having to say the words “Matthias Syn beat me!” You can say see Syn wants that more than anything right now!
King pushes his away onto the knee of his right leg, the uninjured one, as he tells the official… something unairable. But most certainly in the negative! He wants to continue!
The official tries to confirm King’s choi-
WHAM! Once more, Syn shoves the official aside, as he grabs King’s ankle… And STOMPS on it again!
Again King’s hands immediately shot down to clutch the damaged joint, his hands squeezing as if trying to hold his mangled limb together…
This only tickles the sadistic Syn’s funny bone harder as he walks around the ring, squeezing his own ankle, mocking King’s reflex.
JC: And how is THAT ‘good strategy’, Brody? Syn is just out here mocking King’s injury!
BG: Morale is 50% of any sport! And Syn is trying to break King’s spirit AND body!
Kieran’s teeth ground together. His jaw clenched so tightly his temples ached, the fury building inside of him as Syn makes a public spectacle of his maiming.
King, again, through sheer force of will, tries to shove himself back upright…
Syn takes this opportunity, to kick King’s arm out from under him… As he collapses face-first back to the mat!
JC: Please! God, someone stop this! I don’t wanna see any more of this!
BG: Hey! Kieran King said he wanted to continue! What else is Matthias Syn supposed to do?
As King lies facedown on the mat, stewing furiously, Syn unleashes a tirade of taunts and insults, calling King every name under the sun.
King’s head stays on the mat this time…
Which prompts Syn to grab King’s hair, yanking his skull off the mat, to make sure King isn’t ignoring him.
And that’s when Kieran strikes!
His arms hooked around Syn’s torso, using every ounce of his strength…
HIP TOSS!
JC: What a counter! King pulling a counter out of nowhere to fight back into this match!
Syn flies through the air, before collapsing on his back with a stunned grunt! His body bounces off the mat!
King tries to spring back into action as Syn recoils… Climbing back upri-...
Nope! King’s knee gives out, as he drops back to one leg!
BG: Ohhhh, what a shame! Again, turns out maiming your opponent’s leg is a sound strategy, huh, Jacko?
Syn shoves back off the ropes, charging at his opponent! King tries to force his way back onto his fe-
WHAM! Side-kick to King’s left knee!
DIRECT HIT! King collapses onto his side, cradling his leg once more!
JC:Oh, c’mon! He’s already slowed down!
BG: And yet, Syn can make him even slower!
JC: Syn’s trying to cripple King permanently!
BG: Which would make him even slower! Yes, Jacko!
King hit the mat hard, gritting his teeth as he clutched his injured ankle, his frustration mounting.
…Syn, red-in-the-face that King was still fighting, stood over King, grabbing his arm and pulling it upwards…
ANOTHER STOMP! This one straight down onto King’s elbow!
JC: …Ohhhhhhhhh, that makes me queasy!
BG: Maybe you should commentate embroidery contest, Jacko! This shit? THIS is wrestling!
King’s right arm now reflexively goes to cradle his left, as searing pain shoots all the way up and down his arm…
Syn, like a thief, wrests his hands around King’s left arm, and jerks it out of King’s grip! He lays it flat on the mat…
Another stomp to the elbow! Another!
As Syn stomps King’s elbow King’s fingers twitched involuntarily! His muscles lock up!
JC: Oh God! Is that what an arm does when stomped like that? Ohhh, that’s the worst!
BG: Bad to look at, great to wrestle against! Another solid move by Matthias Syn, working this match into his control!
The official barks at Syn to knock it off… Though, Syn laughs in the official’s face, as there’s nothing the official can do to stop him for beating down his opponent in a sanctioned wrestling match.
Syn leaned over King, muttering more insults in his opponent’s ear… before grabbing his wrist and twisting the arm!
Arm bar! An immediate jolt of white-hot pain sears through King’s shoulder socket!
JC: Syn locking a submission hold… Perhaps seeking to end this!
King’s entire face wracks with agony, as Syn neatly transitions into a mount!
SYNTheory! Syn locks his arm triangle choke dead-center of the ring!
JC: And there it is, folks! Matthias Syn’s SYNTheory, arm triangle choke! He’s got locked in like a vise on Kieran King, dead center of the ring!
King’s face contorted, his free hand instinctively gripping at Syn’s leg, his body writhing beneath him as Syn wrenched his grip, applying more and more torque to the already injured arm.
The referee dropped down beside them. "Kieran, do you want to quit?!"
Syn, his face directly above King’s, laughs in his face… Wanting to lock into King’s memory this moment where he lost his crown to Matthias Syn…
JC: Kieran King clearly wants with every fiber of his being to beat Matthias Syn!
BG: But it’s not just about one’s being! It’s also about one’s body! And Syn has successfully broken Kieran King’s body into meat and putty!
Kieran’s breathing was ragged, sweat dripping from his forehead onto the mat below… He was trapped dead-center of the ring, far from the ropes…
JC: Kieran King’s gotta do something if he wants to survive here!
BG: Please! He’s completely trapped! What the Hell’s he gonna d-
THWIP!
With a sudden jerk of his head, he spat directly into Matthias Syn’s face.
Syn froze… HIs barrage of insults halted by psittle
The crowd exploded at the King’s defiance in the face of his torturer…
King’s face breaks into a defiant smirk. His breath was labored, but the rebellion in his eyes burned bright.
Syn checked his check to see if that really happened…
Upon confirmation, Syn’s entire face twitched with fury. His jaw clenched so tightly it visibly flexed beneath his skin.
JC: …A little tit-for-tat here! After Syn spat on King in the opening seconds of the match, King spits right back in Syn’s face for telling King to submit!
BG: …Sure, but as long as Syn holds the submission, this one’s o-
Without warning, Syn released the triangle arm choke he had on King…
Lifted his boot!
And STOMPED down directly onto King’s eye socket.
JC: OH FUCK!
BG: …Eh, also works, I suppose!
The crowd, just moments ago, screaming for King, is struck silent by the stomach-turning assault!
King’s head snapped to the side, his entire body jerking violently as a blinding explosion of pain erupted through his skull. His vision instantly blurred, black spots dancing in his field of view…
Syn stomped again!
Again!
JC: Oh God… Ugh… Uh, Kieran King’s face is turning into a crimson mask out there with Syn attacking his orbital bone!
BG: Kinda like a Two-Face situation out there!
A searing, skull-rattling pain pulsed through his eye socket, his head spinning. King’s right hand rushes, as if trying to hold his skull together… as blood runs down his right eye socket…
Syn stood over him, breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling with exhilaration.
…His cocky, sadistic smile returns, as he circles the ring, berating the audience for thinking any other result might occur.
Adrenaline rushes through Syn’s body as the crowd hurls death threats and anger at him…
He reaches down to the maimed King, and hooks his arms
[white]JC: This might be it, Brody! SYNThesis!
Matthias locks in the reverse facelock…
He swin-
…No! Like a rat’s body reflexively slipping out of a closing trap, King desperately slips out of Syn’s grip!
Syn’s eyes widen as his hands surge forward to grapple King from beh-
King backflips!
And catches Syn in the face with a boot!
PICTURE-PERFECT PELE KICK!
Syn’s head reels back like he just took a blunt object to the skull! He rolls onto his shoulders, as he lies on the mat, counting stars!
King collapses the moment his left foot hits the mat… His body reflexively goes to cradle so many parts at this point, he ends up looking like he’s seizing on the ground…
Eventually, his right hand settles on his face, as blood seeps out of his right eye socket.
JC: Incredible! Kieran King finds a way to survive through sheer force of will!
BG: Hey! Syn just got kicked in the face and he’s still staying in this! Talk about his will! He’s been fighting through doing TERRIBLE things to King’s limbs and face! That can do a lot of psychological harm to a person!
As both competitors lay different states of physical injury…
The referee begins the ten-count!
ONE!
The crowd roared, the entire arena on its feet.
TWO!
Both men stirred, their bodies barely responding.
THREE!
The match hung in the balance.
FOUR!
Both men stirred.
FIVE!
Kieran King’s fingers twitched against the mat. His breathing was ragged, his body barely responding. His ankle throbbed with every heartbeat, his arm felt like it was full of broken glass… his eye burned like it had been set on fire…
Across from him, Matthias clutched his aching head, his limbs sluggish… His cocky smirk was gone, as he tried to re-find his footing…
SIX!
Kieran pressed his palms against the mat, ignoring every biological instinct his body was sending his brain to stay the fuck down!
SEVEN!
Syn, in one sudden motion, propels himself to the side of the ring… gripping the middle rope weakly. He shook his head; hearing the number ‘seven’, he knew if he didn’t get up now, his road to victory would end here…
He was winning this.
And he was going to do it by beating Kieran King.
EIGHT!
Kieran clenched his jaw, as his fist slammed against the mat. He wasn’t fucking done being King. His reign wasn’t ending.
Not like this. Not to him. Not to Matthias Syn.
He forced his knee under him, his leg screaming in pain.
NINE!
Both men…
….
…..
BEAT THE TEN COUNT!
The arena exploded!
JC: Oh, Thank God! Could you imagine if these competitors both got counted out?!? How awful would that be?
BG: I bet Aurora and/or Nickles would love it! Would be the easiest way to get the crown! By default!
Kieran wiped his forearm across his face, wiping as much eye blood from the right side of his face as possible.
Syn exhaustedly leans against the ropes, cranking his neck, rolling his shoulders, a wild look in his eye, as hist body recovers from King’s desperation pele kick!
Simultaneously, both competitors make the same decision…
Strike now!
They both charge forward!
A right hand from King across Syn’s forehead!
A stiff forearm from Syn straight to King’s jaw!
King stumbled but fired back with a knife-edged chop, the sound echoing through the arena.
WOOOOOO!
Syn winced—but responded with a sickening elbow straight to King’s wounded eye!
King groaned, his hand instinctively shooting up to the injury… he back-pedals toward the ropes…
Syn grins, thinking King’s last charge is outta steam…
…But, King shoves off the ropes! Launching into a barrage of strikes!
Punch! Kick! Spinning Backfist! Leaping Forearm! Each connects straight on with Syn’s face!
JC: An incredible mixed martial arts combination of strikes from Kieran King! Syn was caught off-guard and he’s taking every one of these blow’s straight on!
Syn staggered back, rocked by King’s improvised muay thai combo!
Just like King, Syn attempted to rebound off the ropes, retaliating with a short-arm clothesline!
…But King ducks!
Syn, in close quarters now, tries to transition into a grapple…
But King explodes with a leaping enzuigiri, clipping the back of Syn’s skull!
Syn collapsed onto one knee, looking rocked…
King ran… er, limped the ropes as best as he could, building some momentum.
Syn woozily rises to his fee-
WHAM! Another Kieran King shotgun dropkick, rocks Syn into King’s corner!
Syn’s back collapses into the turnbuckle, before he flops down to the mat… next to Kieran King’s crown!
JC: Syn is cornered! And Kieran, despite being wounded, is finally getting back into the driver’s seat here!
The official, already impatient with Syn, barks at him to get out of the ropes, starting a five-count…
Syn shakes off cobwebs, rushing back to a vertical base, eyes wild as he feels this match possibly slipping away…
Kieran, exhaustedly clinging to the ropes… Shoves off them again! Headed downhill, straight for Matthias Syn!
JC: A freight train called Kieran King is headed down the tracks and Matthias Syn is about to get RUN OVER!
King leaps through the air, looking for another Whisper-in-the-Wind!
BUT SYN YANKED THE OFFICIAL IN FRONT OF HIM!
JC: Ouch! That official’s gonna need an icepack after that boot to the skull!
King’s boot blasted the referee square in the jaw, sending the official crashing to the mat in a heap!
King scrambles off the mat, knowing his boot just connected with somebody…
But, he only sees the fallen official when…
WHAM! Syn delivers a low blow, straight to the King’s Jewels!
JC: Another underhanded tactic from Syn!
BG: You say underhanded, I say successful! Syn has been dominant all match and you’re just jealous he’s going to be King and you’re going to remain a peasant, Jackie baby!
King covers his Royal Heirlooms, as he drops to his knees in agony!
The crowd hurls all the vitriol they can… As Syn stutter-steps back exhaustedly to the corner…
Clink…
He looks down.
And sees…
Kieran King’s crown!
JC: Oh no!
BG: Oh my God, the irony… Ending King’s reign with his own crown! It’s delicious! Shakespeare couldn’t write a better ending!
…The desperation in Syn’s face.
Turns to one of sadistic glee.
The crowd screams with their displeasure… Which only drives Syn to further antagonize them… With a mocking bow, Syn presents the crowd the crown… giving the English audience an exaggerated, regal wave.
…King slowly shoves his way up to a vertical base…
Syn hovers over King… He takes off the crown, wielding it like a weapon!
JC: Look out, King!
Syn stalks Kieran from behind…
King slowly turns around…
THE SYN CITY SAINT SWINGS FOR THE FENCES!
…
But King rolls under the strike!
Syn spins around still holding the cr-
WHAM! King catches Syn with a boot to the gut!
JC: …Phew, close call for Kieran King, but running on instinct and reflex, he dodges Syn’s crown strike!
The wind knocked out of Syn’s sails… Syn drops the crown in the center of the ring, stutter-stepping back into the corner!
…
The crowd gets on the feet as King charges for the killshot!
He aims a scissor kick for Syn’s skull!
…But Syn ducks! King gets his leg hung on the ropes!
JC: Unlucky break for King! He’s tangled, but he’s quickly freeing himself…
BG: But Matthias Syn can take this opening and… Retreat from his opponent?
Syn rolls forward away from King in the corner…
…
And grabbing the crown!
King yanks his leg free, spinning back ar-
WHAM!
SYN DISCUS-STRIKES KING’S ALREADY DAMAGED EYE WITH HIS OWN CROWN!
JC: Oh my God! That strike was SICKENING!
BG: Kieran King’s head just got deposed from his body!
The metallic crack echoed sickeningly as Kieran’s head snapped back, his body crumpling to the mat in an instant.
Syn collapsed over him, hooking the leg…
…
……
But there’s no official!
BG: I’m keeping track in my head, we’re up to a six count… seven… eight…
JC: Meaningless, Brody! Without an official counting the pin, there’s n-
Finally, by the side of the ring, the official crawls his way from the side of the ring over to the pin!
Syn shrieks at him to count, as he clings onto the pin for dear life!
BG: Finally, someone doing their job around here! Here comes the three-count!
JC: No! Not like this! Please![/white]
The official counts!
ONE!
The arena held its breath.
TWO!
The count felt inevitable.
THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
…
……
………
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
KIERAN!
KING!
KICKS!
OUT!
WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
The entire crowd explodes to their feet!
JC: In-CREDIBLE! Any other competitor would have been down for the count after that one… But Kieran King refuses to lose!
BG: …I think he won’t have a choice in a little bit, Jacko! His whole fucking head is leaking onto the mat! For Matthias Syn, it’s just a matter of time now!
Syn sat up, his expression shifting from smug confidence to pure, unfiltered frustration. He slammed his fists against the mat, shaking his head in disbelief. Syn leans over King’s broken skull and scream at him to stay down, in much less TV-friendly language…
Syn grabs King by the back of the head…
JC: This could be it, Brody! SYNThesis incoming!
Syn hooked King’s arms, preparing to hit the SYNTHESIS—
…Syn swings!
…
NO! King slips out again!
Kieran twists his way out of Syn’s grip!
Syn tries to grapple King from behind, but King grabs backwards at Syn from the front!
BG: The hell is King doing here, Jacko!
JC: We haven’t seen him do this in years! Could King make this match his… Crowning Achievement! (Asai DDT)
The official circles around, trying to keep track of all these counters…
King clings onto Syn’s head, readying himself to launch his body up and over Syn…
BUT SYN SHOVED HIM BACK—STRAIGHT INTO THE REFEREE AGAIN!
BG: Someone get that poor zebra a helmet!
The poor exhausted official is propelled through the air, landing on the side of the ring once again…
King spun around—ANOTHER KICK TO THE BALLS FROM MATTHIAS SYN!
The arena groaned in sympathy as King collapsed onto his knees, his face twisted in sheer agony.
…Syn, breathing heavily… Walks away from his opponent…
And scoops King’s crown off the ground…
JC: Oh God, not again!
BG: There’s no official! Anything goes! That includes touching AND using the crown as a weapon!
This time, Syn didn’t just admire it.
He lifted it above his head.
And donned it.
BG: There he is! King Syn! Imagine it, Jacko!
JC: I think I actually AM about to be sick…
Much to the crowd’s displeasure… His face almost turns beet red with glee as the crowd vocalizes their disapproval…
Finally, Syn takes it off, reeling back as King slowly rises to his feet.
JC: Oh God, please! Please don’t let this happen!
BG: Oh c’mon, Jacko! When King Syn holds his coronation party, I’ll see if I can snag a second bag of party favors!
…
BG: For me!
King, barely moving, slowly pushed himself up. His body trembled. His head hung low.
Syn grinned, lining up the final shot.
He reel back…
…
WHEN ALL OF A SUDDEN, THE LIGHTS GO OUT!
…
From nowhere and yet everywhere at once, Judy Garland sings lowly and slowly, distorted and odd. As if it’s being layered over itself and several other versions, both faster and slower speeds with deeper and higher pitches.
Judy Garland ends, and the lights come back on.
…
BG: What in the FUCK was that?
Syn’s face was wracked with confusion. His grip on the crown tightened as he looked around, his entire body tensed—
KING SPRANG INTO ACTION.
Before Syn could react—F UR HEAD (BRAINBUSTER)!!!
Syn’s skull spiked into the mat, his body going completely limp.
King scrambled over him, barely able to drape an arm across Syn’s chest.
The referee, still dazed, crawled over and counted—
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
WINNER AND ADVANCING TO THE FINAL: KING KIERAN
The bell rang wildly as the arena erupted in chaos!
King lay motionless, his body spent, his eye swollen nearly shut, his ankle throbbing, his shoulder burning—but he had won.
Syn remained completely lifeless beside him, his dream of humiliating Kieran King shattered in an instant.
BG: …*ahem*, like I said throughout the match, Kieran King was always my pick to take this one! And he’s advancing to the finals!
JC: …Well, the ending is marred with controversy but these two men went to WAR tonight!
And it’s not over for Kieran King! His reward is having to compete later! With one arm! One leg! And half of a face!
But, if anybody can win under those conditions? It might just be Kieran King!
JC: Folks, during the commercial break, we saw something happen, we're cutting to it now!
Syn sits in the ring, arguing with the official and chewing out the crowd after his match...
When suddenly...
The lights abruptly cut out & fans hold their cell phone lights in the air trying to figure out what’s happening.
When the lights come back on, a man is standing in the ring in denim and a black muscle shirt. He is wearing a mask with a bloody maple leaf on it. He is holding the Revolution Championship over his head. The crowd begins to boo loudly.
BAMA- That can only be one man!!!
TODD- The maple leaf is a dead give away!! DONT TURN AROUND SYN!!
Syn turns around to the sight of Justin York holding his title above his head before JY swings it crashing it over his head, laying him out in the middle of the ring.
York pulls the mask off and smirks at the crowd whilst holding the title over the champion before flipping the bird to them and then pointing it down to Syn and utters the words “Paybacks a bitch!”
York lays the Revolution Title across Syn’s face and then rolls out of the ring.
TODD- The number one contender just left the Revolution Champion laid out in the middle of the ring with his own title.
BAMA- What goes around comes around.
A great impression of James Hetfield's opening vocals of Metallica's "The Memory Remains" blares from the live band. A minimal yet vocal minority of the fans in attendance shout the first lyrics aloud along with the singer:
Fortune, Fame, Mirror, Vain
Gone Insane
But the Memory Remains
A banner is released over the tournament grounds reading.
. : A U R O R A : .
The guitar and drums come crashing in, along with the rest of the instrumental section. Soon after a mako green spotlight shines down upon the stage where Aurora herself is now standing. She’s wearing a mask that covers her face in what looks like old, pitted cast iron. Her hands and wrists are taped in all black tape and her silver-colored hair is pulled back into a ponytail. A smoke machine billows from beneath her, partially obscuring the view.
”Bard” Bertram Bishoptree: Prithee, let it be known, as she doth approach this bloodied battlefield, from the fair lands of Arizona Bay, she cometh! Hark, good people, and bare thy witness to thine challenger—AURORA!!
Aurora walks through the smoke as cannonfire sounds off walking around the fencing to the roaring crowd. Bombs are thrown close by that let off plumes of colored smoke that drift into the air, dispersing into a light show mimicking the Northern Lights as she steps onto the fence wall for the onlookers before staring up at the sky and the setting sun.
Television Champion Charlie Nickles comes out looking deranged with a shovel over his shoulder.
”Bard” Bertram Bishoptree: "Lo! Making his grand entrance unto the hallowed grounds, with a weight most mighty of two hundred and sixty-five pounds, and standing at a lofty six feet and three inches, hailing from the humble hamlet of Steubenville, Ohio. He, the reigning and defending Champion of the Television, whose might doth bury all challengers—behold, THE FAMILY MAN! CHARLIE NICKLES!!!"
Charlie sticks his shovel into the dirt and lofts the championship up high to some cheers but others throw rotten tomatoes at the champion who narrowly dodges the hits and begins mouthing off at the crowd.
”Bard” Bertram Bishoptree is joined by ye olde official Ælfheah Wickhame who takes the Television Championship from Nickles and places it on a red pillow for all to behold, seating where Kieran King overlooked the jousting tournament. As Ælfheah attends to that, Bertram addresses the crowd whilst gesturing to a nearby grave and large structure made of rope and wood with various pulleys hosting a large stone.
”Bard” Bertram Bishoptree: "Hark, fair ladies and noble gentlemen, heed the call! By most earnest request, this contest shall henceforth unfold under the direst of conditions—BURIED ALIVE ru-els! Within the span of but fifteen fleeting minutes, the victor must, with great travail, cast their adversary into a grave most foul and seal it with a boulder of considerable weight. And lo! The one who doth remain above the earth shall claim the coveted Television Championship, and thus, by fate's design, shall advance to face the most holy King Kieran, whereupon they shall grasp for the crown and the glory that doth await!"
Aurora stretches at one of the posts as Charlie slaps his face and wrings his hands.
”Bard” Bertram Bishoptree: “The battle doth commence! Challengers! Make haste!”
Both competitors charge at one another down the length of the jousting arena to cheers of the crowd; as they meet in the center an overhand punch is thrown by each of them and both hits land at the same time, clocking one another in the jaw!
Both separate briefly, almost mirroring movements, before Aurora steps in with a spinning heel kick! But it's dodged by Nickels who digs his claws into Aurora’s calf and pulls her leg out from under her before falling down looking for an elbow to the face but Aurora rolls away in the nick of time and sends her boot into Nickles side who is forced against the wooden barrier in the center of the arena.
Aurora performs a starfish kip-up and rolls into a beautiful Pele kick cracking the back of Charlie’s head who snaps back like a rubber band stumbling as Aurora leaps onto the barrier and springboards off looking for a leg lariat but Nickles counters!
Plucking Aurora from mid-air and dropping her with a hefty bodyslam!
Charlie mounts up on the ground and throws a right hook into Aurora’s temple but the follow-up jab is dodged and Nickles hand crashes into the dirt! Aurora throws up her knees and sends Nickles forward before she latches onto his neck into a front headlock and throws herself back, almost monkey flipping Charlie over her.
Nickles splashes into the dirt and kicks up dust on landing as Aurora scrambles to her feet.
Charlie sits up as Aurora sprints towards him and jumps into a shining wizard aiming at the back of Charlie’s skull but Nickles telegraphs it! Spinning around and hurling dirt and hay into Aurora’s eyes mid-flight and she tumbles down into the earth. Charlie takes moment before standing to his feet and searches the grounds.
”Bard” Bertram Bishoptree: “"Verily, it doth appear that our noble competitors are matched in strength and skill, each as resolute as the other! Yet, for how long shall this balance endure? Forsooth, in but a single moment, the tides of this contest could turn, swift as a tempest’s fury!"
Nickles reaches the shovel he carried with him earlier and rips it from the soil, making his way back to Aurora who clears the dirt from her eyes and stands to meet Charlie once again. With a wide swing, Charlie sweeps with the shovel and Aurora barely gets out of harm’s way! Nickles twirls the handle and steps in with another sweeping strike forcing Aurora back before wielding the shovel overhead and slamming it down with force!
The flat head hits the ground at Aurora’s feet as she retreats back, searching for a solid opening before she clocks on to Charlie’s plan.
Mere feet away from the grave, Aurora looks back briefly but Nickles only needs a second!
CRACK!!!
The shovel crashes into Aurora’s bicep and she lets out a howl of pain as Charlie reels back for another strike but Aurora rushes in, holding her arm, and slides along the ground as Nickles throws the shovel down, the tip of the shovel slicing down taking only a few strands of Aurora’s hair.
Aurora stops herself behind Charlie and spins around on the ground and sweeps his legs with a calf kick! The Champ timbers and lands in the dirt, Aurora steps back up and grabs the shovel with one hand and immediately twirls it into a strike onto a prone Charlie clipping his heel as he rushes to his feet!
Nickles hisses in pain as his limps up to his feet and turns around barely missing a swipe from Aurora who carries her momentum into a roundhouse which glances Nickles chin and is forced stumbling back!
Aurora throws the shovel into Charlie who catches it out of instinct, the head placed firmly in front of his face!
WHACK!!!
”Bard” Bertram Bishoptree:"AURORA BEAM!”
Aurora with a perfect spinning heel hits the metal into Charlie’s face!
”Bard” Bertram Bishoptree: “And lo, Nickles doth fall to the ground! But can the valiant Aurora bear the heavy weight of her foe, and cast him into the open grave?"
10:20
10:19
10:18
Aurora takes a well-deserved breather before she rolls her shoulder with a grunt of pain and grabs the shovel a final time before hurling it into the open grave.
Nickles tries to push himself up, blood mixed with drool pouring from his open mouth, but his arms buckle under his weight. Aurora gets to Charlie’s head and grabs a handful of hair, pulling back and looking into Charlie’s glassy eyes. Nickles smiles before spitting a glob of red spit onto Aurora’s cheek.
Aurora flinches before sneering and busting Charlie open even more with a stiff forearm and drops him face-first into the ground. Aurora grabs Charlie’s wrist and with all her might begins pulling him closer and closer to the grave.
”Bard” Bertram Bishoptree: "Aurora doth pull our champion ever nearer to his doom, each step drawing him closer to his most fateful end! Is this, perchance, the final hour of his reign?"
So close to the end goal; Charlie digs his feet into the soil and lunges upwards and tackles Aurora! Charlie claws and throws wild strikes taking Aurora down before biting down on her neck and pulling back, tearing away flesh as Aurora screams in agony! Nickles sits up in a rage, spitting blood from his mouth before clasping his hands together and delivering an axe-handle into Aurora’s sternum!
The wind leaves her lungs and Nickles rolls off her with an elbow to her head before carrying his momentum over and rolls to his feet; he drunkenly stumbles, shaking cobwebs as Aurora is dazed on the ground. Charlie with a growl grabs her injured arm and drags her across the ground as she hollers before he twists and forces her to her feet and tries to bowl her into the open grave but Aurora stops short and reverses the whip into one of her own and hurls Charlie into the barrier!
Nickles smacks his back against the wooden fence and Aurora sprints forward!
”Bard” Bertram Bishoptree: "CRITICAL TRIGGER!!!!”
HUGE Shotgun Dropkick snaps the fence as Charlie is forced through! Wood splinters off as the barrier is wrecked and Aurora stays on the ground for a moment rolling onto her shoulder and pushes herself up with one hand as her other arm falls limp.
Nickles coughs up blood as he tries to stay in the match, crawling forward and falling onto the mid-panel of the fence, his head over his arm as he rests for a moment trying to catch his breath.
Aurora doubles over, breathing heavily as she eyeballs Nickles, she grimaces and runs in with a roar!
”Bard” Bertram Bishoptree: "ENTROPY BLADE!!!!!!”
The V-Trigger lands and sends Charlie hurling back as Aurora falls into the remaining fence with force and leans over expelling air. Sweat dropping in buckets as she whips her hair back and falls back, fatigue hitting her.
”Bard” Bertram Bishoptree: "Both Aurora and Charlie Nickles have displayed hearts of great valor, resilience unyielding, and a drive most fierce! They refuse to surrender, each pushing the other to the very brink. Yet, alas, another battle awaits them this very night—how much more shall they sacrifice in pursuit of glory?"
The crowd urge both competitors to rally. Aurora tilts her head up and looks around the arena before her eyes fall on Charlie, who is staring at her from the ground, coated in blood and debris he throws a single arm forward and tries crawling towards her. Aurora forces herself up, her arm trailing by her side as she clutches her ribs. In a seated position she grabs her injured arm and pushes and twists with a gasp of pain before she begins flexing her fingers and starts to move it again.
Charlie halts his movements, his eyes flickering as he struggles to stay conscious.
Aurora gets to her feet and wobbles briefly before putting one foot in front of the other and moving to Nickles.
Aurora stands over Nickles, her face drenched in sweat and exhaustion, but her eyes as motivated as they’ve ever been. Aurora lifts her foot, steadily and readily to stop Charlie Knicks into the mud where he belongs. But once again, the lights cut off, and Judy Garland reemerges.
Judy once again silences bringing the lights back in her absence. Aurora peers around over her still grounded opponent, not sure what that was!
5:44
5:43
5:42
Aurora falls to one knee in front of Nickles and goes to grab him but Charlie springs to life once more!
A jagged fence post in his hand, he digs the splintered wood into Aurora’s forehead!
Aurora screams from the torture as Nickles digs broken wood into her forehead, working it back and forth as large chips stick into her head to the horror of the audience!
Charlie’s eyes are wide and manic as he is frothing at the mouth digging deeper and deeper as a torrent of blood pours from Aurora who throws punches into Nickles temple but he doesn’t even blink! Going further and further until Aurora finally manages to get Nickles away with a knee shot to the groin and follows up with a forearm to the nose pushing him away!
Aurora pulls away from him, her hands quivering as they go to touch the stakes protruding from head like wicked horns.
”Bard” Bertram Bishoptree: “Holy fuckin’ shit!”
Her hair dyed crimson, herface and upper body are red as a river of plasma pours down her. Nickles rushes behind her and takes her down with a falling elbow between her shoulder blades!
Aurora collapses in a heap as she tries to crawl away but Charlie, with a second wind, gets onto her with speed and he begins stomping down on her spine while screaming at her.
Nickles breathes heavily and looks at an unmoving Aurora. His eyes move to the open grave.
But then continue to the large, flat boulder dangling from ropes gently rocking in the air.
With an unnecessary slap to the back of Aurora’s head, he grabs her hair and drags her across the ground, Aurora’s legs barely kicking as Nickles dog walks her to the boulder and strenuously picks her up and throws her on top of it.
Aurora rolls and is splayed out on top of the boulder, blood spurting from her forehead.
With some effort, Nickles follows and hops on to the boulder too.
”Bard” Bertram Bishoptree: "What madness doth plague this wretch's mind? He had the victory within his grasp, yet doth he seek not to end it, but rather to bring about her untimely demise?!"
Plucking Aurora up into the air, Charlie briefly smiles before-
The vertical suplex piledriver forces the wood further in to Aurora’s skull as her head hits rock!
She lets out a blood-curdling scream as she clutches her head and drops from the boulder onto the ground.
Nickles lets out a groan of pain as he lands hard on the boulder and falls to the ground after Aurora, clutching the base of his spine.
”Bard” Bertram Bishoptree: "What vile madness is this?! Both should have perished ere now! Shall the bell not strike its final toll, that we might bring an end to this wretched contest?!"
1:18
1:17
1:16
Aurora gasps for air on the ground as her eyes try to focus on what's in front of her.
Nickles, adrenaline falling, hobbles toward her with a thousand yard stare.
He leans down to her, twinging as he aches, and grabs her hair forcing her up and pushing her towards the open grave, her legs failing to carry her.
At the edge, the crowd get to their feet in anticipation.
Charlie puts a hand around her throat at the foot of the grave.
And lightly pushes.
Aurora falls back.
And the crowd roar with hype!
As Aurora’s hand clasps Charlie’s beard!
Charlie digs his feet into the dirt, standing firm!
Aurora throws her entire body forward!
And crashes her skull against Charlies!
Stakes of wood stick into his face, ripping from Aurora’s flesh.
Aurora falls back again.
But headbutts again!
And again!!
AND AGAIN!!!
AND AGAIN!!!!
0:03
Until Charlie’s face is a mess and he drunkenly falls forward!
0:02
Aurora pushing herself to the side!
0:01
AND CHARLIE NICKLES TOPPLES INTO THE GRAVE!!!
0:00
AS AURORA HITS THE DIRT TO THE SIDE!
WINNER ADVANCING TO THE FINALS AND NEW TELEVISION CHAMPION - AURORA!
Aurora’s music hits to the overwhelming cheers of the crowd.
”Bard” Bertram Bishoptree: "By some stroke of fate, or force unknown, Aurora hath done the impossible! A new Champion is crowned, and by the heavens, what a fierce battle it hath been! How either hath endured such travail is beyond my reckoning! Yet, the night is far from its end, and Aurora’s journey is not yet complete. What fate awaits her in the hours to come?”
BAMA: Next up, for the freshly minted Anarchy Tag Team Championships, we have unlikely duo of “Cavortin’” Jake Borden and Roger facing off against Richard Powers and Summer Page!
TODD: Correct, Bama! These two teams are on a collision course after surviving a month long tournament to get here!
The crowd starts going nuts as the Xtron for Them No Good Bastards fires up on the stage. Walking out, dressed brown cloaks, are Bobby Bourbon and Thunder Knuckles.
TODD: Woah, the number one contenders to the winners of this match are out!
BAMA: They’re dressed like Robin Hood and Little John, Todd!
TODD: Well, they rob from the rich, and while not poor by any means they are morally bankrupt, Bama!
TK and Bobby walk down to the ringside area, but round the ring and point at the announce booth.
BAMA: Damn it.
TODD: What’s wrong, Bama?
BAMA: These fucking guys.
TK shakes his head ‘no’ as Bobby bellows at Bama.
BOBBY: WE’RE NO GOOD BASTARDS YOU DASCHUND!
Bama looks absolutely terrified and confused at being called a Daschund.
TK: That’s right, little doggies, now fuck off while we show you how announcing a tag team championship match is fuckin’ done.
Several fans are asked to move aside as an entire orchestra enters the small venue. The Baha Men are here, live, and the entire orchestra strikes up and begins to play! The fans go wild, even the ones who didn’t know they’d have to get up for the orchestra.
BOBBY: How. How did we lose to these guys?
TK: Obviously, Bobby, they cheated. They were on P.E.D.s!
BOBBY: Performance Enhancing Drugs for these two would be their ADHD meds!
Outside the arena we see a British Flag Mini Cooper pull up to the theatre.
*it's a small car
"Cavortin'" Jake Borden steps out, bedecked in his ring attire, followed by Roger, who steps out of the driver's seat. The crowd is going wild for the hometown boy! Borden and Roger raise their arms as the fans who are just lingering outside of the arena for no good reason in the middle of a wrestling show go bananas.
Borden and Roger walk into the arena, but are stopped at the gate. They present their two tickets to the show!
TK: Wait, they had to have tickets to get in here?
BOBBY: The economy is tight these days, Brother Knuckles. Sort of why we're doing commentary as community service or whatever the office makes us do these days.
Borden and Roger enter the theatre, and proudly strut through the lobby to the theatre proper. They walk down, through the crowd, who are going absolutely ham for the brightest shining star among the British Empire, Roger, along with his spectacular partner! They then enter the ring and await their opponents.
The orchestra strikes up another tune, and Rihanna walks out to perform alongside them! Summer Page walks out and greets the fans, but behind her we see Richard Powers, full of beans and carrying something so disrespectful to the entire crowd, which erupts in boos!
TK: Look at Powers, he's letting the fans here in England know they're second class, second rate, and secondary to him getting his Xbux back.
BOBBY: Fans, Richard Powers is flying the British Flag but it's been rotated one-hundred and eighty degrees!
TK: That's right, Bobby. Americans hate it when their flag is upside down, but the Brits, whoo boy, you can tell Richard Powers is so proud to be anything but British tonight!
*reference
Powers and Page enter the ring.
"Cavortin'" Jake Borden and Roger
- vs -
Richard Powers and "Spoiled" Summer Page
Anarchy Tag Team Championships
Suddenly, the fans go wild as the ukulele section of the orchestra really ramps up!
"Bashmaster" Barry Masterson walks out, flanked by two interns carrying each of the minty fresh Anarchy Tag Team Championships!
TK: Those belts look good.
BOBBY: We'll make them look better.
TK: Fuck yeah we will!
BOBBY: Man, this is the fourth entrance so far for this match, we should have used that orchestra I think.
The Bashmaster makes his way to the ring and enters, briefly speaking to the referee. The interns hold up the contested titles and then make their way to the announce position to wait. Bashmaster has a microphone!
"BASHMASTER" BARRY MASTERSON: Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the finals of the Bashmaster Classic! The winner of this contest will become the inaugural Anarchy Tag Team Champions!
The crowd goes wild as BM slides out of the ring, nearly plopping to the floor, and takes position near TNGB.
*ding*ding*ding*
All four competitors rush each other! Roger is in with a right to Powers! Page is in with a right to Borden! Powers counters, and kicks Roger in the groin!
TK: Richard just got Roger right in the bollards!
BOBBY: Bollocks!
TK: No, seriously!
Borden ducks the right, turns, and kicks Powers right in the testes, dropping him!
Borden pivots and throws a kick to Page's groin!
Page doesn't go down, but recoils because it still hurts!
Page kicks Borden in the nuts!
Page stands tall!
BOBBY: Summer Page just tanked that pussy punt and shot back!
TK: DICK KICK CITY!
Page goes to Borden, bringing him to his feet! Big back chop from Page sends Borden into a neutral corner as Powers and Roger take their places outside the ropes! Page backs up and rushes in with a spinning wheel kick to Borden!
BOBBY: That's such a sweet move, I should do that move.
TK: That move is silly, I hate it.
Page scoops Borden and hoists him up to the top turnbuckle! Roger fires up on the apron, shaking off the kick to the pills he took! Powers is still cradling his baby batter brewery and seething in pain. He points proudly to his 180 degree turned Union Jack.
*reference
Page climbs to the second rope, but is shoved off by Borden! Borden readies himself and bounds from the second rope at Page with a forearm smash, knocking her silly!
Meanwhile, on the apron, Powers is flipping off fans, and the Union Jack that has been rotated an entire 180 degrees! The crowd boos!
TK: Powers is fucking with these people, Bobby, and I am all for it.
BOBBY: I hate that guy.
TK: I love that guy!
Roger is obviously irate, as the native Englishman in such an historic location, to see his native flag disrespected so much!
Borden approaches Page, on the ground, and drops a knee to the back! Borden rolls through the knee to his corner...
...But it's Powers and Page's corner!
BOBBY: HOW.
TK: They'll get their crackback.
Powers clocks Borden! Borden recoils and is caught by a rising Summer Page with a roll up!
1...
2...
Borden kicks out but Page holds the leg! She gets to her feet and delivers a knee smash to Borden! She pulls him closer to her corner, and tags in Powers!
The crowd shits on this immediately with waves of the most raucous booing in the history of raucous booing. Powers mockingly bows to the crowd, points to the King's box, and gives a brief thumbs-up.
TK: I think you're supposed to bow to a king, or kneel, or some shit.
BOBBY: I never made a hooplah about becoming King of the XWF a few years ago.
Powers with a stomp to the back of Borden's left hand.
Borden rolls onto his side, gripping at his hand.
Powers with a swift football kick to Borden's exposed spine.
Borden flops like a fish onto his back. Powers with a stomp to the top of Borden's right ankle.
BOBBY: Powers just dissecting Borden with those boots, Brother Knuckles.
TK: Straight fucking nasty, Bobby.
Powers walks back to his corner, casually, and tags Page.
The crowd continues to boo to the top of their lungs power at Powers.
Page hoists Borden up, and cracks him with a huge back chop!
A red hand print is forming on Borden's chest.
Borden has had enough!
Borden beats his own chest, firing up!
Borden with a bionic elbow to Page!
Borden positions Page, lifting her, and landing a piledriver of remark!
The crowd goes bananas at the comeback!
BOBBY: Bro, they were feeling that one all the way back in 1984!
TK: That was a good piledriver, but mine's better.
Borden pins Page!
1...
2...
POWERS IN TO BREAK THE PIN!
The crowd's reaction of utter disgust echoes into parts of France at this point.
Roger jumps the top rope into the ring!
He's rushing Powers!
NO!
The referee stops Roger, telling him to get back into his corner!
Meanwhile, Powers is lifting Borden up!
KISS OF DICK!
Borden reels back into the corner, gagging and dry heaving!
But Roger isn't there to get the tag because the referee is chiding him!
Roger heads back to his corner as Powers returns to his.
BOBBY: Borden needs a tag to save his life, Powers and Page have completely cut off the ring for him so far!
TK: They're definitely worth a watch.
Borden stumbles from the corner to the center of the ring, and collides with Page who is back to her feet.
Borden throws a right, but Page dodges it!
TOTAL KNOCKOUT!
Borden recoils into the ropes, and Page follows in with Pure Perfection!
NO!
Borden holds the ropes and can't be lifted for the move!
Page stands Borden up, and hits a third vicious chop to his chest.
The welt of her hand is crimson now.
The referee goes to stop Summer Page and allow Borden to get out of the ropes.
As referee is distracted, Powers walks over to Borden and begins to bite his forehead!
TK: The ole' Greco-Roman Forehead Bite, Bobby.
BOBBY: Gross.
Powers saunters back, giving Victory signs to the crowd who pelt him back with an audio response so violent and enraged the cameras shake.
Borden staggers back to the center of the ring, and Page snags him for a snap suplex!
BORDEN FLIPS OVER ONTO HIS FEET FROM THE SUPLEX ATTEMPT!
Borden with a savate kick!
Page doubles over!
Powers calls to the referee, asking him to get a fan kicked out of the Royal Shakespeare Theatre.
The crowd heat at this is so immense it's nigh volcanic.
Borden goes and makes the tag to Roger, and the crowd goes wild!
Roger is in the ring, and hits a right to Page!
Another right to Page!
Powers points at what's going on, pretending to be surprised!
The referee turns and tells Roger to get out of the ring!
Roger pleads his case but the ref has none of it!
The crowd is almost rioting!
BOBBY: Christ, Powers is manipulating every dirty trick in the book tonight!
TK: Yeah, leave some for the rest of us, pal.
Roger, unhappily, walks back to his corner!
Meanwhile, Page tags in Powers!
Powers brings Borden up and claps him with a chop.
The welt on Borden's chest seems to be swollen.
Powers maneuvers Borden to the corner, and sets him up for the Powers That Was!
BOBBY: Seriously, fuck this guy.
TK: No, fuck the other guy!
BOBBY and TK: Fuck 'em both!
Powers walks slowly over to Roger, and spits at him.
Roger tries to get into the ring, but the ref stops him!
Powers rushes to Borden to take him to the absolute next level of a kick to the gonads.
Borden slides over the second rope to the apron!
Borden with a bionic elbow to Powers!
Page rushes Borden!
Borden with a bionic elbow to Page!
Borden back into the ring and hits Powers with an inverted Manhattan Drop!
BOBBY: Borden showcasing some new offense here tonight, Brother Knuckles.
TK: Yeah, don't let him do that Nestea Drop to you!
Powers recoils in sheer torment from having his salacious skinsac attacked yet again in this match.
The referee sends Page out of the ring, and both Powers and Roger and on the mat!
The referee begins to count to see if either man can answer the ten count!
BOBBY: This is not just the XWF, bro, this is Queensbury rules!
TK: Is it? Do you know what that means, Bobby?
BOBBY: ...
No. It sounds neat though.
Roger answers the count first, standing as he watches Powers slowly rise to his feet!
Roger backs Powers to his corner, and tags Borden!
Borden in the ring, lifting Powers to the top turnbuckle!
Borden's chest is heaving, the welt probably going to last several days.
BOBBY: Look, TK, they're doing the thing!
TK: Goddamn it, this better not be the stupidest move in fuckin' wrasslin'.
Borden climbs, and goes to headscissor Powers, sending him down off the top rope...
Borden releases the headscissors as Powers is left airborne and alone...
Roger leaps...
BOBBY: Ho-lee fuckballs, that was a slingshot stunner!
TK: Bobby, that was actually dope!
BOBBY: It's going to the Move With The Dumbest Name Ever!
TK: It's not dumb!
BOBBY: That's the ruse!
Borden drops to lay on top of Powers!
1...
Page rushes the pin to break it up!
2...
Roger intercepts her and they both spill out of the ring!
3!
WINNER
NEW ANARCHY TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS
"Cavortin'" Jake Borden and Roger
The crowd goes wild as Roger slowly stands and climbs to the opposing corner, and corrects the Union Jack, rotating it 180 degrees!
*reference
The crowd is absolutely deafening in sharing their adulation at seeing the hometown boy, Roger, stand strong for his country while that vile enemy to England, Richard Powers, got pinned.
Roger and Borden embrace, and raise each other's wrists along with the referee.
The Bashmaster enters the ring.
"BASHMASTER" BARRY MASTERSON: Gentlemen, it is my honor and privelege to award these to you, the winners of my inaugural Bashmaster Classic, and the new Anarchy Tag Team Champions!
The interns enter the ring, and both wrap the Anarchy Tag Team Championship belts around the waists of Roger and "Cavortin'" Jake Borden.
BOBBY: Well, bro, I think this hallmark moment sucks.
TK: Yep.
BOBBY: Should we strike up the band?
TK: Strike up the band.
The orchestra begins to play as Bobby and TK stand, both doffing their brown cloaks. They're both bedecked in white coveralls with jockstraps on the outside. TK dons a black bowler cap as Bobby puts on a black top hat.
Masterson looks on as Bobby and TK drop their veil, exiting quickly as he does.
There's no reason he needs to be a part of what's about to happen.
TK slides into the ring with his signature baseball bat, lifting it and cracking Roger across the back with it.
Bobby runs and grabs two ukuleles from the orchestra, which are obviously not being played now.
Borden turns and glares at TK in horror!
Bobby slides into the ring, and claps two ukuleles around the cranium of Borden!
The crowd is reacting wildly to every moment.
Bobby hoists Roger up for a big vertical suplex...
TK gets some damned impressive air on this one...
RainbowLaserDeathSequence!
The crowd is still just going crazy at the happenings while the announce booth is silent for a moment.
TODD: Folks, the Anarchy commentary team is here at Stratford-Upon-Avon and you’re about to watch two tanks run into each other at full-speed!
BAMA: I wouldn’t call these two tanks, Toddy! One’s a tank, the other’s a hummer painted to look like a tank! And is about to get RUN OVAH!
“One for the Money” rings throughout the arena as JY steps out from behind the curtain with a kings crown on. He stands center stage and takes in all of the boo’s before adjusting his crown with a smirk and heading down to the ring.
RING ANNOUNCER: INTROOODUUUUCINGGGG The One, The Only. He hails from TOOOROOONTOOO ONTARIOOOO CANADAAAAA, KING JUUUUUSTIIINNN YOOOOOORK!
TODD: “King” Justin York pulled off quite an upset last Anarchy, defeating Cyph3r one-on-one, becoming the #1 contender for the XWF Revolution Title!
BAMA: And as the owner of Pro Wrestling Valor, with Cyph3r as the PWV champ, York got the chance to whip on his unruly employee, ev’ry boss’s dream!
TODD: Regardless, “King” Justin York *would* be challenging for Matthias Syn’s Revolution title tonight… IF Syn hadn’t made his way to the Semi-Finals, coming juuuuuust short of upsetting the defending King of the XWF, Kieran King!
BAMA: So we know Syn’s gotta a weakness against royalty, Toddy! Can King York dethrone the Revolution champ?
TODD: A win tonight would go a long way toward making that case, Bama!
York enters the ring and stand on the middle ropes and holds his crown high in the air while giving a death stare into the crowd.
A choir stands on stage, in safe spots, as flame begins to erupt from the stage, as Oz walks out. It seems as if Oswald has literally paid for an entire metal orchestra, just to play him to the ring. As the first lick of the guitar hits the air and the drums start off, Oz starts to walk to the ring, dressed in a large white cloak covering his body. However, instead of entering the ring first, he waits. He stands there near the ring floor next to the edge of the ramp.
TODD: And here, you have one of the most dominant forces on the Anarchy brand, Bama! Mister Oz!
BAMA: An absolute, old-school HOSS, Toddy! A goddamn powerhouse! A leviathan!
TODD: Oz came inches away from ending Syn’s Revolution Title reign himself at Snow Holds Barred! And he’s made clear, he believes he deserves every title opportunity! He deserves every title! So, you gotta imagine he looks at York having a title shot and not him as a slap to Oz’s face!
BAMA: Well, if Ozzy wants to step back in
He slowly pulls off the cloak, folds it and then places it on the edge of the ring, next to one of the posts before climbing onto the apron and over the top rope where he goes to his corner, sitting down as he waits for the bell.
York mean-mugs his opponent as he hands the crown to the official, before barking at him not to smudge the metal with his fingerprints.
Oz looks on, silently, drinking in his opponent’s bravado completely.
TODD: In one corner, you’ve got PWV owner *and* King, Justin York! In the other, MISTER Oz. Kinda of a difference in titles, huh, Bama?
BAMA: And a difference in weight-class. York is used tah being the biggest dog in the junkyard scrap, but Ozzy outweighs him by a good seventy-some-odd pounds!
TODD: True! It’ll be a test of his mettle to see how he adapts to being the smaller opponent!
The two meet in the center of the ring…
DING DING DING!
Justin York
- vs -
Mr. Oz 1RP/1K
The moment the bell rings, the two circled, muscles tensed, anticipation brimming in every step. York’s smirk widened as he extended his hands, offering Oz a test of strength.
TODD: York, not intimidate by the incredibly physique of Mister Oz, offering to start this match with a contest of who is stronger!
BAMA: Insane choice, Toddy baby! Oz is stronger than Texas Tea and outweighs York by almost a hundred pounds!
TODD: It’s a bold strategy, Bama! But York’s a clever one! You have to imagine there’s a trick up his sleeve if he’s opting for an opening that puts him at a disadvantage.
Oz’s expression remained calm, but his fingers curled slightly, as though considering the offer. York raises his hands in the air, eager to begin the test of stre-
FWSH! With an abrupt burst of speed and power, Oz lunged forward—not for the grapple, but straight for York’s throat.
TODD: Whoa! Looks like Oz might have been as suspicious of York’s offer as we were!
BAMA: Or he’s just been itching to choke the life outta York and couldn’t wait any longer!
York’s eyes widened in shock as Oz’s iron grip closed around his neck, driving him backward into the corner. Oz goes to wrap both mitts around York’s throat!
…But the wily veteran York, driven back into the corner by Oz’s chokehold, squeezes the middle rope!
TODD: Ah! Well-played by York! He got taken out of his prep, and now he’s using a rope break to re-evaluate his approach.
The official counts as Oz squeezes York’s throat!
ONE!
TWO!
THR-Oz releases the hold, before eyeing the official venomously for daring to order him to do anyth-
WHAM! While Oz was distracted, York planted his feet, and shoved Oz back to the center of the ring!
TODD: Oh my! York is one of the strongest men on Anarchy, and perhaps THE most self-assured!
BAMA: Does he have a deathwish, Toddrick? He’s spent every second of this match trying to piss off Mister Oz, whose a raging goldarn bull!
Oz stutter-stepped backwards, his brow incredulous, surprised by both the gall and audacity of this opponent… and also the force of York’s shove!
York’s smirk returned—this time laced with defiance.
TODD: Oz is used to manhandling his opponent’s around the ring! But York is a 5’8”, 249 pound tank himself! He may not be as big as Ozzy, but York is clearly taking a tact opponents of Oz rarely do… trying to out-STRENGTH him!
BAMA: It’s a bold strategy, Toddy! And I’ll send roses to York’s next-of-kin! Ain’t no way you can out-strength the Oz-Man!”
The enigmatic Oz snorts like a mad bull, before lunging forward again, at his cornered opponent!
TODD: The deceptively quick Oz, looking to put the fast-hurt back on York!
Oz zips to the corner…
But York dips under his arms! The two spin in place, now Oz is cornered!
Oz rebounds off the turnbuckle, not wanting to give his opponent space…
But York reels his arm back!
KERAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!
A brutal knife-edge chop slashed across Oz’s chest, the crack echoing through the arena.
WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
TODD: WOW! What a chop from Justin York! Oz might be a redwood, but that chop could’ve felled any tree!
Oz’s shoulders jerked slightly as he leans back against the turnbuckle, upon his usually-unreadable visage…
A FLICKER of discomfort!
TODD: Oz trying to hide the pain from that chop, but I think York just made the invincible man feel pain!
York saw the small tell on Oz’s face and grins ear-to-ear!
Oz snorts, trying to power his way out of the corner… But York manages to, like an offensive lineman, keep Oz contained back with his shoulder…
Oz leans back against the turnbuckle, trying to build up room to charge his way out…
But the moment he steps back, York reels back!
KERAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!
WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
This time, Oz reacted plainly. His eyes flashed, his teeth grit, his lips pressed into a thin line as he attempts to, through sheer mental discipline, dismiss the pain emanating through his chest.
TODD: Another devastating knife-edge chop! That one sounded like a gunshot!
York sneers confidently, as he starts to reel back his arm once m-
WHAM! In an instant, the lightning-fast Oz’s arm shoots forward! Forearm smash straight to York’s jaw!
BAMA: Hot damn! That Oz haymaker cleaned every clock in York’s watch shop!
York’s head snapped backwards, as he tumbles backward, landing in a crouch! York’s cocky smirk disappears for the first time as he staggered, blinking away the impact, wiping his lip, before rising back u-
WHAM! Oz zooms forward again, not wasting York’s moment of vulnerability, driving a knee that catches York STRAIGHT in the ribs!
BAMA: Here we go! Ozzy about to knock all the air outta York’s windmill!
…This time, York doesn’t shoot back up to his feet… His face contorts in agony as he doubles over, leaning forward on his hands… a sharp gasp escaping his lips as he clutched his gut.
Oz’s minimally angry expression shifts back to a calm, almost serene demeanor…
As he latches his arm around York and, with frightening ease, launched him into the air!
HIP TOSS!
York hit the mat with a dull thud, arching his back in pain…
TODD: MY WORD! Justin York is a hair-shy of two-hundred-fifty pounds! And Ozzy just hucked him like a scarecrow!
BAMA: York wanted a hoss fight? Well Anarchy’s ultimate HOSS is ‘bout tah give him one, Toddy!
York’s features sharpen In pain… but also with visible irritated! Frustrated, ready to attack!
TODD: Justin York has taken a licking thus far, but right now, he’s looking more mad than beat! He appears eager to attack Oz head-on!
BAMA: Which, I gua-ron-tee is gonna make flip York’s mad-tah-beat ratio, Toddrick!
York slams his fists against the mat, forcing himself through the pain back onto his feet.
Oz remained standing, composed, watching him with a quiet patience. And the smallest smirk.
BAMA: Before, maybe Oz was looking to pick up a win? Now, I think he wants tah break York’s spirit! He wants Justin York to leave this match knowing he ain’t stronger than Mister Oz!
TODD: I don’t think you can convince York he’s not tougher or stronger than anyone! f Oz wants York to know he’s Justin’s superior? Oz gonna have to prove it to him!
York surged forward, feinting left!
Oz leans left, looking to meet York a grapple…
But Justin zags to the right, extending his left arm straight!
Short-arm clothesline!
Oz staggers back into the ropes!
TODD: Wow! Another sharp move from York manages to send Oz reeling!
BAMA: Feh, reeling, ‘e says! Oz still hasn’t left his feet, Toddy! And he threw York like a goddamn trashbag!
TODD: True, Bama! But, right now, Oz looks vulnerable!
Seeing the larger man off-balance, York wasted no time, latching an arm to huck Oz into an Irish whip!
York HEA-...
…
HEAV-...
…
Nope! Oz clings onto the top rope with his right hand and York has no success with his Irish whip!
BAMA: Humiliatin’ for York! The guy’s a chihuahua in the ring with a mammoth!
Oz BOOTS York in the gut! York doubles over again, as Oz grabs him by the scruff of the neck and forces him into the ropes…
This time, Oz grabs York’s arm and slings him into an Irish whip!
York…
Spins and revolves, looking to launch Oz into the Irish whip!
…Oz puts the brakes on, stopping dead-center of the ring!
But York hasn’t released his opponent’s arm, twisting it back behind Oz’s back!
TODD: Oho! York manages to secure Oz in a textbook hammerlock!
York doesn’t waste this opening, kicking Oz’s knee to try and drop him to the mat, while twisting with all his strength to weaken Oz’s right arm!
Oz’s mask of stoicness cracks! His jaw clenched, his fingers twitching as pain coursed through his shoulder and neck!
TODD: York wasting no time with this brief opening to break down Oz’s strength!
…Oz’s chest slows… His breathing became heavier, controlled but deliberate.
BAMA: Oz tryin’ tah go to his happy place, when he’s gotta break this hold ASAP!
York felt the shift in Oz’s body and leaned in harder, pressing Oz’s arm higher onto his back. A smirk tugged at his lips again, as if savoring Oz’s struggle.
But then—Oz’s fist tightens with focus and resolve! His breathing steadied, controlled!
York’s smirk faded.
With a powerful shove, Oz forced backward against the ropes, pressing York against the ropes…
York’s grip slips in the jostling!
And in one fell swoop, Oz’s left hand goes over his shoulder, catching York by the back of the skull!
SNAPMARE! York tumbles up over Oz’s shoulder, landing flat on his ass!
TODD: An impressive counter by Oz! Not just strong as an ox but as deft in the ring as any!
York’s eyes widened disoriented, like he has no idea how he went from total control to being splayed on the ma-
FWOOSH!
With pure, raw strength, Oz deadlifts York into the air!
TODD: Oh my GAWD!
BAMA: You’re right, Toddy! Oz isn’t *just* as strong as an ox… He’s as strong as a whole damn ox herd!
York kicks wildly, trying to break outta Oz’s grip!
But, with perfect form, Oz raises York up!
SPINEBUSTER SLAM!
York’s body buckled from the impact, his mouth open in a silent groan as he arched his back… His whole face emits pure PAIN!
Oz exhales deeply, his face calm once more. But there was a glimmer in his eyes now—satisfaction..
TODD: This one could be over!
The official slides into position as Oz hooks York’s leg!
1!
2!
THR-NOOOOOOOOO!
York hucks his shoulder off the mat with everything he has at two-point-five.
TODD: Incredible resolve by Justin York! He refuses to let Oz think himself the better man today!
BAMA: Hey! If York wants a little whoopin’ dessert on top of his whoopin’ main course, Chef Oz will be happy to oblige!
Oz, stoic as ever, rises out of the pin back to his feet…
York, holding his ribs, rolled onto his side, his breathing labored. He was hurting, but his pride wouldn’t let him show it. Instead, he wiped at his mouth, propped himself up on one elbow, and—
Grinned cockily, gesturing at Oz to come at him!
TODD: York may not be quite as big as Oz, but he has all the grit of a Bible made out of sandpaper!
BAMA: Todd, please leave the folksy idioms tah the professionals!
Oz’s brow lifted ever so slightly… before again charging straight at York, looking for a grapple!
York sidesteps, shoving Oz towards the ropes!
Oz rebounds off the ropes, closing in on his oppon-
SPEAR! SPEAR! SPEAR FROM JUSTIN YORK!
Oz’s body folded as York crashed into him with everything he had!
The crowd rises to their feet amazed!
BAMA: WOW! For the first time in this match, York has Oz on his back!
York breathes with relief as he shoves his whole weight over Oz’s shoulders, driving his elbow into Oz’s face as he pins!
The official counts!
1!
2!
THREEEEEEEE-NOOOOOOOOO!
At two and three-quarters, Oz forces York off the mat with a powerful kickout!
BAMA: …Phew! York got lucky there, but Ozzy’s just too strong!
Oz’s powerful kickout forces York to sit-up! King York snorts impatiently, ready for this one to be over!
He bends down, yanked Oz up, and hooked both arms!
TODD: King’s Throne might be imminent!
York jaw-jacks at the crowd, telling media in the front row to get their cameras ready for the big finish!
York goes to liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiift…
…When suddenly, Oz lifts his back! York goes up and over, flipping onto his back!
Back Body Drop from Oz to York!
TODD: Oz fights out! Now, York is looking like he’s in trouble!
York shoves his way off his back, back onto his feet… Perhaps, too quick, as his legs look a little shaky…
As Oz arm cuts through the air…
STRAIGHT INTO YORK’S THROAT!
I FAILED YOU! (mandible claw)
The media that York just told to prepare their cameras start taking pictures rapidly! The crowd is on their feet!
York’s arms wildly flail, trying to thrash his way out of Oz’s grip!
Oz, stoicly, somberly, begins muttering to York as he clinches the hold…
”I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”
BAMA: …Oz is a freak, man.
York’s body jerked, his eyes wide in panic. His limbs flailed, fingers twitching as the air in his lungs burned.
Oz shushes York, as he continues muttering…
”I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”
The referee hovered, asking York if he’d like to submit!
York’s hands clenched into fists. His legs start to buckle…
…
His arms…
…Drooooooop…
”I’m sorry…”
…
”I’m sor-…”
WHIP!
In one sudden burst, York’s arms surge forward, grappling Oz!
TODD: York, since he can’t break Oz’s grip… Is looking to beat Oz WHILE being choked!
BAMA: By lifting Ozzy? The man’s 326 pounds! There’s no way!
York, with Oz’s fist still jammed in his gob, latches on a front facelock…
…
AND IN ONE WHIPPING MOTION, YORK LIFTS OZ UP!
TODD: INCREDIBLE!
BAMA: NO FUCKIN’ WAY!
The cameras flash! The crowd screams!
York has Oz vertical…
AND DROPS HIM ON HIS HEAD!
KILLZONE! (Canadian Brainbuster)!
Oz’s body goes limp, as his hand slides out of York’s throat!
York sputters, oxygen rushing back into his lungs, as he flops over atop Oz!
The official counts!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE
WINNER: “KING” JUSTIN YORK
BAMA: …Daaaaaamn! What a goddamn hoss fight! What a battle of the beasts!
TODD: The behemoth Oz tried to overpower his opponent tonight! But King Justin York refused to be outdone! That’s his second win in a row! Riding this momentum from winning the #1 contendership to the Revolution Title, can the King be the one to finally end the Matthias Syn Revolution?!?
As The Storm is Coming hits, a cackling laugh echoes over the PA system.
Suddenly, blue lights shimmer over the X-Tron! Smoke and rainfall stream down as LATOYA HIXX walks through the curtain, flexing her muscles.
JC: Latoya Hixx! The Storm! She has taken her fair share of lumps in the XWF! But, it’s worth remembering she’s pulled off wins over some truly impressive names! Vinnie Lane! Mastermind! And Micheal Graves!
BG: Not “Allegedly” Micheal Graves, but “Actually” Micheal Graves!
JC: Same guy! (according to Graves)... Point being, Hixx has managed to secure wins over some huge opponents in her XWF career! And if she can secure another one tonight, against this opponent, it just might be the biggest win of her career!
Hixx walks straight down towards the aisle, slaps a few XWF fans, and then enters the ring!
The lights dim! Cameras flash as Hixx flexes her arms once more. She screams “LET’S GOOOOOOO!” before she turns up the ramp, waiting for her opponent to arrive.
The lights fade out suddenly. As Sarah Wolf’s theme begins. the lights flicker on slowly and steadily, until they maintain a muted version of themselves, which Sarah stands in the middle of the entrance way.
JC: Speaking of recent history, Sarah Wolf has been absolutely dominant! She scored a victory over Enigma AND Bacchus! She briefly won the X-Treme title… And she was a Dark Horse candidate to escape Ides of March with a Crown… before losing a close match to last year’s King, Kieran King!
BG: That match was a robbery! You know it, I know it, and Wolf knows it, which is why she attacked King post-match! Now, instead of competing for a crown, she’s stuck sharing a ring with a scrub like Latoya Hixx!
JC: There are no small matches, Brody! Only small wrestlers! Wolf may see this one as beneath her station, but she would almost certainly set herself up for bigger opportunities with a win tonight… As would Hixx!
BG: If Latoya Hixx beats Sarah Wolf tonight, I'll eat my own goddamned head.
The lights follow Sarah as she slowly makes her way to the ring. On either side of her are no hands outreached, no fans trying to gain her attention. Just angry faces and concerned looks. Sarah steps into the ringside area, and moves to the ring area, rolling in, and rolling to her feet. She positions herself in the corner of her choosing, and waits.
DING DING DING!
Sarah Wolf
- vs -
Latoya Hixx
Singles Match
The moment the bell rings, Hixx raises her arms and FLEXES her rippling biceps to the XWF universe! The crowd hoops and hollers!
STORM IS COMING! *clap clap clapclapclap*
JC: We’re in the town known for the birth of theatre! And Latoya Hixx is performing for the crowd!
Hixx brings her arms under and wraps them under her chest, her stunning physique leaving the crowd mesmerized.
…Wolf, meanwhile, examines this peacocking display with an analytical eye.
Hixx, her cockiness having reached a critical mass as the crowd bleats and screams for the coming Storm…
Suddenly breaks into a forward sprint toward her opponent!
JC: Hixx said she’s done being afraid and she’s taking the fight right to Wolf!
BG: …Which is… basically what she already did every match anyway…?
Hixx throwing a heavy right hook, aiming an early knockout blow straight at Wolf’s snout!
Wolf’s expression remains still as a rock, completely unmoved both physically and emotionally by the raging Storm!
Hixx’s fist thrusts forward!
MISS!
Hixx clumsily stumbles forward, as Wolf circle-steps around her opponent, her body slipping casually out of the path of Hixx’s strike!
BG: Whoa! Where’d Wolf go?
JC: Sarah Wolf evades the strike like a feral swine!
BG: You can s-...feral swine?
JC: Famously, the most evasive member of the animal kingdom!
Hixx gathers her footing, her back now facing Wolf! Hixx plants her feet, eager to cut off Wolf’s opening to attack from the rear…
She raises her right leg…
MULE KICK!
…ANOTHER MISS! Wolf, while still exuding the same external aloofness, again effortlessly sidesteps Hixx’s attack, this time moving directly to Hixx’s side!
BG: Whoa! Where’d Wolf go?
JC: Sarah Wolf evades the strike like a feral swine!
BG: You can s-...feral swine?
JC: Famously, the most evasive member of the animal kingdom!
Hixx’s teeth bare! Her eyes widen as Wolf moves closer… perhaps for the kill?
NOT ON THE STORM’S WATCH! Rather than back down, Hixx lunges forward, arms outstretched—seeking to grapple the smaller Wolf!
…Wolf sidesteps again!
Then—PAIN. As Wolf passes Hixx, she drags her hand across Hixx’s eyes! Eye Rake!
JC: Oh my! Somewhat underhanded tactic by Sarah Wolf!
BG: Jacko, would you call a snake biting its prey to unleash its venom underhanded? Sarah Wolf is a hunter stalking her prey! This is the natural order!
Hixx recoiled instantly, staggering back, her hands shooting up to rub the stinging pain in her eyes. She stutter-steps backwards, blinking rapidly to clear her vision.
Hixx blinks away just enough irritation to see a blur in front off her!
Hixx swung blindly in rage.
…As quickly as it was there, the blur is gone!
Then, suddenly, a searing bite on Hixx’s forearm!
Hixx’s head snapped downward, eyes wide with disbelief as she felt Wolf’s teeth sink into her skin.
HIxx screams!
JC: Oh my God! Sarah Wolf just BIT Latoya Hixx! Brody, when you called Latoya Wolf’s prey, I thought you were speaking metaphorically!
BG: At the time, I was! But my point remains valid!
Hixx, running on reflex yanks her arm back, stepping backwards against the corner turnbuckle. Wolf widened her stance… moving to keep Hixx cornered, as her lips twitch with amusement, eyes cold and empty.
JC: A possible tactical error here from Latoya Hixx! In an effort to get away from her opponent, it looks like she has trapped herself against the ropes!
BG: Latoya Hixx! Making a mental miscalculation? Who could have figured!
Hixx gritted her teeth furiously… but with a twinge of fear. Her breath grew heavy, her face red with frustration.
Wolf calmly stepped forward, closing the gap between them…
JC: This one’s been all Sarah Wolf thus far! If Hixx wants even a chance, she’s gotta figure something out!
…Suddenly, Hixx shoves out of the corner, straight toward her opponent! Her arm raised to strike Wolf straight on in the face!
JC: Hixx decides on her gambit! And it’s charging straight at Wolf!
BG: What a sudden and unexpected change from what she’d been doing before! The same thing!
As Hixx charges, Wolf effortlessly sidesteps Hixx’s blow like a matador!
…But when Wolf sidesteps, Hixx spins in place, catching Wolf from behind in a full nelson!
JC: Wow! In a sudden twist, Hixx manages to latch her arms around Sarah, like a wolf caught in a snare!
Wolf again tries to slip out, but Hixx flexes her biceps, latching her grip, holding Wolf’s arms above her head like a medieval torture device!
JC: Incredible! In one fell swoop, Hixx might have this match in hand! But can she convert this grappling advantage into a submission victory?
BG: If she does, it’d be the biggest win of her career!
JC: And you'd have to eat your own head!
Wolf again thrashes, attempting to flail her way out of Hixx’s full nelson!
…The camera catches Wolf’s eyes flaring—just a flicker of emotion. Her shoulders tensed, her back stiffened.
Hixx’s grin returned as she attempts to overpower Wolf into clasping her hands together, locking in the hold.
As Hixx squeezes, folding Wolf’s spine against itself, the official draws nearer, asking if Wolf would like to submit!
…Wolf…
Leans back against her opponent…
For the first time all match, her face shifts…
Into a wide smile.
JC:...Is Wolf… savoring the pain from Hixx’s submission?!?
The official squints curiously, before shaking his head at Hixx, Wolf wants to continue!
Hixx snarls, bending her knees to lift Wolf into the air…
But the moment Hixx adjusted for a lift, Wolf’s leg sharply hooks around Hixx’s ankle!
JC: Counter!
Hixx trips onto her back…
And Wolf, in the split-second Hixx loosened her grip, slips out of Hixx’s vicegrip…
And coils, driving her elbow DOWN onto Hixx’s falling throat!
Hixx’s limbs splay out from the elbow to the throat! The crowd ooooohs uncomfortably from the nauseating attack!
Hixx’s hands reflexively extend to her throat, cradling her crushed larynx!
Meanwhile, Wolf remained coiled and alert, barely needing to readjust… The momentary grin of ecstasy gone as quickly as it appeared.
JC: And as quickly as Hixx’s moment appeared, it’s gone! Once again, Wolf is comfortably in the driver’s seat!
BG: More like the sniper’s nest! And she’s got a wounded buck named ‘Latoya Hixx’ in her sights!
From her prone vulnerable position, Hixx panics, trying to shove and muscle Wolf out of her mount with her right, as her left continues to cradle her agonized throat.
And that’s when Wolf saw her opening.
Wolf snakes an arm around Hixx’s twisted, mutilated neck… and wrenches it back in a Spinal Lock!
JC: And Wolf secures one of her many submission holds!
BG: This is precisely where you don’t want to be against Sarah Wolf: on the mat! Wolf’s bread-and-butter is in torturous submission holds! From here, it’s not a question of if Wolf wins… it’s a question of when!
Hixx’s eyes squeezed shut as Wolf twines her arm around Hixx’s skull, squeezing her throat shut against her own chest!
Hixx’s face reddens as her fingers claw at Wolf’s grip! Her biceps flex and ripple as Hixx works with her great strength to pry apart Wolf’s hold!
BG: Oh my God! Hixx is *still* trying to muscle her way over Sarah Wolf! Instead of trying to escape, she’s shoving her way out through brute strength!
JC: If any competitor can, it’d be Latoya Hixx!
Hixx gets her hand around Wolf’s arm behind her head… She strives with all she’s got!
Hixx shoves her head off the mat, lifting herself and Wolf off the mat!
JC: Incredible! Hixx lifts her back off the mat, breaking Wolf’s torque on her spine!
Hixx pants with momentary relief…
But, in a flash, Wolf transitions! She slips into a side mount, as her legs curling around Hixx’s neck—Peruvian Necktie!
Hixx gasped, as Wolf’s thighs clasp her throat shut! Her back plummets once more again the mat!
JC: Out of the frying pan and into the fire for Hixx!
BG: You got that right, Jacko! Hixx miraculously slips out of one hold… and her reward is getting locked into an even more agonizing one from Sarah Wolf!
Hixx’s hands flail like a drowning victim trapped in the middle of the ocean…
Her hands desperately seek a lifeline, a weakness in the hold… Nothing!
The official stands over Hixx, asking if she wants to submit!
Hixx’s muscles wither… her arms spasm… her lungs seize…
All the while, Wolf’s face remained still. Focused. Cold.
JC: Can Hixx do anything do break out?!?
…In a sudden of flash of desperation, Hixx thrashes!
Running on nothing but panic and fear, Hixx rolls over!h
Hixx’s massive frame flips both competitors, just enough to wrench herself free!
JC: Incredible! One more miraculous escape for Hixx! And *now*, entirely by happenstance, Hixx is on top of Wolf!
Wolf reflexively scratches and claws at Hixx’s arms to free herself…
But, Hixx latches her powerful arms around Wolf’s smaller frame!
AND HEAVES HER INTO THE AIR! BEAR HUG!
JC: Oh wow! Hixx reaches into her bag of tricks for her old finisher! The Bear Hug! Can Hixx pull off the upset here?!?
Hixx’s arms shake exhaustedly as she squeezes with everything she’s got left in the tank, throwing every ounce of strength into squeezing the life out of Sarah Wolf!
Wolf’s ribs crunch instantly! Her spine bending unnaturally against the sheer, vice-like force of the hold! Her back brace strained!
: Hixx’s Bear Hug is targeting Wolf’s historical back issues! Can Hixx really pull it off!
Hixx’s biceps bulged, her fingers digging into Wolf’s sides. She growled through her teeth, screaming at Wolf to tap out!
The official barks at Wolf, asking if she’d like to submit!
Wolf’s eyes widened—only slightly.
Then—her fingers twitched.
Again, Hixx opens her mouth to scream at Wol-
SWIP! Wolf’s hand shot up…
Deep into Hixx’s mouth!
Hixx’s eyes bulged… as Wolf’s hand lodges itself into Hixx’s gullet!
THE DEVILLOCK!
JC: Oh my GOD! Grisly maneuver from Sarah Wolf!
BG: Grisly but effective!
Indeed, Hixx’s aching legs immediately cave from the shock of Wolf’s counter… She ends up back on the mat!
Wolf only shoves deeper in response to Hixx’s caving in… As if she’s trying to turn her throat inside out!
BG: Wolf has her Devillock maneuver locked in TIGHT! This one is almost certainly over!
JC: …No way. Hixx is STILL trying to fight out!
…Hixx’s hand reaches out to grab Wolf’s shoulder, trying to pull her opponent’s hand out…
….But, diabolically, Wolf twists her hand! Mangling Hixx’s throat!
Hixx’s arms trembled! Her knees buckle…
Hixx gasped—but no sound came out.
…
The official reaches for Hixx’s arm to check for a knockout…
But Wolf only digs her arm deeper into Hixx’s throat!
JC: Jesus Christ! It’s over already! Wolf has it won, just let the ref count it!
BG: Wolf isn’t going for the win, she’s going to inflict a LIFETIME OF PAIN on the Storm!
Seeing Wolf’s sadism on display, the official opts to preserve Hixx’s career, rather than wait for a three count!
DING DING DING!
WINNER: SARAH WOLF
BG: A surprisingly entertaining match, but one that the conclusion was never in doubt! Sarah Wolf is just t-
JC: FOR GOD’S SAKE, GET HER OFF!
Despite being declared the winner, Wolf’s fingers remained in Hixx’s mouth.
The official starts a count post-match, telling Wolf to break the hold!
Wolf’s eyes spark intriguedly, watching as the last shudder left her opponent’s body…
…Hixx splays out lifelessly.
Only then does Wolf withdraw her hand.
JC: Ohhhhh, I think I’m gonna be sick… That was awful…
BG: Awfully impressive, you mean, Jacko! Hixx has pulled off some major upsets in her career, for certain. But Sarah Wolf proved tonight that Hixx isn’t even in her league! Who will Wolf hunt next?
JC: With such a loaded card for this year's Ides, we’re going to go right along into our next match!
BG: You can say that again, Jackie. We should be getting paid double for the work we’re putting in tonight!
JC: You’ll have to take that up with management after the show, Brody. But for now, we still have plenty more work to do.
BG: Right.
JC: Up next, we’ll see Second Generation Star Solomon Kline take on the UGWC Legend and former XWF Tag Team Champion in Lucy Wylde!
"Forgotten" by The Plot In You plays throughout the arena. The lights go out. Once the beat drops, a spotlight shines on the entryway, where SOLOMON KLINE appears inside the light, clad in a black hoodie over his ring gear and kneeling on his right knee. As the lyrics come in, he stands, removes his hood and surveys the crowd as sparks rain down around him. He grooves his way toward the ring, and high fives fans along the way. He circles the ring and slides under the bottom rope. He continues rocking out to the song and at the 1:50 mark, he goes to the turnbuckle with a primal scream as the lyrics say "I have spent my life chasing things that have only brought me pain. In the end when I'm dead, hope it was for something!"
BG: Solomon looks as determined as ever, Jackie. Both he and Lucy are looking to turn their fortunes around tonight.
JC: Kline, of course, just had two disappointing defeats in a row at Savage and Anarchy. But both were great efforts on his part. Nothing to be ashamed of.
BG: Not at all. But I do understand the frustration. Solomon Kline would like nothing more than to prove his worth in the XWF and have the results to back it up. Right now, though, he’s got to feel like a James Shark smelling blood in the water. Tonight most certainly could be the turnaround he so desperately needs.
JC: Well, let’s agree to disagree. I don’t necessarily think Kline needs to win here tonight to prove anything. The XWF faithful can see Kline’s improvement by leaps and bounds every night, with every performance.
BG: Confidence is key, Jackie. You gotta strike while the iron is hot. Solomon knows this is his chance, right here, right now and it’s one he’s not going to miss!
The arena goes black. The opening chords of "Undead" by Hollywood Undead blare over the Arena PA system. One by one, spotlights around the arena begin fading in and out, alternating between a bright white and deep purple tones. As the bass line kicks into its highly recognized bone jarring chorus the spotlights sync their flashing with the rhythm. Suddenly the spotlights all turn at once, illuminating the stage in a brilliant flash and a radiating glow. Lucy Wylde steps out from behind the curtain onto center stage just as the crowd begins to cheer and sing along with the song...
UNDEAD!!!!!
UNDEAD!!!!!
UNDEAD!!!!!
UNDEAD!!!!!
As the verse begins, Lucy begins walking towards the ring, a big smile on her face as she moves from side to side along the aisle - slapping the hands of the fans as she goes. She gets to ringside and runs up the ring steps, climbing into the ring and ascending the far turnbuckle, raising her arms into the air. She pulls a pair of fingerless leather gloves from her back pocket and puts them on, one by one. Her music begins to fade into the background of the cheers of the fans. Once both gloves are tight, she clenches both fists and jumps down from the turnbuckle, awaiting the opening bell.
JC: And speaking of opportunities, here’s his opponent tonight, Lucy Wylde!
BG: No disrespect intended, but the last time we saw Lucy she was on the wrong end of an upset when she was bounced out of the first round of the Ides tournament.
JC: Yeah. Tropical Punch really came out of nowhere and caught Lucy severely off-guard.
BG: Exactly. She knows it. And she knows that Solomon Kline knows it. Lucy hasn’t had the best of luck since losing the Tag Team titles back at Snow Holds Barred, and she might be just as desperate to turn things around as Kline is.
JC: True. I feel like Lucy has the experience to know the ups and downs of the business and how to ride out the tough times. But I agree.
BG: No time like the present to right the ship. Unfortunately for both Wylde and Kline, only one of them can leave Ides with the pay per view victory check!
JC: And we’re going to find out who has the grit, skill, and determination tol pick up that winner's check… right now!
DING DING DING!
Solomon Kline
- vs -
Lucy Wylde
After the opening bell Kline and Wylde circle the center of the ring and lock up in a traditional collar and elbow starter. Kline takes control with a wristlock, using his height for leverage. Wylde checks her options, before rolling through and kipping up and reversing the wristlock. She manipulates the arm into a hammerlock, and transitions into a standing side headlock.
JC: Solid wrestling opener so far. Feels like they’re feeling each other out.
BG: It’s obvious that both Wylde and Kline have respect for the other's abilities. Kline knows how dangerous Wylde can be at all times.
JC: And Wylde knows she’s giving up quite the size, weight, and age advantage here.
Kline attempts a belly to back suplex counter, but the savvy veteran turns her hips to block. Solomon searches for an out, and finds it when he shoves Lucy off into the ropes. She bounds off and leaps over a body trip attempt. Bouncing off of the far ropes, Wylde meets Kline with a head of speed and Kline ducks under for a back body drop, but Lucy counters that with a sunset flip! She tries to pull Kline down for the pin, but he reaches down with both arms and yanks her right back up to her feet.
BG: Did he just-
JC: Yep, I saw it too, Brody.
BG: He literally picked her up off of the mat with both hands and set her right back down onto her feet!
JC: The Detroit born “Boy Who Lived” is no slouch in the strength department!
Kline follows up with a hip toss, but Wylde flips through it and lands on her feet. Lucy tries to counter with a hip toss of her own, but Kline blocks it. He pops her up into the air where Wylde counters with a flying headscissors takedown… no! Kline shows his own athleticism as he cartwheels through and lands on his feet! The two square off once more in the center of the ring, but stop for a moment as the crowd offers them both a round of applause.
JC: Listen to the show of respect from our fans here in Stratford-Upon-Avon!
BG: Always love to see two completely different skill sets balance out each other’s strengths and weaknesses, Jackie.
With an acknowledgement from both competitors, they go right back at it, once again locking up in the center of the ring. Wylde quickly shifts behind Kline with a standing switch, and once more looks for the headlock but Kline’s expecting it. He ducks and now takes Wylde with a rear wastelock. He runs her to the ropes and tries to pull her back, but Wylde holds on and Solomon rolls backward empty handed. Wylde charges him with a clothesline attempt but Kline ducks it, catches her with a stunning dropkick, and then quickly drops her with a massive Blue Thunder Bomb that rocks the Royal Shakespeare Theatre!
JC: That had to hurt!
BG: I haven’t seen Lucy get bounced that hard since she was bounced out in the first round of the tournament-
JC: Brody!
BG: What? It’s true. Perhaps part of Wylde’s recent struggles involve punching up above her weight class.
JC: Oh, I thought you meant something else.
BG: What did you think I meant?
Wylde clutches her lower back as she rolls over onto her stomach and crawls toward the nearest corner. Kline is right there on the offensive. Hard Irish whip sends Wylde back first into the opposite turnbuckles. She staggers out towards an on rushing Kline who charges with a spear! But Wylde leapfrogs it and Kline catches a mouthful of the middle turnbuckle instead! He staggers back out toward the center of the ring where Wylde charges the ropes, handsprings into them, and comes flying back with a twisting spinning heel kick she calls the Mindblow!
JC: There’s that typical Wylde offense we’re used to seeing!
BG: After seeing that, If I’m Solomon, I’m considering taking this match back to pure wrestling. When Lucy is allowed to flip and fly is where she gets truly dangerous.
She hooks the leg for the cover-
One!
Solomon powers out rather quickly!
JC: Quick kickout there. No surprise.
Wylde now locks in a reverse chinlock, hoping to stall and take some of the oxygen out of Kline who is just about twice her size. But this hold doesn’t last long enough for the referee to even ask before Kline is working his way back to his feet. Once up, he nails Wylde in the gut with a few elbow strikes to loosen the hold.
BG: Starting to see strategies play out here, Jackie.
JC: Odd move by Wylde to slow the pace of the match back down… it may be costing her.
BG: She may be setting up something for later, though. Kline needs to be careful here.
He charges the ropes but Lucy is right there to catch him on the turn with a snap leg lariat. The impact doesn’t take Kline fully off of his feet, however, as he stumbles back into the ropes. Wylde moves to him to capitalize, but Kline once more ducks down with the back body drop attempt, and spills the former Tag Team Champion over onto the ring apron.
JC: Ooh, he almost dropped her down on her head!
BG: She still hit the ring apron pretty hard, which we all know is the hardest part of the ring. Minus the unprotected turnbuckles… the ring posts… the steel frame beneath…
JC: We get the picture!
A hand on the ropes is all that stopped Lucy from landing neck first on the floor. But as she turns Kline catches her with a short clothesline that drops her down onto the apron itself. Kline charges the opposite ropes and bounds off with a full head of steam, slamming into Lucy with a baseball slide to the gut which shoots her off of the ring apron and hard down onto the floor!
BG: Now that’s how you do a baseball slide, Jackie. Perfect aim, full momentum, and a perfect result.
Kline slides under the ropes to follow. He grabs Lucy up, who is now clutching her ribs, and hits her with a knife edge chop on the ringside floor. The referee warns them to get back into the ring. Kline goes for a second chop, but Lucy ducks it. He turns but Wylde drills him in the breadbasket with the point of her knee. She slides back into the ring.
JC: Always got to watch out for the ring out disqualifications here.
BG: Hopefully not. I don’t think either of these two fighters would be satisfied with a count-out win or a double-dq. Hopefully Ref lets this one play out.
JC: Well, Kline’s been in so many triple threats and fatal four ways that it’s probably a nice change of pace for him to have to keep the action inside the ring.
Wylde turns to locate Kline but the second generation superstar is already back up onto the ring apron. Wylde attempts a forearm but Kline blocks it, grabs Lucy by the back of her head, and drops her neck first down across the top rope, all two-hundred and twenty-five pounds of his body weight, too!
BG: Ooh… snake eyes guillotine throat first.
JC: Wylde slipped a little bit there which is uncharacteristic of her. Can Solomon Kline capitalize?
Wylde snaps back and lands on her back in the center of the ring, clutching her throat with both hands. Kline steps through the ropes and lands a massive hammer drop elbow to Lucy’s forehead, giving her something else to think about.
Kline presses Lucy’s shoulders to the mat-
One!
Two!
Lucy kicks out after the two count.
JC: Two count after the hammer elbow there.
BG: Good work following up with the pin. Make her expend energy. Give Lucy something to think about.
Kline stays on the offensive, pulling Lucy up and immediately executing a standing switch. With the rear waistlock, he pops his hips and drills Wylde with a German suplex! But he keeps his grip. He floats his legs over and pulls his opponent back up with him as well, only to hit her with a second german suplex! Rolling Germans in motion now, he floats his legs a third time and rolls a weary Wylde back to her feet and hits a third German Suplex, this time with a bridge!
BG: Rolling Germans!
JC: Bridge! Her shoulders are down, ref!
One!
Two!
Wylde kicks her shoulder up off of the mat at two and three-quarters!
JC: Oooh, so close!
Lucy’s still in this, but between her ribs and her throat, she’s clearly working for the wind out there. Kline pulls Lucy back up to her feet and hooks her arm over his head. He yanks her up for a Vertical suplex, but Wylde spins at the top of the move and lands on her feet behind Kline! With the waistlock she pulls him back into a roll-up pin!
One!
Two!
Wylde nearly stole one there! Two and seven-eights before Kline could power out!
JC: She almost had him with that backside rollup-
BG: Once more, Klines power on display. Well, not just his power, but his desire, too.
JC: I think both competitors are really putting it all out there for the fans tonight!
The kickout sends Lucy stumbling off into the ropes. Kline pushes himself back up to his feet, and charges. He’s looking for a running big boot but Wylde ducks it and pulls the top rope down with her, and Solomon is sent stumbling over the ropes and smacks down hard on the floor mats below. Seeing her opportunity, Wylde hypes up the crowd, before bounding off of the far ropes and goes flipping over the ropes with a corkscrew tiger drop… the Meteor Strike!
JC: Meteor Strike… No!
But Kline catches her out of midair!
He throws her off of his shoulders and Wylde lands on her feet! But the moment she turns to face Kline, Boom! Superkick right to the jawline!
JC: What a counter!
BG: Impressive!
Kline has to pull Lucy up and shove her back into the ring himself. He takes the stairs up to the corner where he ascends the turnbuckles. A staggered Wylde pushes herself up off of the mat and stumbles back to her feet. She turns only to take a flying double-ax handle smash to the forehead from the top rope! Kline hooks the leg for the cover!
One!
Two!
Thr-No! Wylde rolls her shoulder up!
BG: Did he get- no? Oh boy, that was close.
JC: I’ll say. Really digging deep and pulling out the old school with that flying double ax handle. It caught Lucy flush!
BG: If it works, use it!
Kline checks with the referee to make sure that it wasn’t a three before turning his attention back to his opponent. This may have cost him, however, as Wylde is able to throw a few forearm shots into the ribcage of Kline upon standing. Wylde attempts a Wylde Liberation RKO out of nowhere, but Solomon shoves her off!
JC: Cutter blocked!
She turns and Kline goozles her by the neck. He lifts her up! Chokeslam… no! Wylde spins out and lands on her feet. She immediately pops back and catches him with a corkscrew pele… Fury Brand!
BG: My goodness, Jackie!
Kline crashes down to the mat and Wylde falls on top of him for the cover-
One!
Two!
Thr-NO!
Solomon Kline kicks out just before the referee’s hand would have slammed down for the three, refusing to lose here tonight!
BG: Kickout!
JC: Kline absolutely refuses to lose!
Both competitors now showing weariness from the match, make their way back to their feet at relatively the same time. They share delayed forearm strikes, one after the other, taking turns with the fans here following along with each strike. Finally, Lucy ducks the last forearm shot and delivers a spinning heel kick that drops Solomon down onto his back. Solomon then pops right back up and drills Wylde with a massive leaping forearm he calls the Ashes to Ashes!
BG: HUGE forearm! This could be it!
Kline hooks both legs for the cover!!!
ONE!
TWO!
THR-NOO!!!
Lucy Wylde somehow manages to kick out at the last possible moment!
JC: Now it’s Lucy Wylde’s turn to refuse to lose, apparently!
BG: Unbelievable. These two are putting on an absolute clinic.
Kline isn’t making the same mistake again. He immediately pulls Wylde up, albeit with a bit of frustration etched on his face. He knees her in the midsection and yanks her down into a standing headscissor. He yanks her up, looking for a vicious powerbomb, but Wylde counters with a hurricanrana… however… Kline rolls right through the impact with a Mexican roll that sends him right back to his feet. Wylde doesn’t expect it at all when Solomon catches her with a second superkick!
Wylde staggers about stunned!
JC: Superkick connects!
Kline comes up behind and hooks her arms for the Vertebreaker… the Dust to Dust!
BG: It’s going to be all over, Jackie!
He pulls Wylde up onto his back, but she flips back onto her feet, shoving Kline off!
JC: Counter!
He turns right into a Wylde Liberation RKO!!!
Wylde falls down on top of him for the cover-
ONE!
TWO!!
THRE-NO!!!
SOLOMON KLINE KICKS OUT OF THE WYLDE LIBERATION!
BG: How.. in.. the.. Hell?
JC: Solomon Kline just kicked out of the Wylde Liberation!
BG: He said he wasn’t going to go down easily, and by God, the second generation Kline is making good on that promise!
It takes Lucy a while to pull herself back to her feet, with Kline still down on the ground. She reaches down for him, but he catches her with a kick to the ribs! Wylde stumbles backward just enough for Kline to kip back up! ASHES TO ASHES!
BG: Ashes to Ash-!
NO!
Wylde catches Kline with a SECOND WYLDE LIBERATION!
JC: Countered!
BG: Oh my God, ANOTHER Wylde Liberation!
COVER!
ONE!
TWO!!
THREE!!!
WINNER: LUCY WYLDE
JC: Wow! What an incredible contest! The fans here at Shakespeare Theatre are standing on their feet giving Wylde and Kline a round of applause!
BG: Well deserved, Jackie. Damn well deserved. I feel bad for Kline, who literally gave it everything that he had, but I can’t think of anyone in the back that would be able to kick out in that situation.
JC: It was impressive enough that he kicked out of the one. But when Lucy connected with the second Wylde Liberation cutter, the writing was on the wall.
BG: And now Lucy gets to celebrate a massive pay per view victory to put her back on the right track.
JC: Absolutely. Lucy Wylde stands victorious over Solomon Kline here tonight, and if she gets hot, look out. With a bit of confidence and a stroke of luck, there’s nothing that Wylde couldn’t accomplish in an XWF ring.
JC: Up next, Brody… we have what might be one of the, if not THE most star-studded Tag Team Championship match in recent history!
BG: Recent history? Forget it. We’ve got Game Girl, Scoops McGee, Corey Black and Larry Tact! Four of the biggest, most talented stars in our industry today are all set to do battle with OUR XWF Tag Team Champions… Madison Dyson and Dolly Waters!
JC: Tables. Ladders. Chair. We’re all set for some high-drama here in the royal theater!
Game Girl and Scoops appear together on the ramp, standing shoulder by shoulder. Without looking at one another, they give each other five before marching down to the ring, each taking a turnbuckle and amping up the crowd
"In the Face of Evil" by Magic Sword reverberates over the PA. Row after row, aisle to aisle, fans rise from their seats throughout the arena and cheer, knowing one of their workhorses is about to appear!
As the second, third, and fourth chords of the theme reverberate, three spotlights shine down, one over another: A green circle, a gold triangle over it, and a crimson line intersecting the other two. On the Tron, his monikers cycle through one after another:
TACTILIZING ONE
GAME CHANGER
LIMIT BREAKER
From there, the beat triggers the house lights to illuminate the figure of Larry Tact standing on stage. He's looking down as he hones in for the battle ahead.
After a few seconds, Tact whips his head up and trudges to one side of the stage, firing up the fans by pointing towards different sections. He goes to the other side of the stage and beats his chest with a hand before opening his arms to the reaction of the crowd. "THIS IS YOUR SPOTLIGHT!" Larry bellows as the audience hoots and hollers back. He returns to center stage and points to either side of the crowd. The lights cut out except for green, gold, and crimson spotlights highlighting the audience in attendance. Larry makes his way down to the ring, pounding fists with some fans at ringside before hanging onto the middle rope and pulling himself up onto the apron.
Facing the stands, he opens his arms up and puffs his chest out to receive the feverish energy of his supporters. Wiping his boots on the apron, Tact proceeds into the ring. He climbs a turnbuckle and again holds his arms out. “BEST GAME WINS!!!” he exclaims to another pop before descending and making his final preparations for the match… waiting for his partner
The lights in the arena fade slowly to black. The opening tones of "I Would Die 4 U" by Prince and The Revolution blast from the PA, sending the crowd to their feet. They scream out the lyrics as Corey Black emerges from the back, walking out onto the stage with intent, bathed in a white light while purple ones circle the arena. He is wearing a hooded dark denim vest that has metal band patches all over it and a large Pantheon logo back patch. Corey stands at the top of the ramp, looking out into the frenzy of dancing and singing attendees, nodding his approval. He makes his way down the ramp, taking his time to survey the landscape around him and get himself a good look at the ring before him. As he reaches it, Corey slides in under the bottom rope and pops to his feet, unleashing a roar and throwing the devil horns into the air toward the hard cam. He takes the vest off and drops it to ringside before heading to his corner, lapping hands with Larry Tact as he and his partner take the corner opposite from Game Girl and Scoops waiting for the….
SUDDENLY!
Anton Dovrak’s 9th blares through the speakers with a heavy metal bend.
Deliberately moving from behind the curtains are Dolly Waters and Madison Dyson. Each of their faces setting hard on their challengers in the ring. The tag team champions share a brief nod to one another before confidently marching to the ring. They slide under the bottom opes, each taking a corner of the ring and raising their gold into the air.
They hands the titles off to the official who secures them in the cable hanging from the rafters.
The titles are now suspended nearly twenty feet in the air and…
The bell rings, and Scoops IMMEDIATELY lunges like a bat out of Hell for Madison Dyson!
JC: Woah! Scoops McGee wasting very little time here early on!
BG: I think that might be the fastest that old coot has been moving in years!
Madison shrieks as she quickly rolls out of the ring and onto the rest of the stage with Scoops in hot pursuit! The two start racing around the ring as Maddy’s trying her best to keep away from the rampaging lunatic!
Dolly sees what’s going on and tries to roll out of the ring to help! But Game Girl quickly lunges forward, tugging her back to face her! A straight right to the face gets followed by a roundhouse to the body, and then a low sweep! Game Girl quickly grabs Dolly, the two of them exchanging some blows…
BUT IN COMES COREY BLACK AND LARRY TACT! The two take advantage of the duo’s distractions, with Corey delivering a hard running forearm to the side of Game Girl’s head and Tact wrenching Dolly away so that he could hit a short-arm clothesline!
JC: That’s a Triple Threat match for you! Black and Tact have so much experience together, you can’t afford to take your eyes off of them even for a second, or they’ll make you pay for it!
BG: And on that, we agree, Jack! Just because this is a tag match doesn’t change the basics at the end of the day… even if a TLC match is anything but basic.
On the outside of the ring, Scoops is still chasing Madison around the ring! They’re running laps around it together, and Scoops is still trying to run with a full head of steam as Madison is looking over her shoulder to see!
BG: This might be the most energy I’ve seen Scoops have in a wrestling ring… ever. And he’s wasting it on running around the ring.
JC: I don’t think it’s wrong to want to have a measure of payback after what happened on Anarchy just a short while ago, Brody.
Madison has to think fast, and elects to crawl under the ring to escape Scoops! The old man gawks at the sight, before gingerly getting onto all fours. He winces, quietly complaining about his bad knees as he starts to crawl underneath…
JC: Can we… can we get a camera underneath there? We have no idea what those two are doing!
BG: Would it really matter if we could, Jack? It’s dark as hell underneath!
It doesn’t take long however for the apron curtains to shift again as Maddy crawls out from underneath the ring on the other side, continuing to crawl forward and bring herself off the stage as she comes to the nearest seating area! She practically rips a fan dressed in a light blue woolen dress out of her seat, just so she could snatch the steel chair for herself!
Scoops crawls out from underneath the ring-
CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!
The steel chair bounces off of Scoops’ head as he flops down prone, eyes glassy from the impact!
BG: Yeah, that’s gonna give him a concussion… what the hell’s one more for the road for him, am I right, Jack?
Maddy quickly gets another fan out of their seat, this one wearing a brown vest and a beige long-sleeved shirt, as she gets the chair ready again and throws it at Scoops as well!
CRACK!
Another chair!
CRACK!
Another chair!
CRACK!
Another chair!
CRACK!
JC: She’s insane! She’s trying to kill the man!
BG: She’s trying to take out the trash!
Maddy comes back onto the stage, taking one of the chairs that were strewn about all over the place-
ONLY FOR COREY BLACK TO SEND DOLLY WATERS RIGHT OUT OF THE RING AND ONTO HER! Both girls get taken down and have to scramble back onto their feet as they look inside the ring! Madison looks eager to try and make her way back inside, but Dolly places a hand on her shoulder and whispers into her ear, relaying some tactical advice. The two look at each other, nodding while they stalk the ring.
Scoops is slow to stir, but elsewhere in the ring, it’s a two-on-one situation! Game Girl is caught in between both Tact and Black, and she’s trying her best!
A low sweep comes right towards Larry Tact, knocking him just enough off-balance so that Game Girl could rise up with a jumping uppercut to take him into the air! She tries kicking him-
BUT COREY GRABS HER OUT OF MID-AIR FOR A GERMAN! SUUUUUUUUUUPLEX! Game Girl gets dropped right on her head as Tact scrambles back, the two of them looking together at each other! They pick up Game Girl, with a double gut to the boot ensuing before they pick her up…
DOUBLE VERTICAL SUPLEX!
JC: Black and Tact may be a team thrown together here, but they’re operating like a well-oiled machine in that ring!
BG: The power of veteran wit and experience coming through together!
BUT THAT LEAVES THEM OPEN FOR MADISON AND DOLLY TO COME IN WITH STEEL CHAIRS! They crack them right across Black and Tact’s backs, laying them out and onto all fours before they continue raining down shots!
JC: Looks like we know what Dolly was telling Madison on the outside…
BG: I love it! Pick your moments! Lay out your opponents! Clear the field and make it all the easier for you and your partner to capture the gold!
Dyson takes the rim of the chair and begins to drive it down on the throat of Corey Black, trying to choke the life out of him! He squirms underneath the pressure of the chair, gagging and trying to reach for salvation! Dyson keeps applying more pressure…
But Dolly taps Dyson on the shoulder! She lets her know that everyone else is laid out! This is their chance! Dyson releases, and the two nod at each other as Dolly rolls out of the ring and grabs the ladder at ringside!
JC: Look at how enormous that ladder is! That’s twelve feet of steel right there, ladies and gentlemen! You better hope and pray that you’re not the one getting thrown off the top!
Dolly rolls back in and sets up the ladder right in the middle of the ring! The two nod at each other, and Madison begins to climb up the rungs! A giddy look is on her face as Dolly quickly scans the ring, trying to play defense…
…just as she sees a blip of blue light escape out of the corner of her eye.
⇧ ⇧ ⇩ ⇩ ⇦ ⇨ ⇦ ⇨ B A
> Fast Travel
Game Girl manages to slip past Dolly right to the opposite end of the ladder! She grabs it by the bottom rung as Maddy’s eyes widen in horror! GG starts running forward, lifting the side of the ladder as she does so as Maddy has to jump off while halfway up! The ring ropes are what await her, delivering a Stun Gun onto her as she gets laid out!
Dolly locks eyes with Game Girl again, and the fight is back on! Punch after punch gets delivered! The former War Games teammates have their passion spilling over as they try to fight for the tag team gold! Neither one is giving an inch!
Larry Tact is on his feet though, and he’s heated! He comes through to try for a double lariat, but both girls duck underneath! Tact turns around - HUGE double knife-edge chop lights his chest up like a Christmas tree! He yelps from the sudden, sharp pain before giving a forearm to Dolly! And a knife-edge chop of his own to Game Girl!
But Dolly responds with a roundhouse kick to Tact’s sternum! And a knee to the gut of Game Girl! BUT WAIT! Game Girl catches the knee, tries to grab Dolly again to throw her into Tact, but they’re struggling! Dolly’s trying not to let herself go! Tact grabs her by the face and tries to throw another forearm, but Dolly throws another sharp punch to the sternum!
JC: It’s like a tug-of-war in there, Brody!
But wait! On the outside still is Scoops McGee, getting a table set up at ringside as he checks to make sure it’s sturdy! He taps it twice, making sure it’s ready to go as he gets onto the ring apron…
And Corey Black is there to try and meet him at the pass! He hits Scoops with an open-palmed strike that threatens to take him off of the apron as he dangles off of the ropes! The table is staring back at him as he tries to keep himself steady!
Scoops roars back to pull himself up, planting a headbutt right between the eyes that drops Corey to a knee with blood trickling out!
BG: What the- how hard is that geezer’s head?! He should be giving himself a concussion at this rate!
JC: Well, desperate times call for desperate measures when you’re hanging over a table, Brody…
BG: I think it looks like Scoops only made Corey angrier!
Corey jumps up, delivering forearm after forearm right towards Scoops! Scoops is forced to stagger back, having the brakes beaten off of him as Corey continues to deliver the punishment! Scoops is only barely hanging on now as he sees that he’s nearing the table!
Corey backs up a bit, rubbing the blood out of his eyes as he proceeds to take a running lunge towards Scoops!
BUT SCOOPS COUNTERS WITH A BACK BODY DROP THAT SENDS COREY THROUGH THE TABLE!
THE FANS GASPS IN HORROR AS ONE SHOUTS “Zounds!”
JC: Corey Black just went flying through the air! It’s a miracle he didn’t fall off the stage there!
BG: Hey, Corey’s no spring chicken either, Jack! He can’t be taking too many bumps like that!
Scoops brings himself back into the ring with a sigh, just as Madison Dyson comes to and tries to bash the ladder right to him! Scoops grabs the end of the ladder, holding his ground as he tries to push forward! Maddy realizes her mistake as she keeps backing up, but this brings her to the corner with the bottom end of the ladder pressing right into her!
Scoops slowly advances along the side of the ladder, looking to try and bring the hurt on, but he’s attacked from behind by Dolly Waters who managed to bring herself out of the three-way struggle in the middle of the ring!
Game Girl tries her best to come in for the assist, but Tact manages to snake his arms in behind her for a FULL NELSON SLAM!
Both Dolly and Madison are laying down some heavy punches and kicks to try and bring Scoops down, but he manages to straighten himself! A back elbow creates some separation for him from Dolly, and Scoops gives Madison a HUGE knife-edge chop!
JC: Chops for everyone tonight, it looks like!
BG: You can hear these shits echoing around the entire theatre!
Madison screeches like a banshee as Scoops collided with her, taking her down to her knees as Scoops looks to pull her up, eyeing the fallen ladder! HERE HE GOES - SCOOP SLAM-!
DOLLY TAKES SCOOPS DOWN WITH A CHOP BLOCK! Madison slips out from behind, her face pale as a ghost as she nods to Dolly! Both girls stand up as they try to grab the ladder - but Larry Tact is quicker to grab the ladder as he looks at them both!
AND SMACKS THEM BOTH WITH THE LADDER THAT SENDS THEM TUMBLING OUT OF THE RING!
Corey Black finally staggers his way back into the ring, seeing the fallen Scoops as he and Tact nod at each other! They talk out strategy, with Black putting the boots to Scoops to keep him down as Tact grabs the ladder! He wedges it between the top and middle rope in the corner, making sure it’s in place as both he and Black hoist Scoops up-
DOUBLE STUN GUN ONTO THE LADDER! Scoops’ nose gets squashed onto the metal as he staggers back and onto his rear end!
JC: Talk about payback, Brody, these are two guys who know how to keep a grudge close to their chest! You spit in their face, they’ll make sure you regret it!
BG: That’s how they managed to survive in this business so long, though, Jack! They’re on practically opposite ends of the spectrum here, but opposites attract!
Scoops, wearily, manages to raise a middle finger to flip off both Tact and Black as they come towards him! Tact scoffs at the display before stomping Scoop right on his face to bring him back down onto the mat!
The two talk to each other again, bringing Scoops right back up and kicking him in the gut to double him over, before they hoist him onto their shoulders! Scoops is high up in the air as the crowd begin to realize what’s coming! They go for a DOUBLE POWERBOMB-
GAME GIRL HOPS UP TO YOINK SCOOPS OFF OF THEIR SHOULDERS IN TIME!
JC: Just in the nick of time! Scoops could have broken his back if he hit the ladder there!
BG: Maybe he should take a broken back instead of trying to kill himself later…
Scoops falls onto all fours as both Black and Tact turn their attention to Game Girl! She stretches her arm out, and a bright glow emanates around the theater as she brings it to her palm, manifesting into her WARHAMMER!
Tact and Black both gawk at the arrival of the weapon, but they try to rush her!
GG ducks underneath an attempted lariat by Black, and as Tact tries to lunge in with a straight right, GG responds by bringing the Warhammer into Tact’s fist! He yelps in pain as he has to hold onto his fist gingerly to make sure she didn’t break anything! Tact doesn’t get the chance for a breather though as GG whacks him atop the head and proceeds to yank him in close!
Black tries to come up from behind, and GG sees her chance! She spins with the Hammer, carrying both of them with it as she’s quickly racking up damage throughout! She halts in her path, sending both of them flying, but she notices Dolly Waters creeping up onto the apron! GG quickly throws the hammer right at Dolly’s sternum and takes her right off the apron and to ringside! GG calls the hammer right back to her-
ONLY FOR MADISON DYSON TO SNAG IT OUT OF MID-AIR!
BG: REFLEXES LIKE A DAMN CAT, JACK!
JC: Dyson was lying in wait as soon as she saw that hammer come out, Brody!
Game Girl reflexively steps back as Dyson enters the equation, twirling the hammer around in her hands. Game Girl is determined not to give up even an inch though, taking a runner’s stance and letting blue energy envelop her body as she rushes forward into the Shift-Slide!
GG rushes straight for Dyson who tries to swing the hammer horizontally to take her head off of her body, but GG ducks and rolls underneath! Dyson turns around just as Game Girl is already moving again, zipping and zooming off of the ropes as she’s trying to pick her mark! Around and around she goes, Dyson trying her best to keep up with everything that’s been going on as she grips the hammer with everything she’s got…
AND SHE SEES GG RUSHING FORWARD!
SHE SWINGS THE HAMMER JUST AS GG THROWS A PUNCH!
FWOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH!
BRIGHT BLUE SPARKS OF ENERGY DANCE AND CRACKLE AROUND THE ARENA!
BG: Where’s my popcorn?! Shakespeare should have tried to handle his fights like this!
JC: I dunno if I’d be saying that, Brody, but this is insane! The fans need to get back and hope that none of these sparks actually hit them!
The singing electricity stops just short of hitting the fans, but the struggle for power continues between Dyson and GG! They keep going… and going… and going…
BEFORE DYSON BRINGS THE HAMMER BACK AND SLIDES OUT OF THE WAY! GAME GIRL’S STRIKE GOES WIDE AS SHE’S STUNNED-
CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!
A SICKENING SHOT WITH THE WARHAMMER ECHOES AROUND THE THEATRE AS GAME GIRL GETS CLOBBERED! AND SENT FLYING OUT OF THE RING! CRASHING INTO THE THEATER STAGE!
Dyson turns just seeing Dolly gather to bring the ladder up in the center of the mat. She drops the weapon and proceeds to assist.
JC: This might be it, Brody! The tag champs are in prime position to close this one out!
BG: This team is undeniable, JC. Dyson and Waters are built for moments like these!
The ladder is sitting up on all four legs now. Dolly and Madison nod to one another. Dolly makes her ascent from the front on one side, as Madison scooches up backward on her rear on the other side.
But before Dolly is even half way up, Corey Black has recovered. He rushes in and starts muscling over the ladder!
Madison quickly jumps down and starts attacking - - - BUT IT’S TOO LATE!!!
COREY HAS KNOCKED THE LADDER OVER!
DOLLY LEAPS UP!!!!
SHE BARELY WRAPS HER ARMS AROUND THE CHAMPIONSHIPS!
JC: OH MY, BRODY! DOLLY IS HANGING ON FOR DEAR LIFE HERE!
BG: TWENTY-FIVE-SOME-ODD FEET ABOVE THE RING AND NOTHING THERE TO BREAK HER FALL BUT HER BONES!
Down below, Madison throws a roundhouse at Corey’s head, but Black dodges! He side steps and SUPERKICKS MADISON IN THE KNEE!!!!!
Her legs are taken out, as she’s leaning precariously on her knees on the mat.
Black hits the ropes….
SWINGING ELBOW TO THE BACK OF DYSON’S HEAD!
JC: THE BEHEADING!!!!! COREY BLACK MIGHT’VE JUST KILLED DYSON!
Just before…
BG: OOOOOOOOOOOO MY GOD!!!!!!
SCOOPS WITH A RUNNING CHAIR SHOT
THE SEAT BURSTS OUT OF THE FRAME AS IT WRAPS AROUND COREY’S NECK!!!!
Corey is standing, wobbling, his eyes looking into another universe, as he sways on his feet like a Mortal Kombat victim awaiting a fatality.
FINISH HIM!!!!!!!
BIG SCOOP SLA- - - -
STAR POWER!!!!!!!
OUT OF NOWHERE, LARRY TACT PLANTS SCOOPS WITH THE POWERBOMB BACKSTABBER!
THE CROWD ROARS!!!!
Larry Tact looks ready to move on a victory - - -WHEN - - -!
DOLLY WATERS
JC: SHE’S SLIPPING!
SHE LEAPS OFF!
THROWING AN ELBOW OUT MID AIR!
AND CRASHES INTO LARRY, AND ON TOP OF SCOOPS AND COREY!
JC: Brody, that’s one of the most death defying moves I’ve ever witnessed calling matches in the XWF!
BG: There’s no coming back from that! All Dolly can hope now is that Dyson can recover enough to retain their titles!
But off in the distance we don’t see Dyson rising, rather it’s GAME GIRL!
She struggles to her feet, her face setting hard and determined, observing the damage in the ring. Suddenly she darts. Moving so fast it looks like instant transmission. Shes in the ring, and checks on Scoop’s briefly. He’s okay, but there’s no helping him up now. She moves over to the ladder and quickly positions it in the center of the mat.
AND GAME GIRL IS CLIMBING TO THE TOP!
JC: Game Girl is all alone here, Brody! THIS IS IT!
SHE”S GOT EM!!!!
BG: NEW TAG CHAMP- - - S WHATS THIS!!@!@!!????!!@@!!
DARTING UP THE LADDER IS DOLLY WATERS!!!!!!
JC HOW IS DOLLY STILL STANDING??? LET ALONE CLIMBING!!!!
BG: SHE'S CLIMBING UP THOSE RUNGS LIKE A DAMN FIREFIGHTER!
Before Game Girl can even react to her fingers touching the gold, Dolly Waters has reached the top of the ladder, making the whole structure unsteady. Game Girl reaches down to steady the stop.
She and Dolly catch one another’s glare. Their eyes wide… and then smiling.
GG smirks and THROWS A SICK HAYMAKER AT DOLLY!!!!!!
IT JUST BARELY MISSES HER FOREHEAD!!!
Dolly steadies herself after the dodge.
Game Girl sighs, knowing it’s too late to block anything now…. She smiles and nods at Dolly, who returns the emotes and…
…AND OBLITERATES GAME GIRL WITH A HAYMAKER TO THE NOSE!
GAME GIRL GOES FLYING OFF FROM THE LADDER!!!
DOLLY PULLS DOWN THE FIRST TAG TITLE - - - AND THEN THE SECOND ONE!!!!
WINNER: and STILL XWF Tag Team Champions - - - DOLLY WATERS AND MADISON DYSON
The bell rings and Madison, with a fresh laceration on her forehead from that sick elbow from Corey Black wobbles to her feet. She smiles through the blood dripping down on her teeth and beams up at her partner atop the ladder with joy. For a second, the theater spotlights above almost paint Dolly in an angelic aura.
Madison reaches up to help Dolly down, but instead Dolly reaches down and helps pull Madison up.
JC: What an unbelievable war that was!
BG: And our XWF Tag Champions are nothing if not unbelievable, JC!
JC: Just think of the competition they withstood tonight! World class wrestling legends like Corey Black and Larry Tact. XWF veterans some of the best of the best in Game Girl and Scoops…
BG: And all four of them absolutely rocked it tonight! This was anyone’s contest!
JC: And it’s Dyson and Waters who have set themselves as part as the best of the best tag teams in our industry!
The shot closes with Miadson and Dolly clinking their tag titles together at the top of the ladder and raising them into the air.
JC: Folks don't touch that dial yet, we've got even more insane matches coming up including "The Empire" Sebastian Everett-Bryce vs "The Insurgent" Jonathan Bacchus, the King of the XWF Final between Kieran King and Aurora, and finally, the Universal Title match between James Shark and Prince Adeyemi!
OOC: Apparently this show is so big, it's crashing some people's browsers haha...
Moving the second half of the show to its own thread to see if that fixes the crashing issue...
![[-]](https://xwf99.com/images/portal2/collapse.gif)
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