RP Deadline is 11:59:59 PM PACIFIC on SATURDAY, MAY 10, 2025
All matches are 1 RP/4k unless stated otherwise.
A promo package recapping the events of XWF MAYDAY 3! At Ye’ Ole’ Commune! Plays to open the broadcast.
We’re shown clips of King Kieran’s opening remarks, laying out a challenge to the XWF roster.
We see Larry Tact’s improbable Television Title victory over Aurora
We see Mister Oz defeating The Inquisition. Sarah Wolf defeating Solomon Kline
Justin York retaining his Revolution Championship.
Sebastian Everett-Bryce’s victory over Bobby Bourbon.
The controversial finish between King Kieran and Mark Flynn.
And clips of James Shark successfully fending off the challenge of Yelena Gorgo to cap off the show, as a massive fireworks display illuminates the ecstatic million-strong spring-break crowd.
But, something… or a few somethings… were omitted from the package?
–PYRO ERUPTS INSIDE OF THE SOLD-OUT SPECTRUM CENTER IN CHARLOTTE, NORTH CAROLINA–
JC: WELCOME WRESTLING FANS TO XWF WARFARE!
A camera pans the crowd who’s at a fever-pitch
JC: My name is Jacuinde Castillo, and joining me tonight as always, the Beautiful Brody Goodman. And partner, you, and all of these fans joining us in Charlotte tonight, and all of the fans watching from around the world are absolutely on the edge of their waiting to see the fall out from MAYDAY 3!
BG: 10 brilliant matches. A million fans. And the party of a lifetime was what we just witnessed eleven days ago at Coreytopia, Florida…history was made! The most lucrative gate in the history of professional wrestling. And let me just show ya…
Brody reaches under his desk and produces a series of gold-plated trading cards. The camera does a slow, horizontal crawl across each of them: one features SEB suplexing Bourbon: another shows Tact holding the TV title: another shows James Shark soaking in victory…all while BG gives us a rundown of what we’re seeing…
BG: …you lucky folks at home, you too, can own a piece of history for yerself, by purchasing these limited edition, official, XWF MAYDAY 3! NFTs. Become a partner with XWF as our brand continues to corner and dominate the global market in professional wrestling….
The camera crawl stops, and zooms in on the final trading-card; one showing the image of the mega, corporate-sponsorship XWF logo that was erected on the commune grounds with thousands of fans pay homage to it’s symbolic showing of wrestling-exceptionalism and wealth
BG: …the most delightful thing of it all? You’ll become part-owner in XWF’s brand of financial domination by commemorating our monetary flex at Mayday 3 alongside our valued sponsors such as: Slim Jim, Amazon, Monsanto, McKenzie Group, Jordan Brand, Koch, Coke, McDonalds, Walmart, Tesla and SpaceX.
It takes a one of a kind person to amass unfettered amounts of wealth, and it takes a one of a kind company, like the XWF, to want to bring you, our most die hard fans, in on an opportunity to own a one of a kind piece of XWF history. Why fight the rich and the powerful, when you can *become* rich and powerful yourself!
JC: Well said, Brody. And speaking of power. We have one powerful show tonight for wrestling fans to sink their teeth into - - - we have the Xtreme Title on the line, as Madison Dyson defends against a returning Dionysus. We have SEB v. Enigma. Larry Tact v. Lucy Wylde in our night-cap, and so much more… needless to say, the XWF is stronger than ever, and NOTHING is going to slow us down - - -
The lights are suddenly cut-out.
Fans scream across the arena.
Access from the commentary desk to the broadcast feed is severed.
All production cameras die, besides the one generic birds-eye shot of the stadium.
Backstage, the production team is scrambling to gain control
The arena falls nearly silent, spare a buzz of confused murmurs from the crowd .
Then something organic occurs from the stands.
It’s subtle at first… like a flickering flame.
…faint…
…but unyielding…
REVOLUTION!
CLAP, CLAP, CLAP CLAP CLAP
REVOLUTION!
CLAP, CLAP, CLAP CLAP CLAP
REVOLUTION!
CLAP, CLAP, CLAP CLAP CLAP.
REVOLUTION!
The crowd in Charlotte ERUPTS!
And from under the X-Tron, right on cue, appears none other than Schism and Mark Flynn illuminated only by a barrage of cell-phone flashes from the audience.
Each of The Revolutionaries deliberately flank either side of the stage. Each carrying megaphones.
A lone camera-man is finally able to plug back into the broadcast. He goes running up the ramp, giving the world a first-person POV of a third revolutionary just as they step from behind the curtain.
Dolly Waters
Her fair-skinned face and green eyes are the only thing we see as her black-out wrestling gear keeps the rest of her body hidden like a faint silhouette in the dark arena.
She’s joined at the hip by Mark Flynn and Schism, as floodlights restore some visibility.
The three make a slow, deliberate march toward the ring. They climb through the ropes and are showered with a mostly unanimous roar of approval.
After a moment, the music and the chanting of the crowd fades into a quiet murmur, as the audience watches Flynn hand Dolly a megaphone, before bringing it to her face
We’ve all been told that this company - - - the XWF - - - was built on greatness, on honor, on power… and maybe at one time that was true…
But let's talk about the reality we face today. .
Let's talk about what the XWF today is *really* built on…
Greed.
Exploitation.
Extraction.
An oligarchy masquerading as a competitive industry steered by the collective ability of the competitors.
People today are working longer hours, for less pay. And those people deserve better than to spend their hard earned money on a wrestling ticket, just to be brought into an arena and sold more and more by the XWF’s NEW ownership…
Just look this mat… look at the apron… look at the banners all across this arena…
Amazon. Tesla. Walmart. Facebook.
What do you think those names represent? Do you think they’re in the business of selling competition? Of course not! They’re about power. Control. The arbiters of the same old system that has kept the people down for a millenia!
And those people? They want to sell YOU - - - pointing to the crowd - - - THE BIG LIE!
They want you to think that your soul has a price.They want you to believe that you can buy a piece of “history” - - - THEIR history, which they’ll rewrite when it’s financially convenient for them.
It’s a distraction, folks… that's all.
A glitzy promise that if you give up more of YOUR wealth, more of YOUR power, and more of YOUR voice over to them - - - if you just cede it to them, to this twisted oligarchy- - - that they’ll fix things for you. They’ll give you what you want. They’ll give you the wrestling you’ve asked for. But in the end, they’re negotiating the price for the very SOUL of this sport we love.
What do you think the powers that be wanted at MayDay?
A billionaire, handpicked by the system, spoon-feeding fear and hatred through subliminal rot to you, all while fighting for the Universal Championship?
Or did they want to see their symbol of corporate power go up in flames, spreading hope and light, courtesy of The Revolution and its allies?
I think the answer is pretty simple, when you consider what’s already being white-washed from MayDay. Why?
She pauses, letting the silence hang…
BECAUSE THEY’RE TERRIFIED!
The people trying to buy professional wrestling, and extract your wealth, they’re shaking in their boots. They’re pissed, because they almost got away with it… the heist of the century from right underneath our noses.
But our lives, our battles… they’re not something on sale for the highest bidder.
Tonight we’re putting our foot down. We’re taking back Warfare. We’re taking back the XWF. And we’re taking back our power- - -YOUR POWER- - - and giving it back to you!
With that, the loudest sounding lightswitch you’ve ever heard.
The power in the arena is fully restored, and XWF’s control of the means of production resumed.
And then the revolution is drowned in the a cold bath, with the sobering sounds of power and authority…
…ok, it’s not quite ‘No Chance’, but you get the point…
A small army of armed XWF security pours from behind the curtain and line the stage before Peter Principle steps out. A look of calm scorn etched across his face.
Before Dolly, Flynn and Schism even realize it, another platoon of security guards, in equal size to the one on the ramp, hop the barricade from the stands and surround all of ringside.
PP: That’s about enough out of you three!
One false move, and I’m letting these taser-carrying dogs off from their leashes.
Principle walks down the ramp with a microphone, as the XWF security team, led by XWF Security Enforcer Tommy Gunn, surrounds the ring, clearly itching to bust the skulls of these rabble rousers!
JC: It looks like Tommy Gunn is just waiting for the go-ahead to trounce the three revolutionaries! What’s his beef with them?
BG: Those three made the security team look bumbling rubes with their little closing fireworks show! That’s egg on Tommy’s face and he wants to make sure the inmates know they ain’t in charge of the asylum!
You want to talk about power, Dolly? Funny… he chuckles mirthlessly… Because…
…As Principle reaches the base of the ramp beside Tommy Gunn, Peter squints at the ring, at Flynn and Dolly and Schism each holding megaphones…
…He whispers in Gunn’s ear.
…Gunn exhales and hands him a megaphone!
Principle smiles, holding the megaphone to his microphone…
…Because I’M here tonight to exercise MY power to punish YOU three! his shouting is shrill, and scratchy, spit flinging from his lips as his face turns red, howling into the megaphone!
You three hogtied me? Locked me in a broom closet? And attacked… ME?! At MayDay… MY show?! And you have the AUDACITY! you can STEAL Warfare now too?
MARK FLYNN?
The crowd boos Flynn’s name, although much softer than usual.
Flynn! Peter continues! I know you’ve always thought you could run things around here better than me, so as punishment for you, let me show what having ACTUAL power in the XWF looks like.
The bass drops, and suddenly Big Preesh and Herschel Kiss, Peter Principle’s personal security team, storm out from behind the X-Tron! Preesh does a forward roll like an action hero!
…Well, okay, he crouches and then twirls his fingers like the crowd should imagine him doing a forward roll!
As the pair flanks Peter Principle.
[blue]That's right! … MR. ‘I WANT TO BE THE BOSS!’ MR. ‘I WANT TO BE THE BOOKER!’ MR. ‘I WANT TO BE THEO PRYCE’!
You want to see power in action? Well, the ACTUAL BOSS! With the ACTUAL BOOKING POWER!…Is booking you for a match right now!
A handicap match against real POWER!
There’s static and then a pop on the broadcast!
BG: Are we back?
JC: Yes, I do.. I do believe I hear you, partner. Well folks, we greatly apologize for the interruption to the broadcast there…
BG: But I’m NOT apologizing for these… these… thankless radicals who are trying to hijack our wrestling program! I don’t know who Flynn and Dolly and that weirdo think that they are, but Peter Principle is about to show them that you don’t cross the boss!
JC: Some people might take action with what these three have done, but one thing is for certain, this audience here is firmly behind The Revolution. WE can’t forget how poorly Peter Principle treated Dolly at MayDay, or his long list of malfeasances against Mark Flynn. You’ve got to admit it is odd that any mention of Dolly was left off of our quecards tonight!
BG: That’s because we’re not going to celebrate terrorism, JC! What Dolly and The Revolution did at MayDay was despicable!
JC: Well, this crowd sure doesn’t seem to think so, and the crowd at MayDay didn’t seem to think so either!
BG: That’s how authority dies, DC… to thunderous applause!
JC: I… don’t think you meant to say it that way, and thus sorta just proved their point for them.
Preesh and Kiss march to the ring, and each take easy steps over the top rope.
Dolly and Schism try to huddle up with Flynn to talk gameplan… When they’re both grabbed by the ankles by XWF security and tugged under the bottom rope!
Flynn finds himself alone with over one-thousand combined pounds of opposition!
’Big Puddin’ Herschel Kiss & Big Preesh
- vs -
Mark Flynn Handicap Match
Flynn opens his hands up, and gets in a wrestling stance.
JC: These men are a combined weight of nearly 1200 pounds, Brody
BG: You’re absolutely right. 1200 pounds of justice. 1200 pounds of authority. 1200 pounds of the best power that money can buy!
JC: Flynn, it looks like, has his eyes darting from one to the other, waiting to see which one wants to be the legal m-
WHAM! Suddenly they both charge and hit Flynn with…
SHOULDERBLOCKS IN STERO!
Flynn rebounds off their mass backwards into his corner like he got hit by a Honda Civic!
JC: It looks like the answer is both, Brody! This is not only a handicap match, but a tornado tag rules handicap match…
’Big Puddin’ Herschel Kiss & Big Preesh
- vs -
Mark Flynn Tornado Tag Rules Handicap Match
BG: Thank you for the correction, Graphics Department!
…Flynn shakes off the cobwebs in the corner… As both of his opponents plod across the ring! Each grabbing Flynn by his skull!
JC: Oh dear! Flynn looking like he’s in trouble! The one-time XWF Union Co-President is about to get dismantled just like his Union did!
‘Big Puddin’ raises a hand, insisting he’s got this one…
Preesh takes a step back, letting Kiss take the reins!
…Kiss raises Flynn, in a show of great strength, into a military press above his head!
JC: Absolute power on display here by Herschel Kiss!
Principle wrings his hands fiendishly outside the ring, as he barks at Dolly and Schizz outside to look and see what true power looks like!
…Kiss tries to circle-step around the ring, with his prey in his control…
WHEN FLYNN CATCHES KISS WITH A KNEE TO THE SKULL!
Kiss drops like a popped balloon, facedown to the mat!
JC: Wow! Flynn has the sweetest knee in the biz!
BG: You’re telling me, Jacko! Kiss went from on the cusp of victory to unconscious in record time!
Flynn lands on his feet a split-second after the redwood that is Herschel Kiss crashes to the mat!
…It’s now Flynn and Preesh!
…Preesh sweats (moreso than usual), clearly some of his bluster and bravado coming from having a two-on-one advantage…
Principle barks at Preesh! What are you doing? GET HIM!
…
Preesh ducks through the ropes, trying to head for the hills!
…BUT FLYNN GRABS HIS ARM! And drags him back inside!
JC: It looks like Flynn wants to make sure Preesh remembers this lesson not to oppose the Revolution!
Preesh, desperately, like a coyote in a snare, tries to wriggle and escape!
But Flynn delivers a kick to the back of the knee, dropping Preesh to one leg! Before twisting his body and forcing Preesh facedown on the mat!
And Flynn locks in the Fujiwara Armbar!
JC: Oh no! Will Pre-
HE TAPS!
HE TAPS!
HE TAPS!
THe ref calls for the bell!
WINNER: MARK FLYNN
JC: I didn’t even get to finish asking whether Preesh would tap before he tapped!
BG: What just happened? The Revolution won again!?!
The crowd starts up another chant!
REVOLUTION![/b]
*CLAP CLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP*[/b]
REVOLUTION![/b]
Peter is seething, and stamping his feet on the ramp.
GET HIM OUTTA THE RING!
Flynn is trying to bow to his adoring public, before two security guards grab him by the ankles! He doesn’t even have time to grab his trademark blue robe before he’s forced outta the ring!
THAT’S RIGHT! GET HIM OUTTA THERE! DON’T GIVE HIM HIS JACKET!
…
GET THAT OTHER GUY IN THERE! NOW!
The security, three or four of them manage to restrain a wriggling Flynn’s arms behind his back, holding him by ringside… Another pair manage to shove Schism toward the ring.
Schism mutters something about fascists and horses before going with the flow of the shove and rolling under the bottom rope!
…Preesh cradles his arm, galloping up the ramp past Principle…
Principle stews… Before shoving a finger in XWF Security Enforcer Tommy Gunn’s chest!
And then pointing at the ring!
JC: Uh oh! Principle’s bringing out the heavy guns! It looks like he wants his chief of security to personally dole some law and order onto Schizz!
BG: And law and order are what Tommy Gunn calls his fists!
Tommy Gunn
- vs -
Schism
Schism -who’s giving the most inquisitive look to the upside down Amazon logo on the mat- doesn’t even see it coming.
Tommy barrels in with a two-piece. A nasty left and right jab to Schism’s head. Schism’s head flops over twice, his aviators flying off of his eyes. He tumbles back into the corner and covers up.
JC: And those fists are dolling it out to Schism just fine!
BG: VINTAGE TOMMY GUNN!
Tommy whips Schism out of the corner- handling him into the ropes.
He takes off running across the ring himself! Into the ropes!
CATCHING SCHISM IN THE CENTER OF THE MAT!
HEADSHOT!!!
The superman punch spins Schism on his feet! He falls back into the corner - - -and here comes Tommy!
He charges Schism - - -TARGET LOCKED!
But Schism moves out of the way! Tommy’s splash catches nothing but the corner!
Tommy turns around and gets cracked right in the nose with a headbutt!
TOMMY - - -What are you doing?! Peter screams
Gunn leans over holding his nose, as blood starts oozing into his hands.
TAKE THAT FREAK OUT!
Schism moves in - - - BUT TOMMY PULLS A CONCEALED BATON FROM HIS BOOT!
JC: Tommy Gunn is going to get himself disqualified here!
BG: Do you think he cares about this match? All he wants is to hurt Schism!
HE SWINGS THE BATON AT SCHISM’S SKULL
JC: OOOOOOHHHH!!!!
BUT IT’S CAUGHT!
Schism grins wildly at Tommy, holding his arm and baton with ease.
Never thought I’d meet Squealer the pig in real life!
NO! STOP HIM!
Tommy’s eyes goes wide- - -HE PULLS OUT A TASER FROM HIS HIP AND - - -
GETS SPUN AROUND INTO A GUILLOTINE CHOKE!
Night night piggy!
JC: The Abolition! Tommy is trouble!
Schism pulls the two of them to the mat- - - his bicep looking like Popeye’s allasuden as he squeezes.
Tommy’s body goes limp almost immediately!
WINNER: SCHISM
The crowd is chanting again
REVOLUTION!
*CLAP CLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP*
REVOLUTION!
The ref calls for the bell and tries pulling Schism off - - -but he doesn’t let go!
REVOLUTION!
*CLAP CLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP*
REVOLUTION!
The security team rushes the ring
JC: This won't be pretty!
BG: Get that FREAK off of Tommy, damnit!
Within seconds, Schism is simultaneously hit with a taser to the neck, and pummeled, and punched in multiple directions. Flynn and Dolly are trying to fight free from the security team restraining them, but it’s no use.
JC: Peter Principle clearly isn’t happy with the results of those impromptu matches, but nonetheless, he has the rebels perfectly restrained, and right where he wants them.
Peter shoots a cold smile across the ring at Dolly, she and Flynn are getting a kick out of watching Gunn’s security forces try and fail to hurt Schism. Schism takes a few more punches before he’s properly restrained, but the security team doesn’t appear to be done having their fun with him…another fist is pulled back
PP: NO! NO! Wait! Principle commands of the security officers, while never breaking his gaze on Dolly - - - PP: I want them conscious to see this!
He smacks his lips and waves his hands forward NOW BRING THAT ONE IN THE RING! he nods at Dolly. She’s shoved into the ring, and held at the arms by the security team.
JC: We’ve seen both the punishments for Flynn and Schism go poorly, but you’ve got to wonder now what Peter Principle has in store for Dolly!
PP: You - - DOLLY? LITTLE MISS SOCIAL JUSTICE WARRIOR?!
YOU’RE NOT GETTING A MATCH!
JC:What do you think he’s going to do, Brody!
YOU WANT SOMETHING TO COMPLAIN ABOUT?
YOU CAN TELL IT TO THE UNEMPLOYMENT CLERK - - - BECAUSE YOU’RE
FIIIIIIIR - - -
Peter’s cell phone rings. ‘I’ll tumble for you’ is the ring tone?
A talented camera man gets a closeup shot on the phone screen from over Peter’s shoulder
It reads:
THADDEUS DUKE
The crowd pops as Peter gulps and answers the phone. He covers up his ear and turns around, listening to Thad through the phone. Yes. Yes. I understand you. Yes sir. Yes sir, of course, sir.
Peter nods and nods some more before hanging up, and slowly turning back to face the ring and The Revolution.
On second thought… Dolly? I WILL be punishing you with a match!
But it will be at REBELLION!
So I can have time to think of the perfect opponent to PROPERLY punish you with!
JC: After all of that, Doly is… being awarded a match at the Pay-Per-View?
BG: Did you not hear what Peter said? She’s getting a match, but it’s going to be a punishment!
JC: Well, we all just saw how The Revolutions punishments went tonight. Peter’s men got their asses kicked… and this crowd is in a frenzy!
BG: Oh, this isn’t over, JC. Not by a long shot! The Revolution may think they’ve won here tonight, but you know Principle has the final call! HE has the power. Not these rebels!
JC: You really think so?
REVOLUTION!
*CLAP CLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP*
REVOLUTION!
Peter Principle leads the security team away from ringside, and back up the ramp, as Herschel Kiss and Preesh help carry the only barely conscious Tommy Gunn.
Peter turns one last time and scowls at Dolly, Flynn and Schism who’ve joined the crowd in chanting out the calls of revolution here on XWF Warfare…
JC: Well, after an unusual start to the program, I believe we’re ready for what was scheduled to be our opening match up… and what a doozy it will be!
BG: [white]BG: Madison Dyson. Queen of Mean. Newly minted, and reigning XTreme champ. She’s been scorching earth since last year, and tonight? She looks to add a returning ‘Dio the Disappointment’ to her list!
JC: You might want to hold off on that slander, Brody. Dionysus made it clear at Ides of March…he’s back with renewed purpose. He’s not here to waste time. And tonight, in his first match since September, he’s been given a title shot for a reason! Despite not being in the ring since last September.
The lights dim as multiple spotlights rotate throughout the arena. As "Round and Round Through the Grapevine" begins to play, the spotlights all point to the stage, illuminating a velvet red curtain. The curtain is drawn open, revealing the imposing figure of Dionysus, holding a Thyrsus in his right hand and a shield on his left arm. He clashes the staff against his shield to rouse the crowd to clap with him, then roars, raising the Thyrsus above his head.
"Making his way to the ring, from Minneapolis MN, weighing in at 270 lbs; he is The Lord of the Vine, DIONYSUS!"
JC: And here he is! The Grapevine Gladiator! The man who won 2023 Rookie of year, and headlined The Revelry after winning Fire and Ice! He’s back, and if Madison Dyson isn’t careful, he could rip the XTreme title right out of her perfectly manicured hands here tonight.
As his entrance music continued to play, Dionysus grooved down the ramp, bumping elbows with fans as his hands were full. A bright smile is on his face as The Lord of the Vine soaks up the praise and adoration of the XWF Universe. Dionysus sets the Thyrsus and shield next to the ring apron and rolls inside, running to one of the turnbuckles and climbing up to rally the crowd behind him. He then hops down and limbers up, awaiting his opponent.
Madison Dyson saunters out onto the ramp as a plume of gold smoke filters out.
BG: You’re lookin’ at the most dangerous woman in the XWF, JC. Nearly five months undefeated in tag competition with Dolly Waters, and now your XTreme Champion. There is *nothing* this woman can’t do.
Madison Dyson then heads down the aisle confidently, bitching out any plebes that dare to boo her. She's often clad in elaborate feathery robes. The X-Tron shows a barrage of images of Madison kicking the holy living shit out of that abject loser Sean Parker and others, intercut with her name logo and a queen's crown laden with barbed wire. Once at the ring, she takes her time getting in, walking ginergly up the steps and demanding the official hold the ropes open for her.
Madison sprints across the ring and blindsides Dionysus with a jumping knee to the jaw before the bell’s echo fades. Dionysus stumbles back, and Madison rakes his eyes before unloading a flurry of open-handed slaps to the chest and neck.
Dionysus covers up and tries fending Madison off. The big man is able to eat a few of the blows, before throwing her into the ropes. He goes for a big boot but Madison takes a dive with her shoulder into Dio’s standing leg. He flops over to the mat, and Madison mounts him, screaming , throwing more punches and more forearms at his face. She puts all of her weight on him grinding her forearm against his face, screaming They gave YOU a title shot? After disappearing?!
She pulls Dionysus up…
SIT OUT JAWBREAKER!
Quick cover!
1!
And a quicker kick-out!
Dionysus powers out.
Dyson leaps back onto him, sending a flurry of open-hand slaps, both hands cracking across Dio’s face as she barks more obscenities. He’s able to stand through the contact but stumbles, absorbing the blows, but grabs her by the waist now…
BELLY-TO-BELLY SUPLEX!
Dyson crashes hard. The crowd roars!
Dionysus stomps forward with authority, dragging Madison up by the hair. She rakes his eyes again! This time using it to break free! Dionyusus leans over and grabs his face. Dyson is bouncing off the ropes and… RUNNING KNEE to the side of the head!
Rather than go for another cover, Madison exits the ring, grabbing a steel chair from beneath the apron.
JC: Madison wasting no time bringing the toys to play! It’s XTreme Rules! No disqualifications, anything goes!
But Dio has recovered quickly, and follows… he meets her on the floor with a CHOKESLAM onto the edge of the barricade!
JC: Right on the spine! That’ll compress a disc or two.
BG: Dio’s not wasting time. He knows Madison will do anything to win. He’s gotta match the fire.
Dio grabs the chair from the floor… he SWINGS A DECAPITATING BLOW!
But Madison ducks!
Drop toe hold onto the chair! Dio’s face smacks steel! He’s busted open!
Madison laughs, blood on her boots. She takes the steel chair and CRACKS it across Dio’s back once! Twice! Three times!
BG: The XTreme Division ain’t for the faint of heart. And Madison? She’s got the heart of a sociopath.
She drags Dio to the announce table, yelling at JC and Brody to get the hell out of her way.
She punches him in the side of the temple before propping Dionysus’ face against the edge of the table.
JC: Oh no. Not that move. Not…
BG: AMERICAN HISTORY YIKES INCOMING!
She backs up for the running dropkick - - - BUT DIONYSUS MOVES!
Madison crashes, leg-first into the side of the table!
Dio, bleeding and furious, grabs her by the ankle, he lifts her leg, and her entire body, and slams her back onto the arena floor. He picks her up and hits a Tiger Suplex- then goes for the cover!
1!
2!!
NO!!! Dyson kicks out!
Dio gives Dyson no time to recover though. He grabs her by the hair and DRAGS her into the crowd. They fight into the sea of people…Dio lifting Madison up
SPINEBUSTER!!!
ONTO A ROW OF FOLDING CHAIRS!!
The crowd is unglued!
JC: Good God! A human car crash!
BG: Dionysus… He’s not just back. He’s reborn.
Madison is howling in pain, and tries crawling away… grabbing a fan’s beer, and throwing it in Dio’s face. The distraction buys her enough time to pull a broomstick from beneath a concession table.
CRACK!
CRACK!
She hits Dio across the back again and again. But he catches the stick! He SNAPS it over his knee!
Madison’s eyes pop from her skull. Dio grabs her…
He hoists her up…
RUNNING POWERSLAM THROUGH THE CONCESSION BOOTH!
JC: He just flattened her!
BG: That booth's closed for renovations now!
Dio grabs a nearby trash can lid, slamming it over Madison’s back as she tries to crawl away.
Blood now trickling down her forehead.
He throws her back over the barricade and into the ring and follows.
Dio stands tall. MAdison desperately trying to crawl away.
He signals for the GRAPEVINE!
He pulls Madison up - - -
- - - but she shoves the ref between them! Dio is distracted!
LOW BLOW!
BG: OHHH. Right in the grapes!
JC: Desperation! Depravity! That’s Madison Dyson!
She has a chair again, and begins bashing Dio reptadley as he rolls around in agony. Taking shots to the shoulder, the chest, the lower back, the arm. Dyson limps over to the corner of the ring and sets the chair up. She limps back over to Dio, stomping him in the head for good measure before dragging him over to the seated chair. She lays his head on the corner of the metal seat…
JC: Oh no… she might actually it this time…
AMERICAN HISTORY YIKES!!!
But Dio barely manages to escape!
Dyson falls into the chair leg first. GEtting her leg caught between the seat and the back rest as it wraps around her knee.
Dio pulls himself up using the ropes. He spots Dyson reeling…
BRUTE FORCE!
He begins throttling her with a series of boxing attacks, pinballing her into the corner. With the chair still wrapped around her leg, she begins to fall forward right into a ON YOUR SHIELD!!!!
Dio flattens Dyson with the STO Backbreaker.
He covers Dyson!
JC: New champ! New champ!
1!
2!!
NOOOO!!!
Dyson just barely escapes! Even after two consecutive trademark moves from Dio, and a chair bent awkwardly, painfully around her knee. She struggles to push it off with her free leg, but finally does…. Which gives Dio the time to catch his breath. He stands back up and grabs the chair, and takes his turn swinging it the downed Dyson.
BUT SHE ROLLS!
HE SWINGS AGAIN!
AND SHE ROLLS AGAIN! JUST BARELY!
HE SWINGS HARDER!
BUT THIS TIME THE CHAIR THROTTLES AGAINST A PART OF THE RING ROPES AND REBOUNDS, STRIKING HIM AWKWARDLY IN THE GUT!!!
HE DIDN’T NOTICE DYSON ROLLING RIGHT OUT ONTO THE RING FLOOR!
Dio grimmances and tries catching his breath after having the wind partially knocked out of him He moves back to the ropes, and moves out - - -
BUT DYSON WITH A FIRE EXTINGUISHER!
She blasts Dio in the face with the dry chemical agent!
Dio stumbles back into the ring
Dyson charges back in…
RUNNING WITH THE FIRE EXTINGUISHER - - - AIMING FOR DIO’S HEAD!
DIO COUNTERS!!!!
BIG BOOT!
The fire extinguisher bashes her face, then flies across the ring.
She scrambles up to her feet
SPINEBUSTER AGAIN!!
The crowd goes crazy!
BG: That’s nearly 270 pounds driving her down! Her whole soul bounced off the canvas!
Dionysus doesn’t go for the pin. He takes a second, breathing hard, rotating his right shoulder.
Then he grabs the fire extinguisher.
Madison groans, pushing to her knees… and Dionysus SWINGS the fire extinguisher into her midsection!
CRACK!
She crumples.
He raises it again - - -
But Madison rolls out of the ring just in time.
JC: Dyson smart to escape there. She’s resourceful, even if vicious. But Dionysus is in pursuit!
Dionysus is on the chase, spraying Dyson down with the freezing chemical agent until it’s empty. He heaves it… AND CATCHES MADISON IN BACK!
She falls over and Dio is on her. He wrenches her up to her feet by the hair - - -AND RUNS HER FACE FIRST INTO THE TURNBUCKLE POST!!!
BUT DYSON STOPS IT! - - -
She catches herself with her hands, and grabs Dio by the hair now…. SLAMMING HIM HEAD FIRST INTO THE TURNBUCKLE!
The blow isn’t as hard as it could’ve been earlier in the match. Dyson has taken considerable damage in this one. Dio’s head bounces off, but he shakes the cobwebs and starts swinging. They start to brawl at ringside. Dyson ducking under the punches and throwing quick kicks into Dio’s midsection. But Dio clobbers her over the back with a double ax handle smash and catches his breath.
Dyson stumbles up to her feet as Dio takes a step back - - -HE CHARGES HER!
A MASSIVE CLOTHESLINE!!!!
It sends Madison over the barricade into the front row again! Hops the barricade and follows, and giving Madison no time to recover, he lifts her over his head and - - - GORILLA PRESS!!!
ONTO THE CONCRETE FLOOR!
BG: Okay… okay that’s gotta be 12 feet in the air she just fell from!
He covers her!
1!
2!!
NOOOOO!!!!!
JC: NO IDEA HOW SHE KICKED OUT THERE!
BG: Say what you will about Madison Dyson - quit is not a part of her DNA
Dionysus drags Madison by the hair again, slamming her head against the barrica. But Madison claws at his face, gouging the eyes again, then BITES his shoulder!!!
JC: Dyson doing anything she can to survive! No shame in her game.
Madison grabs a fan’s chair and throws it at Dionysus' face. She quickly grabs another fan’s chair and smashes it into Dio’s face behind the first chair, before driving a knee into his gut and scrambling back toward ringside.
Back at ringside, she drags out a folding table from under the ring and sets it up.
JC: This might be about to get ugly…
Dionysus recovers, leaping off the barricade and coming down with a diving ax handle attack. Dyson side steps and Dio catches air. Dyson sends a spinning heel kick to Dio’s ribs, but he catches the leg and grapples her up. HE LIFTS HER ONTO HIS SHOULDERS
HE’S ABOUT TO - - -START STUMBLING - - -DYSON IS NAILING HIM IN THE HEAD…
BUT DIO HOLDS ON!!!!
ELECTRIC CHAIR DROP ON THE FLOOR!!!!
BOTH WRESTLERS ARE DOWN!
The crowd is going crazy!
Finally, Dio is stumbling up to his feet, with Dyson folded up beneath him. He doesn’t go for a pin though. He grabs Madison by the arms and yeets her over the announce desk.
JC: WATCH OUT!
BG dives backward as monitors fly.
Dionysus climbs onto the table.
He drags Madison up.
The crowd is screaming!!!!
JC: He’s looking to end this, Brody! Something BIG is coming!
He hooks her in - -
But Madison suddenly shifts her weight - - -
KICK TO THE BALLS!
Dionysus yells out and doubles over!
BG: I told you! You gotta protect the grapes, Dionysus! It’s in your name!
Madison straightens, traps his arm - - -
MISS FEEL GOOD NECKBREAKER!!!
THROUGH THE ANNOUNCE TABLE!!!
The table explodes under their weight!
The crowd gasps , then roars at the sight!
Madison rolls over, and drapes an arm across Dionysus.
1!
2!!
3!!!
WINNER via pinfal- and STILL- XWF XTreme Champion: Madison Dyson
BG: And THAT is why she’s the XTreme Champion! Ruthless! Clever! DEVIOUS!
JC: Another brilliant display of Dysons’ craftiness. She keeps everything buttoned-up and tight, maybe spilling some blood by the end of it- - - but striking right when the iron is hot. And take nothing from Dionyusus here
BG: If the world was worried about ring rust, I didn’t see much of it tonight.
JC: Dionysus looked like he had it in hand…but Madison Dyson used every ounce of cunning and cruelty to escape with the win tonight. What a battle.
BG: She's not just surviving. She’s THRIVING. Madison Dyson retains in her first XTreme title defense! Let the chase to the case begin, baby!
"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.
JC: This young man, Solomon Kline, has the eyes of the world on him tonight. Born into legacy, raised by fire, and walking into this ring with something to prove!
BG: And he’s gonna get steamrolled by Latoya Hixx. I hope the kid’s spine knows how to bend.
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!"
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: There she is! Latoya Hixx! After a significant drought in her title opportunities, she’s been booked for an opportunity at the XWF Revolution title against “King” Justin York! And Brody, it seems like she’s got a lot extra pep in her step! Almost like she wants to prove she deserves the chance not only to compete for the belt, but to hold the Revolution title.
BG: No doubt about it, Jacko! Latoya has made it clear in every promo, her goal is championship gold. She knows a career in the XWF is measured in days wearing a belt. She hasn’t scored one yet, but she’s due! And she’s going to prove it by making MINCEMEAT of the self-proclaimed Rookie of the Year, Solomon Kline!
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!”
JC: Both these stars looking to build momentum! Solomon looking to get back on track following a very competitive match with Sarah Wolf! Solomon has placed himself on the frontlines of battling Black Rainbow, a victory tonight would send a message that he’s coming for them!
BC: But don’t talk like Latoya Hixx ain’t got nothing to prove either! She wants this one BAD, Jacko!
The competitors stand across from each other! Hixx stretches and smugly fires comments over at Kline, whose expression remains steely and focused.
The official signals to the timekeeper.
DING DING
SOLOMON KLINE
- vs -
LATOYA HIXX Singles Match
The moment the bell rings, Hixx lumbers forward, flexing and grinning with a cocky sneer. Solomon stands across from her, eyes narrowed, bouncing on his heels.
JC: Hixx wasting no time going after Kline!
BG: And why not? The quicker she gets to him, the quicker she picks up the win!
Indeed, Latoya looks to finish this one immediately, going for a…
CLOTHESLINE FROM HELL!
…
DUCKED!
Kline, with lightning-fast reflexes, dips his head under Hixx’s extended arm, and runs to hit the ropes!
JC: Wow! Solomon Kline is 6’6”, 225 but he’s moving like a cruiserweight out there! Explosive speed!
Latoya’s eyes widen, as she spins back toward her opponent to blo-...
NOPE! Kline is already leaping through the air!
RUNNING HIGH SPEED DROP KICK TO THE THIGH!
Latoya’s smug face twists into confusion as her leg buckles. She squeezes her upper thigh as she drops into a crouch…
JC: Incredible move by Kline!
BG: Big deal! He lightly grazed her leg!
JC: Kline delivers a precise strike to the thigh! Kline knows this match isn’t going to be won with power, but precision! Kline’s chopping the foundation!
BG: You talking like Hixx is a tree! She ain’t gonna stand still and take chops! She’s a bear! A bear with delts!
Kline kips back up to his feet athletically as Hixx forces herself to a vertical base, ignoring the pain throbbing through her thigh!
Hixx charges at Kline once more…
BG: Get ready for Kline to leap outta the way of the runaway train that is Latoya Hixx!
JC:...Not this time, Brody! It looks like these trains are headed for a collision!
Indeed, Solomon charges straight at Hixx!
Hixx reels her fist back for a punch!
…
But Solomon leaps through the air, springing forward!
Before Latoya can bring her fist forward to strike…
Solomon’s forearm SMASHES against Hixx’s chin!
ASHES TO ASHES!
JC: Wow! An absolute clinic on display from Solomon Kline! The first two exchanges are going his way!
Kline’s forearm hits Hixx’s jaw with a sharp KERACK! Hixx stutter-steps, staggering backwards into her corner.
JC: I think Hixx is surprised Kline prepped so well to face off against her unique, fast-break offensive style!
Latoya blinks rapidly, mouth agape in disbelief. She slaps her own jaw like she’s trying to reset it, then her nostrils flare. Rage. Pure rage.
Latoya rushes forward with a guttural yell!
BG: Welp, it looks like Hixx is trying running at her opponent again! Bold strategy, Cotton, let’s see if it pays off for her!
Latoya charges across the ring toward Kline, eyes flaring and teeth bared!
She reels her arm back…
LARIAT!
…
DUCKED! Solomon again uses the momentum from ducking out of the way to charge to the ropes!
Latoya’s already zipping so she bounds across the ring, bouncing off the ropes as well…
The two forces head toward each other… Hixx is clearly rearing up another lariat…
But Kline extends his arm, leaping…
And catches Hixx across the throat!
Flying clothesline knocks Hixx on her ass!
JC: Hixx keeps trying to time these strikes, but Kline is just too fast for her!
Latoya slams the mat with her fist, looking like a volcano about to blow, veins popping in her temple. Her breathing is fast, erratic — her frustration boiling over.
JC: Look at the speed! Solomon Kline is a storm in human form!
BG: He’s too fast! Someone give that boy a ticket for speeding!
The crowd pops for Kline! As he scans the crowd, he smiles.
JC: Solomon’s eyes flicker with purpose! He’s not just here tonight to win! He’s here to make a statement! To make it clear he’s got that winning mentality he said all champions have!
Hixx shoves herself out of the corner, her arm reeled back again… Kline sighs, ready for the same counter…
He ducks!
…But no! Hixx puts on the brakes! And catches him with a knee to the gut!
The crowd is stunned!
JC: DId Latoya Hixx just learn a new trick?
BG: She baited ol’ Kline into pulling the same move and punished him for it! I’m tellin’ ya, Jacko! Hixx wants this opportunity at the Revolution title and she KNOWS a win tonight would go leaps and bounds toward her getting that belt!
Kline bends over… clutching his gut…
But Hixx doesn’t let up! She lunges and wraps her arms around Kline in a waistlock…
RELEASE GERMAN SUPLEX!
JC: Wow! Hixx just sent Kline hurtling through the air like a watermelon launched by catapult!
Kline gets launched, his back slams against the mat, his legs hanging up over his shoulders from Hixx’s toss!
Hixx smashes his fist against her chest, raising her arms for the crowd!
On the mat… Kline arches in pain, grabbing his back. Before smashing his fists against the mat and forcing himself back upright!
Jacuinde: That devastating suplex from Hixx might have taken out some members of the roster in one fell swoop! But look at Kline! This kid refuses to stay down!
Brody: Stay down, you little punk! Take the L before she folds you into a backpack!
Latoya continues flexing and showboating… Until she turns around and sees Kline standing once more, pulling himself up against the corner… And she’s furious!
JC: Uh oh! I think Hixx was hoping for another three-to-four seconds of basking in crowd admiration! She didn’t get it and now she’s gonna take it out on Kline!
Hixx charges! This time, it’s Hixx leaping through the air!
STINGER SPLASH!
…No! Solomon forward-rolls out of the corner under her leap! Hixx crashes skull-first into the turnbuckle!
JC: Oh no! Perfect timing again by Solomon Kline, letting Hixx do an immense amount of damage to herself!
Hixx gasps, her face twisted in sudden agony, bouncing back from the turnbuckles with arms flailing like she’s lost in a fog.
Solomon’s face twists into a grim smile. It’s time.
Kline boots Hixx in the gut! She doubles over… As he sits on her head and hooks her arms above her back!
…Hixx gests enough wherewithal to try and break it out… but Kline neatly rotates himself and Hixx so now her chest is toward the sky and he’s facing the mat!
BG: The second Hixx gets her bearings, she’s gonna pop Kline’s head like a zit!
JC: But the window is closing, Brody! Kline’s looking to hit his finishing move!
Hixx tries to bring her arms together to break Kline’s hold…
But Kline pushes his head up! And lifts her into the air! Hixx is upside down as Kline circles around the ring!
JC: Here it comes!
KLINE SITS OUT! Hixx’s skull CRACKS against the mat!
DUST! TO! DUST! (Vertebreaker!)
Latoya crumples, eyes fluttering, arms limp. The overconfidence, the power — snuffed out in an instant.
Kline drops into a cover, hooking the leg!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
WINNER: SOLOMON KLINE!
JC: An absolute statement! Solomon Kline just planted the strongest woman in the sport, and made it look like destiny!
Brody: He got lucky! She tripped on her own ego! That don’t count! I want a rematch, two outta three falls, right now!
A custom version of BEAST by Tech N9ne begins to blast on the arena's speakers accompanied by the reaction of fans in attendance.
Insanity at it's finest
Fire starter,
Riot maker,
Moon stricken,
Animal need,
Bad seed,
Untamable beast!
A cloud of ocean blue smoke fills the top of the ramp, as the special lighting shines down upon the smoke it gives off the appearance of waves.
Everybody around me always think they know what's going on inside my mind
think I'm Mr. Trash Talk all the time
How they say on Diary 'You think you know, but you have no idea'
As the music kicks in, everybody is expecting James Shark to jog out of the curtains on cue...but the cue comes, and there's no Shark!
BG: Here comes the champ! James Shark is in the building!
JC: Wait a minute… something’s—something’s happening with the screen...
The X-Tron glitches violently before cutting to static. Shark’s music scratches to a halt like a needle dragged across a record.
The crowd falls into sudden, confused murmuring.
Then, we hear a familiar voice blare out over the PA system.
“CUT THE MUSIC! CUT IT! I TOLD YOU TO PLAY THE THEME OF OUR COMPANY’S CHAMPION, GOD DAMN IT!”
The arena gasps as the unseen voice echoes like thunder. Then, a new tune begins to play:
BOOM!
Red and green pyro detonates across the stage like sickly hellfire, swallowing the previous display in it's flames. Thick, curling smoke coils upward. That's when the grinning, wide-eyed face of Charlie Nickles appears at the top of the ramp. He has a microphone in his hand, and James Shark's championship slung over his shoulder! The fans erupt into a chorus of confusion, jeers, and stunned silence as the X-tron shows The Nickleman obliterating opponents and laughing through broken teeth.
BG: By God, it's Charlie Nickles!
But it’s not the same disheveled, bloody madman these fans remember. This Charlie Nickles is composed, coiffed, and clean: almost dangerously so. He’s wearing a jet-black suit fit for a funeral, complete with blood-diamond cufflinks and a matching red tie. The cufflinks glint "B O B" under the spotlights.
JC: What the hell is this?! Charlie’s not supposed to be on tonight's card. We're supposed to be hearing from our universal champion right now, not this sicko!
BG: This is twisted: first he used Shark's entrance music, and now, he's parading around with Shark's title like it's his!
Charlie holds the Universal Title up high with one hand while adjusting his cufflinks with the other. Then, The Nickleman makes his descent. He struts towards the ring arrogantly, like he owns the place! He only stops at the foot of the ramp to show off his new belt to a group of front-row fans, pointing at the scratched-out nameplate like it’s gospel. One fan reaches toward the gold, and Charlie yanks it back with a smirk before walking up the steel steps. He pauses dramatically at the apron and turns his head, savoring the crowd's mixed reaction to his antics.
Then, he steps through the ropes and into the center of the ring, where he finally raises the microphone up to his mouth.
Charlie Nickles: "BEHOLD! A Champion, in the flesh..."
The Nickleman cackles maniacally as he paces around the ring with Shark's Universal Championship glistening upon his shoulder.
Charlie Nickles: "Now don't act so surprised! You folks all knew where my sights were set. I told you last Warfare, James, that The Nickleman's gaze was upon you. I told you last Warfare, James, that you don't always know when the end is near....
And yet you never put two and two together. You never had a clue!"
The Nickleman repositions the stolen belt atop his shoulder as he glances directly into the hardcam placed at ringside.
Charlie Nickles: "I made you into a superstar, James. It was ME who put YOU on the map! And that means you owe me. I told you last Warfare, James, that you owed me! But you weren't man enough to face your debts. You weren't man enough to face The Nickleman one last time, with everything on the line...
Instead, you chose to run. When the waters got rough, the Shark swam away....but James, I was never going to let you get away that easy. The currents of my gravitas are too great! My tides of change are too strong. So where did your little swim against Yelena take you, James?
It took you right back to me!
And when you couldn't pay your debts, THE NICKLEMAN had to come repossess!"
Charlie's head rolls back as his whole body guffaws. After a few seconds of merciless laughter, The Nickleman holds up the championship belt so that everybody in the arena can get a good look at it.
Charlie Nickles: "And now, James, you only have one choice. You can sit in your little corner, all salty, flopping around like the little fish you are…or you can come on down to Anarchy and try to take this baby back!
Yeah, I’m offering you an opportunity, Shark. A challenge, really: to see if you even WANT to go on and fight me at Rebellion. 'Cause honestly? I think you've already given up. This is my title now, James, and if you still want that match at Rebellion....you're going to have to show a little more fight!
And if you're too scared to show up on Thursday night, well then...maybe I'll just see if Summer Page wants to show me anything!"
The crowd murmurs, buzzing with tension as The Nickleman paces back and forth in the ring before suddenly stopping and staring right into the camera once more. Charlie casually slides a hand down the front of his black suit jacket.
Charlie Nickles: "But be warned, James, I’m dressed in all black for a reason. Now that I’ve got this belt, now that I finally have everything I've ever wanted...I’m ready for funerals, left and right! Mine or yours: I don’t really care. But know this: if you come after MY Universal Championship…you’re going to have to kill me.
Because I’m going to kill you.”
Charlie drops the mic with a sharp thud and hoists the title skyward as “Bullet With a Name” blasts from the speakers once again, the crowd split between awe and hatred as Charlie Nickles basks in his moment with the belt.
JC: This is madness, Brody!
BG: This isn't madness, this is WARFARE...and Charlie Nickles just issued his battle declaration for Rebellion!
The lights in the arena dip to black in time with the sirens and beat to the opening of Sweatpants (BattleTapes Remix) by Childish Gambino, the lights then beginning to flash, alternating left and right onto the ramp. In time, the letters "S", "E", "B", and then "Empire" flash one at a time on the big screen until the lights stop flashing as the lyrics hit.
"She askin' “Why you say that?!”
The beat drops and the lights flash on the rampway again. As they do, the screen illuminates with "SEB" and then "EMPIRE" flashing on the sceen.
"Rich kid asshole, paint me as a villain"
Sebastian Everett-Bryce flings his arms wide, staring up with his head covered by the hood of his jacket. He stands in the middle of the ramp, the lights beating down on him, before looking out at the crowd. He wears a long jacket with the hood pulled up over his head, zipped to the waist. The jacket, which is cut away at the bottom and only runs down the back of his legs, is patterned with an elongated Union Flag, but it’s in black and white and appears to be cracked and broken. His tights are short, with the initials SEB emblazoned upon the front.
JC: Here he is! The two-time Universal champion! The current ELO leader! The MAN right now in wrestling! Sebastian Everett-Bryce! Fresh off a nail-biter of a victory defeating Bobby Bourbon at MayDay!
BG: But he’s never beaten his opponent tonight, Jacko!
JC: True, Brody! While SEB and his opponent tonight were WarGames teammates, they’ve never faced off on opposite sides of the ring until tonight! Anything could happen! How will SEB face this challenge?
The lights lift, and SEB makes his way to the ring, stretching his neck from side to side as he walks, his eyes focused on the ring. He climbs up the steps and steps through the ropes before standing in the middle of the ring.
"I'm winnin', yeah, yeah, I'm winnin' (What?)
Rich kid, asshole, paint me as a villain"
He extends his arms once more before pulling back his hood and removing his jacket to reveal the back of his tights which read “S.E.B”
"Don't be mad cause I'm doing me better than you doing you
Better than you doing you, fuck it, what you gon' do? (What?!)"
He flashes his arms out to a side, a satisfied and somewhat sneery grin upon his face, he holds the position for a moment, to allow the crowd to take pictures, before moving towards his corner.
"Luna est dominae, volkodlak malorum
Artes et perditae, lycan incarnatus
Luna est dominae, volkodlak malorum
Artes et perditae, lycan incarnatus"
A dense fog rolls out along the entrance ramp, the haunting whispered chant growing in volume along with the pulsing tempo of the music. A hulking horned beast appears from the gloom, slowly and methodically stalking towards the ring. His leather doomsday cloak is open over his massive chest, each step bringing him further into the light until "The Monster Machine" is revealed in full. The dark and Gothic chanting of “Night of the Wolf” by Nox Arcana continues, music swelling in volume as each pulse in the tempo and each measured step of the monster are in sync.
"Rota, vita, mara, vena
Mare, dracul, morte, vita
Rota, vita, mara, vena
Mare, dracul, morte, vita"
JC: Enigma! The Monster Machine! An absolutely terrifying specimen! One of the most dominant competitors at last year’s WarGames
BG: There’s a reason Captain SEB drafted this guy, Jacko! Cuz he didn’t want to have to go against him!
JC: I can’t imagine anyone in their right mind would, Brody! But I think you’re selling SEB short. He’s in this game because he enjoys a challenge. And the Monster Machine Enigma? Is as big a challenge as I could imagine in the XWF! But, can Enigma pull off a win over the two-time Universal champion tonight?
ENIGMA ascends the ring steps and subtly wipes his feet on the apron, turning towards the crowd as he removes the horned skull mask, revealing his soot-streaked face and colourless eyes. Throwing his head back, he sprays a bloody mist into the air before letting out a snarl. When his head lowers, blood drips from his chin and down his heaving chest.
DING DING!
Sebastian Everett-Bryce
- vs -
Enigma Singles
JC: And here we go! This is a true clash of styles, folks. Enigma, the bear-strong juggernaut, against the unorthodox technician, the two-time Universal Champion, Sebastian Everett-Bryce!
BG: You mean the twinkle-toed technician, Jacko. Look at him circlin’ like a scared deer. He knows one wrong step and Enigma’s gonna tear him in half.
Sebastian moves quick, ducking under a wild lariat attempt from Enigma and lighting him up with low calf kicks.
Enigma grunts, unfazed, stepping around, trying to absorb SEB’s kicks!
JC: Everett-Bryce starting this match off trying to bring Enigma down like a redwood!
BG: But this tree just won’t fall, Jack!
Enigma tries to launch himself forward, locking SEB in a grapple…
But SEB narrowly slips out of the way!
JC: Appropriate caution on display here by SEB… He knows how dangerous Enigma is when you’re inside his range of attack, and SEB doing everything in his power to sap that strength from a safe proximity before going in for the kill!
Enigma tries to turn on the jets, to grasp at SEB…
But SEB sees him coming… and fires off a spinning back kick!
Straight to Enigma’s to the ribs!
Enigma bends over at the waist! Everett-Bryce, sensing an opportunity, wraps Enigma in a front facelock…
SNAP DDT!
JC: From outta nowhere!
Enigma gets planted FLAT on his SKULL in the center of the ring!
JC: What a devastating move by SEB in the early going! That’d finish most men!
SEB starts to sit up, ready to continue the att-
…But the Monster Machine Enigma sits up like nothing happened, almost rising at the same pace as the guy who didn’t just get his skull slammed against the mat!
BG: Enigma ain’t MOST MEN, Jacko! He’s THE MOSTER!
JC: Everett-Bryce hitting and running here, trying to chop the tree down. But Enigma just sat up like a horror movie villain!
BG: That’s because it is a horror movie, and Sebastian’s the doomed pretty boy that talks too much.[/white]
Frustration flashes across SEB’s face as he breaks into a sprint. He rebounds off the ropes… picture perfect running dropkick to Enigma’s chest!
Enigma staggers backwards a step but isn’t taken off his feet!
JC: Enigma is a BRICK WALL, Brody!
Sebastian roars, pulls Enigma into another front facelock… a majestically-executed snap suplex! The crowd pops for the technical precision…
But Enigma rolls over, rising to his feet like he didn’t just get tossed by a former world champ.
JC You can’t keep him down! Everett-Bryce just executed a perfect suplex on a man nearly twice his size and Enigma is back on his feet like it was nothing!
BG: I love this guy! He’s a train with fists! No frills, no flair, just destruction!
Everett-Bryce wipes sweat from his brow… as Enigma looks on expectantly, as if waiting for the very worst thing SEB can throw at him…
SEB then charges again off the ropes… A shotgun dropkick! SEB puts everything he has on it… Enigma staggers back! Up and over the top rope!
…But lands on his feet outside!
JC: Holy COW! Can anything put Enigma on his b-
SEB does not let Enigma rest on the outside for even a moment! He vaults over the ropes!
SUICIDA DIVE!
SEB crashes into Enigma on the outside!
JC: WOW! What a move by the two-time XWF Universal champion!
SEB doesn’t waste a moment with this brief window… He grabs Enigma, scooping Enigma by the scruff of the neck and hurling him back into the ring…
Enigma works his way up to his feet…
SEB climbs up the apron!
He springboards up to the top rope!
DIVING KNEE TO THE SKULL!
For once, Enigma drops flat on his back!
JC: Down goes Enigma! SEB pulled out a devastating aerial maneuver to finally drop the redwood!
SEB hooks both Enigma’s legs!
The official counts!
ONE!
TWO!
KICKOUT WITH AUTHORITY!
JC: My god! Enigma just launched Sebastian off him like a bag of flour!
BG: That was pure insult. Enigma’s tellin’ him, “Try harder, boy.”
Enigma shoves himself off the mat, shaking off cobwebs…
SEB tries to keep the offense coming… He hooks his arms around Enigma’s waist!
JC: What is he—? He’s going for it!
BG: No, no, don’t do this, you overconfident limey!
Sebastian GRUNTS…
Enigma’s feet…
Leave the mat!
GERMAN SUPLEX!
The crowd erupts as Enigma is spiked and flung overhead, crashing to the canvas… Before rolling back into the turnbuckle!
Sebastian rolls through, adrenaline surging—he charges for the corner—
Jacuinde Castillo: HE’S GOING FOR THE CONQUEST! The dropkick is coming!
Sebastian sprints—leaps—
But Enigma shoves himself out of the corner!
And grabs Sebastian mid-run!
BG: UH-OH!!!
EXPLODER SUPLEX—INTO THE TURNBUCKLE!!!
Sebastian crumples like a ragdoll!
JC: OH MY—SEBASTIAN JUST GOT LAUNCHED INTO THE CORNER! THAT’S GOTTA BE A BROKEN BACK!
Brody Goodman: Enigma’s known for Questions and Answers, baby! But, right now Sebastian looks like he forgot the question!
Enigma stands tall, chest heaving, staring down at the broken frame of Everett-Bryce in the corner. The crowd buzzes with awe and concern.
JC: This is bad—this is very bad for Sebastian Everett-Bryce. The Conquest was in his grasp—but Enigma just turned the tables, and maybe the tide of this match!
BG: Should’ve run while he could. You don't wrestle a bear, Jacuinde—you survive it. And I don’t think Sebastian’s got that kind of luck left.
Enigma, as if he’s now ready to take his turn inflicting pain, drags Sebastian from the mat, a handful of hair and gear, hoisting him up like a lifeless mannequin. He muscles Sebastian up onto his shoulders…
MASSIVE SAMOAN DROP! Enigma slams all of Everett-Bryce’s weight and momentum into the mat with a sickening thud.
The crowd audibly ooohs at SEB’s painful landing!
JC: Enigma is just pouring it on now. Look at the way Sebastian’s body bounced off that canvas!
BG: That boy is gettin’ pancaked. He’s gonna need to be scraped off the mat with a spatula.
Enigma rises, looming over Sebastian… SEB tries to force his way back to a vertical base…
But Enigma hits the ropes… He leaps through the air!
Running crossbody block, nearly folding Sebastian in half again!
The crowd gasps.
BG: SEB just got SACKED!
Enigma hooks the leg of SEB’s crumpled form—
ONE!
TWO!
THRE-NO! SEB forces the shoulder up!
JC: Sebastian Everett-Bryce will not stay down!
BG: He’s too stubborn to quit. It ain’t brave—it’s foolish. He’s just invitin’ more pain!
Enigma’s face darkens, frustration beginning to mount. He again rips Sebastian off the mat back to his feet… He muscles his arms around SEB’s shoulders…
ANOTHER T-BONE SUPLEX, sending Sebastian skidding across the ring!
Enigma sets his back against his corner and begins stomping his foot on the mat, demanding Everett-Bryce rise…
SEB slowly, painfully does…
And Enigma sprints across the ring! RUNNING BIG BOOT! Smashing into Sebastian’s face!
SEB spins down to the mat like a skydiver with a tangled parachute!
Enigma covers again!
ONE!
TWO!
THR-KICKOUT!!
JC: AGAIN! Everett-Bryce refuses to die! He's taken more punishment than any man should!
BG: His body’s gonna give out before his spirit does—and that’s the problem, Jacuinde!
Breathing heavily, Enigma shakes his head. The Monster Machine motions for the end. He yanks Sebastian up by the throat—high in the air—
JC: He’s going for it! Questions and Answers! The Chokebomb!
BG: And SEB doesn’t have an ounce of fight left in him to res-
…But SEB punches Enigma’s hand! And a momentary twitch in Enigma’s palm lets SEB loose!
JC: SEB proving he always has more fight in him!
Enigma reaches forward to re-grip SEB for the Chokebomb…
But SEB ducks under the grapple and breaks into a run to the ropes, momentum carrying him forward—
BG Don’t run, you coward—FIGHT!
Enigma snarls and turns, throwing out a decapitating lariat—
Sebastian DUCKS!
JC: Everett-Bryce avoids disaster!
He hits the opposite ropes, building speed—and as Enigma turns around—
SEBASTIAN FLIES—EMPIRE KICK!!!
BOOM!
The full impact of the Claymore-style strike lands flush on Enigma’s jaw, whipping his head back violently as the giant stumbles—and crashes to the mat!
JC: EMPIRE KICK!!! EMPIRE KICK OUT OF NOWHERE!!!
BG: WHAT?! NO WAY—NO WAY!
Both men are down. The crowd roars with disbelief.
…
JC: What a shot! What timing! Sebastian Everett-Bryce just knocked the Monster Machine off his feet—but at what cost!?
BG: This ring is a graveyard now, and both men might be laid to rest before this one’s over!
…SEB exhaustedly, arm-over-arm, manages to stir first…
JC: Not quite a graveyard! SEB is up first!
He crawls…
And rests an arm over Enigma’s chest!
The official counts!
The crowd counts along!
ONE!
TWO!
THREEEEEEEEE-NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
SOMEHOW THE MONSTER MACHINE KICKS OUT!
The crowd falls into a shocked murmur and whisper!
JC: Wow! The Monster Machine just kicked out of the Empire Kick! SEB has fought his way back into this match, but at this point, you’ve gotta ask… What will it take to finish either of these men off?
Gradually, both wrestlers begin to stir. Enigma is first to his knees, then to his feet—his chest heaving, eyes locked on Everett-Bryce like a predator smelling blood.
JC: Enigma’s up. He’s shaking it off! The Monster Machine roars with life!
Sebastian Everett-Bryce pushes himself up using the ropes, legs unsteady, vision blurred—but fists clenched. He turns to face the beast.
The two men stand. They roar—and charge!
JC: AND HERE THEY GO!
In the center of the ring, they tee off on each other! Forearm strike from SEB!
Enigma returns fire with a clubbing shot!
Sebastian with a European uppercut!
Enigma with a forearm to the jaw!
BG: This is a fistfight in the center of a minefield! They’re just tryin’ to outlast the pain now!
Sebastian fires a spinning backfist—but Enigma blocks and shoves SEB’s arm, spinning him face-to-face…
Where Enigma HEADBUTTS SEB clean between the eyes! Sebastian stumbles back, eyes glazed.
JCo: Oh no! That headbutt just rocked him—he’s out on his feet!
BG: Time to finish the story, big man!
Enigma wraps a massive hand around SEB’s throat and lifts him high into the air!
JC: He’s going for Questions and Answers! If he hits this? It’s over!
…QUESTIONS AND AN-
NO! SEB squirms mid-air, slips out behind Enigma, and lands on his feet! Hooks the waist!
Germ-
NO! Enigma breaks free—goes for a back elbow—SEB ducks—Enigma grabs again—SEB twists out—Sebastian goes behind again—Enigma spins—
BG: Too fast! Too wild! WHO'S GOT WHO?!
The crowd is in a frenzy as both men fight tooth and nail for the advantage.
SEB goes for another desperate backfist!
…But Enigma dips under AND HEADBUTTS SEB FROM BEHIND!
…Seb drops onto his face!
JC: Oh my GOD! That was hideous!
BG: That’s gotta be it!
Enigma peels SEB’s exhausted broken body off the mat…
And shoves him toward the ropes! Looking for a pop-up CHOK-
WITH ONE LAST BURST OF LIFE, SEB BREAKS INTO A SPRINT OFF ENIGMA’S SHOVE!
BG: What the?!? Was SEB playing possum?
JC: He’s running on fumes, Brody! He knows it’s now or it’s curtains!
Enigma’s caught off-guard as SEB springs OFF THE ROPES…
EMPIRE KICK!
JC: EMPIRE KICK! AGAIN! RIGHT ON THE BUTTON!
Enigma’s head snaps back—his body stiffens—and the Monster Machine stalls out!
Sebastian collapses on top of him!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!!!
[DING DING DING!]
WINNER: SEBASTIAN EVERETT-BRYCE
JC: He did it! He did it! Sebastian Everett-Bryce has toppled the Monster Machine! Against all odds, against the pain, the fury—he found a way to win!
BG: I don’t believe it… That slippery son of a gun pulled it off. He dodged a bear trap and fired a missile straight through its heart.
Sebastian rolls onto his back, staring up at the lights, chest rising and falling as if the weight of a mountain has been lifted. The ref raises his arm. The crowd gives a standing ovation.
JC: Enigma brought hell… but Sebastian Everett-Bryce brought heart. What. A. Match.
Inside Peter Principle’s office…
…The office blinds open narrowly… As Warfare GM, Peter Principle peers out the window.
"I’m sick of it, Pip."
"These people… just… STOPPED respecting me."
…Pip Collins, Warfare Assistant GM, grits his teeth, as if holding back a laugh.
"... I mean. I don’t think they *just* stopped."
"Between the Revolution scum taking over my broadcast with their commie talk… And the Black Rainbow LITERALLY taking over my broadcast with MIND CONTROL? I’m putting my foot down! And when I put it down, I’m putting it THROUGH the skulls of these little miscreants!"
"They’re gonna see, Collins. You mess with the bull? You get the HORNS!"
…
"Who am I?"
…Pip scratches his head.
"Uh. The Warfare GM?"
"No. Who am I?"
Collins exhales. "The bull?"
"No, actually, I’m Principal Vernon from Breakfast Club." Peter shakes his head. "You’re terrible at guessing impressions!"
…
"That was an impression? You didn’t even change your voice! I thought you meant you were the bull and you were gonna give the Revolution and Black Rainbow the horns!"
"Oh, I am, Pip! I am very horny!"
…
"Me so horny! Full Metal Jacket."
"No, yeah, I… I got that one."
"Then why didn’t you guess it?"
"You didn’t give me a chance!
"Well, I’m glad you got it ‘cause I really thought I walked in on something here."
"Ahh!" Principle nearly jumps straight out of his office chair… "It’s that scissor-arm thing from Silent Hill that killed Ned Kaye!"
"No, it’s just…" …Collins’ expression flattens, as if his ability to calculate and plan ahead didn’t account for this new variable! Aurora."
Principle peers over his chair! "How’d you get in here, demon woman?!"
"It’s this fancy invention that dates back to at least 12,000 BCE. They call it a doorway."
…Indeed, while Peter was doing impressions and plotting attacks on his foes, his door was just plain open.
Pip sighs as he goes about his duties.
"What he *should* have asked was… what are you doing here? Didn’t Peter give you the night off?"
"...I did?"
…Collins exhales and nods.
"Oh! I did! Hey, I thought I gave you the night off? For Maternity leave!"
The comment pings a slight but noticeable twinge in Aurora's countenance.
"*cough*Arm and leg injury!*cough*"
"I mean, for that arm and leg injury! Speaking of which, how is your arm? And leg?"
"It’s… ugh, it’s fine. Thanks."
"Oh, good! Then, I guess it’s fine you’re here!"
"No. It’s not." Pip bites with an edge.
"Oh. I mean! It’s NOT fine you’re here." Peter’s visage also darkens, mostly to match his associate’s.
"Again… What are you doing here?"
"Oh, well, you know. A little bit of this… A little bit of that. Thought maybe I’d cheer on my former partner in the main event… If that’s okay with you fellas."
"If you wanted to support your partner, you could have sent them a text… And watched the match from the comfort of your own home."
"True. But I haven’t missed a Warfare since I’ve been here, so why stop now?"
…Pip tilts his neck at Principle, gesturing for him to handle it.
…Peter taps his nose.
"Rory. I love that you stopped by. I really do. You’re a great add to the roster. After all, you’re Crimson Kline’s kid! A second-genera-"
"No. That’s not her."
"...Oh. But, of course, you’re the CEO of a multi-million dollar fitness emp-"
"Not her either."
…
Principle reaches for his desk and flips through the cards in his rolodex.
…
He stops on one that just says "Aurora"
…Under it, it says ‘Borealis’.
…
Principle flips the card away.
"Ror, let me be a little blunt. I gave you the show off because you looked like you really needed it."
"That’s not true."
"...It’s not?"
"You gave Aurora the show off because *we* don’t need her this week."
"Oh, right! That’s right." Principle nods, before turning back to Aurora. "We simply don’t need you this week."
"We have our new Television Champion defending his championship valiantly tonight with absolutely no hesitation whatsoever in a main event that we’re honestly quite proud of."
"We have our new Television! And it’s… uh… valiant and it doesn’t hesitate… mainly… and we’re very proud of it. It’s at least 65 inches."
Pip glares up at Aurora.
"And our new Television Champion Larry Tact didn’t tap out like a little bitch last show… just saying."
"Yeah, and Lar-..." …Principle’s face suddenly reddens. "Oh.
…Principles fans his hand to cover his mouth, whispering to Pip.
"Do you want me to call her a bitch?"[/small]
"..."[/small]
"The point’s made. Larry’s not the one who tapped out at MayDay."
With pursed lips, Aurora nodded her head.
"Nope. You're right, Pip. He most certainly did not."
"...Anyway, we’re all good here for this show. Why don’t you, like, go back to California Stream or something?"
"Arizona Bay."
…
Principle turns over his rolodex card.
"Of course I MEANT Arizona Bay."
"It doesn’t really matter where, though, does it?"
"...I dunno? Does it?"
"No, it doesn’t."
"Ah! No, it doesn’t." Principle repeats at Aurora, without malice, just genuinely jedi mindtricked into repeating Pip like a parrot.
"Look, get outta here, okay? I… I’ll find something for you to do at Rebellion. I promise."
"We promise!"
"Maybe catering could use you to buss tables…"[/small]
Pip snickers at his own joke.
"Ohhhhh!" Principle’s eyes widen, before turning to Aurora with a newfound interest. "Do you do catering? Can you send a quote of your services for an arena event l-"
"I was kidding."
…
"...kidding!" Principle laughs, like he just got the joke, while smacking Aurora on the arm.
…Aurora eyes Collins.
"Are you?"
…Principle always turns to Collins.
"Am I?"
…Collins sighs and nods again.
"I AM kidding. Look at me being all jovial and facetious with you! You get a whole week off and some gentle ribbing! Great boss, huh!"
Principle starts to walk toward his office door, guiding Aurora out of it.
"It’s not permanent, of course. It’s just… you need to take care of yourself! You’re not getting any younger! Maybe the wear and tear of not taking all that time off is finally catching up to you? You had a rough go of it lately, especially in the Ides of March."
"I’m fine. I've had a rough go, but I’ve also had some time to think. I can’t take back the Ides final or MayDay 3, but I do *want* to be here. I still have something to contribute."
"Yes! The catering!"
"No, you were kidding!"
"...She was kidding?"
"YOU WERE!" Pip points at Peter.
"I WAS!" Peter points at himself. "...Look, I’m getting confused."
"Like you weren’t already…"
"Just do me this one little favor and let yourself heal for a while. Tonight, I have a crack squad, ALL ready to take care of the Commie Black Rainbow problem."
"Commie Black Rainbow?"
"He meant the communists AND the Black Rainbow."
"Oh-" Aurora purses her lips for a moment. "What do you mean crack squ-"
"Yessssssss, they tried to take over my MayDay broadcast with their little psy-op aggression conditioning video! They want me aggressive? They’ve GOT me aggressive! I’m going to personally BLOT OUT the Rainbow!
…
Principle grins.
"And you!"
[small]"Me?"[/small]
…
……
"Should rest!"
"We’re going to need you at your best when the time comes to finish the fight!"
"Finish… the fight? Wait, now I’m confused. The one against the Communists or the one against Black Rainbow?"
"He means the one against what’s *left* of Black Rainbow."
"Oh yes. Didn’t you know? Black Rainbow’s valiant cult leader Gorgo took her ball and went home. Gave Pipster her resignation. Just like that… Boom! Gone! And soon, the rest of Black Rainbow along with her!"
"And soon, anyone who had any ties with Gorgo will be a distant memory along with her."
"Mmm… yes, soon. They will be compromised to a permanent end… and Pip and I have the best our roster can possibly offer, Minus our Kings of course, on the job. So you don’t have to worry, Miss Borealis. We’ll be more than happy to have you right back where you do your best work…"
"In…" Principle skims the rolodex card one more time. "Catering."
"The tag division."
"The tag division! I meant!"
"I’m sure we can find you a new partner. Perhaps Latoya Hixx and Razor Blade can take you on as an apprentice."
Aurora glares down at Pip, and then up at Principle, who is doing a terrible job at hiding his amusement.
After a long, drawn out silence between them, Aurora finally lifts her head.
"Fine, if you need me, I’ll be in catering."
She glares down at Pip one last time.
"Bussing the kiddie table."
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 here comes the 'Wylde Child'! I think she's a dark horse coming into this match, but don't try telling her that! She made it clear that she is determined to walk away from Warfare with Larry's TV Championship around HER waist!
BG: How can a dark horse be so pale? It doesn't make sense! And that's why, I think Lucy Wylde is the ultimate wildcard! She's a quick thinker, and she's even quicker on her feet. Needless to say, Larry Tact is going to have his hands full tonight: but only if he can catch her!
"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.
BG: THE TACTILIZING ONE is making his way to the ring with his XWF Television Championship! He came away with a HUGE win against Aurora to earn the title, and now, he's facing one of her best friends here tonight! Now that's drama, mama!
JC: Larry Tact's first defense STARTS NOW! Let's see if he has what it takes to hang onto the greatest strap on TV!
Larry Tact steps forward as the bell rings, his presence both methodical and commanding. He stops dead center in the ring and raises his arms, beckoning Lucy Wylde forward with a cocky smirk. He wants a test of strength, a pure contest of power: but Lucy Wylde doesn't seem so sure! Lucy eyes him from her corner, biting her lip as she considers his proposal. The crowd starts to stir, sensing the mismatch. She paces in a slow half-circle, her eyes locked on Tact’s imposing frame. She lifts one hand tentatively, then the other. She inches closer to Larry, their hands just about to meet....
WHAP!
Lucy slaps Larry's hand aside and dropkicks him in the chest!
BG: Larry wanted a test of strength, and instead, he got a chest full of feet! Smart move by the Wylde Child!
JC: Chest full of feet? You're into some weird stuff, Brody: but I won't judge you! Not while we're live on air!
Tact stumbles backwards, clearly caught off guard. Lucy quickly dashes to the ropes and rebounds before coming back. A loud CRACK is heard through the arena as Lucy grabs Tact by the head and slams him to the mat with a running bulldog. The crowd roars as Tact rolls to his hands and knees. But Lucy Wylde isn't done yet! Lucy kips up before darting over to the ropes, leaping onto them before leaping off of them just as quickly! Wylde delivers a springboard moonsault off the second rope! She hooks Tact's leg for the pin!
1!
KICKOUT!!!
JC: It's going to take a lot more than that to keep the champion down, but so far tonight, it looks like Lucy might have the right stuff to do it!
BG: Larry needs to switch into high-gear here! He's got to get something going, or else he's just going to be a sitting duck in there!
But Tact's not done yet! He throws a shoulder up before pushing the smaller wrestler off of him. A growl of frustration breaks through Larry's calm facade, but Lucy is intent on keeping the pressure up. She rebounds off the rope before jumping in the air and trying to catch Tact with a DDT: but the big man just throws her off of him, causing Lucy to land back first on the mat! As Lucy sits up, Tact charges forward and delivers a running knee right to her skull! The brutal echo of bones clashing rings out through the arena.
JC: Talk about a momentum shift! I think Larry might've just shifted Lucy into a new reality with that running knee! I'm not sure she even knows where she is anymore!
BG: In most situations, what Larry Tact just did would be a felony! But here in the XWF....we just call it awesome!
Larry Tact peels Lucy Wylde off the mat by the wrist, yanking her to her feet like a ragdoll. She stumbles, barely steady, as Tact barrels forward with a lariat that nearly turns her inside out! The crowd explodes as Lucy folds awkwardly, her chest heaving against the canvas. Tact doesn't hesitate, he just yanks her back up, scooping her sideways into the air before driving her spine across his knee with a rib-crunching backbreaker.
Lucy gasps, her body twitching, but Tact still isn't done!
JC: Larry is taking complete control of this match, Brody! He has the size advantage and he is using it expertly! As long as he's got a hold of Lucy, she's not going anywhere!
BG: That's why he's the champion! His presence is a dominating one. They call him 'The Tactilizing One' for a reason, you know! And if you didn't know, well...just watch and learn, baby! Cause class is in session, and Professor Tact is giving lessons!
He hoists her up again, his raw strength on display as he presses her overhead in a military press. The crowd hoops and hollers as Larry Tact parades Lucy's body around the ring....until....BOOM! He lets her crash face first onto to the mat from up high. She bounces once from the impact, her body landing flat. Tact creeps over to her, grabbing a fistful of her hair to flip her over before scooping her leg for a pinfall attempt.
1!
2!
KICKOUT!
JC: Lucy barely got a shoulder up in time!
BG: Tact has taken her to the woodshed so far tonight, but I can sense that she still has some fight left in her! Now, she just has to make sure she gives it to Larry Tact...preferably sooner than later!
TEN MINUTES LEFT
Larry rolls his eyes at the referee's slow count before picking Lucy up and flinging her into the corner post. The force of the irish whip sends Lucy flying into the turnbuckle post like a missile! Lucy slams against the turnbuckles, then slumps. That's when Tact charges before leaping into the air with a corner body splash! The ring trembles as Lucy collapses at Tact’s feet.
JC: The champion has Lucy right where he wants her, Brody! Laying lifeless at his feet!
BG: The Tactilizing One is putting on a performance for the ages here tonight!
Larry Tact looks down at Aurora with a soft grin before turning his gaze out towards the fans in the arena. Larry Tact parades around the ring, soaking in the applause of the crowd with his arms raised in triumph. The cheers are almost deafening! Lucy, meanwhile lies motionless on the mat, a lifeless heap of flesh and frustration. As Tact parades, she slowly starts to stir, eventually dragging herself out of the ring with every ounce of strength she can muster. But when Tact turns, his eyes finally fall on her, and his grin falters into a flash of irritation. He bolts out of the ring after her!
JC: She's on the run from The Tactilizing One!
BG: If she's smart, she won't let him catch her! But if Tact was smart, he never would've wasted so much time showboating in the first place! This little cat-and-mouse game is his own damn fault!
Lucy, not about to let him catch her so easily, sprints away in a desperate race! She's ducking and weaving around the ring as Tact snarls behind her, his anger growing with every step. The cat-and-mouse game takes them around the ring once, twice, thrice: until Lucy finally dives back into the ring with Tact close behind! But as soon as Tact slides into the ring and catches up with Lucy...she rolls him up into a cradle!!!
1!
2!!
3-NO!
KICKOUT!!!
Lucy can't believe it, but somehow Tact kicked out of the cradle right at the 3! In the blink of an eye, both wrestlers are back on their feet. Both are exhausted, but neither is willing to back down. Lucy surveys Tact, preparing for her next move: but Tact has less tact. Larry just charges towards her, looking to smash her body against the ropes: but Lucy is ready! She drops down, pulling the ropes with her, sending Larry flying over them and tumbling to the outside! He lands with a hard thud on his head as he crashes to the floor. Without wasting any time, Lucy hits the opposite ropes before she dives over the top rope with a suicide dive, crashing into Tact! The crowd goes wild as the wrestlers lay collapsed atop each other outside the ring.
JC: SUICIDE DIVE! SUICIDE DIVE!
BG: Lucy knows why they call it that, right?! That move may have done more damage to her than it did to her opponent!
JC: Say what you want about her tactics, she's putting on a show for the people here tonight! One they will never forget!
5 MINUTES LEFT
Eventually, Lucy rises to her feet, pulling Larry with her. She rolls him in, breathing heavy as she quickly covers him for the pin—
1!
2!!
KICKOUT!!!
Larry Tact just barely manages to kick out, throwing Lucy off of him as the adrenaline surges through his body. Larry slowly pushes himself up to a knee, then rises fully. Lucy charges forward a forearm, but Larry simply swats her away like a fly. Then, he darts forward with vicious lariat for Lucy, but she slides under it! Lucy pops up behind Larry before delivering a brutal kick to his knee that forces him to stumble. In a flash, Lucy locks in her dreaded Nightmare Sleeper, twisting around him like a deadly snake!
BG: Nightmare Sleeper! She's going for the submission here, and it looks like it's locked in tight! Tact might tap! Tact might tap!
JC: There's no way for him to go now, Brody! Lucy is completely twisted around him, and she's choking the life out of the champion!
Tact stumbles, gasping for air, the crowd roaring in anticipation of a tap-out. He struggles as the referee gets in his face, asking him if he wants to quit. With a sudden burst of strength, Larry Tact screams 'NO!' before he runs back first into the corner, driving Lucy's body into the turnbuckle. The force of the collision causes Lucy to break the hold. Then, Tact spins around and crumples Lucy with a crushing back elbow!
JC: Well that's one way to break a submission!
Lucy lies motionless on the mat as Larry Tact stands over her, the crowd in a stunned silence. With a grin he reaches down, yanking her up by the arm. Without hesitation, he hoists her up in a Torture Rack position. The crowd winces as he spins her, violently launching her into the Tactilizer—the Torture Rack spinout powerbomb- slamming her body into the mat with earth-shattering force. The ring shakes beneath the impact, the sound of her spine crashing against the canvas echoing through the arena. Lucy’s body lies crumpled and limp beneath him as Tact hooks the leg with brutal finality. The referee starts the count.
1!
2!
KICKOUT!!!!
Somehow, miraculously, Lucy gets a shoulder up! The crowd erupts in disbelief, but Tact’s expression hardens, his frustration mounting as he stares down at the resilient fighter beneath him.
BG: Lucy kicked out!
Larry looks frustrated, but determined. He slowly rises to his feet, grabbing Lucy just like he's done a thousand times already this match....but this time, she's ready! As Larry tries to pick Lucy up, she grabs him and executes a flawless arm drag that sends the champion reeling across the ring! As Larry scurries back to his feet, Lucy gets deep into her bag of tricks as she charges the ropes....
FOR A SPRINGBOARD ACE CUTTER!
IT CONNECTS, AND LARRY TACT IS OUT COLD!
BG: Wylde Liberation! She just hit the Wylde Liberation!
JC: This one has to be over now! Or at least, Lucy had better hope it is! Time is running out!
1 MINUTE LEFT
Lucy looks over to the clock that's running on the X-tron, noticing that time is slipping away. She crawls atop the champion, dragging her arm onto his chest for a pinfall.
ONE!
TWO!
KICKOUT!
BG: How much fight does Larry Tact have left?!?!
JC: Hopefully, enough to survive another 45 seconds! All he has to do is outlast the timer here!
The crowd goes bonkers as Larry just slightly moves his shoulder, barely lifting it off the ground at all. Lucy, meanwhile, appears distraught as she looks back up at the timer on the X-tron!
30 SECONDS LEFT
The final thirty seconds are ticking down like war drums echoing across the battlefield. The arena is in chaos, the crowd roaring so loud it threatens to tear the roof clean off the rafters. Larry is sprawled flat on the canvas half-aware, half-unconscious. Every breath he draws is a battle, but Larry's battered body can barely manage the fight.
Across the ring, Lucy literally drags herself toward the ropes like a soldier clawing through a minefield, every muscle in her body screaming in agony. Her fingertips scrape the bottom rope—then the middle—then finally, finally she clutches the top strand like it’s a lifeline to glory.
Fifteen seconds.
The crowd starts chanting her name as time winds down.
“LU-CY! LU-CY! LU-CY!”
With a warrior’s growl, she hauls herself to her feet and scales the ropes one by one: first the bottom, then the middle, then up to the top turnbuckle. Her limbs tremble, her body sways in the windless height. But her eyes? Her eyes are locked onto her destiny.
Ten seconds
JC: What's Lucy have in mind here? Her fifteen minutes of fame are running out!
Lucy steadies herself atop the ropes and takes a deep breath.
Then.....
SHE GOES FLYING!
Lucy launches from the top rope, her body twisting through the heavens like a falling star. She twirls through the air and spins not once, but twice!
A DOUBLE ROTATION!
CALAMITY FROM THE SKIES!!!
Her body crashes down perfectly across Larry’s chest with a thunderous sound, driving the air from his lungs and draining the hope from his eyes. The whole ring bounces under the impact. Fans leap from their seats, hands on heads, mouths agape.
FIVE SECONDS
Lucy hooks the leg.
1!
2!
3!!!
Time expires, but the count came first!
BG: IT’S OVER!
Winner and NEW CHAMPION - Lucy Wylde
Lucy lies motionless atop Larry, her chest rising and falling with ragged, victorious breaths. The referee raises her limp arm as the announcer bellows her name.
The arena goes nuclear!
BG: Against all odds, Lucy Wylde pulled out the Wyldecard victory with no time remaining on the clock! Some people thought she would never come this far, but tonight, she proved all the doubters and the haters wrong!
JC: That's right, Brody! Lucy battled from start to finish, and tonight, we crown a new Television Champion!
BG: PRAISE HER NAME!
The bell is brought to the ring just as Lucy pulls herself up to her feet. The referee hands her the belt and raises her hand once more as the crowd goes nuts. As Larry lay lifeless on the mat, Lucy Wylde stumbles towards the turnbuckles. The newly crowned champion pulls herself up onto the top rope, and showcases her new championship belt to the world. A smile curls across her lips as the curtains finally close on Warfare!
THANKS TO EVERYONE WHO CONTRIBUTED TO THIS SHOW
Match Writers
"The Bashmaster" Barry Masterson
Charlie Nickles
Peter Principle
Segment Writers
Jimmy Stars
Dolly Waters
Charlie Nickles
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