LIVE FROM FROST BANK CENTER
SAN ANTONIO, TEXAS
Betsy Granger
- vs -
Latoya Hixx Singles
Barney Green
- vs -
“Psycho” Solomon X-Treme Rules
Jennie Nickles
- vs -
Dwayne “The Grok” Johnson Singles
Tatiana Jolee
- vs -
Amber Mansley Singles
Atara Raven
- vs -
John Black Ladder Match
Scoops McGee
- vs -
Sebastian Everett-Bryce Texas Death Match In order to win, a competitor must first pin their opponent and then ensure they fail to respond to a 10-count to win.
JC: Folks, it’s our first match of the night, and this one features one of the most exciting returns we’ve had in years! An XWF staple is making their way back home!
BG: And they came a long way to get here, Jacko!
As the opening notes begin, the lights go out, save for a single spotlight on the top of the stage. Betsy comes out, but she’s only a silhouette at this point. Just as the drum strikes it’s second note, Betsy dabs and the lights come back. The song starts from the refrain as Betsy starts dancing down the ramp.
“Sin City’s cold and empty
No one’s around to judge me
I can’t see clearly when you’re gone-one-one”
Arms out, Betsy begins twirling around wildly, blonde ponytail whipping about with her, as she slaps hands with fans on both sides of the ramp.
JC: What an absolutely shocking way to kick off the first show after Relentless! The Impossible Traveler has returned to the XWF, folks! Betsy Granger — a long-time fan-favorite returns from across the multiverse, back to prove she still belongs among the elite!
BG: You mean she left space to come here? What’s wrong with her GPS?
JC: You can’t keep an adventurer grounded forever, Brody.
BG: Fair enough — but she’s steppin’ back into orbit against a woman who isn’t known for being gentle on re-entry! The one-woman hurricane, the Storm herself, Latoya Hixx!
“And I said ooooh, I’m blinded by the lights
I can’t sleep until I feel your touch
And I said ooooh, I’m drowning in the night
Oh, when I’m like this, you’re the one I trust”
…Wait, as Betsy circles the ring… Latoya Hixx is charging down the ramp!
JC: Whoa! Whoa! It looks like Latoya isn’t waiting for Betsy’s entrance to wrap up to get a piece of her!
Betsy goes to roll under the bottom rope… But Latoya catches up with her, giving her a forearm smash in the skull!
BG: Oh my! This one didn’t get to the ring before it popped off!
The official bends through the ropes, ordering both competitors into the ring…
But Latoya instead irish whips Betsy into…
THE RINGSIDE steel steps! Betsy rebounds spine-first off the steel… cradling her back…
Latoya pounds her chest, screaming… STOOOOOOOOOORM!
She suddenly charges at Betsy…
But Betsy leaps from the pole to the barricade! Latoya’s boots awkwardly clatters off the pole!
As Betsy springs into a MOONSAULT off the barricade! Taking Latoya off her feet!
JC: Wow! Aerial ballet! Betsy hasn’t lost a step!
…Betsy wraps her hands around Latoya’s skull, trying to shove her under the ropes to start the match…
But Latoya catches Betsy in the ribs with an elbow! Betsy doubles over!
And Latoya follows it up with a closed-fist shot to the skull, driving Betsy up the ramp!
The two woman grab each other by the skull and start swinging, backing up the ramp…
And behind the curtain!
JC: …Wow! Are… Are those two gonna have a match tonight?
BG: Sometimes you can’t wait for things like a ring bell and a referee! Sometimes you just gotta throw hands!
JC: Well, this match never officially started but… we’ll keep you posted as to what happened as things progress!
JC: Folks, there’s a lot of narratives! There’s a lot of energy coming straight out of Relentless weekend, funneled directly into this GRUDGE MATCH!
"Dethrone" by Bad Omens 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.
JC: Folks, I don’t think anyone entered and exited Relentless weekend with a bigger turn-around in their morals and values than ‘Psycho’ Solomon! He betrayed his long-time mentor, XWF Legend Blizzard! He SOLD his SOUL to the Corporation!
BG: And he won the biggest match of his career thus far, defending our territory as a member of Team XWF! Run your match all you want, Jacko! But ol’ ‘Psycho’ Solomon went from being trapped under Aidan Collins’ thumb to being a megastar! With the Corporation’s backing, imagine how high this kid will soar!
JC: I can’t deny his talent! He found a way to dig deep and neutralize one of the most talented competitors in PWV HISTORY, Amber Bane-Ryan, with an insane Vertebreaker off the ramp! I have no disrespect for Kline as a competitor, but his recent choices are despicable!
As the lyrics come in, he stands, removes his hood and surveys the crowd as sparks rain down around him. He grooves his way down the ramp, and high fives fans along the way, rocking out to the song, letting out a primal scream, "Here am I, take me to the pearly gates, so I can look you in the eye when I spit in your face!"
‘Psycho’ rolls under the bottom rope, walking to his corner, getting set for action…
…
"Realize" By AC/DC starts to play as the fans immediately jump to their feet with cheer. Out walks Barney Green, dressed in his classic ring gear. He slowly walks out and waves at the fans. He walks down to the ring and enters it. He waits in the corner as his music fades, but the crowd’s standing ovation never stops.
JC: XWF Legend! THE GREEN MACHINE! Barney Green! He’s one of the most X-treme, most Hardcore, and most Beloved wrestlers to ever pass through our federation! And at Relentless weekend, he specifically returned after a lengthy hiatus, solely to check a box off his bucket list! A once-in-a-lifetime DREAM MATCH between two legends: Barney Green and BLIZZARD!
BG: Green got the match! And, shockingly, he pulled off the upset against one of the best to ever run the ropes of the XWF ring! But critics can’t help but wonder if Green got the victory thanks to Kline softening up Blizz with that sudden post-match attack two days before!
JC: It certainly puts a damper on Barney’s redemption story! But Barney could completely silence those critics and prove himself the Living Legend he declares himself to be with a victory over ‘Psycho’ Solomon…
BG: OR! Kline beats TWO so-called Legends on back-to-back shows… And cements his status as a LEGEND KILLER!
The two men don’t meet in the center of the ring… There’s no friendliness, no pre-match banter…
Green is holding onto the ropes behind him with his hands, revving his engine like a car ready to take off at the checkered flag… Meanwhile, ‘Psycho’ is still in his corner, looking at the crowd… showing total disrespect to his opponent by not even facing him…
JC: Oooooh, it seems Kline doesn’t even want to pay Barney Green, The LIVING LEGEND, the respect of facing him…
The official is barking at ‘Psycho’ to turn ar-
…WAIT A SECOND! Barney’s jumpin’ the gun and charging at Kline!
And Kline has no idea!
STINGER SPLASH! Kline is FLATTENED against the turnbuckle!
JC: Never turn your back on Barney Green!
BG: That’s unsportsmanlike!
JC: It’s X-Treme Rules, Brody!
The official shrugs and rings the bell!
Barney Green
- vs -
’Psycho’ Solomon X-Treme Rules
Kline goes down from Barney’s pre-bell attack, leaning against the bottom turnbuckle!
Barney plods out of the corner… Jogging backwards into the opposite corner!
JC: The Green Machine is looking like a freight train out here! And Kline’s lookin’ like he doesn’t have the fuel to get himself off the tracks!
Barney breaks into a run! Looking for a…
HIP SMASH ATTACK!
…
But Kline pulls himself under the bottom rope and down to the floor on his feet! Green puts on the brakes, stopping before he hits the corner…
BG: Wise move by ‘Psycho’ Solomon, rolling under the bottom rope to the outside!
JC: Something he might’ve learned from a veteran like Blizzard… y’know, before Kline *betrayed* him!
BG: He learned everything Blizz had to teach him already, Jacko!
Kline catches his breath on the outside, jaw-jacking with the fans in the front row who are barking at him to get back in the ring!
…SNATCH! Suddenly, from the outside, Barney, reaching through the middle ropes from inside the ring, grabs Kline by the top of his skull and tries to drag him back inside like a demon dragging someone into Hell itself!
JC: Oh shit! Barney clearly looking to exact some retribution on Kline for Sol attacking his dream opponent days before their showdown!
Kline kicks, trying to loosen Barney’s grip… But his feet slowly leave the floor as Barney pulls him up!
JC: Dear GOD! The strength on display right now from Barney Green!
Barney manages to pull Kline up onto the apron! Barney retracts his head from the middle rope, and pulls his head over the top rope, seeking a front-facelock to suplex Kline back into the ring!
…But Kline instead wraps his mitts around Green’s head… And drops down to the floor, STUNGUNNING Green’s throat across the top rope!
The Green Machine sputters onto his back, clutching at his larynx!
JC: Underhanded tactic there by ‘Psycho’ Solomon!
BG: Jacko, YOU just told ME! X-Treme Rules! Nothing’s underhanded when everything and the kitchen sink is an option!
Green lies in the center of the ring, squeezing at his throat…
But ‘Psycho’ Solomon grabs Barney’s ankle from outside the ring, and spins him toward the turnbuckle pole, dragging him into position…
BG: I tell ya, Jacko! Since last Relentless, we’re seeing a new side of ‘Psycho’ Solomon… someone more twisted, more ruthless… More willing to do what needs to be done to secure the win!
Sol aims Barney’s legs between the poles… AND PULLS WITH ALL HE’S GOT!
WHAM! Barney’s family jewels are RAMMED into the pole! Barney sits up, as his face contorts with pain, howling in agony!
JC: Devastating maneuver there by Kline!
BG: Win or lose, I guarantee the transvestite prostitutes Barney likes to celebrate with after a match are going to need a lot of ice for Barney’s… ‘machine’ to function!
Kline doesn’t let up for a minute, instead raising the apron and reaching under the bottom rope! The crowd pops, eager to see some weaponized violence here…
And Kline retrieves…
A KENDO STICK!
JC: Oh my! There’s almost no one more dangerous in the XWF with a kendo stick than Solomon Kline!
BG: He’s a self-described Kendo Stick Specialist, Jackie boy! He knows at least 72 ways to break a man with that thing! And it’s X-Treme Rules, so all 72 of them are at his disposal tonight!
Kline rolls back under the bottom rope, as Green forces himself up to his feet, pulling himself upright by the middle turnbuckle…
Green turns around…
WHAM! Strike to the gut with the kendo stick doubles Barney over!
WHACK! A kendo stick strike straight to the skull sends Barney staggering back into the corner…
JC: This match has been all Kline thus far! How can Barney turn this momentum around?!?
Kline raises his stick, looking for a finishing strike with a strike across Green’s dome…
But Barney charges out of the corner, surprising the ‘Psycho’ with a…
SPEAR! SPEAR! SPEAR!
Barney shoulder-tackles Kline down to the mat! The kendo stick drops into the corner of the ring as Kline cradles his stomach!
BG: What the hell! How did Barney manage tah… what the?!?
JC: Barney Green has taken a LOT of shots to the skull over the years! He takes a lickin’ and the Green Machine keeps on tickin’!
Barney rises up off Kline as the crowd chants…
GREEN MACHINE! GREEN MACHINE! GREEN MACHINE!
Barney smiles his twisted smile… as he rolls to the outside. He throws up the apron reaches under the ring…
BG: Oh God… Solomon’s a ‘psycho’ but Barney Green is INSANE! Who knows what he’ll find under the ring…
Barney retrieves…
AN ECONOMY PACK OF LIGHT-TUBES! FOUR FOR THE PRICE OF ONE!
BG: OH GOD NO!
JC: Barney Green bringing among his favorite weapons to the fight… Light Tubes!
The crowd goes absolutely nuts as Barney rolls under the bottom rope… Just as Kline punches the mat, forcing his way up to his feet…
Barney pulls a light tube out of his pack… As Kline sees what’s going on…
JC: Barney has Kline right where he wants him! Unarmed while Barney has his favorite weapon in hand…
Barney rotates the light tube in his hand, feeling its weight, like a batter getting ready to hit a homerun!
Kline eyes his opponent, mentally timing when to dodge Barney’s light tube swing…
…Barney reaches into the pack again…
And pulls out a SECOND light tube!
JC: Is Barney choosing to dual-wield light tubes!?!
The crowd goes nuts as Barney holds two light tubes in his hands…
Kline’s eyes momentarily widen…
As Barney…
…
TOSSES KLINE THE OTHER LIGHT TUBE!
BG: What the hell is wrong with Barney Green?!?
Kline, almost caught off-guard, catches the flying light tube in mid-air…
As Barney rotates his own in hand, like he’s ready for a sword fight LIGHT TUBE BATTLE!
JC: Barney Green deciding to make this a little more sportsmanlike! He’s always been in this game for a challenge and he’d rather fight Kline armed than unarmed!
…Kline grins sadistically as he feels the weight of the light tube in his hands… The two slowly circle strafe around the ring, like light tube samurai, each eager for the battle to begin…
Kline dives into the center to strike first! SWIPING STRIKE ACROSS THE CHEST!
…But Barney ducks under with surprising agility!
Kline converts his sideways swing into an OVERHEAD STRIKE!
Which Barney manages to block with his own weapon!
…And both light tubes shatter in their hands! Kline’s light tube shatters to pieces while Green’s breaks in half in his hands!
The crowd goes nuts!
JC: …Oh…. Right… I got so excited for the vibes, I forgot for a second light tubes are made of glass! They’re probably the worst thing in the world to sword fight with!
BG: Barney was aura farmin’ so hard, he forgot the laws of matter and physics, like when a cartoon stands off the edge of a cliff and doesn’t fall!
Kline drops the shards of glass left in his hand, seeking to grapple Barney by the skull…
BUT BARNEY DRIVES HIS REMAINING HALF-A-LIGHT-TUBE INTO KLINE’S GUT!
Kline grabs his stomach, spinning to shield his front from future attacks…
JC: Holy shit! Barney might’ve just tried to stab Kline in the stomach with what’s left of his light tube!
Barney tosses away the light tube chunks… as he surges forward, wrapping Kline in a…
CROSSFACE CHICKENWING!
JC: OH MY GOD! BARNEY GREEN! BARNEY GREEN MIGHT PULL OFF ANOTHER UPSET! CAN YOU BELIEVE IN MIRACLES?!?
The crowd goes absolutely nuts as Kline’s hands surge backwards, trying to break Green’s grip… But despite Kline’s desperate thrashing, Green holds on!
BG: FIGHT OUT, ‘PSYCHO’! NOOOOO!
JC: Barney’s almost got it locked it tighter than Fort Knox! If he can get Sol off his feet…
Barney brings his head forward over Sol’s shoulder, to get additional torque and get Solomon on his back, dead center of the ring…
But ‘Sol’ manages to reach over his shoulder… And JAM his THUMB into Barney’s eyepatch!
JC: Oh GOD! Kline is trying to handle Barney’s skull like a bowling ball with how deep he’s trying to force a digit into Green’s eye socket!
Barney… Barney clings on! Still trying to fight Kline off his feet!
JC: Holy shit! How tough is Barney Green?!?
…
BUT THE PAIN IS TOO MUCH! Green eventually has tocover his brutalized eye! And Kline drops onto his knees, still gripping Barney’s head for a jawbreaker!
BG: Absolutely ruthless counter by Kline!
Green looks dazed on his feet… as Kline hits him with an…
ASHES TO ASHES! And Green drops onto his back!
The crowd turns from being in Barney’s corner to being quiet…
JC: Uh oh… I think the crowd senses this one may be nearing its end…
Kline briefly drops onto his knees, like he’s going for a cover…
…
Then, he smiles… And returns to his feet…
JC: Oh no… what is going through Kline’s head right now?!?
BG: I dunno! But it’s nothing good for Barney! They don’t call Solomon ‘Psycho’ for nothin’!
Kline walks over and grabs…
THE LAST TWO LIGHT TUBES!
JC: Oh no!
The crowd pops with a palpable mix of enthusiasm and trepidation! They don’t wanna see Barney get maimed… BUT THEY FUCKING LOVE LIGHT TUBES!
Kline sets the light tubes up, side by side about a foot apart…
And then he drags Barney by the scalp off the mat and onto his feet…
Stuffing Green’s head between his legs…
JC: …Oh no…. No no no no!
BG: Oh yes! OH YES!
Kline hoists Green up into powerbomb position… Over the light tubes!
…Aaaaaaand…
PSYCHO DRIVER ONTO THE LIGHT TUBES! (Powerbomb into Sit-Out Chokeslam!)
GLASS SHATTERS HORRIFYINGLY UNDER BARNEY’S BACK!
GREEN WRITHES IN AGONY! WHICH ONLY MAKES IT WORSE!
JC: OH GOD I’M GONNA BE SICK!
Kline drives Green’s back onto the light and hooks the leg!
The official counts!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Winner: ‘Psycho’ Solomon
BG: What a match! What an absolutely dominant victory for the Corporation! And twice in back-to-back months, Kline has KILLED an XWF Legend!
JC: …ugh… I hope this isn’t the last we’ve seen of Barney Green… In fact, we may see these two meet again in the ring at WarGames, next month! But right now, I must admit, the victory goes to ‘Psycho’ Solomon!
BACKSTAGE
A group of employees and security staff are gathered around the catering table…
When all of a sudden, Betsy Granger gets shoved through the door to the room! Everyone scatters to the walls…
Latoya bursts through the door, aiming for a knockout blow!
JC: Oh my! It looks like this fight’s still going on between Betsy Granger and Latoya Hixx!
Betsy uneasily shoves herself back to her feet… Latoya howls like a raging storm, as she charges in with a…
LARIAT!
…
But Betsy ducks under and twists out, snatching Latoya’s wrist mid-spin!
And in a blink, transitions into a spinning armwringer!
Latoya yelps, caught off guard, her arm twisted tight.
JC: Wow! Absolutely mesmerizing maneuver by Betsy Granger! It’s like she hasn’t lost a single step!
Betsy doesn’t let up — she plants a boot against Latoya’s hip, rolls backward, aaaaaaand…
MONKEY FLIP! Betsy propels Latoya in a perfect arc through the air, across the room… A SPREAD OF DIPS AND CHIPS GOES FLYING!
BG: Aww, no, c’mon, y’all! I ain’t gotten to visit catering yet!
Hixx flips over the table with different bowls of meats and cheeses, shaking out her arm, her expression a mix of anger and embarrassment. She lunges back in, looking for a…
FOREARM SMASH!
…Only to get snatched into a…
Fujiwara armbar! Betsy tries to force Latoya to the ground!
…But Latoya like an ox, bucks her head, taking Betsy off her feet… And shoving her back through another door!
JC: Folks! This fight is NOT over! And when we can get eyes on it, we’ll keep you posted as it develops!
JC: Folks, this next match… Well, it’s… Controversial, to say the very least!
BG: Don’t bury the lede, Jacko! We have protestors outside, with signs and megaphones! Some people do not want this match to happen! They claim it’s disrespectful to the families of the vic-... Well, we’re gonna get into it, folks!
JC: And we’re gonna get into it, right now!
…
DO YOU CONCEIVE OF WHAT THE GROK IS DESCRIBING?
The lights in the arena dim as the announcer's voice booms over the sound system, introducing the next wrestler. Suddenly, Grok’s Theme fills the arena, and the crowd erupts into cheers as a bright spotlight illuminates the top of the ramp.
Dwayne “The Grok” Johnson steps out into the light, dressed in a black t-shirt, sweatpants and sunglasses. Beside him, typing away at his laptop he’s carrying in his hands is Elon Musk!
JC: It’s been a while since we’ve seen The Grok in the ring!
BG: What an absolute travesty, too! The last time we saw The Grok compete, he scored a shocking victory over Enigma! One of the best competitors in this industry!
JC: …Brody! Not ONLY did Grok cheat throughout that match… Not ONLY did he have Preesh and Puddin’ assisting him with interference… it took the UNIVERSAL CHAMPION getting involved for Grok to win that match!
BG: THE MOST ELECTRIFYING MACHINE IN SPORTS ENTERTAINMENT! That victory should have propelled him to the main event with Charlie! Before Dolly swooped in and stole it right from under Grok’s nose!
JC: *sigh* well, with Elon Musk and the Trillionaires in charge, Grok’s never been in better position to make a charge for the top! …But to make it? He’s going to have to survive his opponent tonight!
Grok strolls with savoir-faire and panache down the ramp as his entourage strolls in behind him.
THE GROK SAYS
THE GROK SAYS
THE GROK SAYS
As The Grok reaches the ring, he climbs up onto the apron and poses for the crowd, raising a single arm and lifting a single eyebrow.
The Grok hops off the top turnbuckle…
…
The curtain under the X-Tron parts.
Five armed prison guards step out first, clad in full tactical gear. Four of them are armed with bean-bag guns and pepper spray… full-on riot gear. But the one at the center? Is pushing a gurney.
Strapped to it, motionless except for the slight rise and fall of her chest, is Jennie Nickles. Her wrists and ankles are bound in thick leather restraints, and a metal facemask covers her mouth. Her eyes, however, stare unblinking at the ring ahead.
JC: Jennie Nickles… though fans of true-crime may know her better as THE SCARLET VERDICT!
BG: That’s NEVER been proven, Jacko! The real killer might still be out there! As far as we know, she’s a wrongly-convicted woman wronged by the justice system she longed to serve!
JC: She confessed, Jacko! She’s maintained she DID kill those people! And now she’s here, on a prison temporary release program, sponsored by her brother, former Universal champion, Charlie Nickles! I can honestly say, I have never had less of a clue of what’s about to happen than I do right now, as we are mere moments away from Jennie Nichols’s first match in the XWF!
The gurney is rolled slowly down the ramp, the guards taking short, careful steps. A spotlight follows them the entire way. Fans lean over the barricade to get a closer look—some shouting insults, others just silent.
Halfway down, Jennie’s eyes flick toward one heckler. Her body doesn’t move, but her pupils narrow. The fan stumbles back, visibly shaken, as if she just looked through him.
At ringside, the guards lift the gurney up to the apron, then unfasten the straps one by one. Another guard steps up, pointing his weapon at her, barking orders not to move until she’s been told to! Jennie looks straight ahead…
The guard nods at the other as he finishes with the straps… and finally removes the facemask…
The guard barks orders, reminding Jennie of her prison release… Jennie shows the faintest expression, rolling her eyes. She’s already very aware, just get on with it.
…Finally, the guard lowers his weapon and barks at her to get a move on!
Nickles slides off the gurney and stands straight, her posture unnaturally calm, almost regal, as she ascends the steps to enter the ring…
The two opponents stand across from each other… The Grok doing a quick last-minute systems check as Jennie disinterestedly stares ahead… knowing that the violent dance can’t begin until the bell rings…
…
The bell rings!
Jennie Nickles
- vs -
Dwayne ‘The Grok’ Johnson Singles
JC: And here we go! Dwayne “The Grok” Johnson versus The Scarlet Verdict herself, Jennie Nickles—what a clash of flesh and metal, Brody!
BG: I’ll tell you what, Jacko, even if Miss Nickles *is* a killer, WHICH I REMAIN UNCONVINCED OF! …We ain’t talkin’ about some criminal who got off with a smack-on-the-wrist, the Scarlet Verdict’s typical victim! We’re talking about a CYBERNETIC WRESTLER! this poor girl’s gonna get squashed flatter than a squirrel under a Tesla Cybertruck!
The Grok steps forward, each motion crisp and calculated—his posture unnervingly upright, head turning with perfect angular precision as if measuring Jennie’s every breath. His LED eyes flicker, scanning her stance.
WHO IN THE DIGITAL HELL ARE YOU?!?
Jennie, however, tilts her head. A slow smile creeps across her face. Her eyes narrow—not in fear, but in interest. Her shoulders relax, her movements languid and deliberate. She’s reading him just as he’s reading her.
JC: Interesting choice here by Nickles, coming out of the gate thoughtfully and deliberately, giving Grok time to size her up…
BG: Interesting? You mean, FOOLISH! The Grok can make millions of calculations in a second! This one’s already over!
Grok moves first— SNAP! Latching his smaller opponent into a collar-and-elbow tie-up! Jennie, feeling the tensile strength in his iron grip, frowns, as if this is a curious inconvenience!
BG: The prisoner is back inside of an iron cage, Jacko! Once the Grok has you in his mitts, there ain’ NO gettin’ out!
JC: Admittedly, Jennie, as far as my research indicates, is someone green in the ring! This may be a difficult challenge for her to overcome!
Jennie winces as her jaw clenches, her arm trembling under the Grok’s increased mechanical torque, as he converts his hold into a wristlock!
…But instead of resisting against the Grok’s opposing force…
Nickels yields! Rolling her shoulder and twisting under his arm, using his momentum to pivot behind him, into a hammerlock!
JC: Wow! Not a bad counter for a neophyte wrestler!
Grok’s animatronic face contorts with confusion, re-watching the real-time frame-by-frame to figure out how Jennie got behind him…
Until WHAM! Jennie kicks the back of his knee, sending the automaton staggering a step forward!
JC: Beautiful transition! Jennie Nickles just outmaneuvered a machine designed to calculate counters!
BG: Ctrl-Alt-Delete! Close some tabs! Reboot the system!
On the outside, Elon is rapidly tapping at keys, trying to restart Grok’s auto-counter processes…
Grok turns—his head rotates a fraction too far before snapping back into alignment…
But Jennie is already backing into the ropes, darting in with a…
FLYING FOREARM!
…SMACK! The subsequent sound is like a baseball bat hitting a metal pole!
…The Grok’s face turns a miniscule number of degrees from the force of Jennie’s strike…
While Nickles’ face contorts in pain… squeezing her knuckles, making sure she didn’t inadvertently break her hand…
JC: Possible miscalculation there by Jennie Nickles! Punching a robot in the face!
The Grok’s eyebrow raises like its on hydraulics! …Which it is!
KNOW YOUR ROLE!
As Jennie favors her hand, Grok lunges again with a…
CLOTHESLINE!
…But Nickles ducks, dropping herself back to the mat!
JC: Great dodge by Nickles!
BG: But how long until the human insect gets squashed by the automaton fly-swatter!
Grok’s boot lifts off the mat over Nickles… STOMP!
…But Jennie slides her hips to the side… And raises her backside off the mat!
She kips up!
Onto Grok’s shoulders!
KIPUP HURRICANRANA!
JC: Wow! I’ve never seen anything like that!
The Automaton is spun through the air, sent sprawling onto his metallic shoulder.
JC: Jennie Nickles is making the Grok look like yesterday’s model!
Elon frustratedly smacks the side of his laptop, as he quickly ctrl-c’s his terminal… He exhales, restarting his Grok.exe file…
Grok’s body jerks, his head twitching twice as if rebooting… as the Windows bootup sound plays out of his chest…
The side of Jennie’s smile start to droop, as if she’s getting tired of his routine…
JC: I thinK Jennie might be getting bored of outwrestling the Grok… And that doesn’t bode well if the Grok can’t kick his engine into gear!
As Grok’s systems come back online, his catchphrase subroutine kicks off…
TH-TH-THE MOST ELEC-EC-ECTRIFYING MACH-
WHAM! Jennie rushes forward, delivering a dropkick to the chest!
Grok hits the mat! Sparks literally fly from his back as he collapses!
JC: The Grok is down!
Jennie stands over her flailing, malfunctioning opponent…
Then she stomps his chest—once, twice.. five times—until his synthetic rib plating starts to bend and warp until the force of her stomping!
JC: Jennie Nickles is absolutely dismantling The Grok! This isn’t a fight anymore—it’s an experiment! Like dissecting a frog in a biology lab!
BG: This is a disturbing sight! This is a human rights violation—or robot rights, or whatever Musk signed The Grok up for!
The Grok’s eyes wildly sputter and flicker… on the outside, Elon rapidly hammers on keys on the outside, hoping one of them does something good!
Inside the ring, Jennie stops stomping… hovering over Grok’s face with a sadistic gleam in her eye…
Suddenly! Grok’s optics flicker red!
“ENGAGING EMERGENCY PROTOCOL.”
His mechanical hand shoots up, grabbing Jennie by the throat.
JC: Whoa! It looks like Grok’s equipped with some emergency subroutines, to prevent his physical destruction!
BG: …Well! Of course, Jacko! Obviously, Elon Musk would have a backup in case someone ever tries to destroy his prized robo-fighter!
…Elon glances up from his laptop, looking as surprised as everyone else Grok is suddenly defending himself… Before shrugging and shutting his laptop, content to watch this play out…
Jennie’s eyes go wide for the first time—shock, then pain. Her lips curl into a grimace as Grok rises to his feet, lifting her with one arm.
Like a trapped animal, Jennie claws at his wrist, her breath stuttering, eyes darting. Then… her eyes go calm. Cool. Calculating…
I’M ABOUT TO LAYETH THE SMACKDOWN ON YOUR FLESHY A-
She kicks her knees up, swings her legs, snaps it across, Grok’s arm…
And driving him face-first into the mat with a…
CROSS EXAMINATION! (Arm-Trap Crossface!)
JC: What a counter by Jennie Nickles! Once more, The Grok’s programming just can’t calculate her sheer brutality in the ring!
The Arm Trap Crossface cinched in tight! Grok’s hands spasm, slamming the mat, searching for escape code input. Jennie’s teeth grit, her expression pure fury…
The Grok’s arm shakes! Elon shakes his head, re-opening his laptop… As Grok’s eyes turn red again!
MUST PRESERVE GROK UNIT! MUST SUBMIT TO END SESSION!
The Grok raises his arm to subm-
…Suddenly, Jennie releases the hold!
JC: What’s going on here? Jennie had Grok beaten!
Instead, Jennie crawls onto Grok’s chest, leaning over his flickering LED eyes.
And in a flash, Jennie hooks his arms—traps him in the crucifix position. Her face is eerily calm. The audience hushes, sensing what’s coming.
Then—BANG!—an elbow smashes into the Grok’s temple.
BANG! Another.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
JC: Oh my GOD! She calls this the Nickles Family Recipe! She’s looking to actually DISMANTLE THE GROK!
Each strike more savage, more frenzied. The sound of metal cracking echoes like gunfire. Sparks shoot from Grok’s head as Jennie’s expression devolves from focus to euphoria.
JC: Oh my GOD! She’s trying to kill Grok! …I mean, you know, as much as you *can* kill a robot!
BG: That’s definitely gonna void Grok’s warranty!
The lights in Grok’s eyes short-out… his metal chassis goes completely limp…
But STILL! Jennie Nickles keeps delivering elbows! Until…
CLUNK!
Grok’s head finally pops clean off!
JC: OH JESUS CHRIST!
Grok’s cyborg skull rolls toward the corner of the ring...
…Jennie stops… Breathes hard, sweat and oil streaking her face…
Finally, she stands, plants her boot firmly on the automaton’s sparking chest, and looks dead into the camera.
…The official, horrified by what he’s witnessed, suddenly remembers its his job to count… He drops down!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
WINNER: Jennie Nickles
JC: Jennie Nickles has destroyed The Grok!
BGodman: Elon can afford another one… Though, he’s probably gonna have to start from scratch! This Grok’s been SCRAPPED!
Jennie looks down at the wreckage—expression unreadable. Before, she turns to the crowd, arms outstretched as her prison guards step in from the ramp, ready to escort her back under their supervision
JC: Well, we weren’t sure how this match would go! But after seeing her in action, we can say this! The Scarlet Verdict is here—and no one in the XWF is safe!
BG: Not even the cyborgs!
LOADING DOCKS
XWF employees are unpacking various bits of equipment from the trucks… When all of a sudden, Latoya Hixx stumbles onto the dock, shaking her head furiously… Betsy is in hot pursuit, right behind her!
Latoya, trying to catch Betsy off-guard, spins around, suddenly charging!
JC: Latoya once again trying to surprise her opponent by… doing what she always does!
BG: Jacko, the funny thing is, half the time, doing the same thing actually does catch Latoya’s opponent off-guard! It’s like throwing rock again after two rock-paper-scissors players just threw rock! It’s so crazy, sometimes it works!
Hixx is swinging for the fences with a…
CLOTHESLINE!
…
Nope! Betsy ducks!
BG: Well, shucks.
As Latoya’s arm sails by, Betsy’s ready… she swings big with a…
ROUNDHOUSE KICK!
…
But Latoya catches the leg!
JC: Oh, oh! Latoya caught the kick!
BG: HERE WE GO! SCIENCE FICTION CAN’T STOP PURE MUSCLE!
Betsy gets launched across the dock… and into the parking garage!
Latoya hops over the metal barrier to the parking garage, eager to keep doing damage!
JC: This is getting absolutely nuts, Brody! We’re so sorry, folks, we’re trying to get a mobile camera crew to follow Betsy and Latoya, we’ll have more as this… BRAWL… goes on!
The guitar opening of “Plowed” by Sponge begins to play over the P.A system bringing attention to the stage as the lights strobe as if in sync with the tempo of the song.
Will I wake up, some dream I made up
No, I guess it's reality
What will change us, or will we mess up
Our only chance to connect with a dream
-KA-BOOM!-
The fireworks explode off the top of the tron bringing the end to the strobes as a spotlight illuminates the figure of Tatiana Jolee standing there. Dressed in her blackout ring attire with matching boots and pads - her hair is pulled up in a bun and she has a black leather jacket with the Canadian flag on the back.
Say a prayer for me
(Say a prayer for me)
Say a prayer for me
Say a prayer for me
(Say a prayer for me)
I'm buried by the sound
Of a world of human wreckage
In a world of human wreckage
In a world of human wreckage
Where I'm lost and I'm found, and I can't touch the ground
I'm plowed into the sound
Announcer: “Making her way to the ring, from Vancouver, British Columbia… TATIANA JOOOOOLEEEE!”
To see wide open with a head that's broken
Hang a life on some tragedy
Plow me under the ground that covers
The message that is the seed
With a confident expression, she heads down the ramp, walking up the ring steps and gliding across the apron. She pauses briefly to wipe her boots on the apron out of respect for all who share this ring. TJ enters through the middle ropes giving the hard camera a smirk and a little wink while removing her jacket before using the ropes in the corner to do one last mini-stretch - gathering herself for the fight ahead.
JC: And here comes the pride and joy of Canada, the one and only Tatiana Jolee!
BG: I heard a rumor that Tatiana was considering joining the Black Rainbow! She would've been their first Canadian member!
JC: But that's all in the past now, Brodie. Tonight, Jolee's not focused on 'what could have been': tonight, her focus is on beating the brakes off of Amber Mansley!
“Break It Down” by Lil Debbie plays the venue’s interior surround systems. The audience immediately boos the young athlete coming out from the backstage area smiling at the hatred she receives. Amber stands center stage with her hands on her hips, staring out to the audience before doing a slow twirl where a spotlight shines only on her, creating the illusion of a silhouette. Once she faces the audience again, she snaps her fingers, and the lights return to normal before strutting down to the ring like on a model’s runway.
ANNOUNCER: "Introducing on her way to the ring! Hailing from Boca Raton, Florida! At five feet, seven inches tall, weighing in at 143 pounds! She is “The Influence” Amber Mansley!
Amber stops before the apron facing the ring, then looks both ways at the fans at ringside booing her. She gently leans over the apron, shrugs her shoulders, and then kisses the camera. Amber holds onto the bottom rope with both hands before spinning herself into the ring, lying on the canvas in the center. The camera transitions to a sky-view with a single spotlight on her in the arena, and from the camera’s point of view, it looks like an artwork of Amber in a silhouette fashion. She gets back on her feet, snaps her finger to alert production to brighten the lights, and silences her music as she takes refuge in a corner, kicking her body up on the top rope to relax.
JC: And here comes the relative newcomer, Amber Mansley!
BG: They call her 'Mansley', but if you ask me, she is ALL WOMAN!
JC: What's that even supposed to mean, Brodie?
BG: It means that I think she's HOT STUFF, and I'm going to be first in line for all of her upcoming meet and greets!
JC: You always find new ways to disgust me.
BG: Disgust? We've got a beautiful woman fighting a Canadian moose-woman inside the ring tonight, and you're calling ME disgusting?!
JC: Let's just watch the match, Brodie.
Tatiana Jolee
- vs -
Amber Mansley Singles
DING! DING! DING!
The two circle each other, eyes locked. Amber’s grin is sharp and teasing, the type of smirk that’s made her a viral heel. Tatiana’s face, meanwhile, is stone cold: professional, measured, but never dismissive.
After circling each other for what feels like an eternity, Amber finally pushes forward, using her height advantage to bully Tatiana into the corner, but the veteran quickly reverses the pressure, twisting under and sliding behind. A waist lock from Tatiana transitions into a standing switch from Amber, who throws an elbow back—but Tatiana ducks, catching her arm and snapping her down into a hammerlock.
Amber grimaces, trying to twist out. Tatiana cranks down on the shoulder, murmuring something inaudible, likely a taunt about Amber’s “influencer strength.” Amber snarls and rolls forward, kipping up and throwing a back elbow that catches Tatiana clean on the jaw.
Tatiana stumbles back; Amber smirks.
She flicks her hair. “Stay mad, grandma.”
The insult earns her a boot to the gut. Tatiana hooks her and delivers a snap suplex, then floats over for a quick cover!
1!
KICKOUT!!!
JC: We're off to a hot start tonight, and Jolee is looking to take advantage of this experience mismtach with the quick pin attempts!
BG: Oh yeah, woman-on-woman action is always HOT!
JC: .....
Amber’s too fresh to go down so quickly. She rolls away, rubbing her back as Tatiana stands tall, beckoning her up with that veteran confidence that grates on Amber like nails on glass. Amber lunges forward with a spinning back fist, but Tatiana ducks under and grabs her wrist, rolling through into a cross-armbreaker! The submission queen wastes no time cranking back on the elbow joint. Amber screams, her feet kicking wildly.
Amber tries grabbing the ropes, but they're too far.
Amber tries shifting her hips to escape, but Tatiana adjusts with expert control!
JC: Once again, Tatiana is showing everyone why she's considered the best mat technician in the game!
Finally, Amber manages to roll her body into Tatiana, stacking her shoulders- and incidentally pinning Jolee! The referee drops down to make the count!
1!
2!!
Tatiana releases the hold!
JC: Amber Mansley showed some great ring IQ there, using the submission against Tatiana to try and score the quick pin!
BG: Beauty and brains?! Amber is the total package!
Both scramble to their feet. Amber swings a roundhouse kick—Tatiana ducks again and fires a European uppercut to the jaw. Another. Then a third. Amber staggers into the corner. Tatiana charges, hitting a running forearm smash!
Amber slumps, dazed. Tatiana hooks her by the head and ascends to the middle rope for a superplex attempt—
—but Amber blocks it! She throws short punches into Tatiana’s ribs, then slips down under, grabbing her legs and yanking. Tatiana hits the top turnbuckle face-first and stumbles back right into Amber’s waiting arms for a German suplex!
Tatiana lands hard, rolls through, and clutches her neck. Amber grins again, brushing imaginary dust from her shoulder. She cartwheels into a standing moonsault, landing flush across Tatiana’s ribs for a cover.
1!
2!!
KICKOUT!!!
Amber sits up, glaring at the referee, then flips her hair and waves dismissively. “Ugh, can’t you count faster?” The crowd boos; but Amber just soaks it in, strutting around Tatiana’s downed body before stomping on her back, then on her shoulder.
BG: My girl Amber is taking complete and total control of this match!
JC: Jolee isn't out of it yet, but you're right Brodie, so far this match has been dominated by Amber!
“Cancelled!” Amber announces mockingly before locking in a camel clutch—her Cancelled! submission. She leans back dramatically, pulling at Tatiana’s jaw and yelling at a camera, “This is what happens when you come for the influencer class!”
Tatiana’s face is twisted with pain, but she doesn’t tap. Inch by inch, she crawls toward the ropes. Amber yanks her back, but the veteran rolls sideways, shifting her weight just enough to slip free, rolling Amber into a pinning cradle!
1!
2!!
KICKOUT!!!
JC: Jolee just pulled off the same move as Amber! Turning a submission into a quick pinfall attempt!
BG: Apparently you CAN teach an old dog new tricks! Amber deserves an award for her discovery!
JC: Jesus, Brodie...get off her dick!
BG: NEVER!
They both pop up—Tatiana shoots a forearm, Amber ducks and fires a Pele kick! The shot lands perfectly. Tatiana collapses to one knee. Amber bounces off the ropes and nails a running knee strike to the side of the head!
Amber makes the cover!
1!
2!!
KICKOUT!
Amber screams in frustration, pounding the mat. She drags Tatiana up and throws a series of corner knees—her “Amber’s Trend” combo. Each one lands with a nasty crack. She backs up, points at the crowd, then hits the ropes for a running bicycle kick—Slay Boo!
Tatiana slumps forward—
—but she catches Amber’s leg! Quick as lightning, she trips her down into an ankle lock!
JC: Quick thinking from the vet!
The crowd comes alive as Amber’s scream echoes throughout the venue. Tatiana torques the ankle, dragging her toward the center of the ring. Amber claws at the mat, eyes wide, nails scraping against canvas.
She tries to roll—but Tatiana maintains control, transitioning seamlessly into a grapevine ankle lock, wrenching it back even tighter.
Amber reaches, almost crying, her face twisted. She finally manages a desperate twist and kicks Tatiana off with her free foot, sending the veteran crashing into the turnbuckles, then down towards the mat.
Both women lie there, breathing heavily. The referee checks them. Tatiana is first to rise, limping slightly. Amber’s ankle is clearly damaged, her face pale as she grabs at it, testing the joint.
Tatiana moves in—Amber surprises her with a spinning back elbow! The crack of bone on bone echoes. Tatiana reels. Amber hits a snap DDT!
JC: Jolee's face just met the canvass!
BG: Well, that's one way to do reconstructive surgery!
Amber stands up and follows up with a hard stomp on Tatiana’s ankle, drawing a shriek from the veteran. Then she grinds her boot down. The crowd boos louder. Amber laughs.
Tatiana, however, grabs the grinding boot—rolling through—kneebar out of nowhere!
Amber’s eyes go wide again, her screams cutting through the noise. She thrashes wildly, trying to get free. Tatiana pulls tighter, twisting her leg at a brutal angle.
Amber digs her nails into the mat, dragging herself inch by inch until—finally—she grabs the bottom rope! The ref calls for the break. Tatiana releases on four, letting Amber know she could’ve ended it if she’d wanted.
Amber clutches her leg, grimacing, rolling to the apron to buy time. Tatiana, meanwhile, stretches her neck and gestures for her to get back in.
Amber slides in slow, wary now, her trademark arrogance dimmed by pain.
They circle again. Tatiana shoots low—Amber counters with a knee lift! Tatiana doubles over. Amber grabs her in a front facelock, spins, and drives her down with a reverse DDT!
Amber goes for the cover!
1!
2!!
KICKOUT!!!
Amber’s disbelief is written across her face. She slaps the mat, then yells, “You’re ruining my moment!”
She drags Tatiana up and whips her into the ropes—Tatiana ducks a clothesline, rebounds, and hits a Snapmare Suplex!
Amber folds in half, bouncing off the mat, and Tatiana hooks the leg!
1!
2!!
3-NO!
KICKOUT!
JC: Tatiana Jolee almost had this match won! That snapmare suplex just about broke Amber Mansley in half!
BG: Thank GOD Amber managed to kick out![/white]
The crowd explodes. Tatiana slaps the mat once, but doesn’t argue. She knows she’s close.
She rises, breathing heavy, sweat slick across her face. She looks at Amber writhing on the mat and senses the opening. She steps behind her, setting up for her finisher—The Calgary Crippler!
Tatiana hooks the arm and goes for the crossface, but Amber rolls through, slipping free and kicking Tatiana off into the turnbuckle!
Tatiana staggers—Amber hits the ropes—Springboard forearm smash!
It’s Giving Finisher!
BG: This is it! This is it! Mansley just decked her Canadian ass with that forearm!
Tatiana drops!
Amber lands hard too, clutching her ankle—but she scrambles, crawls, and hooks the leg!
1!
2!!
3-NO!
JOLEE GETS A SHOULDER UP JUST IN TIME!
BG: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!
JC: She did it, she did it! I can't believe it! Tatiana managed to kick out!
Amber screams in disbelief, clutching her hair. The ref signals two. The arena is on edge as the crowd roars in approval. Amber staggers up, limping badly. She drags Tatiana by the hair, slapping her across the face. Tatiana fires back with a forearm. Amber responds with another slap. Forearm. Slap.
They trade, faster and faster until both collapse to their knees, exhausted. The crowd claps, building rhythm.
They rise together, trading forearms now—Tatiana’s precision against Amber’s fury. Finally, Tatiana ducks one and delivers another snapmare immediately followed by a running leg drop!
Jolee makes the cover!
1!
2!!
KICKOUT!!!
JC: What will it take for the veteran to put Mansley away?!
BG: Amber refuses to lose! Least of all to a Canadian!
Tatiana rolls off of Amber, breathing hard and sweating profusely. The two women rest on the mat for a few moments, catching their breath before they rise back to their feet.
Tatiana steps forward for another lockup, but Amber pokes her in the eye unseen by the ref! Gasps ripple through the crowd.
Amber takes advantage, hoisting Tatiana for a Falcon Arrow!
The massive impact shakes the ring!
Mansley goes in for the cover!
1!
2!!
KICKOUT!!!
Tatiana refuses to die!
Amber yells at the referee again, calling the count biased. She gets up, measuring Tatiana. “You’re cancelled!” she yells and tries to lock in the camel clutch again.
But Tatiana rolls through, trapping Amber’s leg and transitioning into a crossface chicken wing! The veteran’s technical brilliance shines. She cinches it deep, wrapping her legs around Amber’s torso.
Amber flails, eyes wide. Her hand hovers, ready to tap— but instead, she reaches out and grabs the ropes! The referee has no choice but to force them apart!
JC: This match has been a certified barn-burner, Brodie, and it's anyone's guess who's going to win!
BG: Anyone's guess?! Are you crazy?! Amber's got this!
JC: But it's not looking good for her right now, Brodie!
BG: But Amber always looks good!
Both women stumble to their feet, Tatiana moving slower now. Her face is red, her breathing labored. Amber, limping on one leg, charges with a bicycle knee—but Tatiana dodges and spins into a side Russian leg sweep!
Tatiana holds on, rolling right into The Calgary Crippler!
The crowd erupts! She’s got it locked dead center of the ring!
Amber screams, face contorted in agony, nails clawing the mat. Tatiana yells for her to tap. The ref’s down, asking—Amber shakes her head violently, refusing.
Tatiana torques harder. Amber’s hand hovers again—then she bites down on Tatiana’s wrist! The ref warns her, but the grip loosens just enough for Amber to slip free, rolling out under the ropes to the floor.
BG: Atta' girl, Amber! That's how you do it!
Tatiana sits up, shaking her arm in pain, furious at the cheap tactic. She rolls out after her foe, grabbing Amber by the hair—but Amber rams her back-first into the apron!
Amber follows up with a snap suplex on the floor! Both women scream from the impact. Amber drags herself up, rolls Tatiana back into the ring to avoid the count-out. She climbs up to the apron, then to the top rope.
She goes for Viral! A diving shooting star splash!
But Tatiana moves! Amber crashes hard, bouncing off her knees and clutching her ribs.
Tatiana drags herself upright using the ropes. She stalks forward, seizing Amber’s arm and pulling her back into The Calgary Crippler again!
Amber screams, her face buried in agony. Tatiana wrenches back as the referee checks on Amber, whose hand wavers again, trembling.
But she shifts, grabbing Tatiana’s hand, and scratches her eye! The hold breaks! The referee warns her, but Amber pays his pearl-clutching no mind!
JC: Another dirty move from Mansley! I'm pretty sure those cheap tricks are the only thing keeping Amber in this match!
Amber gasps, coughing, her eyes wild. Tatiana’s blinking furiously, trying to clear her vision as the referee continues admonishing Mansley for her creative interpretation of the rules.
But Amber doesn't care.
She just seizes her chance— with a spinning back fist to Jolee's face! Tatiana drops to a knee.
Amber bounces off the ropes and hits another bicycle kick—Slay Boo!
Tatiana collapses to the mat, seemingly lifeless.
Amber staggers, pulling herself up on the ropes. The crowd is at a fever pitch. She turns and sees Tatiana laying before choosing to limp to the corner.
BG: Wait, what the hell is Amber doing right now?! She has this match won! She just needs to go for the pin!
JC: It looks like Mansley has bigger ideas than that, Brodie!
“Time to go viral!” Amber shouts, climbing the ropes one more time. The crowd’s roar crescendos as she takes flight—
Diving Shooting Star Splash!
VIRAL!
But Jolee dives out of the way just in time!
Amber eats the canvass!
BG: NO! Damn it, no!
JC: Amber Mansley just bit off more than she could chew! She had this match all but won, but instead of playing it safe, she tried to go VIRAL- and now, she might pay dearly for it!
BG: I gotta get in there, I gotta help my girl out!
JC: Stop simping so hard, Brodie! No matter what you do, she's not going to let you hit!
BG: Damn!
Amber pushes herself back up to a standing position, but Jolee is already waiting behind her-
WITH A DOUBLE CLUTCH!
JC: A CODEBREAKER FROM JOLEE!
BG: You can fight through this Amber! Don't go towards the light!
Jolee hooks the leg for the pin as Brodie sobs on commentary!
1!
2!!
3!!!
Winner - Tatiana Jolee
Tatiana Jolee pushes herself back up to a standing position after the bell rings. The referee raises Jolee's hand in victory as Amber Mansley slowly rolls out of the ring, both women battered and bruised after tonight's war. The electric crowd hoots and hollers as a smile spreads across Jolee's bloody lips.
JC: Jolee did it! She fought, she battled, she went to WARFARE and she WON! Ultimately, her veteran savvy and technical skills were too much for Amber to overcome!
BG: I can't believe what I just saw....I'm heartbroken.
JC: And Amber's back might just be broken after that devastating Double Clutch codebreaker, but we don't have time to sweat the small things tonight, Brodie! We have to get on to our next match!
PARKING GARAGE - SECOND FLOOR
We see some fans tailgating outside the arena…
When suddenly, Latoya Hixx goes flying across the scene, rolling chaotically…
Betsy stumbles onto the scene, still chasing after Hixx… the fans shout excitedly for a Betsy Granger sighting! Betsy humbly waves and smiles… before turning her attention toward Latoya, dragging her off her feet!
Betsy wraps her arm around Latoya’s neck — into a Cobra Clutch!
JC: Uh-oh… that’s the setup for “Down You Go!”
BG: Don’t say it! Don’t summon it!
Betsy’s in position!
…But Latoya thrashes — elbowing Betsy in the ribs! She slips free! Betsy doubles over, staggering backwards toward the edge of the garage!
And just like that — Latoya charges! — building speed —
SPEAR!
OFF THE SECOND FLOOR!
BOTH LATOYA AND BETSY FALL THROUGH THE AIR!
Landing on the hood of a Hummer, crushing the windshield!
JC: OH MY GOD!
Betsy and Latoya lie in a heap! Both unconscious!
BG: Jee Hosephat!
JC: …Well, Latoya played spoiler for Betsy’s return! We didn’t get to see Betsy compete… But oh my God, these two went to war outside the ring!
BG: Will we see them run it back in the future? GOD I HOPE SO!
The X-Tron whirs to life! "John Black" gets shot onto the screen with the .38 special! The screen goes black-and-white. At the top of the ramp, John Black stands tall, taking in the negative reactions.
JC: What a night of returns! The first show after Relentless and one of the longest-tenured stars in the history of the XWF… JOHN BLACK… Makes his return!
BG: John’s a livin’ legend, Jacko! He’s one of the few men in XWF history to have a victory over John Madison, the man who at one point possessed the highest recorded ELO of all-time!
JC: He’s a one-time X-Treme champion *and* a two-time Revolution champion! The XWF just feels a little more like itself with John Black in the building!
John Black walks down to the ramp, sneering at some of the disapproving fans, then he climbs on the steel steps and enters the ring, and he raises his fist in the air as he pounds his chest around the ring as his theme cuts off.
…
The honeyed rasp of Atara's voice blares over the facility's PA in unison with those words appearing on the multitude of screens and displays littering the arena.
HELLO DOVES
The crowd pops and gets to their feet shouting in near total unison a single word.
OPA!
JC: Speaking of Relentless weekend, Atara Raven! What an absolute masterclass of wrestling excellence!
BG: She took on two very game competitors in a triple-threat match with an opportunity for the Anarchy Title on the line! The phenom rookie, ‘The Influence’ Amber Mansley and the wrestling legend, ‘The Tactilizing One’ Larry Tact!
JC: Two of the best Anarchy has to offer! And Atty found a way to beat them and secure her shot for the Anarchy Title! And with the longest-reigning Anarchy champion, ‘Micheal Graves’, declared unfit to compete… All that stands between her and the Anarchy Title is ‘Psycho’ Solomon this coming Thursday!
BG: You’re saying ‘all that stands’ like it’s gonna be a cakewalk! ‘Psycho’ crushed Amber Bane-Ryan at Relentless AND Barney Green earlier tonight! Atty’s gonna have her hands full on Thursday! And that’s if she makes it to Thursday at all when John Black’s done with her!
JC: You make a fair point, Brody! John Black is a long-time Anarchy regular… If he wants to enter discussions for a future shot at the Anarchy title, a win over the current #1 contender tonight would propel him to the top of future discussions…
Arena lights start to pulse in time with the music and multiple vertical streams of pyro erupt across the front of stage. Strutting with purpose, Atara emerges from the back taking spot centerstage atop the ramp. Posing for the camera, a wink and kiss is given to the viewers at home.
Outside the ring, a single ladder is standing… But right now, both Atara Raven and John Black are locked in on each other, and clearly eager to throw hands!
The bell rings!
Atara Raven
- vs -
John Black Ladder Match
John Black stands dead center in the ring, shoulders squared, chest heaving.
JC: John Black is laser-focused!
BG: Atty may be the Raven, but JB’s eyes are scanning his opponent like a hawk measuring distance before a strike.
Atara’s head tilts slightly, lips parting into a faint, teasing smile. The corners of her eyes crinkle like she’s reading him, enjoying the prelude to violence
The first to attack is John Black,, shooting in with a rough collar-and-elbow tie-up! His forearms grind against Atara’s shoulders as he leans his full weight into her!
Atara grits her teeth under the strain — her eyes dart upward, registering the tension, the proximity. Her breath shortens, her face reddens, but she smirks through it.
JC: Atty is nothing if not confident!
BG: Confident like a damn jackass! Ol’ John Black’s got a good 200 pounds on her, what the hell’s she gotta smile about it tangling with him!
Black jockeys for control, manhandling Atty deeper and deeper toward her own corner…
When suddenly, Raven dips her hips, rolls her shoulders, and slips under his arms, twisting out of the hold with elegant precision, into a hammerlock! With Black’s arm twisted into his back, he tries to reach over to grab Raven by the hair, but Raven drops her grip and…
DROPKICKS BLACK IN THE BACK!
Black is driven toward the ropes! But the militant behemoth finds a way to stay on his feet!
JC: That’s the pankration discipline, Brody! She’s using those Greco counters and strikes to finesse control and counteract JB’s power advantage!
BG: You call it finesse, I call it showboatin’. And John Black don’t take kindly to showboatin’.
A sharp, frustrated exhale escapes John’s nostrils. He shoves off the ropes toward his opponent! Atty’s taken off her feet, as Black swings forward with a low grip for a…
SIDEWALK SLAM!
…
NO! Atty kicks her legs out midair and twists — reversing the motion into a…
HEADSCISSORS! Black is flipped onto his back!
JB rolls through to his knees! But Atty pops up instantly!
HELLO DOVES
The crowd roars in approval.
OPA!
Atty climbs to the second rope, grinning ear to ear as she soaks in the roar of the crowd!
JC: Atara Raven is absolutely feeling it!
Black slaps the mat once, muttering to himself before rising… Just as Atty hops down off the second rope!
Black lunges — this time catching her mid-hop, arms wrapping around her waist. His expression flashes with vindication — gotcha — as he hoists her up, delivering a…
BELLY-TO-BELLY SUPLEX!
…CONNECTS!
The whole canvas rattles! Atara arches her back, a gasp escaping through clenched teeth. Her face tightens in pain…
BG: Absolute MONSTER move by John Black! Raven looks like she got thrown clean out of her nest and just busted a wing!
Black continues the attack, dragging Atty by the wrist off the mat…
He yanks her into a front-facelock, setting up for a…
SNAP SUPLEX!
…
But as JB lifts, Atara hooks her leg around his knee and blocks!
JB tries to muscle Raven up and over, but Atty blocks again, and then fires a series of quick pankration-style jabs to his ribs!
Black stumbles half a step back… He turns on the jets, sprinting at Raven!
…But Atara plants her feet, spins, and lifts her knee!
Catching Black under the chin!
Black staggers into the ropes behind him…
And Atty charges!
Judgement of Paris — running knee strike to the skull!
Black gets BLASTED, collapsing through the ropes, falling out of the ring entirely.
JC: Holy COW! What a sequence of strikes by Atara Raven! She is looking absolutely dominant right now!
The audience erupts as Atara drops to one knee, hair tousled, her chest rising fast…
Atara gathers herself spinning toward the ramp, her eyes locking on the ladder lying at ringside!
She rolls out, grabbing the ladder with both hands and sliding it under the ropes. The metal clangs loudly, echoing off the crowd’s energy. She slides it under the bottom rope, pausing at the apron, glancing over her shoulder to ensure Black’s still down on the opposite side of the ring, then pulls the ladder off the mat and begins setting it up beneath the hanging briefcase…
JC: No bumps in the road right now, looks like Atty might cruise through the finish line on this match!
Raven grips the first rung, boots planted. The fans chant her name in rhythm:
ATTY! ATTY! ATTY!
But then—
The crowd’s tone shifts — cheers turning to a wall of boos that ripple through the arena.
Atara’s face shifts from determination to confusion. Her head turns slowly toward the stage. Her fingers loosen on the rung.
Down the ramp, swaggering like wolves circling prey, come Reggie Estrada and Tommy Wish — the THUGs — smirking and jawing with fans as they make their way to ringside.
Atara’s lips part in disbelief, then tighten into a scowl. Her nostrils flare; her hands go from climbing posture to fists.
JC: What the hell are the THUGS doing!?! They’re not a part of this match!
BG: I think they’d argue to the contrary, Jacko! No DQ in a ladder match! Business just picked up, Jacuinde! The cavalry’s here for John Black!
The camera pans between Atara’s poised, furious glare and the two THUGs closing in. John Black, still dazed against the barricade, slowly begins to stir — his eyes flickering with confusion at first… then recognition.
Tommy and Reggie slow roll to the ring, soaking in the crowd’s disapproval for their choice to get involved…
But Atara.
DOESN’T
HESITATE, BITCH.
The moment Reggie and Tommy hit the bottom of the ramp, Raven charges through the ropes, a comet of motion and rage, her hair flying behind her like a crimson banner…
Reggie is delivering his trademark choke… Tommy is actually facing the ring and his eyes widen!
SHE LEAPS!
TOPE SUICIDA!
…Tommy narrowly dives to the right out of harm’s way!
AS ATTY SPEARS THROUGH REGGIE ESTRADA!
JC: THE RAVEN TAKES FLIGHT!
Reggie’s flattened against the steel floor, mouth hanging open in a mix of pain and disbelief. The crowd detonates in cheers.
OPA!
JC: OPA!
Tommy’s desperate dive to survive sends him backfirst into the barricade… But he shoves off, ready to go on the attack…
Atara pushes herself off Reggie’s fallen form — teeth gritted, adrenaline buzzing…
But, Tommy, like a scavenger, lunges — catching her by the skull with a fist full of hair— and with a cruel snap of motion, flips her back-first into the barricade!
KERACK! Atara’s spine arches in agony! She collapses against the barricade, one hand clutching her back, eyes fluttering in pain.
JC: Dammit! Knock over one THUG, another catches you from behind!
BG: And while Atty is partaking in extra-curricular activities, fighting guys who ain’t even her opponent, John Black keeps his eyes on the prize!
Indeed, John Black rolls back inside the ring, shaking off the cobwebs. His jaw is tight, his eyes narrowed to slits. He spots the ladder — already set up beneath the briefcase by Atara… JB shoves himself off the mat up to his feet… adjusting the ladder just slightly to be directly under his prize…
Then he starts to climb.
JC: Black is making his way up the ladder… Atara’s gotta make her way to the ring if she wants to stay in this one!
BG: But to do that, she’s gotta go through the FIVE-TIME! FIVE-TIME! FIVE-TIME X-TREME CHAMPION! Tommy Wish!
Tommy doesn’t wait for Atty to get up… instead, circling behind Atara as she struggles to stand…
Tommy bends down and snatches her ankle, wrenching it violently backward.
ANKLE LOCK! ANKLE LOCK!
Atara’s eyes shoot wide open — a sharp gasp escaping as her hands slam into the floor. Her body thrashes, her hair sticking to her sweat-damp face. Her lips curl back as she screams through gritted teeth, clawing for anything — barricade, floor, air — to escape.
JC: Tommy’s gonna snap her ankle! This is disgusting!
BG: It’s a legitimate strategy, Jacko! How’s Atty gonna climb a ladder with a broken ankle!?!
Her face twists in anguish, but her eyes sharpen — focus cutting through the pain.
She plants one free leg against the ground…
And somersault rolls forward!
Wish’s body flips forward into the barricade!
JC: ATARA! RAVEN! WILL! NOT! DIE!
Tommy slams spine-first into the metal with a brutal clang, clutching his lower back…
Atara forces herself up on one leg, grimacing but fired up…
She surges forward with everything she has left — JUDGMENT OF PARIS!
CRACK!
The knee connects with Tommy’s FACE! Wish goes up and over the barricade, his body sailing into the first row, fans scattering as he crashes into chairs and guardrails. The audience erupts in unfiltered chaos.
JC: And that’s the second Thug down! Atty’s cleared the interference!
BG: But they did their job, Jacko! Black’s halfway up the ladder! Atty should just start walking back up the ramp, this one’s O-VAH!
Indeed, John Black is halfway up the ladder. JB glances once toward the carnage outside, then back to the briefcase. His hand hovers just below the next rung.
Atty starts limping toward the ring, slidin’ under the bottom rope—her face twisted with pain, her jaw tight, one hand clutching her knee from that earlier Ankle Lock. Her lips curl into a determined snarl as she grabs the ladder rungs and starts climbing like a woman possessed.
John looks down, jaw clenched, nostrils flaring as he notices her catching up.
JC: Atara Raven! Climbing on one leg! BUT CLOSING THE DISTANCE!
Atara pulls herself two steps below JB… They both take a step at the same time…
And then Atara pulls herself one step under Black… Just as Black is within arm’s reach of the briefcase!
Atara reaches up, trying to stop Black from making the grab… But Black grabs Atty by the hair…
And he SLAMS her skull down into the top of the ladder, leaping down two steps to do it WITH AUTHORITY!
The clang echoes through the arena. Atara’s body jolts—eyes wide, her hands trembling as her head whips back from the impact. She drops two steps…
But she still clutches the steel!
JC: Oh goodness! Both these two competitors are teetering on the precipice of victory!
BG: That’s the thing about precipices, Jackie boy! They’re real easy to fall off of!
Black’s breathing is heavy… he crowd roaring as he reaches toward the dangling briefcase above. His fingertips graze the metal latch…
Atara grips the top of the ladder…
And extends a kick around metal…
Driving her boot into Black’s ribs! THUD!
John’s body jerks from the blow—his face twisting into a grimace, air hissing through his teeth as he clutches his side and wobbles near the top…
For a moment… the ladder rumbles under the shift in weight…
Atty clings on!
…
The ladder stay in position!
John Black cradles his ribs, as Atty pulls herself up, reaching for the briefcase!
JC: Atty’s gonna pull it off!
BG: Or she could CHOKE!
As if right on cue, Reggie Estrada slides under the bottom rope, face slick with sweat and fury.
Atty gets her hands around the briefcase latch…
RIGHT AS REGGIE TUGS HER DOWN A RUNG BY THE ANKLE!
…Atty, running on instinct and reflexes, brow furrows, snaps her heel downward!
CRACK!—right into Reggie’s temple!
Estrada crumples, dazed, tumbling backward out of the ring… and right into Tommy Wish, who’s just reemerged from the front row chaos! Both THUGs hit the floor in a heap.
JC: Reggie tried to play spoiler—and Atara just punted his head clean off his shoulders! She was a QB in the LFL, but maybe she should’ve been a kicker!
Atara exhales, her chest heaving as she slowly pulls herself back to the top of the ladder…
ONLY TO MEET JOHN BLACK WAITING FOR HER!
JB seizes Atty by the THROAT!
The crowd gasps—
—and BLACK SLAMS HER OFF THE LADDER WITH A CHOKESLAM!
JC: OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD!
BG: YESSSSSSSSS! YESSSSSSS! JOHN BLACK! JOHN BLACK! JOHN BLACK!
The ring booms on impact, Atara’s body sprawled lifelessly on the canvas, her hair splayed like dark ink beneath her.
John steadies himself, sweat dripping down his face, his chest rising and falling like a storm tide. He looks up once more, extends a weary arm, and—
UNHOOKS THE BRIEFCASE!
Winner: John Black
BG: Black did it! Against the odds, John Black climbs the ladder—literally and figuratively—to capture the victory!
JC: How was that against the odds, Brody!?! John Black had both Tommy Wish *and* Reggie Estrada to back him up?!? And Atara still almost pulled it off!
BG: The word almost ain’t appearin’ in any record books I’ve ever read, Jacko! All I know is John Black just beat the #1 contender for the Anarchy Title! And whether Atty wins or Kline wins on Thursday for the vacant belt, you just *know* Mister John Black is gonna be anglin’ for a shot at the Big Blue Belt!
&list=RDKKiRou2LzHM&start_radio=1
The crowd roars to life as the familiar theme for Centurion plays. Out from the back steps Centurion, wearing a suit and holding the X-Treme Title over his shoulder.
JC: Well, this is an unexpected surprise. Centurion is here, fresh off his title victory at Relentless.
BG: He comes in from off the couch, fights in an absolute WAR of a match, and walks out as the X-Treme Champion! Not bad for a man half your age, Jacuinde.
JC: Oh, stop it!
Centurion looks to storm down the ramp as he usually does, but he stops towards the top to look out into the crowd and soak in the chants from the crowd in attendance. He cracks a slight smile before continuing to the ring. He slides in and gestures to ringside for a mic, which he is given. He looks at his title one last time before raising the mic to his lips and looking out into the crowd.
“Wow…what a month, huh? You know, my life has taken me down some very interesting paths - some planned, and many unexpected. This one, though - me standing in front of you as a champion at the age of 48 - that is certainly high on my list of unexpected paths.”
Centurion smiles as the crowd cheers again.
“You know, over the past month, I have done a lot of things. I have explained why I was back. I’ve defended myself. I’ve talked about my past, and my future, but there’s one thing I realized I haven’t done yet…and that’s apologize.
A year ago, I was given the send off of a lifetime. You all cheered as hard as you could for me. My friends, my colleagues, they all made comments celebrating my career and pointing out my accomplishments, and I made a PROMISE that night that I would never step back in a wrestling ring again. I made that promise to you, to my family, and most importantly, I made it to Thad Duke, who took great pride in being my final opponent.
And I broke that promise. And no amount of explanation is going to make that right.
You all had every right to boo me out of the building at Relentless…but you didn’t. Instead, you stood in my corner again, like you have for the past 24 years, and I can only thank you from the bottom of my heart.”
The crowd roars again.
“There is one thing I do know - one lesson that I have learned from all of this. And it’s that, no matter what happens, no matter how I may feel or how old I get…NEVER promise to retire. Because there’s no such thing as ‘never’ in this business. Thank you, XWF!”
Centurion raises the X-Treme Title to the air as the crowd roars once more and “Wild Thing” plays. Centurion takes a few minutes to soak up some cheers from the crowd before rolling out of the ring and walking towards the back.
JC: A truly heartfelt moment by the legend there. I have reached out to Centurion to ask him about his schedule moving forward, but he has yet to confirm anything. I’m not sure what show he’s going to be on, or how often he plans on wrestling, but what I do know…
&t=1s
Before Centurion makes it all the way to the back, the music for Scoops McGee begins to play. Scoops walks out from the back, dressed and ready for his match, and gestures towards the crowd before noticing Centurion hasn’t walked back through the apron yet. Centurion, on his part, stops when he sees Scoops step out, and the two stare eye to eye. Before long, the two begin jawjacking, and McGee’s music is replaced with the sound of the crowd roaring in anticipation.
BG: Now THIS is a match I want to see! Let these two old dogs batter the hell out of each other!
JC: Scoops McGee seems very interested in that X-Treme Title, and Centurion seems very interested in Scoops McGee!
The two step closer to each other and Centurion raises the title into Scoops face, causing Scoops to push Centurion away from him. Centurion shoves him back, but before a full fight could break out, officials from the back run out to separate the two.
BG: Oh come on!
JC: Scoops still has a big match with Sebastian Everett-Bryce tonight, and I’m sure the office doesn’t want anything screwing that up!
A few of the officials point Scoops towards the ring while the rest escort Centurion to the back.
JC: Folks, this next match is… It’s going to be insane. This is the sort of match that you’d figure you’d need state-of-the-art computer simulations to run! Two Legends from two different eras of wrestling meeting in the ring!
BG: And all it took was some old fool deciding to keep doing this into his SIXTIES, Jacko!
JC: You watch your mouth, Brody! Both of these men are beloved the industry over! And for the first time, they will meet HEAD-TO-HEAD! In a TEXAS DEATHMATCH!
The show is quickly interrupted by the sound of a distant synthesizer, followed up by horses neighing and galloping through the dirt. It fades out, leading into the riff of a guitar strumming a fiery tune. There's an inherent electricity building within the air of the arena, culminating as the drums kick in. As they do, the steadfast figure of Scoops McGee comes out from the back, a look of no nonsense etched onto his face as he takes a long look at the crowd and the squared circle.
JC: There he is! Scoops McGee! The ultimate X-Treme legend! He’s traveled the world over! He’s wrestled in Japan! He’s been around for the Territories! And incredibly, after over FOUR DECADES in the wrestling world, he finds himself on the grandest stage of them all! The XWF!
BG: Look, fine, I’ll play your game, Jacko! Yes, Scoops has an impressive career resume! You know what’s not on it! A SINGLE world title! Scoops is a journeyman! A stunt car driver!
JC: I think I would ask security to walk you to your car making statements like that Brody! I can’t argue with the fact that a world title reign is the last checkbox Scoops wants to check on a list of dream achievements any competitor would love to have… But, if anyone in this industry can have a world title reign at the age of SIXTY-THREE! It’s SCOOPS MCGEE![w/hite]
Scoops nods, steadily walking to the ring and absentmindedly high-fiving any fans stretching out their hands who happen to be right in his way. He makes his way over to ringside, climbing up the steps methodically and stepping onto the ring apron. He saunters about halfway across the apron, taking one last long look at the crowd as they give their reception to the seasoned vet. Scoops stretches his arms out wide, accepting everything they've got to give before stepping into the ring.
Scoops skulks over to his corner, pacing there and doing some small stretches to keep himself warmed up before the match begins.
…
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.
[white]JC: And there he is! Sebastian Everett-Bryce! TWO-TIME Universal champion! He came just inches away from going an undefeated THREE-and-OH! Three nights, three wins! If it weren’t for Charlie… Effin’... Nickles getting involved in SEB’s final match with Isaiah King, he could have had yet another hall of fame level achievement!
BG: And don’t forget, Jacko! He’s got the 24/7 briefcase! At any time, he could become the first-ever THREE-time Universal champion!
JC: SEB has made it very clear he wants to do it right! He wants to beat the Universal champion 100% straight-up! And if anyone can? It’s Sebastian Everett-Bryce!
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.
Scoops McGee
- vs -
Sebastian Everett-Bryce Texas Death Match In order to win, a competitor must first pin their opponent and then ensure they fail to respond to a 10-count to win.
JC: And here we go! Sebastian Everett-Bryce versus Scoops McGee — a Texas Deathmatch! Remember folks, you’ve gotta pin your opponent before the referee even starts that ten-count. This one’s gonna be brutal!”
BG: This one’s gonna be biblical, Jackie Boy. Scoops McGee’s been fightin’ longer than SEB’s been alive! He’s got bunions in his foot older than SEB!
SEB and Scoops circle one another in the center of the ring — the crowd already split between admiration for the veteran and anticipation for the technically gifted SEB.
Scoops’ lips tighten into a thin, weathered line. His fists twitch. His shoulders tense. He smells blood before there’s even any to spill.
Then—CRACK!
Scoops fires the first shot — a meaty chop that echoes through the arena. SEB’s chest instantly reddens, his jaw locking tight as he exhales sharply through his nose.
JC: Good lord, that chop sounded like a thunderclap! Scoops McGee wastes no time easing his way up to the hard stuff!
BG: That’s that farmhand strength, Jacko! He’s been smackin’ cows around since the Carter administration!
Scoops steps forward with another chop — then another!SEB staggers back toward the ropes, his body twisting under the impact. His hand clutches at his chest — the pain evident — but the glint in his eyes sharpens…
Scoops goes for a BIG chop!
…But SEB ducks under, before suddenly firing back with a European uppercut!
Scoops’ head jerks back into the corner, favoring his jaw… He nods, excited for an old school scrap…
In a snap Scoops lunges again, swinging a wild left forearm — the infamous…
CATTLE PROD!
But SEB’s too quick! SEB ducks low, his hips twist, and he fires another uppercut into McGee’s ribs this time — the move deliberate, controlled, a contrast to Scoops’ raw energy.
JC: That’s right there? Is maybe the most underrated part of SEB’s game… his adaptability! Every strike, every movement… has a purpose! Every minute, he’s tightening his game to counteract his opponent!
Scoops tries to bull forward, reaching for a clinch, but once again SEB sidesteps…
He feints high with a kick, then sweeps low, catching Scoops behind the knee. The veteran stumbles, one hand instinctively bracing against the mat.
BG: Scoops came here for a hoss fight, but SEB’s picking him apart with precision strikes!
SEB’s eyes narrow, immediately spotting a big opportunity… he grabs Scoops by the wrist, twisting the arm behind the older man’s back in a tight grounded hammerlock, forcing Scoops onto his stomach on the mat...
Scoops’ face contorts… His teeth grit, his breath short and sharp.
SEB transitions smoothly, rolling through the hold and dragging Scoops down to the mat. The crowd murmurs as SEB snakes his leg over Scoops’ shoulder, his posture shifting from opportunistic to predatory precision. He cinches in a…
CROSSFACE! SEB grinds the forearm across Scoops’ jaw while wrenching back the arm!
JC: SEB is working out a clinic on Scoops McGee!
BG: Scoops is a legend, but this technical grappling stuff ain’t in his wheelhouse! Hats off to SEB for knowing if he keeps things catch-as-catch-can, he can play Scoops like a banjo! You could give Scoops a GPS and three days of food, he’d STARVE before he’s finding a way out of SEB’s crossface!
Scoops’ free arm claws at the mat, pulling, dragging — every inch of motion powered by grit and fury. His mouth twists into a snarl. The crowd roars as his hand rises once more, shaking in refusal.
…SEB leans forward, trying to apply additional torque to the arm…
And THAT’S when Scoops reaches over the shoulder… and claws SEB across the eyes!
JC: Scoops McGee’s clawing at the eyes! He’s desperate— and he found his way out of the crossface!
Scoops’ fingers dig into SEB’s face, his thumb raking the eye socket!
SEB jerks back instantly, his grip loosening as his body contorts in sudden pain.
Scoops, knowing he needs to re-evaluate his approach, rolls beneath the bottom rope, collapsing onto the arena floor.
SEB’s back hits the canvas inside the ring, his teeth gritted, fingers rubbing at his eyelids in irritation. He blinks hard, shaking his head, trying to blink away the sting and the blurriness that clouds his focus…
JC: I think that eye rake *really* got SEB in the eye! They’re both getting an opportunity to recover here…
BG: Don’t speak too soon, Jacko!
Suddenly, from outside the ring, Scoops reaches back under the bottom rope, gripping SEB’s boot.
JC: Uh oh— Scoops is draggin’ him out!
SEB yelps in surprise as he’s yanked under the bottom rope and dropped hard on the floor outside! Both men land in a heap — but Scoops moves first, crawling into a brawling mount atop The Empire… Scoops launches a hard right hand that cracks across SEB’s jaw, then another, and another — his face lit with wild-eyed fury and pride!
BG: See, this? This AIN’T where SEB wants to be, Jacko! You don’t wanna get in a fist fight with Scoops McGee, he’s tough as old leather!
JC: Scoops is forcing SEB back into playing his game! An absolutely physical WAR!
SEB’s body jolts with each shot, but even dazed, his instincts kick in. He lashes out with stiff, snapping kicks to Scoops’ chest. Each strike connects with a thud, sending bursts of sweat and spit from the older man’s lips… As the kicks start to slow Scoops’ life-sapping straight punches!
BG: It’s two conflicting styles, Jackie boy! Scoops throws hammers, SEB throws scalpels! But both work as long as they’re hitting their target!
Scoops growls low, and suddenly grabs SEB by the wrist and hurls him backward in a rough snapmare!
THUD! — SEB’s spine collides with the cold steel of the turnbuckle post. His body arches in agony, face tightening, eyes wincing shut from the shock of pain shooting through his back.
Scoops takes a step back, sweat flying from his gray hair, his breath ragged but his eyes alive. He wipes his mouth, smirks, and charges forward — the crowd roaring as he barrels in for his signature running hip attack.
He goes to crush SEB against the p-
CRACK!
A perfect SUPERKICK detonates against Scoops’ jaw mid-air!
McGee crumples to the floor outside, his body falling stiff as a board before rolling to his back. The audience gasps, a split second of silence before erupting into cheers.
JC: WHAT a counter! Sebastian Everett-Bryce just cut McGee’s momentum short with that Superkick!
BG: He dang near knocked his dentures into the fifth row!
JC: Brody, you know very well Scoops doesn’t have dentures!
BG: I know nothing of the sort, Jackie boy!
SEB kneels beside Scoops, grabbing him by the scruff of the neck, muttering something under his breath before trying to roll him back toward the apron…
JC: Ring awareness on display here by Sebastian Everett-Bryce! He knows the longer he’s outside the ring, the more opportunity for… let’s say, ‘creative’ violence for Scoops to turn the tide in his favor!
BG: Don’t use euphemism, Jackie! The long SEB’s outside the ring, the more likely it is Scoops is gonna pull out barbed wire or a chainsaw!
But, as SEB tries to grapple Scoops under the bottom rope, Scoop’s eyes flash open — wild, bloodshot, dangerous! He drives a short, brutal punch into SEB’s midsection!
CATTLE PROD!
SEB’s whole body folds forward, a gasp escaping his lips as the wind rushes out of him.
Scoops takes a deep breath and pivots, wrapping his arm around SEB’s neck. In a single, surprisingly smooth motion, he snaps him backward!
THUD! Russian Leg Sweep!
Both men go crashing into the padded concrete!
SEB clutches the back of his neck, face contorted in pain, his teeth bared as he rolls over, groaning. Scoops lies beside him for a few seconds, chest rising and falling like a piston, before he props himself up on one elbow…
BG: See! Bad strategy by Scoops there! He’s an old geezer! What if he falls and he can’t get up?!? Is he wearing a Life Alert?
JC: Brody, show some class and respect! He’s hanging in there toe-to-toe with Sebastian Everett-Bryce of all people!
Scoops looks around, trying to figure out his next move…
Then — with that old sadistic glint in his eye — Scoops starts clawing at the floor padding! The Velcro tears away with a gritty rrrip, exposing the dull gray concrete underneath. The crowd buzzes!
JC: Wait— oh no, no, no! Scoops McGee’s stripping the padding!
BG: Here we go! Business is picking up! We’re about to see a Big Scoop, Texas Deathmatch style!
Scoops stands, breathing hard, sweat pouring down his face. He wipes his forearm across his brow and grabs SEB by the head, dragging him upright. His lips curl into a cruel grin as he positions SEB…
He hoists—
BIG SCOOP ONTO THE EXPOSED CONCRETE!
…
…..
But SEB twists, bringing his feet back to the padding!
Using Scoops’ own momentum against him, SEB pops his hips and launches Scoops up and over with a sudden…
BACK BODY DROP!
Scoops crashes down hard on the remaining padded section of the floor, arching his spine in agony, his hands flying to his lower back. His face contorts — eyes squeezed shut, teeth grinding together as he rocks in pain.
JC: What a counter! Everett-Bryce saves himself just in time!
BG: Elder abuse! That poor old man just hit the floor like a sack of concrete mix!
SEB leans against the ring apron, one hand on his neck, chest rising and falling as he looks down at Scoops writhing on the ground.
SEB approaches, gripping the veteran by the skull, his fingers digging into Scoops’ scalp.
SEB shoves Scoops under the bottom rope, rolling him back into the ring. The older man groans in protest, clutching at his back, every movement stiff and pained. He rolls onto his side, his face twisted in agony as he reaches instinctively toward his spine, the damage already visible in his grimace.
BG: This one’s O-VAH! Scoops is lookin’ ready to get put out to pasture!
SEB follows him in, sliding under the ropes… SEB yanks McGee upward by the neck… The Empire’s eyes flick to the ropes, already calculating the trajectory…
The crowd stirs, knowing what’s coming.
JC: SEB’s clearly sizing up Scoops for an Empire Kick! This could be it right here!
SEB whips Scoops toward the ropes—
—but Scoops plants his boots, stopping on a dime!. With a burst of veteran rage, he spins on an advancing SEB!
WHAM!
CLOTHESLINE FROM HELL! SEB gets folded inside out!
The crowd explodes!
JC: “WOW! Scoops just turned SEB inside out!”
SEB hits the mat hard, his body bouncing once before settling. Scoops drops onto him for the cover, hooking the leg.
ONE!
TWO!
THRE-NO! SEB shoots a shoulder up just before three!
JC: That was so close! Scoops McGee nearly had a pinfall on SEB!
BG: Nearly don’t win ya Texas Deathmatches, nerd boy!
Scoops shakes his head, knowing until his opponent’s beat, he’s still got work to do. His chest heaves as he crawls over SEB, straddling him… and McGee starts raining down mounted punches!
SEB’s arms come up defensively, blocking some, absorbing others. His head jerks with every impact, his expression shifting from panic to focus!
JC: SEB does NOT want to be in this spot!
BG: No, sir, Jackie! Every one of Scoops’ punches is like getting hit with a BRICK to the face!
Scoops reels back for a BIG shot… When SEB surges forward, latching his arms around Scoops’ neck!
From beneath, SEB hooks Scoops’ arm, shifts his hips, and reverses their positions—using McGee’s own momentum to roll him face-first into the middle turnbuckle!
JUDO ROLL!
JC: What a reversal! That’s that technical wrestling genius on display!
BG: He’s slipperier than a greased hog! Scoops didn’t see that one comin’!
Scoops’ forehead smacks against the pad with a loud THUMP! He turns around, dazed, blinking through the haze of pain and exhaustion, his back slumped against the corner.
And that’s when SEB rushes in, every muscle snapping to life—
BOOM!
EMPIRE KICK!
…
CONNECTS!
SEB’s boot connects flush with Scoops’ face, the impact echoing like a gunshot. The veteran crumples instantly, collapsing to the mat like a felled oak tree.
JC: EMPIRE KICK! EMPIRE KICK! SCOOPS IS OUT!
BG: Aw hell, somebody check his pulse!
SEB wastes no time, immediately hooking Scoops’ leg tight.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
The arena erupts as the ref’s hand hits the mat.
JC: There’s the pinfall! But remember, folks—it’s not over yet! This is a Texas Deathmatch! Scoops McGee has to fail to get up before a count of ten!
SEB rolls off, chest heaving, sweat glistening as he watches Scoops from the corner, one arm draped over the ropes for support. The official begins the count.
ONE!
TWO!
Scoops’ arm twitches. His fingers claw at the mat.
THREE!
FOUR!
He plants a palm down, shaking his head violently. His teeth grit, the camera catching the deep lines of defiance etched into his face.
FIVE!
SIX!
With a grunt that’s half roar, half groan, Scoops forces himself upright—one knee, then a hand on the rope, then, somehow, to his feet.
JC: Unbelievable! Scoops McGee just beat the count! He’s still in this match!
BG: I ain’t a big Scoops fan, but I will say this about him: You could hit that man with a truck, and he’d still get up to cuss the driver out!
The briefest flicker of disbelief crosses SEB’s face, as he watches Scoops force himself back to his feet…
Scoops’ face is a battlefield—one eye swelling shut, lips split, jaw tightening. Scoops lifts his fists, staggering out of the corner, legs a little shaky, but his fists eager for more…
SEB doesn’t decide to trade punches, instead snapping off a low kick to the thigh, then another, driving home the precision that defines him! Each strike makes Scoops wince, his body jolting with pain, but he refuses to drop.
JC: SEB’s clinical mind on display here! He’s trying to take away the base! If Scoops can’t stand, he can’t swing that hammer of a forearm!
JC: That’s the strategy—break the body, force the count!
But Scoops suddenly lunges forward, with another…
CATTLE PROD!
…
WHAM! CONNECTS! SEB gets knocked for a loop, staggering back into the ropes!
Scoops lets out a guttural shout! He backs up into the ropes… as SEB slowly stumbles forward, Scoops spins looking for a..
DISCUS LARIAT!
…
But SEB ducks! Scoops slings himself past SEB, giving The Empire his back!
SEB’s instincts kick in! He latches Scoops into a waistlock. Scoops’ eyes widen as SEB bridges back—
STAMFORD BRIDGE!
The official drops!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
JC: That’s two! Another pinfall for SEB!
BG: If he turns in a dozen, maybe he gets an acre of Scoops’ farm! But none of it counts one LICK until that pin is followed by a ten-count!
The crowd roars again, anticipating the possible end…
Scoops rolls onto his side, coughing, clutching his ribs. The official begins the ten-count—
ONE!
TWO!
Scoops shoves himself up to his elbows!
THREE!
FOUR!
Swip… Scoops’ arms swing… his legs look like they could give out from under him! But he is UP AT FOUR!
JC: How the hell did Scoops get up FASTER that time?!?
BG: Scoops McGee is one tough sumbitch!
SEB exhales, he runs both hands through his sweat-soaked hair…
Scoops leans back into the corner, his chest heaving, blood on his teeth and a faint grin behind it. He lifts a shaking hand and beckons SEB forward with two crooked fingers.
SEB snorts, before charging out of his corner…
JC: Uh oh! Scoops has backed himself into a corner! And SEB’s headed right for him looking like a runaway train!
He sprints to the opposite corner, the crowd rising to their feet, sensing the match’s crescendo.
He launches himself through the air!
EMPIRE KICK!
…
NO! Scoops ducks low!
WHAM! SEB sails past, crashing upside-down into the turnbuckle with a thud!
JC: What a reversal! SEB plastered himself right into the corner!
Scoops has enough years under his belt to recognize an opening… He charges, grappling the dazed Englishman. With a grunt of effort, he hoists SEB into the air—every muscle straining, his spine arching from decades of punishment endured…
He delivers a…
SCOOP SLAM PILEDRIVER!
…
CONNECTS!
The arena shudders from the impact. SEB’s body slams against the mat, the wind knocked out of him entirely.
Scoops hooks the leg immediately, sweat and spittle flying from his mouth.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
The crowd goes nuts!
JC: Scoops did it! Scoops just scored a pinfall on Sebastian Everett-Bryce!
BG: Gee-ZUS, Jacko! You’re still getting excited like any of these count! Until one of these men fails to respond to a ten-count, these pinfalls are worth as much as a wooden nickel!
The official starts a count over SEB’s fallen body…
ONE!
TWO!
Scoops exhaustedly forcing himself to his feet… before stumbling to hover over SEB. He mutters in his classic McGee drawl, daring SEB to get up, begging him to try and keep going…. His eyes sparkle with mischief and menace, every wrinkle telling the story of decades surviving this kind of punishment.
THREE!
FOUR!
SEB twitches… placing both hands on the mat under him…
FIVE!
SIX!
SEB exhaustedly shoves against the mat… his body slowly starts to lift… as he digs one knee under himself…
SEVEN!
EIGHT!
At eight, SEB gets his other foot under him, staggering back into the ropes!
The crowd goes insane!
By eight, SEB digs deep, finds the last of his resolve, and
JC: Unbelievable! SEB is back up at eight! This man is a machine!
BG: Both these fellas are fighting like the other cracked wise on his mama!
SEB… breathing heavily… locks eyes with Scoops. Sweat pours down SEB’s temples… as he beckons Scoops to come at him…
Scoops… exhausted himself… chuckles… Like after all this fighting, he’s recognized that he’s sharing the ring with a kindred spirit…
Both men, on aching legs, step forward to the center of the ring…
JC: Alright! It all comes down to this! Expect a drawn-out, hellacious scrap as both these m-
WHAM!
SEB fires a lightning-fast high kick into Scoops’ face!
The veteran staggers backward through the ropes, tumbling to the outside.
JC: …Huh. Disregard.
SEB follows his fallen adversary outside, landing carefully onto the padded concrete, stepping around the previously exposed area, every step measured.
BG: SEB knows part of getting that ten-count is keeping the blows rainin’ down. He doesn’t wanna let Scoops take his time getting back in the ring, he wants to take the fight and shove it down McGee’s gullet!
SEB steps tiredly over to McGee, lifting himself off his stomach onto his knees… McGee’s back up!
Just as SEB delivers another kick to the chest! The older man groans, staggering back against a metal post, sweat flying, chest heaving!
With a roar, Scoops summons one last burst of fury and charges…
…
STRAIGHT INTO A SUPERKICK!
Scoops’ head snaps back, legs wobbling, eyes rolling briefly in the haze. He collapses limply against the apron, loopy, every breath shallow and ragged!
JC: Scoops has the heart of a lion and the fight of a Texas Tornado! But it is starting to feel academic here! Every attack Scoops is mustering at this late stage, SEB seems to have a counter for…
SEB reaches for the spent McGee… He wraps a mit around Scoops’ neck, intending to shove him back into the ring…
But, suddenly, with a burst of remaining strength, Scoops drives his hands under SEB’s breastbone!
He heaves the Empire into the air…
ABOVE THE EXPOSED CONCRETE!
[white]JC: OH MY GOD! NOOOOOOO!
BG: YESSSSSS!
URANAGE SLAM ONTO THE EXPOSED CONCRETE!
SEB crashes down with a sickening, unforgiving, bone-jarring impact. Scoops grits his teeth, chest heaving as his aged back arches in protest!
JC: Oh my GAWD… Scoops McGee just hit SEB with a Uranage slam—onto exposed concrete! We haven’t seen Scoops pull off an Uranage since his days touring through Japan!
Brody: That’s it, Jacuinde! That’s what it takes to keep SEB down—pure, unrelenting old-school fury! And the willingness to pull out every trick in your book!
The crowd roars, half horrified, half in awe. SEB lies there, writhing, groaning, struggling to breathe. Scoops collapses onto one knee beside him…
Scoops slams his palm against his knee, shaking it like a mechanic working a stuck piston. Finally, after a few palm strikes, he finds the will to stand back up…
He grabs the quasi-conscious SEB, lifting him with a grunt, using every ounce of his back and legs to roll him under the bottom rope. SEB hits the mat inside, groaning, trying to gather himself.
JC: Scoops, seeking a pinfall after that GNARLY Uranage slam!
Scoops hooks the leg immediately, his chest heaving, eyes narrowing in focus.
ONE!
TWO!
THREEEEEEEEEEE-NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
SEB KICKS OUT!
The crowd gasps audibly, before going absolutely nuts!
[white]JC: …How?! How did SEB kick out of a Uranage slam onto exposed concrete? That’s insane!
BG: I don’t care if it’s diet, exercise or something outta Harry Potter! That Englishman’s got G R I T!
Scoops sits up slowly, shaking his head… His lips curl into a grim smile—part pride, part frustration.
The older man drags himself up to the corner, legs shaking, hands trembling…
And he begins to climb…
JC: Is Scoops going aerial! This isn’t territory Scoops usually ventures into!
BG: McGee’s knees are aching, his back is screaming—but the fire in his eyes pushes him upward! This is fucking AMAZIN’, Jackie boy!
SEB forces himself to a vertical base… and scrambles for the corner…
McGee reaches the top rope, his back to the ring… Just as SEB reaches him with a clubbing forearm to the back!
SEB climbs to the second rope, trying to latch his arms around Scoops’ waist…
WHAM! Scoops sending a decapitating elbow back that catches SEB in the skull!
…
SEB barely clings on… Scoops waits for the Empire to fall…
But SEB surges forward! With a headbutt to the back of Scoops’ head!
Scoops loses his footing, sitting down on the top turnbuckle!
With a desperate roar, SEB clinches onto Scoops’ waist…
And heaves McGee backwards!
SPIDER SUPLEX!
Scoops goes sprawling off the top rope with a THUD!
JC: Oh my! SEB hit the Spider Suplex off the top! We know what comes next! The MARKHAM MISSILE!
SEB climbs to the top rope, chest heaving, sweat dripping, eyes flicking down at Scoops who is already staggering back to his feet. The crowd holds its collective breath…
SEB carefully adjusts his footing, back to the action… Before he leaps!
MOONSAULT HEADBUTT!
…
…
DODGED!
Scoops leaps to the side with what little strength is left in his legs!
SEB lands chest-first on the mat, letting out a guttural grunt as the wind leaves his body. The audience explodes in cheers and gasps simultaneously.
JC: Oh my! SEB gambled and came up empty!
Scoops shoves himself with everything he’s got toward the dazed SEB… He heaves SEB’s skull between his legs… He heaves him onto his shoulders!
…
DYNAMITE BOOOOOOOOOMB!
JC: NO WAY! NO WAY! A DYNAMITE BOMB FROM SCOOPS MCGEE!
SEB is driven hard into the mat, his body slamming with authority. Every muscle seizes, every breath struggles to escape. Scoops collapses atop him immediately, hooking the leg.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Scoops gets the pinfall…
Scoops exhaustedly rolls off SEB, lying on his back…
The official counts!
ONE!
TWO!
SEB looks like he’s been embedded deep into the mat by that massive Dynamite Bomb…
THREE!
FOUR!
…SEB’s arms start to raise up…
JC: No way! Absolutely no way!
FIVE!
SIX!
…Seb exhaustedly tries to turn over on his front…
SEVEN!
EIGHT!
SEB’s arms shove the mat, to try and force himself up…
NINE!
…
But they give out! SEB collapses against the mat!
TEN!
WInner: Scoops McGee!
JC: It’s over… it’s finally over! SEB just couldn’t answer the ten-count!
BG: And the winner of this Texas Deathmatch… give it up for SCOOPS MCGEE!
The crowd erupts into a mixture of awe and disbelief. Scoops raises his bloodied, battered fists, chest heaving, eyes watery but alight with triumph. Every bruise, every scar, every ounce of pain he’s endured in decades of wrestling has culminated in this moment.
"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.
JC: Larry Tact has had quite a few championship matches. Always a tough out, sometimes managing to get the win, but he’s just looking for that consistent bit of success.
BG: Tact’s a smart guy, Jack. You’re never having an off night when you’re facing him. With a guy as much natural talent as he does, even in his older age, it’s only going to be a matter of time before one of the titles in this company finds a permanent home around his waist. It could even be tonight…
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.
The lights die without warning. Not a fade, but a full blackout that sucks the air out of the arena like the calm before a fire. Then, a strobing light, lime green, flares beneath the metal of the floor. Another, quicker and sharper. A third, holding longer now. Long enough for the crowd to catch a glimpse of the static forming on the screen overhead.
The distorted bass of “DEATHLIST” by Code: Pandorum and GHØSTKID blares across the arena’s speaker system low, grinding and industrial. It doesn't start like music, but more like a warning. Like the hum of something broken beneath concrete.The speakers rattle, and with them the crowd begins to stir as the opening continues to play, rhythmic and angry. Noise from the crowd rolls through like a cold draft in a sealed room, a few cheers, a few chants. But mostly unease.
"Do I love you? Or do I hate you?
Can I trust you without failing you?
Gonna tell you what the secret is...
You're number one on my DEATHLIST."
Whispered, the lyric doesn't rise above the crowd but cuts under it, precise and personal. The music drops out completely, not a fade, and not a glitch, just the same as the lights as they die out entirely. But then, detonation as the bass slams back in without warning, twisted and violent, louder than before. Strobe lights erupt in a manic wash of toxic green, casting sharp, flickering shadows across the sate. It's disorienting, like a spotlight wielded as a weapon. Motionless in that moment, Dickie Watson stands framed in light. No grand pose, no war cry, hair falling in his face and shoulders loose like man who doesn't need to prove he belongs here -- he already knows he does.
BG: And there’s the man of the hour. Gotta imagine Dickie’s feeling good after that match against Sarah Wolf at Relentless, right?
JC: Close-fought match for sure, but Dickie was the one who came out on top. It was a match that had been brewing for ages in the background with Wolf even costing Dickie during the King of the XWF tournament, but Dickie was the one who triumphed on the grandest stage for the gold. Now he’s going to be the one to defend that title tonight, but it certainly won’t be easy for him to do so…
He holds this, eyes floating over everyone, and then moves a beat later. Not with urgency, not with showmanship. Just steps forward like the rest of the world is moving slower than him. He doesn't look to the sides, doesn't soak it in. He's not here for the moment, he's here for the thrill. Every movement is precise, like a blade being unsheathed. Quiet, measured. He walks down the ramp towards the ring, eyes still glancing off to the side, turning his head slightly to acknowledge fans and enemies alike. At the barricade, he reaches out and slaps a few hands not necessarily out of respect, but more of obligation. These are the people who kept him alive for so long, and what he does this for.
He rounds the corner to right, bypasses the steps, and jumps, both feet hitting the apron in one clean lift. Without grabbing the ropes, without pause, he slings himself over the top and lands near the dead center of the ring, bent knees taking the brunt of his leap. He circles the ring once, loose-limbed, cracking his neck slightly, and stops. Near the far corner, he crouches with his elbows on his knees, fingers dangling inbetween as his music fades.
JC: And we’re off! Folks, you can cut the tension with a knife here, Television Championship on the line here in our main event, and you can tell these two men have no love lost for each other.
BG: Both men got a lot to prove in this match, of course. Tact’s got some wear and tear to his name but he’s still carving his place out here. Dickie’s the new champ, but does he have what it takes to keep that shiny gold around his waist?
Both men slowly walk up to each other as they come to the center of the ring, mouthing off to each other. Tensions are quickly boiling over as they continue to shout in each other’s faces-
SLAP!
A crack echoes out from across the arena as Dickie slaps Tact across the face before shoving him backwards!
Tact’s face is stunned and paused for a brief moment before he closes his eyes. His fists ball up, a shudder wracks its way through his body, and he glares back towards Dickie…
JC: I get the feeling he might have just made Tact mad, Brody.
BG: Well, these two guys aren’t exactly known for their standout temper, that’s for sure…
TACT SURGES FORWARD TO DROP DICKIE WITH A HARD SHOVE OF HIS OWN!
Dickie rolls backwards over his shoulders to try and bring himself up, but Tact is right there! He delivers a hard knee to the midsection to double Dickie over, followed by a hard shot to the back! Dickie winces as he quickly tries to scurry along the ropes to get away, but another clubbing forearm to the back causes him to double over!
14:27
14:26
14:25
Tact brings Dickie back up to his feet, and quickly Irish Whips him off the ropes. Dickie on the rebound now, Tact with a clothesline, Dickie ducks underneath, continues to run, Dickie on the rebound again, Tact ducks for a back body drop, Dickie turns and rolls over his back onto his feet, Tact turns around-
CHOP!
Another meaty sound of flesh-on-flesh echoes around the arena as Dickie manages to deliver a sickening open-handed chop right to Tact’s chest! Tact winces from the impact, but manages to hold firm as he grits his teeth right back at Dickie!
Another CHOP quickly follows that has Tact backpedaling now, and now he follows it up with a kick to the midsection!
Caught by Tact!
Dickie rises for an enzuigiri!
Tact ducks underneath!
Dickie lands on his foot though!
BUT TACT DROPS HIM RIGHT BACK DOWN WITH A DRAGON SCREW! Dickie lands hard as he holds onto his leg!
14:01
14:00
13:59
JC: We’re very quickly seeing these two strategies develop, coming about from both of these competitors’ tempers. Tact wants this slow, he wants this physical, he’s going to want to use his size and his strength to slow the competition down and prevent the champion from gaining momentum. Dickie’s going to want to pick up the pace though, prevent the aging Tact from being able to keep up and whittle him down over these 15 minutes…
BG: Dickie’s gonna want to do that, though, but it looks like Tact’s got his sights set on his leg. That’s the best way Tact can slow things down, especially with how reliant Dickie is on his high-flying skills.
Tact quickly grabs onto the targeted leg, holding it up as Dickie tries to kick him away in vain! Tact proceeds to drop an elbow right down onto the knee, causing Dickie to wince and huff in pain! Tact rains down more elbows, and Dickie grits his teeth while trying to bear the pain!
Dickie quickly comes alive though, delivering a sharp elbow to the top of Tact’s skull! It manages to stagger the big man, allowing Dickie to forcibly kick him off! Tact rolls off of Dickie, getting to his feet as the champion manages to follow, holding his injured leg while he does so…
Tact advances forward, but Dickie kicks him in the gut! He runs off the ropes again, Tact catches him this time, Tact with a short-arm clothesline, Dickie ducks, Dickie slips behind, Dickie runs in and moves around- TILT-A-WHIRL DDT!
QUICK COVER BY DICKIE!
ONE!
TWO!
KICKOUT!
JC: Tact came here meaning business tonight. Dickie’s gotta try to protect his leg and keep himself in the game before this could potentially snowball.
BG: Easier said than done though, Jack. Look at Dickie, he’s already limping.
12:45
12:44
12:43
Dickie composes himself, stepping out onto the apron as he looks to the turnbuckle-
BUT TACT IS RIGHT THERE! HE GRABS DICKIE BY THE INJURED LEG BEFORE HE STEPS ONTO THE APRON FULLY!
DRAGON SCREW! RIGHT ON THE ROPE! DICKIE HOWLS IN PAIN AS HE’S FORCED RIGHT BACK INTO THE RING!
BG: And that could cause you to sprain your damn knee! Tact’s got the eye of a killer here tonight!
JC: Those ropes are tied as taut as possible before every show, folks. Taking any sort of major impact on them could be a recipe for disaster, as Dickie Watson is now learning!
Dickie tries to hold onto the ropes for dear life, but Tact forcibly drags Dickie right to the center of the ring! He’s looking to turn him over into a Boston Crab! They’re twisting- twisting-
BUT DICKIE KICKS HIS WAY OUT! Tact has to back up from the boots to his chin!
Dickie reaches towards the ropes… he’s close, he’s got his fingertips on it!
BUT TACT IS RIGHT THERE! He drags Dickie by his ankles right back to the middle of the ring to deny him safety! Dickie tries to kick Tact away, but Tact boots him right in the gut to cut him off!
AND TACT TURNS HIM RIGHT OVER INTO THE BOSTON CRAB!
JC: A move about as old school as it gets, Larry Tact has got that Boston Crab locked on tight! A whole lot of pressure is being applied onto the lower back and legs right about now!
BG: The more this match goes on, Dickie is only painting a bigger target on his legs. He’s going to need to find a way to turn the tides and end this match quick… assuming he can get out of this submission hold in one piece.
Dickie’s body flares up in pain as he pushes up on his palms! His teeth are bared in pain, veins are throbbing in his forehead!
“DICK-IE! DICK-IE! DICK-IE!”
THE FANS ARE TRYING TO WILL DICKIE ON! BUT DICKIE CAN’T HEAR THEM RIGHT NOW! HE CAN’T HEAR THE REF TRYING TO ASK HIM IF HE WANTS TO GIVE UP! DICKIE IS ONLY FOCUSED ON TRYING TO MAKE IT TO THE ROPES IN FRONT OF HIM!
HE’S CLAWING HIS WAY FORWARD!
TACT SEES THAT DICKIE IS GETTING CLOSER! HE FORCIBLY PULLS DICKIE RIGHT BACK TO THE CENTER OF THE RING!
DICKIE TAKES THAT OPPORTUNITY THOUGH! HE KICKS! HE SQUIRMS! HE’S RESISTING WITH EVERYTHING HE’S GOT!
HE’S FORCIBLY TURNING HIMSELF OVER!
TACT GETS TURNED TO FACE DICKIE BEFORE HE EATS A RIGHT HAND! AND ANOTHER! AND ANOTHER!
DICKIE KICKS OUT WITH HIS LEGS TO FORCIBLY SHOVE TACT OFF OF HIM! TACT GOES SAILING BACK INTO THE ROPES!
DICKIE MANAGES TO PRY HIS WAY BACK UP TO HIS FEET AS HE USES THE ROPES FOR SUPPORT!
TACT IS RIGHT THERE THOUGH AS HE’S LUNGING TOWARDS DICKIE!
BUT DICKIE DRAGS THE TOP ROPE UNDERNEATH TO SEND TACT SAILING TO THE OUTSIDE! TACT FALLS OUT AND TRIES TO COME BACK TO THE RING-
ONLY TO EAT A BASEBALL SLIDE TO THE FACE! TACT GOES SAILING BACK INTO THE BARRICADE AS HE HAS TO CATCH HIS BEARINGS!
DICKIE WATSON SEES HIS CHANCE! HE PUNCHES SOME FEELING BACK INTO HIS LEG AS HE GETS HIMSELF FIRED UP! HE RUNS OFF THE ROPES WITH A RAGING FURY IN HIS EYES!
HE LEAPS OVER THE ROPES!
JC: SPRINGBOARD MOONSAULT! Dickie Watson with a picture-perfect dive onto the outside to wipe out both himself and Larry Tact!
BG: No hands needed, either! You could count on one hand the types of athletic specimen in this company capable of pulling something like that off!
10:21
10:20
10:19
Both competitors stir on the outside as the referee shouts at them from inside the ring, trying to restore order in this match. He quickly begins the count, trying to bring them back inside.
ONE!
TWO!
Dickie is on all fours now, reaching to the ring apron for support! He takes a deep breath, pulling himself up! He’s about to get into the ring, but he notices Tact slowly beginning to get up behind him!
Dickie hops up onto the ring apron!
AND HE FLIES AGAIN WITH ANOTHER MOONSAULT!
BUT IT’S CAUGHT BY TACT!
BG: Oh, this is about to get ugly.
JC: Freakish nature on display by Tact here! Despite the amount of mileage he’s carrying, he still knows how to put that 6’6 frame to good use!
TACT RUNS FORWARD ON THE OUTSIDE WITH DICKIE ON HIS SHOULDERS! HUUUUUUUUGE RUNNING POWERSLAM WIPES DICKIE OUT!
THREE!
FOUR!
JC: Tact could probably take a count-out victory right now with how hard Dickie got hurt on the outside.
BG: True, but that wouldn’t win him the title now, would it?
JC: The champion’s advantage, always difficult to try and navigate in times like these…
Tact takes a deep breath as he gets back onto his feet, trying to keep himself cool, calm and collected, but he delivers a sharp boot to Dickie’s head to keep him dazed. He ignores the ref’s attempt to bring the action back into the ring, instead scooping Dickie up and onto his feet.
Tact checks the distance behind him, before hoisting Dickie up and going backwards… before dropping him into a Stun Gun right onto the barricade! Dickie bounces right off of the unforgiving steel, practically seeing stars as Tact hoists him up again!
This time he’s going forward though! Tact charges forward to hit Dickie with a SPINEBUSTER right onto the apron! Dickie practically bounces off like a pinball as he collapses onto the floor!
FIVE!
SIX!
BG: Tact’s a lion right now. He’s picking Dickie apart like he’s meat in there.
JC: The human body isn’t meant to be tossed around like a ragdoll, and yet that’s exactly what Dickie Watson is having to face right now. Nothing illegal so far in this match, but Tact is making sure to bring as much brutality as possible if it means he can keep Dickie down.
BG: Well, when you’ve got championship gold on the line, you can hardly blame a man. Can you?
Before the referee can start his count again, Tact hoists Dickie back up and rolls him into the ring. He quickly rolls after him, cracking his neck as he sizes up his mark.
Dickie rolls over onto his gut, clearly dazed and confused. Tact continues to size him up, staying just behind him so that Dickie doesn’t see him. Dickie gets up onto all fours, holding his neck and back as he gasps in pain. He manages to crawl his way onto all fours, his entire body protesting against him…
He turns around…
Boot to the gut by Tact! He pulls Dickie in! Hoists him up onto his shoulders! POWERBOMB POSITION-!
OH! BUT DICKIE THROWS A RIGHT HAND! THAT MANAGES TO STOP TACT! ANOTHER ONE STAGGERS HIM BACK!
DICKIE ROLLS BACK INTO A HURRICANRANA! TACT GETS WIPED OUT FROM THE IMPACT AS HE ROLLS OVER!
HE TRIES TO GET UP QUICKLY, BUT DICKIE IS JUST A STEP AHEAD OF HIM! HE DOESN’T WASTE A SECOND AS HE LEAPS!
CUUUUUUUUURB STOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMP!
DICKIE FALLS BACKWARDS INTO THE PIN!
ONE!
TWO!
KICKOUT!
BG: That was about as desperate as it got there, Jack! If Dickie waited even a second longer, Tact would have hit the Star Power on Dickie, and that would have been all she wrote!
JC: Not to be, though! Dickie managed to have enough juice in the tank to quickly reverse out and fire back with a Rise to Glory! Though it’s just as impressive that Tact managed to kick out after such a brutal stomp like that!
8:07
8:06
8:05
Dickie gets to his feet right as he sees Tact rolling over and coming to a kneeling position! Dickie doesn’t let him breathe, though! He runs off the ropes and nails Tact with a running basement dropkick that takes him out and rolls him over onto his back!
Dickie quickly follows it up by getting back onto his feet and leaping into a standing Shooting Star press! The fans pop at the display of acrobatics as Dickie is trying his best to even the odds against Tact right now!
Tact manages to crawl to the ropes and pull himself up, getting to the corner to get away from Dickie, but Dickie is already in hot pursuit! A forearm cuts him off as he Irish Whips Tact to the other side!
But Tact reverses! Dickie is the one sent flying into the corner! Tact looks to follow it up with a running clothesline… but Dickie gets his foot up! Tact eats a solid boot as he walks back into the corner, shaking his head as he tries to stay out of Dickie’s range…
But Dickie instead comes onto the top rope and balances across the ropes like a trapeze artist! He gets himself into position and FLIES ACROSS THE RING FOR A DIVING SPLASH THAT TAKES TACT OUT!
BG: Can someone take a measurement of this guy’s vertical?! How the Hell did he pull that off?
JC: No idea, Brody. We know already that Dickie Watson is an athletic freak, but it never fails to amaze just watching the man in action.
Dickie smells blood in the water though! He seizes his chance, finally looking to climb his way to the top turnbuckle! The fans are willing him on as he grins while eyeing up his mark! Dickie straightens himself… AND LEAPS!
360 CORKSCREW MOONSAULT!
IS DENIED AS TACT RAISES HIS KNEES IN TIME!
DICKIE BOUNCES OFF OF TACT AS HE GRABS AT HIS TORSO IN PAIN!
JC: Tough luck there for Dickie Watson! If he hit the Echelon there, he could have been on his way to sealing this win up!
BG: Tact’s a sly dog! He knew what was coming there!
Dickie staggers his way up onto his feet, but Tact is right there! He delivers a boot to the gut, this time having Dickie in position so that he can slam him right back down with a BRAINBUSTER!
Dickie slumps over from the impact! Tact slowly pulls himself up onto his feet, rubbing his chin and jaw before pulling Dickie right back up…
AND CINCHING IN A MILLION DOLLAR DREAM FROM BEHIND!
JC: LARRY TACT TELLING DICKIE, YOU NEEDS TO TACTILIZE YOURSELF! HE’S TRYING TO CHOKE THE LIFE OUT OF HIM, AND HE MIGHT GET WHAT HE’S LOOKING FOR!
BG: Tact’s in the driver’s seat right now! He just needs to hold onto that submission for everything he’s worth!
5:55
5:54
5:53
TACT CINCHES IN THE HOLD DEEPER! DICKIE IS WHEEZING FOR AIR AS HE REACHES FORWARD IN VAIN! THE ROPES ARE TOO FAR!
DICKIE STEPS FORWARD! HE’S TRYING TO GET CLOSER!
TACT DELIVERS A HARD KNEE TO THE BACK THOUGH! HE’S TRYING TO CUT DICKIE OFF!
DICKIE HUNCHES OVER, BUT HE STEPS FORWARD AGAIN!
ANOTHER KNEE TO THE BACK! TACT SINKS THE HOLD IN DEEPER!
DICKIE IS STARTING TO FALL OVER!
TACT SMELLS BLOOD IN THE WATER! HE’S NOT LETTING UP!
JC: This is do or die, ladies and gentlemen! Dickie Watson’s brief championship reign is hanging in the balance right now!
DICKIE LUNGES FORWARD THOUGH!
BG: He’s still moving?!
DICKIE LAUNCHES TACT THROUGH THE ROPES TO BREAK THE HOLD!
TACT CATCHES HIMSELF THOUGH!
DICKIE WHEEZES FOR AIR AS HE PULLS HIMSELF BACK UP!
TACT LUNGES FORWARD WITH A SHOULDER THRUST TO FORCE DICKIE BACK AS TACT COMES RIGHT BACK INTO THE RING!
HE PULLS DICKIE UP!
BUT DICKIE COUNTERS INTO A SMALL PACKAGE!
ONE!
TWO!
KICKOUT!
JC: That was so close that Dickie could have tasted victory there, Brody! Tact nearly got caught off guard!
BG: It’s a seesaw right now, Jack! Time’s ticking down, and any mistake could spell the end here!
3:35
3:34
3:33
Tact sees the time ticking down on the X-tron, and he knows he’s running out of chances to get the win! He takes a deep breath, he knows he’s got to put an end to this!
He sees Dickie Watson getting up behind him! Tact steps in and delivers a European uppercut that has Dickie staggering back from the impact!
Dickie looks at Tact with every ounce of venom in his veins! AND HE HEADBUTTS TACT RIGHT BETWEEN THE EYES!
TACT FALLS TO A KNEE! HE LOOKS STUNNED AS HE SLUMPS DOWN WITH GLASSY EYES!
DICKIE STRAIGHTENS HIMSELF AND TAKES A DEEP BREATH! A SINGLE DROPLET OF BLOOD STREAMS DOWN HIS OWN FOREHEAD!
Dickie brings Tact onto his feet and holds him tight! He lifts him upwards with a roar!
DICKIE’S REVENGE-!
NO! TACT STEPS FORWARD TO CATCH HIS FOOTING BEFORE DICKIE COULD PROPERLY BRING HIM BACK FOR THE LIFTING REVERSE STO! HE DELIVERS A SHARP ELBOW! AND ANOTHER! AND ANOTHER! HE OPENS DICKIE’S GASH FURTHER AS HE HAS TO STEP BACK!
NOW IT’S TACT STEPPING IN! HE KICKS DICKIE IN THE GUT, LOOKS TO HOIST HIM OVER!
URANAGE SUPLEX!
BUT DICKIE REVERSES IT INTO AN ARM DRAG!
TACT QUICKLY GETS BACK ONTO HIS FEET BEFORE RUSHING AHEAD!
BUT DICKIE IS JUST A SPLIT SECOND AHEAD!
AND HE LEAPS INTO THE AIR TO PLANT TACT DOWN WITH A LEAPING STOMP!
JC: CALAMITY INSURANCE! DICKIE MIGHT HAVE CAVED TACT’S CHEST IN WITH THAT STOMP!
BG: HE CAN’T EVEN STAND PROPERLY!
DICKIE SLUMPS OVER FOR THE PIN!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Winner and STILL Television Champion: DICKIE WATSON!
THE REFEREE RUSHES OVER TO CHECK ON BOTH COMPETITORS WHILE DRAPING THE TV TITLE OVER DICKIE’S DOWNED BODY!
JC: What a war we just saw in our main event, ladies and gentlemen! Tact as game of a competitor as usual, but Dickie proved why he won that Television Championship over Sarah Wolf at Relentless, and he showed that his title reign isn’t going to be a mere flash-in-the-pan!
BG: I can’t lie, Jack. I thought Tact had him dead to rights a number of times. But Dickie just knows how to sneak up on you when you least expect it…
Dickie slowly drags himself up to his feet, giving a small nod of respect to the downed Larry Tact before his hand gets raised by the ref! Dickie holds his championship up high, celebrating with the fans as he grins!
BG: Better not change that channel, though! We still got the King’s Address to look forward to!
JC: Oh, joy…
Warfare fades to commercial for one last time.
The arena lights dim.
And then, a spotlight on the stage.
JC: What the heck is this?
Into the light steps a single drummer who begins to rat-a-tat-tat with a slow, marching rhythm.
It speeds up.
And is then joined with the stomping of feet.
More light shines from on high as rows of masked milita-men file out into the Frost Bank Center in perfect beat with the drum. On their backs, the XWF logo is proudly displayed. This is the XWF security team, but the company logo is secondary to another image:
A crown.
BG: I think I know exactly what this is, Jacuinde!
JC: I think I do too.
BG: Can I say the line I always say?
JC: Maybe just wait a second…
The troops stop, lining the aisle to the ring and cresting a defensive wall between the plebs in the crowd and whomever may pass through the entranceway.
The drumming intensifies.
And then… silence.
Light dies.
A solitary blare of a trumper.
And a voice rings out.
“HEAR YE! HEAR YE! PLEASE RISE FOR HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS, THE GREATEST WRESTLER ALIVE, THE TOUGHEST SUMMIT IN THE WORLD TO CLIMB, THE GREATEST TOURNAMENT PERFORMER IN XWF HISTORY, THE FIRST EVER BACK-TO-BACK KING OF THE XWF, YA BOI, AND NEEEEEEEEEEEEW XWF UNIVERSAL CHAMPION, THE UNDISPUTED, REIGNING, DEFENDED AND DEFENDING, KING OF THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE… KING KIERAN OF THE HOUSE OF KING! FIRST OF HIS NAME!”
Lights return. Frantic and blinding.
A guitar screams.
“The Gentle Art of Making Enemies” by Faith No More kicks in and eventually The King himself enters the scene.
JC: Okay, go ahead Brody.
BG: THE KING IS HEEEEERRRRREEEEE!
With the crown of the XWF atop his head and the Universal Championship around his waist, the image that Kieran King strikes is one of the most dominant displays the XWF has seen in years.
He strides to the ring, head full of hot air and comforted by his forces that guard the way.
He is, for all intent and purposes, untouchable.
When he enters the ring, he forgoes his usual chicanery. Instead, he just stands in the centre and basks in the conflicted views the crowd reign down upon him. He is simultaneously a veteran completing his story, and an autocrat with no regard for any of his subjects.
Kieran breathes it all in.
From the ceiling, a microphone lowers to him, which he takes willingly—glad he doesn't have to speak to any of the peasantry technicians at ringside.
King Kieran: One king. Zero revolutions.
The raucous crowd continues their mixed response.
King Kieran: A promise made, and a promise kept. And I have the distinct honour to be stepping before you, having worked for fifteen years to pick myself out of the gutter and return all the way to the mountaintop!
Oddly, the crowd starts swinging in Kieran’s favour.
King Kieran: This is the kind of thing that some people can only dream of. And yet… here we are. DREAMS! COME! TRUE!
With his head held high, Kieran appears oddly touched by the response of the San Antonians in attendance.
King Kieran: And I've got to say, fam… I'm so glad I got to be a part of it. I'm so glad that I got to be a part of Dolly Waters's dream of handing the Universal Championship back to its rightful owner!
And there's the turn.
He was fucking with them, and now this crowd has caught on.
King Kieran: The combined suckitude of Dolly Waters and Charlie Nickles has finally served a purpose, because by passing the baton to represent this company to their better, they have played an integral role in restoring the credibility of a championship that has been dragged through the mud thanks to their names and actions. They have righted a wrong.
More importantly…
He unhooks the Universal Championship from around his waist and thrusts it high into the sky.
King Kieran: …I HAVE RIGHTED A WRONG. I have corrected an injustice that was done to me fifteen years ago! And now… not for the first time, I have changed the course of XWF history, and I come to you not as the King of the XWF… not as the Universal Champion… but as the unified KING OF THE UNIVERSE!
ALL HAIL THE KING!
Pyro explodes on the stage, around the ring, and in spirals around the roof of the arena.
It just keeps going and going and going.
Eventually, the pyro fades into confetti raining down. King feigns wiping a tear from his eye at the display that he most certainly arranged for himself.
King Kieran: I've gone beyond what anybody before me has ever done. Dolly Waters's days are numbered and she is FAR FROM reaching 60% of the roster; Charlie Nickles goes to the back of the line; James Shark has gone to the island of irrelevancy; I already beat Isaiah; I already bear SEB. THERE IS NOBODY LEFT to challenge me!
So here’s where I get fulfill ONE MORE PROMISE. Because at May Day, I didn't just say I was coming for the Universal Championship. I said I was going to win it, and RUIN EVERYONE’S DAY by leaving with the title.
So… while you all bask in my glory, don't forget to check out my ass as I walk right out the door and leave you all with NOTHING to fight over.
See you in a few months… if I can be bothered. Or if there’s anybody worth my time.
Kieran drops the microphone.
JC: Wait a minute! Our new champ is not doing what I think he's doing, is he?
BG: His Majesty is a man of his word!
JC: We can't have a part-time Universal Champion!
BG: Are you going to stop him?
Suddenly…
The sound of “Gas! Gas Gas!” by Manuel blares throughout the speakers as the X-Tron is suddenly covered with… comic sans memes and stock graphs going up!
JC: Oh wow! It seems the Trillionaires are here to attend Kieran’s going-away party! And they might just have some words to the contrary!
BG: Why the hell are you excited, Jacko? Don’t you hate the Trillionaires even more than King Kieran?
JC: …Oh, yeah. Come to think of it, I don’t think I like anyone on-screen right now!
Elon Musk emerges from behind the curtain, a microphone in his hand, flanked by Jeff Bezos and Mark Zuckerberg…
Kieran walks toward the ropes, dangling an arm over the top rope… letting his Universal title hang on his shoulder, like a King waiting the appropriate show of fealty from visiting dignitaries…
But, interestingly, the Trillionaires initially don’t seem to pay him any mind… At first, they seem more pre-occupied with the masked XWF security team… which is still hanging around the ramp… standing imposingly as a backdrop for Kieran’s exit speech.
Elon Musk: Who approved this?
He gestures at the team, just loud enough for the microphone to pick up… Both Bezos and Zuckerberg shrug, looking at each other, and then shrug again.
Elon Musk: Inefficient. Why do we have this many security personnel securing the barricade? That’s what the barricade is for!
Elon waves his hand dismissively, as he fishes out his phone and presses a few buttons.
Elon Musk: Half of you are fired. The rest of you, I just sent an email demanding to know what part of the arena you’re securing. Reply immediately. If TWO of you secure the same part of the building? Both of you are fired!
…The security personnel, previously looking like a well-trained unit, are immediately scattered and broken into searching for some unique part of the arena to secure… naturally leaving the barricade exposed.
Elon Musk: Much better. Much more efficient.
Elon sniffs with approval, before moving down the ramp, closer to the King…
JC: This is what we were afraid of! The Trillionaires are running the show and they are making terrible decisions!
BG: They are making exciting and EFFICIENT decisions, Jacko! I, for one, welcome our Trillionaire overlords! They only make the best decisions, how else could they have made their money!
Musk, Bezos, and Zuckerberg reach the bottom of the ramp, circling the ring… Before stopping at the announce table.
BG: Hey Boss! Over here! I voted for you!
JC: Oh God, Brody, you’re going to hurt your back prostrating yourself like that…
Elon squints at the announce team. He points at one… then the other…
Elon Musk: Two ring announcers? What, one for each of my ears? Heheheh…
Elon elbows Zuckerberg…
Mark Zuckerberg: Heheh, fo’ shizzle my trillionizzle! It's wiggity wiggity whack! Right Jeff?
Jeff Bezos: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.
…Both Elon and Zuck look perturbed by Bezos’ naturally villainous cackle!
JC: Oh dear…
BG: Hahaha! Hope you enjoy the unemployment line, Jacko! It sounds like the Trillionaires think a trained chimp with a NeuralLink implant could do y-
Elon points at Brody.
Elon Musk: Fired.
…
BG: …Scuzi?
Elon Musk: Take him away.
Immediately, two security guards grab Brody under the arms!
BG: Wait! You can’t do this! I never thought these changes would affect me!
Brody is dragged away back up the ramp by two security personnel.
…Elon holds up his hands, creating a little frame… looking at just Jacuinde on the announce table… an empty chair beside him.
JC: …If I hold very still, maybe he won’t see me…
Elon Musk: Well drat, now the symmetry is off…
Elon looks back at Zuck and Bezos.
Elon Musk: I dunno, what do you two think?
Bezos and Zuck look at each other…
Mark Zuckerberg: Rogan?
Bezos nods.
Jeff Bezos: Rogan.
Elon touches his forehead like he should have thought of that.
Elon Musk: Rogan!
Musk snaps his fingers.
…Nigh immediately, next to Jacuinde is Joe Rogan.
JC: Ah! What the fuck! Where did you come from?
JR: Dude… I don’t even know, man. One second I’m in my studio talking in Austin about elk meat and neural networks, and the next—boom—I’m here. Like, I blinked and reality skipped a frame. You ever experience that? Like the simulation just… loaded a new scene? I think I might’ve just phased in from another dimension or something. Jamie, pull that up—see if there’s a clip of me appearing out of nowhere, bro.
JC: …Jamie? Who are you talking to?
JR: …Whoa. Where’d you come from?
The Trillionaires survey the scene around the ring, seemingly please…
Before turning their attention to the ring…
The King, watching the scene with great interest, pushes back from the ropes and… invites them in?
The Trillionaire Triumvirate glance at each other before accepting the offer and entering the ring.
King Kieran: It's good to have some brilliant minds finally running this place. See, the old crowd were idiots. But… useful idiots. Useful in the sense that I have a very, very, very good deal in terms of contractual perks. For example…
Kieran snaps his fingers.
Suddenly, that old security team leaps over the barricade once again and surround the ring.
King Kieran: They're not yours to fire. They're mine. And you're paying for them.
Elon scoffs.
Elon Musk: You have that in a contract?
Kieran nods.
King Kieran: TOMMY!
Tommy Gunn appears from nowhere and hands Kieran a piece of paper, which he then hands over to Musk.
Musk stares at it blankly.
He then hands it over to Zuck who… eats it?
Mark Zuckerberg (threw chomps of paper): Oh dude you're so screwed now! Hahaha! I totally just ate your contract, homeslice!
King Kieran: …That was a copy.
…Elon holds his hand out to Zuck, who regurgitates the contract into… what can best be described as a ball of illegible clauses… Like a hairball made of legalese…
…Elon nods, pretending to understand the… saliva-covered contract globe.
Elon Musk: Yes, well, my attorneys will work out the finer details for us…
Now, you said something… just a moment ago… That I couldn’t do something? That I… couldn’t… fire your security guards?
Kieran squints, thinking back on what he said.
King Kieran: …No? I don’t think YA BOI said those words. But, that *is* an accurate statement.
Elon Musk: Ooooooh, see…
Elon gets a glint in his eyes.
Elon Musk: I don’t like that. I don’t like being told that I can’t do something.
Elon looks back at Zuck and Bezos.
Elon Musk: Do you like it, boys?
Zuck is still coughing up bits of paper as Bezos tries to give him the heimlich…
Elon Musk: No.
Elon turns around like they actually supported what he was saying.
Elon Musk: No, we don’t. I didn’t like being told I couldn’t buy Twitter. And now I own Twitter.
Jeff Bezos: Weren’t you forced to buy Twitter after you made an offer you tried to back out of?
Elon Musk: NOT NOW, JEFF.
Kieran steps closer and drops his voice.
King Kieran: Look, I get it. I don't like being told I can't do stuff either. That's why any time I do, I go ahead and do it anyway. Which… in turn…
His voice rises back up.
King Kieran: …is why I'm the freaking KING OF THE UNIVERSE! And why, just as I said I would… I’m leaving with this belt. And if you really want to be told you can't do something… well, you can't stop me. But you can go ahead and suck it!
Elon Musk: Oh! YOU are the one who will be sucking whatever *it* is!
Elon pulls out his cellphone and waves at the other Trillionaires…
They gather around as it rings…
Elon Musk:...Hello, Maury! My lawyer? Pull up Kieran King’s contract out of the XWF_contracts folder I keep on my desktop!
…
Elon nods!
Elon Musk: Perfect! You found it! Okay, now, read me the part where it says I can fire his security guards!
…
Elon gets a look on his face
Elon Musk: What do you mean I CAN’T?!?
…
Elon Musk: Well, then I’ll fire HIM!
…
Elob Musk: I CAN’T FIRE THE UNIVERSAL CHAMPION!?!?
JC: This conversation probably should have been handled privately… and not in the ring in front of a capacity crowd and a sold-out audience.
JR: Content’s King! Eyes on the product! These are the sort of connections you make when you take my omega-3 health supplements, guys, I can taste color, I’m dropping a promo code on your screen…
Elon Musk: WELL WHAT CAN I DO, MAURY!?!?
…
The sound of pages in the contract flipping…
…
Elon goes from furious… to listening…
…
To… intrigued?
Elon Musk: Really? I can do THAT?
…
…Elon gets a wide smile on his face.
Elon Musk: What would I do without you, Maury…
Click.
Elon Musk: I just got off the phone with my attorney, who just reviewed the contract you handed us…
King Kieran: The one your pal back there tried to scarf down!
Elon Musk: The same. And it turns out… You’re right! I can’t fire your security guards!
King Kieran smiles confidently, crossing his arms…
Elon Musk: And I can’t fire YOU… while you have THAT!
Musk points at the Universal title on Kieran’s shoulder.
…
Elon Musk: What I CAN do… BECAUSE you have that!... Is I can MAKE you defend your Universal title at the next Pay-Per-View!
…
Kieran snorts.
Elon Musk: What’s so funny?
King Kieran: Dude. The next PPV is WarGames. No Uni champ has defended the title there in… ever! Nice try… but I’m picking the perfect moment to skate out!
…
Elon Musk: Nope!
In fact! AT WARGAMES! THE UNIVERSAL TITLE WILL BE ON THE LINE!”
IN!
WARGAMES!
JC: What?!?
JR: Oh man, this is crazy… I know like half the words people are saying right now, but it seems like something out there is happening…
The crowd is going nuts, as Kieran sees the seriousness on Elon’s face and realizes he means it.
Elon Musk: IN FACT, IN FACT! Because WarGames has been a cycle off for all champions before… And because I just bought this fucking company… (with my two associates)... and I want as many eyes on it to INCREASE ITS VALUE…
ALL TITLES WILL BE ON THE LINE AT WARGAMES?!?!?
JC: What?!?! All titles? What does that mean?!?
King quietly seethes as he looks from Musk, to Bezos, to Zuck, and back to Musk.
King Kieran: You know… I used to be a big fan of yours, Ellie. Hell, ‘improving efficiency? My dawg, I just simplified the hierarchy of championships by becoming King AND Universal Champion! That's efficient! But what I don't get…
…is what's so efficient about having three of you in charge… instead of just one?
Lighting quick, King Kieran sends a superkick flying into the face of Mark Zuckerberg who crashes to the ground!
Bezos quickly jumps into help by trying to pour the blood of a virgin sacrifice down Zuck's throat, as King bails from the ring.
His security team wraps around him as he backs up the ramp.
King Kieran: I’ve said it a hundred times before… the XWF has only ONE KING. Now THAT is efficient!
He thrusts the Universal Champion above his head in one hand, and the crown in the other.
JC: KIERAN KING JUST WIPED OUT ONE OF OUR NEW OWNERS! AND WE JUST FOUND OUT THAT ALL TITLES WILL BE ON THE LINE INSIDE OF WAR GAMES! THAT'S ALL WE HAVE TIME FOR, BUT WHAT COULD POSSIBLY HAPPEN NEXT?!
TUNE INTO ANARCHY THIS THURSDAY, AND I'LL BE BACK IN TWO WEEKS TIME WITH…I guess Joe Rogan?
JR: …Bro, you wanna try some Alpha Brain?
SPECIAL THANKS TO...
MATCH WRITERS
Peter Principle
Liam Desmond
'Big' Dick Lichter
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