Quote:

James Shark? Justin York? Your favorite XWF wrestlers?

Are facing incarceration!

Watch WRESTLING where EVERY WRESTLER IS INCARCERATED!

In the slammer! And getting SLAMMED!

Locked-up! And LOCKING-UP!

“CLASSIC XWF”-style wrestling!

CRUCIFIXION MATCHES!

HELL-IN-A-CELL… IN A PRISON HOTBOX!

UNLIKE OUR “TALENT”? THIS SHOW’S OFF-THE-CHAIN!

A rotund man with a Maple Leaf tie smiles.

“I’m Warden Yorkshire! I opened a private prison specifically to MAKE WRESTLING GREAT AGAIN, eh!”

COME SEE PRISON CHAMPION…

“DEATH ROW” BO!

…*click*

Irwin lowers the remote…

After watching that, Mark Flynn’s…

Frothing mad.

”Alright.”

“Let’s blow it up.”

---

Correctional Facility… AND TV STUDIO!

A prison guard struggles to juggle checking tickets and guiding fans…

”Uh… Section 30 is… Northside, by visitation… Take pictures, post on Instagram! Hashtag #LockWrestlingUp! An-”

”AHEM.”

The guard glances down.

At Irwin, Flynn’s number-one fan.

And Mark Flynn a mustachio-ed man, sporting a backpack, lanyard around his neck…

”...Uh… Tickets?”

”Pfffff. Name’s Chuck Raker! Covering this grim glimpse into wrestling’s nightmarish step backwards towards exploitation!”

”...what?”

”We’re Press!”

”Freedom-of-the-Press! The only thing you could call ‘free’ here!”

‘Chuck’ rapidly raises and lowers his lanyard.

”...That card just says ‘PRESS’”

…

”Yes. So? Never seen a Press Pass before?”

”...Guess not…”

”But I gotta check your bag before entry.”

”NO CHANCE!”

BZZZZZZT

”Let ‘em in!” An intercom hums.

‘Chuck’ glances up…

Security cameras above… Flashing red…

”Nice to see the… ‘Press’…”

”Careful, Newsman! Get too close to our ‘talent’? Might end up in HOLDING, eh?”

”Haha, cuz prisoners are ‘in holding’, but submis-...you get it.”

…’Chuck’ eyes the camera suspiciously… before entering.….

---

WARDEN’S OFFICE

Warden Yorkshire presses a remote button, freeze-framing his feed.

”That hoser, Frank? That’s MARK FLYNN!”

”How can you tell?” Frank, the Head Guard, scratches his head.

”Ohhhh, I knew that keener with his highfalutin revolution chatter couldn’t resist the ol’ honeypot!”

”Or, Up North, ‘maple syrup jug’!”

”...But, what about his bag? He could have… bad… STUFF!”

”Frank, you ever consider the logistics of the XWF having TWO champions in the prison system?”

…Frank blinks slowly.

”James Shark has a state-trooper entourage escorting him ringside! Justin York needs prison staff! That ‘service’? BILLABLE! Guess who foots the bill?”

”...XWF?”

”Bingo. Or, more accurately, Thaddeus Duke. The wrestling industry’s deepest pocket.”

”That muckraker? Is a license to print MONEY! Whatever contraband he’s got? JUSTIFICATION! To take him into custody and force him onto my roster!”

”I’ll book him for mischief! Then book him to wrestle! THEN rent him back to XWF! We’re milking the beaver at both ends!”

”...Beaver milk?”

”Gather your men!”

---

Flynn and Irwin slink backstage…

”Okay.” Flynn lowers his bag. ”We’re dropping a BOMB on this operation!”

”GET ‘EM!”

Suddenly, PRISONER-WRESTLERS! Orange-jumpsuited grapplers grip Flynn’s limbs!

”FRIENDLY! FRIENDLYYYYYYYY!”

”Don’t hurt me!” irwin immediately goes prone…

”So.”

Emerging from the darkness!



“Death Row” Bo!

”XWF’s Mark Flynn… graces our humble promotion...”

”Wait!” Flynn wriggles in his captive captors’s grips. ”Lemme expl-”

WHAM! Gut Punch! Flynn doubles over…

”First, that Warden makes us wrestle… Then, you come to blow us up?! Just like you blew up that MayDay show with Dolly Waters?!?”

”No… *hrk*...Listen…”

”Said he’d ‘splode us, Bo! Wanted to drop a BOMB!!” A luchador prisoner lifts Flynn’s bag.

”He did. Whadju bring for show-and-tell, Flynn?”

The luchador dumps Flynn’s bag, revealing…

…’Know Your Rights’ brochures?

”...Papers?”

Bo wrenches Flynn upwards!

”You said you had a bomb! Where is it?!?”

”*You’re LOOKING AT IT! TRUTHBOMBS!”

”Irwin! Brochure!”

Irwin frisbees literature into Flynn’s hands!

”This information!” Flynn raises his holy weapon aloft! ”Contains your RIGHTS! The tool NO GUARD can confiscate from you!”

…

The prisoners surround Flynn…

---

”Alright!” Yorkshire, flanked by many guards, stands outside the Locker Room. ”Catch Flynn with contraband! Detain him… We get rich, eh!!”

”...Not in Canadian dollars, right?”

”NOW!” The guards storm!

…

Inside.

The roster sits, listening…

”HOT BOX Wrestling? Eighth Amendment! YOU have a RIGHT! NOT to suffer CRUEL and UNUSUAL punishment!”

”Wait. Wrestling ain’t a punishment!”

”Sure, Jorge! BUT! Living conditions, IF inhumane, implicate the Eighth Amendment! Y’all have RIGHTS to decent conditions!”

The prisoners chatter excitedly, flipping through their own brochure copies!

”Now!” Flynn raises a Lockdown poster. ”Name/Image/Likeness rights! Y’all getting paid for promotional materials?”

”This was s’posed to be a riot! Not a sitting circle!”

”See! He WANTS y’all fighting each-other! He DOESN’T want y’all equipped with knowledge!”

”...Wait, he just brought… thin books?”[green] Frank squints, not knowing the word ‘brochure’. [green]”Whaddywe do, boss?”

…The Warden...

Grasps his remote.

And shuts off his cameras.

”They’re Rioting! Stop ‘em!”

The guards advance!

…The prisoners stand shoulder-to-shoulder beside Flynn!

”UNITED WE STAND!”

The forces clash!

---

Justin York.

I remember you.

Casino Kid.

Must’ve won big.

…Or just not paid the house its share, huh? Mister Tax Fraud?

Now? You OWN Pro Wrestling Valor!

Not the gambler, but the House.

Shit-talk Thaddy all-day, Justin.

But, you’re BOTH ultra-rich businessmen…

Paying talent pennies on-the-dollar…

Exploiting OUR love of glorious combat…

Tricking US into fighting against each-other.

And not over-throwing you..

…

That’s your trick, Justin.

Your recent matches.

Triple-threats.

Sit back.

Let your opponents beat each-other.

Then, steal the victory.

…

My ol’ pal, Flynn, once played that easy game.

Tricking people.

Pointing at a paper crown.

Declaring yourself King.

Funny how, after the Revolution came about…

Kings started crawling out the woodwork, demanding we all bow-down.

You’re a FRAUD, York.

Claiming you’re fit to rule.

When you’re not even fit to file a W-2.

…

Now? Flynn and I play a harder game.

Telling the TRUTH.

That people like you.

And Thad.

Wage a proxy war.

Lobbing insults.

Festering tribalism.

Exploiting intra-class conflict.

The talent sacrifices life-and-limb in your names...

While you both sit in boardrooms, counting cash.

…But YOU… made the general’s worst mistake.

Entering the battlefield.

The ring?

Where boss and labor are truly equal.

On Sunday?

I’ll free the wrestling world from your ‘Kingship’.

…

The rebellion? STARTS at Rebellion!

All Kings Will Die.

And, Justin?

Your Funeral?

Will be…

CLOSED-CASKET.