An XWF Logo fades from black and onto the TV screen before video recap plays…
Quote:July, 20th 2025
Lexington, KY
XWF Leap of Faith:
SUPER
DIVING
ELBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW!
RIGHT ONTO CHARLIE’S HEART! DOLLY HOOKS THE LEG!
OOOOOOOOOOOOOONE!
TWOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
T
H
R
E
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
WINNER AND NEW UNIVERSAL CHAMPION: DOLLY WATERS!
THE CHORUS OF ‘ODE TO JOY’ BLASTS THROUGH THE SPEAKERS!
JC: SHE DID IT! DOLLY WATERS DID IT! SHE SCALED THE TOP OF THE MOUNTAIN AND WON WHAT EVERYONE SAID SHE COULDN’T WIN! DOLLY WATERS IS STAYING IN THE XWF, AND SHE’LL BE HERE AS YOUR NEW UNIVERSAL CHAMPION!
Dolly Waters pulls herself up to her knees, as the referee scrambles to her with the Universal Championship in hand.
He leans down, handing it to Dolly. She cradles it for a moment, her eyes wide staring at the gold. The ref tries helping her to her feet, but Dolly staggers up, albeit limping, but under her own strength.
She looks around the arena. Her hometown crowd here in Lexington is going absolutely ballistic with a revolutionary fervor. She looks over to Peter Principle as Preesh and Kiss struggle to pull Charlie out of the ring. A little smirk dances on her lips…and she raises the Universal Championship high into the air.
Fireworks begin erupting over Kroger Field in Commonwealth Stadium.
Dolly looks out to her longtime friend Thad Duke, who is giving her a round of applause. She nods her head, and then proceeds to do the unthinkable…
JC: Wait… what’s Dolly doing?
She exits the ring, and climbs up on the barricade to the stands. She looks back at The Corporation one more time… for the last time… and raises a single fist into the air before jumping the barricade.
BG:She’s running off with the title, Jack!
JC: She’s being carried off by the people in the stands– her people!
While the people’s symphony of Ode To Joy continues to ring through the stadium, Dolly is carried along by the people themselves. Crowd-surfed. It’s like we’re watching an uncut folk opera. A moment of Appalachian majesty.
She’s carried all the way up to the exit of the stadium, where she comes to stand, and looks down on the XWF ring… one last time.
JC: Oh my god, Brody… Dolly’s contract with XWF expires tomorrow, you don’t think that she’s-
BG: Think it? Damnit, Jack, I know it! This little hussy is running off with the most prized possession in professional wrestling, the XWF Universal Championship!
The scene fades with Dolly again, raising a single fist of revolution into the steamy Kentucky air, as she and the Universal Championship vanish from sight.
….
…….
………..
The broadcast to XWF Warfare opens with revving engines, and leather gloves twisting on motorcycle handlebars, as the world’s largest celebration of motorbikes plays host to some XTreme Wrestling Federation action.
The camera pans over to JC and BG who are sitting behind the commentary table, with a sea of bikers and wrestling fans alike surrounding them and roaring with approval.
JC: XWF Fans! Welcome to Monday Warfare! Live from the 85th Sturgis Motorcycle Rally here in the scenic Sturgis, South Dakota!
BG: The air is crisp, and full of fumes, Jackie! Not only because of all these motorcycles, but because the XWF is absolutely on fire right now!
JC: Indeed! And as Brody is alluding to, ladies and gentlemen, we have a monumental show lined up for you tonight. The Xtreme and Television Championships are on line here tonight, and headlining the broadcast is a main event featuring two of the absolute best wrestlers in the world, but first… we need to address what has been the biggest story in professional wrestling over the last two weeks:
At Leap of Faith, Dolly Waters did the unthinkable!
Overcoming the odds, and defeating Charlie Nickles and The Corporation for the Universal Championship… and then in a shocking turn of events, Dolly fled the arena with the title, and walked-out of the XWF without re-signing her contract, making the XWF Universal Champion, officially, an un-signed free-agent.
BG: I think it’s ludicrous, Jackie. Dolly is not the XWF Universal Champion. She walked out on that privilege! All for some fanciful dream to turn this business into communist China!
JC: Brody, I think you forget exactly what happened in the weeks leading up to Leap of Faith. First, Dolly Waters and Madison Dyson were cheated out of the tag team championships by Peter Principle and The Corporation. Then, to add insult to injury, Peter forced her to wrestle again, the same night, against an AI Android of all things, which led to her literally being injured. And then, without any cause, Principle suspended her indefinitely. Dolly Waters was fighting for the call for reformation of the wrestling industry, and if this crowd is any indication, she’s not alone in those calls!
The camera pans around showing hundreds and hundreds of fans wearing Dolly shirts, and holding signs in support of the Universal Champion.
*DOL-LY! DOL-LY! DOL-LY!*
They’re chanting,
Suddenly, the broadcast feed switches from the stadium in Sturgis, to an undisclosed area. Some fancy looking hallway where we see Steve Sayors standing in front of a door that reads:
XWF BOARD OF DIRECTORS
Steve: Jack? Brody? I’m coming to live from this unique setting here in Sturgis, where the XWF Board of Directors are rumored to be awaiting the arrival of-
There’s a commotion in the distance, the camera turns and we hear the crowd who is watching the broadcast live ROAR as we finally see her… The Universal Champion, Dolly Waters.
ISteve: It’s her! She’s here!
Dawning all black, as always, but for the first time- wearing the Universal Championship around her waist- Dolly is being escorted by XWF security detail through this highly secure, undisclosed area in Sturgis.
Steve and the camera crew rush up to her, shoving a mic up near her mouth, and walking alongside her as she marches with purpose, her gaze not breaking from the office door…
Steve: Dolly- DOLLY! Your contract in XWF expired exactly two weeks ago, just hours after you won the Universal Championship at Leap of Faith. Rumor has it that today, you’ll be meeting with the board of directors to renegotiate that contract…
Depends.
Steve: On what exactly? What is it that you’re after?
She stops, turning slightly to face the camera,
I ain’t here to play nice, Steve. I didn’t fight through all the bullshit, the system, or the deep corruption in the XWF just to leave things as they are. I didn’t just take this title from Charlie Nickles and The Corporation at Leap of Faith, I took it from the people who’ve held all of us down for so long. Now, I’m here fighting for every wrestler, every worker of this industry who’s been silenced, exploited, or left behind.
She motions to the title,
This?
This ain’t just about the Universal Championship.
This is about sending a message.
One that ain’t gotta’ involve beating people down, or ending careers to prove yer’ worth.
Dolly looks over, feeling a particular set of eyes on her.
The eyes of the King of the XWF, King Kieran. A look of disgust on his face as he leans against the wall, his arms folded.
Dolly returns a little smirk from across the hallway, and then turns back to Steve,
I’m here to leverage this leverage, not just for me, but for the future of this industry…
She pauses, her eyes narrowing back at King.
...an industry that *some people* could give a damn whether it -or the people working for it- lives or dies.
She reaches the door to the office and turns back to the camera one more time,
I’m here on the behalf of hundreds… of thousands… who are demanding the first-ever union in professional wrestling; a guarantee that we’ll never be abused by this wannabe monarchy of a system again.
That means equal pay.
Guaranteed healthcare and retirement.
Dignity and respect for its workers and talent.
If they want me to stay, then this is the price. If they won’t pay it, they can kiss me and this title goodbye.
She gives the camera one last look before entering the office, her voice trailing off as the door closes behind her.
The broadcast to XWF Warfare fades to commercial break.
[JC: Welcome back to XWF Warfare! That was quite the opening to our program tonight, and it’s gotta’ make you wonder what might be in store for the future of XWF.
BG: All it makes me wonder is how the education system, especially in a good, god-fearing Republican state like Kentucky could’ve failed Dolly Waters so badly, filling her feeble mind with liberal propaganda.
JC: Hmmm… I don’t know, Brody. Unions are as American as apple pie. And you know what else is? Motorcycle rallies… and the XWF Xtreme Championship! And up next? Our opening match of the evening:
Solomon Kline, who has been on absolute tear as of late, defends the XTreme Championship against two of the most talented competitors in all of wrestling, Bobby Bourbon and Aurora! This should be an absolute thriller of a contest!
Take a look to the sky just before you die
It’s the last time you will
The arena plunges into total darkness. The faint hum of a crowd is cut off by the hollow clang of a funeral bell, echoing from every corner of the venue.
A deep, green light pulses once… twice… then holds steady as the iconic intro riff of Metallica’s “For Whom the Bell Tolls (Live with the San Francisco Symphony)” rumbles to life. The timpani and strings crawl in slowly like a thunderstorm on the edge of the valley.
Then, the screen comes to life – black background, one glowing word etched across it:
. : A U R O R A : .
As the first heavy guitar chug hits, a mako green spotlight crashes down on the stage. The smoke rolls in thick from beneath it. Standing within the mist is Aurora – head bowed, her hands clenched at her sides. Her silver hair is pulled into a tight ponytail, the faint green glow catching along its strands.
Rochelle Adams: Making her way to the ring at this time, from Arizona Bay… she is… the Catalyst… The Weaver of Dreams… She is… AURORA!
She doesn’t move at first – until the second bell tolls, echoing like an omen. Then, with precise, deliberate steps, she walks forward through the fog, her silhouette flickering like a mirage amidst the heat of the Sonoran desert.
Aurora circles the ring until she reaches the southeast ring post, grips the middle rope with both hands, and ascends to the apron.
Another emerald spotlight floods down as she stands center-apron. The lights above project shimmering auroras across the smoke-filled ceiling – spectral and unsettling. It follows her into the ring, where she ascends the southwest turnbuckle.
She slowly lifts her head to face the crowd.
JC: Here she is, the newly revealed Dreamweaver of the Black Rainbow! Or should I say, the turncoat of the Black Rainbow! All the potential in the world, and Aurora throws it all away to join them!
BG: I’m no fan of the Black Rainbow, Jac’, but you’ve got to imagine that Aurora sees this group as an opportunity to cement herself in the XWF.
JC: Beyond what she already has? It’s disgusting, Brody!
The lights in the arena go deep blue as smoke fills the air. Pink and silver laser lights cut through the smoke and it looks fucking rad.
As Bobby's music blares throughout the arena, slowly walking out onto the entrance ramp is Bobby Bourbon. He looks out at the crowd in the arena, cold and stoic, surveying his unique surroundings. He stops and raises his fists at 45 degree angles, and continues his deliberate plod towards the ring. He raises both arms outward, accepting fives, slaps, daps, knucks, and touches as he does. He looks on into the ring, feeling the energy of every fan he makes contact with. He stops, and begins stomping in place, with the utmost joy to be in front of the XWF crowd. He stops a camera.
"I'm a bad, bad man, but like my home, the XWF, I have plenty of bad, bad fans!"
Bobby climbs the steps, then climbs the nearest ring post half way and raises his fists at 45 degree angles. The lights go back to normal and the music stops. The fans in attendance all echo their sentiments for the match.
The revving of motorcycle engines only adds to the aura.
Bobby acknowledges the crowd. They roar. Bobby looks back at Aurora.
JC: Bobby Bourbon is of course one half of the XWF Anarchy Tag Team Champions. With his partner Thunder Knuckles adding the Revolution Championship to the team's collection, Bourbon has a chance to also become a double champion here!
BG: Bourbon's a living legend. He's a strong favourite going into ANY match.
JC: But here comes the reigning champion, Solomon Kline, who has started gathering a TON of momentum with two defences under his belt already! Can he get one more here tonight and get himself past the half way mark towards that 24/7 briefcase!
BG: We'll find out!
"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. As the lyrics come in, he stands, removes his hood and surveys the crowd as sparks rain down around him. He grooves his way toward the ring, and high fives fans along the way. He circles the ring and slides under the bottom rope. He continues rocking out to the song and goes to the turnbuckle to let out a primal scream, singing along to the lyric, "Here am I, take me to the pearly gates, so I can look you in the eye when I spit in your face!"
He returns to the ring and readies himself for the match.
With all three competitors in the ring, the referee hoists the Xtreme Championship belt in the air. As he does, a rowdy biker from ringside hops the barricade and rushes the ring! He goes to attempt a schoolboy pin on Kline!
JC: These fans are on a highball of all manner of drugs and booze!
BG: Of course a couple of them want to try the Xtreme Champion!
Kline rolls through the pin attempt and back to his feet, but another member of the crowd has rushed the ring! Aurora looks on as this happens, but Bobby grabs the second fan by the throat, an eager grin on his face!
A third fan enters, and Aurora nails them with an Entropy Blade!
Bobby hoists the doofus he caught and gives them an EMC over the top rope to the outside!
Kline stomps on the face of the man who attempted to pin him!
A full scale riot erupts in Sturgis!
The crowd begins brawling themselves as the referee calls for the bell!
JC: Brody, the safest place in Sturgis might be in the ring itself!
BG: I don't know about that, Jackie!
All three competitors turn and face each other.
Bobby jaws off at both competitors as all three approach the center of the ring.
Kline reaches up and goozles Bobby, his grip around his throat.
Bobby returns the favor, gripping Kline by the neck!
Aurora bounds off the ropes and lands a Meteor Blast on both opponents!
NO!
Bobby backpedals and pulls Kline into taking the full brunt of the maneuver!
JC: Bourbon with a wily veteran move there, Brody!
BG: I think Bobby prefers the term “cunningly diabolical move”.
Aurora is back to her feet, and she nails Bobby with a heavy back chop.
Bobby retaliates with a forearm!
A chop from Aurora!
Bobby grabs Aurora and goes to dump her over the top rope!
Aurora clings on, pulling Bobby out as well!
Aurora with a neck strike to Bobby!
Bobby grabs Aurora and whips her into the barricade!
NO!
Aurora counters, sending Bobby into the barricade!
A bottle is smashed over Bobby’s head, and he's dragged into the riot happening in the crowd!
JC: Oh my God! This insane crowd has just pulled Bobby Bourbon into it!
BG: Call the National Guard, Jackie, while there's still a Sturgis standing!
Aurora slides back into the ring, but is caught with a shoulder block from Kline!
Kline with a knee drop to Aurora!
Kline brings Aurora to her feet, and sends her into the corner!
Kline follows with a huge clothesline, and steps back.
Aurora stumbles out of the corner, and Kline catches her!
Kline with Ashes to Ashes!
Kline with the cover!
1…
2…
Aurora gets a shoulder up!
Kline looks up at the referee, confirming it was a two count!
JC: Brody, you have to wonder, will the Black Rainbow have an impact in this match?
BG: Jackie, I think this crowd is too raucous for the Black Rainbow to have a meaningful impact here!
Kline starts to bring Aurora to her feet, but suddenly length of chain is hurled into the ring from the crowd and cleans the clock of Kline!
Kline recoils, allowing Aurora to get her bearings, and she again rushes her opponent with the Entropy Blade!
NO!
Kline catches Aurora, and hoists her for a big powerbomb!
NO! Aurora whips Kline to the outside with a snap Frankensteiner!
Aurora backs off to thw opposite rope, and comes back with a corkscrew tope con hilo!
NO!
Kline catches her, the pitches her unto the third row!
Aurora is carried off by the crowd as she engages in the riotous brawl, ringside.
Kline rolls back into the ring.
As he does, lurching out of the crowd, face caked in blood, is Bobby Bourbon.
JC: I thought this one was over, but Bobby Bourbon seems to have fought his way through Sturgis to get back in this match!
BG: He looks like a damned demon escaping hell!
Bobby looks up into the ring, the whites of his eyes contrasting with the five star crimson mask of blood he is adorned with.
A sick smile forms on Bobby’s face.
JC: Brody, there's blood in his teeth, do we know if it's his?
BG: I am not asking him. Ever. He'll bully me, say my name is dumb, and take over on commentary.
Kline beckons for Bobby to get back in the ring as Bobby slowly plods towards the ring.
Kline shoots off the ropes and goes for a huge suicide dive!
NO!
Bobby takes two steps to the left, shaking his head ‘no’.
Bobby looks down at Solomon, then at the ring. Bobby reaches underneath, and pulls out a bag.
Bobby looks inside, and is bemused. He pulls out a D cell battery.
JC: Bourbon’s going to beat Kline with a sack full of batteries!
BG: How many bags are under the ring? Snakes, tacks, now batteries?
Bobby looks back at the prone body of Kline.
Bobby winds up.
Bobby swings the sack full of batteries at Kline.
NO!
Solomon Kline rolls out of the way!
Kline with a boot to Bobby from the floor!
Bobby recoils, slinging the sack skyward as batteries shower the infamous Sturgis Riot of 2025.
Kline to his feet, and he throws a shoulder into Bobby’s abdomen, backing him into the ring apron!
Kline rears back and throws another shoulder into Bobby!
Bobby clubs Kline with a double axe handle!
Kline with another shoulder!
Bobby with another double axe handle!
Kline stands, and goes nose to nose with Bobby!
Bobby bites Kline's nose!
JC: Christ, Bobby’s gone feral!
BG: Well I think we know that isn't all his blood on him!
Kline instinctively knees Bobby in the groin!
Bobby releases his bite, and plops to the ground.
Kline reaches under the ring, and is overjoyed when he pulls a kendo stick from within.
Kline rears back and brings the kendo stick down on Bourbon!
Kline drops down, pinning Bobby on the floor!
1…
2…
Bobby barely kicks out!
Kline stands and starts driving boots into Bobby, before bringing him up to his feet.
Kline with a measured punch to Bobby’s skull.
Kline again winds a hand up, but Bobby catches it!
Bobby throws a right at Kline!
Both men brawl their way towards the entrance!
Kline with a big knee lift to Bobby, doubling him over!
Kline sets Bobby up to be lifted for a powerbomb.
JC: This one could be over, Brody!
BG: How often do you see Bobby Bourbon get muscled around like this?
Kline hoists Bobby up…
CRIMSON DAWN!
Bobby’s back splatters on the stiff metal stage.
Kline holds the legs for the pinfall.
1…
2…
2.9…
AND COMING FROM THE TOP OF THE XTRON WITH A DIVE IS AURORA!
The pin is broken up at the last minute as Aurora lands, leaving all three competitors laid out on the entrance ramp!
JC: AURORA JUST TOOK TO THE AIR!
BG: This match can't get any wilder, JC, this is what the Xtreme Championship means!
Aurora crawls to the entrance, and uses it to brace herself as she tries to stand.
Kline rolls onto his side, limp after the massive leap.
Bobby is prone on the floor.
Aurora is to her feet, looking over at both Bobby and Kline.
Kline is slowly getting to his feet.
Aurora waves from the back!
Kline steels himself, unsure of how many members of the Black Rainbow might be on their way out!
JC: Here it comes, Brody, Aurora is going to bring the Black Rainbow into this!
BG: You hate to see it, Jackie.
Black smoke pours from the entrance.
Aurora leans back, expecting her Messenger to arrive.
The smoke dies down, and we see the riot has spilled backstage!
XWF superstars are brawling with the wild Sturgis crowd, sending them back to their seats!
Kline stalks Aurora, who steps away from the entrance and walks towards him!
Kline loads up a big clothesline, but Aurora slides, and takes Kline down with a leg tackle!
Aurora pivots, and sets in an Anaconda Vice!
JC: Aurora is changing up her game, trying to get the Xtreme Champion to submit!
BG: What a surprise tactic!
The referee checks the hold, and in on Kline!
Kline's hand wavers as he experiences the agony of the hold!
Suddenly it's broken up by Bobby Bourbon, diving in desperation!
Bobby kneels, surveying Kline and Aurora.
Kline grips his neck, relieved to be out of the Anaconda Vice!
Aurora backs away.
Bobby brings himself to his feet, and brings Kline up, whom he plants with a spinebuster!
Aurora rushes at Bobby, and he catches her with a spinebuster!
Another crazed fan jumps the barricade, and Bobby plants them with a spinebuster!
Kline back to his feet, and he turns into Bobby, who lands yet another spinebuster!
JC: Spinebuster City!
BG: Vintage Bobby here!
Bobby, still caked in blood, picks Aurora up, but she counters with an inside cradle!
1…
2…
Bobby kicks out!
Aurora to her feet, keeping Bobby in a head hold!
Aurora sets up for the Aurora Destroyer!
Kline with a huge dropkick out of nowhere to Aurora, backing her away!
Kline plants Bobby's head between his thighs, setting for another Crimson Dawn!
NO!
Bobby back body drops Kline over the barricade and into the crowd!
The crowd is still pitched in a full scale riot!
Bobby watches as Kline disappears into the rioting crowd.
JC: Solomon Kline seems to be lost, involved in this huge brawl!
BG: I really hope it dies down by the next match!
Bobby wearily turns around, and sees Aurora struggling to get back to her feet.
Bobby approaches her, and kicks her in the gut!
Bobby hoists Aurora up…
BOBBYBOMB ONTO THE ENTRANCE STAGE!
Bobby goes for the cover!
1…
2…
3!
WINNER, AND NEW XTREME CHAMPION
BOBBY BOURBON
JC: What a way to kick off the action tonight in Sturgis!
BG: Beautiful Bobby Bourbon is the new Xtreme Champion!
JC: Indeed he is, Brody!
BG: Kline had a nice run though, no doubt he’ll be back in a title picture before long!
The camera opens up backstage on the withered face of Steve Sayors. Wasting no time, Sayors jumps straight in:
Steve Sayors: “Joining me now… The King of the XWF… King Kieran.:
The camera pans across to Sayors left where King Kieran stands—his face looking extra punchable.
King Kieran: “LONG LIVE THE KING!”
King’s proud exclamation gets absolutely zero response from anybody in the nearby vicinity, except perhaps Sayors himself who gazes at the king like a lost puppy. But that's also his default look, so maybe it doesn't count.
Steve Sayors: “Your Majesty, Leap of Faith has come and gone and you once again found yourself on the receiving end of an attack from the Black Rainbow, this time with Aurora joining them as the Dreamweaver that The Messenger—whom you asked to fight—had heralded. How are you fe–”
King holds up a finger to Sayors’ lips.
King Kieran: “Hush now, sweet Steven. If any of you were surprised at Aurora showing her yellow belly like that, then that speaks volumes about you and not about me. Once again, YOUR KING put his body on the line to EXPOSE the threats to this fine company. You should be thanking me for making it clear who the real villains are. But alas! The horrid villainy of this place runs deeper than woven dreams and darkly coloured meteorological phenomena. Tonight, I turn Sebastian Everett-Bryce inside out and remind everyone just WHO THE FUCK I AM. But he's just the first. I'm not here to talk about the Black Rainbow, Steve. I'm here to talk about this…”
From off screen, King pulls the crown of the XWF into view—the very one that has not left his possession for over sixteen months now.
King Kieran: “This crown means something, Steve. This crown means that I have THE LONGEST CONTINUOUS REIGN OF ANY ACCOLADE IN XWF HISTORY. Unless of course you count me being the last X-Mas X-Treme tournament winner—fifteen years and counting! But I'm not just the greatest tournament performer in XWF history. I am the goddamn king of this place! I am THE definition of the greatest wrestler going. SEB who? Isaiah who? DOLLY FUCKING WATERS WHO?”
Steve Sayors: “Did you… did you hear what Dolly had to say at the start of the show?”
King Kieran: “I was right there Steve! Of course I heard it! She thinks this place needs change? I SAID THAT FOUR MONTHS AGO. I stepped out into the middle of the ring, fresh off YET AGAIN doing EXACTLY what I said I'd do by retaining my crown—a promise the likes of which Dolly has NEVER been able to keep—and I put everyone here on notice. I told everyone that if they didn't step their game up that I would come in and I wouldn't WEAVE any dreams. I'd CRUSH THEM. Dolly thinks she's part of the solution. I say, she is an expression of the exact problem that I spoke about four months ago. This year, we've gone from SEB, to Isaiah, to Shark, to Nickles, to Dolly… where the fuck does it stop? I'll tell you.
It stops here.
It stops with me.
Bitches and gentlefucks, by DIVINE RIGHT and the power vested in me as YOUR KING, I hearby declare that the main event of Night Three of Relentless will be KING KIERAN DEFEATING DOLLY WATERS FOR THE UNIVERSAL CHAMPIONSHIP.”
A slow, deliberate clap echoes from offscreen.
CLAP. CLAP. CLAP.
Charlie Nickles steps into frame, flanked by The Grok on his left and Matthias Syn on his right. All three are decked out in all-black suits with red pocket squares- except for Charlie, who’s pocket square is green. Neither Syn nor The Grok says a word, they just stare silently in Kieran’s direction while Charlie steps forward.
Charlie Nickles: “Wow. What a speech! Truly inspiring stuff, Kieran. And Steve? Steve, buddy...”
Sayors stiffens immediately as the Acting General Manager puts a heavy hand on his shoulder. Then, Syn steps just a little too close, invading Steve’s personal space
Charlie Nickles: “Steve, you do realize you’re standing backstage, on MY program, sticking a live mic in the face of a man who hasn’t held championship gold in years... right?”
Charlie, Grok, and Syn surround Steve Sayors.
Charlie Nickles: “You don’t get to decide who’s worth airtime. That’s my decision now. You want to keep your job, Steve? Maybe next time, you ask for clearance before you start interviewing the enhancement talent!”
Charlie turns back to King Kieran, while Grok and Syn inch forward just enough to make it clear they’re threatening Kieran.
Charlie Nickles: “And you…”
The Acting General Manager gestures casually, as if Kieran’s barely even worth his time.
Charlie Nickles: “You’ve spent the last sixteen months walkin’ around with a Burger King crown on your head, screamin’ about ‘Divine Right’, making empty speeches while letting The Rainbow Warriors whip you black and blue all over!”
Charlie flicks his hand in the air dismissively.
Charlie Nickles: “You couldn't even keep the Hot Topic kids in check. You didn’t expose them. You just got played by them. Meanwhile? I ran Gorgo outta’ the fucking company. I put Enigma on a milk carton! I didn’t write a fancy speech about it, Kieran: I just handled business.”
Charlie steps in closer to Kieran, flanked on either side by The Grok and Matthias Syn. Grok adjusts his cufflinks. Syn cracks his knuckles without breaking eye contact with Kieran.
Charlie Nickles: “You wanna call shots in -MY- company? You better get in line: behind every name you rattled off like some deranged fanboy.”
Charlie tilts his head to the side, looking Kieran up and down with ill-intent.
Charlie Nickles: “You can keep playin’ “King” if it helps you sleep at night. But remember this, Kieran: one day soon you’re gonna wake up and realize you’re not wearing a crown….
You’re just wearing a target.”
King Kieran: “I mean… no shit. That's why everyone wants a piece of me. But nobody gives a fuck about going after you.”
King shoulder bumps past Nickles and both Syn and Grok look to go after him but Nickles shakes his head no.
Charlie Nickles: “I've got a better idea, boys…”
JC: Folks, our ring crew had to scramble together to reset the ring after a full-on riot broke out in our opener…
BG: And somehow, I’ve got a gut feeling this match could take all that damage they fixed and wreck it even worse!
The lights in the arena fade slowly to black. The opening tones of "I Would Die 4 U" by Prince and The Revolution blast from the PA, sending the crowd to their feet. They scream out the lyrics as Corey Black emerges from the back, walking out onto the stage with intent, bathed in a white light while purple ones circle the arena. He is wearing a hooded dark denim vest that has metal band patches all over it and a large Pantheon logo back patch. Corey stands at the top of the ramp, looking out into the frenzy of dancing and singing attendees, nodding his approval.
JC: Corey Black! King of the Deathmatch! The King of the Wrestlers! One of the most absolutely dominant competitors in the wrestling industry!
BG: And no fan of Charlie Nickles! Corey Black declared himself better than this company! He called Charlie Nickles a cheap knockoff!
JC: Fighting words, Brody! But fighting words flow from the mouth of a man who loves to fight! And Corey Black? LOVES to fight!
He makes his way down the ramp, taking his time to survey the landscape around him and get himself a good look at the ring before him. As he reaches it, Corey slides in under the bottom rope and pops to his feet, unleashing a roar and throwing the devil horns into the air toward the hard cam. He takes the vest off and drops it to ringside before heading to his corner and crouching down, waiting for the match to begin.
…
Bullet With a Point begins to blare over the loudspeakers as CHARLIE NICKLES makes his way out from the back. The Savior of the XWF flashes a shit-eating grin at the audience members, tapping the gold for all to take notice.
BG: Speaking of men who love to fight… Charlie Nickles! The Universal champion! The Corporate Savior of the XWF!
JC: Former Universal champion, you mean, Brody! He did come just inches short against Dolly Waters… even while he stacked the deck in his favor with malfeasance and interference!
BG: Oh whatever! You see Dolly Waters competing tonight? No! Charlie Nickles was out here every week with Big Gold! And even after taking a licking, he’s out here defending the XWF! THAT’S a real champion there!
Nickels slides into the ring like a mad dog, alternating between muttering comments to himself and barking threats at the “King of the Wreslters”... Black is wholly unaffected.
The official steps between the two and starts delivering commands to the officials…
JC: Well, this is a dream match! Two men known the world over for their ability to take matches to X-Treme places! However, tonight’s bout is a purely standard rules affair! Both these men will have to conform to the confines o-
”HOLD IT!!”
From the top of the ramp, there’s some kerfuffle with the curtain at the top of the X-Tron!
”J-just wait a second!”
Finally, the curtains are parted… XWF Warfare General Manager Peter Principle is wheeled out in his wheelchair by his assistant Nadine.
JC: Oh God… I thought we’d seen the last of Peter Principle now that Thad had returned.
BG: Peter seems to still have some power for now… Which means Charlie might have a trick or two up his sleeve as… “Acting Warfare General Manager”...
Nadine lifts a microphone up to her lips.
”Check one, two… Check, check…” Nadine raises a thumb to the crowd of bikers, which she tilts up and down. ”Good? No good?”
JC: GET ON WITH IT!
Nadine clears her throat, before retrieving a sheet of paper…
”By order of our Warfare General Manager, Peter Principle… This match’s stipulation has just been updat-... er, Up-GRADED!” Nadine reads…
”Charlie Nickles - vs - Corey Black is now…”
“X-TREME RULES! NO DISQUALIFICATIONS!”
The crowd goes from a 9 on the 1-to-10 excitement scale to a 15-and-three-quarters!
JC: Oh my God! Charlies Nickles AND Corey Black! No disqualifications!
BG: Is this real? Is this official?!?
Charlie Nickles
- vs -
Corey Black NO DISQUALIFICATIONS
JC: It’s on the graphic! Looks official to me!
The official blinks, flustered at the last minute change, before going to the competitors… Instructing them to forget what he just said. He starts over, this time with his X-Treme rules spiel. First, w-
WHAM! Charlie suddenly delivers an uppercut straight under Black’s jaw! Black gets rocked back to his corner!
DING DING!
JC: A dirty shot by Charlie Nickles to start off this match!
Black looks dazed in the corner, as Charlie reaches into the pockets of his sweatpants… Retrieving… Barbed wire!
The crowd is going nuts for this unexpected foray into X-Treme violence!
BG: Barbed wire! Charlie Nickles has barbed wire!
JC: Almost like he KNEW this match was going to have a last minute stipulation update!
BG: UpGRADE, Jacko! Get your words right!
JC: Nickles clearly abusing the power he has as Principle’s chosen one to manipulate things in his favor!
Nickels wraps the barbed wire tight around his fist… Black shakes his head, clearing cobwebs from that surprise strike…
Nickels jogs across the ring… Going for a diving punch-splash to the cornered Black!
…
But Black rolls under!
JC: Surprisingly agile somersault dodge from the King of the Wrestlers!
Nickles’ fist collides with the turnbuckle! He grins with a maniacal fire in his eyes! He goes to spring off the middle rope, like a puma leaping onto its prey…
…
…Wait! His fist, covered in barbed wire… It’s embedded in the mesh of the turnbuckle!
JC: Oh wow! Miscalculation by the Nickleman! The former Universal Champion is in serious trouble!
Black spins around, ready to fend off more offense… As he spots Nickles struggling with all his might to rip his fist off the turnbuckle!
It’s Black’s turn to grin with sadistic glee… He sprints across the ring!
Nickles pulls and pulls to free himself…
BG: It’s no good! Charlie’s stuck on the tracks!
JC: And a runaway freight train named Corey Black is headed straight for him!
YAKUZA KICK!
Charlie get K-N-O-C-K-E-D!
Nickles goes sprawling up and over the top rope!
And that finally knocks his hand free as he drops to the padded concrete outside the ring!
JC: I think Charlie might have miscalculated here, in more ways than one! He thought that X-Treme Rules would give him an advantage… But he’s in there with the “King of the Deathmatch” Corey Black!
BG: How many different ways is Black a King? All I know is I didn’t vote for him!
Black scans around for weapons, trying to adapt to the sudden shift to X-Treme Rules… Before seeing the crowd! Many, MANY hands of bikers are up in the air, those in the front row are hanging over the barrier, offering chains and tire irons to the King of the Deathmatch!
JC: Oh shit! This crowd came prepared to SCRAP!
BG: We had a full-blown riot break out in our opener! It looks like this crowd is ready to watch other people wreak horrifying violence on each other…
Black’s eyes spark as he slides under the bottom rope… He snags a pair of tire irons from the crowd…
On the other side of the ring, Charlie is regaining his senses, squeezing his fist, his knuckles running red with blood as the barbed wire digs into his flesh…
Black zips around the ring as Nickles spots Black circling the ring for him… And shoves the apron to start walking… in the opposite direction!
JC: Nickles trying to get the hell outta dodge!
BG: But Corey Black is on the warpath!
Indeed, Black smacks one of his two tire irons against the mat like the smacking of a war drum as he quickly steps, closing the distance between himself and the Nickleman…
Charlie palms his way to the apron, pawing to the steel steps beside the ring…
Black is in hot pursuit…
When Nickles picks up the steps and hucks them toward his charging opponent!
JC; Oh my! The strength of Charlie Nickles! Hucking that like a garbage man!
Black suddenly sees a mass of black steel heading straight for his forehead!
…
HE SIDESTEPS! The stairs clatter loudly behind Black as they smash against concrete and skid to a halt!
JC: Phew! The reflexes on Corey Black save him from a knockout blow… And possible reconstructive surgery to his face!
Black looks back, evaluating the heap of metal that almost took off his skull… He spins back aro-
WHAM! A fist full of barbed wire collides with Black’s skull!
JC: Oh GOD, what a haymaker!
BG: I don’t think you could have bloodier punch! Black is missing a chunk of his forehead after that strike!
A deep gash bleeds like a fountain over Corey Black’s eyes as he backpedals defensively into the apron, dropping the tire iron in his left hand…
Charlie cackles in relief as he picks up the tire iron Corey just dropped…
JC: Oh no… that sadist wants to break Corey completely, bit by bit, until nothing is left of the King of the Wrestlers!
Charlie winds up over his head, looking for a finishing bl-
WHAM! In a sudden desperation swing, Black catches Charlie with a tire iron to the gut!
Nickles doubles over, cradling his ribs, like he’s about to be sick all over the outside…
JC: It feels like the match just started but every single one of these shots could be a knockout blow!
BG: These two men have spent their entire careers exploring the thresholds of the pain that the human body is capable of enduring! Add in the fact that these two men despise each other… And both these two would be willing to crawl through HELL if it meant putting the other man down for a three-count!
Black breathes a sigh of relief, blood streaming down his skull as he grabs the doubled-over Nickles by the scalp and drags him toward the metal pole outside the ring… Laying Charlie’s skull against the cold steel…
JC: Oh my god… Corey Black is about to cave in Nickles’s skull like an eighteen-wheeler driving over a watermelon!
BG: I haven’t seen that one, don’t tell me how it ends!
Charlie cradles his gut… Devoting his energy to regaining his breath… Immobile…
As Corey backs up toward the barricade, bikers reaching over to pat Black on the back…
Black charges!
PENALTY KICK AGAINST THE POLE!
…
MISSES! Charlie shoves himself off the pole and to the padded concrete! Black’s boot fully dents the pole, which bends outwards at an angle!
JC: Holy sh-...wow! Black’s kick just completely busted the turnbuckle!
Black brings his boot back to the ground, spinning towards Charlie, who’s up to one knee…
Black scoops an arm around Charlie’s throat, looking for a T-Bone sup-
BUT CHARLIE WHIPS BLACK OFF HIS FEET!
And spins him toward the barricade!
SPINEBUSTER SLAM ONTO THE METAL RAILING!
JC: oooooooooof, FUCK, that has to suck!
BG: You ain’t kiddin’, Jacko! Black’s gonna want a careful accountin’ of all his vertebrae after that UGLY slam!
Black crumples like a heap onto the outside… His chest heaving like his spine might be broken after that one…
Nickles barely gathers the wherewithal to breath again… Before crawling on his stomach, using just his right arm… To drape it over Black’s shoulders!
JC: No disqualifications! Falls count anywhere! Could this be it?
The official, who with the stipulation change, has remained inside the ring, keeping as far away from this insane X-Treme action as possible, finally has no choice but to go toward the danger! He slides under the bottom rope and drops to count!
1!
2!
THR-NOOOOOOOOOO!
Black FORCES a shoulder off the padded concrete!
JC: Wow! Where on EARTH did Corey Black find the strength to keep going after that one?!?
Charlie is shoved back into a seated position from Black’s authoritative kickout! The Nickleman immediately starts barking at the official, demanding to know why he was out of position and if he wants to count to three on the unemployment line!
JC: Charlie Nickles, abusing his power as always!
The official tries to point to the XWF logo on his shirt to assert his authori-WHAM! In an instant, Charlie bowls over the rules-man on his ass, before sliding back into the ring!
JC: Charlie Nickles finally bringing this match back inside the squared circle! We might finally see something resembling a wrestling match out here!
BG: I wouldn’t count on it!
Black exhaustedly scoops himself off the padded concrete… His eyes blinded by the blood running down his skull… He wipes his face dry… Only for the blood to immediately replace it!
JC: Charlie’s punch is causing a geyser of blood to run straight into Black’s eyes! Black’s gotta figure something out!
…Black wipes his face clean… And sees a biker in the front row extend a bandana…
Black grabs it, nodding… And wraps it around his scalp, blocking the flow of blood!
The crowd goes wild!
BG: Don’t know what the hell is wrong with Sturgis’ biker population, but they seem to be all-in on Corey Black!
JC: I think some of them sense a kindred spirit! And others don’t like that Nickles stacked the deck in his favor!
Back inside the ring, Nickles reaches under the middle turnbuckle in his corner… And retrieves… A pouch!
JC: Another trick up Nickles’s sleeve hidden in the environment! Again, one might suspect he knew about this ‘last-minute’ stipulation ‘upgrade’ the whole time!
BG: That’s just how game a competitor he is, Jacko! Always have a backup plan in case things get X-TREME!
JC: An absolutely preposterous statement, Brody!
Charlie opens the pouch and begins pouring out onto the mat of the ring… THUMBTACKS!
JC: OF COURSE! Charlie made absolutely HORRIFYING work of those thumbtacks against ‘Micheal Graves’ several weeks ago on Anarchy!
BG: …Those aren’t the EXACT same thumbtacks that went into ‘Graves’’s skin, though, right? That would… ugggh, on second thought, don’t tell me, Jackie boy…
A sudden little pool of thumbtacks gets poured out on the mat… As Black finally rolls under the bottom rope back toward the action!
BG: Uh oh! Charlie’s still setting up his thumbtacks… Does he see Black coming from behind?!?
Charlie finishes pouring on his mountain of thumbtacks…
Just as Black scoops his arms from behind!
Full Nelson Face-Bu-...NO!
Nickles manages to wring an arm out of Black’s grip and drive an elbow into Black’s gut! Black staggers back against the ropes!
BG: Phew, close call for the Nickleman! He almost ate a face full of thumbtacks!
JC: I don’t know if phew is the right expression, given that just means Black is in TROUBLE!
Nickles peels Black off the ropes and plants a BOOT in his gut! Black doubles over onto his knees…
As Charlie pulls Black up by his belt… Into piledriver position!
JC: Oh MY GOD! Black is about to get DUNKED into those thumbtacks!
Nickles tries to step backwards, over the thumbtacks, to maximize the surface area of Corey’s face that’s getting STABB-
…Suddenly, Corey shifts his weight! And his legs come back down to the mat!
JC: Oh thank god… Black manages to avoid the piledriver!
Nickles slams his fists against Black’s back! Axe Handle! Axe Handle!
Black drops to his knees again, looking battered as Nickles cranks his neck, calling for a piledriver!
JC: Oh God, I can’t look…
Nickles goes to liiiiiiiiii-
IN a sudden swoop of a back strength, Black lifts Nickles off his feet! Black spins!
BACK BODY DROP!
ONTO THE THUMBTACKS!
Nickles IMMEDIATELY pops off the mat, cradling his back, which looks like a PINCUSHION! The back of his shirt is almost immediately SOAKED in red!
The crowd goes absolutely nuts!
JC: Oh God! Oh please let that be it… I can’t take any more of this…
BG: It could be! If Black could make the cover!
Black… the spot on the mat where his head lay, starting to pool red as his bandana is soaked with blood… Crawls slowly across the ring where the Nickleman is in shock…
Black shoves the former Universal champion back against the thumbtacks! Nickles’ eyes widen as thumbtacks are EMBEDDED into his back!
Black hooks the leg!
1!
2!
THRE-NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
How the FUCK did Charlie Nickles kick out of that one?!?
BG: Possible miscalculation by Corey Black there! Nickles was in a state of paralysis via shock… And I think that second batch of thumbtacks might’ve rebooted his nervous system and gave him the wherewithal to kick out!
JC: Oh god, no, please… No more!
BG: Be a man, Jacko! This kinda programming is good for ya!
Black collapses onto his back, looking like he’s been through hell itself…
Meanwhile, Charlie… using the last of his strength…
Crawls under the bottom rope and out of the ring!
JC: Is Charlie high-tailing it for the back?!?
BG: This is a strategic retreat, Jacko! Charlie needs to recovery time to peel out some of those thumbtacks… And re-assess his next attack!
Charlie clumsily plods under the ropes, collapsing onto his front on the padded concrete… He works arm–over-arm toward the ramp…
Black pulls himself up exhaustedly to a seated position by the bottom rope, before dropping and rolling to the outside…
JC: Just an earlier moment in the match… Charlie is trying to create distance… But Black is in hot pursuit!
Charlie is crawling to the audience barricade… Pulling himself up to his feet slowly…
As Black comes from behind… Grabs him by the scruff of the neck… And hurls him back inside the ring!
JC: Black tired of Nickles’ tricks! He knows wherever Charlie was crawling, another weapon surely lay in wait!
Charlie rolls under the bottom rope… As Black rolls in after him…
JC: This one might be all ov-... Wait, someone’s coming down the ramp! The same direction Charlie Nickles was just headed!
Bursting from behind the curtain under the X-Tron…
It’s…
The Syn City Saint, Matthias Syn!
JC: Matthias Syn just aligned himself with Charlie Nickles!
BG: But whose side is he on? Even the Grok said Syn was only 12% loyal!
Black hears the roar of the crowd as Matthias Syn charges down the ramp… He spins toward the outside, seeing the Syn City Saint coming… And beckons him to hit the ring!
Meanwhile, from behind, Nickles reaches into his sweatpants… Retrieving…
Brass knuckles!?!
BG: One last X-Treme trick up the Nickleman’s sleeve!
Syn hits the bottom of the ramp and rolls under the bottom rope!
Black reels back an elbow!
Syn ducks, running forward!
From behind, Nickles slides on the knuck-
Syn slinks past and takes the knuckles off Nickles’ hand!
BG: What?!?
JC: A double-cross! The Revolutionary just took the last weapon out of the hands of the Corporation’s champion!
Nickles looks at his now-empty hand perplex-
WHAM! Black drops him with a boot to the gut…
Black looks at Syn, not quite sure what to make of it!
Syn barks at him, holding the knuckles, telling Black to finish it!
Black looks at the thumbtacks…
Scoops Nickles into a T-Bone Suplex position!
JC: Oh please, no more thumbtacks!
Syn…
Puts on the knuckles!
Black starts to heave Nickles u-
WHAM! Syn catches Black with a brass knuckles shot to the skull!
The crowd immediately rains down a flood of boos!
JC: A double-double cross! Syn saves Nickles!
…Red pours down over Black’s eyes… His legs are jelly but his body’s too broken to fall…
Charlie shoves himself off the mat!
And scoops Black’s skull under his arm!
DEVIL HOOK DROP ONTO THE THUMBTACKS!
JC: …I’m gonna be sick… I’m gonna… oh goooooooood….
Nickles collapses ontop of Black as Syn shoves the official to the mat ordering him to count!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
WINNER: CHARLIE NICKLES!
BG: What an absolute war! Corey Black proved why he’s called the King of the Deathmatch AND the King of Wrestling! But Charlie Nickles proved why the house always wins! He played the game masterfully, stacked the deck in his favor an-... Hey, Syn’s got a mic!
Corey Black is gasping. Syn has already brutalized him. The microphone is hot, blood drips down Syn’s boot. The crowd is screaming. He lifts the mic like a knife to the throat of the entire industry.
Syn pauses to take in the boo's. What did he care. They were nothing new to him. These aren't fans. They're livestock. Fattened on nostalgia and two counts. Begging to be slaughtered in high definition.
You scream sellout like there was ever something left of me to buy.
You treat this like a morality play. Heel vs face. Good vs evil. You watch wrestling like it's fucking Harry Potter.
"Oh no, he turned to the dark side." Grow up. Read a book. Get hit by a bus.
You want me to feel guilty for picking a side that pays me to kill your idols?
Look at him.Syn points to a lifeless Corey Black. Charlie doesn't move. Doesn't flinch. There's a glint in his eye that isn't shock. It's not hesitation. It's pride. His smile crooked. He watches Syn like you watch a bomb go off after handing someone the detonator.
That's what legacy buys you. A broken fucking neck. A twitching corpse. And a silent crowd full of cowards who were begging him to keep going.
You're not lost, Corey. You're extinct. You're not homeless. You're unwanted. You're not a God. You're the last desperate gasp of a man who knows his story is over but refuses to die.
You taught an entire generation to respect their elders. I teach them to put a bullet in the back of their skulls.
After tonight, Corey. You can run back to your little Minneapolis apartment jerking off to the sound of your own monologue, mistaking exposition for charisma. Thinking ten dollar words cover ten cent insecurities.
"I don't belong here."
That's what he said. That's what the God of Death, the King of Wrestlers, the Ironman himself said right before I turned his neck into a trampoline.
"I don't belong here."
Good. I did you a favor then, Corey. I made sure you don't have to come back.
I don't respect Corey Black. I don't respect any of you. Respect is currency printed by losers. The majority of this roster is Heatless. Gutless. Lifeless. They're cosplaying importance while waiting for permission to matter.
They'll tell you to just be consistent, while they beg to lose to the same four safe names on every goddamned card. They don't want a moment. They want a graphic. These people bleed for screen time and choke for applause. That's not heart. That's hospice.
You wanted a monster. I'll give you a fucking extinction event.
Charlie didn't come to me because he trusts me. He came to be because no one else in this locker room has the balls to burn it down with him.
You'll all ask yourselves, why did Syn take the offer?
Let me make it real simple for the art school dorks in the back who think your arc matters more than your win-loss column.
Because I could.
I saw opportunity. I saw an entire company begging for the villain that it actually deserved. Boo me until your heart stops. I don't give a single fuck. But let's get something fucking straight:
I'm the most honest thing in this company.
That's why I said yes. That's why I took the deal. Now, I can say whatever the fuck I want and no one can stop me.
But Syn, why Corey?
Why not?
Corey Black walked into this company and thought he was above it. Because he thought name value was a substitute for relevance. Because he thought if he said the word Pantheon enough, the ring would lower itself to his knees and beg for him to bless it.
I gutted your favorite nostalgia act on national television like a pig at MAGA luau. Corey Black can now rest peacefully in the grave where his relevance already lives.
They asked me to be a weapon. This isn't an alliance. This isn't a rebrand. This is a hostile fucking takeover. This is scorched earth with corporate sponsors. This is hate with health benefits.
The Corporation isn't here to coexist. We're here to gut this company like a pig and sell it's spine on QVC.
I am the nuclear option. I'm the thing you call when the devil says no. I don't want respect. I don't even want your spotlight. I want your death rattles.
I want your children to ask, Daddy, who was Syn? And I want for you to whisper, The reason wrestling changed forever.
Your last hope died when Nickels shook my hand. And your next one dies when I open my fucking mouth again.
Syn spits on Corey's chest. Drops the mic like a brick. The crowd screams in rage. Syn smiles through the hate.
STATIC
Tatiana Jolee is already in the ring, stretching in her corner in her blackout ring attire with matching boots and pads, hair pulled into a bun. The black leather jacket with the Canadian flag on the back now hangs over the ropes, ready to be collected by the timekeeper.
She rolls her neck once, eyes on the ramp, waiting for the others to arrive.
JC: Tatiana Jolee already in the ring, Brody. The veteran technician with over two decades in the sport.
BG: Yeah, but this isn’t a two-out-of-three falls bout in some Vancouver rec center, Jackie. This is a fifteen-minute sprint with three hungry opponents. She’s walking in outnumbered and outgunned.
JC: You can never count out that kind of experience.
BG: Experience doesn’t mean a thing when you’re the slowest shark in the water.
The lights go out and hear a voice saying "Wrestling has one royal family" and when Kingdom hits, fireworks burst open and Razor Blade comes out wearing an American Nightmare outfit. He lifts his arms into the mid air and fist pumps into the fake air.
JC: And here comes Razor Blade, back on Warfare, and looking fired up.
BG: Fired up doesn’t win you matches, Jack. The heart on your sleeve is just a bigger target to aim for.
JC: You heard him earlier this week, he’s looking forward to mixing it up with all three of his opponents, and he’s not backing down from anyone.
BG: That’s great. But in a match like this, being everyone’s friend usually means you leave empty-handed.
On his way down the ramp, he notices a kid wearing a black shirt and takes the American Nightmare belt off his waist, handing it to the XWF fan. Razor climbs the steps and hops onto the turnbuckle, raising both arms as more fireworks burst. He steps inside the ring, climbs the top rope to taunt some more, then gets down and removes the American Nightmare jacket, eyes locked toward Tatiana.
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.
JC: There’s a man who’s been living in the negative space lately: Dickie Watson.
BG: He’s been living off reputation and muscle memory, Jackie. You heard him, he doesn’t care about loyalty or “home,” he cares about survival.
JC: And in a fifteen-minute number one contender’s match, that mindset could make him dangerous.
BG: Or it could make him reckless. Either way, I expect him to swing hard.
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.
The lights cut to black. Not dramatic—funereal. The crowd’s noise dies without being asked.
Then the static comes: soft at first, like whispers caught in candlelight, then growing louder, deeper—until it crackles into the opening pulse of “Bitches Brew” by †††.
A long, low beat drops. Thick. Diseased. Measured like a heartbeat that’s been slowed by something cruel.
The entrance screen flickers not with pyro—but with a sigil. A glowing ring of violet flame surrounding a single word: “ADVOCATE.”
Then she arrives.
Emilia Glazkov steps into the spotlight, veiled in shadows and dressed like prophecy:
Her cloak billows behind her like torn cathedral drapery, sheer and trailing, carved down the middle to reveal black vinyl beneath.
Her shoulderplates catch the red light, reflecting it in shattered, molten splinters. They look too heavy for most, but she wears them like wings.
Her wide-brimmed hat floats above her like a halo of midnight—its ring of glowing spokes etched with runes that rotate with each step.
Her eyes? Smeared black. Her mouth? Still. Her presence? Sacrament.
She walks without rushing. Not with confidence—with inevitability. Every motion says: you are not watching me enter. You are watching me arrive.
She reaches the foot of the ramp.
Stops.
Raises both arms—not to the crowd, but to the ceiling, the lights, the unseen.
She tilts her head back, whispers something, and flicks her fingers as if casting it away.
JC: And here’s the wild card, Brody. Emilia Glazkov, the Advocate of the Black Rainbow.
BG: Wild card? No, Jackie, she’s the loaded gun in this thing. She’s here to “correct” Dickie Watson, burn Tatiana’s legacy, and chew up Razor just for showing up.
JC: You make her sound like a horror movie villain.
BG: That’s because she is, Jack. And she’s walking into this like the match is already hers.
Then she climbs the stairs.
Her boots thud—leather and steel echoing like a funeral drum. The camera closes in on her legs as the cloak parts: fishnet-tight skin, ritual ink glinting along her thigh.
On her left boot, stitched into the leather just above the knee: a crimson rune, pulsing faintly like a warning.
She enters the ring. No theatrics. No spinning. No posing. She moves to the second rope, front and center, and climbs with ease. Then she spreads her arms wide. Head lifted. Eyes closed. Mouth slightly open—like she’s listening for an answer only the dead can give.
The hat’s runes flare once—then burn out, their embers trailing off like stars bleeding into night.
Her cloak flutters down her back. Her chest is bare of armor, only pale skin and painted glyphs across her sternum, right beneath the embroidered word: ADVOCATE.
For a moment, she holds the ring in silence. Then drops from the ropes.
Her boots hit the canvas like judgment.
The cloak slips from her shoulders, caught by a gust no one else feels.
She is revealed beneath: black corset top, exposed stomach, mesh-paneled legs, gauntleted hands with black claws twitching like they miss the altar.
She walks to her corner. Turns. Waits.
Not to be introduced.
Not to be admired.
To be obeyed.
JC: Alright folks, four wrestlers, fifteen minutes, and one golden opportunity. The winner here goes on to challenge Sarah Wolf or Aidan Collins for the Television Championship.
BG: And if you’ve been paying attention this week, Jackie, the talking has been just as heavy as the action’s about to be.
JC: No kidding. Razor Blade making it clear he’s back on Warfare to prove he belongs in the TV Title picture, even giving Emilia Glazkov a little nod of respect in the lead-up.
BG: Yeah, but nod or not, Emilia’s been laser-focused on Dickie Watson. Her promos practically painted him as unfinished business she needs to “correct.”
JC: Meanwhile Dickie… well, he made it clear he doesn’t buy into Emilia’s mystique, doesn’t respect Razor’s “American Nightmare” branding, and sees Tatiana Jolee as the veteran technician who needs to be shut down before she can control the pace.
BG: Which shouldn’t be hard tonight, because based on what we’ve seen from Tatiana lately…
JC: Brody-
BG: I’m just saying, she hasn’t been doing herself any favors. No promo this week, no real fire. If she pulls this off, I’ll be shocked.
Tatiana Jolee
- vs -
Razor
- vs -
Emilia Glazkov
- vs -
Dickie Watson #1 Contender to TV Title
15 Minute Time Limit
DING! DING! DING!
15:00
14:59
14:58
All four competitors surge toward the center of the ring in an instant collision. Dickie Watson meets Emilia Glazkov with a forearm smash that snaps her head to the side, and she answers with a sharp knee strike to his ribs. Razor Blade leaps in from the side with a flying forearm aimed for Emilia, but she sidesteps clean and shoves him toward Tatiana Jolee…
Who gets flattened by Razor’s momentum and sent sprawling to the canvas!
JC: And we’re starting at full speed here, Brody! This is a number one contender match with a fifteen-minute time limit, and no one is wasting a second.
BG: Yeah, especially not Watson or Glazkov. Look at the way they’re already throwing for the fences.
Emilia lashes a backfist across Dickie’s jaw, pivots, and drives a sliding forearm into Razor’s midsection. She pulls him up by the head and plants him with a crisp kneeling snap DDT.
Tatiana tries to recover, pulling herself up on the ropes but Dickie’s already on her, lighting up her chest with open-handed chops before whipping her hard into the far corner.
CRACK! A dropkick to the base of the skull sends Tatiana slumping forward into the turnbuckles.
BG: Tatiana looks like she’s in over her head already, Jackie. No warm-up period here.
JC: You can’t give her space either—Dickie Watson knows it.
Dickie hooks her from behind and launches a tiger suplex, folding Tatiana up on her shoulders. He bridges
ONE!!
TWO
Razor dives in to break it up with a double axe handle to Dickie’s spine!
The crowd pops for the save, and Razor feeds off it, yanking Dickie up and sending him into the ropes. On the rebound, Razor catches him with a snap powerslam, hooks the leg—
ONE!!
TWO
Emilia slides in and stomps Razor across the back of the head to cut him off.
JC: That’s the problem with a fatal fourway—you can hit something picture perfect and it still won’t matter if the third or fourth person is there to break it up.
BG: Yeah, and Emilia’s not about to let this turn into Razor’s highlight reel.
Emilia pulls Razor to his feet and drills him with a spinning back elbow that staggers him against the ropes. She follows with a running knee lift, then whips him across the ring
But Razor reverses and pops her up into the air! She lands on her feet, spins, and thwack… a double wrist-clutch knee strike to Razor’s chest drops him flat!
Tatiana staggers back into view, holding her neck. Emilia sees her, moves in, and hooks a bridging Fujiwara armbar! Tatiana screams, scrambling toward the ropes, but there’s no break in a fourway.
Dickie boots Emilia in the ribs to break the hold, then yanks her up for a Michinoku Driver, planting her hard in the center of the ring. He covers…
ONE!!
TWO-
Tatiana drags him off and tries to roll him up with a schoolboy!
ONE!!
TWO-
Dickie kicks out hard, sending Tatiana tumbling through the ropes to the floor.
JC: Tatiana trying to steal it there, but she’s not going to catch Watson sleeping that easily.
BG: She should probably just stay out there for a while, Jack. Save herself the embarrassment.
Inside, Dickie squares up with Emilia again. They trade forearms, each strike sharper and louder than the last, the crowd reacting to every hit. Emilia ducks one and catches Dickie with a float-over neckbreaker.
She rolls into a quick standing moonsault double knees across his ribs and hooks the leg
ONE!!
TWO
TH-
Razor crashes in with a moonsault of his own onto both of them! The crowd roars, Razor firing up and pointing out to the fans.
He whips Emilia to the corner, follows with a running bulldog, then pops to the second rope and nails a diving knee drop to Dickie’s head as he’s trying to get up.
JC: Razor Blade with a rare string of offense here, really feeding off this Sturgis crowd!
BG: Yeah, but let’s see how long it lasts before somebody snuffs it out.
Razor pulls Dickie up and hooks for the Blade Rose…
But Emilia yanks him backward by the waist and spikes him with a snap uranage! She transitions immediately into a mounted elbow barrage, hammering away until Dickie drags her off by the ankle.
Dickie shoves Emilia back into the ropes and leaps… hurricanrana! He whips her across the mat, then kips up into a dropkick that sends her rolling to the apron.
Tatiana slides back in, catching Dickie from behind with a reverse atomic drop, then plants him with a DDT. She covers
ONE!!
TWO-
Dickie powers out.
8:12
8:11
8:10
JC: We’re just over the halfway mark and the pace hasn’t slowed a bit.
BG: No, but you can see who’s wearing it. Tatiana looks winded, Razor’s already on defense most of the time, and Emilia and Dickie are still sharp.
Tatiana tries to keep pressure on Dickie with a teardrop suplex, but he lands on his feet behind her and blasts her in the back of the head with a corkscrew roundhouse kick.
Razor rushes in, but Dickie catches him with a boot to the gut and plants him with a double knee gutbuster.
Emilia slides back in and blindsides Dickie with the Hollow Kiss… forehead to sternum headbutt into a spinning back elbow! Dickie collapses to a knee, and Emilia hooks him for the Pale Communion!
But Razor yanks her out of position and throws her through the ropes to the floor!
JC: Razor just saved Dickie Watson, maybe without meaning to.
BG: Or maybe he wants to be the one to beat him. Pride’s a funny thing in matches like this.
Razor covers Dickie
ONE!!
TWO
Dickie kicks out at two and a half.
Razor slaps the mat in frustration, pulls Dickie up, and whips him to the corner. He charges but Dickie slips out through the ropes, springboards back in. Springboard tornado DDT plants Razor on his head!
The crowd gasps, Dickie covering
ONE!!
TWO
THR-
Tatiana dives in at the last second to break it up!
Tatiana grabs Dickie by the hair and slams him face-first into the mat. She mounts him, raining down measured punches to the head before shifting into a crossface. Dickie grits his teeth, trying to roll her off, but she wrenches back hard.
JC: That’s the veteran in Tatiana Jolee—slowing things down, making Watson carry her weight while cranking that neck.
BG: It’s about the only way she’s going to keep him down.
Before Dickie can power free, Emilia slides in and stomps Tatiana in the back of the head to break the hold. She hauls Tatiana up, hooks the arm, and spikes her with a crisp snap suplex. Rolling through, Emilia floats over into a kneebar, twisting hard.
Tatiana screams, clawing toward the ropes.
Razor scrambles in and punts Emilia in the ribs, forcing her to release. He pulls her up, whips her to the ropes but Emilia ducks the clothesline and rebounds, only for Razor to catch her mid-run with the Beautiful Disaster kick! The crowd pops, Razor covering!
ONE!!
TWO!!
Dickie drags him off by the ankle.
BG: Razor almost stole that one!
JC: But “almost” doesn’t get you a shot at the Television Championship, Brody.
Dickie boots Razor in the midsection and plants him with the Millennial Fallout bridging German suplex!
ONE!!
TWO!!
Emilia dives to break it up!
She immediately pulls Dickie up, catching him under the chin with a stiff forearm before hoisting him up… running bicycle knee, the Moonmilk Kiss! Dickie crashes to the mat, Emilia covering:
ONE!!
TWO!!
THRE-NO!
Tatiana barrels into them both to break the count!
All four are down for a moment, the crowd buzzing.
3:44
3:43
3:42
Tatiana gets to her knees first, grabbing Emilia in a side headlock and dragging her toward the ropes. She uses the middle strand for a rope-assisted bulldog, planting Emilia face-first into the mat.
Razor charges Tatiana, but she sidesteps and sends him crashing shoulder-first into the ring post. She rolls him up from behind-
ONE!!
TWO!!
Razor kicks out!
JC: Tatiana’s not known for flash, but she’s making every pin attempt count.
BG: She just hasn’t hit anything big enough to keep someone down yet.
Tatiana turns around and walks right into a corkscrew plancha from Dickie that sends both of them tumbling.
Dickie rolls her back in, climbs the turnbuckles, and nails the Echelon 360 corkscrew moonsault!
ONE!!
TWO!!
Tatiana kicks out at the last second!
1:12
1:11
1:10
Dickie shakes his head, pulls her up, and hooks for Dickie’s Revenge but Razor yanks him away and plants him with the Blade Rose! Razor covers!
ONE!!
TWO!!
NO!!
Emilia breaks it up with a sliding forearm to the back of Razor’s head!
She shoves Razor out under the bottom rope, turns and eats a superkick from Dickie!
Emilia spills to the floor.
Dickie spins back toward Tatiana, who’s groggy but on her feet. He catches her around the waist, lifts… modified lifting reverse STO, Dickie’s Revenge!!! planting her face-first into the mat!
He rolls her over, hooks the leg! Cover!
ONE!!
TWO!!
THREE!!
DING! DING! DING!
WINNER AND NEW NUMBER ONE CONTENDER TO THE TELEVISION CHAMPIONSHIP: DICKIE WATSON!
JC: Dickie Watson survives the chaos and pins Tatiana Jolee to punch his ticket to a shot at the Television Champ!
BG: Survives is the key word, Jack. Emilia was all over him, Razor had his moments, and Tatiana…well, she didn’t. But Watson found the opening and put her away.
JC: He’s been here before, Brody, but something tells me this time it’s personal. Sarah Wolf, or Adian Collins, whoever is the Champion at the time has got a challenge coming their way.
JC: Next up, we find out who Dickie Watson will be challenging for that TV Title.
Aidan ‘Blizzard’ Collins or the current champion, Sarah Wolf!
BG: Oh boy, this is one I’m looking forward to here Jack. And I’ve gotta say, I don’t have the slightest clue who might win this match.
JC: Aidan Collins is a bonafide legend in the XWF. A man who dominated this business in the early two-thousands, a former Universal Champion, and the very man who brought the TV Championship to the XWF. He was just inches away from winning that 24/7 case at Leap of Faith, and tonight, he rolls into Sturgis looking to silence any doubters of his abilities.
BG: Inches away from winning that case, indeed! Blizzard knows exactly where he went wrong in that match. He held back with the Ice Pick on SEB. He told the world that he’s not going to make that same mistake tonight.
JC: Well, he won’t be able to make any mistakes out there, because love her, or hate her, he’s facing a woman in Sarah Wolf who knows exactly how to capitalize on those mistakes. Sarah Wolf walked into Leap of Faith challenging against someone who seemed to be unbeatable with the TV title in Lucy Wylde. But in the end it was Sarah Wolf proving to everyone that she might be irreplacable having just left the Black Rainbow!
The opening guitar riff the Deftones’ “Kimdracula” hits the arena speakers as multicolored lights pour over the crowd. The lights slowly rotate color in a mesmerizing, psychedelic fashion as the camera pans over the excited crowd. They stand and cheer, partially excited to be on television but also excited because they know that this music signifies that they’re about to be in the presence of an XWF Legend.
Our view shifts to the entrance walkway, which is now blocked by a large pane of glass. On the glass, a name is painted:
AIDAN COLLINS
The viewer only has a moment to take in the glass before the glass explodes towards the camera as a foot kicks through and explodes the whole display!
The crowd erupts in a huge pop. Aidan Collins is here!
Aidan Collins–wearing navy blue trunks and boots adorned with his Infinity Crown logo in gold–takes a second to pose towards the camera before he winks and walks down towards the ring. As he walks, he high fives the crowd and vocalizes outwardly that he’s about to put on a hell of a show for the audience.
Aidan walks up the ring steps and walks down the apron to the center of the ring. He points out to the crowd before folding his arms in front of himself, giving the crowd ample time to pop off photos with their cell phones.
Aidan enters the ring through the middle rope. He shakes the ring official’s hand, now ready for the contest to begin.
The lights fade out suddenly. As her theme begins. the lights flicker on slowly and steadily, until they maintain a muted version of themselves, which Sarah stands in the middle of the entrance way. The lights follow Sarah as she slowly makes her way to the ring. On either side of her are no hands outreached, no fans trying to gain her attention. Just angry faces and concerned looks. Sarah steps into the ringside area, and moves to the ring area, rolling in, and rolling to her feet. She positions herself in the corner of her choosing, and waits.
The bell rings, and we’re underway in this TV Championship match!
15:00
14:59
14:58
JC: You know, I wonder if the TV title was contested under the 15 minuet time limit rule when Collins brought it to the XWF all of those years ago?
BG: I don’t know, Jack, but I do know one thing, that time limit makes this the ultimate champion's advantage every time it’s defended. Sarah Wolf doesn’t have to defeat Collins here tonight, he has to defeat her!
Collins and Wolf circle one another. There’s no love lost between these two. No hand shakes. Both of them size one another up, looking to tear the other apart when - A RUNNING LARIAT FROM COLLINS BLASTS WOLF!
Blizzard pounces on her, lifting her right back up and dropping the champ with an impressive back suplex.
JC: Collins looks fired up here tonight! He’s ready to avenge that narrow defeat at Leap of Faith.
BG: If the briefcase wasn’t meant to be, then why not the title that he created nearly twenty years ago? Blizzard wants to show the world that he’s stil got it!
He picks Wolf up and whips her into the corner, following behind her and chopping her in the top of the chest. Wolf grimaces through the pain, but grabs Aidan by the head and turns him back into the corner now, scratching his face and opening up wide before biting down on Blizzard’s neck!
The ref runs in and stops her, giving Wolf a stern warning that she’ll be disqualified if that type of behaviour continues.
BG: I don’t think Sarah Wolf cares, Jack! Even if the ref DQs her, she still retains the gold!
Sarah allows her head to be yanked away from the bite, tears some of Collins’ skin in the process, she spits the bit of blood and flesh back in Collins’ face and proceeds to start kicking him in the corner, over and over.
13:37
Collins is pummeled by the kicks and falls down on his rear. Wolf steps back and then charges in, blasting Collins in the face with a running knee. She drags him out of the corner by his legs and begins to lock in a calf-slicer!
But Collins rolls out of the submission attempt, he’s up and hoping on one leg as Sarah still holds on to the other. He makes a jumping kick with his free leg, but it misses. Sarah lets go to avoid contact as Collins falls to the mat. She mounts his back looking to lock in another submission hold, but Collins lifts her up and charges backward. Thrashing Wolf into the corner. Sarah slumps down and now it’s Collins… he backs up and hits a huge running knee to Wolf!
12:04
JC: About three minutes have gone from this championship matchup here, Brody, and I’ve gotta say, I’ve not seen too much separation between these two.
BG: It’s still early, but this one is looking very even so far. But that was to be expected! We all saw their war of X-posts the last couple of weeks, and we all heard the promos they cut on one another. Both Wolf and Collins want to win this match badly. I can see this one going right down to the wire!
Collins yanks Wolf back up by the hair and pulls her to her feet. He lays a shoulder into her chest, locking around the wrist and then whips her back out of the corner with all of his might. He barrels to the opposite corner and smacks chest first before flipping over the top rope to the apron. But Collins grants her no time to recover; he's already running at full speed and goes for a – – – BACKBODY DROP FROM WOLF!!!!
Somehow she’s able to flip him over her shoulder and send the XWF legend crashing out to the floor.
Sarah nearly fell herself, but braces herself by the ropes. She looks down at Collins and leaps off the apron at him, crashing down on him with a type of falling forearm attack.
The ref starts counting
11:11
1!
2!!
3!!!
AND DOESN’T SPOT WOLF CLAWING AT COLLINS’ FACE AGAIN!!!
4!!!!
But despite the pain, Collins puts a knee right in Wolf’s gut, he flips her over and cracks her in the nose with a forearm!
5!!!!!
Wolf’s arms are failing around, trying to reach up and claw Collins face come more, but he’s fending her off. A second smash with the forearm gives him the separation he needs as her head whips off of the floor
6!!!!!!
7!!!!!!!
Collins gets to his feet, but knows he can’t win the TV title on a count out, so he pulls Sarah up by the hair and rolls her back into the ring. He follows behind and looks to start inflicting some real damage.
He pulls her up into a front face lock, sending a knee or two to her sternum for good measure and then…DDT!!!!
Sarah’s skull smashes into the mat!
Collins with the cover!
1!
2!!
KICKOUT BY WOLF!
JC: Collins with a nearfall here early! He weathered an early storm by Wolf and is now in position to take full control of this match
BG: He may have the momentum now, Jackie, but time is ticking away!
9:14
Collins lifts one of Wolf’s legs and kicks her right in the hamstring. He holds the leg in place, steps through going for the figure four, but Wolf kicks him off! She tries scooting back on her rear, but Collins is moving right back in for the attack- BUT SARAH WITH A DROP TOE HOLD!
COLLINS FALLS THROAT FIRST ON THE MIDDLE ROPE!
Wolf seizes her opportunity!
She stands overtop of Collins now, placing her feet on the bottom rope and begins pulling up with all of her might on the middle, strangling Blizzard! The ref steps in again and is forced to break the choke after a 5 count. Wolf turns and sneers at the ref, only to go right back to applying the choke to Collins again. The gives another 5 count, yelling each number louder this time and with more veracity in his tone.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
FOUR!
FIVE - - -??!?!???
The ref grabs Wolf by the arm and yanks her off from Collins. Wolf turns and shoves the ref, but he doesn’t back down and gets right back in her face
JC:I think you might’ve been onto something earlier Brody! It seems like Wolf might be trying to get herself DQed here!
BG: Why wouldn’t she? She can lose, inflict punishment and still keep her title! Sometimes it seems like trying to defend the honorable way is a fool’s errand! Wolf might just be showing us that she’s even more ahead of the curve than we might have suspected!
After dismissing the ref, she turns back to attack Collins again, but this time it’s a kick in the face thats waiting for her from the XWF veteran. He gets to his feet and lifts the heft Wolf up… OLYMPIC SLAM!
Wolf grabs after lower back but still gingerly makes it up to her feet…. BUT NOT FOR LONG
SPRINGBOARD NECKBREAKER!!!!
Wolf is down and Collins pops to his feet- he’s fired up!
7:33
JC: Momentum has shifted in this match once again, and now it’s Blizzard who appears to be in control!
BG: The big MO, baby. It ebbs, it flows! These two are very evenly matched here.
Collins drags Wolf to the proper position on the mat before climbing up the turnbuckle. He looks over his shoulder, and leaps off backwards…
JC: WHAT A PERFECT MOONSAULT!
Collins lands flush on Wolf, her body thrashing under his weight. He hooks the leg!
1!
2!!
KICKOUT!!!
Collins lifts himself up from the pin, with Wolf still lying prone before him and claps his hands, shaking his head, knowing he was just a split second away from taking home the gold. He lifts Sarah up and throws her into the ropes, bending forward for a backdrop, but Wolf counters and kicks him in the chest. Collins turns and stumbles back. He lifts back around, trying to go back on the attack, but Wolf overwhelms him, shoving his head between her legs and planting him on his neck with a pile driver!
She’s slow to get back to her feet, but Collins down and out. Wolf limps over to the turnbuckle and climbs up to the top.
JC: Uh oh… what's Sarah Wolf thinking here?
DEATH. COMES. RIPPING!
The single leg meteora smashes Collins
JC: AGAIN THE TIDES HAVE TURNED. AND NOW SARAH WOLF IS LOOKING TO PUT THIS MATCH AWAY!
She hooks the leg!
1!
2!!
NO!!!!
This time it’s Collins showing great resilience, forcefully kicking out, but still down and damaged on the mat. Wolf screams with frustration, and appears to be seething. She picks Collins up, throws him into the ropes and DEVILLOCK ON THE REBOUND!
SHE HAS THE MANDIBLE CLAW SUBMISSION LOCKED IN!!!!
4:49
JC: That Devillock move is one place no XWF wrestler wants to be in!
BG: She’s got those fingers shoved down Blizzard’s throat, and the way she has her other hand on the back of his head makes this move impossible to lean away from!
Collins is struggling to breath, but still, he leans in! He bites down on her fingers and pushes forward with all of his strength, ramming Wolf into the turnbuckle. Still she has the hold locked in, but Collins wont quit. He bites down even harder, breaking the skin as he raises an open hand up and palms Wolf in the face again, and again and again, until her nose is busted open and she’s forced to let go.
Wolf slides down in the corner and Collins falls back on the mat, gasping for air.
He gathers himself and slowly climbs to his feet. He spots the seated Sarah in the corner and runs at her with another running knee- Wolf’s eyes go wide….
BUT SHE MOVES OUT OF THE WAY OF THE ATTACK!
Collins’ knee slams into the turnbuckle post. Wolf pops up from behind rolling Collins up with a schoolboy!
1!
2!!
Kickout!
Collins pops back to his feet and blasts Wolf with a running lariat!
Wolf is right back up, but gets taken down by another lariat!
She’s up again, but now she eats a bicycle kick and is in a bad way!
Collins hops to his feet and throws his arms out, spinning around the ring for the roaring crowd like a true showman!
JC: He’s survived everything Wolf can throw at him here tonight, Brody, and now Collins is feeling it!
BG: Vintage Collins right here, Jackie! He’s ready to end this!
He picks Wolf up, NORTHERN LIGHTS SUPLEX! … he rolls through… A SECOND NORTHERN LIGHTS SUPLEX!!! …he rolls through again and….
JC: THE THREE WAY!!!
The third suplex thrashes Wolf against the mat, her head whips violently against the canvas… she might be concussed!!!
Collins stands back, and giving himself the full ring… he’s raising his arm… waiting for Wolf to stand…
She staggers up to her feet, her eyes rolled into the back of her head like he’s on another planet… Collins rushes in
BG: Look out! BLIZZARD AINT HOLDING BACK THIS TIME!
ICE PICK!!!!!!!
TO THE REF!!!!!!
JC: Wolf pulled the ref infront of her like a shield!
The three of them spill out to the floor! With the ref receiving the worst of it all!
2:22
Collins stands up, delirious, unsure exactly what happened. He looks down at the ref who is absolutely folded in half. Collins observes the carnage, looking for his opponent and when he finds her…
[white]JC: WOLF’S BLOOD! SHE JUST SPRAYED COLLINS IN THE FACE WITH THAT SINISTER CONCOCTION!
Collins is blinded and gagging. He swings with wild haymakers that miss their target as Wolf is behind him now, pulling up the padding from the arena floor.
She turns Collins around and…
THUD
JC: OH! A sickening piledriver right on the concrete!
Collins is out cold. Wolf rolls him back into the ring and slides in after him…
00:45
And just as she covers him the ref comes to and slides in after them…
1!
2!!
3!!!
WINNER- AND STILL XWF TV CHAMPION- SARAH WOLF
[whtie]JC: What a disgusting display that was, Brody!
BG: Say what you will… Did Sarah Wolf cheat to win? Yes? But who is still walking out of here the TV Champ tonight?
JC: Well, I know one thing is for certain, Aidan Collins put up one hell of a fight here tonight, but Sarah Wolf has proved once again that she’s willing to do whatever it takes not just to win, but to destroy her opponent.
BG: I don’t think Blizzard is destroyed, not by a long shot… but I know his neck is gonna’ be sore after that one[/white]
JC: Partner, this is been one wild ride of a night here in Sturgis. We’ve witnessed riots, title changes, the potential formation of professional wrestling’s first union, and now we’re about to cap this night off with one of the biggest match ups in recent memory.
BG: The King versus The Empire. If you’re looking for big names, big time talent, then you’re not going to find a moment bigger than this one.
JC: Mr. 24/7… one half of the tag team champs… a former two time universal champion, Sebastian Everett-Bryce is taking on none other than the first ever back-to-back King of the XWF, King Kieran himself. A man who might need to be looking over both shoulders tonight.
BG: Has King made some enemies in recent weeks? Yes. But he’s trying to remind his subjects who runs this kingdom. It’s not a cult, it’s not a revolution, it’s not a corporation, and it’s not even an empire. It’s his majesty the King!
JC: Well, thats according to him…I believe every group you’ve named there might have other ideas.
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.
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.
JC: This might not be a title match tonight, Brody, but something even more important feels like it’s on the line.
BG: Titles come and go, Jack, but legacy is ever lasting!
The first, frenetic strums of Faith No More's "Gentle Art of Making Enemies" rips through the arena as strobes of gold and white cast across the stage and crowd. After several moments, and then a few more for good measure, Kieran King eventually saunters onto the stage, smugly mugging for the audience.
JC: There he is… The King of the XWF! Entering the arena here in Sturgis to a chorus of boos!!!
BG: These dumb bikers need to know their place! That man is wrestling royalty!
In a flash, he sprints towards the ring and glides underneath the bottom rope - practically hovering off the mat. Keeping his momentum going, King darts towards the corner post and leaps towards the top. He crouches, and throws his arms up and back as if to backflip off the top... only to pull out at the last minute. He laughs at the crowd, mocking them as he settles in to some pre-fight stretches.
His attention then settles back onto SEB who has been watching him intently. King frowns and rolls out of the ring. He takes a deliberate stroll around the outside, over to the time keepers table where the 24/7 Case and the Tag Championship are resting.
King picks each of them up, frowning at them, he then looks back up to SEB who has his arms up in the ring and shouts at him ‘You bring shame to MY championships, SEB! You don’t deserve these.’ He spits on the face of the tag title, throws it to the ground, and then punts the briefcase. It’s an impressive kick. The briefcase flies over the turnbuckle post and lands on the other part of ringside.
‘Come show me I don’t deserve them then!’
King scowls and does an up-yours with his arms, throwing his forearm into his elbow and flipping SEB the bird.
‘Get him away from the ropes!’ King demands of the ref, ‘Get him away from your KING!’
The ref rolls his eyes and pulls SEB away from the ring ropes. King slides back in and braces himself on the ropes as he slowly stands.
THE REF CALLS FOR THE BELL!
Sebastian Everett-Bryce
- vs -
King Kieran
And King immediately rolls back under the bottom and onto the floor
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!
JC: The fans here in Sturgis are getting antsy, Brody
BG: I think these people forget that the KING of XWF ain’t here to serve them, dammit, they serve him!
SEB plants his hands on his waist, shaking his head as the ref begins to count.[/white]
1!
2!!
3!!!
Meanwhile, on the outside, King has found himself in an argument with a burly looking biker in the audience.
4!!!!
5!!!!!
King snatches a beer out of the biker’s hand and chugs it down, while flipping a middle finger and slowly spinning around, letting the entire arena know his feelings on them.
6!!!!!!
7!!!!!!!
SEB is leaned back in the corner now, looking at the skiing on his wrist as if checking an invisible watch.
8!!!!!!!!!
JC: IT looks like SEB is perfectly content to let King count himself out of this contest.
BG: What a coward!
JC: King literally bailed on the match, Brody.
9!!!!!!!!!!
King rolls back under the bottom rope, and SEB is moving in!!!
Only for King to roll under the rope again and back to the floor.
The crowd erupts with boos, while King simply laughs and curses at them.
1!
2!!
JC: Doesn’t look like SEB is waiting around any longer!
BG: Wait a second, this ain’t fair, Jack! King is trying to get a breather!
SEB hits the floor and chases after King. But Kieran uses his trademark quickness to keep some distance between the two of them, running SEB in a lap around the ring. As King turns the corner for a second lap, he pushes the steel steps out in SEB’s path. Bryce is forced to hop over them, just narrowly avoiding contact.
He lands on his feet, but has lost step and now King is clear on the other side of the ring, laughing and taunting at his opponent.
SEB rolls his eyes and slides back into the ring. He runs across to the opposite side, and slides right at King’s face for a baseball slide attack. But King steps out of the way and starts pummeling Bryce’s knee with punches. SEB groans and tries pulling his legs back, but King is relentless. He holds the leg in place, dangling awkwardly on the apron, and bashes down on the knee again with an elbow.
JC: Oh! The looks painful! Bending SEB’s knee in an awkward position!
BG: Brilliant strategy here by King, Jack! Some of SEB’s most impressive arsenal comes from his legs, and if King is able to take that away, this will be an early night.
Another elbow lands to the top of the knee, and SEB has to pull back with all of his might to get his legs free from King. He rolls back toward the center of the mat and hobbles up to his feet- but as soon as he does KING IS SPRINGBOARDING BACK IN THE RING WITH A DIVING CROSSBODY!
But King doesn’t stoop, he pops to his feet and runs at the ropes again, and just as SEB stands back up, King is springboarding from the ropes again, this time with a diving moonsault that flattens SEB back on the canvas.
King covers!
1!
2- QUICK KICKOUT!
SEB powers King off of him, and both men pop to their feet. A quick arm drag from SEB plants the King, but he’s right back - ONLY TO BE ARM DRAGGED DOWN AGAIN! But still King pops to his feet, SEB rockets a superkick toward his face, but King catches the leg, spins him around and dragonscrews him to the mat. But King holds onto the leg, and throws himself behind SEB, hyper extending it. SEB shouts and grabs at his quad. But King wastes not time, he darts up and hits the ropes again, springboard moonsault a second time - - -ONLY SEB ROLLS OUT OF THE WAY!
King eats the canvas but is back to his feet… for a moment…
JC: BELLY TO BELLY SUPLEX FROM SEB - - - AND THE COVER!
1!
2– QUICK KICK OUT BY KING NOW!
Both men are back to their feet again. SEB muscles King into a grapple and whips him into the ropes. On the rebound, it’s a roundhouse kick! The King avoids! King keeps running full speed at the ropes, he’s leaping for another springboard attack- but it’s SEB catching him from behind!
GERMAN SUPLEX!
1!
2!!
KICK OUT!
Both men get back to their feet each a little slower this time. SEB moves in for an attack and - - - King rolls back to the floor.
Boos rain down from the audience.
1!
The ref counts
2!!
3!!!
4!!!!
King is waving off SEB dismissively, and barking at the fans again, this time legitimately catching his breath and IT’S SEB WITH A SUICIDE DIVE!!!!
THAT MISSES!
King timed to perfectly, and SEB thrashes into the barricade on the outside, but is some how still standing, leaning against the structure, until King comes from behind and kicks him in the back of the knee
1!
The count restarts
2!!
3!!!
SEB turns around, but is introduced to a savage flurry of kicks, and then stomps from King until SEB is down on the arena floor.
4!!!!
King takes a few steps back, and waits for SEB to stand
5!!!!!
6!!!!!!
And as he does, King rushes in at full speed and - - - SHOTGUN DROPKICK!
JC: Oh my! The impact of that move nearly took out the barricade!
7!!!!!!!
King immediately slides back in the ring and opens his arms to the crowd who are booing and pelting him with trash.
8!!!!!!!!
BG: These people can boo all they want. But The King has just shown that the XWF has no place for an Empire in his kingdom long live the-
9!!!!!!!!!
SOMEHOW SEB MAKES A DESPERATE, UNCONSCIOUS SLIDE BACK UNDER THE ROPES JUST IN THE NICK OF TIME!
King is furious!
He begins stomping and kicking on SEB again. Even grabbing the ropes for extra leverage, as now his boot slides across Mr. 24/7’s throat. He chokes SEB with the boot until the ref comes and breaks him with a count. King aggressively lets go of the hold and stomps over to the turn buckle. He climbs to the top and sizes SEB up, and just as soon as he stands…
DIVING DOUBLE AXEHANDLE!!!!
BUT SEBS ROLLS OUT OF THE WAY!
He grapples King up for a suplex… BUT KING COUNTERS WITH A SMALL PACKAGE!
1!
2!!
SEB BARELY KICKS OUT!
Both men pop to their feet. King charges in for a slingblade, but SEB holds onto King and slams him down to the mat with a spinning back suplex
BG: What kind of move was that?!
JC: SEB is the master of all forms of suplexes, Brody!
BG: Master my ass (giggidy) that was luck!
King leans up, grabbing at his lower back, but is still getting to his feet pretty quickly. SEB is on him though, a kick to the ribs, and then another kick on the opposite side, and pushing boot to the chest all send King throttling backward into the corner. SEB takes a few steps back and runs in for another big kick. But moves out of the way. SEB’s leg gets caught between the ropes and now King has him in a bad spot. King leaps up onto the middle ropes, then postionins himself up onto the turnbuckle, and OOOOOH!!! A diving stomp to SEB’s chest!
King covers, grabbing a handful of tights in the process!!!
1!
2!!
NO!!!!!!!!
King pounds a fist into the mat, and pops to his feet to immediately argue that the ref was slow counting. He and the ref come face to face. King is berating him to the nth degree, he raises his arm, as f he’s going to smack him- BUT FROM BEHIND!
SEB grabs the arm, and hits a reverse exploder suplex into the corner.
King crumbles to a seated position in the corner. SEB runs across the ring, and gets a full head of steam before blasting King right in the face with a running dropkick!
SEB pulls King out of the corner and toward the cneter of the ring. He steps behind him, hooks his leg around his calf AND LOCKS IN THE S4S!!!!!
JC: KING IS IN NO MANS LAND HERE, BRODY!
BG: This is bull crap, Jack and you know it! King had this match won if it weren’t for that slow motion ref!
JC: Looked like a normal count to me– but there’s no time to dwell on that now. King is being stretched in half here with this submission and he might have to submit!
King is shouting out in pain, trying to flip over to his back. But SEB has this thing locked in to perfection. Wrenching back on the neck. The ref is down in King’s face, asking if he wants to submit. His hand is waving around willy, as if he’s about to tap but doing everything he can to stop himself.
The ref is face to face with him, imploring him to stop if he can’t go on… King’s hand waves more, just above the mat and then - - - GOUGES THE REF IN THE EYE????
JC: OH! Was that inadvertent?
BG: Of course it was, Jack! When have you ever known King to cheat???
JC:Hm. Yeah, when have we ever seen - - - WAIT! KING IS TAPPING??? HE’S TAPPING OUT!
But the ref is blinded!
SEB hears the tap, and lets go of the hold… a painful, but satisfied smile creeps onto King’s face.
JC: He tapped, Brody! King tapped out! Damnit! The ref didn’t see it!
BG: Are you blind, man? King did no such thing!
SEB raises an arm in the air, waiting to hear the bell… but his eyes go wide when he sees the ref covering his face. SEB slaps the mat and moves over to the ref to try and help him recover. He’s pleading his case, trying to tell the ref that King tapped out, but the ref is still trying to gather himself when - - -
UGLY ON THE OUTSIDE!
The codebreaker smashes SEB’s face!!!!
He falls directly backward- - -
-and through the ropes, tumbling to arena floor.
King is gassed trying to catch his breath
When he finally does he stands… the crowd is buzzing with excitement from this awesome contest. He looks outside and starts to see SEB stirring.
King hits the ropes and - - -
SUICIDE DIVE!!!!!!
NO!!!!!
EMPIRE KICK!!!!
JC: OH MY GOD! SEB JUST HIT A MODIFIED LEAPING EMPIRE KICK! CATCHING KING MID AIR! BOTH MEN ARE OUT ON THE FLOOR!
The ref begins to count…
1!
2!!
3!!!
4!!!!
5!!!!!
JC: Say what you will about either of these men, Brody. But this match has lived up to the hype. Two of the best wrestlers in the world are both sprawled out on the arena floor… what a shame if this were to end in a double count out
BG: It would be a crying shame baby, but I just don’t know if either have anything left in the tank.
6!!!!!!
7!!!!!!!
SEB begins to stir. Suddenly he’s up to his feet… HE RUNS FOR THE APRON
8!!!!!!!!
BUT KING GRABS HIS LEG! HE PULLS SEB DOWN AND THROWS HIMSELF FORWARD
9!!!!!!!!!
KING IS IN and - - -
10??????????????????????????????
NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
SEB IS IN!!!!
JUST BARELY!
Both men are at a crawl, and both men slowly gather to their feet. The crowd is going wild
SEB moves in for a kick, and King eats the shot, with only his arm providing a bit of cushion between SEB’s boot and his ribs. But King fights through pele kick of his own, but SEB partially blocks it while tumbling back into the corner. King flinches at him, and SEB drops his guard for a split second.
BUZZSAW KICK TO THE FACE!
SEB is draped in the corner.
King moves in, and positions each of SEB’s legs over the middle rope, leaving his groin without any means of defense.
King steps back and then charges in
CROWN JEWLES!!!!!
MISSSES!!!!!
SEB FREED HIMSELF JUST IN TIME!
King’s foot only catches turnbuckle padding and it jostles him
DDT FROM SEB!!!!!
The crowd is stirring! They can feel it!
SEB kip ups to his feet… he’s sizing King up now…
King staggers up and
GERMAN SUPLEX
A ROLL THROUGH!!!!
AND A SECOND GERMAN SUPLEX RELEASING KING INTO THE CORNER!!!!
HE’S RUNNING IN AT KING!
MOONSAULT KICK - - - -
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
UGLY ON THE OUTSIDE!!!!!
JC: How in the hell did King recover????!!!!!
BG: I don’t know, Jack, but he’s just finished this match!!!
King covers
1!
2!!
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!
JC: I can’t believe it! I don’t know if I’ve ever seen anyone kick out of one Ugly on the Outside. That’s the second one SEB has taken tonight!
King is in absolute shock. He climbs to his knees, trying to catch his breath. He eyes the turnbuckle and knows that if he’s going to win this match, he’s got to put SEB away now.
He staggers up, wobbling as he moves toward the turnbuckle, making a slow climb to the top. He braces himself, and then leaps…
KING MAKER!!!!!!!
BUT KING HAS TO ROLL THROUGH!
HE SPOTTED SEB MOVING OUT OF THE WAY JUST IN TIME.
King rolls forward, and turns around. He sees SEB getting to his feet, but before the former universal champion can gain any ground, King pounces on him. A running shotgun dropkick sends SEB back through the ropes and onto the apron. SEB is out on his feet, only his unconscious grab of the ropes keeping him upright.
King climbs the turnbuckle nearest him and DIVING HURRICANARNA TO THE FLOOR - - - IS WIFFED!!!!!
SEB falls back in the ring and King takes a nasty spill, slamming against the hard ring apron and then crashing back to the floor.
Both men are down again.
SEB in the ring.
King on the ground.
The ref is counting King out
1!
2!!
3!!!
4!!!!
JC: Neither of this men are willing to give up in the match Brody, every time I think it’s over, one or both of them continue to rise to the occasion.
5!!!!!
SEB staggers up to his feet
6!!!!!!
And so to does King!
7!!!!!!!!
King slides in the ring…
EMPIRE KICK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
IS MISSED!
KING SIDE STEPS AND - - -
UGLY ON THE OUTSIDE!!!!!!!!!!!!
IS COUNTERED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
JC: Empire Kick! Empire Kick! IT CONNECTS!
BG: NOOOO!
SEB COVERS!
1!
2!!
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!
KING GOT A SHOULDER UP!!!! JUST BARELY!!!!
These two are crawling on the mat, each finding it hard to stand up one last time.
SEB is up to his feet first and wobbles, and hovers over King. Just as he stands…
NIGHTFALL FROM BEHIND!!!!!
THE SLEEPER IS LOCKED IN!
KING IS FADING!!!!!
The ref runs over and checks King’s arm. It drops as quickly as he raised it.
He checks the arm again, and just as it drops - - - AN UNCONSCIOUS REVERSE KICK UP INTO SEB’S NADS!
JC: A LOW BLOW! AND DAMMIT I DONT THINK THE REF SAW IT!
KING IS OUT ON HIS FEET!
AND SEB IS FALLING BACKWARD!
BUT NOT BEFORE- - -
JC: CROWNING ACHIEVEMENT!
King hasn’t used that move in YEARS! And I’m not sure if he even knows he did it!
The DDT plants SEB.
King falls on top of him, draping an unconscious arm over his chest.
1!
2!!
3!!!
WINNER VIA PINFALL - KING KIERAN!
JC: What an absolute war that was!
BG: What a main event!
JC: Even though King used some down right disqualifiable tactics tonight, it’s hard to deny that we just witnessed a match between two of the best in the world!
BG: Disqualifiable? The only thing disqualifying is your obvious bias toward our King!
JC: I’ve got to give the devil his due. King called his shot, and he landed with a huge victory here tonight in Sturgis!
As SEB makes his way from the ring, Kieran King takes a moment to catch his breath. Suddenly a slow, deliberate clap can be heard, as if a microphone is held up to it.
It's a familiar clap. Heard earlier tonight
Charlie Nickles.
Nickles walks out onto the stage, flanked by The Corporation: Matthias Syn and The Grok.
Charlie: “What a show, Kieran. What a show!
A couple more performances like that, and I might even consider signing you to a full-time contract! That is, if your body could even handle the schedule.
That’s kind of the thing about you, isn’t it, Kieran?
You show up once or twice a year, put some washed-up has-beens in the dirt, and then saunter off into the horizon like you fuckin’ did something.
But not this time, Kieran…and as the Acting General Manager of Warfare, I can finally make sure that your bitch-made body goes through the ringer before Relentless!
For the first time in over a decade, I’m going to make sure you travel like a full-time talent! And if you half-ass it, you can kiss your dream off a title shot goodbye!
And that’s why next week….you’re not going to get the night off.
You’re going to be going up against…”
Charlie looks to Syn who smiles. And then to Grok.
Charlie Nickles: “...BOTH–”
King Kieran: “–Let me cut you off there, Chucky. I don't think it's going to look very good for you if the solution you have to this here crown of thorns in your side is to send me one of those washed-up has-beens that I already beat this year. Glad you think the same of Matthias Syn as I do.”
Syn looks furious.
King Kieran: “You misunderstand what's going on here. This ‘Burger King' crown? It's REAL power. And I had no intention of taking next Warfare off. So how about I take this One King, Zero Revolutions show a step further? How about I take YOUR beloved WarGames Captain?
Next Warfare, BRING ME ISAIAH!
JC: Can Kieran do that, Brody?!
BG: Well, he just did!
The crowd pops at the match-up announcement as Kieran smirks inside the ring, clearly looking forward to the opportunity.
Charlie Nickles: “Fine! But that’s not all, Kieran…
In fact, I think these fans deserve some more action….RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW, TONIGHT!
What do you say, STURGIS?!?!”
Charlie Nickles bears a devilish smirk as he basks in the crowd’s guttural calls for violence. He adjusts his tie before bringing the microphone back up to his lips one final time.
Charlie: “You heard the crowd, boys! If not next show, then why not now? GO FUCK HIM UP!”
JC: No! No! The Corporation is acting like a GANG out here tonight! Kieran already had a grueling match, and now, they’re going to subject him to this numbers game?!
BG: You heard Charlie earlier tonight! He said Kieran had a ‘target’ on his crown, and it looks like The Corporation is taking aim!
Kieran can be seen muttering to himself as Nickles orders Syn and Grok to ringside. They flank the ring and King eyes them suspiciously. Having taken his fair share of licks over the past months, King launches into action with a suicide dive that wipes out The Grok right off the bat!
King scrambles to his feet and drags The Grok up too. He doesn't have long before Syn gets there so he acts quick. Taking Grok by the head, he drives him face first into the steel steps and then hurtles him over the barricade into the crowd!
THE BIKERS IN THE FRONT ROW BEGIN PUMMELING “THE GROK” AS SOON AS HE CROSSES THE THRESHOLD!
That’s when Kieran King turns around to see Matthias Syn squaring up with him.
JC: A March Madness semifinal rematch!
Alas, it's not to be. Charlie Nickles comes from out of nowhere and blasts King with a sucker punch!
Nickles continues the assault and backs King up to the barricade. Grok fights off the bikers and tries to help from the other side, but King ducks a Nickles charge that sees Nickles take out The Grok! King follows after as he and Nickles brawl up through the crowd!
Syn collects The Grok and the two trail at a distance as the King of the XWF and the former Universal Champion - both fresh off massive wars tonight - trade blows and advantage throughout the crowd until they disappear back through one of the crowd's entrances.
Then, suddenly…
JC: Wait a second, Brody- that’s-
The crowd’s attention shifts, their reaction one of thunderous applause.
JC: It’s Dolly Waters! The Universal Champion is here in front of this crowd, Brody!
BG: No! She shouldn’t be allowed out here! I’m sure the Board of Directors told her to take a hike!
JC: Could this mean…
The crowd is in a frenzy as Dolly appears under the XTron.
*DOL-LY! DOL-LY! DOL-LY!*
The Universal Gold shimmering around her waist. An assured smile resting on her glowing features. She steps to the forefront of the stage, holding an envelope in one hand. Without saying a word, she opens it, and produces a piece of paper. The camera zooms in, broadcasting to the crowd, and the entire world what it says on the header:
“XWF WORKERS’ UNION – 2025”
A HISTORIC AGREEMENT BETWEEN THE XTREME WRESTLING FEDERATION AND IT’S WORKERS
”For the welfare, equality and respect of every performer and worker in the Xtreme Wrestling Federation”
…Signed by the XWF Board of Directors.
The crowd chants even louder now:
*DOL-LY! DOL-LY! DOL-LY!*
JC: My god! She’s done it!!!
BG: NOOO!!! THIS CAN’T BE! THIS IS A DAMN TRAVESTY!
Dolly smiles and turns back to the XTron.
She stops just at the threshold to the Pryce-Position, and posts the signed contract on the left side of the stage entrance. She kisses her fingers and touches the paper, then raises her fist in the air.
SPECIAL THANKS:
Bashmaster
Peter Principle
Bobby Bourbon
Liam Desmond
Jimmy Stars
Gorgonzola
Matthias Syn
ELO
BLACKOUT.
No flicker. No fade. The lights just fuckin' vanish. Instant. Surgical. Like a throat slit mid-sentence.
What was once noise—music, commentary, banter—becomes a vacuum. A full-stop.
Then comes the screaming. Not the good kind. Not the kind you sell merch with. This is the kind of scream that makes your blood turn to slush.
High, broken, involuntary.
Thousands of people reacting to absence.
There’s nothing to see and nowhere to look. Just a thick, crawling dark settling over twenty thousand bodies with no clue what’s coming.
Phones go up — flashlights flicker and scatter, throwing more confusion than light.
Every row’s doing something different — some fans are shouting, some are laughing, some are dead silent, but all of them are on edge.
Security's frozen.
Ringside crew’s not moving.
The whole building feels held in place by something no one can name.
House audio? Still humming.
Cameras? Still red-lit. Watching. Recording.
And still—nothing happens.
No music. No pyro. No video.
Just a crowd coming apart by degrees—one breath, one flashlight, one rising panic at a time.
Then the pitch shifts.
Cheers start breaking through—raw, confused, desperate.
Like someone trying to convince themselves it’s all part of the show.
But the cheers don’t stay cheers.
They warp. Stretch. Fracture.
Half the arena keeps clapping.
The other half starts screaming louder.
A few voices rise in rhythm:
CROWD (SCATTERED): MA-RA-ETH! MA-RA-ETH!
It doesn’t spread evenly and it certainly isn’t unanimous, but it doesn’t stop, either.
Some of them are true believers. Others just want to be on the right side of history. More than a few just want to watch the world burn.
Then—
THE MUSIC HITS.
BOOM — like a detonation under the stage.
"Now We Become Death..."
And just like that—
The screaming folds into itself. The air in the arena changes—gets heavy, like the oxygen’s been drugged.
Boos dominate the soundscape but some fans are still yelling. Some are crying. Some are cheering. Not many. But enough to feel wrong. Those ones? They’re smiling. Eyes wide. Not blinking.
"The Destroyer of Worlds."
"GO BACK TO SLEEP!"
LIGHT.
The stage doesn’t light up—it erupts.
Surgical whites. Blood-red strobes. Violet spill that doesn’t belong to any spectrum.
Thousands of people flinch.
The sound surges again—a chaos of screams, boos, cheers, panic.
People are on their feet now, shouting at the ring, the stage, each other—and no one knows what to feel.
Some of them are filming. Some of them are frozen. But all of them? Locked in.
And then—
THEY’RE THERE.
Fractured spotlights slice through the haze—each one catching on a silhouette that shouldn’t be standing still.
Marisol cradled three-month-old LIRÆTH VA’THURANE VELANORA GORGO, headphones snug over tiny ears. The child rests calmly in her arms, swaddled in midnight cloth.
None in total. Standing like apostles at the edge of revelation.
The crowd erupts again.
Boos. Roars. Chaos.
But underneath the outrage—a current of cheers. They aren’t loud or dominant, but they are there. And they are angry, righteous and hungry.
And then—
They walk out from the back. Slow. Unstoppable. Each footfall lands with no sound—but the whole building feels it. Fog rolls after Them, spilling over the stage, lit from below with inverted spirals. Every house light flickers, like it’s considering going out again.
They are monstrous beauty incarnate. A body that remembers divinity through mutation.
Skin gleaming with a dusklit sheen, painted in cosmic blues and bruised violets—like starlight caught in obsidian oil. Dense with muscle, but shaped in proportions just wrong enough to terrify. Sculpted perfection without reference to humanity.
Their right side is partially consumed by something else—veined, armored, textured with sentient shadow. It clings like bark poured from liquid night. It wasn’t just a costume. It was an infection.
Across Their chest, an eye. Real. Luminous. Unblinking. Staring through torn threads of an asymmetrical top. It does not blink. It watches.
Their hair crowns upward like a flame held in place—matte black, kissed with starlight. It sways without moving.
Their face is joy and ruin. A smile that doesn’t end. Teeth too white. Expression too wide. Irises burning with colors that do not belong in any single soul. Rainbow fire spinning inside pitch-black sclera.
They don’t wear armor. They are the weapon. And now that They have arrived, everyone—every soul in the building—remembers Them now.
The lights hold. The crowd doesn’t. Every part of the arena is doing something different. The front rows? Phones out and filming. A few with hands over their mouths. A guy in Row 2 throws up the sign of the cross—fast, like maybe he used to believe.
Up in the cheap seats, it’s full volume.
Chants clash.
Screams ripple.
Booing punches through cheers.
People yelling over each other, over the music, over the lights—and none of them agree on what they’re seeing.
Someone’s laughing too loud. Someone else is crying on the floor. There’s a fight breaking out in Section 214—security’s not even moving.
And over it all? That stage. Nine figures, frozen. Like the world ended and they didn’t get the memo.
Maræth stands at the center. Their grin isn’t for the crowd. It’s for the story—and it’s not done yet.
The lights glitch. A flicker to make reality feel unstable. Then the PA system chokes. A crackle. A glitch. A digital vomit of half-broken syllables. And then—
Maræth’s eyes leave the crowd and stare directly into the camera lens in front of Them. They speak, loud enough to cut through the noise, terrifying enough to soften spines.
MARÆTH: We never left. You simply stopped believing.
FADE
TO
BLACK
RAINBOW.
83-31-1
1x XWF Universal Champion || 3x XWF Xtreme Champion || 1x XWF Supercontinental Champion (First)
1x XWF Hart Champion (Last) || 2x XWF Television Champion || 1x XWF Tag Team Champion
1x OCW Savage Champion || 1x IIW Tag Team Champion || 1x AAW United States Champion
2x SOTM (9/20, 7/21) || 2021 Male Wrestler of the Year || XWF Hall of Legends
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