JR: I mean, we’ve got the production budget! Elon’s a trillionaire now! Might as well use it!
The lights went dark!
The sound of thunder Ker-ACKS throughout the arena!
Over the PA system, a woman laughs…
A Storm…
Is…
COMING
Suddenly, the lights turned blue! Rain falls from the rafters above as Latoya Hixx walks out at the top of the ramp, flexing her muscles!
JC: What an entrance! Latoya Hixx has been challenging for XWF titles for her entire XWF career! And while she hasn’t scored a belt yet, she did score a symbolic victory at Leap of Faith!
JR: Symbolic? She won the opening battle royal! She won a spot in the Leap of Faith match! That’s as legit a victory as anyone can have, even if she didn’t go the distance!
JC: I hear you, Joe! But I’m talking about a different match that Latoya wasn’t in! Betsy Granger had won a match so no one in the John Blade Chain Gang could challenge for the Revolution Title while she held it! But Betsy lost her belt when Summer Page pinned Solomon Kline in the Revolution Title Triple-Threat!
JR: Gasp! So Latoya is back in contention for the Revolution Title!
JC: Correct, Joe! And she’s coming off the biggest win of her career at Leap of Faith! Can she keep the momentum rolling tonight?
The lights return to their default settings as Hixx walks straight down the aisle and she slaps a few hands of wrestling fans!
Hixx climbs up the steel steps, then enters the ring…
The lights dim and she flexes her muscles one final time!
…
Let's light it up hits, and Deena Hixx comes out from behind the curtains and walks out on stage and skips on down the aisle and skips around the ring.
JC: Deena Hixx is a firecracker wrapped in kerosene, Toddrick! She’s less predictable than the lottery!
JR: The Crazy Chick is out there, for sure! But, we both know she and her twin sister Latoya are hungry for gold and eager to thrust themselves into title belt contention!
JC: …Twins?
JR: Identical twins!
JC: Absolutely not.
Deena slides into the ring and leans on the ropes with her legs crossed and waits for her Opponent to arrive.
…
The arena lights slowly dim until the XWF faithful are swallowed almost entirely by the encroaching darkness.
A low pulsating baseline hums through the PA system as “Angel” by Massive Attack begins. Dim gold lights cast shadows to all angles as fog slowly fills the stage.
The tron screen begins to show signs of life, golden lines trace the outline of thousands of tiny puzzle pieces collapsing to reveal “El Rompecabezas” in metallic gold script.
There are no fireworks or explosions. These sort of cheap trappings are forgone, this is a man of substance not spectacle. Stepping onto the stage, the masked mask clad in black with gold details pauses. Looking around the arena, he isn’t soaking in the moment or milking the admiration of the fans like his colleagues…he is studying his surroundings, completing his calculations on how to best solve tonight’s challenge.
JC: There he is! The mysterious El Rompecabezas! We know virtually nothing about him, but whispers and rumors!
JR: I’ve heard he’s the deadliest man in all of Mexico! And I don’t just mean in the ring! He’s got cartel connections, Jacuinde!
JC: We don’t know that for sure, Joe! But we’re about to get a glimpse of what he’s capable of in the ring!
Making his way to the ring slowly, each step he takes is measured and with purpose. Fans are almost completely ignored as they factor little into the outcome of what is about to transpire. Cheer. Boo. It doesn’t matter to the conundrum that is El Rompecabezas.
…
But what maybe should matter to El Rompecabezas…
IS DEENA HIXX exploding through the ropes like a missile!
Bowling over El Rompecabezas with a suicide dive!
As Latoya slides under the ropes herself!
JC: Whoa! The Hixxes aren’t waiting for the bell!
Deena is ontop of El Rompecabezas, biting on his mask and clawing at his eyeholes as Rompecabezas shoves her off him!
But before he can even rise to his feet…
LATOYA HIXX, THE STORM, scoops him up effortlessly off the padded concrete!
Aaaaaaaand…
BELLY-TO-BELLY SUPLEX ON THE METAL ENTRANCE RAMP!
The crowd gasped.
The masked wrestler crashed hard onto the entrance ramp.
JC: This match hasn't even officially started!
JR: That's a terrible welcome package, man.
Deena immediately scrambled atop the fallen technician, mounting him
Punch.
Punch.
Punch.
Punch.
JC: Those punches don’t look particularly effective. But they certainly are enthusiastic!
JR: Hey, you get tossed like a ragdoll onto a metal ramp, I guarantee you everything hurts! Getting moved without a backbrace hurts! Those punches are doing plenty of damage!
Latoya brushes Deena off their opponent with a gentle kick… Deena screeches something as Latoya simply grabbed Rompecabezas by the mask and hauled him to his feet.
Latoya whipped Rompecabezas toward the ring apron.
Deena sprinted.
Full speed.
The fastest woman in wrestling became a blur.
RUNNING HURRICANRANA!
The masked man flipped violently onto the floor.
JC: The official should stop this! Call the match off!
Indeed, the official is rebuking the Hixxes for all this pre-match assault…
Before they finally dragged their victim into the ring.
The referee stewed for a moment… before calling for the bell.
DING DING DING!
El Rompecabezas
- vs -
Deena Hixx & Latoya Hixx Handicap Match
JR: Looks like the official is letting this match go on!
Rompecabezas struggled to rise off the mat as the Hixxes rolled under the bottom ropes!
Latoya grabbed him into a front facelock…
And sends him up!
She held him suspended impossibly long before crashing him down.
The crowd counted along.
One...
Two...
Three...
Four…
Deena tries to count along before confusing herself…
JC: That girl ain’t right.
Five…
Six...
Seven...
Then—
BOOM.
The ring shook.
DELAYED VERTICAL SUPLEX!
JR: This is absolute domination! The guy hasn't gotten a single move in!
JC: It’s a travesty is what it is! El Rompecabezas isn’t getting a fair fight!
JR: Did America get a fair fight against the opioid crisis?
JC: …I feel like *you* think you just made a good point and I want to be clear, you did not.
Latoya flexes her arms over the fallen luchador, looking very dominant!
…As Deena shoves her sister… not particularly fair, but far enough so that she can get a bite or two in on their fallen prey!
She forces El Rompecabezas up to his feet…
ARM DRAG!
ARM DRAG!
ARM DRAG!
JC: Deena knows other moves, right?
JR: If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it! And these arm drags are sapping what little fight El Rompecabezas still has!
El Rompecabezas slowly rises… Deena beckons him forward, readying a FOURTH arm drag…
…But Rompecabezas collapsed before she could grab him, falling backwards into the corner!
JC: Accidentally countering through exhaustion!
JR: He might have saved his own life, Deena would have just kept arm-dragging him until his shoulder came out its socket!
The crowd laughed.
Deena looked personally offended.
Latoya brushed her sister aside, charging El Rompecabezas in the corner…
A CRUSHING CORNER SPLASH!
El Rompecabezas looks like a smear in the corner… but Latoya runs to the opposite corner! Then back!
ANOTHER CORNER SPLASH!
She runs away! Back!
ANOTHER CORNER SPLASH!
JR: See, that's the thing. Once something works for these two, they just keep doing it forever.
JC: It tends to see them get countered for repeating their strategies… but tonight, with the early ambush, El Rompecabezas hasn’t even had the chance to digest what they’re doing strategically. It’s a blitzkrieg and it’s working!
Finally, Latoya peeled El Rompecabezas from the corner… heaving him off his feet!
HELLACIOUS FALLAWAY SLAM sends the luchador hurtling across the ring!
JR: The Hixxes look more dominant than ever! El Rompecabezas may not have a partner, but the Hixxes might have a fair argument to compete for the Tag Titles the way they’re looking tonight!
JC: If they ambush the Clowns like they did Rompecabezas, who knows? Might work!
Finally Latoya planted a massive hand on Deena's shoulder.
The sisters nodded as Deena backed up into the corner…
Latoya IRISH WHIPPED her sister!
The technician stumbled up to his feet!
JC: Deena’s taking off! Like a rocket.
JR: Like a bullet.
JC: Like a Ferrari with no brakes.
The crowd rose as Deena leaps through the air…
DEENA WIZARD!
…
NO!
At the last possible second—
Rompecabezas dropped flat to the mat.
Deena flew past.
Crashing face-first into the turnbuckles.
The arena exploded.
JC: HE DODGED IT!
JR: Or as they say in Mexico, Casi! Casi! Casi!
Deena dizzily pulls herself to a vertical base! Latoya rushes toward El Rompecabezas…
As he surges to his feet.
EUROPEAN UPPERCUT!
Latoya stumbled backward! Deena surges at him screeching!
EUROPEAN UPPERCUT!
Deena gets rocked.
UPPERCUT TO DEENA!
UPPERCUT TO LATOYA!
UPPERCUT TO DEENA!
UPPERCUT TO LATOYA!
JC: El Rompecabezas is fighting his way back into this one!
JR: The masked wrestler was fighting desperately now. Every strike fueled by survival!
The crowd began roaring with each shot.
Deena collapsed through the ropes.
Latoya remained standing, going for a desperation…
LARIAT!
…But El Rompecabezas seized her arm.
SHOULDER BREAKER!
The giant woman dropped to one knee.
JC: El Rompecabezas has battled back! He might pull off the comeback here!
Rompecabezas backed into the corner.
His eyes locked onto Latoya.
He sprinted forward.
The crowd rose.
MINDWIPE! (Punt Kick)
…
But Deena Hixx slid under the ropes!
As El Rompecabezas ran, Deena caught him from the side with…
THE DEENA WIZARD!
IT CONNECTS!
The shining wizard smashed into the side of his head.
The entire arena gasped.
JC: WHAT A SHOT! Shocking ring awareness by Deena Hixx, cutting off El Rompecabezas as he was about to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat!
JR: You might be giving Deena too much credit there, Jacuinde! I don’t know if Deena knew what was happening beyond, a man running, I better run too!
JC: Either way, El Rompecabezas took his eye off the ball and never saw Deena coming!
The impact staggered the luchador.
He collapsed—
But not completely.
Somehow.
Some way.
El Rompecabezas remained on one knee.
His head lowered.
His body trembling.
Still fighting.
Still refusing to fall.
The crowd actually began applauding.
JC: The toughness of this man is unbelievable!
JR: But that was a shot from Deena… now he’s gotta deal with Latoya!
Latoya shook her head, climbing back to her feet… She backed into the ropes!
Took one step forward.
And unleashed hell.
BICYCLE KICK!
THOOM!
The kick landed flush.
JC: Holy SHIT! El Rompecabezas folded backward like he'd been hit by a truck.
The masked wrestler crashed flat to the canvas.
Motionless.
Deena immediately dove on top of him.
The referee counted.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
DING DING DING!
Winners: The Hixx Sisters
The crowd erupted.
JC: It's over! The Hixx sisters have won!
JR: You know what? They might not understand wrestling, but they definitely understand violence.
JC: The Hixx sisters stole a victory tonight over a debuting El Rompecabezas by ambushing him before the match ever started! Will we see El Rompecabezas return to seek revenge on the Hixxes?
Latoya grabbed Deena's arm and raised it triumphantly.
The sisters celebrated like conquering heroes.
“Main Event Ish” by Def Rebel hits and Jay Fetu walks out into the XWF Universe. He wears his typical garb: Yeet Sunglasses, a Yeet shirt, and pants with a Fetu logo on one side of his pants and a Yeet on the other.
The crowd reaches out for him as he raises his hands to the sky.
He yeets, and the whole crowd yeets with him.
The crowd keeps going as Fetu walks down the stairs, slapping kids’ hands and giving adults high fives until he makes it to the barricade. As he climbs over, he makes sure to slap hands with both Jac and Joe before getting into the ring, climbing to the top rope and yeeting with the XWF Universe again until his music dies down.
JC: Jay Fetu has only recently joined the XWF, but he's already made a tremendous connection with our fans. The question on everyone's mind is whether that connection will translate to a victory here tonight. And speaking of making connections…
“The Time is Now” hits as John Blade walks out on stage. He greets the cameraman and bounces a little, soaking in the crowd’s applause.
Holding up his “Never Give Up” logo flag, he tosses it to the fans. He salutes and runs straight down towards the ring. He bounces off the ropes side to side and he holds up his “Hustle, Loyalty, and Respect” shirt. He takes off his hat and tosses his shirt to the fans, hands his chain to the ref, and waits for his opponent to arrive.
[white]JC: If there's one word that comes to mind when I think about John Blade, it would be ‘infamous’. He's known the world over and is one of the most unrelenting forces professional wrestling has ever seen. And just like Fetu, the XWF Universe appreciates him for it.
Suddenly, the lights goes out. A familiar voice announces that “Wrestling has one royal family” and when Kingdom by Downstait hits, fireworks burst open and Razor Blade comes out wearing his classic American Nightmare outfit..Razor lifts his arms in the air and then fist pumps and he sees a kid wearing one of his shirts. He takes off his American Nightmare belt and hands it to the XWF fan, before heading to the ring.
He climbs up the steps and hops up onto the turnbuckle with both arms in the air. More fireworks burst once again and he gets inside of the ring, takes off his jacket and prepares for a fight.
JC: And the third piece of the puzzle is Razor Blade. Unlike John and Jay, Razor didn't compete at Leap of Faith. But just like them, he's got to be viewing this match as a chance to get himself back on the winning path before moving on to bigger and better things.
JR: The problem for all of these guys, Jac, is that this is an elimination match. Which means there men enter, only one wins, but both of the others are going to take a fall here. Only one person gets their chance at glory.
JC: Let's wait for the bell to find out who it’ll be.
Razor Blade
- vs -
Jonathan Blade
- vs -
‘Main Event’ Jay Fetu Triple Threat Elimination Match
With the others having left the ring as ‘The American Nightmare’ entered, Razor Blade stands alone in the ring. John Blade and Jay Fetu enter from opposite sides, keeping their eyes locked on Razor as the bell rings.
It’s John Blade who moves first, stepping forward and braggadociously daring his opponents to come get some. Fetu and Razor both stare him down. Just as they flick their eyes to one another, John Blade lunges first. He hits Razor with right hand after right hand and then rapidly switches over to Fetu, laying in punches to the other opponent too.
It's a fast exchange, with John Blade trying to keep both Razor and Fetu on the backfoot.
JC: The Surgeon of Thuganomics has come out of the gates all guns blazing here!
JR: I've always thought the best strategy is to just punch your opponent in the face.
JC: John Blade seems to think the same!
While John continues to fire off shots on Fetu, Razor tries to flank him. John turns quickly and catches Razor with a clothesline before then knocking Fetu down in the same way. For a brief stretch, he successfully manages to fight both opponents at once.
The advantage does not last long.
Razor Blade and Jay Fetu begin working together to coordinate attacks. Whenever John Blade focuses on one man, the other moves in from behind. John absorbs punches and kicks from both sides as the other two start taking control.
Together, Razor and Fetu force John backwards. They whip him across the ring and catch him together with double shoulder blocks. John drops to the mat and the pair continue their assault. Every attempt John Blade makes to create space is cut off by the two-on-one advantage.
A Samoan Drop from Fetu leads into a cover.
One…!
Two—kickout!
JC: John Blade didn't have much trouble there.
JR: But that's not the story here, Jac! Look at Razor!
The look on Razor’s face is incredulous over Fetu trying to steal the pin from under his nose. He shoves Fetu, as John crawls to the corner.
Razor then shoves Fetu again.
Then, Fetu shoves back.
Suddenly, Razor launches into Fetu with a series of punches, backing Fetu into the corner.
John is up! He tried to attack Razor from behind, but Razor turns and knocks him down.
His attention focuses on John now, methodically stomping at The Surgeon’s limbs and torso while he scrambles across the mat.
From behind, Fetu sledges Razor with a double axe handle. John tries to rise but Fetu stomps him down and then resumes his attack on Razor. He floats Razor over with a Northern Lights and swings over into a cover.
One…!
Two…!
Kickout!
JC: John Blade may have been looking to start early, but Jay Fetu seems intent on finishing early!
JR: I think there's a pill for that.
Pressing the attack against both foes, Fetu sees John in the corner. He charges. Running hip attack! He then drags John into the centre of the ring and stomps on his abdomen.
Razor tries to get up, and John tries to grab him too. Razor fights back with punches but an elbow to the back of the head slows him. Fetu employs another Samoan Drop leaving both men down in the ring.
He heads to the top rope!
JC: It's time for the Fetu Splash!
Fetu leaps!
But both Blades roll in opposite directions and Fetu crashes and burns.
JR: Nothing but MAT!
As the Blades both recover, John comes to life! He lights Razor up with punches! Suddenly, Razor ducks and starts returning the favour! Right hand! Right hand! Right hand! Razor does a little dance… bionic elbow! John is staggered. Razor whips him into the ropes and snaps him into a powerslam.
Standing over the fallen John Blade, Razor sees Fetu coming. Another powerslam! Razor roars to the crowd who cheer him on!
John Blade starts to rise once again. Razor springs off the ropes… Disaster Kick!
Razor covers!
One…!
Two…!
John Blade pops a shoulder!
Fetu starts to stir.
A Disaster Kick for him too!
And another cover!
One..!
Two…!
Fetu kicks out!
JC: The momentum just keeps swinging too and fro here!
JR: I've got to admit, this is pretty wild here. Usually in a elimination match like this, you'd see competitors be willing to let the others duke it out. But all three of these guys seem to want the smoke tonight.
JC: Why would that be, Joe?
JR: It's got to be about making a statement. Nothing more, nothing less. Eliminate both your opponents and you come out of this looking like a million bucks.
Both John Blade and Jay Fetu struggle to their feet, and Razor stalks stalks them both. He slips in and locks both in a front facelock.
JC: Razor looking for some sort of Double DDT here.
But through some sort of telepathic connection, both Fetu and John throw a jab into Razor’s kidneys. And another each. Soon, they both raise their heads and nod to one another. They flick Razor’s over their own necks and power him up into the air for a double suplex.
And Razor hits hard!
Fetu floats into a cover.
One…!
Tw… John Blade angrily pulls Fetu off.
Fetu leaps up and gets into John’s face.
John pushes Fetu.
Fetu pushes back.
And the two start trading blows.
The crowd cheers when John's hits land.
But they don't boo when Fetu's do. They yeet!
Neither man seems to get an upper hand, and instead Razor Blade flies out of nowhere with a double Diamond Blade!
Razor crawls towards John Blade…
Who rolls out of the ring!
JC: Wise move by the leader of the Chain Gang!
JR: What a stroke of bad luck! Razor chose the wrong guy to cover!
Fetu is still down and Razor now sets his sights on him.
He hooks the leg as he covers Jay.
One…!
Two…!
Kickout!
JC: That might have been it if Razor had just gone for Jay first!
JR: With John Blade on the outside, now's the time for either of these guys to eliminate the other!
Razor thinks the same.
He pulls Fetu to his feet and hooks him…
Blade Rose!
No!
Fetu fights out!
Superkick!
Missed!
Razor scrambles out of the way and hits a quick dropkick that sends Fetu into the corner. And Razor bulldogs him out of it!
JC: The momentum here seems to belong entirely to Razor Blade!
Razor climbs up to the middle rope. Flying knee drop! It lands right across Fetu's chest!
Cover!
One…!
Two…!
Th—Jay Fetu kicks out!
Razor thought he had him! The look of frustration is clear on his face.
And then it shifts to determination.
He looks down at Fetu with a plan in mind.
Razor hoists Fetu up.
Blade Rose!
No!
Again Fetu escapes!
And hits the superkick this time!
Razor Blade is rocked! But not down!
A second superkick changes that!
He hits the deck, but Jay Fetu is wobbly on his feet!
Razor gets up again.
Fetu Spear!
JC: That does the trick!
Fetu pins Razor.
One…!
Two…!
Th—kickout!
JR: Razor Blade just escaped by the skin of his teeth!
Jay clutches at his chest while he gets to his feet. He makes it up much before Razor, giving him some space to think about what's next.
It's the tried and true Samoan Drop!
Razor is laid out, and Fetu looks to the sky!
He climbs to the top rope.
JC: Will the Fetu Splash pay off this time?
JR: Waitaminute, Jac!
Joe Rogan is right to interrupt because John Blade has leapt up to the ring apron!
He shoves Fetu to the outside and the Samoan splatters on the ground!
And then John Blade climbs the top rope himself!
By the time he's up, Razor is starting to stir!
He pushes to his hands and knees, and John leaps off with a flying leg drop bulldog!
Razor dodges!
John crashes butt-first into the mat and then Razor immediately starts to scramble. He hooks John under his arm.
Blade Rose!
But John spins around and hoists Razor up!
Death Valley Drop!
One…!
Two…!
Three…!
ELIMINATED: RAZOR BLADE
JC: He got him! John Blade pinned Razor Blade, which means no revenge from Razor for John hitting his friend with a car.
JR: Wait what?
JC: That's a thing that John said happened.
JR: So why is everyone cheering this guy in then? That's vehicular assault! Maybe vehixle manslaughter! Or murder!
JC: I don't know. All I know is that with Razor now out of this match, either John Blade or Jay Fetu will get a chance to redeem themselves after coming up short at Leap of Faith.
In the ring, John Blade allows himself a brief moment to celebrate Razor's elimination. But then his attention turns to the man catching his breath outside the ring.
John and Jay lock eyes.
John rolls out. Fetu uses the barricade to pull himself up. Then… they clash.
John Blade gets the upper hand in an exchange of punches, backing his foe up. But Fetu lets himself take a hit so that he can snatch John's head and smash it face first into the barrier. John staggers but Fetu follows. The referee, meanwhile, begins to count.
One…!
Two…!
Fetu tries to grab John again but gets a back elbow to the midsection for his troubles. John then returns the favour and smashes Fetu off the barrier.
Three…!
Four…!
John Blade continues his assault. He smashes Fetu off the ring apron and “Main Event” rolls into the ring.
Five…!
John Blade follows him in and the ref stops counting.
JC: Good escape from Jay Fetu there.
JR: And now this criminal gets a chance to beat him squarely in the middle of the ring.
JC: Didn't you vote for a criminal to be president?
JR: I didn't vote for John Blade though!
John Blade whips Jay Fetu into the ropes. He has him clearly lined up for a shoulder block, but Fetu grabs the ropes to save himself.
John charges instead. Fetu ducks under a dm swinging arm and darts off to the opposite ropes. John turns around… Fetu Spear!
One…!
Two…!
Three…
No!
The ref points to John Blade's foot and the camera spots that it's on the ropes.
Jay Fetu seethes.
JC: Fetu thought he had him there!
Determined, Fetu drags John Blade away from the ropes and ‘The Champ’ stays down as Fetu climbs the ropes.
Fetu Splash!
But somehow, some way, John Blade snatches Jay Fetu out of mid air.
JC: Holy crap! What strength!
JR: He's gonna hit him with a car!
JC: Pretty sure he's just hoisting him up for it's the Death Valley Drop, but that's still pretty devastating. It put Razor Blade away earlier in the match!
John Blade has Fetu on his shoulders. He throws him off!
But Fetu rolls!
And takes John with him!
School boy roll up!
One…!
Two…!
Three…
!!!
WINNER: JAY FETU
JC: He got him!
JR: Looks like it was John Blade who got hit by a car. Samoan make!
JC: Wow, you're a terrible comedian.
JR: You should see my political takes.
JC: I have. How are you a thing?
Jay Fetu, meanwhile, is very much ‘a thing’, as he his music blares and he climbs to the middle rope, yeeting with the crowd to celebrate.
Her ring music plays and she is appalled by the reaction the fans give her as she heads to the ring, and she spends a lot of needless time arguing with the fans. Eventually she gets in the ring, does her artsy pose, and bows though the fans don't deserve it.
The arena is bathed in a deep red light that brings out the shadows in every nook and cranny as "Deep Set" by Greg Puciato starts to play. Kristoffer Arroyo steps through the entrance way, looking cool and confident behind is bright pink shades. He saunters down to the ring, taking his time and seeming to savor the moment before suddenly exploding into a slide into the ring. He then steps through the ropes onto the ring apron, where he wraps his legs around the middle rope and hangs himself upside down with his arms outstretched like an inverted cross. He smiles for the camera, revealing long sharpened incisors, before sitting up and rolling up and over the top rope and to the canvas. He then proceeds to get to a neutral corner and wait for the contest to begin.
The bell rings and neither of them wastes a breath.
Arroyo throws first. A sharp chop that cracks across Korvayne's chest loud enough to carry to the back row. She answers with a spinning backfist that he ducks underneath, snatching her arm on the way through and driving her face into the canvas with a running STO.
He is back on his feet before she has stopped sliding. Leg sweep catches her on the way up. She goes down again. He drops into a cover immediately, forearm pressing across her jaw.
ONE.
TWO.
Korvayne kicks out hard and rolls to her feet, already reading him, already adjusting.
JC: Arroyo setting the pace immediately, fast and calculated right from the bell.
Korvayne comes back in with a crossbody that catches him clean across the chest and takes them both to the mat. She is on top before the dust settles, forearm across his face, snap suplex right out of the scramble. She hooks the leg.
ONE.
TWO.
Shoulder up.
She doesn't pause for a second. Drags him straight to the corner and crushes him with a stinger splash, steps back, and hits the running bulldog that drives his face hard into the canvas.
JR: She is faster than she looks and meaner than she acts. Arroyo is already in a fight here.
Arroyo rolls to the apron to create space and Korvayne pursues, grabbing him by the hair and dragging him back toward the ring. The referee warns her. She releases with theatrical innocence and shoves him instead.
Arroyo uses the half second of distraction to snatch her arm across the top rope and yank it down hard, the shoulder taking the full impact. He slides back in, scoops the arm, and cranks her into a Fujiwara armbar on the canvas, locking it flat against his hip and leaning back. Korvayne's face presses into the mat.
She claws toward the ropes inch by inch, the hold wrenching the whole way, until her fingers find the bottom rope.
Break forced.
Arroyo releases and immediately hits a leg sweep before she can stand, keeping her grounded.
He drops a knee across her left arm.
Then another.
He pulls her up and drives her into the Crossface, cranking her neck sideways, sitting back with full leverage.
Korvayne strains toward the ropes.
Clawing desperately but manages to get a hold of the bottom rope.
The ref begins the five count for Arroyo to release the hold and he breaks at four.
JC: Arroyo has been targeting that left arm since the opening bell and Korvayne is already feeling the accumulation of it.
Korvayne keeps distance on the reset, circling away from Arroyo's right side. She darts in with a jawbreaker that snaps his head back and follows with an atomic drop that jolts him forward. Before he can recover she is running the ropes.
Standing dropkick.
He staggers.
Running dropkick as he charges back in.
He hits the ropes.
Springboard dropkick on the rebound that sends him stumbling into the corner. She climbs to the top rope without hesitation and the missile dropkick drives him across the ring like he's been fired out of something.
She covers, hooking both legs.
ONE.
TWO.
THRE-NO! Arroyo gets the shoulder up by a margin that makes the crowd groan.
JC: DROPKICK CITY! The full sequence and Arroyo survives by the skin of his teeth!
JR: Every single one of those connected perfectly and he is still in this. Remarkable.
Korvayne pulls her hair back, refocuses, and goes back to the top rope. Arroyo rolls to the floor. She doesn't even blink. She launches a crossbody off the top to the outside that catches Arroyo flush against the barricade, both of them crashing into it with a sound that rattles the ringside area.
The crowd explodes.
Korvayne gets up first, rolls Arroyo back inside, climbs to the top and drops a fist across the back of his neck. She follows immediately with a corner senton that drives the remaining air out of him completely.
Arroyo grabs her wrist on the landing and wrenches her into the Fujiwara armbar for the second time, this time sitting deeper and wrenching harder.
Korvayne slams her free hand into the canvas with frustration and claws toward the ropes.
She is further away this time.
The pain setting in as she digs her heels into the canvas to position herself closer to the ropes.
The crowd builds with every drag of her body across the canvas!
Until she manages to throw her heel onto the rope!
JR: Arroyo going back to that armbar and Korvayne had a much longer journey to the ropes that time.
Arroyo drags her back to center before she can recover and locks in the STF, body weight driving down across the back of her neck.
Korvayne's legs kick against the canvas.
She works her way onto her side, fighting for leverage, and just barely manages to roll him into a pin attempt from the floor.
ONE.
TWO.
Arroyo releases and rolls free before the three.
Both of them are up.
Arroyo whips her hard into the ropes and catches her on the return with a knee lift to the face that snaps her head back. He transitions immediately into Teatro Grottesco, the running knee series balanced on the middle rope, each impact measured and precise, Korvayne's head rocking back with every one. He drops off the rope and reaches for the Snuff Machinery!
Korvayne slips the arm and drives both knees into his chin with-
JC: LEONARDO’S LAMENT!!
The double knee facebuster connects!
JR: Call me a genius here, but I think that’s a play on Arroyo’s Romeo’s Lament
JC: You don’t say, Joe.
Both of them drop!
She covers on the way down.
ONE.
TWO.
THRE-NO!!!
Arroyo's foot finds the bottom rope!
JC: Arroyo escapes with his foot on the rope!
JR: That is the only reason this match is still going. One foot.
Korvayne pulls him up and goes for Malibu's Most Wanted. She hooks the arm, drops for the DDT. Arroyo blocks it, pushing her back into the ropes and reversing position in a scramble, her back now against the buckle. He sets for Romeo's Lament. Spins her out of the corner, the kiss lands, goes to drive her into the canvas and Korvayne twists at the last second, redirecting the momentum so both of them come off the ropes tangled, crashing into the center of the ring in a heap.
Neither of them moves immediately.
The referee looks between them. The crowd rises with the uncertainty of it.
JC: Both of them down and nobody in this building knows who is getting up first!
The referee starts the count.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Korvayne rolls onto her side first, clutching at the arm Arroyo has spent the entire match dissecting.
FOUR!
Arroyo pushes himself to one knee.
FIVE!
Korvayne reaches the ropes and drags herself upright.
SIX!
Both competitors are standing.
The crowd applauds.
Then immediately quiets.
Because both of them know one clean shot might end it.
Korvayne swings first.
A right hand.
Arroyo answers.
A chop.
She fires another forearm.
He answers with another chop.
The exchange escalates.
Forearm.
Chop.
Forearm.
Chop.
Forearm.
Chop.
Until Korvayne suddenly changes levels and kicks him square in the stomach.
Arroyo doubles over.
Korvayne hooks him.
DDT position.
The crowd rises.
JC: MALIBU'S MOST WANTED! SHE'S GOT IT THIS TIME!
She falls backward—
But her damaged left arm buckles.
Just for a second.
Just enough.
Arroyo feels it.
He rips free.
Snatches the arm.
Twists.
And drives a brutal kick directly into the shoulder.
Korvayne screams and drops to a knee.
JR: That's the arm! That's the arm he's been destroying all match!
The opening appears.
Arroyo doesn't hesitate.
He explodes off the ropes.
Running knee.
Korvayne staggers.
Second knee.
She falls into the corner.
Arroyo vaults onto the middle rope.
The crowd comes alive.
JC: TEATRO GROTTESCO!
The first knee lands.
The second.
The third.
The fourth.
The fifth.
Korvayne can barely remain upright.
Arroyo drops back to the canvas.
The smile spreads across his face.
The same smile he wore during his entrance.
The same smile that says he's already seen the ending.
He reaches through Korvayne's legs.
Hooks her waist.
Pulls her out of the corner.
JR: HERE WE GO!
ROMEO'S LAMENT.
The kiss.
The spin.
The sudden lift.
WHAM!
Korvayne is driven violently into the mat!
The ring shakes.
The crowd erupts.
Arroyo doesn't release immediately.
He rolls through.
Maintains wrist control.
Drags her damaged arm behind her back.
And transitions directly into The Fall of Man!
Crossface.
Trapped arm.
Nowhere to go.
Korvayne reaches with her free hand.
Nothing.
She kicks.
Nothing.
She tries to crawl.
Arroyo pulls her farther from the ropes.
The hold cinches tighter.
JC: SHE'S TRAPPED! SHE'S COMPLETELY TRAPPED!
JR: Korvayne's got nowhere left to run!
The crowd begins to buzz.
Some urging her on.
Some realizing what's coming.
Korvayne stretches one last time toward the ropes.
Her fingertips miss by inches.
Arroyo wrenches back.
And finally—
TAP!
TAP!
TAP!
JC: SHE TAPPED! SHE TAPPED!
The bell rings immediately.
DING DING DING!
Winner: Kristoffer Arroyo
Arroyo quickly rolls out of the ring, exhausted but satisfied with his victory.
JC: What a match! What a war between these competitors!
JR: Korvayne took Arroyo to his absolute limit, but Arroyo demonstrated tonight he has the BLOODLUST to do whatever it takes to get the job done!
Korvayne had barely gotten the chance to catch her breath before the Bastards appeared.
The crowd's reaction changed instantly as Charlie Nickles, Jenny Myst, Oz, Asher Hayes, and Jordan Penn stormed down the ramp like a rabid pack of wolves. Pennyfarthing and the Simp moved to intercept them and paid for it immediately.
The numbers were overwhelming.
Pennyfarthing was driven into the barricade before disappearing beneath a flurry of strikes. The Simp managed only a few desperate swings before Oz and Asher folded him up and left him sprawled gelatinously on the floor. Within seconds both of Korvayne's allies were down, leaving her alone in the ring.
The Bastards surrounded the ring and climbed in after her.
Korvayne backed up a few steps, turning to dart away, realizing all her escape routes were blocked. She whirled and caught Jenny with a forearm and shoved Oz backward, trying to create space, but there was simply too many of them. Jordan grabbed her from behind. Asher buried a knee into her ribs. Charlie blasted her with a forearm that sent her stumbling into the ropes.
Every time she found her footing, another Bastard knocked it out from under her. The assault became methodical, designed to hurt her.
Korvayne dropped to one knee.
Jordan immediately hauled her back up.
Oz drove a shot into her stomach.
Jenny shoved her forward.
Straight toward Charlie.
A grin spread across Charlie's face.
He hooked both of Korvayne's arms.
The crowd groaned.
One violent motion later, the Devil Hook Drop planted her face-first into the canvas.
The impact echoed through the arena.
Korvayne crumpled.
Charlie rose slowly while Korvayne struggled to move, one arm trembling beneath her as she tried to push herself upright.
A boot slammed into her side.
Then another.
Then another.
Soon all five Bastards surrounded her, stomping away while she curled in on herself, arms wrapped around her head in a desperate attempt to protect what she could.
The crowd's boos grew louder.
The Bastards didn't care.
Charlie finally stepped back, chest heaving, a cruel grin spreading across his face. He held out a hand. A chair was passed to him. Jordan reached down and grabbed a handful of Korvayne's hair, hauling her roughly upward. She barely had her feet beneath her, dazed and battered, held upright only because Jordan refused to let her fall.
Charlie paraded about, holding the chair in the air tauntingly, before turning back to Korvayne and raising it over his head.
A flash of blonde launched down the ramp.
One second Charlie had the chair, the next, Remi Storm hit him like a missile.
The dropkick landed flush against his chest.
Metal exploded from Charlie's hands and skidded across the canvas. Charlie himself crashed to the mat in a heap. For one stunned heartbeat the entire ring froze.
Remi didn't.
Sliding beneath Jordan's grasp, she hooked an arm around Korvayne and yanked her toward the ropes before anyone's brain caught up with what had happened. The two of them spilled to the floor, Korvayne stumbling badly as Remi dragged her upright and immediately began retreating up the ramp.
The Bastards surged toward the ropes too late.
Charlie was screaming obscenities.
Jordan looked furious.
The rest were no better, snarling threats over the ropes.
Remi's response was simple.
Without breaking stride, she lifted her free hand and extended a single finger toward the ring.
Then she turned her attention back to keeping Korvayne on her feet and continued up the ramp, leaving five furious Bastards behind and their victim firmly out of reach.
Dickie Watson starts in the ring after the commercial break.
Green lasers scatter across the stage.
Graves steps through the curtain with a steel chair in toe.
The drums kick in.
Graves rocks out with the air guitar chair as the lights sweep the arena in a blast of lime and purple.
Graves starts down the ramp in no hurry.
Fans reach out to him and Graves slaps skin.
The cameras catch quick cuts on the XTron of Graves smashing chairs, dancing mid-beating, spraying mist, weapons, blood, ugly mayhem.
He reaches the ring. Stops. Looks around. Then he slides in under the ropes, stands up and rocks out as the song hits—
♪ YOU GOT THE TOUCH — YOU GOT THE POWER ♪
Graves backs into his corner and cracks his neck as the music fades.
JR: Dickie Watson is one of the best pound for pound wrestlers on this roster, Jacuinde. Fast, smart, resilient as anyone I've seen. But Graves is a different kind of problem. He doesn't wrestle you. He just doesn't stop until you're not moving anymore.
JC: Let's see what happens.
The bell rings and Graves comes out of his corner like something has been unleashed. He simply closes the distance between himself and Dickie Watson at full speed and unloads a hammering forearm directly across the side of Dickie's head.
Dickie's neck snaps sideways from the impact and he hits the ropes, bouncing back into a second forearm that folds him at the waist.
Graves grabs him by the back of the head and drives a trapping headbutt into his face, once, twice, a third time, each one landing with the kind of force that accumulates damage faster than any sequence of technical wrestling could.
JC: Graves out of the blocks like a freight train and Dickie Watson has not had a single second to establish himself!
Graves whips Dickie hard into the corner and charges in with a back elbow that drives the air out of the smaller man completely.
Dickie slumps in the buckle.
Graves steps back and slaps him across the face with an open hand, the sound cracking across the arena, before pulling him out of the corner and hitting a neckbreaker that drops Dickie flat. He covers immediately, forearm grinding into Dickie's face during the count.
One!
Two!
Dickie kicks out before the three!
Graves doesn't acknowledge the kickout as anything other than an instruction to keep going.
JR: Graves pins early and often. He's not expecting the two count to end it, he's using them to grind Dickie down and drain whatever energy he has.
Graves hauls Dickie up and delivers a fallaway slam that sends him skidding across the canvas toward the ropes. Dickie hits the bottom rope and uses it immediately, pulling himself upright with the reflexive athleticism of someone whose body has been trained to move before the mind catches up.
He turns into a running spear from Graves that cuts him in half and drives him through the ropes to the floor. The crowd winces at the sound of it.
Dickie lands hard on the outside and stays down for a beat. Two beats. Then his hand moves. Then his knee comes under him.
Graves is already on the floor, picking him up off the ground with one hand and delivering a short headbutt that reopens the separation between Dickie and his equilibrium.
He rolls Dickie back into the ring and follows immediately, covering again.
One!
Two!
Dickie manages to get the shoulder up at two and a half!
JC: How many times is Dickie Watson going to have to kick out tonight? Because Graves is not slowing down at all.
Dickie creates space with a desperation enziguri that catches Graves on the side of the skull and actually stops the big man in his tracks for a moment.
Dickie rolls away, gets some distance, and fires a corkscrew roundhouse kick that snaps Graves' head to one side.
Graves takes a step back.
Dickie bounces off the ropes and hits a running crossbody that sends both men down, Dickie scrambling on top for a cover.
One!
Two!
Graves launches him off with a full body press that sends Dickie airborne!
JR: Dickie getting something going here! The crossbody and a cover but Graves throws him off like he weighs nothing!
Dickie lands on his feet from the launch, bouncing off the ropes again, and this time hits the-
JC: MOLOTOV COCKTAIL!
The 619, the legs connecting clean across Graves' face. Graves staggers backward into the ropes. Dickie springboards off the middle rope with a front dropkick that sends Graves through them and out to the floor, and the crowd rises as Dickie measures the distance, hits the opposite ropes, and launches a cartwheel into a corkscrew suicide senton over the top rope that wipes Graves out completely on the floor. Both men are down on the outside and the referee begins the count.
JC: CORKSCREW SENTON OVER THE TOP ROPE! DICKIE WATSON JUST FLEW AND TOOK GRAVES OUT ON THE FLOOR!
JR: This is what Dickie does. You give him a crack and he makes you pay for it at a hundred miles an hour.
Dickie is up at four, feeding off the crowd noise, and rolls Graves back into the ring.
He goes to the top rope and lines up the Shooting Star Press, waiting for Graves to be in position.
Graves is flat.
Dickie launches.
Graves rolls out of the way and Dickie crashes ribs first into the canvas! The breath leaving him in a single violent expulsion.
Graves is on his feet immediately, pulling Dickie up by the hair, and plants him with a pulling piledriver that drives him headfirst into the mat.
Cover!
One!
Two!
Dickie somehow kicks out!
Graves drives his forearm into Dickie's face during the count and keeps the pressure on it for a full second after the kickout, before the referee physically intervenes.
Graves stands, looks at the referee with the patient detachment, and goes back to work. He locks in the sleeper hold, sitting on Dickie's back, his full weight pinning the smaller man to the canvas.
Dickie's arm goes up.
His arm drops once.
It drops twice.
On the third drop it stops just above the mat, trembling, and Dickie twists his body sideways with everything he has left, creating enough space to drag himself toward the ropes.
JC: He's fighting the sleeper! Dickie Watson is not going out like this!
He reaches the ropes and the hold breaks.
Graves stands over him and looks down, expressionless, and then delivers three hard stomps to the small of Dickie's back before picking him up. Dickie fires a quick strike combination, open-handed chops that crack off Graves' chest one after another, and follows with a rapid jumping neckbreaker that he hits purely on speed and muscle memory.
He covers on pure instinct.
One!
Two!
Graves kicks out with force.
Dickie rolls back to his feet and goes to the top rope again, this time measuring for the Echelon!
He launches, the rotation is clean, and Graves gets both knees up!!
Dickie's ribs find them on the way down and he folds around them with a gasp, rolling to the side and curling inward. Graves is on his feet again. He does not slow down. He does not pause to assess.
He grabs Dickie by the arm, hauls him up, and hits-
JR: GRAVE DIGGER. And Dickie Watson may be done.
One!
Two!
THR-NO!
Dickie rolls the shoulder up!
It is the narrowest of margins, a half-second at most, but it is there and the referee sees it. Graves looks at the referee and the referee holds up two fingers. Graves questions the call before rolling his neck with a low growl coming from under his mask.
He picks Dickie up one more time, hooks him into the crucifix position, and drives him into the canvas with-
JR: GRAVE CONSEQUENCES!!!!
The crucifix powerbomb sends Dickie crumpling onto the mat!
The cover comes down. The forearm drives into Dickie's face.
One!
Two!
THREE!!!!
WINNER - MICHEAL GRAVES!
JC: GRAVES CONSEQUENCES! Micheal Graves wins it! One. Two. Three and it is over!
JR: Dickie Watson gave him everything he had tonight, Jacuinde. The senton, the kickouts, the fight in that sleeper hold. There is nothing to be ashamed of in that performance. Graves is just a different kind of animal and tonight that was the difference.
Graves stands over Dickie Watson, rolls his neck once, and looks out at the arena. Raising a single fist in dominance before we cut to commercial.
The arena lighting dims to black. Pink and silver lightning streak across the screen.
[italics]"She went bad
Made her pretty little world turn black
Miss perfect never had a chance
Threw a middle finger up
She's heading to hell anyway"[/italics]
Twin pink sparkly spotlights hit the entryway as Remi skips out from behind the curtains. She pauses at the top of the ramp, tossing her hair over her shoulder, scanning the screaming audience before her, the Television championship around her waist. With a smile, she scampers down towards the ring as the spotlights follow.
JR: The champ is here, Jacuinde!
JC: Indeed. She beat former Universal champion Bobby Bourbon to win that belt at Leap of Faith. Now, let’s see if she can hold onto it in a triple threat!
Once there, she grabs ahold of a post, swinging around it while blowing a kiss to the camera.
She hops up onto the apron and rolls over the top rope. She crosses to the other side, giving a little shimmy dance as she does. She nimbly leaps onto the turnbuckle, lifting the championship with both hands over her head and flashing a cocky grin. The spotlights cut out, the lighting strobing pink and silver before returning to normal as Remi steps down onto the mat.
“Now, who’s ready to be baptized into a new era of entertainment?!”
The lights go out in the arena as the voice calls out its query. A moment later, bright, twinkling lights like stars scatter across the building.
“Rome wasn’t built in a day
You gotta climb a little higher,
To the top of the display,
Where there’s a will, there’s a way.”
The starlight intensifies as a figure rises from beneath the platform, her back to the crowd, head down. The song continues to echo throughout the arena, electric and intense. Her blonde hair is tied into a tight shark-braid that swings back and forth as she bounces from foot to foot.
“If you want it, just take it,
The world's yours, don’t waste it,
Go make the stars align, to shine-”
The rising platform levels to the arena floor in unison with the beat drop to the song.
“BRIGHTER!”
As the word echoes through the arena, an explosion of sparkling pyrotechnics go off as Betsy Granger throws out her arms, revealing a blue chiffon robe lit with bright stars.
“Brighter than the heavens in the skies above,
(oooh oooh)
You’ll be,
BRIGHTER!"
Twirling gracefully to face the crowd, she points skyward as the lights in the arena flood back on. Betsy bounces twice before half-running, half-skipping down the ramp towards the ring.
[white]JR: Here comes the first challenger! It’s the Impossible Traveler, Betsy Granger!
JC: The former Revolution champion is looking to capture the Television championship here! Can she do it? Can she outlast two other game competitors and grab the win in the fifteen minute time limit?
JR: We’ll find out in tonight’s main event!
"Going supernova, all the eyes look up
(at you, at you)
BRIGHTER!”
The song switches to an instrumental break as she does one complete circuit around the ring. Throwing off her cape on the announcer's table, she dashes towards the ring and jumps onto the apron in a one clean move. Using her momentum, she bounces clean over the top rope and spins on her toes to the center of the ring, arms out wide. As she comes to a stop, the music swells, and the crowd joins in like a devoted choir, just the same as the song itself.
“BRIIIIIIIIIGHTEEEEERRRRRRR”
Betsy grins widely and bounces from foot to foot, ready for the fight.
The lights dim. A low, almost imperceptible hum of static rolls through the speakers. The crowd murmurs, unsure if this is intentional or a tech glitch.
A single cold white spotlight snaps on, not centered on the stage but slightly off to the left, like production missed their cue or Rowan Vance wasn’t where they expected him to be.
Then the unmistakable bassline of “Psycho Killer” by Talking Heads kicks in.
The crowd reacts instantly, some cheering, some laughing at the unexpected choice, all of them paying attention.
Rowan Vance steps into the light.
JR: And here we go! Our final competitor and my pick to win this whole thing, It’s Rowan Vance!
JC: Well, that’s certainly a choice. Personally, I wouldn’t bet against the champ here. She’s got momentum on her side. She beat former XWF and Anarchy tag team champion Jordan Penn in a two-out-of-three falls match on her way to the championship!
JR: Ah yes, the man who got beat by clowns! He wouldn’t last three minutes in the octagon!
JC: Still riding that White House event high, are we?
JR: You would be too, if you were invited.
Hands in his pockets, head slightly tilted. Expression unreadable, like he’s listening to something only he can hear.
He doesn’t pose, he just starts walking. Slow, steady, deliberate. Sometimes a hand will come out to slap fives or fist bump those in the crowd.
Every few steps, he glances over his shoulder, not dramatically, just a subtle, instinctive check, like he heard a footstep behind him.
The spotlight follows him, but always a fraction of a second late, giving the whole thing a slightly off‑kilter, uncanny rhythm.
As he reaches the ramp, the lighting shifts: a faint blue haze rolls across the stage, giving him a silhouette that looks almost doubled, like someone is walking just behind him.
The crowd can’t tell if it’s a trick of the lights or something else.
Rowan reaches ringside. He pauses as the chorus hits that jittery, staccato vocal rhythm.
He still doesn’t position himself for photo opportunities, doesn’t smirk, just stops, his head turning slightly like he’s trying to locate a sound in the rafters.
Then he slides under the bottom rope with the same quiet, fluid motion he does everything else… As he stands, the arena lights flicker, just once.
Not enough to scream “supernatural.” Just enough to make the audience shift in their seats. Rowan doesn’t react, he’s used to it.
He walks to his corner, leans back against the turnbuckles, and waits, hands still in his pockets, eyes scanning the arena like he’s cataloguing every noise, every movement, every pattern.
The music fades. The static hum returns for half a second, then there's silence, and Rowan Vance is ready.
The three competitors eye each other from a triangle formation as the referee lifts the Television title above his head, showing them what they are all fighting for.
JR: The Sword of Damocles! That’s what Betsy called the Television title in her promo, JC!
JC: Do you even know the reference, Joe?
JR: I assume it’s something lame like Lord of the Rings?
JC: Are you seri…ugh, nevermind. Yes, the three of them have been very friendly as of late. It will be interesting to see how that plays out when the title is on the line.
Betsy wastes no time, going straight for Remi. She catches the champion with a tiger feint kick. Remi stumbles. Rowan from behind with a slingblade on Betsy. No! She rolls through the attempt and hoists Vance up with a fallaway slam!
14:00
13:59
13:58
Betsy is up. Remi chops Betsy. Betsy chops her back. Remi with another chop. Betsy once again. Remi goes for an Irish whip. Betsy reverses, sending Remi into the corner. Betsy runs toward Remi. She measures, aims and single leg dropkick as Remi tries to escape the corner! Remi gets sent back first into the turnbuckles. The champ falls face first to the canvas.
JC: It’s been all Betsy Granger so far here tonight.
JR: Rowan is just biding his time, waiting for his moment, I assure you.
[white]13:00
12:59
12:58
Armdrag from Rowan Vance to Betsy. Betsy comes back and tackles Rowan. She showers him with punches, which he tries to block by putting his arms up. Rowan finds his moment and rolls over, into a sleeper hold. He locks it in tight.
JR: I don’t mean to say I told you so, but my boy Rowan here looks like he’s gonna end it early.
JC: I wouldn’t be too sure. Betsy won’t give up that easily and neither will Remi.
Rowan cinches in the hold and pulls back as Betsy struggles. He looks to try to make her tap. But here comes Remi! Diving double foot stomp off the top rope onto both opponents. Remi goes for the cover on Betsy.
1…
2…
Rowan breaks up the pin at the last second!
12:30
12:29
12:28
All three competitors are on their feet and circling. Rowan does a quick nod of acknowledgement to Remi. Remi motions with a finger pinch and mouths “this close.” Betsy does a quick hand clap as she looks in Remi’s direction. Rowan charges toward Remi. She dodges running forearm. Betsy catches Remi by surprise with a reverse roundhouse kick. Leg lariat from Rowan to Betsy!
JC: Fast and furious action here tonight. They all seem so evenly matched!
JR: It may be all about family and friendships, but when push comes to shove, it’s about only one coming out of this as the Television champion.
JC: Right, and after losing the Revolution title, Betsy has to be eager to regain championship gold here in the XWF.
11:30
11:29
11:28
Rowan and Betsy are brawling back and forth. Punches and kicks land from both sides in quick succession. Betsy goes to whip Rowan into the corner. Rowan turns it around. Betsy goes full speed into the corner and runs right into Remi, who was standing on the top of the ring post. Remi takes a gnarly spill to the outside. Rowan looks concerned and slides out of the ring to check on Remi on the floor. Betsy stumbles out of the corner inside the ring. She looks out over the ropes, where Rowan is still checking on an unresponsive Remi Storm.
JC: Things are not looking good for the champion, here, Joe.
JR: Sure, but the Impossible Traveler needs to focus and capitalize on the situation.
Betsy springboards and flies. Rowan turns just in time to be flattened by a meteora!
10:00
9:59
9:58
Betsy and Rowan take the fight inside the ring. They trade punches. Rowan with a snap DDT! He covers! 1..kickout! Betsy is up. Backflip kick from Betsy sends Rowan reeling. She grabs his head. Snapmare driver!
JC: There it is! The Galactic Advantage!
JR: Now is the time! She can win the Television title right here without the current champion being involved!
JC: That’s the danger of a triple threat! The champion can lose without being pinned or submitted!
Betsy grabs his legs. She pulls back, launches him face first to the mat, rolls through into an indian deathlock, the bridge…Tuez les étoiles! She locks in her finisher as she stretches Vance and pulls back on the neck. The referee checks to see if he will tap. He’s refusing, but slowly losing consciousness. But here comes Remi Storm! She’s on the top turnbuckle. She turns, jumps, twisting on the way down with wild velocity.
JC: Twisted Tempest onto Betsy, who had Rowan moments from passing out!
[white]JR: The champion is back in action, baby! Down, but not out!
7:00
6:59
6:58
Remi rolls Betsy out of the ring. She covers Rowan. 1…
2…
2.999…No! Rowan gets a shoulder up at the last second!
Remi doesn’t let up. She hits Rowan with a series of forearms to the face. She gets up and stomps Vance. Remi goes onto the apron. Springboard shooting star press! She pins. But Granger breaks it up!
5:00
4:59
4:58
JC: We are entering the final five minutes of this championship match!
JR: And somehow all three of them still have enough left in the tank to steal this thing!
Remi fires a forearm into Betsy.
Betsy answers with one of her own.
Rowan slips between them and catches both women with a double clothesline.
Nobody goes down.
Remi rebounds with a superkick to Rowan.
Rowan staggers.
Betsy springboards—
Tiger feint kick!
Remi tumbles through the ropes to the apron.
Betsy turns—
SNAP DDT FROM ROWAN!
JC: Vance planting Granger right on her head!
He hooks a leg.
1...
2...
Kickout!
The crowd roars.
3:00
2:59
2:58
Remi launches herself back into the ring with a springboard crossbody that wipes both challengers out.
She scrambles up first.
Forearm to Betsy.
Forearm to Rowan.
Another to Betsy.
Another to Rowan.
The champion is rolling.
She grabs Rowan.
Twisted Tempest—
NO!
Rowan shoves her away.
Remi lands on her feet.
Betsy catches her with Galactic Advantage!
The snapmare driver spikes the champion.
The crowd erupts.
JR: NEW CHAMPION! NEW CHAMPION!
Betsy dives into the cover.
1...
2...
ROWAN DRAGS BETSY OFF!
JC: Vance just saved the championship!
JR: Saved it for himself!
1:30
1:29
1:28
All three competitors are exhausted now.
Every movement hurts.
Every strike lands heavier.
Betsy throws a chop.
Rowan answers.
Another.
Another.
Remi tries to join the exchange but stumbles into the corner, barely able to stand.
The crowd begins counting down the final minute.
JC: Somebody has to make something happen right now!
Betsy swings wild.
Rowan ducks underneath.
Waistlock.
German suplex!
No!
Betsy lands on her feet.
Roundhouse kick!
Rowan ducks again.
Waistlock reapplied.
The crowd rises.
JR: HE'S GOT HER!
Betsy fights.
Elbows.
Another elbow.
Another.
Rowan hangs on.
0:45
0:44
0:43
He lifts.
Betsy flips through.
Rollup!
1...
2...
Rowan escapes!
Both scramble up.
0:20
0:19
0:18
Betsy charges.
Rowan sidesteps.
Waistlock.
Bridge.
Launch!
THE VANISHING POINT!
Dragon suplex into a perfect bridge!
The crowd explodes.
JC: VANISHING POINT! VANISHING POINT!
The referee slides into position.
1...
2...
The hand comes down for three—
REMIIIII!!!
The champion dives across the ring and crashes into both competitors an instant before the count lands!
The bridge breaks!
The crowd comes unglued!
JR: SHE SAVED IT! SHE SAVED THE TITLE!
JC: HOW CLOSE WAS THAT?!
BZZZZZZT!
[DING! DING! DING!]
The bell rings.
The crowd immediately begins buzzing.
TIME LIMIT DRAW
JC: That's it! Time has expired!
JR: We are out of time! Rowan had it won! He had it won!
The referee helps Remi sit up.
The Television Championship is brought into the ring.
The official confers briefly before handing the belt to the champion.
JC: Under Television Championship rules, the title can only change hands by pinfall or submission before the expiration of the time limit. Since no fall was recorded before time expired, Remi Storm retains the championship!
Remi clutches the title against her chest, breathing heavily.
Across the ring Rowan sits against the ropes, staring at the referee in disbelief.
Betsy remains flat on the canvas, knowing she was a fraction of a second away from defeat.
JR: I don't know whether Rowan should be angry at Remi or impressed by her.
JC: That's what champions do, Joe. She survived. Maybe barely, but she survived.
JR: And now all three of them are going to spend the next week wondering what would've happened with one more second on the clock.
Remi slowly rises and raises the Television Championship overhead.
The crowd applauds all three competitors as the champion stands tall, having retained by the narrowest margin imaginable.
THANKS TO
OUR MATCH WRITERS
Solomon Kline
Peter Principle
Atticus Gold
ELO
OUR SEGMENT WRITERS
Remi Storm / Korvayne / Charlie Nickles
![[Image: jade-cargill-wwe-backlash-2024-v0-a2gyOH...55dd69bd0c]](https://external-preview.redd.it/jade-cargill-wwe-backlash-2024-v0-a2gyOHlkd3k5d3ljMbtwneIZOfvDqBBYgYhDL5XpDmPJISWfl3wAaXjMnycM.png?width=640&crop=smart&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=97b189a5a4bf863dcc08aaf0a59e5655dd69bd0c)
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![[Image: hqdefault.jpg]](https://i.ytimg.com/vi/y85EELaYGps/hqdefault.jpg)
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