RAZOR BLADE
- vs -
BOBBY SALES
- vs -
MARISOL VILARO
TRIPLE THREAT!
FRANCES MARIGOLD
- vs -
KRISTOFFER 'VAMP' ARROYO
FIRST BLOOD MATCH!
MR. OZ
- vs -
SOLOMON KLINE
- vs -
SUMMER PAGE
- vs -
REGGIE ESTRADA
#1 CONTENDER'S X-TREME RULES ELIMINATION MATCH!
The winner of this elimination match will become the #1 contender to the Revolution Championship! No count-outs, no DQs, and no mercy!
JENNY MYST
- vs -
XXXVI
#1 CONTENDER'S LADDER MATCH!
A contract for a shot at the Anarchy Championship is hanging in a briefcase above the ring. Whoever retrieves the contract, will become the new #1 contender to the Anarchy Championship!
A modified lumberjack match! Deena Hixx, Latoya Hixx, Razor Blade, and El Landerson will be acting as lumberjacks outside the ring.
If John Blade wins, he becomes the new Revolution Champion!
If Betsy Granger wins, no one present at ringside can ever challenger her for the Revolution Championship again!
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. Kris calls for a mic after all that pageantry and gets one in short order.
Greetings ladies and gentlebeings. I have an important announcement to make.
He pauses for effect.
I’m gonna murder the fuck out of Samael Dyson.
HUGE POP FROM THE CROWD!
Kris smirks at the response.
And I, along with my esteemed colleague Michael Graves, are going to start with the Rollerwhores on the very next episode of Anarchy. Although, I’ve heard a vicious, vicious rumor. You see, I’ve heard that Samael and his associates are boycotting defending their titles until the powers that be can guarantee their safety from me.
A round of boos!
I mean…heh…they’re RIGHT to! But that doesn’t make for very entertaining television now does it? Which is why I’d like to summon BIG DICK LICHTER out to the ring to tell us all what he plans to do about that. Dick? Are you listening?
There is a few moments pause, but then the opening theme to Anarchy hits and Bid Dick Lichter appears! He makes his way down to the ring (takes him a bit longer mind you) and stomps confidently up the ring steps until he gets in the ring. Already with a mic in hand, Lichter starts to speak.
Oh, I hear you big man! I hear you! And I think I have a solution to this little dilemma that you’re gonna like. And it goes a little something like this: If the Rollerwhores no show their title defense on the next episode of Anarchy, they are hereby STRIPPED of the titles, and they will be awarded automatically to you, sir, and Michael Graves!
The fans pop and Kris nods his head in appreciation. Big Dick holds up a pudgy little finger, implying he isn’t done.
Furthermore! If the Rollerwhores no show, they and Samael Dyson are all banned from Anarchy FOREVER!
Another big pop from the crowd!
Samael Dyson, listen up! The Anarchy Tag Titles arent like those OTHER tag titles. We DEFEND our tag team championships here on Anarchy! So if you want a hope in hell of retaining, you’ll make sure your girls bring their pretty little asses to the show in two weeks, or suffer the consequences! As for you Vamp….
Big Dick turns to Kris, who quirks an eyebrow.
I know you’re hoppin’ mad about getting shot in the head. Hell, I would be too. BUT! I cannot allow you to KILL anyone on my show! I mean, the insurance premiums will go through the fucking roof! The advertisers will revolt!
This draws a smattering of boos from the crowd.
So I need you to promise me: NO MURDER!
Kris looks to the crowd with a distinctly unimpressed expression before turning back to Dick.
[pink}Okay Dick, I solemnly swear not to kill anyone….on XWF property. [/pink]
Dick shoots Kris a side eye at first before offering his hand up for a handshake.
Works for me.
Kris and Dick shake hands and then Dick gestures to Kris, driving up some pops for him as Kris goes to the corner turnbuckle and gesticulates to the fans, pantomiming a title around his waste.
TODD: Folks, welcome to another edition of Thursday Night Anarchy! We’re kicking things off with an absolute banger!
BAMA: There’s no denying it, Toddrick! The current Anarchy champion has had nine lives in terms of claiming unlikely wins over some very game competitors! But now, she’s not stepping into the ring with a wrestler. This kitty’s wandering in to the EYE OF THE STORM!
TODD: …This entrance sure takes a while.
BAMA: And the Mona Lisa sure took a lot of strokes, pipe down Toddy baby, I’m trying to drink it in…
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!
TODD: What a year for Latoya Hixx! This year she’s claimined her first PPV victory and she’s actually won a few number one contender’s match to vie for championships belts!
BAMA: Latoya’s stock has certainly risen, Toddrick! That’s why she was given this match. And while it is non-title, one must believe if and WHEN Latoya gets the job done, she’ll be handed the Anarchy title?
TODD: Handed the belt, Bama? You’re not even thinking she’ll get a championship match? They’ll just give her the belt?
BAMA: It goes without saying I assume she’s going to take all of Miss Furry’s nine lives in this match!
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!
…
The lights dim as the opening drums of She's My Collar roll through the arena. Miss Furry steps out slowly, but doesn’t acknowledge the crowd.
TODD: Not nearly as much pomp and circumstance as Latoya Hixx’s entrance, but you cannot deny the results! Miss Furry has gone undefeated in her Anarchy run, managing to pin Mister Oz and even claiming a win over an XWF Legend in Centurion at March Madness!
BAMA: It’s been a Cinderella run for sure, Toddrick. But in every cinderella run, the clock has to strike midnight and the cat carriage’s gotta turn back into a litterbox. Furry’s gotten some big wins in some novelty matches, but now, she’s going one-on-one, mano e mano with THE STORM!
She calmly walks the ramp and slips between the ropes with minimal effort. She settles into the corner, leaning back casually, licking her paw and cleaning herself in preparation of the upcoming match.
Storm looks like at the half-pint wrestler with much less musculature and physique than her and scoffs… She steps to the center of the ring and flexes her bice-
WHAM! Furry steps up and delivers a dropkick straight to the chin of the Latoya Hixx!
Latoya staggers two full steps back but keeps her footing… She pats her chin like… there’s no way this dead bitch just did that.
TODD: Furry showing no fear here! She’s had her successes in the XWF, not because she’s unbeatable, because she sees her opportunities and she takes full advantage of them! And she saw an opportunity there for a quick strike to the Storm!
Furry does a backward somersault from the mat to quickly and agilely return to a vertical ba-
THWACK! Latoya sprints forward with a decapitating lariat!
Furry does two full rotations in mid-air before landing on her face on the mat!
BAMA: And here I thought cats were supposed to land on their feet! Look at the strength! The sheer power that is Latoya Hixx in the ring!
Latoya Hixx pulls Furry up with a fistful of hair before shoving her back against the corner! Furry’s skull rebounds against the turnbuckle!
Hixx pumps her fist in the air before charging in with a…
RUNNING BOOT TO THE CORNER!
…But Furry dives low!
And Hixx’s boot propels over the turnbuckle, crotching her along the top rope!
TODD: Ouch! Latoya looked like an NFL punter looking to set a record for distance! But Miss Furry had other ideas!
Hixx tries to retrieve her leg back from the ropes…
But not before she pulls a…
NECKBREAKER! Dragging Latoya from the turnbuckle back down to the mat!
TODD: Wow! That was an impressive maneuver! All technique! Maybe Micheal Graves does actually teach his students something!
Latoya cradles her neck, writhing on the mat as Furry crawls over her and into the cover!
ONE!
TW-LATOYA KICKS OUT AT ONE!
BAMA: Shoulda known that wouldn’t be enough! You can’t put down a storm, ya just gotta weather it until it consumes ya!
Miss Furry curls like a feline eyeing a larger than usual prey, as she skulks over Latoya…
Latoya’s already powering up to one knee…
TODD: Latoya’s looking mad that she even let Furry score a one-count on her!
BAMA: And now that kitty is going to get de-clawed!
Latoya tries to shove her back off the mat to a vertical base!
But Furry stops her as she rises with a…
SHOOT KICK TO THE CHEST!
Another!
Another!
The sharp strikes echo through the arena as Latoya absorbs them, each one knocking her back another inch!
TODD: Furry clawing at Hixx with those kicks! Each one has to be sapping the life out o-
Until Hixx suddenly SNATCHES the fourth kick out of midair!
[blue]TODD: Uh oh!
BAMA: Think ya mighta spoke too soon there, Toddrick!
Furry’s eyes widen—
Latoya YANKS her straight up into the air with frightening ease!
MILITARY PRESS POSITION! Latoya has hoisted Furry over her head like Hixx is an adult playing with a child!
The crowd gasps as Furry’s body rises nearly overhead!
BAMA: THERE IT IS! THAT’S THAT STORM STRENGTH! THE STORM IS A BREWING AND FURRY’S GOTTA GET SET TO GET WET!
Furry twists wildly in her grip, trying to escape—
But Latoya walks her toward the center of the ring…
AND THROWS HER HALFWAY ACROSS IT!
Furry crashes hard across the canvas and tumbles underneath the bottom rope to the outside floor!
TODD: Good LORD! Latoya launched the Anarchy champion!
BAMA: Like a category five wind hurling a stopsign through a car windshield!
The referee begins his count as Latoya paces in the ring, fired up now, adrenaline coursing through her veins.
FOUR!
FIVE!
Outside, Furry pulls herself up using the apron. Her back is clearly bothering her after the landing.
Latoya sneers angrily… She goes to exit the ring, but the official blocks her with his body, continuing to count!
SIX!
SEV-
FWOOP! Latoya SHOVES the official into the ropes and out of her way!
BAMA: No one wants to be in the Storm’s way tonight, Toddrick!
Before the official even has time to admonish Latoya, Hixx is already sprinting back off the ropes!
Furry’s upright and watching as Hixx immediately explodes toward her!
SUICIDE LARIAT THROUGH THE ROPES!
…but Furry drops flat to the padded concrete at the last second!
Latoya’s momentum carries her CLEAN THROUGH THE ROPES—
AND SHE SMASHES SHOULDER-FIRST INTO THE BARRICADE!
TODD: AGAIN! AGAIN Miss Furry uses Latoya’s aggression against her!
BAMA: That barricade might have moved three feet from that impact!
Latoya stumbles backward clutching her shoulder—
Furry springs onto the apron from the floor like a cat leaping across a bookshelf…
Latoya squeezes her shoulder, still in pain as Furry grabs the ropes, giving herself a beat to steady her footing!
BAMA: What the hell is that alley cat about to try here, Toddrick!?!
Furry takes a deep breath…
As Latoya finally untangles herself out of the barricade…
Furry… LEAPS off the apron to the second rope!
…And backflips off it!
SPRINGBOARD MOONSAULT TO THE FLOOR!
CRASH! Both women hit hard on the outside!
TODD: HOLY SHIT! I didn’t know Furry had a move like that in her!
For a little while, both Furry and Hixx lay on the outside… but Furry is first to rise, scrambling up first, clutching at Latoya’s arm…
TODD: Furry realizes Latoya’s biggest strength is… well, her strength! And she’s trying to weaken Latoya’s arms to prevent the Storm from tossing her around any longer!
Furry SLAMS Hixx’s shoulder repeatedly against the barricade!
THUNK!
THUNK!
THUNK!
[blue]TODD: There’s that cerebral side to Miss Furry! Working to neutralize the power advantage!
Furry traps the arm over the barricade and pulls back viciously, stretching the shoulder joint!
Latoya roars in pain and swings wildly with her free arm—
But Furry slips underneath it!
LOW DROPKICK TO THE KNEE!
Latoya collapses down to one knee beside the barricade!
TODD: I don’t think anyone could have seen this coming, but so far, Miss Furry has taken a clear advantage against Latoya!
Latoya manages to SHOVE Furry away long enough to hopefully recover
Furry sees her opening, using the momentum from Latoya’s shove to sprint back toward the apron—
She leaps!
TODD: Miss Furry! Possibly seeking another aerial maneuver here![/blue
RUNNING METEORA OFF THE APRON—
NO!
LATOYA CATCHES HER IN MID-AIR!
The audience erupts!
[blue]TODD: HOW DID SHE DO THAT?!
Furry desperately claws at Latoya’s face trying to escape—
But Latoya growls through it, muscles bulging as she adjusts her grip…
RUNNING POWERSLAM! ON THE OUTSIDE FLOOR!
The impact is disgusting.
Furry bounces off the thin padding and crumples into a heap.
Even Latoya looks a little stunned by the sheer violence of it.
BAMA: THAT’S the Eye of the Storm, baby! That right there!
Latoya rolls her opponents under the bottom rope, following her into the ring…
Furry squeezes her aching shoulder, rolling over and over until she’s beside the ropes…
Latoya sneers confidently, following Miss Furry as she pitifully retreats, before stopping on the other side of the ring. Latoya flexes as she plants a boot on Furry’s chest!
The official counts!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
BAMA: HAHA! Latoya did it! She beat the Anarchy champion!
…
Wait no!
Furry managed to slide her foot under the rope!
TODD: More cerebral work by the Anarchy champion! She broke the pinfall in such a way that I think Latoya doesn’t realize she didn’t just win! Furry has a little time to recover here!
Latoya raises her arms, flexing to the crowd, as the official shakes his head, trying to explain why the match must continue…
Meanwhile, Furry cradles her gut, slowly rising to one knee…
Latoya turns around… as the official finally manages to get her to understand that she hasn’t won yet! Her eyes contort with fury as she spins back toward Furry…
BAMA: Lotta good that rope break did! Furry still looks like the cat that got eaten by a giant canary!
Furry’s blinking… breathing heavily… looking like she’s out on her feet… Or she would if she wasn’t on her knees…
Latoya smirks confidently as she goes to squeezes Furry in a Bear Hug!
…
But Furry manages to trap Latoya in a side headlock!
INSIDE CRADLE!
TODD: That’s the 9th Life! Furry was playing possum!
BAMA: I thought she was a feline! Not a rodent!
ONE!
TWO!
THR-NO! Latoya forces a shoulder up!
Latoya reels back against the ropes as Furry rises up, having found her second wind!
Latoya springs off the ropes looking for a match-ending…
BICYCLE KICK!
…
But Furry ducks it!
Latoya turns around as Furry leaps!
NINE LIVES LOST! (Cutter!)
TODD: OH MY GOD! FURRY HIT IT!
Hixx’s skull rebounds HARD off the mat as she springs onto her back, mouth agape, eyes staring at the rafters…
Furry doesn’t waste a second hooking the leg!
The official counts!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Winner: Miss Furry!
TODD: What a victory! Latoya Hixx used her size and strength advantage masterfully! But while Latoya could outpower Furry, she couldn’t outthink Furry! THAT is why she’s the Anarchy champ and she just proved it with a very impressive win!
The lights goes out and hear a voice saying Wrestling has one royal family and when Kingdom hit's fireworks burst open and Razor Blade comes out wearing a American nightmare outfit and left his arms in the mid air and fist pumps in a fake air and he saw a kid wearing a Blake shirt and he takes off his American nightmare belt off his waist in hands it to the XWF fan and climbs up the steps in hops on the turnbuckle and raises both arms in the air and more fireworks burst once again and he gets inside of the ring and climbs on the top rope taunts some more and gets down and takes off his American nightmare jacket and prepares for a fight
Bobby cripwalks his way to the ring.
The sythinzied beat of Shake it Off By Taylor Swift begins to play over the public address system, as the opening lyrics soon begin, as the fans boo and flashes going off, people are waiting for the arrival of the Fitness Queen herself.
I stay out too late
Got nothing in my brain
That's what people say, mm-mm
That's what people say, mm-mm
As a spotlight is on the entrance ramp and the lights dim, first stepping out is none other than the legendary Snarktopus Nessa Wall, who smiles brightly before trash talking the fans as she smiles, before ordering a couple of stage hands to come out they each have a mirror in hand they face the entrance ramp, as soon out from the back steps La Marvillosa herself Marisol Vilaro.
I go on too many dates
But I can't make 'em stay
At least that's what people say, mm-mm
That's what people say, mm-mm
Marisol stops to admire herself in each mirror posing and showing off, what her hard work has given her and mouthing about how she’s the inspiration these out-of-shape people need. After a few moments of posing she brushes right past, giving her manager/mentor a hug before they head off with Nessa leading the way taking the time to give the fans at ringside a hard time for even trying to touch them.
But I keep cruisin'
Can't stop, won't stop movin'
It's like I got this music in my mind
Sayin' it's gonna be alright
Marisol herself takes the time to pose some more showing off her muscle, and trying to sell them on the VilaroFit mission, and how they need it to improve themselves, As the devious duo soon make their way toward the ring side area Nessa soon goes up the ring steps and takes the time to bark orders at the referee, showing him exactly how lower the ropes for herself, and her client, after being lectured by the Ambitchous one, the referee complies doing it exactly as Nessa demanded enters the ring and motions for Marisol to go up the steps, as she climbs up the steps she takes each moment to keep shilling her products, which doesn’t endear her to the fans, as she soon enters the ring under the rope and soon she rudely brushes past the referee as Nessa presents her to the booing fans as she raises her arms high in the air soaking in the boos, and catcalls.
'Cause the players gonna play, play, play, play, play
And the haters gonna hate, hate, hate, hate, hate
Baby, I'm just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake
I shake it off, I shake it off (hoo-hoo-hoo)
Heartbreakers gonna break, break, break, break, break
And the fakers gonna fake, fake, fake, fake, fake
Baby, I'm just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake
I shake it off, I shake it off (hoo-hoo-hoo)
Marisol then does a series of poses once again before turning around and gracing the other side of the area raising her arms high in the air and then doing a similar series of poses showing off her physique and how in shape she is. While Nessa claps her client before they head into their corner, and Nessa is getting Marisol psyched and going over the game plan as they wait for the opponent to enter.
DING! DING! DING!
The three competitors step out of their corners slowly, each one sizing up the other two.
They begin to circle, waiting for one to make their move.
Marisol darts in first, feinting toward Razor, then pivoting toward Bobby with a quick low kick. Bobby checks it and swings a heavy right hand, but Marisol slips under it and backs away. Razor steps in behind her and fires a stiff kick to her thigh. Marisol winces and turns—
-and Bobby blasts Razor with a shoulder block that knocks him back a step.
TODD: All three feeling each other out here.
BAMA: Ain’t gonna last long. Someone’s gonna swing for real.
Razor swings first, lunging at Bobby with a looping hook. Bobby ducks under it and grabs Razor around the waist, lifting him for a takedown, but Razor hammers elbows into Bobby’s back until he drops him. Razor fires a quick knee into Bobby’s ribs, then turns—
and Marisol cracks him with a sharp roundhouse kick to the side of the head.
Razor stumbles. Marisol hits the ropes and rebounds with a running dropkick that sends Razor rolling out of the ring.
Bobby steps in behind her and grabs her around the waist, lifting her for a German suplex. Marisol flips out mid‑air and lands behind him, stumbling but upright. Bobby turns—
and Marisol hits a palm strike straight to his jaw.
Bobby staggers back, surprised.
Marisol charges, but Bobby catches her with a sudden scoop slam, planting her hard in the center of the ring. He drops into a quick cover.
ONE!
Marisol kicks out and rolls away.
Razor slides back into the ring and charges Bobby, tackling him into the corner. Razor unloads with rapid‑fire body shots, fists thudding into Bobby’s ribs. Bobby shoves him off, but Razor rushes back in with a running knee to the gut.
Marisol sprints in behind Razor and jumps, hitting a dropkick to Razor’s back that sends him crashing into Bobby again. Bobby stumbles out of the corner, and Marisol grabs him by the head, running up the turnbuckles for a tornado DDT—
—but Bobby plants his feet and blocks it, tossing her off mid‑rotation.
Marisol crashes to the mat, rolling to the apron.
Razor charges Bobby again, but Bobby catches him with a spinebuster that shakes the ring.
TODD: Big impact from Sales!
BAMA: Razor felt that in his soul.
Bobby covers Razor.
ONE!
TWO—
Razor kicks out.
Bobby drags Razor up and whips him into the ropes. Razor rebounds and ducks under a clothesline, hits the opposite ropes, and comes back with a flying forearm that knocks Bobby flat. Razor kips up, the crowd popping as he hits the ropes again and drops a leg across Bobby’s chest.
He covers.
ONE!
TWO—
Marisol dives in and breaks it up.
Razor rises, annoyed, and swings at Marisol. She ducks under it and fires a kick into his ribs, then another, then a spinning back kick that forces Razor to stumble. She grabs Razor’s wrist and whips him toward the ropes, but Razor reverses and sends her running instead.
Marisol rebounds—
—and Bobby Sales steps in and catches her mid‑stride, lifting her into a tilt‑a‑whirl backbreaker.
Marisol arches in pain as Bobby stands over her, smirking.
Razor charges Bobby from behind, but Bobby turns and catches him too, lifting Razor into a fireman’s carry. Razor elbows him repeatedly until he drops him. Razor hits the ropes and rebounds with a running knee—
—but Bobby sidesteps and Razor crashes into the turnbuckles.
Marisol is back up. She sprints toward Bobby and leaps, hitting a flying knee that snaps his head back. Bobby drops to a knee. Marisol hits the ropes again, rebounds, and nails him with a running dropkick that sends him rolling out of the ring.
Razor steps out of the corner and charges Marisol. She ducks under his clothesline and hits a low kick to his calf. Razor drops to one knee. Marisol grabs his head and hits a snap DDT, planting him in the center of the ring.
She covers.
ONE!
TWO—
Razor kicks out.
Marisol rises, breathing hard, shaking out her arms. Razor pushes up slowly, clutching his head. Marisol grabs him and pulls him upright, firing a sharp elbow into his jaw. Razor answers with a forearm. Marisol hits a knee. Razor hits a kick. They trade again, faster, harder, neither backing down.
Bobby slides back into the ring behind them.
He grabs both by the back of the head and smashes their skulls together. Both collapse to the mat. Bobby drags Razor up first, lifting him into a vertical suplex and holding him there for a long moment before dropping him hard.
Marisol rises behind him and jumps onto Bobby’s back, locking in a sleeper hold. Bobby thrashes, trying to shake her off, but Marisol tightens her grip, legs wrapped around his waist.
Razor rises and sees the opening. He charges and hits a running dropkick to Bobby’s chest. The impact sends Bobby crashing backward, crushing Marisol beneath him.
All three are down.
TODD: Bodies everywhere!
BAMA: That’s a car crash, Todd. A beautiful one.
Razor is the first to rise, shaking out his arms. He grabs Marisol and pulls her up, whipping her into the ropes. She rebounds and Razor leaps for a flying knee—
—but Marisol slides under him and pops up behind him, hitting a sharp kick to the back of his leg. Razor drops to one knee. Marisol hits the ropes and rebounds with a running knee to the side of his head.
Razor collapses.
Marisol covers.
ONE!
TWO—
Bobby Sales yanks her off by the ankle.
Marisol spins and kicks him in the face from the mat. Bobby stumbles back. Marisol kips up and charges him, firing a flurry of strikes—kicks, elbows, knees—each one landing clean.
Bobby swings a heavy fist. Marisol ducks under it and hits a spinning back kick to his ribs. Bobby doubles over. Marisol hits the ropes—
—but Razor Blade intercepts her with a running clothesline that flips her inside out.
Razor covers her.
ONE!
TWO!
Bobby breaks it up with a stomp to Razor’s back.
Razor rises and shoves Bobby. Bobby shoves him back. Razor swings. Bobby blocks it and fires a right hand. Razor answers with a knee. Bobby hits a forearm. Razor hits a kick. They trade, the crowd roaring with every strike.
Marisol rises behind them.
She sprints toward both men—
—and hits a double dropkick, sending Razor and Bobby flying in opposite directions.
The crowd erupts.
Marisol rises, chest heaving, eyes locked on both opponents.
Razor pushes up first, clutching his ribs. Marisol charges him and hits a running knee that sends him collapsing into the ropes. Bobby rises next, shaking out his jaw. Marisol turns toward him—
—and Bobby swings for a lariat.
Marisol ducks under it, grabs his arm, and pulls him into a snap STO, planting him hard.
Razor stumbles out of the corner.
Marisol sees him.
She steps in, hooks his head, and drives him down with La Mala Influencia!
Razor is out.
Marisol covers.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
WINNER - MARISOL VILARO
Marisol Vilaró rises to her feet, exhausted but victorious, the crowd roaring as her hand is raised.
TODD: MARISOL VILAROMAXXED HER WHY TO A WELL DESERVED WIN!blue]
[blue]BAMA: She earned every second of that, Toddy. Hell of a fight.
Marisol stands tall in the center of the ring, breathing hard, sweat dripping, but smiling — the winner of a brutal, competitive triple threat.
Frances Marigold stumbles out onto the stage.
He’s already got a cigarette hanging from his lips, lighter flicking as he walks. He takes a drag mid-stride, exhales, and squints down at the ring like he’s mildly inconvenienced to be here at all.
Todd: "And here we go… First Blood Match. The only way to win is to make your opponent bleed."
Bama T: "And you got a vampire in one corner. I don’t know, Todd, that feels like a built-in advantage."
Frances flicks the cigarette to the side… then immediately pulls another one from behind his ear and lights it as he walks down the ramp.
Todd: "I don’t even know if Frances Marigold fully understands the danger he’s walking into right now."
Bama T: "Or maybe he just doesn’t care. That’s sometimes worse."
Frances rolls into the ring, takes another drag, and casually leans back in the corner.
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.
Todd: “A Vampire…in a first blood match. He just seems like he’s at a massive advantage in tonight’s match. I’m not sure how Marigold is supposed to win this!
Bama T: “If you ask Arroyo…Frances isn’t supposed to win! He’s just another lamb that Lichter’s sending to the slaughter!”
Todd: “May the Lord have mercy on his soul…because I don’t think Kristoffer will!”
FRANCES MARIGOLD
- vs -
KRISTOFFER 'VAMP' ARROYO
FIRST BLOOD MATCH!
Highlight Reel
DING DING
Kristoffer explodes with a running knee straight to Frances’ face, snapping his head back into the turnbuckles.
Todd: "AND ARROYO WASTES NO TIME!"
Frances collapses forward, barely conscious already as Kristoffer grabs him by the hair and DRIVES repeated forearms into his skull.
Once. Twice. Again. Again.
Frances drops to a knee.
Kristoffer tilts his head, studying him… then delivers a vicious kick to the side of the head that sends Frances sprawling.
Bama T: "This might be quick. I’m not even joking."
Kristoffer kneels beside him, almost methodical now, dragging his fingernails across Frances’ forehead, trying to break skin.
Frances weakly swats at him—
Kristoffer grabs his wrist and STOMPS it into the mat.
Frances howls.
Todd: "He’s not even trying to pin him—he’s just trying to open him up!"
Bama T: "That’s the match, Todd! First one to bleed loses—and Kristoffer looks like he’s enjoying the process a little too much."
Kristoffer pulls Frances up—
European uppercut.
Frances staggers.
Another.
Frances drops to a knee again.
Kristoffer runs the ropes—
BASEMENT DROPKICK right to the face.
Frances rolls to the outside, clutching his head.
Kristoffer doesn’t rush. He steps through the ropes, slow, deliberate, like a predator stalking something already dying.
Frances leans against the barricade, fumbling in his pocket—
He pulls out a flask.
Takes a swig.
Todd: "You’ve got to be kidding me!"
Bama T: "Hydration is important!"
Kristoffer reaches him—GRABS the flask—and SMASHES it across Frances’ forehead.
He grabs Frances and throws him back into the ring.
Slides in after him.
Grabs him by the jaw—fingers digging into his mouth—trying to tear at the lips, the gums—
Frances bites down.
Hard.
Kristoffer recoils slightly.
Bama T: "Oh! He got him!"
Frances rolls away, coughing, then slowly pulls himself up using the ropes.
Kristoffer charges—
Frances sidesteps—
Kristoffer hits the turnbuckles—
Frances grabs his head—
and SMASHES it backward into the post.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
The crowd starts to stir.
Todd: "Wait a second…!"
Frances stumbles back, reaches into his coat—
pulls out a pack of cigarettes.
And a lighter.
He lights one mid-match again, hands shaking.
Takes a drag.
Then—
JAMS the lit cigarette into Kristoffer’s eye.
Kristoffer SCREAMS, staggering backward.
Bama T: "OH MY GOD! THAT’S DISGUSTING!"
Todd: "BUT EFFECTIVE!"
Frances follows up—wild, sloppy punches, more like bar fight swings than wrestling strikes—but they’re landing.
Kristoffer stumbles.
Frances grabs him—
DDT.
Both men are down.
Frances crawls over, breathing heavy, takes another drag from the cigarette—
and flicks it aside onto Kristoffer’s chest.
Bama T: "This man is unbelievable."
Kristoffer sits up suddenly.
Frances freezes.
Kristoffer grabs him by the throat—
LIFTS him—
and SLAMS him down with a chokeslam.
Todd: "Arroyo right back in control!"
Kristoffer kneels over him again, more aggressive now. He claws at Frances’ forehead, digging, scraping—
Still no blood.
He roars in frustration.
Grabs Frances and throws him into the ropes—
BIG BOOT.
Frances flips inside out.
Bama T: "I don’t understand it! He should be bleeding by now!"
Kristoffer drags him to the corner and begins grinding his face against the ropes, trying to split skin.
The referee leans in—
Still nothing.
Frances is barely conscious.
Kristoffer pulls him up one more time—
goes for another strike—
Frances suddenly spits something into his face—
A mist of alcohol.
Kristoffer recoils instinctively—
Frances fumbles with the lighter—
FLICK.
A burst of flame flashes between them—not a full fireball, but enough to send Kristoffer stumbling back in shock.
The crowd ERUPTS.
Todd: "WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!"
Bama T: "HE JUST BREATHED FIRE?!"
Kristoffer clutches his face, disoriented—
Frances charges—
HEADBUTT.
A brutal, skull-on-skull crack.
Both men drop.
Silence for half a second.
Then—
The referee leans in.
Checks Kristoffer.
Then signals wildly.
The bell rings.
DING DING DING
Todd: "WAIT—WHAT?!"
Bama T: "NO WAY—NO WAY!"
Kristoffer rolls onto his back—
A thin stream of blood trickles from his forehead, just at the hairline.
Frances… is not bleeding.
Winner: FRANCES MARIGOLD
Todd: "FRANCES MARIGOLD JUST WON THIS MATCH!"
Bama T: "THAT IS A ROBBERY—NO—THAT IS A MIRACLE!"
Frances slowly sits up, wiping his own face, checking for blood.
Nothing.
He looks over at Kristoffer.
Sees the blood.
Then just… laughs.
He pulls out another cigarette with shaky hands, lights it, and raises it like a victory cigar.
Todd: "Against all odds… against a man who looked unstoppable… Frances Marigold just pulled off one of the biggest upsets we’ve ever seen!"
Bama T: "I don’t know if he’s tough, lucky, or too drunk to bleed… but it worked!"
Todd: I know we might be stunned here, but this result begs the question: Is Frances Marigold even more dangerous than anyone in the XWF realized? Afterall, he said in his promo that First Blood was just how the fight begins where he comes from. And against a man as talented as Arroyo, it took Frances one -literally one- freaking headbutt to win this match! Proving that maybe there’s something to his minimalist approach.
Bama: The XWF should be on high alert with this maniac. That’s for sure, baby!
Kristoffer sits up slowly, staring at the blood on his hand, disbelief in his eyes.
Frances leans back in the corner, smoking, grinning like a mad man. Nodding at Kristoffer as if to say “I told ya’ so”
The arena lights dim slightly as the bass drops.“WIN” by Jay Rock hits, and the Oakland crowd immediately reacts with a loud mix of cheers and energy. A spotlight hits the stage and Ric James steps out. Slick Ric.
He stands there for a second, calm… composed… scanning the crowd like he’s already measuring the moment. He adjusts his jacket, nodding to the beat, then starts walking down the ramp with that smooth bounce talking to himself, pointing at fans, soaking in every reaction.
Bama: “There he is! Slick Ric James! I told you, Todd, this man made a statement his first night even in a loss.”
Todd: “No doubt about that, but Marisol Vilaro stole that one late.”
Bama: “Stole it is RIGHT, Todd!”
Ric reaches ringside, takes the steps, wipes his feet, and steps into the ring clean. He spins once in the center, arms slightly out, soaking in the energy before calling for a mic. His music fades. The crowd is still buzzing. Ric smirks… nods. Then raises the mic.
Ric James: Let me put y’all on game real quick…
He slowly paces the ring, head nodding as the crowd reacts.
Ric James: You ever walk into somethin’… and KNOW… you supposed to leave with it?
He taps his chest, eyes scanning the crowd.
Ric James: I walked into Anarchy in my first night in the XWF and I felt it.
He looks up toward the lights, then back to the crowd.
Ric James: I felt the energy… I felt the moment… I felt that spotlight hittin’ me like it been waitin’ on me my whole life.
A grin creeps across his face.
Ric James: And then what happened?
He pauses.
Ric James: Somebody got slick.
The crowd reacts. Ric nods slowly, almost amused.
Ric James: Marisol… I ain’t even mad at you playa, game recognize game.
He shrugs, pacing again.
Ric James: That was a veteran move. I see it… I respect it…
He stops dead center in the ring.
Ric James: But don’t get it twisted, That wasn’t your moment.
A pause.
Ric James: That was mine.
The crowd pops.
Ric James: Y’all saw it.
He points out into the crowd.
Ric James: Back to back Scene Stealers… bodies droppin’… people laid out…
He smirks.
Ric James: I was cookin’ in that ring.
Bama: “Talk your talk!”
Ric nods, pacing again.
Ric James: “But see… that’s the game.
He shrugs slightly.
Ric James: You can dominate… you can shine But if you don’t finish the job?”
He drops his arms.
Ric James: Somebody else will.
A brief pause. Then he smiles again.
Ric James: And that’s alright, Because I ain’t walk outta that match empty-handed.
He points to himself.
Ric James: “I walked out with somethin’ way more dangerous and that’s Momentum.
The crowd reacts louder. Ric’s energy starts building.
Ric James: And now…
He spreads his arms wide.
Ric James: The whole world know, Slick Ric James is HERE, BITCH!
Big reaction.
Ric James: And I ain’t slowin’ down for nobody.
He bounces lightly on his feet.
Ric James: This ain’t no one-stop ride…
He points down like a track.
Ric James: This Soul Train?
He grins.
Ric James: It’s rollin’… and it ain’t stoppin’ ‘til it hit the top.
He raises one finger.
Ric James: And at the top?
He taps his chest.
Ric James: The Soul King…
Another tap.
Ric James: Mr. Super Fly…
He leans toward the hard cam.
Ric James: Slick Ric James…
A pause.
Ric James: “XWF Anarchy Champion.”
Crowd buzz grows.
Ric James: That’s the goal.
He nods.
Ric James: That’s what I came for.
He shrugs.
Ric James: Everything else?
A smirk.
Ric James: That’s just extra.
He starts pacing again, intensity rising.
Ric James: “But I know I got somethin’ to prove. So here’s what we gon’ do.
He raises the mic slightly.
Ric James: “I’m throwin’ out an open challenge.”
Crowd perks up.
Ric James: To ANY champion.
He looks left… then right.
Ric James: I don’t care what title you hold… I don’t care where you from… I don’t care how long you been doin’ this…
He leans forward.
Ric James: Step in this ring with me.
A pause.
Ric James: Non-title.
He nods.
Ric James: Let’s really see where I’m at in this peckin’ order… you dig?
He smirks.
Ric James: So in two weeks, Let’s see if any so-called champ…
A pause.
Ric James: stand on business!
He drops the mic.
THUD. His music hits again.
Bama: “OOOOH! He just called out the whole champion roster!”
Todd: “That’s a dangerous move, Bama but if his debut showed anything, it’s that Ric James can hang with anyone!”
Ric stands tall in the center of the ring, nodding, soaking in the reaction as the crowd continues to buzz.
TODD: Well, up next Bama we have a match with tremendous stakes! Four of the top competitors on the Anarchy brand will be duking it out in an elimination contest to determine the new number-one contender to Betsy Granger’s Revolution Championship!
BAMA: Yeah, you ain’t lyin, baby! Except it might not even be Betsy Granger’s championship anymore after our main event tonight, where she takes on the always game Johnny Blaaaade.
TODD: I would assume that one could clean up quite well on the betting markets if John Blade were to pull that one out, but I suppose you never quite know. But what we do know, however, is whoever the champion is after tonight, they’re going to have one tough contender chasing down their gold given this field we have tonight.
Mr. Oz
Solomon Kline
Reggie Estrada
All three of those men have held championships at the highest levels on both brands. And the fourth? Summer Page? She has proven time in and time out to be one of the more underrated, and capable competitors on our roster.
As the song starts, fog forms across the stage as the lights go dim. Lights adorning the stage aim their beams towards one specific spot. The camera angle changes to the ramp, as it slowly goes up, and Oz's silhouette starts rising from the stage, his back to the ramp. As the chorus is about to end, his hands go up and as the singer is about to belt out 'FUCKING BOW DOWN!' Oz swings his arms down, causing stage fireworks to start go off and once done, he spins around his right leg swinging out stomping on the ramp on the word 'DOWN!', causing a bunch of fireworks to blast out from the Xtron. As he walks down to the ring, he looks over to the crowd and only acknowledges the ones with signs about him. He jumps to the ring apron, causing ring post fireworks to go off, as he steps over the top rope and goes to stand in the middle of the ring, beating his chest before swinging his arms with his index fingers pointing to the ground to reiterate the top of the song yelling out but being drowned out by the music 'FUCKING BOW DOWN!' before going to his corner, getting ready before the match starts.
We see on the walkway, where the camera pans to the entrance, as soon as the beat drops we see Reggie walking down out to the song. He stares at the crowd, who gives him mix reactions as he walks down to the ring, then he gets to the steel steps, but looks at the crowd some more. Then he climbs up to it, and get into the ring. Camera cuts to various fan signs that either love or hate Reggie, then it cuts to him going on the corner to raise his fist and talk some trash, then he gets down and stand in the ring as his theme cuts off.
S&M By Rhianna will play throughout the arena as the crowd cheers while Summer walks down the aisle. Summer gets to the ring side and walks up the ring stairs. Summer looks out at the crowd and raises her arms out to the crowd as the crowd cheers louder. Summer turns her attention to inside the ring where she motions to the referee to open the bottom and middle ropes so they can enter. Summer walks over to the closest ring corner and climbs up to the middle turnbuckle.
The lights go out. Fire surrounds the stage. The X-Tron flickers to life. A heartbeat monitor flatlines. Beep.
“Antivist” by Bring Me The Horizon blasts throughout the arena. The X-Tron features key moments from his career, namely making people eat finishers and kendo sticks.
MIDDLE FINGERS UP, IF YOU DON’T GIVE A FUCK!
Solomon Kline appears on stage on his blue Harley Davidson motorcycle! Flames rise up all around him. He rides his bike down the ramp and the flames subside, replaced by snow-like pyro raining down from the ceiling. He rides his bike to the ring and goes around to each side, raising his middle fingers as the song lyrics denote and encouraging the crowd to join in and sing along with his gesture.
As he makes his way to the last side of the ring, he parks his bike with a kickstand and slides under the bottom rope.
IF YOU REALLY BELIEVE IN THE WORDS THAT YOU PREACH
GET OFF YOUR SCREENS AND ONTO THE STREETS! THERE WILL BE NO PEACEFUL REVOLUTION!
NO WAR WITHOUT BLOOD!
Solomon ascends the turnbuckle and looks around the room, taking in the cheers of the crowd before dropping down awaiting the start of the match.
MR. OZ
- vs -
SOLOMON KLINE
- vs -
SUMMER PAGE
- vs -
REGGIE ESTRADA
#1 CONTENDER'S X-TREME RULES ELIMINATION MATCH!
The winner of this elimination match will become the #1 contender to the Revolution Championship! No count-outs, no DQs, and no mercy!
HIGHLIGHT REEL
The match started off with a frenetic pace.
REggie and Summer flying around the ring, hitting big flashy moves… but the tide quickly turned.
The big powerhouses, Oz and Kline exchanging big power moves one after another on the smaller Estrada and Page.
Kline hits a chokeslam on Estrada!
Oz powerbombs Page!
And then the two giants meet nose to nose in the center of the ring for what feels like the hundredth time. This elicits a huge pop from the crowd as they just start trading punches. Lefts and rights. Oz starts driving Kline back into the ropes. He lays a nasty chop across his chest. Then another!
Oz takes a few steps back and then charges in for a running clothes line - - - BUT KLINE STOPS HIM!
OFF BALANCED SUPERKICK RIGHT TO OZ’S JAW!
Mr. Oz stumbles into Kline as they both remain precariously unbalanced near the ropes and - - -
[blue]TODD: LOOK OUT FROM BEHIND, BAMA!
Out of nowhere, Page and Estrada have recovered and are partnering up, grabbing Oz by each leg and pushing up with all of their might - - - FLIPPING BOTH HE AND KLINE OUT TO THE FLOOR!
The crowd pops big for this one!
Summer celebrates, raising her fists in the air, and almost goes to high-five Reggie, but recognizes her mistake too late!
Reggie rakes her in the eyes, then arm drags her to the mat and beings curb stomping her.
Reggie takes advantage and goes for the quick cover…
1!
2!!
But Summer kicks out with relative ease… and now she looks pissed.
She's up and spears Reggie… THROUGH THE ROEPS AND TO THE FLOOR!
The two crash on the outside, but Summer still has Reggie mounted and begins pummeling him in the face with punches.
Elsewhere, near the commentary tables, the two behemoths are battling it out.
Oz is gripping Kline by the ears, and sends a headbutt right between his eyes. Kline flops to the floor, but Oz doesn’t look much better. He stumbles back into the commentary table, and leans over trying to catch his breath.
He finally shakes the cobwebs, and limps over to grab a chair. He slams it closed and sets his sights on Kline who is only just now on all fours.
CRACK!
The chair is driven into Kline’s spine.
CRACK!
Again, and again!
Oz sets the chair back in a seated position - - - he lifts Kline to his feet and…
A GORGEOUS LOOKING SPINEBUSTER ONTO THE CHAIR!
Elsewhere, Page is trying to recover from a comeback by Reggie.
After an effective low-blow to Summer, Reggie has been having his way with her.
She’s down on the outside, and now Reggie is climbing back in the ring, and up the turnbuckle. He trunks and
BAMA: I'm Ya Papi-Hulo, BABY!!!!!!
FIVE STAR FROG SP- - - KNEES TO THE GUT BY PAGE!
Reggie is in a bad way now. Summer has him right where she wants him…
TODD: PURE PERFECTION ON THE FLOOR!
The fisherman’s suplex lands clean. Summer hooks the leg
1!
2!!
3!!!
ELIMINATED - REGGIE ESTRADA!
After noticing the elimination, Oz takes a break from brutalizing Kline. A sick little grin sliding across his lips as he snakes up behind Summer Page and - - - GRAVITAS!!!!
Oz plants Summer right on her head with his finisher and goes for the cover
1!
2!!
NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!
TODD: HOW IN THE HELL DID SUMMER KICK OUT OF THAT MOVE, BAMA!
BAMA: SUMMER HAS SOOO MUCH FIGHT IN HER, BABY! I BELIEVE WE’RE ONLY BEGINNING TO SEE HER AT HER BEST!
Oz is stunned. But quickly, that look of shock melts away into disgust, and disdain.
He rips Page up by the hair and begins walking her over near the commentary table, where Kline is still trying to recover.
Oz throws Page down and then begins wrecking the commentary table top like a mad man. Slamming monitors, and mics, and shuffling papers. Giving himself a place to stand. He drags Page back up by the hair and flips her onto the table and - - - LOW BLOW FROM KLINE!
Oz Crumbles. And now it’s Kline’s turns. He grabs the mangled chair from the floor and swing is wildly at Oz’s head.
CRRRRAAAAAACK!
Oz is out. Kline turns back and - - -SUMMER LEAPS OFF OF THE COMMENTARY TABLE AND TAKES KLINE DOWN WITH A DIVING TORNADO DDT!!!
The crowd is going wild!
But Summer doesn’t hesitate. She spots Oz looking like he’s in rough shape.
Quickly she dives on him for the cover
1!
2!!
OZ BENCH PRESSES HER OFF OH HIM!
Oz gets to his feet, heavily breathing with a terrible looking rage.
He steps toward Summer and snatches her again, dragging her to the table and this time - - - GRAVITAS THROUGH THE TABLE - - - he finishes what he started.
Summer is out
Oz covers!
1!
2!!
3!!!
ELIMINATED - SUMMER PAGE
TODD: We’re down to the final two, Bama! It will be Mr. Oz or Solomon Kline challenging for the REvolution Championship!
The battle between these behemoths rages on.
Oz Spinebusters Kline through the other commentary table… for a split-second kick-out!
Kline eventually takes back control and plants Oz on the steel steps with a full nelson slam that also only draws a near-fall…
And now finally, this bloody stalemate has made its way back into the ring.
And
TODD: OH MY GOD! I THINK OZ HAS CONTROL HERE!
BAMA: HE’S ABOUT TO SEND KLINE ON A RIDE TO MR. OZ’S GERMAN SUPLEX SCHOOL!
1 GERMAN
2 GERMAN
3 GERMAN
4- - -NOOOOOOOOO
OUT OF NOWHERE - SUMMER PAGE SNEAS BACK INTO THE MATCH AND HITS OZ WITH A LOWBLOW FROM BEHIND!
OZ LETS GO. HIS EYES BULDGING FROM HIS SKULL!
KLINE TURNS AND
TODD: CRIOMSON BOMB! CRIMSON BOMB!
BAMA: WITH AN UNLIKELY ASSIST FROM SUMMER PAGE, BABY!
A defiant Summer sneaks back out of the ring as a dazed Kline pins Mr. Oz
1!
2!!
3!!!
Winner - SOLOMON KLINE
[video=youtube]TkUKyTLYQos[/video]
"Sex Metal Barbie" by In This Moment plays as Jenny Myst makes her way to the ring.
The lights drop hard.
A low pink glow bleeds across the arena as the opening pulse of “Sex Metal Barbie” hits—industrial, predatory, unmistakable. The crowd reaction swells immediately, a mix of boos, awe, and uneasy anticipation, because everyone knows what that song means.
Then she steps through the curtain.
Jenny Myst doesn’t rush. She arrives.
Leather gleams under the lights as she pauses at the top of the ramp, chin tilted slightly upward, eyes scanning the crowd like she’s counting debts. The X-Division Championship, Mortimer, rests over her shoulder—not displayed, not flaunted—carried like a weapon she’s already used tonight. Her expression is calm, almost bored, but there’s cruelty sitting just beneath it, coiled and patient.
On the second beat drop, she rolls her shoulders and starts down the ramp with deliberate, confident strides. Each step syncs with the rhythm—measured, heavy, inevitable. She ignores the fans reaching out, the insults, the chants. Their noise doesn’t register. This isn’t their moment. It’s hers.
Halfway down, Jenny stops.
She turns slowly, eyes locking with the hard camera, and smirks—not playful, not charming, but sharp. A reminder. She lifts Mortimer just enough for the gold to catch the light, mouthing a few words only the camera gets: mine. Then she lets the title fall back against her shoulder like it belongs there… because it does.
At ringside, she wipes her boots on the apron with exaggerated care before stepping up, climbing through the ropes with smooth precision. No wasted movement. No nerves. Inside the ring, she walks straight to the center, turning once more as the music continues to snarl through the arena.
Jenny Myst raises the title high—not for the crowd, but for her opponent—eyes cold, posture relaxed, utterly in control.
The music fades.
And suddenly, the ring feels smaller.
Bama T: Making her way to the ring….IT’S HER X’CELLENCY, JENNY MYST!
Todd: Jenny Myst has quickly risen to the top of the card since she returned to the XWF. She co-main evented back-to-back Pay Per Views, was a 2-time X-treme Champion, and she even defeated Game Girl in the March Madness tournament: but tonight, she has her eyes set on something bigger and larger than all of that.
Bama T: You’re damn right, Todd! Because tonight, Jenny Myst finally sets her sights on the greatest prize in all of professional wrestling: THE ANARCHY CHAMPIONSHIP!
Todd: For what I believe is the first time in Jenny’s historic career, she will be fighting for a chance at ‘Big Blue’!
Bama T: And you just know that she has a few dirty tricks up her sleeve, and a few traps laid for T-Six along the way!
Full black.
The stage alights in red. Smoke gathers around the stage. Gods by Sleep Token plays as XXXVI appears, rising up out of the red lights amidst the smoke, his hands gathered in prayer. He steps out onto the stage and takes in the mixed reaction from the crowd. He shakes his out his head and shoulders and begins to walk down the ramp, hands still in prayer pose. Then from behind him, appears CIX. She follows him down the ramp. Half way down, he spreads his hands apart and reaches out both arms in T-Pose as he crouches, sauntering down the rest of the ramp toward the ring. He climbs onto the apron, outstretches his arms and then enters, rolling backward over the top rope and spins toward the center of the ring, arms outstretched like a helicopter. He then sits, cross legged in the dead center of the ring, hands once again in prayer pose and bows his head. Full black again, then a single, red cone of light bathes him in the ring as fire explodes out of each turnbuckle. Outside the ring, CIX surveys the crowd as they await the match starting.
Todd: This is an insane match-up tonight, because not only do we have Jenny Myst in action…but we also have Thirty-Six! The second longest Revolution Championship reign of all time. A former Anarchy tag-team champion. The February Star of the Month!
Bama T: Mr. T-Six has dominated on Anarchy ever since his debut. So now tonight, it’s only natural that he’s finally getting a chance to fight for the big one.
Todd: And if history tells us anything, Bama? It’s telling us that if Thirty-Six gets his hands on Big Blue, he won’t be letting it go for a long, long time!
JENNY MYST
- vs -
XXXVI
#1 CONTENDER'S LADDER MATCH!
A contract for a shot at the Anarchy Championship is hanging in a briefcase above the ring. Whoever retrieves the contract, will become the new #1 contender to the Anarchy Championship!
The bell CLANGS and the energy in the arena spikes instantly.
XXXVI explodes out of his corner, closing the distance before Jenny Myst can even react. He locks up, drives her back, and buries a shoulder into her midsection, forcing her into the turnbuckles.
Todd: "And we are off! XXXVI wasting absolutely no time here!"
Bama T: "That’s one way to do it, Todd. Don’t let the snake start slithering."
XXXVI unloads with sharp right hands—one, two, three—before whipping Jenny hard across the ring. She hits the opposite corner and stumbles forward—
ARM DRAG—followed by another—then a dropkick that sends her tumbling under the bottom rope to the outside.
Jenny lands on her feet but immediately backs away, creating distance.
Bama T: "Look at that ring awareness. She ain’t sticking around to get steamrolled."
XXXVI doesn’t hesitate—he sprints to the ropes—
SUICIDE DIVE!
He crashes into Jenny, sending both competitors into the barricade with a thud that echoes.
Todd: "XXXVI just launched himself like a missile! He is pulling out all the stops!"
CIX claps loudly at ringside, shouting encouragement.
XXXVI pulls Jenny up and tries to slam her face-first into the apron—but Jenny blocks, elbows him in the ribs, and counters—
She whips him into the steel steps!
CLANG.
Bama T: "There we go. That’s more like it."
Jenny takes a second, brushing her hair back, regaining composure. Then she reaches under the ring—
—and pulls out a second ladder.
The crowd buzzes.
She slides it in, then follows, setting it up near the ropes instead of the center.
XXXVI rolls back into the ring, clutching his shoulder. Jenny charges—
—but he pops up and catches her!
SPINEBUSTER!
The ring shakes.
Todd: "What impact! XXXVI turning the tide!"
He doesn’t waste time—he drags the ladder to the center and starts climbing.
One rung.
Two.
Three.
Jenny scrambles up and grabs his ankle, yanking him down violently. He crashes face-first into the mat.
Jenny stomps away at his back, then grabs the ladder and RAMS it into his ribs.
Once. Twice.
Todd: "That ladder just became a weapon!"
Bama T: "It’s always been a weapon, Todd. That’s the point!"
Jenny wedges the ladder in the corner again and drags XXXVI up.
She attempts a whip—
—but he reverses!
Jenny goes shoulder-first into the ladder again, the metal buckling slightly under the impact.
She staggers backward—
XXXVI charges—
RUNNING CLOTHESLINE turns her inside out.
The crowd roars.
Todd: "Jenny Myst might be in serious trouble!"
XXXVI pulls her up and hooks her—
VERTICAL SUPLEX—
—but instead of dropping her, he walks her over and SLAMS her onto the ladder laid flat in the ring.
Jenny screams out in pain.
Bama T: "Okay… that one hurt."
XXXVI sets the ladder up again and starts climbing.
Halfway there—
Jenny kips up—adrenaline kicking in—and shoves the ladder sideways.
XXXVI leaps off at the last second, landing on his feet—but Jenny capitalizes—
LOW BLOW.
The crowd BOOS loudly as XXXVI drops to his knees.
Todd: "Again with that! She’s shameless!"
Bama T: "She’s effective!"
Jenny grins and grabs his head—
DDT—spiking him onto the edge of the ladder.
She rolls him aside and begins her climb.
Slow. Methodical.
She’s nearing the top—
—but CIX jumps onto the apron, yelling at her.
“HEY! HE’S GETTING BACK UP!”
Jenny looks down, annoyed—
That split-second distraction costs her.
XXXVI surges up, grabs the ladder, and SHOVES it.
Jenny crashes down hard to the mat, clutching her back.
Todd: "CIX just bought XXXVI a second chance!"
Bama T: "Yeah, but how many chances does he need?"
Both competitors are down again.
The crowd claps rhythmically, trying to will XXXVI back to his feet.
He stirs first.
He drags himself up using the ropes, breathing heavily, eyes locked on the briefcase.
He sets the ladder once more.
Climbing again.
Every step slower than the last.
Jenny begins to stir.
She crawls to the opposite side of the ladder and starts climbing too.
They meet at the top.
Forearms back and forth.
The crowd roaring with each shot.
Todd: "This is it! This is the turning point!"
XXXVI lands a heavy right—
Jenny fires back—
XXXVI HEADBUTTS her—
She wobbles—
—but rakes the eyes AGAIN.
Bama T: "If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it!"
Jenny reaches—
XXXVI grabs her waist—
and launches—
SUPERPLEX OFF THE LADDER!
Both crash with a thunderous impact.
The ring shakes.
The crowd ERUPTS.
Todd: "UNBELIEVABLE! THEY MAY HAVE JUST DESTROYED EACH OTHER!"
CIX is frantic at ringside, shouting for XXXVI to move.
Slowly… painfully… he begins crawling.
Jenny is barely moving.
XXXVI reaches the ladder and starts pulling himself up.
The crowd is on their feet.
Todd: "Nobody left! Nobody to stop him now!"
He climbs.
One rung.
Two.
Three.
Four.
He’s inches away.
The arena is ready to explode—
—but suddenly—
The crowd reaction shifts.
Loud boos.
Marisol Vilaro and Big Pretty are sprinting down the ramp!
Bama T: "Ohhhh yeah. Here we go."
Todd: "No! Not now! Not like this! What the hell does Marisol Vilaro have against T-Six?!"
CIX jumps down and tries to cut them off—but Big Pretty steps in front of her, blocking her path completely.
She tries to shove past him—
He doesn’t budge.
Marisol slides into the ring.
XXXVI is fingertips away from the briefcase—
Marisol grabs the ladder—
and SHOVES it violently.
XXXVI crashes down, hitting hard and rolling toward the ropes.
Todd: "This is a setup! This is a complete setup!"
Bama T: "It’s called payback, Todd!"
Todd: “Payback for WHAT?! What could Marisol possibly be getting revenge for?!”
Bama: “It’s payback for how UGLY and UNMAXXED 36 is!”
CIX screams in frustration as Big Pretty keeps her out.
Jenny slowly begins to move, pulling herself up with the ropes.
Marisol steadies the ladder for her.
Jenny looks up at the briefcase… then down at XXXVI… then smiles.
She begins climbing.
There’s no resistance.
There’s no fight left.
Todd: "He had this match won… he had it won…"
Bama T: "But he didn’t finish it. That’s the difference!”
Jenny reaches the top.
Her hands grasp the briefcase.
She unhooks it.
CLICK.
The bell rings.
Winner and NEW #1 Contender to the Anarchy Championship - Jenny Myst
Todd: "It’s over… Jenny Myst has stolen a shot at the Anarchy Championship!"
Jenny sits atop the ladder, clutching the briefcase, soaking in the deafening boos.
Marisol applauds. Big Pretty finally steps aside.
CIX rushes into the ring and kneels beside XXXVI, checking on him as he stares up, devastated.
Jenny stands tall, raising the briefcase high above her head.
Bama T: "You can hate it, but you can’t deny it. She’s the new number one contender."
Todd: "And XXXVI is left picking up the pieces… after having it ripped away from him by Marisol!"
Jenny smirks down at them both before climbing the turnbuckle, holding the briefcase high.
TODD: The Revolution Championship is on the line, folks! Betsy Granger versus John Blade, and surrounding the ring are four dangerous lumberjacks with a LOT at stake!
BAMA: This is a powder keg, Toddrick! Betsy wins, all five of ‘em are banned from challengin’ her title reign! John wins? We got ourselves a new champ and the whole division changes overnight!
The Time is now hit's as he walks out on stage. “The Surgeon of Thug” John Blade talks to the cameraman and bounces a little. He holds up his “Never Give Up” logo flag and tosses it to the fans. He salutes and runs straight down towards the platform!
TODD: The “Surgeon of Thug”! The “Chain Gang”! John Blade!
BAMA: Where? I can’t see him.
TODD: Get your eyes checked, Bama. John Blade is in the building! He challenged Betsy Granger this week for the Revolution Title. Despite not having won a #1 contender’s match! Despite not having beaten Betsy in the past! And Betsy accepted his challenge… with a HUGE condition! That if he wins, John Blade may NOT challenge for the Revolution Title again while Betsy Granger is holding it!
BAMA: Not only John! But the entire Chain Gang, as it were! Razor, Latoya, Deena, AND Landerson! It feels like half the Revolution division is going to be stuck in challenger purgatory if John Blade doesn’t get the job done tonight![/lbue]
JC: This certainly isn’t a typical match, wrestling on a thin platform above an unfathomably deep drop! But, ya gotta wonder if a career that’s been as long as John Blade’s gives him some kind of experience advantage. If he can apply some stipulation in his past to this scenario and if that will give him the edge the Surgeon of Thug needs to carve out the win![/white]
John 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![/align]
Surrounding the ring, Razor Blade and Latoya Hixx, the tag-team known as American Nightmare, stand shoulder to shoulder, eyeing John intensely…
On the other side of the ring, Deena grits his teeth giggling to herself as Landerson takes two steps to stop from being too close to Deena.[/font][/color][/size]
[blue]TODD: And our lumberjacks are already surrounding the ring, Bama! Ya gotta wonder just how much they plan to get involved! This isn’t just Blade’s chance on the line! Their future as potential champions is in jeopardy… in a match they aren’t even competing in!
…
“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… The Revolution Title gleaming as bright as a constellation on her shoulder!
“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.
"Going supernova, all the eyes look up
(at you, at you)
BRIGHTER!”
TODD: There she is! The Revolution Champion! Betsy Granger! After returning to the XWF, she’s pulled down championship gold and is the proud champion of the Revolution!
BAMA: Betsy’s not one to back down from a fight, but I gotta say, this is a dumb challenge! John Blade’s already no slouch… and he’s got his whole entourage at ringside!
TODD: Never tell Betsy Granger the odds! Or do, so she can proudly defy them!
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.
…
Betsy Granger stands in her corner, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet. Despite the smile on her face, her fingers flex anxiously against the ropes, betraying nervous energy beneath the playful confidence. Her eyes dart from lumberjack to lumberjack outside the ring, mentally calculating escape routes and risks.
Across from her, John Blade slowly rolls his shoulders and smirks with arrogant certainty. He points directly at the title belt, then taps his chest twice with a fist. The younger fans erupt in cheers while older fans answer with thunderous boos.
BAMA:Listen to them kids screamin’ for The Chain Gang!
TODD:And listen to everybody else booing him out of the building!
The referee raises the Revolution Championship high overhead. Before handing it off to the timekeeper… He signals for the bell!
A modified lumberjack match! Deena Hixx, Latoya Hixx, Razor Blade, and El Landerson will be acting as lumberjacks outside the ring.
If John Blade wins, he becomes the new Revolution Champion!
If Betsy Granger wins, no one present at ringside can ever challenger her for the Revolution Championship again!
The moment the bell rings, John immediately surges forward!
TODD: John Blade making the first incision of his title-belt-ectomy, if you will.
BAMA: I will not, I hate surgical wordplay!
The instant he moves, his face lights up with overconfident excitement, sensing he can overwhelm Betsy with raw force. He barrels in with a Running Leaping Shoulder Block—
—but Betsy’s eyes widen sharply with alarm before narrowing in concentration. She drops flat to the mat at the last second.
John sails over her entirely!
TODD: John may have underestimated the explosive quickness of the Impossible Traveler!
BAMA: C’mon, John! She travels impossibly fast! It’s in the name!
His expression changes from smug certainty to startled confusion as he stumbles into the ropes.
Betsy instantly sees the opening. A mischievous grin curls across her face as she pops upward and fires a tiger feint kick through the ropes—
SMACK!
The kick catches John flush in the ribs as he rebounds backward.
TODD:Beautiful counter by the champion!
BAMA: Clean blow! But it’s gonna take a lot more than one fancy kick to put down the Chain Gang!
John grimaces, clutching his side. Embarrassment flashes across his face at being outmaneuvered so quickly, and that embarrassment immediately mutates into anger. He lunges forward again, swinging wildly for a Leaping Clothesline—
—but Betsy’s expression brightens with sudden confidence. She spins underneath the arm and snatches the wrist into a spinning armwringer!
TODD: Betsy’s putting on a clinic here!
John’s face contorts as the torque snaps through his shoulder.
Betsy keeps twisting.
John drops to one knee.
Outside the ring, American Nightmare peers closer… Razor smacks the ring as if signalling to John to get his head in the game.
TODD: Clearly Razor is trying to remind John that wrestling has more than one royal family!
BAMA: Are we canonically putting on the record that John and Razor are related?
TODD: Not our place to do so, Bama! But, we are gently implying the possibility!
The champion’s grin grows wider. She pivots behind him and leaps, wrapping body scissors around his waist while applying an arm-hook sleeper!
The crowd roars.
John’s face reddens instantly. He claws at Betsy’s arms, panic briefly flashing in his eyes as he realizes how tightly she’s trapped him.
TODD: Betsy’s trying to wear the powerhouse down early!
BAMA: Smart! You let John Blade get downhill and start stringing moves… and it’s like tryin’ to stop a freight train with a napkin! Barney Green knows that better ‘n anybody! Best way to keep John Blade down is to never let him up in the first place![/blue
John snarls through gritted teeth. Pride and stubbornness harden his expression. He plants his boots and forces himself upward with sheer strength.
Betsy’s eyes widen.
John RUNS backward into the turnbuckles—
THUD!
Betsy’s body bounces violently against the pads.
Her face twists in pain, body scissors loosening instinctively.
John immediately senses weakness. A cocky grin returns as he peels Betsy off himself and hoists her upward—
SPINEBUSTER!
The ring shakes.
Betsy folds upward from the impact, gasping silently.
[blue]BAMA:THAT is star power, baby! Someone must have freshly polished that Blade cuz it is SHINING right now!
Razor Blade lets out a breath he was holding, clapping a few times for a good move… Deena snarls on the other side, screaming at him to finish Granger off!
John pops to his feet, feeding off the crowd reaction. He raises one hand high in the air.
Half the crowd explodes.
The other half rains boos.
John pumps himself up, waving “You Can’t See Me” over the grounded Betsy.
TODD: He’s going for the Five Knuckles-Shuffle already?!
John rebounds off the ropes—
—but Betsy’s eyes suddenly sharpen with survival instinct.
As John charges back in, she pops upward and catches him with a sudden single-leg dropkick right to the knee.
John CRASHES forward awkwardly.
His expression becomes furious disbelief.
Betsy scrambles up, sensing momentum turning. Her fear melts into excitement as she grabs John’s arm and flips into a crucifix—
—but John’s sheer size halts the throw halfway.
Betsy’s face instantly shifts from confidence to “oh no.”
John smirks.
Then he DEADLIFTS her upward.
BAMA: OH SHE DONE MESSED UP NOW!
WHITE NOISE!
Betsy bounces off the mat hard.
TODD: What a maneuver! That slam right there could have just ended it!
Outside the ring… Deena circles beside her twin sister… as Razor shifts to the other side by Landerson…
Inside the ring, John hooks the leg.
The official slides to count as the lumberjacks gather, intrigued!
ONE!
TWO!
THR-KICKOUT!
The crowd erupts.
John sits up with stunned irritation.
Outside the ring, Latoya Hixx pulls her sunglasses down and pounds the apron furiously, yelling for John to “JUST HIT HER HARDER!”
Meanwhile, Razor Blade watches intently with narrowed eyes, pacing like a caged wolf.
El Landerson wildly slaps the apron and shouts encouragement in Spanish. Bien, bien!
John rises again, breathing heavily now. Sweat drips from his face, frustration beginning to crack his confidence.
Across from him, Betsy pushes herself up slowly, one hand clutching her back. Fear flickers in her eyes for only a moment before she forces herself to smile defiantly.
John charges.
Betsy suddenly leaps upward—
DIVING HURRICANRANA DRIVER!
PLANTE DE VISAGE!
The crowd detonates.
John spikes violently head-first into the canvas.
TODD: PLANTE DE VISAGE!! SHE PLANTED HIM!
Betsy collapses beside him, too exhausted to capitalize immediately.
Outside, Deena slams both fists against the apron in frustration while Latoya screams at John to “GET UP, DUMMY!”
Eventually Betsy crawls over.
ONE!
TWO!
THR—NO!
John powers out.
Betsy’s eyes go wide in disbelief.
John sits upright immediately after the kickout, pure adrenaline in his expression. The crowd volume fuels him. He beats his chest wildly.
BAMA: THAT BOY AIN’T HUMAN!
Betsy backs away nervously now.
John storms forward with renewed momentum.
LOU THESZ PRESS!
Punches rain down.
Betsy covers desperately.
John rises, adrenaline-drunk and roaring to the audience…
Betsy rolls outside the ring to buy herself a breather!
…She rolls to her feet… beside Razor and Landerson..
TODD: Uh oh! I think Betsy forgot what kind of match this is…
BAMA: The Impossible Traveler just traveled into the lion’s den!
Betsy shakes her head, trying to reform a strategy in her mind…
When she realizes, flanking her shoulders are Razor Blade and El Landerson!
The Hixxes scream at them to get her!
Betsy’s eyes widen as she defensively raises her dukes!
…
Razor holds open the bottom rope and gestures her inside… Landerson holds his hands like ‘venga, venga’!
The Hixxes are like ‘WHAT?!?!’
TODD: Great show of sportsmanship by Razor and Landerson! Even if it means them losing a title shot, they want this match result to come out fairly!
The Hixxes storm over, screaming at Razor and Landerson to start beating Granger down! Razor sneers, finding their suggestion disgusting as Landerson does the sign of the cross, getting ready to throw hands with his old friends to knock some sense into them!
Betsy is surprised… as she rolls back under the bottom rope…
STRAIGHT INTO JOHN BLADE’S ARMS!
SPINNING POWERBOMB!
TODD: Oh my! I think Betsy’s surprise at the sportsmanship by the Chain Gang took her eye off the ball! And John Blade just capitalized!
Betsy’s back hits the canvas HARD!
Blade springs up, pumping his fists! Then he leans down and pumps up his shoe.
The arena EXPLODES.
TODD: Death Valley Drop coming!! We could have a new Revolution champion!
![[-]](https://xwf1999.com/images/portal2/collapse.gif)
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