August - 3 - 2026 WARFARE! LIVE FROM MODA CENTER PORTLAND, OREGON Garisha - vs - John Black Singles Solomon Kline - vs - The Edgecrusher Singles #1 Contender’s Match for the Blade Championship Blade Latoya Hixx - vs - ‘Main Event’ Jay Fetu Singles BLADE CHAMPIONSHIP BLADE MATCH John Blade © - vs - Razor Blade Pure Wrestling Rules Match Remi Storm - vs - Jenny Myst #1 Contender’s Match for the TV Title at Relentless XWF TELEVISION CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH Samael Dyson © - vs - Judd Hollow 15 Minute Time Limit

Long before the festivities for Warfare can begin, we cut to the parking lot VIP area where two outlandish vehicles arrive, large and in charge. A glitter pink pegasus limo and a monster truck limo. The markings on each let all know who they herald.

THE ART FOUNDATION.



JOE ROGAN: THEY’RE HERE, JC! LOOK AT THEM ROLLING UP IN STYLE LIKE THEY OWN THE PLACE. THOSE ARE SOME WICKED LIMOS!



JC: Please stop screaming into my ear, Joe. I know you simp for Korvayne, but good god, calm down, man.

JOE ROGAN: WHY ARE THERE TWO LIMOS THOUGH? Interesting.

JC: One of them is probably to cart their egos around.

The vehicles roll to a stop.

From the monster truck limo, the SIMP, Doug, Ubermench, and the Roller Whores disembark. They are wilding out, some possibly drunk or high. They head toward the glitter pink limo and open the doors.

Out from the pegasus limo comes Lionel Pennfarthing, belting a triumphant cheer and dressed like only an impeccable world-class stage play great can be dressed.

Next comes Samael Dyson. A menacing grin is already plastered on his face as he slings the Television Title over his shoulder.

Remi Storm emerges behind him, looking hella cute in her super sexy fuckable outfit. She holds one half of the tag team titles in her hand.

And, of course, Korvayne has to wait several suspense-building moments before finally surfacing in a single fast bolt. She belts a joyful screech and clangs her tag title with Remi’s.

Although outside, the Art Foundation can hear the crowd jeering the fuck out of them. In fact, they can FEEL it in the ground beneath their feetsies.

KORVAYNE: Why do I feel like I’m forgetting something?

She looks around. Right on cue comes a homeless-looking bum riding a janky bicycle. He has the X-treme Championship wrapped around his neck like a scarf.

KORVAYNE: Ah. There it is. Alright bum, just hold the belt and stay 10 feet away from us at all times.

JOE ROGAN: She’s actually doing it, JC. She said the Xtreme Championship would never touch her wondrous body and she’d make a bum hold it for her to show the Trillionaires exactly what that title means to her.

JC: It’s a slap in the face to all the men and women who’ve worn that championship!

Remi turns to the camera and smiles so damn sweetly.

REMI: Gentlemen in the production truck… hit our music!



“Run This Town” blasts inside the Moda Center, but the feed remains outside, following the Art Foundation as they take their sweet ass time strolling through the lot and into the building.

The camera still follows them as they once again take their time, randomly shoving staffers and wrestlers out of their way.

They come to the curtain where the entrance is, but stroll right on by and hit up catering, where we watch them (especially the SIMP) demolish it in short order, leaving no food or drink for the rest of the roster. They carry away their edible spoils and head toward the curtain.

JC: It’s about damn time! They need to get out here and say whatever crap they’re gonna say!

JOE ROGAN: A wise man once said that you can’t rush greatness. Let them cook, man. Enjoy being in the presence of greatness. 

FINALLY they push through the curtain to their music playing for the tenth continuous loop. The crowd is even more pissed at them than they were before.

But what’s this? They once again take their sweet time leisurely strolling down the ramp, joking and toking with each other. Once near the ring steps, Korvayne steps forward, barking orders at the ring crew, who look scared as hell but nod and promptly remove the canvas as fast as possible and replace it with a better one depicting the Art Foundation.



JC: What the HELL? Oh, come on! This is too much! Really? Our talent will have to wrestle on that canvas tonight. Who approved this? Are they really just doing whatever they want?

JOE ROGAN: You can’t argue with it, though. Right now they are the Mount Rushmore of XWF! They’re money. Who’s gonna step to them?

JC: THE HELL YOU SAY?!?! Somebody has to!

Finally, mercifully, they file into the ring, and Ser Lionel takes command of the scene.

LIONEL PENNYFARTHING: HERE YE… HERE YE…. HERE YE… Land of Ports in the great state of Oregon, I beseech ye to unwind your tongues and let your hearts be stilled for a moment as I bestow upon you the greatest among you!

Crowd: NOOOOOOOOO! BOOOOOOOO!

LIONEL PENNYFARTHING: Introducing first, he is the DYING GOD COMING INTO HUMAN FLESH! Yet he does not walk on water! He walks on his opponents' skulls! He is your REIGNING… DEFENDING… Champion of all your television sets… AND he’s the bearer of the 24/7 Briefcase… I give you SAMAEL DYYYYYSSSSSSSOONNNN!

Sam grabs his crotch for the camera and waggles his tongue.

LIONEL PENNYFARTHING: Introducing next… she is the Sugarcoated Savage! The STORM that blows her opponents away and blows the socks off the menfolk who watch her wrestle. I proudly, with a tear in my eye, give unto you all one half of the WORLD tag team champions….. REMI STOOOOORRRRMMM!

Remi flashes a mischievous smile, giving her signature shimmy, patting the Tag Team belt on her shoulder.

LIONEL PENNYFARTHING: And last but not least, it gives me great pleasure and unyielding joy to grace you all with… hold on…

He pulls out a long list, WCW Chris Jericho style, and begins rattling off monikers.



LIONEL PENNYFARTHING: The Artist of Atrocities, the Woman above all Women, the Champagne Super Nova, the Countess of Dropkick City, the Ass Haver, the Eyes of Atlantis, Every Woman’s Regret but Every Man’s Fantasy Pet, the Duchess of Drip, the Dream of the Ring… (even Kor gets tired of it and yells at him to hurry up)... um.. She is the TWO-time XWF TV Champion… the TWO-time Promo of the Month award winner… and your REIGNING… DEFENDING… XWF XTreme Champion and Tag Team Champion of the WOOOOORRRRLLLLLDDDDDD…. The GREAT Korvaaaaaaaaaaaayne!

She steps forward and is met with NUCLEAR heat from the fans that’s so devastating it almost vaporizes her. Her SIMP tries shielding her from their verbal destruction, but she swats him away and steps into it, arms out, BASKING in their heat!

SO STUNNING! SO BRAVE!

Spinning on her heels, she takes the mic so generously handed to her.

KORVAYNE: First things first. Please stand and remain silent as we pay tribute to the Nickleman.

The bell chimes ten times in a row and while it does so, various unfalttring moments of Charlie’s career are put in a montage along with unflattering Benny Hill circus music. 

When the bell ringing ends, Korvayne lays that iconic smirk on everyone.

KORVAYNE: That’s right, Charlie Nickles is DEAD. Gone. Done. Buried! We killed him at Bad Medicine! Now, the next order of business. Gloating. Look at us! The Art Foundation has a bevy of gold. All we’re missing is the Universal Championship, but Sam will soon have that one around his waist! So, since we run things now, let’s send those ratings through the roof. Relentless is coming up, and after that comes WAR GAMES! I know XWF does random team pairings for War Games, but this time it’ll be different. At War Games, it will be me, Samael, Remi, Lionel, and a yet-to-be-selected teammate versus the winning team from the usual XWF format. That team will meet us in the finals, as we will have the top seed and a bye-week or whatever you wanna call it.

JC: She doesn’t have the authority to do that.

Joe Rogan: They have nearly all the gold on Warfare. That carries weight. Let her cook.

JC: She’s not cooking though. She’s thrown a TV dinner in the microwave. That’s not cooking.

KORVAYNE: That’s done. Now, Remi-Roo, let’s talk about our first tag title defense. Relentless sounds like great spot for it doesn’t it?

Remi leans into the mic to a mixed reaction.

REMI: I kinda like the sound of that Kor. First defense at Relentless? Sounds like the perfect way to remind everybody that these weren’t a fluke. So here’s everybody’s invitation. Anybody have the guts or the balls to step into the ring with us? Please do… We’ll welcome you with open arms. And if nobody wants to volunteer? That’s okay. We’ll come find you. We’ll hunt people down… every show… until someone gives in. One way or another, somebody is getting their ass in the ring with us.

Her smile widens.

REMI: Because Kor and I didn’t win these championships just to carry them around looking pretty, although we do… We plan on defending them. A lot. Against anyone. The tag division has gotten way too comfortable, too fucking boring lately. That’s going to change real fast. Your queens are here to shake things up, it was everyone’s lucky day when we took these belts from the clowns. So get ready… Relentless is just going to be the beginning.

KORVAYNE: There ya have it, Portland. The Stormster hath spoken.

Kor turns away from her and saunters up to Samael. Her deamour changes. Less happy now. His expression matches hers, and they nod in understanding of one another.

KORVAYNE: But amid all these great things, there is a sour spot nagging at us, huh Sam? A spot that the idiot ref at Bad Medicine put there. You took the brunt of that, got screwed in the worst way, so let them have it.

She hands him the mic so he can go ham.

SAMAEL: You're damn right I got screwed. And not in a good way! You see, management pulled a bait and switch with the stipulation at Bad Medicine, turning what should have been a two fall match into an elimination match…which is BULLSHIT! Things went according to plan when Korvayne pinned Charlie, but instead of keeping him in the match so I could pin him and retain my Xtreme Championship, he was eliminated so Korvayne and I were forced to fight each other! Which, for those keeping track at home, is also a steaming pile of BULLSHIT!

Not that any of this is surprising mind you. Because God forbid I be allowed to usurp the longest Xtreme championship reign record from the XWFs Golden goose The Engineer!

The fans pop for the Engineer mention.

SAMAEL: Well fuck all of you too!

The fans cheers turn to boos.

SAMAEL: Management has done nothing but stifle my vision and my goals since I set foot in the XWF, and why?! Oh a bloo bloo bloo I tore out my shithead mother's throat on TV! Wah wah wah I've exposed countless viewers to visuals of my magnificent cock! What fucking crimes against humanity those are.

And you know what, I see management's plan even deeper than that! I know what they're plotting! They're hoping that I would have been pissed at Korvayne for taking my Xtreme Championship. They're hoping for some dissension in the ranks of the ART Foundation! Well I got news for you pricks! Not only am I NOT upset with Korvayne for what went down at Bad Medicine, but I actually LET HER WIN. It's true, it's true!

Korvayne side-eyes the shit out of Samael. She spins on her heels towards him, gently takes the mic, and whips back around toward the hard camera.

KORVAYNE: You know what? He’s right. He did let me win. Why? Because he had no other choice. He was mesmerized by my wonderful, iconic, world renowned booty that was fitted so tightly and cutely in my outfit that he practically melted. Had I known the rules had changed to the degree they had, if I had been of smarter mind in the moment, I would’ve simply lied down and let him pin me so I’d get my TV Title back and Sam could have that trash strap X Title.

She throws Sam a look over her shoulder, winks, and gives him a suble booty wiggle.

KORVAYNE: But that’s ok. We are about to solve that problem. Right here. Right now. Samael and I are officially SWAPPING TITLES! I am now once again the TV Champion and he is the X Title.

She snaps her fingers. Sam hands her the TV Title and the bum on the outside of the ring tosses the X-Treme Title to Sam. They clang them together and celebrate. The crowd is FURIOUS.

But then….

“Money, Power, Respect” plays and out walks one of the Trillionaires, Mark Zuckerberg.

ZUCKERBERG: Yo yo yo vato locos, I was on my way to flip the fitty and heard all this popping off. So imma pull rank on you and say… NAH DAWGS. No title swaps are happening. Not now. Not ever. Catch ya on the flip side, homeslices.

Before the ART Foundation can protest, he simply leaves.

KORVAYNE: Hey! You can’t just leave like that! Hey! How dare you! Oh you wanna play that game? Okay, you weirdo robot human! Try this on for size. I’m gonna be the longest-reigning X-Treme champion of all time because I am hereby REFUSING to defend it. EVER!

The crowd is in shock. They boo the fuck out of her. The scene fades away to the ART Foundation in a huddle, and Kor tossing the X-Title back out to the bum.

---

JC: Folks, we’re about to roll into our first match of the night!

JR: And these two are coming from very different moments in their careers, Jacuinde! John Black of the THUGS, who has been wrestling in the XWF on and off for over thirteen years… is facing a debuting rookie… one of the most terrifying, intimidating forces we’ve yet to see in the XWF!

JC: It’s about to get wild, Joe!



We see the X-Tron come to life, and we see "John Black" name shot up with the .38 special, then we see on the walkway we see JB standing by the entrance with a towel on his neck. He does some shadowboxing to the camera, then he walks down giving some fans some daps in the process.

JC: Here he is! The Generalissimo of the Thugs! John Black!

JR: He beat the first ever XWF Revolution champ for the belt, and he led the Thugs Revolution for a while thereafter, John Black is unsung royalty in the XWF!

JC: But in his thirteen years in the XWF, has he ever faced anyone… or any THING… like his opponent tonight?

Black then stops by apron, and he throws his towel to the hard cam side. Then he rolls into the ring, and raises his fist in the air and saying "im the man!" as his theme slowly cuts, then he stands in the ring waiting for his opps.

…

The unsettling opening of Rok Nardin’s “Bad Blood” cranks up over the speakers. Fog rises from the aisle, staying at shin level. Through the haze steps Malachi Graves. He’s clad in his reverend attire yet does not appear as relaxed and focused as he would when escorting Judd Hollow to the ring.

He looks anxious, perhaps a little worried. From behind him comes Garisha. Her eyes are wild and bulging; everyone can see it despite her long dark hair being a mess and concealing portions of her face. She’s clad in simple attire. Conservative. Leaving nothing for the perverted minds in the stands and watching on TV to latch onto.

JC: John Black’s opponent tonight, making her XWF debut… the mysterious GARISHA!

JR: She skeeves me out, Jacuinde! It might be her cold dead eyes… or the way she turns to animalistic rage under the right… or the wrong circumstances…

JC: Garisha looked very… impressive? In her first promo this week… but will it be enough to score a victory over a longtime XWF veteran in John Black!


Beside her arrives Dr. Glen. His eyes are focused intently on her, never straying as they head toward the ring. He says stuff to Garisha and Malachi. When they get to the ring steps, Malachi pulls her in close, hugging her. He then places his hands on her shoulders and says things not picked up by the camera.

He then motions up the stairs and she lets out a roar, jetting up the steps in a blur and entering the ring like a woman possessed.

…

JC: "John Black has seen almost everything in the XWF. Tonight, he welcomes Garisha to the XWF."

JR: "Experience versus raw violence. Let's see which wins out."

John Black cracked his neck with a confident smirk. Looking Garisha up and down, he saw a woman a few inches shorter than himself. Broad, certainly. Athletic. Dangerous, maybe. But she'd never shared a ring with someone who'd survived as many wars as he had.

He motioned with one hand.

"Come on."

Garisha simply stared.

Her head tilted.

She didn't blink.

The bell rang.

DING! DING! DING!

Garisha - vs - John Black Singles

Black stepped in first, reaching for a collar-and-elbow tie-up.

Garisha's eyes immediately widened with recognition.

JC: Garisha was looking like a fish out of water until Black tried to grab her.

JR: Then she suddenly looked very familiar with how to respond…

The two locked hands.

John planted his boots, expecting to muscle the rookie backward.

Instead...

Neither wrestler moved.

John's confident grin faded.

Garisha looked almost puzzled.

Then, with a casual shove from her shoulders rather than proper technique—

THUMP!

John stumbled backward three full steps before catching himself.

The crowd murmured.

JR: "Well...there goes the size advantage."

JC: “Garisha just heaved a man twice her weight a good three steps back…”

John rolled his shoulders, forcing a grin back onto his face.

He circled.

This time he attacked low, snatching for a waistlock.

Garisha instinctively reached backward to peel his hands apart.

He slipped behind.

GERMAN SUPLEX! CONNECYS!

JC: What a maneuever by John Black!

Garisha crashed across her shoulders.

John floated over immediately.

ONE—

Garisha threw him completely off before the referee's hand could fall a second time.

John landed on his feet.

Still smiling.

Still in control.

Garisha slowly sat up.

She rubbed the back of her neck.

JC: THat suplex looks like it smarted, Joe!

JR: I don’t think she’s rubbing her neck because it hurt, Jacuinde. I think it’s because she'd never been thrown like that before!

She stood.

John pointed toward his own head.

Garisha stared at him.

Then...

She nodded once.

JR: “...That's not good for John Black."

John came forward again, confidence growing.

He chopped Garisha across the chest.

CRACK!

Another.

CRACK!

Garisha absorbed both blows without so much as taking a step.

John frowned.

He fired a third.

Garisha's hand suddenly shot out.

She caught his wrist.

The arena buzzed.

John immediately tried twisting free.

Garisha squeezed.

John's face tightened.

His wrist refused to move.

She looked down at his trapped arm...

Almost curious.

Then she flicked it away.

John stumbled sideways from the force.

The veteran's confidence finally began giving way to caution.

He bounced lightly on his feet.

No more testing strength.

Speed.

He rushed in with a dropkick.

THUD!

Both boots struck Garisha square in the chest.

She rocked backward.

One step.

John popped back up.

He rushed.

Body shot.

Another.

A haymaker.

Then a scoop slam.

This time Garisha actually hit the mat.

The crowd applauded.

John dropped an elbow across her chest.

Quick cover.

ONE!

Garisha powered out immediately.

Again.

No panic.

No wasted movement.

Just overwhelming strength.

JC: Oh my GOD, Garisha kicks out at one AGAIN!

John took a deep breath.

He reached for another front facelock.

Garisha reacted first this time.

She wrapped both arms around John's waist.

John's eyes widened.

He tried widening his base.

Too late.

Garisha lifted him completely off the canvas.

The crowd gasped.

John instinctively threw elbows into the side of her head.

One.

Two.

Three.

Garisha barely acknowledged them.

Instead...

She began violently shaking him side to side inside the bear hug.

John's entire body whipped back and forth like a ragdoll.

JC: "My God!"

JR: "That's one of her trademark attacks! She's not just squeezing him—she's trying to shake his spine apart!"

Garisha finally hurled him halfway across the ring.

John crashed shoulder-first into the turnbuckles.

John staggered back out, clutching his lower back.

His expression betrayed genuine pain for the first time.

Garisha's eyes followed him.

John shook the cobwebs loose and forced himself back into stance.

He charged.

Garisha met him head-on.

John ducked beneath another grab.

He hooked her for a DDT.

Garisha simply refused to go down.

Instead, she wrapped both hands around his waist...

...and effortlessly deadlifted him upside down.

John's eyes went wide.

"Oh, shi—"

GORD BUSTER!

John bounced face-first off the canvas before rolling onto his back, clutching his jaw.

The crowd groaned.

JR: "See what's happening? Every time John makes a mistake, the punishment gets worse. He's still wrestling. She's starting to hunt."

Garisha took one slow step toward him.

Then another.

John pulled himself up with the ropes, breathing much harder than before… His fingers reach for the turnbuckle pad. The official asks him if he can continue…

His head slowly nods… as his fingers are surreptitiously working to loosen the pad…

Across the ring, Garisha's nostrils flared.

She could smell weakness now.

John was hurt.

Badly.

Her lips peeled back into a savage grin.

She didn't bother circling anymore.

She charged.

A dead sprint.

JC: "Garisha is looking to finish this!"

John's exhausted eyes widened.

At the very last second he sidestepped.

Garisha couldn't stop her momentum.

CRACK!!

Her face smashed directly into the exposed steel turnbuckle!

The entire arena gasped.

JR: "OH MY GOD!"

Garisha's body recoiled violently.

She staggered backward.

Her legs buckled.

Then she collapsed face-first onto the canvas.

John leaned against the ropes, barely staying upright.

A weary grin spread across his bruised face.

He'd done it.

He'd finally outsmarted her.

John dragged himself toward Garisha.

He draped an arm across her chest.

The referee slid into position.

ONE!

John closed his eyes.

TWO!!

THREEEEEEE-NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Garisha's shoulder exploded off the mat.

The arena erupted.

John's eyes flew open.

Disbelief washed over his face.

He looked at the referee.

Then back at Garisha.

JR: "He hit her with exposed steel and she STILL kicked out."

JC: “She’s inhuman, Joe!”

John slowly rose.

He bent over.

Wrapped Garisha's head.

Hooked one arm.

He gritted his teeth.

"Stay down..."

With every ounce of strength remaining, John hauled Garisha upward.

The crowd came alive.

JC: "Here it comes! BLACKA JACKA!!"

John adjusted his grip—

Ready to spike her headfirst.

Garisha's eyelids suddenly opened.

Not frantic.

Focused.

Her eyes locked onto John's face from upside down.

Then...

Without warning...

Her fingers shot forward.

Straight into John's mouth.

The audience collectively recoiled.

JC:  "MANDIBLE CLAW! MANDIBLE CLAW FROM GARISHA!"

JR: “Mandible claw is a wrestling move, Jacuinde! Garisha is just trying to tear John Black’s tongue out of his throat!”

Garisha drove her entire hand deep into John's mouth, forcing his jaw open.

John's eyes bulged.

The Brainbuster grip immediately broke apart.

He stumbled backward, desperately clawing at her wrist.

Garisha refused to let go.

She stepped forward.

Driving him backward.

John gagged.

Coughed.

Tried throwing elbows.

His strikes landed weakly against her ribs.

Garisha's expression never changed.

Her fingers dug deeper.

Her thumb pressed beneath his tongue.

Her other fingers hooked against the back of his jaw.

John's knees buckled.

His face turned crimson.

He desperately reached for the ropes.

His fingertips brushed the top strand...

...then slipped away.

John's body trembled violently.

One last desperate swing.

It barely grazed Garisha's shoulder.

His eyes rolled backward.

His arms went limp.

His entire body sagged.

The referee immediately grabbed his wrist.

It dropped.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

DING! DING! DING!

Winner: Garisha!

Garisha slowly withdrew her hand.

John collapsed face-first at her feet.

She looked down at him.

Breathing heavily.

Blood trickled from her nose where she'd struck the exposed turnbuckle.

It hadn't stopped her.

It had only made her angrier.

Malachi Graves stepped onto the apron, quietly nodding with approval.

Dr. Glen knelt beside the unconscious John Black, checking his condition while the referee raised Garisha's arm.

JR: "John Black wrestled exactly the match he needed to. He outsmarted her, frustrated her, even found an opening with that exposed turnbuckle. But against Garisha... one mistake was all it took. One opening. That's all she ever needed."

JR: "John Black proved why he's a respected veteran tonight... but Garisha proved why the XWF should fear what's just arrived."

---

JC: Folks, the action never slows down in the XWF and next up, we’v-





…

Elon Musk bursts through the curtain, microphone in his hand, flanked by his fellow Trillionaires, Jeff Bezos and the muthafuckin’ ZUCK.

JC: Disregard, folks. The action is about to slow down immensely. If you’d like to turn on anything else right now…

JR: Don’t be a hater, Jacuinde! The Trillionaires are the best part of the XWF!

JC: I think the wrestling is the best part of the show and these three fools don’t know anything about wrestling! They just bought the biggest wrestling product in the world and spend week after week being jackasses!

JR: Jacuinde, you’re just not a businessman. Besides, what channel can these people turn to that isn’t already owned by the Trillies? PBS? Puh-leeze.

Absolutely buried in boos from the wrestling faithful in the crowd, Elon is undeterred climbing up the steps as Bezos and Zuck closely follow him.

ELON: Cut the music.

The music is cut, but the boos for Elon Musk are absolutely defining!

JC: This crowd is booing the hell out of Elon Musk!

JR: Are they saying Boo? Or are they saying Boo-st the show with your presence, Elon?

JC: They’re BOOING! As they should!

Elon raises the microphone!

ELON: We are… fast approaching. The single biggest weekend in the entire year of the wrestling industry. I’m of course talking about…

RELENTLESS!

It’s a full 180 degree turn from boos to cheers! The crowd is fucking AMPED!

JC: This crowd loves Relentless! The single biggest weekend in all of wrestling!

JR: Three straight nights where the action doesn’t slow down! Not even for a second!

ELON: As the Trillionaires, we have promised to make the XWF… which was already the biggest company in the wrestling world… Even BIGGER! Even BETTER! EVEN MORE EFFICIENT!

The crowd grumbles but buzzes with excitement

JR: C’mon, Jacuinde! Even you have to admit the Trillies have made things way more interesting in the XWF! The Universal Title on the line at WarGames! The March Madness to end all March Madnesses!

JC: It’s been a great year! And I credit the talent for that being the best in the world, not the morons sitting in chairs in the back twiddling their thumbs!

ELON: Of course, Relentless is the chance to prove we’ve done just that! By making this weekend the best Relentless of ALL-TIME!

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

The crowd is amped! Elon for once has them eating out of the palm of his hand!

JC: This crowd hates Elon Musk, but they LOVE Relentless!

Elon nods, pleased with himself, as he waves down the crowd that he’s rocked into a fever pitch.

ELON: Now, of course… there’s a tradition every Relentless! One star that has contributed so much to our industry is given a place in the XWF HALL OF LEGENDS!

The crowd goes insane!

JC: The biggest honor in all of wrestling! Who could it be this year?!?

Elon nods as the crowd buzzes with anticipation.

ELON: We Trillionaires considered the question of who should receive this honor long and hard…

Zuck giggles at long and hard. Bezos smacks him in the back of the head.

ELON: And we thought about… this year… the incredible moments we all bore witness too since last Relentless.

Dickie Watson winning the Universal Title at the first ever War Games with ALL Titles on the line!

The crowd screams! A Dickie chant starts!

JC: Is he about to say they’re inducting Dickie?!?

ELON: Wrestling Legend Scoops McGee winning the March Madness tournament and becoming Universal champion AND King of the XWF!

The crowd goes fucking NUTS! Half the crowd starts a SCOOPS chant, while some of the cooler, older school crowd starts a PSY-CHO TER-ROR chant!

JR: Oh! Team Scoops won War Games AND Scoops won March Madness! Could we see Scoops going into the Hall!

ELON: And we saw Sebastian Everett-Bryce becoming the first ever THREE-TIME Universal Champion!

Suddenly, all the voices unite into one EM-PI-RE! EM-PI-RE!

Welcome to the

EM-PI-RE!

JR: SEB has had a storied career in the XWF! Could he become the first ever active Uni champ to be inducted…

Elon nods as the crowd screams, so amped they’re not even sure what they’re cheering for!

ELON: Which brings me to the inductee… Given how incredible this year has been… One name stands out above all! One clear choice when you think about the last calendar year.

JC: He thinks it’s clear?!? Who could it be?!?

ELON: One man has carried this business on his back and earned the status of LEGEND!

And that person is…

…

……

ELON: ME!

Elon points to the X-TRON!



…

Whatever good will the crowd had is fucking gone, they are booing…

SO!

MUCH!

HARDER!

JC:What a TONE-DEAF decision by the Trillionaires!

JR: It makes perfect sense, Jacuinde! What did all those moments have in common? Elon Musk masterminded them!

JC: Oh shuddup, Joe! Elon Musk didn’t do anything except pat himself on the back while the talent bled and sweat in that ring!

Elon Musk nods smiling as the crowd boos!

ELON: And who else could possibly have the IQ to induct me… to recognize my genius except…

Elon looks back at his two fellow Trillies… Bezos looks ready to take the mic… Zuck slicks back his hair all the way, eager to step up…

ELON: MYSELF!

JC: OH MY GOD, HE’S GONNA KEEP TALKING!

JR: It’s like my personal Christmas!

ELON: And tonight, as a special treat, I’ll give you a preview of the induction speech I’ll be giving myself at Relentless Weekend!

The crowd boos as Zuck and Bezos look… surprised and miffed… Meanwhile, Elon pulls a notecard from his blazer inside pocket.

ELON: Ahem. It is an hon-





THE ROOF COMES ABSOLUTELY UNGLUED AT THE SOUND OF SCOOPS MCGEE’S THEME!

JC: Is that who I think it is?!

JR: Well gee Jack, I really wonder who’s theme that could be!

Elon stares at the entrance ramp with a twitching eye as a familiar figure bursts through the curtains!

AND IT’S NONE OTHER THAN SCOOPS MCGEE!

He shuffles his way out of the back, looking sunken and disheveled as he stares daggers at Elon from the entrance ramp! He grips his mic with an iron fist as he shouts!

SCOOPS: That’s enough of this goddamned mealy-mouth bullshit I’m hearin’ you spew!

Big pop from the crowd as Elon rolls his eyes!

ELON: I’m sorry, Mister McGee, but you look a little too worse for wear to be stepping foot into an XWF ring. The retirement home is that wa-

SCOOPS: No, no, no, no, no, no, NO!

Scoops barks as he staggers his way down the ramp, his age beginning to show as he grits his teeth, methodically stomping his way up the steps before he goes in through the ropes.

SCOOPS: You’ve had all the time in the world playin’ yappity-sax in the middle of this here ring, and I’m fuckin’ SICK of it! Who the fuck do you think you are?

Elon takes a minute to think on it, before coming to the most natural conclusion.

ELON: The man who’s conquered Earth and space alike… the man who’s overseen one of the most successful company years in recent memory… the rightful inductee into the Hall of Legends, and… oh, that’s right. Your boss.

SCOOPS: Boah, you know good and goddamned well I don’t give a rat’s ass about who you claim to be the boss of!

Scoops marches right up to Elon, jabbing a finger right into his chest! Elon looks affronted as he has to back up!

JR: Look at him, Jack! He’s laying his hands on the boss!

JC: Scoops McGee has had it up to here with Elon Musk! He’s been trying to get rid of Scoops basically ever since he took over as the head of the company!

SCOOPS: In case you’ve forgotten, I’m the fuckin’ KING of this place! You ain’t gettin’ rid of me that easy, and if I gotta drag you and yer’ rich bitch buddies to the grave with me, then so fuckin’ be it! Because I ain’t lettin’ you make a mockery of this place any more!

Elon starts to cower in the corner as Scoops jabs a finger into his chest, the other Trillies doing nothing to back him up…

JC: I think Elon knows he can’t take Scoops in a one-on-one fight! He’s utterly helpless!

When suddenly a masked man bursts from the back and storms down the ramp and into the ring!



JC: ...Who the fuck is this guy?

The sentai-suit looking ninja slides under the bottom rope with surprising agility.

Scoops reels his arm back, as Elon pleads for mercy, looking for a…

CATTLE PR-

Wham!  The masked man arm-traps Scoops from behind and circles him away from Elon!

JR: I don’t know who this guy is… but it seems like he has Elon’s back…?

Scoops staggers back a step…. He looks confounded and irritated with this interloper…

Scoops is saying something the camera can’t pick up… The cyborg looks unmoved.

JC: I think Scoops might be trying to figure out who the hell just stopped him from popping Elon’s head like an overripe grape!

Scoops squints perplexedly at whoever the hell he’s sharing the ring wi-

WHAM! All of a sudden, the ninja’s boot surges forward, looking to catch Scoops in the chest!

JC: Dirty move! Trying to catch Scoops off-guard!

Scoops narrowly staggers back, avoiding the blow! The Ninja follows it up with an elbow that Scoops ducks under, a spinning backfist that Scoops narrowly back-steps to avoid, giving Scoops his back!

JR: Uh oh! I think that ninja might have overplayed his hand! He’s given Scoops his back!

Scoops reels back, looking for a…

LARIAT!

…But the Ninja backflips over Scoops!

JR: Holy cow! Look at the agility!

Scoops watches the mystery man sail over him…

The moment the enigma’s feet hit the ground… He hits Scoops with a dropkick to the back!

Scoops tumbles out through the ropes, landing on his feet!

JC: Wow! What a sequence there!

JR: The ninja just outwrestled Scoops McGee!

JC: A surprise opponent side-swiped McGee and caught him off balance, more like!

The crowd buzzes with intrigue as Scoops and the mystery man stare down, Scoops outside the ring, the mystery man staring down at him from inside…

Suddenly, the mystery man reaches for his wrist. And starts typing…



JC: …Wait. Is that Ninja the asshole that’s been tweeting on the XWF site? Is that @getouttamyringerson?

JR: Who the hell is this guy anyway?

Elon stands beside Scoops as @getouttamyringerson finishes adding hash tags to his tweet… er, X.

ELON: Scoops. Elon sneers. ELON: Ever since you lost that Universal title, I’ve found myself asking… why the Hell are you still here?

BOOOOOOOO! The crowd hates that!

ELON: You’re over the hill, past your prime… You’re better suited for Sunday morning Bingo than active competition…

The crowd’s boos get louder. Elon smiles…

ELON: But I just thought of something I’d like you to do… INDUCT ME INTO THE XWF HALL OF LEGENDS!

JC: Oh shit! What?

ELON: One match! At Relentless! You versus the Trillionaire’s champion! Elon nods at the cyborg. If you lose? You have to induct ME into your precious wrestling Hall of Legends!

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Scoops strokes his chin, sneering with distaste. It’s obvious he doesn’t like that idea…

SCOOPS: What about iffin’ I win?

Elon pshes that notion…

ELON: Well!

…before scratching his own chin.

ELON: …Er… what… what would you like?

Scoops smiles ear-to-ear.

SCOOPS: When I win… You three carpetbaggin’ lilly-livered JACKASSES give up your ownership stake to the XWF!

OH SHIT! THE CROWD IS GOING FUCKING NUTS AT THE IDEA OF THE TRILLIES BEING OUT!

Bezos and Zuck want to huddle and talk this out… but Elon is already smiling.

ELON: Done.

JC: What?!? Seriously?!?

Bezos and Zuck are horrified, they’re talking to Elon about how he can make this call without their input.

Scoops nods, ready to walk up the ramp to the back.

ELON: Oh… one last thing, Scoops.

Scoops turns around to face Elon, leaning on his champion’s shoulder.

ELON: Just to be clear. You have to beat…[/green[ Elon points at his ninja. [green]The Trillionaire’s champion.
SCOOPS: No shit, I got that, boah.

ELON: And… Elon points at Zuck’s chest. THIS Trillionaire’s champion.

…

ELON: And… Elon points at Bezos’ chest. THIS Trillionaire’s champion.

JC: What’s he talking about?!?

ELON: That’s right, Scoops. If you want us out? You’ll have to beat someone EVERY NIGHT OF RELENTLESS WEEKEND!

JC: WHAT?!?

Scoops sneers at Elon’s sudden changing the game.

…Before spitting on the ramp.

SCOOPS: Done.

JC: OH MY GOD! Scoops is taking Elon up on his bet! Scoops is gonna have to wrestle THREE times over Relentless!

JR: But who will he face?!? Who will represent the Trillionaires?!?

JC: Tune into Relentless to find out!

---

JC: Folks, this next match promises to be a thrill ride! We’re about to see the Edgecrusher, former AWF United States champion, take on one of the most dynamic stars in the XWF, Solomon Kline!

A voice booms over the arena's speakers.

"DUE TO THE NATURE OF THIS PROGRAM, LISTENER DISCRETION IS ADVISED."

The sound of a record scratch quickly follows then the detuned roar of a 7-string guitar rocks the arena. The riff is simple, just a basic power chord progression with single note palm mutes between.  It's simplicity keeping the rhythm tight and rattles the rafters.

JR: Edgecrusher looks… a little different than his AWF days!

JC: Twenty years changes people!

JR: Twenty years and… maybe eighty pounds!

The Edgecrusher steps out onto the ramp, looks over the crowd of people who could really care less. Somebody throws some random trash. The Edgecrusher just shrugs and jobber jogs to the ring. He seems to run low on energy halfway, his pace begins to slow. A bead of sweat forms on his brow and his breathing is showing signs of obvious struggles. By the time he makes it to the ring he is battling to even lift his feet and is wheezing like he just smoked several packs of cigarettes. He doesn't get into the ring, instead he opts to have a seat on the ring steps. We can hear him shouting at the ref.

Edgecrusher: Just a breather (gasp) I'm good (gasp) Just bring out Salami (gasp) Klingon.

JR: …I think Edgecrusher got winded jogging to the ring.

JC: Not a great sign for his stamina, but… you know… he’ll have his opponent’s very explosive entrance to catch his breath!

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.

JC: Solomon Kline! The self-declared Rookie of the Year looking even better in his sophomore season!

JR: Kline’s dangerous, Jacuinde, in that he’s been frustrated by his recent outcomes! He knows he can do better! He knows he can be better! And win against the best the XWF has to offer!

JC: He definitely looks bigger than Edgecrusher… And stronger than Edgecrusher… and in better shape than Edgecrusher.

JR: …But, Jacuinde?

JC: But what, Joe? I was just making observations.

As Kline 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. Outside the ring the Edgecrusher finally gets up from the ring steps. He leans against the ring and struggles to pull himself up and rolls in. He uses the middle rope to pull himself up then leans against the top rope attempting to catch his breath. Between gasps we can hear him talking to the ref, who is now checking on the welfare of the combatant.

Edgecrusher: I... (gasp) I'm... (gasp)fine. (gasp) Just need a second. (gasp) why didn't I (gasp) get a motorcycle?

JC: It… appears as if Edgecrusher, in fact, did NOT catch his breath during Kline’s entrance!

JR: I mean, Kline’s motorcycle entrance is breath taking! Someone get Edgecrusher an oxygen tank! Or maybe a good hoagie from craft services, his blood sugar is low!

The ref continues to ask if the Edgecrusher is sure he can continue. EC just waves him off and the ref obliges calling for the bell. Solomon just watches from across the ring.

*DING DING*

Solomon Kline - vs - The Edgecrusher Singles

The Edgecrusher rolls out the ring landing hard face first and doesn't move. The ref looks toward Solomon then back to the Edgecrusher's lifeless body.

Ref: ONE!

The Edgecrusher starts to stir

Ref: TWO!

He slowly begins to pull himself back up.

Ref: THREE!

The Edgecrusher is now in a kneeling position.

REF: FOUR!

The Edgecrusher still kneeling.

REF: FIVE!

He lifts his head up, his face is beet red.

Ref: SIX! SEVEN!

He finally pulls himself back to his feet.

Ref: EIGHT!

He reaches for the ropes to pull himself up.

Ref: NINE!

The last bit of the Edgecrushers strength begins to leave him. His grip weakens and he falls backwards landing hard again, this time directly on his shoulder.

Ref: TEN!

Winner: Solomon Kline

JC: …Huh. Well… Kline wins!

JR: A W is a W, though I gotta imagine Kline would have preferred an actual opponent to trounce… but Kline might go down in the record books for fastest win in XWF history!

JC: He didn’t even need to hit a move! EC passed out from sheer intimidation!

The ref calls for the bell declaring Solomon Kline the winner via count-out. As Kline celebrates his victory in the ring outside EC has gotten back to his feet. He holds both arms up in the air and crosses them in an "X" pattern. The universal sign for an injured wrestler. He flashes it at the backstage area then at the ref.  Two paramedics come running out, one of them pulling an oxygen tank behind him. They tend to the Edgecrusher, checking his vitals and allowing him to breathe from the tank. They give him the "all good" and attempt to help him walk back to the locker room, he refuses and points towards the back. Another paramedic comes running out, this one is pushing a stretcher. EC lays down so they can properly put him onto the stretcher. As they are strapping him down he demands a neck brace and they don't even bother questioning it. They wheel him to the back, before he disappears from view he gives a thumbs up to assure the fans he's okay.

---

Tig Collins: This match is scheduled for one fall and it’s a number one contender match for the Blade Championship!!

Tig Collins: Introducing first… from San Francisco, California… weighting 228 pounds… Main Event Jay Fettttuuuuuuuu!!

Main Event Ish hits and he walks out behind the XWF Universe wearing an Yeet Sunglasses and a Yeet shirt with a Fetu logo on the side of his pants and a Yeet on the right side and he makes a stop near the steps and raise his hands up and wave'em his Yeet hands and the Universe was following him and they were doing it alone side with him and he kepts on walking down the stairs and slapping kids and adults high five and making his way down the ring and climbs over the barricade and sees two Commentary of Bama and Todd slapping hands aloneside with Jey Fetu and he gets inside of the ring in climbs on the top rope and continues  waving his Yeet hands towards the Universe and he gets down and the XWF Universe shouts replay it once more and he does and gets right back up on the top rope and repeat the same Yeeting with the Universe and hops down and music fades and waits for his Opponent to appear
Tig Collins: And his opponent…

When The Storm is Coming hits Latoya Hixx.

Tig Collins: From Verto Beach California, weighing in at 160 pounds, Latooyyyyyya Hiiiiiiiiixx!!

they heard a voice laugh in the background and saw blue lights from the entrance and some smoke and rainfall coming down she walked onto the middle stage flexed her muscles walked straight down towards the aisle slapped a few XWF fans got inside the ring and dim the lights in the ring and she flexes her arms once more and spread her arms and climbs on the top rope and yell at her fans and tells them to let's go and climbs down off the ropes and waits for her Opponent to arrive.

DING! DING! DING!

#1 Contender’s Match for the Blade Championship Blade Latoya Hixx - vs - ‘Main Event’ Jay Fetu Singles

The two immediately meet in the center of the ring. Neither competitor giving each other an inch. They explode into a collar-and-elbow tie-up. Latoya forces Fetu backward with a huge shove causing him to fall backward, but Fetu pops back to his feet wearing a grin…

“YEET! YEET! YEET!”

JR: “What power from Latoya Hixx!”

JC: “And Jay’s smiling. I don’t know if that’s confidence or insanity.”

Fetu circles again before darting forward with a few quick strikes. A sharp right hand catches Latoya, followed by a stiff forearm and a running corkscrew forearm that finally rocks the powerhouse. Fetu runs backward and rebounds off the ropes, lunging forward with a super kick!!

Latoya staggers but doesn’t fall. She stumbles forward and answers with a thunderous clothesline that flips Fetu onto his stomach…

JC “Good Lord! Jay Fetu just got turned inside out!”

JR: “That’s why they call her The Storm. One shot changes everything.”
Hixx wastes no time. She picks Fetu up and launches him overhead with a Release German Suplex. Fetu tries to quickly recover but Hixx runs forward and drives a knee into the side of his face as he’s pulling himself up.

Latoya stands Fetu up and Irish whips him into the corner. Fetu stumbles out of the corner… SPEAR!

Latoya hooks the leg…

ONE!
.
.
TWO!

KICKOUT!!

JR: “Jay Fetu survives!”

JC: “That would’ve finished a lot of people. Somehow, Fetu is still in the match!!”

Growing frustrated, Latoya pulls Fetu up for the Latoya Slam. She traps both arms and lefts Fetu, but Fetu suddenly shifts his weight and slips free behind her. He shoves Latoya into the ropes and causes her to recoil back in his direction. He plant a foot directly to her chin

SUPERKICK!

Hixx stumbles into the ropes again and shoots back in a groggy state. Fetu leans down and lifts her over his shoulders, dropping her back with a Samoan drop…

Fetu makes a cover, hooking the leg…

ONE!
.
.
TWO!

KICKOUT!!


JR: “Samoan Drop is not enough to keep Latoya Hixx down

JC: “Jay is going to have to dig in deeper than this to win this match, Joe Rogan!!”

Fetu slowly drags himself toward the nearest corner. Latoya is barely stirring. Jay makes a climb to the top rope and steadies himself. Jumping into the air, Fetu gets massive height FETU SPLASH!

Hixx rolls away at the last possible second causing Jay to hit the mat hard. She climbs to her feet and slowly lifts Fatu to a stand. Hixx gives Fetu a boot in the stomach causing him to buckle forward. She wraps her arm around his neck and lifts stalking him in the air for a few moments before crashing him down with a stalling suplex.

JC: “After that stalling suplex, this may be the opportunity Latoya Hixx needs!!”

JR: “Her power is unmatched, but we will have to see if she can take advantage now. Jay almost hit that Fetu Splash earlier, it would have been lights out!”

Hixx lifts Fetu up again. She sends him into the corner and he bounces off of the turnbuckles stumbling forward. As Hixx does for a clothesline, Jay Fetu ducks under it and grabs the back of her neck, driving her down with a desperation neck breaker. He stands to his feet and then runs toward the ropes, rebounding while Latoya rolls on her stomach. Jay jumps into the air and drops a leg across her neck.

Fetu goes for a cover…

ONE!
.
.
TWO!

KICKOUT!!


Jay Fetu lifts Hixx to a standing position. He goes to kick her in the stomach, but she blocks it off and then knees him in the stomach. Fetu buckles forward.

Latoya wastes no time. She hooks both arms, looking for the LATOYA SLAM. The powerhouse muscles him off the canvas…

…but Fetu kicks his legs wildly, forcing her balance backward. Before she can fully plant him, he drives repeated elbows into the side of her head. The grip loosens just enough for Fetu to slip free. He hops into the arm and extends his leg out spinning forward and drilling Latoya with a Enzuguri!

The kick catches Latoya flush across the temple.

JR: “What awareness by Jay Fetu! He knew he couldn’t out-muscle her, so he attacked the head!”

JC: “That’s survival instinct, Joe! That’s ring IQ! Jay Fetu really wants that Blade Championship opportunity…”

Latoya drops to one knee but refuses to stay there. She snarls through gritted teeth and rises anyway. This causes Fetu to charge forward, but as he does, Latoya springs to her feet and catches him with a overhead Belly To Belly Suplex!!
Fetu crashes nearly halfway across the ring, rolling exhaustedly onto his back. Latoya drops down and hooks the leg…

ONE!
.
.
TWO!

KICKOUT!!

Latoya breathes heavily as she stands to her feet. Jay climbs to a knee as Hixx stalks toward him. She grabs Fetu by the wrist and whips him into the ropes.

He rebounds, Hixx goes for a big boot, but Fetu basball slides under it…

Latoya turns…

SUPERKICK! Latoya Hixx staggers and drops to a knee. Fetu comes forward and connects another one. Latoya drops and Jay runs into the ropes. He comes back in her direction and jumps into the air landing on Hixx with his back executing and senton…

JR: “Jay is throwing everything he’s got at her!”

JC: “Because he knows one mistake means game over!”

Fetu lifts Latoya up, but Latoya counters by driving a elbow into his ribs and then lifting him over her shoulders. She quickly drives Fetu down with a fireman’s carry slam. Latoya smells victory and grabs Jay by the hair lifting him to his feet, but Fetu does a counter of his own as he comes up he grips Latoya by the back of the head and drops down into seated position with a jawbreaker.

Latoya staggers and stumbles around the ring. Fetu hits the ropes and comes back drilling her with a SPEAR! Jay Fetu quickly goes to the corner and makes a climb to the top rope….

The crowd begins to buzz.

“YEET! YEET! YEET!”

JR: “If he hits this…”

JC: “…it’s over.”

Fetu launches himself, getting massive height and connecting a FETU SPLASH!!

He crashes chest-first across Latoya Hixx.

He hooks both legs tightly.

ONE!
.
.
TWO!
.
.
.
THREE!!

DING! DING! DING!

Winner and NEW #1 Contender to the Blade Championship Blade: ‘Main Event’ Jay Fetu

Tig Collins: “ The winner of the match and your number one contender for the XWF Blade Championship, Main Event- Jaaaaaay Fetttttttttu!!

JR: “What a war! Latoya Hixx pushed Jay Fetu to his absolute limit tonight!”

JC: “The Storm had him beat more than once, but Jay never stopped fighting. He survived the power, weathered the storm, and one perfectly timed Fetu Splash sealed the victory!”

JR: “If this is what both competitors bring every time they step into an XWF ring, their futures are incredibly bright.”

Fetu slowly rises, exhausted, clutching his ribs as the referee raises his hand. Across the ring,

Latoya sits up against the turnbuckles, disappointed but earning a standing ovation for her performance…

---

JC: What an incredible match we just witnessed!

JR: Yeah, that’s definitely going to be hard to top. The road to Red Dead Relentless has begun! The biggest show of the year! Maybe the decade!

JC: Of course and we should be getting into our next match momentarily, folks. I’d like to remind you that…



“Hollywood” by Motionless in White starts pumping through the Moda Center.

“It’s always on the weekend, like neon in the night, when Hollywood is bleeding it never seems to die.”

A movie trailer announcer voice comes on.

Ladies and gentlemen. The Man…has come home.

The lights flicker. One firework shoots from the top of the arena down to the stage. Boom! A man appears, wearing a black hoodie and black leather pants with blue flames at the bottom. A spotlight shines on him as he lifts his head and pulls back the hood to reveal…





JR: Is that who I think it is?

JC: If you’re thinking what I’m thinking, that’s “Mr. Amazing” Vincent Jamison!

JR: Who?!

JC: Mr. Amazing. He’s an XWF alum from the Jonathyn Brown era! He hasn’t been seen on XWF television for fourteen years!

Some fans cheer for the XWF classic roster member, but younger fans don’t know what to make of him. He makes his way to the ring, microphone already in hand. His music fades, but the fans don’t. He stands in the center of the ring and takes it all in for a moment before raising the mic to his lips.

Vincent Jamison: Portland, Oregon. How the fuck are we tonight?

Cheers erupt. The crowd is electric.

VJ: Man, it feels good to be back home. You might be wondering why I’m here. Some of you thought I’d retired. It’s me, I’m some of you. I’m going to be so for real, guys. Truth is, life is good. I have been blessed enough to not need the money from wrestling. I’m grateful for all the opportunities the XWF has afforded me and the fact I was wise enough to make good investments.

VJ: I did some cool shit in my time. I stood on both sides of legends like Steve Jason, Blizzard, Trent Gein, Bigg Rigg, K-Money, T-Money, Ranma Saotome, Drake Komodo, James Raven, Hardcore Smitty, Famine of the Vile…I could go on forever. Hell, I even pinned Lee Stone once. Biggest accomplishment for me, at least. So you’d think I’d be cool with just being one of the good ones. By all accounts I was there. I was among the greats.

The fans cheer for some of the big names he mentioned.

VJ: But I’m not. I see names like Centurion and Michael Graves becoming champions in this era and I get a little of the itch. I see the son of a longtime friend in Crimson Kline clawing toward the top and I feel a little something inside. I see one of my best friends, Aidan Collins walk back in here last year and have another run. Almost capturing the tag titles. Almost winning the Leap of Faith match. It reminds me the XWF has always been where the best wrestle. In any era. I see a ton of newer stars I’ve never been in a ring with and if I’m coming back for one last good run? If I want a chance to finally achieve my dream of winning the Universal title since my debut twenty years ago, to be placed in the hall of Legends amongst my peers? I had to take that chance.

VJ: What better time to come back then on the road to Red Dead Relentless? A show that didn’t exist when I left. Back then, I’d be cutting a promo on Monday Night Massacre. I’m not going to pretend that being away this long entitles me to anything. I want to earn it. If I want title shots, I know I have to go through the best the XWF of today has to offer. So here it is. My old ass is issuing an open challenge for next Warfare. I don’t care if it’s singles, tag, or any other wild kind of match. I’m here, still in peak physical form and I’m ready for one last good run. Now I’m gonna be a good little XWF OG and let ya’ll get back to the rest of the show. You can stop listening now because The Man. Has. Spoken!

The crowd cheers once again as “Mr. Amazing” Vincent Jamison heads back up the ramp and his music plays him out.

---

JC: What?!? No freaking way! Is he here? Is Razor Blade in the building?!?

JR: I cannot believe it! Razor Blade showed up for the match he’s booked for!




JC: Razor Blade! The American Nightmare! It’s been a while since we’ve seen him in an XWF ring, Jacuinde!

JR: But we did see him at Bad Medicine, Jacuinde! Not in the ring, but he watched the Blade Championship Blade with great care with John, the Hixxes and Jay Fetu all battled for it!!

JC: Absolutely! The Blade Family… The Chain Gang! They waged war with Razor’s approval and John Blade came out the victor! But tonight, he’s competing for the right to wield the Blade Championship Blade!

JR: We know Jay Fetu is the Number One Contender for the Blade because he beat Latoya Hixx earlier tonight! The question is… who will he be facing?



…



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 f-... wait, no fans over on that side. He just tossed it into the abyss. Regardless, he salutes and runs straight down towards the platform!

JC: There he is! The “Surgeon of Thug”! The “Chain Gang”! John Blade! THE WIELDER OF THE BLADE CHAMPIONSHIP BLADE!

JR: He had to beat two people in one night! He faced off with ‘Main Event’ Jay Fetu and then narrowly cleared the wily Deena Hixx! But somehow, some way, John Blade walked out of Bad Medicine with the Blade Championship Blade!

JC: But he might have his stiffest challenge yet! We saw Razor lead Team Blade to victory at War Games! We’ve seen him beat his longtime partner Latoya Hixx in a Last Man Standing match…

JR: Although when he talks about that match, he talks like he lost for… some reason?

JC: Either way, Razor has proven time and time again to be among the most talented competitors in the Blade Championship Division. Can he become the division’s top champion tonight?

John Blade stands tall, handing off the Blade Championship Blade to the referee outside the ring, his jaw set in stubborn determination. His eyes never leave Razor Blade as he slowly raises one finger and points directly at the center of the mat.

JC: "No cheap shots. No shortcuts. John Blade wants to prove he's the rightful face of the Blade Division under Pure Wrestling Rules."

JF "That's either confidence or stupidity. Depends how hard Razor hits."

Across from him, Razor Blade narrows his eyes. His lips curl into the faintest smirk—not amused, but insulted. John pointing to the center isn't just inviting a contest; it's implying Razor has something to prove. Razor rolls his shoulders, cracks his neck, and confidently steps forward until they're nearly nose-to-nose.

BLADE CHAMPIONSHIP BLADE MATCH John Blade © - vs - Razor Blade Pure Wrestling Rules Match

The bell rings!

…Neither man rushes forward.

Without another word, both men simultaneously extend a hand.

The arena applauds.

They shake.

The instant their palms separate, both explode into collar-and-elbow tie-up.

Each man digs his boots into the canvas.

Each refuses to yield an inch.

Muscles tense.

Foreheads press together.

Neither competitor is trying to outmuscle the other so much as send a message.

JR: "Look at that. They're treating this like two alpha wolves locking antlers."

JC: “Yeah, an-… wait, wolves don’t have antlers?”

JR: “It’s a figure of speech!”

JC: “Shouldn’t figures of speech make sense?”

JR: “Eh, six of one… saves nine!”

John grits his teeth before subtly shifting his hips underneath Razor's center of gravity.

Using leverage instead of brute strength, John pivots into a standing side headlock.

Razor's eyebrows knit together in irritation. Rather than panic, he plants one hand against John's ribs, wraps the other around John's waist, and powers him toward the ropes.

John rebounds.

Razor lowers his shoulder.

John calmly hurdles over him.

Razor instantly spins around.

John rebounds again.

This time Razor drops flat.

John leaps over him.

Again.

Again.

On the fourth pass, Razor's eyes widen just enough to recognize John's rhythm.

Instead of staying down, Razor springs to his feet.

Both men slam on the brakes simultaneously.

The crowd erupts.

Neither man had been caught.

Neither man had outsmarted the other.

They simply nod.

JC "What incredible awareness!"

John's smile grows just a little wider.

He motions for another lockup.

Razor obliges.

This time Razor slips behind immediately into a waistlock.

John's face tightens with concentration.

He reaches down, hooks Razor's wrist, and snaps into a standing switch behind him.

JC: Quick moves by the champion! Now it's Razor's turn to react!

Razor’s eyes dart toward the ropes.

Instead of struggling, he abruptly throws his own weight backward.

John instinctively braces—

—and Razor uses that split second to hook an inside trip.

Both crash to the mat.

Razor immediately floats into a front facelock.

John grimaces, refusing to allow Razor to establish control. His knees quickly slide underneath him before he rotates toward Razor's trapped side, relieving the pressure.

Seeing his advantage slipping away, Razor quickly transitions into another side headlock.

John answers by wrapping Razor's waist.

With a determined grunt, he lifts.

Beautiful backdrop suplex.

Both men bridge upward almost simultaneously.

John reaches one knee first.

Razor reaches both feet first.

They square up again.

Another applause break.

JC: "This is chess. Nobody wants to blink."

JR: No, I’m pretty sure this is wrestling. Chess has colored squares and the ring is all the same color.

John wipes sweat from his forehead before confidently tapping the side of his own skull.

Razor notices the gesture.

His expression hardens.

JR: Uh oh… I think John Blade is insinuating he’s smarter than Razor!

JC: Even if that might be true, it’s not a sign of intelligence to piss off Razor Blade!

You think you're smarter than me?

He suddenly fires the first strike of the match—

A blistering knife-edge chop.

CRACK!

John winces as his chest instantly reddens.

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

John slowly looks down at the mark.

Then back up.

A grin spreads across his face.

Without hesitation—

CRACK!

His own chop echoes even louder.

Razor's chest turns crimson.

Now Razor smiles.

Another chop.

John answers.

Another.

Another.

The rhythm builds.

The crowd begins counting every strike.

By the tenth exchange both men's chests are glowing bright red.

Finally Razor's face twists from determination into frustration.

Enough.

He abruptly changes levels.

Double-leg takedown.

John crashes backward.

Razor immediately steps through the legs.

Boston Crab attempt.

John's eyes flash with alarm.

He desperately claws forward before the hold is fully secured.

Fingertips...

Ropes.

The referee immediately orders the break!

ROPE BREAK! John Blade has two remaining!

JC: Remember Pure Wrestling Rules! No closed fist strikes and each competitor gets three rope breaks! The champion used one and now Razor has to release the hold!

JR: Someone tell Razor that!

Razor exhales through his nose, holding the Boston Crab… John clings onto the ropes as the official counts over Razor’s head!

Razor holds on…

…

Before releasing cleanly at four!

JC: Very intentionally move by Razor there! Those extra four seconds did a lot of damage to John Blade’s spine!

John cradles his aching spine as the official asks if he can continue. John says something… the official squints confused.

JC: Did the ref understand what John said?

JR: I don’t think so. The ref doesn’t speak Mandarin.

Before the official can respond, John shoves off the ropes and goes to circle-step with Razor.

Razor and John circle, looking for an opening, each sizing up their opponent before the next grapple…

John surges a half-step… Razor staggers back out of each, rotating his shoulder on his backfoot…

JC: Uh oh! I think John’s noticed Razor favoring that shoulder! Lotta grappling putting tension there!

JR: And now his eyes are sharp! Like a surgeon spotting the perfect spot to cut!

John grins… Razor sees that as a dare to charge! He surges forward…

But John drops his shoulder and hurls Razor over with an arm drag!

Another!

ANOTHER!

JR: Each arm drag is cleaner than the last!

JC: John is peppering Razor with quick arm drags, forcing that shoulder to absorb the impact each time they hit the mat! He’s found an opening and he’s targeting it with all he’s got!

Razor rolls through the third one and lands in a crouch, his teeth clenched as he instinctively rubs at the aching shoulder. The irritation flashes across his face for only a moment before pride buries it.

Razor suddenly lunges forward with surprising explosiveness.

He catches John with a deep standing wristlock.

The torque forces John down onto one knee.

John's confident expression immediately tightens into discomfort as Razor twists the arm another quarter turn.

JR: "That's nasty. You feel that all the way into your neck."

John exhales slowly through pursed lips. His free hand reaches toward Razor's elbow, feeling for the pressure point before rolling forward into a somersault that unwinds the hold. He springs back to his feet, maintaining wrist control of Razor's arm.

The crowd applauds another seamless exchange.

John's grip tightens around Razor's wrist as confidence flashes across his face. If he can keep Razor grounded, keep him reacting instead of dictating, then the Blade Championship stays exactly where it belongs.

Razor's jaw clenches.

Not because of the pain...

Because John is beginning to control the tempo.

With an angry snarl, Razor suddenly spins beneath the captured arm.

The rotation twists John's shoulder instead.

John's eyes widen.

Razor rips free!

Without hesitating, Razor swings his good arm—

SMACK!

A blistering European uppercut rocks John's jaw!

John stumbles backward three steps.

His tongue instinctively presses against the inside of his cheek.

The taste of blood.

His expression hardens.

Good.

Now it's a fight.

John explodes forward—

Another uppercut!

Razor's head snaps backward.

But instead of retreating, Razor bares his teeth.

He answers with one of his own!

John fires back!

Razor answers!

Again!

Again!

Each strike lands harder than the last.

Neither man is trying to outscore the other anymore.

They're trying to break the other's resolve.

JC: This match has completely changed! We've gone from technical mastery to two proud warriors trying to prove whose heart is stronger!

JR: Sometimes that's how wrestling works! You spend fifteen minutes solving the puzzle, then somebody gets punched in the mouth and the puzzle catches on fire!

JC: …Joe, I don’t know if they teach a class for extended metaphors, but I feel like you shouldn’t be allowed to use them.

John's chest heaves.

Razor's shoulder burns.

John suddenly plants both feet.

He lunges.

Running clothesline!

Razor's eyes flash with urgency.

He ducks underneath!

John keeps running.

He rebounds off the far ropes.

Razor plants himself.

Body Slam attempt! Razor lifts John!

NO! John desperately kicks his legs! He slips behind, before wrapping his arms around Razor!

Rear waistlock!

Razor's face twists with frustration.

He immediately throws a back elbow—

John ducks, catches Razor in another grip!

Belly-to-belly suplex attempt!

NO! Razor desperately widens his base, stopping John from lifting him!

And Razor headbutts John!

JC: Whoa! I thought this was pure wrestling rules!

JR: Did he use a closed fist? No? Then it’s all legal!

John looks dazed on his feet, clinging to Razor in a grapple as Razor reels back his arm!

He throws an elbow.

Another!

ANOTHER!

John releases the grappl!

Razor spins—

Running dropkick!

THUD!

John crashes into the corner.

The crowd erupts.

Razor's breathing grows heavier.

His shoulder screams every time he moves.

He ignores it.

This is his moment.

He charges.

Corner clothesline!

John absorbs it.

Razor immediately hooks him.

Bulldog—

NO!

John plants his feet.

Razor tries again.

John shoves him away!

Razor rebounds off the ropes.

John catches him!

SPINEBUSTER!

The ring shakes.

John collapses on top of Razor! The official counts!

ONE!

TWO!

THR-NOOOOOO! RAZOR KICKS OUT!

The crowd pops! Both men remain down!

JC: This is insane! Every counter is taking just as much out of the man delivering it!

JR: They're emptying the gas tank to get across the finish line, Jacuinde! Nobody wants this going another five minutes!

The referee begins counting.

One...

Two...

Three...

John rolls toward the ropes.

Razor crawls toward the opposite corner.

Four...

Five...

Both reach their feet.

Their eyes meet once again.

No smiles now.

No respect.

Just desperation.

John grits his teeth before charging.

Leaping shoulder tackle!

Razor absorbs it!

He refuses to fall!

Instead his eyes blaze with determination.

If brute force won't stop John...

One perfect move will.

Razor suddenly hooks both of John's arms.

He steps around.

JC: Razor’s going for it! The BLADE ROSE!

The crowd rises.

John's eyes go wide.

Razor secures John in guillotine position…

He spins!

BLADE ROSE (Cross Rhodes)

…

ARE YOU SURE ABOUT THAT?

John shifts his weight at the last possible second.

Standing switch!

Now he's behind Razor!

Razor's face floods with panic.

Instinct takes over.

He whips a desperation back elbow toward John's jaw—

John ducks underneath!

Without even turning around completely, John springs toward the corner!

One foot!

Second rope!

He launches backward—

SPRINGBOARD STUNNER!!

CRACK!!

Razor's head whiplashes violently.

His body spins nearly a full revolution before his knees buckle beneath him.

The arena explodes.

JC: SPRINGBOARD STUNNER!! HE GOT ALL OF IT!!

JR: THAT SCRAMBLED HIS BRAIN! HE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW WHAT YEAR IT IS!

John staggers, barely able to remain standing himself.

His lungs burn.

His back aches.

His vision blurs.

But he sees Razor swaying helplessly.

One chance.

One final chance.

John lets out a roar as adrenaline drowns out every ounce of pain.

He scoops Razor onto his shoulders.

Fireman's carry.

Razor weakly pounds against John's back...

Not enough.

John plants his feet.

Turns—

DEATH!

...

VALLEY!!

...

DRIVERRRRRRR!!!!!

The ring erupts beneath the impact.

John collapses across Razor's chest.

The referee slides into position.

ONE!

TWO!!

THREE!!!

DING! DING! DING!

Winner and STILL Wielder of the Blade Championship Blade: John Blade!

JC: HE DID IT!! JOHN BLADE RETAINS THE BLADE CHAMPIONSHIP BLADE AFTER AN ABSOLUTE CLASSIC!

JR: Razor threw everything he had at him. Technique. Heart. Power. Pride. But tonight... John Blade proved why he's the champion!

John remains on his knees long after the bell, exhausted beyond words. The referee hands the Blade Championship Blade into John’s hands!

John raises it high and the crowd goes wild!

---

The lights in the arena cut out entirely, and the fans begin to buzz. The darkness holds for a moment before…


With each of the hits of the word “Fame” a spotlight flashes back and forth between the stage and a random spot in the audience. On the screen, the images alternate between key moments from the career of Sebastian Everett-Bryce, S.E.B. and Empire.

After the final Fame, the lyrics end.


The screen flashes with the words Welcome to the Empire.

As the beat drops - the lights lift, and the XWF Universal Champion - Sebastian Everett-Bryce throws his arms wide. He walks to the ring in jeans, a SEBEmpire shirt, a jacket and the Universal Championship around his waist.

He high fives fans on the way, and even stops to take a couple of selfie’s before he climbs the steps picking up the microphone on the way.

He steps into the ring, takes up his position in the centre of the ring and waits.


The beat drops one more time, and as on the top of the ramp, he flings out his arms, a smirk on his incredibly handsome, yet apparently also annoying face.

He pauses for a second allowing the fans in attendance to show their appreciation - each time he raises the microphone to his lips, the crowd pop louder. They’re trolling him - but in a nice way.

Eventually - they let him speak. And he manages to, despite being clearly emotional.

“If you’d have told me ten years ago, that I’d be stood in front of an XWF crowd in Portland, Oregon while they cheered me just to avoid having to listen to me speak, I’d have probably told you that sounds feasible - except for the part where it was an XWF crowd this size, and they’d be cheering,” said Seb with a smirk. Another small pop. “Because ten years ago, I was wrestling for crowds in London, with the idea of competing with the best wrestlers in the World this side of the Atlantic felt like little more than a pipe dream.”

He shakes his head.

“And yet - here I stand, after facing not one, but two undoubted legends in Scoops McGee and Micheal Graves… Still… Your XWF Universal Champion,” said Seb emphasis on every word.

“First things first - Graves? I thought winning this Championship would arguably be one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to go through, but defending about you - christ. You might not have taken the championship off me, but if I didn’t already know the end was coming for me, I’d say you took a good few months off the end of my career…” he paused to turn to look into the camera, and offered a salute.

“So now we turn our attentions to Relentless - my third since joining XWF in 2023. And out of those three - I’ll have Main Evented two. I’ve had four matches so far, with a record of 3-1-0… And next month? I’ll have my fifth match… And for the first time ever, I’ll be walking into Relentless as the XWF Universal Champion… And whatever happens across the rest of this year, I can tell you one thing is for sure… I don’t plan on walking out of Relentless without this Championship in my hands…”

There’s another pop - and Seb goes to speak again, however, the cheers change to boos as the big screen takes focus - Musk. Zuck. And (potential) soon to be minority share holder in the best football club in the world - Bezos.

“Sebastian Everett-Bryce… We didn’t want to come out there and take up your time. Afterall, there’s only a finite amount of attention to go around, and god knows, you need all of it,” said Musk. Zuck and Bezos chuckle along. “I just wanted to let you know that, we couldn’t decide who was most worthy of facing you at Relentless… So… We figured, why not boost the ratings and the ad buys, by making a match for next week - a Number One Contenders match. The winner of which… Will face you for the XWF Universal Championship at “Space X presents a Meta Production of XWF Relentless only on Amazon Prime”. That’s the title by the way - that’s what will be on ALL the posters…” said Musk.

“You realise that the poster for Relentless has already been created?” said Seb with a half-smile. “And that poster already has everything you need to make all the money you want…”

“And what exactly is that?” asked Musk.

“The last great showing… Of the only Gunslinger that matters around here… Because gentlemen, this September… We are Red… Dead… Relentless!” said Seb. There’s a loud explosion of pyro, and all around the arena, banners unfurled showing the poster…



“You know the best part, Elon?” said Seb with a smirk. “This has been floating around on Twitter…”

“ITS CALLED X!” snapped Musk. But Seb ignored him.

“For the last few days, and you didn’t know a damn thing about it…” said Seb.

“Who authorised this crap!?” snapped Musk.

“All of you did…” said Seb with a smirk. “Look…”

VT begins to roll of Must, Zuckerberg and Bezos all arriving at some awful “rich, white guy” convention. On the way in, they’re all just randomly signing autographs as they go without so much as a second look… Including, but not limited to, a man in a long beard wearing sunglasses. And as they walked away, the man turned to face the camera, peeling away the beard and taking off the sunglasses to reveal… Seb. And an official looking XWF document…

But more importantly… Not just one document… But two.

“What… What was that? The second one? What was that!?” asked Musk looking worried.

“Oh don’t you worry, gents… There’s plenty of time between now and Relentless for you to find out…” said Seb with a smirk. “But for now… I’ll let you get on with deciding who gets to fight for the chance to get beat at Red Dead Relentless… by the Best… In… The Business!”

The crowd chanted along with Seb’s catchphrase as the Trillionaires began to argue amongst themselves before Fame began to play.

Seb dropped out of the ring and began to walk back up the ramp, waving to the fans as they go - and as he made it half way…

Dead Posey - "She Went Bad" kicks in… Seb pauses, mid raise of the XWF Universal Championship and slowly turns as Remi Storm makes her way out to the ring for her match… She ignores the Universal Champion entirely as Twin pink sparkly spotlights hit the entryway.

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.

STILL not acknowledging the Champion.

With a smile, she scampers down towards the ring as the spotlights follow.

She walks past Seb, and flicks her hair in his direction and it catches him in the face - he smirks, nods slowly, before backing up the ramp, pausing long enough to offer a round of applause.

At ringside, Remi 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 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.

And Sebastian Everett-Bryce disappears behind the curtain.

---

The arena lighting dims to black. Pink and silver lightning streak across the screen.


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. With a smile, she scampers down towards the ring as the spotlights follow. 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 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.

…



"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.

…

Remi Storm - vs - Jenny Myst #1 Contender’s Match for the TV Title at Relentless

DING! DING! DING!

Both girls meet in the center of the ring. Jenny extends a hand with her smile wide and her eyes cold.

Remi looks at it, looks at Jenny, looks at the crowd chanting no, and… shakes it!

JR: See, Jack? Good show of sportsmanship here in the early going, just like how you like it!

JC: I don’t think Jenny has totally pure intentions here, though!

Jenny pulls her in immediately by the wrist, transitioning into a keylock and wrenching upward before the crowd's pop has even died!

Remi grunts, drops into a forward roll to release the pressure, kips up cleanly, and answers with a wristlock counter bridge! She arches back, then snapping up with an overhead kick that clips Jenny's forearm!

Jenny retreats a step while quickly being forced to recalibrate. She’s still smiling, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes anymore.

JC: And just like that, Remi Storm says not today.

JR: I’ll give her this, Jack, she can think quick on her feet. That’s too valuable a skill.

They lock up again. Jenny backs Remi into the ropes and fires a forearm smash right after the rope break is called! The referee admonishes her and she holds both hands up, the picture of innocence.

As the referee steps between them, Jenny lunges forward with a neck wrench, grinding Remi down toward the mat. She holds it for a long count before releasing and rolling away, completely unconcerned.

JC: Jenny Myst already finding ways to bend the rules in the opening minutes here!

JR: Puh-lease. You can argue it’s not Kosher all you want, but there’s nothing there that’s actually breaking the rules. It’s just… veteran experience.

Remi shakes out her neck and fires back! A pump kick to the midsection doubles Jenny over… and Remi grabs the ropes for momentum, turning to hit a springboard dropkick that sends Jenny stumbling into the corner!

Remi follows in fast and goes for a monkey flip! But Jenny hooks the top rope and Remi crashes to the canvas below her.

Jenny drops both boots onto the back of Remi's skull! They’re methodical, grinding, the Portland crowd booing louder with each one.

JC: Jenny with those Blissful Curb Stomps trying to give Remi a concussion here in the early going!

JR: Savage tactics, but they work for a reason! Remi’s gotta hope her brain isn’t too scrambled here!

Cover in the early going by Jenny Myst!

OOOOOOOOOOOOOONE!











TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!











KICKOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUT!

Jenny doesn’t even miss a beat as she goes right back on the attack by working the neck with another neck wrench! She tries to grind Remi down while keeping one eye on the referee and one eye on Remi's expression.

She quickly drags Remi over to drape her throat-first across the middle rope, and the referee gets involved with another rope break. Jenny holds it for a moment, but right as the referee shouts ‘four,’ she immediately begins to back up with both hands raised… BUT INSTEAD LUNGES BACK IN TO JAM A KNEE INTO THE BACK OF REMI’S SKULL!

THE CROWD GOES FERAL WITH BOOS AS JENNY SIMPLY BLOWS A KISS BACK TO THEM!

JC: Jenny Myst is dismantling Remi Storm piece by piece, and she is loving every second of it!

JR: That's what three Television title reigns gets you, Jack. You learn how to work smart and efficiently.

Remi staggers her way back to her feet, but Jenny doesn’t let her get her bearings back! She lunges on top of her with a Lou Thesz Press, raining down a volley of forearms!

Jenny grabs Remi by the face to keep her pinned down against the mat, giving the ref and the crowd a confident smile as he has to count!

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONE!











TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!











KICKOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUT!

Remi manages to barely shove Jenny off of her as she once again makes her way back to her feet while shaking out the cobwebs. Jenny quickly hits her with a crucifix! She tries for a pin again!

But Remi immediately kicks out this time as she rolls through! She runs forward as Jenny gets up! HEADSCISSORS TAKEDOWN! And she immediately transitions right into a single arm DDT that plants Jenny down!

Both women scramble upright after a short delay. Remi doesn’t hesitate though as she hits a standing rising knee strike!

CRAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!

Jenny staggers backward, hand flying to her jaw!

JC: This is the first time Remi’s really had the upper hand here!

JR: Can she keep it for long, though?

JC: The crowd’s hoping so at least, just listen to them buzzing!

Remi measures Jenny as she turns, allowing a backflip kick to connect flush!

Jenny drops to a knee, letting Remi bounce off the ropes! Handspring satellite DDT spins Jenny into the canvas crown-first!

The crowd pops as Remi hooks the far leg!

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONE!











TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!











JENNY GRABS THE BOTTOM ROPE!

JC: Close, but not quite! Remi’s offense in the ring though is downright beautiful. That Satellite DDT was something out of a work of art!

JR: Yeah, but she’s gonna need more than that to keep Jenny down. Besides, she’s smart enough to know where the ropes are at all times.

Jenny rolls to the apron to buy a moment and Remi is right there to meet her. But Jenny catches her with a throat jab the referee doesn't see from his angle as Remi staggers!

Jenny doesn’t waste the opportunity as she hooks her arms around Remi… AND THEN SUPLEXES REMI FROM THE APRON TO THE OUTSIDE!

THUD!

JR: Holy-!

JC: Is Remi okay?!

JR: I don’t think Jenny cares too much about that! Did you catch that throat jab that led to that, Jack?

JC: I know the referee sure didn’t, and Jenny knew exactly how to make it so!

Jenny hops down gracefully, smooth as silk, and doesn’t even give Remi the dignity of sitting in her own wounds as she rolls her right back into the ring.

Jenny takes her time now. She pulls Remi into position and immediately launches a brutal volley of stomps to Remi’s skull! Remi shrivels up and tries to protect herself, but Jenny scoffs as she pulls her in for another pin!

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOONE!











TWOOOOOOOOOOOOO!











KICKOOOOOOOOOOOOUT!

Jenny’s brow twitches, but she’s still smiling!

JR: You gotta wonder if Remi’s stubbornness is just going to lead to her getting hurt.

JC: That suplex to the outside was gnarly, Joe. I’m surprised Remi even had the strength to kick out, but you might be onto something.

Jenny hoists Remi up and fires her into the ropes! A tilt-a-whirl headscissors takedown immediately plants Remi! Jenny pounces on her for an inside cradle!

The ref slides into position! But he doesn’t see that Jenny has a hand on Remi’s tights!

OOOOOOOOOOOOONE!











TWOOOOOOOOOOOOO!











REMI SNAKES A LEG FREE TO DRAPE IT ON THE BOTTOM ROPE!

Remi glares at Jenny with as much vitriol as she could muster from the hand on her tights! Jenny isn’t fazed though as she simply waves back!

JC: You said something about Jenny not having broken the rules before, Joe?

JR: Well… the rules only go so far as the ref can enforce them, Jack! Hard to keep Jenny honest if the ref isn’t doing his job!

JC: Give me a break…

Jenny comes inside one more time…

BUT REMI MANAGES TO SURGE TO LIFE! DESPERATION OVERHEAD BELLY-TO-BELLY SENDS JENNY SKIDDING ACROSS THE MAT!

JENNY QUICKLY COMES BACK ONTO HER FEET, BUT REMI IS READY! REMI BOOTS JENNY IN THE GUT TO DOUBLE HER OVER, BEFORE GIVING HER A GORY LIFT!


AND REMI THROWS HER RIGHT BACK DOWN INTO A KNEE LIFT! JENNY GETS PLANTED ONCE AGAIN WITH HER EYES GLASSY!

REMI LOOKS TO THE CROWD WITH A SMILE AND GIVES THEM A LITTLE SHIMMY! THE PORTLAND CROWD LOVES IT AS THEY POP HUGE FOR IT!

Jenny takes the time to crawl her way into the corner, gritting her teeth as she desperately sucks in air. But now it’s Remi who shows some of that killer instinct! She lunges towards the corner with a running clothesline, holds onto Jenny’s arm tight as she makes her way out of there with her, and sinks in a CROSS ARMBAAAAAAAAAAAAAAR!

JENNY SCREAMS AS SHE REACHES TOWARDS THE ROPES! THE CROWD IS SHOUTING AT HER TO TAP! SHE CAN’T QUITE REACH TOWARDS THE END OF THE RING!

JC: Remi Storm might be able to pull off the upset here, against all odds!

JR: Jenny’s gotta find some way out of this, because she’s not reaching the ropes any time soon!

JENNY IS KICKING HER FEET AROUND, TRYING TO CREATE MOMENTUM TO MOVE HERSELF FORWARD! SHE KICKS… KICKS…

SHE KICKS HER OWN BOOT OFF?!

The referee moves to get the boot as Jenny fishes out a pair of brass knuckles from her trunks! She moves up in the armbar to be on top of Remi as she’s stuck on the mat-

CRACK!

REMI IS OUT LIKE A LIGHT AS THE FANS BOO! JENNY HIDES THE KNUCKS RIGHT AS THE REFEREE DELIVERS HER BOOT BACK TO HER!

JR: INGENIOUS strategy from Jenny! She just pulled a rabbit out of a hat because I could have sworn she was about to tap!

JC: She pulled a lot more than a rabbit out, and you know it! Remi had that match won!

JR: She could have… I guess we’ll never know what happened if she didn’t think fast.

Jenny takes a moment to slide her boot back on as she smirks, laying back on top of Remi, posing with crossed legs and her chin in her hand like she’s in some sort of magazine. The referee slides in to count!

OOOOOOOOOOOONE!



















TWOOOOOOOOOOOO!



















KICKOOOOOOOOOUT!

JENNY’S SMILE FINALLY DISAPPEARS AS THE CROWD GOES ON FIRE!

JC: I don’t know how she did it folks, I don’t know how she found the energy, but REMI STORM KICKED OUT! This match is NOT done yet!

Jenny grits her teeth, as she comes back onto her feet, Remi still stirring on the ground as she walks forward…

STANDING DOUBLE KNEE DROP!

Remi’s eyes open as she clutches onto her chest for dear life! Jenny flips forward before flipping back for a moonsault double knee drop!

BUT REMI ROLLS OUT OF THE WAY JUST IN TIME!

JC: Jenny Myst was looking for Insult to Injury, but Remi Storm had other plans as she barely escaped!

JR: And we both know that if Jenny hit those knees, it would have been curtains for Remi! If not then, then right when she hits that Pink Perfection DDT!

The two girls stare at each other as they crawl their way back to their feet. Jenny immediately lunges in for a chokehold STO!

Remi ducks though! Rebounds off the ropes… pump kick right to Jenny’s ribs!

It leaves her staggered enough to leave her in position… Utsuri Goshi!

BUT SHE TWISTS INTO A SWINGING SIDE SLAM!

JC: STORMCHASER! Remi Storm just got all of it!

JR: Is that gonna be the match right here?

COVER BY REMI!



OOOOOOOOOOOONE!



















TWOOOOOOOOOOOO!



















KICKOOOOOOOOOUT!

JR: Now it’s Jenny who’s showing some of that hard drive here!

JC: Remi’s barely even thinking about it though!

Remi moves towards the turnbuckle to crawl her way up to the top! She’s running on near-fumes as she moves though! It gives Jenny just enough time to get up to her feet and flick the top rope to make Remi crotch herself!

JR: Desperation tactics working to perfection!

JC: Still so close and yet so far!

Jenny quickly lunges right towards Remi and nails her with a HUGE dropkick that sends her right out of the ring! Jenny looks towards the referee and tells him to get counting!

JC: Remi just got wiped out from that dropkick, that’s her second hard fall to the outside!

JR: And now Jenny can be smart with taking the countout win! No shot Remi manages to make her way back inside at time!

ONE!


TWO!


THREE!

Remi starts stirring, and the camera notices she’s bleeding right above her eyebrow!

FOUR!


FIVE!


SIX!

Remi tries to get her bearings back as she staggers her way towards the ring!

SEVEN!

She’s touching the apron!

EIGHT!

JENNY TRIES TO CUT REMI OFF WITH A BASEBALL SLIDE!

BUT REMI SIDESTEPS IT AS SHE HITS JENNY WITH A HARD FOREARM TO KEEP HER DOWN ON THE APRON!

NIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINE…

REMI BARELY SLIDES IN TO BEAT THE COUNT!

JR: STILL! She’s still going! I’m genuinely impressed, Jack!

JC: How could you not be with how much punishment and cheating alike that she’s had to deal with in this match!

Remi staggers forward, but Jenny manages to get back up on her feet behind her! She pushes Remi from behind into one of the turnbuckles and she hits it chest-first!

She staggers back right into the center of the ring, where Jenny’s waiting for her! She hooks her in…

PINK PERFECTION…

REMI SHOVES HER AWAY THOUGH!

JENNY RUNS WITH THE MOMENTUM OFF THE ROPES! REBOUNDS! CLOTHESLINE!

DUCKED BY REMI! CATCHES JENNY’S ARM THOUGH BEFORE SHE MOVES! REMI RUNS RIGHT TOWARDS THE ROPES!

ROPE FLIP ARM DRAAAAAAAAAG!

BOTH WOMEN ARE DOWN AS THE MODA CENTER IS DEAFENING!

Jenny manages to barely get herself up first, but only by a hair…

The referee checks on Jenny as she sees Remi getting up. Jenny shoves the ref aside, and reaches into her trunks one more time…

But Remi sees Jenny’s knuckles!

AND HEADBUTTS HER CLEAN BETWEEN THE EYES!

JENNY STAGGERS BACK AS THE BRASS KNUCKS FALL! THE REF QUICKLY KICKS IT OUT OF THE RING WITHOUT FULLY SEEING WHAT THEY ARE!

REMI DOESN’T WASTE ANY TIME AS SHE PLANTS JENNY WITH A BUTTERFLY BACKBREAKER! SHE SCRAMBLES TOWARDS THE ROPES FASTER THAN IT EVEN SEEMS POSSIBLE GIVEN THE BLOOD SHE’S SHEDDING!

SHE LOOKS OUT AT PORTLAND AS PORTLAND ROLLS BACK AT HER!

AND SHE LEAPS!

INVERTED!

PHOENIX!

SPLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASH!

JC: TWISTED TEMPEST! REMI STORM HIT IT!

JR: DON’T WASTE TIME! COVER! COVER!

REMI HOOKS THE LEG, FACE PRESSED INTO THE CANVAS, TOO EXHAUSTED TO WATCH AS THE COUNT COMES!

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONE!



















TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!



















THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

Winner and NEW #1 Contender for the Television Championship: REMI STORM!

JC: REMI STORM! REMI STORM WINS! She is going to RELENTLESS to challenge for the XWF Television Championship! The Twisted Tempest connects and REMI STORM IS YOUR NUMBER ONE CONTENDER!

JR: I… she… yeah. Okay. I'll give her that one. I'll give her that one.

Remi peels herself off Jenny and sits in the center of the ring, chest heaving, blood still running from her brow. The Portland crowd is on their feet, a full-throated roar filling the Moda Center. Remi just sits there and lets it wash over her, a small smile on her face.

Jenny Myst rolls under the ropes and to the floor without a word, jaw tight, staring at nothing in particular on the way up the ramp as Warfare rolls on to commercial.

---

The arena descends into a kaleidoscope of strobe lights of various colors, inducing feelings of disorientation and illness in everyone present as the unsettling beat of “SICKO” by Health and Godflesh starts to play. The main screens come alive with a montage of eerie imagery of death, graphic pornography, blood, surgical scenes, and occult imagery (see the video for SICKO for an idea of what you’re seeing), interspersed with the words “DO AS THOU WILT”, “SODOMIZE THE INNOCENT”,  “DO CRIMES” and “BE EVIL”  throughout the imagery almost like subliminal messaging.

Samael Dyson hits the stage, flanked by the Ubermensch and a score of his sack wearing Insignificants. He's wearing a wrestling singlet with images of various sex acts airbrushed onto it. He orders the Insignificants to lay down in front of him and he walks on them like a human bridge as he makes his way to the ring. He slides under the bottom rope as the Ubermensch stands at ringside. Sam then vigorously humps the canvas, screeching like a lunatic at the camera before getting to his feet and pacing the mat, muttering to himself and yelling at the fans in the front row.

JC: Well, there’s our Television Champion folks.

JR: Why you gotta say it like that?

JC: You need to ask? At any rate, feelings about Samael Dyson aside this match could be one for the history books. Sam is going head to head with the extremely impressive…..

JR: …..and spooky….

JC: ….newcomer Judd Hollow. Does Sam have what it takes to fend off such a high stakes challenge in his first defense?

The arena surrenders to darkness…

A suffocating hush rolls over the crowd as the lights drain away one section at a time, until what remains is a low glow bathing the entrance stage in tones of ash-gray as that of ash itself falls upon the arena. The titantron flickers once… twice… then stabilizes into a grainy, distorted image of static and slow-moving shadows.

The opening strings of The Brothers Bright – “Blood On My Name” creep through the PA system…

A rhythm begins to form. The rhythm is methodical, deliberate, like footsteps approaching…

The fog begins to raise from the floor, swallowing the ramp in seconds until nothing below the knees is visible. The stage becomes an altar of mist. It sets the tone as Father Malachi Graves steps out from behind the curtain in his typical reverend attire.

Rosary beads dangle from his fingers, swinging with each slow, deliberate step. He doesn’t look around. He doesn’t acknowledge the crowd. His gaze is fixed forward focused on the mission at hand.

He pauses at the top of the ramp, before giving a whisper upon the beads…

A dragging sound cuts through the music…

“There’s a reckonin’ a comin’.
And it burns beneath the grave…
With lead inside my belly,
Cause my soul has lost its way…”

Chains scraping metal…

Something heavy being pulled aggressively through the fog...

Judd Hollow steps into view, bare chest carved in inked sleeves that wrap his arms like scriptures of violence. Slightly torn camo pants hang loose, worn like they’ve survived too many nights that should’ve ended him. Heavy chains are draped across his shoulders, trailing down his back and dragging behind him as he walks. A bandana rests upon his head. From beneath it, bleached, uneven dreadlocks spill out—matted, worn, and almost lifeless in color…

”Oh, Lazarus, how did your debts get paid?
Oh, Lazarus, were you so afraid?”

Across his forehead he bares an inverted cross painted in thick black strokes. Smudged at the edges. His eyes are framed in dark paint, stretching beneath them like hollow sockets—giving him the look of something that hasn’t blinked in a long time.

He doesn’t look at the crowd. He looks through them…

Malachi steps slightly ahead, still clutching the rosary. He begins walking again, and Judd follows… two figures moving in sync without needing to acknowledge each other.

The chains drag louder now…

CLINK… scrape… CLINK… scrape…

The music swells, but neither of them reacts…

“When the fires, when the fires have surrounded you
With the hounds of hell comin' after you…
I've got blood…
And I've got blood on my name!”

Halfway down the ramp, Judd stops. The fog curls around his legs almost attempting to swallow him. Malachi continues forward a few more steps, then slowly turns his head back just enough to acknowledge him without breaking his composure.

A quiet exchange happens without words. Judd tilts his head slightly. A slow roll and crack of the neck with a look of hatred etched upon his face. After a quick breath, Judd begins to walk again…

But slower…

It’s almost as if every step is being measured and calculated to precision.

At ringside, Malachi circles once, rosary beads sliding through his fingers like he’s counting sins. He reaches the ring steps first and ascends without urgency, never breaking rhythm. It’s at this moment Judd steps to the ringside area before following Malachi up the steps.

Each step onto the steel stairs produces a heavy clang that echoes longer than it should. Once he reaches the top step Judd pauses again before leaning slightly forward, chains sliding off his shoulders as he drops the iron vines behind him.

Then he steps through the ropes, stomping his foot upon the ring canvas as the fog begins to settle.Malachi watches with a sinister look upon his face, lifting the rosary briefly as if blessing something that should not be blessed.

Inside the ring, Judd walks to the center. The lights begin to flicker frantically before slowing down. Meanwhile through the speakers, the music distorts for half a second, like it’s being choked or even worse-

possessed…

And then silence returns in pieces…

Judd lowers his head slightly. Malachi stands just behind him now, like a shadow. A cold look growing upon his face. The message becomes loud and clear without a single word being spoken…

This is more than an entrance, it’s an arrival…

JR: That felt like a really long entrance. But the dude has a presence I’ll give him that.

JC: Alright folks, we’re officially starting the clock, this one is ON!

XWF TELEVISION CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH Samael Dyson © - vs - Judd Hollow 15 Minute Time Limit

15:00

“The Sin Collector” wastes no time taking it to Samael, forcing him into a lock up and driving him into the corner! Judd then hits him with a series of knee lifts to the gut before hitting a belly to belly release suplex that send the champ tumbling into the center of the ring! Sam cries out in pain and reaches out for the Ubermensch!

JC: Sam looks like he’s already feeling the heat here!

The Ubermensch gets up on the canvas and the ref goes to intervene. Judd picks Sam up again but Sam tags him with a straight punch to the dick! Judd sputters a curse and goes down to one knee. The Ubermensch gets down off the ring apron and Sam hits the ropes to go for a clothesline, but Judd catches him by the throat on the rebound, hefts him up, and chokeslams him!

13:22

Judd covers!

1…..



2….NO! Sam kicks out!

JR: Sam had a lot of practice kicking out as the Xtreme champion, I’m sure it’ll help him here.

Judd, undeterred, picks Sam up and lifts him up onto his shoulder, hitting him with a big time running powerslam! Sam again bucks in pain and Judd smirks in reply. Judd goes to pick him up again, but Sam instead takes hold of Judd’s waistband and uses his momentum against him to pull him through the ropes and to the outside. When the ref approaches, Sam grabs onto him for dear life and turns him away from the outside, where just as Judd gets to his feet he’s clocked by a big boot from the Ubermensch!

12:02

Malachi Graves cries foul at the ref, but the ref is still being distracted by Samael! The Ubermensch picks Hollow up and sending him crashing into the ring post! Judd spirals away from it after a wicked hit. The ref tries to turn around but Sam won’t let go!

JC: Wait a minute, from out of the crowd!

JR: It’s that Garisha chick! The mysterious new member of Graves’ fellowship!

Garisha explodes over the crowd control barricade like a woman possessed and just as the Mensch is about to pick Judd up again she spears the holy hell out of him! Even Malachi looks shocked!

Back in the ring, Sam sees this happen and he finally releases the ref and goes to the ring ropes to scream at the Ubermensch to get up, but Garisha mounts him and starts raining down a flurry of brutal punches!

Judd then gets up and rolls under the bottom rope. Sam leaps into action, stomping him before he can get up, but Judd is implacable! He grabs one of Sam’s feet as he rises and parlays that into a big time short arm clothesline!

10:45

JC: Judd has been absolutely dominating this match, and with Samael’s heavy getting taken out by Garisha he’s all alone out there!

Well, not quite alone! The Insignificants spring into action on the outside, jumping on Garisha to try to get her off their towering ally. But Garisha shrugs off their attacks, planting them one after the other with savage punches and kicks!

In the ring, Judd continues to work over Samael, grabbing him by the air and sadistically running his face across the top rope! Sam howls in pain and Judd disdainfully tosses him into the center of the ring! Judd then wraps Sam up in a prone sleeper hold! Sam kicks and squirms but ultimately is not able to get out! The ref starts to check Sam’s arm, raising it once, but it doesn’t fall! Sam continues to squirm, trying to fight out of the hold, until finally he gets his foot near the bottom rope….where an Insignificant takes Sam’s boot and helpfully places it on the rope! The ref spots this and shouts at the Insignificant!

Meanwhile, on the outside, Garisha and the Ubermensch are fighting fist tooth and nail! The Ubermensch clotheslines Garisha over the crowd control barricade and the fight continues into the floor seats!

8:57

Two of the Insignificants that weren’t taken out by Garisha start rooting around under the ring and pull out Sam’s steel gauntlet!

As that happens, Judd hits Samael with a deadlift powerbomb, dragging up straight up from the canvas and back down again! Malachi points out what the Insignificants are doing and calls out to Judd! Judd takes notice and goes to the outside where he proceeds to drop the Insignificants with wicked punches and pick up Sam’s gauntlet! Judd chuckles and tosses the gauntlet into the ring! But the ref shakes his head “no” and picks it up! Judd gets back in the ring and approaches the ref meneacingly, demanding he hand over the gauntlet! Meanwhile Sam rouses behind him and gets to his feet. Seeing Judd distracted, he dropkicks Judd in the back! Judd crashes into the ref, accidentally headbutting him and dropping him!

JR: The ref’s out of commission! This is where Sam flourishes!

JC: But the Ubermensch is still fighting with Garisha on the outside!

Judd recovers quickly and wheels around on Samael. Samael skitters over to the gauntlet and puts it on his hand!

7:01

Judd throws a punch at Samael, but Samael ducks just in time and throws his own punch with the gauntlet, socking Judd in the stomach with that unforgiving steel! Judd’s breath escapes him, but he still reaches out and grabs Sam by his hair, pulling him into another clothesline. Judd then grabs for the gauntlet and tries to peel it off Sam’s hand, but Sam kicks out at him wildly trying to keep it!

JR: Wait, somebody else is coming!

JC: Now what?!

It’s Korvayne! And she seems to be beckoning to reinforcements! From out of the back spills the Rollerwhores Violet and Elektra! The whores skate to the ring as Korvayne takes her leave, taking a moment to soak up some jeers from the fans!

The Rollerwhores scramble into the ring and Judd turns to face the new threat, but this just opens him up to another dirty low blow from Samael! Judd sinks to his knees and the Rollerwhores position themselves on either side of Judd and each one launches a superkick at the side of his head with those unforming metal skates!

With the damage done, Sam goes for the cover, but soon realizes the ref is still down and out in the corner! Sam curses and orders the Rollerwhores to wake up the ref. But that’s when Violet produces a match from her bra and Elektra produces a small bottle of lighter fluid from hers and Sam smiles wickedly!

5:04

JC: This just went from bad to worse for Judd! Sam’s gearing up for the Flaming Thumper Heart Punch!

Indeed, the Rollerwhores start to spatter the gauntlet with the lighter fluid, and with a flick of the match they set it ablaze! Malachi cries out for Judd to come to his senses before it’s too late! And Judd does start to rouse! He gets to his feet, back turned on Samael. He turns around and……FLAMING THUMPER…..

…..WAAAAIIIIT! NOOOOOOO!

JR: OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD!

JUDD CATCHES THE FLAMING GAUNTLET IN HIS HANDS BEFORE SAM CAN LAND THE BLOW!

JC: We’ve never seen anything like this! Judd’s hands must be in so much pain, but its like he doesn’t even seem to care!

Sam looks shocked! Judd then pulls him into a vicious headbutt, nailing Sam right in the teeth! Sam’s lip gets busted open and he goes down! The flaming gauntlet goes skittering out of the ring! The Rollerwhores then set in on Judd, attempting to beat him down!

Back on the outside, Garisha and The Ubermensch are still fighting, only now they’re swinging steel chairs at each other as fans scramble out of the way for safety!

3:43

Judd fights back against the Rollerwhores, smashing Violet in her facemask and cracking it and then sending Elektra flying up and over the top rope! Judd takes a moment to look at his blistered hands before scowling at Samael and standing over him. Judd wipes dome of the blood off Samael’s face and smears it on his own!

JR: This Judd Hollow is an absolute BEAST!

Judd picks Samael up, ignoring the pain inhis hands, and drills him back down to the canvas with a choke bomb! Judd then signals for the THE SIN EATER! Judd gets down to synch in the hold, but realizes the ref is still down! Judd goes to rouse the ref, smacking him in the face until he comes to and then tossing him bodily over towards Samael!

2:22

With the ref in place, Judd then goes to lock in his finishing hold! But he’s interrupted yet again as Elektra grabs his boot and pulls him out of the ring! Enraged, Judd floors Elektra with a boot to the chest!

Meanwhile, Violet grabs the gauntlet and tosses it back into the ring behind the referee’s back! Sam scrambles for the gauntlet and puts his body over it to hide it!

Judd gets back in the ring and Malachi calls out a warning to Judd, informing him that Sam is once again in possession of the now extinguished gauntlet. Violet gets up on the ring apron to distract the ref as Sam takes a wild swing at Judd with the gauntlet, but thanks to Malachi’s warning Judd was prepared. He dodges the swing and counters with a stiff shot followed by a snap DDT!

Violet is still distracting the ref though and Judd sees this, pushes past the ref and shoves Violet off the ring apron and to the floor.

1:13

With that done, Judd again sets his sights back on Samael. But Samael still has the gauntlet! Judd picks Samael up by his hair and Samael lands a shot with the gauntlet! The ref chastizes Sam for using the foreign object and threatens to disqualify him. Sam shakes off the gauntlet, but as he does so he palms something from inside the gauntlet!

JC: Wait, he still has something in his hand!

0:52

Judd recovers from the shot and lunges at Sam, but Sam strikes quick as a viper, seemingly landing a blow to Judd’s neck and then in one swift motion tossing the foreign object he was palming out of the ring!

JC: Jesus, it looks like a syringe!

Judd’s hand clasps to his neck and his eyes widen in surprise. But then, his features twist into anger once he realizes what was done. Judd takes a big swing at Samael, but he seems unsteady on his feet. Sam just backs up and waves goodbye to Judd mockingly! Judd mouths a curse at Samael as he drops to his knees. His eyes flutter. Malachi puts his hands to the side of his head in disbelief at what just transpired. And then Judd pitches forth onto the canvas, unconscious.

0:28

JR: Time’s almost up!

Sam rolls Judd over for the cover as the ref, looking confused but lacking proof of any malfeasance, hits the canvas for the count!

1……





2……..





3!!!!!! Judd doesn’t rouse!

Here is your winner, and STILL Television Champion…..SAMAEL DYSON!

JC: Oh come on! This match was a complete crock of shit!

JR: Whoa, whoa, whoa brosef!

JC: No! This was a travesty! Sam barely landed a finger on Judd this entire match! His goons did all the heavy lifting, combined with whatever the hell was in that syringe! There is little doubt here that if it hadn’t been for all of Sam’s cheating we’d have a new Television Champion tonight!

Back in the ring, the Rollerwhores help Sam to his feet as Malachi checks on Judd.

JR: Regardless of how he did it, the ART Foundation still holds half the gold in the XWF!

JC: But somebody has to do something about Dyson! *Sigh* Thanks for joining us folks, tune in to Warfare again in two weeks! See you soon! Goodnight!

THANKS TO… OUR MATCH WRITERS Judd Hollow Peter Principle Kristoffer Arroyo Liam Desmond The Edgecrusher OUR SEGMENT WRITERS Sebastian Everett-Bryce The ART Foundation Scoops McGee / Elon Musk AND EVERYONE WHO RP’D!