The first person to escape the cage will walk away from Anarchy with the X-treme Championship!
“MAIN EVENT” Edgecrusher came through the curtain dressed head to toe in Jay Fetu’s gear. It stretched and pulled at the seams; he looked more like Pancake batter poured into a rubber glove then a main eventer. Several steps behind him walked Solomon Kline. Edgecrusher stopped at the top of the ramp and threw both arms into the air. A few people in the crowd answered with boos, one guy threw a tomato. Not really sure where he got a tomato, must have brought it from home. Edgecrusher nodded approvingly and turned to Kline.
MEEC: See that? They are so excited to see me they can't even hold onto their tomatoes! That’s called commanding a crowd.
Edgecrusher started down the ramp and Kline followed behind. Halfway down the ramp the Edgecrusher suddenly stopped again.
MEEC: Always stop halfway down the ramp. Gets ya more camera time.
He stared directly into the nearest camera.
MEEC: YEET!
Kline stared at him.
Kline: Yeet?
MEEC: Yeah, yeet.
Kline: That French?
MEEC: For pants.
Edgecrusher points to "his" pants where the word "Yeet" is printed on the side. They continued toward the ring where Liam Roberts was already inside waiting. Edgecrusher climbed onto the apron and stepped between the ropes. Kline took his place on the floor near the corner.
The bell rang.
Roberts moved toward the center of the ring and Edgecrusher immediately held up a hand.
MEEC: STOP!
Roberts stopped and Edgecrusher turned toward Kline.
MEEC: See that? That's not a Main Event move. See what he did there?
Roberts looked toward the referee who seemed just as confused as him.
MEEC: He came straight at me, that's amateur hour. You never go right at a main eventer. You gotta make him come to you.
Roberts shrugged.
Roberts: Fine.
He backed away. The Edgecrusher nodded approvingly before turning his attention back to Liam and charging across the ring.Liam simply stepped aside. Edgecrusher blew past him, hit the ropes, and came charging back. Liam planted his feet and dropped him with a shoulder tackle. Edgecrusher hit the mat and rolled with the impact, continuing all the way to the ropes before slipping underneath them and dropping to the floor directly beside Solomon. The referee immediately began to count.
...ONE!
Edgecrusher held up a single finger.
MEEC: Lesson two.
Kline: What was lesson one?
MEEC: Lesson one was don't interrupt.... where was I?
...TWO!
MEEC: Ah... lesson two.
Edgecrusher gave the ref a thank you nod then pointed towards Roberts.
MEEC: He thinks he's in control now.
Roberts leaned over the ropes.
Roberts: Get back in the ring, idiot.
MEEC: See!
...THREE!
MEEC: He's getting emotional.
Kline: Your standing outside the ring, he can't win a match outside the ring.
MEEC: Exactly! I'm controlling the pace.
...FOUR!
Kline looked at the referee.
Kline: You might want to control it a little faster.
Edgecrusher slid back inside and was immediately grabbed by Roberts. Edgecrusher threw both hands up in the air again.
MEEC: WAIT!
Roberts released him and motioned to the ref.
Roberts: What now?
Edgecrusher turned toward Kline again.
MEEC: Very important Main Event stuff. Collar-and-elbow tie-up.”
Edgecrusher raised his arms and demonstrated.
MEEC: This is where strength and technique meet.
Roberts grabbed him and locked in a side headlock. Edgecrusher yelped and slapped at Roberts' arm. This made him tighten the hold up even more. Edgecrusher grabbed at Roberts' wrist and pulled. Nothing. He planted both hands against Roberts' side and tried shoving him away, but Roberts only leaned his weight into the hold and squeezed tighter. Edgecrusher's face began turning red.
MEEC: Okay! Great headlock.
Edgecrusher shoved Roberts toward the ropes but he held on. The Edgecrusher shoved again but Liam still held on. He backed them toward the ropes, planted both hands against Roberts' back, and finally launched him forward. Roberts came off the ropes and blasted him with a clothesline. Edgecrusher hit the mat and rolled to face Solomon.
MEEC: Okay, he's tired now.
Edgecrusher sat up, clutching his back directly next to the ropes by Solomon.
MEEC: I think you’re ready.
Kline: For what?
MEEC: Practical application.
Edgecrusher reached through the ropes and slapped Kline on the chest.
MEEC: TAG!
The referee stared at him.
Ref: This isn't a tag match.
The Edgecrusher pointed at himself.
MEEC: Main Event rules.
Roberts: That isn't a thing.
MEEC: He's my apprentice.
Ref: No.
MEEC: Manager.
Ref: No.
MEEC: Intern?
Ref: No
MEEC: Freebird rule?
The referee shook his head.
Ref: That doesn't even remotely apply.
MEEC: Educational exhibition?
The referee sighed and Roberts waved Kline forward.
Roberts: Fine. Come on.
Kline looked at Edgecrusher who gave him a reassuring nod.
MEEC: You got this. Just remember everything I taught you.
Kline: You haven't taught me anything.
MEEC: Exactly.
Kline stepped through the ropes and Roberts moved toward him. Kline ducked a clothesline and caught him with a series of forearms. Roberts swung. Kline blocked it and fired back. Roberts stumbled into the ropes. Kline whipped him across the ring. Roberts came back and Kline caught him and drove him into the mat. The crowd reacted positively. Edgecrusher's smile slowly disappeared. Roberts charged but Kline caught him again, this time with a powerslam. Roberts rolled away and pulled himself up in the corner. Edgecrusher climbed onto the apron.
MEEC: Okay...
Kline ignored him as Roberts swung. Kline ducked and fired back with another shot of his own.
MEEC: ...You're good. That's enough...
Edgecrusher leaned over the ropes and smacked Solomon on the shoulder "tagging" himself back in.
MEEC: ...Lesson over.
Edgecrusher put both hands on his shoulders and guided him toward the ropes.
MEEC: You don't wanna peak too early.
Kline stepped through the ropes and Edgecrusher turned back toward Roberts who was waiting. Roberts grabbed him and rolled him up in a small package.
1!
2!!
3!!!
Winner- Liam Roberts
The bell rang and the referee raised Liam Roberts’ hand declaring him the winner.
Dick Lichter stands on an equipment crate so he can look the room in the eye. Mostly. In front of him stand three men.
Mr. Oz fills half the hallway. His head nearly brushes the exposed pipes. Tommy Wish leans against the wall, scrolling his phone. XXXVI stands perfectly still behind his mask.
Lichter checks the hallway both ways. He lowers his voice.
LICHTER: Nobody hears this. Understood? This conversation never happened.
Nobody answers.
LICHTER: Judd Hollow is walking around with the X-treme Championship. Every week he takes it somewhere else. Different show, different crowd, different paycheck. I’m sick of it. That belt belongs on Anarchy. Full time. Every week. My show.
Mr. Oz shifts his weight. The crate creaks under Lichter’s feet.
LICHTER: So here’s how it goes. You three get in there with him. You swarm him. You take turns. One of you walks out with that title and it never leaves this building again.
Tommy Wish yawns. He doesn’t look up from his phone.
LICHTER: Wish. Are you listening to me?
Wish holds up one finger. He keeps scrolling.
Lichter turns to Mr. Oz.
LICHTER: Oz. You’re the biggest man on this roster. You’re telling me you can’t sit on Judd Hollow while XXXVI and Wish make the escape?
Oz stares down at him. His jaw tightens. He says nothing.
Lichter turns to XXXVI.
LICHTER: And you. You’re the phantom in the shadows. I need you to bend some rules. Break a few. Whatever it takes. You do what I tell you and nobody ever asks a question.
XXXVI slowly crosses his arms.
The hallway goes silent. The pipes hum.
Lichter looks from one man to the next. He hops down off the crate. He straightens his tie.
LICHTER: Fine. Think it over. But remember who signs your checks.
He walks off. The three men stay exactly where they are.
The camera lingers on them. Then Mr. Oz’s head turns. Slowly. Directly toward the road cases.
The feed cuts to static.
The lights went dark!
The sound of thunder Ker-ACKS throughout the arena!
Over the PA system, a woman laughs…
A Storm…
Is…
COMING
Suddenly, the lights turned blue! Rain falls from the rafters above as Latoya Hixx walks out at the top of the ramp, flexing her muscles!
TODD: “Folks, if you're just joining us, you're looking at one of the most physically imposing women ever to step inside an XWF ring! Latoya Hixx is an absolute powerhouse! There are very few people in this business who can match her strength!”
BAMA: “And even fewer who can afford to buy the groceries it takes to keep that woman fed, Toddrick! Look at her! She looks like somebody took a tank, gave it a gym membership, and taught it how to throw a punch!”
TODD: “The question has never been whether Latoya has the physical tools. The question is whether she can put them together against a wrestler who knows how to exploit her weaknesses.”
The lights return to their default settings as Hixx walks straight down the aisle and she slaps a few hands of wrestling fans!
Hixx climbs up the steel steps, then enters the ring…
The lights dim and she flexes her muscles one final time!
Latoya hops down from the turnbuckle.
She turns toward the entrance.
Her grin fades.
…
The audience erupts.
TODD: “There's no love lost between these two.”
BAMA: “Love? Todd, these two have the kind of relationship where one of them would happily buy the other a gift basket, provided the basket was full of bricks and delivered through a plate-glass window!”
The sythinzied beat of Shake it Off By Taylor Swift begins to play over the public address system, as the opening lyrics soon begin, as the fans boo and flashes going off, people are waiting for the arrival of the Fitness Queen herself.
I stay out too late
Got nothing in my brain
That's what people say, mm-mm
That's what people say, mm-mm
As a spotlight is on the entrance ramp and the lights dim, first stepping out is none other than the legendary Snarktopus Nessa Wall, who smiles brightly before trash talking the fans as she smiles, before ordering a couple of stage hands to come out they each have a mirror in hand they face the entrance ramp, as soon out from the back steps La Marvillosa herself Marisol Vilaro.
I go on too many dates
But I can't make 'em stay
At least that's what people say, mm-mm
That's what people say, mm-mm
Marisol stops to admire herself in each mirror posing and showing off, what her hard work has given her and mouthing about how she’s the inspiration these out-of-shape people need. After a few moments of posing she brushes right past, giving her manager/mentor a hug before they head off with Nessa leading the way taking the time to give the fans at ringside a hard time for even trying to touch them.
TODD: “And here comes Marisol Vilaró! Former Revolution Champion, founder and CEO of the Vilaró Fitness System, Dean of VilaroU, and the woman behind the increasingly controversial VilaroMaxxing movement!”
BAMA: “Controversial? What's controversial about helping people improve themselves, Todd?”
TODD: “Well, for starters, the fact that Marisol has described a sizable portion of the human population as aesthetically unfortunate.”
BAMA: “And she's offered them a solution! That's called entrepreneurship, Toddrick!”
I keep cruisin'
Can't stop, won't stop movin'
It's like I got this music in my mind
Sayin' it's gonna be alright
Marisol herself takes the time to pose some more showing off her muscle, and trying to sell them on the VilaroFit mission, and how they need it to improve themselves, As the devious duo soon make their way toward the ring side area Nessa soon goes up the ring steps and takes the time to bark orders at the referee, showing him exactly how lower the ropes for herself, and her client, after being lectured by the Ambitchous one, the referee complies doing it exactly as Nessa demanded enters the ring and motions for Marisol to go up the steps, as she climbs up the steps she takes each moment to keep shilling her products, which doesn’t endear her to the fans, as she soon enters the ring under the rope and soon she rudely brushes past the referee as Nessa presents her to the booing fans as she raises her arms high in the air soaking in the boos, and catcalls.
'Cause the players gonna play, play, play, play, play
And the haters gonna hate, hate, hate, hate, hate
Baby, I'm just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake
I shake it off, I shake it off (hoo-hoo-hoo)
Heartbreakers gonna break, break, break, break, break
And the fakers gonna fake, fake, fake, fake, fake
Baby, I'm just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake
I shake it off, I shake it off (hoo-hoo-hoo)
Marisol then does a series of poses once again before turning around and gracing the other side of the area raising her arms high in the air and then doing a similar series of poses showing off her physique and how in shape she is. While Nessa claps her client before they head into their corner, and Nessa is getting Marisol psyched and going over the game plan as they wait for the opponent to enter.
She yawns.
Marisol stops rotating.
She looks at Latoya.
Latoya yawns again, this time making a theatrical show of covering her mouth.
Marisol's expression tightens.
She raises one finger.
Latoya pushes away from the ropes.
Marisol smiles sweetly as she unleashes insults toward Hixx.
Latoya's face reddens.
The referee immediately steps between them.
TODD: “And there it is! Marisol's greatest weapon might not be her technical wrestling. It might be her ability to get inside an opponent's head before the bell even rings!”
BAMA: “Well, she's certainly inside Latoya's head right now. Whether she's found anything resembling furniture in there remains to be seen.”
The official checks both competitors.
Marisol stretches her arms, perfectly composed, then turns to the crowd and blows a kiss.
Latoya practically vibrates with anger.
The referee calls for the bell.
DING! DING!
MARISOL VILARO
- vs -
LATOYA HIXX
Singles!
Latoya charges, barreling forward with both arms extended, determined to grab her opponent and introduce her to the canvas.
Marisol sidesteps.
Latoya rushes past.
Marisol casually pats her on the back as she goes by.
TODD: “And Marisol immediately using that superior footwork! Latoya's got to slow down and think!”
BAMA: “Think? Todd, have you seen the size of those arms? Those things are built for doing, not thinking!”
Latoya skids to a halt, spins around, and charges again.
Marisol ducks beneath her outstretched arm, catches the wrist, and twists.
SPINNING WRIST LOCK!
Latoya's massive frame is pulled off balance. Marisol steps behind her, cranking the joint and forcing the larger woman down to one knee.
The crowd reacts with a surprised murmur.
Latoya looks at her trapped arm.
Then at Marisol.
Then back at her arm.
She looks genuinely baffled.
Marisol gives the wrist another sharp twist.
Latoya winces.
Mari mutters something venomous in Latoya’s ear.
TODD: Marisol continuing to lay on those mind games to Latoya!
BAMA: This might end up backfiring on Mari! To play mind games, Toddrick, ya gotta be dealing with an opponent that has a full deck of cards in the ol’ noodle.
Latoya answers with a furious roar and tries to stand.
Marisol shifts her weight, steps around the arm, and pulls Latoya forward into a headlock takedown.
THUD!
Latoya hits the mat.
Marisol rolls through and immediately transitions into a half Boston crab, grabbing one of Latoya's legs and twisting it backward.
TODD: “Beautiful chain wrestling from Vilaró! She goes from the wrist lock to the takedown, and now she's attacking the leg! This is exactly what she needs to do against someone with Latoya's strength!”
BAMA: “It's brilliant! Why fight a tank head-on when you can take the wheels off?”
Latoya snarls and reaches for the ropes.
They're several feet away.
She plants both hands on the canvas and tries to crawl.
Marisol sits back, wrenching the hold.
Latoya's face contorts.
She suddenly bucks her hips, throwing Marisol forward.
Marisol releases the hold before she can be dumped onto her face, rolling gracefully to her feet.
Latoya scrambles upright, rubbing her leg.
Marisol dusts off her hands.
Latoya's eyes bulge furiously as Mari’s cocky expression.
She swings a haymaker.
Marisol ducks.
The punch cuts through empty air.
Marisol responds with a sharp kick to the stomach, doubles Latoya over, and catches her around the head.
DDT!
Latoya's forehead bounces off the canvas.
Marisol rolls her onto her back and hooks a leg.
ONE!
TWO—
Latoya throws her shoulder up.
Marisol rises immediately, looking more annoyed than concerned.
TODD: “A quick two-count, but Latoya Hixx is still in this! That was a tremendous counter from Vilaró, and she nearly stole the match right there!”
BAMA: “Nearly? She had that woman's head planted in the canvas like a fence post! Another second and we'd be measuring Latoya for a burial plot!”
Marisol kneels beside Latoya and pats her cheek.
She stands and motions for Latoya to get up.
Latoya rolls onto her side, groaning.
Marisol taps her foot impatiently.
Latoya pushes herself to her knees.
Marisol reaches down to pull her up.
Latoya suddenly grabs her by the throat and shoulder, hauling herself upright with Marisol trapped in her grasp.
TODD: Miscalculation by Mari!
Marisol's eyes widen.
Latoya swings her around and launches her across the ring with a FALLAWAY SLAM!
BOOM!
The canvas shakes beneath them.
TODD: “OH MY GOODNESS! Latoya just threw Marisol Vilaró halfway across the ring!”
BAMA: “And that's why you don't grab the bear, Todd! Especially when the bear has been getting progressively angrier for the last five minutes!”
Latoya rolls to her feet, flexing her arms.
She looks down at Marisol.
Then she looks out at the audience and pounds her chest.
BAMA: “Yeah! And Marisol's on the wrong side of it!”
The referee begins his count.
Marisol circles the ring, pointing at Latoya through the ropes, continuing to badmouth her from outside the ring.
Latoya steps through the ropes to follow.
The referee orders her back inside.
Marisol takes the opportunity to slide beneath the bottom rope behind Latoya.
As Latoya turns around—
ENZUGURI!
Marisol's boot catches her against the side of the head.
Latoya stumbles forward, grabbing the ropes to stay upright.
Marisol springs to her feet and charges into the corner.
VILARÓ EXPERIENCE!
The handspring corner elbow crashes into Latoya's jaw.
Latoya slumps against the turnbuckles.
Marisol grabs her by the arm and whips her across the ring.
Latoya hits the opposite corner hard.
Marisol follows, planting a boot against Latoya's throat and choking her against the turnbuckles.
The referee immediately starts counting.
“ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR!”
Marisol releases at four and raises both hands innocently.
The referee warns her.
Marisol rolls her eyes.
She turns back toward Latoya.
Latoya suddenly surges out of the corner.
Marisol tries to duck away, but Latoya catches her around the waist and hoists her overhead.
DELAYED VERTICAL SUPLEX!
Latoya holds Marisol suspended for several agonizing seconds, displaying her incredible strength before finally bringing her crashing down.
THUD!
Latoya drops to one knee, breathing heavily.
Marisol lies on the mat, stunned.
The crowd erupts.
TODD: “INCREDIBLE STRENGTH! Latoya held her up there like she was lifting a sack of laundry!”
BAMA: “A sack of laundry? Todd, that was a fully grown woman! Latoya just performed an entire workout using Marisol as the equipment!”
Latoya crawls over and drapes herself across Marisol's chest.
ONE!
TWO!
THR—
Marisol kicks out!
Latoya sits up and stares at the referee.
“THREE!”
The official holds up two fingers.
“Two!”
Latoya holds up three of her own.
The referee shakes his head.
Latoya looks at her fingers.
Then at the referee's fingers.
Then back at her own.
“THAT WAS THREE!”
BAMA: I think no one ever taught Latoya 1, 2, 3.
Marisol rolls onto her side, laughing.
Latoya turns toward her.
Marisol's laughter stops.
The look on Latoya's face suggests that she has just discovered a brand-new reason to commit violence.
Marisol quickly scoots away.
TODD: “Latoya's getting frustrated again, and Marisol is doing everything she can to keep that frustration boiling!”
BAMA: “Why wouldn't she? It's the best strategy in the world! If your opponent's a bull, you don't need to beat the bull. You just need to wave something red in front of it!”
Latoya gets to her feet.
Marisol is already standing.
She gestures for Latoya to come forward.
Latoya charges.
Marisol pivots and catches her arm, attempting another spinning wrist lock.
Marisol twists the joint.
Latoya stumbles.
Marisol steps behind her.
But this time, Latoya doesn't swing wildly.
She plants her feet.
Marisol pulls.
Latoya doesn't move.
Marisol pulls harder.
Latoya slowly turns her head.
She rips her arm free with a violent jerk.
Marisol's eyes widen.
Latoya swings a short, brutal forearm into her chest.
Marisol staggers backward.
Another forearm.
Another.
Latoya drives her into the ropes, rebounds, and nearly takes her head off with a SPEAR!
The impact sends both women tumbling across the canvas.
TODD: “SPEAR! SPEAR! LATOYA HIXX HAS JUST CUT MARISOL VILARÓ IN HALF!”
BAMA: “I THINK I SAW MARISOL'S SOUL LEAVE HER BODY, TODDY BABY!”
Latoya rolls over, throwing an arm across Marisol.
ONE!
TWO!
THR—
Marisol kicks out again!
Latoya sits up, furious.
She slaps the mat.
Once.
Twice.
Then she grabs Marisol by the shoulders and shakes her.
“STAY DOWN!”
Marisol's eyes flutter.
Latoya pulls her upright and whips her toward the ropes.
Marisol rebounds.
Latoya swings for a clothesline.
Marisol ducks.
Latoya turns—
BICYCLE KICK!
The impact catches Marisol flush across the jaw.
She drops like a stone.
The arena explodes.
Latoya stands over her, chest heaving, a triumphant grin spreading across her face.
She points down at Marisol.
TODD: “BICYCLE KICK! That's one of Latoya's biggest weapons! Marisol is in serious trouble now!”
BAMA: “Todd, I'm beginning to think that all those muscles might actually be attached to something dangerous!”[/blur]
Latoya drops beside Marisol and hooks both legs.
ONE!
TWO!
THR—
MARISOL KICKS OUT!
The crowd groans.
Latoya stares at the referee in disbelief.
She holds up three fingers.
The referee holds up two.
Latoya looks down at Marisol.
“WHY WON'T YOU STAY DOWN?!”
Latoya snarls.
Marisol rolls onto her stomach and begins crawling toward the ropes.
Latoya grabs her ankle.
“No! NO RUNNING!”
She drags Marisol back to the center of the ring.
Marisol kicks frantically, trying to escape, but Latoya's grip is immovable.
Latoya hauls her upright.
Marisol swings a desperate forearm.
Latoya absorbs it.
Another forearm.
Latoya barely flinches.
A third.
Latoya grabs Marisol by the wrist and yanks her forward.
BEAR HUG!
Marisol's eyes bulge.
Latoya squeezes.
Hard.
The air bursts from Marisol's lungs.
Her arms are trapped against Latoya's sides, her feet barely touching the canvas as the bigger woman lifts her off the ground.
BAMA: “OH, THIS IS BAD! THIS IS VERY, VERY BAD! YOU CAN'T TECHNICAL-WRESTLE YOUR WAY OUT OF BEING SQUEEZED INTO A FITNESS SMOOTHIE!”
Latoya squeezes harder.
Marisol's face begins to redden.
Her boots kick helplessly above the mat.
Latoya grins.
She gives Marisol another tremendous squeeze.
Marisol gasps.
Latoya turns toward the crowd, roaring as she tightens her grip.
Another squeeze.
Marisol's face contorts.
Latoya's arms flex like steel cables around her waist.
The crowd rises to its feet.
Marisol's hands begin to slap against Latoya's shoulders.
Her expression has changed completely. The smirk is gone. The condescending smile has vanished.
For the first time in this match, Marisol Vilaró looks genuinely frightened.
TODD: “I DON'T BELIEVE IT! Latoya Hixx has caught Marisol completely by surprise! She's not throwing a wild punch! She's not trying to overpower her from the front! She's got the bear hug locked in, and Marisol has nowhere to go!”
BAMA: “TODD, IF HIXX KEEPS SQUEEZING LIKE THAT, MARISOL'S GOING TO BE THE FIRST PERSON IN HISTORY TO LOSE A MATCH AND TWO DRESS SIZES AT THE SAME TIME!”
Latoya keeps squeezing.
Marisol's knees begin to buckle.
She tries to plant her feet.
Latoya lifts her higher.
The referee leans in, checking whether Marisol can continue.
Marisol shakes her head violently.
Latoya laughs.
Marisol's eyes dart from side to side.
She tries to pry Latoya's arms apart.
Nothing.
She twists her hips.
Nothing.
She throws a knee upward.
It barely grazes Latoya's thigh.
Latoya squeezes again.
Marisol gasps.
The referee asks whether she wants to submit.
Marisol shakes her head.
Latoya roars, tightening her grip with everything she has left.
Marisol's eyes narrow.
Then, suddenly, she stops struggling.
Her expression changes.
The panic disappears.
In its place comes something far uglier.
A cold, furious determination.
TODD: “Wait a minute. Marisol's stopped fighting the hold. I don't know if that's a good sign or a very bad one!”
BAMA: “Todd, when somebody's squeezing the life out of you, there are only so many options left! You can tap, you can pass out, or—”
Marisol leans forward.
And BITES Latoya directly on the nose!
“AAAAAAAGH!”
Latoya screams.
Her eyes fly open.
Her grip loosens instinctively as she jerks her head backward, one hand flying toward her face.
Marisol bites down for one more vicious instant before releasing.
Latoya stumbles backward, clutching her cheek.
TODD: “SHE BIT HER! MARISOL VILARÓ JUST BIT LATOYA HIXX IN THE FACE!”
BAMA: “WE ALREADY HAVE A VAMPIRE ON THE ROSTER, HOW THE HELL IS *THIS* THE MATCH WITH BITING!?!”
The referee immediately starts shouting at Marisol, but the damage is done.
Latoya staggers, completely blindsided.
Mari doesn’t hesitate.
She catches Latoya's arm, slips around behind her, and hooks a leg.
In one fluid motion, she grabs Latoya around the torso, lifts, and arches backward.
VILARÓIZER!
The Fisherman Suplex sends Latoya crashing onto her shoulders.
The impact echoes through the arena.
Marisol bridges high, hooking Latoya's leg and pressing her shoulders firmly against the canvas.
The referee drops.
TODD: “VILARÓIZER! VILARÓIZER OUT OF NOWHERE! MARISOL HAS COUNTERED THE BEAR HUG, AND LATOYA IS DOWN!”
ONE!
Latoya's legs twitch.
TWO!
Marisol tightens the bridge, her face twisted with effort.
THREE!
DING! DING! DING!
Winner: Marisol Vilaro!
The bell rings.
Marisol releases the hold and rolls away, clutching her ribs and sucking in enormous gulps of air.
The referee raises her hand.
The arena erupts in boos.
Marisol sits up, breathing heavily.
She crawls toward the ropes and pulls herself upright.
She adjusts her hair.
Straightens her gear.
Then raises both arms.
TODD: “What a match! Latoya Hixx came within seconds of pulling off one of the biggest upsets of her career! She caught Marisol completely off guard with that bear hug, and for a moment, I thought we were about to see history made!”
BAMA: “History? Todd, we just witnessed the birth of a new VilaroFit program! MandibleFit! Do you realize how many people are limiting their exercise potential by not training their jaws!?!!”
TODD: “Bama, that is NOT a legitimate fitness program!”
BAMA: “Not with that attitude, it isn't!”
The camera finds a door with a brass nameplate mounted three feet off the ground. DICK LICHTER, GENERAL MANAGER.
Inside, Lichter sits behind a full-size mahogany desk on a stack of two phone books and a booster cushion. He signs paperwork with a fountain pen. A cigar smolders in an ashtray shaped like a steel chair.
The door explodes open.
Marisol Vilaro storms in. Six-inch heels. Designer sunglasses pushed up into her hair. A VilaroFit shaker bottle in one hand, a phone in the other, still mid-call.
MARISOL: No, I'll call you back. I have to go ruin a little man's day.
She hangs up. She slams the shaker bottle on the desk. Pink protein sloshes onto Lichter's contracts.
LICHTER: That was a signed release form.
MARISOL: Don’t you know who I am?
LICHTER: You're the woman who just ruined a signed release form.
MARISOL: I am Marisol Vilaro. CEO of VilaroFit. Forty million followers. My face is on the side of buses in eleven countries. And last Sunday, on pay-per-view, in front of the entire world, you made me lose to *Summer Page*.
LICHTER: You lost to Summer Page. I just printed the card.
MARISOL: She was supposed to be a warm-up! A content opportunity! I had a camera crew in the front row. I had a sponsored entrance. I had a VILAROMAXX countdown timer on the big screen. And then the referee handed me the belt.
She leans over the desk. Lichter does not lean back.
MARISOL: He handed *me* the belt. And told me to strap it on *her*. I had to buckle it around her waist. With my hands. My hands are insured, Richard.
LICHTER: Champion's ceremony. Loser presents the title. It was in your contract. Page twelve.
MARISOL: I don't read page twelve. I have people who read page twelve.
LICHTER: Then fire your people.
MARISOL: I'm going to fire *you*. My legal team has already drafted the complaint. Emotional distress. Brand damage. Defamation of my abs. You fix this, today, or I will own this building, this company, and that adorable little chair you're sitting on.
Lichter sets down his pen. He picks up the cigar. He takes a long drag and lets the smoke roll out slow.
LICHTER: You want it made right.
MARISOL: I want it made *right*! You saw what I just did to Latoya Hixx out there! I DESERVE special treatment!
Lichter leans back in his chair, covering his face with a groan before finally snapping back into it and looking at Marisol.
LICHTER: Fine. You get a title opportunity. Your choice of championship. Name it.
Marisol straightens. The anger drains out of her face. The smile that replaces it is pure boardroom.
MARISOL: Now we're talking. I want gold. I want a moment. I want a rebrand.
She taps her chin with a manicured nail.
MARISOL: Tag team titles.
Lichter raises an eyebrow.
LICHTER: Tag titles?
MARISOL: Double the belts. Double the photo ops. Double the merch. VILAROMAXX, baby. That's synergy.
LICHTER: Tag titles take two people, Marisol.
MARISOL: I'm aware of how numbers work. I run a multi-billion dollar company.
LICHTER: So who's your partner?
Marisol pauses. She glances around the office. She looks at the ceiling. She looks at the door.
She flips her sunglasses down over her eyes.
MARISOL: Please. This is Anarchy.
She grabs her shaker bottle and heads for the door. She stops in the frame and looks back over her shoulder.
MARISOL: I'm sure I can find a clown around here.
She's gone. The door swings shut behind her.
We come back from commercial. The arena lights are low. A single spotlight hangs over the ring.
@getouttamyringerson kneels in the center of the canvas. Black gi. Black hood. Eyes closed. Hands resting on his knees. He hasn’t moved in four minutes.
BAMA T: Welcome back to Anarchy, folks! And Todd, I gotta be honest with you. I don’t know what we’re about to see.
TODD: Nobody does, Bama. Mystery rules match. Dick Lichter booked it himself. No opponent announced. No stipulations. Nothing.
BAMA T: And Ringerson’s just sittin’ there like he’s waitin’ on a bus!
TODD: He’s meditating, Bama.
BAMA T: Meditatin’ on what? Man doesn’t even know who he’s fightin’!
The arena goes dark. A cheap synth fanfare blasts through the speakers. The crowd boos.
Dick Lichter marches down the ramp in a three-piece suit, microphone in hand. Two stagehands rush ahead with portable steps. He climbs them. He ducks through the ropes.
Ringerson opens his eyes and rises.
LICHTER: You’ve been running around the XWF like you own the place. Flipping off turnbuckles. Doing your little disappearing act. Well, tonight’s mystery rules match comes with a special message.
He holds up a folded piece of paper.
LICHTER: This is a message from Elon Musk. He may not be an owner anymore, but he still has enough money to bribe me to kick your ass!
He crumples the paper and throws it at Ringerson’s feet.
LICHTER: And I’m sending out my best soldiers to do it. Ladies and gentlemen...you are about to witness….THE REBIRTH OF THE MINI DIVISION!
The titantron explodes with pyro. Six wrestlers charge down the ramp in a single-file sprint.
TODD: Oh my god. It’s an entirely new Minis Division!
BAMA T: There’s Mini Preesh! Mini Charlie Nickles! Mini Micheal Graves! Mini Miss Furry! Is that a Mini XXXVI?!
TODD: Mask and all, Bama. And leading the pack, the number one mini in the world. Mini-Morbid!
Mini-Morbid slides into the ring first. The rest pour in behind him. They fan out and surround Ringerson.
Lichter grins and raises the mic one more time.
LICHTER: And the rules? This is LAST MAN STANDING! Ten count. Anybody who can’t answer it is done. Ring the bell!
DING DING DING.
@GETOUTTAMYRINGERSON
- vs -
THE ENTIRE MINI DIVISION!
LAST MAN STANDING!
Lichter bails out under the bottom rope.
Mini Miss Furry attacks first. She leaps at Ringerson’s back. He ducks low. She sails over him and crashes into Mini Micheal Graves. Both go down in a heap.
BAMA T: Friendly fire!
Mini Preesh charges in with a running shoulder block. Ringerson sidesteps and sweeps the leg. Preesh flips completely over and lands flat on his back.
Mini Charlie Nickles grabs a chair from ringside and slides it in. He winds up. Ringerson spins into a crescent kick. The chair flies out of Mini Nickles’ hands and smacks him in the face on the way down.
TODD: He ate his own chair!
Mini XXXVI stalks forward, slow and silent. He crosses his arms. Ringerson tilts his head. Mini XXXVI uncrosses them and swings a wild haymaker. Ringerson catches the fist, plants a foot on his chest, and backflips off him. Mini XXXVI tumbles through the ropes to the floor.
That leaves Mini-Morbid.
The two circle each other. The crowd rises to its feet.
BAMA T: This right here is the real fight, Todd.
Mini-Morbid strikes first. Chops. Elbows. A spinning backfist that rocks Ringerson into the corner. Mini-Morbid climbs to the top rope and launches into a flying crossbody.
Ringerson vanishes.
A puff of black smoke fills the corner. Mini-Morbid flies straight through it and crashes into the turnbuckle.
TODD: WHERE DID HE GO?!
Ringerson drops from the opposite top rope. Shooting star press. Direct hit on Mini-Morbid!
The referee starts the count. All six minis are scattered around the ring and the floor.
ONE. TWO. THREE
Mini Preesh tries to sit up. Falls back.
FOUR. FIVE. SIX.
Mini-Morbid grabs the bottom rope. He pulls himself to one knee.
SEVEN. EIGHT.
His arm gives out. He collapses face first.
NINE. TEN.
The referee signals for the bell!
Winner- @getouttamyringerson
BAMA T: HE DID IT! RINGERSON IS THE LAST MAN STANDING!
TODD: He just took out the entire Mini Division by himself! He just added even MORE embarrassment to Elon Musk’s plate!
Ringerson stands in the center of the ring. Bodies everywhere. He bows once to the crowd.
The camera cuts to ringside. Lichter stands on the announce table, red in the face. Ringerson looks at him. He raises one hand.
Smoke.
When it clears, the ring is empty except for six unconscious minis and the crumpled piece of paper.
Cut to commercial.
“So what you’re saying is, you’re not going to sell me XWF?”
The camera rolls to footage backstage of somebody sitting inside Big Dick’s office. Dick Lichter’s feet dangle from the chair swaying back and forth with his hands folded and his elbows resting lazily upon the wood top to his office desk. Dick still looks right pissed off from the results of the last match.
The camera pans around to show Deacon St. John sitting on the other side of the table.
Yeah, cause Deacon wants to own all you assholes, am I right?
Get rid of three tyrants— bring in another one!
Lichter sits silent for a moment before answering Deac’s question…
“What I’m saying is: we can’t sell you the XWF…yet!”
Deacon chuckles in disbelief…
“You got to be kidding me, I just fought a whole vampire at Relentless!”
He didn’t understand this was a normal thing at the company… it just wasn’t registering.
“That’s dangerous, like who the fuck in their right mind fights creatures of the night? I almost wanted to contact my lawyers about that and how unsafe it could be, by the way…”
Lichter adjusts his miniature collar with a gulp at the mention of the ‘L’ word.
“Great question- I wouldn’t have done it if I were you! But the past is the past! Let’s focus on the future…on YOUR future! No need to get pesky lawyers involved, they only slow things down.”
Deacon scoffed.
“My future would be bringing this company into a brighter tomorrow.” He continued, waving his hand as if for Lichter’s eyes to see. “Imagine a brand new XWF. One that doesn’t have people like Chucky Quarters running around ass-grabbing the X-Treme Champion every other day for a pinfall. The catering would be top-tier, and most of all MC Edgecrusher would not be taking up space, eating it all. I could make this place more prestigious than it’s ever been!”
Obviously Lichter wasn’t talking about that future, but Deacon St. John was one persistent fuck, and he definitely deserved an A for effort…
Or was it a E for effort…
Who the fuck knows, nor cares…
Lichter extends his tiny little arm, tapping his finger upon the table. He pauses and lets Deacon’s word hang for a moment.
“That wasn’t really what I had in mind. Again, I can’t sell you the company, and when I say that I literally mean— I can’t. There are protocols in place.” Lichter folds his hands together and leans forward. “It doesn’t mean it can’t happen. However. After Relentless, XWF would like to see more of you… I personally would like to see you competing on my show on a normal basis.”
Deacon seemed confused. He wanted to acquire a business. This conversation was definitely taking a sharp left turn.
Deacon hates gaslighting…
“So you mean you want me to sweat for you guys but don’t want to grease my palm in the process?”
Lichner scoffed…
“We would be paying you, what more would you want? It will be well worth it.”
“Usually— I run the show.”
Lichner smiled…
He was about to make Deacon a deal. He knew dangling a bit of incentive in his face would be easier than just offering him money.
“Well, obviously that wouldn’t be you. That would be me!”
“However, I think I can offer you something else besides money. How about an opportunity to potentially win Anarchy Tag Team gold within your first month here?”
Deacon thought about it for a moment…
Who the fuck was going to team with him? Who was even on his level??
Deacon St. John doesn’t have equals, he is in a class of his own. People are numbers to him if they weren’t important enough to remember by name…
Still, Deacon lived for the spotlight.
“Mr. Big Dick, you may have my interest…” Deacon said, “I just have to find a tag team partner. Which that shouldn’t be so difficult. After all, I’m one charming guy.”
Just then, the door to the office opening and by sheer dumb luck, someone walked in. Lichner smirked as a lightbulb went off in that very tiny, yet magnificent brain of his.
“There is no need for you to find a partner, because it just so happens I have found one for you— trust me I’m good at finding partners…”
Obviously that would be a fucking lie… or would it?
That remains to be seen.
“Your partner is Vita Valoween!”
Vita looks confused as the camera pans over to her…
“Did I miss something?”
The footage fades back to the ringside area…
The words "They only want you when you're 17, when you're 21 you're no fun...." appear in dark red letters on the 'tron before cutting into the thrashing death metal sounds of "Severed" by Kittie. The Tron comes alive with graphic shots of plastic surgery interspersed with shots of blood dripping on a bright white surface. Mercy appears at the top of the ramp, walking slowly and with a purpose towards the ring, where she slides under the bottom rope.
Bama T: It’s the long awaited return of Mercy! The spookiest, scariest, and downright most evil wrestler we’ve ever had on the roster!
Todd: She comes around every spooky season to rip throats and purge GOATs: and tonight, she’s in there with one of the greatest!
As the opening riff of "Vampire" by Saint Agnes tore through the arena the crowd jumped to their feet! Vita makes her way down to the ring, slapping hands with her fans along the way. Vita then slides into the ring and postures for the crowd as her music dies down.
Bama T: And here come’s Anarchy’s ORIGINAL Vampire, Vita!
Todd: She’s a lot more than just a ‘vampire’, Bama! She’s a hero, she’s a role model, she’s an ico-
Bama T: She’s a damn vamp, Todd! Here and Arroyo both! And tonight, we get to see what happens when a blood-sucking vampire takes on a savage seasonal creature!
MERCY
- vs -
VITA VALENTEEN X-TREME RULEZ!
The bell rings, and Vita Valenteen immediately circles away from Mercy.
Mercy stalks forward, seeking her opponent like a predator trying to gnaw at the limbs of a gazelle.
Mercy lunges.
Vita darts aside, catches Mercy's wrist, and tries to twist into an arm wringer. Mercy barely reacts. She simply yanks Vita toward her and drives a headbutt into her forehead!
Vita staggers backward, blinking, and Mercy barrels forward with a running STO that plants the vampire flat on her back.
TODD: "And we're underway! Vita Valenteen wanted to prove tonight that Mercy's obsession with inflicting pain would be her undoing, but Mercy has wasted absolutely no time making this personal!"
BAMA: "Personal? Todd, she just hit her in the head! That's called wrestling! You don't get a participation trophy for circlin' around somebody and makin' a speech about your feelings!"
Mercy drops onto Vita and clamps both hands around her throat.
Vita kicks desperately, gets one knee between them, and shoves Mercy off. She scrambles upright, but Mercy catches her by the hair and drags her toward the corner.
Vita answers with a sharp knife-edge chop!
CRACK!
Another!
CRACK!
The third catches Mercy across the collarbone, and the big woman finally releases her grip. Vita slips behind her, springs onto the middle rope, and launches herself backward with a springboard back elbow that catches Mercy flush across the jaw.
Mercy stumbles.
Vita lands on her feet, takes two quick steps, and hits a basement dropkick to the knee.
Mercy drops to one leg.
Vita grabs the head and drives her down with a running bulldog!
The crowd cheers as Vita rolls through and pops up, raising both fists in triumph.
TODD: “What a sequence there by Vita Valenteen!”
Vita turns back toward her opponent.
Mercy is already standing.
Vita's smile disappears.
Mercy charges. Vita ducks the clothesline, catches the returning arm, and rolls Mercy into a small package!
ONE!
TWO—
Mercy kicks out so violently that Vita is thrown backward.
Vita rolls to her knees. Mercy crawls toward her, and for a split second the two women stare at one another.
Vita points at Mercy.
Mercy answers by launching herself forward and smashing Vita's face into the canvas.
Mercy hauls Vita up and hurls her into the ropes. On the rebound, she scoops Vita off the mat and drives her down with a sidewalk slam.
The ring shudders.
Mercy doesn't cover.
Instead, she crouches over Vita, hooks a finger beneath her chin, and turns her face from side to side, inspecting it like a piece of merchandise she's considering returning.
Vita slaps her hand away.
Mercy's grin widens.
TODD: …I say this trying to maintain some semblance of journalistic neutrality, but… god, I hate when Mercy smiles…
She reaches for Vita's face.
Vita rakes her boot across Mercy's cheek and scrambles away before the larger woman can get hold of her again.
TODD: "And there's the issue! Mercy isn't simply trying to beat Vita Valenteen. She wants to make an example of her!"
BAMA: "Well, if Vita's so worried about her pretty little face, maybe she oughta stop lettin' Mercy get her hands on it!"
Vita rolls out beneath the bottom rope and lands on the floor. She takes a breath, shakes the cobwebs loose, and looks underneath the ring.
Her hand finds a steel chair.
The crowd roars.
Vita pulls it out, folds it open, and slides back into the ring.
Mercy laughs.
Vita points the chair at her.
She snaps the chair shut.
TODD: “Mercy wanted this one to get ugly and it looks like Vita is willing to take it there!”
Vita swings.
Mercy ducks!
The chair whistles over her head, and Mercy immediately drives a shoulder into Vita's midsection. She grabs Vita around the waist and lifts her high, carrying her across the ring before dumping her over the top rope.
Vita crashes onto the apron, catches herself, and desperately clings to the ropes.
Mercy charges.
Vita pulls the top rope down!
Mercy tumbles over it and crashes onto the floor beside her.
The chair clatters away.
Vita lands on her feet, grabs Mercy by the hair, and smashes her face-first into the edge of the apron!
Once!
Twice!
Mercy staggers away, clutching her mouth.
Vita sprints toward her and leaps onto the apron, springing forward with a running knee that catches Mercy in the side of the head.
Both women hit the floor.
TODD: "Vita Valenteen is showing us that she can absolutely match Mercy's brutality when the situation calls for it!"
BAMA: "That's more like it! Quit mindin’ your p’s and q’s, your pleases and thank yous and give that bitch a gah damn BRUISE!"
TODD: “...Which one are you talking to, Bama?”
BAMA: “Both of them! All of them! Somebody hurt somebody bad!”
Vita pulls herself up using the apron and grabs Mercy by the wrist.
She tries to roll Mercy back into the ring.
Mercy plants her boots.
Vita pulls harder.
Mercy suddenly surges forward, driving Vita backward into the steel ring steps!
The impact sends Vita crumpling beside them.
Mercy takes a moment to recover, then looks down at her opponent.
Her gaze drifts toward the steps.
She smiles.
She grabs Vita by the ankles and drags her into position, leaving the vampire's upper body beside the exposed steel edge.
TODD: "Oh, no. No, Mercy, don't you dare!"
Mercy reaches down and tries to lift Vita's head.
Vita's eyes widen.
She kicks Mercy squarely in the chest, forcing her backward, then scrambles away from the steps.
Mercy charges after her.
Vita ducks beneath the lunge, catches Mercy around the waist, and drives her backward into the ring post!
Mercy stumbles.
Vita grabs her again, but Mercy catches her by the throat.
The crowd rises.
Mercy lifts.
TODD: "Mercy looking for a CHOKESLAM!"
…
But Vita desperately twists in midair, slipping out of Mercy's grip. She lands behind her, shoves her into the ring post, and catches her with a spinning neckbreaker on the floor!
Mercy hits hard.
Vita drops to her knees, gasping, and clutches her ribs.
For several seconds, neither woman moves.
Then Vita crawls toward Mercy and drapes an arm across her chest.
ONE!
TWO!
Mercy kicks out!
Vita rolls onto her back and stares at the arena lights.
BAMA: "You thought that was gonna be enough? You gotta do a whole lot more than that to put Mercy away!"
Vita struggles upright and looks toward the ring. Her eyes settle on the steel chair lying just inside the ropes.
She crawls in, retrieves it, and returns to the floor.
Mercy is on one knee when Vita approaches.
The chair rises.
Mercy looks up.
For one fleeting moment, the two women lock eyes.
Vita hesitates.
Mercy takes advantage, driving a fistful of fingers toward Vita's eyes.
Vita recoils with a scream, dropping the chair. Mercy rises and smashes a headbutt into Vita's face, then seizes her around the waist and throws her sideways into the barricade.
Vita bounces off it and falls to the floor.
Mercy retrieves the chair.
She holds it in both hands, studies Vita for a moment, then raises it high.
TODD: "Vita needs to move! She needs to get out of there!"
Vita rolls aside just as Mercy swings.
The chair crashes into the barricade with a metallic explosion.
Vita scrambles up and kicks Mercy in the stomach. She grabs the back of Mercy's head and drives her face-first into the barricade!
Mercy staggers.
Vita takes two steps backward, sprints forward, and leaps onto the barricade, springing off it with a flying forearm that sends both women crashing over the ringside barrier into the timekeeper's area!
The audience erupts.
The referee hurries around the ring, shouting for both women to get back into the contest.
Neither seems to hear him.
Vita gets to her feet first. She stumbles through the scattered equipment, catches Mercy by the arm, and drags her toward the ring.
Mercy suddenly jerks free.
She grabs Vita by the throat and drives her backward onto the timekeeper's table!
The table groans beneath the impact.
Mercy stands over her, breathing heavily.
Vita grimaces and tries to sit up.
Mercy presses her back down.
She grabs Vita by the face.
Vita's expression changes.
The playful, exasperated smile is gone.
In its place is something cold.
She reaches up, seizes Mercy by the wrist, and bites down hard on the hand holding her!
Mercy screams and recoils.
TODD: "VITA! SHE BIT HER!"
BAMA: "HA! THERE IT IS! THE FANGS ARE OUT!"
Vita rolls off the table, breathing hard. She stares at Mercy's hand, then at her own.
For a moment, she looks horrified by what she's done.
Mercy notices.
Even through the pain, she begins to laugh.
Vita's jaw tightens.
Mercy lunges.
Vita catches her with a sudden superkick to the stomach, then hooks her head and drives her down with a swinging neckbreaker onto the padded floor.
Vita immediately grabs Mercy's arm and begins dragging her toward the ring again.
This time, she doesn't hesitate.
She rolls Mercy beneath the bottom rope, slides in after her, and climbs to the apron.
The crowd begins to rise in anticipation.
Vita steadies herself, takes one look at Mercy struggling to get to her knees, and launches herself forward.
EAT DEFEAT!
The springboard dropkick from the apron catches Mercy squarely in the face!
Mercy crashes onto her back.
Vita rolls through the landing, crawls over, and hooks the leg.
ONE!
TWO!
THR—
Mercy throws her shoulder up!
Vita sits back on her heels, breathing heavily.
TODD: "HOW?! How on earth did Mercy survive that?!"
BAMA: "Because she's tougher than a two-dollar steak, Todd! And because Vita's learnin' the hard way that you don't get to put Mercy away just because you've hit your favorite move!"
Vita looks down at Mercy.
Even flat on her back, even after the impact, Mercy is smiling.
Vita shakes her head.
Mercy mutters something.
Vita leans closer.
Mercy suddenly surges upward, wraps both arms around Vita's waist, and drives her backward into the turnbuckles!
Vita's spine slams into the pads.
Mercy steps back, charges, and drives a running knee into Vita's stomach. She pulls Vita away from the corner, hoists her onto her shoulders, and drops her with a devastating Death Valley Driver!
The ring shakes.
Mercy crawls over Vita, hooks both arms, and presses her weight across the shoulders.
ONE!
TWO!
Vita kicks out!
Mercy stares at the referee.
Then she turns toward Vita.
The laughter stops.
She begins dragging Vita toward the center of the ring, reaching for her arms.
TODD: "Mercy may be looking for Mort Noire! If she gets Vita trapped in that Cattle Mutilation, this could be over!"
Mercy pulls Vita's arms behind her and starts to roll forward.
Vita fights desperately, twisting her hips and kicking her legs. Mercy tries to maintain control, but Vita manages to roll onto her side.
She plants a boot against Mercy's shoulder and shoves.
Mercy tumbles forward.
Vita scrambles free, gets to her feet, and drives a knee into Mercy's jaw.
She grabs Mercy's wrist, twists into a Canadian Sharpshooter setup, and drops her hips.
Mercy screams as Vita wrenches backward.
The crowd roars.
TODD: "THE CANADIAN SHARPSHOOTER! VITA HAS MERCY IN THE SHARPSHOOTER!"
BAMA: “Hot damn! I didn’t think we’d a Canadian Sharpshooter in the states since the tariffs went up!”
Mercy claws at the canvas.
Vita leans back, teeth gritted, pulling as hard as she can.
For the first time in the match, Mercy's face betrays something other than delight.
Pain.
Real pain.
She reaches forward, stretching toward the ropes, but she's too far away.
Vita adjusts her grip and sits deeper into the hold.
Mercy slams her fist against the mat.
Once.
Twice.
Then she stops.
Instead of tapping, Mercy begins dragging herself forward, pulling both women inch by inch toward the ropes.
Vita tries to pull her back.
Mercy reaches the bottom rope and hooks her fingers around it.
TODD: “ROPE BREAK! Mercy made it!”
The referee orders Vita to release the hold, but there is no rope-break protection in X-Treme Rules. Vita releases only when she decides to, and she does so with a final wrench that leaves Mercy clutching her lower back.
Vita gets up, limping.
Mercy slowly rolls onto her stomach.
Then she starts laughing again.
Mercy pushes herself upright.
Vita backs away, trying to create distance, but Mercy reaches beneath the ring skirt and pulls out a length of chain.
The crowd reacts immediately.
Mercy wraps it around her fist, letting the loose end drag across the canvas as she advances.
Vita looks at the chain.
Then at Mercy.
Mercy swings.
Vita ducks, but the chain catches her across the shoulder. She cries out and stumbles into the ropes. Mercy reels the chain back, charging forward with a second swing.
Vita drops flat.
The chain whips over her head.
Vita springs upright and catches Mercy with a running high knee! Mercy staggers backward, and Vita follows with a series of rapid kicks to the ribs before grabbing the chain-wrapped arm.
She twists.
Mercy spins with the momentum.
Vita pulls her forward and drives a knee into her face!
The chain slips free.
Vita snatches it off the canvas and immediately tosses it outside the ring.
TODD: "Vita had the opportunity to use that chain herself, but she's thrown it away!"
BAMA: "She's throwin' away a perfectly good weapon! What is wrong with this girl?!"
Vita points at Mercy.
Mercy charges.
Vita sidesteps and sends Mercy into the corner. Mercy hits the turnbuckles hard, and Vita follows with a running high knee to the chest.
Then another.
Then a third!
Vita grabs Mercy by the head, climbs to the middle rope, and rains down a mounted ten-punch combination.
She stops herself before the first closed fist can land.
Instead, she opens her hand and delivers ten sharp slaps across Mercy's forehead.
The crowd counts along.
"SEVEN! EIGHT! NINE! TEN!"
Vita hops down and turns, pumping her arms to encourage the audience.
Mercy suddenly launches herself out of the corner.
Vita turns just in time to eat a headbutt that sends her sprawling!
TODD: "Vita was celebrating, and Mercy has punished her for it!"
BAMA: "THAT'S WHAT I'VE BEEN SAYIN'! You don't turn your back on a psycho just because you think you've got her figured out! That’s what gets people killed by Jason Voorhees! Don’t let your guard down til the end credits are rollin’, Toddy baby!"
Mercy grabs Vita by the ankle and drags her toward the corner. She steps through the ropes, climbs onto the apron, and pulls Vita toward her.
For a moment, it looks as though she's setting up something near the ropes.
Then Mercy grabs Vita by the hair and tries to pull her face-first into the exposed steel ring post.
Vita catches the post with both hands.
Mercy pulls harder.
Vita's boots slide across the canvas.
Mercy snarls, trying to muscle Vita’s grip off the post…
Vita kicks backward, catching Mercy in the stomach. Mercy doubles over, and Vita twists free, grabbing the top rope as she springs onto the apron.
Mercy swings a desperate elbow.
Vita ducks.
Then she leaps.
SPRINGBOARD DDT!
Vita drives Mercy face-first into the canvas!
The crowd explodes.
Vita rolls through and immediately reaches for Mercy's arms, trying to turn her over into Embrace The Dark.
Mercy resists, kicking her legs and twisting her torso. Vita fights to keep control, but Mercy's strength eventually forces them apart.
They scramble to their feet.
Vita swings a knife-edge chop.
Mercy answers with a headbutt.
Vita staggers.
Mercy charges with a clothesline.
Vita ducks, rebounds off the ropes, and catches Mercy with a rope-bounce arm drag that sends the larger woman tumbling across the ring!
Vita follows with a running bulldog, then immediately hooks the leg.
ONE!
TWO!
Mercy kicks out!
Vita slaps the canvas in frustration.
TODD: At this point, ya gotta ask… what is it gonna take to put EITHER of these competitors down?
Mercy rolls onto her stomach, dragging herself toward the ropes.
Vita rises and looks around the ring.
The chair is still nearby.
She retrieves it, turns, and sees Mercy pulling herself upright.
Vita holds the chair at her side.
Mercy stares at it.
She nods, offering herself to be struck down!
Vita says nothing.
Mercy spreads her arms.
TODD: “Mercy was talking about how she was doing this to make Vita become the monster she truly is!”
BAMA: “If I’ve done my research correctly here, I believe if Vita strikes Mercy down, Mercy will become more powerful than Vita can possibly imagine.”
Vita's grip tightens.
For a moment, the only sound in the arena is the crowd, waiting to see what she'll do.
Then Vita throws the chair down.
Mercy lunges.
Vita sidesteps, catches her around the waist, and rolls her into a sunset flip!
ONE!
TWO!
Mercy kicks out and immediately grabs Vita by the throat!
She hauls the smaller woman upright and lifts her high.
CHOKESLAM!
Vita crashes onto her back.
Mercy stands over her, breathing hard. She looks down at the chair Vita discarded.
Mercy picks up the chair.
Vita rolls onto her side, clutching her back, and tries to crawl toward the ropes.
Mercy follows.
She raises the chair.
Vita turns—
CRACK!
The chair smashes across Vita's back!
Vita screams and collapses.
TODD: "GOOD LORD! Mercy has just folded Vita in half with that chair!"
BAMA: "And there's your answer, Todd! Vita can throw away every weapon in the building, but Mercy ain't gonna do the same!"
Mercy raises the chair again.
Vita rolls away, barely avoiding a second shot. The chair crashes into the canvas, and Vita scrambles toward the corner.
Mercy throws the chair aside and charges.
Vita gets one foot onto the middle rope, springs upward, and catches Mercy with a flying double-foot stomp to the chest!
Mercy crashes backward.
Vita lands awkwardly, stumbling as pain shoots through her back.
Both women are down.
The referee checks on them, but neither is ready to stay there.
Mercy gets to her knees first.
Vita uses the ropes to pull herself upright.
They stare across the ring.
Mercy beckons Vita forward.
Vita obliges.
She charges with a basement dropkick, catching Mercy in the knee. Mercy drops, and Vita immediately follows with a springboard back elbow to the side of the head.
Mercy crumples.
Vita crawls over her.
ONE!
TWO!
THR—
Mercy kicks out!
Vita looks toward the ceiling, looking frustrated…
When suddenly, Mercy sits up! Mercy grabs a handful of Vita's hair and pulling her close.
She bites Vita's shoulder.
TODD: “That’s one bite each!”
Vita screams and shoves Mercy away, clutching the injured spot.
Mercy crawls toward her, licking her lips behind the scarred mouth.
Vita backs away, eyes wide with fury.
Vita charges.
Mercy braces herself.
Vita drives a knee into her stomach, then catches her with a facebuster that plants her on the canvas. Vita doesn't stop. She grabs Mercy's wrist, twists her around, and locks in THE EMBRACE!
The Rings of Saturn is cinched in tight.
Mercy's arms are trapped. Vita leans back, wrenching the shoulders and neck.
Mercy screams.
Vita grits her teeth and pulls harder.
Mercy struggles to turn, but Vita adjusts her weight and keeps the pressure on.
The referee checks for a submission.
Mercy refuses to tap.
Instead, she begins rocking her body from side to side, gradually shifting her weight until she can plant a boot against the canvas.
She pushes.
Vita loses her balance.
Mercy twists free, rolling forward and dragging Vita along with her. Both women scramble upright, and Mercy immediately catches Vita around the waist.
RUNNING STO!
Vita's face hits the mat.
Mercy crawls over her, breathing like a wounded animal.
ONE!
TWO!
Vita gets her shoulder up!
Mercy sits back and stares at the referee.
Then she looks down at Vita.
Her breathing becomes a wheezing laugh.
Vita rolls onto her side.
Mercy tilts her head.
She grabs Vita and pulls her upright.
Mercy drives a knee into Vita's stomach, then hoists her onto her shoulders for another Death Valley Driver.
Vita struggles, pounding Mercy's back with open-handed blows. Mercy tries to stabilize her grip, but Vita slips down behind her and shoves her toward the ropes.
Mercy rebounds.
Vita leaps!
EAT DEFEAT!
The springboard dropkick catches Mercy flush!
But Vita's injured back gives way as she lands. She collapses onto her knees, unable to capitalize immediately.
Vita scrambles backward, but Mercy grabs her by the throat and hauls her up.
She lifts Vita into the air.
CHOKESLAM!
The ring shakes as Vita crashes down.
Mercy drops to her knees beside her, but instead of covering, she reaches for Vita's face.
Vita struggles weakly, trying to push her away.
Mercy catches her by the jaw and forces her head to one side.
Vita shakes her head.
Mercy raises her other hand, fingers spread, reaching toward Vita's eyes.
Vita suddenly spits in her face.
Mercy freezes.
Vita draws in a ragged breath.
Mercy roars and lunges.
Vita rolls aside.
Mercy crashes shoulder-first into the turnbuckles.
Vita scrambles to her feet, staggers toward the corner, and climbs to the top rope.
The crowd rises.
Mercy turns around.
Vita launches herself.
TOP-ROPE DOUBLE-FOOT STOMP!
Both boots crash into Mercy's chest, driving her flat onto the canvas!
Vita tumbles forward, clutching her legs as she rolls away.
For several seconds, the entire arena is on its feet.
Todd: "VITA VALENTEEN JUST DROPPED FROM THE TOP ROPE! SHE MAY HAVE BROKEN MERCY IN HALF!"
Bama: "AND SHE MAY HAVE BROKEN HERSELF DOIN' IT! LOOK AT HER BACK! LOOK AT HER LEGS! SOMEBODY'S GOTTA WIN THIS THING!"
Vita crawls toward Mercy.
She reaches her.
She drapes an arm across the chest.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE—
NO!
Mercy kicks out at the last possible instant!
Vita rolls away, her face a mixture of disbelief and exhaustion.
Mercy lies on her back, staring at the lights.
Neither woman moves.
Both women rise slowly, reaching their feet at the same time…
Vita drives an elbow into Mercy's jaw.
Mercy answers with a headbutt.
Vita staggers.
Mercy staggers.
Both women remain standing through sheer stubbornness.
Vita throws a knife-edge chop.
Mercy answers with another headbutt.
Vita swings again.
Mercy catches her around the throat.
Vita grabs Mercy's wrist.
They struggle, each trying to force the other backward.
Then Vita suddenly pulls Mercy forward and drives a knee into her stomach.
Mercy doubles over.
Vita hooks her head.
Mercy grabs Vita around the waist.
Both women recognize the danger at the same time.
Vita tries to twist free.
Mercy tries to lift.
They explode into motion together.
Mercy powers forward, seeking another sickening HEADBUTT.
…But Vita springs upward, going to meet Mercy head on!
And then—
CRACK!
…
Both women crash to the canvas.
Vita lands on her back, arms splayed, staring blankly at the lights.
Mercy lands beside her, twisted onto her side, one arm draped across her chest.
For a moment, there is silence.
Then the crowd erupts.
Todd: "OH MY GOD! THEY HIT EACH OTHER AT THE SAME TIME! BOTH WOMEN ARE DOWN! BOTH WOMEN ARE OUT!"
The referee drops to his knees between them, checking first Vita, then Mercy.
Neither responds.
He looks toward the timekeeper.
The count begins.
ONE!
Vita's fingers twitch.
TWO!
Mercy's boot scrapes against the canvas.
THREE!
Vita turns her head, wincing, and tries to pull one knee beneath herself.
FOUR!
Mercy rolls onto her stomach, dragging herself forward with her fingertips.
FIVE!
Vita reaches for the bottom rope.
Her hand falls short.
SIX!
Mercy pushes herself onto one elbow, then collapses again.
SEVEN!
The crowd is standing now, screaming for both women to rise.
Vita grits her teeth and begins crawling.
Mercy does the same.
They are moving in opposite directions, each inching toward the ropes, each fighting through a body that has seemingly reached its limit.
EIGHT!
Vita is the first to find her bearings!
The crowd roars!
TODD: Holy shit! Vita’s still in this! She could do it right here and now!
Mercy remains hunched over on the mat, one hand clutching her neck…
The vampire sees her opening and wastes no time. She turns toward the corner, grabs the top rope, and starts climbing.
TODD: “Vita Valenteen is going upstairs! She’s looking for one more Eat Defeat! If she connects, this could finally be over!”
Vita steadies herself on the top turnbuckle. Mercy turns toward her, bloodied and exhausted, but still wearing that terrible, stretched grin. Vita launches herself into the air, extending her legs as she dives toward Mercy with the springboard-style dropkick that has put away so many opponents.
BAMA: “SHE’S GONNA TAKE HER HEAD OFF!”
But Mercy moves.
At the last possible instant, Mercy throws herself out of the landing zone. Vita's boots cut through empty air, and she crashes to the canvas. The impact sends her rolling, but she manages to keep herself upright, staggering back to her feet as Mercy scrambles toward her.
Vita sees her coming and reaches for a grapple.
TODD: “VITA’S STILL FIGHTING! SHE’S GOT MERCY—SHE’S TRYING TO TAKE HER DOWN!”
Mercy fights the initial hold, driving an elbow into Vita's ribs. Vita grits her teeth and tries to muscle her opponent over, but Mercy twists her body, slips behind, and uses Vita's own forward momentum to drag her down to the mat.
And then Mercy's expression changes.
The grin widens. Her eyes lock onto Vita's face as though she can already see the scars she intends to leave there.
BAMA: “OH, NO. NO, NO, NO! VITA, YOU GOTTA GET OUTTA THERE!”
Mercy snakes her arms into position, forcing Vita onto her stomach. She wrenches Vita's arms backward and arches her body into the Mort Noire.
TODD: “MORT NOIRE! MERCY HAS THE MORT NOIRE LOCKED IN!”
Vita screams.
The hold stretches her shoulders and spine, forcing her chest off the canvas as Mercy leans back with every ounce of strength she has left. Vita tries to push herself up, but Mercy's legs and arms keep her trapped. The vampire claws at the mat, reaching for a rope that might as well be on the other side of the world.
TODD: “VITA IS IN TERRIBLE TROUBLE! SHE'S GOT NOWHERE TO GO! SHE CAN'T GET TO THE ROPES!”
BAMA: “THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKIN' ABOUT! ALL THAT TALK ABOUT HOW MERCY CAN'T CONTROL HERSELF, HOW SHE GETS DISTRACTED BY HURTIN' PEOPLE! LOOK AT HER! SHE KNOWS EXACTLY WHAT SHE'S DOIN' RIGHT NOW!”
Mercy pulls back harder. Vita's face contorts with agony. She tries to twist onto her side, but Mercy adjusts with her, keeping the hold locked in. Every escape attempt only seems to give Mercy another opportunity to tighten her grip.
TODD: “VITA HAS FOUGHT SO HARD, BUT SHE'S RUNNING OUT OF OPTIONS! THE REFEREE IS RIGHT THERE, ASKING HER IF SHE WANTS TO GIVE IT UP!”
The referee drops beside Vita, checking her response.
Vita shakes her head furiously.
Mercy leans closer, her mouth hovering near Vita's ear.
She cranks the hold tighter.
Vita's hand lifts off the mat.
…
Vita reaches out one last time, fingertips scraping the canvas.
Nothing.
…
Her hand comes down.
SHE PASSES OUT!
Winner: Mercy
TODD: “VITA PASSED OUT! MERCY TAKES IT!! HOLY SHIT, WHAT A MATCH!”
The lights dim as the opening beat of She's My Collar fills the arena.
Miss Furry steps out with the Anarchy Championship around her waist.
TODD: "And there she is! STILL the XWF Anarchy Champion!"
BAMA T: "Ha! Barely!"
TODD: "Barely still counts."
BAMA T: "That's also what you tell women, baby!"
TODD: "Bama..."
Miss Furry slips between the ropes.
TODD: "At Relentless, Apathy pushed Miss Furry further than perhaps anyone has during this Championship run."
BAMA T: "Pushed her? Apathy damn near killed that cat, baby!"
TODD: "But as she has proven time and again, Miss Furry finds a way."
Miss Furry is handed a microphone as her music fades.
"Well..."
Furry glances down at the championship around her waist.
"Still got it."
Miss Furry smiles as the crowd cheers.
"Wasn't sure there for a minute... Actually, there were several minutes where I was pretty sure I wasn't gonna have it."
She unfastens the Anarchy Championship and throws it over her shoulder.
"Apathy... you were good."
A few cheers for Apathy.
"No. You were REALLY good."
The cheers grow louder.
TODD: "Well deserved respect from the champion."
BAMA T: "She ain't lyin', Todd. Apathy was about three fingers away from bein' the one standing here with that belt tonight."
Furry pats the championship.
"But despite how good you were, you still came up short because I wasn't done yet."
That gets a bigger reaction.
"Apathy had her hands on the belt. All she had to do was pull it down."
Furry shakes her head.
"I saw her up there and knew if I didn't do something right then, that was it.
Six months.
Done."
She looks down at the championship again.
"So I did what you're supposed to do when you're losing a ladder match...
I panicked."
The crowd laughs.
BAMA T: "Finally! A champion giving useful advice!"
TODD: "I don't think that's the lesson here, Bama."
"Nine Lives Lost from twenty feet up... and somehow neither one of us died... so that was nice."
A laugh from the crowd.
"But seriously, Apathy... You earned another shot whenever you want one."
The crowd cheers.
TODD: "How about that?"
BAMA T: "Careful, girl. You barely got away the first time."
"When my dad came back to XWF, this was the championship he wanted."
She pats the Anarchy Championship faceplate.
"He chose this one because he had something to prove.
He wanted to hold it longer than anyone ever had and prove that when it came to being Micheal Graves...
Nobody did it better than The Micheal Graves."
The crowd reacts to the name.
"Then when he won the Universal Championship, any plans he had for this championship were stripped away."
A few cheers break out.
BAMA T: "Worked out pretty good for him, baby!"
TODD: "Micheal Graves is currently the Universal Champion!"
Furry glances down at the championship.
"So I decided... fine.
I'll finish it."
The crowd gets louder.
"I want the longest Anarchy Championship reign this company has ever seen."
The crowd pops.
"And if I'm gonna do that, and make it mean something, then I need people like Apathy."
Furry points toward the curtain.
"So if you're back there and you think you can take this from me... please try. Seriously, come ruin the whole thing.
Apathy can challenge.
Centurion, Jenny Myst, Kristoffer Arroyo, anybody can challenge!
I'm not hiding.
And while dad didn't get to finish his run, I damn sure plan on finishing mine!"
Furry lowers the microphone as She's My Collar starts up again.
TODD: "That's quite a goal from the Anarchy Champion."
BAMA T: "Longest reign ever, baby? She's only half-way there!"
Furry steps through the ropes and drops to the floor with the Anarchy Championship over her shoulder.
TODD: "After what we saw at Relentless, anybody who wants to stop her is going to have to earn it."
BAMA T: "She just invited the whole damn roster to try!"
Furry starts up the ramp, holding the championship high.
Furry disappears through the curtain.
TODD: "Miss Furry survived Apathy at Relentless and now she's chasing history!"
A second later!
WHAM!
Miss Furry comes FLYING backward through the curtain and crashes hard onto the stage!
The Anarchy Championship tumbles from her shoulder and skids several feet away.
TODD: "WHAT THE HELL!?"
BAMA T: "SOMEBODY JUST THREW HER BACK OUT HERE!"
Furry tries to push herself up as Charlie Nickles stomps through the curtain.
The crowd erupts in boos.
TODD: "CHARLIE NICKLES!"
BAMA T: "Ohhhh, baby. This ain't good!"
Charlie doesn't waste a second.
STOMP!
Right between Furry's shoulder blades.
She collapses to the stage.
STOMP!
STOMP!
Furry rolls toward the edge trying to escape, but Charlie grabs her by the back of her shirt and drags her right back.
TODD: "Come on! She just went through a ladder match at Relentless!"
BAMA T: "Charlie knows that!"
Charlie jerks Furry upright by the hair and CLOBBERS her across the face!
She drops again.
The Anarchy Championship lies only a few feet away.
Charlie glances at it, then looks right past it to Furry.
He grabs her by the wrist and violently whips her into the entrance structure!
TODD: "This isn't about the Anarchy Championship!"
BAMA T: "No shit, Todd!"
Charlie stalks toward her as she crawls toward the curtain.
Charlie steps down on the back of her ankle, stopping her cold.
She cries out.
Charlie crouches beside her.
"You wanted someone to come ruin it?"
Charlie grabs a fistful of her hair and forces her head up.
"Careful what you fuckin' ask for."
He slams her face into the stage.
BOOOOOOOOOOO!
Officials finally begin pouring through the curtain.
Charlie stands over Furry as they rush toward him. He backs away slowly, smiling as his eyes shift toward the camera.
"Hey, Gravy.
You got your win. Now you got my attention!"
He looks down at Furry as officials swarm between them and trainers kneel beside her.
"Hope it was worth it."
The Anarchy Championship remains untouched on the stage as Charlie disappears through the curtain.
TODD: "That son of a bitch! Miss Furry asked for a challenge, not a mugging!"
BAMA T: "...I don't think that message was for her."
The cage descends from the rafters like a steel coffin.
TODD: “Ladies and gentlemen, I hope you appreciate the sheer magnitude of what we're about to witness. Four men, one steel cage, and the XWF X-Treme Championship on the line. There are no disqualifications, no count-outs, and no way to win by pinfall or submission. The only way to win is to escape the cage!”
BAMA: “Four fellas locked in a steel box, and the only fella who gets to go home happy is the one smart enough to get the hell outta Dodge.”
TODD: “Though I suspect escaping the cage may prove rather difficult when the other three competitors are actively attempting to prevent you from doing so.”
BAMA: “That's why you gotta be faster than the other fella, Todd. Or meaner. Or preferably both.”
TODD: “And the man who currently possesses that championship is arguably the most physically imposing competitor in the entire XWF. The Backwoods Butcher. Judd Hollow.”[/blue]
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 [b]The Brothers Bright – “Blood On My Name” creep through the PA system…[/b]
A rhythm begins to form. The rhythm ismethodical, 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…
[b]“There’s a reckonin’ a comin’.[/b]
[b]And it burns beneath the grave…[/b]
[b]With lead inside my belly,[/b]
[b]Cause my soul has lost its way…”[/b]
[b] [/b]
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…
[b]”Oh, Lazarus, how did your debts get paid?[/b]
[b]Oh, Lazarus, were you so afraid?”[/b]
[b] [/b]
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…
[b]CLINK… scrape… CLINK… scrape…[/b]
[b] [/b]
The music swells, but neither of them reacts…
[b]“When the fires, when the fires have surrounded you[/b]
[b]With the hounds of hell comin' after you…[/b]
[b]I've got blood…[/b]
[b]And I've got blood on my name!”[/b]
[b] [/b]
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...
TODD: “There is something deeply unsettling about the way Judd Hollow carries himself. He doesn't seem nervous. He doesn't seem excited. He looks like a man walking toward a chore he intends to finish.”
BAMA: “That's 'cause it IS a chore, Todd! He's gotta go in there and deal with three men who made the poor decision to be born in the same world as him.”
Judd reaches ringside and stops. He slowly tilts his head upward, studying the cage's steel mesh. His fingers tighten around one of the chains before he lets it slide from his shoulder.
He climbs the steps, enters the ring, and walks to the center.
The championship is raised above his head.
Judd doesn't acknowledge it.
He simply stares through the cage wall.
…
[hsevent][/shevent]
Oswald stands amidst an indie metal band, watching the ring, looking at the band. Soon a choir is heard as the band begins to play his theme song. He walks towards the lead guitarist, clapping him gently on the back so as to not mess up her playing. Oswald, walks down the ramp, the bottom of his white cloak dragging along the ground. Once at the ring, he'd leap onto the apron before launching himself to show how strong and agile he was to lift such mass with such ease right over the top rope and de-cloaked himself, placing it in his corner before stretching out his arms in a lower case t and roaring out to the crowd before going and sitting on top of his cloak, awaiting the bell as he mentally plans out the match, as well as how to try and beat his opponent.
TODD: “Mister Oz has cultivated an extraordinary following among the younger generation of wrestlers. He preaches strength, discipline, and self-belief, though some have questioned whether his teachings are intended to uplift his followers or simply bring them under his control.”
BAMA: “Now, Todd, I don't know about all that. I do know that man can pick up another grown man and throw him clear across a ring. If he wants to start a religion, I reckon being able to bench-press the congregation helps.”
Oz marches down the ramp, slapping hands with his followers. He stops at ringside and looks up at Judd.
For the first time, the champion moves.
He raises his chin.
Oz's smile widens.
Neither man looks away.
[blue]TODD: “Oh, my. Look at this. We may have a preview of the physical confrontation everyone's been anticipating.”
BAMA: “Two big ol' bulls sizing each other up. Only difference is, one of them bulls is fixin' to find out the other one ain't much interested in sharing the pasture.”
Oz enters the cage. He removes his entrance gear, flexes his shoulders, and walks straight toward Judd.
The two men stand nearly chest to chest.
Judd is silent.
Oz raises his arms slightly, inviting the champion to test his strength.
Judd doesn't oblige.
Instead, he turns away.
Oz's smile fades.
TODD: “Judd Hollow doesn't appear interested in playing Mister Oz's game.”
BAMA: “Can't blame him. Oz wants to prove he's the strongest man in the room. Judd wants to prove there ain't no room for another strongest man.”
…
The stage alights in red. Smoke gathers around the stage. Gods by Sleep Token plays as XXXVI appears, rising up out of the red lights amidst the smoke, his hands gathered in prayer. He steps out onto the stage and takes in the mixed reaction from the crowd, the Revolution title shines in the spotlight over his shoulder. He shakes out his head and shoulders and begins to walk down the ramp, hands still in prayer pose. Then from behind him, appears CIX. She follows him down the ramp.
TODD: “XXXVI remains one of the XWF's most enigmatic competitors. Even after a lengthy reign as Revolution Champion. We know very little about the person behind that mask, beyond a familiarity with wrestling and a journey of self-discovery that has apparently taken him across the world.”
Bama: “Well, he can discover himself all he wants, long as he discovers himself climbing that cage before the other three discover him.”
Half way down, XXXVI spreads his hands apart and reaches out both arms in T-Pose as he crouches, sauntering down the rest of the ramp toward the ring. He climbs onto the apron, outstretches his arms and then enters, rolling backward over the top rope and spins toward the center of the ring, arms outstretched like a helicopter. He then sits, cross legged in the dead center of the ring, hands once again in prayer pose and bows his head. Full black again, then a single, red cone of light bathes him in the ring as fire explodes out of each turnbuckle. Outside the ring, CIX surveys the crowd as they await the match starting.
…
It shows Tommy in the shadows in a corridor somewhere on the X-Tron in a mask of some sort, and he heads down to the entrance. Once the funky intro breaks into "PAIN MADE TO ORDER", Tommy comes out headbanging to the song and he walks down and gives people some high fives, and even flicking off some people in the process. He then steps up to the side of the cage, and takes the mask off, unveiling a kendo stick to the crowd’s delight.
TODD: “And finally, Tommy Wish. The FIVE-TIME X-Treme Champion! Once a man who claimed he wanted to change his ways, he has since abandoned that effort entirely. Now calling himself The Freak, Tommy seems to have embraced every ugly impulse he once claimed to be fighting.”
BAMA: “I never did trust a man who announces he's turning over a new leaf. Usually means he's just found a fresh way to be a bastard.”
Tommy reaches the cage, swings the kendo stick against the mesh, and laughs at the sharp metallic rattle.
He enters and immediately points the stick at XXXVI.
XXXVI simply watches him.
Tommy turns the stick toward Oz.
Oz looks unimpressed.
Finally, Tommy turns toward Judd.
His grin falters.
Judd stares at him.
Tommy raises the kendo stick, then points it at the X-Treme championship.
TODD: “Well, Tommy Wish certainly isn't lacking in confidence.”
BAMA: “Confidence ain't the same as brains, son.”[/blue]
The referee checks all four competitors. The cage door is closed and locked.
The first person to escape the cage will walk away from Anarchy with the X-treme Championship!
For one long moment, nobody moves.
Then Tommy Wish swings the kendo stick at XXXVI's head.
XXXVI ducks.
The stick cracks against the turnbuckle.
And the entire match explodes.
XXXVI springs onto the middle rope, twists backward, and catches Tommy across the jaw with a springboard kick.
Tommy staggers.
Oz charges.
XXXVI drops flat, and Oz's shoulder tackle sends Tommy tumbling through the ropes into the corner.
Oz turns—
Judd is already moving.
The champion barrels forward and nearly takes Oz's head off with a clothesline.
Oz stumbles but remains upright.
Judd follows with a second clothesline.
Oz ducks.
He plants his feet and drives a shoulder into Judd's chest, forcing the champion backward for the first time.
The crowd roars.
TODD: “Mister Oz has moved Judd Hollow! That is no small accomplishment!”
BAMA: “Now THAT'S what I'm talkin' about! Big fella meets big fella, and suddenly we got ourselves a contest!”
Oz backs up, pounding his chest. He points at himself, then at Judd, inviting the champion to try again.
Judd slowly rolls his neck.
Then he charges.
Oz meets him in the center of the ring.
The collision shakes the canvas.
Neither man falls.
They lock up, foreheads pressed together, each straining to force the other backward.
Oz gains a step.
Judd gives ground.
Another step.
Oz roars and drives forward.
Then Judd stops.
Just stops.
Oz's forward momentum carries him a fraction too far, and Judd slips his right arm beneath Oz's, turns his hips, and hammers a knee into his abdomen.
Oz doubles over.
Judd clubs him across the back.
Once.
Twice.
A third time, with enough force to drop Oz to one knee.
TODD: “Judd Hollow has found an opening! Oz may be his closest physical equal, but Hollow is showing a frightening ability to turn a contest of strength into something far more punishing!”
Judd hauls Oz up by the back of the neck.
Oz fires an elbow into Judd's ribs.
Another.
A third.
Judd barely reacts.
Oz attempts a high knee.
Judd catches him around the waist.
A delayed vertical suplex follows, except Judd doesn't simply lift him. He hoists Oz into the air and holds him there, walking several steps across the ring as though displaying a trophy.
Oz struggles, kicking his legs.
Judd performs a squat.
Then another.
Then another.
TODD: “Good heavens! Hollow is performing squats with Mister Oz suspended in the air!”
BAMA: “Well, Oz says he's a god. Looks like Judd's checking how much worship that body can handle!”
Judd rises from the final squat and drops Oz with a brutal vertical suplex.
The ring shakes.
Oz rolls onto his side, clutching his back.
Judd stands over him.
He doesn't celebrate.
He looks down as if disappointed that Oz is still breathing.
Then he reaches for Oz's throat.
Oz suddenly kicks him in the knee.
Judd's grip loosens.
Oz scrambles to his feet and unleashes a series of forearms, driving Judd toward the ropes. He finishes with a big boot that catches the champion beneath the jaw.
Judd hits the ropes.
Oz charges.
Judd catches him with a boot of his own.
Oz staggers backward.
Judd grabs him by the shoulders and drives him into the turnbuckles with a running splash.
The padding rattles.
Judd seizes Oz around the throat.
TODD: “Tongan Death Grip! He's got it locked in!”
Oz immediately claws at Judd's wrist, attempting to pry the hand loose. His face tightens as Judd lifts him partially off the canvas.
Judd squeezes.
Oz's knees begin to buckle.
The champion holds him there, staring directly into his eyes.
Then a blur of black and blue flies into frame.
XXXVI launches from the opposite corner with a flying dropkick, both boots slamming into Judd's shoulder.
The impact finally breaks the hold.
Oz drops to the canvas, gasping.
XXXVI lands on his feet, pivots, and throws a spinning backfist toward Judd's temple.
Judd catches his wrist.
XXXVI doesn't hesitate. He leaps, plants a boot against Judd's chest, and uses the contact to flip backward, wrenching his arm free.
He lands behind Judd and clips the champion's knee with a chop block.
Judd drops to one knee.
The arena erupts.
TODD: “XXXVI has done what Mister Oz could not! He has taken the champion off his feet!”
BAMA: “Don't get excited, Todd! You ever seen a bear trip over a tree root? Doesn't mean the bear's dead!”
XXXVI backs away, immediately creating distance.
Judd looks at his knee.
Then he looks at XXXVI.
The masked wrestler has the good sense to keep moving.
He darts left, bounces off the ropes, and drives a knee into Judd's shoulder.
He rebounds again and hits a Sling Blade.
Judd rocks backward to the mat… but he’s up before the crowd can even process he’s down!
XXXVI keeps speeding up, diving off the ropes with a springboard crossbody—
…But Judd catches him!
The champion absorbs the impact, shifts XXXVI across his body, and launches him with a fallaway throw that sends the masked wrestler crashing into the cage wall.
Steel rattles violently.
XXXVI crumples to the mat.
Judd turns toward him.
Oz, still recovering, charges from behind and spears Judd between the shoulder blades.
The champion stumbles into the ropes.
Oz catches him with a second shoulder tackle.
Then a third.
Judd finally falls through the ropes and crashes onto the narrow strip of canvas between the ropes and the cage.
Oz stands over him, chest heaving.
He raises both arms.
His followers outside the cage are on their feet, chanting his name.
[b]“OZZZZZZZY! OZZZZZZZY! OZZZZZZZY!”
Oz points down at Judd.
For one brief moment, he looks every inch the god he claims to be.
Then Judd grabs his ankle from the mat and yanks.
Oz crashes face-first onto the canvas.
BAMA: “HA! There goes the sermon!”
TODD: “Judd Hollow seems absolutely unstoppable! He’s overpowering Oz… he’s out-techniquing XXXVI and as for the Freak…”
…
TODD: “Actually, where the Hell is the Freak…?”
Tommy Wish has spent the last several seconds rummaging around the corner where his kendo stick landed.
He finds it.
He smiles.
Then he sees Judd rising.
The smile becomes something considerably less confident.
BAMA: “The Freak’s about to get Freakish with that kendo stick!”
Tommy rushes forward anyway, swinging the stick at Judd's ribs.
CRACK!
Judd absorbs the shot.
Tommy swings again.
CRACK!
The champion turns his head slowly toward him.
Tommy takes one step backward.
TODD: “That kendo stick has done absolutely nothing to slow Judd Hollow!”
BAMA: “I reckon Tommy's about to learn the difference between a weapon and a suggestion.”
Tommy raises the stick for a third strike.
Judd catches it.
Tommy pulls.
Judd doesn't move.
Tommy pulls harder.
Judd takes the stick away and snaps it across his own knee.
The broken halves fall to the canvas.
Tommy stares at them.
Judd stares at Tommy.
Tommy tries to laugh.
It comes out as a nervous squeak.
Then he throws a punch.
Judd catches him with a headbutt.
Tommy drops.
Judd grabs him by the waistband and the back of the neck, hauling him upright. He drives Tommy into the cage wall and begins hammering him with short, brutal forearms.
One.
Two.
Three.
Tommy slumps against the steel.
Judd steps backward.
He charges—
A dropkick strikes him squarely in the back of the head.
XXXVI has recovered.
The champion stumbles forward, and XXXVI catches Tommy by the arm, pulling him clear just before Judd's momentum sends him crashing into the corner.
XXXVI kicks Judd in the back of the knee.
Oz follows with a running high knee to the chest.
Judd staggers.
Tommy, recognizing an opportunity, leaps onto the second rope and springs off with a flying lariat.
All three challengers collide with the champion in a flurry of limbs.
Judd finally hits the mat.
The building shakes with the reaction.
For the first time in the match, the three challengers stand over Judd Hollow together.
TODD: “They've done it! They've actually brought the champion down! Mister Oz, XXXVI, and Tommy Wish have recognized the same thing: none of them can afford to let Judd Hollow dictate the pace of this match!”
BAMA: “Well, look at that. Three fellas discovered teamwork. Somebody oughta write it down before they forget.”
Oz looks toward XXXVI.
XXXVI looks toward Tommy.
Tommy grins and raises both hands as if to say, See? We can work together.
Oz points toward Judd.
TODD: The message between these three men is clear! Keep Judd Hollow down while they can!
Oz grabs Judd by the legs and drags him away from the ropes. XXXVI leaps onto the middle rope and launches himself into a moonsault, landing across Judd's chest.
Tommy adds an elbow drop.
Oz follows with a knee drop.
Judd's body jolts beneath the combined assault.
XXXVI immediately grabs Judd's arm and attempts to transition into a submission, wrapping his legs around the shoulder and twisting the wrist.
Judd's free hand claws at the canvas.
XXXVI adjusts his position, attempting to secure the hold.
For a moment, Judd cannot simply overpower him.
The masked wrestler has found a weakness in the champion's game, and he exploits it with precision.
TODD: “Brilliant strategy from XXXVI! He knows that trading power moves with Hollow is a losing proposition. He's attacking the joints and forcing the champion to work his way out of a technical predicament!”
Judd grunts.
XXXVI tightens the hold.
Oz kneels beside them and begins hammering Judd with forearms.
Tommy circles around and kicks the champion in the ribs.
Judd's free hand closes around XXXVI's mask.
XXXVI immediately releases the hold and rolls away before Judd can grab him properly.
Oz seizes Judd's arm and attempts to pull him into position for another strike.
Judd drives a boot into Oz's chest.
Oz falls backward.
Judd rolls to his knees.
Tommy charges.
Judd catches him with a shoulder tackle that sends him tumbling head over heels.
XXXVI leaps toward Judd with a poisonrana attempt.
Judd catches him around the waist.
XXXVI twists, desperate to escape.
Judd lifts him.
And slams him down with a powerbomb.
The ring shudders.
XXXVI rolls onto his side, clutching his back.
Judd rises.
Oz charges with a spear.
Judd sidesteps at the last possible moment, and Oz crashes shoulder-first into the turnbuckles.
Judd grabs him from behind and pulls him into a German suplex.
Oz lands hard.
Judd bridges upward, releasing him only when the impact has driven the air from his lungs.
The champion gets to his feet.
Three challengers lie scattered around him.
The crowd is roaring.
Judd cracks his neck.
TODD: “The alliance lasted just long enough to demonstrate that Hollow can be hurt. Unfortunately for the challengers, it may also have demonstrated exactly how much punishment he can endure.”
BAMA: “That's the trouble with tryin' to kill a monster, Todd. You gotta make sure the monster stays dead.”
Judd walks toward XXXVI.
He grabs the masked wrestler by the throat and hauls him upright.
XXXVI immediately drives a knee into Judd's abdomen, slips behind him, and snaps off a reverse DDT.
Judd drops to one knee.
XXXVI springs to the top rope.
He looks over his shoulder.
The crowd rises.
TODD: “XXXVI is going airborne! This could be the opening he needs!”
He launches into a shooting star press.
Judd rolls away.
XXXVI crashes hard onto the canvas.
Judd rises behind him.
He catches XXXVI by the back of the neck and drives him into the cage.
The masked wrestler bounces off the steel and staggers backward.
Judd hits a running knee to the chin.
XXXVI drops.
Judd turns toward Oz.
Oz is already charging.
The two collide in the center of the ring with simultaneous clotheslines.
Both men stagger.
Oz throws a forearm.
Judd responds with a headbutt.
Oz answers with a big boot.
Judd barely moves.
He catches Oz around the waist and drives him into the canvas with a brutal spinebuster.
The crowd roars again.
Judd rises and looks down at Oz.
Then he turns toward Tommy.
Tommy is crouched in the corner, watching.
He looks at Oz.
He looks at XXXVI.
He looks at Judd.
His expression changes.
He grins.
TODD: “Oh, dear. I don't like that look on Tommy Wish's face.”
BAMA: “You don't like it? Imagine bein' the fella he's lookin' at.”
Tommy rushes forward and slides between Judd's legs.
Judd turns.
Tommy drives a low kick into the champion's knee, then springs upright with a sitout jawbreaker.
Judd stumbles backward.
Tommy doesn't follow up.
Instead, he turns and starts stomping on XXXVI.
TODD: “What is he doing?!”
Tommy grabs XXXVI by the mask and pulls him toward the ropes.
He looks down at the masked wrestler, laughs, and begins shouting something inaudible over the crowd.
Then he kicks XXXVI in the ribs.
Once.
Twice.
A third time.
Oz, meanwhile, has recovered enough to stagger to his feet. He sees Judd against the ropes and charges with a spear.
Judd sidesteps.
Oz's shoulder crashes into the cage wall.
He reels backward, dazed.
Judd grabs him and drives him into the turnbuckles.
Tommy sees Oz trapped and immediately abandons XXXVI.
He charges toward Oz, not to help him, but to strike him across the back with a forearm.
Oz turns, furious.
TODD: “Tommy Wish has just attacked his own temporary ally!”
BAMA: “Temporary? That alliance lasted about as long as a snowball in July! You put three men like this together, Todd, and sooner or later somebody's gonna remember he's a selfish little rat.”
Oz swings a wild right hand.
Tommy ducks.
Oz's fist strikes the cage.
Tommy laughs and kicks Oz in the stomach.
Oz doubles over.
Tommy grabs him for a DDT—
Oz catches him around the waist and hurls him into the corner.
Tommy hits the turnbuckles hard.
Oz charges.
A running splash crushes Tommy against the padding.
Oz grabs him by the throat.
For a moment, it looks as though he's about to deliver his own version of the same punishment Judd has been dishing out.
Instead, Oz hoists Tommy into the air and gorilla-presses him overhead.
The crowd gasps.
Oz walks several steps toward the center of the ring.
Then he drops Tommy across his knee with a gorilla press gutbuster.
Tommy collapses, gasping for air.
Oz stands over him, chest heaving, eyes wild.
TODD: “Mister Oz has completely lost his composure! He's not trying to escape, he's not trying to conserve energy—he's trying to punish everyone in this ring!”
BAMA: “That's what happens when a man starts believin' his own sermons. Pretty soon, everybody else is just a sinner who needs a good beatin'.”
Oz turns toward XXXVI.
The masked wrestler has pulled himself up using the ropes.
Oz charges.
XXXVI ducks beneath a clothesline, rebounds off the ropes, and catches Oz with a hurricanrana that sends the larger man tumbling toward the cage.
XXXVI follows with a springboard kick.
Oz catches him.
XXXVI twists, attempting to turn the catch into a DDT.
Oz powers him upward and launches him over his shoulder.
XXXVI crashes onto the canvas.
Oz stomps down on his chest.
Then he grabs the masked wrestler by the head and slams him into the mat.
Oz stands and spreads his arms.
He screams toward the crowd.
His followers around the arena respond with a deafening chant.
“OZZZZZZZY! OZZZZZZZY! OZZZZZZZY!”
Behind him, Judd Hollow rises.
Slowly.
Silently.
Oz doesn't notice.
Judd grabs him by the shoulder.
Oz turns.
The champion's face is inches from his own.
Judd tilts his head.
Oz's arms lower.
The crowd rises as the two men square off again.
This time, there is no playful invitation to test their strength.
Oz throws a punch.
Judd catches his wrist.
Oz throws another.
Judd catches that one, too.
The champion twists both arms outward, forcing Oz down to one knee.
Oz snarls and attempts to rise.
Judd drives a knee into his chest.
Then another.
He releases one arm, grabs Oz around the throat, and lifts him.
Oz struggles, kicking his legs.
Judd holds him there.
The champion's eyes never leave Oz's face.
Then he slams him down with a chokeslam that shakes the ring.
TODD: “My goodness! Hollow has completely dismantled Mister Oz in that exchange!”
BAMA: “And that's the difference between a man who thinks he's a god and a man who looks like he crawled outta hell. One of 'em's got a congregation. The other one's got a body count.”
Judd turns toward Tommy.
Tommy is trying to pull himself upright in the corner.
The champion begins walking toward him.
Tommy looks at the cage door.
Then at Judd.
Then back at the door.
He makes his decision.
He charges.
Judd catches him with a boot to the abdomen.
Tommy doubles over.
Judd wraps his arms around him and lifts.
Tommy kicks desperately, trying to wriggle free.
Judd adjusts his grip.
He hoists Tommy into powerbomb position.
The crowd rises.
TODD: “He's got him! This could be the end of Tommy Wish!”
Tommy punches Judd in the head.
Once.
Twice.
A third time.
Judd barely reacts.
Tommy attempts to slide down Judd's back.
The champion catches him by the waist and drags him back into position.
Judd takes two steps toward the center of the ring.
Then he lifts Tommy higher.
The challenger is nearly vertical, suspended above the champion's shoulders.
Judd pauses.
He looks toward the cage wall.
Then he looks down at Tommy.
Tommy's grin is gone.
Judd drops.
DEVIL'S HOLLOW!
The powerbomb lands with a sickening thud.
Tommy's body bounces off the canvas.
The entire ring seems to flex beneath the impact.
For a moment, nobody moves.
TODD: “GOOD LORD! Judd Hollow has just driven Tommy Wish into the mat with enough force to make the entire ring shake!”
BAMA: “Somebody check the foundation! I think Tommy just found the basement!”
Judd remains crouched over Tommy for a moment, his hands still locked around the challenger's waist.
Then he releases him.
Tommy lies motionless, one arm draped across his chest.
Judd stands.
He looks down at his fallen opponent.
No celebration.
No expression.
Just a cold, indifferent stare.
Then he turns toward the cage door.
I FAILED YOU!
Mister Oz is on his knees, clutching his ribs.
XXXVI is sprawled near the ropes, trying to regain his bearings.
Tommy Wish lies near the center of the ring, barely moving.
Judd Hollow is walking toward the exit.
For the first time all night, the champion appears to have made a decision that has nothing to do with inflicting pain.
He's leaving.
TODD: “Judd Hollow may have decided that he has done enough damage for one evening. If he can make it through that door, he retains the X-Treme Championship!”
BAMA: “Smartest thing he's done all night. He beat 'em up, he broke 'em down, now he oughta take his belt and go home.”
Judd reaches the corner.
He places one hand on the top rope.
He turns his body toward the cage door.
Behind him, Oz rises.
Slowly.
Painfully.
His face is twisted with rage.
He looks at Judd.
Then at the championship.
Then at the crowd.
His followers are chanting his name, but he seems not to hear them anymore.
He takes one step forward.
Then another.
His eyes lock onto Judd's back.
TODD: “Wait a moment! Mister Oz is getting back to his feet!”
BAMA: “Oh, for the love of—stay down, you fool! He's already got one foot out the door!”
Oz charges.
Judd hears him coming.
He turns just as Oz leaps forward, both hands reaching for the champion's face.
I FAILED YOU!
Oz attempts to clamp the Mandible Claw onto Judd's mouth.
Judd catches his wrist.
The two men freeze.
Oz's fingers hover inches from Judd's jaw.
Judd's hand closes around Oz's forearm.
Neither man moves.
The crowd is on its feet.
TODD: “HE CAUGHT HIM! Judd Hollow has caught the hand! Mister Oz was going for I Failed You, and the champion has stopped him cold!”
BAMA: “Well, would ya look at that! The good Lord himself couldn't get his fingers in that man's mouth without an appointment!”
Oz roars and attempts to force his hand forward.
Judd's arm trembles.
For the first time, the champion appears to be genuinely exerting himself merely to hold his opponent in place.
Oz drives forward.
Judd gives ground.
One step.
Then another.
Oz's free hand hammers Judd across the side of the head.
Judd's grip loosens.
Oz twists his wrist, trying to turn the struggle into a full Mandible Claw.
Judd catches his other arm.
Now both men are locked together, hands fighting for control, foreheads nearly touching.
Oz's muscles bulge as he attempts to overpower the champion.
Judd's boots dig into the canvas.
The cage rattles around them.
TODD: “This is extraordinary! These two men are fighting for control of the very thing that could end the match! If Oz can secure I Failed You, he may be able to stop Judd from escaping!”
BAMA: “And if he can't, he's about to learn why you don't grab a bear by the teeth!”
Oz drives a knee into Judd's abdomen.
Judd grunts.
Oz throws his weight forward.
The champion staggers backward until his shoulders strike the cage wall.
The metal mesh rattles.
Oz sees his opportunity and tries to wrench free.
He twists his right arm upward, attempting to bring his hand around Judd's jaw.
Judd suddenly shifts his grip.
He catches Oz around the back of the neck.
Oz's eyes widen.
Judd's other hand clamps onto Oz's shoulder.
The champion's expression changes.
It is not anger.
It is not frustration.
It is something much colder.
Oz realizes it a fraction too late.
TODD: “Oh, no…”
Judd plants his feet.
Oz tries to pull away.
Judd drives forward.
The cage wall groans.
Oz's back strikes the mesh.
Judd doesn't stop.
He takes another step.
Then another.
Oz's head is pressed against the steel.
His hands claw at Judd's wrists.
The champion's muscles tense.
And then—
CRAAAAAAAAASH!
Judd drives Oz's skull through the cage wall.
The metal mesh tears around his head and shoulders, bending outward in a jagged opening.
Oz's body goes limp against the steel.
The arena erupts into absolute chaos.
TODD: “OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! JUDD HOLLOW HAS JUST DRIVEN MISTER OZ THROUGH THE CAGE WALL!”
BAMA: “SWEET MOTHER OF BISCUITS!”
Todd rises from his chair, both hands gripping his headset.
TODD: “That wall was supposed to contain these men! That was the entire purpose of the structure! Judd Hollow has just turned it into a weapon!”
BAMA: “I don't think the builders figured on anybody tryin' to knock the wall down with somebody else's HEAD, Todd!”
Judd releases Oz.
The challenger's upper body hangs through the opening, his arms dangling on either side of the twisted metal.
Judd takes a step back.
He looks at the damage.
Then at Oz.
He reaches forward and pulls Oz's body clear of the opening, allowing him to collapse onto the canvas.
Oz lies motionless.
Judd looks down at him for one long moment.
Then he turns back toward the hole.
The crowd is still roaring.
XXXVI has crawled to the ropes and is staring in disbelief.
Tommy Wish has rolled onto his side, one hand clutching his back.
Neither man attempts to stop the champion.
Judd reaches through the newly created opening.
His hand disappears into the twisted steel.
He feels around for something.
Then—
Click.
The cage door handle turns.
The door swings open.
Judd looks over his shoulder at the three men lying behind him.
He steps through the opening.
One foot.
Then the other.
He descends the steps to the arena floor.
The referee rushes toward him.
Judd doesn't look at the official.
He doesn't look at the crowd.
He simply begins walking.
DING! DING! DING!
Winner and STILL XWF X-Treme Champion: Judd Hollow!
TODD: “IT'S OVER! JUDD HOLLOW HAS ESCAPED THE CAGE! JUDD HOLLOW RETAINS THE X-TREME CHAMPIONSHIP!”
BAMA: “THAT'S IT! THAT'S THE WHOLE BALLGAME! THREE MEN WENT IN THERE THINKIN' THEY COULD TAKE HIS BELT, AND ONE MONSTER WALKED OUT WITH IT!”
The official retrieves the championship and hurries after Judd.
Judd stops at the bottom of the ramp.
He accepts the title.
He looks at it.
He raises the championship overhead.
The crowd's reaction is deafening.
TODD: “What an absolutely terrifying display from the reigning X-Treme Champion! Judd Hollow has survived three challengers, weathered a temporary alliance, and literally destroyed the structure that was supposed to contain him!”
BAMA: “You can throw him in a cage, Todd. You can throw him in a pit. Hell, you can throw him in a volcano if you want. But if Judd Hollow decides he's comin' out, you'd best make sure you're standin' somewhere else!”
Thanks so much to all our FANTASTIC segment writers
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