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Climax Control Archives / FACING ALEXANDER RAVEN IN A HIGH STAKES TOURNAMENT MATCH

« Last post by Andrew on October 10, 2025, 08:13:39 PM »

I FACE ALEXANDER RAVEN AGAIN BUT THIS TIME IT IS A HIGH STAKES TOURNAMENT MATCH

As the scene on our screen comes up we see a panning view of the Anaheim Convention Center in California. After the camera person is done panning the location the Network shifts the camera feed to another camera, that is with Bill and Bea Barnhart and their English Bulldog Iris, as they look around the Anaheim Convention Center. We are not sure what is going on with Iris coming on tour with Bill and Bea Barnhart but we are sure we will find out shortly. When the camera person catches up with Bill and Bea and Iris they are greeted by Bill and Bea and they inform the camera person to please follow them around as they walk around the venue.

Bill: Thank you to everyone who has tuned in to hear our comments on my High Stakes Tournament match against Alexander Raven. This is a High Stakes Tournament match between myself and Raven with the winner of our match moving up in the High Stakes Tournament.

Bea: Of course I will be at ringside serving as Bill’s Manager to ensure there is no interference in his match and that the Referee assigned to the match calls the match fair and equal for both wrestlers. Also you have noticed that our English Bulldog, Iris, is with us and there is a back story to her appearance with us again at wrestling events.

Bill: Before I launch into comments concerning my High Stakes Tournament Match against Alexander Raven I want to inform you of something that allows us to bring our English Bulldog, Iris, with us when we are on tour with Sin City Wrestling. I originally took Iris off the list of traveling with me and Bea while we are on tour with Sin City Wrestling because Iris, being an English Bulldog, which means she is large and not high in the intelligence category, she often caused situations that got others mad about her behavior.

Bea For the past several months we have had our neighbor, Andrew, in Lawrenceville, Georgia, bring Iris to doggy obedience training and Iris is now able to remain calm and not lose control of herself, both with her emotions and her bladder. This now allows us to take Iris with us on tour with Sin City Wrestling where we do not expect to have any incidents with her from here on.

Bill: Some of you may know that I have done a lot of fundraising competitions against Iris to raise money for good causes. Sometimes the money goes to Children’s Hospital in Atlanta, Georgia, and a lot of the time the money goes to other good causes. Some of these competitions between myself and Iris are things like a pizza eating contest, a burping contest, and many others including farting contests but Iris usually wins the farting contests. It is fun to do these competitions against Iris and both of us end usually end up with equal number of wins in the end.

Bea: I have assured Sin City Wrestling Management that when myself and Bill are at the wrestling ring during Bill’s matches that Iris will be secured in our dressing room so she doesn’t get out and wander around the venues. I keep the dressing room door secure and locked so that Iris cannot get out and other people cannot get in an inadvertently let Iris out of our dressing room. If I am in a match and Bill remains in our dressing room then I don’t have to worry about Iris sneaking out of the dressing room as Bill will have control of her. While I am busy with my wrestling match Bill is free to take Iris for walks about the venues or along the streets around the venues.

Bill calls Iris over to stand next to him so she is also on camera with jo, and Bea. When Iris is in the camera shot Bill presents comments on Iris.

Bill: This is our dog Iris. I call Iris my doggy daughter since she looks up to me as DADDY BILL and she looks up to Bea as MOMMY BEA. Iris is an English Bulldog which means she has a large body and a pint-sized brain. I assured Sin City Wrestling Management that I would keep Iris under control so they gave me permission to bring Iris with us on wrestling tours. Now I would like to change subjects and talk about my upcoming match at Climax Control 438 against Alexander Raven. It is a match to see which of us will move up in the High Stakes Tournament and who will leave the ring empty-handed. We already know I am going to win but it is okay if Raven wants to hallucinate and think he will win this match. It will be quite amusing to watch Alexander Raven leave our match after I defeat and humiliate him.

Bill and Bea pause their comments while they continue to walk around the venue with Iris. They enjoy the venues and displays and people who are wrestling fans, and fans of Bill and Bea, are constantly walking up to greet them, shake their hands, wish them well in their wrestling matches and, of course, for them to pet and kiss their English Bulldog Iris. After a short walk Bill and Bea and Iris arrive at a venue where they want to take into account what the venue is presenting. After looking that particular venue over they stand in front of that venue and continue with their comments about Bill’s HIGH STAKES TOURNAMENT Match.

Bill: I will give you some background between myself and Alexander Raven. We are nearly even when it comes to wins against each other. I am not keeping absolute specific details on the wins and losses me and Raven have had against each other as the competition is more important than how many wins and losses each wrestler has on their record. The fact that I am again facing an opponent I have wins over, and they have wins over me, in the wrestling ring, so be it. It is for me to continue to add to my WIN column against Raven while adding more LOSSES on Alexander Raven’s win-loss record. I will give you more details on how I stand on our upcoming match later on. I already have a scheduled fundraising challenge against our English Bulldog Iris to raise money for children’s healthcare.

Bea: One of the beneficiaries of my fundraising challenge against Iris is to raise money for two organizations that help children battling cancer but there are other organizations that we donate to. The first organization is the main cancer-specific children's healthcare hospital in Atlanta is the Aflac Cancer and Blood Disorders Center that works with Children’s Healthcare of Atlanta. Here in Anaheim, California, the main cancer-specific children’s healthcare hospital is Children's Hospital of Orange County. We will now move to the location where the challenge between Bill and Iris will take place.

Bill, Bea, and Iris, move to a venue at the Anaheim Convention Center where the fundraising challenge pitting Bill against their English Bulldog Iris, in a pizza eating contest. Bea presents the concept of this fundraising event.

Bea: People in attendance are welcome to donate funds that will be donated to both the Children’s Healthcare of Atlanta and the Children’s Hospital of Orange County. When the challenge between Bill and Iris is done the money raised will be split evenly between the two hospitals. This money helps parents and other family members to help pay the cancer treatment bills and the families to have funds left over to help pay for other items they required.

Bill: Bea contacted the pizza restaurants in Anaheim and she selected the Pizza Factory. Factors that helped Bea in her decision include that the Pizza Factory has been providing pizza for the Anaheim area for over 40 years. Bea told me when she asked if Pizza Factory would like to provide the pizza for the pizza eating contest between Bill and Iris, they not only said YES they also said there would be no charge for the pizza they provide for the fundraising event between Bill and Iris so that more money can be donated to the two Children’s Hospitals to help pay for the cancer treatments. You cannot help but commend a company like that. And, finally, we told the fans in attendance if they wish to donate to the cause that is fine and if they do not want to that is fine also.

Bea: I have a few more comments to make then we will get underway with the pizza eating challenge between Bill and Iris. In addition to Pizza Factory providing the pizza for our fundraising event we have several other sponsors. Some of the sponsors are businesses in Anaheim and some of the sponsors are businesses not physically located near Anaheim. Here is how the pizza eating challenge will work between Bill and Iris. Bill and Iris will be sitting at a table across from each other. Personnel from Pizza Factory will bring one large pepperoni pizza for Bill and one large pepperoni pizza for Iris. The Owner of Pizza Factory has painstakingly ensured that each pepperoni pizza is exactly the same size and weight so that neither Bill, nor Iris, can complain that they had to try to eat a larger pizza then the other. When I ring the bell the timer for their pizza eating challenge will be officially ticking away. Both Bill and Iris have the challenge of eating more pizza than the other. It is as simple as that. The timer will run for 15 minutes and when the time is up the owner of the Pizza Factory will be the one to determine how much pizza Bill and Iris ate during that 15 minute challenge and they will be declared the winner. Bill. . .Iris. . .please take your places at the table where the pizza eating challenge will take place.

Bill and Iris take their place at the table. Both are like the characters of Shaggy and Scooby Doo as they also love to eat pizza as do Bill and Iris. The staff from the Pizza Factory place one pizza in front of Bill and the other one in front of Iris. Iris takes a look at her pizza, then she looks over at the pizza Daddy Bill has, and she registers a complaint that Daddy Bill was given a smaller size pizza that gives him an unfair advantage over her. Bea asks the Manager of Pizza Factory to measure both pizzas so that both Iris and Bill have the proof that both their pizzas are the same size and that neither of them has an advantage in the competition. Bea is ready to officially start the pizza eating contest between Bill and Iris. The staff from Pizza Factory stay close to the table to be ready to refresh the pizzas for Bill and Iris when they have devoured the pizza before them. Bea is ready to start the competition and…Bea sounds the Air Horn and this competition is underway.

Bea: This pizza eating competition fundraising event is officially underway!!!

Bill takes an early lead over Iris but Iris quickly catches up and passes Bill in how much of her pizza she has eaten. After both have finished their pizza the staff from Pizza Factory place the second pizza in front of Bill and one in front of Iris. Both Iris and Bill waste no time devouring the second pizza and the crowd is loving the action with half the crowd cheering for Iris and the other half of the crowd cheering for Bill.

Bea: Five minutes have elapsed. There are 10 minutes left in the pizza eating competition!

Bill and Iris finished their first pizzas and they now have new pizzas before them and the two dive into the newly delivered pizzas. Bill and Iris are neck-and-neck in their pizza eating. As they continue to devour their second pizzas the crowd is cheering on both contestants. As the two finish off their second pizzas Bea announced where the timer is in this competition.

Bea: Another five minutes have passed and we are now into the final five minutes of this pizza eating contest! Bill and Iris have both completed two entire pepperoni pizzas and the final pizzas are in front of them so please cheer them on to the finish!!!

Both Bill and Iris work hard to finish their final pepperoni pizza first but after both have already devoured two large pepperoni pizzas both are getting a bit sluggish and having a harder time to quickly devour their final pizza as the time is ticking down. Even so both Iris and Bill continue to eat as much of the final pizza as they can.

Bea: We have reached final minute left in this pizza eating contest. From where I am located it is hard to tell if Bill and Iris are still tied, or if one of them is in the lead, but it appears to be extremely close.

The last remaining seconds on the timer ticks down and Bea sounds the Air Horn and she tells Bill and Iris this contest is over and that both have to immediately stop eating and they obey Bea.

Bea asks the owner and staff of the Pizza Factory to come to the table and evaluate if it was Bill or Bea who ate the most pizza to win this pepperoni pizza competition. After a close evaluation by the owner and staff of the Pizza Factory, which includes sweeping up crumbs and other parts of the pizzas, they have reached a decision and they have a winner. The owner of the Pizza Factory hands their official decision on this pepperoni pizza contest to Bea. Bea reads the decision by the owner of the Pizza Factory then she raises the mic to her mouth and issues the official decision on this contest.

Bea: Wow! Over the many years of Bill and Iris having contests like this, including pizza eating contests, this is one of the closest results to date. The official decision by the owner of the Pizza Factory is that the winner of this contest, by a mere half inch of pizza crust left over by their opponent is. . .BILL BARNHART!!!

Bill jumps up and brags about his win over Iris but he also knows the decision on the contest could have easily been Iris. Although Iris lost she loves the eating contests against Daddy Bill and she walks over to Daddy Bill and slobbers her with kisses on his face as the crowd cheers both Bill and Iris. Bill and Iris enjoy hugs and kisses with each other and, of course, Bill and Iris remain in love with each other.</>

Bea: I wish to thank the Pizza Factory for providing the pizzas for this pizza eating contest and to decide the winner. I also wish to thank the corporate donors who helped raise funds for the two children’s cancer hospitals with one in Atlanta, Georgia, and the other here in Anaheim, California. And many many many thanks to the wrestling fans here today who also donated money to help the two cancer hospitals.

The crowd erupts in a loud cheer and then Bill, Bea, and Iris, comment into the camera.

Bea: I speak for myself and for Bill and Iris that we are going to take a short break to get to our hotel room here in Anaheim. Once we get back to our hotel room and the camera person has arrived and is set up ready to air more of our comments on Bill’s match against Alexander Raven, we will return to live broadcasting.

After a short break the camera person arrives at the hotel room of Bill and Bea Barnhart, and Iris of course, and they return to broadcasting comments by Bill and Bea on Bill’s upcoming match against Alexander Raven.

Bea: Do you want to start this line of comments or would you like me to start the comments?

Bill: Since you are my Manager, and you will be at ringside to ensure I get a fair match called by the Referee, I want you to start off the comments.

Bea: Thank you Bill. I am officially Bill’s Manager in Sin City Wrestling and I am legally allowed at ringside during his wrestling matches. If any of you have a problem with that feel free to take your idiotic whining complaint to Management and let them tell you to shut the hell up! During Bill’s match against Alexander Raven my responsibilities as Bill’s Manager are many. I am at ringside to ensure the Referee officiates a fair and evenly called match for both wrestlers. If I see the Referee show disrespect to Bill, but they let Raven do whatever the hell he wants to do, there will be a hell of a lot of complaints against the Referee. If Raven uses illegal items to attack Bill with and the Referee fails to threaten him with a suspension, or at least by having him disqualified with Bill winning the match, there will be hell to pay by the Referee. If the assigned Referee calls for Raven to make a break and he fails to do so and break, and even more so if the Referee reaches a five count and still Raven fails to make the break, the assigned Referee will not want to hear what I have to say. I take my responsibilities as Bill’s Manager and if anyone doesn’t like that then you can go into the bathroom and flush yourself down the toilet.

Bill: Damn Bea! Where did that all come from?

Bea: I have been holding a lot of things back but for this edition of Climax Control, and other upcoming Sin City Wrestling Super Card events, I have decided to just let it all out there and see if anyone is really paying attention.

Bill: I am sure most of you, including you Alexander Raven, saw my fundraising event, which was a pizza eating contest, between myself and Iris. As you saw I won the contest as Iris fell short by leaving piece of pizza crust that was just a half inch in length while I had nothing left over from my pizza. That is okay as there will be many future fundraising events between myself and Iris and we have around an equal number of wins over the other so these contests been myself and Iris will continue for a long time. As for you, Raven, after I defeat you I expect you will go into retirement again due to your loss to me. That is fine if you go into retirement again so that we don’t have to suffer with you hanging around Sin City Wrestling.

Bea: Please look into the camera and tell me what you told me before we returned on camera.

Bill: Raven I have never denied that you are a good wrestler. I have also never denied that I am an outstanding wrestler. I don’t keep track of the number of wrestling matches I have been involved in and I also don’t keep a record of all the wrestlers I faced and what my Win-Loss record was against them. I simply show up for my matches, give everything I have, and if I win so be it. . .if I lose so be it. . .if the match is draw so be it. But there is a bottom line involved in our upcoming match. You see, Raven, you can be like Iris who gave it all she had to try to win the Pizza Eating Contest but she came up a half inch short of getting a tie against that would have ended up with us breaking the tie in a tie-breaker. How does that apply to you and me in our match Raven? You, as with Iris, will come up short against me and take the loss to me. You will fail to knock me down and keep me down. I will walk away the winner of our match and I will move on in the High Stakes Tournament while you consider returning into retirement. Everyone knows that you cannot defeat me unless you cheat, violate the rules, or hire people to run-in our our match to take me out of action. If you need to be at that pathetic of a level that you cannot legally win a match, that you have to lie, cheat, and steal, to get a win, then you are worse than pathetic.

Bea: Do you have closing coments for Raven?

Bill: Of course I do! Alexander I want you to know this ahead of time so that you will not be caught by surprise because you will already know what is coming at you from me. Remember that I defeated Iris in a pizza eating contest and Iris came close but lost to me as she left a half-inch size of pizza crust and that cost her the competition. Using that as an example after I defeat you in our upcoming match I will hand you a half-inch piece of pizza crust so you will have a memento of our match, and your defeat at my hands, to remind you of your loss to me. That would also cause you recurring nightmares every time you go to a pizza restaurant to eat. They will bring your pizza to your table and you see the half-inch piece of pizza crust on your plate and your eyes tear up because it brings back the memory of me beating you down and handing you a loss in our High Stakes Tournament match.

With Bill's comments for his upcoming match done Bea gives the CUT sign to the camera person and the camera person cuts their camera feed and our screen goes dark.

Climax Control Archives / You Take ONE Week Off ...and...

« Last post by LJKasey on October 10, 2025, 07:10:23 PM »

Take ONE Week Off And....
Las Vegas, NV

The corridor outside Roth Lecture Hall hummed with the quiet industry of students moving between classes: the soft scuff of shoes, low conversations, the clack of laptop cases. LJ Kasey moved through it like someone operating on autopilot, backpack slung over one shoulder, a textbook tucked under his arm, the other hand wrapped in an elastic brace that had become part of his life overnight.

He’d learned to hide the worst of it. Bruises could be covered with concealer; a swollen eye would settle into a neat crescent before anyone did more than glance. But the ache underneath, the one that sat behind the ribs and above the liver, where a particularly ugly exchange had hit him, that one had a way of settling into his bones and refusing to leave.

Professor Roth’s lecture was a balm of structure. Statutory interpretation and the careful parsing of intent demanded focus in a way training did, but without bruises or blood. LJ took notes, head down, pen moving with the sort of methodical concentration that had gotten him through wrestling injuries and law journals alike. He liked the order of it: read, analyze, extract the argument, deliver.

Halfway through a discussion about limits of federal power, his phone buzzed, a single, insistent vibration under his thigh. He tried to ignore it and subquently He failed.

A single text preview flashed on the screen and the room narrowed: Vincent posted a bounty. $10,000 to any of the bombshells who takes Ally out. Public challenge. He’s stoked the vultures. The sender was Miles.

He didn’t watch Climax Control the night before because he just needed a night to destress from that side of his life. For a second the calculus of the classroom, cases and citations, evaporated. LJ’s pen stopped mid-sentence. The professor’s voice became distant air.

Miles’ next text came in before LJ could breathe: “We will find a way to handle this. Don’t do anything stupid.”

LJ’s heartbeat ratcheted up. He felt suddenly very young and very exposed, like one of those raw, open nerves he’d learned to hide in the ring. A bounty on Ally’s head. Ten thousand. A number that sounded like something from a tabloid or a bad movie, not the living, breathing threat it was in the real world.

He slipped out of the lecture hall after asking permission, an errand to the restroom, a cough, a harmless exit. Outside, the desert light made everything sharp and a little unreal. He thumbed a reply: “I’m okay. I’ll be careful and I’ll see you after class.”

He knew that wasn’t the whole truth. He felt, dangerously, like someone standing on a shifting shore: if he moved wrong, everything would tilt. Classes mattered. Boyd mattered. Law school was a path he’d chosen to build a life beyond the ring, a life he was building with Ally and, in a different but no less real way, with Ashlynn. But so did the person waiting at home who’d pulled him out of what could have been a darker night.

Ally’s name flashed on the screen; he called, hands steadying as his thumb found the icon. She answered on the second ring, her voice warm and immediate. For a moment, the chaos narrowed to that single thread of sound, “Hey love.”

“Hey,” she said. “How’s your lecture going? You sound...off.”

He kept his voice low, because the hallway was suddenly loud. “Text from Miles. He said Vincent’s put up a bounty.”

Silence hit the line like a physical thing. He could hear, in the space after her breath hitched, the click of something, Ally shifting in the apartment, putting down whatever she’d been holding.

“You sure?” she asked, controlled, not the frightened reply he’d expected.

“Yeah. Apparently on the show he threw it out there...briefcase and everything. He texted me the screenshot from twitter too. I haven’t looked at it more than once, I guess that’s what I get for taking days away from social media.” He thought of the barrel of a scheme, of money dangling like a hook. He thought of scar tissue tightening, of the smell of antiseptic in the hospital room he’d been trying to forget.

“Okay,” she said, a minute, then steadier. “We’re not letting it happen. You keep your head on your shoulders, LJ. Classes first, then come home. We’ll figure this out. Together.”

Together. The word buoyed him, half anchor, half promise. He ran a hand over his jaw, feeling the stubble, the small tenderness where the bruises had been worst.

“You’re not gonna be too long tonight, right? I remember you said something about a study group.” she asked, and there it was: the practical question that contained every other one.

He swallowed. Law school, obligations, the slow reconstruction of himself after a savage match — none of it let him off the hook. But neither did love.

“I’ll cancel it and don’t worry about me angel, I’ll be careful,” he said. “I’ll finish my classes and then I’ll come straight home. We’ll talk about plans after that.”

She let out a breath as if she’d been holding it, and the tension in her voice thinned just enough. “Promise me.”

“I promise,” he said.

They hung up, and LJ slid his phone into his pocket. He walked back into Roth Hall for the rest of the lecture with the practiced stare of a man who could compartmentalize, but inside his chest the gears were already turning. Security measures. Counters. Who was likely to take a bounty? Opportunists. Blowhards. People who would see money and not realize they were stepping into the crosshairs of more than one family.

Outside, the Las Vegas sun cut hard angles across the campus. LJ’s next class would be evidence law, the study of proof, of what could be shown and what could be made to look like coincidence. It felt fitting. He exhaled slowly. He’d been learning to read evidence in more ways than one now.

After class, Miles met him at the curb, face set and hands in his pockets with his SUV idled at the curb. Kevin waved from the back seat, small and guarded and unexpectedly present. The city moved around them, bright and indifferent.

“You know that Vincent’s playing games because he’s threatened by you,” Miles said without preamble as LJ climbed in. “We’ll handle it.”

LJ nodded once, but his eyes were already past the parked cars and the palm trees lining the avenue. There was a long list ahead of them, legal options, security, the ugly possibility of having to make threats visible enough to dissuade fools. But he had class to attend, obligations to keep, and a life he’d promised not to let violence swallow.

After being treated to a brief lunch where Miles went on and on about potential plans with Kevin just watching the brothers, Miles took him back to campus. He felt the brace on his hand tug with every turn, a physical reminder of how recent the damage still was. The ache was a constant metronome: study, heal, protect. He’d been told to wait for so long; now the world had put a bounty on who he loved, and waiting was no longer a virtue. It was a liability. And LJ Kasey, who had learned the cost of patience with too many scars to count, was done letting life hand him choices. He’d earned his seat in the room. He’d earned his love. He’d earned the right to stand in front of anyone and declare what was his.

The law class began. LJ took his seat. He scribbled the heading at the top of the page: Evidence: Chain of Custody. He drew a line under it, and on the margin, in smaller letters he barely allowed himself to read, he wrote: Protect what matters. Not waiting. Acting.

The semester marched on. So would he.

------

I’m Done Effin’ Around.

The lights are dim, the city hum bleeding through the windows. The camera catches him sitting at his desk, law books stacked to one side, his brace still on his hand, and that focused look in his eyes that doesn’t belong to a student tonight, but a fighter.

“Funny thing about patience...People always tell you it’s a virtue. They tell you to wait your turn. They tell you good things come to those who hold their tongue, put their head down, and grind. And I did....For a year. I waited while people leapfrogged me. I watched opportunities go to the loudest voices in the room, not the ones who earned it, not the ones who bled for it. And now here we are again… Logan Hunter and Lyle Kasey Jr. Full fucking circle.

I’ll give you this, Logan, every time you and I have stood across from each other, we’ve made it hell. You pushed me further than anyone else on that roster ever did. But you also stole something from me, whether you meant to or not. When you won that Roulette Championship, I should have been next. I was next. Everyone knew it. But no, some self-interested prick had to slide his way to the front of the line while I was told...again...to ‘wait my turn.’ I’m done waiting.”

He leans forward, forearms braced on the desk, eyes sharp with that mix of exhaustion and resolve.

“This weekend, it’s you and me again, Hunter. Two names tied together by everything violent, everything chaotic, everything that leaves scars. People like to talk about you bringing chaos, but chaos is something I’ve learned to live with. They said it was ‘Chaos versus Charisma’ when I faced Vincent. They reduced me to a smile. They attempted to make me a punchline and a press clip. But charisma isn’t a prop. It’s a blade if you know how to use it and I know how to use it.

They keep underselling what I am, what I bring to the table. Yes, I’ve got the smile. I’ve got the education. I’m a law student who studies evidence, who understands the chain of custody and how a case collapses under the right pressure. Underneath that, there’s the same bloody chaos you and Vincent parade around. The difference? Mine has focus. Mine has a purpose. Mine has precision. You don’t see it coming until it’s too late.”

He flexes the wrapped hand and a faint wince crosses his face, then vanishes into a cold grin.

“Let’s be honest, Vincent’s gestures and theatrics are loud. He plants his flag and waits for cameras. He dangles money like a baited hook for opportunists. A $10,000 bounty on Ally’s head? Classy. Real fuckin’ classy, you fuckin’ toss pot. That little stunt doesn’t make him dangerous, it exposes him. It tells me he’s panicked. It tells me he’s afraid someone with teeth might remove what he’s been hoarding. He threw money at cowardice and called it entertainment. That move put a target on the people I love. That move turned his name into a stain. While you aren’t my focus this week, Vinny, I want you to pay close attention to this.”

He lets the words settle, voice like ice.

“So here’s the indictment, plain and simple: you stole my shot. You rode your luck and the favor of people who are good at making noise. You and your cronies carved a short-cut through the queue and left me chewing on the dust. This Sunday? I’m serving the motion for contempt. I’m taking my remedy. I’m not asking for the belt anymore, I’m taking the consequence for everyone who thought they could buy momentum or borrow a path to the top. I’m going to take you ALL on a ride through the High Stakes Tournament.”

LJ stands, the room narrowing as every sentence becomes sharper.

“You want chaos, Logan? I mean your entire life is pure chaos by your own doing but... Fine. Bring it. You want to see what patience becomes when it turns predatory? Watch. I’ve been cataloguing every bruise, every misstep, every borrowed favour. I’ve built a dossier on how this roster hands out privileges and who really earns them. You’re about to be cross-examined in the ring. I will corner you like an exhibit and dismantle you piece by piece. No theatrics, no cheap tricks, just clean, methodological destruction. I’ll make your wins look like clerical errors.”

He steps to the window, stares out at the lights, then turns back to the camera, quieter, final.

“And BY THE WAY Vincent, keep your bounty and your briefcase. Money doesn’t make you a predator. It makes you a mark for the right kind of predator. You wanna threaten the people who mean something to me and you’ll learn the difference between a stunt and a declaration. This isn’t a reality show. This is life and I will not let you gamble with the people who gave me mine.”

A pause. A breath. Then the trademark grin, hard as a promise.

“You wanted me to wait. You polished the stairs for the men who climbed over me. You underestimated what waiting breeds. It breeds strategy. It breeds resolve. It breeds rage you can’t bargain with.”

He pushes back from the desk, the lamp cutting his shadow long across the papers.

“Logan, after everything you and I have put each other through, the blood, the nights we could barely stand....this isn't a rematch theatre. This is reckoning. You better pray there’s a miracle left in your locker, because I’m not coming to survive you. I’m coming to end this...The right way. The only way I know how. Consider this my notice.

Lyle. Kasey. Jr., done waiting. Done effin’ around.”

The camera lingers as he turns off the desk lamp, leaving only the glow of the Vegas skyline in the background.

Climax Control Archives / It's a boy!

« Last post by HBCarter on October 10, 2025, 05:38:46 PM »

Turnberry Towers - Las Vegas, Nevada

The Turnberry Towers, the luxury, high rise condominiums near the Las Vegas Strip, was the central focal point for Carter Kasey-McKinney and his husband Miles, two-time SCW Couple of the Year and currently, the reigning World Heavyweight and Internet Champions respectively.

The famed “City of Sin” was a literal oasis amidst a desert paradise. Nothing and no one ever rested. Especially the closer one got to the Vegas Strip. Even the famed casinos had no clocks within, keeping the gamblers ignorant to the amount of time passing so they would continue throwing money away. Inside the polished marble corridors of the luxury condominium complex, the noise of the Strip faded to a soft hum.

Carter followed a few paces behind Miles, who was walking briskly toward their front door, keys twirling around his index finger.

“Remind me again,” Carter called after him, his tone edging between irritation and nervous humor. “Why can’t I pick up Kevin from school? Or at least tag along?”

Miles stopped halfway through opening the door and turned around with that knowing, lopsided smile that made Carter’s knees weak no matter how long they’d been married. “Because,” He said in a calm voice. “You’re putting it off.”

Carter blinked. “Putting what off?”

Miles tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing. “You know exactly what.” He waved his hand. “We talked this morning and agreed. It’s time to tell the families about Kevin. And you still haven’t made the first move to call your mum and Grams.”

“Oh yeah?” Carter folded his arms. “Have you called your Mom?”

Miles cleared his throat and scratched at the back of his head, “That’s irrelevant.”

“No, you’re right.” Carter nodded. “It is irrelevant. Or it might be, at least. She probably knows by now anyway thanks to Brianna.”

“Brianna?” Miles frowned. “How would she find out from Bri? How would Bri even know?” He emphasized.

“Seriously?” Carter raised a single brow. “Miles, we’ve talked about Kevin on X plenty these past couple of weeks. Brianna is on X. If she’s seen those tweets…”

Miles stood upright, sucking in air through his teeth as the dawning realization struck him. Carter just nodded, “Yeah, see? So if I were you, I’d let me go pick up Kevin while you do some damage control.”

Miles looked to Carter and reached a comforting hand toward his shoulder and gave it a squeeze, one more so out of affection. “I guess we’ve both been putting it off. But it’s gone on long enough, don’t you think? They should’ve known weeks ago.”

Carter sighed. “We just wanted to make sure Kevin was comfortable first. That he felt safe, before we made it official with everyone.”

“And we did,” Miles said, stepping closer. “We’ve done everything right by him so far.”

Carter looked up, caught by the warmth in his husband’s gaze. Miles had a way of grounding him, whether he wanted to be or not. Miles leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to Carter’s lips. “Call your mom,” he murmured, “I’ll go get our boy from school.”

Carter’s lips curved despite himself. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

Miles grinned. “Immensely.” He turned, opened the door, and closed it behind him before Carter realized Miles just left without the topic of telling his family being properly addressed. Carter threw his head back and sighed audibly. He ran a hand through his hair as he turned back toward the open living space. Afternoon light spilled in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, and he took a slow look around.

There was the extra pair of sneakers by the door muddy from recent rain and worn down from P.E. classes. A backpack leaned against the couch. A folded blanket featuring the emblem of KPop Demon Hunters draped messily over one armrest. A half-finished jigsaw puzzle sat on the coffee table beside a stack of sketchpads and pencils. Carter had no idea Kevin had such an interest in art and sketching but he and Miles were actively encouraging it every chance they got.

None of this had been there six weeks ago. Not before Kevin. Before their lives changed in ways neither of them had fully expected but wouldn’t trade for anything.

Carter’s gaze lingered on the small signs of another person’s existence in their home, and how natural they already felt. The extra sugary cereal boxes in the pantry. The 16 year old’s favorite late night snacks of Spicy Dill Doritos or microwave burritos. The quiet laughter that now filled their evenings. Miles and himself struggling with helping with Core Math homework or helping to proofread some homework assignments. Things he never expected to be happening and yet nothing he would look back on with any semblance of regret.

Carter crossed into the kitchen, bare feet padding softly on the cool tile. He opened the fridge and immediately spotted the Dr. Pepper, 12-pack, front and center. Neither he nor Miles had been big soda drinkers. Fruit-infused water had always been Carter’s go-to and he turned Miles onto it as well. But a sixteen-year-old boy who’d spent too much of his life without simple comforts? He’d get his Dr. Pepper. It was one of those small, unspoken compromises that said everything about how much they cared.

He reached for the glass pitcher on the top shelf, its contents shimmering with thin slices of lemon, strawberries, and mint leaves. Pouring himself a glass, he paused and took a slow sip, eyes closed. He then moved toward the sleek walnut desk nestled by the window of the threshold. His laptop waited there, slim and silver, resting in the light. He sat down, turned it on, and a few clicks later, he opened the video call app.

He hesitated only for a heartbeat before selecting his mother’s name, Joanna McKinney.

After a few rings, the screen flickered, then appeared the bright, familiar face of a woman with long, chestnut hair and eyes that mirrored his own.

“Carter!” Joanna beamed. “Oh, sweetheart, look at you. You look wonderful. How are you?”

“Hey, Mom,” Carter said, his heart instantly softening like it always did when he was talking to his Mom. “I’m good. How are you? How’s Grams?”

“She’s fine,” Joanna said with a fond roll of her eyes. “You know your grandmother. Still running the Ladies Auxiliary like it’s a military campaign. Especially now that they’re starting their annual bake sale for charity. How’s Miles? As handsome as ever?”

Carter smiled. “And getting more so every day.”

“Just what I like to hear.” Joanna smiled, resting her chin on her curled fingers. “So what do I owe the pleasure of this call?”

Carter exhaled slowly, trying to steady the little tremor of nerves he felt in the pit of his belly. “I need to talk to both you and Grams, actually. Is she around?”

Joanna glanced off-screen. “You just missed her. She had one of her Auxiliary meetings this afternoon. What’s going on, sweetheart? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Carter reassured her quickly. “It’s just… There's something important I wanted to tell you. Something we probably should’ve shared a while ago.”

Her brows lifted. “Alright, now you’re worrying me.”

“No, no.” Carter shook his head, stressing the point. “It’s nothing bad. It’s good … news. I mean, Miles and I think it is. It’s just … Do you remember Kevin? We told you and Grams about him? The one Miles had been watching over the past few months?”

Joanna nodded slowly. “Yes, a little bit. You didn’t divulge too much because he was going through a lot, the poor thing. You said he’d been through hell with his family, right? And that he was homeless for a bit?”

Carter nodded. “That’s right.”

Joanna’s expression softened, her heart already breaking for the boy she had never even met. “Is he doing any better?”

Carter hesitated, choosing his words. “He was hospitalized for a while after everything he’d been through. Malnutrition, exhaustion. But he’s doing better now. A lot better.”

“Oh, thank goodness,” Joanna said, relief washing over her face. “And he’s in the system now, right? Foster care?”

“Not exactly.” Carter swallowed hard. “That’s what I wanted to tell you.”

Joanna tilted her head. “Carter…”

“While he was in the hospital,” Carter continued. “Miles and I talked … a lot. We couldn’t stand the thought of him going back into the system. I mean, teenagers almost never get adopted before they age out. He didn’t have anyone left, no real family to speak of. His mom is in prison. His father was still around but is as useless as a condom in a convent. So Miles and I…” He exhaled, the words finally coming out. “We petitioned the court. And after a few weeks of hearings, paperwork, and approvals… We were granted legal guardianship.”

Joanna blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

“We’re his legal guardians, Mom,” Carter said, the faintest tremor in his voice. “We have custody. He’s been living with us.”

The silence that followed was long and deep, but not uncomfortable. Just full of understanding. And for a long moment, silence hung between them.

Then Joanna’s eyes widened, her hand flying to her mouth. “Oh, Carter…”

Carter smiled through the weight of emotion in his chest. “He’s living with us now. Officially. Right now it’s guardianship, but…” He hesitated, glancing aside with a small, hopeful smile. “The topic of adoption has come up if Kevin feels right about it.”

Joanna’s face broke into the kind of smile that made her look ten years younger. “Oh, honey! I am so proud of you! Of both of you! That boy couldn’t have asked for better people to take him in!”

“Thanks, Mom,” Carter said, his own eyes glistening. “We just couldn’t let him slip through the cracks. Not after everything he’s been through already.”

“Your Grams is going to flip when she hears.” Joanna said warmly. “When do we get to meet him?”

Carter chuckled. “Soon. I was thinking maybe Thanksgiving at the house in Olympia? I was thinking of gathering everyone there for Christmas this year too.”

“That sounds perfect.” Joanna gushed.

They talked for a while longer about little things, like how Kevin was doing in school, about how Miles had turned the spare room into a proper bedroom. Joanna asked about his appetite, his sleep, his interests. She sounded more like a grandmother already than Carter dared admit. He’d dreaded this conversation, but hearing the happiness in her voice made him realize how unfounded those fears had been.

He was just about to say something when he heard the soft click of the front door opening behind him. The sound of sneakers, the faint hum of laughter, and Miles’ familiar baritone English accent filled the air.

“Speak of the devil!” He murmured, a wicked grin spreading across his lips. He then raised his voice. “Hey, Kev! Come here a sec! I’ve got someone who wants to meet you!”

There was a pause, followed by the sound of shuffling feet. Miles appeared first, smiling knowingly in amusement. Behind him, Kevin hovered uncertainly, his schoolbag slung over one shoulder, his bomber jacket slightly oversized on his skinny frame. His dark curls fell across his forehead, and though he tried to look nonchalant, he was obviously curious and maybe even a tad wary. He stepped closer, setting his bag down gently on the floor. When he finally looked at the screen, Joanna McKinney’s warm, kind face filled it.

“Kevin,” Carter said with a smile. “This is my mom. Joanna McKinney.”

Joanna leaned forward, smiling wide. “Well, hello there, Kevin! It’s so nice to finally meet you! This brat of mine has told me so much about you!”

Kevin shifted awkwardly but smiled back, his voice soft. “Hi, ma’am.”

“Oh, none of that ‘ma’am’ business!” Joanna said, waving her hand. “You can call me Joanna. Or Mrs. McKinney if you prefer. Either’s fine.”

Kevin nodded shyly, tucking his hands into his jacket pockets. Miles had come to stand behind him, resting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Carter took a sip of his fruit water, hiding his grin behind the rim of the glass. Then, with an unmistakable twinkle in his eye, he set it down and said, “Hey, Mom? Remember how you always said you hoped I’d make you a grandma one day?”

Joanna blinked. “Yes, of course.”

Carter held his hands out toward Kevin, grinning wide. “Well, it’s a boy!”

For a split second, the room went still. Then Miles burst out laughing. Kevin blinked in surprise, then broke into a shy, disbelieving smile. Joanna laughed. “I’ll take it!”

Carter then stood up, gesturing for Kevin to sit. “Alright, you’re up, kiddo. Chat with Grandma for a bit.”

Kevin blinked. “Wait, really?”

“Yep,” Carter said, still grinning. “I’m officially off duty.”

Kevin hesitated, then slid into the chair. Joanna began asking him gentle questions such as his favorite subjects in school and what games he liked. Kevin relaxed slowly, answering in short sentences that grew longer as the minutes passed.

Miles wandered over to stand beside Carter, slipping an arm around his waist. “See? Not so hard, was it?”

Carter leaned into him, smiling. “You were right.”

“I usually am.”

“Don’t push it.”

“You know, there’s this old saying. ‘No good deed goes unpunished.’ And I never really understood what that meant until I found myself in this business. Because professional wrestling? It’s not just competition. It’s not just about athleticism or talent or drive. It’s about perception. It’s about ego. It’s about the kind of world where you can hold out a hand to help somebody up, and before you know it? That same hand you used to lift them becomes the one they bite!”

“And the worst part? You can’t even be mad because you knew what this world was when you stepped into it. You know this world doesn’t reward kindness. It exploits it. It mocks it for being soft. And yet, here I am! A visual aide behind the saying.”

“For months, I’ve stood here and said that Alex Jones should have been given a World Heavyweight Championship match. I’ve said it publicly, I’ve said it privately, and I’ve said it without hesitation. Because to me, that’s not just a matter of respect. It’s a matter of logic. And why? How about the fact that the man is a former SCW World Heavyweight Champion. That alone should have put him right back into the picture the moment he lost the title. That’s how this works. It’s how it’s always worked. When a champion falls, they don’t just disappear. They stay relevant!”

“And if that wasn’t enough, not even a month after I won this championship, Alex Jones pinned me in the middle of the ring. One, two, three. Non-title match, yes. But still, he beat me. Now, call me crazy, but if the former champion beats the current champion, shouldn’t that make him a top contender? No, shouldn’t that make him THE top contender? Shouldn’t that have been enough to punch his ticket to the front of the line? Because if that doesn’t qualify you for a championship shot, then for God’s sake, what does!?”

“But that’s where we’re at right now, isn’t it Alex? I’m not like a lot of the so-called ‘champions’ that have come through this company who think holding this title means they suddenly get to play matchmaker. The ones who think the belt gives them the right to handpick their opponents. The sort of men - and women - who try to use that as a means of hand selecting easy pickings to extend their title reign beyond what it might normally be! That’s not me.”

“I know my place. I know my job. I represent this company as its champion. But I don’t run this company. I don’t make the rules. I don’t sign the matches. That’s not how a real champion operates. When you’re a champion, you don’t duck. You don’t hide. You don’t play politics. You defend that belt against whoever they put in front of you. And that is exactly what I’ve done.”

“They said ‘Carter, you’re facing Aiden Reynolds.’ I said, ‘Okay.’
They said, ‘Carter, you’re up against Eddie Lyons.’ I said, ‘Bring it on!’
They said, ‘Carter, you’re defending against the Hall of Famer, J2H.’ I said, ‘Hell yes!’”

“And through it all, through every successful defense, through every headline, through every single moment they said I wasn’t ready for and proved the critics wrong, I still kept saying the same thing: Alex Jones deserves a shot!”

“I said it when I first won this title. I said it when I stood in this ring as the defending champion. And if it were up to me, Alex Jones would’ve been my challenger at High Stakes, the biggest event of the year! Because if I’m going to write a legacy as SCW World Heavyweight Champion, then I want that story written against the best! And for all his flaws, Alex Jones is one of the best.”

“But I’m not in charge. Gwendolyn Hall is. Christian Underwood is.”

“Now, let me make something clear. I’m not questioning Gwendolyn’s decisions. But I did reach out to her. I told her, ‘Hey! Alex Jones deserves this. He’s earned it. If there’s an open slot for a championship match before High Stakes, he should have it. And that’s how we got here. That’s how Alex Jones finally got the opportunity that should’ve been his months ago. And like I said earlier? No good deed goes unpunished.”

“Because instead of gratitude, instead of respect, instead of even the smallest acknowledgement that maybe, just maybe, someone stuck their neck out for him, what do I get? I get a man who has made it his mission to disrespect me. To diminish me. To publicly trash me in front of the world!”

“And for what? Because I did the right thing?”

“I’m not even gonna waste much time talking about Alexander Raven. Wrestling’s version of a toddler who throws himself on the floor every time Mommy says no. This isn’t about him. This isn’t about the endless tantrums and the self-pitying monologues.”

“This is about Alex Jones. And Alex? I hope you’re listening closely. Because for all you know, if I hadn’t gone to Gwendolyn, if I hadn’t opened my mouth on your behalf, this title shot on Sunday might not ever have taken place. You might still be sitting in the back in catering, watching from the sidelines and wondering why your name never made the list. And maybe there’s a reason for that!”

“Maybe Gwendolyn and Christian have looked at that list of contenders every month and said, ‘Eh, not him. And maybe you should be asking yourself why.”

“Because the truth is, maybe they didn’t see you as the kind of name that moves the needle anymore. Maybe, when they thought about putting your name on the marquee, they realized it wouldn’t sell the way it used to. Maybe they wanted a challenger who could draw. Maybe they wanted someone who still had the relevance and the connection with the fans. And maybe, just maybe, they thought Alex Jones just didn’t fit that description anymore.”

“But me? I didn’t see it that way. I saw the former champion. I saw a man who beat me clean in the middle of the ring. I saw someone who could give me the kind of match that tests a champion. And that’s why I went to bat for you! That’s why I vouched for you!”

“Because as much as I love holding this championship, I don’t want anything related to it to be easy. I want to earn it! Every day, every defense.”

“So when you ran me down, when you mocked me, belittled me, tried to tear me apart in front of the world? All I could think was… wow. This is how you repay someone who went to bat for you! This is how you show appreciation! You spit in the hand that tried to pull you up!”

“You keep saying I don’t deserve to be champion. You keep saying I’m lucky or I’m not fit to be the champion. You tell the world that I don’t have the pedigree. That I haven’t paid my dues the way you have. That I don’t carry the same prestige or history or legacy that you think this title deserves. And maybe, in your mind, that’s true. Maybe you think I’m some kind of placeholder. Maybe you think I’m just keeping this belt warm for you until the universe realigns and the ‘real’ king gets his crown back! But let me tell you something, Alex! I didn’t get here by accident! Luck doesn’t survive this long! And luck sure as hell doesn’t defeat the likes of Aiden Reynolds, Eddie Lyons and ESPECIALLY J2H! Can you say that you’ve ever beaten J2H in the middle of the ring? No? Well okay then!”

“Luck doesn’t make it through every challenge this company can throw at you and still be standing here as champion months later! Luck might get you one win. It doesn’t get you a reign!”

“You talk about what I haven’t done. What I haven’t proven. What I haven’t earned. But tell me, Alex! When’s the last time you earned anything without bitching about it first!? When’s the last time you didn’t walk around this place acting like you were owed something just because your name used to mean something?”

“That’s the thing about legacy, Alex. It’s fragile. It’s fleeting. And if you don’t feed it, it dies. You had your runs. You had your moments. You were the man once. And I’m not taking that away from you. Hell! I celebrate it! But what you need to understand is that the world keeps moving. The business evolves. The spotlight doesn’t stay in one place forever. And when it moved off you and onto me, you couldn’t handle it!”

“You couldn’t stand to see someone else carrying the weight you used to hold. And I get that. I get that it burns to see me walking out with your title. I get that it eats at you to hear the crowd chanting my name, to see the posters with my face on them, to hear the commentators calling me the World Heavyweight Champion!”

“But here’s the truth you don’t want to face! None of that was stolen from you! You lost it. You lost it in the ring. You lost it because somebody was better that night. You lost it because the game changed and you didn’t! And now, when someone like me tries to treat you with respect? You take it as an insult. Because deep down, you don’t want respect. You want validation. You want the world to tell you that you’re still the man you were ten years ago. But that’s not my job, Alex.”

“My job is to remind you that times change. Champions evolve. And whether you like it or not, I’m the one carrying this company now! I didn’t win this title because I wanted fame. I didn’t win it to prove a point. I won it because I love this business! Because every time I step into that ring, I leave a piece of myself behind. Every scar, every bruise, every match that pushes me to the edge? That’s not luck. That’s not politics. That’s sacrifice!”

“And while you’ve been busy complaining about who deserves what, I’ve been out there doing all the work. While you’ve been rehashing your glory days, I’ve been building mine. And that right there is the real difference between us, Alex. You look backward whereas I look forward.”

“You see this championship as something that belongs to you because of what you were. I see it as something I have to earn every single day because of who I am! And who I am is the World Heavyweight Champion! That means something to me. It means more than just a paycheck, more than just headlines or merchandise sales. It means I am the face of this company! It means I am the standard every other wrestler is measured against!”

“And if that burns you up inside, if that keeps you awake at night? Good! Because it should! It should make you hungry again! It should make you remember what it feels like to fight for something instead of expecting it to be handed back to you like the Captain of the High School Cheerleading Team!”

“But don’t make the mistake of thinking that hunger alone is going to be enough to beat me! Because I’m not the same guy you pinned months ago. That match? That loss? It changed me. It woke me up! And now? Now you’re not stepping into the ring with the man you beat.”

“You’re stepping into the ring with the man who learned from it. So this Sunday Alex, when that bell rings? I want you to look across the ring and really see me. Not the so-called lucky champion or the guy you think doesn’t belong! See me for what I am! The man standing in the spotlight with you in my shadow! Because this time, there’s no non-title safety net! This time, when I have you on your back and the referee’s hand hits three? It’s closure. It’s proof that I wasn’t a fluke, and you weren’t robbed. It’s proof that this title is exactly where it belongs. But most importantly? It’s me being done with you.”

“And when it’s over, when you’re lying there staring up at the lights, realizing the torch has already been passed whether you wanted it or not? Maybe then you’ll finally understand what I’ve been trying to tell you all along! That respect isn’t given out of pity. It’s earned through humility. And humility is something you’ve forgotten.”

“But don’t you worry about that because this Sunday? I’ll remind you. Because no good deed goes unpunished. And this time, your punishment is me!”

Climax Control Archives / The mirror

« Last post by Alex Jones on October 10, 2025, 06:38:49 AM »

The Mirror

It was the middle of the day.

Nothing special, nothing out of the ordinary. Alex sat in his office. The sound of training drifted from outside the walls — the thud of footsteps in the ring, weights being moved, people talking strategy: grappling, what you should and shouldn’t do. Another typical day at the gym.

But what had been different was Alex and his attitude. For weeks he had been training his son, showing Dylan the way of the world, professional wrestling was in Alex's blood and it was something Dylan had latched onto. A way to get closer to his father while also forging a path of his own making. Over the last few days Alex had left the majority of the training up to Austin, allowing him to not only train Dylan but also run the day-to-day operations of Wolfslair.

Alex retreated into a world of his own making, a place where he could be alone with his thoughts. These memories. He looked over at his phone, watching it light up with messages from Aaron.

She was out of state taking care of a few personal issues. With her gone, Alex had been alone with thoughts he had tried to bury. No distractions meant his mind was free to wander. He tried to fill those days and those thoughts with training: not only training himself but also training the students and Dylan. But spending time with his son, seeing what Dylan was capable of, brought back memories of Dylan's namesake — Alex's younger brother.

Alex sat back in his office chair, reached under the desk and grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels. He pulled it up, grabbed a glass, and poured two shots. He took a sip and held the glass in one hand while reaching over and grabbing a photograph with the other. He took a deep breath and studied it. It was him — a much younger Alex — and standing next to him was his sister Charlie, and on the other side his younger brother Dylan. A photo taken a few months before Dylan passed away.

The memories were still there: all the good times, all the bad times, and the worst moment of Alex and his family's life — the day they found Dylan, the day he passed away.

Alex swallowed hard and put his glass down, leaning closer to the picture before looking up as he heard the door click. Austin stepped in, his long hair tied back in a bun; he shook his head and closed the door behind him, moved through the office and pulled a chair out, sitting down across from Alex. His eyes drifted along the table, ignoring the small glass of liquor for a moment. ”Your son is just as stubborn as you.”

Alex stayed silent for a moment before leaning forward. ”Why? What did he do now?”

Alex waited expecting Austin to tell him that Dylan was refusing to do something or doing something completely the wrong way. But Austin's reply left Alex dumbfounded and shocked. ”He took a booking…”

”What?!?”

Alex stood up, pushing to his feet. Austin shrugged and shook his head. ”I told him not to, but he walked in and said he took one, some independent in Texas. Apparently they heard he was training and reached out right away.”

Alex ground his teeth and shook his head. ”He’s not ready…”

”And we all tried telling him that…”

Alex took a deep breath and moved toward the door; Austin followed. Alex moved out through the gym and found Dylan talking to a few of his friends. Alex folded his arms over his chest as the young kids around Dylan looked at him. They all took the hint and moved away from Dylan, who raised an eyebrow at his father, knowing instantly what was about to happen. ”I know what you are about to say.”

”Oh? Do you now?”

Dylan slowly smiled and shook his head with a small laugh under his breath. ”You’re about to tell me that I need more training and time. That I should’ve told you if I wanted to take the booking, that it’s irresponsible of me to make that decision by myself. And that I need to call and cancel right away.”

Alex paused for a moment because that was exactly what he was about to say. He kept his arms folded over his chest, staring ahead at his son. ”Well, if you knew what I was about to say, and you’re smart enough to know how my feelings would be toward this, then why did you go ahead and accept the booking? Because no, Dyla.... you aren’t ready.”

Dylan took a deep breath and closed his eyes before stepping back and exhaling. He looked annoyed. ”Shouldn’t that be my decision?”

[”No, no it shouldn’t. I understand that you want to get your career going already, but when I was your age—”

”When you were my age you took off over to Europe and then to Mexico because you wanted to do this as a career and you were ready to do it by any means necessary.”

”Yeah, I rushed things and I regretted it. Just like you will.”

Dylan threw his hands in the air and rolled his eyes. ”Will I? At least I’m telling you now what I’m doing and I’m not running to another country to do it. And besides, while you have regrets in your life, they were also moments you learned from. Haven’t you always said that people make mistakes and learn from them more than they do anything else in their life? That every mistake and every regret is a growing, learning experience?”

Austin, who was standing behind Alex, chuckled. ”He got you there.”

”Not helping, Aus…” Alex shook his head but then took a deep breath and looked at his son with a small smile. ”Alright. If you are going to do this and we’re going to do it right, you are determined to make your debut and to take this booking, then I’m coming with you. We’ll both go to Texas and I’ll watch your back. But don’t make this a habit.”

Dylan smiled and gave Alex a small nod. Alex turned and brushed past Austin, who looked oddly calm about the entire situation. As he walked back to the office it hit him: Dylan was way too much like Alex, and it was annoying the shit out of him.

The Grind

”I can’t help but feel slighted. This entire situation is nowhere near ideal. I didn’t get an immediate rematch. When I lost the world championship to Carter, I got pushed aside so someone else could get their shot. Even after I had beaten him one on one I still got told I had to wait.”

He paused and shook his head, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath as he tried to keep himself composed.

”Wait, wait for what? I got thrown into that Internet Championship opportunity — something I didn’t even want — and I had to try and make the best of it. Do you know what it’s like to be thrown into something where you don’t have your heart in it? You are never going to put your best foot forward when you don’t care. And that is the situation I find myself in. I didn’t care about the Internet Championship; I wanted what I deserved. And before anyone decides to try and disagree with what I have to say, I’m going to remind you all again exactly what happened to lead us to this moment.”

“A few months ago the most dominant champion this company had ever seen needed to be beaten. For the sake of this company and for the sake of the world championship, Finn needed to go down. He needed to be taken out and he needed to lose that championship. He is someone who is a great champion and an amazing competitor, but at the same time it went on for too long and was in danger of destroying everything this company stood for. And no one else could do it. Everyone else who tried to face Finn failed. They failed miserably because nobody could solve the Rubik’s Cube that is the Seattle Saint.”

“Until me…”

“No one else did it. No one else was able to do what I accomplished, and what was my thanks for that? I ended up having to go against Carter. And he was able to beat me. He was able to take that championship from me after I had wrestled it out of the grass, but if someone needed to lose. I saved this company and I saved that championship and in the end I lost it to someone who was undeserving. And then what happened? Did I get a rematch? No, of course not, because J2H had to take his shot. That glory-hound piece of shit had to try and get that title back because he couldn’t stand the fact that Finn had broken his record. Because that man had an ego bigger than this company. He never wanted to do what was best for SCW.”

Alex took a deep breath and closed his eyes, his hands balling into fists as he shook his head.

”All I have ever wanted was to make sure this company gets off on the right foot and continues moving forward. It wasn’t moving forward with Finn as champion; it wouldn’t have moved forward with J2H as champion. And I’m exceedingly happy that Carter’s string of luck was able to continue and he was able to beat J2H and keep that championship. J2H winning it would’ve been a step back, just like Finn coming back from his little Alie injury. This company needs a champion. A real champion.”

“And I’m sure that Carter McKinney is going to sit there and pat himself on the back. He’s going to tell you all that he finally gave me what I deserved because I had beaten him. I beat him one on one months ago and he was just now getting around to giving me the title opportunity I had deserved, after I had gone through disappointment after disappointment and had been forced into a situation that I didn’t care about. I had my spirit broken time and time again because I have always believed that in this business and in this company you get things that you earn. And I earned that opportunity against Carter. I earned that opportunity by simply being a champion, I earned that opportunity by simply being me, and I damn sure earned that opportunity by beating him.”

“But it wasn’t until now that he decided to grace me with the opportunity to get my championship back. Not until after I had been beaten down and broken and my spirit destroyed left in a vulnerable state, a state where he’s riding high, able to beat everyone who has come for him, and I’m just old man Alex, pissed off and thrown away like a piece of garbage. Wow Carter, you’re a fucking hero.”

“Face it, as a champion you have let this company down.”

He growls and tries to calm his breathing, feeling his heart race as the anger rises. He closes his eyes again, takes a few more deep breaths before refocusing on the problem at hand.

”I have always been someone who gives respect where it is due. And many probably expected me to show you respect because you’ve been able to face and beat every challenge that has come toward you. But you’re the problem; I don’t respect you, Carter. I don’t respect you because you are not a real champion. You are blind to the responsibilities of being a champion and you have gotten this far on sheer blind luck. I’ve faced people like you before, champions who weren’t ready for it. But most of those challengers who turned into champions proved me wrong.”

“Jack Washington proved me wrong. Mac Bane proved me wrong. But you? You’ve done nothing to show that you’ve learned a goddamn thing. You’re still the same wide-eyed idiot you were before. Running around like a lovesick puppy after your husband. Acting like everything is a big game. Acting like the world owes you and that you are just happy to be here. As a champion you need to be the locker-room leader. You need to be the one to set people right when they fuck up. But you haven’t done that and you won’t do that. You don’t have it in you. And that is where you are failing. You are failing to be the real champion this company deserves. You are failing to be the champion the company needs.”

“And I refuse to sit back and let it happen.”

“I’m going to come after you with everything I am. I have been in this business longer than you have had hair on your nuts. I’ve been in this business longer than your douchebag husband has been shaving, or having that stupid fade through the back of his hair. I have been the best of the best and I have been at the top of the mountain time and time again because I am that fucking good. And everyone seems to forget that; everyone will sweep that under the rug and act like all I am is an arrogant man who runs his mouth. I have earned the right to call myself one of the best in the world and I have earned the right to go after any world championship or any championship period that I choose. You haven’t done anything, Carter. You haven’t earned anything, and people like you need to learn that. So I’m going to beat some respect into you. I’m going to take back my championship and I am going to be the champion this company deserves.”

Climax Control Archives / “Happy Belated Birthday to Me?”

« Last post by Harper Mason on October 09, 2025, 11:01:51 PM »

Harpin’ On With Harper, Harper’s Home, Las Vegas, Nevada
Monday the 5th of October 2025, 15:00pm

*on camera, start vlog, promo part one*

It has been a hectic few weeks for Harper since she lost the Bombshell Roulette Championship to Alicia Lukas at Violent Conduct and now she finds herself among the hopefuls to challenge Frankie Holiday for the World Bombshell Championship at High Stakes as she is part of the World Bombshell Title High Stakes Tournament and her first round opponent is someone she knows very well.

”So yeah, my Bombshell Roulette Title Reign was nowhere near as long as I would’ve liked, I guess the Salco curse runs in the family even though I don’t share Jessie’s last name.” Harper commented as she shook her head, in the background are her two Labradors Logan and Xavier and the two dogs are lounging about. ”Whether Alicia Lukas can do any better remains to be seen but in the meantime? I’m in this World Bombshell Title Tournament for a shot at the biggest show of the year, High Stakes! And already, the intern who writes the show previews is claiming that I was demanding title shots or a spot in the tournament.

Guess they still see me as Jessie Salco from Orlando, Florida with dirty blonde wavy hair as opposed to her straight dark brown hair but I fucking digress!” Harper scoffed as she shook her head. ”Never mind the fact that I did what many Bombshells failed to do and ended Victoria’s Bombshell Roulette Title Reign, never mind the fact that I’ve been working my ass off for the past two years to establish myself as a force in this Bombshell Division, because I’m Jessie’s little cousin, everyone expects me to start demanding title shots now that I’ve had a taste of championship glory!”

Harper lets out an annoyed huff.

”I’m just going to leave that at this, Jessie views the events of 2018 that led to her winning Most Hated as a black eye on her career as a professional wrestler and flat out refuses to talk to me about it in detail, did you not consider for even a second that she might have warned me about repeating her “title shot campaign” tactics as she called them back in the day?” Harper asked as she let out a deep breath. ”Sorry, I needed to get that of my chest after I read the match preview for my upcoming Tournament Match and low and behold? It’s against someone who’s wrestled both me and Jessie in the past.

Tell me Crystal, has Mercedes gotten tired of you riding her coattails yet?” Harper asked with a grin as she brushed some hair over her shoulder. ”Guess we’ll find out on Sunday won’t we when we face off in the final opening round match of the High Stakes Tournament for the Bombshell Side! And because neither you or Mercedes can do anything on your own these days? The Ancient Argentinian is your manager for this match!”

Harper groans as she runs a hand down her face.

”I swear if the Bombshell Tag Team Division was still a thing I’d be calling you two the Retirement Home Express! Me and Cassie for that matter.” Haper grins as she leans back in her chair. ”That reminds me Crystal, has Mercedes paid you back yet? After all, the only reason she’s a three time Bombshell Internet Champion is because you helped her beat Lilith Locke to get the title back! Or are you hoping that her managing you throughout the tournament will be more than enough to cover it?

Because spoiler alert: The Not-So Golden Girls are going to be in for a rude awakening on Sunday!” Harper says as she makes a fist. ”Your recent win/loss record has left a lot to be desired Crystal and it’s not going to improve at my expense on Sunday, hope you ladies remember your walkers!”

*end vlog*

Walking the dogs, Las Vegas, Nevada
Monday the 6th of October 2025, 16:30pm

About an hour and a half after she cut her first promo for the Crystal Caldwell match we see Harper walking her two dogs with her manager Joshua Acquin walking Logan while she walks Xavier.

”Cass gave it her all in the World Bombshell Title Match against Frankie last night.” Harper commented as they walked the two dogs towards a local dog park. ”And if I win this tournament then I’ll be the one to continue the fight for Young Justice at High Stakes.”

”Would almost be an inversion of the last cycle, if it weren’t for the fact that neither you or Cass currently hold a title in SCW.” Josh nodded in response to Harper’s comment and Harper quickly adjusted Xavier’s lead as she spots another dog coming out of the dog park and Josh does the same. “But if I have anything to say about it? That’ll change soon!”

”At least we’re on the same wavelength there.” Harper responded as she stroked the younger of the two dogs Xavier. ”Even if I don’t win the tournament my win over Victoria definitely sent my stock in the Bombshell Division through the roof though, and with talks going on about Alicia’s first challenger? They’ve got to be looking at whoever gets eliminated from the tournament for their options.”

“That is most likely, though I doubt Kayla Richards will be happy if they set her up as Alicia’s first challenger.” Josh pointed out as they entered the dog park and started walking around. “Of course, the same goes for Mercedes’s next challenger.”

”True, it’s a safe bet that Mercedes will have her eye on whoever doesn’t last in the tournament as well.” Harper nodded as she brushed some hair over her shoulder. ”Especially if I eliminate Crystal from the running on Sunday.”

“Easier said than done given their propensity for teamwork but not impossible.” Josh nodded in agreement before they reached a stretch of grass and let the dogs off the lead so they could play fetch with them. “How athletic are your dogs?”

”Labradors are athletic dogs in general, seriously you should see them jump into a lake.” Harper responded before taking a tennis ball from Josh. ”Yet it’s always an intense negotiation whenever I have to get one of them in the bath! But yeah, given their young age? Playing fetch shouldn’t be an issue for them!”

“Glad to hear it.” Josh responded before they started playing fetch.

Harpin’ On With Harper, Local Dog Park, Las Vegas, Nevada
Monday the 6th of October 2025, 18:00pm

*on camera, start vlog, promo part two*

Josh and Harper now have the dogs back on the lead and are resting on a bench while the dogs catch their breaths, Josh uses this opportunity to film her second Vlog.

”If there’s anything 2025 has given SCW, it’s a mystery for the ages: why, after years of apathy towards the titles, did Mercedes suddenly start giving enough of a crap for a career renaissance when she’s definitely been around longer than me and Cass have been alive and why she puts up with a leech like Crystal?” Harper asked as she brushed some hair over her shoulder. ”I mean, really Crystal, you’re contempt with being Mercedes hanger on while she parades around the Bombshell Internet Championship? Are you seriously telling me that you don’t have any designs on that title yourself?

Oh wait, the one time you tried to make yourself Mercedes’s first challenger got laughed out of the office by the owners, I forgot, sorry!” Harper commented with a dry laugh. ”And yet I get flack whenever I even bring up the champions on Climax Control, double standard much?”

Harper shakes her head.

”And really Crystal, outside of helping Mercedes win her title back from Lilith, what exactly have you done of note since you attached yourself to Mercedes’s hip?” Harper asked rhetorically as she stroked her dog. ”Wrestled Seleana for the millionth time at Violent Conduct? I said of note, not your marital spats that no one cares about! Oh yeah, you were in that Battle Royal that led to Frankie winning the title.

Remind me again, how did that work out for you?” Harper asked as she looked at her nails absentmindedly. ”I mean, the fact that they scrambled to put together that mud pi………..oh I’m sorry, I meant Ball and Chain Match, don’t think I need to get into how much of a shitstorm that stirred up but the point is? You lost the battle royal and the ball and chain match, you know what that tells me?”

Go on, guess.

”That the cracks in your armour are almost as wide as the Grand Canyon!” Harper added as she folded her arms. ”And don’t forget, as short as my Roulette Title Reign was? I still earned it by exploiting similar chinks in Victoria’s armour, chinks so bad that she only started winning again after she brought in her own little hanger on!

I mean, the guy is the whole reason Victoria beat Kayla last night so he’s gotta be doing something right!” Harper added as she stretched her arms a bit. ”Of course the fact that we’re both entering this match with managers does level the playing field a bit but in the end? I’m going to ensure that your losing streak continues Crystal, regardless of Mercedes’s interference in this match!”

*end vlog*

Outside Harper’s loft, Las Vegas, Nevada
Monday the 5th of October 2025, 20:00pm

Josh and Harper have just returned with the dogs from the dog park, this time Harper is walking the two dogs while Josh is carrying some groceries that they stopped to get on the way.

”You sure that’s everything?” Harper asked Josh as he eyes the bags in his hand he nodded. ”I didn’t even need that much, we’ll be heading out to Anaheim on Wednesday,”

“Maybe but it’s good to keep the freezer stocked for when you get back.” Josh responded before he set the bags down and Harper nodded before putting Logan’s lead in the same hand as Xavier’s so that she could dig around her pockets for her keys with her free hand. “Just got a couple of bags to grab from downstairs, won’t be too long Harp.”

”Sure, once I get the dogs in I’ll work on getting the rest of the bags in the loft.” Harper called back to him before Josh went around the corner. ”What pocket did I put my keys in again?”

Seconds later Harper’s new neighbour from down the hall, an attractive young guy around her age, left his loft and started walking towards the elevator. “Oh hey, you’re the girl who lives here right?” He asked upon seeing Harper and she smiled politely.

”Yeah, that’s me, I noticed you move in after Mrs. Peterson moved.” Harper commented before finally grabbing her keys. ”Name’s Harper.”

“My name’s Tyler.” Tyler responded before looking at the two dogs as they sniffed around his feet. “Hey there little guys! Aww, you’re so cute!”

”The shorter one is called Logan and the other one’s called Xavier.” Harper explained as she watched her dogs make their new friend. ”Had them since they were puppies but they are two and three now.”

Before either round adult could do anything? The dogs got the zoomies at the same time and started running around Harper and Tyler’s legs before she could do anything? She ended up laying on top of Tyler, the leads wrapped around both legs. “Well, this is awkward.” Tyler laughed nervously as they realized what it looked like and Harper tried to get free.

”Yeah, just a little bit.” Harper laughed as she struggled to get herself free. ”At least it can’t get worse………….”

“Need some help?” Harper and Tyler glanced up as Josh rounded the corner with an amused look on his face.

”Err, yeah! Please!” Harper requested and Josh got to work.

Harpin On With Harper, Harper’s Loft, Las Vegas, Nevada
Monday the 6th of October 2025, 21:00pm

*on camera, start vlog, final promo part*

We cut to the inside of Harper’s apartment where we see Harper getting ready to cut her last promo for the match.

”On paper this is a clash of a rookie vs. a veteran, especially with Mercedes in Crystal’s corner, but in reality?” Harper asked as she made herself comfortable. ”I’m a former champion who’s looking to get back in the title scene as soon as possible and Crystal’s a supposed Hall of Famer in search of relevance and I’m not even sure when she last won a match!

In other words Crystal? We are not the same.” Harper added as she shook her head. ”Then again, anyone with a working pair of eyes who watches SCW regularly could tell you that same thing, but aside from getting one step closer to Frankie? What does this tournament mean to me?”

Guess.

”Well for one thing I turned twenty one on the 16th of September so this is officially my first match where I’m old enough to drink so Happy Belated Birthday to me!” Harper added before letting out a short laugh. ”That aside? It’s about me getting a win back, over both you and Mercedes because I need to avenge that loss to Mercedes and that tag team loss to you and Mercedes right before Violent Conduct!”

It's that simple.

”So you’ll forgive me for being a little extra motivated this week Crystal, or you won’t, I don’t care!” Harper added with a shrug. ”After all, I didn’t exactly hold the opinions of those with delusions of relevancy in high regard but throw in the fact that you have been Mercedes’s sidekick for the past few months Crystal? And I have even less respect for you than I already did!”

And with that Harper decided to wrap things up.

”But hey, maybe Mercedes will take pity on you and try to get you a shot at her, I mean we’ve already had you in one Supercard match that no one cares about, why not two? Because that’s a match that not even the Bombshell Internet Championship could make interesting!” Harper added as she looked straight at the camera. ”For you see? “The Skaytanic Avenger” Harper Mason may be down but I’m not out and as the world looks for their new hero? I will see that justice is delivered! See you in the ring!”

Harper turned off her camera as the scene fades.

Climax Control Archives / Better Late Than Lucky

« Last post by RyanKeys on October 09, 2025, 10:19:53 PM »

RYAN KEYS — Better Late Than Lucky

The Anaheim night hums with an odd kind of electricity. Inside the Convention Center, workers are tightening ropes, testing microphones, and taping down cables, but out here? Out here it feels like another show entirely. The carnival sprawled outside is a different kind of stage. Only it’s not a stage bursting with energy anymore. This is the last call of a long day. The smell of fried dough and buttered popcorn hangs in the cool air, sticky-sweet and faintly burnt. Crumpled tickets scatter across the ground like confetti from a party nobody bothered to clean up. Lights overhead buzz, some flickering, some already dark, giving the midway that haunted glow of a dream that won’t quite end.

And walking down the middle of it all, casual as anything, is Ryan Keys. Not in sequins, not in ring gear. Just a plain hoodie unzipped over a white T-shirt, jeans faded at the knees, sneakers unlaced. He strolls like this is his runway, like the empty midway was set up for him alone. His grin stretches wide, and his head swivels left and right as if every booth is still open and begging for his dollar.

Ryan Keys: “Now this… this feels right. Anaheim. Climax Control. A carnival sittin’ right outside the Convention Center? Come on. You can’t write it better. Lights flashin’, rides creakin’, chaos around every corner. And tonight? Roulette decides it all. You spin the wheel, and your whole night changes. That’s my kind of party.”

His sneakers crunch across the gravel as he wanders closer to a dart booth. Half the balloons sag, half are gone. The worker behind the counter is already boxing up the last of the cheap prizes. But a dart lies on the counter like an invitation. Ryan picks it up, twirls it in his fingers like he’s holding a microphone, and lets it fly. The dart misses by a mile, bounces off the plywood, and clatters to the ground.

Ryan doesn’t blink. He reaches over, grabs a stuffed rabbit from a box, and holds it up like he’s just claimed gold.

Ryan Keys: “See that? Didn’t hit a damn thing. Still walked away with the prize. That’s me in a nutshell. Never been perfect. My aim? Usually off. My timing? Always late. But when I connect? When I hit? It’s the shot that counts. That’s Roulette in one sentence. You don’t need every spin to land. You just need the one that matters.”

He tosses the rabbit over his shoulder and keeps walking. Up ahead, a painted clown cutout leans against a booth, its paint cracked and peeling. One eye is half gone. Its mouth stretches in a grin that feels too wide, too human. Ryan slows his pace, side-eyes it, and mutters.

Ryan Keys: “…Man, I don’t trust clowns. Never did. Always grinnin’, always waitin’, always lookin’ at you like they know somethin’ you don’t. Bet one’s lurkin’ out here right now, ready to pop out when I least expect it.”

He glances behind him, scanning the empty midway. Only the squeak of the Ferris wheel answers. He shakes his head, laughs nervously, and keeps moving.

Ryan Keys: “Look, I already beat one, right? Stared it down, walked out standin’. Doesn’t mean I’m relaxin’. That paranoia don’t go away. I’ll probably be watchin’ over my shoulder for the next decade. But if I can handle that? Brandon Hendrix? Roulette? That’s nothing.”

Ryan digs a coin from his pocket as he nears the Ferris wheel. The lights blink unevenly, half gone, the other half buzzing weakly. He flips the coin, catches it, taps it against the railing.

Ryan Keys: “Brandon Hendrix. Big man. Six-five. Two-sixty-five. Built like a tank. People see you comin’ and they expect wreckage. And you bring it. Respect where it’s due. But you wanna know the thing about tanks? They only go straight. They don’t spin. They don’t swerve. They don’t play games. And this? This isn’t about goin’ straight. This is about Roulette. This is about chaos. And chaos is where I live.”

The midway narrows. A ring toss booth waits on the corner. The bottles are stacked, but most have been packed away. A single plastic ring lies forgotten on the counter. Ryan picks it up, flicks it sidearm, and watches it bounce off the table and fall short. He throws his head back and laughs.

Ryan Keys: “See that? Missed by a mile. Still feels like a win. That’s the secret. I don’t need every throw to land. I don’t need to look perfect. I just need the one that changes everything. And that’s how Roulette works. Chaos don’t ask you to be perfect. It just asks if you’re ready to spin.”

Ryan walks toward the carousel. Its horses are frozen mid-gallop, chipped paint smiles pointed into the dark. He swings a leg over one, straddling it like he owns the ride, arms folded across the pole.

Ryan Keys: “People look at me and see the party guy. The Life of the Party. They think I’m just out here jokin’, smilin’, dancin’. But you don’t last ten years in this business if that’s all you are. You gotta have more. And me? I got more. Chaos don’t scare me. It never did. I don’t run from it. I live in it.”

He leans forward on the carousel horse, rocking back and forth, eyes fixed down the midway where the clown cutout still sits.

Ryan Keys: “Still don’t trust ‘em.”

Ryan Keys: “Brandon, you’re serious. You’re the kinda guy who locks in, who doesn’t blink, who doesn’t joke. And that’s respectable. But me? I’m built for the spin. People look at Roulette like it’s unfair, like it’s a disadvantage. Me? I see it as the great equalizer. Doesn’t matter how big you are, how tough you are, how scary you look. The wheel don’t care. It just spins. And when it lands, it favors the one who’s ready for anything. That’s me.”

He wanders past a popcorn cart. The butter smell clings to the air. A few kernels are left on the counter. Ryan plucks one, pops it in his mouth, chews.

Ryan Keys: “Let’s play it out. The wheel lands on a Ladder Match. That’s perfect. I’ll climb, I’ll dive, I’ll swing like a kid on the monkey bars. You can throw me down, sure, but I’ll get up, climb again, and if I fall? I’ll probably laugh on the way down. Because it ain’t about how many times you get knocked off. It’s about who’s smilin’ when they’re still standin’ at the top.”

He slaps a ladder propped against a nearby ride, nodding like it’s a sign from above.

Ryan Keys: “Street Fight? Even better. No boundaries, no limits. That’s just a party moved to the floor. I’ll throw knees, elbows, spin kicks, whatever gets the crowd off their feet. You might think the size advantage saves you, but chaos don’t care about size. It cares about surprise. And surprise? That’s my specialty.”

Ryan swings by a shooting gallery booth, grips one of the chained plastic rifles, and fires at nothing. The hollow click echoes in the silence.

Ryan Keys: “No DQ? Please. I’m from Vegas. You ever seen a Vegas party at three in the morning? Bottles flyin’, chairs breakin’, people laughin’ about it after. You think a chair shot’s gonna throw me off? Nah. It just feels like home.”

He sets the rifle back down gently, smirking. His sneakers scuff across the gravel.

Ryan Keys: “Submission Match? Fine. Not my favorite, but I’ll find a way. I’ve been locked up before, twisted in knots, and I’ve always found a way out. You think you’re lockin’ me down? I’ll slip right out. And if I gotta choke somebody out? Well, guess the Life of the Party just found a new closing act.”

The midway is darker now. One row of lights fizzles out. The clown cutout is closer again, its shadow long under the last bulb. Ryan stares for a long beat, mutters under his breath.

Ryan Keys: “Still don’t trust ‘em.”

His tone softens as he reaches the Ferris wheel again. Half the lights are gone. Workers are finishing up. Ryan pulls his phone from his pocket, glances at it, and his eyebrows jump.

Ryan Keys: “…Wait. Call time already passed? Man, I thought I had another hour.”

He pockets the phone, still laughing as he strolls toward the Convention Center doors, shoulders bouncing with each step like a man who’s never once panicked about being late in his life.

Ryan Keys: “Guess I’m late again. Story of my life. But hey — better late than lucky, right?”

Behind him, the carnival goes dark one booth at a time, each bulb flickering out until only the Ferris wheel remains. It spins slow, groaning in the night, casting shadows across the lot. Ryan doesn’t look back. He keeps walking, hoodie bouncing against his shoulders, grin still on his face.

Ryan Keys — Back in SCW. Better Late Than Lucky.

Climax Control Archives / Chapter 7: What Do You Do For Money, Honey? (Part 2/2)

« Last post by Frankie Holliday on October 03, 2025, 11:55:01 PM »

I am your champion, Sin City Wrestling.

Now do you believe me?
Now do you trust me?
Now do you understand what I am trying to do?

This is important! I am changing lives and I need you to get on board with me so that I can inf- I mean affect lives. Careers even! But what I don’t need is you doing the same thing over and over again. We are done with the cycle of random championship matches and random contenders on random shows. It’s OVER. This should be the last goddamn time that any champion has to go through this.

I should be celebrating, and I did for a couple of weeks. I drank and smoked and fucked. I had a good time. Because I am at the top. I am on top. And I will stay there because this company NEEDS me. You understand, it needs me. There is no need to pussyfoot around and have some kind of peaceful transfer of power.

No. I am in charge, and I am changing things. There is a vision here.

So, I’m going to let this one slide. But this is the last time.

The very last time.

“We’ve got some hot girls for you, we’ve got some great drinks. So sit back, and relax. Coming to the stage at this time… Get seduced by … Sin.”

That was my name. I suppose it fit me at the time. Or… really, it still does today. But that’s not the point.

I was one of the more popular girls, but there were girls who were better dancers, looked trashier, had a bigger ass, bigger tits and whatever, but I made due with what I had.

I had come pretty far using my assets, so I felt a sense of pride dancing on that stage and taking my clothes off. Pretty far indeed.

I danced on that stage and I felt good about myself. I didn’t really enjoy myself though. I understood that this was a business and these dudes, and some girls, were paying customers. We gave them naked women and booze. I learned during this time that the weirdos were the ones without a vice. We all have skeletons,

They just have more.

One of the things I actually bought for myself was a bike. I was able to get around. I really had enough for a small car, but the whole idea of having a car didn’t appeal to me. A bike wasn’t the greatest thing in the world, but it would enable me to be more vigilant when it came to the road.

I used the bike to get to and from work without a hassle, and just putting it in Barry’s office ensured nobody was going to steal it. It helped me get around and I was then able to enroll in pole dancing classes to get better at my job. The pole left so many burns and scrapes on my body I looked like I had fallen off a fucking mountain sometimes. I fell a lot. Bruised my body up pretty bad, but after some hard work, I was pretty good at it.

Anyway, as “Sin” I was able to just play the role and have fun. Frankie’s problems were forgotten for a few hours. Sin did things for people. She got people off. Let their imaginations run wild. It was easy money to be “Sin.” It was fine. It was a living. But, even at 20, I understood that this couldn’t be a career. I needed to change things around.

I was still living with Heather, but at the same time, I was trying to find a place to live on my own. An apartment was going to eat into my money at an absurd rate. I paid Heather like $200 a month and bought some groceries from time to time. An apartment was going to be like $600 a month at bare minimum, and that was for the shitty ones. A decent apartment would have been over a thousand dollars a month. That was going to take my money faster than I could make it. It really wasn’t worthwhile.

But I couldn’t live with Heather forever.

I biked around several neighborhoods and scoped out nice places to possibly live. I had like… maybe $8-9,000 with me. And I realized that this was a huge problem. I had some money in my account from home, but that was a local bank which… obviously wasn’t in Reno. I had to open a second account and so, I biked to Chase and put all my money into an account. It obviously looked a bit crazy that I was depositing so much cash into the bank, but I took all my money as cash. My pay from Barry, tips and the $200 bucks I charged the John’s for sex was all cash.

I didn’t know how the hell strippers did their taxes.

I did eventually get a W-2 from the IRS with all the stuff on it, and it matched so… I guess it’s fine. The IRS has yet to come after me for tax evasion, so… whatever.

Anyway, I kept looking at houses like I could actually afford one. That whole process was draining to even think about. The fact was I needed a proper place to stay, but I couldn’t really afford to live there long, nor could I continue to just live with Heather and Ryan with it being kind of awkward after Ryan and I hooked up.

I was making good money, just not a lot of it. And it goes fast, especially in a place like Reno.

One night, I decided to walk around and there was a house party going on. Some dude was having a fun get together with some friends. I decided to invite myself. His door was closed, but his backyard was wide open. There were people outside, drinking, laughing and having a good time. I let myself in and not one person questioned who I was or why I was there. I assume they all figured I knew the homeowner in some capacity.

A few I even recognized from trips to the strip club.

I had a couple of drinks, despite being underaged, but it wasn’t like someone was carding people. A guy I knew from the club came up and starting talking to me, I blended right in.

“Do I know you from somewhere?”

“I don’t know. Depends on how many trips you’ve made to Fantasy Girls.”

“Oh yeah. You work there? Yeah, yeah that’s right. How do you know Trent?”

I now knew the Homeowner’s name.

“The same way I know you.” I smoothly lied with a sly wink.

“Nice.”

It was around 2am, when the party began dying down. I made my way into the house where people were playing beer pong among other things. I explored Trent’s house. It was fine. Nice carpets, some hardwood floors and nice furniture which really tied the room together. People were leaving, and I found a spare room which was clearly used for storage. There were plastic bins with heaps of clothes and other items neatly stacked.

I figured by this point, I would just crash there for a bit.

I felt like I finally found a nice place to stay.

The only problem was there was already someone else living here. I was technically trespassing and squatting in his house, But… as long as he didn’t know, it wasn’t going to hurt him, or me.

I hid in the closet for a little bit until Trent, or… I guess it was Trent, turned down for the night. Once I was sure he was asleep, I got out of the closet. I couldn’t crash in a bed, that would be too obvious. I also didn’t want to eat his food, since that would be another giveaway. I wanted to be close to a door in case something happened, and I found I could climb into a little nook in his pantry. I got in there, and used some packages of cookies, Oatmeal and other stuff to hide myself from view. I spent the night cramped in that little hole. It wasn’t perfect, but it worked.

Trent left in the morning, making himself some eggs and coffee before skipping off to work. I watched him pull out of the driveway, and I now had the house to myself. I explored further, seeing where Trent actually lived. He had a home office, a nice living room and a nice bed. As far as I could tell, he was single. The toilet seat being up was a dead giveaway. That morning, I relaxed on his couch and watched some TV and took a nap on his couch. I went through his keys, and found the spare house key after testing it on some doors. So, because I hid in the storage room closet, I knew he never went in there. I went back, and unlocked the window to leave, and left it unlocked so that I could return later.

I took it, and quickly went to a local hardware store and had a replica made. I now had keys to Trent’s house.

Not really knowing how long Trent would be gone, I made sure that I would be gone before he came back. I also had to work so I couldn’t just stay there forever. But I did want to come back. There was just something thrilling about the idea of staying in this man’s house without his knowledge. How long could I keep it up? What would he do if he found me?

It was very exciting to me.

I would stay with Heather after that on days I worked. Days I didn’t, I would return to Trent’s house. I always ensured I didn’t still have glitter or anything on me. I would always eat out so that when I arrived, I wasn’t bringing anything with me. No traces.

I was chilling in his house one day and saw his car pull into the driveway.

“Shit.”

I turned off the TV, and made my way to the storage closet as quickly and quietly as possible. I hid there until I heard him open and close the door again and the car started up. He must have forgotten something. I crept out and watched him pull away again.

A close call for sure.

It was fun, but at the same time, I understood that I needed more. I did need a permanent place to stay. But nothing here was going to work. Living in Trent’s home was a crime. Heather’s place was awkward. Everything else was too expensive. I had to find some kind of way to make a lot of money fast and large enough to sustain me.

Tough choices were ahead.

Congratulations, Cassie Wolfe.

You are an extremely lucky girl.

You are the last beneficiary of the previous way of doing things. You will serve as the final example of everything that was wrong with it, and why it’s going away. There won’t be anyone who undeservingly receives a championship match after you have this one.

I know you may think that winning your previous match gives you some kind of momentum, or some kind of fuel to possibly pull off this upset and fulfill all your dreams and become the Bombshell’s champion.

Sadly for you, it will be utterly meaningless.

Winning a match by basically default means you received this gift. You in your heart and soul know you do not belong here. You do not deserve to stand across the ring from me and try to beat me. Much less trying to beat me for this championship.

As I said, change takes a while, but slowly, over time, you will get used to them. So what I want you to do Cassie, is explain this to all your friends. Savor your one big chance to be in the ring with the Bombshell’s champion, because quite frankly, you do not possess the skills or talent to ever do so again.

And I am going to see to it.

I will find the place for you, and it’s somewhere in the Roulette or maybe, just maybe the Internet division. You should never again even sniff at an opportunity for my championship. This is from what I remember, your first, and it should certainly be your last time in this position. You know this, I know this. Let’s not stand on ceremony and pretend that you have done anything worthy of being here.

You are wasting everyone’s time. Yours included. Because you don’t try to get better. You settle. You have at least the potential to be so much more than you really are, and yet, every time you are handed chances, you fail. Elimination chamber? Failure. Battle Royal? Failure. Please do not sit there and believe that because your last victory was against Seleana that it means anything. Defeating the absolute bottom of this division means zero. All it means is that you are a sentient being.

You’ve accomplished nothing. So much nothing that you were a fucking spectator at Violent Conduct. That is what you, a self-proclaimed “Wrestling Prodigy” was reduced to. You are nothing more than an extra body that this company throws out there from time to time just so that they can justify paying you.

And you have allowed that to happen.

Do you think that PTA gym or Hero Academy are proud of your laziness? Do you feel proud of your complacency? You should be apologizing to everyone and anyone who ever lifted a finger to try and train you because you are embarrassing them, and yourself by simply floating along and being nothing more than a body.

Maybe, just maybe it got through to you that you should take some goddamn initiative. You demanded a match, and you won. And for that, you deserve nothing but a pat on the back. And then maybe you can finally get the proper motivation to actually get better, so I don’t have to have this conversation with you. Because I’m telling you the truth. I’m telling you bluntly what others have probably, or should have if they were true friends, have hinted at for some time. I’m just relaying the message directly.

You. Are. Not. Good. Enough.

And really, I’m giving you too much credit by adding the “enough” at the end of those words. You are a sad sack, who will never amount to anything unless you make the drastic change, or embrace what I am offering.

But hey, you don’t have to.

You can do exactly what you’ve been doing all this time and float along aimlessly and assume that you will fall ass-backwards into matches like this. You can. The only thing that will happen is that you will find those opportunities will dry up. And once they dry up, you will continue to float along aimlessly and just be put into popcorn match after popcorn match because you didn’t actually make any progress.

You can stay on the hamster wheel forever if you like. You don’t have to listen to me. What do I know?

But here’s the other side, Cassie:

You actually hone your craft. You put your focus on the right place and then you can actually compete and actually make strides. And then you can proudly walk around with an Internet or Roulette championship belt and you can actually hold your head up with some kind of dignity and respect because you will have actually earned it. You can stop looking for praise from your trainers because they aren’t going to give it to you. Stop fighting for their approval, and approval of yourself.. You can actually be something more to your skillset and talent level.

Is it a ceiling? Yes, Cassie it is. But it is a ceiling for a reason. It shows you just how far you can go.

No more relying on dumb luck to get where you need to go or to get an opportunity you don’t deserve. Those days are over. You fit right there in that little bubble, and within that bubble, you can go nuts. Do all the things you want to do. It allows you to live your best life. You can do anything you want, inside that bubble. It is, in my opinion, the best way to use you. It works for you.

You can make an easy choice, Cassie. You can just do the same shit you’ve been doing and get the same results, which is none. You can continue to rest on the non-existent laurels you think you have. And just be another face in the crowd. Another name on the roster.

Or…

You can abandon what has gotten you to this point, and start anew. Do you really need the approval of people? Do you need your friends coddling you? Because it is those same people who have put you in the position you are in. You are only in this match because of dumb luck. After this? After you lose? You’ll be right back where you started. And those same people will hype you up once again. You’ll get right back on the hamster wheel and run run run until what? Because the days of falling ass-backwards into title matches are over. This is the last one.

And you’ll never earn another shot at anything without making a drastic change.

I can change you for the better. I will change you for the better, Cassie. You obviously want to live up to the ridiculous “Prodigy” standard, and although that’s just a nice pipe dream, you can still achieve a level of greatness on par with your abilities. I can do that for you. But this match? This match is to show you the level at which I have risen to, and it is one you will never achieve.

There is something there, Cassie. It’s not much, but it’s there.

And I can help you bring that something out of you. If you take my advice, that is.

But if you wish to be stubborn and hard-headed, you will suffer the consequences. I can scar you for life, Cassie. I can break bones, I can tear tendons and ligaments. I have had a few years of studying the human body and understanding how to manipulate it to where it causes you unimaginable pain. I can make you wish that you had never stepped into a ring at all. I can do all those things.

But I don’t want to.
So don’t make me.

I mean, did you know that most bones in the arm can break with only 100 pounds of pressure?
Science is super fun!

You want this.
You don’t deserve this
But you do need this.

Trust me.

Climax Control Archives / Gone Away

« Last post by Seleana Zdunich on October 03, 2025, 11:47:33 PM »

Off-Camera

Living Room
Home of Chiaki Sanada and Jane Harper
San Clemente, California
Friday, October 3, 2025
9:01 AM PDT

Seleana Zdunich was not happy at all and really hadn't been for months.

Her marriage had basically ended after seven years and she still did not really know why. Her wife, Christina, had attacked her and forced her into a match Seleana really did not want to take part in and then had made sure to attack her again alongside Mercedes Vargas.

After the incident in Sweden with Cassie Wolfe and Mercedes Vargas, Christina had not only remained silent on what had precipitated the whole thing but had then missed their anniversary. Seleana's sister, Zenna, had made sure to come from New Orleans to see how things really were. She'd gone home and come back again, having taken a job with SCW on the roster right next to her sister.

Zenna Zdunich: So, what now?

Seleana barely looks up.

Seleana Zdunich: I…

She shakes her head.

Seleana Zdunich: I don't know…

She looks up at Zenna, despair evident on her face.

Seleana Zdunich: I… just…

She trails off, desperately trying to find the words in any language.

Seleana Zdunich: Shenzi, how I do?

She looks up into her sister's eyes.

Seleana Zdunich: How I tell Aurora I no know how… do her…

She searches for the word she knows belongs here.

Seleana Zdunich: Quinceañera?

Zenna just looks at her sister with both confusion and concern.

Zenna Zdunich: You don't know?

Seleana shakes her head.

Seleana Zdunich: Christina keep saying she would plan. She know, but…

She shakes her head again and Zenna nods understandingly.

Zenna Zdunich: But she never get around to it?

Nearly completely losing it, Seleana nods.

Seleana Zdunich: I no know what do. Aurora has birthday next month. Big deal in their community. Elijah losing what little stability he have. Christina and Alex both leave, Alex try leave door open.

She squeezes her eyes shut to try and maintain what little composure she still had.

Seleana Zdunich: Car reminder of everything…

Zenna nods.

Zenna Zdunich: You never did seem to like that car.

Seleana sighs heavily.

Seleana Zdunich: It… nice…

As she falters and fumbles for words again, her sister simply nods as if everything exactly what she knew was coming.

Zenna Zdunich: But…?

Seleana sighs heavily.

Seleana Zdunich: It… too much?

Zenna cocks her head slightly.

Zenna Zdunich: Too fast? Too expensive? Too much gas?

Seleana sighs with a whimper.

Seleana Zdunich: Too Christina.

Zenna nods.

Zenna Zdunich: She bought it for you?

The elder Zdunich Sister nods sadly, tears starting to stream down her face.

Seleana Zdunich: Ja, it was her first big gift.

She shakes her head, the tears coming more forcefully now.

Seleana Zdunich: I no know what do with it.

Wiping at her eyes, Seleana tries to pull herself together with no success.

Seleana Zdunich: I cry just see it. I…

Zenna nods knowingly, understandingly yet again.

Zenna Zdunich: You cannot use but you cannot get rid of it either, can you?

Seleana sniffles twice and then shakes her head.

Seleana Zdunich: Nej.

Zenna nods slowly.

Zenna Zdunich: Then we need to find a storage type garage for it. It'll be safe but out of sight. As for the quinceañera, we have resources for that. Mary, Chavy, her sisters, Morgan, even Christina's sisters. We'll obviously have to consult Christina and, of course, we'll need to ask Aurora what she wants.

Seleana nods.

Seleana Zdunich: You good at mothering, Shenzi.

Zenna shrugs.

Zenna Zdunich: I had a good teacher.

Seleana nods, trying to smile weakly.

Seleana Zdunich: I need to get ready for the Bella match in Los Angeles area.

Zenna Zdunich: We call Mary for tips on where we stay there.

Seleana Zdunich: Tack, Shenzi.

Zenna smiles.

Zenna Zdunich: What are sisters for?

Climax Control Archives / High stakes, high risks of Liam's life on the line.

« Last post by Liam Davis on October 03, 2025, 11:45:09 PM »

Daytona Beach, Florida. Wednesday 24th September (Off-Camera)

It had been hard since the serial killers have been on the loose and today with the so many locations, for the first time, he had to go outside of the Orlando area to discover a whole new area, Daytona Beach. Apparently, there was videos of them doing things at a beach house that he needed to go and look at. It still gave him chills, especially after last time when he went out and he had even more death threat letters and e-mails from Rosie and Steven who were sick lovers that loved to kill people.

More so that they wanted to kill Liam so badly and Liam still couldn't figure out why, especially that there wasn't any reasons or even any signs for him to confirm anything. It was still a mystery to him. The beach house was always hired for something and Liam already had the discussions with the guy who always allowed people to rent things out. He asked for the records of the names of Rosie and Steven staying together.

They spotted it together and it had the room number listed as well. The guy gave Liam keys and he went on his way to investigate. First thing he saw was blood all across the front door area as Liam got his camera out. He shook his head, almost as if it was the same when he walked into the abandoned house before.

Liam Davis: “So this is just like the abandoned house I've been to in the beginning.”

With the almost same beginning, but there was something different, there was marks of chains being dragged in the beach sand and on the wooden deck front door area. He also saw bloodied windows which the landlord even got shocked on the situation, not really knowing what to do as Liam says this.

Liam Davis: “Don't worry, after the investigation, we as police officers will clean up everything for you. Here, take this money. Let me take care of everything here.

Liam pulled some money out of the pocket and gave to the landlord as he nods and went away for Liam to investigate. Liam gave the landlord money to get some new things for the beach house in case anything was damaged. But there was a lot more, he saw a hand print on the side of the beach house, one that had a massive handprint on it and stating help. Liam took pictures of everything from the outside, even the bloody footprints.

But there was a lot more to come as he uses the keys and walked in and he could barely hold his nose. So he puts on a mask as it was another smell of a dead body. Liam almost choked as it was a very strong smell.

Liam Davis: “Jesus Christ.”

As he says with a lot of face twitching with the horrid smell and then he opened the door to the bathroom and saw what he was smelling, a dead male body. He saw footprint marks and took pictures of them and the dead body. Liam went to touch to see if he could identity the person. He found a credit card which was shocking the serial killers would leave that there. That wasn't to be taken a picture of though as that's confidential information that Liam could be charge heavily for. He found also the driving licence of the young man as well.

Liam Davis: “OK so a young male victim, Callum Reeves. What did this guy do to get the treatment he did? Poor bastard.”

Liam shook his head, but there was also another strong smell, while it smelt of a dead body, it wasn't a human one. He sensed a strong smell from the cabinet as he opened it and stood right back, it was a black dog. Which shocked Liam even more when he discovered this.

Liam Davis: “When I thought I've seen everything, this is another level of dangerous. Killing animals? What is the deal here? Did the dog attack them or something to deserve that kind of treatment.”

It was clear Liam needed to put the human and animal bodies in body bags which it made Liam disgusted, especially that he loved dogs. He didn't like cats as he was allergic to them, that was very well known. That crushed Liam for a while, trying to shake off that he saw a dead dog. He knew he had to do very through clean when he's done the investigation. There was more to look as he hadn't seen the bedroom yet. He saw that there was chains than a rope this time on a metal chair.

Liam took pictures and then there was handcuffs he saw on the floor to take pictures of as well. He also saw something that smelt very much like petrol, but it turned out it wasn't petrol at all, although it came mighty close, it was gasoline and then there was blowtorch next to it as well as Liam shook his head and tried to find any evidence on if there was any dead bodies around, but there wasn't as Liam says this.

Liam Davis: “They must've either had plans to burn someone or they burned someone that they took the body to hide it. But why would they leave a dead male body and a dead dog in the beach house? Why didn't anyone come to stop these murders?”

It left more questions than answers as Liam scratched his head, but he also was very emotional about the dead dog that they were willing to go to the length of animals. But he saw something that matched very much of what happened to the dog, there was a blooded knife in the ring that saw the dog being stabbed many times and the evidence was the knife. Liam took pictures of the camera and he addresses it.

Liam Davis: “This is absolutely disgusting. Why would anyone want to kill an innocent dog? No wonder why there was animal paw prints.”

It made for the first time Liam cry and quite a lot as well due to his attachment to dogs, even donates a lot of money to dog charities as well. Liam crouched on the floor, breathing in and out, like crazy and he placed his hands on his head, in an emotional state of the situation he saw himself in a mode to want to let his anger out, but he wasn't booked for a match this week.

Liam Davis: “I feel sorry for the poor bastard whoever I'm facing in the ring next time I wrestle. He'll get every ounce of pain from this. I'm just going to leave because I can't handle this.”

Plus he was done with the investigation as he laid the bodies on the floor and took the keys with him to head back to the police station and got some black body bags, requesting to get cleaners from the police force as he went there to put the bodies of the dead person and the dead dog in the bag and took them out of the house as the officers and Liam continued cleaning along with the officers for three hours. Before they all headed back to the office to do some work.

---------------

WTF have I done to be in the High Stakes Tournament video diary. (On-Camera)

“Honestly, I don't deserve to be in this tournament after my piss poor efforts in the ring at the Supershow. I accept I got pinned for the title and move on from it. Not gonna make excuses like a whining cunt like Logan would've done as I got none. That's as simple as that and good on Vincent for pinning me and earning his worth and that's no lie whatsoever. No shit talk, nothing but pure respect, despite me not being pleased of you and Logan talking shit behind my back.

I don't know if my opponent for the week Aiden Reynolds does. I know you got a lot of buddies within the Wolfslayer gym and some you lost out of the whole thing. But we both do have something in common, we both lost the titles and we were both pinned for the titles at the Supershow. But I guess we also have another thing in common to lose to Logan, but technically I wasn't pinned by him.

I admire and respect what you've done in the ring and I don't know what you've been saying behind my back or anything on cowardly social media land that I prefer to say whatever I want to your face. Listen, I'm not going to trash you for losing to Carter, he's undoubtedly an excellent wrestler and one who has got one hell of a wrestling record.

But if there's something that really bothered me when we were in the bullshit overboard match that I shouldn't have been apart of as it goes against everything I do, how I was lazy for not responding to comments on people say. Listen, I find that shit uncreative and lazy because it means you couldn't find creative shit to say to people.

The reason I don't is because I'm a god damn police officer and if I cared about every single comment made about me, I would be out of a job because I was born and raised to be a guy who doesn't give time of the day to respond to everything negative about me. I'm a police officer that can actually take the hate. A lot of wrestlers would piss and moan about losses and for titles.

But the fact is Aiden, the title was a bonus to me, I didn't need the title to be honest, I needed to use weapons to let out some fucking aggression out, I needed to be a bastard that would show my serial killers that want my fucking head that they aren't going to mess with me and how scared I feel they would be if I blasted Logan and Vincent with weapons and got them feared.

The fact is I'm not going to pay any attention to comments that you said to Carter, he's not my opponent or the fact quite frankly, I'm not ready to face him. But I know I have to be with us being in this High Stakes Tournament which I only found out about hours before I got on camera to address you. I knew about facing you, but not the tournament itself.

So it gives us a chance to get an SCW World Title shot. That's cool, even though my goal is bigger, but I take opportunities when I get them, even if you say I don't deserve it, especially that I was the one pinned and you'd be right. I'm not going to argue with that because facts are facts. But what I want to do is batter and beat the living shit out of you.

Even if I respect you somewhat as a competitor, even if you'll talk shit about me to your friends behind my back. I know you're talented and took your eye off the ball with Logan. Not going to degrade you more than that other than beating the living hell out of you because to me, you don't look like a wolf wanting my blood and want to rip me in half. I'm that wolf who clearly does.

So go ahead, go and tell me that I'm undeserving and I don't have a place in this tournament, but I'm going to cause an upset and beat Aiden Reynolds, the guy that won the overboard match to get a world title match and lost. While I lost the Roulette title, but it will come down to who's the hungriest, who wants to be a champion more.

That goes to me that will do absolutely everything it takes to win because I want to be that guy that will advance in the tournament and face whoever is next lined up to me or however this tournament will go because I literally don't know. Just read up the winner will get a world title. I'm going to prove to you why you lost and should've stayed out of the tournament since you had a shot and you blew it. I haven't yet and even if I didn't win the Roulette title, it doesn't mean I can't be an SCW World Champion because I saw the bigger picture.

I'm going to unleash all of my anger towards you and beat you down for the three count and I won't give a shit on the damage I'll do to you. I won't give a shit if you moan and cry in pain because I'm going out all psycho on your Aussie ass because you need to be taken down a few pegs I think despite the respect I have for you as a wrestler and I will end you in the ring and advance in the tournament. See you out there Aiden Reynolds, but when that belt rings, I'll do everything to make sure you're in pain until I get that win. It's as simple as that.”

Climax Control Archives / ~~Rules of Engagement: Now I’m Gonna Be What You Wanted Me to Be.~~

« Last post by BellaMadison on October 03, 2025, 11:43:02 PM »

~*~Rules of Engagement: Now I’m Gonna Be What You Wanted Me to Be. Stupid mistake.~*~

The camera flickered to life, catching Bella Madison seated on the edge of a battered steel chair in the dim light of the arena’s backstage. She wasn’t dressed for battle, just in her own clothes, hair tied back, hands fidgeting with the tape she hadn’t bothered to wrap around her wrists yet. There was a weight in her posture, the kind of heaviness that doesn’t come from bruises or fatigue, but from absence. From waiting.

Bella lifted her head slowly, her eyes sharp, her voice quiet but cutting.

“It’s been far too long.”

She leaned forward, elbows digging into her knees, staring dead into the camera.

“Far too long since I’ve walked through that curtain and into that ring where I belong. Far too long since I’ve been able to remind anyone, remind myself, what I’m capable of. And for a while? I didn’t even know where to begin. Do I talk about the matches I should have had but didn’t? Do I talk about the time wasted, sitting on the sidelines while the world kept spinning? Or do I just...start here. Start now.”

She sat back in the chair, exhaling sharply through her nose, before shaking her head.

“The truth is, wrestling has never been fair to me. I’ve had to claw for every opportunity, bleed for every inch I’ve gained. And when you get forced out of the fight long enough, people forget. They move on. They find the next shiny new thing to cheer for or tear down, and Bella Madison? She fades into the background. Out of sight, out of mind.”

Her jaw tightened, eyes narrowing.

“But I don’t fade, I don’t break, I won't quit and the one thing everyone’s about to relearn really damn fast is that you don’t keep me buried. You can try, you can sideline me, you can overlook me, but eventually, I come back swinging. Harder. Meaner. And hungrier than ever before.”

She paused. A faint smirk curled at her lips, not of amusement, but of someone who had finally sharpened her edge.

“So tonight, I stop thinking about where I’ve been. I stop worrying about what I’ve missed. And I start proving all over again why I call myself the Hardcore Queen of SCW. Because you can throw me in the deepest pit, you can stack the odds as high as you want, and I’ll still crawl out, bloodied, bruised, and smiling. That’s who I am. That’s who I’ve always been.”

Her voice dropped low, steady.

“It’s been far too long. But I’m back and if you thought you’d seen the worst of me before? You haven’t seen anything yet.”

Bella leaned forward again, locking eyes with the lens, her final words carrying the promise of a storm.

“Let’s begin.”

She let the silence hang for a beat before speaking, her tone low and sharp.

“High Stakes.”

The words cut through like glass, her eyes never leaving the camera.

“I’ve been waiting for something like this for a long time, a chance to fight my way to the very top. To prove that all the hell I’ve put myself through, all the scars I’ve earned, weren’t for nothing. The road starts with Seleana Zdunich this week on Climax Control.”

Bella unfolded her arms, pacing slowly, her voice gathering heat with each step.

“Seleana, I’m not going to stand here and deny what you are. We all know that you’re resilient. You’ve been through storms inside and outside that ring, and every single time, you’ve found a way to get back up. That’s admirable, it’s gutsy. That’s the kind of fight that makes people respect you.”

She stopped pacing, her smirk flickering like a shadow.

“But respect? Respect isn’t enough to carry you past me.”

Bella jabbed a finger toward the camera, her voice cracking with intensity.

“We have all heard all about your personal drama, your baggage, the weight of the world you’ve been carrying around lately. And you know what? I don’t give a good goddamn. I’m not here to babysit your feelings. I’m not here to shoulder your struggles. I’m here to beat you. Because when that bell rings, none of that matters. Not the chaos outside the ring, not the pity party, not the excuses. All that matters is who walks out of that first round with their arm raised and that’s going to be me.”

Her breathing picked up as her voice deepened, carrying a steady growl of conviction.

“I am quite literally the Hardcore Queen of SCW for a reason. I’ve bled for this company, I’ve sacrificed my body time and time again, and I’m still standing here when plenty of others would’ve broken down and quit. Seleana, you can throw every ounce of your resiliency at me, but it won’t be enough. Because I’ve got something you don’t.”

Bella leaned closer, her eyes burning with fire.

“I’ve got nothing left to lose and everything to prove.”

She straightened up, brushing hair back from her face, her tone turning cold and final.

“This tournament? It’s not about survival. It’s about dominance. It’s about walking through every obstacle standing in my way until I get to Frankie Holliday and I take what should’ve been mine a long time ago. And if that means I have to tear you apart to start this journey, Seleana? Then that’s exactly what I’ll do.”

Bella tilted her head, her smirk returning like the twist of a knife.

“So bring me the ever resilient, battle-tested survivor version of yourself. Bring me every last ounce you’ve got left in the tank. Because I’m not just going to beat you, Seleana. I’m going to remind everyone exactly why Bella Madison refuses to stay in the shadows. This is my climb, my tournament, my destiny and you?”

Her eyes narrowed.

“You’re just the first casualty.”

“I’ve been sitting back for months now, watching people run their mouths. Watching certain....oh, let’s call them former champions....take their little shots, whisper about how Bella Madison isn’t cut out for this. That I’m not ‘enough of a bitch’ to pull something like this off.”

Her smirk widened, sharp and mocking.

“You’re right. I’m not a bitch. I’m the Hardcore Queen of SCW. There’s a difference. See, any loudmouth can be a bitch....it’s easy. All it takes is an attitude problem and a sharp tongue. But me? I apparently cannot state enough that I’ve bled for this. I’ve broken myself in half for this company. I’ve walked into matches designed to shorten careers and walked out smiling, because that’s what I do. So if the question is whether or not I’m nasty enough, cold enough, vicious enough to claw my way through this tournament?”

Bella snapped her fingers, the sound echoing sharp in the silence.

“Seleana, I guess you’re about to be the first person to find out.”

She leaned back in her chair, casual again, though the dangerous glint in her eyes betrayed the calm.

“Now don’t get me wrong, I know exactly who I’m dealing with. You are all these things I have already said and that’s cute. Really. But let’s not kid ourselves here. You’ve got a whole storm of personal drama dragging behind you in your personal life, and whether you like it or not, that slows you down. And I’m not the type to show up and pat you on the back for still trying....not anymore. I’m not here to cheer for you, Seleana. I’m now gonna be the one here to put you down, to step over you, and move one step closer to the World Bombshell Championship.”

She tilted her head, eyes narrowing into the camera.

“You’ve made a career out of surviving, Sel. But High Stakes? That’s not survival. It’s about being ruthless. It’s about being willing to destroy whoever’s across from you, no matter how much you respect them or how good their sob story sounds. And I don’t give a damn if that makes me a bitch in the eyes of all those people waiting for me to fail.”

Bella’s smirk returned, sharp as a knife.

“Because the truth is, I’m not here to be liked. I’m here to win. And if I have to get ugly, if I have to dig deep and show the side of myself that certain people think I don’t have? Oh, honey, believe me. I’ll show it. And you’re not gonna like what you see.”

She stood now, pacing a slow, deliberate circle, her voice rising with each step.

“Seleana Zdunich, we all know that you’re tough. You’ve been through and survived a lot. But when that bell rings, it is gonna mean absolutely fuck all and it isn’t going to save you. I’ve got nothing left to lose, everything to prove, and I’ll burn this entire tournament to the ground to get what I want. Frankie Holliday’s sitting pretty at the top of this mountain, but before I get to her? I get to be the one to unfortunately break you.”

Bella stopped dead in front of the camera, fire blazing in her eyes.

“And I will. Not because I’m enough of a bitch. But because I’m the Hardcore Queen of SCW and that means I’ll do whatever the hell it takes to get to the top.”

Her smirk curled into something darker, a promise.

“High Stakes starts with you, Sel. And come hell or high water...it ends with me standing in front of Frankie Holliday. Count on it.”

The screen faded to black on Bella’s wicked grin.

~*~True To You~*~

Bella sat at the kitchen table, staring at the bracket on her laptop screen. High Stakes. First round against Seleana. Endgame: a shot at Frankie Holliday’s World Championship. Her fingers drummed against the wood, restless, like she was already itching to fight.

“You’ve been different lately,” Malachi’s voice broke through, calm but edged. He leaned against the doorway, arms folded. “I thought, hell, I hoped, after the summer tour, you were thinking about stepping back. Maybe even...” He trailed off, and she didn’t need him to finish the thought. Another baby.

Bella let out a sharp laugh, bitter at the edges. “You really think now is the time for that? When our daughter is in full-blown terrible twos mode? When she’s climbing bookshelves like she’s prepping for a ladder match? I can barely keep up with her and keep my head above water with everything else. You wanna add midnight feedings back into the mix?”

Mal frowned. “I just thought...you wanted it too. You’ve said it before.”

“Of course I’ve said it before!” Bella shot back, her eyes flashing. “I do want it. But wanting it and being ready for it are two different things, Mal. Right now? I’m stretched thin enough. Máire needs me, I need me to remain sane and on top of all of it, I have a chance at something huge. Something I’ve really need, to grasp that I have an amazing chance to prove myself instead of getting random shots and then getting my ass kicked. I always hear people keep saying I’m not ruthless enough, how that I’m not a big enough of a bitch to grab that elusive top spot. That ends now. I am, come hell or high water, walking into High Stakes, and it starts with me walking through Seleana Zdunich without a second thought.”

Her voice cracked, not with weakness but with fury. “Don’t you get it? If I give this up now, if I step aside because life got complicated, that’s it. I’ll always be the girl who almost broke through. Almost. I can’t live with that and I won’t let Máire grow up watching me settle for almost.”

Malachi moved closer, softer now, but still trying. “And what about what it costs you, Bella? What does it costs us?”

She looked up at him then, eyes tired but burning with that stubborn fire he knew too well. “It’ll cost me everything if I don’t do this.”

Malachi stayed quiet for a beat, jaw tight, eyes fixed on her like he was weighing every word before he let it out. Finally, he exhaled through his nose and dragged a hand over his beard. “You don’t have to convince me of how much this means to you, mo gra. I’ve watched you fight through things that would’ve broken anyone else. Hell, you’ve put your body on the line more times than I can count and came back asking for more. You’ve got nothing left to prove to me.”

“That’s the problem,” Bella shot back, pushing away from the table, her chair scraping hard against the floor. “I’ve got everything to prove to everyone else. To Frankie. To Kayla. To Seleana. To the people in that locker room who look at me like I’m just riding on my mother’s name or my father’s legacy or that I’m too soft because I chose to be a wife and a mom. I need them to see me for what I am, Mal. I need them to see me.”

Her voice broke sharp on the words, defiant but almost desperate.

Mal moved toward her, but not to pull her close, not yet. His hands braced on the table, steady and grounding. “And at what cost? That’s all I’m asking you to think about. You’ve already been through ladder matches, brawls, things that left you bruised for days. I’ve been there to pick you up off the bathroom floor, Bella, when you could barely stand. You think I forgot that? I don’t.”

She looked away, swallowing hard. He wasn’t wrong. He was never wrong about that part.

“I’m not asking you to quit. I would never ask you to do that,” he went on, softer but unyielding. “But you’ve got to promise me something. That you won’t lose yourself chasing this. That you won’t tear yourself apart proving a point to people who’ll move on to the next rumor, the next name, the next story, without blinking.”

Finally, he stepped closer, his hand brushing her arm before resting gently at her elbow. Not holding her, not restraining her, just there. “You’re already enough, Bella. You don’t have to kill yourself to prove it.”

Bella’s throat tightened. For a second, she wanted to scream at him, shove him, and insist that he didn’t understand. But he did. That was the worst part, he understood better than anyone. And still, the fire inside her wouldn’t let her bend.

“Maybe I don’t,” she said quietly, her jaw set. “But I will anyway.”

The silence that followed was thick, a truce that wasn’t really a truce. Malachi didn’t press further, but the worry in his eyes lingered even as he gave her space. And Bella, for all her stubbornness, carried his words with her like an echo she couldn’t quite shake. The tension in the kitchen was sharp enough to cut until it broke with the sound of little feet slapping against the floor.

“Momma! Dada!”

Máire came running in, curls bouncing, arms full of stuffed animals that promptly tumbled as soon as she spotted her parents. She abandoned them without a second thought, throwing both arms up as if the world owed her a lift.

“Up!”

Bella’s frustration cracked into something softer. She bent down, scooping her daughter into her arms, breathing in the mix of baby shampoo and mischief that clung to her. Máire buried her face against Bella’s shoulder like she belonged nowhere else.

“You’re supposed to be in bed, missy,” Bella whispered.

“No bed!” the toddler declared, shaking her head hard enough to send curls flying.

Mal smirked, leaning against the counter. “That stubborn streak? That’s all you, love.”

Before Bella could retort, the familiar scrabble of claws echoed down the hall. A blur of fur tore into the kitchen. Luka. Their husky girl, wild-eyed and still carrying the same boundless energy she’d had since they first brought her home years ago. She skidded across the tile, paws scrambling for traction before she let out a sharp, excited howl.

“LUKA!” Máire squealed, wriggling in Bella’s arms, reaching for the dog.

The husky jumped up, front paws thumping against Bella’s thigh, tongue lolling, tail wagging with the force of a metronome.

“Down, Luka!” Bella snapped, though the corner of her mouth twitched with affection.

“Puppy!” Máire kicked her legs, desperate to get down.

Bella sighed and lowered her, keeping a watchful eye as Luka instantly bounded forward. But instead of knocking her over, the dog stopped dead still, lowering her head so Máire’s little arms could loop around her neck. Luka had been wild when they first brought her home, too much energy for most people, but with Máire, it was different. She stood patient, careful, protective, like she understood that this tiny human belonged to her too.

Máire giggled, hugging Luka like a big, furry stuffed animal. “Good puppy!”

Mal crouched down, rubbing Luka’s ears as her tail thumped against the floor. “There we go you chaos demon. I knew she’d settle down once she had someone to look after.”

Bella snorted, brushing curls back from her daughter’s face. “Settle down? Mal, this dog still tries to herd Alanah’s kids when they play in the yard.”

“Instinct,” Mal said with a grin. “Besides, Luka’s been with us longer than Máire has. She’s just making sure the kid grows up tough enough to keep up.”

Bella shook her head, but she couldn’t help smiling. Luka had been theirs before the sleepless nights, before the hospital trips, before Máire had turned their lives inside out. She’d howled at 3 a.m. when Bella was rocking a newborn, and had curled up at Bella’s side through nights of colic and exhaustion. Luka had been there through it all.

Now, watching her daughter wrap tiny arms around the husky’s neck, Bella’s chest swelled. Luka wasn’t just a dog. She was part of the chaos, part of the family, part of the reason Bella could still find a shred of sanity when everything else felt like it was pulling her in a thousand directions.

“You see this, Máire?” Bella murmured, kissing her daughter’s temple. “You’ve got your own guardian already.”

“Luka,” Máire said proudly, hugging the husky tighter.

Luka huffed as if in agreement, settling herself on the floor while still letting the toddler cling. Mal and Bella shared a look over the scene, the kind that carried all the words they didn’t say out loud.

The fight between them wasn’t over. It probably wouldn’t ever be over. But in moments like this, in the noise of laughter and barks, in the warmth of family wrapped in fur and curls, they remembered why they fought in the first place.