The MGM Grand Garden Arena sits like a lit-up jewel on the Vegas Strip. The sun has gone down almost the entire way. Traffic crawls. Cameras flash. SCW shirts and handmade signs bob through the sea of people flowing toward the doors, and even from outside you can feel it—there’s that specific buzz of a sold-out night where everybody’s a little dressed up and a little feral.
Inside, the arena is packed wall-to-wall—capacity crowd, sold out. The roar is immediate and constant. The lights sweep the bowl in slow, dramatic arcs as the opening stinger hits, and then white-hot fireworks crack above the entrance, spraying glittering sparks that fall like metallic confetti in the air. The crowd surges louder, a collective scream rolling around the building. Hanging from the rafters is a massive banner—bold, gleaming, impossible to miss—2026 in towering numbers, like the arena itself is ringing in the New Year.
At ringside, a six-sided ring sits centered and pristine, looking less like a battleground and more like a New Year’s celebration. The ropes shine under the lights, and the whole setup has been dressed for the occasion—silver and gold accents along the apron, metallic trim along the posts, and a subtle glitter sheen along the turnbuckle pads that catches every camera flash.
Inside the ring stands ring announcer Justin Decent, already owning the space like it’s his private stage. He’s dressed to announce and to sin a little while doing it, wearing a fitted black blazer with a deep, confident cut at the front and revealing just enough of his chest to qualify as a distraction. His slacks are tailored to the point of rude, his shoes are polished to a mirror shine, and the mic in his hand looks like it belongs there.
He waits for the noise to crest, then lifts the microphone with a grin you can hear before he even speaks.
Justin: Welcome to the SCW Universe, home in Las Vegas, Nevada, and the first event of 2026 … INCEPTION VIII!
The crowd detonates again!
Justin: Tonight, the lights are brighter, the stakes are higher, and the year starts the way it should! We’ve got TWELVE matches on deck, a sold-out MGM Grand Garden Arena, and a Vegas crowd that looks ready to start 2026 by losing its mind on live television!
He paces a half-step, shoulders squared, voice rolling smooth across the arena.
Justin: And if that isn’t enough, tonight marks history! Because for the first time ever, we will see a tag team match for the WORLD BOMBSHELL CHAMPIONSHIP!
That crowd erupts once more!
Justin: So now it is time to kick things off as only Sin City Wrestling can do! By welcoming SCW’s Hostess With the Mostess! MISSSSS AMANDA HUGGINKISS!
The music hits, and the arena reacts like they’ve been waiting all night for permission to lose it. Amanda steps out into the light and immediately looks like the living embodiment of “new year, new trouble.” Her outfit is pure Vegas glamour with just enough mischief to feel dangerous: a shimmering gold mini-dress, and over it a cropped silver jacket with structured shoulders and sparkling lapels. Her boots are knee-high and sleek, metallic white with gold detailing, and her hair is styled big and glossy, like it came with its own entrance music.
Amanda: Ohhh, Las Vegas! Look at you! Sold out, screaming, and dressed like you’re all auditioning to be my next bad decision!
The crowd laughs and roars, and Amanda tilts her head, scanning the front row like she’s shopping.
Amanda: Happy New Year, SCW Universe! Welcome to Inception VIII, where your resolutions go to die and your exes go to regret!
She leans forward a little, hand shading her eyes as she peers down toward the front row.
Amanda: Oh my god, wait. WAIT! Front row. You. Yes, you with the “KISS ME, I’M LUCKY” sign.
She points, and the camera finds a fan, and the building reacts instantly.
Amanda: Tell me right now, did you get your New Year’s Eve kiss? Or did you spend midnight doing what the rest of us did? By refreshing our texts and pretending we were “just checking the time”?
The crowd howls. Amanda makes an exaggerated concerned face, hand to chest.
Amanda: No, no, it’s okay! Because if you didn’t get a kiss, sweetheart, you’re in the right city. In Vegas, you can always rent one.
A wave of laughter rolls through the arena, and Amanda turns her gaze a few seats over, eyes catching on someone else.
Amanda: Oh! Hello. HELLO! Handsome. Front row, center, yes, you. The one sitting there like you’re the reason mirrors were invented.
The camera catches him, the crowd immediately “oooohs.”
Amanda: Okay, so here’s what we are not going to do. We are not going to sit there looking like that and act like it’s legal.
She puts a hand on her hip, playful and wicked.
Amanda: I don’t know if you’re here with a date, a buddy, or a court-appointed chaperone, but just so you know, if you keep smiling at me like that, I’m gonna make a resolution I can’t keep.
The crowd cheers louder, and Amanda laughs, basking in it, giving him a wink that could cause property damage.
Amanda: Alright, alright, behave! Save it for after the show. Or during the show. I’m not your mother!
She turns back to the hard camera, voice lifting, energy bright and commanding.
Amanda: Now, welcome everybody! Tonight is stacked! Tonight is historic! Tonight is the kind of night where anything can happen and usually does! And since this is Inception VIII, since this is the first SCW event of 2026, there’s only one way to start it properly!
She pauses, letting anticipation bloom.
Amanda: With a song.
The arena surges in excitement as the lights tighten on her, right at the moment before the first note of the opening performance.
Amanda: Darlings, it’s midnight. The ball dropped.
So did my standards.
I walked in like “New year, new me,” (ha!)
Same attitude, just glittery.
Resolution list? I tried my best
Then spilled a vodka on the rest.
I’m kissin’ strangers, bless this mess,
My lashes holdin’ on from ’25’s distress.
Vegas wind, my wig said “No,”
But baby, I’m booked, so let’s go!
Champagne pop, heels click-clack,
Text my ex? I take it back.
It’s 2026, I’m feelin’ rich
In audacity, not cash, you
It’s New Year’s GAY, we’re startin’ right,
With a sequined prayer and a messy night!
2026, I’m that girl, that queen, that vibe
I’m the reason your straight friend’s terrified!
New Year’s GAY, no time for shame,
I came to slay and mispronounce your name!
If your kiss was a flop, come stand in my light
It’s New Year’s GAY and the future’s bright!
My diet started at 12:01
Then I saw fries and said “Nevermind.”
I’m manifesting love and peace
And also tickets to VIP.
I sage my room, then hit the club,
Cleanse my aura with an extra shot of rum.
New year glow? It’s mostly spray,
And spite, served hot, any day.
I’m not late, I’m fashionably delayed,
Time is fake and so are men I’ve dated.
If you need a sign, here’s mine:
“Text him” crossed out, “Block him” underlined.
It’s New Year’s GAY, we’re startin’ right,
With a sequined prayer and a messy night!
2026, I’m that girl, that queen, that vibe
I’m the reason your straight friend’s terrified!
New Year’s GAY, no time for shame,
I came to slay and mispronounce your name!
If your kiss was a flop, come stand in my light
It’s New Year’s GAY and the future’s bright!
Now listen, if you’re entering 2026 still chasing someone who “isn’t ready”
Baby, neither is my glue, AND YET I COMMIT.
Choose yourself. Choose joy. Choose waterproof mascara.
Two-zero-two-six! (work!)
Two-zero-two-six! (swerve!)
If he says “we’ll see” (bye!)
If he says “u up?” (die!)
If he can’t match energy (next!)
If he can’t find the clit (TEXT!)
It’s New Year’s GAY, we’re startin’ right,
With a glitter bomb and a spotlight!
2026, I’m the headline, the host, the scream
I’m the plot twist in your wholesome dream!
New Year’s GAY, raise your glass,
To loving loud and looking class
If your kiss was a flop, come stand in my light
It’s New Year’s GAY and we’re takin’ the night!
Happy New Year, honey.
May your edges stay laid and your enemies stay confused.
Amanda’s performance hits its last punchline and final note like a glittery haymaker, and the MGM Grand Garden Arena responds exactly the way Vegas should—cheers erupting, applause rolling in waves!
Amanda stands center stage, basking in it with the smug satisfaction of a woman who knows she just ate and left no crumbs. She blows kisses aimed like little homing missiles into the crowd. Then she dips into a playful, over-the-top curtsy. She gives one last wink toward the front row and then, with a swirl of gold and attitude, she slips behind the curtains and vanishes backstage.
The camera cuts hard to ringside.
The broadcast table sits just outside the six-sided ring, dressed in sleek black with silver-and-gold accents that match the New Year’s theme. Monitors glow, headsets gleam, and the crowd noise is a constant, electric roar underneath everything. Belinda Simone and Erik Lunam are already locked in, headset mics poised, papers and tablets ready—but both of them are smiling like they can feel the night’s momentum in their bones.
Belinda Simone’s look is sharp and celebratory—fitted blazer with metallic detailing, hair immaculate, eyes bright like she’s already calling the match of the year. Erik Lunam sits beside her with that familiar intensity, jacket crisp, tie slightly loosened like he’s prepared to shout himself hoarse before the main event, hands clasped as the camera light hits them both.
Simone: Welcome, everyone, and HAPPY NEW YEAR! We are live in Las Vegas, Nevada, from the MGM Grand Garden Arena and this is Inception VIII, the first SCW event of 2026!
Lunam: Jaysus, would ye listen to the state of this place! Sold out, roarin’, and ready to tear the roof clean off—Sin City Wrestling has kicked the year open with a silver-and-gold boot, and we’re only gettin’ started, so we are!
Simone: Twelve matches tonight, a stacked card from top to bottom, and the kind of energy you only get when a new year starts with something to prove!
Lunam: This is the reset button, Belinda, d’ye know what I mean? New year, new momentum, and every soul in the back wants to be the first headline of 2026. And here in Vegas, ye don’t just win… ye make a moment of it!
Simone: And let’s not forget, we have history on the line tonight! The first-ever tag team match for the World Bombshell Championship!
Lunam: That alone would sell this arena out twice over! Ye can feel it in the air! Tonight’s goin’ to be loud, it’s goin’ to be wild, and it’s goin’ to set the tone for everythin’ SCW becomes in 2026—mark me words!
Simone: If you’re joining us at home, settle in because Inception VIII is officially underway, and the SCW Universe has shown up ready for a year to remember.
Lunam: Keep yer eyes open and yer heart rate steady—and welcome to the first big night of 2026, ’cause this one’s about to hit different, I’m tellin’ ye!
Simone: And we are kicking off Inception VIII with something that is equal parts punishment and spectacle! Cassie Wolfe versus Twisted Sister in the Twisted Sister Playhouse Match! General Manager Evelyn Hall has had it up to here with Cassie’s entitled attitude, the constant disrespect, and the way she’s treated SCW management like it exists to serve her ego! So tonight, Hall isn’t fining her, she isn’t warning her, she isn’t negotiating. She's locking her in a steel cage and handing Twisted Sister the keys to the toy box! Because inside that cage, it isn’t just steel and sweat! It’s a Playhouse full of “playthings” straight out of Twisted Sister’s warped imagination! Cassie’s about to find out the hard way that when you spend weeks running your mouth, eventually somebody makes you eat every last word!
Lunam: And if that opener doesn’t rattle yer teeth loose, strap yerself in—’cause next we’ve got a proper clash of lifestyles when SCW’s resident Party Boy Ryan Keys steps in there with the Angry Officer himself, Liam Davis! Keys is out here actin’ like every night’s Saturday and every problem can be laughed off with a wink and a good time, but Davis? He’s a walkin’ noise complaint with fists—short fuse, no patience, and a mission to “teach lessons!” Ryan wants to turn it into a party, but Liam’s comin’ to shut it down, flip the lights on, and drag somebody out by the collar! And I’m tellin’ ye, when those two collide, someone’s learnin’ the hard way ye can’t dance yer way out of a hidin’!
Simone: And after that, we pivot to pure Bombshell brilliance because this next match is a showcase of two of the brightest stars in the division as former World Champion Frankie Holliday goes one-on-one with Amelia Reynolds! Frankie’s been to the mountaintop and she knows exactly what it takes to carry the biggest prize in the company, but Amelia is the kind of rising talent that doesn’t just want a spot, she wants the spotlight, the statement, and the shortcut straight to the top! This is experience versus hunger, polish versus pressure, and the winner walks out of Inception VIII with the kind of momentum that makes the entire Bombshell roster start paying very close attention!
Lunam: And if ye came to Inception VIII hungry for chaos, steel, and somebody makin’ choices they’ll feel in their bones tomorrow, then settle in ’cause ye’re about to eat well! We’ve got a massive Hardcore Match as the self-proclaimed “Queen of Hardcore” Bella Madison steps into the danger zone with the former dominant World Champion, the “Dreamkiller” Kayla Richards! Bella talks like the division belongs to her, like pain’s a crown and every bruise is just another jewel, but Kayla Richards doesn’t give a toss about slogans! This is a woman who’s flattened careers with cold precision, wore the top prize like it was tailor-made, and thrives when the rules vanish and survival’s the only currency! Bella wants to prove she’s the baddest in the hardcore world, Kayla wants to remind everyone why she was the nightmare at the top, and when that bell rings, somebody’s learnin’ the difference between lovin’ violence and bein’ built for it!
Simone: And coming up next, we’ve got championship intensity with the Roulette Championship on the line! Because former champion Logan Hunter has waited long enough, and tonight he finally gets the opportunity to reclaim what he believes is his! Logan has carried that chip on his shoulder like it’s a second title belt, convinced the Roulette Championship didn’t get taken from him so much as it got stolen by circumstance, politics, or plain bad luck! And now he’s done being patient. But here’s the problem: standing in his way is the fearsome champion himself, Vincent Lyons Junior, a man who doesn’t just hold that championship, he wears it like a warning! Logan wants redemption, Vincent wants dominance, and when you put those two in the same ring with gold at stake, somebody’s story gets rewritten in a hurry!
Lunam: And now we’re into the kind of match that stops bein’ “about wrestlin’” and starts bein’ about settlin’ something nasty ’cause this is a Dog Collar Grudge Match between LJ Kasey and the one lad who reckons the locker room still belongs to him, “Bulldog” Bill Barnhart! It all began with a self-perceived slight Barnhart swears the younger crowd showed him, and instead of dealin’ with it like a pro, the Bulldog went lookin’ for a pound of flesh, brutalizin’ LJ and nearly puttin’ him out of commission! Now it’s past versus present, stubborn pride versus survival, and the only thing connectin’ them is a steel chain that turns every pull into pain and every step into a fight for air! Barnhart calls this his specialty, he’s lived in this kind of violence, and he thinks he can drag LJ into the deep end and drown him there. But LJ Kasey isn’t comin’ back for a lesson, he’s comin’ back for payback, and when that collar clicks shut, there’s no runnin’, no hidin’, and no mercy!
Simone: And next up, it’s championship stakes in the Bombshell division as the Bombshell Roulette Championship is on the line as reigning champion Alicia Lukas is stepping back into the fire after what happened at High Stakes XV! At the end of 2025, former champion Alexandra Calaway pushed Alicia to the absolute brink of defeat, taking her so close to losing that title you could practically hear the straps unfastening! Alicia didn’t walk away calling it “a hard-fought win.” She walked away furious. She walked away rattled. And she walked straight into management demanding a rematch, because champions who feel untouchable don’t do that … champions who know they barely escaped do. So tonight, Alicia puts her gold back on the line to prove that survival wasn’t luck while Calaway comes in believing she was one heartbeat away from taking what used to be hers, and this time she plans on finishing the job!
Lunam: And next, we’ve got a grudge match that’s goin’ to feel downright claustrophobic because “Unbreakable” Eddie Lyons is steppin’ into war with third-generation star Brayden Williams! Brayden made the biggest mistake of his career the second he opened his mouth and questioned Eddie’s work ethic! Ye do not call out the “Work Horse” of SCW and expect a polite response! Eddie answered by challengin’ Brayden to meet him inside the Lyons Den, where there’s nowhere to hide and barely room to breathe! This isn’t a match ye “escape”. The ring’s surrounded by lumberjacks and the only way it ends is submission, knockout, or the referee stoppin’ it to save someone from themselves! Brayden wanted to poke the reputation—well congrats, kid! Eddie just turned yer mouth into a contract, and now ye’re locked inside his kind of fight!
Simone: And coming up next, the Bombshell Internet Championship is on the line and this one is dripping with bad blood! The newly crowned champion Victoria Lyons didn’t just win that title, she took it with a shortcut that everyone in this building remembers! Victoria inserted herself into what was supposed to be a showdown between former champion Mercedes Vargas and Harper Mason, and she did it by launching a brutal backstage attack on Harper that left her compromised before she ever had a chance to fight fair! And it worked. Victoria walked out with the gold while Harper walked out with a debt to collect! Tonight, Harper is demanding retribution and she’s doing it with the championship on the line because the only thing worse than getting robbed is watching the thief parade around like they earned it!
Lunam: And now we shift to the Internet Championship, and this one isn’t just about gold—it’s about a betrayal that still tastes like poison! Reigning champion Miles Kasey defends against former multi-time champion and former friend Alex Jones! The bad blood between them goes right back to the moment Miles turned his back on Wolfslair, a choice Alex has never forgiven and never stopped talkin’ about! To Alex, that wasn’t a career move, it was treason, plain and simple! And ever since he’s been runnin’ his mouth, tearin’ down Miles’ character, his legacy, everything he’s built! But tonight, the talk ends, because when the bell rings and the title’s on the line, there’s nowhere to hide behind history! Either Miles proves he’s outgrown the past, or Alex turns revenge into a championship moment and makes Miles pay in the only language that matters: the three count!
Simone: And next, we are about to witness history in real time because for the first time ever, the World Bombshell Championship will be defended in tag team action! The reigning champion Crystal Caldwell isn’t just putting her title on the line tonight, she’s putting her entire world on the line! The champion is teaming with her Fire & Fury partner Mercedes Vargas to face a duo with more personal stakes than any contender’s ranking could ever match! Crystal’s own wife, Seleana Zdunich, and Crystal’s sister-in-law, Zenna Zdunich! Think about what that means! Championship pressure colliding with family bonds, loyalty tested in every exchange, and no matter who wins, somebody goes home with the title, and somebody goes home with scars you can’t tape up! This is Fire & Fury versus blood and vows, and when the World Bombshell Championship is the prize in a family affair like this, it’s not just a match, it’s a collision!
Lunam: And now we’ve arrived at the main event of Inception VIII, and this is a World Heavyweight Championship match months in the makin’! An obsession turned into a nightmare that finally has nowhere left to run! Ever since his return, Alexander Raven has set his twisted sights on Helluva Bottom Carter and the championship belt around his waist, and he didn’t just chase it, he stole it—literally—takin’ the title and hangin’ onto it for weeks like a trophy ripped from Carter’s life! Raven’s lived in Carter’s head, haunted his steps, and then proved he could hurt him in the ring too, snaggin’ a non-title victory that only fed the delusion that destiny belongs to him! Tonight, he gets what he’s wanted—Carter, the gold, and the chance to make his obsession official! But here’s the real question: can the champion be a hundred percent locked in when his world’s already been shaken? Carter was the victim of a stalker attack that put him in hospital, and it could’ve been far, far worse—and Raven is exactly the kind of predator who smells distraction like blood in the water! Carter has to defend his title, his pride, and maybe his peace of mind—because when that bell rings, it’s not just about who’s the better wrestler… it’s about who survives the darkness Raven dragged into 2026!
Simone: All this and more on SCW Inception VIII!
The crowd swells again as General Manager Evelyn Hall steps out onto the stage with her usual smile. She pauses at the top of the ramp, soaking in the noise, then gives a polite wave, composed, warm, and very “I run this place.”
Lunam: There she is, General Manager Evelyn Hall. And she’s not out here to take selfies, I can promise you that.
Simone: Yeah, this is “boss walk.” The smile is nice, but it’s the kind of nice that usually comes right before your whole night changes.
Evelyn Hall: Las Vegas! Welcome to Inception VIII!
The arena roars. Evelyn nods appreciatively, pacing a step or two, letting the chant breathe before lifting the mic again.
Evelyn Hall: Thank you. Thank you. It feels good to be here tonight because I am very pleased to tell you I have two very special announcements.
Simone: Two? Oh, I don’t like when authority figures say “two announcements.” One announcement is fine. Two announcements is how you end up with paperwork.
Lunam: Or how you end up with somebody in tears and somebody else fired out of a cannon.
Evelyn Hall: First, I want you all to know something. Sin City Wrestling is going to grow bigger and better in 2026.
The crowd cheers again, some surprised, some already buzzing like they’ve heard whispers.
Evelyn Hall: And to prove it, I’m casting off the territorial shackles that have kept SCW in check over the past fifteen years.
Simone: Territorial shackles, okay, hang on. What does that mean? Because that sounds like the kind of sentence that ends with “and now you’re all coming to work on Sundays.”
Lunam: It’s either the most dramatic way to say “new tour dates,” or we’re about to witness the birth of Chaos: The World Tour.
Evelyn Hall: It means this. SCW is no longer restrained to just three or four states with the two odd tours each year.
The crowd noise rises with every clause. Evelyn’s grin widens, like she’s enjoying the slow realization rolling through the building.
Evelyn Hall: Sin City Wrestling is a worldwide phenomenon and from this moment on, I’m going to treat it as such.
Simone: Ohhh. Okay. That’s what she means. That’s a big sentence. That’s a big promise.
Lunam: Worldwide. That’s not a wee tweak, that’s a declaration.
Evelyn Hall: So here’s what happens next. Beginning this coming cycle, there will be no limits to where SCW tours.
The crowd explodes, a wall of sound that makes the hard camera shake just a touch.
Evelyn Hall: Beginning in Reno, Nevada, then to California, then we venture to Washington State…
Each location pops the crowd like a drumbeat.
Evelyn Hall: …culminating in Blaze of Glory XV in Fort Worth, Texas on March 8!
The building erupts. A few fans throw their hands up like they’ve just been told Christmas is coming twice.
Simone: Fort Worth on March 8! Blaze of Glory XV. That’s not just a destination, that’s a target.
Lunam: She’s drawing a line on the map and daring everyone to follow. I love it.
Evelyn Hall: And don’t worry, SCW will still hold our very special tours. We will travel all across the country and Canada.
Another surge of cheers, louder at the mention of Canada.
Evelyn Hall: …so be ready. Because 2026 is going to be bigger, louder, and better than anything we’ve ever done before.
The crowd cheers again, sustained and thunderous. Evelyn gives them one more polite wave, equal parts gracious and final, then turns and heads back up the ramp.
Simone: That’s the kind of announcement that changes locker rooms. That’s the kind of announcement that changes careers.
Lunam: Worldwide, Simone. No limits. And if you’re a champion tonight, you’ve just been told your name could be defended anywhere on this planet.
Evelyn slips back through the curtains as the tron returns to INCEPTION VIII graphics, and the arena hums with that special electricity, like everyone just felt the future kick the door open.
The scene opens backstage at Inception VIII where we see Cassie Wolfe warming up ahead of her opening contest against Twisted Sister.
Cassie: Left off the penultimate show of the year, then almost left off the final show of the year until I made my voice heard, and now I’m being punished because I’m the only one calling out the high ups on their bullshit?!
Cassie scoffs,
Cassie: Christian says that I’ve been acting entitled? Please, he’s just mad that his precious plans are being questioned by someone on the rise who’s refusing to just tow the company line! First I had that Hardcore Match against Kayla and now this demented match against Twisted Sister?
Cassie shakes her head.
Cassie: He can try to silence me all he wants but when I beat Twisted Sister at her own demented game? It won’t matter because I’ll make sure he can’t deny me any further!
Cassie walks off as the scene fades.
Lunam: Well, Belinda, we have a rather interesting match to open Inception VIII. It appears that this match consists of Cassie Wolfe and Twisted Sister having to get the Pinfall or Submission inside of a cage. There is no way out for Cassie or Twisted Sister except for a Pinfall or Submission.
Simone: Add to the match the fact that inside the cage both have to avoid elimination is to have their opponent take them out by pinfall or submission. But . . .and this is a big but. . .there are items inside the cage for the wrestlers to use. Some of the items I saw while they were setting up the ring for this opening match were items such as broken toys, a toy box, chains, jagged boards, and a barbed-wire wrapped terror of a baseball b Twisted Sister enjoys using in a match.
Lunam: I wonder how Cassie is feeling going into this match since we know the background with her.
Simone: Well, Erik, the saying goes that a person needs to be careful what they wish for as they might just get it. The fact that Cassie ran her mouth over and over and over she is not in a brutal Twisted Sister Playhouse Match and Twisted Sister has promised she is going to end the whining everyone has been hearing from Cassie Wolfe.
Justin: Welcome to our first match of the evening and what a match it is! To open this edition of Inception VIII the first match pits Cassie Wolfe against Twisted Sister in a Twisted Sister Playhouse Match. The two participants will be fighting inside of a Cage and the only way to win is by pinfall or submission against your opponent as there is no disqualification so the win must be obtained by making your opponent submit by Pinfall or Submission. First to make her way to the ring, she is currently from Reno, Nevada, she comes into this match at five feet three inches and one hundred eighteen pounds, please give a great Las Vegas, Nevada, welcome to THE REBEL PRINCESS Cassie Wolfe!
The opening riff of WOLF WITHIN hits the speakers and once the lyrics kick in Cassie Wolfe emerges from the back excited to start the match, with her hands on her leather jacket’s sides the rookie wrestler turns her back to the crowd. Cassie spins around flashing the metal horns sign with her left hand and clapping the hands of fans with the other. When Cassie reaches the ring she jumps onto the apron before giving her hair a full flip and removing her jacket to give to a stagehand. Then Cassie jumps over the top rope and into the ring, rolling to her knees and basking in the moment. After posing for the fans for a time Cassie moves to one of the corners to await the arrival of her opponent Twisted Sister.
Lunam: Nice entrance on the part of Cassie as she is full of confidence.
Simone: Confidence does not always translate into a win in the sport of wrestling.
Lunam: Uh, Belinda, do you think Cassie appears to have put on a bit of weight recently?
Simone: Did you not know that talking about the weight a woman is carrying is a taboo subject? Even if you are disrespecting Cassie the rule is still in place.
Lunam: Sorry. I was just airing my observation.
Justin: The next wrestler to enter the ring, she is from parts unknown, she comes into this match at an undisclosed height and weight, she is headed down the ramp accompanied by her her partner and friend Iron Maiden, please give a great welcome for TWISTED SISTER!!!
Hollywood Undead's DAY OF THE DEAD begins to play and the crowd hushes as they turn their attention towards the stage. Twisted Sister and her often tag team partner Iron Maiden make their way down the ramp to the ring. The curtains fly open and the first to appear is Doctor Kraven Moorehead, escorting none other than Anthrax who is riding -- a child's tricycle!? And HE is pulling behind him, riding in a little red wagon, the violently psychotic tandem of the Iron Maiden and Twisted Sister, known collectively as Heavy Metal Mania. The fans stare with wide eyed awe at these lunatics as they arrive at ringside. The two women shriek at the top of their lungs and laugh as they arrive at the ring and Twisted Sister gets up on the ring apron and she plays the crowd. After those attending her to the ring Twisted Sister enters the ring and makes some threatening moves and gestures toward Cassie Wolfe.
Referee Jacob Summers walks to the center of the ring and motions for Cassie Wolfe and Twisted Sister to join him there. Summers informs the two that this match can only be won by pinfall or submission wrestling inside of a steel cage. There is no way to get out of the cage and the match except for submission or pinfall and once they are locked into the cage the cage will remain locked until the match is determined to be over. Since there is not a lot more that Referee Summers can discuss due to the rules, or lack of rules, he backs off and turns the two wrestlers over to two ring attendants who will be the ones to put them in the cage and lock it and when they are done Referee Summers will call for the bell to officially start this match.
Simone: I feel this is going to be an extremely difficult and brutal match for Cassie Wolfe to endure.
Lunam: No way to know for sure Belinda but we can be assured this is going to be a brutal match.
When the wrestlers have entered the cage and the door has been locked Referee Summers motions to the Timekeeper to ring the bell to officially start this match.
DING DING DING!
Now that the cage is locked, with both Cassie Wolfe and Twisted Sister locked inside the cage with each other, and the Timekeeper just rang the bell that signals the official start of this match, the look on the face of Cassie when she sees Twisted Sister with a huge sinister grin on her face headed at her, Cassie takes off in a run away from Twisted Sister to try to get away from her to figure out what strategy she should use in this match. The problem is there is only so much room available to move away from an oncoming opponent.
Simone: I find it amusing that Cassie immediately backed down from Twisted Sister once she heard the bell from the Timekeeper ring. Reality sets in quickly when that happens and more so when you are in this type of Twisted Playhouse match. Maybe Cassie forgot that the both of them are locked inside the cage and that the only way out for both of them is when one of the two wrestlers win this match. Knowing how Twisted Sister is she is the likely one to end up winning this match.
Lunam: Now there you go again Belinda! Right away you make the assumption that since this type of match favors a violent natured wrestler like Twisted Sister that Cassie will automatically lose this match to her. Remember there are only two ways for a wrestler to win this match and that is by by legitimate pinfall or by submission. Honestly I feel the match can go either way.
Cassie has backed up until she is unable to move as her back is against the cage. Cassie watches as Twisted Sister charges at her waving a wooden baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire. Cassie looks left and right trying to find the direction that might give her the best route to get away from Twisted Sister. As Twisted Sister charges at Cassie while swinging the barbed wire wrapped baseball when she gets close to Cassie she swings the bat hard trying to hit Wolfe with a body shot to cause damage with the bat and barbed wire. However the moment Twisted Sister starts to wring the bat at Cassie we watch Wolfe dive under the swinging barbed wire baseball bat and through the legs of Twisted Sister. Although Cassie escaped receiving major damage she did get some cuts on her from the barbed wire wrapped around the bat.
Simone: I will have to admit that Cassie was very lucky to duck under the barbed wire baseball bat but she did receive some damage so that will be something that sticks in her mind during the remainder of the match.
Lunam: I believe Cassie trained hard for this match knowing that anything can happen. We will observe this match until the final call.
We can tell by the look in Twisted Sister’s face that she is upset she did not get a direct hit on Cassie with the barbed wire laced baseball bat. As Twisted Sister charges at Cassie again Wolfe manages to snag the baseball bat out of the hands of Twisted Sister then Wolfe runs to the other side of the Playhouse and she manages to damage the baseball bat to where it pretty much useless now sitting in several pieces. The destruction of her barbed wire baseball bat has Twisted Sister getting extremely fired up now. While Cassie is laughing at breaking the baseball bat belonging to Twisted Sister we watch as Wolfe takes her eyes off of Twisted Sister to boast at what she accomplished Twisted Sister takes advantage of the distraction of Cassie. With Wolfe distracted Twisted Sister lowers her head and shoulder and then like a highly accomplished Football player she drive her shoulder into the chest of Cassie and her head into the midsection of Wolfe and this drives Cassie into the Broken Box Of Toys. Cassie appears to be nearly knocked out by the blow delivered by Twisted Sister.
Simone: It appears that Cassie is not going to recover from that devasting blow Twisted Sister just delivered to Cassie.
Lunam: You should never assume that a match is over until it is officially over.
Twisted Sister drags Cassie Wolfe to her feet and then she whips her into the side of the Playhouse and the blow causes Cassie to drop to the floor. As Twisted sister is maneuvering Cassie to her feet to deliver another blow Cassie comes up with her head hard and lands her head into the groin of Twisted Sister hard enough that Twisted Sister releases her hold on Cassie and then she drops to her knees to try to massage the pain out of her groin.
Lunam: I thought only men got knocked out by a blow to the groin.
Simone: Nope. Happens to us women also.
Both Twisted Sister and Cassie are slow to move about as both have received damaging blows during the match and both have slowed down a bit. As the two of them manage to make their way to their feet and try to regain their balance they start trading blows. Currently they are about even in the amount, and intensity, of the blows they are delivering on each other and both appear to be slowing down in their movements. Twisted Sister reached into a box of various lengths of chain and jewelry and she drags items out and wraps her hand with them and she begins punching Cassie and dragging the jewelry items across the skin of Cassie. When Twisted Sister reaches back to launch a heavy punch to Cassie we see Wolfe duck the punch and again she drops to the feet of Twisted Sister and again she lands several extremely hard blows to the groin of Twisted Sister.
Lunam: Both want to win this match and get it over with.
Simone: Yep.
It appears, by the look on the face and in the eyes of Cassie Wolfe that she has had enough of this match and she wants to end it. That, of course, will be an easier thing to state than to actually accomplish it. The two manage to get to their feed and continue trading blows, punches, kicks, and other maneuvers, to try to get the other to submit. At this point we see Cassie Wolfe reach into her wrestling outfit and pull and item out of her attire. The item appears to be some sort of a doll but we are not yet able to tell what the doll might be. As we are trying to figure it out we get a camera shot of the doll and we are surprised to see that it is a Chucky The Doll from Childs Play. As soon as Twisted Sister sees the Chucky Doll her face lights up but, but before Twisted Sister can take the doll away from Cassie we watch at Wolfe swings the Chucky Doll and whacks Twisted Sister on the side of the head. She does this several more times and each time the whack of the Chucky The Doll on the head of Twisted Sister takes a toll. Although Twisted Sister is not out of action yet she is getting close to that level. Cassie Wolfe whips Twisted Sister into the cage walls of the Playhouse several times. Then Cassie places a metal pipe into the hands of Chucky The Doll and wraps the arms of Chucky around the neck of Twisted Sister to where the pipe Chucky is holding against the throat of Twisted Sister and Cassie is pulling back on the arms of the Chucky doll to ensure the pipe remains against the throat of Twisted Sister. Referee Summers steps in and checks to see if Twisted Sister is still alert. He determines that she is still alert but barely so Cassie cinched up on the arms of Chucky to bring more pressure to the pipe digging into the neck of Twisted Sister. Although she struggles hard Twisted Sister cannot get out of the hold so Referee Jacob Summers asks if she wants to submit she reluctantly submits to avoid permanent damage and Referee Summers calls for the bell from the Timekeeper.
DING DING DING!
Referee Summers orders Cassie Wolfe to break the hold she has on Twisted Sister and she does. The attendants at ringside open the Playhouse and Cassie exits to the arena floor. Referee Summers has Cassie stand next to him and she does.
Justin: Ladies and Gentlemen the official decision in this match, by Referee Jacob Summers, is that the winner of this match, by submission, is THE REBEL PRINCESS CASSIE WOLFE!!!
Simone: I honestly did not think Cassie was going to pull off a win in this match.
Lunam: Although I was rooting for Cassie I have to admit that I was not sure if she could pull off the win against Twisted Sister.
Cassie walks around the ring to thank each section of the fans in the stands before she exits the ring and returns into the backstage area. When the camera shot returns to the ring we see Twisted Sister exiting the Playhouse Match and she exiting the ring and heading up the ramp to return to the backstage area. We can tell that Twisted Sister is not happy with the results of this match but we are sure she is likely to demand another match against Cassie Wolfe in the near future.
Ryan Keys doesn’t exactly sneak into the building.
Not in that outfit.
He barely makes it past the first production door before someone does a double-take. Then another. A stagehand slows, looks again, then laughs under his breath and shakes his head. Ryan just points at him like, yeah, you saw that right, and keeps walking.
A few steps later, he gets a quick, “Hey, Ryan,” from someone hauling cables. He answers it with an easy wave. Someone else down the hall gets a two-finger salute. Another gets a grin and a nod. It’s not loud, not a scene, just a steady trail of small, casual hellos as he moves through the corridor like he belongs there.
Dark pants. Polished boots. The fitted vest. The hat is sitting just right. Gloves tucked into his back pocket like they’re part of the look instead of a prop.
He catches his reflection in a blacked-out monitor and smirks, adjusting the brim of the hat.
More heads turn. Someone looks like they’re about to ask a question, then decides against it. Ryan just keeps moving, comfortable in the attention without chasing it.
He spots Ms. Rocky Mountains near one of the equipment cases and makes a slight detour.
She notices him immediately, looks him up and down in one long, slow scan, and then blinks.
Ms. Rocky Mountains: Oh, we’re doing this today?
Ryan spreads his arms a little, like he’s presenting the outfit.
Ryan: New year. New vibes.
She tilts her head.
Ms. Rocky Mountains: You know half the building is gonna think you’re real security, right?
Ryan just grins.
Ryan: Hey, it’s Vegas. People are in costumes all the time.
She snorts.
Ms. Rocky Mountains: That is not how that works.
Ryan: That explains a lot about this place, actually.
They share a look, easy, familiar, comfortable, while the noise of the hallway just kind of rolls around them. Ryan adjusts the brim of the hat and shrugs.
Ryan: I dunno. Last year was a lot. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been having a blast the whole time. This year? I just wanna lean into it even more. Enjoy the ride.
Ms. Rocky Mountains: And the wrestling part?”
He smiles, but there’s something a little more grounded in it.
Ryan: That’s the fun part too. It’s getting harder out there. Everyone’s good. Everyone’s hungry. But my stuff’s landing. The risks are starting to pay off.
Not a promo. Not a boast. Just a statement. Ryan glances down the hallway, then back at Rocky, a little grin creeping in.
Ryan: Actually… I should go find Liam.
Ms. Rocky Mountains: Oh no, absolutely not.
Ryan: Oh yes, I need a serious opinion.
Ms. Rocky Mountains: That’s not the man for that.
Ryan: Exactly why he’s perfect.
He points down the hall and starts walking backward for a few steps.
Ryan: If I don’t come back, tell my story.
Ms. Rocky Mountains: You’re unbearable.
Ryan: Yet beloved.
He turns and heads off, still drawing looks, still pointing and waving at crew members like he owns the place, moving with the easy confidence of a guy who’s found his rhythm and is having a lot of fun seeing how far he can push it.
Simone: Welcome back to Inception VIII and our first male contest of the evening! Both Liam Davis and Ryan Keys have suffered setbacks of late and tonight they get a chance to bounce back as they face off one on one!
Lunam: Both men have been impressive since their debuts with Liam even winning Future Star of the Year at High Stakes and this match can help them both get back on track!
Simone: This should be a good match! Let’s take it to Justin!
Justin: The following contest is scheduled for one fall!
The arena goes dark, then bursts alive with flashing neon strobes. As “I’m Made of Wax, Larry, ” hits, Ryan Keys explodes onto the stage with infectious energy. He spreads his arms wide, sunglasses glinting, before jogging side-to-side to pump the crowd. Ryan points to the fans, slaps hands down the ramp, and slides dramatically into the ring. He leaps onto the turnbuckle, tossing his shades into the crowd before striking a playful pose. With a grin and a wink, Ryan hops down, bouncing on his feet, ready to turn the match into his dance floor.
Justin: Introducing first, from Las Vegas, Nevada, weighing TWO!TWO!FIVE!ibs, “The Life of the Party” RYAN KEYS!
Simone: Ryan Keys returned to SCW after a long time away last year and this is his chance to earn a big win to kick off the year.
Lunam: But Liam is not going to make this easy!
Justin: And his opponent!
Breaking The Law by Judas Priest plays over the sound system as Liam Davis, wearing Police Shield Chest protector and a black shirt with black trousers and black boots, also wearing gloves and elbow pads stamping his feet with his nightstick and handcuffs in his pocket. He stamps his feet, shaking his whole body about to the ring.
Justin: From Orlando, Florida, he is Order Of Authority, Liam Davis!
Liam slides in the ring and holds up his nightstick to the fans. After he did that, Liam gives the weapons of his nightstick and the handcuffs to the ringside announcer before going in the ring again and pumps his fists in the air before standing in the middle of the ring.
Simone: Liam looks ready for action tonight!
Lunam: When hasn’t he?
Dawn goes over the rules with men before she calls for the bell.
Simone: And this match is underway!
Lunam: This will be good!
DING DING DING!
Once the bell rings the two men start circling around each other before Ryan and Liam lock up in the middle of the ring, Ryan takes the early advantage by hitting Liam with an arm drag and Liam scrambles to his feet only to get hit with a dropkick sending him stumbling back against the ring ropes! Ryan follows that up with a couple of forearms to the chin before whipping him across the ring but Liam puts on the breaks when Ryan goes for another dropkick!
Simone: Liam hasn’t been wrestling for long but that was good instincts on his part!
Lunam: And bad for Ryan!
Liam then hits Ryan with an Elbow Drop before going for the first pin of the match!
ONE!
TWO!
And Ryan kicks out! Liam shakes his head before he picks up Ryan and sets him up for a Suplex, however Ryan manages to slip out the back of the Suplex attempt and hits a Russian Leg Sweep before following that up with a Standing Moonsault! Ryan goes for his first pin of the match!
ONE!
TWO!
And Liam kicks out.
Simone: Ryan and Liam have both exchanged pin attempts and they are keeping the pace up in the early going!
Lunam: We’ll see if they can keep it up for the whole match!
Ryan picks up Liam but the former cop knocks the wind out of Ryan with a knee lift to the mid-section before Liam backs up the Las Vegas native to the nearest corner where he fires some more shots to Ryan’s mid-section before propping Ryan on the top rope! Liam follows him up but Ryan counters with a headbutt to the nose that knocks Liam down and Liam checks to see if his nose is broken! It isn’t but Ryan follows that up with a top rope flying clothesline!
Simone: And now they are going back and forth!
Lunam: But Liam’s not letting Ryan capitalize on that clothesline, he’s rolling out of the ring instead.
Ryan goes to follow Liam out the ring but Dawn stops him so Liam can get a chance to regain his bearings while she applies the ten count! At the count of five Dawn leans in between the top and middle rope to try to get Liam back in the ring and Ryan takes his chance, leaping clean over Dawn and nailing Liam with a Suicide Dive to the outside! Dawn quickly recovers from the shock and restarts her count while Ryan and Liam regain their bearings on the outside.
Simone: You’re never safe of the outside while against a high flying wrestler like Ryan!
Lunam: As Liam just found out the hard way!
Ryan gets up to his feet first and he rolls Liam back into the ring before following him in and going for a pin!
ONE!
TWO!
And Liam gets the shoulder up! Ryan shakes his head before heading to the top rope and going for another moonsault, this time from the top rope! However when Ryan goes for the move Liam rolls out of the way causing Ryan to crash and burn! Liam gets to his feet, powers Ryan up and hits a Brainbuster on Ryan! Liam floats over to go for a pin attempt as Dawn slides into position to make the count.
ONE!
TWO!
And Ryan kicks out! But Liam then shifts gears by locking in an STF!
Simone: And now Liam’s slowed down the pace with that submission hold!
Lunam: Can Ryan get out of it?
Dawn gets into position to check on Ryan as Liam cranks up the pressure on the STF but the party animal refuses to give up the match this easily as he starts crawling his way to the ring ropes so he can try to force the rope break! Liam tries everything he can to stop Ryan in his tracks but Ryan’s stubbornness pays off big time as he reaches the ring ropes and forces the rope break! Liam drags Ryan back to the centre of the ring to try for another move but Ryan catches him with a Small Package!
ONE!
TWO!
And Liam kicks out! Both man get back to their feet but Liam rocks Ryan with a forearm to the jaw before hitting him with a Discuss Lariat and going for a pin!
ONE!
TWO!
And Ryan kicks out!
Simone: We’re pretty deep into the match but neither Ryan or Liam are letting up!
Lunam: But I think Liam’s ready to end this!
Liam goes for the Double Underhook DDT but Ryan reverses out of it and hits a Ripcord Knee Strike!
Simone: And Ryan has just Shut It Down!
Lunam: Stick a fork in Liam, he’s done!
Ryan goes for the pin!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!!!!!!!!
DING DING DING!
Justin: Here’s your winner, “The Life of the Party” RYAN KEYS!
Simone: Ryan kicks off the new year with a huge win!
Lunam: And it’s back to the drawing board for Liam!
Ryan celebrates his win while Dawn checks on Liam.
The show opens on the backstage hallway, wide, bright, and buzzing with pre-show chaos. Crew members in headsets stride past with clipboards and coiled cables. A production assistant jogs by with a laminated run-sheet. Somewhere off-camera, a ring bell test dings once, followed by the muffled thump of entrance music being sound-checked. The MGM Grand Garden Arena is alive on the other side of the walls, a constant rumble like distant thunder.
At the far end of the corridor, the door to the staff parking garage swings open.
The sound of the arena rushes in for a split second, then the camera catches them as they step through, the three-time Couple of the Year.
World Heavyweight Champion Helluva Bottom Carter walks in first, travel hoodie unzipped. Right beside him is the reigning Internet Champion, Miles Kasey, rolling a suitcase one-handed like he’s done it a thousand times and still somehow making it look cool. Both of them wheel their luggage behind them, the suitcase wheels clicking lightly against the concrete as they cross the threshold from the garage into the bright backstage corridor.
But the real energy hits a half-step behind them.
Kevin Chapman bursts into frame like a firework, eyes wide, jaw dropped, scanning everything at once. He’s practically vibrating with excitement, turning his head from left to right like he might miss something if he blinks. Beside him is Connor Wayley, Kevin’s “just friend”, trying to play it a little more composed, but the grin gives him away immediately. He’s got that unmistakable look of someone who was handed a dream and is still half-convinced he’s going to wake up.
Connor adjusts the VIP lanyard at his chest, bold, glossy, impossible to miss, BACKSTAGE PASS swinging as he walks. This isn’t just a ticket. It’s a key.
Carter and Miles move at an easy pace, luggage rolling behind them, like they’re arriving at work. Kevin and Connor, meanwhile, are a bundle of excited energy, bouncing on their toes, whispering fast, gesturing at everything: the road cases, the lighting rigs, the quick flashes of wrestlers passing in the background with their gear bags, the production monitors stacked on a cart showing the live countdown graphics.
Kevin can’t help it, he does that thing where he takes one step forward, then back, like his body doesn’t know whether to run or savor the moment.
Connor looks at Kevin and laughs under his breath, then looks up toward the corridor ahead, toward the glow of the arena entrance and the movement of people, and his excitement spikes all over again. He’s been gifted the VIP Package for Inception VIII: front row seats for him and Kevin, and the kind of backstage access people talk about like it’s folklore.
They’re actually here.
And as the four of them start down the hallway, champions rolling luggage like it’s routine, and the two younger men practically floating on pure adrenaline, the camera follows, letting the sound of the crowd build… and build… and build… until it feels like the whole night is about to explode into motion.
Justin: This match is scheduled for one fall… introducing first…
The lights in the arena snap out as the jagged electronic rhythm of "Better on Mute" by Sophie Powers rattles across the personal address system. A hot pink glow crosses the stage, rippling in time with the beat, which is sharp enough to rattle the barricades. Powers' grungy sound catches the attention of the crowd, who give a mixed reaction upon the twinkling lights blinking onto the stage in bright white and silver.
Through the glare, Amelia Reynolds steps out from behind the curtain, rhinestone-studded jacket catching the light with every confident step she takes. She stops at center stage, her smirk playful but precise, chin tilted toward the crowd as she turns into the strobe.
A few seconds later, Dickie Watson joins her. He's steady and calm, his gaze flicking toward her with the kind of quiet pride that doesn’t need an announcement. When he reaches her side, Amelia leans into him for a moment, looping her arm through his and pressing her cheek lightly to his shoulder. It’s soft, almost sweet...at least until the next beat drops.
The moment the bass hits, she lets go, stepping forward into the light like she’s flipping a switch. Her whole demeanor shifts. Sugar turned spark, grin wide and wicked as she starts down the ramp. The lights catch on the silver edge of her jacket as she walks, each step hitting clean with the rhythm. Halfway down the ramp, the chorus slams through the speakers. Amelia stops, turns toward the hard cam, and raises a finger to her lips not necessarily to hush, but to make a point.
Then, with a laugh caught between defiance and delight, she sings along, echoing with lyrics, “Better on mute, fuck you, I’ll do it myself.”
The line lands, the crowd reacts, and she answers with a sharp wink before continuing forward. Behind her, Dickie’s smirk deepens, head shaking slightly as he follows at an easy pace, amused and quietly protective.
Justin: Representing Wolfslair...from the beaches of the Gold Coast of Queensland, Australia..."The Skyborn" AMEEEEELIIAAAAAAAA REEEEYYYYNOOOOLLLLLDDDDSSSSSS!!!!
At ringside, Amelia brushes her fingertips along the apron, then springs up in one clean motion. She balances for a breath, hair catching the light, before pushing off into a flawless springboard over the ropes. She lands in a low crouch, grinning toward the camera before rising.
Climbing the second rope in the nearest corner, Amelia poses with one hand under her chin, the other tracing the air near her lips as the lights pulse pink and silver around her. When she hops down, she slips off her jacket and tosses it toward Dickie, who catches it at ringside with a quiet smirk.
She takes a few slow steps toward the turnbuckle she's slated to go into, shoulders rolling as the last notes echo through the arena. The crowd’s noise swells and she looks out over it, her chin tilted, eyes glinting beneath the haze, before the corner of her mouth pulls into a grin as her music fades out.
Justin: And her opponent… hailing from Milwaukee, Wisconsin…Frankie Holliday…
The opening piano strokes of “Skeletons” by Wednesday 13 harbor the arrival of Frankie Holliday. As the guitar riffs begin to ramp up the song, Frankie parts the curtain. A sinister and knowing grin on her face as she doesn’t acknowledge the response in any way, walking down to the ring.
Once she hits the ringside area, she simply rolls under the bottom rope and sits in the corner, still with the grin across her lips. She even chuckles to herself as she readies herself for the match.
The ref moves in and checks both for weapons before indicating for the bell to be ring…
DING DING DING!
Holliday runs her mouth right up until the bell rings and she adds a few more words before she charges at Reynolds, which Reynolds ducks and skips passed Holliday and grabs her around the waist and drags her down to the mat and goes for a pin…
ONE!
TWO!
Kickout!
Simone: Holliday was a little overconfident with running her mouth and charging at Reynolds, as Reynolds dodges and rolls her up for a two count.
Holliday kicks out, as Reynolds moves to her knees, while Holliday sits up and Reynolds smirks and tells her that she was close to beating her in record time using her fingers, as she moves to her feet and Holliday follows, as she glares at Reynolds before charging forward and she looks for a boot, but Reynolds dodges it and Holliday turns and it met with a high kick to her shoulder, which rocks Holliday and Reynolds moves in and grabs Holliday around the waist again and drags her down to the mat and pins her once more…
Lunam: Reynolds brags how close she was to winning the match, as they both make their way to their feet, as Holliday charges in anger and it backfires as Reynolds dodges her again, as this time Reynolds hits a high kick, which surprises Holliday and Reynolds grabs Holliday and drags her down to the mat for another pin attempt.
ONE!
TWO!
Holliday kicks out once more, as Reynolds is back to her feet, but Holliday is a little slower to move, as Reynolds grabs her and drags her up and then throws her into a corner headfirst against a turnbuckle before driving a boot into Holliday’s stomach before firing in a punch to her chest and then hits another boot to her stomach, as the ref demands to come out of the corner, which Reynolds looks at the ref before grabbing Holliday by the hair and pulls her from the corner before sending Holliday into another corner face first, which rocks her.
Simone: Holliday kicks out again at two, as Reynolds is first back to her feet and she quickly grabs Holliday and pulls her up, where she then pulls Holliday to the corner, which she drives her into the top turnbuckle before following up with some boots to the stomach and then a punch before another boot before having to be told move back.
Lunam: Reynolds doesn’t listen and she grabs Holliday and pulls her away from the corner, which I guess works. Before going to another corner and drives her face into another turnbuckle.
Reynolds pushes Holliday back and hooks her arm around the ropes, where she then turns her back to Holliday and fires a few elbows backwards at Holliday and catching her on the side of the head as the ref moves in again and Reynolds stops, as Holliday sits down on the bottom turnbuckle. Reynolds turns and grabs Holliday and pulls her up to her feet, where she grabs her hand and goes to Irish whip her across the ring, but Holliday counters and sends Reynolds towards the ropes, Reynolds leaps onto the bottom rope and then middle rope and hits a springboard crossbody onto Holliday and goes for a pin…
Simone: Reynolds with some vicious elbows, but the ref quickly puts a stop to it and Reynolds grabs the slumped Holliday and Irish whips her across the ring, but Holliday counters and Reynolds leaps onto the ropes and hits a springboard crossbody onto Holliday and into a pin.
ONE!
TWO!
Kickout!
Holliday kicks out, as she rolls away from Reynolds, as Reynolds makes her way to her feet and moves towards Holliday, where she gives her a shove with a boot, as Holliday shakes her head, as she tries to move away again but Reynolds gives her another shove and Holliday rolls away and makes her way to her feet, as Reynolds then goes for a wild swing, which Holliday catches her arm before grabbing her head and she drops down to a single knee and drives Reynolds face into her knee before popping back up and hitting a short arm clothesline before going for a pin…
Lunam: Holliday kicks out again… as Reynolds moves back to her feet and approaches Holliday and disrespects her, which Holliday tries to move away but Reynolds continues. Holliday slowly makes her way to her feet and Reynolds moves towards her and tries for a wild swing, but Holliday is ready for her and grabs Reynolds and plants her face on her knee before following up with a short arm clothesline.
ONE!
TWO!
Kickout!
Reynolds kicks out, as Holliday shakes her head, as she pounces on Reynolds and begins to fire in punches and then forearm shots before rolling off her and climbs to her feet, where she continues the assault with boots before stopping and hitting an elbow drop to Reynolds sternum, she quickly gets back up and hits another elbow drop before rising once more and this time his a standing leg drop across Reynolds throat before adjusting her position and goes for a cover…
Simone: Reynolds is unsure what happened there but she kicks out before Holliday moves back in and fires in some punches and forearm shots before making her way back to her feet, where she delivers boots and then hits multiple elbow drops before finishing it with a leg drop and into a pin of her own.
ONE!
TWO!
TH…kickout!
Reynolds kicks out, as Holliday looks to the ref and they briefly argue about the count before turning back to Reynolds and tries again…
Lunam: Reynolds kicks out, as Holliday and the ref argue before turning back to Reynolds for another pin.
ONE!
TWO!
Kickout!
Reynolds kicks out again, as Holliday slaps the mat as she climbs to her feet and grabs Reynolds and drags her up to her feet, as Reynolds hits a standing front kick, which forces Holliday back, however, as Holliday moves forward Reynolds fires in a spinning back fist, which rocks Holliday and she stumbles backwards and drops to a knee and Reynolds takes a moment before rushing in with a knee strike to the side of Holliday’s head, which then Holliday drops to her side before rolling on her back.
Simone: Reynolds kicks out, as Holliday gets a but frustrated, as she moves to her feet and takes Reynolds with her, but Reynolds begins to fight back, as she kicks Holliday away before following up with a spinning back fist.
Lunam: what a strike. As Holliday drops to a knee and Reynolds fires in a knee strike.
Reynolds takes a second before turning and leaps off the ropes and hits a springboard moonsault onto Holliday. Reynolds rolls away and climbs back to her feet, as Holliday rolls onto her side as she tries to get back to her feet, but Reynolds delivers a punt kick to Holliday’s ribs. Holliday expels a load of air before rolling herself towards the ropes but Reynolds follows and Holliday gets to the ropes and grabs them as Reynolds grabs a foot and begins to pull but Holliday clings on and demands to the ref for Reynolds to keep back.
Simone: Holliday is in trouble here… as Holliday hits a springboard moonsault before following up with a punk kick to her ribs.
Lunam: Holliday moves to the ropes for that rope break, as Reynolds tries to grab her but Holliday doesn’t break her grip and the ref forces Reynolds back.
The ref does move in and tells Reynolds to release her foot, which she reluctantly does and backs off and Holliday pulls herself close to the ropes before sitting up and she glares at Reynolds. Reynolds begins to pace as she waits for Holliday to get to her feet. Holliday takes a moment before slowly moves to her feet, as Reynolds then charges in and Holliday gets her feet up and catches Reynolds in the face.
Lunam: Holliday makes her way to her feet, which Reynolds then charges in but Holliday gets her feet up and into Reynolds face.
Reynolds turns and stumbles away holding her face and Holliday rushes in and catches Reynolds with a forearm to the back of her neck. Reynolds stumbles forward but Holliday grabs her hand and pulls her back and right into a headbutt across the bridge of Reynolds nose. A small trickle of blood appears, as Holliday doesn’t release and pulls Reynolds close and hits a short arm clothesline. She still doesn’t release and this time she sets up and hits the Dahmer Driver (Northern Lights Bomb).
Simone: Reynolds is rocked and Holliday shakes off the earlier stuff from Reynolds and begins to get back into this match.
Lunam: Nice Northern Lights Bomb.
She doesn’t cover her straight away and she moves to her feet and drags Reynolds to her knees and then sets up and hits the Wisconsin Autopsy (Double wrist lock knee strike / Kamigoye). She then goes for a pin…
Simone: Reynolds is done here.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Lunam: Holliday wins!
DING DING DING!
Justin: Winner of this match via pinfall… Frankie Holliday!
Holliday’s music hits over the p.a, as she climbs off Reynolds and makes her way to her feet, as the ref takes her hand and rises it up high.
We cut to the backstage area where we see Pussy Willow about to interview tonight’s challenger for the Roulette Title Logan alongside the Shields Sisters Brooke and Marissa, Brooke clearly doesn’t want to be here.
Pussy Willow: Brooke.
Brooke: Pussy.
Marissa: To think, in any other context my sister calling someone “pussy” would be an insult!
Pussy snorts as Marissa says that.
Pussy Willow: You’re not wrong Marissa! Anyway, do you have anything to say to me Brooke?
Brooke: NO I’M NOT APOLOGIZNG TO YOU FOR SHOVING YOU AT HIGH STAKES! Not with the instructions I left with the production booth!
Pussy Willow: Instructions?
Brooke: Logan will be coming out to the favourite song of production’s favourite Shield Sister which is OBVIOUSLY me!
Pussy Willow: And not Marissa?
Brooke: PUH-LEASE! Like anyone cares about her opinions.
Marissa: Gee, thanks sis!
Pussy Willow: Anyway, Logan, thoughts on your Roulette Title Match tonight?
Logan: I will reclaim my throne tonight! The Roulette Title rightfully belongs to me and I will prove it when I take the gold from Christian’s chosen usurper Vincent Lyons Jr.
Pussy Willow: Anything else?
Logan: No one will ever rob me of my throne again!
Logan and Brooke walk off but Pussy stops Marissa.
Pussy Willow: So what exactly is production up too.
Marissa: Let’s just say that me and the production staff had a very long and productive meeting this morning!
Marissa smirks before walking off as the scene fades.
The camera cuts backstage to the private hallway reserved for top talent. The arena noise is muffled here. HBCarter and Miles walk with purpose, flanked by the two teenage boys. Carter keeps his shoulders squared and his pace steady. Miles stays close, his hand occasionally hovering near Carter’s back like a silent promise to catch him if he wavers.
As they reach the door to Carter’s private dressing room, the one he shares with Miles, all four slow down at the same time. Two paid security personnel stand posted outside the door. Not leaning. Not chatting. Straight-backed, hands clasped, eyes scanning. The kind of presence that changes the air in a hallway.
Miles: What’s going on?
One guard steps half a pace forward, respectful, but firm.
Guard: We were stationed here.
HBCarter: Stationed by who?
Before the guard can answer, a familiar set of heels clicks against the concrete. The camera shifts slightly, and General Manager Evelyn Hall steps into view from around the corner, calm as ever, poised, composed, and clearly expecting them.
Evelyn Hall: By me.
Carter’s brow tightens, but he doesn’t bristle. Miles’ eyes flick to the guards, then back to Evelyn, protective suspicion giving way to cautious attention. The two teens, Connor and his friend, straighten like they’ve been caught doing something they weren’t supposed to, even though they’re doing absolutely nothing wrong.
Evelyn’s expression softens immediately when she looks at the boys. She offers them a graceful smile, warm, almost motherly, before turning her attention to Carter and Miles, concern settling over her features like a veil.
Evelyn Hall: Word travels fast. Especially with bad news. I spoke at length with Christian Underwood and I want you both to know something very clearly.
Evelyn steps closer, lowering her voice, not secretive, just respectful of how thin the walls can be in this business.
Evelyn Hall: We’re on your side. Both of us. And we want you safe.
Carter’s jaw flexes. He’s used to being the one who handles danger, not the one being handled. Miles stays still, but there’s a subtle relief in his eyes, the kind that shows up when someone else finally takes a little weight off your shoulders.
Evelyn Hall: So I added extra security. Not to make a scene. Not to suffocate you. Just to keep it that way. Safe.
Carter exhales through his nose, the tension in his shoulders easing by a fraction. He nods once, deliberate.
HBCarter: Thank you, Evelyn. Truly.
Miles: Yeah. Thank you. That means a lot.
Evelyn gives a small nod, accepting the gratitude without making it a bigger moment than it needs to be. She turns slightly, already beginning to leave, mission accomplished, boundary respected. And then, out of nowhere, Connor steps forward with the kind of excited courage only a teenager can find in the most random moments.
Connor: Um, Ms. Hall? Can I-can I have your picture?
Evelyn pauses mid-step. For the first time, something like surprise flickers across her face and then she smiles, genuine, touched, almost amused.
Evelyn Hall: That’s a first.
Connor’s face lights up like he just won a title. His friend nudges him with an elbow, grinning. Evelyn steps back toward them, angling herself so she’s beside the boys like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Evelyn Hall: Of course. Let’s make it a good one.
Miles pulls his phone out smoothly, already stepping into the role of photographer with a fond little shake of his head. Carter watches the moment like it’s something precious, because it is. A flash of normal in a night that’s been anything but.
Miles: Alright everyone in. Connor, don’t blink.
Evelyn tilts her chin slightly, the polished GM smile back in place, while Connor and his friend beam like they’re standing next to a living legend. Miles holds the phone up, frames it, and snaps the shot. Connor practically vibrates with happiness.
Evelyn Hall: There you go. You’ll have to tell me if that ends up as your profile picture.
Evelyn’s eyes return to Carter and Miles, her expression softening again, professional concern mixed with something quietly protective.
Evelyn Hall: Take care of each other. And if you need anything tonight, anything at all, you let me know.
Carter nods, a silent promise. Miles gives a grateful look that says a thousand words without any of them being spoken. Evelyn Hall turns and walks off-camera, heels clicking down the hallway until the sound fades. Carter reaches for the dressing room door. One of the guards steps in smoothly, opens it for them, and holds it as the four move inside. The door shuts behind them, and the camera lingers for a beat on the two posted guards, silent, steady, unmoving, before the shot fades out.
The ring is already a warning before anyone makes the walk. No protective padding outside—just exposed floor, steel, and barricade. Two tables are stacked at ringside. A ladder leans against the steps like it has been left there on purpose. Chairs sit in lazy, crooked angles that look accidental until you realize they are all within reach.
Justin Decent stands center-ring, mic up, letting the crowd’s restless noise roll.
Justin: The following contest is scheduled for one fall… and it will be contested under HARDCORE RULES!
The lights collapse into total black.The crowd swells, hungry for impact.
A sharp crackle of red-and-silver static flickers across the video screen like a damaged broadcast refusing to stabilize.
“I’ll bite my tongue ‘til it bleeds…”
Addie Nicole’s voice cuts through the darkness—raw, haunting—while a single red spotlight slashes across the stage and fog rolls in across the ramp, thick and low, swallowing the aisle in slow motion.
Bella Madison steps into the light with her hood up and her head down, arms at her sides. Her silhouette is sharp—black matte leather gear with crimson trim and silver-glitched detailing that catches the spotlight in jagged edges. No theatrics. No pageantry. Just presence. On the screen behind her, her name glitches to life in hard stutters:
BELLA MADISON
BITE. YOUR. TONGUE.
Justin: Hailing from Manhattan, New York, representing Wolfslair, weighing in at ONE!TWO!5 pounds, this is BELLA MADISON!
“Metallic tranquility… the pain gets buried beneath…”
Bella begins her walk down the ramp, controlled and heavy with purpose, each step deliberate as if she’s counting the seconds until impact. Halfway down she stops, her head tilting up just enough to catch the hard cam for a beat that feels like a dare, and when the beat drops the lights shift into strobe pulses that echo like warning shots.
“I could destroy you with one line…”
She moves again, unhurried, letting the crowd feel the tension in the space she’s taking. At ringside, she circles the ring once, staring up at it like a battlefield she’s already decided to bleed on, then slides under the bottom rope and stays on one knee—grounded, still, gathering the storm in her lungs.
“Just be human, fuck your pride… you’re addicted to the fight…”
Bella rises, reaches up, and pulls back the hood so her hair falls loose around her face, eyes locking dead on the hard cam with steady, unblinking conviction.
“I’ll bite my tongue ‘til it bleeds…”
She mouths the words like a vow, not a lyric, and as the chorus fades she steps to the center of the ring and raises three fingers—no smile, no pose, no compromise—just Bella, exactly as she is now.
The arena darkens again, the light draining out of the building like the oxygen is being pulled with it. The crowd doesn’t settle—if anything it sharpens, that restless hum rising into anticipation because they know what comes next isn’t a performance, it’s a threat.
A voice cuts through the dark like a promise with teeth.
“I will kill your dreams.”
“Like a Villain” by Bad Omens hits and the lights snap between deep purple and red—harsh pulses that turn the stage into a warning signal, flashing like an alarm in a place that has already caught fire. The entrance screen stutters with fractured visuals, the colors bleeding and glitching as if the broadcast itself doesn’t want to hold her image steady.
Kayla Richards steps out in black and purple with a black leather jacket, long hair flowing, face set in cold confidence. She doesn’t pause to soak in the reaction. She doesn’t posture for approval. Her posture is easy in the way only a predator looks easy, controlled, measured, already certain of the outcome. She walks with the kind of calm that makes people uncomfortable, because calm like that only exists when someone believes they’re untouchable.
She reaches the top of the ramp and stops for half a beat, not to pose, but to let the arena see her properly. The purple-and-red strobe washes over her like bruises blooming across the stage. Her eyes sweep the crowd as if they’re background noise, then settle on the ring like it’s the only thing that matters. Like the only thing that ever matters.
Then she moves.
Kayla heads down the ramp with deliberate pace, shoulders loose, hands relaxed at her sides, the leather jacket shifting with each step. There’s no rush, no wasted motion, just a steady, inevitable approach, as if she’s walking toward something that already belongs to her. She hits ringside, and the pace changes instantly. Kayla breaks into a run, slides across the apron on one knee with practiced ease, and the motion is so smooth it looks rehearsed until you remember the way she fights is the same way she moves, like control is her default setting.
She steps through the ropes and rises slowly, letting the lights catch the purple accents of her gear. She throws both hands in the air, crosses her fingers into a sharp “K,” then turns it into a double bird aimed at the crowd like an insult carved in stone. The hands drop into a finger-gun pointed straight out into the noise—casual, mocking, and deadly in its simplicity.
Justin: From Norwich, East Anglia, England, weighing in at one hundred twenty-eight pounds… she is the “DREAMKILLER”… KAYLA RICHARDS!
Lunam: No partner. No outside shadow. Kayla Richards came here to prove she does not need anyone to be the most dangerous woman in the match.
Simone: And Bella asked for the worst version of her. Under Hardcore Rules… you get exactly what you earn.
Kayla turns and looks at Bella with a smirk on her face, as if to say, “You asked for too much now.” Bella looks on from her turnbuckle defiantly. The crowd swells as the two stare at each other from their turnbuckles.
Referee Jasmine St. John gives the last warning she can give, which really is more tradition than authority at this point, and calls for the bell.
DING DING DING!
And Kayla is already moving. Kayla storms out of her corner with forearms that land like blunt instruments, smashing against Bella’s guard hard enough to still snap Bella’s head sideways. She keeps coming – crowding, pressing, striking – turning the first ten seconds into a statement meant to steal oxygen and confidence at the same time.
Lunam: Kayla Richards said Bella was predictable—this is how she proves it. She’s trying to make Bella fight from behind immediately.
Simone: And this is Hardcore Rules. If you start on the back foot, the weapons find you faster.
Bella doesn’t retreat so much as she redirects. She slips the next shot, turns her hips, and snaps Kayla down with a clean armdrag, flowing immediately into a hammerlock like it’s reflex. It’s catch wrestling in the middle of a Hardcore Match, Bella trying to prove she can control chaos by controlling anatomy.
Kayla refuses the lesson. She shifts, plants, and drives a sharp elbow backward into Bella’s face, short, efficient, and ugly. Bella’s grip breaks for half a second and Kayla uses that half-second like it’s gold, ripping free and chopping Bella across the chest with a knife-edge slap that echoes.
Simone: That’s the difference in mindset. Bella wants control. Kayla wants consequences.
Bella takes the chop and answers with a dropkick that snaps Kayla back into the ropes. Bella charges, hooks the head, and plants Kayla with a crisp DDT that pops the crowd, then pops herself up just as fast.
No pause.
Bella slides out of the ring and reaches for steel. A chair scrapes up from the floor with a metallic scream. Bella folds it, tests the hinge, and slides back in with it angled like an extension of her arms. Kayla meets it with a boot to the gut that folds Bella over the seat.Then she delivers a leaping calf kick that clips Bella’s head and sends the chair skittering away.
Bella drops to a knee, blinking hard, ribs tightening with the impact. Kayla doesn’t allow recovery; she runs, corner dropkicks Bella into the turnbuckles, and unloads forearms in a repeatable rhythm that turns the corner into a punishment chamber.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Lunam: Strong style in a Hardcore Match is terrifying. It doesn’t need toys. It just needs time.
Bella shells up, then slips sideways off the last one and snaps a hurricanrana, flipping Kayla across the mat unexpectedly. Kayla slides on her back, boots digging, and Bella lunges for the chair again.The swing is violent.Kayla ducks by inches. The chair smashes into the ropes and rebounds, just enough distraction for Kayla to drive a knee into Bella’s ribs so sharply Bella folds. Another knee lands. Then a roaring elbow snaps Bella’s head sideways and drops her to the canvas with a dull bounce.
Kayla hooks the leg like an insult.
Lunam: Kayla is treating the pin like punctuation.
One!
Tw–
Bella kicks out hard, forcing space with pure refusal.
Kayla sits up, expression unchanged, and drags Bella by the wrist toward the ropes. Bella tries to scramble, and Kayla rakes her face with a grinding hand, just long enough to tilt the fight. Then, she throws her through the ropes to the floor.
Bella lands with a hard slap, hip and elbow taking the impact. The air leaves her in one sharp burst. Kayla drops out after her, calm as a person setting a table. She slams a table down at ringside, legs shuddering, wood bouncing. She grabs a second chair, then a kendo stick, then reaches under the apron and drags out a trash can and its lid with a hollow clang. The lid catches the light when she lifts it, flat and unforgiving.
Simone: That’s not a “weapon,” that’s a multiplier. That lid turns every strike into a car crash.
Kayla swings the lid into Bella’s ribs while Bella is still trying to sit up – THUNK – and Bella folds over with a sharp gasp. Kayla follows with the can itself, tipping it forward and dropping it over Bella’s upper body like a cage. The crowd rises as Kayla steps back and drives a kick into the side of the can, denting it inward.
Bella convulses under the impact, then shoves the can up and off with both arms, rolling away like she’s escaping a trap door.
Lunam: Bella’s not just hurt, she’s being smothered! Kayla is trying to turn this into panic.
Bella snatches the lid on her way up and answers with it, swinging not like a wild brawler, but like someone chopping wood. The edge catches Kayla in the shoulder, then again across the ribs, and Kayla staggers two steps back with her jaw clenched. Bella doesn’t admire it. She throws the lid down and blasts Kayla with a running dropkick that sends her into the barricade.Then Bella grabs Kayla and drives her face-first into the barricade padding – once, twice – before rolling her back toward the ring.
Simone: That’s the “Queen of Hardcore” part. No hesitation. No apology.
Kayla yanks Bella by the hair and whips her into the steel steps at ringside.The impact is brutal. Shin to steel, hip to edge, and Bella crumples, clutching her leg. Kayla stalks in and scrapes a boot along Bella’s fingers, then stomps down on the hand like she’s trying to delete the idea of Bella grabbing anything ever again.
Bella recoils, curls inward and then snaps her foot up and catches Kayla’s knee with a sharp kick, buying a sliver of space. Bella uses that space to drag herself under the ring apron and rip something out with both hands.
A chain. Heavy, cold, ugly.
Bella wraps it around her forearm once, then twice, and stands into Kayla with it, swinging short, compact strikes that land with chain-assisted weight. Kayla eats one to the shoulder, one to the ribs, one to the collarbone, and the crowd roars because now it looks like both women have decided the only language worth speaking is damage.
Lunam: That’s a hard shift—Bella is matching violence with violence. That’s what she said she’d do.
Kayla backs up, eyes narrowing, then surges forward and drives a knee into Bella’s midsection. Bella bends, chain dangling, and Kayla grabs the chain and yanks, pulling Bella forward into a knife-edge chop that cracks across Bella’s chest like a gunshot. Bella stumbles. Kayla throws Bella onto the table she set up earlier and climbs onto the apron like she’s stepping into a routine.Kayla springs off the apron and drops a knee across Bella’s ribs on the table – wood groaning but not breaking – pain blooming through Bella’s torso like fire.
Simone: That’s surgical cruelty. Kayla isn’t trying to break the table yet. She’s trying to break Bella.
Bella rolls off the table, clutching her ribs. Kayla drags her up and tries to whip her into the ring post, Bella reverses at the last second and sends Kayla shoulder-first into the steel instead. Kayla bounces off metal with a grimace, and Bella snaps her with a Shining Wizard that catches Kayla flush and drives her back against the post again.
Bella shoves Kayla into the ring. Bella slides in after her, chest heaving, chain still wrapped around her forearm like a vow. She stalks forward, then Kayla drops low and kicks Bella’s knee out from under her. Bella hits the mat. Kayla pounces with the chair, slamming it down across Bella’s ankle and stomping it once, hard, pinning the joint and grinding it. Bella’s body jerks, shoulders lifting off the mat as she tries to pull away, but the chair holds her in place for that split second.
Lunam: That’s the nightmare of Hardcore. It’s not just pain, it’s leverage. You can’t move when you need to.
Bella rips the chair away with both hands and throws it across the ring, then lunges for Kayla with a headscissors takedown that flips Kayla over and buys Bella a moment to breathe. Bella uses it, snapping a surfboard stretch in the center, pulling Kayla’s arms back, trying to bend her into a clean submission statement in the middle of a messy match. Kayla snarls silently and rakes her boot across Bella’s face, prying her off. She scrambles up and throws a running bulldog that spikes Bella down, then immediately rolls through and drags Bella toward the ropes.
Toward the floor. Toward the weapons.
Bella clings to the bottom rope, refusing to be dragged out, and Kayla answers by reaching down, grabbing the kendo stick, and cracking it across Bella’s hands.
Once. Twice.
Bella’s grip breaks. Kayla yanks her through the ropes and out to the floor again. Bella lands hard, rolling to her side, and Kayla reaches under the apron and drags out the small bag that rattles when it hits the ground.
Thumbtacks. Kayla turns it in her hands once, then slides into the ring and pours. Thumbtacks spill out with a soft, terrible glitter. Not scattered. Not chaotic. A clean bed of silver points in the center of the mat.
Simone: That’s planning. Kayla doesn’t want a brawl, she wants a trap.
Bella climbs onto the apron, eyes catching the tack bed, and steps in anyway because there’s no other way to wear the words she’s been saying. Kayla meets her with a chop that cracks, then a sitout jawbreaker that snaps Bella down. Kayla immediately clamps onto Bella’s wrist and starts dragging her toward the tacks like she’s dragging her toward a thesis. Bella twists, kicks Kayla’s knee, and snaps a short trip hurricanrana to break the grip, rolling just far enough to avoid sliding into the points. Bella rises and blasts Kayla with a Yakuza kick that sends her tumbling through the ropes to the floor.
Bella follows. She snatches the kendo stick and starts swinging.The first shot cracks across Kayla’s shoulder. The second catches ribs. The third lands across the thigh, dry, loud, and brutal. Kayla absorbs it with clenched teeth, then surges forward and drives Bella spine-first into the barricade with enough force to make the front row flinch. Bella’s back hits hard and her breath catches in her throat.
Kayla chops Bella again, red handprint blooming on her chest, then yanks her by the hair and whips her into the ring post. Metallic impact rings through the arena. Bella drops to a knee.Kayla takes the chair and smashes it into Bella’s back, and then again, then wedges it under Bella’s chin and crushes forward, compressing jaw and throat between steel and post. Bella claws at the chair, legs scraping for traction, trying to pull her face free from the bite.
Lunam: Bella wanted the monster. Kayla is happy to oblige.
Kayla breaks the pressure and throws Bella back into the ring.Bella crawls, palms flat, shoulders tight, her eyes flicking to the tack bed. She stops herself inches short, refusing to slide into it. Kayla steps in and boots her ribs, trying to shove her forward. Bella rolls away at the last second and, desperate and instinctive, snaps on an STF.
For a brief moment, the match becomes grinding and ugly in a different way. Bella’s forearm presses across Kayla’s face, legs cinched tight, trying to force a surrender through structure rather than spectacle. Kayla claws at the mat, reaches for ropes that don’t matter, then torques her hips and pries Bella off with raw leverage. She doesn’t even breathe hard—just rises and blasts Bella with a leaping calf kick that knocks her toward the corner.
Kayla charges. Bella catches her. Kayla’s pulled by whiplash, her arm hooked behind her, and Bella drops Kayla hard enough to rattle the ring. Bella sits up, breath sharp, eyes immediately going outside.
The table.The ladder. The broken options.
Bella slides out and drags the ladder up, setting it as a bridge between the apron and the barricade, an angled steel ramp made of aluminum teeth. The crowd’s noise rises as Bella turns back toward Kayla with that look that says she’s done being careful.
Simone: That’s the kind of decision that changes careers.
Bella drags Kayla to the apron, climbs to the second rope, and snaps a springboard enzuigiri clean. Kayla wobbles, hands clutching for balance. Bella climbs higher. She is thinking of the moment. She launches. Kayla shifts just enough. Bella crashes through the table outside in a violent explosion of wood and impact, splinters scattering as the crowd surges to its feet. Bella’s body twitches in the wreckage, chest heaving, arms searching for something solid to pull against.
Simone: That’s Hardcore Rules. One inch is the difference between coronation and catastrophe.
Kayla stands over the wreckage, expression flat, breathing controlled. No gloating. Just work. She drags Bella by the arm through broken wood, shoves her onto the ladder bridge, and cracks the chair across Bella’s back – once, then again, each strike ringing off metal and pain. Bella tries to roll off the ladder, but Kayla hooks the chain still wrapped around Bella’s forearm and pulls her back into position like she’s reeling in a catch.
Lunam: That’s vicious awareness – Kayla is using Bella’s own weapon as a handle.
Kayla drives a knee into Bella’s chest on the ladder. Then another. Then another, each one forcing Bella’s breath out in harsh bursts while the ladder flexes under her weight. Kayla swings the kendo stick down across Bella’s back and the crack echoes. Bella’s body jolts like her nerves are firing all at once. Bella forces herself upright anyway. She catches the next stick swing with both hands, rips it away, and jams the end into Kayla’s stomach. Then she snaps a dropkick that sends Kayla backward into the barricade, buying Bella enough time to peel herself off the ladder and stumble back toward the ring.
Bella rolls Kayla back in with urgency, eyes wild with focus now, and climbs the ropes—one last gamble for a finishing moment. The crowd rises because they know what comes next. Bella leaps! Second Gen, her version of the Phoenix Splash–Kayla gets her knees up! Bella’s ribs collide with Kayla’s raised legs and the impact folds her in mid-air, dumping her onto the mat in a gasping heap.
Simone: That’s the danger of chasing a defining moment. You miss, and it costs you years.
Kayla doesn’t waste the opening. She drags Bella up and drives the Dreamkiller, Kayla’s version of the V-Trigger, into Bella’s face with sick precision. Bella’s head snaps back and she collapses, eyes glassy, body rolling once like it’s searching for a safe side to land on. Kayla covers.
One!
Two!
Bella kicks out!
The building erupts at the refusal, and Kayla’s expression shifts for the first time – something like cold irritation that Bella is still writing her own story.
Lunam: That kickout wasn’t strategy. That was identity.
Kayla yanks Bella up again and swings the chair into Bella’s shoulder with a hollow clang that drops her to a knee. A step-up enzuigiri lands and Bella’s balance goes ugly for a second, vision swimming. Kayla drags Bella up, breath steady, and glances once at the tacks. Then she commits. Kayla hooks a body lock and throws Bella backward into the center, dumping her into the tacks, upper back meeting silver points with punishing, full impact. Bella arches, whole body reacting, then collapses, breath coming in sharp, involuntary bursts as the crowd roars with that horrified excitement only hardcore violence creates.
Simone: That is the receipt for demanding Kayla Richards at full speed.
Kayla has tacks stuck to her own arm now, little silver points dotting her skin and gear, but she doesn’t slow down. She drags Bella into position, slips behind her with that body lock like a cage, snakes an arm under the chin, and drops her weight to flatten Bella where every movement hurts worse.
The Ghostlock is in.
Bella’s boots scrape. Hands claw at Kayla’s forearm. Hips try to turn, but the tack bed makes every bridge a punishment and every twist a fresh bite. Bella reaches for the ropes on instinct, fingers stretching… Nothing.
Lunam: No rope breaks. No mercy. That’s the nightmare math of a Hardcore Match.
Kayla tightens, using the body lock to keep Bella pinned where it hurts the most. Bella fights, shoulders trembling, legs kicking for traction that isn’t there. The struggle becomes smaller, then sharper, then smaller again as pain and pressure compress the options down to one.
Bella passes out and the referee calls for the bell!
DING DING DING!
Justin: Here is your winner by technical submission KAYLA RICHARDS!!!!!!
Kayla releases and rises with a calm that looks wrong after that kind of violence. She stands over Bella, tacks stuck to gear, blood visible, breath steady, and the point is unmistakable: no help, no interference, no borrowed prominence.
Lunam: Kayla Richards didn’t need anybody. She didn’t need a distraction. She didn’t need a partner. She just ended Bella Madison in the place that hurts the most.
Simone: Bella asked for the monster and fought like she meant it. But Kayla’s entire identity is ending moments, ending dreams,ending coronations.
Kayla forms the “K,” flips it into the double bird, then finishes on the finger-gun aimed at the hard cam as she backs out of the ring. No celebration beyond that. No look back. Bella remains down in the ring, chest rising and falling, body marked by silver points and bruises—still moving, still present, refusing to be erased even in defeat.
Connor is practically vibrating with excitement the second they’re ushered backstage. The VIP lanyard around his neck might as well be glowing.
Connor: Holy crap, this is actually happening. I’m actually here. Backstage.... At Inception. I’m gonna pass out.
Kevin: If you pass out, I’m leaving you with the ring crew.
Miles: Mate, breathe before Carter has to call medical on you.
HBCarter: Let him have his moment. He’s excited.
Connor is starstruck by literally everything, wrestlers walking by, crew hauling equipment, monitors with match cards scrolling.
Connor: Dude. That’s, oh my God, that’s the actual guerilla position. Is that pyro equipment? Are those the tables they use for....
Kevin smacks him lightly in the arm.
Kevin: He’s gonna narrate everything, isn’t he?
Miles: At this rate, yeah. Connor, listen. Don’t wander too far. Don’t poke at anything. If you see Bella, please say hi because she’d be offended if you don’t. If you see Bill Barnhart, pretend to be furniture and he will ignore you completely. And if you come across Despy, hand him some candy...
Connor: Yes. Absolutely. Got it.
There’s a beat where Kevin’s composure slips and you can tell he’s still shaken from everything that happened for the past couple of weeks. Miles notices immediately.
Miles: You good?
Kevin: ...Yeah. Just... a lot. But I’m okay.
HBCarter: Hey, you're with us. That’s what matters.
Kevin nods, grounding himself. Connor, meanwhile, is still in awe.
Connor: I just—thank you. Seriously. You guys didn’t have to get me this pass.
Miles: Sure we did. You’re practically part of the furniture at the condo anyway.
HBCarter: Miles, stop bullying the child.
Miles: I’m not. Not entirely. Kev, why don’t you take him to catering, get him some water.
Kevin nods and lightly tugs at Connor’s sleeve.
Kevin: Come on. Before you start hyperventilating or knock something expensive over.
Connor’s eyes are still bouncing everywhere like he’s trying to absorb every pixel of backstage life at once. He finally tears his attention away and follows Kevin down the hall.
Connor: Do they have like... real wrestler food? Or is it just... normal food?
Kevin: You’ve eaten with us so what the heck do you think is ‘wrestler food’? Besides, It’s catering, not a safari. Calm down.
Miles watches them go for a second, Connor practically walking sideways so he can still look at the production crates, Kevin keeping a firm grip on the back of his hoodie like he’s afraid Connor will wander into a forklift. Carter leans into Miles’ side slightly, fatigue still lingering in his posture.
HBCarter: They’re adorable.
Miles: It’s chaos....Absolute chaos. But harmless chaos.
Carter gives a weak but genuine smile.
HBCarter: Kevin needed the distraction.
Miles nods once, jaw tightening just a little at the reminder.
Miles: Yeah. He did.
Miles adjusts the title belt on his shoulder and glances up the hallway where the crowd values are starting to thicken.
Miles: You sure you’re okay being back here?
Carter’s answer is honest, not performative.
HBCarter: I mean, what else can I be? And honestly, no but I’m not alone. That’s enough for now.
Miles squeezes Carter’s shoulder gently.
Miles: It’s more than enough.
They start walking toward the locker room area together, moving at Carter’s pace. From down the hall, Kevin’s voice carries back loud and clear.
Kevin: Connor, stop trying to touch the lighting rig! They don’t need help!
Connor: I’M JUST LOOKING!!!
Miles pinches the bridge of his nose.
Miles: ...We’re never bringing guests again.
Carter gives a raspy laugh.
HBCarter: We absolutely are.
And for the first time all week, Miles lets himself smile.
Backstage, dull lighting, cameras focused on Alexandra. She’s pacing slightly, intensity radiating. You can hear the dim sounds of the crowd and a match in the distance.
Alexandra: You want to know what happens when someone steps up to me? You get tested. You get challenged. And Alicia Lukas, you’re about to find out exactly what that means. Because tonight, the Bombshell Roulette title isn’t just a belt, it’s a proving ground. A way to prove who has what it takes to stay in the trenches. And you? You’re walking in thinking you’re ready thinking you can stand toe to toe with me.
She stops pacing, looks directly into the camera, voice sharp.
Alexandra: You’ve got an attitude, Alicia. You’ve got a mouth on you. But let me tell you something, attitude doesn’t win matches. Your mouth doesn’t make you a champion. And you? You’re about to learn that when it comes to heart, when it comes to fire, when it comes to winning, you don’t even come close to comparing you with me.
She shook her head.
Alexandra: I’ve dug deeper than anyone else in this business. I’ve fought harder than anyone else in this business. I’ve fallen, I’ve gotten up, and I’ve done whatever it takes to prove that I’m not just here to play, I’m here to dominate. And Alicia Lukas, domination starts tonight.
Alexandra’s expression softens for just a moment, a small smile.
Alexandra: And it’s not all about the fight, either, because outside the ring, I’m stepping into a whole new chapter of my life. Some of you may have heard, yes, I’m engaged!. LJ asked, and I said yes!. And I can’t wait to start this next adventure with him by my side.
At this moment, LJ walks into frame, coming into view of the camera. He smiles and waves, Alexandra beams at him, then turns back to the camera.
Alexandra: But make no mistake, just because I’ve got love and happiness outside this ring, doesn’t mean I’ve gone soft, doesn’t mean anyone in here is safe. Alicia Lukas, I know I’ll enjoy knowing LJ is watching. I’m aware he’ll be cheering. When that bell rings, it’s me and you. And by the end of the night, it won’t just be about a title. It'll be about proving that I am unstoppable.
Alexandra leans up and kisses LJ for a nimble moment, before pulling back a small and turning to the camera.
Alexandra: So Alicia, get ready. Because tonight, you’re not stepping into a match, you’re stepping into a storm. And storms? They leave nothing standing in their path.
Alexandra does her mic drop taunt, stares down the camera with fire in her eyes, LJ gives a supportive nod in the background, and the shot fades to black.
The cameras return to the ring where Justin Decent is standing, once more, in the center. The Roulette Wheel has been spun next to him, though the words on the wheel aren’t really visible. Justin looks at it, and then fully faces the camera.
Justin: The following contest is scheduled for one fall and it is for the SCW Roulette Championship! Under Roulette Championship rules, it is an Anything Goes Weapons Case Match! Every four minutes, a new weapons case opens at ringside for either competitor to use! First pinfall or submission wins!
The lights dim and a low, guttural lion’s roar rolls through the building before the opening riff of “Wretched and Divine” hits. Vincent Lyons Jr steps out in a black jacket, moving with a measured pace that feels less like confidence and more like restraint. He scans the crowd as if he’s cataloging threats instead of soaking in the moment, then continues down the ramp without a flourish.
Simone: Vincent always looks like he’s listening to something no one else can hear.
Lunam: He’s Roulette Champion for a reason, Simone. He thrives when things stop making sense.
Vincent slides in and goes straight to a corner, sitting down as the title is taken and presented. Referee Jacob gives Vincent the usual check, but Vincent barely acknowledges him. His eyes remain fixed on the entrance ramp, jaw tight, shoulders set.
Justin: Introducing first…the champion… from Charlotte, North Carolina… weighing 225 pounds, he is the SCW Roulette Champion, VINCENT LYONS JUUUUNIOR!
Vincent doesn’t raise a hand. He doesn’t celebrate. He simply stands, the corner behind him like an anchor, eyes never leaving the stage.
Simone: That’s not a champion’s posture, that’s a man bracing for impact.
Lunam: Sometimes that’s the same thing.
Justin receives a message at the desk as Vincent leans into the ropes, staring hard up the ramp. He nods, and then looks back up at the stage as well.
Simone: I’ve received word that Brooke demanded that Logan come out to, and I quote, “the favourite song of your favourite Shields Sister” for tonight’s Roulette Title Match!
Lunam: You’d think she’d specify.
A bright, upbeat orchestral track hits the speakers, cheery to the point of cruelty in a setting like this.
Simone: …………is that what I think it is?!
Lunam: Oh my god, it’s Breaking Through from Donkey Kong Bananza!
The crowd explodes in laughter and disbelief as Logan Hunter storms through the curtain like a man trying to strangle the sound itself. Brooke and Marissa Shields follow behind him, Brooke smug and satisfied, Marissa biting her lip like she’s fighting for her life not to laugh. Brooke shoots Marissa a glare that could melt steel; Marissa answers with a look that says she’s going to enjoy every second anyway.
Justin: Introducing the challenger, being accompanied by The Shields Sisters… from Sydney, Australia, weighing TWO!TWO!0 pounds, LOGAN HUNTER!
Logan doesn’t do his usual theatrics. He doesn’t even acknowledge the crowd. He is too busy being furious. He marches down the ramp, slides into the ring, and immediately gets right in Vincent’s face.
Simone: He’s not waiting. He’s not circling. He’s not playing chess.
Lunam: That music was a humiliation ritual, and Logan is going to make someone pay for it. Vincent just happens to be the one in front of him.
Jacob wedges between them, shouting instructions. Logan backs off one step, still glaring, then snaps forward with a sudden shove to Vincent’s chest. Vincent barely budges, but the look he gives Logan is sharp enough to cut.
The crowd surges with anticipation. Logan’s mouth curls into a grin that isn’t joy. It’s permission. Vincent’s expression remains fixed, but his hands flex at his sides like he’s trying to keep them from shaking. Jacob calls for the bell.
DING DING DING!
Logan explodes at the sound! Forearm smash, forearm smash, then a sudden headbutt that snaps Vincent’s face up. Logan whips him hard into the corner and charges with a running knee lift that jars Vincent’s teeth, then follows with a short step-back and a superkick that catches Vincent flush and stumbles him out of the corner.
Simone: Logan is coming out like a man trying to end the night in sixty seconds.
Lunam: He’s furious, and fury is fast.
Vincent swings back with a back elbow that cracks Logan on the jaw, then a second that forces Logan to stagger. Vincent surges with a snap suplex, pops back up, and strings together a kitchen sink knee into a pendulum backbreaker that folds Logan over his spine. Vincent doesn’t admire it – he drops a knee across Logan’s back and then stomps, stomp-stomp-stomp, driving Logan toward the ropes.
Logan scrambles up and throws a desperation dropkick to the knee, chopping Vincent’s base out. Vincent falls to a knee. Logan hits the ropes and blasts him with a lariat that turns Vincent inside out. Logan covers immediately.
ONE!
TWO!
Vincent kicks out.
Logan snatches Vincent up and tries to drop him with a quick brainbuster, but Vincent blocks the lift, slips behind, and plants Logan with a sharp snap DDT that spikes him clean. Vincent hooks the leg.
ONE!
TWO!
Logan kicks out hard.
Vincent’s eyes flash with irritation, and he drags Logan up by the wrist, whipping him into the ropes—Vincent tries to meet him with a leg lariat, but Logan ducks, rebounds, and drills a dropkick to Vincent’s chest that sends the champion crashing into the corner. Logan sprints in for another running knee—Vincent pivots and catches him with a corner choke-and-release, then slings Logan out with an exploder throw that dumps him near ringside.
Logan rolls to the apron to breathe. Vincent charges. Logan snaps a shoulder into his ribs and follows with a springboard flying elbow that crashes across Vincent’s sternum. Logan pops up and throws a second superkick! Vincent catches it, spins Logan, and whips him down with a Russian legsweep, then immediately transitions into The Lyons Grip, the king crab lock, wrenching Logan’s spine and legs back with a vicious torque.
Simone: The Lyons Grip locked in early!
Lunam: Vincent wants to break him, not beat him.
Logan claws forward, gritting his teeth, and Brooke screams from ringside. Marissa reaches up to the apron and slaps the canvas to distract Jacob’s sightline. Logan uses the moment to twist his hips, roll, and kick free, then slides behind Vincent and hammers him with arm-trap punches to the side of the head, forcing Vincent to cover up and stumble away.
The timer hits and the first case opens.
Inside: a kendo stick.
Logan snatches it and swings without hesitation. Crack across Vincent’s shoulder. Crack across his ribs. Crack again, Vincent catches the stick mid-swing and rips it away, then returns fire like a man venting rage through wood: one shot across Logan’s back, a second across the ribs, a third that drives Logan down to one knee.
Lunam: That’s Roulette in a sentence. Whoever controls the weapon controls the moment!
Simone: Vincent is swinging like he’s trying to settle something inside his own head.
Vincent discards the stick and tries to capitalize with Ionic Impact; Logan slips just enough that the stomp grazes, and Logan retaliates with a ripcord knee strike that catches Vincent under the chin and staggers him backward. Logan charges – Vincent side-steps and snaps him down with a neckbreaker variation, then rises and hits a standing dropkick that sends Logan tumbling toward the ropes.
Vincent sprints and dives, suicide dive through the ropes, crashing into Logan and driving him into the barricade. Vincent grabs Logan by the head and whips him into the steel steps. Logan leaps onto the steps instead, springing off and catching Vincent with a flying elbow that drops him at ringside.
Logan drags Vincent up and tries for Divine Right of Kings on the floor, Vincent blocks, hooks Logan, and suplexes him onto the ramp with a snap suplex that leaves Logan clutching his back. Vincent grabs the kendo stick again and goes to swing.
Logan ducks and yanks Vincent forward, ramming him face-first into the apron. Logan slides in and out, breaking the count threat, then hauls Vincent up and drives him back-first into the barricade. He winds up and throws a lariat against the barricade that whiplashes Vincent’s neck. Logan rolls Vincent into the ring and covers.
ONE!
TWO!
Vincent kicks out.
Logan doesn’t slow down. He hits the ropes and drops a running knee lift, then snatches Vincent up for a powerbomb. Vincent fights it, elbows free, and counters into a snap suplex. Vincent rises and stomps again, then drags Logan to the corner and hammers him with corner strikes before running across the ring for a corner knee. Logan moves and Vincent’s knee slams into the turnbuckles.
Logan pounces with a chop to the back of the leg and locks on a single leg Boston crab, sitting deep, wrenching back until Vincent’s face twists with pain. Vincent fights, crawling, one palm at a time, and finally gets fingertips to the bottom rope. Jacob forces the break.
The timer hits and the second case opens.
Inside: a steel chain.
Logan grabs the chain and wraps it around his fist, stepping into the ring like he’s been handed a key. He swings. Vincent ducks the first, but the chain clips him on the backhand and stuns him long enough for Logan to whip the chain around Vincent’s throat from behind and yank, trying to throttle him.
Vincent reaches back, grabs the chain, and throws himself backward into the corner, crushing Logan’s ribs. The chain loosens. Vincent spins, hits a short-arm clothesline, then another, then a kitchen sink knee that doubles Logan over. Vincent lines up Ionic Impact—curb stomp connects clean this time, snapping Logan’s head down like a guillotine.
Vincent covers.
ONE!
TWO!
Logan kicks out, barely.
Simone: That was close!
Lunam: Vincent nearly ended it, but Logan Hunter is fueled by spite right now. Spite does not tap easily.
Vincent drags Logan up, hooks both arms, Lyons Roar DDT, Logan counters by driving Vincent into the ropes and then yanking him back into a belly-to-belly suplex that launches Vincent across the ring. Logan follows with a lariat, then scoops Vincent up and drills him with Divine Right of Kings, the fisherman’s brainbuster spiking Vincent hard.
Logan hooks the leg.
ONE!
TWO!
Vincent kicks out.
Logan’s expression tightens, annoyed, and he climbs to the top rope fast, No Hero attempt, a corkscrew 630!
Vincent rolls away at the last second and Logan crashes, landing awkward and clutching his midsection. Vincent surges up and tries to capitalize with stomp flurry. Logan catches a foot, yanks Vincent forward, and snaps him face-first to the mat, then locks in the Faithbreaker triangle choke, legs scissoring tight around Vincent’s head and arm.
Simone: Faithbreaker! He’s got it cinched!
Lunam: Vincent is in danger here! Logan’s looking for a statement submission!
Vincent powers up with pure grit, hoisting Logan and driving him into the corner to force the break. Logan releases but immediately blasts Vincent with a superkick. Vincent wobbles. Logan tries to chain into Hope Ends–Vincent blocks, shoves Logan off, and nails a running knee lift. He snaps Logan with a pendulum backbreaker again, then drops him with a snap DDT and crawls into a cover.
ONE!
TWO!
THR–!
Logan kicks out.
The timer hits and the third case opens.
Inside: a steel chair.
Both men lunge. Vincent reaches first, but Logan dropkicks the chair into Vincent’s face. The chair rebounds off Vincent and clatters. Logan grabs it, swings, and blasts Vincent across the back. Logan sets the chair center ring and tries to hook Vincent for Hope Ends onto it. Vincent fights free and cracks Logan with a back elbow. Vincent tries to seize the chair. Brooke hops on the apron and shouts, drawing Vincent’s eyes for a fraction too long. Vincent steps toward her, jaw tight, and that second of distraction is all Logan needs.
Logan chop-blocks the knee again. Vincent drops. Logan swings the chair across Vincent’s ribs, then throws it aside and covers.
ONE!
TWO!
Vincent kicks out.
Logan snarls and drags Vincent up, hammering him with a lariat, then scooping him, Salvation Denied, an avalanche falcon arrow set-up as he shoves Vincent toward the corner and climbs, dragging him up with him. Vincent fights, throwing short elbows. Logan answers with a headbutt. Vincent clings, then shifts his weight. Vincent slips under and yanks Logan down from the ropes, dropping him hard. Vincent staggers back, adrenaline surging, and launches into Ionic Impact again–Logan sidesteps and Vincent stomps canvas. Logan hits a ripcord knee strike, then a second superkick. Vincent stumbles into Jacob, jostling the referee’s position. Jacob doesn’t fall, but he’s forced to reorient, eyes flicking to ringside where Brooke and Marissa are swarming the apron area.
The timer hits again. Another case opens.
Inside: brass knuckles.
Simone: Oh, you have got to be kidding me.
Lunam: Roulette just handed Logan Hunter the exact tool he’s infamous for.
Brooke doesn’t even need to be sneaky now. She points, Logan snatches the brass knuckles, and the crowd’s reaction turns ugly. Jacob is trying to keep eyes on the ring, keep order in disorder, but Vincent is turning back at the worst possible moment.
Logan cocks his arm.
RIGHT HAND OF GOD.
The punch detonates against Vincent’s jaw. Vincent drops instantly, folding to the mat like the lights shut off. The arena erupts with a chaotic mix of boos, shock, and that uncomfortable “we just watched it happen” noise.
Simone: He dropped him like a stone!
Lunam: That’s desperation becoming decisive.
Logan doesn’t pin immediately. He looks down at Vincent, chest heaving, eyes wide, then glances at the chair still waiting near center ring. He drags Vincent up by the arms, double underhook secured, and positions him with grim intention. Vincent’s hands twitch, trying to fight, trying to find balance. His legs betray him.
Logan lifts.
HOPE ENDS – double underhook impaler DDT – driving Vincent down onto the steel chair with a sickening impact. Vincent bounces and spills off the chair, limp and wrecked. Logan hooks the leg, pressing down with everything he has left.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!!
Justin: Here is your winner, and NEW SCW Roulette Champion, LOGAN HUNTER!
Logan sits up with the title handed into his grasp and he clutches it like proof that the last year wasn’t a fluke. Brooke slides in, stroking his shoulder and pointing him toward the hard cam as Marissa lingers at the ropes, grin gone now that the violence has fully swallowed the joke.
Simone: Logan said this championship was stolen from him. Tonight he tore it out of Vincent’s hands.
Lunam: And Vincent Lyons Jr. Unstable, proud, simmering, just got humiliated in the most public way possible. That is going to echo.
Logan stands over Vincent for a long beat, belt raised, then leans down close and mouths the words he promised. “I command thee, KNEEL!”
Then he turns and exits with Brooke at his side, the Roulette Championship held high, while Vincent remains on the mat, one hand slowly curling into the canvas, eyes open, jaw clenched, absorbing the loss like a toxin he’s going to make someone else drink later.
A roving camera person approaches the dressing room where Bill Barnhart, including his wife Bea, and their English Bulldog Iris, are hanging out until it is time for Bill to make his way to the wrestling ring for his match against LJ Kasey. When the camera person is at the dressing room door they knock and politely ask if they can come inside the dressing room to air some last minute comments from Bill and Bea Barnhart until Bill’s match begins. Bill and Bea are happy to invite the camera person into their dressing room and once the camera person tells them that they are starting to broadcast their comments Bill and Bea start presenting information for the viewers.
Bill: This is going to be one hell of a fun match for me to beat the hell out of LJ Kasey. Why? Because he is a whining little punk and after I get done destroying him once again he will finally stop his whining and go into hiding.
Bea: I will be at ringside officially serving as the Manager for Bill. My job as Manager in his corner is to ensure that the Kasey family does not purchase others to run into the ring and gang up on Bill. If LJ is honestly as good of a wrestler as he thinks he is then he would not have to purchase protection. And, of course, I have permission to bring Iris to ringside while I am doing my job as the Manager for Bill. It never hurts to have another pair of eyes watching for the cowards to come out and try to attack Bill during his match.
Bill: That is all I want to say for now. What remains for me to talk about will be done by my actions in the ring against LJ Kasey. Tonight I put an end to the run-ins, backstage attacks, and other horrible things the Kasey family has perpetrated over the years and I will be happy to rid Sin City Wrestling of that vile family forever!
Bea informs the camera person that they are done with their pre-match comments and that the remainder of their talking will be presented through Bill’s actions during his match against LJ Kasey. At that comment by Bea the camera person calls into the studio to inform them to cut the feed to his camera as Bill and Bea are done with their pre-match comments.
They hadn’t made it ten feet before a familiar voice cut through the backstage noise like a blade wrapped in glitter and caffeine.
Bella: Oh my GOD, look who the hell finally decided to show up!
Miles didn’t even have time to turn fully before Bella Madison barreled toward them, dressed in full gear, hair braided, eyeliner razor-sharp. Pure Bella energy, confident, chaotic, sharp-tongued, and loud enough to register on seismic equipment. She skidded to a stop — then immediately softened when her eyes landed on Carter, zeroing in on the faint remnants of stress and exhaustion etched into his features.
Bella: Hey... you good?
HBCarter: I’m upright and not in a hospital bed, so... good enough.
Bella nodded, then leaned in and wrapped an arm around him carefully, mindful of the soreness still lingering.
Bella: You scared the absolute shit out of all of us, ya know. Don’t do that again. I’ve got a whole match to worry about tonight and I don’t need your near-kidnapping added to my anxiety playlist.
Carter gave a rough, tired laugh.
HBCarter: I’ll, uh... try to schedule my trauma better next time.
Bella: Well, if anything maybe later at the after party, where we will all be toasting this night, we’ll just get drunk.
HBCarter: Sounds better than than freaking out at every turn.
Bella swatted his arm lightly, then turned on Miles, with her eyes narrowing.
Bella: And you. Look at you pretending you’ve slept this week.
Miles: Three hours. Total. Thank you for pointing that out.
Bella: Oh wow. A whole nap. Amazingly heroic there Kasey. You know, I should send you my study that I did in college about how a lack of sleep affects your body as well as your brain.
Before Miles could retort, chaos returned around the corner, Kevin half dragging, half steering Connor down the hall. Connor froze on sight of Bella like a deer spotting a celebrity in the wild. His jaw dropped.
Connor: Holy shit... that’s Bella... THE Bella... Oh my GOD—
Kevin slapped a hand over his mouth.
Kevin: Please stop announcing it like she’s Bigfoot.
Bella stepped forward with a broad grin.
Bella: Well, hello boys. This must be the infamous Connor that I’ve been hearing so much about.
Connor made a noise no human adult should ever make in public. Miles nudged Carter with his elbow.
Miles: He’s about two seconds from fainting.
Carter gave a weak laugh.
HBCarter: Again with the adorable.
Connor gulped and reached out to shake her hand, but ended up grabbing it like he was afraid she’d vanish if he didn’t hold tight.
Connor: H-hi... I’m... you’re... I mean— you’re awesome. You’re really awesome. Like stupid awesome.
Bella blinked, then cackled.
Bella: Relax, kid. I promise I won't bite unless the booking says so.
Kevin facepalms as Connor stutters and stammers.
Kevin: He’s broken. You broke him.
Bella: What? He’s cute. Like a golden retriever who discovered caffeine. And don’t worry Kev, I have the same effect on my husband.
Connor nodded vigorously, absolutely taking that as a compliment. Bella tilted her head slightly, studying him.
Bella: Hey, you see Crystal walking around? Hide behind a heavy object.... Or Miles. Same thing.
Miles: Wow. So rude.
Bella: And yet...Accurate.
Then she turned back to Carter, expression softening again.
Bella: For real... I’m glad you’re here. Really glad.
Carter swallowed hard and nodded.
HBCarter: Me too.
Bella clapped her hands once.
Bella: Anyway, I gotta go scream at wardrobe because apparently they forgot I’m not built like a stick figure and tried to hand me shorts that would start a riot.
She pointed a finger at Connor.
Bella: And you.... Don’t touch pyro. Unless you want to go home without eyebrows.
Connor: Understood. Eyebrows secured. No touching anything that explodes.
Bella laughed, gave Miles a shoulder pat, and marched off muttering about seamstresses and respecting thighs.
Miles watched her go and exhaled.
Miles: You know there are times I miss her brand of chaos being around.
HBCarter: Same.
Connor, still staring after her like she was a mythological creature, whispered:
Connor: I think... I just met a superhero.
Kevin rolled his eyes but smiled.
Kevin: If you think that was her at full capacity, you’re nowhere near ready, dude.
Justin: And your next match is the DOG COLLAR match, coming to the ring first from Lawrenceville, Georgia, BULLDOG Bill Barnhart.
“Raise Your Glass by Pink” hits the speakers and we see Bill Barnhart walk out from the backstage area holding a pink glass chalice in his hand. He is followed by his wife and Manager, Bea Barnhart, who is leading their English Bulldog Iris by a pink leash attached to her pink diamond-studded collar. When the song comes to the lyrics RAISE YOUR GLASS Bill Barnhart raises the chalice into the air. The crowd gives a mixed reaction to Barnhart. The three make their way to the ring where Bill hands the chalice to Bea so she can keep watch on it until the match is over. Bill enters the ring then walks around the ring playing the crowd before settling into a corner.
Justin: And his opponent, from Middleton, UK, LJ Kasey!!!!!!!
The arena plunges into darkness, leaving only the pulsating glow of neon lights that flicker in sync with the opening notes of "Kingslayer" by Bring Me The Horizon (feat. BABYMETAL). A single spotlight pierces the shadows, illuminating the stage as smoke billows out like an ominous tide.
LJ Kasey emerges, his long black-and-gold jacket flaring out like wings as the hood obscures his face. The camera zooms in, capturing a glint of determination in his shadowed eyes. The crowd roars in recognition of the young, daring British sensation. He pauses at the top of the ramp, slowly pulling back his hood to reveal a smirk that borders on defiance.
The song's tempo shifts, and LJ Kasey matches its energy, striding down the ramp with an unshakable confidence. He slaps a few outstretched hands from fans but never breaks his piercing stare aimed directly at Bill Barnhart, who stands waiting in the ring.
LJ Kasey reaches the base of the ramp, unbuckling his jacket with one fluid motion. He tosses it to the side, revealing his gear: a sleek, gold-accented ensemble that gleams under the lights. He takes a step back and then sprints forward, launching himself onto the apron with a flawless leap.
He grabs the top rope, his eyes never leaving Bill Barnhart, and in one smooth motion, slingshots himself into the ring. Landing in a crouch, LJ Kasey slowly rises to his feet, spreading his arms wide to soak in the electric energy of the crowd.
DING DING DING!
The bell rings, and the sound of steel immediately echoes through the arena as both men feel the weight of the dog collars settle around their necks. The thick chain between Bill Barnhart and LJ Kasey hangs heavily, scraping against the canvas as they begin to move. There is no posturing, no feeling-out process. This match has been building for weeks, and both men understand exactly what this moment represents.
Lunam: That bell is more than just the start of a match. It is the end of weeks of torment.
Simone: Three straight shows, Lunam. Three times Bill Barnhart attacked LJ Kasey from behind, cost him matches, and put him in the hospital. Tonight, there is nowhere to hide and nowhere to run.
Barnhart explodes forward the instant the bell rings, yanking the chain with violent force and dragging Kasey straight into a crushing forearm to the jaw. The impact snaps Kasey’s head to the side, and he stumbles backward, already favoring the ribs and shoulder that were heavily taped after last week’s assault. Barnhart wastes no time. He wraps the chain around his fist and drives a brutal punch into Kasey’s midsection, knocking the wind out of him.
Simone: That is the same rib area Bill targeted when he sent LJ to the hospital. Barnhart knows exactly what he is doing.
Kasey doubles over, gasping for air, but Barnhart grabs him by the collar and hurls him to the mat with a heavy body slam. The chain rattles violently as Kasey hits the canvas. Barnhart stays on him, dragging him back to his feet and grinding his forearm across Kasey’s face, pressing down hard as if trying to erase him.
Lunam: Barnhart is not trying to win yet. He is trying to punish LJ.
Kasey fights back with pure instinct. He throws a sharp roundhouse kick that catches Barnhart clean on the jaw and forces him to take a step back. Another kick follows, then another, each one landing with more urgency than power. Barnhart is driven back toward the ropes, and Kasey surges forward, delivering a running lariat that finally takes the larger man off his feet.
The crowd comes alive as Barnhart crashes to the mat. Kasey grips the chain and hauls Barnhart back up, slamming his face into the turnbuckle with a vicious running snake eyes. Barnhart staggers out of the corner, and Kasey quickly climbs the ropes despite the chain pulling against his neck. He launches himself forward and plants Barnhart face first into the mat with a diving cutter. Kasey immediately hooks the leg for a cover.
ONE!
TWO!
Barnhart kicks out with authority.
Barnhart rolls to his knees, anger etched across his face. He surges forward, grabs Kasey’s arm, and twists it sharply, dropping Kasey to one knee as the pressure bites into the shoulder.
Simone: Here we go. This is Bill Barnhart’s wheelhouse.
Barnhart wrenches the arm again, forcing Kasey down, and snaps him into a tight hammerlock. With horrifying ease, Barnhart lifts Kasey off the mat and holds him there, torque ripping through the already damaged shoulder. The pressure is relentless. Barnhart Shoulder Breaker. Kasey screams in pain as his body hangs suspended. His legs kick wildly, and for a brief moment it looks like the match might end right there.
Lunam: That shoulder was injured in the last ambush. This is extremely dangerous.
Refusing to quit, Kasey twists his hips and rolls forward, dragging Barnhart down with him and breaking the hold in a desperate scramble. Both men collapse to the mat, breathing heavily as the chain settles between them.
Barnhart is the first to rise. He stalks Kasey, grabs him by the hair, and throws him face first into the canvas with a snap. Barnhart positions himself and sits back, pulling Kasey’s arms and neck upward as he locks in his own variation of the Camel Clutch. He leans back hard, compressing the spine and bending the neck at an unnatural angle.
Simone: Bill put LJ in this exact position two weeks ago, right before taking him out, Bill is hellbent on destroying the Kasey family.
Kasey’s face contorts in agony as he claws at the mat, searching for anything to relieve the pressure. His fingers finally hook the chain. With a roar fueled by desperation and pain, he yanks forward with everything he has. Barnhart loses his balance and is forced to release the hold. Kasey rolls away, clutching his back and ribs, barely able to pull himself up. Barnhart charges again, but Kasey explodes upward out of nowhere, catching Barnhart and sending both men crashing to the mat with a Spanish Fly. The crowd erupts as both competitors lie motionless for several seconds.
Lunam: Where did he find that? LJ Kasey refuses to stay down.
Slowly, both men begin to stir. Kasey rises first, adrenaline pushing him past the pain. He spins Barnhart around and drives him into the mat with a reverse spin Michinoku Driver. Kasey collapses into the cover.
ONE!
TWO!
Barnhart kicks out again.
Kasey slams the mat in frustration, his body clearly breaking down. He pulls Barnhart up and snaps on the Dragon Sleeper, wrapping his arms tightly around Barnhart’s neck and shoulders.
Simone: Dragon’s Keep could end this.
Barnhart struggles violently, his face turning red as he reaches back blindly. His hand finds the chain, and he smashes it backward into Kasey’s face again and again until the hold finally breaks. Barnhart stumbles up and crushes Kasey with a brutal lariat that flips him inside out. Barnhart drags Kasey back to his feet and delivers a devastating piledriver. The impact is sickening. Barnhart hooks the legs.
ONE!
TWO!
Kasey barely kicks out.
Lunam: He kicked out, but how much more can he take.
Barnhart is furious now. He yanks Kasey up and twists the arm into another hammerlock, preparing to end things the same way he has ended so many others.
Simone: This is how Bill ended matches and careers.
That is when Bea Barnhart climbs onto the apron. She grabs the chain and pulls it tight, choking Kasey while screaming instructions to her husband.
Lunam: There it is. Bea Barnhart inserting herself again.
Simone: Always bitching about others getting involved then doing so themselves.. classy.
The referee rushes over, arguing with Bea and trying to pry her hands away. Suddenly, Alexandra Calaway storms down the ramp and slides into the ring. Bea turns just in time for Alexandra to grab her by the hair and yank her violently off the apron. Bea crashes to the floor. Alexandra stands over her, pointing back toward the ring.
Lunam: She is not chasing her. She is making her watch.
Simone: Alexandra doing the right thing and removing Bill's assistance.
Alexandra drags Bea to the barricade and forces her to face the ring, holding her there as the referee ejects Bea from ringside. Alexandra refuses to let her look away. Inside the ring, Barnhart turns, momentarily distracted. Kasey rips free and springs forward, catching Barnhart flush with the Blast From the Past. The OsCutter connects cleanly, and Barnhart crashes face first into the mat. Kasey crawls into the cover.
ONE!
TWO!
Barnhart kicks out.
Simone: Bill survived, but Bea is watching this slip away.
LJ Kasey slowly pulls himself up, blood on his lip and pain etched across his face. He looks directly at Bea at ringside, then back at Barnhart. They rise together and trade heavy punches, each blow slower than the last. LJ Kasey ducks a swing and lands a sharp roundhouse kick. Then another. Barnhart staggers. LJ Kasey pulls him in and drives him down with a brutal brainbuster that shakes the ring. Kasey does not cover. He pulls Barnhart up one final time and twists the arm into a hammerlock, mirroring everything Bill has done to him over the past three weeks.
Lunam: This is justice.
Kasey spins and plants Barnhart head first into the mat with the Kingslayer, a spinning hammerlock tombstone piledriver. Kasey collapses into the cover as Alexandra forces Bea to watch.
Lunam: KINGSLAYER!!!! KINGSLAYER!!!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Justin: Your winner, LJ KASEY!!!!
Lunam: He survived the ambushes, the hospital, the mind games, and tonight, LJ Kasey finally got his revenge.
Simone: And Bea Barnhart had to watch every second of it. No interference. No escape.
Alexandra releases Bea and slides back into the ring. She kneels beside LJ as the referee raises his hand. Alexandra gently unbuckles the dog collar from around LJ’s neck, stands, and walks to the ropes. She throws the collar directly at Bea Barnhart. The steel clatters at Bea’s feet. Alexandra turns back to LJ, helps him to his feet, and pulls him close. In the center of the ring, with Bill Barnhart broken on the mat and Bea powerless at ringside, Alexandra kisses LJ as the crowd erupts.
Following a brutal Dog Collar match, a bloodied LJ Kasey has his arm raised in victory by the referee as the crowd is cheering loudly for his performance here at Inception! LJ thanks the fans for their support of them, and turns to go thank the opposite side-
SPEAR!!!
LJ Kasey was just laid out by a masked attacker! The masked man stands by the side of the fallen LJ Kasey… and slowly removes his mask to a sound of disbelief from the crowd. The man who survived the worst imaginable, the man who promised to do right by the people till the end, and the man who recently retired from pro wrestling has just attacked LJ Kasey….
Simone: Brandon Hendrix!!!
Brandon stands over the fallen LJ Kasey, and with a look of disgust on his face, grabs him by the hair and pulls him up to his feet. LJ is two hundred and ten pounds, and Brandon pulled him up with ease! Brandon kicked LJ in the gut before tossing him into the ropes and tossing him up in the air and catching him in a powerbomb position. Brandon then lifts LJ up an additional two to three feet in the air and walks to the ropes with him like that….
Lunam: BRANDON JUST POWERBOMBED LJ KASEY OUT OF THE RING!!! LJ WAS FOLDED LIKE A OMULETTEE!!!!!
Brandon stares down at the broken down, bloodied man who did nothing to deserve this at all. Brandon rests his back on the ropes and backflips his way to the floor, landing on both feet by LJ, who is barely moving. Hendrix grabs LJ by the throat and pulls him up to his feet once again and drags him over to the announcers table. He looks deep into the eyes of the bloodied LJ Kasey and then lifts him up in the air and chokeslams him right through the table, like he was trying to drive the rising star through the ground! The crowd starts booing loud as refs get in between Brandon and his fallen victim before backing away slowly. Refs are helping LJ up to his feet. Half the refs are trying to escort Brandon out, while the others are trying to aid Kasey out of dan-
Lunam: SPEAR THROUGH THE BARRICADE!!!
Brandon took off from the refs and sprinted full speed around the ring and nearly ripped LJ in half with a spear through the barricade! Brandon pops to his feet and starts pushing refs back as he immediately grabs Kasey by the head and forces him back to his feet. Dragging the unconscious man near the broken announcers table…..
Simone: MAFIA TO THE FLOOR BELOW!!!
Brandon placed LJ in a double under hook and lifted him in the air and spiked him down on the floor below! Brandon stands over a destroyed LJ Kasey, the fans all pouring down boos to Brandon Hendrix, who's finally walking away as Alexandra is down on the floor, checking on her fiance. Brandon rips his black shirt in half, letting it dangle from his body as he walks up the ramp, with fans booing and flipping Brandon off. On the top of the ramp, interviewer Pussy Willow walks out.
Pussy Willow: Brandon! Brandon! Can I get a word?? Why did you just come out here and attack a defenseless LJ Kasey after his brutal dog collar match??
Brandon stops where he is and turns to Willow. He slowly steps forward and moves in on her, the anger never leaving his eyes. Before Brandon can do anything drastic, he is stopped by a hand. Brandon looks at who the hand belongs to and stands down. A man in a suit and tie steps in and takes the microphone.
Angelo Caito: Ladies and Gentlemen, my name is Angelo Caito and I'm the proud manager and mentor to the monster that stands in your way right now, Brandon Hendrix. Now, you ask why, but it's obvious. Brandon Hendrix has been disrespected by SCW since his return. Two matches against a low class loser like Billy Barhart, and only given title matches when he wasn't one hundred percent. So Brandon took those losses as insults and wanted to retire. But I refused to let that happen. So, me and the Chairman have made… a deal. SCW, take a look at the highest paid superstar that you will only see whenever he wants to show up- the Greatest Professional Wrestler on the planet today! The Baddest MFer to ever step into the ring! The Monster! The Destroyer! The Legend! Brandon Hendrix!
The crowd boos as Brandon stands behind Angelo, the same intensity on his face he had the entire night.
Angelo Caito: And why LJ Kasey? You've been making a small name for yourself here, kid. You have the tools to be a mid mid division wrestler. But you were merely a vessel to a message. Brandon Hendrix is here and he's finally willing to end anyone's career that gets in his way of becoming World Champion. It's not personal, kid, just business, but if you want to make it personal, then Brandon can bury you with the rest of your ancestors. SCW! The time has come. Bow To Your King.
Angelo turns around and grabs Brandon by the wrist and holds his arm up to more boos from the crowd as the segment comes to an end.
We cut to the backstage area at Inception VIII where we see the Bombshell Roulette Champion Alicia Lukas and her challenger Alexandra Callaway as they wait to see what their stipulation will be.
Simone: It’s time for our first Bombshell Roulette Title Match of the year as Alicia Lukas is set to defend against Alexandra Callaway in a return match from High Stakes.
Lunam: Alezandra has had a lot of success lately, including in her love life, but can that translate to becoming a three time Bombshell Roulette Champion?
Ms. Rocky Mountains: Ready ladies?
The two women nod and Ms. Rocky Mountains spins the wheel, it almost stops in Mistletoe Mayhem Kiss Off Match…….
Simone: WHY IS THAT STILL ON THE WHEEL?!
Lunam: My guess? Because the wheel hasn’t been updated since the Christmas special.
Luckily for both women? The wheel nudges onto the next stip.
Ms. Rocky Mountains: Last Bombshell Standing!
Simone: Oh thank god!
Lunam: Only way to win is to make sure the opponent can’t get up for a ten count!
Ms. Rocky Mountains: Good luck ladies!
Both women walk off to prepare as the scene fades.
Simone: Welcome back to Inception VIII and our first Bombshell Roulette Title Match of the year sees a return match from Inception VIII as Alicia Lukas defends against Alexandra Callaway!
Lunam: Alexandra has scored two huge back to back wins in the lead up to this match, first against the reigning Bombshell Internet Champion Victoria Lyons and then against the former World Bombshell Champion Frankie Holiday, time will tell if that momentum’s enough for her to win the Bombshell Roulette Title for the third time!
Simone: And it’s Last Bombshell Standing folks! Let’s take it to Justin!
Justin: LADIES AND GENTLEMEN THE FOLLOWING CONTEST IS SCHEDULED FOR ONE FALL AND IT IS FOR THE SCW BOMBSHELL ROULETTE CHAMPIONSHIP! THANKS TO A SPIN OF THE WHEEL WE KNOW THAT IT’LL BE A LAST BOMBSHELL STANDING MATCH!
The lights go down and "Cry Little Sister" by Lyric Noel starts to play. The arena is filled with Red and lights and fog. The Silhouette of Alexandra can be seen at the top of the ramp. She poses on the top of the ramp and as the beat drops, she starts to make her way down the ramp, towards the ring. Stopping halfway down the ramp, she stops looking out over the crowd, before continuing on. She smirks seeing some of the signs people made a cocky smirk crosses her face.
Justin: Introducing the challenger, from DALLAS, TX.. ALEXANDRA CALAWAY!!!!!"
Finishing her walk down the ramp, she climbs onto the ring apron and up onto the turnbuckle. She slips into the ring and poses on the ropes, leaning forward on the ropes, sometimes talking shit with people in front row. She watches up the ramp, messing with her hair as she waits for her opponent.
Simone: Alexandra is a hardcore legend but will that translate to success against Alicia?
Lunam: Don’t forget, Alexandra also just got engaged to LJ Kasey so she’s got personal momentum as well!
Justin: And her opponent!
"I still wear this crown"
"I still wear this crown" By Kittie hits as Alicia steps out with a black hoodie over her upper half with the hood up over her long blond hair. She stands on the stage and reaches up flipping the hood back and looking down at the ring before pointing her finger guns with a smirk. She makes her way down to the ring.
Justin: From Atlanta, Geogia…
And Alexandra Callaway cuts off both Alicia and Justin by nailing the champ with a Baseball Slide Dropkick and following that up with a Springboard Cross Body! Drew immediately calls for the bell as Alexandra reigns down fists on Alicia.
Simone: And Alexandra isn’t even waiting for the opening bell before she takes the fight to Alicia!
Lunam: She’s clearly learned from their first match at High Stakes!
DING DING DING!
Once the bell rings Drew, knowing that the stipulation means that there’s not much he can do to chastise Alexandra, leaves the ring as Alexandra lets up on the punches and starts searching under the ring for weapons, settling for a table and a steel chair, Alexandra slides the table into the ring and waits for Alicia to get back to her feet, whacking the champion across the face with the chair once she does and busting Alicia open in the process.
Simone: Not even ten minutes into the match and Alicia is bleeding!
Lunam: Surprised those punches from Alexandra didn’t spill blood instead!
With Alicia apparently seeing bloody stars Drew starts the first ten count of the match!
ONE!
TWO!
Alexandra senses that she still hasn’t done enough to keep Alicia down and starts measuring the champ up for another shot.
FIVE!
SIX!
Alicia gets up just before seven and Alexandra charges in for another shot only to get the chair Superkicked into her face, busting open the Texan in the process.
Simone: Blood has been spilled between a Texan and a Georgian, there are many Southern Cuisine jokes I can make here.
Lunam: I’m staying out of that for my own safety!
Alexandra is clearly rocked by the botched chair shot and Drew starts another count!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Alicia shakes her head before rolling into the ring to set up the table that Alexndra slid in earlier. The intentions being crystal clear.
FOUR!
FIVE!
SIX!
Alexandra starts to stir as Alicia props the table into the corner.
SEVEN!
And Alexandra is up just after seven, rolling into the ring to stare down Alcia, sure enough, when Alicia turns around Alexandra spears her into the propped table.
Simone: Someone was bound to go through that thing eventually and Alicia ended up being that somebody.
Lunam: I think it took a bit out of Alexandra too!
Both women are down and Drew starts counting them both.
ONE!
TWO!
Simone: I’m not sure if either of them will make the count, they both hit that table hard!
THREE!
FOUR!
Lunam: Maybe but between Alexandra’s Hardcore Match experience and Alicia’s experience in general they still have a long road ahead!
FIVE!
SIX!
Alexandra starts to stir and manages to get to her feet first, she turns around and sees Alicia is still down among the broken remnants of a table.
SEVEN!
EIGHT!
And Alicia gets up, pushing aside some broken table pieces before getting to her feet and throwing Alexandra out of the ring.
Simone: Perhaps Alicia needs a break.
Lunam: Whether she’ll get it from Drew her should be okay!
Alexandra rolls out of the round and Alicia follows her out, once they are outside the ring Alexandra is ready as she clocks Alicia with a punch before throwing her against a barricade that conveniently has no fans behind it, Alexandra tries to spear the champ through the barricade but Alicia blocks it and sends the Texan into the crowd with a belly to belly suplex!
Simone: Alicia is showing why she’s a former champion!
Lunam: Which is bad news for Alexandra!
Drew starts his count.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
And Alicia heads into the road and the two women brawl up to a balcony where there’s tables set up beneath! Alexandra throws Alicia towards the railing but Alicia reverses! Alexandra goes over the railing but lands on the edge ONLY FOR ALICIA TO SPEAR ALEXANDRA OFF THE BALCONY, GOING DOWN WITH HER AND THROUGH THE TABLES! Drew starts his count.
ONE!
TWO!
Alicia starts to stir.
THREE!
FOUR!
FIVE!
SEVEN!
Callaway tries to get up but collapses.
EIGHT!
NINE!
Alicia is up!
TEN!
DING DING DING
Justin: HERE IS YOUR WINNER AND STILL SCW BOMBSHELL ROULETTE CHAMPON, ALICIA LUKAS!
Simone: Alicia retains in a brutal match!
Lunam: Who’s next?
Alicia celebrates while Drew checks on Alexandra.
It begins backstage and opens in the office of SCW General Manager Evelyn Hall. The roar of the MGM Grand Garden Arena bleeds through the walls in a low, constant thunder, punctuated by the occasional spike of cheering that rattles the framed posters behind her desk. Evelyn Hall stands in front of the SCW backdrop, calm and polished, hands folded around a microphone like she’s addressing the whole company at once. A monitor off to the side shows the live feed from the ring, flickering with movement and bright lights.
Evelyn Hall: Good evening, everyone. I hope you’re enjoying Inception VIII so far because Las Vegas has been absolutely electric tonight.
She smiles, letting the sound of the crowd in the distance do the punctuation for her.
Evelyn Hall: Earlier, I promised you two announcements. You’ve heard the first, and now, this is the second.
Her expression shifts slightly, not stern, not cold, just a touch more official. The kind of tone that says this isn’t a tease. This is policy.
Evelyn Hall: 2026 is a time for change. For evolution. For SCW to step forward into exactly what it’s meant to be.
She gestures subtly, as if motioning beyond the walls, past the office, past the hallway, all the way out to the ring.
Evelyn Hall: And with that being said, I am very pleased to gift all SCW champions with a very special surprise.
A beat. A controlled pause, perfectly timed.
Evelyn Hall: Brand new championship belts.
She lets the words sit, like a bell that’s still ringing.
Evelyn Hall: After each championship title match this evening, the winners will be presented with their brand new title belt. And the originals, from the past fifteen years, will be officially retired.
Evelyn’s smile returns, proud and certain, like she’s closing a chapter with ceremony rather than nostalgia.
Evelyn Hall: Thank you for being part of this moment with us. Now, let’s get back to the show.
Justin: Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is the LYONS DEN MATCH!
The crowd cheers!
Justin: In a Lyons Den Match, this ring will be surrounded on all sides by The Lions, our designated lumberjacks, and it is their duty to make sure that any wrestler who strays outside of the ring is returned back inside! No breathers. No retreats. No hiding. If you leave the Den, you’re getting thrown right back into it! And this match can only be won by submission, by knockout, or by the referee stopping the match.
The arena lights shift and the entrance music hits in sequence as the first lumberjack steps out onto the stage, rolling his shoulders like he’s already annoyed that he has to do this.
Ryan Keys strides with purpose, slapping the hands of fans along the aisle, jaw set like he’s not here for theatrics, he’s here to keep order.
Liam Davis steps out with a smirk that doesn’t reach his eyes, soaking in the boos like they’re applause. He points at the ring like it owes him money, then slowly stalks down the ramp, talking trash to anyone close enough to hear it.
The World Champion Helluva Bottom Carter emerges with that measured swagger, belt gleaming, eyes locked forward. Carter doesn’t rush. He paces like a king walking through a hostile court, acknowledging the roar with a nod that says he’s heard louder, and lived through worse. He makes his way down and circles the ring, taking stock of every side like he’s reading a battlefield.
Miles Kasey bursts out with energy, quick hands slapping the air, pointing toward the ring, then toward the crowd like he’s feeding off the electricity. He’s got that champion shine too, but where Carter looks like a warlord, Miles looks like a fighter who’s already decided he’s not going to be intimidated by any of this.
Vincent Lyons Junior walks out like he’s arriving at a private event he paid for. Chin high, eyes narrowed, he gestures around the arena like it belongs to him, then saunters toward the ring with deliberate confidence, making sure the camera catches every ounce of smug.
Joshua Acquin comes out with intensity, scanning the ramp and the ring like he’s already planning where the danger will come from. He points once toward the ring, no showboating, then heads down with purpose, stepping up to ringside and taking his place like a soldier on assignment.
“Bulldog” Bill Barnhart stomps out with that thick-necked menace, jaw clenched, eyes dead ahead. No smiles. No waves. He cracks his knuckles on the stage, then marches down the ramp like he’s coming to collect teeth. When he reaches ringside, he leans close to the apron and glares into the ring like he’s choosing where to start the damage.
Logan Hunter steps out wearing that championship like it’s proof he can get away with anything. He smirks, spreads his arms, then points at the belt like, say it louder. He takes his time down the aisle, eyes flicking from one side of the crowd to the other, enjoying every bit of hatred like it’s fuel.
One by one, the Lions take their positions around the six-sided ring, spacing out, forming a living fence. Carter and Miles stand on opposite sides with their titles catching the light. Ryan Keys keeps his eyes forward, calm but ready. Davis and Barnhart look like they’re waiting for an excuse. Vincent Lyons Jr. and Logan Hunter exchange a knowing glance. Acquin plants his feet like he’s anchoring the whole side of the Den by willpower alone.
Justin: Introducing first, accompanied by Carleigh Annis, from Detroit, Michigan, weighing in at one hundred ninety pounds, BRAYDEN WILLIAMS!
“Forever” by Drake begins to blast across the speakers, and the reaction is immediate, loud boos raining down like the arena just collectively decided to reject him on principle. Brayden Hilton bursts through the curtain like he’s late for trouble, Carleigh Annis right beside him, chin raised and smiling like the hate is the whole point. Brayden soaks it in for half a second, then flashes that grin and throws both middle fingers high, leaning into the noise as if he can conduct it. He takes off in a sprint down the ramp, quick, arrogant, restless, never slowing, never acknowledging a single person who isn’t booing him.
Carleigh isn’t far behind, jawing at fans as she walks with that deliberate swagger, stopping just long enough to mouth off at a front-row section that’s screaming in her face. She flips them off too, twice, with emphasis, then turns back toward the ring, clapping for her man like he’s already won. Brayden doesn’t even bother with the stairs; he slides straight inside and rockets up into a kip-up, instantly on his feet like he’s made of springs. He throws one arm up like a conquering hero, then snaps into a clean backflip just to prove he can. The crowd boos harder, and Brayden’s smile widens as if he’s feeding on it.
He paces the ring with that hyper, prowling energy, bouncing on the balls of his feet, rolling his shoulders, talking loudly toward the hard camera as if he wants the whole world to hear him. Then he drapes himself across the top rope like he’s bored, like the match is an inconvenience, one arm hanging limp, face twisted into smug amusement.
Lunam: Look at him, Simone, he’s struttin’ about like he owns the place, like rules don’t apply to him. That’s Brayden Williams in a nutshell: all flash, all mouth, and a nasty streak a mile wide.
Simone: And that mouth has been running nonstop since he got here. He’s been calling Eddie Lyons “lazy, ” questioning his work ethic, saying Eddie doesn’t train hard enough, doesn’t want it enough, meanwhile Brayden’s the guy who’ll cut corners and cheat if it gets him one step closer to the spotlight.
Lunam: Aye, and the worst part is he’s been twistin’ the knife about that match with Alexander Raven, blamin’ Eddie, sayin’ Eddie “cost himself, ” when everybody saw Brayden’s nonsense get in the way and turn the whole thing sideways. He’s been chirpin’ all week like Eddie’s some kind of disappointment, and that’s the sort o’ talk that gets a lad punched in the teeth.
Brayden leans over the ropes, shouting something toward the aisle like he’s daring Eddie to come hurry up and get embarrassed. Carleigh applauds him from ringside, still mouthing off at the crowd, playing hype-woman and agitator all at once. Brayden throws his arms wide, asking for more boos, then points to his head like he’s a genius and laughs, loud enough to be heard even over the music fading out.
Justin: And his opponent! From Baltimore, Maryland, weighing in at two hundred thirty pounds, “UNBREAKABLE” EDDIE LYONS!
“CLOUDS” by NF hits, and the tone in the building changes like someone dropped the lights a shade darker. A fog begins to spill across the stage, rolling low and thick, until the entrance looks like a stormfront creeping in. Then Eddie Lyons appears in the center of it, hoodie up, arms folded, still as a statue. He doesn’t play to the crowd at first. He doesn’t jaw back. He just stands there, looking down toward the ring like he’s measuring distance and deciding how much damage he’s willing to do to make a point.
For a long beat, Eddie doesn’t move, only the fog does, curling around his boots and drifting past him like the air itself is waiting. Then he shoots a fist into the air, sharp and decisive, and with that motion he pulls the hoodie down. His expression is calm, but it’s the calm of a man who’s already accepted the fight. He steps forward and starts down the ramp with purpose, tagging a few outstretched hands along the way, not lingering, not showing off, just acknowledging the people who are behind him.
Brayden’s grin tightens as Eddie approaches, the two locking eyes across the ring. Eddie reaches the steps and climbs with controlled intent, stepping between the ropes and walking toward center like he’s claiming the space without ever raising his voice. He extends his arms out to both sides, wide, steady, then drops to a knee and punches the mat with a solid thud that echoes through the six-sided ring. He rises and moves to his corner, rolling his shoulders once, eyes still fixed on Brayden as the fog dissipates behind him.
Simone: That’s the difference. Brayden needs the noise. Eddie doesn’t. Eddie Lyons brings a quiet intensity that makes you lean in, because you know when he finally snaps into motion, it’s going to be violent and it’s going to be efficient.
Lunam: I’m tellin’ ye now, Simone, mark it down, Eddie Lyons is a future world champion. He’s got the size, he’s got the fight, and he’s got that thing ye can’t teach, that stubborn, steel-spined refusal to quit. “Unbreakable” isn’t just a nickname, it’s a promise.
Simone: And he’s going to need every ounce of it tonight. Because in a Lyons Den Match, you can’t outrun the moment. The Lions will throw you back in whether you like it or not, and Brayden Williams lives for turning chaos into opportunity.
Referee Jasmine St. John steps between them, hands up, stern and focused. She checks Brayden first, Brayden smirking, raising his arms like he’s innocent, then checks Eddie, who keeps his eyes locked forward and breathes slow through his nose. Jasmine looks to each man, gives them a final warning with her posture alone, then turns and signals toward the timekeeper.
She steps back, raises her arm, and calls for the bell.
DING DING DING!
Brayden Williams explodes out of his corner like he was launched from a slingshot, not even giving Eddie Lyons a full breath to settle into his stance. He darts in with a feint, slides low, and snaps an armdrag takedown that yanks Eddie forward and down in one smooth, showy motion, then pops right back up with that cocky heel grin, hands out, soaking up the boos like they’re oxygen. Eddie scrambles to a knee, but Brayden is already sprinting off the ropes, springboard shortkicking him in the shoulder and jawline just enough to knock him back into the corner. Brayden follows, fast feet churning, and tries to chain a bronco buster immediately, but Eddie throws his forearms up and shoves him off mid-flight, forcing Brayden to land awkward and stumble two steps.
Simone: Brayden Williams is moving at a different speed tonight. He’s not trying to out-wrestle Eddie Lyons, he’s trying to overwhelm him before the bigger man can plant his feet.
Lunam: Aye, and that’s the danger of a wee daredevil like Brayden, he’ll nick ye with ten cuts before ye can even lift the blade, but Eddie’s got that weight and that power, if he catches him, it’s like gettin’ hit by a lorry.
Eddie surges out of the corner and throws a heavy running shoulder tackle that turns Brayden inside out, flipping him hard to the mat. Brayden scrambles, but Eddie keeps the pressure, hip toss, then another, snapping Brayden’s momentum into the canvas like a whip crack. Eddie grabs a wrist, yanks Brayden up, and drills an arm drag of his own, the crowd roaring at the change in tempo. Eddie stays on him with a side headlock takedown, cinching Brayden tight, grinding him down with that all-around, old-school control, forcing the speedster to fight from underneath instead of flying free.
Brayden wriggles, kicks, and finally shoots his legs up, snapping a headscissors and rolling Eddie forward. Eddie posts on his hands, tries to power out, but Brayden kips up into a second headscissors, scissoring Eddie’s head and snapping him through again. Eddie staggers, and Brayden takes advantage, sprinting in with a slingblade that drops Eddie flush onto his back. Brayden hits the ropes, leaps, and drives a somersault legdrop across Eddie’s chest with a little extra snap, then hooks the head for a quick Christo, almost like a mocking, flashy chinlock, just to force Eddie to carry his weight.
Simone: That’s Brayden’s style: don’t let Eddie get comfortable. He’s mixing the big risks with those grinding moments, trying to keep Eddie frustrated and a half-step behind.
Lunam: And don’t forget where we are, Simone, Lyons Den. Ye can’t run away, ye can’t breathe outside. If Brayden gets thrown out, the Lions are tossin’ him right back in like a bad pint.
Eddie muscles up with Brayden still clinging, pops him off with a sharp elbow, then cracks him with a gut punch into a European uppercut combo, thud, smack, crack, each strike heavier than the last. Brayden staggers backward, hands up, and Eddie grabs him and tosses him with a belly-to-belly suplex that sends Brayden skidding across the mat. Eddie follows with a vertical suplex, holding Brayden up for a second, just long enough for the crowd to rise, then dropping him with authority. Eddie covers out of instinct, but immediately catches himself and pulls back, remembering the rules, frustration flashing across his face like, “Right, can’t win like that.”
Brayden uses that split-second of confusion to roll to the ropes and slither to the floor, practically diving under the bottom rope like a thief escaping a guard. He stumbles into the Den, and immediately finds out the Den doesn’t have exits. Ryan Keys and Joshua Acquin step in, arms out, blocking him, while Carter and Miles Kasey loom behind like two champions serving as human walls.
Brayden points and argues, waving his hands like he’s negotiating a treaty, then tries to dart between them, Miles catches him by the shoulder and spins him back around. Brayden swings wild, but Carter doesn’t even flinch, and Keys and Acquin grab Brayden by the arms.
Simone: Brayden’s trying to reset on the outside and he can’t, those Lions are doing their job.
Lunam: Aye, and the faces out there? They’ll haul him back in like a misbehavin’ child. Brayden’s learnin’ quick: there’s no breathin’ room.
The face Lions shove Brayden forward, and he nearly trips as he’s tossed back into the ring under the bottom rope. He pops up angry, wiping his mouth, and immediately eats a running corner clothesline from Eddie that folds him in half against the turnbuckles. Eddie climbs in close and unleashes mounted punches in the corner, not wild, not reckless, measured, heavy shots, each one dragging a cheer from the crowd. Brayden tries to cover up, then slides out under Eddie’s legs and bolts again, only this time Eddie grabs him by the waistband and yanks him back, but Brayden turns the pull into a jumping neckbreaker, snapping Eddie down.
Brayden springs up and throws a superkick, Eddie catches it! Eddie traps the leg and tries to yank Brayden in for a spinebuster, but Brayden hops, twists, and spikes Eddie with a hurricanrana, snapping Eddie’s head down into the mat. Brayden rolls through, pops up, and hits a shining wizard to Eddie’s kneeling head, then screams out to the crowd with that smug “I told you so” expression. He hits the ropes and launches a lionsault, perfect arc, crashing across Eddie’s chest and stomach.
Eddie rolls, grabbing his midsection, but Brayden is relentless, yanking Eddie up and trying for a tilt-a-whirl DDT. Eddie blocks, keeps his balance, and instead hoists Brayden and launches him with a back body drop that sends Brayden soaring. Brayden lands on his feet for a split-second, tries to play it off, then Eddie snatches him and drills a snap powerslam, planting him hard enough that Brayden’s legs kick up.
Brayden, rattled, scrambles to the ropes again and bails out, only this time he doesn’t just retreat. He tries to escape, slipping between Logan Hunter and “Bulldog” Bill Barnhart on the outside like he’s hoping the heel Lions will part the sea for him. Logan smirks, and Barnhart steps forward.
Eddie follows out, ready to drag Brayden back, but Barnhart clubs Eddie from behind with a forearm across the upper back, and Logan Hunter adds a cheap stomp to the ribs.Vincent Lyons Junior steps in too, barking something sharp, and suddenly Eddie is surrounded by heel Lions throwing shots before they shove him back toward the ring like a sacrifice.
Simone: Hey! Hey, this is the ugly side of the Den! The heel Lions aren’t just “returning” Eddie, they’re softening him up!
Lunam: That’s a pack o’ hyenas out there, Simone, look at them! They’ll bite Eddie on the way in and then toss him back like nothin’ happened. And the faces have to stop it or Eddie’s cooked!
Ryan Keys and Joshua Acquin rush in, shoving Barnhart back and getting between Eddie and Logan, while Carter and Miles Kasey step closer, Miles pointing and shouting, Carter’s expression tightening. The heel Lions back off just enough to look innocent, hands up, smirking like they’ve done nothing but “their duty.”
Eddie drags himself to the apron and slides in, but Brayden is already springboarding, springboard crossbody, crashing into Eddie and driving him back down. Brayden scrambles to Eddie’s head and wrenches on a dragon sleeper attempt of his own, cinching Eddie’s throat and jaw, but Eddie’s too strong, he claws at Brayden’s hands, powers up, and backs him into the corner, smashing him spine-first into the turnbuckles until the hold breaks. Eddie stumbles out, and Brayden nails a low blow behind the referee’s back, sharp, sneaky, vicious. Eddie’s body locks up, his face contorting as he drops to a knee.
Simone: Oh come on! Brayden Williams just stole one right in front of the Lions and the ref didn’t see it!
Lunam: That’s the heel way, love, he’ll cheat with a smile and call it talent. Eddie’s in trouble now, ye can see the air leavin’ him.
Brayden capitalizes immediately, grabbing Eddie’s head for an ace crusher, snapping Eddie’s neck across his shoulder and bouncing him to the mat. Brayden hits the ropes and comes back with a diving heel kick that catches Eddie’s jaw, then tries to finish with a frog splash, he launches, spreads out, Eddie rolls! Brayden crashes ribs-first, the impact echoing through the arena. He clutches his side, gasping, and Eddie, still hurting, pushes to his feet with grit written into every movement.
Eddie hauls Brayden up and drills a spinebuster, driving him down like a spike into wood. Eddie doesn’t rush the follow-up; he stands over Brayden, breathing hard, shaking out the pain in his core, then yanks him up for a falling neckbreaker, snapping Brayden down and forcing him to sprawl. Eddie grabs Brayden’s wrist and tries to keep him inside, but Brayden fights like a cornered animal, biting at fingers, scrambling, and finally sliding out again, straight toward the heel side of the Den.
Barnhart reaches in for Eddie again, Acquin shoves him away, Logan Hunter tries to sneak a stomp, Miles Kasey gets between them and eats the brunt of the shove, stumbling back. Carter steps in and glares Barnhart down like thunder in human form, and Barnhart backs off with a sneer. The distraction gives Brayden a window, he slips back into the ring, sprints, and blasts Eddie with a missile dropkick as Eddie tries to climb back in.
Brayden senses blood and starts going for the stoppage. He stomps Eddie’s ribs, then drags him up and fires straight punches, more brawling than technical, before snapping an inverted atomic drop that jolts Eddie upward. Brayden catches him on the way down with a jumping neckbreaker, then hooks Eddie’s arm and spins into a double underhook tornado DDT attempt. Eddie blocks by sheer strength, planting his feet, then hoisting Brayden and dumping him with a gut-wrenching belly-to-belly suplex that sends Brayden sliding into the corner.
Eddie charges, Brayden gets a boot up, Eddie eats it but keeps coming, grabbing Brayden and throwing him across with a hip toss. Brayden pops up and tries a victory roll, rolling Eddie tight, but Eddie powers out and stands, grabbing Brayden by the head and hammering a rolling elbow that snaps Brayden’s skull sideways. Brayden stumbles, tries to rebound, and Eddie catches him with a running shoulder tackle that sends him tumbling through the ropes to the outside.
The face Lions are right there. Carter and Keys grab Brayden by the arms; Acquin points to the ring; Miles shouts at him to get back in. Brayden kicks and thrashes, trying to wriggle free, but Carter and Keys launch him back under the rope with a hard shove. Brayden slides in and immediately tries to springboard again, Eddie meets him mid-motion with a brutal running corner clothesline that knocks the wind out of him like a punch to the lungs. Eddie drags him away from the corner, then drops a heavy elbow drop across Brayden’s chest, not once but twice, each one more deliberate than flashy.
Simone: Eddie Lyons is turning this into a fight. He’s not trying to chase Brayden’s speed, he’s grinding him down, taking away the bounce in those legs.
Lunam: Aye, and once the legs are gone, the wee bird can’t fly. Ye take the spring out of Brayden and all that dazzle turns into panic.
Brayden tries to crawl to the ropes again, but Eddie grabs him from behind and locks his arms, Brayden panics, knowing what a strong grip means, and Eddie hauls him up, threatening another suplex. Brayden throws back elbows, lands one to the jaw, then breaks free and superkicks Eddie square in the mouth. Eddie staggers, wobbling, and Brayden rushes in for a spike hurricanrana again, Eddie catches him this time, arms locking around Brayden’s waist like a trap. Brayden’s eyes widen, realizing he’s been snared, and Eddie drives him down with a snap powerbomb motion, more of a slam, then immediately transitions, rolling behind and threading his arms under Brayden’s chin.
Eddie sits back, legs braced, and cinches in the PRIDELOCK, Dragon Sleeper. Brayden’s hands shoot up to pry at Eddie’s forearm, his boots kicking and scraping the mat as he tries to inch toward the ropes, but rope breaks don’t win this match, they only delay the suffering, and the Den won’t let him escape anyway. Brayden tries to twist his hips, tries to roll through, but Eddie keeps his base, tightening the hold with every breath, his forearm grinding under Brayden’s jaw, the other hand locking it in like a vice.
Brayden’s face turns red. His kicking becomes frantic, then uneven. He reaches, fingers clawing, trying to pull Eddie’s arm down, trying to make space, trying to steal air. Eddie leans back further, eyes narrowed, shoulders flexing, refusing to give an inch. The referee drops to the mat, checking Brayden’s eyes, checking his response, asking if he wants to submit. Brayden shakes his head wildly, defiant, stubborn, until that defiance starts to turn into desperation.
Outside, the Lions lean in, the faces watching closely, the heels irritated that their guy might actually have to pay for everything he’s done. Carter and Miles look on, tense; Keys and Acquin are focused, ready to stop anything stupid. Brayden’s hands slap the mat once, twice, then his arm droops as his legs stop kicking.
The referee grabs Brayden’s wrist and lifts it.
It drops.
She lifts it again.
It drops, heavier.
The referee lifts it a third time, and Brayden’s hand doesn’t respond.
DING DING DING!
Eddie releases the hold immediately, rolling away and pushing himself up on his hands, chest heaving like he’s just dragged himself out of deep water. Brayden lies on his side, blinking slowly, still trying to understand why the world feels muffled. The referee waves his arms and signals for medical to be alert, then turns back to the ring announcer area as Eddie rises to his feet, jaw still sore, ribs still aching, but the victory written all over his posture.
Justin: Here is your winner of the Lyons Den! “UNBREAKABLE” EDDIE LYONS!
Simone: He did it! Eddie Lyons wins the Lyons Den Match by submission, by stoppage, however you want to call it, Brayden Williams went out in the Pridelock!
Lunam: That’s the family blood, Simone! That’s the Lyons Roar legacy in spirit, but tonight it was the Pridelock, squeezed the cheek right outta Brayden until there was nothin’ left but a nap. And look, look at the Den, no escape, no excuses, just Eddie standin’ tall.
Eddie staggers to the ropes, looking out at the Lions around him, faces and heels alike, then raises a fist, absorbing the roar of the crowd. The Den did what it always does: it forced a man to either fight through the storm, or get swallowed by it.
The scene opens backstage where we see Ms. Rocky Mountains getting ready to interview tonight’s challenger for the Bombshell Internet Championship Harper Mason and her manager Joshua Acquin ahead of the match against Victoria Lyons!
Ms. Rocky Mountains: Harper, your latest in a long line of matches against Victoria Lyons is coming up and it’s for the Bombshell Internet Championship, thoughts?
Harper: What do you expect me to say at this point? Me and Victoria have been rivals from the moment she arrived in SCW two years ago, it only turned nasty recently!
Ms. Rocky Mountains: I know but you have been in this position before when you ended Victoria’s Roulette Title Reign at Summer XXXTreme.
Harper: I’m aware, I’m also aware of how short that reign was, but I have no intention of my second reign in SCW being that short.
Joshua: She may have taken a break for the Christmas Holidays but trust me, she’s been training hard for this and Harper’s ready to dethrone Victoria again.
Harper: And if I don’t? Well, good luck to whoever’s next but I will be watching!
Harper and Josh walk off as the scene fades.
Justin: The following match is for the bombshells Internet championship. Introducing first the Challenger!
Jonathon Young’s cover of “New Divide” by Linkin Park hits the speakers and Harper emerges from the back throwing some kicks in the air to the opening beat as her manager Joshua Acquin watches on with approval, once the initial lyrics hit Harper does a spinning roundhouse kick before dropping to one knee and throwing up the Devil Horns..
Justin: From Orlando, Florida and being accompanied by Joshua Acquin, she is the “Slaytanic Avenger” HARPER MASON!
Once Harper hears her name called she jumps to her feet with a massive grin on her face, she sprints down to the ring clapping hands with the fans at ringside before she jumps into the ring and down a forward roll landing on her knees and grinning broadly, ready to throw down with her opponent, Josh applauds his charge from the outside as they wait her opponent.
The arena lights dim as "Hey You" by Nova Rockafeller plays, and Victoria Lyons appears onstage, she has her "pet" Darian on a leash as they make their way to ringside, where Darian hops up to hold the ropes open for his queen, she makes her way to pose in the center of the ring, as Darian kneels beside her caressing her waist/thigh area. Once her music fades, she sends Darian to the corner and prepares for the match to start..
Justin: And the champion, from Charlotte North Carolina she is the SCW bombshells Internet champion the head Lyonness Victoria Lyons!!!
DING DING DING!!!
The bell breaks the silence after Victoria‘s introduction and they surge toward each other at the same instant, forearms crashing together in the center of the ring. Victoria Lyons fires first, a vicious palm strike snapping Harper Mason’s head sideways, then another, then a ringing shoot kick to the thigh that echoes through the arena. Harper absorbs it, grits her teeth, and answers with a sharp elbow of her own, then a low kick to Victoria’s calf, chopping the base out from under her just long enough to snap off a quick snapmare and roll through into a grounded headlock.
Victoria snarls and claws at Harper’s hands, grinding her forearm across Harper’s face until the hold loosens. She rips free with a sudden headbutt and immediately lashes out with a brutal roundhouse that catches Harper in the ribs. Harper staggers, and Victoria surges forward, trapping her in the corner and unloading a barrage of knife-edge chops and short elbows, each one thrown with malice. She leans in and bites at Harper’s forehead, teeth sinking in just long enough to draw a gasp before she’s shoved back..
Lunam: Hot damn that was a quick start. These two ladies are not wasting any time. Then again the Internet championship is on the line
Simone: Look, I have never been the biggest fan of Harper Mason but taking the fight straight to Victoria like that is the only way that she is going to be able to wrestle that championship from the Queen
Lunam: The queen? I thought she stopped using that gimmick
Harper explodes out of the corner with a sudden burst of speed, catching Victoria with a running forearm that turns her inside out. Harper follows with a crisp arm drag, then another, floating over into a grounded hammerlock. She drives a knee into Victoria’s shoulder, rolls her onto her back, and steps through into a modified armbar, wrenching back with intent. Victoria kicks wildly, boots scraping the canvas until she finds the ropes and forces the break.
They rise together and Victoria immediately throws a stiff forearm, Harper answering with one of her own. The exchange escalates, forearm, elbow, palm strike, until Victoria ducks under and snaps Harper down with a spinning side slam, planting her hard. Victoria rolls through, hooks the arms, and hauls Harper up into the Tiger Thunder Driver, dropping her with authority in the center of the ring. Harper bounces and rolls away, clutching her midsection as Victoria stalks her with cold precision.
Victoria charges, but Harper drops low, sweeping the leg and rolling straight into a grounded leglock. She traps the ankle, twists, and transitions seamlessly into the Satanic Panic, elevating the knee and wrenching back on the leg. Victoria screams and claws at Harper’s hair, then leans forward and bites Harper’s shoulder, forcing her to release just long enough for Victoria to roll free and scramble to the corner.
Simone: The referee is giving them a lot of leeway. Here I haven’t seen Victoria be this blatant about breaking the rules. In awhile she bit Harper in full view of the referee to get that satanic panic released
Lunam: Thing is the referee nose that if he disqualifies Victoria Harper will win the match but Victoria stays the champion. Jacob Summers is trying to make sure he doesn’t inadvertently screw Harper out of her chance to become the champion
Harper doesn’t give her space. She rushes in, eats a sudden boot to the face, but keeps coming, vaulting up and catching Victoria with the Sun//Eater, the springboard attack snapping Victoria’s head back as she crashes to the mat. Harper hooks the leg, but Victoria kicks out hard, rolling her shoulder free with a snarl.
Victoria scrambles to her feet and immediately cheap shots Harper with a thumb to the eye. Harper recoils, and Victoria capitalizes, blasting her with a brutal spinning backfist. She grabs Harper by the hair, yanks her up, and hurls her with a release German suplex, then another, each one folding Harper tighter. Victoria drags her up again and drives her down with the Dead Revolution, the spinning side slam shaking the ring.
ONE!!
TWO!
KICKOUT!!.
Simone: The was so close to being over. Harper is showing us some heart as I said I’ve never been her biggest fan but she is proving herself tonight.
Lunam: Victoria Lyons has been the most successful member of her family and that’s saying something considering how successful her family really is and how talented they are.
Victoria isn’t done. She pulls Harper up, traps the head, and spikes her into the canvas with the Lioness Raw DDT. Harper goes limp for a heartbeat, but somehow manages to roll onto her side as Victoria covers. Harper kicks out at the last possible instant, pure instinct keeping her alive. Frustration flashes across Victoria’s face. She drags Harper to the ropes, drapes her throat across the middle rope, and chokes her with both hands until the count forces her to break. As soon as she does, Victoria sprints and drives a knee into Harper’s chest, crushing the air from her lungs. She hauls Harper up and snaps her down with a snap DDT, then rolls through into a mounted position, raining down savage elbows.
Harper bucks and twists, catching one of Victoria’s arms and rolling into a crucifix pin. Victoria barely escapes, kicking out and rolling to her knees, where Harper immediately snaps on a front chancery and drops down into a grounded choke. Victoria thrashes, boots pounding the mat, until she forces her way up and drives Harper backward into the corner, crushing her between turnbuckles.
Victoria backs up and charges, but Harper slips out at the last second, sending Victoria crashing chest-first into the post. Harper grabs her from behind and hits a snap dragon suplex, then another, then rolls through into a third, each one tighter and more desperate than the last. Harper fires up, charges the ropes, and nails the Mason-Line Special, the buckshot leg lariat connecting flush and dropping Victoria flat. Harper covers.
ONE!
TWO!
KICKOUT!
Simone: Oh that was close!
Lunam: It was almost over and Harper Mason almost made her dreams come true
Harper climbs quickly, wasting no motion, and launches herself with the FOUR!FIVE!0 Splash, the Sun//Eater crashing down across Victoria’s chest. Harper hooks the leg deep. Victoria kicks out at two and a half, her body jerking violently as she forces the shoulder up.
Harper doesn’t hesitate. She drags Victoria up, muscles her into position, and hoists her onto her shoulders, transitioning smoothly into the Encore Set. She wrenches back in the torture rack, then spins and drops Victoria with the flatliner. Harper covers again. Victoria kicks out again, refusing to surrender the championship.
Both women struggle to their feet. Harper throws a strike; Victoria answers with a headbutt. Harper fires back with a kick to the gut and goes for the ripcord, but Victoria twists free and drives Harper headfirst into the mat with a spike DDT. Harper folds, stunned, as Victoria rolls to the apron.
Victoria climbs the ropes with deliberate malice, balancing on the top turnbuckle. Harper staggers to her feet just as Victoria leaps, catching her with the Nova Burst, the Eclipse-style jumping capture stunner smashing Harper face-first into the canvas. The impact is sickening. Victoria crawls into the cover, draping herself over Harper.
ONE!
TWO!
Harper somehow kicks out. The arena seems to gasp as one.
Simone: Harper Mason will not die!
Lunam: This is incredible!
Simone: Victoria looks furious
Victoria’s eyes go wild. She slaps the mat, then grabs Harper’s wrist and yanks her up, dragging her into the corner. She bites Harper’s forehead again, then unleashes a flurry of strikes, forearms, elbows, kicks, until Harper slumps. Victoria backs up and charges, but Harper explodes out with a sudden knee strike that catches Victoria under the jaw. Harper climbs the ropes in one fluid motion and launches herself with the Fragile Wings, the Phoenix Splash connecting flush. Harper hooks the leg.
ONE!
TWO!
Victoria kicks out!!!!, barely, but she kicks out!!!!
Both women lie broken, chests heaving. Harper is first to move, dragging herself upright and pulling Victoria with her. She goes for the Crowd Killer, ripping Victoria into position, but Victoria hooks the ropes with her foot to block it. She elbows Harper repeatedly, then rakes the eyes again, breaking free. Victoria spins and drives Harper down with another Dead Revolution. Victoria drags Harper up one last time, traps the head, and drives her into the canvas with a final, emphatic Lioness Raw DDT. She rolls through, hooks both legs deep, and presses her weight down.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Justin: Here is your winner, and STILL Bombshell Internet Champion! Victoria! LYONS!!!
Victoria Lyons rolls away, clutching at her championship as Harper lies spent on the mat. The champion rises unsteadily, bloodied and defiant, the Bombshells Internet Championship still hers after a brutal, unforgiving war.
Simone: And Victoria Lyons maintains her stranglehold on the Internet Championship!
Lunam: By the skin of her teeth! Make no mistake, Belinda! The Queen was lucky to get past this one!
Kevin and Connor returned from catering with sodas in hand, Connor rambling excitedly about how the SCW catering spaghetti was better than school lunch by like twelve universes.
Miles was mid-sentence to Carter about locker room check-in when a shadow appeared behind them.
A very... unique shadow.
High-energy. Slightly erratic. Possibly feral.
Despayre: HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII, PEOPLES!
Connor jumped so hard he nearly launched his soda. Kevin froze like he sensed danger but didn’t know where it was yet. Miles winced. Carter blinked and whispered, ‘Oh god...’
And then he appeared. Despayre, cradling Angel, the teddy bear dressed in a sparkly little vest, as though he were royalty.
Despayre: Angel said he sensed friendship vibes in this hallway, and I said, ‘Let’s go check!’ So we checked! And here you are!
He stopped abruptly, and looked at Connor...Then at Kevin. then at Miles. Then... slowly back to Kevin, head tilting like a confused puppy and a highly trained CSI investigator simultaneously.
Despayre: Heyyyyy... Kevin. What’s that on your neck?
Kevin blinked.
Kevin: What?
Before anyone could intervene, Despy zoomed closer like a bloodhound catching a scent waggling Angel at him like a pointer stick.
Despayre: THAT! Right there! That looks like a...
Miles’ eyes widened.
Miles: Despy....
Despayre: A HICKEY! It’s either that or you lost a battle with a Hoover.
Connor choked on air. You could see Kevin’s soul attempting to escape his body. Carter slapped a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing. Miles dragged a hand down his face.
Kevin: *whisper-yelling, mortified* DESPY!!!!
Despayre: What?! Angel and I have eyes! Very good ones! We saw it before your hair covered it when you turned! Right there!
He begins to poke the air near Kevin’s neck
Despayre: That is NOT a ‘I slept funny’ mark. That is a ‘someone got bitey’ mark.
Connor coughed violently.
Kevin turned the color of a ripe tomato.
Miles looked between them, then slowly turned his head toward Connor with a raised eyebrow.
Miles: ...Connor?
Connor made a small squeaking noise.
Connor: I...I mean...I don’t...okay that is NOT FAIR because HE leaned into ME and also...Kevin stop looking at me like that....oh my god.
Kevin groaned and covered his face.
Kevin: I hate everything.
Despy beamed, absolutely delighted.
Despayre: It’s okay! Angel says love is beautiful! Even if you hide it really, REALLY badly!
Miles pinched the bridge of his nose like a man begging the universe for patience.
Miles: Despy... mate... remember last time? Remember when you outed me and Carter before we even told anyone?
Despayre: *nodding happily* Oh yep! Angel remembers that too! He says that was one of his FAVORITE days!
Carter turned bright red and muttered.
HBCarter: I remember...
Despy turned back to Kevin and Connor.
Despayre: SO! Who gets the gummy bears??? New couples get gummy bears!! It’s a rule.
Kevin sputtered.
Connor sputtered harder.
Miles: Okay! Despy, thank you, mate, you’ve been... incredibly helpful, truly, but let’s keep gummy bears away from minors and maybe... not tell the entire roster, yeah?
Despy gasped, offended.
Despayre: I would never tell the entire roster!
Miles sighed with relief.
Despayre: I’ll tell Angel. And he’ll tell like three people max.
Miles: ...that’s worse.
Carter was laughing so hard he had to grab Miles’ arm for balance.
Despayre hugged Angel, patted Kevin on the shoulder, winked at Connor, and skipped off humming a Christmas song. The second he was out of sight, Kevin groaned again.
Kevin: ...I cannot believe that just happened.
Connor buried his face in his hands.
Connor: WE ARE SO DEAD. Can we just go to our seats now?
Miles crossed his arms.
Miles: Well.. at least we don’t have to ‘have the talk’ with you two. Despy handled it.
Kevin let out a strangled noise. Connor made another dying-whale sound. Carter draped an arm over Miles’ shoulders, still giggling.
HBCarter: Honestly? That went better than expected.
Miles sighed.
Miles: We’re never living this down, are we?
HBCarter: Nope.
Kevin: OKAY! We’re going to our seats now...please be safe.
Connor: YES. YES WE DO. SEATS. FAR AWAY FROM HERE. SO FAR.
Kevin grabbed Connor by the back of his hoodie and started dragging him away from the scene of the crime at near-sprint speed.
HBCarter: Kevin...Kevin, slow down, you’re gonna...
Kevin: (already halfway down the hall) NOPE!!! TOO LATE!!! GOOD LUCK, LOVE YOU BYE!!!
Connor waved frantically as he stumbled behind him.
Connor: THANK YOU FOR THE PASS, BYE, SORRY, PLEASE FORGET EVERYTHING DESPY SAID!!!
They disappeared around the corner in a blur of teenage panic. Despy had been gone for less than sixty seconds. Miles stared after them, blinked once, and sighed deeply.
Miles: ...I think we broke them.
Carter looped an arm through his, trying very hard not to laugh again.
HBCarter: No... Despy broke them. We’re just collateral damage.
Miles groaned into his hands.
Miles: They are never going to want to come out of the house again after this...
HBCarter: Oh come on. You know that was hilarious.
Miles shot him a look. Carter grinned.
HBCarter: Tell me I’m wrong.
Miles exhaled slowly, reluctantly.
Miles: ...Fine. It was funny.
He glanced down the hall where the kids had vanished.
Miles: But I guarantee you they’re gonna sit in the arena pretending this never happened.
HBCarter: Oh, one hundred percent.
Miles shook his head, finally letting a smile slip.
Miles: Poor lads. Welcome to the SCW family.
Justin: Your next match is for the Sin City Internet Championship, from Dallas Texas, ALEX JONES
Tommy Vext's "Cancel the king" hits and as the lyrics of the intro cut into the guitar Alex steps out wearing a black and red "wolfslair" t-shirt and his wrestling gear. He makes his way down to the ring with an arrogant sneer before leaping up onto the ring apron.
Justin: From Manchester, United Kingdom, he is your reigning Sin City Wrestling INTERNET CHAMPION, MILES KASEY
"Throne" by Bring Me The Horizon hits the speakers—opening with the haunting keys before that first crashing riff. The Arena plunges into darkness.
A single spotlight beams down onto the stage as blue and gold lights begin to swirl like a storm forming. The opening instrumental kicks in heavier, and the fans immediately erupt, knowing who’s coming. A slow roll of fog creeps along the ramp, and just as the beat drops…
BOOM!
A burst of golden pyro erupts from both sides of the stage, and Miles Kasey steps through the smoke, hood up, head down.
His long jacket flows behind him, the blue and gold design of his gear catches flashes of light like armor under moonlight. The hood casts a slight shadow over his face, but the grin is unmistakable. He pauses at the top of the ramp, slowly raising his head.
The camera zooms in on his eyes.
The hook hits: “So you can throw me to the wolves…”
Miles throws his arms out in a wide, defiant pose as a wave of gold and blue pyro explodes behind him, illuminating the arena in heroic brilliance.
“…Tomorrow I will come back, leader of the whole pack!”
He rips the hood down, revealing that confident smirk. Fans are on their feet, feeding off his energy.
Miles starts his slow, swagger-filled walk down the ramp. He slaps a few hands, points out some fans in the crowd, and gives a subtle nod to the camera like "Yeah, this is mine tonight."
At ringside, he climbs the apron with ease, wipes his boots, and leaps over the top rope in one smooth motion. He heads to the turnbuckle, climbing to the second rope. Miles raises a single fist into the air as a final golden spotlight hits him, the crowd roaring behind him.
Then he hops down, shrugging off his jacket like it weighs nothing. His eyes lock onto Alex Jones, ready to fight.
DING DING DING!
The bell rings and Alex Jones immediately leans back against the turnbuckle, arms crossed and a smirk on his face. Miles Kasey stands in the center of the ring, bouncing on the balls of his feet, sizing up his opponent with a cold focus. Alex claps mockingly, baiting Miles, who does not take the provocation lightly. He circles, looking for an opening, his eyes never leaving Alex.
Lunam: Alex is already trying to get inside Miles' head.
Simone: Classic heel behavior. He wants to slow the pace and frustrate his opponent.
The two meet in a collar and elbow tie-up, testing strength. Alex twists Miles arm and snaps him down into a headlock takeover. Miles rolls through, flipping Alex onto his back and scrambling to his feet, only to be caught by another arm wrench. The crowd is firmly behind Miles, shouting for him to fight back.
Lunam: That is excellent early technical work.
Simone: Miles refuses to back down.
Alex tries to push Miles into the corner, but Miles spins and counters with a Japanese arm drag, sending Alex skidding across the canvas. He immediately follows with another arm drag, then a third, rolling Alex back into a hammerlock. Alex grits his teeth, planting his feet, and reverses it into a sharp snap DDT that plants Miles flat.
Lunam: That DDT came out of nowhere.
Simone: Smart veteran timing from Alex.
Alex rolls into a cover, hooking the leg. Miles kicks out at two. Alex drags him up and fires off stiff martial arts kicks to the chest. Miles attempts to block, but Alex transitions seamlessly into a spinning neckbreaker, rolling through into a pendulum backbreaker that bends Miles across Alex's knee.
Lunam: Brutal chain of offense from the heel.
Simone: Miles is being dissected limb by limb.
Miles screams as he tries to roll out. Alex stomps him in the back repeatedly, then lifts him for a vertical suplex, holding him high before dropping him with authority. Alex smirks at the crowd while dragging Miles toward the center of the ring.
Lunam: Alex showing off raw power and precision.
Simone: He is really imposing his will early.
Miles staggers up and fires back with an arm wrench takedown, flipping Alex over. He follows immediately with an Irish Hammer that rocks Alex jaw, then a backdrop suplex that leaves both men momentarily stunned. Miles pulls himself up and signals to the crowd before climbing to the second rope.
Lunam: Miles is stacking offense now.
Simone: That is the tweener edge, keeping the fans behind him.
He launches into a moonsault, flattening Alex, then follows with a double foot stomp and a quick cover.
ONE!
TWO!…
Alex kicks out. Miles tries a lung blower next, driving Alex to the mat. Alex kicks out again, rolling to the apron and catching a brief breather.
Lunam: That was picture perfect from Miles.
Simone: Alex is forced to reset, which is exactly what Miles wanted.
Alex spins around and rakes Miles' eyes, then rolls Miles' throat first across the top rope. He immediately nails a hammerlock into a clothesline that flips Miles inside out. Alex follows with a snapmare, then a soccer kick to the chest that has the crowd gasping.
Lunam: He is taking the heel to a whole new level.
Simone: That kick hurt Miles badly.
Alex lifts Miles and snaps him into a pendulum backbreaker again, bending him cruelly. He stomps Miles once, then twice, then locks in the figure four leg lock. Miles screams and claws at the mat. Alex leans back, taunting the audience while maintaining maximum pressure.
Lunam: Alex is methodical and merciless.
Simone: Miles is trapped, but this is only act one.
Miles reaches for the ropes and drags himself to the bottom rope, forcing a break. Alex yanks him up immediately and drills him with a running knee strike, then snaps him down with a rolling neck snap. The crowd cheers wildly as both men try to catch their breath.
Lunam: That knee strike had perfect timing.
Simone: Alex is controlling pace while staying opportunistic.
Miles staggers back, but he fires off a running clothesline, then a vertical suplex, holding Alex high for a moment before dropping him. Miles climbs to the top rope and launches a reverse 450, but Alex rolls through at the last second. Miles crashes hard onto the mat.
Lunam: That could have been it.
Simone: Alex barely survived the attempt.
Alex seizes the opportunity, landing a flying double leg stomp, then locking in the Koji Clutch. He screams, wrenching back on Miles' neck. Miles claws desperately, eventually reaching the ropes to break the hold.
Lunam: Alex is exploiting every technical advantage.
Simone: Miles is hanging on by sheer will.
Miles staggers to his feet and hits a running knee strike, snapping Alex's neck back. He follows with a suicide dive, wiping Alex off his feet and sending him into the barricade. The fans erupt at the display. Tossing him into the ring he goes for a quick pin.
Lunam: That dive could change momentum.
Simone: Miles is doing everything he can to shift control.
ONE!
TWO!
Alex kicks out just before the referee’s hand can hit the mat again.
Lunam: Close call there for Alex.
Simone: Miles almost had that one.
Alex gets back up and catches Miles with a hammerlock into a clothesline, spinning him inside out, then delivers a spinning neckbreaker. He snaps Miles over with a snapmare and nails a soccer kick. The referee warns Alex, but he smirks and backs into the corner.
Lunam: Alex is pushing the limits of the rules.
Simone: This is why he is a true heel.
Miles Kasey staggers to his feet, clutching his ribs from the repeated punishing blows. Alex Jones smirks, taunting the crowd with a slow clap, leaning on the ropes and baiting Miles to charge. Miles shakes it off and rushes in, connecting with a sharp arm wrench takedown that sends Alex sprawling. Alex rolls through and immediately delivers a step up enzuguri that snaps Miles' head back violently.
Lunam: Miles is still fighting, but Alex is punishing every inch.
Simone: That kick was textbook heel psychology, hitting and taunting at the same time.
Miles gasps for air, dragging himself toward the ropes, then pops up and executes a moonsault, crashing onto Alex with precision. He hooks both legs for the cover.
ONE!
TWO!
Alex kicks out at two, rolling away and smirking at Miles with mock surprise.
Lunam: That moonsault almost ended it.
Simone: Alex is playing mind games now, pretending to be caught off guard.
Miles grabs Alex and hoists him for a vertical suplex. Alex wiggles and lands behind him, landing on his feet and countering with a rolling neck snap. He springs up into the crowd’s view and gestures, forcing Miles to stagger backward.
Lunam: That reversal was perfect timing.
Simone: The heel is keeping his ego fully intact while punishing Miles.
Alex drags Miles up and whips him into the corner, connecting with a running knee strike that staggers the tweener. Alex lifts Miles again and hits a pendulum backbreaker, bending him cruelly. He stomps Miles twice in the back, then launches into a hammerlock into a clothesline, flipping Miles violently.
Lunam: Cruel but effective sequence.
Simone: The crowd is on the edge, this is vicious.
Miles, refusing to stay down, rolls through and connects with a reverse frankensteiner, snapping Alex down hard. He tries a cover, the referee slipping down beside them.
ONE!
TWO!
Alex kicks out again at two. Miles scrambles to the ropes and pulls himself up. Alex staggers after him and charges, but Miles rolls to the apron and launches a tope con hilo, wiping Alex out over the barricade.
Lunam: That dive is an insane risk.
Simone: Miles is desperate to shift momentum.
Alex hits the floor hard but grins, crawling under the bottom rope to get back inside. Miles follows and goes for Blast from the Past. Alex shoves him into the ropes, then ducks low and catches Miles in a snap DDT. Alex hooks the leg. Miles kicks out at two and a half, barely raising his shoulder.
Lunam: That DDT could have ended the match.
Simone: Miles refuses to stay down, the heart of a tweener showing.
Alex drags Miles up and shoves him into the corner, snapping him back with a rolling neck snap. He points to the crowd, taunting, then strikes Miles with stiff martial arts kicks to the chest. Miles tries to fight back with a forearm, but Alex drops him with a snapmare into a soccer kick to the spine.
Lunam: Every strike hurts.
Simone: Alex is targeting the body with surgical precision.
Alex stalks Miles, lifting him for Dragons Breath, but Miles shoves him away and counters with a lung blower, driving Alex into the mat. Miles follows with a double foot stomp and a moonsault from the second rope, covering Alex for the pin.
ONE!
TWO!
Alex kicks out at two, crawling to the ropes for safety.
Lunam: That could have been a false finish.
Simone: Alex barely survives, the heel is smart, using the ropes.
Both men struggle to their feet. Miles charges with a running clothesline, but Alex ducks, spins behind him, and delivers a stiff step up enzuguri. Miles staggers. Alex runs in and nails a running knee strike, then immediately attempts The Dragon Sleeps. Miles rolls through and scrambles, but Alex leans back, wrenching harder, using the ropes for extra leverage without the referee noticing.
Lunam: He is using the ropes! That is classic heel tactics.
Simone: That is genius in-ring psychology. It is borderline cheating and the crowd is eating it up.
Miles tries to push himself off, but Alex locks in the AJ Lock, pulling on the arm viciously. Miles grabs the ropes with his free hand, but Alex stretches his body back, letting the referee see the hold as legitimate. The crowd is chanting, unsure whether Alex will get caught.
Lunam: That is the leverage spot we talked about.
Simone: Alex is fully exploiting every inch of the ring.
Miles fights with everything he has, reaching, twisting, nearly collapsing under the pressure, but he refuses to tap, Miles claws his way to the ropes, breaking the hold. Both men are exhausted, rolling on the mat, gasping for air. The crowd is on its feet as Alex Jones slowly drags himself to his knees, smirking over at Miles, who struggles to his feet with sweat dripping from his brow. Alex gestures, mocking Miles, before snapping him upright. Miles swings with a desperate forearm, but Alex ducks and lands another stiff step up enzuguri that snaps Miles’ head back.
Lunam: That kick just staggered Miles badly.
Simone: Alex Jones is still in control, but Miles is not done yet.
Alex lifts Miles and slams him into the corner with a pendulum backbreaker, bending him cruelly. He stomps twice, then grabs Miles’ arm and whips him across the ring. Miles rebounds with a running knee strike, but Alex catches him on the way down, delivering a vicious flying double leg stomp. Both men are down again, barely moving.
Lunam: That double leg stomp could be the end.
Simone: Miles is barely conscious.
Alex crawls toward the ropes, then pulls himself up to his feet, the crowd booing loudly. He gestures at Miles to get up. Miles slowly staggers up, fighting back with a desperate lunge, but Alex sidesteps, snaps behind him, and plants him with a rolling neck snap.
Lunam: That could be it.
Simone: Alex is methodical, and he knows it.
Miles gets to one knee, and Alex charges with The Dragon Sleeps. Miles tries to roll through, but Alex catches the momentum, planting him near the ropes. Using the ropes like a springboard, Alex leans back slightly, grabbing Miles’ arm and torso, adding extra leverage just out of the referee’s line of sight. Miles collapses backward, dazed, and Alex covers him immediately.
Lunam: Oh my! He is using the ropes for extra force!
Simone: That is a smart heel tactic, perfectly timed.
The referee slides into position and counts!
ONE!
TWO!
Alex grabs the ring ropes for additional leverage!
THREE!
The bell rings. The crowd erupts with a mix of boos and cheers as Alex Jones rolls off, smirking and raising his arms in victory. Miles lies sprawled on the mat, exhausted and defeated, having given everything in the match.
Lunam: Alex Jones wins, using every bit of ring awareness and cunning he has.
Simone: Miles put up a heroic fight, but the heel knew exactly how to manipulate the situation and get the pinfall.
Justin: Your winner and NEW Internet Champion, ALEX JONESSSSSS
Alex slowly stands, soaking in the heat from the crowd, yelling at them to quiet down, while Miles groans and clutches his ribs. Alex’s smug grin tells the world he wins fairly in the rules of the match, but by bending them at the perfect moment, leaving his opponent down but not out.
Lunam: What a main event. Both men left everything in the ring.
Simone: But Alex’s cleverness secured him the victory, and the story played out perfectly.
Lunam: I’m sure this isn’t the last we will see of this rivalry.
01/25 - Climax Control - Reno, NV
Reno Events Center
02/01 - Climax Control - Fresno, CA
Selland Arena
02/08 - Climax Control - Bakersfield, CA
Dignity Health Arena
02/15 - Climax Control - Kent, WA accesso ShoWare Center
02/22 - Climax Control - Everett, WA
Angel of the Winds Arena
03/08 - Blaze of Glory XV - Fort Worth, TX
Dickies Arena
The arena fades to black as the screen lights up and we are treated to an old school movie countdown image.
5
4
3
Suddenly the countdown is stopped by claws slashing through the image and a cat’s roar sounds through the arena. Janet Jackson’s “Black Cat” blasts through the speakers and Seleana Zdunich and Zenna Zdunich walks through the entranceway and makes their way to the ring, slapping hands along the way as the crowd cheers them on.
The crowd waits in anticipation and all of a sudden the lights in the arena begin to go off. An old Hollywood movie countdown appears on a screen and as soon as it reaches zero flame pyros begin to go off one after the other. A red carpet is rolled all the way to the ring and photographers begin to line up. It isn't long before two females walk from behind the curtains. Crystal Caldwell and Mercedes Vargas begin to pose for the crowd. Boos, jeers, and even cat calls welcome the duo but the two actresses slowly make their way to the ring taking in all of the hatred from the crowd. Crystal flips off somebody in the crowd, as Vargas yanks her hand back not wanting to engage with any of the audience.
Justin: Ladies and gentlemen introducing to the ring at a combined weight of 240 pounds they are the World Bombshell Champion Crystal Caldwell and Mercedes Vargas, Fire & Fury!!!!"
The two finally reach the ring where Crystal stretches her legs onto the apron and does a split to enter the ring. Meanwhile Mercedes walks up the stairs slowly and seductively enters into the ring. The two join together inside where they give one another a hi five before taking their spots in the center of the ring for a posed photo for the following of paparazzi. The crowd boos loudly but they just ignore them as they prepare for their match.
Both teams are now inside the ring trying to figure out who is going to start the match. Seleana nervously stands on the outside of the apron. Zenna decides to step inside of the ring. Crystal decides to stay in the ring motioning to Mercedes to stand on the apron. Vargas nods her head and steps outside onto the apron. Drew Patton grabs the World Bombshell Championship from Crystal and raises the championship high into the air. Zenna looks up at the title as Crystal just keeps her focus on her sister in-law. Patton hands the title to the time keeper on the side of the ring as the bell sounds loudly signaling the start of the match. Zenna and Crystal just continue to glance at one another before looking out at the fans that are sitting all around the MGM Grand arena. Crystal walks to the center of the ring and tries to reason with her sister in-law but the Swedish woman isn’t hearing it as she runs and spears Caldwell to the ground.
Lunam: And just like that Zenna is telling her sister in-law exactly how she feels about her.
Simone: Listen to this Las Vegas crowd, they absolutely love it!
DING DING DING!
Crystal tries her best to crawl away but Zenna keeps on pounding away at Crystal’s face. Crystal manages to shove Zenna off of her before she brings herself up to her feet. Zenna tries to keep the speed up rushing towards the Latina who grabs a hold of Zdunich and whips her into the corner. Crystal follows suit running after her sister in law but as soon as Zenna reaches the corner she uses the turnbuckle to jump over Crystal and lands on the opposite side of the champion. The redhead quickly wraps her arms around Caldwell and looks for a German suplex, Crystal fights back sending a sharp elbow backwards which catches Zenna in the face.
Lunam: What a stiff shot from the champion.
Simone: Crystal is using this moment as an opportunity for some offense.
As the Swedish woman is grabbing at her face Crystal quickly ascends to the top of the ropes. She jumps backwards and lands right on Zenna with a moonsault. Caldwell isn’t done yet as she quickly rises back up to her feet and she quickly sprints towards turnbuckles. Once she reaches the ropes she uses them as a launching pad as she springboards off of them and lands on top of her sister in-law with her Smell the Roses moonsault. She remains on top of Zenna hooking a leg for a pin fall.
Lunam: Smell the Roses and this one could be over before it even begins!
Simone: Crystal is trying to end this as quickly as possible!
ONE!
TWO!
Seleana enters into the ring and she breaks the pin fall up. As soon as she does she glances over at Crystal who looks back at her wife. There is a look between the both of them as Crystal turns her attention back over to Zenna. Crystal walks over to her downed opponent and she helps her up to her feet. The champion tucks the redhead underneath an arm looking for a ddt but Zenna fights back flipping Crystal over her body with a northern lights suplex. Caldwell’s back hits the mat with a thud and that is when Zenna runs over to Seleana and she tags her sister in. Seleana hops over the ropes and her eyes lock on that of her wife. The Vegas crowd begins to cheer loudly wanting for Seleana to take it to her wife. Crystal doesn’t have any idea what’s going on as she rises to her face.
Lunam: Seleana is now in this match and this is the one opponent that Crystal Caldwell has yet to beat in SCW
Simone: If I am Seleana I am going to strike Crystal so I can position myself to be champion.
Crystal struggles before she makes it to her feet. She looks over at Seleana who is hovering over her. The crowd is full of electricity as they for the married couple to fight one another. Seleana however turns her attention over to Mercedes and points at her. Caldwell nods her head as she backs away from her wife and tags in Mercedes who receives nothing but boos from the roaring crowd.
Lunam: I don’t know what Seleana is doing. She should have taken it to Crystal.
Simone: Even though the title is on the line there might be a piece of her that wants to finally get her hands on Mercedes.
Mercedes has a smug expression on her face as she just keeps her eyes locked on Seleana. She mouths off in Spanish which gets a reaction out of Seleana who swears in Swedish before she runs after Vargas. The Argentine Assassin quickly slaps Crystal hard tagging her into the ring before she herself rolls outside and begins to laugh. Crystal stands on the apron dumbfounded as she exchanges words with her partner.
Lunam: And as quickly as Mercedes was tagged inside she tags herself back out.
Simone: It looks to me as if she is trying to play mind games with Seleana.
Crystal with a disappointed expression enters into the ring. The married couple locks eyes with one another before Caldwell walks over to Seleana and offers her a hand. Zenna stands on the apron and screams at her sister not to take it but Seleana follows her heart and decides to slap Crystal’s hand as the two engage in a handshake. They each put a hand into the air wanting to engage into a test of strength. Both of them seem to be evenly matched with one another before Crystal tries to go for a sneaky knee strike. Seleana grabs the knee before she turns Crystal around. She turns the champion around and grabs Crystal’s head from behind and tucks it underneath an arm. She begins to run forward and drops the champion head first against the mat with a running bull dog. Caldwell gets planted against the mat. Seleana stands by the apron and motions for Crystal to get up. The champion is slow but she eventually rises up to her feet. Seleana grabs her wife and irishwhips her against the turnbuckle where Mercedes tags herself back in by hitting Crystal’s back.
Lunam: There’s the tag.
Simone: But I don’t that Seleana was able to see it!
When Crystal runs back towards Seleana the Swedish woman kicks Crystal as hard as she can causing the champion to double over. She stands behind her wife and flips over her with her Asai DDT driving Crystal into the mat with her Kattoga.
Lunam: Kattoga and Crystal is out of it!
Simone: She might be out of it but I don’t think that Seleana realizes that Crystal isn’t the legal woman
As soon as Seleana tries to go for a pin that is when Mercedes quickly jumps into the ring, she immediately rushes over to Zenna’s side of the ring and knocks her down with a Be Still My Heart Super Kick. Drew Patton isn’t counting the pin as he informs to Seleana that Crystal isn’t legal. As soon as Seleana rises up to her feet that is when Mercedes lifts Seleana upwards over her shoulders and she drives Zdunich down on top of Crystal with her Black Rose Overdrive (Inverted Death Valley Driver) Crystal clutches at her stomach as Seleana holds her neck. Mercedes doesn’t waste any time as she hurriedly drops across Seleana and hooks a leg for the pin.
Lunam: I don’t believe this Mercedes is going to steal this.
Simone: And she is going to do so by hurting her own partner in the process.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
DING DING DING!
Lunam: She did it!
Simone: Mercedes Vargas has won this match for Fire & Fury!!!
Drew Patton calls for the bell. It sounds loudly as the time keeper walks over and hands him the World Bombshell Championship.
Mercedes Vargas smirks as she stands up and looks down at Seleana. With everything that was being said she begins to assault the Swedish woman and stomps her out repeatedly as the fans begin to boo loudly.
Lunam: This is disgusting! Vargas already won the match but she’s still taking her frustration out on her rival.
Simone: Someone needs to get her off of Seleana, and Zenna is still out.
The bell sounds loudly as Vargas rolls out of the ring and grabs a steel chair. She lays it on the ground and yanks the Swedish woman up for another Black Rose Overdrive. She begins to set her up over a shoulder planning to send her head first against the chair.
Lunam: If Mercedes hits this she may very well end Seleana’s career.
Simone: Somebody needs to get security in there.
Before she could go any further though the crowd begins to cheer loudly as Crystal is back on her feet. She sees her wife in trouble and decides to spear Mercedes to the ground which causes the crowd to cheer loudly.
Lunam: Yes!!! Crystal just saved her wife.
Simone: This Las Vegas crowd is loving it and they are actually cheering for Crystal.
Crowd: CRYSTAL! CRYSTAL! CRYSTAL!
Mercedes is forced to drop Seleana and that is when Crystal walks over to her wife and checks on her.
Justin: And the winner of this match as a result of a pin fall FIRE & FURY!!
Mercedes Vargas angrily stands up as Drew wants to raise both of their hands. Vargas snatches the World Bombshell Championship and begins to raise it high into the air, but Drew Patton snatches it away and tells her she isn’t the champ.
Justin: And as a result of the stipulations of this match and STILL YOUR WORLD BOMBSHELL CHAMPION CRYSTAL CA….ZDUNICH!!!!!!!!!!!
The crowd begins to cheer Crystal being announced as Zdunich but Mercedes isn’t happy as she snatches the title away from Patton. Crystal helps her wife up trying to make sure that Seleana is okay but Mercedes takes the championship and she uses it to smash against the face of Crystal dropping her to the ground. Crystal is laid out and Vargas takes the title and smashes it against the face of Seleana dropping her as well. Crystal is busted open as Mercedes lifts her up by the hair and screams at her.
Mercedes: I MADE YOU! I HELPED YOU BECOME CHAMPION AND YOU CHOOSE HER?! I AM GOING TO END YOU!!!
Crystal is defenseless as the blood continues to drip down her face. Vargas lifts Crystal up over her shoulders setting her up for a Black Rose Overdrive and she drops her head first onto the chair. The crowd boos loudly as she looks at the World Bombshell Championship holding it high into the air before throwing it on Crystal. She leaves the ring to the sound of boos as Zenna slides into the ring checking on Seleana. Seleana shakes herself off of the pain as she focuses on her motionless life screaming.
Seleana: GET ME AN EMT!!! MY WIFE NEEDS HELP JA!!!
EMTS quickly run to the ring and load the champion onto a stretcher as Vargas leaves to the sound of boos.
The scene opens with World Heavyweight Champion Helluva Bottom Carter standing in his private dressing room, dressed in his ring gear — a shimmering rainbow unitard, white boots, and his violet feathered jacket. Purple shades cover his eyes, and the World Title belt rests in his hand. He stands stoic, one arm stretched along the wall, his forehead pressed against it. A long breath. The room is quiet except for the faint muffled roar of the MGM Grand crowd bleeding through the walls.
HBCarter: This was supposed to be… a thrilling week. I was supposed to be in that headspace — locked in, dialed up, smiling to myself because I could finally take down Alexander Raven… and prove I’m exactly what I say I am. All talk. All smoke. All mirrors.
Carter’s grip tightens on the championship. He slowly lifts his head from the wall, still not facing the camera.
HBCarter: But real life has a habit of being a real bitch sometimes. The world saw the news. And some people out there… they don’t know boundaries. They don’t know “enough.” They don’t know “stop.” Makes you realize the world is a more dangerous place than you ever dared to worry about.
He finally stands upright, turns, and glares straight into the camera through those purple shades — jaw set, voice low and razor-edged.
HBCarter: But none of that is going to be enough to save Alexander Raven tonight. None of it can protect his fragile ego… and that even more fragile mental state he keeps pretending is strength. Tonight? The world around Raven is going to shatter. Just like mine did.
Carter takes one step forward, bringing the title up slightly — not to show it off, but to remind the camera what’s in his hand and what’s on the line.
HBCarter: The only difference is… I can pick up the pieces and rebuild. Alexander can’t.
Carter reaches out and pushes the camera aside, the image jolting as he brushes past. The last glimpse is the violet feathers trailing behind him as he exits the frame, marching toward the main event.
The camera cuts backstage in a hurry as EMTs burst through the curtain, wheeling a gurney at full speed down the hallway. Crystal Zdunich lies flat on the stretcher, her face smeared with blood, one arm strapped down as her chest rises in shaky breaths.
Seleana Zdunich rushes alongside the gurney, one hand gripping the rail, her eyes wide and frantic as she tries to keep pace.
Seleana: Crystal, stay with me! Please, stay with me!
Zenna Zdunich hurries on the other side, shouting down the hall as production staff scramble out of the way. The EMTs push faster, the wheels rattling as they turn a corner and disappear out of frame, Seleana and Zenna right beside Crystal as the shot fades.
Justin: Ladies and gentlemen, we are back live at ringside and it is time for our MAIN EVENT here at INCEPTION VIII!
The camera sweeps across the roaring crowd, signs lifted high, phones glowing like fireflies in the darkness, before snapping back to the ring where referee Jasmine St. John steps between the ropes with crisp authority. She checks each turnbuckle pad with a quick tug, scans the ringside area like she’s already anticipating trouble, and then plants herself dead center.
Simone: This is the moment we’ve been building to all night long! World Heavyweight Championship on the line, and two men who do not just dislike each other, they despise each other!
Lunam: Aye, this isn’t a grudge match, Simone, this is a vendetta with a referee in the middle hopin’ she can keep it from turnin’ into a full-on riot!
The arena lights suddenly dip. Then the opening riff of “Kafka” by Jinjer rips through the speakers like a blade.
A dark, bruised blue floods the arena, turning the crowd into silhouettes. Smoke billows from the entranceway and rolls down the ramp in thick waves, a storm cloud of fog swallowing the stage until the curtain is just a shadow behind a haze.
“Hardly in the spirit of the era. Dedicate and thin skinned. From that smoke, slow, deliberate, Alexander Raven bursts forward. He doesn’t sprint. He emerges, eyes wide and unblinking as he scans the arena with a surgeon’s detachment, like he’s already measured the angles of every bone in the building. His face is drawn and stoic, nostrils flaring once as he nods faintly to himself, the smallest sign of appetite. He extends his hand out to his side. And from the smoke steps Luna Pasilno, black velvet shimmer and cold, confident poise, taking his hand as though she’s placing a crown on a king’s head.
“Beauty of looks, beauty of faults. Hand in hand, they start their slow walk down the ramp. Raven never hurries. He lets every second breathe. He lets the boos wash over him like it’s applause with different packaging. Luna’s chin is tipped up, her expression smug, her eyes already tracking the ring and more importantly, the referee.
One appeared in front of the jury. Face uncovered in front of the jury.”
Frightened and offhand. Deaf to a command.”
Simone: Listen to this reaction! This arena has no love for Alexander Raven!
Lunam: And he’ll drink it like holy water. Raven’s the kind of man who thrives when a whole room wants him gone because it means he’s done his job!
As they reach the apron, Raven and Luna release each other’s hands with practiced ease. Raven steps onto the ring apron, tall and composed, then turns his head back toward Luna. Their eyes lock, no smile, no wink, just an unspoken exchange that feels like strategy and marriage vows twisted into one.
Raven steps backward through the ropes without breaking that gaze, like he refuses to ever show her his back. He moves toward the center of the ring, slow as a tide, and stops. Luna circles the ringside area and takes her place near the timekeeper side, hands folded, lips curved with a self-satisfied calm. Raven stands dead center, eyes still fixed on Luna as if he’s waiting for her to tell him when to strike.
Simone: That right there, look at that body language. Raven isn’t just confident. He’s composed in a way that feels unsettling.
Lunam: Aye, because it’s calculated. And we’ve seen what he’s been willin’ to do to get here. He didn’t just earn this shot, he took it! Piece by piece, week by week, with every dirty trick he could fit up his sleeve!
Raven paces once, then leans into the ropes, stretching his shoulders with slow, deliberate rolls. His eyes flick to the entrance, then to Jasmine, then back to Luna, like he’s checking all the pieces on the board before the first move.
The lights drop again, and then the techno beat hits.
Lady Gaga’s “Born This Way” explodes through the sound system, and the entire arena shifts from cold menace to electric celebration in an instant. The crowd turns toward the stage like it’s instinct. And there he is, Helluva Bottom Carter, dancing out through the curtain amid a tidal wave of cheers.
Simone: HERE COMES THE CHAMPION!
He’s clad in his favorite ostrich jacket, lavender sparkle catching the light with every movement, and sparkling lavender shades over his eyes. He bows deep and theatrical, sweeping at the waist, then blows a kiss into the sea of screaming fans like he’s blessing them.
Lunam: Listen t’ this place! That’s not just cheers, that’s people showin’ up for a man they believe in.
Carter starts down the ramp with a grin that looks like courage made visible. He slaps hands on both sides, moving fast, feeding off the energy like it’s fuel. He hits the aisle corners, leaning in, touching fingertips, nodding, letting the crowd remind him what he’s fighting for. Every few steps he does a little bounce, a shoulder pop, a playful flourish because that’s Carter. Then he runs the final stretch, slides around ringside, and hops onto the apron in a split that makes the front row lose their minds. He glides under the bottom rope and lands inside the ring like he was born there.
Carter crawls on all fours, slow, seductive, deliberate, eyes locked toward Raven even through the purple lenses. He reaches his corner, pulls himself upright, and finally removes the shades and jacket, handing them off to a ringside attendant with the casual confidence of a man stepping into his own myth. Then he stretches back across the top turnbuckle, draped in the corner, waiting, calm on the outside, coiled underneath.
Simone: Carter has fought through every kind of pressure as champion. He’s faced the best in the world, he’s carried this company’s biggest target on his back and recently, he’s endured something no athlete should ever have to; real-world turmoil that goes far beyond the ring.
Lunam: Aye. When you’re dealin’ with a stalker attack, when your safety gets threatened outside the ropes, there’s no “turn it off” switch. And yet here he is. Still standin’. Still champion. Still walkin’ into the biggest match of the year’s first night like he refuses to be broken.
Simone: And Raven knows that. He knows exactly what Carter has survived and he’s the type of man who sees survival as a weakness he can exploit.
The camera tightens on the ring. Carter rises from the corner and steps forward. Raven steps forward from center. Jasmine St. John glances between them once like she’s reading the tension, then motions for Justin to begin the official announcements.
Justin: Ladies and gentlemen THIS IS THE MAIN EVENT OF INCEPTION VIII! And it is scheduled for one fall and it is FOR THE WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP!
The crowd detonates!
Justin: Introducing first… the challenger… accompanied to the ring by Luna Pasilno… from Melbourne, Victoria, Australia… weighing in at two hundred and twenty-five pounds… ALEXANDER RAVEN!
The boos are immediate and vicious. Luna applauds like she’s hearing a standing ovation, her claps slow and mocking. Raven spreads his arms, turning in a slow circle, soaking in the hatred, mugging for the camera with a look that says he thinks every fan is beneath him.
Simone: He’s enjoying this.
Lunam: Of course he is. He feeds off it like it’s dinner.
Justin: And his opponent! From Seattle, Washington, weighing in at one hundred and seventy-two pounds, he is the reigning, defending WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION! HELLUVA BOTTOM CARTER!
The crowd explodes again, louder than before. Carter lifts the World title belt high above his head, turning it toward each side of the arena like he’s sharing it with the people who carried him here. He thumps the gold once with his palm then holds it up again, eyes blazing.
Simone: That championship has become a symbol of resilience, of pride, of refusing to be pushed back into the shadows.
Lunam: And Raven wants to snatch it and stamp his name on it like it’s property.
Carter steps forward and hands the title belt to Jasmine St. John. Jasmine grips it with both hands and Luna immediately slides in, reaching out with a sweet, fake smile, trying to take the belt for “safe keeping.”
Simone: Oh come on Luna!
Lunam: Look at her! Like she’s borrowin’ sugar from a neighbor! Get outta here with that!
Jasmine’s head snaps toward Luna. With one sharp motion she tears the belt out of Luna’s grasp and pulls it back to her chest, eyes hard, warning written across her face. Luna’s smile drops into a glare, and she backs away, irritated and offended like she’s the victim.
Simone: Jasmine St. John not having it. Not for one second!
Lunam: That’s a referee who knows exactly what kind of night this could become.
Jasmine steps to the center of the ring and holds the World Heavyweight Championship high over her head, turning slowly so every section of the arena can see the gold. Carter watches with calm intensity. Raven watches like a man staring at a meal.
Luna slips back out of the ring, circling to her preferred spot at ringside, close enough to interfere, far enough to pretend innocence.
Jasmine hands the belt to the timekeeper, then turns back toward both men. She checks each of them, quick glance at Carter’s boots, Raven’s wrist tape, then points between them, issuing final instructions with authority. Carter nods once. Raven smirks.
Jasmine steps back and calls for the bell.
DING DING DING!
Simone: The bell has rung and I swear you can feel the temperature in this arena change.
Lunam: Aye, it’s like the air’s turned to glass, Simone,one wrong move and somebody’s gettin’ cut.
They circle. Carter’s footwork is quick, darting, lateral; he shifts his stance twice in three seconds, giving Raven angles that never settle. Raven’s hands are high, fingers flexing, the classic catch-as-catch-can invitation: come close and I’ll take a limb home with me. Carter feints a collar-and-elbow, Raven bites just enough to reach, and Carter snaps a sharp kick into Raven’s thigh, not to topple him, but to sting him and test him. Raven barely gives him the satisfaction of a wobble, only a brief tightening around the eyes.
Raven lunges for the tie-up anyway, and Carter slides inside the reach, hooking a wrist and twisting into a standing hammerlock. Raven immediately counters, he snakes his free arm under Carter’s elbow and rolls his shoulder, trying to reverse the torque into his own hammerlock. Carter pivots, ducks low, spins out, and they end up in mirrored wrist control, each trying to leverage the other off-balance. It’s technical, fast, and mean, no applause breaks, no “good show” energy. Just the sense that each exchange is a stepping stone toward something uglier.
Simone: They’re not feeling each other out. They’re trying to solve each other.
Lunam: Raven wants a joint. Carter wants a gap. That’s the story, break the man, or outpace the monster.
Raven suddenly stamps down on Carter’s foot, and yanks Carter forward into a short-armed snapmare. Carter rolls through the impact and tries to spring back up, but Raven’s already at his back, lacing arms for a belly-to-back suplex. Carter widens his base, hooks a leg, and fights the lift, elbows flaring. Raven changes tactic mid-motion, wrenching Carter’s arm into a standing arm wringer and then jerking it again, torquing the shoulder. Carter grimaces, shakes his head, and flips forward, cartwheel escape, landing light and snapping a standing dropkick right into Raven’s chest this time, forcing the challenger two steps back. But Raven answers with a thrust kick that catches Carter in the ribs as he lands.
Carter folds for a heartbeat, breath punched out, and Raven pounces with a Lou Thesz Press, driving Carter to the mat and unloading straight punches. They aren’t pretty; they aren’t meant to be. Raven’s fists are hard, short arcs, all malice and leverage, and Jasmine St. John is already down on her knees, counting and warning.
Simone: Raven is just raining down fists,Jasmine St. John trying to keep this from turning into a street fight!
Lunam: He can’t out-fly Carter, so he’ll ground him and then grind him.
Carter blocks one punch with a forearm, turns his head, eats another glancing blow, and then bucks his hips hard, slipping Raven’s balance forward. Carter shoves at the chest and scrambles, but Raven grabs a headlock on the rise and cranks it tight, grinding Carter’s face into his side like he’s sanding down wood. Carter’s hands immediately go to Raven’s wrist,trying to peel it,then to his own waist,trying to shift his hips. Raven, sensing the escape, plants and wrenches, taking Carter down with a headlock takeover and keeping that squeeze like a vice.
Carter’s legs bicycle. He tries to bridge, tries to rotate, tries to thread an arm in for a counter. Raven floats with him, heavy and experienced, adjusting pressure, occasionally dragging Carter’s forehead across the canvas to remind him this isn’t a spar.
Lunam: That’s old-school cruelty, so it is. Raven’s makin’ him carry the weight and carry the shame.
Carter finally threads a leg around Raven’s head and kips,half-scissor,forcing enough separation to turn to his knees. Raven cinches again, trying to drag him back down, but Carter plants both palms and walks his feet under him, rising despite the pressure. The crowd surges as Carter stands, Raven still clamped around his skull. Carter fires short shots into Raven’s ribs, one, two, three, and then swings Raven off him with a shove, hitting the ropes and rebounding with a slingblade that snaps Raven over and down.
Simone: Slingblade! Carter finally creates space!
Carter doesn’t waste it. He hits a basement dropkick right into Raven’s side as Raven sits up and Raven topples, clutching his ribs, annoyance flickering into anger. Carter slides to the apron and springs ,springboard elbow aimed at the heart. Raven rolls just enough that Carter lands partly on Raven’s shoulder and chest; it still jars Raven, but it’s not the clean bullseye Carter wanted. Carter hooks the leg anyway!
ONE! Raven kicks out with authority, shoving Carter off like an insult.
TWO!
Kick out!
Lunam: Too early, too much Raven in the tank. But Carter’s made him feel it.
Raven rises, and Carter tries to chop him down again with speed, tilt-a-whirl hurricanrana attempt, only Raven clamps down mid-spin, catching Carter like a trapped animal and throws him over with an exploder suplex, snapping Carter backward and sideways, launching him across the mat! Carter lands hard, shoulders bouncing, and Raven is on him instantly, not for a pin, but to hook Carter’s arms behind him and roll him into a Romero Special. Carter’s spine arches, legs kicking, arms stretched back like he’s being pulled apart!
Simone: Romero Special! Raven is pulling Carter in half!
Carter’s face tightens, his teeth bare. He reaches his toes toward the rope, but Raven leans back farther, making the ropes feel like a mile away! Carter inhales, then exhales with force, and uses that breath to rock his hips. He rolls his shoulder, twists, and somehow snags enough leverage to tip Raven sideways. The hold loosens for half a second. Carter immediately rolls through, yanking his arms free, and shoots forward into a guillotine choke as Raven rises.
Lunam: Guillotine! He’s caught him, he’s caught him!
Raven’s hands fly to Carter’s waist, trying to pry him off, but Carter cinches tight, legs wrapping and scissoring, dragging Raven down.! Raven’s head is trapped beneath Carter’s arm, Carter’s biceps flexing, forearm digging into the throat. Raven’s face flushes red, then purple at the edges, and he scrambles toward the ropes.
Luna Pasilno’s eyes sharpen. She shifts closer, hands on the apron, posture coiled. Jasmine St. John is on the opposite side, checking Carter’s grip and Raven’s responsiveness. Raven’s fingertips scrape canvas, one inch, two, then he lunges and grabs the rope! The crowd pops, half cheering the escape, half booing the relief! Jasmine orders the break. Carter releases at four, but with a little extra squeeze on the way out, just enough to send a message. Raven coughs, throat raw, and glares up at Carter like he’s promising a receipt.
Simone: Carter is not giving Raven a single comfortable second.
Lunam: And Raven’s already thinkin’ about revenge, that’s the danger. He doesn’t forget pain,he catalogs it.
Raven surges forward the moment he can breathe, catching Carter with a brawling forearm that whips Carter’s head sideways. Carter fires back with a stiff forearm of his own, and suddenly it is a fight, forearm, forearm, palm strike, and Raven answers with a straight punch that snaps Carter’s head back! Jasmine warns again, closed fists, and Raven throws his hands up innocently while Luna claps and laughs.
Carter wipes at his mouth, sees a smear of red, and his eyes go colder. He sends Raven into the far corner and charges for a handspring clothesline attempt but Raven ducks and Carter collides hard with the turnbuckles. Raven traps Carter by the waist and snaps him backward with a German suplex,bridging beautifully!
ONE!
TWO!
Kick out!
Simone: That was a gorgeous German suplex,and a near fall!
Lunam: Raven’s suplexes aren’t just throws, they’re statements. “Stay down.” That’s what he’s sayin’!
Raven drags Carter up by the wrist, spins behind, and hits another German, this one with a higher arc, Carter flipping and landing nearer the ropes. Raven doesn’t bridge this time; he floats right into a standing elbow drop to the sternum! He hooks the leg.
ONE! Raven smiles, almost pleased, and turns Carter over into a Boston Crab, sitting deep, knee in the spine, wrenching Carter’s back. Carter claws at the mat. The ropes are within reach, but Raven drags him back to center with a brutal pull, re-sitting deeper and bouncing once to spike the pain!
TWO!
Kick out!
Simone: Boston Crab in the center of the ring! Carter’s in trouble!
Lunam: Raven’s clever. He’ll take the flight out of him by takin’ the back and the ribs. Can’t soar if ye can’t breathe.
Carter grits his teeth and begins the slow crawl anyway, elbows digging, inch by inch! The crowd claps rhythmically, willing him forward. Raven glances toward Luna, smirks, and then, while Jasmine is checking Carter’s face for a possible verbal submission, Raven reaches down and grabs Carter’s chin, yanking it back in a nasty extra torque. Carter cries out, and Raven’s eyes gleam. Luna, ever the opportunist, slides closer to the far side and reaches in, just a finger-hook, catching the bottom rope and pulling it away from Carter by a fraction. It’s subtle, but it matters.
Simone: Luna! Luna is right there! Jasmine doesn’t see it!
Lunam: She’s pullin’ the rope!
Carter stretches, fingertips brushing air where rope should be! Raven laughs and leans back harder! Carter, furious, changes strategy. He tucks his knees, kicks upward, and uses the sudden bend to roll his hips. Raven’s grip shifts. Carter twists again, roll-through and Raven is forced to release or get flipped. Carter scrambles up on adrenaline and nails a shining wizard to Raven’s jaw as Raven rises! Raven staggers, eyes unfocused for a heartbeat! Carter doesn’t let him reset. He grabs Raven by the legs and swings him into a giant swing! Carter rotating, the arena blurring. Carter spins him six, seven, eight revolutions, each one faster, until Raven’s face tightens with disorientation! Carter releases Raven, sending him flying and landing near a corner in a heap!
Simone: Giant swing! Carter just turned Raven into a projectile!
Lunam: He’s not the bigger man, but he’s the meaner whirlwind.
Carter charges the corner and slams a bronco buster into Raven! The crowd is LOVING it! The humiliation! Carter rolls off backwards and leaps to his feet! He races around the ring, building momentum! He charges straight into the corner and jumps for a cannonball but Raven rolls aside and Carter strikes the corner upside down and crumbles to the mat! Raven rises and snaps a facewasher boot into Carter’s face as Carter tries to sit up, sole grinding across cheekbone, then another vicious push! Jasmine admonishes him, pulling at Raven’s arm, and Raven spreads his hands like he’s innocent again, but he’s smiling as he does it.
Carter wipes his face, eyes blazing, and Raven seizes the wrist, short-arm whip into the ropes. Carter rebounds, ducking a lariat, and jumps into the ropes and springboards back into a diving meteora,he launches and drives both knees into Raven’s chest.
ONE!
TWO!
Kick out!
Lunam: That was close enough to taste! Carter’s got him on a string now if he can keep him there!
Carter hauls Raven up, looking for the Metallic Driver. Raven blocks by dropping his weight, slipping behind, and trapping Carter’s arms, double hammerlock position. The arena collectively inhales, recognizing danger.
Simone: He’s got the grip that’s the setup for the Kingslayer!
Carter fights, thrashing his hips, but Raven hooks deeper and yanks backward into the Double Hammerlock DDT, THE KINGSLAYER, driving Carter’s skull into the canvas like a spike! The crowd gasps. Luna leaps up, clapping wildly! Raven covers immediately, pressing his forearm across Carter’s face!
ONE! Carter kicks out at the last possible instant! Raven’s eyes go wide with rage, and for the first time he looks less like a surgeon and more like a brawler who just had his favorite weapon taken away.
TWO!
KICK OUT!
Simone: HOW?! Carter kicked out of the Kingslayer!
Lunam: He’s runnin’ on spite and championship blood, Belinda. That’s all heart, no logic.
Raven slaps the mat, stands, and drags Carter up by the hair. Jasmine warns him and Raven responds by tossing Carter through the ropes to the outside! Carter lands on his feet but stumbles into the barricade, ribs screaming. Raven follows, sliding out with predatory patience. The count begins.
ONE! Raven chops Carter across the chest then whips him toward the ring post. Carter turns at the last second, planting a boot on the post and pushing off, trying to springboard away, but Raven catches him mid-motion and hurls him with a belly-to-back suplex onto the thin padding at ringside! Carter’s back hits with a sick thud and he rolls, clutching at his spine!
THREE! Luna prowls closer, eyes gleaming, whispering something to Raven. Raven nods once and drags Carter up to the barricade, pressing Carter’s throat across the top rail and leaning his weight, choking him against the crowd’s front row fury! Jasmine steps out, warning Raven to break!
FIVE!
Raven lets go as Carter crumples forward, hiding the impact with his own body positioning so Jasmine’s view is partially blocked.
TWO!
FOUR!
Lunam: He’s tryin’ to win on the floor if he can’t win in the ring. He doesn’t care where Carter breaks.
SIX! Raven drags Carter by the arm and rolls him in under the bottom rope, then slides in himself at eight, snapping his fingers at Jasmine like the count is a toy he owns. Carter is on hands and knees, breathing like he’s swallowing knives. Raven tries to end it with an armbar, falling back and yanking Carter’s arm straight! Carter screams and scrambles to the corner, pulling himself up. Raven hooks for another German but Carter flips out mid-throw attempt, landing behind Raven and hitting a Poison-Rana, spiking Raven’s skull into the mat!
Raven kicks out again, but this time he rolls immediately to the apron, desperate for separation. Carter rises, shaking his arms out, and sees Luna leaning close, yelling instructions. Carter goes for the XXXTreme Facial, Devil’s Kiss, pulling Raven in by the head on the apron. Raven fights it, elbows flailing! Jasmine is watching Carter and Raven carefully which is exactly when Luna strikes. She slips around the far side of the post and, with Jasmine’s attention split, Luna grabs Carter’s ankle and yanks, pulling Carter off-balance! Carter’s face snaps toward her, shock turning instantly to fury, and Raven uses that moment to clothesline Carter from behind!
SEVEN!
TWO!
KICK OUT!
Simone: Luna just grabbed Carter’s leg! And Raven capitalized!
Lunam: That’s the second set of hands, and it changes everything! It’s poison in the middle of a fair fight!
Raven covers!
ONE! Raven drags Carter up, sets him in a corner, and unloads brawling punches to the body, then the face! Raven then snaps a standing elbow drop across Carter’s collarbone in the corner, grinding bone. He hoists Carter onto the top rope, climbing with him, looking for something catastrophic. Carter fights back with headbutts, short and sharp, then a forearm. Raven wobbles. Carter suddenly springs over Raven, bringing him crashing down with a sunset Bomb!
Carter folds Raven in half!
ONE! Raven kicks out at the last fraction! Carter slaps the mat in frustration, then immediately transitions, trying to cinch the Full Windsor Knot. He hooks Raven’s legs and twists, attempting to lock the intricate and humiliating hold. Raven panics,real panic,scrambling, twisting, trying to free his knee.
TWO!
Kick out!
TWO!
TH-KICK OUT!
Lunam: Full Windsor Knot! Ye can feel yer own dignity askin’ for mercy!
Raven claws toward the ropes. Carter drags him back. Raven, desperate, reaches out and Luna reaches in, sliding her hand under Raven’s boot, pushing it toward the rope. Jasmine is on the opposite side checking Carter’s grip and can’t see the assist!
Simone: Luna again! She’s helping Raven reach the rope!
Raven’s toe hooks the bottom rope. Jasmine calls for the break. Carter releases, furious, pointing at Luna, but Jasmine can only warn what she didn’t witness cleanly!
Carter storms toward the ropes to confront Luna directly, one step too close to distraction. Raven is already up behind him, hooking both arms,another Kingslayer attempt. Carter senses it and fires back with a back elbow, then spins and hits a double knee lungblower, snapping Raven down! Carter tries to go for the cover but Raven rolls completely out of the ring and to the outside!
ONE! Carter doesn’t wait. He slides out and the moment his feet hit the floor, Raven charges, tackling him into the barricade! Raven grinds his forearm into Carter’s throat and whips the blows against his head! Carter answers by headbutting Raven in the cheekbone, then driving Raven backward with body shots!
THREE! Raven grabs Carter’s arm and tries to whip him into the steps. Carter reverses, sending Raven stumbling! Raven hops the steps last second, but Carter is already behind him, snapping a quick inverted frankensteiner on the floor. Raven crashes and rolls, clutching his neck, eyes wild!
FIVE! Carter hauls Raven up, trying to roll him in. Raven resists, hooking the apron with his fingers. Carter clubs his back!
SEVEN!
Raven swings an elbow back into Carter’s head, then drives his face into the apron! Raven then snapping a belly-to-back suplex that drops Carter across the floor again.
EIGHT! Raven rolls in at nine. Carter, gasping, drags himself under the bottom rope just before…
TEN-NO! Carter beats it in time, barely sliding in at nine-and-three-quarters, saving the match by a heartbeat!
TWO!
FOUR!
SIX!
NINE!
Simone: Carter almost got counted out!
Lunam: That’s what a villain does! He doesn’t win pretty, he wins period!
Raven pounces immediately, grabbing Carter’s arm and wrenching into an armbar, falling back with full body weight and snapping the hold tight! Carter’s fingers claw at Raven’s hands, his face contorts. Raven adjusts, trying to hyperextend the elbow! Raven releases and stomps Carter’s arm, then drags him up into a guillotine back breaker! Raven dumps him to the mat and covers him!
ONE! Carter kicks out, but his arm is limp for a second, and Raven notices like a shark notices blood. Raven grinds his boot into Carter’s ribs, then drags him upright and hooks the double hammerlock again.
TWO!
KICK OUT!
Simone: Kingslayer setup again,Raven is obsessed with ending Carter’s reign!
Carter suddenly flips forward, hooking his leg behind Raven’s own and turns it into a surprise cradle from out of nowhere!
ONE! Carter climbs the ropes, one step at a time, ribs aching, arm throbbing, but purpose burning. Raven is on his knees, trying to clear the fog! Raven stands and turns around and Carter goes for a missile dropkick but Alexander moves and Carter crashes hard on his back! Carter sits up, clutching his back, his face a mask of pain!
TWO!
Kick out!
Lunam: That one mistake has got to have cost Carter the championship!
Raven stands, shaking with rage, and signals to Luna with a subtle hand motion. Luna nods and reaches under her skirt’s hidden pocket. She pulls out something slim and metallic then tries to slide the weapon into Raven’s reach. But Jasmine pivots at the last second. She snatches the weapon mid-slide and whips her head toward Luna like thunder!
Simone: SHE CAUGHT IT! Jasmine caught the weapon!
Lunam: Oh, thank the saints! Luna’s been playin’ puppet master all night!
Jasmine stands, holding the weapon up for the entire arena to see! Luna’s face transforms, innocent outrage, hands up, denial spilling from her mouth as she protests! Raven storms toward Jasmine, shouting, palms out, demanding she “use her head,” demanding anything that delays consequence! Jasmine points straight at Luna and makes the unmistakable gesture.
EJECTED!!!
The crowd erupts as security moves in! Luna shrieks, furious, fighting the escort, pointing at Carter like he’s the criminal! Raven turns fully toward the argument, stepping away from Carter, still shouting, still gesturing, his attention soaked in the injustice of being denied his shortcut!
Simone: Luna Pasilno has been thrown out! Raven is losing his mind!
Lunam: That’s the crack in the armor! He’s too busy protestin’ to notice the storm behind him!
Carter climbs fast to the top rope. He steadies, crouched! Raven finally turns around and Carter leaps and nails it! The Fruit Fly (Eclipse)! Carter stays on him, hooking the leg tight!
ONE! DING DING DING!
The arena explodes into thunderous applause while Carter collapses backward, chest heaving, eyes squeezed shut in exhausted relief! Jasmine St. John reaches down and takes the World Heavyweight Championship belt and hands it to Carter!
TWO!
THREE!
Justin: Here is your winner! And STILL World Heavyweight Champion! HELLUVA BOTTOM CARTER!!!
Simone: HE DID IT! Helluva Bottom Carter survives Alexander Raven and Luna Pasilno and RETAINS the World Heavyweight Championship!
Lunam: That’s pure grit, Simone! Raven threw every dirty trick he had and Carter still finished him!
Carter pulls the title to his chest like it’s oxygen and pushes himself upright, wincing, but smiling through the pain as the crowd roars his name and Jasmine raises his free arm in victory! Raven stirs on the mat, blinking in disbelief, staring up at the lights as if they betrayed him. On the ramp, Luna is still being escorted away, screaming fury into the void, but the story is already written!
Lunam: Listen t’ that roar, Simone! That's what a proper start to a new year sounds like! Inception VIII has been pure fire from the first bell to the last, and if this is how 2026 is introducin’ itself then we’re in for a wild, wild ride.
Simone: What a night. What a statement. The first event of 2026, and it felt like every single person in this building came ready to witness history. Championships defended, grudges exploded, and in the main event! Helluva Bottom Carter just survived an absolute war.
Lunam: And don’t ye forget,Raven’s the kind of man who doesn’t take this and walk away quiet. He’s gonna stew on it, he’s gonna fester, and he’s gonna come back meaner. But tonight? Tonight belongs to the champion. Tonight belongs to the people who came here wantin’ chaos and got a masterpiece.
Simone: From everyone here, production, crew, athletes, officials, thank you for being part of Inception VIII, and thank you for joining us for the first event of 2026! We kicked off the year the only way we know how: loud, proud, and unforgettable!
Lunam: Aye, whether ye watched from ringside or halfway ‘round the world, we appreciate every second ye gave us. Don’t go anywhere in 2026 because after what we’ve seen tonight, there’s no tellin’ what comes next!
Simone: For Erik Lunam, I’m Belinda Simone! Goodnight from Inception VIII!
The camera cuts wide. Carter stands on the second rope, World Heavyweight Championship raised high over his head, soaking in the thunder of the crowd! Behind him, Alexander Raven backs up the aisle, one hand on his jaw, eyes burning holes through the ring. He points,sharp, deliberate, right at Carter, then drags his finger across his own throat like a promise before turning away into the shadows!
The fireworks go off, continuing the epic celebration as the camera slowly fades out to credits.
THANK YOU! To everyone who wrote for this show. Match writers and segments are always appreciated and highly valued! Without all of you, there would be no SCW!