The broadcast opens on an outside shot of the Selland Arena in Fresno, California. The camera glides over the city: the glow of downtown, passing headlights and neon, the silhouette of palms and streetlamps, a quick sweep of familiar Fresno corners before snapping back to the arena’s front plaza.
Fans pack the sidewalks and spill into organized lines that still feel like a party. SCW shirts, replica belts, homemade signs held high, arms waving like they’re trying to pull the camera closer by sheer hype.
The shot catches signs in quick, punchy flashes:
CLIMAX CONTROL = MY THERAPY
FRESNO FEARS NO ONE
ROAD TO BLAZE STARTS HERE
I SKIPPED DINNER FOR VIOLENCE
HUGGINKISS 4 PRESIDENT
CLAP IF YOU’RE READY TO GET HURT
People chant, cheer, stomp their feet against the concrete, and point at the lens like it owes them a moment. A group near the barricade erupts as the camera passes, one guy practically vibrating with excitement as he throws up both hands and screams into the night.
The scene transitions inside. Selland Arena is a living thing right now: a capacity crowd on its feet, hands in the air, towels spinning, phones up like a galaxy of tiny screens. The camera pans across sections of screaming fans, then up to the hard cam side where a wave of people rises and collapses in motion like an ocean swell. Signs bob above heads. People jump. Someone is already crying happy tears and refusing to be embarrassed about it.
Then the lens swings down the ramp, across ringside, and settles on the six-sided ring where ring announcer Justin Decent stands dead-center, owning the moment like it’s his birthright.
Justin is dressed to cause problems. A fitted, sleeveless, deep-cut top that shows just enough skin to make the front row suddenly forget how to blink. Slim black pants that look painted on, boots that gleam under the lights, and around his neck a bold gold collar necklace that catches every flash of the cameras like it’s trying to start its own chant. He holds the mic with a practiced ease, smiling like he knows exactly how loud this place is about to get.
Justin: Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Fresno, California!
The crowd detonates.
Justin: Welcome to SCW Climax Control!
The hard cam shakes slightly from the sound. Justin rides it, letting the cheers swell, then raises a hand like a conductor pulling an orchestra into the next movement.
Justin: Look at you! Listen to you! Selland Arena is absolutely packed, and you all came hungry because tonight, SCW brings the heat and the fight right here in the heart of Fresno! And let’s not forget what this means, because tonight, we are on the Road to Blaze of Glory XV!
That phrase lands like a match dropped in gasoline. The fans roar again, louder, some booing the names they already hate, others chanting for their favorites like it’s a life-or-death vote.
Justin: Every win matters. Every loss stings. Every rival is watching. Every champion has a target on their back, and every contender is trying to carve their name into the future!
Justin steps closer to the ropes on one side, raising his voice.
Justin: If you’re ready to start this night the right way, then allow me to introduce SCW’s own… Hostess With the Mostess Miss Amanda Hugginkiss!
The arena explodes into cheers and applause as the stage lights flare. Music hits, and the camera catches the curtain moving, like the show itself just took a deep breath. Amanda Hugginkiss steps out onto the stage and instantly makes it feel like her stage. Amanda raises her arms slowly, dramatically, turning her head from side to side as if she’s personally greeting every section of the building. She takes two steps, stops, and lets the crowd scream again like they’re refilling her battery. She presses a hand to her chest like the applause is so overwhelming she might faint, then fans herself with exaggerated elegance.
Amanda: Hello, Fresno! Hello, world! Hello to everyone watching at home, and hello to everyone here tonight who remembered deodorant! Thank you for your service.
The crowd laughs and cheers. Amanda leans toward the camera, squinting like she’s spotted something scandalous through the lens. She points directly at it, wagging her finger in mock disapproval.
Amanda: And you … yes, you. Put on some pants in the presence of a lady!
The fans howl. Somewhere in the lower bowl, someone screams like they’ve been personally attacked. Amanda nods, satisfied.
Amanda: Honestly. No home training.
She takes a few slow steps across the stage, scanning the front rows with the precision of a woman looking for chaos to adopt.
Amanda: Oh, I love Fresno. Fresno shows up ready. Fresno looks like it can fight. Fresno looks like it has bail money.
A cheer rises, half pride, half confession. Amanda points down to ringside, singling out a fan holding a sign.
Amanda: Oh! You with the sign that says I SKIPPED DINNER FOR VIOLENCE! Sweetheart, that’s not a sign, that’s a cry for help.
The fan pumps a fist. The crowd laughs.
Amanda: And I support you. But I also need you to eat a vegetable at some point. Not a garnish. A vegetable.
Amanda pivots toward another section, eyes narrowing at someone a few rows up, like she just detected a crime.
Amanda: And YOU, yes, you! I see that neon poster that says CLIMAX CONTROL = MY THERAPY.
She pauses, letting it breathe.
Amanda: Baby, therapy is a trained professional. This is a series of poor decisions with lighting.
The audience loses it. Amanda smiles like she just got a five-star review. Then she notices a couple near the barricade, two men, dressed sharp, one with an SCW shirt tucked into jeans like he’s trying to be respectful, the other wearing a jacket like he came to fight and look good doing it. They’re holding hands, grinning like they know they’re about to become part of the show.
Amanda’s face lights up with mischievous delight.
Amanda: Oh my goodness, hold on. Hold. On.
She points gently, not singling them out like targets, more like she’s crowning them.
Amanda: You two are offensively handsome.
The couple laughs, waving.
Amanda: Like this is a wrestling show. We’re supposed to be sweaty and violent and emotionally unstable. And you both look like you walked out of a romantic comedy where the only villain is bad communication.
The crowd cheers loudly, approving.
Amanda: Sir, left one, look at me.
She waits a beat until he does.
Amanda: If he doesn’t propose by Blaze of Glory XV, I will.
The building erupts. The right one throws his head back laughing, the left one clutches his chest like he’s been swept.
Amanda: And don’t get excited, my love comes with conditions. I’m expensive and I scream at referees.
She blows them a kiss, and they wave like they’re getting the best kind of bullied. Amanda turns back toward the camera, smoothing her hair with mock seriousness.
Amanda: See? That’s what we’re doing tonight. Love. Joy. Violence. Emotional damage. A full-service experience.
She takes a breath, and her tone shifts just slightly, the same playful sparkle, but with a now we begin kind of energy. The crowd leans in, recognizing the rhythm.
Amanda: Alright, Fresno. You have been loud, you have been beautiful, you have been only mildly feral.
The fans laugh.
Amanda: And now it is time to begin the evening properly.
She lifts her mic with ceremony, like she’s about to bless the ring, the ramp, and every questionable decision SCW is about to make.
Amanda: With a song.
The music begins and the night's opening performance begins!
Amanda: Baby, welcome to the field study.
I am Doctor Diva, PhD in Petty, with a minor in Tequila.
Tonight we observe the nightlife ecosystem.
I walked in like National Geographic
In six-inch heels, looking scientific
Clipboard? No, it’s a clutch with glitter glue
I’m here to study and possibly steal your boo
The lighting’s low, the bass is rude
The air is 40% perfume, 60% attitude
And every corner has a creature in its natural habitat
So take a sip, zip it, and let me point at that
Gay bar anthropology, class is in session, babes
We’re categorizing the species in their sparkly little caves
If you see yourself, don’t panic, just wave with pride
Now everybody say science and slide to the side
Science! (science!)
Gay bar anthropology!
Science! (science!)
Now let’s meet the local wildlife, responsibly
First specimen: The Shirtless One
He arrives at ten, by eleven he’s done
With sleeves, with buttons, with basic shame
He’s oiled like a dolphin and he knows his name
He’s near the fan, because he’s always at risk
Of overheating from his own self-image
He flexes at mirrors, he flirts with air
He’s not asking questions, he’s offering a dare
And if you touch him? Oh, the sacred gasp
Like you scratched the paint on a luxury mask
He’s a rare bird, a peacock son
In the wild we call him Where’d your shirt go, hun?
Gay bar anthropology, class is in session, babes
We’re categorizing the species in their sparkly little caves
If you see yourself, don’t panic, just wave with pride
Now everybody say science and slide to the side
Science! (science!)
Gay bar anthropology!
Science! (science!)
You’re all peer-reviewed by me tonight
Next we spot: The One Who Only Nods
He doesn’t speak, he communicates with gods
He’s posted by the speakers, eyes half-closed
He’s not ignoring you, he’s just emotionally compost
You say Hi! and he goes mm.
You say How are you? and he goes mm.
You say Want a drink? and he goes mm.
He’s like a sexy little metronome, mm mm mm
He nods at the beat, he nods at your face
He nods like he’s solving a very serious case
If nodding was cardio? He’d be thin as a straw
But he’s built like a bouncer with a library jaw
And when the song changes? He’s still in the zone
Because The One Who Only Nods
Has never known
A thought
In his life
Alone
Gay bar anthropology, class is in session, babes
We’re categorizing the species in their sparkly little caves
If you see yourself, don’t panic, just wave with pride
Now everybody say science and slide to the side
Science! (science!)
Gay bar anthropology!
Science! (science!)
Some of y’all are nonverbal and that’s gorgeous
Now class, gather round.
We’re approaching a high-emotion area.
Do not make sudden movements.
Someone is crying but like, in a productive way.
Behold: The Bathroom Therapist
She’s in the mirror, doing public service
Her lashes are sharp, her wisdom is free
She’s the patron saint of Baby, come talk to me
She’s got gum, she’s got wipes, she’s got time
She’s turning I’m fine into a full-blown paradigm
You came in to pee, now you’re healing trauma
Suddenly you’re confessing about your ex named Drama
She holds your hand near the paper towel roll
She says You deserve better, now breathe, regain control
And then, plot twist, she asks for your Instagram
Because therapy is sacred, but networking is the plan
Gay bar anthropology, class is in session, babes
We’re categorizing the species in their sparkly little caves
If you see yourself, don’t panic, just wave with pride
Now everybody say science and slide to the side
Science! (science!)
Gay bar anthropology!
Science! (science!)
The bathroom is a chapel, the sink is the pew
Now entering: The Straight Girl Birthday Party
A migrating herd, loud and hearty
They arrive in sashes like WARNING SIGNS
And they travel in packs of nine
They scream WOO! like it’s a paid position
They request Beyoncé with missionary precision
They ask Is this where RuPaul lives?
And tip in motivational affirmatives
One says I love gays! like it’s a hobby
Then accidentally blocks the whole damn lobby
They’re sweet, they’re chaotic, they’re well-intentioned pests
Like golden retrievers in sequined vests
And you can always tell when it’s her birthday night
Because she’s wearing a crown… indoors… under strobe light
Her friends are filming every breath she takes
Like girl, relax, this is not The Oscars, it’s tequila mistakes
Gay bar anthropology, class is in session, babes
We’re categorizing the species in their sparkly little caves
If you see yourself, don’t panic, just wave with pride
Now everybody say science and slide to the side
Science! (science!)
Gay bar anthropology!
Science! (science!)
Straight girls, we love you, just hydrate and don’t climb things
And finally: The DJ’s Best Friend
The one who thinks the night depends
On their opinions, facial cues
And interpretive dance reviews
They’re stationed by the booth like a guard dog
Nodding at the DJ like a corporate boardroom
They mouth this one! not that! drop it! wait!
Like they’re negotiating international trade
They have access. They have privilege.
They have a lanyard spiritually.
They say I can get you a shoutout
Then forget your name mid-sentence without doubt
And when the beat hits, they do that little lean
Like yes, I too invented this machine
They’re the hype, the friend, the unpaid staff
And honestly? I respect the hustle and I laugh
Gay bar anthropology, class is in session, babes
We’re categorizing the species in their sparkly little caves
From the shirtless to the nodders to the therapists with grace
To the birthday herd and the booth-side I run this place
Science! (science!)
Gay bar anthropology!
Science! (science!)
We are all weird, and that’s the methodology
Now if you recognized yourself in this research congratulations.
You are part of a thriving ecosystem.
Tip your scientist.
And remember: in the wild, we don’t judge
We observe loudly in eyeliner.
Amanda’s opening performance hits its final beat, and the place comes unglued.
The Selland Arena surges with cheers and applause, stomping feet, screaming voices, hands clapping so hard it looks like the whole lower bowl is trying to start a small earthquake. Amanda stands center-stage, basking in it like she’s charging off pure adoration. She fans herself dramatically, then struts the length of the stage with a satisfied little swagger, blowing kisses to every section like she’s personally funding their happiness.
She points into the crowd, winks at the hard cam, and gives one last slow, regal wave, then turns with perfect theatrical timing and disappears behind the curtains, banished backstage in a swirl of glamour and mischief.
The broadcast transitions to ringside.
Belinda Simone and Erik Lunam sit behind the commentary desk, headsets on, mics ready, framed by the six-sided ring and a wall of fans that refuse to sit down.
Simone is dressed sharp and camera-ready, sleek blazer tailored to perfection over a low-cut top with a subtle shimmer that catches the arena lights when she moves. Her hair is styled immaculate, makeup crisp, and she’s wearing statement earrings that swing just enough to remind you she’s here to talk and also to be seen doing it.
Lunam looks like he stepped out of a fight poster and into a fashion shoot on the way, dark jacket with a rugged cut, crisp shirt beneath, and a look that says he’s equal parts analyst and instigator. He’s grinning already, eyes bright, like he can smell chaos in the air and it smells delicious.
Simone: Fresnooooo! Selland Arena is absolutely electric tonight, and welcome everyone to SCW Climax Control!
The crowd behind them pops again, waving signs and leaning into the shot like they’re trying to climb into the broadcast.
Lunam: Ah now, listen t’that! Fresno, California is after showin’ up in a BIG way, aren’t ye? Would ye ever hear the place? It’s deafening!
Simone: And it has to be, because we are officially on the Road to Blaze of Glory XV, every single night from here on out matters, and you can feel that pressure in the air.
Lunam: Pressure, is it? I’d call it hunger, Simone. Ye can see it in the fans, ye can hear it in the screams! Everybody knows what time it is. It’s time t’fight for position, time t’prove a point, time t’start breakin’ hearts and crackin’ egos.
Simone: That’s right. Championships, grudges, momentum, everything starts to tighten up as we get closer, and tonight is the kind of night that can change careers.
Lunam: And fair play t’Fresno for bringin’ the madness. Look at ‘em, signs everywhere, voices gone already, and we’ve barely begun!
Simone: We are so glad you’re with us, whether you’re here in this incredible crowd at Selland Arena, or watching at home, you picked the perfect night to tune in.
Lunam: Aye, settle in wherever ye are, because Climax Control is ready t’kick off proper an’ I’ve got a feelin’ we’re about t’see the Road to Blaze of Glory get a whole lot bumpier.
Simone: Bumpier and a whole lot louder.
The camera catches the fans behind them throwing their arms up again, the noise swelling as the show prepares to roll forward.
Lunam: Ah now, talk about startin’ the night with a bang because there’s been a void sittin’ heavy in the Lyons Den after the injury to Eddie Lyons, and ye could feel it hangin’ over the whole lot of them but tonight that silence gets filled, loud and proud, with the debut of the Den’s newest member, Zayvion Lyons! This lad’s got a point to prove and a family name to carry, and there’s no easing into SCW when yer first test is standin’ across from the bruisin’ locker room leader himself, veteran Bulldog Bill Barnhart! Barnhart’s the kind of man who doesn’t just beat ye, he tries to convince the rest of the roster it was a lesson, and if Zayvion wants to make a statement for the Den and for Eddie watchin’ from the sidelines, he’s gotta survive the bite before he can ever claim the bark!
Simone: And if that opening match is about making a first impression, this next one is about protecting your future because the stakes could not be clearer on the Road to Blaze of Glory XV! Ryan Keys already has his sights locked on Texas, where he’s set to challenge Logan Hunter for the Roulette Championship, but tonight he has to walk straight into a proving ground against a third-generation Superstar in Brayden Williams, a competitor who lives for moments exactly like this. And General Manager Evelyn Hall has made it official: if Brayden wins tonight, he doesn’t just steal momentum, he steals opportunity! He gets added to that Roulette Championship match in Texas! So for Ryan Keys, this isn’t just another stop on the road, it’s a potential detour that could turn his one-on-one title dream into a three-way fight for survival.
Lunam: Ah Jaysus, if ye want a look at pure, unfiltered chaos on the Road to Blaze of Glory XV, here it is! LJ Kasey’s already got that date circled with Brandon Hendrix, the man who tried to shelve him permanently, the kind of fella who doesn’t just injure ye, he tries t’erase ye! But before LJ can even think about gettin’ his hands on Hendrix in Texas, he’s gotta survive the warm-up from hell tonight. Because standin’ in his way is the Clown Prince of Chaos himself, Anthrax! And I’ll tell ye this, Simone: ye don’t get past Anthrax, ye endure him. He doesn’t wrestle a match, he drags ye into a storm and laughs while ye’re tryin’ to find the exits, and if LJ wants to prove he’s ready for Hendrix, he’s gotta show he can keep his head when the world’s spinnin’ and the madness is comin’ from every direction.
Simone: And the momentum keeps building, because we’ve got another huge step forward in the Bombshell Internet Qualifier matches tonight, two former champions colliding with everything on the line! Alexandra Calaway brings that hard-earned confidence and grit that only comes from holding gold, but across the ring is Seleana Zdunich, equally decorated, equally dangerous, and absolutely determined to prove that her next championship run starts right here. This is the kind of matchup where experience doesn’t just matter, it weaponizes every decision, every opening, every mistake because when two former champions clash, neither one is coming to look good, they’re coming to remind the entire division exactly who they are.
Lunam: Ah now, this one’s got sparks all over it, doesn’t it? Because the challenger to the World Heavyweight title at Blaze of Glory XV, Alexander Raven, is steppin’ into the ring tonight, and he’s not comin’ out here to entertain, he’s comin’ out here to make a statement the champion can’t ignore. But here’s the problem for Raven. He’s standin’ across from Celtic Thunder Ciarán Doyle, and that man doesn’t do tune-up matches, he does battles. Doyle’s got pride in his bones and lightning in his hands, and ye know he’d love nothin’ more than to derail Raven’s big Texas plans with one clean, undeniable win. So Raven might be lookin’ ahead to Blaze of Glory, but if he takes his eyes off the road for even a second tonight, Ciarán Doyle will put him straight into the ditch.
Simone: And then it’s time for tonight’s Main Event, and it is loaded with attitude, ego, and a whole lot of trouble, because the brand new, now two-time Roulette Champion Logan Hunter steps into non-title action with all the swagger that comes with holding that gold. But across from him is one of the very few men who can bend the rules just as easily as Logan does, and then have the audacity to lecture the champion for doing it anyway, SCW’s Angry Cop Liam Davis! This matchup is a collision of two men who know exactly where the lines are because they’ve both crossed them, and they’re both willing to weaponize every loophole in the book to get the result they want. But there’s an extra twist tonight: Anthrax is in the building, and that alone is enough to make Liam’s blood pressure spike. So the question isn’t just whether Davis can outsmart Logan Hunter, it’s whether he can keep his focus long enough to do it. All this and more on SCW Climax Control!
The show opens with a quick recap package, images of Crystal Zdunich being stretchered out, Seleana screaming for EMTs, and Mercedes Vargas shouting, “I MADE YOU! I MADE YOU!” The clip ends with the ominous words: “Fallout Begins Tonight.”
Simone: Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Climax Control 447, what a wild start! The fallout from Inception VIII continues tonight in Fresno!
Lunam: Ye can feel the emotion in this buildin’, Belinda! These fans are ready for answers after what Mercedes Vargas did to poor Crystal Zdunich.
The crowd erupts in “CRYS-TAL! CRYS-TAL!” chants as cameras pan across “Justice for Fire and Fury” signs.
Simone: You said it, Erik. The footage we just saw was hard to watch, but tonight, the fallout begins. Seleana Zdunich is here, and she’s promised to address Mercedes’s attack head-on.
Lunam: Aye, an’ she looks fired up from what we’re hearin’ backstage. Ye can’t blame her, though. That was her wife left lyin’ in the middle o’ that ring. I reckon we’re in for somethin’ fierce once Seleana steps through those curtains.
Simone: Let’s take it to the ring and hear from Seleana Zdunich right now.
Seleana Zdunich storms to the ring in street clothes and a torn Fire and Fury t-shirt. She snatches a mic, pacing like a storm on two legs as the crowd roars.
Seleana: Three weeks ago, I watched my wife, my partner, being carried out of that ring. And the reason why? The woman sitting at home right now, smirking like she did something honorable. Mercedes Vargas, you didn’t prove you’re a champion. You proved you’re a coward!
Huge cheers. “SE-LE-ANA!” chants fill the arena.
Seleana: You hit a woman who trusted you! You broke a bond built on sweat and respect. You think this is over because you walked away with a few boos? No, ja, this is only just the beginning!
The crowd chants again, louder.
Seleana: I don’t care what the doctors say. I don’t care what management says. Mercedes, I am daring you to walk through that curtain right now so we can finish what you started!
The arena explodes as Mercedes Vargas’ music hits. The Hall of Famer walks out smirking in a sleek black jacket, and the World Bombshell Championship title slung casually over her shoulder, microphone in hand. The boos are deafening.
Mercedes: Oh, Seleana, you really think this is about you? You’re not vengeance. You’re a footnote. I ended her because she chose weakness, she chose you. And I don’t regret it for one second. Fire and Fury? That team was built to dominate. But instead of legacy, she chose love. She traded power for pity, and I refuse to drown beside her.
Seleana shouts from the ring, but Mercedes doesn’t flinch.
Mercedes: You can scream for revenge all you want, but remember this. When I put her down, I didn’t just end Crystal Zdunich. I ended the last piece of the old Bombshell era. From now on, it’s my world.
She lowers the mic, letting the crowd’s boos rain down before looking straight into the camera again.
Mercedes: And since we’re talking about power, let’s talk about our boss, Evelyn Hall. Ten thousand dollars a day, huh?
She tilts her head, running her hand over the gold plate of the title belt as if to make sure the camera gets a good look.
Mercedes: That’s adorable. Very “executive authority,” very by-the-book. But let’s be real here, it’s not her book I’m reading from. I’ve written my own. And in my book, this title doesn’t belong behind some desk, or with a paper champion recovering at home. This title right here…
She lifts the belt higher for emphasis.
Mercedes: …belongs to the best wrestler in this division. The woman who’s done more for this company than anyone you’ve ever signed. That woman is me.
A pause, measured, deliberate. Her tone sharpens.
Mercedes: You can call it “theft,” Evelyn. I call it correction, because possession is nine-tenths of the law, right? For months, Crystal Zdunich has been handed opportunity after opportunity, dancing her way through main events while the real measuring stick of this business is told to “wait her turn.” Well, I got tired of waiting. And the truth? That attack at Inception? That was me taking back what’s mine. Not a belt. Respect.
She stands now, slinging the title over her shoulder, stepping closer to the camera.
Mercedes: You can ban me, fine me, suspend me.., do whatever makes your conscience feel powerful. You want me to walk into your office and hand this back like a good little employee? Not happening. You want to fine me ten grand a day? Make it twenty. Go ahead. I’ll still sleep just fine tonight. Because even with every dollar you try to bleed out of me, it won’t change the fact that I hold your company’s prize, and the world knows it’s sitting on the shoulder of the woman who deserves it.
Her smirk returns, cold, unbothered, dangerous.
Mercedes: So here’s my counteroffer, Evelyn. You want your belt back? You come get it, yourself. Or let Kayla Richards try; she’s been dying to call herself champion again, right? Or better yet, send the so-called champion to do it when she’s cleared…if she ever is.
Seleana slams her hand on the ropes, fury building as Mercedes leans on every word.
Mercedes: Until then, the World Bombshell Championship stays exactly where it belongs, with me.
She taps the faceplate twice and drops the mic. Seleana lunges toward the ropes, but security rushes in to restrain her. Mercedes smirks and walks backward up the ramp, holding the title high as Seleana screams “COME BACK HERE!” while the crowd chants “LET THEM FIGHT!”
Camera fades out on Seleana yelling through tears, shouting after her fallen friend’s betrayer, raw emotion closing the scene.
Simone: The rage in Seleana Zdunich’s eyes says it all. This is far from over!
Lunam: Ah, no doubt about it, Belinda. We’ll keep ye posted as the night goes on, but right now, Mercedes Vargas has walked outta the arena with tha’ championship still in her own hands.
Simone: We’re going to catch our breath and see if we can get Mercedes’s side of the story. Stay with us! Climax Control continues after this!
Backstage, Pussy Willow is standing with the newest SCW acquisition Zayvion Lyons and his manager Cleo Phillips.
Pussy Willow: ladies and gentlemen with me tonight is the newest scw Superstar sent to us from the Lion's Den will be making his debut against Bill Barnhart in a few minutes, Zayvion Lyons.
Zayvion Lyons: First off I want to say that when I started my training at the Lyons Den the first person to introduce themselves to me and shake my hand, was Eddie Lyons. What happened to him last week at the hands of our cousin Vincent, was absolutely disgusting, Where I come from you don't do family like that. I send Eddie my best wishes, get well soon cousin.
Pussy Willow: Well I think that goes for all of us here at SCW in wishing Eddie the best, but what can you tell us about Zayvion?
Zayvion Lyons: man I'm just some kid from The Block who's been given an opportunity now I want to find out what I'm about God watch what I do to Bill Barnhart here in a few minutes.
Pussy Willow: how do you feel about what some are saying, that the Lyon's Den sent you as a replacement for Eddie Lyons.
Zayvion laughs to himself.
Zayvion Lyons: Look, what happened to Eddie was unfortunate, and yeah this ain't the way I desired to start my career. But if opportunity knocks you got to take it no matter what. Maybe what happened to Eddie opened the door for me but I will not be seen as a replace….
Before he can finish, Victoria Lyons appears, interrupting the scene, observing Zayvion up and down.
Victoria Lyons: Not a replacement? I think that remains to be seen. You know the only reason coach sent you here is to make good on the contracts that the Lyon's Den lost with SCW last week. I don't even think you understand what shoes you have to fill. You don't want to be seen as Eddie's replacement then go out there and prove you're more than just one of our bastard leeching cousins.
Cleo steps in and speaks up.
Cleo Phillips: I'mma stop you right there Victoria. This ain't about you or your family. This is about my boy Zay. Now the fact that you stood up for Eddie is the only reason I'm not smacking you in the mouth right now, but believe me I know what type of person you are, you're a snake and I'm not going to let you sink your fangs into my boy here.
Victoria Lyons: I see. So you're here to babysit him then?
Zayvion Lyons: Hey, ain't nobody here to babysit me!
Victoria Lyons: Then prove it. Like it or not you still carry our last name, and whether you care about the legacy or not, I do and I expect you to live up to it.
Zayvion Lyons: Look I do care about legacy but not the Lyons Legacy, why should I care about the last name that never gave me anything? The only legacy I'm worried about is Zayvion's, and he isn't looking to try to meet your standards. So if you'll kindly excuse us I have a debut to win.
He pushes past Victoria and Cleo follows, but she feint checks with a quick shoulder movement at Victoria, to which Victoria flinches slightly and Cleo smirks.
Backstage, Bill and Bea Barnhart walk down the hallway toward the staging area for Bill’s match against Zayvion Lyons. Iris the English Bulldog trots alongside them, alert and scanning the corridor.
Bea: What are you thinking about leading up to your match against Zayvion Lyons?
Bill: Quickly defeating him as I have done to other members of the family of Lyons.
Bea: Rest assured that I will not only be watching your match, I will also be on the watch to ensure nobody from the Lyons family interferes in your match. Iris will also be on the lookout for people coming to the ring to cause trouble.
Bill: Thanks. Well we are at the staging area so we wait here until we are informed to make our official entrance for my match.
Bea: Me and Iris have your back Bill.
Bill, Bea, and Iris wait for the call for Bill to make his official entrance for his match, and it should not be long for that call for his entrance.
Justin: This match is scheduled for one fall… introducing first… hailing from Lawrenceville, Georgia… 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 his English Bulldog Iris leading her 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 two make their way to the ring where Bill hands the chalice to a ring attendant to hold onto until the match is over. Bill enters enters the ring then walks around the ring playing the crowd before settling into a corner.
Justin: and his opponent… making his debut in Sin City Wrestling… hailing from Inglewood, California…Zayvion Lyons…
“Backyard Boogie” by Mack 10 hits and Zayvion Lyons explodes through the curtain already dancing—shoulders rolling, feet bouncing, moving like he’s stepped straight out of a backyard party. He grins wide, throwing a quick two-step before pointing out to the crowd as if inviting them to move with him.
Cleo Phillips follows a few steps behind, composed and stone-faced, letting Zayvion steal every ounce of attention while she watches the surroundings like a strategist.
Zayvion dances his way down the ramp instead of walking—mixing in a smooth shuffle, a quick spin, and a playful bounce as he slaps hands on both sides. Halfway down, he stops, hits a bigger move to the beat—arms swinging, feet tapping—then laughs and nods as the crowd reacts.
At ringside, he slides under the bottom rope, pops up immediately, and keeps the rhythm going with a short freestyle in the center of the ring. He climbs the turnbuckle, dancing in place for a second before throwing his arms up, hyping the crowd.
Cleo steps into the ring calmly and takes her spot in the corner, arms crossed, laser-focused, as Zayvion hops down, still moving to the music—loose, confident, and ready to go.
The ref moves in and checks for weapons before indicating for the bell to be rung…
DING DING DING!
Barnhart and Lyons exchange a few words, as they move out of their respective corners and move around the ring, before moving in and locking up in the centre of the ring, where they briefly jockey for position before Barnhart grabs Lyons and drags him with a headlock, but it’s only brief as Lyons grabs Barnhart around his body and pushes him towards the ropes, where he bounces him off the ropes and pushes him away, who then bounces off the ropes opposite as Barnhart leaps over Lyons who drops to the mat and Barnhart bounces off the ropes as Lyons makes his way to his feet and waits for Barnhart to return and goes for a standing dropkick, but Barnhart sees it coming and quickly dodges and Lyons hits nothing but air and plants the mat.
Simone: Barnhart and Lyons lock up after a short war of words, as they jockey for position, but Barnhart quickly overpowers Lyons and locks in a headlock, but Lyons fights back and pushes Barnhart up against the ropes before pushing him away. As things momentarily speed up in Lyons favour but quickly stalls as Lyons goes for a standing dropkick but ends up face planting the mat.
Lunam: That will knock the wind out of you.
Barnhart shakes his head and wags his finger, as Lyons makes his way to his feet and holds his torso, as Barnhart gives him a few words as Lyons takes a moment before he and Barnhart circle the ring before slowly moving back in, as Barnhart looks to grab Lyons, but doesn’t as they then move in and lock up, but Barnhart breaks first and grabs Lyons arms, but Lyons grabs Barnhart from behind, as he tries to break free from Barnhart’s grip. He isn’t able to do so, as Barnhart keeps a grip on Lyons wrist and begins to work it over.
Lunam: Barnhart is left unimpressed by Lyons, as Lyons makes his way back to his feet, as Barnhart stalks him for a moment, but backs away as he and Lyons lock up once more, as Barnhart breaks and grabs Lyons arm and then locks in a wrist lock.
Barnhart yanks on Lyons wrist a couple of times, which Lyons drops to a knee as he grimaces in pain before Barnhart pulls Lyons up to his feet and pushes him into a corner, where he then Irish whips him across the ring and into the corner opposite, where Barnhart then rushes in but Lyons dodges and climbs out of the ring and onto the apron, as Barnhart stops himself colliding with the turnbuckle. Barnhart turns and moves after Lyons and goes for a wild swing, which Lyons ducks and dives through the middle ropes and back into the ring. Lyons makes his way to his feet, as Barnhart turns and glares at Lyons.
Simone: Barnhart yanks on his wrist a couple of times forcing Lyons to a knee before pulling him up and then pushes him into the corner before Irish whipping him. Barnhart goes to move in but Lyons dodges and climbs out of the ring.
Lunam: Lyons showing why he is more agile than good ole Bill.
He then moves after Lyons, which makes Lyons nervous but Barnhart then backs off and Lyons moves away from the ropes, as they move in once more and lock up, but once again Barnhart’s veteran knowledge and height advantage works for him as he break and grabs Lyons into a headlock again, which Lyons hunts for a way out and he quickly does as he slips out of the headlock and grabs Barnhart’s arm and locks in a hammerlock before moving into a headlock of his own. Barnhart drops to a knee, as Lyons grants on his head, as Barnhart then moves back to his feet and pushes Lyons towards the ropes and up against him before pushing him away, which Lyons leaps onto the ropes and looks for a high risk move but Barnhart dodges and Lyons lands on his back.
Simone: Don’t let him hear you say that, as they lock up once more, as again Barnhart gets the upper hand and puts Lyons into another headlock, but Lyons quick slips free and goes for a hammerlock and into a headlock of his own.
Lunam: Lyons is certainly not giving up too easily and is hanging with Bill, though saying that, Lyons looks to high risk and fails.
Barnhart quickly moves in and drops an elbow drop across Lyon’s sternum and then goes for a pin…
ONE!
TWO!
TH- kickout!
Simone: Barnhart goes for the advantage and goes for a pin, but Lyons kicks out.
Lyons kicks out, as he holds his chest, as Barnhart turns and grabs Lyons by the hair and pulls him up, where he first in some punches before stopping and he adjusts his position and rolls Lyons onto his front before locking in a calf crusher. Lyons cries out in pain, as Barnhart pulls on Lyons leg, as Lyons shakes his head as the ref as the question. Lyons grabs at the mat, as he drags himself towards the ropes, but Barnhart releases and climbs back to his feet and drags Lyons back to the centre of the ring and keep hold of his leg before delivering some kicks to the back of Lyons thigh before forcing Lyons to roll onto his front, where he grabs his hair and drags him up before grabbing him around the waist and hits a German suplex.
Lunam: Barnhart grabs Lyons by the hair and pulls him up and first in some punches to rock Lyons before locking in a calf crusher. Lyons fights through the pain and tries to get free but Barnhart drags him back to the centre of the ring and boots his thigh before hitting a german suplex.
Barnhart makes his way back to his feet, where he grabs Lyons once more and drags him up and then hits a running bulldog and plants Lyons face before going for another cover…
ONE!
TWO!
TH…kickout!
Simone: Lyons kicks out again following the German suplex and running bulldog. Lyons debut looks like it’s going to fail.
Lyons kicks out again, as Barnhart shakes his head as he and the ref exchange a few words, as Lyons rolls away from Barnhart. Barnhart makes his way to his feet as he moves to Lyons and grabs him and pulls him up and pushes him into a corner. Barnhart takes a few steps backwards and rushes in but Lyons dodges and Barnhart goes chest first into the turnbuckle. Barnhart stumbles backwards holding his chest, as Lyons screams out and rushes forward and grabs Barnhart and hits a jumping neckbreaker.
Lunam: Lyons is struggling, as Barnhart sends Lyons into the corner, however, Barnhart’s follow up move is dodged and Lyons pushes through the pain and hits a jumping neckbreaker.
Barnhart holds his neck, as Lyons slowly makes his way to his feet before doing a little stretch before approaching Barnhart, where he leaps up and delivers a mushroom stomp onto Barnhart’s stomach. Barnhart expels a load of air, as Lyons turns and grabs Barnhart and sits him up into seated position and hits a snapmare and follows up with a kick and then goes for a cover…
Simone: Lyons has battled back and Barnhart is now in trouble here.
ONE!
TWO!
TH…kickout!
Barnhart kicks out, as Lyons lets out a heavy breath, as he makes his way to his feet, where he turns and leaps onto the ropes and hits a springboard legdrop across Barnhart throat, but he isn’t done and he climbs to his feet and takes Barnhart with him, where he pushes him into a corner, where he follows up with corner elbows. He climbs from the ring and then hits the South Central Slide (Slingshot flatliner), Lyons gets back to his feet and turns and rushes the ropes to the top, where he then hits the The Block Party - 720 Top Rope Splash.
Lunam: Barnhart kicks out… but this doesn’t dishearten Lyons and Lyons continues to work over Barnhart before finishing him with the block party.
He then goes for a cover…
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Simone: He has done it.
DING DING DING!
Justin: Winner of this match via pinfall…. Zayvion Lyons.
Lunam: What a big win. He is going to have a big future here.
Lyons music hits over the p.a, as he slowly climbs off Barnhart and makes his way to his feet, as the ref raises his arm in victory.
The scene opens backstage in front of the Climax Control logo backdrop. Reporter Ms. Rocky Mountains stands center frame, microphone in hand, flanked by Hall of Famer Mercedes Vargas, looking composed but clearly driven. She’s dressed in street clothes. The faint buzz of the arena crowd hums behind them as the camera zooms in.
Ms. Rocky Mountains: Mercedes, can you explain your actions from Inception? You attacked your partner, Crystal Zdunich, brutally after the match. Why?
Mercedes folds her arms and lets out a cold, low laugh as her eyes narrow on the reporter.
Mercedes: Explain? I don’t owe an explanation to anyone in this company.
She steps in closer, lowering her tone but sharpening every word.
Mercedes: For weeks, I carried Fire and Fury. I carried her, Crystal Zdunich, on my back while she smiled for the cameras, played the hero, and clung to her little reality show spotlight. While she chased family drama, I was out there keeping the gold around her waist.
Ms. Rocky Mountains: But Crystal was your friend, your partner.
Mercedes: Friend? Rocky, a friend doesn’t forget who made her relevant. Let’s get that straight. The world calls her “champion,” but that title was built on my sweat. And when she chose her wife over her teammate? That made it personal. She embarrassed me… and at Inception, I reminded her what betrayal feels like.
Ms. Rocky Mountains: Do you regret your actions?
Mercedes: Not. One. Bit. If she ever has the nerve to stand again, I’ll happily drop her one more time, this time permanently.
Mercedes stares directly into the camera, unblinking. After a long, tense pause, she turns and walks out of frame. Rocky lowers the mic, visibly uneasy, as the shot fades to black.
The camera cuts away from the arena noise to the controlled chaos of backstage. Crew members weave through cables and cases. A runner calls out times. Somewhere down the hall, the crowd swells like a wave hitting concrete.
Ryan Keys leans against a production crate, wrists taped, gear on, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet like standing still is a personal insult. He lazily spins a half-empty water bottle in his hand while watching a monitor.
Ms. Rocky Mountains steps into frame, arms crossed, eyebrow already raised.
Ms. Rocky Mountains: You look way too relaxed for someone about to get punched in the face.
Ryan glances over, grin immediate.
Ryan Keys: First of all, rude. Second, I don’t get punched in the face.
Rocky’s expression doesn’t move an inch.
Ms. Rocky Mountains: Ryan.
He pauses. Reconsiders. Tries again.
Ryan Keys: …Okay, I get punched in the face sometimes. But it’s part of the brand.
Rocky shakes her head, but there’s a smirk fighting its way through.
Ms. Rocky Mountains: You’ve been talking all week about stepping things up. Less playing around, more pressure. More fight. You still in that mindset, or are you gonna go out there and vibe again?
Ryan exhales and looks toward the hallway leading to gorilla. The muffled crowd noise rolls through the walls like distant thunder. When he turns back, he’s still Ryan, still bright, but there’s more weight behind his words now.
Ryan Keys: Nah. Tonight’s different.
He rolls his shoulders, loosening up.
Ryan Keys: I’m still gonna have fun. I’m not turning into some silent movie villain.
A small shrug.
Ryan Keys: But I’m tired of walking back here knowing I could’ve pushed harder. Could’ve stayed on somebody instead of giving them room.
Rocky watches him carefully, like she’s checking for the usual Ryan shortcut.
Ms. Rocky Mountains: So what’s the plan?
Ryan smiles, but it’s not just a smile for the camera.
Ryan Keys: Make it real simple.
He taps his taped wrist like it’s a checklist.
Ryan Keys: Keep moving forward. Don’t let him breathe. Don’t let him think.
He nods toward the monitor, then back toward gorilla.
Ryan Keys: Last time I gave him space, he took the match.
A quick, sharp little grin.
Ryan Keys: Tonight? No space.
Rocky’s smirk turns into a nod, satisfied.
Ms. Rocky Mountains: Good. Because open season means everybody’s hunting momentum. You lose focus for two seconds, somebody jumps ahead of you.
Ryan’s eyebrows lift like she just issued a challenge.
Ryan Keys: Then I guess I better run faster.
A stagehand rushes past, breathless.
Stagehand: Keys! Two minutes!
The arena reaction swells again, closer now. Rocky steps in and gives Ryan one firm pat on the shoulder, not gentle, not soft. A reminder.
Ms. Rocky Mountains: Go remind them why the crowd likes you in the first place.
Ryan spins the water bottle one last time and flicks it toward a nearby trash can without looking. It drops clean. No rim. No bounce. Like he rehearsed it. He points at Rocky like she just witnessed a magic trick.
Ryan Keys: Because I’m charming?
Rocky rolls her eyes so hard it should count as cardio.
Ms. Rocky Mountains: Because you hit hard, idiot.
Ryan laughs, already backing toward gorilla, hands up like he’s innocent of every accusation ever made.
Ryan Keys: Both can be true!
He turns and heads for the curtain as his music begins to rumble through the building. Rocky watches him go, shaking her head with reluctant amusement. The camera holds on her for a beat as she mutters under her breath, half to herself, half to the universe.
Ms. Rocky Mountains: Don’t die out there.
Ryan’s voice floats back from off-camera, bright and easy.
Ryan Keys: No promises!
Fade out.
Simone: Welcome back to Climax Control and our second match of the evening! Last week Ryan Keys was confirmed to be Logan Hunter’s first challenger for the SCW Roulette Championship at Blaze of Glory but tonight he has to prove himself as he takes on the second generation star Brayden Willians in singles action!
Lunam: We are not being joined by either Brooke or Logan on commentary, thank god, but you know they, alongside Marissa, will be watching this match closely!
Simone: And with Logan wrestling Liam Davis in tonight’s Main Event you can bet that the shoe will be on the other food later on tonight! Let’s take it to Justin!
Justin: The following contest is scheduled for one fall!
“Forever by Drake” begins to blast across the speakers and as it does Brayden Hilton along with his girlfriend Carleigh Annis emerge from behind the curtains. Brayden smiles as the crowd welcomes the duo with an ovation of loud boos. He flips them off as he quickly sprints towards the ring. He doesn’t hesitate to slide right inside the ring where he kips up to his feet. He holds his arm proudly in the air before he does a backflip. The crowd just continues booing and that is when Carleigh begins to mouth off to them. She flips them off before she turns her attention to her husband inside of the ring and claps for him. He bounces around a bit before he lays down across the ropes showcasing that he is bored.
Justin: Introducing first, from Detroit, Michigan, weighing 190ibs “The Future” Brayden Williams!
Simone: Brayden may be the son of Todd Willims but many have accused him of failing to live up to his dad’s legacy!
Lunam: We’ll see if that holds true tonight!
Justin: And his opponent!
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: From Las Vegas, Nevada, weighing 225ibs “The Life of the Party” RYAN KEYS!
Simone: As I said before, Ryan has a future Roulette Title Shot guaranteed but an impressing performance in this match could raise his stock!
Lunam: But as you also said, Logan and the Shields Sisters will be waiting in the wings and those girls are as beautiful as Brooke’s mouth is loud! Don’t tell her I said that!
Simone: You know she probably heard you over the broadcast, right?
Lunam: Crap!
Jasmine goes over the rules with both men before she calls for the bell.
Simone: And the match is underway!
Lunam: This will be good!
DING DING DING!
Once the bell rings Brayden goes for a cheap shot early by charging in for a clothesline but Ryan ducks under it and waits for Brayden to turn around before hitting him with a pair of armdrags and a dropkick and posing for the crowd, Brayden gets back to his feet and delivers a clobbering blow to Ryan’s back before going for a Suplex only for Ryan to reverse it into a Snap Suplex of his own! Ryan floats over for the first pin of the match.
ONE!
TWO!
And Brayden kicks out! Carliegh is beside herself at ringside, shouting encouragement to Brayden but Ryan and Jasmine pay no attention to her!
Simone: So far it’s been all Ryan Keys!
Lunam: But with Carleigh in Brayden’s corner? You know that’ll change sooner or later!
Brayden retreats to the outside before Ryan can press the advantage and Jasmine goes to check on him while Ryan starts hyping up the crowd for a dive before hitting the ropes……………..and getting tripped by Carliegh! The crowd rains down boos on Brayden’s manager who acts all innocent when Jasmine turns around and Brayden is suddenly all to eager to return to the ring and starts laying into Ryan with elbow drops!
Simone: We all saw that coming I’m afraid and Ryan paid the price!
Lunam: And Brayden and Carliegh are being as subtle about it as the average Brooke Shields promo!
Brayden then heads to the top rope and starts waiting for Ryan to get to his feet, when Ryan does Brayden leaps off the top rope and hits a beautiful High Cross Bodu before going for his first pin of the night.
ONE!
Simone: Say what you will about Brayden and his tactics but the man was a Division 1 Baseball Player in high school and an All American from Michigan State University, he does not have to cheat!
TWO!
Lunam: Unfortunately for Ryan? He wants to cheat and Carleigh is all to happy to help!
And Ryan kicks out!
Simone: Regardless? Ryan is still in the game!
Brayden looks up at Jasmine, refusing to believe that that wasn’t three as Ryan crawls over to the ring ropes to pull himself up, however Carleigh is up to her old tricks and winds up for a slap that’ll probably knock Ryan’s cheekbones into next week………….only to act like she’s checking her nails when Jasmine happens to turn around at the ring time, giving Ryan enough time to get back on his feet in the process.
Simone: I swear I’ve seen more subtle acting in the average Soap Opera!
Lunam: That’s insulting to Soap Opera actors the world over and you know it!
Brayden however still uses the moment to hit Ryan with a German Suplex which he bridges for the pin!
ONE!
TWO!
And Ryan BARELY kicks out! Carleigh and Brayden start arguing that that was three with Jasmine but try to SCW Referee form? She’s having none of it!
Simone: Brayden almost pulled off a surprise win over Ryan and can you imagine what that would’ve meant for Ryan’s title match at Blaze of Glory? Brayden could’ve been added to it!
Lunam: Don’t manifest that energy into reality Belinda, I don’t want to imagine Brooke and Carleigh sharing ringside space!
This. off course, buys Ryan time to get back to his feet and he dropkicks Brayden from behind! Brayden barely manages to avoid colliding into Carleigh (who looks like she’s seen a ghost for her troubles) but Ryan takes advantage by grabbing Brayden around the waist from behind, running him into the ropes (Carleigh was able to get off the ring apron in time) and roll him through for a pin!
ONE!
TWO!
And Brayden kicks out!
Simone: That almost ended painfully for Carleigh!
Lunam: And almost ended the match in Ryan’s favour and Brayden’s expense!
Both men get to their feet but Brayden strikes first, scoring with a Superkick! Brayden senses an opportunity to end the match and calls for his finisher while Carleigh cheers him on from ringside.
Simone: Brayden’s calling for The Spartan Will!
Lunam: Can he hit it?
Brayden goes for the Red Arrow off the ropes but Ryan gets the knees up, causing him to crash and burn, Ryan gets to his feet and Ryan hits Brayden with the Ripcord Knee Strike!
Simone: And Ryan has just Shut it Down!
Lunam: I don’t think any amount of interference from Carleigh will get Brayden out of this one! Stick a fork in him, he’s done!
Ryan goes for the pin and Carleigh doesn’t even try to interfere as it’s clear that she knows her night’s over.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!!!!!
DING! DING! DING!
Justin: Here is your winner, RYAN KEYS!
Simone: Ryan gets a big win and with Logan Hunter waiting on the horizon………………
Brooke: AHEM!
Lunam: Oh god!
Ryan’s theme music doesn’t even get to play for a second before Brooke, clad in a black mini dress, steps out onto the entrance ramp with Logan and Marissa behind her, Logan holds the Roulette Title up high as he stares into the ring.
Brooke: I’m sorry but was that a match? I must’ve fallen asleep halfway through that boring slogfest! And if your struggling to beat someone like Brayden Ryan? How do you think you’ll fare against a real man!
Brooke kisses Logan for emphasis before handing him the mic.
Logan: RYAN! Watch tonight’s Main Event closely because I will show you how it’s done! Woe to the Vanquishes, for the lives of pathetic challengers will not be mourned! And at Blaze of Glory Ryan? YOU! WILL! KNEEL!
“Hope Castrated” hits the speakers as Logan drops the mic and stares Ryan down, Ryan returns the glare while Jasmine and Carleigh check on Brayden.
The screen fades in. There is no music but just the sound of breathing.
The screen lights up with quick cuts of LJ’s hands being taped, his wrist wrap pulled tight. We see fingers flexing, and then boots hitting the concrete floor of the gym.
There is a sharp exhale and LJ stands alone under harsh fluorescent lights.
LJ: (voice low, controlled) Everybody wants to talk about chaos.
Cut to slow footage of Anthrax laughing, erratic movement, hands raised, that grin.
LJ: (V.O.) They say he’s unpredictable. That he’s dangerous because you never know what he’s gonna do next.
Cut back to LJ tightening the tape, jaw set.
LJ: I know exactly what he’s gonna do. He’s gonna try to distract me. He’s gonna try to make this a circus. He’s gonna try to turn my return into a joke.
We get another round of quick flashes, Hendrix attacking LJ at Inception, the trainers surrounding him and LJ being helped up.
The footage cuts hard and we are back to the gym. LJ looks straight into the camera now.
LJ: Here’s the problem. I’ve already lived through chaos. I’ve already been jumped. Already been hurt. Already been laughed at. And I’m still standing.
The first low note of music creeps in, slow, heavy, deliberate.
LJ: This isn’t a comeback story. This isn’t a fairy tale. And I’m not afraid of clowns.
Cut to LJ pulling his hoodie over his head.
LJ: (V.O.) You don’t beat me with noise. You don’t break me with chaos.
The music swells slightly.
LJ: You beat me by surviving me.
There is a pause as he stops, turns back to the camera one last time.
LJ: And you won’t.
The screen cuts to black.
Text appears:
LJ KASEY vs ANTHRAX
SINGLES MATCH
ONE MAN RETURNS.
ONE MAN FINDS OUT.
The scene opens backstage at Climax Control where we see “The Rebel Princess” Cassie Wolfe standing by for an interview with Ms. Rocky Mountains alongside her manager Joshua Acquin.
Ms. Rocky Mountains: Cassie, last week we learned that you will challenge Alicia Lukas for the Bombshell Roulette Title at Blaze of Glory, thoughts?
Cassie: Funny, isn’t it?
Ms. Rocky Mountains: What do you mean?
Cassie: Remember the Disco Inferno Dance of Death Match that led to Alicia taking the title from Harper at Violent Conduct? I was one of the other bombshells in that match, I wasn’t pinned by Alicia but my point still stands.
Ms. Rocky Mountains: Didn’t you blow out your bad knee in that match?
Cassie: Technically it’s the whole leg that’s bad but yeah, basically! But that was back in September, if I had any lingering effects from that people would’ve noticed by now!
Ms. Rocky Mountains: I guess that’s true!
Joshua: While we don’t know for certain if Cassie will be in action between now and Blaze of Glory? I can assure you that she will walk out of Blaze of Glory with her first title in SCW!
Cassie: Not to mention my first title since my rookie year!
Ms. Rocky Mountains: Well good luck, because you’ll need it!
Cassie: Ain’t that the truth.
Cassie and Joshua walk off as the scene fades.
The screech and cry of raven birds fill the arena. The high pitch whines and scratch of static as the lights go down. The screen turns on, to open to a scene backstage. Alexander Raven is sitting side on to the camera, with his back pressed up against a wall in the backstage area. His gaze fixed upon his hands. Conspicuous by her absence, Luna is nowhere to be seen.
Alexander Raven: I’d like to say I’m surprised by the little tantrum our World Champion threw at the news of last week. I’d like to say I’m surprised that he continues to show his true colours, but honestly. I don’t think anyone can be surprised.
Raven reaches up to his head, brushing his hair back a little with one hand, before bringing it to pinch the bridge of his nose. He shakes his head a little, closing his eyes in frustration. Visible veins popping on his forehead as he grimaces a little.
Alexander Raven: For a man who bitches and moans about me doing what I need to do, he sure is loud about it. For a man who complains about me making demands, he sure is fucking loud about it. For a man who is tainting and torturing the minds of those around us? He sure is loud about his disagreement with management’s decision. It’s funny to me, how loud all the people are, that are squawking that I am the loud one. That I am the one who shouts and screams and throws my toys from the crib.
Shaking his head once more, he pushes up against the wall and slides upwards pushing his feet up and under him to stand up. He slowly turns to face the camera, eyes open, hands twitching at his sides. Irritation is the lightest way to describe the emotion etched onto his features. He raises one of his hands and taps it to the side of his head on the temple.
Alexander Raven: Ciarán complains about being made to show up week to week, in a match with the fucking workhorse of Sin City Wrestling? Questionable. Carter complains about me being given one more opportunity yet fails to see why that is. Let me put it simply for you. There is not a single other person in this company, in this fucking business right now, that deserves the spot. Not Eddie Lyons, not your husband, not LJ or Logan or Ciarán or Brandon or any of them. Not a single fucking one of them. The only person that is even remotely seen as worthy, as much as you hate it, Carter. The only one that they see any potential in right now… is Alexander Raven.
Alex slowly steps towards the camera, filling up more of the frame. The veins in his forehead still popping in anger, his eyes aflame with the agitation. He steps forward again, his head now taking up most of the shot.
Alexander Raven: If you’ve got a problem, Carter. Do something about it. Do something you whiny little bitch. I’ll even give you the golden fucking ticket that you want. I will stand here alone tonight, and come time for our rematch? I’ll stand alone again. No distractions, no qualms. An agreement reached between me and Luna. At the end, there’ll be no excuses. There will be no outs. There will be no reprieve for you, for me, for anyone. You want to cry about it? Cry about it, you worthless little shit.
Alexander spits onto the lens of the camera and storms out of the camera shot. The screen in the arena goes out as the air is filled with the sound of bird cries once more, followed by the screech and whine of static. Then just as quick as it all began, it ends as the lights come back up in the arena.
Lunam: This match between LJ Kasey and Anthrax should be interesting to say the least. Although Anthrax can be extremely aggressive they also manage to under-think their opponent.
Simone: I suggest that you do not make too much about LJ Kasey as Anthrax has been known to be extremely quirky and vicious.
Justin: Ladies and Gentlemen welcome to the third match of this edition of Climax Control. First to make their way to the ring, they are originally from Middleton, United Kingdom, now residing in Las Vegas, Nevada, he comes into this match at six feet four inches and two hundred ten pounds, please give a great Fresno, California, welcome for L.J. 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, featuring BABYMETAL, and a single spotlight pierces the shadows entrance area and the landing that illuminates the landing as the smoke billows out like an ominous tide. At that point L.J. Kasey emerges from the backstage area with 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. L.J. pauses at the top of the ramp, slowly pulling back his hood to reveal a smirk that borders on defiance. When the tempo of the song shifts, Kasey matches that energy, striding down the ramp with unshakable confidence. L.J. slaps hands with a few of the fans but he remains totally focused on the ring. Kasey reaches the base of the ramp and unbuckles his jacket with one fluid motion. He then tosses it to the side, revealing his gear consisting of 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. L.J. then grabs the top rope and in one smooth motion he slingshots himself into the ring. Landing in a crouch, Kasey slowly rises to his feet, spreading his arms wide to soak in the electric energy of the crowd.
Lunam: Sure is difficult not to like L.J. Kasey.
Simone: YAWN Wake me up with the boring part of this entrance sequence is over.
Justin: Next to make their way to the ring, they are from The Asylum, they come into this match at six feet and two hundred seven pounds, please give a great Fresno, California, welcome for ANTHRAX!!!
When their name is mentioned Anthrax comes out of the backstage area and walks out onto the landing at the top of the ramp. The face of Anthrax is hidden by dried and tattered makeup similar to what you would see on a ghoulish clown. His hair is string and dark blonde. Although Anthrax is lean he appears to be well-developed. His ring attire consists of a tattered gray loin cloth over black trunks and black boots. Anthrax steps into the ring and takes up residence in a corner that is opposite of where L.J. Kasey is located.
Simone: Although Anthrax is creepy he is creepy in an attractive way.
Lunam: I think you either need your eyes checked by an eye doctor or you are losing your mind but cannot tell you what to like or not to like.
Simone: Also I see Anthrax having the advantage in this match due to him being quirky and unpredictable.
Lunam: I would say LJ Kasey has the advantage. The reasons include his record in the wrestling ring and the fact that he has four inches of height over Anthrax but their weight are close. If I was a betting person I would place my bet on LJ Kasey.
Referee Dawn Barnes walks to the center of the ring and motions for Kasey and Anthrax to join her. When they come up and stand next to her she runs down to them how she will officiate this match. She lets both of them know she will not tolerate them violating the rules or refusing to break when she tells them to break. She tells them that if she has to issue two warnings then on the third warning the offender will be disqualified by her. Referee Barnes asks them if them fully understand how she is going to officiate this match and both inform her they understand. The final thing Referee Barnes does is to pat down both wrestlers to ensure they do not have weapons or some sort of substances on their bodies. Satisfied that both are clean she tells them to return to their corners and come out fighting when the bell from the Timekeeper sounds. Anthrax and L.J. Kasey return to their corners and as soon as they are set the Timekeeper rings the bell and this match is officially underway.
DING DING DING!
As the bell sounds Kasey and Anthrax come quickly out of their corners and slam into each other in the middle of the ring.
Lunam: Here we go!
Simone: Yes!!!
Both Anthrax and LJ Kasey fly out of their corners and they slam into each other in the center of the ring and they immediately start trading blows, kicks, and other maneuvers, to try to get their opponent off balance or on the mat. Currently the two are holding their own against the other and Referee Dawn Barnes remains close and focused on the action to ensure no illegal stuff is going on but currently with nothing illegal between the two wrestlers she remains back and remains focused on LJ and Anthrax.
Lunam: I figured that Anthrax would open up with something illegal and receive a warning from Referee Barnes. To be honest I am surprised that Anthrax has not yet done something illegal in tis match.
Simone: Dang Erik! Not everything is the way you perceive it. Both wrestlers came out of their corners and went right into the action of the match. No weapons. . .no illegal substances or weapons…so relax and enjoy the match okay!
Both Anthrax and LJ continue back and forth with each trying to get a major advantage so that they can take down and take advantage of the other. Right now they are even and we are anticipating something happening shortly to swing the match. While Anthrax and Kasey are continuing to try to obtain a strong advantage against the other we watch as Anthrax gouging the eyes of LJ Kasey and then he lashes out and starts choking LJ with his hands. Referee Barnes moves in quickly and she pulls Anthrax away from LJ Kasey then she gets in the face of Anthrax and issues a stern warning. Referee Barnes also adds to her comments to Anthrax that although she only gave him a warning this time that if he violates the rules again she will immediately issue a Disqualification on him. Although it is obvious that Anthrax understands what Referee Barnes just told him, and warned him, from prior wrestling matches we are sure he is likely to violate the warning from Referee Barnes when he gets another chance.
Lunam: Wow! Anthrax did not waste time in violating the rules. Now the question is whether Referee Barnes will disqualify Anthrax if he violates the rules again or if she will give him a second warning first.
Simone: Referee Barnes is one of the top Referees in Sin City Wrestling. We are not here to question her officiating abilities.
Referee Barnes is done being in the face of Anthrax and she gives him a warning to not violate the rules again and she will not hesitate to call a Disqualification on him. Anthrax is about to argue with Referee Barnes then he changes his mind. However just as Anthrax is turning around LJ Kasey has welked up close to him so when Anthrax turns around to continue his attack on Kasey we watch as LJ lands various, and legal, blows and maneuvers, to wear down Anthrax. As Anthrax is getting punched and kicked he looks at Referee Barnes to complain that Kasey is using illegal maneuvers and blows on him. Referee Barnes, being a very focused Referee, tells Anthrax to stop his theatrics as LJ Kasey is only landing legal blows and maneuvers on him. Referee Barnes, being a very focused Referee, tells Anthrax to stop his theatrics as LJ Kasey is only landing legal blows and maneuvers on him. Anthrax takes offense to the call by Referee Barnes so he charges on Kasey and the intent appears that he wants to knock Kasey through, or over, the ropes to cause Kasey to land on the ring apron or on the arena floor. Unfortunately, for Anthrax anyway, Kasey maneuvers so that the attempted charge on him by Anthrax fails and it is Anthrax who ends up getting flipped over the ring ropes to the arena floor.
Lunam: Belinda. . .can you say FAILED? I knew you could!
Simone: ERIK! Can you please chill out and slow down a bit? Just let LJ and Anthrax do what each other feels they need to do in order to win this match!
LJ looks over the ring ropes and he looks down on Anthrax who is on the arena floor and he appears to be slow getting off the floor and back on his feet. Anthrax takes offense at the taunting and he complains to Referee Barnes about it. Referee Barnes responds to Anthrax that there is nothing illegal about taunting an opponent, or laughing at them, or saying something that your opponent did not want to hear. Referee Barnes then begins the count on Anthrax who is outside of the ring and she also tells LJ Kasey to back away from the ropes to allow space for Anthrax to return inside of the ring and Kasey moves away from the ropes as he was asked to do. Referee Barnes begins her count on Anthrax who is outside of the ring and if Anthrax does not return inside the ring by her TEN count then she will issue a Disqualification on him.
ONE!
TWO!
Anthrax is slowly moving to the wrestling ring.
THREE!
FOUR!
Anthrax pulls himself up onto the ring apron as Referee Barnes warns LJ Kasey to remain back.
FIVE!
SIX!
Anthrax steps through the ring ropes and enters the ring. Referee Barnes stops her count on Anthrax as he is back inside of the ring. Then she motions to LJ Kasey and Anthrax to get back into the action of their match. Anthrax steps through the ropes and into the ring but he remains in the corner demanding Referee Barnes to order Kasey to remain back. Instead of getting what he asked for what he gets from Referee Barnes is her ordering him to get out of the corner and get into the action of the match or she will issue a Disqualification on him. Anthrax decides to obey Referee Barnes and step out of the corner. Anthrax and LJ Kasey lock up and both are working hard to get a quick advantage over the other. Both are trading blows to various parts on each other. After landing several hard whacks to the shoulder of Kasey we watch Anthrax grab onto the shoulder of LJ and tightly grab the shoulder causing a painful pinch on the shoulder of Kasey. Referee Barnes steps in and asks Kasey he is wants to submit and he yells out HELL NO so Referee Barnes backs off.
Simone: Well, Erik, it appears this is the end for LJ Kasey in this match.
Lunam: Belinda you always state that the match is not over until it is officially over as called by the Referee. Unless LJ submits, which I doubt that he will do, this match is still far from over.
LJ Kasey is maneuvering to manage more wiggle room to take the pressure of the Claw Hold on his shoulder to ease up. As Kasey is managing to wiggle out of the Claw Hold we watch as Anthrax struggles to maintain the pressure on the hold. LJ Kasey maneuvers to a corner where, when the wrestlers are in the corner ropes Referee Barnes calls for a break. Anthrax gets testy and he tells Referee Barnes to shut up and call the win in the match for him. Referee Barns takes offense to the insulting back-talk from Anthrax and she orders him to release the hold or he will be immediately disqualified. Anthrax has no action but to break the hold as Referee Barnes begins a short count on him to release the hold. Not wanting to be disqualified Anthrax decides to release the hold on Kasey.
Lunam: Referee Barnes knocked the wind out of the sails of Anthrax.
Simone: Just a temporary delay of the win for Anthrax over Kasey.
Referee Barnes motions for the two to get back into the action of the match. Anthrax charges out of the corner ropes and he lands a hard head-butt to the chest of Kasey. This causes Kasey to stop and massage his chest and take a deep breath. While LJ is working on that Anthrax climbs up on the top of the corner ropes and he is standing between the steel post holding the connections in place and the connection where the ring ropes are connected to the connections from the steel post. Anthrax has a huge grin on his face as he is positive he has this match won. Anthrax stands tall with his legs spread across the area where the ring ropes are attached between the ring post and the connections to the ring ropes in the corner of the ring.
Simone: It appears that LJ Kasey is about to go out of this match with a loss.
Lunam: The match is not over until Referee Barnes makes the official decision in the match.
Anthrax, feeling he has the win in hand, is bragging while standing on the ring rope connection cables and he is laughing so hard that he nearly loses his balance but he manages to stay standing on the rope of the connection cables holding the ring ropes in place. LJ Kasey has an angry look on his face and that looks tells us that he wants to destroy Anthrax by any means.
Lunam: Here comes the end of this match Belinda. Do not blink or you might miss it.
Simone: sigh
As LJ walks towards the corner ropes where Anthrax is standing on the top of the ring ropes and the connecting cables he takes the advantage by leaping up onto the corner ropes and when Anthrax tries to land blows on him LJ reaches up and lands a hard punch to the lower body of Anthrax. This blow causes Anthrax to lose his footing and he ends up dropping on to the corner connecting cables where he lands hard causing the connecting cables to deliver a vicious low blow to him. Referee Barnes is not able to call that as a violation as it was simply a side result of Anthrax losing his footing while standing on the ring ropes over the connecting cable.
Lunam: Oh man! I think every male in the arena just groaned from seeing that crotch shot on the cable.
Anthrax is trying to get his crotch off the cables but the pain is preventing him from moving too much. Kasey steps up on the ropes and he grabs onto Anthrax and he is able to maneuver him into a position where he is holding on to Anthrax and then LJ Kasey falls backward to the mat causing Anthrax to fly nearly half-way across the ring and landing hard on the mat. Kasey then quickly runs over the he grabs Anthrax and delivers a Spinning Hammerlock Tombstone Piledriver and then he dives on top of Anthrax for the pin. Referee Barnes drops into position for the count and checking that both of the shoulder of Anthrax are on the mat she delivers the count on the pin attempt.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!!!
Referee Barnes calls for the bell from the Timekeeper.
DING DING DING!
Referee Barnes tells LJ Kasey to get up off of Anthrax and stand next to her and he does so.
Lunam: Well, Belinda, I always hate to comment I TOLD YOU SO but. . .I TOLD YOU SO!!!
Simone: Grrr!!!
Justin: Ladies and Gentlemen, the official decision in this match, by Referee Dawn Barnes, is that the winner of this match, by pinfall, is L J KASEY!!!
Referee Barnes raises the hand of LJ Kasey for the win and the crowd shows their approval. Kasey then takes a victory walk around the ring before exiting the ring and heading into the backstage area. Back in the ring the medical staff are checking on the status of Anthrax to see if he would like to have assistance to return to the backstage area. Anthrax refuses their assistance and he slowly exits the ring and heads toward the backstage area.
Anthrax rolls out of frame, beaten. LJ Kasey doesn’t celebrate. He pushes himself up using the ropes, chest rising and falling hard, sweat dripping off his chin. A referee offers the mic. LJ snatches it without ceremony.
The crowd is still buzzing when he lifts it.
He waits.
Lets them feel it.
Then—
LJ: Cut the music.
The arena goes quiet.
LJ drags a hand through his hair and looks out over the crowd, jaw tight, eyes burning with something sharper than adrenaline.
LJ: So that’s done. Anthrax did exactly what everyone said he would. Tried to turn this into chaos. Tried to make it a circus.
He shrugs.
LJ: And he still walked out on his back.
Crowd reacts.
LJ’s tone shifts. Drops lower. Colder.
LJ: But that wasn’t the reason I came back.
The crowd hushes.
LJ turns toward the hard cam.
LJ: Brandon Hendrix.
The name hits like a slap.
LJ: You jumped me from behind. You attempted to put me on the shelf. You thought you were sending a message.
He shakes his head slowly.
LJ: All you did was wake something up.
Crowd noise rises again.
LJ: So here’s how this is gonna go, because I’m done asking and I’m done waiting.
He steps forward.
LJ: You don’t get a choice.
A beat.
LJ: At Blaze of Glory XV you’re not facing a comeback story. You’re not facing a redemption arc. And you’re damn sure not facing a nice guy.
LJ grips the mic tighter.
LJ: You’re facing someone who’s been sitting with this anger for weeks… and finally gets to do something about it.
He points straight at the camera.
LJ: I’m giving you the welcome back you deserve.
The crowd erupts.
LJ lowers the mic just enough to finish, voice dangerous and certain.
LJ: Hope you’re ready, Hendrix. Because your comeback tour is about to get cut short as I send your ass back to the retirement home.
He drops the mic. There was no pose, no celebration. Just a man standing in the ring, breathing hard, eyes locked forward because the hunt has officially begun.
The camera cuts backstage to the Climax Control logo backdrop. Pussy Willow stands ready with her microphone. Beside her, Seleana Zdunich enters slowly, her eyes red from tears, with Zenna Zdunich standing beside her for support. The mood is tense; Seleana’s composure wavers between heartbreak and controlled fury.
Pussy Willow: Seleana, you witnessed everything that happened at Inception. First, how is Crystal tonight, and what’s your reaction to Mercedes Vargas’s comments earlier?
Seleana takes a deep breath, steadying herself before answering, her voice trembling at first but growing sharper with every word.
Seleana: How is she? She’s hurt. She’s in pain because someone she trusted decided that winning wasn’t enough. Mercedes didn’t just attack her tag partner, she attacked my wife. That woman has no soul left, ja? No honor.
Pussy Willow: Will you be seeking retribution?
Seleana’s tone hardens; her grief turns into pure purpose.
Seleana: Absolutely. You can quote me, ja. Mercedes Vargas… you broke our family in front of the world. Now, I am going to break you. I don’t care if it happens next week, next month, or in the main event of the next big show! I am not stopping until I make her regret ever laying a hand on Crystal.
Pussy Willow: Do you have any update on Crystal’s condition tonight?
Seleana: They said she’s stable. She’s getting scans. She’ll fight again. I know her. Crystal Zdunich doesn’t stay down for long.
Seleana stares hard directly into the camera, her voice dropping to almost a whisper.
Seleana: And neither do I.
Without another word, Seleana turns and walks off screen. Zenna follows close behind as Ms. Rocky Mountains lowers the mic, letting the moment speak for itself before the camera fades to black.
We cut to the backstage area and it is there where we open to the sight of Crystal Zdunich. As soon as we see her it is at that moment that we can hear loud cheers from the audience. The crowd begins to cheer Crystal’s name louder and louder. She smirks as she is standing in the office of Christian Underwood.
Christian: I was expecting for you to come back next week but it is good to see you tonight.
Crystal nods her head as the crowd continues to chant her name louder and louder. She nods her head as she looks at Christian.
Crystal: You hear that Christian? It’s crazy to think that over a month or so ago the crowd hated me but now they seem to love me.
Christian: Well for the first time that I can recall you made a very unselfish and selfless decision. Nobody expected you to save Seleana and put yourself in her place.
Crystal: Well despite what people might think or what Mercedes might have been saying. I love my wife. Seleana and my kids are the most important thing to me. However the reason I am here tonight is because Blaze of Glory is coming up. It’s clear that Vargas tried to end my career. It is clear that she never valued me and she simply used me to just get to the World Championship and she even took my title. However I just want to say that I feel great. I am in a great place and it feels amazing to have the fan support. If Mercedes wants to end my career by all means I want to give her the chance to properly do so and I want to give her the chance to do it for the World Bombshell Championship.
Christian thinks about it as he looks at Crystal and just shakes his head at her.
Christian: Crystal… As much as I know you want that I…
Before he could even finish his sentence that is when Evelyn Hall walks into the shot. She crosses her arms as she glances at Crystal.
Evelyn Hall: Truth be told I know you want a piece of Mercedes and I know the entire world would love to see you get your hands on her but there seems to be a little traffic jam within the World Bombshell division. Kayla is still owed a rematch and Frankie is in the same boat. I know you want to fight Vargas but the two of them need to get what is owed to them before we even get to the thought of you facing Vargas with your title on the line.
Crystal: Look I am a fighting champion and these fans all seem to believe in me. I believe in me and the way that Seleana was by my bedside I know she believes in me as well. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for my children telling me that I can push onward. I am even surprised to get a phone call from Tempest telling me that she wished that I recovered quickly. Despayre and Angel of all people even visited me at the hospital. I have done a lot of bad stuff in my wrestling career but I want to do things differently. I want to be a fighting champion. If I have to show Kayla and Frankie what I am about so be it, but regardless if I am champion or not I want Mercedes Vargas at Blaze of Glory. I want her in an a Japanese Deathmatch. I want to brutalize her and give her a beating that no woman has ever gone through in SCW. If I am champion it can be for the title and if I am not then it can be for who challenges next because I am sure I will be owed a rematch clause by then. I am willing to put that on the line just to get her.
Christian: Crystal… I…
Evelyn Hall: If that’s what you want so be it, but be careful…
Crystal smirks nodding her head as she walks out of the office to cheers.
Simone: Welcome back to Climax Control and our next match! Last week we saw Bea Barnhart defeat Zenna Zdunich to advance in the Internet Title Series and now? Zenna’s cousin Seleana fights to secure her spot against Alexandra Callaway!
Lunam: This is Seleana and Alexandra’s first Climax Control match of the year and they look set to kick things off with a big win, especially with Alexandra’s history with Victoria Lyons!
Simone: This should be a good match, let’s take it to Justin!
Justin: The following contest is an Internet Title Series Match, scheduled for one fall!
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 walks through the entranceway and makes her way to the ring, slapping hands along the way as the crowd cheers her on.
Justin: Introducing first, from Halmstad, Sweden, “THE CAT” SELEANA ZDUNICH!
Simone: Seleana has been trying for six years to get back in the title scene and this is her latest attempt!
Lunam: We have roster members who were in their mid-teens AT LEAST when Seleana last held gold!
Simone: Gee, thanks, now I need to check for grey hairs!
Justin: And her opponent!
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: 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 coming off a loss to Alicia Lukas in a Last Bombshell Standing Match for the Bombshell Roulette Title at Inception VIII but this could be her opportunity to get in the Internet Title Scene and win the Bombshell Internet Title for the first time!
Lunam: But Seleana won’t make it easy for her!
Jacob goes over the rules with both women before he calls for the bell.
DING DING DING!
Simone: And tonight’s Internet Title Qualifier is underway!
Lunam: This will be good!
Once the bell rings Seleana and Alexandra lock up in the middle of the ring before Selena backs Alexandra up to the ring ropes, Jacob forces the break and Seleana whips Aleandra across the ring before hitting a high dropkick on the rebound! Seleana goes for the first pin of the match as Jacob gets into position.
ONE!
TWO!
And Alexandra kicks out.
Simone: Seleana will have to try harder to keep Alexandra down for the count!
Lunam: But it made Alexandra use energy!
Seleana shakes her head before she picking up Alexandra only for Alexandra to hit the taller bombshell with a European Uppercut that sends the Blonde Swede stumbling back towards the ropes, Seleana tries to regain the advantage on the rebound but gets turned inside out by a Lariat from Alexandra who quickly turns the Swede over and goes for her first pin of the match as Jacob gets into position.
ONE!
TWO!
And Seleana kicks out.
Simone: And Alexandra fights back with a pin attempt of her own!
Lunam: Nearly sending Seleana’s head into the cheap seats in the process.
Seleana rolls out of the ring before Alexandra can press the advantage and when Alexandra goes to follow Seleana out? Jacob stops her in her tracks so he can apply the count fairly and give Seleana a chance to catch her breath, Alexandra’s response? Climb up the nearest turnbuckle and hit Seleana with a crossbody to the floor, forcing Jacob to restart his count in the process while both women regain their bearings.
Simone: And now Alexandra’s taken to the skies!
Lunam: And Seleana felt the brunt of it! As did Jacob’s count!
Alexandra gets up first at the count of seven and rolls Seleana back into the ring where she goes for a pin!
ONE!
TWO!
And Seleana kicks out! Alexandra shakes her head before she drags Seleana to the came corner she had leapt from for the Cross Body and heads up to the top rope! However her attempted Senton gets countered when Seleana gets her knees up and Seleana seizes the opportunity to hit Alexandra with a Standing Shooting Star Press before going for a pin.
ONE!
TWO!
And Alexandra kicks out! Unfortunately for Alexandra? Seleana follows that up by dragging her to the centre of the ring and locking in a Muta Lock!
Simone: Alexandra might be in trouble thanks to Seleana’s submission hold!
Lunam: Will she tap?
Jacob gets into position to ask Alexandra if she wants to submit to Seleana but the Texan is adamant in her refusal to give up that easily as she starts crawling her way over to the ring ropes to try to force the rope break, Seleana does her best to stop Alexandra but Alexandra makes it to the ropes and forces the rope break! Jacob starts the count to force Seleana to let go though in her defence? The Muta Lock isn’t exactly a move you can break on the fly.
Simone: Alexandra’s reaches the ropes, she’s still in this!
Lunam: And Seleana just showed why the Muta Lock isn’t used that often!
Seleana drags Alexandra back to the centre of the ring for another pin attempt!
ONE!
TWO!
And Alexandra still gets the shoulder up! Seleana retreats to the outside to rethink her plan for the match and Jacob starts the count again! Said count only reaches four before Alexandra blitzes past Jacob and hits Seleana with a Suicide Dive, forcing him to restart the count as the crowd comes unglued!
Simone: Alexandra is not letting Seleana have a moment’s rest!
Lunam: And that’s putting it mildly!
Jacob barely has time to restart this count before Alexandra throws Seleana back in and follows her in for another pin attempt.
ONE!
TWO!
And Seleana still kicks out! Alexandra goes for another pin, hooking the legs this time!
ONE!
TWO!
And Seleana still gets the shoulder up! Alexandra looks at Jacob disbelievingly as she clearly thought she had the match won but gets caught with a School Girl Roll-Up by Seleana!
ONE!
TWO!
And Alexandra BARELY kicks out! Both women get to their feet and charge in at the same time for a clothesline, knocking them both down!
Simone: Whoever gets up first gets the advantage!
Lunam: And Alexandra has momentum from that pin attempt on Seleana!
Seleana gets to her feet first and, after surveying the scene before her, decides it’s time to end this as she signals for the Kattoga!
Simone: Seleana’s going for her finisher!
Lunam: Can she hit it on Alexandra?
Seleana goes for the Assaii DDT but Alexandra powers her up mid-move into a Powerbomb Position, hoists her up and drives Seleana down with the Last Ride!
Simone: And there’s Alexandra with the Apocalypse Counter!
Lunam: Stick a fork in Seleana, she’s done!
Alexandra goes for the pin!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!!!!
DING! DING! DING!
Justin: HERE’S YOUR WINNER, ALEXANDRA CALLAWAY!
Simone: Alexandra moves on to round two to face her old rival Bea Barnhart!
Lunam: Better luck next time Seleana!
Alexandra celebrates while Jacob checks on Seleana.
We cut to the backstage area where we see Harper Mason pacing around with her arms crossed.
Harper: So, not only is Mercedes Vargas a backstabbing bitch, a title thief and not a nice person in general but she continues to prove my point: she can’t win matches on her own!
Harper shakes her head,
Harper: Last week she resorted to attacking me with Chrystal Hilton’s World Bombshell Title and look, I have no love loss for the woman with many names but as a former champion myself? What Mercedes did to Chrystal was bullshit, plain and fucking simple!
Harper lets out a deep breath.
Harper: Mercedes? I hope you’re watching because I will be back to get my revenge on your ancient ass for that crap! And to whoever I face next? Don’t expect any mercy because what happened last week has me fired up!
Harper storms off as the scene fades.
Camera cuts from the ring to the backstage curtain area, the audio shifting from arena roar to that tight, echoing hallway ambience, footsteps, muffled chatter, and the distant thump of entrance music bleeding through the walls.
Seleana comes backstage through the curtains and walks up the hallway, breathing hard, sweat still slick on her shoulders, one hand rolling her neck as she tries to reset after the match. She takes two steps and slows.
There’s a crowd ahead. Staff, wrestlers, production assistants, a couple of security shirts, even a few agents, all packed shoulder-to-shoulder like something’s blocking the corridor. People are craning their necks, whispering, pointing, the atmosphere thick and wrong.
Simone: What on earth!?
Seleana’s expression tightens and she moves faster, pushing forward with impatience that turns into concern, then into pure alarm. She wedges between two crew members, shoulders past a ring attendant, ignores a hand trying to stop her, and forces her way through the human wall.
And then she sees it.
Zenna is on the floor.
Out cold, body twisted slightly on her side like she dropped mid-step. There’s a smear of blood beneath her head, and a fresh gash split open on her temple, ugly and wet, hair matted where crimson has soaked in. One of Zenna’s arms is limp, fingers half-curled, her chest rising shallowly.
Seleana freezes for half a heartbeat, the shock hitting like a knee to the gut. Then her face drains and her whole body snaps forward on instinct.
Simone: Oh my god, that’s Zenna! Somebody tell me what happened!
Seleana drops to her knees but a medic immediately blocks her path with an arm, firm but careful, keeping her from getting too close. Two paramedics are already working, one pressing gauze to the wound, the other checking Zenna’s responsiveness and stabilizing her head. A third worker opens a kit with practiced speed, the sound of velcro and plastic cutting through the hushed crowd.
Seleana’s eyes are wide and furious, bouncing between the blood, the medics’ hands, and the faces around her like the hallway itself might suddenly confess.
Seleana: Zenna! Zenna, hey, hey, look at me! What the hell happened!? Who did this!?
One of the paramedics glances up just long enough to shake their head, wordless, focused, while another adjusts the gauze and calls for more light. A production assistant fumbles with a handheld, raising it so the medics can see better.
Seleana tries to lean in again and gets checked back, her hands hovering uselessly, trembling with helpless anger. Her jaw flexes hard, eyes burning as she stares at the blood and then whips her head around at the crowd.
Seleana: Somebody saw something! Don’t stand there, tell me! Who was here!?
The people in the hallway shift uncomfortably. A couple of staff look away. A wrestler takes a step back like they don’t want to be associated with the moment. Security starts urging people to clear the space, palms out, trying to open air around Zenna and the medics.
The camera dips lower, catching Zenna’s face in profile, pale against the concrete floor, the dark red line of the gash stark and alarming. A paramedic checks her pupils, then speaks urgently to the others, and they prepare to move her.
Seleana’s eyes track every motion, breathing ragged now, her anger sharpening into something colder as she realizes this wasn’t an accident. This was a message.
Simone: This is sick. Whoever did this, they did it in the middle of our backstage area, and Zenna’s bleeding on the floor!
As security finally spreads the crowd back, the camera finds a sliver of open space behind them, just beyond the circle of paramedics, half-hidden by a road case and a dangling cable line.
There, on the concrete, sits something small.
A dolly.
One of Twisted Sister’s macabre little creations, posed upright like it was placed carefully, deliberately. Its button eyes catch the harsh hallway light, glossy and dead, its stitched smile too wide, too patient. A thin ribbon is tied around its neck, and its tiny hands rest neatly in its lap as if it’s waiting to be picked up.
The camera slowly zooms in, crowd noise dulling to a low, uneasy murmur. The dolly doesn’t move.
It just watches.
Closeup shot of the dolly.
Backstage at the Selland Arena, the camera finds Ciarán Doyle in a quiet corridor near the lockers, posted up beside a stack of black road cases. He’s already in his gear, white and gold tights with Celtic knotwork running the length of his hips, the legs laced up in a way that shows off plenty of bare skin. Emerald green boots planted firm on the concrete. Metallic rose gold wrist wraps catching the harsh fluorescent light every time he moves.
Ciarán rolls his shoulders, then reaches down to tighten the lacing on one boot. He pauses for half a second, jaw tensing, like a bruise just reminded him it exists. Still, his eyes stay locked forward, focused, steady. All business.
That’s when Pussy Willow steps into frame with a mic.
Pussy Willow: Ciarán, I’m here with you backstage at the Selland Arena. How are you holding up after last week’s post match attack by Brandon Hendrix?
Ciaran: Ah I’ve had rougher goes of it, love. I’ve done bachelorette parties where the crowd was armed with novelty whistles and bad intentions, and I was in me birthday suit with nowhere to hide but me pride.
He gives a tight smirk, then flexes his taped wrist like he’s testing the wrap.
Ciaran: Brandon Hendrix, though. That fella’s the sort who has to get himself disqualified just to keep from losin proper. Couldn’t beat me straight, so he did what cowards do, he reached for the cheap exit. Then he has a go after the bell, like that’s supposed to prove somethin. Congratulations, lad, you can ambush a man when the fight’s done. Real impressive stuff.
Pussy Willow nods, watching him shift his weight. Ciarán reaches one arm across his chest for a stretch. The moment he pulls, his ribs and shoulder clearly bark at him. He winces, fast, controlled, but it’s there.
Pussy Willow: Tonight you’re scheduled to face Alexander Raven. How are you feeling going into that match?
Ciaran: I’m feelin like I’m goin to work, is what I’m feelin.
He stretches again, slower this time, jaw set.
Ciaran: Raven thinks he’s a shark, yeah. Smellin blood in the water, circlin, all that dramatic nonsense. But here’s the part he forgets. Even great whites have natural predators. And tonight, he’s lookin right at one.
Ciarán steps closer to the camera, voice dropping into something colder, more personal.
Ciaran: He wants to play mind games, he wants to make it all spooky lights and bird noises and pretend he’s inevitability on two legs. Grand. Let him try. I’m not panicked. I’m not prey. I’m the bite back. If he comes at me thinkin I’m softened up, he’s gonna learn what happens when you lunge at a man who’s already decided he’s takin your head clean off your shoulders.
Pussy Willow: Thank you, Ciarán. Good luck tonight.
Ciaran: Cheers, love.
He gives her a quick wink, then pulls the straps on his wrist wraps one last time, tightens his jaw, and walks out of frame with purpose, boots thudding against the concrete as the camera lingers on the empty corridor for a beat.
Camera cuts to ringside where referee Drew Patton enters the ring. He checks the turnbuckles with quick, practiced tugs, leans down to inspect the canvas seams near the corner posts, then stands tall in the center as the crowd buzzes with that pre-match electricity that always feels like it might spark into a riot at any second.
Justin: The following contest is scheduled for one fall!
As the opening rift of 'Kafka' by Jinjer begins to play out the lights change to a darkish blue, filling the area with a hazy blue. Smoke billows from the entrance way, covering the ramp and creating a cloud big enough for a person to stand in at the entrance curtain.
Alexander bursts from the smoke cloud, eyes open wide as he slowly casts his gaze over the crowd. His face drawn and stoic, the slight flaring of his nostrils as he nods a little to himself. His hand extends out to his side, as Luna Pasilno steps through the smoke, taking his hand in hers. The two of them slowly begin to make their way down the ramp, hand in hand.
Justin: Introducing first! Accompanied by Luna Pasilno! From San Antonio, Texas! Weighing two hundred and twenty-five pounds! Alexander Raaaaaaven!
As they reach the ring apron, they let go each others hands, Alexander stepping up onto the ring apron, and turns to look back at Luna. The two of them locking eyes as he slowly steps backwards through the ropes, never breaking gaze from her. An unspoken acknowledgement as he slowly steps backwards toward the centre of the ring, Luna making her way around the ringside area taking up place nearby. Alexander coming to a stop in the middle of the ring, eyes still locked on her.
Lunam: Ye can feel it, lads and lasses—Raven’s got that cold stare that says he’s already in the war, and everyone else is just catchin’ up. That’s a man who believes the world title is his destiny, not his goal.
Simone: And that’s what makes his quest so dangerous, Justin. Raven is surgical when he wants to be, and absolutely merciless when he needs to be. Blaze of Glory XV is circled on his calendar in red ink, because he wants that rematch against Helluva Bottom Carter more than he wants oxygen.
Lunam: Carter’s the world champion for a reason, aye, but Raven’s the kind that’ll exploit a breath, a blink, a bad angle. He’s after that crown, and he’s not shy about the shortcuts he’ll take to get there.
Raven paces with quiet purpose, loosening his shoulders, rolling his wrists, eyes flicking to the ropes as though he’s already measuring distances. Drew Patton gestures for Luna to keep her distance, and she gives a tiny, sweet smile that doesn’t match how sharp her attention is, like she’s watching a chessboard and counting moves ahead.
Justin: And his opponent!
The arena lights drop into darkness with only a thin gold line glows across the stage. A hush ripples through the crowd. Then Antti Martikainen’s “Lords of Iron” erupts; deep drums, metallic Celtic strings, and a rising battle rhythm that shakes the air. On the very first swell of the melody, a spotlight snaps to life at the top of the ramp and Ciarán Doyle steps into it.
The crowd erupts instantly with cheers, signs waving, fans on their feet!
Justin: Making his way to the ring! From Killarney, County Kerry, Ireland! Weighing 167 pounds! He is the 'Dawnhart' Ciarán Doyle!
The introduction echoes as Ciarán begins his walk, the battle-charged rhythm matching the sway of his steps. He slips off the stage and moves down the ramp with a fluid, dancer’s glide, every motion smooth, confident, magnetic. Fans reach out and he meets them with touches of high fives, warm nods, quick smiles that light up his whole face.
At ringside he pauses, hands the nearest fan another white feather, then slides under the bottom rope with effortless grace. He rises in one fluid motion and heads straight for the corner, stepping onto the second turnbuckle. He spreads his arms as the camera catches his hair falling over his shoulder as he leans forward, inviting the crowd’s roar.
Ciarán hops down, runs a hand through his hair, and circles the ring with a focused calm settling in. The showman’s smile fades into a warrior’s readiness. He grips the top rope, testing its spring, body relaxed but poised, centered and prepared.
The music fades and Ciarán Doyle turns toward the center of the ring, eyes locked and expression sharpened, ready for the match to begin.
Lunam: Last week, Brandon Hendrix tried to take the man’s head off after the bell, and I’m tellin’ ye! Those attacks don’t just vanish because the music hits. Ye can walk it off, ye can smile it off, but the body keeps receipts.
Simone: Exactly. Ciarán has all the heart in the world, but being at less than one hundred percent changes your timing, your landing, your ability to absorb impact. And against Raven, who targets joints, spine, breathing? Being even five percent off can be fatal.
Ciarán and Raven meet at center ring, nose-to-nose without a word, the contrast almost poetic: Raven’s stillness like a blade held perfectly level, Ciarán’s energy like a flame that refuses to be cupped. Drew Patton raises both hands, checks each man’s gear, then backs away and points to the timekeeper.
DING DING DING!
They circle, feinting, testing range. Ciarán dips low with that dancer’s posture, hands open, shoulders loose; Raven is more contained, elbows in, ready to pounce. They lock up, and Raven immediately shifts into a side headlock, cranking down with a snug squeeze to see how Ciarán’s ribs respond. Ciarán grimaces, but he doesn’t panic. He plants his feet, steps through, and whips Raven across with an Irish whip that Raven reverses at the last second.
Ciarán hits the ropes, comes back fast, and Raven tries a Lou Thesz press but Ciarán rolls his hips, catches Raven’s momentum, and snaps him over with a clean arm drag that turns into an armbar transition on the mat. Raven’s eyes widen just a hair, not from fear, but from surprise at how sharp that trap was. Ciarán keeps the pressure, elbows tight, forcing Raven to fight up one knee at a time.
Simone: That’s the mat wrestling edge for Ciarán. He doesn’t just do holds. He strings them. He turns you into a puzzle and then solves you in real time.
Raven counters by grabbing a handful of Ciarán’s hair as he rises, just long enough to yank Ciarán forward into a standing elbow drop across the forearm and shoulder. Drew Patton warns him, Raven releases like he’s innocent, and then lands a sharp thrust kick to Ciarán’s midsection that folds him. Raven follows with straight punches, tight, brawling shots, driving Ciarán back into the corner before Patton forces separation.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
FOUR!
Raven backs off at four with a smug tilt of the head, then surges right back in with a facewasher boot to a seated Ciarán, grinding the sole across Doyle’s cheekbone like he’s trying to erase him. The crowd boos the disrespect, and Luna’s smile turns pleased at ringside, hands clasped as if she’s watching a recital go exactly as planned.
Ciarán explodes out of the corner with a jumping enzuigiri that cracks Raven near the jaw, snapping his head to the side. Raven stumbles, and Ciarán doesn’t waste the opening, running headscissors takedown, flinging Raven across the mat, then a rolling sobat kick to the ribs as Raven tries to sit up. Ciarán hits the ropes and comes back with a flying forearm smash that drops Raven flat. Ciarán hooks a leg.
ONE!
TWO!
Raven kicks out with force, shoving Ciarán off like he’s offended by the audacity. They rise, and Ciarán goes to work: spinning back kick to the midsection, then a quick snap hurricanrana that spikes Raven’s balance and sends him rolling. Ciarán scoops him into a snap suplex with a float-over cover, bridging his hips neatly, shoulders pinned tight.
ONE!
TWO!
Raven pops a shoulder up, but Ciarán stays attached, shifting seamlessly into a grounded octopus stretch that torques the shoulder and traps the neck at a wicked angle. Raven’s boots scuff the canvas as he tries to twist out, and when that fails, he drags Ciarán inch by inch toward the ropes, only to stop short and roll his own body weight forward, trying to stack Ciarán’s shoulders.
ONE!
TWO!
Ciarán slips free, springing to his feet with a tight little hop, and the crowd roars at the escape. Raven rolls out to a knee, eyes narrowed, then darts in with a slingblade that whips Ciarán down hard. Raven doesn’t admire it; he’s already hauling Ciarán up by the wrist, snapping him into a belly-to-back suplex, and then, without giving him time to breathe, bridging into a German suplex that rattles the ring.
Lunam: That’s Raven’s rhythm right there! One mistake and he’s playin’ your spine like a drum, lad.
Simone: And notice how he’s forcing Ciarán to land awkwardly. If Ciarán’s not one hundred percent after that Hendrix attack, Raven is going to find the weak spot and keep poking it until it becomes a crater.
Raven stalks, grabs Ciarán, and whips him hard into the ropes. Ciarán rebounds and eats a shining wizard to the side of the head, his legs turning to water. Raven hooks both legs deep.
ONE!
TWO!
Ciarán kicks out, but his face tells the story! He’s blinking through fog now. Raven sits him up and drives an elbow drop straight down across the collarbone, then clamps on a Boston crab, sitting deep, hips low, trying to fold Ciarán in half. Ciarán claws forward, fingers scraping, jaw clenched as the crowd starts clapping a steady beat to will him onward. He grabs the ropes and Drew forces a break!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
FOUR!
Raven yanks him back from the ropes at four, trying to be cute, trying to steal more pain. Patton admonishes him again, and Raven releases with an exaggerated shrug, then promptly boots Ciarán in the side of the head the second he starts to rise.
That’s when Ciarán snaps. He springs up with a spinning backfist that catches Raven flush, then follows with a leg sweep into a standing moonsault combo that lands clean across Raven’s chest. Ciarán rolls through, pops up, and the crowd crescendos as he puts his hands behind his head and does that slow, shameless, sexy hip grind, pure showmanship, pure swagger, drawing whistles, cheers, and a chorus of delighted screams.
Simone: Oh my god, Ciarán Doyle has never been subtle a day in his life, and the crowd is eating it up!
Lunam: Ha! That’s the Dawnhart for ye! Fight like a saint, celebrate like a sinner. If Raven’s not careful, Ciarán’ll turn this into a party and leave him out in the cold!
Ciarán darts in with a running sling blade, then a jumping neckbreaker that snaps Raven down again. He hits the ropes, launches into the Aengus Flight, running springboard crossbody, crashing into Raven with a full-body impact. Ciarán stacks him up tight!
ONE!
TWO!
Raven kicks out, and in the scramble he snakes a thumb toward Ciarán’s eye, quick and dirty, forcing Ciarán to recoil and blink hard. Patton doesn’t see it clearly, but the crowd sure does, and the boos roll down like thunder. Raven capitalizes instantly, hauling Ciarán up and tossing him through the ropes with a rough shove that sends him tumbling to the floor. Raven slides out after him, and the moment his boots touch the mats, his expression hardens into something predatory. He slams Ciarán spine-first into the barricade, then drives a closed fist into the ribs - one, two, three - each shot thudding like a mallet against a drum. Ciarán doubles over, trying to protect his midsection, and Raven rakes him across the edge of the apron, then whips him into the ring post with a sickening clang.
Simone: This is exactly what we meant! Raven will take it outside, slow the pace, and punish the body! This is not about style points for him, it’s about control.
Lunam: Drew Patton’s startin’ the count, and Raven doesn’t care, because every second out here is another second he can carve Doyle down to size!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
FOUR!
FIVE!
SIX!
Raven rolls into the ring to break the count, then slides back out with a cruel grin, buying himself more time to inflict damage. He drags Ciarán up by the wrist and throws him back in like discarded laundry, then follows and drops a springboard elbow across Doyle’s sternum, hooking the far leg with a vicious pull.
ONE!
TWO!
Ciarán kicks out, but it’s weaker now, more instinct than power. Raven sits him up and threads his arms, almost teasing the double hammerlock position, making the arena collectively hold its breath. Ciarán fights the hands, twisting, trying to slip out, but Raven clubs the back with a brawling punch, then snaps him into an exploder suplex that launches him across the ring.
Ciarán lands near the corner, and Raven charges with another shining wizard attempt, only for Ciarán to slip sideways at the last possible moment. Raven’s knee smacks the turnbuckle, and he staggers out, stunned. Ciarán seizes him with a tilt-a-whirl DDT, spiking him down clean, and the crowd erupts as Ciarán crawls into a cover, forearm across Raven’s chest, desperation and grit woven together.
ONE!
TWO!
Raven powers out, but Ciarán is already transitioning! La Magistral cradle, quick twist, shoulders hooked!
ONE!
TWO!
Raven kicks free again, and both men rise like they’re climbing out of deep water. Ciarán throws a roundhouse crescent kick that grazes Raven’s temple, then tries for a Northern Lights suplex, but Raven blocks by hooking Ciarán’s leg and driving short punches into the ribs until the hold breaks! Raven pulls Ciarán in, traps the arms, and hits it! The Kingslayer! Double Hammerlock DDT! The impact is sharp and final, like a door slamming in a silent house. Ciarán’s body jolts, then goes limp for half a heartbeat, and Raven doesn’t even bother with a pin. He wants something more decisive, something that lingers!
He rolls Ciarán onto his belly, threads the arm under the chin, and locks in The Conspiracy - Bulldog choke - his bicep wedged tight, hips sprawled, legs scissored for leverage. Ciarán’s fingers claw at Raven’s forearm, boots kicking, trying to turn, trying to reach ropes that feel a mile away. The crowd stomps and shouts, willing him onward, but Raven squeezes like a man closing a vice!
Simone: The Conspiracy is in deep! Look at the positioning! Ciarán can’t get his base, he can’t rotate his shoulders, and every breath is getting stolen!
Lunam: If he doesn’t tap, he’s goin’ to sleep! Raven’s got it cinched, and he’s smilin’ through the strain! This is a man who enjoys the moment the fight leaves your eyes!
Ciarán fights, fights, fights! One last reach, one last surge … then his hand trembles, falters, and slaps the mat!
DING DING DING!
Justin: Here is your winner! Alexander Raven!
Raven releases immediately, standing over Ciarán with a measured calm, chest rising and falling like he’s just completed a routine. Luna Pasilno slides into the ring, and Raven turns to her, the intensity melting into something almost tender as she takes his face in her hands for a brief moment, then raises his arm high! The crowd reaction is mixed: respect for the win, anger at the tactics, awe at the precision!
Simone: Love him or hate him, that was a statement. Raven didn’t just beat Ciarán Doyle! He neutralized him, dismantled him, and made sure there was no doubt when it ended.
Lunam: And now he marches on with momentum, aye? Raven’s eyes are on Helluva Bottom Carter, on that world title, on Blaze of Glory XV. If Carter’s watchin’, he’s just seen exactly how Raven plans to fight, by takin’ the air from your lungs and the hope from your hands!
Raven and Luna stand center ring, basking in the moment! Raven’s gaze drifting to the hard cam like he’s staring straight through it, straight toward the championship future he believes he’s owed, while Ciarán lies near the ropes, breathing hard, one hand at his throat, the other pushing at the mat as he starts to sit up, pride bruised but not broken!
Backstage the camera picks up the World Heavyweight Champion Helluva Bottom Carter watching the proceedings on the monitor with a look of determined disgust on his face….
The scene opens backstage at Climax Control where we see the reigning SCW Roulette Champion Logan Hunter and his managers Brooke and Marissa Shields standing by for an interview with SCW Backstage Interviewer Pussy Willow.
Brooke: Really? You were the only interviewer available after everything that happened last week?
Pussy Willow: Yep!
Marissa shakes her head.
Marissa: You two keep it up and it’ll be the first time that a feud between a manager and a backstage interviewer ends up in the Feud of the Year category come the Year End Awards!
Brooke: PUH-LEASE! If we do win that award it was because it featured the most beautiful manager in SCW History!
Marissa: Brooke, we’re twin sisters, if you’re shooting for that title then so should I!
Simone: I mean, she isn’t wrong!
Lunam: The Shields Sisters are devastatingly attractive, emphasis on devastatingly!
Pussy shakes her head.
Pussy Willow: Logan, last week we found out that Ryan Keys will be your first Roulette Title Challenger at Blaze of Glory and earlier tonight Ryan picked up the win over Brayden Williams thoughts? Especially as you have Liam Davis in tonight’s main event non-title match!
Logan: Ryan’s opponent was weak, I am not and tonight I will make an example of Liam Davis as a message to Ryan!
Brooke gets in Pussy’s face.
Brooke: And besides, Logan will show the world why he is the true Future Star of the Year and NOT Liam!
Pussy Willow: Can you give me my personal space?
Brooke: PUH-LEASE! This isn’t the fact time I’ve had a pussy this close to my face!
Simone: Did she seriously just say that?!
Lunam: Unfortunately.
Marissa audibly snorts as she tries to hold back laughter and Logan shakes his head.
Logan: Come Ryan, I have such sights to show you in tonight’s Main Event!
Logan and the two sisters walk off as the scene fades.
The camera snaps back from the blackout, not to the ring, but to a live backstage shot inside the concrete maze of the Selland Arena. The audio still has that faint residue of Raven’s static, like the feed is irritated on principle.
Helluva Bottom Carter stands in a hallway lined with black drape and road cases. The World Title is over his shoulder, the plates catching the harsh white of the overhead fluorescents. He isn’t smiling. He isn’t playing to anyone. It looks like somebody grabbed him the second Raven’s screen cut out and Carter said, Fine. Put a camera on me.
He adjusts the belt once, slow. Then he looks straight into the lens like it’s a person.
HBCarter: So that’s what we’re doing now. Raven sits on the floor backstage like a rejected album cover, talks real tough, spits on the camera, and then scurries off like the building’s on fire.
A couple of crew members drift behind him, out of focus, pretending not to listen while absolutely listening. Carter barely blinks.
HBCarter: You wanna talk about loud. You wanna talk about squawking. Buddy, you came out with birds, static, and a whole lot of drama… just to tell everyone you’re the only guy in this company ‘worthy.’
He pats the faceplate of the title with two fingers, the metallic thud crisp in the mic.
HBCarter: That’s not confidence. That’s a man trying to convince himself the mirror isn’t lying.
Carter takes one step closer. The frame tightens naturally because he’s crowding the camera, not because anyone zoomed.
HBCarter: You name-dropped half the roster like you’re reading your own little hit list, like none of them matter. Let me make something clear. Sin City Wrestling isn’t a one-man show, and it sure as hell isn’t your therapy session. You don’t get to belittle the locker room to inflate that fragile ego you’re lugging around like luggage with a broken wheel.
He shifts the belt on his shoulder, the leather creaking. His voice lowers.
HBCarter: And since you dragged my name into it, I’ll talk about the part you conveniently skipped. You wanna paint me as some whining champion because I didn’t clap like a seal when management handed you another shot.
Carter lets out a single laugh, no humor in it.
HBCarter: I’m not mad because you got a match. I’m mad because you keep doing what you always do. You twist reality, you twist people, you twist every situation until you can pretend you’re the victim and the predator at the same time.
He tilts his head, like he’s listening for something down the corridor, then returns his eyes to the camera.
HBCarter: You wanna say you’re the only one they see ‘potential’ in. That’s cute. You know what I see. I see a guy who needs noise because silence terrifies him. I see a guy who hides behind chaos, behind mind games, behind excuses, behind Luna, behind anything that keeps the spotlight from landing too long on what you really are.
Carter’s jaw flexes once. He gestures down the hallway with the hand not holding the belt.
HBCarter: And speaking of Luna. Real interesting that she wasn’t there, Raven. Real interesting that the first time you try to sound like a man of honor, the one person who usually does your talking, your distracting, your clean-up work… is nowhere to be seen.
He pauses, letting that hang in the air like a weight.
HBCarter: Now I heard your ‘golden ticket.’ You standing alone. No distractions. No excuses. No reprieve. You want it with nobody to blame and nowhere to hide.
Carter nods slowly, the kind of nod that feels like a contract being signed.
HBCarter: I love that version of this story. Because that version ends the same way, just cleaner. That version ends with you having nothing to point at but the scoreboard and your own damn hands.
He steps in even closer, so close the camera catches the texture of his gear, the edge of the strap, the shine of the plates.
HBCarter: You can call me names. You can spit on lenses. You can do the whole haunted crow routine and pretend it makes you inevitable.
He raises the title slightly, pressing it to his chest like it’s an oath.
HBCarter: Meanwhile, I’ll do what I’ve done every week since I got this championship. I show up. I fight. I carry this company on my back while you try to crawl up it with dirty nails.
His voice turns flat, dangerous.
HBCarter: So here’s my response, Alexander. You want it pure, you want it alone, you want it with no outs and no alibis. Good. Because when that bell rings, you’re going to learn the difference between a man who thinks he’s inevitable… and a champion who already is.
Carter’s stare doesn’t move.
HBCarter: You bring your birds. You bring your static. You bring your rage. I’ll bring my belt. And when it’s over, you won’t need to ask anyone if you deserved the spot. You’ll feel the answer in your bones.
He leans in for the final line, almost conversational, which somehow makes it worse.
HBCarter: Find me tonight, Raven. You wanted no excuses. I’ll make sure you don’t leave with any.
Carter steps out of frame, shoulder brushing past the camera as he goes, and for a second the shot holds on the empty hallway of the Selland Arena, humming with arena noise in the distance.
Jasmine St. John steps through the ropes to officiate.
Justin: Ladies and gentlemen, it is time for tonight’s MAIN EVENT! A non-title match scheduled for one fall!
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, waiting for his opponent to come out.
Simone: You can feel the intensity rolling off Liam Davis from here. He’s not here to make friends! He’s here to enforce consequences.
Lunam: Aye, and listen! If Liam wins tonight, he’s not just makin’ a statement. He’s gettin’ himself added to the Roulette Championship match at Blaze of Glory XV! That’s a golden ticket, so it is.
Simone: That stipulation changes everything. Liam isn’t just trying to beat the champion. He’s trying to force his way into the title picture.
Justin: And his opponent!
"Hope Castrated" by Cage Fight hits the speakers and as soon as the opening scream is heard Logan emerges from the back, Brooke and Marissa follow him out and the sisters have their backs to the crowd while they dance to the song, Brooke does some sensual dances while Marissa shows off dance skills while Logan glares at the ring.
Justin: From Sydney, Australia and representing the Go Gym, being accompanied by Brooke and Marissa Shields, LOGAN HUNTER!
As soon as Logan's name is called the twins spin around and the trio start making their way to the ring, Logan gets a running start before hopping on the apron and holding the middle rope down for Brooke as she enters the ring before he follows her in, Marissa follows them in on her own and they meet in the middle of the ring and while Logan remains standing broke drops to one knee and stretches her arms out with her head bowed while Marissa spins and arches her back, giving the crowd (and camera) a nice view of her cleavage before she flips her dark brown and looks at the camera.
Simone: Two-time Roulette Champion. That’s not an accident, that’s a pattern, and Logan Hunter lives for chaos, even when he claims he doesn’t need it.
Lunam: And he’s got Ryan Keys at Blaze of Glory XV, doesn’t he? That’s a massive one. But tonight he’s in with a lad who’d love nothin’ more than to crack him like a badge against a skull.
Simone: Liam is a pressure fighter. Logan is an opportunist. This is a matchup where one mistake becomes a landslide.
Jasmine St. John calls for the bell!
DING DING DING!
The moment the sound hits, Liam charges like he’s been released from a cage, stomping forward with a brawler’s stride and a lawman’s glare. Logan doesn’t back into a corner though, he leans in, jawing right back, shoulders rolling loose as if he’s about to start a sparring session instead of a main event. They meet center-ring and immediately hand-fight for control, each man trying to establish wrist dominance and head position, and for a second it looks almost technical until Logan swings first with a sharp forearm meant to turn Liam’s head.
It doesn’t.
Liam absorbs it, eyes narrowing, and answers with a forearm of his own that cracks like a gavel. Logan fires another, then another! Trying to brawl with the brawler, trying to out-muscle the powerhouse and the crowd rises at the audacity. Liam doesn’t flinch. He steps into the pocket, planting his boots, and begins returning blows in heavy, measured rhythm! Forearm, forearm, open-hand chop right across the chest, then a stiff right that snaps Logan’s head back and sends him stumbling a half-step!
Lunam: Ah here, that’s the worst idea Logan’s had all week! Tryin’ to trade leather with Liam Davis! That’s like headbuttin’ a lamp post!
Simone: Logan wanted to show he can out-tough him. The problem is Liam Davis doesn’t treat a fight like a moment, he treats it like a sentence!
Logan tries to reset with a quick kick to the thigh and another forearm, but Liam crowds him, shoving him back and hammering him with punches to the body and ribs until Logan’s posture folds just enough for Liam to hook him and drive him down with a backbreaker across the knee! Logan’s spine bows and his face twists! Liam holds him there for a beat, then shoves him off like he’s discarding evidence.
Logan rolls, clutching his lower back, and Liam pounces, dragging him up by the wrist and ducks behind him into a tight release German suplex that snaps Logan over and flings him across the mat! Logan skids, boots scrambling, trying to sit up, and Liam is already there again, stepping through with a punishing running bulldog that plants Logan face-first! Liam hooks the leg.
ONE!
TWO!
Logan kicks out, shoulder turning hard, eyes wide as if he didn’t expect to be put in danger that fast!
Simone: That’s Liam’s whole strategy. He doesn’t let you find your rhythm, he steals it. Logan got overwhelmed trying to brawl, and now he’s already chasing the match.
Lunam: Aye, and Liam’s not even breathin’ heavy yet. That’s the scary part—he’s just gettin’ warmed up.
Liam drags Logan up and clubs him in the back with a forearm before whipping him to the ropes. Logan rebounds and tries to create separation with a dropkick, but Liam swats it aside with his forearm and catches Logan’s ankle in the process, yanking him down. Liam drops an elbow into Logan’s sternum, then another, then a third, grinding him into the canvas and forcing the champion to cover up! Logan twists away, trying to get to the ropes, but Liam snatches him by the arm and wrenches him into a brief Fujiwara armbar attempt, sitting back, cranking the shoulder, testing how far the joint wants to go!
Logan claws forward, fingertips scraping the mat, and manages to hook the bottom rope with a boot.
Jasmine steps in immediately, voice sharp as she calls for the break. Liam releases at two, hands up as if to say I know the rules, but he leaves a final stomp near the shoulder on his way off, just subtle enough to claim it was momentum.
Simone: Jasmine St. John’s going to have her hands full. Liam rides that line, legal until the moment it isn’t.
Lunam: And Logan’s no choirboy either, Simone. But right now? He’s the one feelin’ the consequences.
Logan pulls himself up in the corner, shaking out his arm, trying to roll his shoulder back into place. Liam stalks in, looking to trap him, and Logan explodes, springing up with a sudden superkick that catches Liam flush on the jaw! The impact turns Liam’s head and stalls him for the first time, and Logan follows with a second kick, lower this time, a thud to the thigh, then a quick lariat that actually knocks Liam back a step! Logan takes a breath, seeing his opening, and rushes the ropes to build speed but Liam meets him mid-ring with a brutal spinebuster, driving him down so hard the mat seems to recoil! Liam doesn’t go for the pin. He wants damage!
He hauls Logan up into a front facelock, lifts, and drops him with a nasty brainbuster, Logan’s body bouncing on impact. Liam looms over him for a moment, then folds him into an STF, sitting deep, wrenching the neck back, keeping his weight heavy on the spine that’s already been targeted!
Logan’s hands reach out, fingers trembling as he tries to drag himself, inch by inch, toward the ropes. Brooke and Marissa slap the apron and shout encouragement, voices mixing with the crowd’s roar. Logan grimaces, then twists his hips, trying to roll Liam’s grip. Liam re-centers, tightening the hold, Logan’s face reddening as pressure builds!
Simone: That STF is cinched in tight! Liam’s making Logan carry his weight and his leverage! This is how you sap a champion!
Lunam: Logan’s legs are kickin’ like he’s swimmin’ upriver, but he’s got to find that rope, lad! Find it!
Logan finally drags his body far enough to hook the bottom rope with his fingertips. Jasmine steps in, counting on Liam!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
FOUR!
Liam releases at four, glaring at Jasmine as if the count is an inconvenience rather than a command. Logan coughs and rolls to the apron side, trying to breathe. That’s when Brooke hops onto the ring apron, arms out, calling Liam’s attention, her voice sharp and insistent as she points at Logan and yells something that clearly isn’t please be careful. Liam turns, eyes narrowing, and for a heartbeat his focus splits between the official, the champion, and the distraction!
Simone: Here we go. Brooke Shields inserting herself into the equation!
Lunam: Aye, she’s up there like she owns the place. Get down off the apron, will ya? Liam’s tryin’ to have a match, not a dance recital!
Jasmine steps toward Brooke, waving her down, and Liam gestures dismissively as if to say ‘I’ve got it’. But that fraction of time is all Logan needs. Logan springs up and snaps a quick springboard flying elbow, launching off the ropes with crisp elevation, and catches Liam across the chest. Liam staggers, and Logan follows with a belly-to-belly suplex, muscling Liam over and getting a rare surge of momentum as the crowd pops for the strength!
Logan hooks the leg!
ONE!
TWO!
Liam powers out, bench-pressing Logan off like a man tossing sandbags!
Logan rises fast, trying to stay ahead of the comeback, and charges, only for Liam to meet him with a short, violent headbutt that cracks Logan behind the eyes! Logan staggers sideways, and Liam takes him with a body slam, then another, each one punctuated with a grunt of effort and a deliberate pause, like Liam is choosing exactly how much pain to inflict!
Liam backs into the corner, eyes locked, and calls for something big. He drags Logan up onto the turnbuckles, climbing after him, and the crowd rises in anticipation as Liam hooks him for a superplex! Logan fights it, throwing short punches to the ribs and headbutting downward, desperate to avoid the landing. Liam absorbs it, repositions, and lifts anyway, but Logan shifts his weight at the last second, sliding down and shoving Liam off balance! Liam lands hard on the top rope, legs tangled, and Logan seizes it, jumping off of the top into a double foot stomp into Liam’s chest that knocks him backward off the corner and down to the mat!
Logan doesn’t stop. He climbs quickly, eyes scanning, then launches with a clean moonsault, turning in the air and crashing down across Liam’s torso! Logan covers!
ONE!
TWO!
Liam kicks out again, this time with a roar, and the sound alone rattles Logan’s confidence!
Simone: Logan’s throwing the full playbook at him now. That moonsault lands, and still Liam survives!
Lunam: Liam’s stubborn as a tax bill. Logan’s gonna have to do somethin’ nasty or somethin’ clever!
Logan thinks the same. He drags Liam up, hooks both arms, and tries to set for Hope Ends, the double underhook impaler DDT, but Liam blocks it by widening his base and driving Logan backward with sheer force. Liam breaks the hold, scoops Logan, and slams him down again, then pulls him into position with an almost clinical calm. He grabs Logan’s legs and steps through into a single leg Boston crab of his own, turning the tables, wrenching the champion’s lower back like he’s trying to fold him in half!
Logan cries out, fingertips scraping, and the twins pound the apron, shouting and pleading in tandem! Liam sits deeper, face set, and Jasmine drops to check on Logan’s condition, asking if he wants to submit! Logan shakes his head wildly, sweat flying, and claws toward the ropes again. Logan reaches … reaches …! And just as he’s about to get there, Liam releases! He yanks Logan up and drives him down with a second brainbuster, then looks to the ropes, building speed like a freight train!
That’s when Liam runs into the ropes and Brooke grabs his leg! Liam’s momentum halts, his body jerking backward as Brooke’s hand clamps around his ankle. Liam whips his head around, eyes blazing, and the crowd erupts in a wave of boos and shock. Jasmine points and shouts at Brooke to let go, but Brooke does the innocent shrug like she just happened to be standing there with a wrestler’s leg in her hands!
Simone: That’s blatant! Jasmine saw it! Everyone saw it!
Lunam: Ah, for the love of…! Brooke, you’re not slick! You’re about as subtle as a foghorn in a chapel!
Liam yanks his leg free and ducks out of the ring, stalking around the corner with murder in his eyes! Brooke backs up, hands up, and starts circling the ring as Liam follows, faster now, the chase pulling him away from the match and into the chaos! Jasmine leans over the ropes, shouting at both of them, warning Brooke, warning Liam, trying to keep control. Logan, seeing the opening, slides to the apron on the far side, watching the pursuit like a hunter waiting for prey to look away!
Liam turns the corner, still focused on Brooke … And Logan launches! Logan jumps over the ropes and crashes into him with a brutal flying collision, shoulder and forearm smashing Liam into the ringside area! Both men tumble, Liam hitting the floor with a thud, Logan scrambling up first and immediately grabbing Liam by the head to slam him face-first onto the edge of the apron!
Simone: Logan Hunter just weaponized Liam’s frustration!
Lunam: That’s what happens when you take your eyes off the match, lad! Logan’s a shark, and he’ll bite the second you bleed!
Jasmine begins the count as both men are outside.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
FOUR!
Logan rolls Liam back in at four, then slides in behind him, trying to steal a quick pin while Liam’s stunned.
ONE!
TWO!
Liam kicks out again, still alive, still fighting!
Logan snarls, frustration creeping in now, and he signals to Marissa, calling for something, tapping his waist where the Roulette title would sit! Jasmine is checking on a downed Liam for a moment, making sure he can continue, and Logan points harder, urgency in his gestures.
Logan: Marissa! Now!
Marissa steps forward with the Roulette title belt in hand … then stops. Her expression shifts. She looks at Logan, then at Jasmine, then at Liam, still blinking and shaking his head as he tries to rise, and Marissa hesitates like a person standing at the edge of a cliff. She grips the title tighter, then shakes her head, lips tightening as if she’s refusing an unspoken order.
Simone: Marissa’s not doing it. Whatever Logan’s calling for, she’s not throwing that belt!
Lunam: Fair play to her! That’s the line, isn’t it? You can chirp and you can pose, but if you’re not cheatin’, you’re not cheatin’. Logan’s askin’ for a shortcut, and she’s sayin’ no.
Logan’s face twists with disbelief, like the world has betrayed him, then he turns back into the ring just in time to see Liam rising with that dangerous, steady posture. Liam surges forward and doubles Hunter over with a boot to the midsection! Liam then scoops Logan up and drops him with a double underhook suplex, then immediately hauling him into a second, this one tighter and nastier, and the crowd explodes as Liam finally starts stringing offense together like a man who’s decided he’s done playing!
Liam covers!
ONE!
TWO!
Logan kicks out, barely, shoulder rolling up at the last possible moment!
Simone: Logan Hunter is surviving on instinct right now. Liam is pouring it on!
Lunam: He’s smellin’ it, Simone. Liam’s smellin’ the win and the ticket to that Roulette match at Blaze of Glory XV.
Liam pulls Logan up, hooks the arms, and tries to cinch for another submission, maybe the STF again, but Logan lashes out with a sudden headbutt, cracking Liam in the face. Liam stumbles, and Logan follows with a quick ripcord knee strike, yanking Liam into the knee with beautiful timing. Liam drops to one knee, shaking his head, and Logan tries to capitalize, running the ropes for a lariat. Liam explodes upward with a spine-jarring spinebuster attempt but Logan slips out, lands behind, and snaps Liam down into a triangle choke setup! Logan’s Faithbreaker! Logan locks his legs, pulls Liam’s head down, and squeezes, face contorted as he tries to force the tap!
Liam powers up, lifting Logan’s body with sheer strength and stumbling toward the corner, looking to drive him into the turnbuckles to break the hold. Logan clings tighter, forearms flexing, and the crowd roars, sensing the finish! Liam rams Logan into the corner two straight times! Logan’s grip loosens, and Liam finally pries free, shoving Logan down and stepping back like he’s lining up a final blow. Logan slumps to the mat, dazed, and Liam spots the Roulette title belt sitting near the corner from earlier, set down close to the timekeeper’s area when Marissa refused.
Liam grabs the belt and then turns toward Logan, belt in hand, the temptation and anger mixing in his face. Jasmine is arguing with Brooke at ringside now, Brooke gesturing wildly, trying to plead innocence, Jasmine warning her again, and the official’s attention is split just long enough to make the arena collectively inhale!
Lunam: Oh don’t do it, Liam. Don’t you cross that line, lad!
Simone: He’s thinking about it. He’s thinking, If Logan lives by shortcuts, maybe I’ll end him with one.
Liam raises the belt … But someone is holding it from the outside! Anthrax!
It’s like a nightmare crawled up from under the ring and took human form! Those eyes wide with manic glee, fingers curled around the leather from the floor. Liam freezes mid-motion, his entire body going rigid as if he’s staring at a ghost that learned how to grin.
Simone: NO. No, no, not Anthrax!
Lunam: Sweet sufferin’ saints… that madman’s here! Liam’s eyes! Look at him! He’s gone pale!
Liam yanks on the belt, trying to pull it free, but Anthrax holds on with a perverse calm, smiling like he’s savoring the moment. Liam leans over the ropes, shouting something, and in that heartbeat of distraction, Anthrax spits the green mist full in the face!
Simone: Oh NO!
Liam recoils instantly, dropping the belt, hands flying to his eyes as he staggers backward, blinded, coughing and stumbling like the world just turned to acid! The crowd erupts into chaos, boos, screams, shock, Jasmine whipping around too late!
Simone: He’s blinded! Anthrax just blinded Liam Davis!
Lunam: That’s poison, so it is! He’s spittin’ venom like a serpent! This is sick!
Liam staggers back, arms flailing, right into Logan’s grasp! Hope Ends! Logan drives Liam down with the Double Underhook Impaler DDT, spiking him clean into the mat in one brutal, decisive motion! Logan collapses over him, hooking the leg with everything he has left as Jasmine dives into position, forced to count despite the outrage!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
DING DING DING!
Justin: Here is your winner of the match! LOGAN HUNTER!
Logan rolls off, chest heaving, then pushes up to his knees with a grin that’s half relief and half cruelty. Brooke slides in immediately, clapping and throwing her arms around Logan’s shoulders like she’s celebrating a master plan. Marissa follows, expression complicated. She joins the celebration but without the same spark, like she knows what just happened wasn’t clean, wasn’t right, and wasn’t what she refused to do moments earlier.
At ringside, Liam is on hands and knees, rubbing his eyes, blinking rapidly, staggering as attendants rush in with towels and water, trying to flush out the mist. Jasmine kneels near him too, checking on him, anger written all over her face as she looks between Liam and the ramp side where Anthrax lurks.
Simone: This is not how anyone wanted this to end. Liam had Logan in trouble, real trouble, and Anthrax just rewrote the whole night with that damned reen mist!
Lunam: Aye, and here’s the quare part! At least Brooke didn’t interfere this time, yeah? She tried, but the finish? That was Anthrax. That was a whole other demon crawlin’ into the story.
Simone: Liam Davis was one win away from being added to the Roulette Championship match at Blaze of Glory XV! And now he’s left blind on the canvas while Logan Hunter celebrates like he earned it straight!
Logan stands tall in the center of the ring, raising his arms as Brooke and Marissa flank him, the three of them posing for the hard camera. Behind them, at the edge of the scene, Anthrax is visible, watching with manic glee, head tilted, eyes wild, savoring Liam’s suffering like it’s the sweetest dessert.
Lunam: Look at him! Look at Anthrax enjoyin’ it. That’s not rivalry, that’s sickness!
Simone: Logan’s celebrating, Liam’s being treated, and the most dangerous man in the building is smiling like he just got exactly what he wanted.
The camera catches one more shot, Logan in the ring with Brooke and Marissa, hands raised, the Roulette title held high like a crown, while ringside attendants continue working on Liam, guiding him toward the corner, towel pressed to his face as he swats helplessly at the air.
Lunam: Folks, we’re outta time, but we’ll be back next week! Bakersfield, California, at the Dignity Health Arena!
Simone: Goodnight everyone. Drive safe, and keep your eyes on Blaze of Glory XV because if Anthrax is inserting himself like this, nothing is going to be simple.
Lunam: Goodnight, lads and lasses!
Screen catches one more shot of the ring before fading 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!