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Static covers the screen as a Play ► symbol appears in the bottom right-hand corner.


In the pitch black of a room, we see a singular light turned on before us, revealing Zero. The former OSW World Champion sits, grimacing, deep in thought.

“There comes a time in a man’s life when he questions the decisions that he has made,” Zero muses. “And there’s no two ways about it, I done fucked up.”

He lowers his head shamefully.

But so did you.”

Zero slowly lifts his head, his eyes glaring at the camera.

“You have no idea quite how fuckin’ much,” he says, his glaring eyes accompanied by a smile. “I don’t give a shit about the OSW World Championship, Pyre. You can gloat about takin’ that from me but my rage ain’t about it.”

He shakes his head.

“Naw, my rage is deeper than that. By the time I’m finished, you’re gonna wish all I fuckin’ cared about was that title,” he growls. “At Heatwave, I don’t give a fuck if I win or lose, as long as you feel the pain I’ve felt at your betrayal.”

Suddenly, there’s footsteps coming from behind him. As the person approaches, Zero half glances over his shoulder into the darkness.

“I was wonderin’ when you’d show up,” he says sternly.

The light soon illuminates the face of Luke Storm, who smirks, standing beside him.

“You might like it hot, bitch,” Zero barks at the camera. “But I’m gonna bring the heat like you ain’t ever felt before in your life. We may no longer be THE Bad Mother Fuckers, but us,” he points at himself and Luke Storm. “We’re still bad mother fuckers.”


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Two Weeks Ago.

A low hum rumbles, overlaid with a repetitive beeping sound.




Laid out on a table is an unconscious The Generation Kid, a white sheet covering his naked body. An IV comes out from underneath it, hooked up to a a series of medical devices. Standing over the Kid is SeeSaw.

Well, not exactly.

He may share his facial structure and odd gait, but this creature standing above the kid is not Andrew Fish.

His brothers call him Doc.

For the moment, Doc is staring at a piece of paper looking dumbfounded.

“Doc!” A voice calls, coming from the doorway into this laboratory.

This time, it’s the real article.


Mr. Make Believe saunters over to Doc, looking confused at TGK.

“I thought you wanted me to grab the Kid so I could bring him to your ToyBox for a Play Date.”

Doc raises an eyebrow.

“This is my ToyBox, Fish.” He says, his voice a melted growl. “I call it The Office, and this where I do my work. But unlike you, it’s not butchery. I had you bring this young man here for a very specific reason.”

SeeSaw nods, waiting for a continuation.

He keeps waiting.

His foot begins tapping impatiently.

“Well?” SeeSaw finally asks. “What’s the deal?”

“You cannot fathom how long it took us to bring our brothers together. Our father was rather prolific, don’t you know?” Doc says, matter-of-factly. “In our observations of you in OSW, this one caught our eye.”

“Why” SeeSaw asks.

“Childlike personality. Focused on one thing, in his case a decade. Exceptionally capable in combat.” Doc begins. “We were only able to draw one conclusion from our observations.”

SeeSaw looks down at TGK, then back up at Doc.

“You mean…”

Doc nods.

“Yes, we believe it’s possible that The Generation Kid is one of us.”


“Another of D’Ville bastards.”


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Since his return, Chip Montana’s been grabbing the OSW locker room by the balls but could his undefeated streak end in the biggest of upsets to the debuting Pantyloon?

The bell sounds as Chip just stares at Underpants Man for a second, who’s running around the ring in a Superman Pose, his cape flying behind him. Montana visibly mouths out ‘What the fuck?‘ before  grabbing the Pantyloon and trying to throw a right that Underpants Man ducks under, before nearly taking Chip’s head off with a sloppy clothesline. Chip staggers up to his feet into a wild throwing of windmill punches that stagger Chip back but a sly poke to the eye staggers Underpants Man before Chip grips him around the throat, locking in the Cobra Clutch

The Pantyloon struggles under the hold as Chip can’t quite get it locked in fully on the 300+ pounder before Underpants Man staggers back, squashing Chip into the corner with his considerable bulk. UP backs his butt up over and over, finally breaking the hold as Chip remains dazed in the corner before a giant kick to the face drops him down to the canvas. Montana sits dazed and confused as the loon rushes forward before making Chip EAT HIS PANTS!

Chip may be concussed from that giant badonadonk but Underpants Man isn’t done as he backs that nasty butt down before giving Montana a DOOKY FACE! Chip screams and struggles underneath that disgusting unwashed ass before delivering a desperation low blow that finally drops the Pantyloon. Underpants Man staggers around, holding his groin before a hard Bulldog slams him to the mat and Chip rolls him up into an Alligator Clutch as the referee counts the one…two…three!!!

Chip Montana’s undefeated streak continues here tonight but from the look in Chip’s face and the state of it, this is one skidmark of a match he’s never going to wash out. 

[edgtf_highlight background_color=”#f9c703″ color=”#000000″]  WINNER: CHIP MONTANA  [/edgtf_highlight]

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We open inside Banzan’s locker room, Chronoa finally entering it and Banzan looking none too pleased by her presence.

“What do you want, Chronoa?”

Chronoa looks at her tablet, the very item that helps her keep track of the fate of all.

“You’re a curiosity, and I wish to understand you.” Chronoa says as she continues with her tablet.

“What do you mean?” Banzan retorts, frustrated.

“You were meant to die several times, but yet history keeps rewriting itself around you.”

Banzan shakes his head at this.

“I ask again, what do you mean?”

Chronoa looks up, the Harbinger looks at the Mountain with both confusion and curiosity.

“When the monster hunter, Bishop, came for you the fates showed you dying. Yet, here you stand.”

Banzan looks annoyed at hearing his name, yet again.

“Nothing is not so set in stone that a rushing river can not erode it.”

The Harbinger of Fate nods, fully understanding what the metaphor means.

“When Tenchu turned against you, you were again meant to die. But yet here you stand, again, and he is the one who has perished.” Chronoa looks back to her tablet as she reads off the history of the Mountain Monk.

“Get to the point.” Banzan fires back, getting tired of the lectures. “I know my history, I don’t need it repeated.”

“Why? What makes you so special, that the Fates themselves alter reality to allow you to live?”

Banzan looks on at Chronoa, and then looks at her tablet.

“Maybe it’s not the Fates that are changing their whims, but your tablet that is incorrect? Or perhaps the Fates don’t truly know when a man should end, but present multiple paths until the truth becomes reality?”

“Or maybe there is something special about you, something that even the Fates can’t control.”

With that, Chronoa walks out of the room with a renewed vigour in her quest to understand the Tiger Monk.


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The camera pans over to a door, and on that door is a sign that says Jet Set Radio. Inside,  it’s relatively calm and quiet – a rarity for this locker room. But in the centre of the room, sat on a chair and framed by the bright light above him, sits Tag.

Tag is quieter than usual, but his silence is broken by something that you could barely call a knock at the door, and in pokes the head of a somewhat familiar face.

It’s Starboy.

“What are you doing here?” Tag asks, his voice a little on the sombre side.

“Well, Starboy heard you’re feeling down, and Starboy didn’t like that. They felt like they needed to come and talk to you.”

Tag looks up at Starboy, who continues.

“Starboy knows what it’s like. Starboy and The Rainbow Party have been there, done that, and got the assless chaps to prove it.”

“It’s just the looks they gave me. The sneers they wore on their faces.”

Starboy puts a hand on Tag’s shoulder.

“Listen, Tag. People like you and Starboy are always going to stand out. That’s what we do. We aren’t afraid to show who we are, and sometimes people don’t like that. Sometimes it scares people who don’t know how to be honest. And Vayikra are as dishonest to themselves as they are violent to others.”

Tag sighs.

“Maybe you’re right,” he starts. “But I can’t just think about me. I have to think about all of Jet Set Radio.”

Starboy sits next to Tag, occupying an empty chair.

“Starboy doesn’t want to tell you how to feel, Tag. They’ve had enough of other people doing that on their behalf to last a lifetime. But just think of it like this…”

Starboy doesn’t see Ether and Wiz enter the room quietly.

“Sometimes it feels like being invisible is the best thing to do. Keep yourself to yourself. But that makes you lonely, and sometimes loneliness is just as bad as the pain you get from being yourself. Don’t let Vayikra make you disappear.”

He looks up and sees the rest of Jet Set Radio, and stands, moving towards the exit.

“Stay visible Tag, it’s your best weapon.”

He leaves, and as he does Ether puts her hands on her hips and Wiz rolls his eyes. But Tag has a thoughtful look in his eyes.


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Can these two clusterfuck teams work together tonight, or will this match devolve into absolute chaos?

Corvus and Ether tie up, side headlock by Corvus then Ether backs up into the ropes and whips him to the opposite side of the ring. On the rebound Corvus receives a vicious club to his upper back, and he arches his back in pain as he steps right into a a roller skate— ETHER STRIKE!

But it was Deathnote that tagged himself into match moments earlier, who now jumps off the top rope right at Ether— KISS OF DEATH! That double stomp took Ether by surprise, knocking the wind out of her, and she slowly rolls to her corner until within reach of Chronoa for her to tag herself in.

Chronoa swiftly springboards off the ropes at Deathnote… BURNING FLIGHT— FOREARM MISSES!! Deathnote runs the ropes and jumps over the flattened Chronoa on the rebound, and then right back… INTO A SPINNING BACK ELBOW— NO! Deathnote ducks it and hits the ropes again— TWISTED SMILE!! SPINNING HEEL KICK FLATTENS DEATHNOTE!!

A portal opens up next to Deathnote and a hand slaps him in the face, and then another portal opens up behind Chronoa— PLANESWALKER!!! DROPKICK SENDS CHRONOA FLYING INTO HER CORNER!!! Sigil has tagged in, but now so has SeeSaw, who lifts Sigil up onto his shoulders in a torture rack— HE SPINS AROUND AND AROUND—

COSMIC LEAP!! Sigil has disappeared, and another portal opens above SeeSaw who looks up and knowingly cackles just before getting absolutely flattened by a double stomp— PLANESTOMPER, AND A PINFALL BY SIGIL FOR THE WIN!!!

Despite being at each other’s throats The Collector, The Crow, and Death’s Son manage to pull a victory out of their asses!

[edgtf_highlight background_color=”#f9c703″ color=”#000000″]  WINNERS: SIGIL, DEATHNOTE & CORVUS  [/edgtf_highlight]

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With that trios match over, something strange starts happening. Smoke begins filtering into the arena as Deathnote, Sigil and Corvus are getting back to their feet.

Just then, Reapers appear from behind the curtain, trundling down the rampway in number.

Corvus backs into one corner.

Sigil backs into another.

The Reapers surround the ring, ensuring their exits are blocked.

“My father has ordered your deaths,” Deathnote announces, stood in the middle of the ring. “And I’m the one he’s sent to cut the red tape and get it done. I’m sure you understand what I mean, don’t you Corvus?”

He gulps.

As The Reapers begin entering the ring, Sigil suddenly portals, stepping through it to abandon Corvus and leave him with the enemy.

Deathnote laughs.

“Well, I suppose one is better than none, isn’t it?” He says with a chuckle. “Sic’ him, boys.”

As The Reapers pour into the ring, Corvus tries to fight them off, landing right and left hands as they approach him.


Suddenly, the lights go off.

Pitch Black surrounds up.

And when the lights come back on…

Corvus is gone.

Deathnote frantically surveys the ringside area, completely confused as to how Corvus was able to escape.


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Friends and Foes alike will have to work together tonight in a brutal tag team contest. Can Impaler weave magic persuasion into the fallen Vampire or will they fall to Simon and his former associate Wiz?

The bell sounds as The Impaler rushes forward, nailing Wiz with a brutal Adam Smasher that turns the Pelican inside out. Simon tries to retaliate but gets stopped by a flurry of lefts and rights from Kaine before a sharp headbutt staggers the Taskmaster into the corner. Wiz slowly staggers up, right into a goozle to the throat before he’s also powered into the corner. Both Kaine and Impaler beat Simon and Wiz down in their respective corners before gripping them by the wrists and throwing them across the ring.

Wiz and Simon grab eachother mid-run though, swinging around as they change opponents and rush forward. COSMO PLANE! CATALAN OPENING! Running Knees to Kaine while a beautiful knee nearly knocks Impaler out cold as Simon pulls the dazed Impaler out of the corner, nailing him with the SimonPlex! Bridging over for the cover, the referee drops down for the one…two…Impaler just gets the shoulder up. Simon pulls Impaler up, kicking him in the gut before double underhooking him but the Impaler fights out, staggering Simon back right into the ropes, crotching Wiz on the top rope.

Kaine manages to get to his feet, throwing Wiz off the top rope before lifting him up to his feet, BLOODY STRE…NO! Wiz ducks underneath the Northern Lariat, nailing the Tapdance Funk before drilling Knightlord into the canvas with a brutal Boom Boom DDT. The Purple Pelican turns around right into a running kick to the gut before he’s lifted up high, NIGHT CITY BLACKOUT TO THE OUTSIDE!

Impaler turns, just dodging a Catalan Opening knee before nearly turning Simon inside out with the Adam Smasher. Legion calls for the end as he peels Simon up, hoisting him up high in the air, NIGHT CITY BLACKOUT! That brutal Powerbomb nearly drives Simon through the mat as the Impaler hooks both legs for the cover and the one…two…three!!!

The Impaler gets the victory for his tag team here but could this be the beginning of a beautiful friendship between him and Kaine or just a blip in a bloody rivalry?

[edgtf_highlight background_color=”#f9c703″ color=”#000000″]  WINNERS: THE IMPALER & KAINE KNIGHTLORD  [/edgtf_highlight]

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The match has come to a close, but Kaine Knightlord is paying no mind to what’s transpired.

Instead, his eyes are fixed on only one thing.

One person.

The Impaler.

Whatever damage was done to Knightlord during the course of the match is subsided, and now his mind is focused on one task.

To feed.

Kaine lunges at Legion, who manages to narrowly escape the Shadow Bat’s clutches before hightailing it out of the ring and up toward the entrance area…except what’s on the other side is not the backstage we’re familiar with.

It’s somewhere else entirely.

And waiting for him is Chronoa.

“What did you see, Legion?”

Legion ponders for just a moment before responding.

“I saw the eyes of a man in need of food…of sustenance.”

Chronoa nods in acknowledgement.

“Whatever he has become, Kaine Knightlord is starving for power…and he can sense the abundance of it within you. That’s why I’m charging you with the task of dealing with him.”

Legion looks taken aback by this, as he stares down the Harbinger of Fate.

“You what!?”

This is met with a cold glare right back at him by Chronoa.

“This is but a warmup of things to come, I need to learn more about his power…and how capable you are of overcoming it.”

Eventually, The Impaler settles down with a nod of acknowledgement.

“I understand. This situation will be dealt with.”

Chronoa smiles at this response, pleased to hear the compliance of her weapon.

“Good. We will see just how hungry this HellBat is.”


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A brutal poison barb delivered by his former love, Zero has his sights set on the one who broke his heart but he first has to survive the Wrath of Yahweh itself. Can Zero survive the odds once more or will the Templars three be too much for him?

The bell sounds as Zero rushes forward, BOOT PROCESS to Gable. A second to Renault. Bellator ducks underneath the third but it was a feint setup for the 32 GB OF RAM! Shining Wizard to the back of the head of Sir Bellator and that may well be it as Zero drops down for the cover and the one…BOTH TEMPLAR’S BREAK IT UP! Renault and Gable pull Zero up to his feet, Zero fighting back with a headbutt to Renault but Gable ducks underneath a right before delivering a German Suplex that dumps Zero right on his head.

Gable and Renault begin kicking the crap out of Zero as Bellator slowly gets up to his feet before joining the wolves in beating down the defenceless Zero. The Templars pull Zero up to his feet, Gable throwing him almost sideways with another German right into a double superkick sandwich from Bellator and Renault. Zero might well be out cold as Bellator covers for the one….two…thre…ZERO GOT THE SHOULDER UP!

Bellator and Renault pull Zero up, peppering him with kicks to the chest, capping it off with a sadistic Burnt Offering roundhouse from Bellator before Renault lifts him up high in the air with the Splash Mountain, holding him high as Bellator climbs up to the top rope. SOUL CLEAN….NO! Zero slips out the back of Renault as Bellator flies over, landing hard ribs first on the ropes. Renault turns around, PUNK CITY KILLER! Gable tries to rush him but gets another Boot Process before the PUNK CITY KILLER nearly knocks him out cold.

Zero looks to cover but Bellator stops him with a hand on his boot, slowly trying to rise but a kick to the jaw stops him before Zero tries for another Punk City. Bellator slips out, delivering a hard superkick to the jaw before gripping Zero around the throat. The Impertio is blocked by elbows to the jaw though as Zero slips out before delivering an almighty PUNK CITY KILLER! All of Vayikra are down as Zero covers Bellator for the one…two…three!!!

The Bad Mamajama picks up the huge victory here, showing the tenacity and skills that made him the man as he outwits and outplays Vayikra here tonight. 

[edgtf_highlight background_color=”#f9c703″ color=”#000000″]  WINNER: ZERO [/edgtf_highlight]

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One Week Ago.

“Time has run out.” 


“We can’t hold him back any longer.”

Dim light.



With a start, The Generation Kid opens his eyes. He sits straight up on the flat metal slab he was placed on by SeeSaw and his brother Doc. He rips the IV out of his arm, and begins looking around for clothes.

His eyes lock in on a small table to the side.

“Your clothes… give them to me now.” TGK says, quoting Arnold.

Neatly folded on the table are TGK’s clothes. Along with his skateboard.

As soon as he’s dressed, a voice echoes throughout Doc’s Office.

“Good morning, my friend.” The gravelly voice of Doc begins. “I never got your name.”

“The Generation Kid.” TGK answers, a frown on his face as he looks around for an exit. “I don’t recall making a doctor’s appointment.”

“Your real name.” Doc answers. “I’m curious as to who you are.

TGK raises an eyebrow.

“That is my name. The only one that matters anyway. And I know who I am.”

Seeing a door, TGK heads for it.

“You are free to leave, John Doe.” Doc says, his form revealed to be stood in an alcove above the main Office floor. SeeSaw is stood beside him. “But my evaluation of you is not complete. I’ll need you in here for a follow up.”

TGK rolls his eyes as he walks out the door.

In the alcove, Doc turns to SeeSaw, a clipboard in his hand.

“See, no ill effects from being sedated for over a week.” The brother states.

“And?” SeeSaw says, still confused.

“You’ll get your Play Date, Fish.” Doc continues. “I just want you to contemplate one more thing about this Generation Kid.”

Doc draws a vial of red liquid out of his lab coat.


“Here, you know the taste of blood.” He hands him the vial. “Have a taste.”

SeeSaw dips a finger in, and licks in clean like a child with Cheetos.

And spits it clear across the room. Doc frowns at the mess, but ignores it for the moment. SeeSaw looks disgusted.

“That’s not blood.”

Doc nods, a smile forming.

“Precisely. I don’t know if TGK was created by our dear Father, but one thing is for sure:”

They look towards the door the Kid left through, determination on their face.

“TGK is not human.”


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Earlier this Afternoon

“No, mate… It’s an expression.”

Chip Montana sits backstage at a table beside Dave the Rabbit. Two takeaway smoothie cups sit in front of them as he ‘chats’ with the rabbit.

“They’re not literal balls… well, you know. Not usually.”

Chip chortles in laughter at his own joke, while Dave simply sniffs the air.

“Nawww, come on. That was a good one. Anyway, you haven’t even touched your mango rush.”

Chip looks intently at the rabbit, who blinks back at him, whiskers twitching.

“I bloody knew you were going to say that, Davey. Cost me an arm and a leg that did, we’re sticking with carrot juice next time boyo.”

Their little tea party is interrupted by the arrival of another figure. One that seems to stumble upon their little table, but instantly glowers at the pair upon sight. Starboy greets the pair warmly.

“What the fuck are you doing with that furry little prick, limpdick? I thought I was clear enough, the rabbit has to go.”

Dave twitches at this, moving towards Starboy, who instinctively backs away and crashing into a cabinet behind him, back first.

The impact sets a marble slowly rolling across the top surface of the cabinet, which sets off a series of other marbles and assorted balls rolling in different directions. This culminates with a bowling ball set in motion, falling from the roof and landing on Starboy’s head, knocking him out cold. He drops like a sack of bricks.

Chip Montana leaps to his feet.

OH SHIT DAVEY BOY! I knew we shouldn’t have left all that up there.”

He looks down over the groaning figure of Starboy, and the bowling ball that now rolls about Chip’s feet.

“I guess I really am grabbing nature by the balls. And now we’re even Starboy.”

He turns to Dave.

“Leave the smoothie matey, you’re not drinking it anyway. Let’s get the hell outta here.”

People rush into frame to check on Starboy, who seems somewhat worse for wear after what just happened. Is he okay? It doesn’t look like it.


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As a result of the power play of new commissioner Simon Black, Luke Storm faces the entirety of the Rainbow Party in this 2-on-1 Handicap Match!

We start things off with Storm and TGK, exchanging handshakes in a gesture of sportsmanship before they lock up, Storm clearly with the size advantage between them as he drops TGK with a headlock takedown, but the Kid is quickly back to his his feet before Storm can follow up!

TGK dodges a clotheslines attempt from the former World Champion, sending him to the opposite corner with a dropkick before tagging in Vigour! The size advantage now swings in favor of the Prince of Party, who unleashes a flood of offense on Storm capped with a standing shooting star press!

QUICK THRILL! Luke wisely manages to roll out of the ring after that, but Vigour keeps the pressure up on the barometer as he tags in Starboy, the Kid joining them as the trio leap over the top rope onto Storm with a triple dive! All four men are down!

Storm and Starboy are eventually back on their feet, rolling into the ring to continue…before Starboy goes for the Sling Blade! GANGBANGARANG! Starboy looks weary as Vigour gets the tag in for an assist! VIM AND VIGOUR! Storm is rocked by that Lumbar Check and the cover! ONE! TWO! THREE!

Luke Storm fought hard given the circumstances, but was unable to overcome the Rainbow Party tonight!

[edgtf_highlight background_color=”#f9c703″ color=”#000000″]  WINNER: THE RAINBOW PARTY  [/edgtf_highlight]

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The Blackharts.

In what has become a luxury locker room turned office, Commissioner Simon Black sits in a charge chair behind an oak desk. With a smile on his face, he watches as Pyre paces back and forth before him.

“Pamela, my dear, you must relax,” he pleads with her softly.

She shakes her head.

“We need to soften up Luke Storm and Zero before Heatwave, Simon. I know these two men better than anyone and if we’re not careful, they’ll surprise us.”

Simon stands up and walks around the desk, placing his arms around her shoulders.

“I made a call on your behalf,” he says with a smile. “Zero won’t be a problem at Heatwave, okay?”

Pyre looks at him quizzically.

“Look, I promised to love and protect you and that’s exactly what I’m going to do. Zero isn’t an issue – I’ve resolved it. However, Luke Storm is a different kettle of fish.”

“I need to talk with him, don’t I?” Pyre admits. Simon nods in agreement. “I’ve assumed he’d want revenge for breaking up bMf, but he didn’t show up at Scars & Stripes.”

Black chuckles.

“Precisely,” he agrees. “Luke Storm is an unknown variable. Whilst I’m certain he’ll despise your decision to marry yours truly, there’s no saying how he truly feels about Zero. He may not be supportive, but he may not be as disappointed as we might think.”

“I’ll find out,” Pyre announces.


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Tonight, Pyre is offering Tag a once in a lifetime opportunity: a shot at the OSW World Championship. Will the champ expand on her reign of terror, or can Tag make the most of this opportunity?

The ref holds the new OSW World Championship up for the crowd to see and signals for the bell.


The champion and challenger circle each other in the ring before tying up, collar and elbow. Tag pushes forward and corners Pyre against the turnbuckles, putting his superior strength on display. The ref counts up to five as Pyre puts her arms up as if to make it a point that she isn’t pushing back. Tag is forced to let up and takes a step back from the champ.

The two share a brief exchange of words before Pyre steps towards Tag—


Pyre lands flat on her back, but Mr. Money Shot keeps on her like a bulldog, transitioning into an armlock that grounds the Fire Bitch! Tag twists at her shoulder and Pyre slaps the mat in frustration— clearly she wasn’t bargaining for this type of onslaught.

Pyre spins around and rolls forward to break the hold, but Tag uses her momentum against her and flops her belly-first onto the mat! He tucks her arm back behind her and uses his arms to wrench back on Pyre’s face—



Pyre scoots herself around and kicks her leg out straight just off from the ropes but they’re out of reach! Tag wrenches her neck back and Pyre yelps out in pain!

Pyre scoots one last time to the ropes…


The ref forces Tag to break the hold and allows Pyre to catch her breath after the onslaught from Tag to open this match!

This championship opportunity from Pyre may be a favor, but Tag is making it clear that he isn’t taking it for granted tonight.

Tag waits as Pyre cracks her neck and gets to her feet, looking more focused now. They circle one another again, the atmosphere between them a bit different from the last time…

Tie up. This time Pyre transitions into a side headlock. Tag clutches Pure around the midsection and counters—





Tag bounds off the ropes and back at Pyre—



It’s a stalemate, and after taking a moment they lock horns again…


Pyre is bent over and Tag wallops her over the scapulas again and again for good measure—


Tag turns to the crowd, never one to miss out on a chance to show off.


Tag bounces off the ropes and leapfrogs the bent-over Pyre—



Tag logrolls Pyre into a cover—





Tag stomps Pyre’s lower back and motions around his waist like he’s showing off a title belt! He then points to the ropes, and as Pyre slowly gets on all fours, Sexy Dynamite hops onto the second rope and springboards off back into another—




Pyre is in pain but wastes no time, she has some ground to make up on, and she climbs to the top rope…



Tag rolled out of the way and Pyre landed hard on her already-softened back! Pyre clutches in pain again as Tag runs the ropes and launches himself at her—



Tag with the cover—






Mr. Money Shot stays on the offensive, driving his knees into Pyre’s lower back again and again before shoving his knee into the spine and twisting as Pyre shrieks in agony!

Tag is simply on fire tonight. He can taste the championship gold, and all that twisting gives him a gnarly idea.

Tag yanks Pyre up and tucks her head between his arm and his midsection. He mimes a twisting motion with his hand, then hoists Pyre up into a stalling vertical suplex…




Tag frantically hooks a leg—










Tag frustratedly bickers with the ref and holds three fingers up in his face as the ref holds two fingers up in response. Pyre meanwhile is grasping her neck in pain— she might have scoliosis at this point after all the damage to her spinal column.

Tag kips up and mimes spray-painting Pyre’s back and stuffing her in a body bag.

He pulls Pyre up to her knees and shoves her head between his legs.

Tag is going for the power bomb lungblower—

He lifts Pyre up onto his shoulders…


Tag has to release his grip on her and she tumbles forward over the top of Tag with momentum—








This allows Pyre a moment to regroup, pulling herself up in the corner while Tag rubs those sore eyes. Pyre takes a few steps forward and whistles to get his focus. Tag, who may be seeing double, blindly rushes towards Pyre’s voice in desperation—




Pyre pulled the ref in the way at the last second and he took the full load in the face. He’s down, and Pyre looks to take advantage of the situation…



Tag crumples to his knees as the crowd boos, and Pyre sprints to the ropes, flying knee-first at her opponent from behind on the rebound—



Pyre waves towards the ramp and yells Simon’s name, and surely enough another ref comes sprinting down the ramp into the ring as Pyre hooks a leg—







The ref holds up two fingers at Pyre—




Without any regard for consequence because her husband is the commissioner, Pyre dumps the second ref out of the ring and shakes the first ref back to consciousness. The Fire Bitch barks at him to get his shit together as she prepares for her next move.

Pyre moves to the corner and climbs up to the top turnbuckle, stalking Tag as he slowly rises to his feet…



This must be it… but Pyre doesn’t cover.

The Fire Witch rolls Tag onto his stomach and yanks his head back by his dyed-pink hair—




The deck was stacked against Tag, and Pyre shows just how dangerous she can be alongside Simon in her new power position!

[edgtf_highlight background_color=”#f9c703″ color=”#000000″]  WINNER AND STILL OSW WORLD CHAMPION: PYRE  [/edgtf_highlight]

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The Prince of Party walks the streets of New York by himself, neither of his rainbow colored comrades at his side. He ponders the run-in with Zeldor, mulling over the situation himself when the sounds of motorcycles fill the air.

The Iron Order.

A fleet of modified motorcycles come roaring through the streets! They number in the tens of twenties, Vigour forced to dodge to the left and the right, narrowly avoiding the monochrome militia as the bikes surround him, circling up until Vigour has absolutely zero place to go! He puts his fists up, ready to fight until his last breath until one man dismounts his iron horse, calling his men to do the same.

Rezin Deckard.

“You’re an easy man to find, Vigour. I was expecting a bit more of a hunt, but if the prey is lookin’ to walk the highway then who am I to complain?” He speaks condescendingly, walking towards the Jack of All Senses, chuckling lightly. Vigour doesn’t look impressed, merely squaring up to the Iron Henchman.

“I’m not trying to hide, man. But if you’re looking for me then I guess that means that Goro wants to talk, right? Or is he just trying to keep me quiet?” Vigour walks forward, his chest bumping into Rezin’s, getting nose to nose with the Man of Mayhem, refusing to back down! Rezin shakes his head, smirking as he looks Vigour in the eye, not the least bit intimidated by Vigour’s seemingly unshakeable resolve.

“Oh, he wants to see you… But it ain’t about whatever bullshit you were tryna spew back at his building. You’ll get your meeting, bud, it just won’t be on your terms.”


“Bag this fucker and I’ll bring him to Goro.” Rezin spoke with authority, his gang tying Vigour up and planting him on the back of Rezin’s bike, the President getting onto his motorcycle, tearing off through the night, his gang quick to follow behind him.

Just what does Goro want with Vigour?


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Cold open.

Solomon Rhodes.

The Templar stands in the middle of the ring, surrounded by a steel cage, awaiting his opponent.

It’s time.

“Where are you, coward?” Rhodes barks into the microphone angrily. “Come and face me like a man.”



The fans murmur amongst themselves, wondering why Lux Bellator hasn’t shown up.

Just then, he meekly steps out through the tunnel and onto the entrance ramp with a microphone.

I-I can’t,” he stammers. “And you know that, don’t you? You know why I’ll never step foot inside a cage ever again.”

Solomon laughs to himself.


From behind, Sir Gable and Sir Renault run through Lux Bellator, knocking him down with forearms to the back. They stomp away at him as Rhodes laughs before pulling him back to his feet and dragging him, literally kicking and screaming, towards the steel cage.

They bundle him inside, forcing him to his knees and holding him there as Rhodes stands over him.

“I didn’t think you’d forget, old friend,” Rhodes muses with a sneer. “But I rescued you from a cage with Lucifer, didn’t I? I saved your soul and rose you from perdition. I dragged you from hell and at Ring of Dreams, look at how you repaid me.”

Lux shakes his head.

“You don’t get it, do you Solomon?” He asks. “I’m trying to-“


Rhodes punches him clean in the jaw, stopping him in his tracks.

“I don’t want to hear your feeble excuses. You started the apocalypse. You brought about the end of the world and Yahweh’s destruction. Our Lord and Savior, who you claimed to represent, is dead because of what you did!!”

Solomon hits him again.



He’s enraged.

He suddenly walks away, grabbing something from within his tights. It’s a lighter. Rhodes heads to the cage and puts the lighter against it, sending a rush of fire across the entirety of the steel cage.

Lux Bellator immediately panics, scrambling, crying, trying to escape.

“I’m going to give you once chance to leave Old School Wrestling, Lux,” Rhodes demands. “Because if you don’t, I will kill you.”

Renault and Gable toss him onto his belly on the canvas, watching as he goes into the fetal position – utterly terrified by the flaming cage. Vayikra and Rhodes exit the flaming steel cage, watching as Bellator cries on the canvas.


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