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

The home of Luke Storm.

Imagine being a father. Having a child is a like blood sworn oath. You swear to protect them, to nurture them, to make sure there is food in their bellies and clothes on their back.

Some people struggle with such a commitment.

Others would give their life to uphold it.

So when you see Luke Storm sat in his living room, watching as Edward Newton lets himself in the front door – it can only be imagined how he feels.

It gets worse when the person he swore to protect runs towards her once captor with a giant hug.

He scoops her up into his arms, squeezing tightly.

Storm stands, his eyes fiercely burrowed into the skull of The Riddler. Even Edward knows to put her down before he pushes his luck.

“Uncle Eddy, you came!” Scarlett shouts excitedly. “I’ve missed you soooo much,” she beams with joy.

“I’ve missed you too, scar,” he says, kneeling to run a hand through her hair.

“Don’t call her that,” Storm growls.

“Daddy!” She pleads. “You promised you’d be nice.”

Edward peers up over his glasses at Luke.

“Yeah daddy, be nice,” he cockily and smarmily concurs.

“When will I get to spend some time with you?” Scarlett asks, holding him by the face. “I had so much fun playing that game with you and the scary clown man.”

Edward smiles.

“Well sweetie, soon, actually,” he announces much to the surprise of The Storm King. Scarlett’s eyes open wide with joy. “That’s right. Just after Ring of Dreams, your daddy has to go away.”

That surprises everyone, including Storm.

“He won’t be coming back for a long long time,” Newton says sinisterly, soon to capture the ire of his enemy. “But never fear, Uncle Eddy will take you back to Enigma Towers and keep you safe.”

Scarlett turns to her father, emotionally confused.

“Is that true, daddy?” She asks.

Luke pulls her close, away from Newton.

“He’s joking,” Storm says convincingly. “How about you go to your room, so we can discuss a sleepover.”

She nods, giving her daddy a peck on the cheek. She buoyantly bounces over to Edward Newton, giving him the same before heading out of sight to her bedroom.

She’s barely out of sight before Luke grabs Edward by the throat, slamming him backwards into the wall.

“Do you think that’s funny, huh?” He says, squeezing hard.

“A little bit, yes,” Newton replies with a big smile, despite being choked. “But your reaction makes it all the more worthwhile.”

The Storm King lets him go, pacing away with his hands on his hips.

“That’s better. Let’s be less hostile, shall we?” Newton asks as he rubs his throat better. “It isn’t my fault your daughter thinks I’m a peach.”

“She’s been begging me to see you for weeks. She doesn’t understand what you or SeeSaw did to her, Edward. This isn’t a game. This is her life. This is my life. I want you out of them both.”

The Riddler chuckles, shrugging his shoulders.

“That’s never going to happen,” he announces loudly, walking towards the door. “At Ring of Dreams, I’m going to take the OSW Championship from Sigil, just like you wanted; then I’m going to dangle that bastard over your face like a carrot on a stick, then beat you with the stick.”

He opens the front door and stands there for a moment.

“I told you that I’m going to take everything from you, didn’t I?” He asks. “Your title, your sanity, your life perhaps – but the one thing I didn’t think to take, is the one thing you simply cannot lose.”

“Don’t you fucking say it,” Storm bellows.

He chuckles, walking away.

“You stay away from her, Newton!”

He keeps walking.

“Stay the fuck away!”



Tonight we have a bout between a man who just wants to watch the world smile and a man who just wants to watch the world burn! It’s Sandy Rogers versus the Plague Rat!

Sandy Rogers sticks his hand out for a handshake! Wrong move, Old Man! Plague Rat slaps the SPIT out of Sandy’s mouth! Good God, another slap across the face from TPR! Plague Rat grabs Mr. Rogers by the arm and whips him into the ropes! Rogers returns, DELIRIUM! POP UP CLOTHESLINE!

Rogers writhes on the ground after the huge impact. The Plague Rat has a sick smile spread across his face. He grabs Sandy and brings him up to his feet! He starts to whip Sandy into the turnbuckles, BUT SANDY HAS JOHNATHAN ON HIS HAND! FEELING BLUE! THE MANDIBLE CLAW!!!

The Plague Rat giggles, flailing his arms about, doing everything he can to escape. Finally, he KICKS Sandy right between the legs! That breaks the hold, by God! He scoops Sandy up and lifts him high into the air! FEVER!!! THE BRAINBUSTER SIT DOWN SUPLEX!!! JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!!!

The Plague Rat makes the cover!!! ONE!!! TWO!!! THR–NO!!! Sandy kicks out just in time. Plague Rat laughs and brings Rogers back to his feet. He shoves Rogers’ head between his legs! Lifts Sandy up to the CRUCIFIX POWERBOMB POSITION!!! BUT SANDY ROGERS SLITHERS AWAY!!! He drops to his feet, he spins The Plague Rat around, kicks him in the gut! QUICKSAND!!! THE STUNNER!!! ROGERS MAKES THE COVER!!! ONE!!! TWO!!! THREEEEEEE!!!

Sandy Rogers picks up the big win over The Plague Rat here tonight!


The match over, Sandy Rogers seems ready to leave the ringside area, but someone comes marching down the aisle. The Slaughterhouse faithful pop as Jessie Williams slides into the ring opposite Rogers, who greets him with a smile.

“What a pleasant surprise, Jessie.” He begins, but gets cut off by the younger man.

“I’ve been looking all over the damn place for you.” Jessie begins. “I’m tired of these dreams, of the monster that won’t get out of my head. If he wants to fight me in my dreams, then I’m going to kick his ass there.”

Rogers smiles at that.

“So you’re ready to learn from me?” He queries.

Jessie nods.

“Then it’s time for your first teachable moment.” Rogers continues. “I’m sure you’ve seen my show, but this is a basic lesson.”

Williams rolls his eyes, but waits for Sandy to give it.

“My puppets tell it much better than I ever could, but my lesson is on patience. If you wish to fight the evil that haunts you, you mustn’t give it power. It grows stronger the more you fear it, the more you fear what it did to you and those you love.”

Jessie raises an eyebrow at that comment, yet nodding as if in understanding.

“I don’t fear the Sandman.” Jessie says, his eyebrow raised confidently as he pops the crowd.

Sandy Rogers places a finger to Williams lip as if to shush him.

“But you do, my dear boy.” He looks deep in Jessie’s eyes. “You fear him with both your sleeping and waking eyes. You cannot hide the truth within your eyes.”

Jessie looks away, rolling his eyes again.

“Next week.” Sandy says. “We’ll have your next lesson. There is much to prepare for.”

Rogers leaves Jessie alone in the ring to await Mefisto for his match.


It’s MEFISTO, an illusionist up against THE CHOSEN ONE’S SON, Jessie Williams!

Williams paced in circles around him, as if to respect his opponent’s submission prowess. They lock up anyhow, Williams immediately taking control with a side headlock, he’s really wrenching away! MEFISTO SNEAKS A FOOT BEHIND AND ESCAPES! BELLY TO BACK SUPLEX! Both men crash into the center canvas, Mefisto not even bothering with a pin, he locks in an arm bar! Williams is aching!

Williams overpowers his much lighter opponent and manages to get the rope, instigating a referee break up! Williams instigates another tie-up, this time Mefisto attempting a wrist lock before getting piledriven into the ground with a STIFF SHORT ARM CLOTHESLINE! Williams has ALL the momentum after that! He ascends the top rope! CALL OF THE CHOSEN! SWANTON BOMB FLATTENS MEFISTO! ONE! TWO! NO!

The Prince politics with the referee for a late two count, The Illusionist sneaks a school-boy roll-up but he does not telegraph that he is really looking for a head and arm triangle! Mefisto has it locked in but Williams is fighting him off! He musters up enough strength to lift Mefisto in the air! Fans in roar! Williams appears to be looking for some sort of powerbomb variant to get him out of this lock! HURRICANARANA! MEFISTO ROLLS! ONE! TWO! THREE! NOOO!


The Prince Jesse Williams snatches victory tonight.



Nothing surrounds, not a tumbleweed. That is except for Reaper, who finds himself in the midst of the nothingness, perplexed and looking as though he is not here by choice. It doesn’t take him too long to figure out what forces brought him here, as he calls out into the wind.

“If you want that axe back, you’re not going the right way about it.”


Shining light as The Judge appears a few feet away from Reaper. Reaper brings his hand up to shield his face from the light but barely bats an eyelid.

“Let’s skip to the part where you tell me why the hell you brought me here.”

The Judge steps forward, under the watchful and untrusting eye of his foe.

“What I am about to say cannot fall on ears that should not be hearing it. Your actions should not have gone undetected by the Observatory. I’ve attempted to investigate why, and I have reached two conclusions thus far.”

Reaper’s eyes narrow. He hardly looks impressed, his knuckles cracking as he squeezes them into a fist.

“And they are?”

Judge states without emotion, very matter-of-factly.

“One… That the Observatory may have some major fundamental errors. Secondly, the death of your family may have been a mistake in the grand plan.”

Judge pauses, letting the information sink in. Then, he follows up.

“Which is where you come in. I am formally requesting your assistance. I need to investigate this further and you are clearly a key in the pl-…”

The Judge’s sentence is stopped suddenly as Reaper leaps forward… SHOTGUN BLAST DROPS THE JUDGE!

Reaper stands over his floored foe.

“You’re telling me that my family may not have needed to die, like it’s a fucking accounting error? And you want me to fucking help you?”

He kicks The Judge with the point of his boot in the ribs.

“Jesus H. Fucking Christ! Here, let me help you by crushing your damned skull, you son of a bitch!”

The Judge backs away on the ground, kicking Reaper off him as he pounces, long enough to stand to his feet. Reaper approaches again, looking for another haymaker, but in a flash of light both men disappear before the shot can connect.

The Judge lives another day, but his plans to investigate the failures of the Observatory have screeched to a halt. Not only that, but Reaper is now hell bent on revenge to the one being he deems responsible for his family’s death. The Judge himself.



The Plague Rat is wandering around the halls looking for something. He seems to be sniffing.

“Where is it?”

“Whatever War Machine and that new chick were smoking; it must be some good shit if it knocked out those camo fucks. I need to find it or them.”

He starts opening any door he can find. Nothing in most, a few people in others, nothing he is interested in. He tries to open one, but it is locked. He starts banging on the door.

“I know someone is in there, I hear you, I smell you. Let me in.”

The door swings open hard, it knocks The Plague Rat off his feet. Malice is standing over him.

“What do you want?”

“Do you have the stuff?”

“The stuff?”

“You know, the smoke?”

The Plague Rat pinches his fingers close to his lips, makes a smoking motion.

“Oh… come on in.”

The Plague Rat walks in around Malice, but Malice shoves him in.

“You want that smoke?”

Major Thom and Bishop are in the room. Thom opens a drawer.

“Here you go.”

Thom tosses something to the Plague Rat. He catches it. It’s a smoke bomb!

“There’s the smoke.”

The Plague Rat rolls his eyes.

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

All three members of War Machine stand around him. Bishop speaks.

“We know, when I fought overseas, it made me sick knowing I was defending the rights of people like you. Smoke this, smoke that. If there is one thing I learned over there, it’s that where there’s smoke, there’s fire.”

Bishop snaps his finger. Both Malice and Major Thom bicycle kick The Plague Rat on each side. He is out cold! Bishop pulls out a match, strikes it, and tosses it on the carpet right next to The Plague Rat!

“Where he’s going, he’ll get plenty of smoke.”



Tonight, we have a match between Sweet Alice and The Reaper! Will she be feeling like it’s Wonderland or will she be brought back to reality? We find out next!

DING! DING! The Reaper charges at Sweet Alice with a clothesline! She does a quick split to dodge it! He rushes past her and she does a quick schoolgirl roll up! ONE! TWO! THR-NO! He kicks out! She will have to do much more to put The Reaper away!

He’s trying to get back up but she rushes him with a basement dropkick right to the knees the moment he gets on his feet! She hops on him real quick! THE TEA PARTY! She has the Camel Clutch locked in tight! Is The Reaper going to tap?! No! He starts to stand up with her on his back!

She’s trying to hold on but he throws Alice over his shoulders! What a hard landing! Before she can get up, He does a jumping knee drop to the back of her skull! She looks out of it but he is not done! He rips her off the mat and hoists Alice on his shoulders! He falls back with a devastating Samoan Drop! JUSTICE BROUGHT!

He lays on her for the cover! ONE! TWO! THR-NO! She counters into a crucifix pin! ONE! TWO! THR-NO! He gets the shoulder up! She starts stomping away on him! Once she’s satisfied, Alice grabs her book! He’s getting up! She rushes him! WELCOME TO WONDERLAND! She levels him with the book! She pulls him up! She hits the X factor! DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE! She covers! ONE! TWO! THREE!

Sweet Alice is victorious in her first match over a very game Reaper!


The Day After Tomorrow

Gouldern Island.

A private island, discrete, paradisaical, lavish.

A property with several bungelows and a central campus, with all of the Telegon Bells and Whistles, including a helicopter parked on top.

Mark Gouldern, in a beach chair that tracks every single one of his vitals, basks in the sun, reading an article on his state of the art tablet.

To either side of his chair, he is fanned by stationary, robotic servants built for the purpose of fanning him.

Mark looks at his watch, presses a button.

Another robotic Servant wheels up. “Yes, Mr. Gouldern?”

“Bring me a sha–”

Before he can finish his sentence, sirens begin blaring through the compound.

Mark rolls his eyes so hard you can tell he did so behind his sunglasses. He stands to his feet, puts his hands on his hips.

“Is this your special project we’re all to be on alert about?” Asks the Servant.

“Who else would it be? Just, get to the chopper!” Gouldern replies. The robot Servant would frown if it could. But, when the Servant was in Development, Gouldern saw no reason the robot should frown. That expression was unnecessary to its function.

“Yes, Mr. Gouldern. Right this way.”

Gouldern follows the Servant down a stairwell and to an escape tunnel.

Yes, Gouldern has an escape tunnel. He’s Mark fucking Gouldern.

He runs deep into the tunnel, leaving the Servant behind him. Nothing ahead but several miles of tunnel ahead.

Except he sees a figure in the distance.



Over his shoulder? A rocket launcher.

Gouldern stops, clears his throat, and turns back the way he came.

But the Servant waits on the other side. It closes the door. Turns the lock.

Gouldern frowns.



Two unlikely pairings meet in the center of the ring, both teams arguing to see who starts – neither of which have a ton of experience teaming together. The bell rings and Storm crashes in upon Red Death, a series of kick boxing combos in which Death leaps a low sweep and drops Storm with a crushing lariat.

Death looks to continue the onslaught, he’s looking for the KILLING JOKE! Storm doesn’t budge! BACK BODY DROP! Storm’s in motion! JUMPING ENZIGURI! ONE! TWO! NO! Storm tags Gouldern, who immediately MOONSAULTS! ONE! TWO! NO! Shark breaks up the pinfall! All four men in the ring! BLOODY MARY TO GOULDERN! Shark’s Shining Wizard nearly takes Gouldern’s head off!

Shark in full motion, Storm telegraphs a huge superkick! WOOF! HE MISSED! BULLDOG TO STORM! BULLDOG TO A BARELY STIRRING GOULDERN! ONE! TWO! NO! Only the two legal combatants in the ring now, Shark looking for a HURRICANARANA ON GOULDERN! GOULDERN REVERSE! SITOUT FACEBUSTER! Both legal men are GASSED! Their partners desperately stretching for a tag! It’s a snail race! IT’S A TIE! BOTH PARTNERS COME RUSHING IN!


Our feature film has a happy ending for the movie star after all!


Backstage, Alton Whitlock stares in the mirror.

These days, he hasn’t been sleeping well.

Dark rings encircle his eyes. The face that stares back at him, he barely recognizes.

Before the scars, before Imperium, before BEG, before OSW: he was someone else.

A different person. More innocent. More naive. More idealistic.

But now, this battle-scarred, bruised, broken, oh-so-tired man that’s reflected back at him?

In a way, Alton finds him frightening.

In a different way, Alton finds him disgusting.

But none of that really matters. No.

How could he forget?

There was only ever really one thing that mattered.

Not his career.

Not his legacy.

The people he serves.

And he can’t betray them. Not now. Not ever.

He can’t compromise his ideals to a man like Berkshire Ellison Green.

Not now. Not ever.

Alton secures a red tie around his white collared shirt. He slips a dark suit jacket on, fixes his hair.

Then his gaze once again finds his own tired eyes in the mirror.

There’s fear in them.

Tears well up. He sobs.

“Great men are born for great moments,” he says aloud, trying to steel himself. His voice is quieter than a whisper, but loud with anguish. “You may not be a great man. But you’ve been granted a moment. And you’ve already done the hard thing: you’ve noticed the moment before it passes, before the point of no return…”

He turns around to take a seat upon a black folding chair that sits near a table, then picks up several sheets of paper and begins reviewing his notes.

“All you have to do now is seize it.”



After the show.

The sounds of foot steps through the darkened streets of New York. However, except for that singular noise, it is silent. As though something has brought hush over the city. Slowly, the owner of the footsteps is revealed as they walk out of an alleyway.

Gabriel Drake.

He seems wary, as though he’s unnerved by the silence of the city, not quite scared, but the expression he wears shows a sense of paranoia about him.

And as the camera slowly pans around the area, revealing the city, it centers on his face in a close up, and his eyes go wide.


We see as Gabriel leaps back from his spot, narrowly avoiding a shadow that leaps from its hiding place, coming from above him. A man’s fist has crumbled part of a nearby wall, its claw-like pose digging into the brick as Drake looks over to it, cornered by his assailant.


The monk’s face is a terrifying combination of calm yet ever so determined. His other hand is held at Drake’s throat, the vampire’s own impressive strength keeping it from closing in. He glares up at Banzan, snaring, his fangs glinting in the moonlight.


Banzan speaks quietly, Drake’s grip tightening around the monk’s wrist, knowing full well if he lets go his death would be at hand.

“What are you speaking of? Was the beast Kazaku an acquaintance of yours?”

“You know who I speak of, creature. Aesop.”

Drake remains stone faced as Banzan speaks.

“I can assure you, I know nothing of your former friend. He was no beast, I had no reason to attack him.”

“You did it to feast!”

Banzan lashes out with a powerful strike from his free hand, a brick in his palm as he tries to bash Gabriel! The hunter narrowly avoids the blow and slips from Banzan’s grasp, fleeing backwards out of the alleyway. The Mountain, however, does not let up and unleashes a barrage of claw-like strikes onto Drake!

While the vampire is able to avoid or block most of the onslaught, one catches his side and the fingers pierce his skin! He freezes as Banzan tightens his grip, pulling Drake in close.

“And now, I have come into the darkness so that I may end you.”

Drake snarls once more as he replies.

“You have no proof it was me, Banzan.”

“There are puncture wounds on his neck.”

“And there are more creatures of the night than me.”

Those words stick in Banzan’s head as he loses focus, realizing that Drake is right. He loosens his grip and the Lord of Darkness backs away.

“Look into that well of yours, Banzan. Tell me if I am truly the one who took Aesop’s life.”

Banzan looks down at the blood on his hands, and as he looks up Drake is gone, leaving Banzan to consider if he has the right man.



Legacy have made a huge impact over the last few weeks but War Machine are hot on their tail, fury in their eyes from the loss of their tag team titles. Will War Machine get a measure of revenge or will Legacy once again come out on top?

The bell sounds as Sanctus and Bishop enter for their respective teams. Sanctus motions for a lockup that Bishop seems to lean into to before faking out Bellator with a stiff kick to the gut before nearly taking his head off with a stiff clothesline. Sanctus staggers up to his feet into a stiff headbutt before he’s Biel Tossed into the War Machine corner as Bishop tags out to Malice.

Sanctus tries to fight back as Malice gets into the ring but a stiff knee to the jaw rocks Bellator before a huge T-Bone Suplex sends him flying. Sanctus slowly gets to his feet just as Malice rushes forward, LARIAT FROM…DROP TOE HOLD! Sanctus drops Malice throat first on the bottom rope before diving towards his corner as he manages to tag in Tank!

The Olympian rushes into the ring, dropping Malice with a massive right hand before grabbing him from behind, KERSH POWER! A huge Full Nelson Slam drops Malice hard to the mat as Kersh backs up, waiting for Malice to slowly get to his feet before rushing forward and nearly cutting Malice in half with TANKED!

Malice crumples to the mat as Tank is pumped up, not noticing Major Thom tagging himself in behind as Kersh turns around, SABOTAGE! The Bicycle Kick hits flush but as he goes for the cover, TERRA TREMUIT! DEADEYE! The Double Footstomp knocks Major Thom down but Sanctus gets cut in half by a spear from Bishop as both men tumble to the floor. Tank stumbles to his feet right into a blind tag from Jay, who cockily walks into the ring, picking Major Thom up onto his shoulders with a cocky smile..LARIAT FROM HELL! Malice decks Jay out of nowhere as Thom rolls back into a crucifix pin. ONE…TWO…THREE!!!

War Machine steal a victory out of nowhere here, Jay Jeckel’s cocky nature costing Legacy here tonight.


In the middle of the Toybox, SeeSaw appears to be putting the finishing touches on a couple of bunkbeds.

The rotten corpses turned toys sit ominously just out of frame in the background, blurred just enough that we can’t see the detail of the rotten flesh in which they’ve became.


SeeSaw looks around curiously.


“What is that?” He queries, walking towards the noise.


He puts his ear to the wooden wall of the Toybox, listening intently.


Two hands suddenly smash through it, grabbing him by the throat. He struggles but is soon tossed backwards.

The hands begin violently tearing through the wooden wall, followed by giant feet, stomping pieces of it away.

It’s Mez!

Mez slams through the giant gap he’s now created, cornering SeeSaw – who by all accounts spins to his feet rather quickly, smiling.

“Brother!” He yells excitedly. “You received my invitation? I’m so glad you came!”

The psychotic monster tilts his head, an audible sneer echoing throughout his mask.

“I’m not here for a sleepover,” his loud voice booms. “I’m here to kill you, little brother.”


“Now just hold on a dang minute, mister,” SeeSaw says with his hands on his hips. “That’s no gosh darn way for a guest to behave. Daddy said you wanted to fight me but I told him I wouldn’t. No way.”

Mez lunges forward, grabbing him by the throat with both hands. He squeezes, pushing SeeSaw down onto the floor. The Monster topples down with him, grasping tightly.

He’s choking the life out of him.

“Enough!” A voice growls from behind.

It’s Doctor D’Ville.

Reluctantly, Mez lets go, getting back to his feet.

“I told you, didn’t I son?” D’Ville asks, walking over to check on SeeSaw who’s gasping for air. “He won’t stop until you give him the fight he wants.”

“I-I don’t want to fight,” Mr. Make Believe pleads.

“My whole life could’ve been avoided,” Mez warns angrily. “If I had the upbringing you had, it could’ve turned out differently for me. The past may be the past but the future is mine when I destroy you.”

“Yes,” D’Ville says proudly. “He understands, Andrew. There can only be one,” he says leaning in closer, whispering to SeeSaw. “I’m rooting for you.”

D’Ville stands up, walking back over to Mez with a wry smile.

“Michael will be back here, in your precious Toybox at Ring of Dreams. We both know what happens when someone enters here for an uninterrupted fight,” Doc says with a smile. “Don’t let us down, Andrew.”

“No!” SeeSaw yells, getting back to his feet. “I won’t do it. I won’t do it and you can’t make me!”

D’Ville chuckles to himself, shaking his head.

“I can’t,” he says with a shrug. “But Michael can.”



Forget the Oval Office – a twenty-feet steel cage surrounds the ring!

Alton can’t believe his eyes. He reaches out to touch his old friend. “I watched you die, X!”. The upgraded Lethal Weapon coldly responds “I am Revenant!” – EXECUTION! HOLY SHIT, JUST LIKE THAT! The bionic double axe handle drops Whitlock… but Revenant isn’t done. He hauls him up and RAKES HIS FACE AGAINST THE CAGE!

HE’S USING THAT STEEL MESH LIKE A CHEESE GRATER! The Politician’s old scar is reopened – like the grief for his comrade. Revenant goes to slam his head into the wire, but Alton grips the metal and resists! He elbows him in the gut, then clangs his metallic skull off the cage!

Whitlock ducks a second EXECUTION and doubles Revenant over… PARTY POLITICS overdrive neckbreaker! Alton shakes his head and scales the cage – but Revenant sits up! He rattles the cage furiously, but Alton hangs on. Revenant climbs up after him. Alton goes to drop to the floor, but his former friend grips his hand.

SLUGFEST ATOP THE STEEL CAGE! Blood flows down Alton’s face and onto Revenant’s white mask. Who will fall!? Whitlock grabs Revenant’s hood and pounds his blank face into the steel perimeter! Revenant barely even registers the hit. He turns around, CLOBBERING ALTON WHITLOCK WITH A PUNCH THAT DROPS HIM OFF THE CAGE AND TO THE FLOOR BELOW! WHITLOCK WINS! THE MONSTER MACHINE GETS HIS REVENGE, BUT WHITLOCK WINS!

This is one race The Candidate never wanted to win, but Revenant punished him none the less.


Mefisto is walking the halls of The Slaughterhouse when he feels the ground falling out from under him! He is falling! He lands in a grassy meadow where a rabbit is hopping looking frantic!

“I’m late! I’m late! I’m late for a very important date!”

Mefisto looks confused but follows the rabbit. He seems to be only one who knows where he is going.

“Where am I?”

Mefisto walks into a strange, warped kitchen.

“What is this place?”

“Funny, that was the first thing I said here too.”

It’s Sweet Alice!

“Don’t be scared, I wanted to thank you for saving me last week. I brought you here where what I’m about to give you might make sense.”

She pulls out two vials. One is red and the other orange. She points to the red one.

“This one makes you larger. The other makes you small. You look like you can defend yourself but against all of War Machine, I want someone who can defend the rest of us as well. The caterpillar told me we must grab flags to win Sweet Dreams. If there are three of them and we are all focused on protecting ourselves, one of them is bound to win. I will give you the vials if you ensure you will protect me again.”

Mefisto nods and grabs the vials.

“Now, how do I get out of here?”

“The way you came of course.”

Mefisto rushes back to the hole and climbs out of Wonderland.



The Red Death stalks through the backstage area of the Slaughterhouse, purpose in his steps. What that purpose was we may never know, though.

The floor drops out from under him, plunging him into darkness.


After what feels like falling forever, the Red Death falls into a sewer deep below the Slaughterhouse. He stands his feet, water up to his knees, as he surveys his surroundings. Rickety red lights illuminate this sewer tunnel, and there seems to be no escape.


Death’s lips purse as the unmistakable voice of the Blood Red Shark echoes all around him.

“Come out and play.” Death taunts. “I’ll end you again.”


He thrashes too and fro, trying to escape the water and draw breath, but by the time he does, he is winded.

As the Blood Red Shark rises above him.

“No, Bill Kirby.” Shark begins. “You won’t be ending anything today. You’re in my world now.”

Death begins to stand, but Shark is there instantly to wrap his gloved hand around his neck.

“Your thirst for vengeance is impressive.” Shark comments. “Death shaped both of our lives, turned us into heroes. But our true nature bled through, didn’t it?”

He releases Kirby into the water, lording over him.

“That mask you wear, it’s blinded you to the truth.” Shark offers. “It’s turned you into this beast, but it didn’t have to.”

Death stays down this time, glaring at the Shark.

“Fuck off.” He uncharacteristically offers. “You did this to yourself. I was a victim. My family were victims.”

Shark nods.

“Your allies made you believe that, didn’t they? They allowed you to believe your family was dead. But I know the truth. I found it on a trip to Miami. They control you through the power that Sarah and Jason held over you.”

Death explodes out of the water, pushing Shark into the brick wall.

“Don’t you ever say their names, you son of a bitch!” He roars. “I will…”

Then Shark breaks the Red Death’s world with a whisper.

“They’re alive.”

The words take a moment to sink in as Bill Kirby seems to come to life from within the Red Death for the first time in a long time.


But the Blood Red Shark is gone.

What the fuck is going on?


It’s playtime between three playmates!

Junkrat leaps on SeeSaw right out of the gate. He bashes his head into the mat again and again, punctuated with profanities. Sigil pulls him away, but he goes right back to him! The Collector intervenes again, only for Junkrat to pull SeeSaw into THE STEEL TRAP STF! Will SeeSaw tap out!?

Sigil is MERCIFUL to Junkrat’s vengeance! The chop to the neck fells the pyromaniac. Junkrat may think—or hope—that it’s all over, but it’s a LONG ROAD AHEAD! Sigil snaps him in half with the backbreaker and elbows him in the face for good measure. SeeSaw pops up behind Sigil, spinning his imaginary lasso—

WOODY’S ROUNDUP! The back of Sigil’s head splats against the canvas. ONE… TWO… Junkrat breaks it up! Oh boy, here we go… THE CONCUSSION MINE tilt-a-whirl DDT! Junkrat isn’t letting SeeSaw off that easy, though. He climbs to the top rope… RIP-TIRE 450 SPLASH – INTO THE MAT! SeeSaw was playing possum!

ONE… TWO… Sigil drags SeeSaw off! He unloads with blows FOR THE COLLECTION, ending with a spinning backfist! He backs up… COSMIC LEAP! Sigil teleports behind SeeSaw – but he was ready for him! “I like to play peekaboo, too!” SUPERFINE TURBINE BLAST gore-spinebuster! ONE… TWO… TH—Junkrat breaks it up! He pulls SeeSaw up – TEETER TOTTER out of nowhere! ONE… TWO… THREE!

Mr. Make Believe lives his fantasy!


Berkshire Ellison Green is reclined on an expensive leather couch, drinking whiskey worth more than most people’s homes straight from the bottle.


A tablet that sits next to him blinks to life. He picks it up.


“What the fuck?” BEG blurts out to no one. “I didn’t tell that piece of shit to do anything yet.”

He brings up Whitlock’s livestream. Alton sits directly in front of the camera.

“I’m here tonight to talk about America,” the politician begins. “Land of the free. Home of the brave. An idealized vision proven wrong by recent events. But one that lives in all of our hearts.”

Whitlock takes a deep breath, then continues.

“The hour is now to open your eyes, my fellow Americans. Around us stands an invisible cage of oppression. It’s meant to confine us. It’s meant to make us conform to the will of corrupt leaders and sinister corporations.”

BEG leans forward, holding the tablet with both hands.

“This complex system of power and unjust authority has always been against us, but now it has become too arrogant to even attempt to hide it. The system seeks to entrap us. Ensnare us. Make us its subjects.”

With every word, Alton’s voice gets stronger.

“What do you do when you find yourself being coerced and intimidated by shadowy figures that believe it’s their right to rule you? To force you to do what they say, or else?”

“What do you do when the only choices are to fight or watch that very American dream you used to believe in die?”

BEG’s hands begin to shake; the tablet wobbles in his sweaty, drunken grip.

“You rise. You revolt. You go to war.”

“Because to free ourselves? To live up to that American dream? We must turn the tools of those who seek to control us against them.”

“We must take the power back.”

“We must bring ruin to this shameful empire.”

“We must overthrow those who seek to control us.”

For a single millisecond, something like a smirk crosses Alton Whitlock’s lips.

Then it is replaced, not by fear, not by trepidation–but by pure and righteous hellfire sparking in his dark-ringed and sleepless eyes.

“We must destroy this system of oppression…”

“By any means necessary.”

“Until those who want so desperately to control us can only beg for mercy.”

“And the American dream is restored again.”

“In solidarity, I am Alton Whitlock. Thank you.”

The livestream ends, but all BEG can do is sit shocked and speechless.

He’s trembling.



Mere weeks away from his return to the world title picture, Edward Newton is riding on cloud nine but a simple Hunter may drag him back down to earth. Will the Riddler make Drake another victim or can Gabriel do what what no man has done before and make Edward Newton tap out?

The bell sounds as both men circle the ring, neither man making the first move as their eyes focus in on one another, waiting for the slightest opening. After a minute or so of posturing, they both rush forward, Drake ducking under a right hand from Newton before delivering a stiff uppercut that jacks the Riddler’s jaw. Newton staggers back into a hard kick to the side of the head before he’s thrown into the corner and driven down into the mat with a hard flurry of lefts and rights, capped off with a stiff knee to the jaw that leaves Newton groggy on the canvas.

Drake pounds down on the dazed Newton for a moment before backing up


Newton staggers to his feet right into a huge clothesline as Drake sends him tumbling over the ropes to the floor below. Newton slowly gets to his feet, trying to regain his composure as Drake quickly slides out behind him, rushing forward


Newton was playing possum as he drops Drake face first onto the nearby steel steps, Gabriel stunned and in pain as a small trickle of blood pools down his forehead. He stumbles up into a stiff right hand


Gabriel grits his teeth in pain as he writhes in agony on the floor but he’s barely allowed a moment to breath before the Riddler pulls him up roughly and throws him back into the ring. Drake tries to sit up but Newton delivers a stiff kick to the spine that sends waves of pain down Gabriel’s back before he drops down, wrapping his legs around Drake’s midsection with a rib cracking bodyscissors.

The referee leans down, asking Drake if he wants to quit but the Hunter just grunts in displeasure, refusing to give in so easily but the Riddler has the hold locked in tight as he slowly saps away every bit of Gabriel’s breath. Newton squeezes tighter, the pain becoming worse for the Hunter but Gabriel manages t0 crawl slowly towards the ropes, Newton resisting him at every second but Drake just grabs the ropes, forcing Newton to break the hold.

The Riddler does so reluctantly, delivering another spine shattering kick as he gets to his feet before he pulls Gabriel up himself, stunning him with a huge knee to the ribs before he’s lifted up onto Newton’s shoulders.


Gabriel just avoids the Death Valley Driver, getting just that little bit of breathing room with the neckbreaker as he tries to stand, but his damaged ribs make it hard to breath. Sucking in as much air as he possibly can, Drake pulls Newton up to his feet, delivering a stiff headbutt before grabbing him by the throat.


Newton avoids the Chokeslam with an expertly timed shot to the retina before driving Drake back down to the canvas with another Snap Suplex. Newton quickly pulls him to his feet, throwing Drake across the ring before ducking down for a back body drop that Gabriel counters with a hard kick to the face.


The Chokeslam hits it’s mark but that took it’s toll on Gabriel’s ribs as he’s not able to follow up immediately. Wincing in pain, he pulls Newton up to his feet


That took whatever air Gabriel had left in his lungs right out of him as he doubles over in pain, the Riddler hoisting Gabriel up onto his shoulders before planting him with an emphatic Death Valley Driver

ENGIMA THEOREM! Newton barely lets Gabriel fall to the mat before spinning him around and locking in


Gabriel is locked into the Liontamer in the middle of the ring, Newton’s knee perched on the back of his neck as tremendous pain vibrates through his body. Gabriel refuses to tap out but he’s trapped and slowly losing strength as he begins to fade away from the agony, the referee counting him out.



THRE….GABRIEL’S SPRINGS BACK TO LIFE! He turns himself down as Newton is forced to transition into a Boston Crab as he slowly pulls himself to the ropes once more, Newton trying to drag The Hunter back into the middle of the ropes but he’s foiled as Gabriel forces himself forward with all his strength, breaking the submission once more!

Newton is frustrated, almost livid as he delivers a stiff kick to the side of Gabriel’s skull before rolling out of the ring and grabbing a thick steel chair from ringside. He rolls back in, waiting for Drake to slowly rise to his feet as he looks to finish the job

HEAD SHO…Gabriel ducks under as Newton just avoids ricocheting the chair off the ropes into his own skull. Newton slows himself for a moment, turning around right into

THE LORD’S SHADOW! The hard swipe of the cape sends the chair flying into Newton’s face, stunning the Riddler as Gabriel pounces.

Wrapping his legs around Newton’s midsection, he bares his fangs, but as he tries to bring down the FANGS OF DRAKE, we hear a dull metallic thunk as Drake stumbles backwards in pain holding his jaw. Newton simply smiles, pulling down his shirt to reveal a thick steel guard protecting his neck. Newton shakes his head before picking up the chair and nearly taking Gabriel’s head off with a huge shot to the skull.

Drake goes down hard but Newton’s not done as he drives the chair down over and over onto Gabriel’s back, shot after shot to the targeted ribs and spine until the chair is a twisted and mangled mess, just like the Lord of Darkness. Newton tosses the chair away before once again locking in the RIDDLE BOX!

Gabriel tries to fight out but he’s been damn near broken in half as all he can do is give in to the pain as he taps out!

Edward Newton picks up yet another victory, showcasing his unbeatable genius and unstoppable form as he makes Gabriel Drake yet another victim


On the Kersh Family Ranch in Texas, Brent Kersh sits on his large porch with a beer in hand. He’s relaxing after a good honest hard day’s work.

He looks out over the cornfield with a wry smile.

Suddenly, The Cryptkeeper appears.

But Kersh doesn’t even stand.

“I’ve been expecting you,” The Enforcer says, taking a swig of his beer.

“Then I’m glad I’ve not disappointed,” The Cryptkeeper says wearily, walking up the steps of the porch.

Only Kersh has a shotgun pointed right at him.

He just couldn’t see it.

“I think that’s about close enough, don’t you?” Brent says, standing up to raise the gun to the head of Viridi. “Now, I hear you’re an immortal son of a bitch, but this here is a Shotgun and whilst it may only blow your head off, it’ll more than sting a bit.”

Just then, out from inside the house walks Mike Lane.

That’s how Kersh knew to expect him.

“I see you two have allied,” Cryptkeeper mumbles. “But perhaps that isn’t the worst of ideas. I need you two to know that the future holds great loss for your respective families. Both Michaela and Tank are in grave danger.”

Lane grimaces.

“You’ve said that,” he groans. “But you didn’t tell us why or how.”

“I can’t,” he admits. “The future is a fickle beast and one must be weary of how they impact upon what is known.”

“Listen, our kids aren’t stepping foot in OSW,” Kersh says loudly and proudly. “We’ll make sure of that. You don’t have to tell us to keep them away, we already know to.”

Lane nods in agreement.

“I hope you’re right,” Cryptkeeper says, backing away slowly. “Because should they interfere where they are not wanted, it will cost them their lives.”

Mike and Brent look at each other.

When they look back for the Cryptkeeper, he’s gone.

“What are you thinking?” Lane asks, taking a seat and grabbing a beer from the cooler.

“I’m thinking we’d better do whatever it takes to make sure our kids stay far away from that place,” Kersh says, sitting as well.