Pandemonium XI
The 11th Pandemonium of its kind, hosting one of the biggest matches in Old School Wrestling history; Lambs to the Slaughter. Last year, CJ Thorpe won it and went on to become OSW World Champion. Who wins it this year?
Hounds of Hades
Click.
Static covers the screen as a Play ► symbol appears in the bottom right-hand corner.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Pandemonium!
MATT RUBY: What's this?
The screen is divided, split cleanly down the middle.
On the left: A darkened war room in the House of Sovereigns, lit by cold flickering lights and the ever-ominous presence of Ares.
On the right: The battered yet hopeful command center inside Deathrow, where Jackson Cade stands with quiet resolve.
Left Side: The Pantheon
Ares stands tall at the head of a long obsidian table, surrounded by the most dangerous soldiers in Arcadia—Anton Savor, Narcissa, Eclipse, Ezekiel Graves, Gravedigger, Grimskull, Drewitt, Jasper Redgrave, Klaus Way, Mister Sunshine, and Nox.
His voice cuts like steel.
“Tonight is not about glory. It’s not about pride. It’s an audition.” He glares at each of them in turn, his tone devoid of warmth. “Five of you will represent the Preservationists at Hounds of Hades. Five of you will enter a match the likes of which Arcadia has never seen.”
He steps forward, eyes burning.
“Only the strongest. The coldest. The ones with no mercy will be chosen," Anton Savor smirks until Ares turns to him.“You, Savor… you’re a weapon. Don't let them turn you into a joke with a chef’s knife.”
Anton’s smirk drops.
Ares continues, turning to Eclipse, then Graves. “Tonight, you’ll fight not just for Arcadia—but to be deemed worthy. And if you fail?” A slow smile creeps onto his face. “Hades will be waiting.”
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: What kind of leader is Ares? He's a tyrant.
MATT RUBY: An iron fisted rule preserves our way of life, BB. You know that.
Right Side: Deathrow HQ
Jackson Cade stands at the center of a cracked table, surrounded by his allies. His sleeves are rolled, his tone measured—Captain Arcadia, Destructo, El Dragón Caído, Felix Foley, Gemini, Harold Attano, Hatchet, Nero, The Night and Wolf Fang Ayame listen closely.
George Cade leans against the back wall, arms folded, watching.
Jackson speaks—not like a general, but like a brother-in-arms.
“We’ve been pushed to the edge. We’ve lost friends. Family. Home.” He looks around the room. “At Hounds of Hades, five of us will face the Preservationists. It’s a match Arcadia has never seen… and maybe the one that will define who wins this war.”
He pauses, letting it hang.
“I won’t order anyone. Who volunteers?” A hand rises—Foley. Then Destructo steps forward. Captain Arcadia nods, placing a hand on Cade’s shoulder.
Hatchet smirks. “Let’s dance.”
In time, everyone volunteers.
“Alright then. Let’s show them that loyalty, compassion, and belief… can be stronger than tyranny. ”
Split Screen
On the left, Ares snarls orders and shoves soldiers into formation.
On the right, Cade shakes the hands of those who stepped forward, standing alongside them.
The screen flickers.
Two sides.
Two styles of leadership.
One war.
And Hounds of Hades is coming.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Two different styles of leadership; one match. Who'll be the ten participants in Hounds of Hades!?
MATT RUBY: I don't fancy the Seekers chances, no matter who they pick.
Cut.
Help
Static.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: This is a feed of security footage I’m being told.
MATT RUBY: Of what?
C.J. Thorpe’s dug up burial mound.
The angle shifts every so often, but the picture remains distorted.
Through the haze, Jasper Redgrave stands at the edge of the disturbed grave, coat buttoned tight.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: It’s always this guy, isn’t it?
MATT RUBY: What is that supposed to mean, BB?
Across from him, a shadow.
Face obscured. Voice muffled by the low hum of interference.
“What the fuck do you want, Redgrave?”
Jasper doesn’t move. He just looks down at the muddy earth, at the print still faint in the soil.
“He knows who the footprint belongs to.”
Silence.
“And?”
Redgrave lifts his eyes, faint smile curling at the corners.
“When the time comes,” he says quietly, “you’ll know what to do.”
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: ‘Know what to do?’ What does that even mean? What is Jasper Redgrave cooking up here tonight.
MATT RUBY: We’ll know when the time comes, duh! I can’t wait to see.
The camera feed fractures—first in blur, then in black.
Cut.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Ladies and gentlemen, it is time for the Chemical X invitational. Three teams have taken up the challenge, two from the Seekers and one of their fellow Preservationists. The question is can the current champions survive this gauntlet ahead of them?
MATT RUBY: What a stupid question BB, of course Chemical X can. The very best tag team champions Olympus has ever seen is walking in and walking out still the champions, no matter what the Seekers think they can throw at them.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: They only have a twenty five percent chance here Ruby, especially now with the change to the match we found out earlier today. This invitational is now a TLC Matchup, the tag titles high up in the air just waiting for one team to pull them down.
The bell sounds as all eight competitors circle around the ring for a moment, tensions high as they all wait for the first person to move. Which happens to be Wolf Fang as she rushes forward in a fury
SHOTGUN DROPKICK SENDS ECLIPSE OUT OF THE RING!
Ayame turns around into a headbutt before she's grabbed by the wrist,
GET OVER HERE! Ayame gets turned inside out by the short arm clothesline.
SNAPSHOT! Gemini takes Nox down with a Codebreaker out of nowhere. The Rogue getting to her feet celebrating for a moment with El Mariachi, the pair not noticing the menacing Drewitt towering behind them until they turn around
DOUBLE GOOZLE
ARDUOUS JOURNEY! Drewitt sends El Amore Del Muerte straight to damn hell with a pair of Chokeslams. War turning around into a hard enziguri to the back of the head by Dragon Caido, dropping him down to one knee as the Fallen rushes to the ropes, bouncing off
INTO ENLIGHTENMENT! Grimskull out of nowhere with the Torpedo Kokeshi, bouncing off his own partner to take down Caido. The Fallen Dragon staggers up to his feet
DESOLATION! A brutal Claymore Kick sends him flying over the ropes to the concrete floor below as Apokolypsis stand tall, all alone in the ring.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Absolute chaos in the early goings here, Apokolypsis the only team standing but they still need a ladder to win here.
Drewitt slaps Grimskull on the back as the pair roll out of the ring. Drewitt kicks Gemini hard in the face as he rolls out, grabbing one of the ladders before rolling in. Grimskull heads up the rampway, grabbing the ladder there as he turns
SHOTGUN DROPKICK BY WOLF FANG!
The Dragon Princess stands tall, delivering a hard kick to the chest of the rising Grimskull for good measure before grabbing the ladder and running to the ring. Drewitt allready has his set up, watching Ayame slide into the ring as he begins to slowly climb. Ayame sets her ladder up, quickly climbing up as well
Drewitt gets up top first but can't reach up as Gemini slides in, grabbing his leg and trying to pull him off. Ayame takes the opportunity, rushing up her ladder as she reaches up high
ECLIPSE DRIVES A FOREARM INTO HER BACK!
Ayame tries to kick her off but Eclipse grabs the kick, sending Ayame head first into the steel. She grabs Ayame around the waist, pulling her away from the ladder
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Oh no, she can't be thinking what she's thinking?
BEFORE POWERBOMBING AYAME FROM THE TOP OF THE LADDER TO THE CANVAS BELOW!
Wolf Fang collapses, rolling to the outside as Eclipse drops down, winded from the display of power.
Drewitt manages to kick Eclipse away, reaching back up for the gold
MALICIOUS SONATA OUT OF NOWHERE! EL MARIACHI WITH THE SPRINGBOARD STUNNER WIPING OUT WAR!
Gemini pulls Muerte up to his feet, signaling to the hurting Eclipse staggering to her feet.
MATT RUBY: Oh of course, now the so called goody two shoes double team up on the defenseless woman. Is this your idea of heroes BB?
Eclipse stumbles up right into a hard right to the jaw by Gemini, the Rogue throwing her into a hard Belly to Back Suplex from El Mariachi. Gemini then pulls Eclipse up, hoisting her up onto her shoulders as EMM rushes to the ropes, springboarding off
INTO THE POISON MISTER! NOX BLINDING EMM OUT OF NOWHERE!
Eclipse takes advantage, slipping off Gemini's shoulders before spinning her around and hoisting the Rogue up onto her shoulders
GTS!
Gemini doesn't go down, instead staggering into a Full Nelson from NOX
SNAP DRAGON! YOU'LL SLEEP WHEN YOU'RE DEAD!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Spoke too soon Ruby, now your precious Chemical X is in control once more.
The tag champs stalk the blinded EMM for a moment, Nox delivering a hard kick to the jaw before spinning him around
RELEASE GERMAN INTO A BACKSTABBER!
BLACK FIRE!
The ring is completely empty aside from Chemical X, the tag champs have a clear view to grabbing their belts as Eclipse goes to grab the ladder but Nox shakes his head before whispering something in his tag partners ear as a wicked smile crosses the Black Bride.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Oh god, what wicked thing do these two have in mind now?
Eclipse keeps both Gemini and EMM down, holding a boot to both their throats as Nox slides out of the ring, flipping up the apron and grabbing something from under the ring.
A table.
MATT RUBY: Well here's the T part of the TLC BB, we're about to see some career ending carnage here.
Nox grabs a second table and then a third from underneath, setting up a deathly trap for someone as he looks towards the ring and tells Eclipse to go up top. He slides inside, kicking EMM out of the ring before pulling Gemini up to her feet, lifting her up into an Electric Chair before walking close to the ropes.
SNAP RANA OUT OF NOWHERE! Gemini counters the Fall, sending Nox staggering over the ropes and onto the apron, barely able to stop himself from falling backwards.
Eclipse is pissed as she goes to dive off at Gemini but suddenly gets grabbed by a springboarding El Dragon
TOP ROPE BELLY TO BELLY SENDS ECLIPSE FLYING!
As then both Gemini and El Dragon turn their attention to Nox
Heavy lefts and rights from both competitors have Nox te-te-teeeteetering on the edge, fingers barely able to keep hold of the ropes
SNAPSHOT! Gemini nails the Codebreaker, sending Nox flying backwards
INTO THE ARMS OF GRIMSKULL!
MATT RUBY: Oh thank god you were there Grimskull.
Grimskull holds Nox for a moment, looking towards the ring, before looking towards the tables.
MATT RUBY: Don't you dare do it you bastard.
Nox visible gulps, pleading with Grimskull for a moment as Conquest just shakes his head, placing Nox back down on the floor. Gemini and Caido urge the pair inside, Grimskull just smirking before telling them to turn around.
DESOLATION! Huge Claymore Kick takes down both competitors as Nox and Grimskull slide into the ring. Drewitt pulls Caido up to his feet
GOOZLE!
ARDUOUS LESSON! Chokeslam into a Superkick!
Nox pulls Gemini up, gripping her around the throat
NOX OUT! Brutal Chokebomb sends Gemini nearly through the mat.
The trio kick the Seekers out of the ring, looking upwards as Apokolypsis nods at Nox.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: And the fix is in, are Apokolypsis about to give Chemical X the title retention?
Both Grimskull and Nox set up the ladder, each man climbing up either side. Drewitt standing guard as they get to the top, look one another in the eyes
And begin playing rock, paper, scissors.
MATT RUBY: HA! Genius move here. Either Chem X retain or Apokolypsis win, either way the Preservationists remain tag champs in the fairest way possible.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Oh sure, no way this could go haywire easily.
As if on que, Wolf Fang slides into the ring, trying to topple the ladder. Drewitt stops her, rocking Ayame with a headbutt before trying to wipe her out with the Sightseer. The Dragon Princess manages to slip out, rolling backwards as Drewitt rushes forward
RIGHT INTO THE DRAGONS MAW! Scorpion Kick doesn't knock Drewitt down but stuns him as he stumbles backwards
and accidentally tips the ladder over
AS BOTH NOX AND GRIMSKULL GO FLYING OUT OF THE RING
THROUGH THE MOUNTAIN OF TABLES
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: And hubris by any other name is well deserved. Nox and Grimskull are out cold and Drewitt...he may well be in major trouble with his so called friends.
Drewitt is shocked for a moment, Wolf Fang getting up with a wide smile as she rushes at him for another Dragons Maw
DREWITT CATCHES IT!
He's furious, body shaking with rage as he grips her by the throat, lifting her up high before slowly walking forward
ARDUOUS JOURNEY TO THE OUTSIDE!
MATT RUBY: Drewitt's the only one left, come on you dumbass, don't fuck this up and win the belts.
Drewitt sets up the ladder, slowly climbing his way upwards as he looks to win the tag titles. He's mere fingertips away.
EL MARIACHI MUERTE LEAPS ONTO THE LADDER OUT OF NOWHERE!
Muerte takes Drewitt by surprise, rocking him with a hard left and right before a big punch to the throat stuns Conquest. El Mariachi pulls him up to the top, both men standing precariously on the top as Muerte grabs him around the waist
WHISKEY LULLABY FROM THE TOP OF THE LADDER!
Drewitt goes flying across the ring, over the ropes, crashing hard on the concrete floor as the crowd begin to roar. Muerte looking up, fingertips away from the gold as he reaches upwards
AND PULLS DOWN THE TAG TITLES! EL AMORE DEL MUERTE ARE THE NEW TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS!
MATT RUBY: NOOOO! How the hell did that just happen? We had it in the bag and that absolute dumbass Drewitt just ruined everything.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: That's right Ruby, not only did Chemical X lose the belts but the Preservationists finally have lost some power in Olympus. The Seekers have the tag titles once more and I'd wager Ares is not going to be very happy with this outcome.
Broken Trust
The match was over. The crowd’s roar still echoed through the arena, but in the ring, things had taken a turn.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Man, Grimskull looks furious.
MATT RUBY: I'll give you that. He doesn't look happy at all, but then they did just lose to those who tried to kill them.
Grimskull, breathing heavily, stood over Drewitt’s fallen body, the Explorer kneeling... eyes blazing behind the cold, expressionless steel of his demeanour. The bell had long since rung, but the war—his war—had only just begun.
He dropped to one knee, fists clenched.
“You’re a traitor…” he snarled, grabbing Drewitt by the collar and dragging him up to his knees. “You let her escape. You let Gemini go!”
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: OH MY GOSH! I THINK.. I think the Preservationists are about to have their moment!
MATT RUBY: C'mon guys! You can work this out!
Drewitt coughed, dazed, unable to answer. The crowd began to boo, sensing what was coming.
Grimskull didn’t care.
“You had one job. And you chose her. You chose those who fucking betrayed us!”
With a violent shove, he tossed Drewitt back down to the mat and rolled out of the ring. He yanked a steel chair from beneath the apron, folding it open and stalking back in with purpose.
The fans erupted with boos, but he wasn’t here for their acknowledgement
Grimskull placed the chair around Drewitt’s neck and looked up at the corner ring post like a man possessed.
“You made your choice,” he growled.
He backed up—ready to run, ready to drive Drewitt’s skull into steel, ready to end this once and for all—
BUT THEN—
El Mariachi Muerte’s slides into the ring! The crowd explode!
Grimskull paused mid-charge, the shock visible in his posture. He didn't expect this, but if anything, Muerte intervening assures his assertion.
Muerte dove toward Drewitt, yanking the chair off his neck just as Grimskull took a step back.
Muerte popped back to his feet, standing in front of the Explorer, now stood tall, eyes locked with Grimskull, daring him to move. "Go on, amigo, what now?"
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Muerte just.. he just saved Drewitt!
MATT RUBY: That's rich. Drewitt didn't save him from having his throat slit!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: It's more complicated than that and you know it.
MATT RUBY: Do I?
But the Preacher refused engage. He chuckles. He took one final, burning look at Muerte—then turned, slipping out of the ring and disappearing through the crowd like a shadow.
Gemini rolled into the ring, kneeling beside Drewitt, helping Muerte check on him.
Trust may have been broken. But someone still came back for him.
This time.
Cut.
Origins: Klaus Way
[FLASHBACK – MANY YEARS AGO]
CRACKLE. ROAR. POP.
The screen flickers into a sepia-toned nightmare, the edges burned like old film.
We’re inside a modest home. Flames roar, tearing through wood and wallpaper, devouring curtains, choking the air with thick black smoke. The once quiet house is now a living inferno.
A door creaks open.
Young Klaus Way, stumbles out of his bedroom, coughing violently. His hair is matted with sweat, his pajamas soaked in smoke and panic. He trips over a fallen picture frame—his family smiling in it—now shattered beneath his bare foot.
“MAMA!? PAPA!?”
He stumbles into the hallway, only to find the world around him melting.
Through the thick smoke, he sees them.
Milo Way and Ada Way, his parents. Screaming. Burning. Their limbs flailing as fire swallows them whole.
Klaus screams, frozen in horror.
His father locks eyes with him through the blaze, a final moment of agony etched into his soul forever.
“RUN KLAUS! R... RUN!”
And he does.
He turns, leaps over a fallen beam, and throws open a window. Glass shatters as he tumbles out, landing hard on the scorched ground outside.
He crawls away, the roar of the collapsing house behind him like a dying beast.
Breathing ragged, tears streaking through the soot on his cheeks, Klaus pulls himself up onto shaky legs.
He turns around.
And there they are.
The Freaks.
The ones he used to torment. The ones he used to mock. The ones he used to own.
Now standing side by side.
Faces lit by the fire. Eyes filled not with fear— But satisfaction.
They watch the flames consume everything Klaus once had. Everything he once loved. And they do not flinch.
Klaus stands in shock, trembling. Not from the cold… but from the realization that he is now alone.
The scene fades, the fire still roaring in the background.
And all that’s left is a boy.
A broken boy, born from flame.
Cut to black.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Anton Savor defends his Double Feature Championship here tonight against Harold Attano in a Hells Kitchen Match.
MATT RUBY: All Anton Savor wanted to do was to cook in Savor’s kitchen. Now we have a kitchen set up right in that ring.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: The only rule here is pin your opponent, so the only thing they’re going to cook tonight is pain. I don’t think they’re here to make you an omelette.
The ring is adorned with all the trimmings a chef could ever want. An island bench stands before Savor and Attano. A table laden with pots and pans lies against one set of ropes. A functioning oven and bubbling vats of oil are set against the opposite.
Attano. Savor. They stand opposite each other, island bench between them. Both arm themselves off the bat with kitchen tools. Attano with a knife and Savor with a cast-iron skillet.
Attano, hand still bandaged from the burns suffered last week, darts around the side of the bench, coming at Savor with his knife, but Savor ducks out of the way of the blade and slams the skillet into the elbow of Attano. Nobody drops the knife.
SMACK!
ATTANO JUST GOT CLOBBERED OVER THE SKULL WITH THE SKILLET!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Attano drops like a sack of potatoes!
MATT RUBY: Anton Savor really knows how to swing a skillet.
Savor hoists Attano groggily to his feet and flings him into the corner turnbuckle. He dashes after him and swings the skillet once more.
CLANG!
NOTHING BUT STEEL ON STEEL!
ATTANO GETS OUT OF THE WAY!
Savor shakes his hand, still ringing from the shockwaves running through his arm. He turns to face Nobody, but Attano is already reaching for him.
He slams him head first into the cooktop of the oven…
WITH A FLASH OF FIRE, ATTANO IGNITES THE GAS!
HOLDING SAVOR’S FACE TOWARD THE FLAME!
SAVOR SCREAMS IN PAIN AS THE COOKING SURFACE HEATS UP!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Things are getting in hot here now, and Anton Savor is getting his face melted.
MATT RUBY: He’s just lightly seared. You know I love my chefs well done.
Savor kicks with all of his might, buckling the knee of Attano and escaping the fire. He shoulder charges Attano, and the pair crash into the island bench.
WHACK!
ROLLING PIN TO THE SKULL OF ATTANO!
Savor takes Attano’s injured hand, forcing it inside a large mortar bowl. Taking the stone pestle, he slams it down onto the hand. Again and again and again, he slams the stone club down into the hand, each one bringing a scream of agony from Nobody’s lips.
Until Attano grabs the stone bowl and tosses it straight at Attano’s face.
IT CATCHES HIM AND SENDS HIM STAGGERING BACKWARDS!
BLAM!
ATTANO FIRES AN ENTIRE PRESSURE COOKER ACROSS THE RING, HITTING SAVOR IN THE HEAD!
He arms himself with a pizza stone, and charges at a groggy Anton Savor.
CA-RACK! STONE TO THE SKULL!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Anton Savor is down! He’s down but Attano is not finished with him.
MATT RUBY: He’s making a pizza. Now, he’s just got to slice it.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: No… Harold, don’t!
Nobody grabs the pizza roller off the table, and kneels atop of Savor. He takes the blade, pushing down till he breaks the skin.
HE’S SLICING INTO SAVOR’S FLESH!
THE DOUBLE FEATURE CHAMPION IS HAVING SHAPES CHOPPED INTO HIM!
The screams seem to only bring more satisfaction to Attano’s face. It’s all that Savor can do to take a thumb to Nobody’s eyes so he can escape.
He slips out of the ring to recover, while Attano recovers his sight.
But Attano has no interest in hanging around. He arms himself with a chopping board and dashes to the ropes.
LEAPING INTO THE AIR! ATTANO WITH A DIVING SHOT!
NO!
SAVOR HITS HIM WITH THE SUPERKICK! CRÈME BRÛLÉE THROUGH THE CHOPPING BOARD TO THE SKULL!
ATTANO IS DOWN!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: High risk, Attano crashed and burned there!
MATT RUBY: Now we can see what the chef is cooking!
Savor is quick to pull Attano to his feet and roll him back into the ring. He stands Attano up and pushes him back first against the bubbling vats of burning oil.
He grabs Attano by the head and forces it towards the burning oil.
His face inches away from the oil, Attano finds his resistance.
Out of desperation, Attano pushes back.
He fights back with a right fist that finds its home.
Savor hits back with a fist of his own.
Attano. Savor.
Attano. Savor.
They’re slugging it out over the top of a bubbling, boiling bucket of oil.
Attano gets the upper hand with a couple of shots in a row, forcing Savor back.
KNEE CAP!
SHOTGUN DROPKICK TO THE KNEE!
Attano looks towards the stove, once more turning on the gas. This time underneath a frypan, heating the oil inside which soon starts bubbling away.
Savor staggers to his feet and straight away lines Attano up.
BUT ATTANO GRABS THE FRYPAN AND TOSSES THE CONTENTS AT ANTON SAVOR!
HOT OIL AND SEVERAL SAUSAGES HIT SAVOR RIGHT IN THE FACE!
MATT RUBY: Six sizzling sausages, spitting in a smoking skillet!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Oil to the face, that can blind him. If we’re not careful, these two are going to burn Olympus down!
Savor is temporarily blinded from the hot oil, and is soon clobbered with a Clothesline from Attano that sends him reeling into the table. The pots, pans and a knife block all fall to the mat.
Attano comes charging at Savor…
THE FINAL COURSE!
GTS FROM SAVOR THROUGH THE FUCKING KITCHEN TABLE!
IN AMONGST THE RUBBLE, SAVOR PINS…
ONE!
…
…
TWO!
…
…
...
...
...
TH-NO!
KICKOUT AT THE LAST MINUTE!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: There’s still a little fight in Harold Attano!
MATT RUBY: Not to mention a few splinters from that table!
Both men stagger to a vertical base. Both are exhausted.
Again, they trade blows.
This time with frypans.
CLANG!
ATTANO HITS SAVOR!
CLANG!
SAVOR HITS ATTANO!
BOTH MEN LOOK LIKE A SOFT BREEZE WOULD DROP THEM!
SAVOR HOISTS ATTANO UP ONTO HIS SHOULDERS!
HE MARCHES HIM TO THE CENTER OF THE RING!
BURNING HAMMER!
FLAME BROILER ONTO THE ISLAND BENCH!
KILLING HIM WITH FUCKING FIRE!
MATT RUBY: Count the pinfall, this one is done!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Your winner of the Hells Kitchen Match, and STILLLLLL Double Feature Champion. Anton Savor!
The Sunshine Club
The match was over. Anton Savor, bruised and sweat-soaked, staggered to his feet in the center of the ring, barely able to lift his arms in victory—or in defiance.
But then the lights shifted. A strange, unsettling energy filled the air.
The Kingdom.
And out they came.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: We've seen this before! These Kingdom bastards!
MATT RUBY: Are they aligned with Savor? Is he the Zookeeper!?
The Brown Bear. The Green Frog. The Red Fox. The White Rabbit.
Clad in vibrant, unsettling animal masks, they surrounded the ring with methodical intent. Savor turned, trying to prepare himself, but his legs were jelly. His instincts screamed that this wasn’t a post-match formality—this was a hunt. They wanted him. But why?
They slid into the ring and descended.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: I don't think they're here to make friends! Savor is getting a beat down!
MATT RUBY: Why!?
Fists flew. Boots stomped. The ring shook under the weight of their calculated violence as Savor was beaten down mercilessly in the middle of the ring.
Suddenly—The guitar riff of the the Pretender begins to play, as red, white and blue lights descend on the stage, revealing Captain Arcadia as the chorus hits.
Here comes The Captain!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Of all people to make the save!
MATT RUBY: This guy just wants all the glory.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: He wants revenge, Ruby!
The crowd exploded as the former Yellow Python stormed down the ramp, eyes locked on the chaos inside the ring. He has no love for Anton Savor, but he owes these mother fuckers a fight.
He dove in—fists swinging, striking The Red Fox, then The Rabbit. For a moment, it seemed like he might hold them off.
But numbers don't lie.
Four-on-one turned into four-on-two as Arcadia was dropped hard with a vicious shot from The Brown Bear.
Both men lay writhing in pain, bodies broken, as the crowd jeered—
The cheerful, catchy opening of the Sunshine Club's theme song begins to play. The mood shifted again.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Oh great.
MATT RUBY: Sunshine to save the day!
Sunshine jogged down the ramp with exaggerated concern, motioning toward the ring as if to stop the carnage. The crowd, desperate for a hero, cheered—
—until he reached the apron and… stopped.
A slow smile spread across his face. He slid into the ring—not to fight, but to stand tall among the masked attackers.
He raised a microphone to his lips, the crowd booing violently now. “There seems to be a misconception,” Sunshine began, his voice sweet as poisoned honey. “Yes, these individuals were sent to OSW by The Zookeeper… but only because I called in a favor.”
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: WHAT!?
MATT RUBY: THIS IS GENIOUS!!
Gasps echoed.
“This isn’t The Kingdom.” He grinned. “This… is the Sunshine Club.”
He turned to each attacker.
“Let’s introduce our new little sunbeams, shall we?”
He gestured to The Brown Bear, who slowly removed his mask to reveal a mean, snarling face, eyes full of rage.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: I can't believe this asshole!
MATT RUBY: Careful! This is the leader of the Sunshine Club you're talking about!
“This is Mister Smile.”
Next, The Green Frog unmasked—a twisted smirk beneath cold, emotionless eyes.
“Say hello to Mister Chipper.”
The White Rabbit pulled off her mask next—revealing a woman with a porcelain face and eyes too wide.
“This lovely creature? Miss Joy.”
Finally, the Red Fox removed his mask, nodding to the crowd with eerie glee.
“And this is Mister Cheerful.”
The Sunshine Club stood together in a line, smiling wide, hands raised in mock celebration over the fallen bodies of Arcadia and Savor.
The crowd was disgusted, the air thick with betrayal and dread.
Sunshine gave one last look to the camera.
“Let the children know… playtime’s just begun.”
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Mister Sunshine brought these to OSW all along. There's gonna be hell to pay when Captain Arcadia and Anton Savor wake up!
MATT RUBY: Goodluck to them I'd say. The Sunshine Club are a force to be reckoned with!
Cut.
The Chains of Consequence
Recorded Earlier – The Slums of Arcadia
The streets were quiet, shadows stretching across the broken cobblestones of the Slums—Arcadia's forgotten underbelly. Here, the air was thick with rot and regret, and the silence echoed louder than any siren.
Gravedigger moved with purpose, his frame hunched beneath the weight of something both literal and metaphorical—Igor Mortis, paralyzed, feeble, barely clinging to life.
Carrying his old mentor like a sack of bones, Gravedigger’s breath came heavy as he arrived at a building on the verge of collapse.
A crack house.
One he knew far too well.
He shouldered open the door. Dust. Decay. Ghosts of choices past. He walked across creaking floorboards and set Mortis down in a mold-ridden chair.
“This is the best I can do,” Gravedigger muttered, straightening up. “No one will find us here.”
But someone already had.
CRASH!
A thunderous impact sent Gravedigger hurtling forward into the glass window, shattering it with the force. Tombstone soon emerged from the shadows, a freight train of vengeance. He had blindsided Gravedigger with bone-rattling force, sending him crashing into a nearby glass window, shattering it into a thousand jagged pieces.
He grabs him by the head, running him as hard and fast as he can OUT of the now broken window.
Gravedigger vanished into the darkness beyond. A fall fifteen feet to concrete - a fall any human would not survive.
Tombstone stood, chest heaving, rage pulsing in every movement.
He turned.
His eyes fell on the man he once called a father figure.
Igor Mortis.
The broken puppeteer.
Tombstone stalked forward and wrapped his powerful hand around Mortis’ throat, lifting him just slightly—enough to make the frail man wheeze.
“I didn’t know what needed to be done… until I spoke with the Reaper,” Tombstone said coldly. His voice was low, but it thundered through the room like a funeral drum.
Mortis’ eyes filled with fear. He choked, desperate.
“P-please… I can fix it… I swear, Ezra—” But the name only made Tombstone’s jaw clench harder.
He shook his head. “Too late.”
And then—SNAP.
A sickening crack as Tombstone snapped Mortis’ neck, dropping his lifeless body to the ground like a discarded relic.
But before he could even breathe—
His eyes rolled back.
His limbs tensed.
His body convulsed.
Tombstone dropped to his knees, gripped by an unexplainable seizure.
His body shook, teeth clenched, muscles seizing violently.
Something was wrong.
Very wrong.
And then—
Cut.
Hidden Blade
The Watcher’s Compound
A single candle flickers between John the Revelator and an old man, sat cross-legged on a cold stone floor.
“Pain isn’t in the blade, Willy. Pain is the memory of the blade.” John’s voice is soft. “The moment has passed, but your soul replays it… again and again. That’s the hidden blade.”
Willy’s hands tremble on his knees. His eyes are shut tight—but not in peace.
“I see their faces… still. I hear the chains.” He swallows, then chokes it out. “I sold them. I sold people. My fellow Anestherians. I told myself it was survival. That I was just… doing what I had to do.”
MATT RUBY: That’s all any of us can do!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Stop.
“There are many here guilty of evil. But even in a house of second chances, justice still knocks.”
Willy opens his eyes. And nods…
Moments later, they stand at the threshold of a great sealed door. Two guards step forward, barring the way.
“I am coming too,” John says.
The guards glance at one another. “Our leader doesn’t answer to you, old man.”
Willy is taken. Dragged through the door.
John remains.
Inside the chamber, Willy is thrown to the ground.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: We’ve seen this room before, it’s where the Watcher’s leader lurks.
Heavy footsteps echo above him. A voice, low and thunderous, speaks from the shadows.
“Willy. The hidden blade is a fairy tale. Told to soothe the sting of the real blade.”
A beat.
“I thought the Mariachi would have told you that.”
A scream rips through the room.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Damn it.
Outside, John raises an eyebrow.
Cut.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Tonight, we have a match months in the making for the NXT Level Championship!
MATT RUBY: We get justice tonight as the most vicious and attractive woman in Arcadia beats the breaks off the man responsible for nearly blowing the Baron sky-high!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Allegedly, Ruby, there’s no proof that The Night was responsible for the explosion in the Pantheon.
MATT RUBY: Due process doesn’t exist in Arcadia. Tonight, Narcy-Doll will show Arcadia, and on the call tonight, that bastion of justice... Cole Holt!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Well, this is going to be screwy.
Referee Cole Holt calls for the bell as The Night and Narcissa circle each other like two felines about to become a ball of claws and fur.
Narcissa lashes out...
UPRISING!
BICYCLE KNEE STRIKE... MISSES AS THE NIGHT SIDE STEPS...
*KER-MOTHERFUCKING-RAK!*
HIDDEN BLADE ELBOW TO THE BACK OF NARCISSA’S SKULL FOLDS HER UP ON THE MAT!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: HERA DIDN’T SEE THAT COMING, AS IT SEEMS HAROLD ATTANO’S RUBBING OFF ON THE NIGHT AS HE BARROWS A MOVE FROM MR. NOBODY THERE!
THE NIGHT PUSHES NARCISSA TO THE CANVAS, COVERING THE PRESERVATIONIST...
AS COLE HOLT...
MEANDERS...
INTO POSITION...
ONE!
...
...
TWO!
SHOULDER UP!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: What the hell was that, Holt?! That was the slowest count I’ve ever seen!
The Night gets back to his feet, intimidating the crooked referee Holt, menacingly staring him down as Holt backs away toward the ropes.
*WA-BAM!*
NATURAL SELECTION BY HERA FROM OUTTA FUCKING NOWHERE!
MATT RUBY: THAT’S BACK IN FASHION, BRONCO!
THE DESIGNER ROLLS DARKNESS INCARNATE INTO THE COVER, AND COLE HOLT IS JOHNNY ON THE SPOT!
ONE!
TWO!
THR-
KICK-OUT!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: That was a damn fast count, and the Night still managed to kick-out!
Narcissa pulls The Living Shadow off the canvas and starts digging her thumbs into the eyes of The Night!
Desperation stomp by The Night, driving his heel into the foot of Hera, causing her to loosen her grip.
The Anti Hero dashes to the ropes, springboarding off the top rope...
NIGHT AND DAY!
INVERTED SENTON – UPRISING KNEE STRIKE TO THE BASE OF THE NIGHT’S SKULL CAUSES HIM TO LAND AWKWARDLY ON HIS HEAD AND SHOULDERS AS THE CROWD LETS OUT A GASP OF EXASPERATED HORROR!
Narcissa grabs a satchel from ringside and produces a pair of slip-on Stilettos! Quickly slipping off her wrestling shoes, she slides her feet into the high heels, before scaling to the top turn buckle!
COUP D'ETAT!
DOUBLE FOOT STOMP!
KILL
IT
WITH
*SNAP!*
THE NIGHT MANAGES TO ROLL OUT OF THE WAY, TO HIS FEET, AND NARCISSA LANDS HARD, SNAPPING ONE OF HER HIGH HEELS!
*WA-BAM!*
SHOTGUN DROPKICK SLAMS NARCISSA’S BACK INTO THE CORNER, KNOCKING HER OUT OF HER SHOES, AND SLAMMING HER BACK INTO THE CORNER, CAUSING HER TO WHIPLASH TO THE GROUND!
The Night shakily scales the corner, legs weak, and shaking a stinger out of his arm. Before desperately leaping off the top rope!
DARKNESS FALLS!
SEAN-TON BOMB!
THE NIGHT LANDS FULL WEIGHT ON TOP OF NARCISSA, AND THE ANTI HERO LAYS THERE ON TOP OF NARCISSA EXHAUSTED AND BEATEN AS COLE HOLT SLIDES INTO POSITION!
ONE!
...
TWO!
...
NEW NXT LEVEL CHAMPION?!
...
THRE-NO!-NO, NO, NO! NARCISSA’S BIG TOE HOOKS THE BOTTOM ROPE!
The Night limply lulls his head back to see Hera’s toe on the bottom rope, and we hear audible, “FUCK”! In exasperated frustration from The Living Shadow as he slowly stands back to his feet!
Narcissa isn’t far behind him as she struggles to her feet as well. The Night manages to Irish Whip Hera into the corner and looks to follow it up, but Narcissa Side Steps...
CAUGHT UP!
NARCISSA MANAGES TO TIE THE NIGHT IN THE TARANTULA!
COLE HOLT JUST STARES INTO SPACE AS NARCISSA WRENCHES ON THE ARMS, LEGS, AND BACK OF THE ENIGMA AS HE HOWLS IN PAIN!
Night struggles to free himself, flexing his arm enough to bring the calf of Narcissa into reach...
*CHOMP!*
The Night bites down on the calf of Narcissa, and she releases the hold while letting out a blood-curdling scream of pain!
Cole Holt starts screaming at The Enigma about biting.
MATT RUBY: That was cheap, you tell ‘em, Cole!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Shut the hell up, Ruby, it wasn’t like he was doing his job calling for the break!
Clothesline from The Fashionista, countered by The Night...
INTO YOUR WORST NIGHTMARE – THE CRIPPLER CROSSFACE IS LOCKED IN TIGHT!
THE DESIGNER STRUGGLES AGAINST THE HOLD AS COLE HOLT DESPERATELY LOOKS FOR SOMETHING TO DO IN NEAR PANIC, HE SEES NARCISSA’S HAND JUST SHY OF THE ROPES, AND HOLT HOOKS HIS HEEL UNDER THE BOTTOM ROPE, PULLING IT INTO THE HAND OF NARCISSA!
HOLT IMMEDIATELY STARTS COUNTING AND CALLING FOR THE ROPE BREAK!
MATT RUBY: That’s Cole Holt calling it right down the middle!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Cole Holt is just above snakes, Matt, do you have both your contacts in the same eye?! It’s two on one in that ring!
The Night jumps to his feet and into the face of Cole Holt, allowing Narcissa to set up the Rip Cord. She pulls it...
REVOLUTION!
SPINNING GODDAMN HEEL KICK, LANDS FLUSH ON THE BRIDGE OF THE NIGHT’S NOSE AS NARCY CRAWLS INTO THE COVER! HOLT IS RIGHT THERE, IN POSITION LIKE A LOYAL PUPPY!
ONE!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: NO, NOT LIKE THIS!
TWO!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: COME ON, KICK-OUT NIGHT!
THREE!
MATT RUBY: Hell yeah! What a win! She did it barefoot, too, Bronco! That’s an incredible disadvantage when you’re used to wrestling in footwear, don’t you think, Bronco?!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Damn them, damn the both of them straight to the pits of Hades, and you can join them, Matt! Cole Holt and Narcissa Balenciaga screwed The Night in the worst meaning of the word tonight!
MATT RUBY: I don’t know what you’re talking about, Bronco. Cole Holt just did his job out there tonight, and Narcissa won a truly hard-fought match, and I just hope I can be part of the celebration tonight!
A Whisper
Narcissa stands in the center of the ring, sweat glistening on her brow, her expression unreadable. The Night, battle-worn and wary, stands opposite her, chest heaving from the fight. The crowd watches with curiosity, unsure if the war between them is over—or just beginning.
Narcissa raises a microphone.
“I’ve spent weeks hunting the truth. Searching for who set the bomb that nearly killed Zeus… my husband. The father of Arcadia," A hush falls over the crowd. “And I no longer believe… it was you.”
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: [Sarcastic] I bet that's a relief.
MATT RUBY: There's no need to be like that. I bet he was terrified.
The Night stares at her, eyes narrowing. He doesn’t reply. Doesn’t trust her. Not yet.
Narcissa slowly steps forward. She leans in—and whispers something in his ear.
The microphone drops to her side.
We don’t hear it.
But we see the effect.
The Night’s jaw drops. His eyes go wide, filled with shock… disbelief… horror.
He staggers back a step, shaking his head slowly.
“You’re lying,” he says, voice barely audible, almost pleading.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: What did she say?
MATT RUBY: He doesn't believe it, whatever it was.
Narcissa says nothing into the mic.
But she leans in again—and this time we hear her just faintly off-mic as the audio peaks:
“I’ll prove it. Come with me.”
The Night hesitates, torn between instinct and curiosity, fury and fear.
After a moment’s pause…
He follows her.
They slip under the ropes andup the ramp, the camera lingering as the two figures vanish into the shadows of the backstage corridor.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: He's... he's following her?
MATT RUBY: You can't blame him. I'd follow her anywhere - anywhere, BB.
The crowd is left buzzing.
What did she say?
What does she know?
And what is The Night about to find out?
Cut
Noxious
Off Camera.
The screen fades in from black.
It’s blurry at first—just dim lighting and the faint humming of a power source. Slowly, vision sharpens. We’re looking through someone’s eyes. A low groan escapes from the throat of the man waking up inside a small, metallic chamber.
He tries to move, but his arms are weak. His head throbs. Panic sets in.
He bangs against the glass.
“HELP! Anyone! PLEASE—”
A low hiss responds. The door to the chamber room opens, and a figure steps through the mist. Smooth, calm, calculating.
Nox.
Dressed in black and dark gree attire, his pale face obscured behind a respirator, he walks forward with gloved hands behind his back.
“You must be wondering where you are…” he says, softly. “But that’s not the important question.”
He leans closer to the glass.
“The important question is: what are you?”
The man inside—Monroe, though we only know that from the name etched into the chamber above—looks left, then right.
Terror sets in.
Rows and rows of chambers.
Some fogged. Most occupied by corpses. Twisted, burned, blistered. The remnants of failed experiments.
“This war,” Nox continues, “won’t be won by ideology, or by gods, or by sentimentality. No… it’ll be won by those who have the right weapons.”
He turns a valve.
A loud hiss fills the air.
Gas begins to pour into Monroe’s chamber.
Monroe screams, banging his fists against the glass. His eyes redden. His skin starts to boil. He coughs violently, spewing blood across the glass, clawing to breathe.
“Weapons need testing.”
Monroe’s scream fades into a guttural gurgle— Then, silence.
Nox watches. A cold, fascinated stare.
“Interesting…”
Suddfenly, we switch to Nox’s Perspective
With a cut to Nox’s POV, walking down the steel hallway outside the lab. Every footstep is deliberate.
He stops.
Hatchet stands in his path, arms crossed, eyes burning with rage.
“We’ve got unfinished business,” Hatchet growls.
Nox nods, calmly. “We do. And I have a proposition.”
Hatchet doesn’t flinch. He’s ready to attack.
“If you do this one final job—for me, for the Preservationists—I’ll give you something I know you're truly here for.”
Hatchet’s eyes narrow. “And what’s that?”
Nox steps closer, pulling a small vial from his coat—glowing, purple, unstable.
“The serum. The one that made you the monster. I know why you haven't come for me, Hatchet. I know why we haven't fought, or your army of Juggalo's haven't attempted vengeance on your behalf..”
A beat.
“You want to become a monster, Hatchet?” He says insincerely. "Then do what must be done."
The two stare each other down.
What neither man realize is that watching on from down the corridor, hidden away, is Destructo.
And the screen cuts to black.
Triangulation
Earlier today.
The room is dim, lit only by the blue flicker of a looping broadcast.
The footage plays again and again on the screen—Nero, half-hidden by static, voice distorted but unmistakable.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: This is from one of the video messages sent to Ezekiel Graves.
Lucius leans forward, elbows on his knees, eyes narrowed in concentration. The tape rolls one more time.
“You’re missing it,” comes the voice behind him.
Reverend Ezekiel Graves stands in the doorway, arms crossed, framed in shadow. He steps in slowly, gaze fixed on the screen.
Lucius doesn’t look back. “I’ve scrubbed it six times. He’s careful.”
“Even the careful slip,” Graves says. “All men do. Even the deceivers. Even the lost.”
The footage stutters. A half-second where Nero’s background glitches—just a flicker of something. Brickwork. A rusted symbol.
Lucius pauses the feed.
“There,” he says.
Graves steps beside him. His eyes trace the shape. Faint. Almost nothing. But enough.
“You will not leave this room until you find a thread to pull. Triangulate his location.”
Lucius nods.
MATT RUBY: Lucius is doing the Lord’s work!
Graves turns toward the door, rolling his wrists, loosening his shoulders.
“Tonight,” he says, voice low, “I take the World Championship from Jackson Cade. And when that’s finished…”
He glances back at the screen, at Nero frozen in digital silence.
“…I will rend the Red Reboot limb from limb.”
He stops at the threshold.
“For I will search with lantern and torch, and cast down the smug from their hiding places.”
The door closes behind him.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Ezekiel Graves is a man on a mission, Ruby.
The tape rolls again.
Cut.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: And here it is ladies and gentlemen. The OSW World Championship Matchup and a doozy of one at that. For months, the Preservationists and Ares have been coming at Jackson Cade with everything they have to take that gold away from him. One of the few pieces of power they don't have and now, the latest challenger has stepped up and one hell of a challenger at that.
MATT RUBY: Not only a challenger but the next champion BB. The exalted Reverend is more then enough to dethrone that bastard Cade and finally give some glory back to the World Championship that is much needed.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: You say that every time and every time Jackson Cade not only survives but wins handedly. if Graves wants to be the one who dethrones him, he's got one hell of a challenge ahead of him.
The arena lights dim, casting the entire space in near-total darkness. A low, ominous hum begins to fill the air, growing in intensity as the crowd quiets in anticipation. Suddenly, the haunting strains of "O Fortuna" by Carl Orff begin to echo through the arena, the powerful orchestral notes reverberating off the walls. The massive, foreboding chorus builds, creating a sense of impending doom.
A single spotlight flickers on, illuminating the entrance ramp. Standing at the top, in the center of the light, is Reverend Ezekiel Graves. He is clad in his long, black clerical robe, the white collar contrasting sharply against the dark fabric as a silver cross etched mask covers his face to just below his eyes. The silver cross around his neck catches the light, glinting as he stands motionless for a moment, surveying the crowd with an intense, piercing gaze. His expression is one of cold determination, his eyes dark and unforgiving.
In one hand, Graves holds his worn leather-bound Bible, clutched tightly to his chest as if it were a weapon. The other hand hangs loosely at his side, wrapped in black tape, ready to deliver divine retribution. The audience is silent, captivated by the eerie, almost ritualistic atmosphere that surrounds him.
INCENDIARY ROUND! BULLHAMMER OUT OF NOWHERE TO THE REVEREND!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: JACKSON CADE IS COMING FOR HIS POUND OF FLESH!
Cade pounds down on the unsuspecting Graves, delivering a hard uppercut before grabbing him by the back of the head and throwing him head first down the entrance ramp. The bible drops down as Graves rolls, Cade picking it up and looking through it for a moment, chuckling
BEFORE DAMN NEAR BREAKING THE BOOK IN HALF ON GRAVES HEAD!
MATT RUBY: SACRALIGE! I knew that bastard Cade was an atheist but I didn't think he'd mock God so easily.
Graves staggers to his feet into a flurry of lefts and rights before Cade cracks him with another Bullhammer elbow, The Reverend out of it at ringside before he's lifted high up into the air
MASTERKEY BRAINBUSTER ON THE CONCRETE!
This very well could be it here before the bell even rings as Cade pulls up the dazed and confused Graves, throwing him head first into the ring before he slides in himself.
Cole Holt calls for the bell as Cade hands him the title before backing up into the corner. Perseus is shaking, begging for Graves to get his ass up as Graves slowly rises to his feet
RIGHT INTO HOSTILE FUCKING DOWN! LEAPING SUPERKICK HITS THE MARK!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: You could hear Graves's jaw break from the cheap seats, that has to be it allready as Jackson Cade has retained the OSW World Championship.
Cade drops down, hooking the leg as Holt begins to count
ONE
....................
.....................
TWO
................
.........................
..............................
THREE????
......................
..............................
COLE HOLT STOPS COUNTING
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: What the hell? How much did they pay that corrupt bastard this time?
Cade looks pissed, getting to his feet in anger as Holt just points at Graves. The robe pushed aside, the mask fallen down from the sheer impact of the Superkick, revealing the face underneath.
MATT RUBY: I don't think they paid him anything BB, does that look like the Reverend to you?
That isn't Reverend Ezekial Graves in the ring, that's one of his many, many followers.
Cade curses to himself, looking all around for the real Graves when the lights begin to dim once more
O'Fortuna plays through the speakers as a figure slides in behind Cade, taking the World title from Cole Holt's hands.
Cade turns around
CHAMPIONSHIP BELT TO THE SKULL!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: I knew that bastard had a plan. Sacrificing one of his own followers to get the advantage on the world champion and how the hell can you tell me that's not bias by Colt with the foreign object shot?
MATT RUBY: Hey, referee's discretion BB. You really want this match to end so soon on a DQ?
Cade is busted open from the sheer power of that shot. Graves smiling wide as he stares at the bloodied gold for a moment before tossing it to the timekeeper and pulling Cade to his feet. He begins to tee off on the champion with heavy strikes specifically to the wound. Rights, lefts, elbows, knees before a hard leaping knee glazes Jackson's eyes over.
Graves backing up for a moment before rushing forward
HOLY WRATH! Brutal Lariat completes the combination as Cade crashes to the mat. He barely hits the mat before Graves pulls him up by the throat, Biel Tossing him into the corner with sheer force
Cade barely hits the corner before he's nearly decapitated with a huge corner clothesline, all 275 pounds of pure muscle crashing down on him as Cade staggers out of the corner.
FLAPJACK FACE FIRST TO THE MAT!
Cade gets implanted, a sickening splotch of blood staining the mat where he hit as Graves rolls him over, dropping down into a lackluster cover
ONE
..................
TWO
.................
...................
CADE GETS THE SHOULDER UP!
Graves doesn't look happy, telling Colt to count faster before hooking the leg this time
ONE
..................
TW...CADE KICKS OUT AGAIN!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Graves getting frustrated here, you can't lose your cool against a top competitor like Cade because he will make you pay for it.
Graves walks over to his fallen follower, pulling the cloth belt from around his waist and wrapping it around his fists. He slowly stalks the rising Cade
BEFORE WRAPPING IT AROUND HIS THROAT AND TRYING TO CHOKE HIM OUT!
Colt Holt begins to count, albeit very slowly as Graves begins to choke the life out of Cade
ONE
TWO
THR...JAWBREAKER FROM JACKSON CADE!
The World Champ manages to slip out of the choke, staggering to his feet as Graves stumbles back. He rushes to the ropes, bouncing off and ducking underneath a Lariat attempt before springboarding off the other side
BREACH AND CLEAR!
BREACH AND CLEAR!
BREACH AND CLEAR!
Trio of Slingblades takes down the challenger as Cade goes to pull Graves up to his feet. He gets a headbutt for his troubles, staggering him back as Graves goes for a Lariat
THAT'S COUNTERED INTO THREAT CONTAINMENT!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Cade locks in the Kimura out of nowhere, the bodyscissors locked in tight as Graves could very well tap out here
THE TIME KEEPERS BELL SUDDENLY RINGS!
MATT RUBY: Wait? That's it? That can't have been it, I didn't see no tap out, no referee calling for the bell
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Somethings incredibly screwy here Ruby, none of this adds up
Jackson lets go of the hold, the crowd going wild as they think their champion has retained but Cole Holt stops him, telling Cade Graves never tapped out.
Cade looks pissed, his eyes flickering to the timekeeper position as we see the time keeper on their ass, groggy as someone whistles from the entrance way. Lucius smiles wickedly, waving at Cade before sprinting backstage. Jackson looks like he's about to run after him
LOW BLOW!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: The Reverend once again using underhanded tactics to get the better of Jackson Cade here. I expected more from a pious man.
MATT RUBY: Hey, you've gotta go dark to beat true evil sometimes and Jackson Cade holding that title ain't good for anyone BB.
Cade crumples from the shot to the little Jacksons, Graves smiling wickedly as he lifts Jackson up to his feet, hoisting him up high into the air before running forward
PURGATORY PLUNGE INTO THE TURNBUCKLES! Cade's back crunches from the impact, screaming out in pain as Graves pulls him out of the corner, hooking the leg for the pinfall attempt
ONE
...............
.....................
TWO
..................
......................
...........................
............................
CADE JUST GETS THE SHOULDER UP!
Graves calms himself for a moment before getting to his feet, delivering a hard kick to the ribs and flipping Cade over to his back as he locks in the Confession.
The Camel Clutch is locked in tight, Cade's back in absolute misery as Graves whispers at him to give in and confess his sins. Cade doesn't tap though, gritting his teeth as he slowly pulls himself towards the ropes. Inches away, he looks to grab them
GRAVES PULLS HIM BACK INTO THE MIDDLE OF THE RING!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Jackson Cade may well be in trouble here, the clutch is locked in tight and the man looks like he may well be fading from the sheer agony.
Cade indeed goes limp in the Reverends arms, Cole pulling up his arm up into the air as it drops
ONCE
Holt picks it up again
TWICE
Cole Holt picks it up again, lifting it up high before letting go
THR...NO! Jackson's arm stays aloft, fight coming back into the world champion as he begins to crawl his way towards the ropes, he's nearly there when suddenly Graves lets go
BEFORE SLAMMING HIS ENTIRE BODY WEIGHT INTO PERSEUS!
Cade screams out in pain as Graves does it once, twice, three times before standing above him. He makes the sign of the cross before leaping up again
INTO JACKSON CADE'S KNEES AS THE CHAMPION MANAGES TO FLIP HIMSELF OVER!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Graves staggered by those knees, Jackson managing to get to his feet as he ducks underneath a Lariat
HOSTILE DOWN! SUPERKICK OUT OF NOWHERE takes down Graves. The challenger looking out cold as Jackson hooks both legs
ONE
.................
...................
TWO
................
......................
...........................
COLE HOLT STOPS COUNTING
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: WHAT IN THE ABSOLUTE HELL! I told you that bastard was crooked, he's clearly on the Preservationist take.
MATT RUBY: Hey you don't know that BB, he could've just had a hand cramp is all.
Jackson notices Cole stopped counting and he's pissed. He gets to his feet as Holt feigns ignorance, Cade backing him into the corner with fire in his eyes, not noticing Graves in on his feet.
ROLLUP FROM OUT OF NOWHERE BY GRAVES. Colt Holt quickly drops down
ONE
.........
TWO
............
THR...Cade just kicks out of the three count.
MATT RUBY: I mean, is it such a bad idea to screw over a bastard?
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Glad to see your morale compass is still in tact Ruby.
Cade gets to his feet right into a hard headbutt before he's thrown to the ropes, as Graves grabs him on the rebound and nearly plants him through the ring with a mammoth Spinebuster. Graves covers, Holt quickly sliding down to count
ONE
...............
TWO
...................
THR....
COLE HOLT IS PULLED OUT OF THE RING!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: MILLS STANTON IS HERE AS HE KNOCKS COLE HOLT OUT!
MATT RUBY: Oh sure this is the justice you were talking about BB?
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Hey the head ref is here to preserve law and order and he's done just that.
Graves gets to his feet, angry at Holt getting knocked out but doesn't notice Cade getting up as he's rolled up from behind. Mills quickly sliding in to count
ONE
..............
TWO
..................
......................
Graves gets the shoulder up.
Both men get to their feet, fury in their eyes as they begin aswinging.
Lefts
Right
Uppercuts
Elbows
Knees
Both men unleashing everything they have onto one another, Graves manages to slip underneath a knee before rocking Cade with one of his own. He then grips Cade by the throat before slamming him down hard back first onto his knee with a brutal backbreaker.
Graves pulls Cade up, turning him around before nearly throwing him through the turnbuckles with a huge Release German as the Reverend looks to finish Purging the World Champion
Graves pulls him to his feet, RUNNING POWER...NO! Cade rocks him with an elbow before lifting him up high
MASTER KEY BRAINBUSTTTAAHHH!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: The champion has the challenger rocked, Cade heading up to the top as Perseus looks to fly
SCREAMING EEEAAGGGLLLLE!! Picture Perfect Elbow drop to the heart of Ezekial Graves.
Graves staggers to his feet into a
KICK
WHAM
DO THE RIGHT THING!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: The pedigree hits hard, that has to be it but Cade isn't covering. He's heading to the corner...oh no.
MATT RUBY: Bit of police b
rutality incoming, shouldn't expect anything less from a bastard like Cade.
The crowd roar as Cade looks furious, his body shaking as he sizes up the slowly standing Graves, the Reverend still on both knees as he sprints forward
50 CALIBER...NO! Graves moves out of the way just in time, Cade turning around
GOOZLE
THE
FINAL
JUDGEMENT!
Ring Shaking Chokeslam nearly plants Jackson Cade through the mat, Graves collapsing onto him as Mills begins to count
ONE
..............
..................
TWO
...................
...................
..........................
THREE!!!!!
MATT RUBY: YES! FINALLY! FINALLY! We have a worthy world champion as that scum bastard Jackson Cade has been dethroned. All hail the great Reverend Ezekial Graves.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: He needed every trick in the book here but yes, Jackson Cade has fallen. The Preservationists finally have the world championship once again as the new OSW World Champion is Ezekial Graves.
Footprints in the Sand
The ring is chaos.
Ezekiel Graves stands tall, the World Championship now clenched in his hands.
Jackson Cade lies broken, the weight of loss heavier than the bruises on his body.
As Graves disappears up the ramp, the arena is stunned.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: I’m speechless, Matt.
MATT RUBY: I’m in awe of the Lord’s work, BB.
Then the lights shift.
Jasper Redgrave steps onto the stage. No music. No smirk. Just purpose.
MATT RUBY: Yes! I almost forget! It’s time, BB, it’s time!
“No excuses now, Little Eagle. The title’s gone. You’ve got nothing left. So it’s time you learned the truth.”
He reaches the ring.
“I told you… when the time came, I’d tell the world who the footprint belonged to.”
Redgrave steps in the ring, but before he can speak again, another man has entered the ring.
George Cade.
“Leave my fucking family alone!” George shouts, jabbing a finger at Redgrave. “What the hell do you even want out of all this?”
Redgrave doesn’t answer.
Jackson pulls himself up, rage simmering. “Dad, what the fuck are you doing here?”
George turns to him, eyes hard, almost desperate to get a Redgrave, who stands smirking. “Trying to stop a mistake.”
REDGRAVE SPINS JACKSON AROUND—
BUT CADE WAS READY! RIGHT HAND TO REDGRAVE!
LEFT HAND—NO!
JACKSON CADE STOPS IN HIS TRACKS, PAIN IN HIS EYES!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Son of a bitch!
GEORGE CADE HAS LOW BLOWED HIS OWN GODDAMNED SON!
The champion drops. Gasping. George Cade looks down at his son with rage behind his eyes before reaching out his hand.
TO JASPER REDGRAVE!
Redgrave kneels beside Jackson Cade, smiling wide. George plants his giant boot on his son’s chest.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: That’s the damn boot from the grave!
MATT RUBY: It’s been George Cade all along!?
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: That’s why the kid hasn’t said anything. He wanted to confront his father himself! This is sickening!
Redgrave pats the boot embedding itself in Jackson’s chest.
“You lost your daddy. You lost your title. Soon, you’ll lose your Seekers. The Preservationists only grow stronger. And I’ve got a new manager. With George Cade by my side, you are utterly, and truly, fucked.”
Redgrave stands up, shaking hands with George Cade.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: As a father, I think George Cade is a piece of…
MATT RUBY: Diamond, BB! He’s a diamond!
Redgrave and George look down at Jackson as Redgrave scans the crowd.
“If Jackson Cade can’t even hold his own family together… why should anyone else follow him?”
The pair leave, the former World Champion down and out on the mat, with perhaps just the faintest tear in his eye.
Cut.
Then
Somewhere — Location Classified
A long, mahogany table gleamed under a crystalline chandelier, the faint clink of glasses and shuffling of expensive cufflinks the only sounds in the room.
Many men sat in high-backed chairs — businessmen, tycoons, titans of influence and silent kings of the underworld. Their suits were immaculate. Some of their faces aged by power, not time. Some not aged at all.
And at the head of the table, sat Cronus — silent, composed, the kind of man whose presence commanded respect without a word spoken.
Next to him, arms folded, sat Fernicus Foley, the enigma in a tailored plum suit. His eyes gleamed with a knowing sort of arrogance — the kind earned from keeping secrets no one else dared carry.
Cronus leaned forward, fingers interlaced.
“Where do we stand?”
The question wasn’t casual. It was calculated.
Fernicus offered a small smile, calm and precise.
“It’s been built,” he said plainly. “We’re nearing the start of Phase Two. Final calibrations are underway.”
A low murmur spread around the table. The air shifted — excitement laced with dread.
One man adjusted his tie nervously. Another simply nodded.
Cronus didn’t blink.
“Then the time is almost upon us.”
He looked across the table, to every man — and in doing so, seemed to look through them.
“Ready yourselves. And your families.” His voice was grave. “Everything changes the moment we pull the curtain back. The now is upon us.”
A long silence followed. No one challenged him. No one dared.
Then Fernicus raised his glass.
“To Phase Two.”
The others slowly, silently followed suit.
Glasses clinked in unison.
The camera pulled back…
…And the door shut.
Cut.
The Newest Sunbeam
The camera flies through the curtain and rushes down the backstage hallway, weaving past production crates and security personnel until it stops just outside the locker room labeled:
SUNSHINE CLUB – Authorized Access Only
(Complete with crudely drawn sunbeams and a little smiley face… unsettlingly off-center.)
Standing just outside the door, arms swaying and rocking slightly on his heels, is none other than Deanie Hungy.
Wearing mismatched socks, a crumpled “I 
Arcadia” hoodie, and a proud grin on his face, Deanie looks like a child who just found out he might get to ride shotgun.
He stands awkwardly still, then knocks three times—each knock sounding like it might hurt his own knuckles.
MATT RUBY: Not this bloody idiot.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Give the kid a shot... he's adorable.
“Helloooooo? Sunshine people? It’s me, Deanie! I’m ready for my job interview! I brought my own glue stick!”
Just then, Scott Sterling, the OSW Commissioner in a sharp three-piece suit and a perpetual state of irritation, rounds the corner with two security guards in tow.
Sterling immediately freezes and points an accusing finger.
“YOU AGAIN?”
Deanie turns, waving excitedly. “Hullo, Mister Scotty!”
MATT RUBY: YEAH! Get rid of him Sterling!
Sterling groans, rubbing his temples. “Why is this man-child always in the building?! He’s not contracted! He’s not cleared! He’s not even wearing shoes!”
Deanie looks down, suddenly startled. “Oh no! My feet are naked again!”
Before the guards can approach, the door to the Sunshine Club swings open with a loud creak, revealing—
Mister Smile.
Large. Looming. Scowling as always.
His eyes lock onto Sterling. His lip never curls, but the intensity in his furrowed brow makes even the guards stop dead in their tracks.
“He works for us now,” Smile says, voice deep and final. “Go fetch us coffee.”
MATT RUBY: Hm. Maybe this kid is alright after all?
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: They're taking advantage of him, Ruby! They're using his.. uh...
MATT RUBY: Simple?
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Yes. They're using his simple nature against him.
Sterling blinks. “Excuse me?”
Smile takes a step forward. No further explanation. Just pressure.
Sterling swallows hard and backs off with a muttered, “Fine…”
Deanie claps his hands excitedly, bouncing in place.
“YAAAY! I GOT A JOB!”
He sticks his tongue out at Sterling.
“Pbbbbbbbbbbt! Told you my mummy said I was special!”
And with that, Deanie sprints down the hallway, arms flailing, yelling something about how he’s gonna be Employee of the Month.
Mister Smile watches him go, deadpan.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: This isn't good.
Still not smiling.
Fade out.
The lights go dim as the strings of My Hero by Man with a mission begin swelling, When the drums kick lights brighten up the stage revealing the intent stare of Wolf Fang Ayame. She begins walking down to the ring staring down what she considers her hunting grounds. As she reaches the ring side she begins going from the floor to starting to climb up to the turnbuckle. Ending when she's staring out around the arena.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Wolf Fang Ayame is our first entrant! What an honour.
MATT RUBY: For now... but who's her opponent?
She lifts up her hood with wolf ears on it and looks up to the sky releasing a howl. Before hopping down from the top to the ring and returning to the corner in a crouched ready to strike position.
The sound of dirt being shucked from grave to ground echoes throughout the arena.
Suddenly, the piano keys ominously pang before smoke fills the entrance ramp. Gravedigger steps out onto the stage just as the lyrics really kick in, with his arms spread, his head lowered and a shovel in his right hand.
He walks slowly to the ring, not making eye contact with anyone before rolling under the bottom rope and sitting in the corner.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Of all the people to kick off Lambs to the Slaughter, we’re starting with two dangerous individuals with a ton of history—Wolf Fang Ayame and Gravedigger!
MATT RUBY: You’ve got the apex predator of the skies versus the unrelenting force of the underworld. The Dragon Princess vs. the Valkyrie. This one’s going to set the tone for absolute carnage tonight.
DING DING DING!
Ayame wastes no time. She charges forward with feral precision, launching a low dropkick to Gravedigger’s left knee. He stumbles—but not for long. As Ayame bounces off the ropes for another strike, Gravedigger barrels forward—
DROP DEAD JAWBREAKER!
A brutal leaping knee stuns Ayame mid-sprint and sends her crashing to the mat!
MATT RUBY: Damn! That might’ve knocked a fang loose!
Gravedigger drags her up by the collar, slamming her back-first into the corner before unleashing a flurry of stiff forearms to the jaw. He yanks her forward—
CREEPING DEATH!
NO! Ayame wriggles free, pushing him backwards into the corner and springing to the second rope—
ON THE HUNT!
A vicious corner Enziguri connects to the back of Gravedigger’s skull! The big man stumbles, dazed, falling to the canvas as Ayame lets out a wild howl that electrifies the crowd.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: The Dragoness is in full pursuit now!
She darts up the turnbuckle—
HEAVEN’S HOWL!
Diving double knees to a kneeling Gravedigger! He drops, flattened to the mat, and Ayame goes for the cover—
ONE…
TWO..
KICKOUT!
Gravedigger powers out, snarling. Ayame kips up—only to be caught by the throat mid-motion!
ODE TO TOMBSTONE!
NO—she slips out the back and lands on her feet. Quick spin—
TAIL STRIKE!
The hip attack knocks Gravedigger into the ropes. He rebounds with fury—
BULLHAMMER! SHOVEL READY!
Ayame’s head whips to the side from the bull-like elbow! She drops, clutching her temple..
GRAVEL-POUNDER!
He mounts her on the mat, raining down heavy forearm after forearm. The ref can’t stop it—it’s Anything Goes!
MATT RUBY: She’s getting pounded into the canvas! This isn’t wrestling—it’s a damn exorcism! I just wish I was the one doing the pounding!
Gravedigger finally stands, arms wide, calling for judgment. Ayame stirs, crawling toward the ropes, blood trickling from her brow.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: She’s not done yet... but she’s hanging on by a thread.
BUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!
MATT RUBY: And here comes the next lamb to join the fray!
As Lux Aeterna fills the arena, the lights fade to a haunting glow. Anton Savor walks down the aisle, his gaze fixed ahead, exuding an air of mystery and confidence.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: It’s Anton Savor! The Lord High Emperor of Sustenance himself! And let’s not forget, he and Gravedigger are allies—preservationists cut from the same bone-saw.
Anton Savor slides into the ring, eyes locked on the fallen Wolf. He yells "Bon Appétit!" before charging forward—
CRÈME BRÛLÉE!
A brutal superkick to Ayame’s jaw snaps her head back like a whip! She crumples, and Gravedigger scoops her up, holding her in place—
FLAMBÉ!
A flurry of knife-edge chops from Anton light up Ayame’s chest, each one punctuated by a final spinning back elbow that sends her reeling into Gravedigger’s arms—
ODE TO TOMBSTONE!
This time it lands—Ayame is spiked into the canvas like a soul dragged to the underworld!
MATT RUBY: That’s it! This Seeker is done for!
Anton, however, isn’t done. He drops to the mat and locks in—
GASTRONOMY GUILLOTINE!
The guillotine choke is in deep! Ayame’s legs kick wildly as Gravedigger leans down and mocks her with a slow, drawn-out count—1… 2… before slapping the mat. Anton kicks her off, rolling her away.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: This is a mugging! We need a Seeker out here now, dangit!
Gravedigger lifts her limp form, nods to Savor, who scoops her up—
FINAL COURSE!
A devastating GTS from Savor folds Ayame like a broken dish. She sprawls to the mat, motionless.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: She’s not just down. She’s cooked. Stick a fork in her guys, she’s done. End this nightmare.
The preservationists stand tall, side by side, above the wreckage of the Wolf.
BUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!
The sounds of a radio tuning echo throughout the arena as the lights dim. As the radio settles on the bouncy carnival stylings of his theme song, a single spotlight shines atop the ramp, and Klaus Way steps into it. "Welcome to the Freak Show! Let us show you the Way!" rings out, followed by the creepy laugh "Ha ha hee ha ha ha". As the song kicks in fully, the house lights blare on to show an assortment of Klaus' freaks following him to the ring and showing their tricks or freakish natures. .
MATT RUBY: Oh, yes… it’s Klaus Way! The Ringmaster General of the Preservationists is here!
Klaus slinks into the ring, theatrically tossing a top hat into the crowd. “Roll up! Roll up!” he shouts, skipping toward Ayame with eerie delight.
CIRQUE DOULEUR!
A stormbreaker plants Ayame to the mat with twisted showmanship. Gravedigger and Savor watch on as Klaus mockingly claps above her.
Ayame rolls to her knees, defiant despite the beating. She roars and lunges—kicking at Klaus, elbowing Savor, stunning Gravedigger with a spinning heel kick—
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: SHE’S STILL FIGHTING! THE DRAGON STILL HAS FIRE!
Anton charges—Ayame ducks—
CRÈME BRÛLÉE TO GRAVEDIGGER!!!
The chef takes out his ally! Gravedigger crashes to the mat as Ayame escapes, bloodied but roaring defiantly!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: SHE’S STANDING TALL! FOR NOW—WAIT! WHO THE HELL—
CRACK!!!
A steel chair slams across Ayame’s back! A second shot to the head! It’s..
ECLIPSE!
The wife of Gravedigger has stormed the ring, chair in hand, beating Ayame into the mat.
Blood pours from her forehead as Eclipse tosses the chair aside, smiling from ear to ear as her husband crawls over, hooking the leg…
ONE…
TWO…
THREE!
Wolf Fang Ayame has been Eliminated.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: DAMMIT! SHE'S OUT! SHE’S ELIMINATED! This is a joke!!
The Preservationists rise, Eclipse watching with a grin as she rolls out of the ring, and Wolf Fang Ayame is dragged from it by referees, her body broken but her spirit never crushed.
MATT RUBY: Thank God that’s over. I thought for a second she might cause an upset.
BUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!
The lights drop in Olympus, and we hear the rattling of chains and on then...
“I will stay and fight As long as I'm alive”
-Silence- “And Kill ‘Till I Die”
-Beat-
And a spotlight is thrown on the center of the stage revealing Harold Attano light, “I’M A DEADMAN WALKING”!
Dead Man Walking by WarHall picks up as The Arcadian Ghost begins to make his way to the ring as the song continues to blare in the background, his gait is deliberate, eyes filled with purpose, as the only man in the spotlight is Nobody himself.
“And Kill ‘Till I Die.”
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Are you kidding me?! It’s Harold Attano! Arcadia’s Ghost is stepping into hell!
MATT RUBY: One Seeker down—another walks in. Harold’s not gonna survive this, not even he can.
Harold slides into the ring like a shadow. Klaus rushes him—
HEADSHOT!
Superkick drops the Ringmaster where he stands!
Savor charges—
DIDN’T SEE IT COMING!
A hidden blade elbow wipes the smug grin off the Chef’s face!
Gravedigger steps in to stop him—
KNEE CAP!
A shotgun dropkick to the knee staggers the Valkyrie. Harold wastes no time—
CODE OF SILENCE!
Bulldog choke on the big man! Gravedigger gasps as Harold chokes him out mid-ring!
MATT RUBY: This is madness! He’s taking them all on!
Savor clubs him from behind, finally breaking the hold. Klaus and Savor stomp Harold to the mat, but he throws wild elbows, fighting back to his feet! He grabs Savor’s arm—
ARMBREAKER!
The Chef screams in agony!
Klaus rushes with a knee as Attano rises from the canvas—
NOPE!
Harold sidesteps and Klaus hits nothing but ropes! The crowd is losing it!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: He’s standing alone against three men—and he’s not backing down!
SPEEEAAARRRRR!!
The numbers finally catch up. Gravedigger, recovered, spears Harold into the corner. Klaus grabs his him—
BIZARRO!!
SO MUCH UNPRIETTER! SURELY THAT’S IT!
Pin attempt—
ONE…
TWO…
THREE!
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Harold kicks out at 2.9 repeating!
BUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Surely this can only get better for Attano. There has to be a Seeker coming.
Alkaline by Sleep Token echoes over Olympus. At the same time, a yellow cloud builds at the entrance when we hear the sound of a cell door swinging open as the music picks up and then, “Ooh, let's talk about chemistry”! Nox steps from the gaseous cloud and walks with purpose to the ring, stopping on the apron to wipe his feet before crossing the threshold of combat he's unwavering as he awaits the bell to start his contest.
MATT RUBY: Oh yes! Oh yes!… it’s Nox! The Arcadian Chemist! The Preservationist nightmare is complete!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: This man is pure terror in a containment suit. And now it’s four-on-one. This has to be a fix!
He steps through the ropes, tilts his head toward Harold—and releases a burst of violet vapor into the air.
“Breathe it in.”
Gravedigger drags Harold to his knees—
GET OVER HERE!
Nox yanks Harold in with a brutal short-arm clothesline! The crowd gasps as Harold's body crumples from the impact.
Anton pulls him up and throws Harold into Nox—
CHEMICAL REACTION!
A Fisherman’s Brainbuster spikes Harold into the mat! Klaus is cackling as he leaps into the air—
DOUBLE FOOT STOMP!
MATT RUBY: This is just savagery. I love it!
Nox now signals the others to hold Harold up.
SCHRODINGER’S SPINE!
Nox hits three backbreakers in a row—and then keeps going. Four. Five. Six.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: THAT’S A MAN WITH A BROKEN BACK GOD DAMNIT! STOP THIS! STOP THIS NOW!
Nox drops Nobody on the canvas and climbs into position.
OXYGEN DEPRIVATION CHAMBER!
Nox locks in the Steiner Recliner and clamps his hands over Harold’s nose and mouth. Harold thrashes, fading fast.
MATT RUBY: He’s going out! He’s going limp!
The ref doesn’t stop it—not until he’s unconscious or unresponsive.
BUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!
The horns of O'Death sound loudly into the arena.
Immediately, the arena is thrust into darkness as smoke fills the entrance ramp. Purple flashing lights adorn the entrance area as Tombstone slowly steps out into the mist.
"Now, what is this I can see, with ice cold hands, taking hold of me..."
The looming figure of the Ferryman now stands with smoke drifting around him. He looks down before making a slow paced walk to the ring. Once there, he walks carefully up the ring steps, across the apron and steps over the top rope, entering the ring.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Business is about to pick up! That’s Tombstone! And if you think the Preservationists are scared—you’d be right!
He stands alone across from Nox, Klaus, Savor, and Gravedigger. The tension is molten.
MATT RUBY: Don’t be a fool, Tombstone. Join them. Be smart. Be on the winning side!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Don’t listen to him! These fans believe in you! This is your moment! This is your redemption!
The Preservationists smirk—until Tombstone raises a single hand and levels it toward Gravedigger.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: YES! YES! HE'S CHOOSING A SIDE! HE’S CHOOSING JUSTICE!
THE FERRYMAN’S KNOCK!
A devastating series of thrusting finger uppercuts rocks Gravedigger! Klaus rushes—
YOU CAN’T RUN FROM THE FERRYMAN!
A thunderous Bossman Slam lays the Ringmaster flat!
Anton Savor tries to get the jump—
A SOUL TO CARRY!
Tombstone hoists him into a brutal bearhug and paces the ring as Savor screams!
Nox sprints toward him—
SOUL TAKER!
A heartpunch stops the Chemist cold in his tracks!
MATT RUBY: WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! THIS IS INSANITY!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: THIS IS GLORIOUS!
Tombstone turns to Klaus, who’s barely rising—
FOR WHOM THE BELL TOLLS!
Falling chokeslam to the knees! Klaus is OUT!
Tombstone drops down—
ONE…
TWO..
THREE!
Klaus Way has been eliminated!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: HE DID IT! HE ELIMINATED KLAUS WAY! THE FANS ARE ON THEIR FEET!
MATT RUBY: You idiot. You absolute idiot.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: He’s no idiot, Matt—he’s the Already Dead, and he just gave The Seekers new life in this match!
BUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!
“WHY DO I CALL MYSELF A JUGGALO?”
The opening to Raw Deal blares through the arena speakers as Hatchet walks onto the stage, a bottle of faygo in hand. He smirks, marching down the ramp and shaking up the soda before spraying it haphazardly onto the crowd! He chucks the empty bottle over his shoulder..
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: That’s Hatchet! The Juggalo is in the building!
MATT RUBY: Oh great, just what we needed—another lunatic with facepaint and no impulse control.
Hatchet storms the ring, steel chain wrapped around one fist..
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Hatchet is a Seeker through and through, and he’s here to even the odds!
Tombstone and Gravedigger are brawling in the corner, fists flying like freight trains. Tombstone shoves Gravedigger back and yells—
“I killed Mortis,” he growls. “You should’ve known that.”
MATT RUBY: WHAT?!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: WHAT DID HE JUST SAY?!
Gravedigger’s eyes go wide. He roars with fury, tackling Tombstone into the turnbuckle, hammering fists into his midsection.
MATT RUBY: This isn’t a match anymore. This is vengeance!
Meanwhile, Hatchet dives into the chaos—
WIG SPLIT!
A headbutt knocks Nox loopy! He spins—
MASSIVE CLOTHESLINE! He quickly hops up to the top rope…
CHICKEN HUNTIN’!
A massive diving leg drop across the neck of Anton Savor as he made his way to his feet!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Hatchet is cleaning house!
But chaos swirls everywhere—Tombstone and Gravedigger are rolling out of the ring, tearing into each other with elbows and fury.
Nox slithers back into the ring and stalks Harold Attano, who has just barely come to—
NOX OUT!
Reverse Full Nelson Bomb!
Hands over nose and mouth! Harold is out—
ONE…
TWO…
THREE!
Harold Attano has been eliminated!
MATT RUBY: Harold Attano has been eliminated! Thank Zeus for that.
Hatchet sees it and charges Nox, launching fists and fury!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: It’s a complete free-for-all now! Preservationists, Seekers, rivals, and monsters—no one’s safe!
BUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!
The lights turn out as heavy chords are heard. Thin streams of light flickering before a tight spotlight is put on one solitary man with his head down. The Kid flicks his eyes upwards, beginning to sprint forward as he raises the Kingdom Blade high….
And then stops running to the immense boos of the crowd. ‘All Black’ begins to play as the Kid places the blade to one side.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: And here comes Destructo! The Anti-Hero of Arcadia has arrived, and business is about to get even more brutal! He has a huge problem with Nox, for obvious reasons. The man who killed his parents remains in this thing.
Destructo sprints to the ring, eyes locked not on Nox—but on Hatchet.
MATT RUBY: Wait a minute—he’s not going after Nox! He’s going for Hatchet! What!?
Destructo launches into Hatchet like a missile, tackling him to the canvas and unloading a flurry of fists.
ALL MY RAGE!
A violent whirlwind of strikes ends with a backflip kick to Hatchet’s jaw, sending the Juggalo reeling. Destructo springs off the ropes—
SEE NO EVIL!
A brutal Shining Wizard crushes Hatchet’s face!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Destructo is unhinged! These two might be on the same side, but this is personal! I know they don’t trust each other but this doesn’t make any sense.
Hatchet staggers to his feet—
NO JUSTICE!
Omega Driver plants Hatchet into the mat with reckless velocity!
Destructo stands over him, seething, before turning his head. His gaze locks onto Nox.
MATT RUBY: Uh-oh. We know that look.
Destructo stalks toward Nox, who stands smirking behind his gas mask. The two circle.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: This is no longer about alliances. This is revenge!
Destructo explodes forward—Nox tries to retreat—but Destructo grabs him—
BROKEN SCALES!
Spinning Uranage slams Nox! Destructo mounts him and begins hammering wild strikes down onto the Chemist!
MATT RUBY: He’s trying to tear his head off!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: He’s fighting for every life Nox ever ruined!
The crowd is on fire as Destructo rains chaos on the man who took everything from him.
BUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!
"You've Got A Friend In Me" by Randy Newman hits to a tremendous ovation from the sold out crowd.
Green flashing lights adorn the entrance as Felix Foley comes bounding out from the entrance way, waving to the crowd with a large smile on his face. He nods in agreement with the music before slapping hands with all fans nearby.
With that only making him smile more, he theatrically stomps up the steps to the ring and steps inside, ready to give it his best shot.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Here comes Felix Foley! The Puppeteer is entering the fray!
MATT RUBY: Another Seeker? And one with a serious bone to pick with Nox!
Foley wastes no time. He barrels down the ramp and slides into the ring just as Destructo yanks Nox to his feet and tosses him into the corner.
FELIX FOLEY’S CORNER!
Stomps! Repeated corner stomps! Foley is walking Nox dry!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Foley’s unloading all that pent-up fury!
Destructo nods and grabs Nox from behind—
NO JUSTICE!
Omega Driver spikes Nox!
Foley shouts, “Finish him, kid!”—
ALL MY RAGE!
Destructo blitzes Nox with another brutal combo. He hits the ropes—
SHINING WIZARD!
Cover…
ONE…
TWO…
THREE!
Nox has been eliminated!
MATT RUBY: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! That little brat!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Listen to this place! It’s unglued!
Destructo stands, breathing heavy, when Hatchet charges back into frame. Foley quickly jumps between them.
“ENOUGH! We’re on the same side! We need to work together!”
The crowd buzzes with tension…
Destructo and Hatchet glance at each other—
Then simultaneously—
DOUBLE CLOTHESLINE!
They flatten Foley!
MATT RUBY: HA! That’s what happens when you try to be the voice of reason in a madhouse!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Come on, guys! He was trying to unify them!
BUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!
The guitar riff of the the Pretender begins to play, as red, white and blue lights descend on the stage, revealing Captain Arcadia as the chorus hits.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Here he comes! Captain Arcadia! You want Seeker pride? You’re looking at it!
Captain Arcadia storms the ring, fists clenched, fury in his eyes. He charges in and shoves both Hatchet and Destructo hard, barking something inaudible but furious.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: He’s not happy. You don’t knock down a guy like Foley and expect to get a pass!
MATT RUBY: More dissension in the Seekers is fine by me!
Destructo smirks. Hatchet tilts his head. Captain Arcadia raises a finger—
And Destructo DECKS him with a forearm!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Oh no!
Hatchet joins in, pounding on Arcadia with boots and fists. The two pummel the captain into the corner.
PONY DOWN! from Hatchet! A brutal side slam backbreaker leaves Arcadia gasping!
Destructo pulls him back to his feet as if this is some kind of competition.
BROKEN SCALES! from Destructo! The spinning Uranage drops the Captain in a heap.
They don’t stop. Hatchet lifts Arcadia—
SELF-TITLED! Fireman’s carry stunner from Hatchet!
Arcadia flops to the mat, stunned. Destructo scales the turnbuckle—
YOUR FINAL BREATH!
Shooting star Kneedrop! Right to Arcadia’s ribs!
MATT RUBY: I don’t believe it, but I bloody love it! They just mauled him. Foley tried to stop them—and now Arcadia pays the price!
The chaos in the ring is interrupted by the roaring crowd—
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Meanwhile—look outside the ring! Gravedigger and Tombstone haven’t stopped fighting!
They’re tearing through the crowd! Tombstone swings a trash can lid—CLANG!—right across Gravedigger’s skull! Gravedigger retaliates, grabbing a fan’s chair and slamming it across Tombstone’s skull!
MATT RUBY: This is getting out of hand! Gravedigger might get hurt.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Screw Gravedigger! WHAT about the fans!?
They brawl up the stairs, out through the crowd, and into the backstage corridors.
Tombstone grabs a nearby pallet, lifting it above his head…
KICK TO THE GUT!
Gravedigger stops him dead, forcing him to drop it. He pulls The Already Dead in close, positioning himself over the wooden pallet.
NEVERMORE!!
EVENFLOW DDT!
STRAIGHT ON THE FUCKING PALLET!!!
Wooden splinters everywhere.
BUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!
"Please allow me to introduce myself.."
"I'm a man of wealth, and taste.."
The arena falls into darkness. A single stage light beams down on the entrance way as it begins to fill with a thick fog. "Sympathy for The Devil" by The Rolling Stones begins hammering the sound system and the fog slowly begins to part until the silhouette of a man stands just behind the spot light. The silhouette takes full form as "The Artist" Jasper Redgrave steps into the light. The crowd of Arcadians stare in awe at the killer as he bends at the knees suddenly and smacks the stage with his right hand.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Here comes The Killer King.
Redgrave hits the ring like a wrecking ball. Hatchet charges at him—
COLLAGE OF VIOLENCE!
A brutal superkick sends Hatchet into the ropes—on the rebound—
HIGH VELOCITY SPINNING BACK ELBOW! Hatchet drops like a puppet with cut strings.
Destructo swings at Redgrave, but Jasper ducks and counters—
BLOOD ON THE CANVAS!
Rope-hung DDT drives Destructo into the mat!
Captain Arcadia, groggy but furious, sees the chaos and seizes his moment. He watches as Anton Savor gets back to his feet and stuns him with a spear, then turns to Big Boot Felix Foley out of the ring!
MATT RUBY: The Captain is BACK! Redemption could be on the way! He’s finally realized you can’t please everyone!
Arcadia turns to face Redgrave—
THE BRUSH STROKE!
A brutal forward Russian Legsweep lays Arcadia OUT!
ONE…
TWO…
THREE!
Captain Arcadia has been eliminated!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Captain Arcadia is eliminated just like that!
MATT RUBY: Hahahaha! BYE!
Redgrave turns back to Destructo, stalking him like a predator. Destructo tries to rise—
PORTRAIT OF A KILLER!
Nightmare Pendulum connects with bone-crunching impact!
ONE…
TWO…
THREE!
Destructo has been eliminated!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Destructo is gone! The Killer King is painting the canvas red with eliminations!
MATT RUBY: Two bodies down in mere seconds. This man is a monster in human skin!
Just then, we return backstage to find Tombstone and Gravedigger surrounded in the carnage of a wrecked table.
BUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!
The guitar to Seether's "Nobody Praying for Me" strums somberly out the arena's speakers, causing the vicinity to shut off all its lights. While the guitar plays its song, the lyrics proceed to sing out along with it.
"I'm a whisper lost upon wind,
I'm the ember that'll burn you down,
I'm the water that'll drown you,
I'm a star that's just a black hole now."
As these words ring out, a lone spotlight turns on and begins to search around the arena for someone out in the crowd. That's when the drums hit.
"I'm a terrifying danger,
I'm a fruit decaying on the ground,
I'm a swallower of anger,
I'm the tree that falls that makes no sound...
...I make no sound."
Just before the chorus hits, the spotlight finds its mark by the crowd entrance, where the Night stands, wielding his bat in both hands. The Enigma proceeds to make his way to the ring once the music comes to life, passing by the rather divided crowd without paying them any mind.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Folks, The Night has just made his way out but we’re sticking with this backstage brawl!
MATT RUBY: We’re hoping for the end of Tombstone, no matter how impossible.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Speak for yourself!
Tombstone shoves Gravedigger into a stack of road cases. Gravedigger rams him into a metal scaffolding. Back and forth, back and forth.
They climb.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: No! No! Don’t do this!
Both men, perched ten feet above concrete—
They’re wobbling on the scaffold.
Gravedigger grabs Tombstone by the throat.
Tombstone grabs Gravedigger by his.
DOUBLE CHOKESLAM!!!
They crash through the scaffolding and plummet to the floor below!
MATT RUBY: GOOD LORD! THEY MIGHT BE… WAIT, THEY CAN’T DIE!!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: BUT YOU BET YOUR ASS THEY’RE BROKEN IN HALF!
Medics rush the scene. Referees are waving their arms.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Referees are calling it—they’re both out! DOUBLE ELIMINATION!
Tombstone has been eliminated.
Gravedigger has been eliminated.
BUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!
"Hmmmmmm, Hmmmmmm"
The hum of 'Dogs of War' plays out through the speakers as the arena is bathed in red lights. A spotlight searches the crowd, finally landing on Drewitt, the Pilgrim walking in from a back entrance. The crowd parts in the middle, giving Drewitt the room he deserves as he marches towards the ring, stepping over the barricade and over the top rope before heading to his corner.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Here comes Drewitt! The Explorer, the Pilgrim, War itself—he’s here! He’s had a rough night tonight, but a Lambs win could make it better,
Redgrave and The Night, already exchanging stiff shots in the center of the ring, barely notice until Drewitt storms in like a battering ram!
WAR CRY!
A thunderous discus clothesline levels Redgrave!
SIGHTSEER!
The Alabama Slam plants The Night!
Hatchet gets to his feet just to get—
DESOLATION!
A devastating claymore kick flips him inside out!
Felix Foley stumbles in, still groggy from earlier—
AFTERMATH!
Orange Crush Bomb! Drewitt stacks him…
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
—Foley kicks out!
MATT RUBY: Drewitt is on fire! He’s wrecking everyone in sight! Hell hath no fury like a Drewitt scorned.
But Anton Savor sneaks up behind and chop blocks the back of Drewitt’s knee! Drewitt stumbles—
FLAMBÉ!
Rapid-fire chops and a spinning elbow! Savor dives into the cover and hooks the leg!
ONE!
TWO!
—NO!
Drewitt powers out!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: That was close! We’ve had 8 eliminations so far—6 competitors remain in the match—and 6 still to go!
MATT RUBY: Speaking of which, here’s that buzzer!
BUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!
Members of the uprising roll a red carpet out for Narcissa as TGIF plays throughout the arena.
When "The world is run by maniacs" is sung, she nods as a reminder why she does all this, she then slowly walks the ramp like a catwalk before she slides into the ring ready to fight.
MATT RUBY: Oh yes! Here she comes and she means trouble—real trouble! It's Narcissa Balenciaga!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: The Leader of the Uprising. The Preservationist’s wildcard. She’s small, she’s fast, and she’s dangerous. You can’t trust this jezebel at all!
Narcissa rushes down the ramp with something glinting in her hand—
A STEEL CHAIR!
She slides into the ring and CRACK!—drives it straight into the spine of Drewitt!
MATT RUBY: Steel to the back! That’s how you stop a war in his tracks!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Drewitt might need a map after that one. He’s not gonna be exploring anything but his unconsciousness.
But as Narcissa turns, steel still in hand, the crowd hushes—
The Night stands in front of her.
They lock eyes. There's weight in the silence between them. History. Secrets. Tension.
MATT RUBY: The hell is this? Didn’t she tell him something earlier? Something important?
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Whatever it was, it’s hanging heavy in the air right now.
Suddenly—
Hatchet blindsides Narcissa with a massive clothesline attempt—only for The Night to intercept! He yanks Hatchet down by the arm and throws him off!
At the same time, Redgrave comes for The Night, only for Narcissa to leap into his path with a flying forearm, knocking him sideways!
MATT RUBY: What the hell’s happening?! Are they fighting for each other or against each other?
Hatchet and Redgrave stumble to opposite corners. Narcissa and The Night stand tall again. The arena pulses as they stare… closer… and closer…
ROLL UP!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: NO WAY—NO WAY!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!!
Narcissa eliminates The Night! She fucking stole it!
MATT RUBY: SHE STOLE IT! SHE STOLE IT!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: That jezebel! What did I tell you Ruby!?
MATT RUBY: That secret she whispered? It might’ve been a kiss of death.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Nine down, six remain and we’ve still got five entries left!
BUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!
The iconic riff of Paramore's "That's What You Get" echoes throughout Olympus. Gemini walks out into the arena, a huge smile on her face. The Rogue feeds off the energy from her people. She prances down the aisle, her feet barely touching the ground. She slides into the ring and leaps onto the nearest turnbuckle, throwing a fist up in the air before pulling out a camera. Gemini uses it to take a selfie with the crowd behind her.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Oh boy, it's about to get messy! Here comes Gemini and she’ll have a bone to pick with Narcissa.
MATT RUBY: The Rogue herself is a liar herself, don’t forget that BB. She’s not a pleasant woman, though I’d be fine offering her a spanking for that.
Gemini sprints down the ramp at full speed, ignoring everyone else. She slides into the ring and launches herself at Narcissa, tackling her to the mat!
MATT RUBY: GIRL ON GIRL! GIRL ON GIRL!
They scrap wildly on the canvas, fists flying in a vicious flurry. Gemini shoves Narcissa off, bounces off the ropes—
THE LAST DANCE!
She walks the ropes, leaps—and Hurricanranna’s Narcissa hard into the mat!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Narcissa’s getting a front-row seat to Gemini’s rage and you need to drop drooling, you fool!
MATT RUBY: Leave me alone you fuddy duddy!!
Narcissa bails to the outside, trying to get distance, but Gemini chases her. Gemini throws Narcissa onto the commentary table, climbing up after her!
MATT RUBY: OH MY GOD, A FRONT ROW SEAT…
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: CALM YOURSELF RUBY!
Gemini grabs Narcissa by the hair—
LOW BLOW!
Narcissa strikes dirty, stunning Gemini. Without hesitation, Narcissa hooks her—
ROCK BOTTOM!!
ROCK BOTTOM THROUGH THE FUCKING ANNOUNCE TABLE—MATT RUBY MAY HAVE MESSED HIS PANTS!
MATT RUBY: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!
The table shatters under the impact, sending both women into a heap!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: GOOD GOD ALMIGHTY! They’re broken in half!
Back in the ring, Felix Foley sees an opening—Anton Savor staggered from earlier punishment. Foley whips him to the ropes—
THESE BOOTS WERE MADE FOR WALKIN’!
Running big boot plants Savor!
CUT THE STRINGS!
Double Arm DDT!
ONE…
TWO….
THREE!
Anton Savor has been eliminated!
MATT RUBY: Someone help my girls!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Are you serious? Foley just eliminated Savor and you’re worried about the carnage at our feet?
MATT RUBY: Someone has to care, BB! Are you okay darling?
Ruby helps Narcissa back to her feet.
Meanwhile, Drewitt, barely recovered from the chair assault earlier and tries to inside the ringe—
Narcissa takes the hand of Ruby and winks at him, sending him falling back into his chair with heart palpitations. Smirking, she forcibly snatches the chair BB was sat on and slides back into the ring…
She stalks Drewitt, measuring him—
CRACK!
A vile chair shot to the skull!
Drewitt drops to a knee, dazed. Narcissa pounces—
BLINDED BY LOVE!
She drives him into the mat with the eye-gouging STO!
She covers…
ONE…
TWO…
THREE!
Drewitt has been eliminated!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: What the hell is this woman made of?
MATT RUBY: Did you see how she looked at me, BB? I think I’m in love.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: We need an underpants change for Ruby, folks. Clean up on isle announce table.
BUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!
The cheerful, catchy opening of the Sunshine Club's theme song begins to play. A group of children from around Arcadia accompany the song, singing along to the chorus.
‘Mister Sunshine, shining all around.
Sunshine, never lets us down.…’
But it isn't Mister Sunshine who makes his way out..
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Oh no… oh God no. That’s Deanie Hungy!
MATT RUBY: He must’ve stolen Sunshine’s entrance!
Deanie Hungy charges down the ramp like a child chasing an ice cream truck, arms flailing, grinning wide, waving to every corner of the arena. The crowd goes absolutely nuts.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: This man is not a wrestler. He doesn’t belong here!
MATT RUBY: Shut up, Bronco! Let Deanie dream!
Deanie slides into the ring—nearly trips doing it—but pops up and sees Narcissa, the only person standing near him.
MATT RUBY: Oh boy, here we go! Look out Narcissa, he’s got those… well, those hands.
Deanie slaps Narcissa. Once. Then again. Weak, floppy slaps with the force of wet paper towels.
Narcissa glares at him, confused… and then shoves him flat onto his back.
But before she can do more damage—
GEMINI rolls her up!
ONE….
TWO….
Deanie breaks the pin!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: What the hell is he doing!?
Gemini stands up, completely bewildered. Deanie waves at her, proud of himself.
MATT RUBY: Awww, he thinks he helped.
Gemini tilts her head, gives him a gentle pat on the shoulder—AND THEN HEADBUTTS HIM RIGHT IN THE NOSE.
Deanie drops to his knees, crying out and clutching his face.
"Owwwie! Why'd ya do that?!" Gemini shakes her head, about to move—but stops cold.
A shadow falls behind her.
Mister Sunshine is in the ring.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Oh you’ve got to be kidding me…
MATT RUBY: YES! Sunshine’s here! The ray of twisted light we didn’t know we needed!
Gemini turns around—
“Does somebody need a hug?”
COVER ME IN SUNSHINE!
He wraps her in a crushing bear hug, smiling ear to ear as Gemini fights it… claws… and then slowly goes limp.
SHE’S OUT! SHE’S OUT! GEMINI IS UNCONCIOUS!
Sunshine tosses her aside brutally.
Gemini has been eliminated.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Gemini is out! Are you happy now?! This creep just used Deanie as bait!
MATT RUBY: I’m delighted. I told you, Sunshine always brings joy… and unconsciousness.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: This is disgusting. He’s manipulating that poor man.
MATT RUBY: Manipulating? He’s giving him a purpose!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: He’s giving him trauma, that’s what he’s giving him.
The ring now holds six: Hatchet, Felix Foley, Jasper Redgrave, Narcissa Balenciaga, Mister Sunshine… and yes, somehow, Deanie Hungy—curled up in the corner, still holding his nose.
BUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!
The telltale sound of El Mariachi Muerte's guitar strums out, accompanied by an array of trumpets announcing his arrival as Lucha by Metalachi sounds, bringing the fans to their feet to chant along with Lucha Muerte.
"Fight! Fight! Fight!"
The guitar and trumpet sounds build, colourful lights flash around Olympus as trumpeting Mariachis pour out into the entranceway. All lights culminate in a spotlight on the stage as El Mariachi Muerte appears, guitar in hand and a rose stem clenched between his teeth, which he spits out in order to sing. The Mariachi guard march with him, encouraging the fans to chant along.
MATT RUBY: Oh boy…
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: El Mariachi Muerte has arrived—and he looks like death itself. He’s mad…
MATT RUBY: And I’d say Sunshine dug his own grave.
The crowd is on their feet as he slides in and pounces on Mister Sunshine with a flurry of fists and fury!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: That’s for Gemini! You better believe this isn’t about wrestling anymore!
Sunshine tries to smile his way out of it, arms open for a hug—but Muerte isn’t in a forgiving mood. EMM dives in behind him…
THE LAST CARNIVÀLE!
Springboard Lungblower folds Sunshine in half!
Deanie Hungy crawls over, tugging at Muerte’s boot, trying to help his “friend”—
SLAP!
Muerte turns and Deanie slaps him in defense of Sunshine. Muerte slowly turns his head, eyes locked on Deanie.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Deanie… you poor, innocent soul…
EMM doesn’t strike him—he just stares, and the guilt crushes Deanie. He drops to his knees and starts crying again, sobbing uncontrollably as Sunshine rolls to the outside in a heap.
But from behind—
JASPER REDGRAVE!
The Killer King charges and spins Muerte around—
COLLAGE OF VIOLENCE! Superkick connects—NO! EMM dodges it and answers—
WHISKEY LULLABY!
Redgrave is hurled across the ring!
MATT RUBY: Ohhh now this is something! Killer King vs. Singing Death!
The two circle each other, like predators who smell blood.
Meanwhile, across the ring, Hatchet and Narcissa are trading heavy shots. Narcissa swings wildly—
DUCKED!
Hatchet hooks her—
SELF-TITLED! Fireman’s Carry Stunner!
ONE…
TWO…
THREE!
Narcissa has been eliminated!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Narcissa Balenciaga has been eliminated! The crowd loves it!
MATT RUBY: Damn it! My poor baby! She was doing so well! Do you think I should go offer her my help?
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Please do. Maybe she’ll take it and we’ll not have to see you out here anymore, you creep. Anyway, we’re down to five now—Hatchet, Foley, Redgrave, Mister Sunshine, and El Mariachi Muerte!
MATT RUBY: And Deanie Hungy.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: …I don’t count him.
BUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!
“Master of the Starr Park
Ruler of the world
Say Draco (Draco)
And the story shall be told.”
The upbeat intro to “A Draco Tale” belts into the arena, sending the fans wild with cheer. His theme, known to all of Arcadia for decades, brings smiles to the faces of all inside Olympus.
El Dragón Caído steps out from behind the curtain as fire shoots up into the air like dragon breath from the stage. He inhales the smoke and snorts it out before making his walk to the ring.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: El Dragón Caído!
MATT RUBY: Muerte just got his guardian angel… or maybe his dragon.
In the ring, Jasper Redgrave has just hit THE BRUSH STROKE on El Mariachi Muerte and hooks the leg—
ONE…
TWO…
NO!
El Dragón Caído dives in at the last possible moment, breaking the pin with a hard stomp to Redgrave’s spine!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: That’s friendship and fury. You think Caído was going to let Redgrave end Muerte like that? Not a chance.
Redgrave scrambles to his feet but is met with a roar from Caído—Dance with Dragons!
A rapid whip into a Mexican Destroyer! The ring explodes with energy!
The veteran luchador pops to his feet, snarling, eyes locked on Jasper Redgrave.
MATT RUBY: NOOOOO!!
Meanwhile, on the outside—Felix Foley has Mister Sunshine in a headlock, dragging him across the barricade.
Sunshine is flailing, trying to “hug” his way free, but Foley isn’t playing games.
FELIX FOLEY’S CORNER!
He hurls Sunshine into the barricade and stomps him repeatedly as the fans scream.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Foley is unloading years of frustration on that fake freak. No strings attached.
Back in the ring—
Hatchet eyes something… something small… something crying.
Deanie Hungy.
Deanie crawls along the apron, still clutching his nose, trying to escape the violence.
Hatchet starts grinning. A slow, villainous grin.
MATT RUBY: Not Deanie! Leave him alone you bully!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: He shouldn’t be out there! This is Sunshine’s fault!
Hatchet drops to his knees, stalking Deanie like a hyena. He starts taunting him.
“You got a raw deal, huh? You wanna play wrestling, little boy?” Deanie’s lip trembles. He backs away on all fours. “Let’s play…”
Hatchet reaches out—
Deanie screams and runs away, scampering around the outside of the ring like a terrified toddler, the crowd laughing and cheering for him in equal measure.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: I swear, if Hatchet lays a hand on that boy…
BUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!
MATT RUBY: That’s it! The final buzzer! All participants have entered! This war's about to reach its bloody crescendo!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Who’s the final soul to walk into this hell?
The arena plunges into darkness and a deep hum fills the air as the audience falls silent. A flickering red light pierces the shadows, illuminating Nero’s imposing silhouette. Shrouded in swirling fog, he strides forward with measured intent, his jacket glowing with neon red circuitry and his gauntlet pulsing like a glitching hologram.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: The final entrant has arrived—and it’s Nero! The Cyberhound of Arcadia is here to crash the whole damn system!
MATT RUBY: The Red Reboot. Seven remain… but only one will survive.
Nero bolts down the ramp with a steel chair already in hand, his red-and-black armor glinting under the lights. He doesn’t even slow as he leaps to the apron and springboards in—
CRACK!
Steel chair across the skull of Hatchet, sending the clown-faced brute stumbling backwards!
CRACK! Chair to Redgrave’s ribs!
CRACK! Chair to Felix Foley’s spine!
CRACK! Chair to Muerte’s knee!
The crowd roars as Nero stands tall, swinging the chair like an executioner.
Muerte rises first, limping, furious from the chair shot—superkick from Nero!
FIREWALL!
But Mister Sunshine sneaks in behind! Grabs Muerte—
WELCOME TO THE SUNSHINE CLUB! Full Nelson Flapjack!
Muerte is stunned—but Sunshine’s not done. He pulls him back to his feet and just like he did to his girlfriend…
COVER ME IN SUNSHINE! The bearhug locks in!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: No! No! Not like this!
MATT RUBY: He’s hugging the life outta Muerte! That’s how Gemini felt! Do you like it!?
Muerte struggles, claws at Sunshine’s arms, but the damage is done—his body starts to slump.
Referee lifts the arm. Once. Twice… THREE TIMES.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Damn it! El Mariachi Muerte is eliminated!
MATT RUBY: Hugged into unconsciousness! That’s another masterpiece from Sunshine!
El Mariachi Muerte has been eliminated!
The crowd boos loudly as Sunshine skips in circles, arms raised in joy, while Nero watches with disgust.
El Dragón Caído slides in behind Sunshine, rising like a nightmare.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Sunshine doesn’t realize who’s behind him!
Caído spins him around—
WINGBREAKER!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: The Spinning Claw Slam damn near sent Sunshine into orbit!
Caído doesn’t go for the pin—he wants punishment.
He rolls outside and grabs a ladder from beneath the ring. A tall one. He bridges it across the apron and the barricade, creating a steel ramp.
Back in the ring, Caído sets up Sunshine on the top rope and climbs up himself—
MATT RUBY: No. No no no—NOT FROM THERE!
MEXICAN DESTROYERRRRRR from the top rope—THROUGH THE LADDER BRIDGE!
CRASHHHHHHH!
HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: GOOD GOD! Sunshine is DEAD!
Caído crawls over to Sunshine’s motionless body in the wreckage, but the referee stops him. Sunshine is out! He’s unconscious! The referee is calling it!
Mister Sunshine has been eliminated!
Hatchet, Redgrave, Foley, Caído, and Nero remain.
Foley and Hatchet are brawling on the outside, trading punches until Hatchet bounces Foley’s head off the announce table.
Inside the ring, Jasper Redgrave and Nero stand across from one another.
The Killer King sneers, blood on his jaw. Nero snarls, his mask cracked from earlier abuse.
They charge.
Nero rushes with a roaring elbow—Redgrave counters, scooping him up with a Spinebuster!
He pulls him from the canvas—
PORTRAIT OF A KILLER!
NO! Nero flips out—rebounds—
INTO THE FUCKING CUTTER THROUGH MID-AIR!!!!
A VERSION OF THE PACKET STORM!!
Nero covers…
ONE….
TWO…
THREE!
—KICK OUT!
Suddenly, Deanie Hungy climbs onto the apron, holding a foam finger.
The crowd erupts with a mix of cheers and confusion.
MATT RUBY: Deanie’s back! He’s alive! What a brave boy!
He waves his foam finger and tries to enter the ring—but Hatchet is waiting.
Hatchet grabs Deanie by the collar and lifts him up like a child.
“Everyone gets downed by the clown.”
But before he can strike—
FOLEY!
Mandible claw! THE PUPPETSHOW!
Hatchet stumbles back and gets dumped over the top rope—but lands on the apron.
Foley charges—Hatchet ducks, Foley goes over too!
Both men land hard on the outside!
Nero takes a look, hits the ropes…
TOPE SUICIDAAAAAAAAAA!!
DOWN GOES FOLEY, NERO AND HATCHET!!!
El Dragon Caido is now back in the ring… Redgrave is back to his feet…
Redgrave whips Caído into the corner—charges—but Caído springboards up—
SPRINGBOARD CROSSBODY TO THE STANDING REDGRAVE! DOWN THEY GO!
But Nero is back—springboards—
PACKET STORM! Springboard Cutter on Caído just as he rises!
Nero locks him in—
ZERO-DAY LOCK!
Omoplata Crossface! Caído claws, reaches—but there’s nowhere to go!
He taps!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: The Fallen Dragón has fallen again! Nero with the elimination!
MATT RUBY: Peace out El Dragon Dipshit!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: We’re down to the final four!
Hatchet, Felix Foley, Jasper Redgrave, and Nero.
Hatchet is bleeding from the mouth.
Foley’s face is forlorn.
Redgrave is soaked in sweat and fury.
Nero stares them all down.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: One of these four men will headline Ring of Dreams and it could be against the current Champion, Ezekiel Graves. Nero must be salivating at that prospect.
MATT RUBY: The Red Reboot? Ha. Ezekiel Graves eats pieces of crap like him for breakfast.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Judging by your breath, so do you.
All four men begin circling one another in the middle of the ring. It’s tense. The atmosphere is building. The crowd are on their feet. Chants begin emanating from around the arena.
Chants for all but one man.
“FE-LIX FOLEY!” *clap clap clap *
“NERO!” *clap clap clap *
“HATCHET!” *clap clap clap *
All three turn their attention to the outlier, The Killer King.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: SICK EM BOYS!
MATT RUBY: THAT’S UNFAIR!
All three men rush him, attacking him with a variety of strikes, backing him into the corner. Foley quickly stomps a mudhole in him, walking it dry!
The Felix Foley’s Corner is just the beginning because The Red Reboot backs up, runs and springboards off the middle rope WITH A KICK TO THE FACE THAT DROPS REDGRAVE ON HIS ASS!!
Dazed.
Confused.
Woozy.
CANNNNOOOONBAAAALLLLLL!!!!!
In comes Hatchet with a fucking statement! Redgrave is done for. He’s outta here. It’s just a matter of who’s putting the final nail in his coffin. Hatchet drags him out of the corner and drops into the cover…
ONE…
TWO…
HATCHET DRAGS HIM OFF!!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: This guy!!
MATT RUBY: What a hero.
Hatchet shakes his head. “He’s fuckin’ mine.”
Foley meanwhile has had enough.
CLOTHESLINE TO HATCHET!! DOWN GOES THE JUGGALO! He rolls out of the ring. The fans roar as The Puppetmaster nods at Nero, telling him to get his pinfall.
The Red Reboot jumps back in…
ONE…
TWO…
THREE!
–NO! REDGRAVE KICKS OUT!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Well done Hatchet. That selfish idiot has kept Redgrave in this thing.
Just then, Hatchet pulls Foley’s legs out from underneath him, dragging him to the outside.
Nero gets back to his feet, heading over to the ropes to see the commotion between two of his supposed allies. There’s three Seekers and one Preservationist in this thing and they can’t get along.
OSW WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP TO THE FUCKING SKULL!!
EZEKIEL GRAVES! EZEKIEL GRAVES!!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!
MATT RUBY: THE CHAMPION OF GOD!! WHAT A RECKONING FOR NERO! HE JUST TOOK HIS BLOODY HEAD OFF!!
The fans boo and hiss as Graves turns with a smile, holding the title in the air for all to see. He tosses it aside and stalks Nero, who barely stumbles back to his feet…
THE FINAL JUDGEMENT!!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: CHOKESLAM STRAIGHT TO BY GOD HELL!
MATT RUBY: Count to 100, he’s dead!
Jasper Redgrave smirks, getting back to his feet and giving the exiting Graves a nod. He drops into the cover…
ONE…
TWO….
THREE!
Nero has been eliminated!
The fans can’t abide it, but there it is. Jasper Redgrave has eliminated Nero with an assist by the World Champion.
Hatchet slides back into the ring having dispatched Foley against the barricade.
He begins circling Redgrave.
No allies.
No tricks.
Just two brawlers who refused to stay down.
Hatchet is hunched over, breathing heavily, blood smeared down his chest like war paint.
Redgrave is standing tall, cracked at the mouth, blood and sweat dripping off him like ink from a painting. His eyes burn holes into Hatchet’s soul.
The crowd is on their feet. They know what's coming.
MATT RUBY: Oh man... this isn’t going to be pretty.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: These two aren’t here to wrestle. They’re here to hurt each other.
Hatchet wipes his mouth, grinning a red grin.
"C'mon, King! Let's finish with a fuckin’ flurry, eh?"
Redgrave cracks his neck slowly, methodically.
"You wanna be famous? You’ll be my next masterpiece."
They collide.
Not a collar-and-elbow tie-up.
Not a test of strength.
A full-blown fistfight.
Redgrave blasts Hatchet with a right hand. Hatchet staggers but fires back with a headbutt that echoes around the arena.
Redgrave absorbs it—and smiles.
MATT RUBY: What the hell is wrong with these guys?
Hatchet swings a wild forearm—Redgrave ducks, hooks Hatchet's waist—German Suplex!
Hatchet bounces off his shoulders, groaning, but forces himself back to his knees.
Redgrave storms forward—Hatchet lunges for the knee, tackling Redgrave into the ropes. The two men tumble violently through the middle rope and CRASH onto the outside floor.
Neither one gets up quickly.
The fans are chanting, fists pounding against the barricades:
"FUCK YOU REDGRAVE!"
“FIGHT HATCHET FIGHT!”
Hatchet drags himself up first, spitting out a tooth.
He grabs Redgrave by the hair and slams his face against the steel steps.
THUNK.
Redgrave's forehead splits open, painting the steps red.
Hatchet roars, a primal scream, and tries again—Redgrave blocks it, elbows Hatchet in the gut, and hurls him into the barricade instead!
Hatchet slumps over the railing, winded.
Redgrave backs up—charges—
BIG BOOT TO THE BACK OF HATCHET'S HEAD!
The impact sends Hatchet flipping over the barricade into the front row!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Hatchet's been launched into the damned fans!
Redgrave doesn't waste a second.
He climbs onto the barricade, stalks Hatchet through the sea of stunned fans—
DIVING KNEE TO THE FACE!
Both men crumble into chairs and bodies.
MATT RUBY: Welcome to Olympus, Arcadians. You’ve got two bloodied sweaty animals on your lap!
Hatchet and Redgrave claw their way back to their feet in the chaos. Redgrave grabs a folding chair—WHACK! Across Hatchet’s spine. Hatchet falls to one knee.
Redgrave raises the chair again—
HATCHET PUNCHES HIM BELOW THE BELT.
JUGGA-BLOW!
Redgrave drops the chair, gasping, falling against a fan's lap.
Hatchet doesn't even grin—he’s too tired. Too furious.
He picks up the chair and JAMS it into Redgrave’s ribs.
Then again.
Then again.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Hatchet is trying to crack Redgrave open!
Security tries to clear the crowd as Hatchet drags Redgrave by the arm, marching him back toward ringside.
He tosses him powerfully over the barricade and towards the ring. Redgrave drops to a knee as The Juggalo follows. He pulls him under..
WHAM! POWERBOMB!!
POWERBOMB ON THE RING APRON!
The sound of the crack is vile. That’s the hardest part of the ring.
Redgrave arches in agony.
Hatchet peels him off the apron and rolls him back into the ring.
He follows, stomping on Redgrave’s chest with methodical, heavy boots.
MATT RUBY: Where’s Foley when you need him!? Someone needs to stop this and Felix is too busy taking a siesta.
Hatchet lifts Redgrave for Self-Titled—the Fireman’s Carry Stunner—but Redgrave fights it, driving elbows into Hatchet’s jaw.
He slips behind—
COLLAGE OF VIOLENCE!
A brutal superkick to Hatchet’s temple that drops him to one knee.
Redgrave bounces off the ropes—
HIGH VELOCITY SPINNING BACK ELBOW!
Hatchet collapses flat onto the mat.
Redgrave, gasping for air, crawls toward the turnbuckles.
Slowly, methodically, he climbs to the top rope.
Hatchet stirs, pushing himself to his feet, wobbling.
Redgrave stands tall—
DIVING KNEE DROP OFF THE TOP ROPE TO THE BACK OF HATCHET’S HEAD!
CRUNCH.
Hatchet goes down, face-first into the canvas.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: THAT’S GOTTA BE IT!
Redgrave rolls Hatchet over.
Hooks the leg.
ONE…
TWO…
HATCHET KICKS OUT!
MATT RUBY: WHAT!?
The arena shakes from the noise.
Redgrave sits up, blood dripping down his face, staring blankly at the ref.
He drags Hatchet up one last time, setting him between his legs.
Signals for the end.
SYMPHONY OF SYMMETRY
PEDIGREE! PEDIGREE!
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!
HATCHET WITH INSANE STRENGTH LIFTS JASPER OUT OF IT!
SELF-TITLED!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: REVERSAL! REVERSAL!
THE FIRE-MAN’S CARRY STUNNER CONNECTS CLEAN!
He covers…
ONE…
…
TWO…
…
THREE!
Jasper Redgrave has been eliminated!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: The Killer King is outta here! It’s down to two! Felix Foley and Hatchet!
MATT RUBY: Oh, and now here he comes, that absolute pussy… Felix Foley is sliding into the ring, right on cue.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Here we go, folks. This is it. Two men left standing. Two men breathing—barely.
MATT RUBY: One of them's walking out the Lambs to the Slaughter winner… and the other might not walk out at all. This is a no win situation for the Preservationists.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: It’s Hatchet. It’s Felix Foley. It’s WAR.
The tension inside the ring is suffocating.
Hatchet leans against one set of ropes, bruised, bloodied, an unhinged sneer on his face.
Across from him, Felix Foley clutches the top rope, his hair soaked with sweat, chest heaving with ragged breath.
The crowd rises as one.
This isn’t about who’s the best anymore. It’s about survival.
They march to the center of the ring. No hesitation. No wasted motion.
They collide with a thunderous impact, trading stiff, full-force punches.
Left hand. Right hand.
Foley staggers back—Hatchet charges—Foley ducks—
THESE BOOTS WERE MADE FOR WALKIN'!
Running big boot blasts Hatchet backward—but he bounces off the ropes, shakes his head, and grins through bloodied teeth.
Hatchet rushes Foley— HEADBUTT!
WIG SPLIT!
Foley doubles over.
Hatchet hooks him—
HOKUS POKUS!
Double underhook powerbomb into the mat!
Hatchet scrambles into a cover!
ONE!
TWO!
—KICKOUT!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Foley kicked out! Jesus, that impact shook the whole ring!
Hatchet snarls and wastes no time, yanking Foley up by the hair. He clubs Foley across the back, driving him into the corner.
THUD. THUD. THUD.
Three body shots.
Hatchet backs up, charges—
BUT HERE COMES FOLEY!
HATCHET SCOOPS HIM MID RUN!
PONY DOWN!
Side slam backbreaker!
Cover!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!!—KICKOUT AGAIN!
MATT RUBY: How!? Foley should be done!
Hatchet rolls out of the ring and flips the apron.
Steel chairs.
Tables.
Kendo sticks.
And then... something worse.
A sledgehammer.
The crowd gasps.
Hatchet holds it above his head like Thor wielding Mjolnir.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Oh God no. Somebody stop this lunatic.
Hatchet slides back in. Foley tries to stand—
CRACK!
The sledgehammer collides directly with Foley’s skull.
Foley drops like a puppet cut from its strings.
The entire building falls silent for a heartbeat.
MATT RUBY: He’s dead. He’s dead. We just watched a murder.
Hatchet throws himself into a pin, hooking both legs.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!!
—KICKOUT AGAIN!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: HE KICKED OUT! HE KICKED OUT!
The fans lose their minds. Hatchet sits there, stunned, blinking into nothingness.
He shouts in frustration, hammering fists into Foley’s face.
Hatchet lifts Foley—dead weight—and slings him into the corner.
FELIX FOLEY’S CORNER!
Stomps and stomps and stomps—Hatchet mocking Foley’s own move—until Foley is slumped like a corpse.
Hatchet drags Foley out of the corner.
Hooks him again.
SELF-TITLED!
Another devastating Fireman’s Carry Stunner!
Pin!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!!
—FOLEY KICKS OUT AGAIN!
Hatchet punches the mat, wild-eyed.
He grabs a chair, sets it up in the center of the ring.
He drags Foley to his feet again—
DEATH POP!!
Hatchet lifts and H-BOMBS FOLEY THROUGH THE FUCKING STEEL CHAIR!
The chair explodes.
MATT RUBY: Okay, this time it’s over. It has to be.
Cover!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!!
—KICKOUT AGAIN!
FOLEY KICKS OUT AGAIN!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: This man’s soul refuses to die!
Hatchet stares into the crowd, then back down at Foley, who twitches but somehow isn’t unconscious.
Hatchet stands over him, mocking him, slapping his face.
“Stay down, bitch! Stay DOWN!”
He picks Foley up again—
NO!
Foley shoves Hatchet backwards, into the ropes!
Hatchet rebounds—
DIDN'T SEE IT COMING!
RUNNING BIG BOOT! THESE BOOTS WERE MADE FOR WALKIN’!
Hatchet drops to one knee.
Foley collapses to his own knees—but forces himself up.
Hatchet rises groggily—
SHOTGUN DROPKICK TO THE KNEE!
Hatchet buckles.
Foley drops to the canvas and rolls to the outside, finding a steel chair of his own.
He slides back in and charges—
CHAIR SHOT TO THE HEAD!
Hatchet drops face-first into the mat!
MATT RUBY: He folded him like laundry!
Foley collapses into the cover!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!!
—KICKOUT!!
The crowd can’t believe it.
Neither can Foley.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Hatchet just survived what should’ve been a deathblow!
Foley crawls into the corner.
He pulls himself up slowly, slowly, using the ropes.
Hatchet stirs, struggling onto all fours.
Foley limps across the ring—
He scoops Hatchet up…
BUMPED HIS HEAD!
Death Valley Driver onto the wreckage of the broken chair!
Cover!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!!
—KICKOUT AGAIN!
HATCHET KICKS OUT AGAIN!
Foley slams his own fists into the mat, frustrated but determined.
Both men claw their way back up.
Both men are bleeding.
Both men are shaking.
Hatchet grabs a steel chair.
Foley grabs a steel chair.
They stare at each other across the battlefield.
The crowd rises again.
Two warriors with nothing left but violence.
They charge.
CRACK!
Both chairs collide with each other’s skulls at the exact same time.
THUNK.
Both men crumple to the mat, motionless.
The crowd falls deathly silent.
The referee checks on both men—nothing.
Neither responds.
Neither stirs.
The ref looks to the timekeeper.
Signals.
DING DING DING!
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: What the hell!?
MATT RUBY: Did Foley win!? Did Hatchet win!?
The ring announcer climbs into the ring, microphone shaking.
"Ladies and gentlemen… due to a double knockout… this match is declared… A DRAW! Your winners... HATCHET... and FELIX FOLEY!"
MATT RUBY: A draw!?
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: They beat the life out of each other! Felix Foley and Hatchet win Lambs to the Slaughter! Oh my God!
BOMBSHELL
The arena was already in shock. Felix Foley and Hatchet—Seeker brothers-in-arms, battered and bloodied—had just gone to war inside Lambs to the Slaughter.
And they had both won.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: I can't believe this. We saw this years ago when O'Toole and Dr. Death jointly won, but we've not seen it since.
MATT RUBY: It didn't end well for those two pussies, did it?
Simultaneous unconciousness. Dual victory. An outcome only ever seen once before.
The fans were stunned, standing in applause, roaring at the unlikely result.
Both men, soaked in sweat and exhaustion, slowly pushed themselves off the mat, locking eyes. There was no joy. No celebration. Just disbelief.
Until—
No music. No theatrics. Just venom.
ARES.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Oh sh... what does he want?
MATT RUBY: It can't be good news for either of these Seekers.
He stepped onto the stage, grim-faced, absorbing a hurricane of boos from the furious crowd.
“I didn’t think it would come to this…” he said, his voice low and cutting through the chaos. “Two Seekers win Lambs to the Slaughter. One of them… a man who blew up the Pantheon, who nearly killed Zeus.”
The crowd quieted, a storm ready to burst.
“The Baron is clinging to life because of that man and I promise you this—” he says with a deep low terrifying growl. “He will NOT make it to Ring of Dreams.”
Ares begins pacing. “In fact…” Ares steps forward, his voice rising. “He won’t make it out of this fucking building.”
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: OH MY GOD!
MATT RUBY: WHICH ONE IS IT!?
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: OH COME ON!
The crowd ERUPTED.
A chant surged like wildfire!
“HATCHET! HATCHET! HATCHET!”
Then—
Hatchet moves.
With no warning, he injects grabs Foley by the neck, quickly injecting him with a syringe.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: YOU ABSOLUTE...
MATT RUBY: What's he doing!?
The arena gasps as Foley drops to his knees, eyes wide in confusion, body going limp.
Ares smiles, cruel and satisfied, raising his voice to speak over the boos now raining like thunder down on Hatchet. What the fuck did he just do? Why?
“Hatchet wasn’t the one who tried to destroy the Preservationists…” The War General continues. “FELIX FOLEY was.”
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: NO! N... NO... NOT FELIX. SURELY NOT FELIX!?
MATT RUBY: I knew he was a scumbag, BB! I knew it!
Gasps. Shock. Utter bedlam follows.
Hatchet grabs Foley by the collar and lifts him, whispering into his ear—
“Nox sends his regards.”
He’s about to snap Foley’s neck—
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: Don't do it you bastard! Not Felix! Not like this!
MATT RUBY: Oh yeah, don't murder the murderer!
But the lights cut out.
The crowd SCREAMS.
Static floods the screen.
Glitches. Distortion. Noise.
A high-pitched whine hums through the arena speakers.
Then—
Silence.
When the lights return, Felix Foley is gone.
Standing in his place…
is Scissors.
BRONCO BLACKWOOD: OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD!!!!!!!
The monster inside the man. His painted masked smile twisted into a nightmarish grin.
Hatchet stares, frozen.
“It’s dangerous…” Scissors whispers, twitching. “…to play with scissors.”
STAB!
SCISSORS TO THE FUCKING CHEST OF HATCHET!
The blades pierce Hatchet’s chest, clean and deep.
The crowd is in an uproar—half cheering, half shrieking.
Scissors turns his head slowly to Ares on the ramp, who stands motionless, calculating.
Foley—no, Scissors—laughs.
A laugh that echoes and glitches through the speakers.
The screen distorts—
Glitches. Static. Black.
Static.
A Stop ■ symbol appears in the bottom right hand corner of the screen as we fade to black.