The broadcast opens on a sweeping cinematic drone shot gliding through the fog-drenched pathways of Knott’s Scary Farm. The camera passes abandoned western façades now overrun with animated skeletons, spectral Victorian widows pacing under flickering lamps, and chainsaw maniacs stalking through rolling curtains of dry ice. Haunted maze strobes pulse in the distance. Orange string-lights drip like molten candy from twisted trees. Animatronic crows scream from blackened barn roofs.
Fans line the walkways in costume; demons, slashers, drag vampires, luchadores, zombie Goofy, glitter-splattered werewolves, full cosplay horror icons, half face-paint half blood capsules, one guy in a 10-ft inflatable pumpkin kaiju suit. Hundreds hold posters to the lens:
“ALEXANDER RAVEN 4 PRESIDENT OF HELL”
We descend through swirling fog and neon until we reach the six-sided ring erected dead-center in the Boardwalk area, surrounded by a roaring capacity crowd. The entire barricade is wrapped in black burlap and rusted iron cemetery fencing. The SCW logo is carved like a Ouija planchette on the mat.
At ringside stands ring announcer Justin Decent, thighs on full display, dressed in an aggressively slutty 18th-century vampire noble.. Hair slicked, fangs in, exposed pecs oiled to God. He lifts his mic to speak….
And the lights die….
Shrieks rip across the park. Every light kills, all sound except ambient distant screaming from the mazes.
Then a blood red spotlight illuminates a macabre cobweb-choked living room set materialized at the top of the stage. Velvet walls. Carved jack-o-lanterns grinning like they know something. Fireplace embers glowing sickly. And on an antique loveseat, legs casually crossed … sit Chucky and Tiffany!
“SCW IS MY THERAPY”
“BRING BACK ARTIE!”
“MARRY ME MERCEDES :3”
“BRANDON HENDRIX SIGN MY FOREHEAD”
Chucky: Heh-heh-heh! Well well well! Happy freakin’ Halloween, Sin City Wrestling!
Tiffany: Live from Knotts Scary Farm. Where the blood is real, the lawsuits are pending, and the children are delicious.
Chucky: Welcome to the SCW Climax Control HALLOWEEN MASSACRE EXTRAVAGANZA!!! I’m your Pumpkin-Spiced Death Doll, Chucky!
Tiffany: And I’m Tiffany, and I will hit on your boyfriends AND your girlfriends, don’t test me.
The crowd loses its mind!
Chucky: Tonight, we’re your featured homicidal hosts. But first, we got special guest field reporters on location.
The SCW-Tron above the stage comes to unlife. Static crackle. Hallway lit only by a single flickering fluorescent tube to reveal ...
Jason Vorhees. Standing motionless. Machete lowered. Mask fogged. Breathing slowly.
And Michael Myers. The Shape. Dead eyes. Knife tilted forward like a question.
Neither moves. The camera zoons in when…
Cut back to Chucky and Tiffany.
Tiffany: Those two are covering post-match interviews tonight. Since neither have ever said a word, coverage will be razor-sharp.
Chucky: But first, your hostess with the ghostest! The woman who died twice and got hotter every time…
Tiffany: The queen of scream, the ghoul of glamour…
Together: Amanda Hugginkiss!!!!
Fog rolls thick across the entrance ramp as a bell-toll echoes like a funeral in Dolby Atmos. The stage coffin doors burst open and Amanda emerges. Her gown is a swirling gothic cathedral; black mirror-lacquer organ pipes sculpted into a corseted spine, collapsing into a roaring flare of molten purple tulle and smoke-reactive fabric that literally bleeds ultraviolet when it moves. A living haunted doll aesthetic, crying black crystal tears under diamond cross lashes. A crown of barbed-wire roses hovering above her head via unseen rigging. Her train glides unnaturally, like it’s hovering. Her arms sleeved in silk cobweb filigree that spiders glinting silver actually crawl in.
The crowd loses its entire sanity.
She stops center stage.
Amanda: Buena Park, California! Hello you filthy little haunted freaks!
The crowd cheers!
Amanda: Welcome to Knott’s Scary Farm! Where your childhood trauma comes pre-upgraded with pyrotechnics, and welcome to SCW Halloween Night!
The crowd cheers! She points with deadly precision to the barricade.
Amanda: Oh look. Front row. A man dressed as Spirit Halloween Jack Sparrow. Sweetheart, blink twice if your girlfriend forced you here instead of letting you stay home and play Call of Duty like the undercooked casserole you are.
The crowd laughs and cheers as the man pumps both fists!
Then Amanda’s eyes shift, locked now on a pair of shirtless twin werewolf cosplayers in matching faux-fur harness gear, veins painted silver. They both immediately flex at the same time like they practiced it since birth.
Amanda’s tongue touches fang.
Amanda: Mmmmm. Double homicide. Do you two come as a set or can I check one of you out for evaluation like a library book with late fees?
The twins blush & flex harder! Amanda winks at them, then turns back to the camera.
Amanda: Now that we’ve established that I absolutely will be doing crimes tonight, I do believe it’s time for me to sing you ungrateful sinners a song.
The crowd cheers as the lights dim lower and the music plays.
Amanda: It’s October, baby, I feel the spirit in my bones
The gays rise like Mariah when defrosting season’s close.
The straights buy one costume, we buy eighteen.
‘Cause gender is a concept and Amazon has free shipping.
Your pumpkin patch is cute,
But I am rehearsing rituals
Summoning Lindsay Lohan to reclaim Mean Girls visuals.
The children want candy, I want trauma and a fog machine,
I am legally at war with Spirit Halloween.
HALLO-WEEEEEN! It’s gay Christmas, honey, praise the moon!
We’re drunk in witch hats before it even hits noon.
While the straights carve pumpkins, we’re resurrecting Britney,
Sacrificing bottoms in a glitter-lit liturgy
HALLO-WEEEEN! The gospel of homosexuals in couture!
Karen dresses as a witch, baby that’s just her in a hat.
I'm a demon nun in pleasers doing WAP for the Vatican.
Your kids ask, “Trick or treat?” I ask, “Top or bottom?” twice.
By sunrise I’ll have danced with six ghosts and rolled for my life.
Every bar is a church,
Every twink is a wandering soul,
And I baptize them in vodka ‘cause mama that’s pastoral care and growth.
Mariah stays frozen but Bette Midler ascends,
And Hocus Pocus becomes a legally binding gay event.
HALLO-WEEEN! The gays’ official holy day of praise!
We sing “Defying Gravity” and hex our exes with grace.
While the straights watch Netflix, we speak to gay ancestors,
In a sequin séance chanting, “Werk, Yas, Slander, Yessir.”
HALLO-WEEEEN! Like Christmas but slutty and nobody’s sober!
Dearly beloved…
We are gathered here tonight to honor
The greatest miracle known to gay kind.
SLUT PRIVACY.
NO FAMILY DINNER.
AND SOCIALLY MANDATED DRAMATICS.
CAN I GET AN AMEN GAY-MEN?
HALLO-WEEEEEN! The sacred fruity holiday of doom!
This is THEE gay rapture, darling welcome to the tomb.
We don’t do Silent Night, we do Screaming Bloody Mary,
We don’t do baby Jesus, we do TRAUMA and FAKE FAIRY.
HALLO-WEEEEEN!
CHRISTMAS but for people who can death drop in sh*t-faced pleather.
And lo on the 1st of November
the gays rose hungover and bought discounted wigs.
Amen.
Amanda’s final high note hangs in the air like a ghost and then she blows dozens of theatrical air kisses in both directions and dips into a ridiculously elegant, phantom-doll curtsy. The crowd erupts! She grins, vanishes like mist through the gothic curtains and lights snap back to ringside.
At commentary, Belinda Simone and Erik Lunam sit at the broadcast desk, both fully Halloweened out.
Belinda is immaculate Gothic Hollywood glamour as Morticia Addams. Floor-length obsidian velvet gown, deadly center-part raven hair, black lip, manicure sharpened to a point. Extremely composed. Zero camp.
Erik is dressed as a rave DJ Grim Reaper. Full skeletal skull makeup, but wearing LED shutter shades and a glowstick rosary. Hood back. Sleeves cut off. Possibly forgot pants. He looks like death, but for gay nightclubs in Reykjavik. He is having the time of his life.
Simone: Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the special Halloween edition of SCW Climax Control, coming to you live from the legendary Knott’s Scary Farm in Buena Park, California!
Lunam: The final stop on the Road to High Stakes XV! Tonight, every single match has a special Halloween-themed stipulation and all determined at random by a spin of the Halloween Roulette Wheel!
Simone: Let’s take a look at tonight’s card and it is stacked!
Lunam: We open with a violent rematch weeks in the making as two of SCW’s biggest bulldozers collide once more as Brandon Hendrix takes on ‘Bulldog’ Bill Barnhart!
Simone: Then bitter tensions erupt when Ryan Keys goes head-to-head with Logan Hunter. Logan originally wanted to answer the Internet Championship open challenge from Miles Kasey but was denied. Ryan Keys wasn’t. Tonight, Logan intends to make Keys pay for it.
Lunam: Family drama brews next! Non-title action as the dangerous Mercedes Vargas throws down with the sister-in-law of her longtime friend Crystal … Zenna Zdunich!
Simone: And then the Finals of the Superstars High Stakes Tournament. Aiden Reynolds is one win away from earning his rematch for the World Heavyweight Championship. But he must get past the enigmatic man stalking the current champion … and presently in possession of the stolen title belt itself … Alexander Raven!
Lunam: And after that is pure seasonal chaos! Candy fully embraces Halloween as she steps into the ring with the former SCW World Champion herself, the ‘Dreamkiller’ Kayla Richards!
Simone: Then the Finals of the Bombshells High Stakes Tournament! Hall of Famer and multi-time champion Crystal Caldwell battles the ‘Hardcore Queen’ Bella Madison for a guaranteed shot at championship gold!
Lunam: And our Main Event is a monumental Clash of the Champions! World Heavyweight Champion Helluva Bottom Carter collides with Roulette Champion Vincent Lyons Junior! And this has gotten deeply personal ever since Vincent openly disrespected both Carter’s husband Miles and his brother-in-law LJ!
Simone: All that and more on this Halloween party warzone edition of SCW Climax Control!
“Pour Some Sugar On Me" by Def Leppard hits and the crowd goes wild. Candy comes out onto the platform dressed in her famous SUPER CANDY costume! For those unfamiliar, it's an obnoxiously pink superhero suit with a big “C” on the chest filled in with glitter, a matching cape with a “C” on it, and of course a matching mask adorned with as much glitter as it could possibly hold. She does a superhero pose on the stage before getting a mic.
Candy: HAPPY HALLOWEEN EVERYONE!!! I'm SUPER CANDY, the sparkliest superhero EVER, and I'm here to host a costume contest!!!
The crowd cheered.
Candy: And YOU GUYS are gonna get to pick the winner between these 4 super awesome costumes! Guys, come on out!
She motioned to the ramp and a young woman came out wearing pink wrestling tights, a brown wig, and carrying a toy Bombshell Roulette title around her waist, and a stuffed pomeranian in her arms. She jumped around excitedly and gave Candy a big hug.
Candy: Oh you are just full of energy! Who are you?
Girl #1: My names Alicia and I'm dressed up as my favoritest SCW Bombshell of ALL TIME! I'M CANDY!!!
Candy smiled big, honored, as the crowd cheered for her.
Candy: I LOVE IT!!! Our next costume…
A young woman came out dressed as Cruella Deville with a toddler on her hip in a dalmatian costume. The crowd cheered.
Candy: AWE! HOW CUTE! Introduce yourself.
Woman: My name is Scarlett, and I'm Cruella Deville. And this little rascal is my puppy, James.
Candy: Amazing! Our next costume is…
A couple come out, The male has a green wig and the girl a pink one, both wearing small gold crowns and holding wands with stars in the end, and of course the clothing to match. The crowd cheered.
Candy: COSMO AND WANDA!?
Male: That's right! I'm Kyle and this is my wife Jenny. We are Cosmo and Wanda from Fairly Odd Parents!
Female: Cosmo, you idiot!
Candy: You sound just like them!! Heehee! Now, our last contestant…
A young boy, roughly 10 or 11 years old, comes out wearing a suit, a scowl, and a wig.
Candy: Who are you?
Boy: My names Kevin and I'm dressed up as Christian! See?
He scowls again, and points his finger at Candy. She giggles.
Boy: NO MORE PINK AND GLITTER CANDY!
Candy: OH EM GEEEEE I SEE IT NOW!!!
The crowd erupted in cheers for the boy, who continued to do the mannerisms of Candy's boss in a hilarious way.
Candy: You are all winners in my book, but the fans will vote on a winner. Just cheer for who you think should win! The winner gets a VIP backstage tour with me and could meet almost any wrestler in the back! Let's hear it for Alicia!
The fans cheer.
Candy: Scarlett and James?
The fans cheer louder.
Candy: How about Kyle and Jenny?
The crowd cheers about the same.
Candy: And how about Kevin?
The crowd erupted in cheers.
Candy: The fans have spoken… Kevin is our winner!!!
The fans cheer as Kevin celebrates.
Candy: Let's hear it for all of our awesome costumes! Everyone enjoy the show!!!
The camera opens on a fog-filled corridor lined with flickering orange lights and fake cobwebs. A haunting melody of violins plays faintly over the loudspeakers. Out of the mist steps Miles Kasey, dressed in a full-on Victorian trench coat, tweed vest, and deerstalker hat, a magnifying glass in hand and a pipe clutched between his teeth.
Behind him, Carter walks with his arms crossed, wearing a neat suit, a bowler hat, and a fake mustache slightly askew, very clearly the reluctant Dr. John Watson. A few paces behind the pair trails Kevin, wearing a full Wiccan costume, cape and all, holding a candy bag and looking like he’s both amused and secondhand embarrassed by what’s happening.
Miles stops abruptly, crouching down near a long, muddy footprint on the floor, clearly fake, part of the park’s decorations, and squints through his magnifying glass.
Miles: (in his best faux-British accent) Ah, yes... fascinating. The evidence is clear as day, my dear Watson.
HBCarter:*sighing, dryly* Miles, that’s fake blood. You’re literally staring at fake blood.
Miles: Nonsense! The trail of clues always begins in the least likely of places. The SCW World Championship... vanished under mysterious circumstances. Stolen... by that nefarious mastermind... Alexander Raven!
Kevin:*deadpan* You mean the guy who literally walked out of the arena with it on live TV?
Miles: Exactly!
HBCarter:*rubbing the bridge of his nose* Remind me again, where did you get your investigator degree?
Miles:*without missing a beat* Elementary, my dear Watson.
Carter freezes, then turns to Kevin with the kind of exasperated look only a spouse can master.
HBCarter: I guess I asked for that.
Kevin snorts, trying not to laugh. Miles, meanwhile, is fully committed, standing tall, cape catching the breeze from a nearby fog machine as he dramatically points down the corridor.
Miles: The case is clear! The villainous Raven absconded with the gold, intent on infecting it with his delusions of grandeur and cheap cologne. But fear not, for I, Detective Kasey, am on the case!
HBCarter:*playing along now* And what’s the plan, Detective?
Miles: We track the evidence. We interrogate the suspects. We scour every haunted hayride, every corn maze, every fog-shrouded pathway in this godforsaken carnival until the championship is recovered!
Kevin: Or, you know, you could just ask Christian or Evelyn if they’ve gotten it back from him yet.
Miles turns slowly, eyes narrowing behind his magnifying glass.
Miles: Young Wiccan, logic has no place in the pursuit of mystery.
Kevin just stares for a beat.
Kevin: I’m starting to understand why Uncle LJ hides when you two get like this.
Carter chuckles under his breath as Miles straightens up, adjusting his coat with flair.
Miles: Come, Watson! There’s work to be done! The game... is afoot!
Miles sweeps past them, dramatically exiting toward the foggy midway. Carter looks at Kevin, shrugs, and mutters,
HBCarter: If he starts monologuing in the Hall of Shadows, I’m leaving him there.
Kevin:*grinning* No promises I’ll stop him.
*Fade out to the eerie Halloween logo transition.*
Justin: The following match is the pumpkin pandemonium match. Introducing first…
Raise Your Glass by Pink hits the speakers and we see Bill Barnhart walk out from the backstage area holding a pink glass chalice in his hand. He is followed his English Bulldog Iris leading her by a pink leash attached to her pink diamond-studded collar. When the song comes to the lyrics RAISE YOUR GLASS Bill Barnhart raises the chalice into the air. The crowd gives a mixed reaction to Barnhart. The two make their way to the ring where Bill hands the chalice to a ring attendant to hold onto until the match is over. Bill enters enters the ring then walks around the ring playing the crowd before settling into a corner..
Justin: From Laurenceville Georgia, standing 6 foot 4 and weighing 240 pounds…BILL BARNHART!
Look in the mirror
Lightening strikes the stage and the smoke disappears as Brandon Hendrix stands in the middle of the stage, “Anger’s Remorse”, He stares out to the cheering crowd, pointing to them before looking back at the stage, then tosses his arms up, creating a white flame that shoots up from the stage.
The cobweb of my soul
On my face, forever
Seeking to be whole
Driven by passion
Raging like a storm
With thunder and lighting
And this hubris I was born”
Justin: AND THEIR OPPONENT! FROM MILAN, ITALY RESIDING IN SAN ANTONIO, TEXAS! HE WEIGHS IN TONIGHT AT TWO HUNDRED AND SIXTY FIVE POUNDS! THE GOD OF HOPE!
BBBBBBRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNNNNNDDDDDDDDDOOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNN…..
FUCKING……
HHHHHHEEEEEEEENNNNNNNNDDDDDDRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIII
“You can relight my fire
Brandon starts walking down the ramp, a single light shining down on Hendrix. The fans have all turned their flashlights on their phones and hold their phones up. The entire arena is lit with lights and the fans wave their phones along to the song. Brandon continues his walk down the long ramp of where SCW is being taken place, thousand fans becoming Brandon's light in this battle with a his opponents being who they are. Brandon looks around, giving a slight nod to those who back him before he walks up the steel steps, wiping his feet before entering the ring. Brandon stares at his opponent, and acknowledges the war that is coming. He takes his jacket off and hands it to crew outside the ring. Brandon stands in his corner and tells his opponents to bring it..
DING DING DING!
When our shame becomes the pale horse
The story's harboring a liar
But you're the seer, you can break the curse
For in the twilight of my years
I am nothing but anger's remorse”
Lunam: Here we go! It’s time for Pumpkin Pandemonium! There’s pumpkin guts, broken weapons, and probably regret waiting for these two!
Simone: And the smell of rotting gourds is just delightful. Welcome to Halloween in Sin City Wrestling, where the rules are thrown out the window and the pumpkins are weaponized!
The crowd roars as Bill Barnhart paces slowly in his corner, chain already wrapped loosely around one wrist like an omen. He’s the old-school brawler, broad-shouldered, every scar on his body a reminder that pain never scared him.
Across the ring stands Brandon Hendrix, younger, bigger, muscles taut and glistening under the arena lights, his eyes locked on the veteran. The two men circle, surrounded by smashed pumpkins and unopened orange shells scattered across the mat and ringside floor. They lock up. The first test of strength. Hendrix drives forward, muscling Bill back into the ropes. The veteran grits his teeth and counters with a hard knee into the gut, then a back elbow that cracks across Brandon’s jaw.
Simone: The kid’s learning the first lesson tonight; don’t underestimate experience. Especially experience with bad knees and worse intentions.
Lunam: The Bulldog still has bite!
Bill grabs Hendrix by the wrist and whips him across the ring. On the rebound, Bill ducks down for a back body drop, but Brandon stops, grabs Barnhart by the head, and drives a knee into his face! The crowd gasps as Bill stumbles backward. Brandon follows with a shoulder tackle that knocks the older man flat on his back. Brandon doesn’t waste time. He slides out of the ring, grabs the first pumpkin he sees, and smashes it open on the steel steps. Pumpkin chunks fly, seeds scatter, and inside gleams a Singapore cane. The crowd cheers as Brandon grins wickedly. He slides back into the ring, cane in hand.
CRACK!
The bamboo rips across Barnhart’s back once, twice, three times. Bill arches in pain, crawling toward the ropes.
Simone: Hendrix is carving him up early!
Lunam: More like turning him into pumpkin puree!
Brandon goes for another swing but Barnhart rolls out of the way. He slides under the ropes and grabs his own pumpkin from near the announce table. He hoists it overhead and smashes it open against the corner post. Inside is a short length of steel chain, rusted, heavy, dangerous. Bill laughs. He wraps it around his right fist and slides back in. Hendrix swings the cane again, but Barnhart ducks and lands a right hand wrapped in steel straight into the ribs! Another to the side of the head! Brandon drops the cane, clutching his ribs as Bill unloads a flurry of chain-laced punches until the younger man collapses to a knee. Barnhart grabs a handful of Hendrix’s hair, shouting in his face before driving another heavy fist down across his temple. He whips him into the ropes and nails a swinging back elbow on the rebound. The crowd lets out a roar at the sudden shift in momentum.
Bill unwraps the chain and drapes it across Brandon’s neck, yanking backward in a brutal choke. The referee can’t interfere, no disqualifications tonight. Brandon thrashes, elbowing back into Bill’s midsection until the grip loosens. He spins around, grabs the chain, and yanks it forward, sending Barnhart face-first into a pile of broken pumpkin shells. The orange pulp sticks to his beard. Bill looks furious. Brandon steps out to ringside and grabs another pumpkin. He smashes it against the mat. This one holds a baking tray coated in glittering orange paint. He rears back and smashes it across Bill’s skull with a metallic clang! Glitter sprays everywhere as Bill staggers backward, half-blinded. Simone: That’s the prettiest assault I’ve ever seen! Lunam: He just made Barnhart sparkle. Somewhere, a drag queen is jealous. Brandon tosses the tray aside and lifts Bill into a standing suplex. He holds him vertical, displaying raw strength, then drops him onto a cluster of pumpkins in the corner. The gourds explode under the impact, orange mush coating both men. Crowd: THIS IS AWESOME! Bill rolls away, gasping for breath. He crawls toward the outside, dragging himself near the announce table. Brandon follows, grabbing a half-crushed pumpkin along the way. He raises it high but Bill throws a handful of pumpkin guts into Brandon’s eyes! Blinded, Hendrix stumbles, swinging wildly. Bill seizes the moment, grabs the younger man by the tights, and sends him headfirst into the steel post! Brandon collapses to the floor. Bill spots a massive jack-o’-lantern perched on the barricade. He picks it up, grunting from the weight, and smashes it straight down onto Brandon’s back. The pumpkin bursts apart, revealing a pair of brass knuckles inside.
Bill slides them onto his fingers and smirks. Bill hauls Brandon up and nails a right hook to the jaw that echoes through the arena. Then another. He throws him into the barricade and follows up with a running lariat that sends both men tumbling into the front row. Fans scatter as security holds the barrier. Brandon crawls back over the railing, trying to regain footing. Bill follows and slams his face into the apron before rolling him back inside. The veteran climbs to the second rope, brass knuckles still on, and drops a flying fist drop straight to the skull.
Cover!
ONE!
TWO!
KICKOUT!
The crowd explodes again. Bill slams the mat in frustration. Simone: The kid’s still got gas in the tank. Bill looks like his ran out three punches ago. Bill gets to his feet, angry now. He rolls outside, searching for something more dangerous. He finds a pumpkin near the timekeeper’s table and splits it open with his boot. Inside glints a barbed wire bat. The crowd’s reaction is a mix of awe and horror. Bill holds it up like an executioner’s axe and slides into the ring. Brandon is barely up, blood on his forehead. He turns…
WHACK!
The barbed wire kisses his ribs, tearing through skin. Another swing across the back! Brandon drops to a knee, agony etched across his face. Bill grins, walking slow circles around him. He raises the bat for the kill, but Brandon lunges forward, spearing Barnhart to the mat! Both men roll through the debris, barbed wire tangling between them. They separate, both breathing hard. Brandon rips the bat out of Bill’s hands and throws it aside. He lifts Barnhart by the hair, eyes blazing. German suplex!, Second suplex! Third suplex into the pumpkin pile! The crowd goes wild as Brandon roars, adrenaline taking over. He climbs the ropes, pumpkin mush dripping from his boots. Flying elbow drop! He hits it flush, splattering orange pulp across the mat. He hooks the leg.
ONE!
TWO!
NO! Bill kicks out again! Brandon sits back, disbelief on his face. Lunam: I don’t believe it! The old man’s still alive. Simone: You can’t kill stubbornness, Erik. Trust me, I’ve tried. Both men stagger to their feet. Brandon grabs the chain from earlier, wrapping it around his forearm. Bill swings with one last wild punch, blocked! Brandon retaliates with a chain-wrapped lariat that flips the veteran inside out. Bill collapses, motionless. Brandon drops to his knees beside him, drenched in sweat and pumpkin. The fans are on their feet, chanting, “Fight forever!” But Brandon’s not done yet. He crawls to the corner and finds one last unopened pumpkin, the largest of all. He drags it to the center of the ring and smashes it open with his bare hands. Inside lies a steel chair painted with a grinning jack-o’-lantern face. He lifts it high. Bill pushes himself up on one knee, defiant even now, blood dripping down his cheek.
CRACK!
Chairshot to the skull. The sound echoes like a gunshot. Hendrix then pulls bill to his feet and looks over at a pumpkin, hooking Bill‘s arms he hits the mafia!! right on top of the pumpkin he then covers.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
DING DING DING! Justin: Here is your winner! BRANDON HENDRIX! Brandon stands up and celebrates with both arms raised high, drawing in the cheers! Bea Barnhart slides inside of the ring to check on the Bulldog as he recovers! Lunam: And Brandon “F’n” Hendrix gets the win! Simone: But BOTH of these men will be feeling this savage beating dealt to one another for weeks to come! We cut to the backstage area where we see the guest interviewers for the Halloween special Michael Myers and Jason Vorhees, the camera then pans out to show Logan Hunter dressed as pinhead engaged in an intense staring contest with the horror icons while the Shields Sisters watch on, Brooke is dressed as a sexy witch (crop top that leaves much of her stomach exposed, mini skirt and witch’s hat) while Marissa is dressed in a regular witch outfit (hat, shoulderless crop top, long dress). Logan: SPEAK TO ME DAMN IT! Marissa: How long as he been trying to have a conversation with those guys? Brooke checks the time on her phone. Brooke: At least ten minutes. Logan: I SAID SPEAK TO ME! The two icons of horror remain silent and Brooke rolls her eyes before dragging her boyfriend away from them. Brooke: Logan, cameras are rolling, FOCUS! Logan: Fine! Brooke: Tonight Logan is getting a warm up match against Ryan Keys before he moves on to Justin Smitch at High Stakes! Logan: That fool will pay for costing me a spot in the tournament! Brooke: Yeah, what he said! And if anyone thinks for even a second that Logan is going to lose to Justin? PUH-LEASE! When has that idiot beaten anyone credible. Logan: Justin’s time is at hand! Brooke and Logan walk off but Marissa stays with the icons. Marissa: Honestly? The fact that you guys don’t talk makes you much better company than Logan! The crowd laughs as the scene fades. Dimly lit corridor backstage with cool blue lighting and drifting fog. Jason Voorhees stands imposing and silent in shadow wearing his iconic hockey mask. Mercedes Vargas, dressed as Bellatrix Lestrange from the Harry Potter series, stands confidently with a microphone. Jason slowly steps forward and points a gloved finger at the Hall of Famer, who acknowledges silently. Mercedes: You want to know what tonight means to me? Jason tilts his head slightly and extends an arm, motioning as if weighing options. Mercedes: Oooh! I love the strong, silent type. Mercedes waves off the camera. Mercedes: Anyway....Tonight is a test. A test of everything I’ve trained for. I’m not just fighting for a win tonight—I’m fighting to cement my legacy. Every win, every match has led to this moment, tying the all-time record for most wins ever in Sin City Wrestling and the most wins ever on Climax Control. I’m a living legend in SCW. I’m here to remind everyone why they fear me, and why I’m still at the top. Jason raises both arms slowly as if signaling challenge or confrontation. Mercedes matches this with a challenging tone. Mercedes: Care to prove me wrong, Zella? Mercedes stares at the Bombshell Internet Championship draped over her shoulder, letting her fingers trail across its gold lettering. Mercedes: You see this? This isn't just a title, it's validation. Validation that I am everything you wish you could be but never will. Tonight may be a non-title match, but you're still going to end up as just another footnote in my dominance. Jason steps closer and slowly lowers his head, a nod of respect or acknowledgment. Mercedes smiles slightly. Mercedes: I see your warning, Zella. But I don’t back down. Not from you... not from anyone. Jason steps back into deeper shadow, then taps a gloved fist against his chest, signaling strength or will. Mercedes: When that bell rings, it’s about control. My control. Precision. And that’s what wins matches—and tonight, I win. Jason silently extends a finger, motioning as if asking “Tell me more.” Mercedes: Zella may have speed, but I have strategy and experience on my side. Unlike Ms. Manners, I’m not here to play nice; I’m here to conquer. Jason gestures as if asking “What about your upcoming title defense? Mercedes is just as confident, answering the silent question. Mercedes: Oh, right. Harper. Is it just me, or does she seem to get whatever she wants these days? Doesn't matter, because Harper's not ready for what I bring to the table. Jason continues to stare silently, tilting his head slightly, as if listening. Mercedes: I’ve beaten Harper before, and I’ll do it again at High Stakes in two weeks in Tucson, Arizona. Hope she's not expecting a celebration that night because her championship aspirations is about to turn into one lonely plane ride home. Jason nods slowly, silent approval. Mercedes now turns directly to the camera. Mercedes: As far as tonight goes, I think I've got some more history to make. Jason turns slowly and points down the corridor, a nonverbal sign meaning “Go” or “Showtime.” Mercedes: Zenna Zdunich, good luck, mamita. You're going to need it. Mercedes walks confidently down the hall as Jason stands silently; the camera lingers on his ominous masked silhouette fading into the fog. Lunam: Our next match for today is a Singles Match with Ryan Keys and Logan Hunter. Simone: This match has been assigned as a Graveyard Smash match. The match takes place in an outdoor set designed like a Graveyard. Various items include tombstones, dirt mounds, graves, and other related items. Lunam: This match is a FALLS COUNT ANYWHERE for the win but you can also win the match by burying your opponent under a mound of dirt. I checked with Referee Jasmine St. John and she said if a wrestler tosses their opponent into an open grave that does not automatically translate into a win. They would still have to bury their opponent with dirt to obtain the win. But there is another stipulation with the grave thing. If you throw your opponent into an open grave and then start tossing dirt into the grave to bury them but before you can completely bury them the are able to get out of the grave then it is not classified as a win until you do get them fully buried with dirt. Simone: That sure was a long-winded explanation but it is nice that you clarified that for the viewers. But, Erik, as always, your opinions do not count. All you need to know, Erik, is that Logan Hunter is going to win this match. Lunam: Whatever. I am rooting for Ryan Keys for the win. Justin: The first wrestler to enter the ring hails from Las Vegas, Nevada, he comes into this match at six feet two inches in height and two hundred twenty-five pounds, please give a great Buena Park, California, welcome for RYAN KEYS!!! The arena goes dark, then bursts alive with flashing neon strobes, as I’M MADE OF WAX, LARRY WHAT ARE YOU MADE OF?” by A DAY TO REMEMBER WHAT ARE YOU MADE OF? by A DAY TO REMEMBER hits the speakers. We watch as Ryan Keys explodes out of the backstage area and onto the entrance platform. His energy level is high as he spreads his arms wide, sunglasses glinting, before jogging side-to-side to pump the crowd. Ryan points to the fans, slaps hands as he goes down the ramp, and slides dramatically into the ring. He leaps onto the turnbuckle, tossing his shades into the crowd before striking a playful pose. With a grin and a wink, Ryan hops down, bouncing on his feet, ready to turn the match into his dance floor. Lunam: That is a nice energetic entrance and it has the crowd fired up. Simone: Whatever. . . Justin: Next to make their way to the ring hails from Sydney, Australia, he comes into this match at six feet and two hundred twenty pounds, please give a great Buena Park, California, welcome for LOGAN HUNTER!!! “HOPE CASTRATED” by CAGE FIGHT hits the speakers and as soon as the opening scream is heard Logan emerges from the backstage area with Brooke following him out and has her back to the crowd while she does some sensual poses and her boyfriend glares at the ring. As soon as Logan's name is called the two start making their way to the ring. When close to the arena floor Logan gets a running start before hopping on the ring apron and holding the middle rope down for Brooke as she enters the ring before he follows her in. Logan and Brooke meet in the middle of the ring and while Logan remains standing Brooke drops to one knee and stretches her arms out with her head bowed. Lunam: That was a lot of drama for making an entrance. Simone: You are just jealous as you know Logan Hunter is going to win this match. Referee Jasmine St. John has both wrestlers join her in the center of the ring. She then informs the two that their match is a Graveyard Smash match but the match will not take place in the ring where the three of them are located at this time. She explains that their match takes place in an outdoor setting which is designed like a graveyard with tombstones, dirt mounds, graves, and other items. A win can be by Pinfall and the Pinfall counts anywhere within the graveyard set where they will be wrestling. She also informs Ryan and Logan that a win can also be obtained by burying your opponent under a mound of dirt. Lastly Referee St. John informs the two that if they toss their opponent into an open grave that will not count as a win unless they also manage to bury their opponent with dirt for the win. Lunam: I am glad Referee St. John clarified that. Simone: Now we wait for the three of them to enter the Graveyard then Referee St. John will officially start the match. Once Referee St. John, along with Ryan Keys and Logan Hunter arrive at the Graveyard she calls for the bell from the Timekeeper and this match is officially underway.
DING DING DING!
Ryan Keys and Logan Hunter take off running into the graveyard and when they start moving around they notice the items available for them to use as weapons in the match and both notice dirt mounds staged around the graveyard. They also notice there are several open graves waiting for someone to get tossed into them and possibly buried by the dirt their opponent tosses into the grave. Logan runs past one of the graves and then he slips behind a headstone where he sees a shovel and hides behind the headstone. Ryan runs in the direction where Logan went and he stops only to pick up a shovel that he can use as a weapon. While they are looking around to calculate their attacks on each other Referee St. John remains in a position to observe both wrestlers and to be ready to call the match when needed.
Lunam: With that shovel in his possession Ryan has an advantage against Logan.
Simone: I guess you failed to notice that Logan also picked up a shovel also.
Ryan Keys runs up to the grave but he looks around and does not see Logan as he was not able to see Logan hide behind the headstone. While Ryan is surveying the area where he last saw Logan, and when he turns around to look for Hunter, we watch as Logan runs out from behind the headstone and whacks Ryan in the back with the shovel. This causes Keys to drop to the ground giving an advantage to Logan. As Hunter is about to shove Keys into the grave so that he can attempt to bury him with dirt for the win Ryan rolls over on his back and when Logan approaches him Ryan lands a nicely planted foot to the groin on Logan which drops Hunter to the ground. With both wrestlers on the ground and currently not able to maneuver quickly all Referee St. John can do is wait for the action to start up again.
Lunam: Although Logan got the first blow in on Ryan the roles were reversed when Ryan gave some payback.
Simone: I will admit that with Ryan Keys taking a whack I the back by a shovel is less debilitating than receiving a hard kick to the groin.
As the two wrestlers are trying to recover from their injuries it is Ryan Keys who gets to his feet first as the hit on him was with a shovel to his lower back but Logan Hunter is struggling a bit more to get to his feet after the crotch shot. Ryan walks over to Logan and he pulls Logan to his feet to get ready to administer more punishment. Keys lands several hard punches to the head and upper body of Hunter. Ryan then takes a few steps back then he charges on Logan but this time it is Logan who steps to the side causing Ryan to misses hitting Logan. When Ryan Keys spins around he is hit with a shovel by Logan Hunter which causes Ryan Keys to fall into the open grave.
Simone: This should be interesting. It is not going to be easy for Ryan Keys to climb out of the grave before he is fully covered in dirt. This is going to depend on how quickly Logan Hunter can shovel enough dirt to fully cover Ryan.
Lunam: Anything is possible in every wrestling match regardless what the rules or type of match it is. There is a possibility that even though the grave is deep that when Logan starts shoveling dirt into the grave to try to bury Ryan that if Keys can hang on in the match then when the dirt gets high enough he can climb up the dirt that Logan is shoveling into the grave allowing Ryan to climb out of the grave before getting buried.
Simone: But, Erik, you need to keep in mind that there are more ways to win this match than to bury someone who is inside of an open grave as pinfalls also count. Also even though it is not likely that Logan and Ryan are not going to use tactics than take a long time to gain a win both of them have the option to go for a pinfall at any time.
As the dirt Logan is shoveling into the grave to cover Ryan we see that Keys is near the top edge of the grave. He watches Hunter turn away from the grave to obtain another shovel full of dirt. With the distraction Ryan Keys is able to pull himself out of the grave before Logan Hunter can turn around. Ryan closes in on Logan and when Hunter turns around he is surprised that Keys is standing in front of him as he thought he had Ryan stuck in the dirt in the grave and with a few more shovels of dirt he would have had Keys buried for the win.
Lunam: It appears we are back at square one on even ground again.
Simone: I suppose the two will turn to trying to get a pinfall or submission on the other rather than waste their time trying to toss enough dirt into a grave to cover their opponent for the win.
Quickly both Logan Hunter and Ryan Keys start trading punches and kicks and both are working hard to maneuver to where items such as a shovel, or hammer, or some other items, can be obtained to attack the other. For now the two realize that without any objects close to them that they could use as weapons they have to work hard on disabling their opponent to the point where the opponent cannot continue in the match. Although both Ryan and Logan are landing a lot of punches and kicks on each other neither is backing down to allow the other to get a pinfall or submission on them.
Lunam: I find it interesting that this is a match taking place in a graveyard and now the wrestlers involved in the match have decided to go with punches, kicks, and other wrestling maneuver instead of trying to bury their opponent with dirt either on the ground or inside of one of the graves.
Simone: Yes wrestling matches turn that way sometimes.
As Ryan Keys and Logan Hunter continue trading punches, kicks, and other blows, Referee Jasmine St. John stays focused on the action. Both Ryan and Logan continue beating each on each other and although both are delivering damage on the other it appears that Logan is getting the better of Ryan as it appears Keys is slowing down in this match. Logan Hunter continues delivering punches and kicks to Ryan Keys then he maneuvers Ryan into a position where he locks his arm around the throat of Ryan and he cinches it up into what is classified as a choke hold. Referee St. John immediately steps in to ask Ryan if he wants to submit but due to the hold Logan has on the neck of Ryan that prevents him from responding to the Referee St. John she raises the arm or Ryan the lets go of it and the arm of Ryan drops to the ground. She does it once more and again when she releases his arm it drops to the mat. Referee Jasmine St. John leaps to her feet and calls for the bell to end the match.
DING DING DING!
Referee St. John then orders Logan Hunter to release his hold on Ryan Keys and to stand to the side and he does so.
Justin: Ladies and Gentlemen the decision in this match, by Referee Jasmine St. John, is that the winner of the match, due to their opponent not able to continue in the match due to the hold that was placed upon him is, LOGAN HUNTER!!!
Referee Jasmine St. John raises the hand of Logan Hunter for the win. She then drops his hand and Logan thanks the crowd for their support then he heads off to return to the regular backstage area. The camera then focuses on Ryan Keys and he is on his feet and able to return to the backstage area on his own but he is taking it slowly.
Simone: I told you so Erik.
Lunam: Oh well.
The camera cuts to the back, standing in front of a relatively poor imitation Camp Crystal Lake Sign is two men. Alexander Raven, the World Championship belt looking less than its best, smeared with ash and burns, alcohol stains and chunks of the leather strap missing. Even a few of the studs look to have fallen off it. Dressed in a white muscle shirt, covered in splatters of red. Assumedly blood. Black jeans, and purple vans. He has a number of gashes across his face, hopefully make-up and not actual wounds.
Standing next to him, microphone being held in one hand, a machete in the other. The masked and voiceless wonder himself, Jason Voorhees! If looks could kill, the one that Jason was giving Alexander Raven right now would have him dead ten times over before one could blink. Alex, doesn’t look too perturbed.
Alexander Raven: Why yes, thank you Jason. It really is fucking awful to be here tonight. But it just goes to show that even with how much they hate me, how much they say they wish I would shut up, and how much they really think no one cares about me. I’m here for a third week in a row, because I’m a workhorse. Holding the championship belt that they are so desperate to hand back to their faux champion.
If Jason rolled his eyes, this would have been the moment to do it. Instead he just continued to stand there, silent and menacing, staring daggers into the soul of Alexander Raven. Alex nods thoughtfully, as if he had just been asked an important question.
Alexander Raven: I did say that I had a proposition for them, didn’t I? Yes, I am happy to return the belt to its temporary owner, and I only have a singular request to do so. By the powers that be, when I win tonight, not if. When. When I win tonight by dispatching Aiden Reynolds, Carter can walk his way down to the ring, stand there and stick his hand out. I’ll hand the championship belt right back to him, as long as. Come High Stakes. I get to choose the stipulation. It's only fair, right? Carter gets what he wants, I get what I want. Nobody is happy because happiness is clearly forbidden.
Jason’s hand tenses around the handle of the machete, slowly turning to face straight down the barrel of the camera, no longer wishing to look at Alexander Raven. Almost as if being summoned by the mention of his name, the SCW World Heavyweight Champion himself walks into the shot, on the opposite of the intrepid interviewer Jason Voorhees. Carter is dressed in his Halloween costume of Doctor John Watson from Sherlock.
The crowd breaks into cheers at the sight of the champion!
Carter leans past the hulking figure of Jason to look to Alexander and he smiles, waving idly with his fingers. Raven’s eyes narrow. Carter then straightens upright and looks up toward Jason.
HBCarter: You know Jason? You’re a lot bigger man than I am. I mean, I could never stand next to the man who called my mother names the way Alexander here did to yours.
At the mention of Jason’s mother, his head slowly begins to turn as he looks back toward Alexander Raven. Raven oblivious for the moment, stares death into Carter.
Alexander Raven: All I said about his mother, was that maybe if she spent more time teaching him to swim, and less time murdering teens doing the dirty, he wouldn’t be such a fucking schmuck.
Raven is suddenly brought back to reality at the sound of the microphone dropping to the floor. He moves his eyes from Carter, to Jason, and smiles. The slightest bit of panic in his eyes, as Jason begins to raise the machete.
Alexander Raven: Anyway, lovely interview, always terrible to see you Carter. I’ll see you later tonight, I’m sure.
And with that, Raven takes a few quick steps backwards, before turning on his heel and sprinting off into the backstage area. Jason beginning to stalk after him. For we all know that Jason doesn’t need to run. He’ll always catch up in the end.
Carter watches as the chase horror movie style is on, and coming up from behind him is his husband Miles Kasey, dressed as Sherlock Holmes, and the sixteen year old Kevin Chapman who is wide eyed at what he just witnessed. Miles leans in to whisper.
HBCarter: That was an awfully wicked thing to do.
To which Carter leans back in a snuggle with an affirming smile.
HBCarter: I know. Fun, isn’t it?
We cut to the backstage area where we see the Bombshell Internet Champion Mercedes Vargas and Crystal Caldwell on one side of the Roulette Room and Zenna Zdunich on the other, Ms. Rocky Mountains is waiting to spin in wheel while dressed as Evil Barbie.
Simone: Almost time for our next Halloween themed match!
Lunam: We just ned Rocky to tell us what it is.
Ms. Rocky Mountains: Ready ladies?
Mercedes and Zenna nod before Rocky spins the wheel, after a few moments it stops on….
Ms. Rocky Mountains: Trick or Treat!
Simone: Several mystery boxes will be sprawn around the ringside area, some contain weapons, treats if you will, the others contain tricks!
Lunam: This will be good!
Ms. Rocky Mountains: Good luck ladies.
The three women walk off as the scene fades.
Simone: Welcome back to the Halloween Special of Climax Control boils and ghouls and our next match features the Bombshell Internet Champion Mercedes Vargas in non-title action against Zenna Zdunich!
Lunam: And it’s going to be a trick on treat match! This will be chaotic!
Simone: Let’s take it to Justin!
Justin: The following non-title match is scheduled for one fall and will be a Trick or Treat Match!
The opening guitars of "Freeky People" by Kidneythieves hits. The lights start flashing red and purple as Zenna makes her way out to the ramp pulling the devils horns above her head. She smirks at the crowd before she runs down and slides into the ring and sits on her knees, savoring the sounds of appreciation from the crowd. She climbs up onto the top rope and pulls the horns in front of her face while her tongue hangs out and she yells like she's at a rock concert before she jumps off awaiting her opponent.
Justin: Introducing first, from Halmstad, Sweden, ZENNA ZDUNICH!
Simone: Zenna made her debut at the beginning of the cycle with an impressive win over Ms. Manners……………
Lunam: Who STILL hasn’t been located after Twisted Sister scared the living daylights out of her during last week’s main event!
Simone: Err, yeah, that too, but she faces tough competition tonight.
Justin: And her opponent!
Suddenly, the arena lights turn off and the crowd is hyped up for what was in store. As the opening of "Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me, Kill Me" by U2 blares across the PA system, the mood of the crowd changes instantly and the arena is under the subtle glowing of the lights. As the lyrics finally kick in, a figure emerges; the highlight of their attire is being under the illusion. Mercedes Vargas stops short of the entrance ramp, hands on waist, and overlooking the crowd.
Justin: Making her way to the ring, being accompanied by Crystal Caldwell, from Buenos Aires, Argentina, weighing in at 125 pounds, MERCEEEEEDEEEES VAAAARGAAAAS!
Cheers, boos and catcalls soon greet her. Oblivious and yet satisfied with their reaction for several seconds, she flips her long hair, then makes her way to the ring. As she goes up the steps and walks to the end of the ring apron, she climbs to the turnbuckle, then turns her head back as the camera shows her determined expression-perhaps a message that her opponent will be in for a tough fight. Mercedes vaults into the ring and walks over to the opposite corner where she relaxes along the corner ropes.
Simone: It should be noted that Zenna is related by marriage to Crystal through her wife Seleana.
Lunam: I thought she was married to Diamond Calwell these days?
Simone: You expect me to keep up with this shit?!
Drew goes over the rules (or lack thereof) with both women before calling for the bell.
DING DING DING!
Simone: And this non-title match is underway!
Lunam: And you can bet that Mercedes’s challenger at High Stakes Harper Mason will be watching this closely!
Once the bell rings Mercedes and Zenna circle around each other before they lock up in the middle of the ring, though both Mercedes and Zenna are on the taller side (5ft 10 and 5ft 8 respectively) Zenna wastes little time in showing off her strength by shoving the veteran across the ring, causing Mercedes to do a backflip, remembering that the match is basically No DQ Crystal starts going through a few of the boxes closest to her, throwing the weapons inside the ring…………until she finds one of the “trick” boxes: a dildo.
Crystal: Property of Brooke Shields?!
Simone: That explains so much!
Lunam: Yet I still have several questions that I’m not sure if I want the answer too!
Needless to say? Crystal quickly drops the dildo and Mercedes tries to get over her own shock by grabbing one of the items that DID make it into the ring…………and gets a face full of kendo stick from Zenna who subsequently goes for the first pin of the match!
ONE!
Simone: You know, Crystal and Mercedes are both veterans and Hall of Famers, hell, Mercedes is a 2x Hall of Famer, solo AND as part of the Mean Girls, you’d think they’d have seen it all by now.
TWO!
Lunam: I mean, you’ve been around just as long and it caught you off guard.
And Mercedes kicks out!
Simone: Touche! But more importantly Zenna gets a two count on Mercedes!
Zenna shakes her head before she backs up to the ring ropes, winding up for another shot, however Crystal has recovered from her shock and has jumped onto the apron to try to yank the kendo stick out of her hands, keyword being try as Zenna’s grip is a lot stronger than Crystal anticipated resulting in a tug of war.
Lunam: Both women have their hands on that long, thick piece of wood and are yanking it back and forth at the same time and I swear to god, I’m not commentating on a porno!
Simone: After that dildo I’m not even sure myself.
Luckily for Crystal? Mercedes has used the distraction to whack Zenna in the back with a steel chair, unfortunately for Crystal? She’s sent flying off the apron after the chair shot knocks Zenna into her! But Mercedes takes advantage of this and hits Zenna with a German Suplex, bridging it for a pin attempt!
ONE!
TWO!
And Zenna kicks out! Mercedes goes back for the chair and starts measuring up the Swedish Bombshell to get back to her feet as Zenna uses the ring ropes to pull herself up, unfortunately for Mercedes? Zenna ducks and the chair bounces off the top rope and into Mercedes’s face, turning her around into a lariat!
Simone: Mercedes and Crystal haven’t had a good few minutes huh?
Lunam: Somehow I doubt Zenna is complaining!
Zenna goes for a pin.
ONE!
TWO!
And Mercedes kicks out! Zenna shakes her head before leaving the ring and going through a few boxes, she finds some trick boxes (expired candy, Atari Jaguar games ect) before she finds a treat box containing a barbed wire baseball bat! The fans cheer as Zenna holds it up but the cheers turn into boos just as soon as Mercedes hits the Swede with a running Baseball Slide, knocking the bat out of her hands.
Lunam: Zenna really went to bat for Mercedes there but I guess Mercedes just wasn’t wired enough for it!
Simone: For the love of god, stick to your day job!
Mercedes throws Zenna back into the ring before grabbing the bat and following her in, Mercedes gives Zenna a chance to get back to her feet before whacking her in the stomach with the bat and then wrapping some of the wire across Zenna’s face and pulling, causing the Swede to bleed! Thinking they have the match won Crystal comes into the ring and holds up Zenna for another shot from the baseball bat, sadly for Crystal?
Simone: This really hasn’t been Crystal’s night is it?
Lunam: And she’s got a High Stakes Tournament Final Match against Bella later too!
Crystal plops down from the bat shot and Zenna tries to capitalize by hitting her Fatal Kiss finisher, however the blood loss gives Mercedes a chance to fight out of it and hit Zenna with the Black Rose Overdrive!
Simone: And there’s Mercedes with the Black Rose Overdrive!
Lunam: Only a few have kicked out of that move and I don’t think Zenna’s going to join them, stick a fork in her, she’s done!
Mercedes goes for the pin!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
DING DING DING!
Justin: Here’s your winner, the Bombshell Internet Champion Mercedes Vargas!
Simone: Mercedes has momentum heading into High Stakes and her next defence.
Lunam: Zenna gave it her all and come on! is this really necessary?!
Indeed Mercedes has started to stomp away at the unconscious Zenna and (once she wakes up) Crystal joins her, however before things can escalate further the crowd comes alive as Harper and her partner in crime Cassie come out to save the day, chasing off the veterans with chairs.
Simone: Thank god for Young Justice!
Lunam: Given Harper’s history with Mercedes? Their title match will be a barn burner!
Mercedes and Harper stare each other down while Drew checks on Zenna.
A video package plays where Eddie Lyons stands in a Fred Flintstone costume holding a small baby dressed in a tiny green Pebbles outfit with big noise canceling headphones that have a little white bone on top. Next to him is a young attractive woman dressed as Wilma, holding a leash with a small dog and a purple Dino costume.
Eddie: Hello SCW universe and happy Halloween from the Lyons family! You already know me, but this is my wife Sabrina our daughter Jordan and our little furball Koda.
Eddie pauses.
Eddie: But tonight we come to you as Fred, Wilma, Pebbles, and Dino, The Flintstones!
Koda barks happily.
Eddie: We hope everybody has a wonderful and safe Halloween and remember to be careful out there when trick or treating….
Eddie interrupted by a voice off screen.
Voice: And don't forget, it's trick or treat. Tricks can be very fun too.
Victoria Lyons walks into frame dressed as the Joker, with Darian Price close behind dress has Harley Quinn with a bat slung casually over his shoulder.
Victoria: Tricks are my favorite part of the holiday.
Eddie: Yeah I bet they are. Did the two of you rob gotham on the way here?
Victoria: Rob Gotham and not bring my favorite cousin a souvenir? You don't know me that well at all do you?… Fred.
Eddie: Well that's nice of you, but when we let you visit the baby, Harvey over there ate all the baby's snacks.
Darian: Whoops! Sorry about that puddin’!
Victoria: That’s my Harvey always has to cause a little chaos everywhere he goes.
Eddie: Well, let's remember some tricks can be too mean, but a light-hearted trick can indeed be fun.
Victoria: But the mean tricks are the most fun!
Darian: Hey. Mrs. J. do you smell that?
Victoria sniffed the air and frowned.
Victoria: Harvs... that might be our cue to exit.
She looked at Eddie and then the baby and her and Darian and slowly backed away out of frame, their laughter can be heard echoing down the halls.
Sabrina: I think I saw some cream puffs in catering with my name on them. Besides, it's your turn anyway…. Fred.
Taking the dog away with her on a leash Sabrina exits off camera as well leaving Eddie alone with the baby.
Eddie: Hey come on I'm at work right now! Do I have to? Are you going to answer me? Helloooo?!
Eddie pauses drawing in a big breath.
Eddie: WIIIIIIIIIIILLLLMMAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!
The screen lingers for a moment as the words Happy Halloween from the Lyons Family appear.
They linger for a moment before there's a loud crash and Vincent Lyons Jr flashes on screen for just a moment with a loud scream, before everything cuts out to black.
We cut to the backstage area where we see the two finalists in the male High Stakes Tournament Aiden Reynolds and Alexander Raven waiting to hear what their Halloween themed match will be.
Ms. Rocky Mountains: Ready gents?
The two man nod at Rocky (who’s still dressed as a Evil Barbie) and she spins the wheel, it eventually stops on……………
Ms. Rocky Mountains: Blood Moon Brawl!
Lunam: Err, what’s a Blood Moon Brawl?!
Simone: Good question! I know they revamped many of the Halloween stipulations for this year’s show!
Ms. Rocky gets a message over her earpiece and nods.
Ms, Rocky Mountains: So the match will be held under red lighting and is No Disqualification, however the weapons must be painted red or red themed and the only way to win is to score a pinfall under the Red Moon!Simone: Did Christian come up with that after binge watching horror movies with his husband?
Lunam: Probably!
Ms. Rocky Mountains: Good luck gents!
The two men walk off as the scene fades.
Simone: Welcome back to Climax Control’s Halloween Special and our first of two final matches in the High Stakes Tournament! Alexander Raven will take on an old rival and fellow Aussie in Aiden Reynolds in a Blood Moon Brawl!
Lunam: The match will be held under red lighting and is No Disqualification, however the weapons must be painted red or red themed and the only way to win is to score a pinfall under the Red Moon! Given that they are both former Roulette Champions Raven and Reynolds are used to having to fight under unusual conditions but this takes the cake!
Simone: Speaking of cake, let’s take it to Justin!
Justin: The following contest is the finals of the Superstar High Stakes Tournament and it’ll be contested under Blood Moon Brawl rules! The match will be held under red lighting and is No Disqualification, however the weapons must be painted red or red themed and the only way to win is to score a pinfall under the Red Moon!
The opening riff of Parkway Drive's "Vice grip" hits. The high speed gives way to Aiden Reynolds stepping out onto the stage, a fist in the air and a black leather jacket with "The Aussie Wolf" spray painted on the back. He moves his way down to the ring and as the refrain of the song hits he throws his arms out to the side as he and the crowd both chant.
"YEAAAH YEAH YEAH"
Justin: Introducing first, from Gold Coast, Queensland, Australia, weighing 220ibs he is “The Aussie Wolfe” AIDEN REYNOLDS!
He leaps onto the apron and takes a few steps backwards before sling shoting himself into the ring and spinning around, he then stops and drops to one knee slamming his fist into the mat.
Simone: Aiden challenged Carter for the World Heavyweight Championship at Violent Conduct and if he wins tonight? He’s right back where he’s started!
Lunam: But his opponent won’t make it easy!
Justin: And his opponent!
As the opening rift of 'Kafka' by Jinjer begins to play out the lights change to a darkish blue, filling the area with a hazy blue. Smoke billows from the entrance way, covering the ramp and creating a cloud big enough for a person to stand in at the entrance curtain.
'Hardly in the spirit of the era. Dedicate and thin skinned.
One appeared in front of the jury. Face uncovered in front of the jury.'
Justin: From Melborne, Victoria, Australia, weighing 225ibs, “The Broken Messiah” Alexander Raven!
Alexander bursts from the smoke cloud, eyes open wide as he slowly casts his gaze over the crowd. His face drawn and stoic, the slight flaring of his nostrils as he nods a little to himself. His hand extends out to his side, as Luna Pasilno steps through the smoke, taking his hand in hers. The two of them slowly beginning to make their way down the ramp, hand in hand.
'Beauty of looks, beauty of faults.
Frightened and offhand. Deaf to a command.'
Simone: This is hardly the first time Raven and Aiden have faced off but Raven has faced some controversy as of late after he literally stole the World Title from Carter!
Lunam: And he is literally being fined the longer he holds onto it! Of course if he wins tonight and dethrones Carter at High Stakes? Well, no one will be able to say that he doesn’t deserve the title!
As they reach the ring apron, they let go each other’s hands, Alexander stepping up onto the ring apron, and turns to look back at Luna. The two of them locking eyes as he slowly steps backwards through the ropes, never breaking gaze from her. An unspoken acknowledgement as he slowly steps backwards toward the centre of the ring, Luna making her way around the ringside area taking up place nearby. Alexander coming to a stop in the middle of the ring, eyes still locked on her. Waiting for the bell. As the lights turn red Dawn goes over the rules with both men before they call for the bell.
DING DING DING!
Simone: And the first High Stakes Tournament Final is on!
Lunam: Don’t adjust your sets folks!
As soon as the bell rings the two Aussies waste no time in throwing hands with each other as they go back and forth in the ring and Dawn can only watch on as the two men go at it, meanwhile on the outside Luna is searching for weapons to help her man win the match and advance to the finals, throwing any red painted weapons she can find (they were kind enough to go with a shade of red dark enough to stand out even in the red light) and Raven manages to break the brawl with a European Uppercut, knocking Aiden against the ring ropes before Raven starts going over his weapon options.
Simone: It didn’t take long for the match to break down as Raven and Aiden are picking up from last year’s High Stakes which saw Aiden dethrone Raven for the Roulette Championship!
Lunam: And he and Luna went on hiatus for months after that! Luna is the only one who hasn’t returned to the ring!
However Raven takes a little too long to pick a weapon and Luna happens to throw in a red painted kendo stick which lands near Aiden! Auden grabs the stick and whacks it across Raven’s back before he can pick up a weapon! Aiden then wraps the stick around Raven’s neck and hits a White Russian Leg Sweep on Raven, floating over into a pin on Raven as Dawn slides into position to make the count.
ONE!
TWO!
And Raven kicks out.
Simone: Here’s the real question: was that a White Russian Leg Sweep or a Red Russian Leg Sweep?
Lunam: I hate that that question will haunt me for the rest of the week leading up to Halloween!
Luna was actually sliding into the ring to break up the pin but even though it’s No DQ Dawn does take a moment to remind her of SCW’s intergender rules and she swiftly slides back out of the ring! Meanwhile Raven has picked up a red painted steel chair as he is standing up and when Auden moves in for a follow up Raven swings blindly, catching Aiden on the arm! Smelling blood in the water Raven places the chair against Aiden’s and hits an arm breaker!
Simone: That lucky swing may have been the lucky break Raven was looking for!
Lunam: Especially if Aiden tries for the Gold Coast Cutter later in the match!
Raven then proceeds to lock in a Fujiwara Armbar on Aiden but rather than check to see if Auden’s ready to tap Dawn reminds Raven that submissions don’t count in the match but Raven doesn’t care, because he’s clearly more interested in weakening Aiden’s arm at this point! After a few minutes of Aiden still not giving Raven the satisfaction of submitting to Raven’s hold though Raven rolls Aiden onto his back and goes for a pin!
ONE!
TWO!
And Aiden kicks out!
Simone: Again, submissions don’t count in this match but Raven clearly wants to weaken that arm!
Lunam: Aiden has put many men away with the Gold Coast Cutter so it makes sense!
Raven shakes his head while Luna looks under the ring for another weapon, needless to say? No one was expecting a freaking table to be painted red but Luna shrugs her shoulders before sliding it to Raven, seeing the table Raven picks it up, props it in the corner and then leans Aiden against the table! Raven goes across the ring, points to Aiden, makes a slit throat motion and charges in for a spear……………only for Aiden to duck out of the way at the last moment sending Raven through the table.
Simone: Un oh!
Lunam: Luna has given Raven wood and now it’s exploded all over him instead of Aiden! Again, I’m not commentating a porno!
Aiden uses his good arm to drag Raven out of the corner (and more importantly? Under the red lights) before he goes for a pin!
ONE!
TWO!
And Raven kicks out! Aiden surveys the other weapons that Luna (who is beside herself with guilt over what she just inadvertently done to Raven) and picks up a barbed wire wrapped red chair (and even the wire is painted red and holds in up!
Simone: How does one paint barbed wire?
Lunam: Very carefully I suspect!
Aiden measures up Raven for the shot but back on the outside Luna looks for something o make up for her earlier mistake, finding a red bag, she slides into the red and empties it under the red lights.
Simone: Thumbtacks, some poor soul in the back literally spent a whole afternoon painting each individual thumbtack red.
Lunam: Five bucks says it was an unpaid intern.
However as Luna has emptied the last of the thumbtacks? She realizes that Aiden has spotted her! Luna slowly backs out of the ring and this gives Raven a chance to snatch the chair out of Aiden’s hands and caves it in over Aiden’s head! Luna leaves the ring right as Raven goes for a pin!
ONE!
TWO!
And Aiden kicks out! Seeing the tacks however Raven calls for the Raven’s Spire while pointing to the tacks.
Simone: Oh no, not that!
Lunam: Not a Running Vertebreaker onto the tacks!!!!!!!!
Raven sets Aiden up for his finisher but Aiden blocks it and reverses it INTO A BACKDROP THAT SENDS RAVEN BACK FIRST ONTO THE TACKS! Luna looks like she’s seen a ghost but as Raven’s kneeling? Aiden hits him with the Running Jump Kick, KNOCKING RAVEN BACK INTO THE REMAINING TACKS!
Simone: Backdrop AND Stubby Kick into the Tacks!
Lunam: Yeah, I think Raven’s done! Stick a fork in him, he’s done!
Aiden goes for the pin!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!!!
DING DING DING!
Justin: Here’s your winner, Aiden Reynolds!
Simone: Aiden wins a chaotic match and it’s official, we’re getting an Aiden vs. Carter rematch at High Stakes!
Lunam: And Raven? He’s going to be picking those tacks out of his back into the New Year!
Aiden celebrates his win while Dawn and Luna checks on Raven.
We cut to another part of the arena where Young Justice are seen dressed as their trainers Team Hero (Cassie as Keira Fisher and Harper as Roxi Johnson) complete with respective blonde and red wigs.
Cassie: Why did you have to grab the itchiest wigs available?!
Harper: Give me a break! It was a last minute idea because we forgot today was the Halloween Special!
Harper shakes her head.
Harper: Wonder what Team Hero will think?
Cassie: Either they’ll love it or make us run laps around Hero Academy! No in between!
Cassie sighs.
Cassie: Besides, why aren’t you wearing the Keira wig? You’re the blonde one here!
Harper: Dirty blonde, different hair shade, besides I pulled off the red wig better!
Cassie: ………….good point!
Harper: Come on, we’d better be ready if Mercedes and Crystal try anything in Mercedes’s match against Zenna tonight.
The duo walk off as the scene fades.
The lens focuses on a trail of broken pumpkins leading deeper into the woods. Each one has “LOGAN” carved into it, the letters jagged, almost clawed in.
Justin Smith standing beside a bonfire, the orange light flickering across his face. His eyes glint with that dangerous calm.
Justin: (quietly) Halloween night. Some call it a time for tricks… others, for treats. But for me? It’s a reminder that the world still fears the dark because they know I live in it.
He tosses a handful of ashes into the fire. The flames flare blood-red for a moment.
Justin: You see, Logan Hunter… you’ve been chasing ghosts your whole career. Chasing names, chasing glory, chasing respect. But now, you’re chasing me. And that… is the last mistake you’ll ever make.
Camera pushes in closer as he paces slowly around the fire.
Justin: You call yourself “The Hunter,” but I’ve already buried men who said the same thing. You hunt for the spotlight. I own it. You hunt for victory. I feed on it. And come Halloween night, when the bell rings, you’ll learn that monsters don’t die when the sun comes up.
He kneels, staring directly into the camera, voice dropping into a growl.
Justin: I’m not your next opponent, Logan. I’m your ending.
He smirks, picking up a scorched mask from beside the fire, it’s molded to resemble Logan’s face.
Justin: You wanted a war? You’re gonna get a reckoning. And when that bell tolls… you won’t hear cheers. You’ll hear whispers.
He leans closer.]
Justin: They’ll all be saying the same thing… “Happy Halloween, Hunter.”
He tosses the mask into the flames. The camera zooms in as it melts, then hard-cuts to black. Justin Smith’s logo slams onto the screen in fiery letters as a heartbeat thunders and fades out.
Justin: This match is a Candlelight Massacre submission match. Introducing first… hailing from Malibu Beach, California… Candy.
The lights dim as pink fog starts to take over the entrance ramp. "Pour Some Sugar On Me" by Def Leppard begins to play over the speakers as the lights brighten up. Pink pyro begins to cascade down from the tron as Candy comes bouncing out holding Fluffy. She skips her way down to the ring. Outside the ring, she hands Fluffy to stagehand before getting in the ring and bouncing around some more.
Justin: And her opponent… hailing from Norwich, England… Kayla Richards.
"I will kill your dreams."
The voice of Kayla Richards gives way to the opening guitar riff of Bad Omens "Like a Villian" The lights flash from being on and bright to dark and switching between a dark purple and red. Kayla Richards steps out onto the stage in her gear, a black leather jacket over it, her long hair flowing down as she makes her way to the ring, she runs and slides up and across the apron on one knee before getting into the ring and putting both her hands in the air, one crossed over the other to make a "K" with her fingers before they turn into a double bird and move down to a fingergun pose pointed at the crowd.
The ref moves in and inform both of the rules before indicating for the bell to be rung…
DING DING DING!
Candy and Richards circle the ring before moving in and locking up in the centre of the ring, where they briefly jockey for position before Candy breaks and grabs Richards’ arm, as she tries to take her down for an arm bar, but they merely spin around with Richards not giving up so easily before rolling forward and breaking Candy’s hold. Richards turns and grabs Candy around the waist and then drags her down and rolls her into a pin…
Simone: Forgive us if we struggle to call this. As Candy and Richards move in and lock up, where they jockey for position, as Candy breaks first and tries to lock in an arm back on Richards, but it doesn’t go anywhere, Richard breaks the hold, and she then drags her down to the mat and into pin, but it won’t count.
The ref doesn’t count and quickly informs Richards of the stipulation rules and she shakes her head before quickly shifting to her feet and grabs Candy’s leg as she looks for a knee bar, but Candy begins to swing her free leg at Richards and catches her on the shoulder a couple of times before Richards releases and takes a few steps backwards and Candy makes her way to her feet. Richards rubs her shoulder as she glares at Candy, as they move around the ring once more as Richards shakes her arm before the move in and lock up in the centre of the ring once more.
Lunam: Richards has to get on with this and not dwell. As she moves to her feet and grabs Candy’s leg and tries for a knee bar, but Candy quickly fights back and kicks out at Richards, which Richards has to releases.
Simone: Richards didn’t like that too much as she shakes and rubs her arm, as they move around the ring once more and lock up again.
They jockey for position briefly before Candy breaks and grabs Richards around the head and locks in a cravete hold onto Richards, where she tweaks and pulls on Richards’ head, as Richards takes her time to figure out her next move, as she pushes Candy a little and tries to drag Candy down to the mat to break the hold, but Candy holds on before she makes her way to her feet and takes Richards with her, showing that she isn’t going to give up so easily.
Simone: They jockey before Candy breaks and locks in an impressive cravete hold, as she works on Richards’ neck.
Luman: She has been studying and learning. Richards tries to send Candy down to the mat but doesn’t work out before making their way back to their feet.Once to their feet, Richards then pushes Candy towards a corner, where Candy lets out a heavy breath, as Richards takes steps backwards and rushes forward again a little harder before dropping and pushes Candy away, who rolls away but is back to her feet, as she turns and right into a shoulder block from Richards and sends her down to the mat. Richards glares at Candy before turning and bounces off the ropes but Candy flattens herself down to the mat, which Richards leaps over her and she bounces off the ropes, and Candy leaps over Richards and Richard quicky turns and grabs a leg and Candy face plants the mat.
Simone: Richards pushes Candy into a corner, which Candy doesn’t release her hold until Richards does it again and Candy releases and then Richards pushes Candy away and they make their way to their feet.
Lunam: Once on their feet, Richards’ shoulder blocks Candy to the mat, where then things speed up but then comes to a crashing halt for Candy.
Keeping hold of Candy’s leg, as she places on foot on the back of Candy’s thigh before doing the same on the other side, as Candy grimaces in pain, as Richards releases her legs for a moment and stands on both thighs before leaning down and grabbing a Candy’s hair and pulls her back before grabbing her arms and begins to pull on her and build the momentum to roll herself backwards and set up for a surfboard submission.
Simone: Richards smirks as she then sets up and locks in a surfboard submission.
The ref moves in, as they ask if Candy wants to submit and she shakes her head no, as she takes a moment before pulling her arms free and sits up and rolls forward and as she grips Richards’ legs and rolls her onto her stomach before keep hold of one leg but the become free before she grabs Richards’ arm and locks in an arm bar as she tries to bend it a little more, as Richards grimaces in pain as the ref ask if she want to submit but she shakes her head.
Lunam: the ref asks Candy if she want to give up, but she shakes her head, before making her escape. In her escape, she grabs Richards’ legs and rolls her onto her stomach onto and then grabs her arm and locks in an arm bar as the ref is straight in and asks.
Candy continues to pull back trying to inflict damage on her arm and shoulder, as the ref continues to ask Richards, but Richards shakes her head as she shifts her weight and rolls Candy backwards and away from her and they make their way back to their feet and Candy rushes in but Richards catches Candy with a boot to the stomach, which drops Candy to a knee.
Simone: Candy works over Richards’ arm, as Richards grimaces in pain but she takes her time and manages to shift her weight and frees herself. They make their way back to their feet and Candy rushes in but Richards catches her with a boot to the stomach and stops Candy dead.
Richards grabs a handful a handful of Candy’s hair and drags her up and throws her shoulder first into the corner. Candy hangs there for a moment before Richards drags Candy out of the corner and proceeds to bounce Candy’s face into the turnbuckle pads multiple times before dragging her backwards, where she stomps on Candy a few times before grabbing Candy once more and pulling her to feet, where she then throws her out of the ring, which Candy lands with a thud, as she lays there, with Richards climbs out of the ring.
Lunam: Candy is in trouble here… as Richards sends Candy into the turnbuckle and post shoulder first. She then drives her face into the turnbuckle pads before throwing her out of the ring.
Grabbing one of the fake electronic candles, she rolls Candy onto her back, where she proceeds to use the fake candle as a weapon and drives it into Candy’s head over and over until it breaks and Richards throws it away leaving Candy a little bloodied. Richards climbs to her feet, as Candy raises a hand to her head and feels the welt and then sees the blood. Candy rolls to her side, but Richards grabs Candy and pulls her up to her feet and leans her against the ring post.
Simone: Well an interesting use of the candles.
Lunam: Which leaves Candy bloody and the candle broken and the ring more dim.
Richards holds Candy in place before releasing and goes for a roaring elbow but Candy ducks out of the way and Richards hits the ring post and screams out in pain as she drops to a knee holding her arm, while Candy drops to a knee for a moment as she shakes her arm and rubs her shoulder before focusing on wiping the blood from an eye, as she stands up. She then kicks out and catches Richards on the arm, Richards grimaces in pain, as Candy then delivers a superkick to Richards’ face and she drops down.
Simone: Ouch! Lucky she hasn’t broken her arm here.
Lunam: Candy ducks out of the way last minute from the roaring elbow. This gives Candy a moment to recover a little before kicking Richards in the arm and then follows up with a superkick.
Candy grabs Richards by the hair and drags her up before rolling her into the ring, where Candy climbs onto the apron and then through the ropes, where she turns and leaps onto ropes and this a springboard moonsault onto Richards and goes for a cover, but the ref doesn’t count and reminds Candy of the rules as she shakes her head. She makes her way to her feet, where she grabs Richards and pulls her up and drives her into the corner, where she takes a few steps backwards and rushes in and hits a step up enziguri.
Simone: Candy pushes Richards back into the ring, where she then hits a springboard moonsault and goes for a cover but is informed that she can’t win that way and she also shakes her head.
Lunam: nice step up enziguri from Candy.
Candy climbs back to her feet just as Richards steps out from the corner and Candy moves in and hits a monkey flip. Richards arches her back in pain as Candy climbs back to her feet, where she grabs Richards and pulls her up, where she Irish whips her into the ropes and as Richards comes back Candy tries for the Death by Chocolate (Mick Kick), but Richards ducks and skips passed Candy, Richards turns and with Candy unbalanced, Richards kicks the back of Candy’s knee, who drops to a single knee and Richards then fires in some martial art kicks to Candy’s body before hitting a roundhouse kick and catches Candy on the side of the head.
Simone: Candy continues to work over Richards, as she looks for the death by chocolate but Richards ducks it and catches the unsteady Candy in the back of the leg and proceeds to use her as a punch bag.
Lunam: and finalises it with a roundhouse kick.
Before Candy drops sideways, Richards drives a knee into her spine and the grabs her and locks in the Ghostlock (Dragon Sleeper with a body lock). Candy can’t fight or respond other than limply tap a hand on the mat.
Simone: Candy is done.
DING DING DING!
Richards keeps the submission hold in for a few extra seconds making sure that she makes a statement before releases and throws Candy sideways, before slowly makes her way to her feet.
Lunam: Well that was a little uncalled for… but Richards picks up an impressive win.
Justin: Winner of this match vis submission… Kayla Richards.
Richards music hits over the p.a, as the ref raises her arm in victory before releasing and return their focus on Candy.
Simone: I … Hold on, I’ve just gotten word something is happening in the back!
The camera immediately tears away from the ring to the backstage lot of Knott’s Scary Farm and it is complete pandemonium.*
Harper Mason is down. Half on her side against a service corridor wall, eyes fluttering, a vivid crimson gash opened just at the hairline. Blood soaked into her hairline and matted to her forehead. One med tech is already gloving up, another trying to keep her still.
Security is everywhere, scrambling, radios barking, one of them yelling for a stretcher.
And standing right over her is Victoria Lyons. Unblinking. Serene. Weaponized glove - the Lyons Paw - raised like a holy instrument. The metal talons are wet. There is no question what just happened. Victoria slowly kisses the metallic barbs.
Victoria: I called first dibs.
She rises as security swarms in, doesn’t struggle, doesn’t rush, just smiles as she’s pried back and escorted away, arm still proudly lifted like a queen returning from conquest.
Camera lingers on Harper, blood spreading across the cold concrete beneath her.
Cut back to ringside, chaos drowning the crowd.
Knott’s Scary Farm, beside the haunted maze entrance. Fog spills out from the doorway, orange lights flickering as Bella O’Connell steps into frame. She’s in full gear, red, blue, and orange ring attire inspired by Chucky’s iconic striped overalls and shirt, complete with subtle stitched detailing across her gloves and boots. Her hair is tied back but streaked with fake blood, adding to the horror aesthetic.
A prop voice echoes over the PA, Chucky himself, laughing maniacally.
Chucky: Well, well, look who’s dressed for the occasion! You gonna make me proud, sweetheart?
Bella smirks, looking over her shoulder at the puppet sitting on a crate beside Tiffany.
Bella: You know it, Chucky. It’s only fitting, isn’t it? The most dangerous doll in horror meets the most dangerous woman in SCW.
Tiffany lets out a mock gasp.
Tiffany: Ooh, I like her! She’s got bite.
Bella crouches beside them, the mischievous glint in her eyes perfectly matching the night’s twisted vibe.
Bella: Oh, I’ve got more than bite, Tiffany. Tonight’s the kind of night where I get to play, where I get to remind everyone that cute doesn’t mean safe. Just like you two.
She stands, rolling her neck, the faint screams from the haunted maze echoing behind her.
Bella: They say Halloween’s all about pretending to be something you’re not... but for me? This...
Bella gestures to her gear, to the fog, to the chaos around them.
Bella: This is who I really am. No mask. No act. Just a little blood, a little chaos, and a whole lot of fun.
Chucky cackles, kicking his little legs.
Chucky: That’s my kinda girl! Go raise some hell!
Bella leans toward him, a wicked grin spreading across her face.
Bella: Oh, I plan to. After all, playtime’s over...
She glances back at the camera, her tone dropping to something darker, pure Bella Madison.
Bella: ...and the Hardcore Queen’s ready to paint the night red.
She winks, walks off through the fog toward the ring entrance as the lights flicker and Chucky’s laughter echoes behind her.
The camera drifts toward a shuttered Victorian wing fused to the arena’s spine, stone black with rain, ivy slick and shining like wet veins. A brass lantern hisses above an iron-banded door; its halo sputters in the breeze and throws moth-shadows across the lintel. Water ticks from the eaves in steady pulses. Far inside, a pipe organ exhales a single low note that could be wind and feels like warning.
Simone: The High Stakes Finals has traded pyro for poltergeists. Tonight, it’s a Haunted House Brawl. Competitors can only win by pinfall anywhere inside, or by escaping through the front door.
Lunam: You win by finding daylight…or by putting someone flat in the dark. Simple. Ugly.
The oak yawns open of its own weight. Referee Jacob Summers stands in the threshold, rain freckling his shoulders, a hand torch pouring pale gold across a checkerboard foyer. The light catches dust drifting in lazy constellations. He angles the beam to the camera, steady, unafraid.
Fog crawls across the tile in a slow tide. A grandfather clock ticks a half-beat off somewhere deeper, the sound too loud for the size of the room. Gilt frames tilt along the walls, portraits of SCW Bombshells dancing over the years, whose eyes catch the torch and throw it back wrong.
A blue white silhouette cuts the light. Crystal Caldwell steps into the foyer like she paid for the place, ruffled blue top spilling to her knee, black lace skirting the boot tops. Those UGG-style boots thud on old wood, heavy and unhurried. She flicks her hair, smiles straight into the lens, razor-bright, and nudges a velvet rope stand aside with two careless fingers. It clatters against the baseboard; she doesn’t look back.
Simone: Mega heel, maximum confidence.
Lunam: It’s a premiere to her. To everyone else, it’s a wake.
The foyer breathes and the lights dim a shade; fog baffles ankle height. From a side corridor lined with leaning mirrors, a hard slash of red finds the upper gallery rail and Bella Madison slides into frame, hood up, jaw tight, eyes like flint under the brim. She doesn’t meet Crystal first. She inventories the room: staircase, hall of mirrors, service door cracked to a seam, front exit behind Summers, locked by presence if not by key.
The front door settles shut under its own hinge. The house goes a degree colder.
DING DING DING!
The bell’s thin chime rattles the picture hooks.
No circling; the room won’t allow it. Crystal dips into a mocking curtsy, heel theater in a haunted foyer. Bella answers without a blink: straight arm drag snaps Crystal to the rug and right back up by the wrist - chain to chain - hammerlock cinched, quick roll-through. Crystal slaps bicep, spins out. Flashing Lights whistles for Bella’s temple. Madison tucks under clean, pops behind, and dead-lifts a waistlock return that bumps Crystal’s hips to tile.
Simone: Bella is economy tonight…angles, leverage, breath. She wants that opportunity.
Lunam: Conversely, Crystal is all show.
Crystal crab-walks to the foot of the stairs and yanks a heavy portrait from its crooked nail. The glass is pre-scored, but the crowning smash still rings cruelly in the hollow room when it explodes across Bella’s shoulder. Wood and fake glass fountaining to the runner. Bella staggers to a knee; Crystal steps in and caves the sternum with Rotten Tomatoes, both palms flat and merciless. Air leaves in a bark.
Caldwell sprawls into a reverse sit for the camera—deuces flashed like a signature. Referee Summers dives.
ONE!
TWO!
Bella bridges, momentum spills her free, one arm clamped to her ribs, the other already stretching for a rope that isn’t there in this place.
Simone: Early cover forces a breath payment.
Lunam: Breath is the only currency that matters under this roof.
Bella’s reply is mean and clean. A Yakuza kick rings Crystal’s head off the banister; the wood stutters and groans. Snapmare down the runner, and Bella plants, rocks back into a surfboard, pulling her shoulders toward the ceiling. The chandelier above them sways on a tired chain; its prisms throw little knives of light across both faces. Summers’ hand hovers near the mat, his eyes on shoulders, not on ghosts.
Crystal plants both boot soles to the newel post, pistons — kicks through, tumbles free — palms kiss carpet, spine springs, Standing Ovation, spikes Bella, the impact safe but the sound wrong on old wood. Crystal’s smile cuts back into place like a blade sliding home. She pats Bella’s cheek, twice, patronizing, then points up the staircase as if she’s picking a set.
Simone: She’s scouting for weapons disguised as rooms.
Lunam: Every threshold in here is a trap if you know how to step.
Crystal reels Bella by the wrist and slings her through a bead curtain, plastic strands clack hollow, and into a hall of mirrors where the torch breaks into a dozen weak fires. The reflections throw Bella’s hooded shape down a receding tunnel; Summers multiplies behind them like a flock of shadows, but only one of him is counting.
Bella hits a foam-framed mirror belly-first and rebounds, boots finding grit beneath the runner. Instinct fires. She hits a tilt-a-whirl armdrag and Crystal sails, skids, and snaps to a three-quarter stance right into Smell The Roses, a handspring standing moonsault. She hooks the far leg deep
ONE!
TWO!
THR–!
Bella spikes a shoulder at 2.7, breath hot in fog.
Simone: Caldwell’s tempo gets mean in tight quarters.
Lunam: Madison keeps buying herself inches with exactness.
Crystal’s laugh fogs the nearest mirror. She tugs a velvet cord at hip height. One panel pivots on a concealed hinge and shows a service corridor beyond: a low ceiling, a single swaying bulb, scuffed tile arrowing toward… somewhere. Maybe the kitchen. Maybe the door. Maybe nowhere.
Crystal looks at the gap, head tilted, lashes low. The front door is that way eventually. She could chase daylight right now. She turns her back on it instead, eyes cutting to Bella like a dare.
Lunam: Not interested in the exit. She wants the pin on film.
Bella feints the Beautiful Disaster springboard, plants short and goes lower, Bella Aube, boot to the knee, a quick trip that yanks Crystal’s face toward the carpet. The hurricanrana spikes Caldwell into the runner and skids her half a body-length. Bella attempts to stack a pin, but Crystal rolls her hips hard, digs boot rubber into the nap, and kicks loose, hair stuck to her cheekbones, grin a little wider than before.
They rise in the same breath, chests heaving, fog threading calves. One mirror breathes out, condensation trickles like sweat. Somewhere above, a door unlatches with a soft, polite click that echoes like a promise.
Simone: The house is… participating.
Lunam: Then let’s see what it feeds them next.
Bella and Crystal both turn, almost together, toward the cracked service corridor the mirror betrayed. Summers shifts to keep both shoulders and the exit line in frame. The torch beam thins to a dull ribbon on tile as the three of them slip deeper, the clock in the foyer ticking the wrong time behind their backs.
They go. The service corridor is narrow, tiled in a hospital green that never existed in any hospital you’d want to wake up in. A single bulb swings on a tired chain, painting slow pendulum arcs across cracked paint and a line of dented lockers. Something scratches behind one of the metal doors, a drag-and-stall like nails deciding whether to commit.
Simone: We asked for atmosphere and this is feeding that need! I don’t think I would want to be in there, Erik.
Lunam: And the house hasn’t even started whispering names yet. How these Bombshells are hitting this and maintaining focus…
A figure stands at the far end, half-turned, a woman in a nurse’s cap, starched dress gone grey, calf-highs bright white against the grime. Her hands are folded at her apron. Her smile does not reach her eyes. When Summers’ torch touches her, she moves just enough to push a locker closed with two fingers. The slam ricochets the length of the corridor and shakes dust from the ceiling.
Crystal doesn’t flinch. She struts past Bella as if she hired the nurse for the bit. Bella reaches for a wrist. Crystal rolls it, pops the elbow, and heel-clicks the side of a locker to carom into a short enziguri that rings Bella against metal. Caldwell grabs a handful of hood and bounces Bella’s face (safe, flat) off a dented door, then shoves through a swing door into a kitchen. Low industrial fluorescents buzz with a wingless hum. Stainless counters, a rolling prep cart with its brake off, pots hanging like helmets from a rack. Fog fingers curl around toe-kicks. A fridge door whispers open and closed as if the house can’t make up its mind.
Two Victorian widows stand shoulder-to-shoulder at the far wall, faces veiled, hands gloved. They stare without moving. To their left, a porcelain-masked ballerina in pointe shoes dangles from a tangle of red ribbon like a marionette’s dream. When the bulb flickers, the ribbons sway.
Simone: Absolutely not! No!
Lunam: A haunted house! This is fantastic!
Crystal shoves the rolling cart with a little flourish, and it wheels toward Bella. Madison side steps and droptoe holds Caldwell face-first into the cart’s lower shelf, metal ringing dull. Bella handsplants, snaps up, and plants Beautiful Disaster, springboard enzuigiri off a steel prep table edge which tags Crystal on the ear. Caldwell sprawls, skids, grabs at air.
Bella doesn’t chase a cover yet. She hooks a head-and-arm, slices through hips, and slams in a DDT variant, safe crown to rubber mat, then floats over and snatches a leg.
ONE
TW- NO!
Simone: First clean two-point-nine, kitchen floor! Summers was right there with eyes on shoulders.
Lunam: The stainless steel is giving her a mirror. She knows how to play to one.
A woman in a witch’s hat appears in the pass window, lifting a silver cloche. Under it, nothing but fog empties onto the warmer like sighs. She sets the dome down with a click and wags a single finger at Bella. No words, just the admonishment of every bad fairy godmother you should have listened to. The plague doctor behind her, a man, tall, beaked mask, holds perfectly still, hands folded over a cane, eyes invisible; he does not touch, does not move.
Crystal spots the prep counter and the corner, she smiles. She lures Bella in, plants her boot to the middle rung of a rolling ladder that leads to the upper pantry, and when Madison surges, Curtain Call, she pistons a corner kick low between the uprights, the visual dirty and the contact safe on the inner thigh. Bella jolts, breath ragged. Crystal seizes the head, springboards off the lower shelf with both palms, and spikes a Standing Ovation. Bella tumbles across a rubber runner and into the shadow of the walk-in.
Crystal strides, blue ruffles swaying, and yanks the walk-in handle. The door swings; frost breath kisses the floor. Inside, stacked wire racks and steel pans shine like teeth. A little girl in a cracked porcelain mask stands in the back, arms at her sides, dress old-fashioned and bone white. She tilts her head when the door opens. That’s all.
Lunam: No, thank you.
Simone: Someone told a ghost our microphones were live.
Crystal smirks past the child and slams Bella’s shoulder into the door jamb, then stacks her on a folded moving blanket. Bella rolls her shoulder and snatches Crystal’s wrist mid-motion, threads a leg, and transitions to Bella Notte positioning – arm trapped, torque threatening the neck. Crystal senses the bridge coming and snakes free, boots squealing on the rubber mat as she breaks the angle and spills out of danger. She pops to a knee, eyes bright, hair wild, and grabs a sauce pan lid off a rack to clang it with a flourish like a slate.
Simone: Caldwell is rehearsing in real time.
Lunam: And Madison keeps rewriting the script on the margins.
They collide at center with an armdrag swarm, and Crystal skates her weight, lands cat-like, snapmares Bella and kicks between the shoulders, then handsprings… feints Smell The Roses. Bella rolls away and up behind her, hooks the waist, goes for the Whiplash, a pancaked Edge-O-Matic with the arm cinched. Crystal bounces and Bella drapes for the tight cover!
ONE!
TWO!
THR–
Crystal hooks the near arm and turns the stack, hips sharp, rope isn’t there—she uses the cart handle for a half-inch of leverage, Summers slaps her wrist off it with a barked “No!”. Bella kicks free at two-point-nine-five, fury flashing.
From the pass, the witch trio, of which there are three now, press palms flat to the glass, fog printing hand-shadows. One blows stardust that shouldn’t exist. It glitters and dies before it lands.
Simone: If the house can’t tip the scales, it will try to distract the eyes.
Lunam: Caldwell doesn’t need help; she needs chances. She’s making them.
Crystal snatches a sheet pan, Frisbees it, not for the head, but low, clips Bella’s shin. Madison’s base stutters; Crystal dropkicks the kneecap and sends Bella folding into the lower cabinet. Caldwell grabs a cloth napkin roll from a silver caddy, snaps it open like a cape, a diva’s flourish to the hard cam, and then whips it across Bella’s mouth as she yanks her up, not choking, just blinding, forcing Madison to fight the fabric for a heartbeat.
Bella rips it away just in time to eat a springboard armdrag off the prep table. Caldwell rides the momentum into the service door, slams it open with her shoulder, and disappears into a narrow stairwell sinking down.
Simone: That’s not toward the exit.
Lunam: That’s toward something the house doesn’t have on a brochure.
Bella follows on instinct. Summers pivots with them, torch beam slicing the dark, keeping shoulders and stairs in frame. The air turns cooler, then wetter. The steps open into a laundry room: stone floor glossy with seep, washers big as coffins, a slop sink that drips in metronome time. Someone has strung bed sheets from lines like surrender flags. They flutter as if breathed on. Behind one, a woman in a bridal veil stands perfectly still, bouquet clutched against her chest like a shield. Another sheet lifts and reveals two women in mourning black, heads bowed. A third sheet half-lifts, and behind it a man in a sackcloth scarecrow mask stands at full height, burlap stitched smile crooked. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t touch. He watches.
Simone: You wanted the women of Halloween. They brought their own aisle.
Lunam: The men are here too…ghosts with their hands in their pockets. Wonder who they got to play the parts?
Crystal whips a sheet aside and vanishes behind it. Bella charges through and catches a snapmare driver, Neuro-Mutilation, the motion’s hers, the instinct pure. She plants Crystal on a folded rug, the room gasping with the sound. Bella hooks both legs tight. Summers slides, slamming his hand down for a ONE, and suddenly, a banshee scream rips through the sheets. One of the veiled women, mouth wide beneath tulle, wailing at a pitch that feels like cold teeth in the ear. Bella flinches half a heartbeat, and it’s enough for Crystal, who kicks loose, shock in her own eyes at the escape.
Simone: That was air and sound and instinct, no hands, still enough to crack the second.
Lunam: The house finally did something useful for Crystal.
Caldwell rolls, uses the slop sink lip to pull up, water dribbling cold down her forearm. She wipes it across her face like warpaint and stalks into a tangle of sheets, disappearing and reappearing in slashes of white. Bella follows, hunting. For a moment the camera catches four Bellas and three Crystals in the linen veil, then the reality resolves, Crystal hooks the arm behind the back, hammerlock, tucks Bella’s head, That’s A Wrap loading like a guillotine waiting.
Bella fights the wrist, rolls the shoulder, throws a knee, and bullies Crystal back into a washer door–
CLANG!!
The latch pops; a smell like old roses and wet stone spills out. Caldwell’s grip loosens a fraction; Bella stacks for a schoolgirl, Close Up flickers in Crystal’s brain. She counters by snaring Bella’s arms with her legs, though not fully. The tangle collapses and both women spill apart on slick stone, chests heaving, hair clinging to cheeks.
From the doorway, the plague doctor has followed the torch’s edge to the threshold. He stands like a painting. He does not cross in. The bride lowers her bouquet an inch, as if approving or condemning.
Simone: We’re two rooms deep and nothing settled.
Lunam: Except the house likes an audience.
Crystal’s smile returns. Smaller now, serrated at the edges. She backs toward a narrow service stair that climbs up toward a door labeled MAINTENANCE, the paint flaking, padlock hanging busted like a tooth. She looks over her shoulder once, calculating.
She bolts up the steps, boots thudding wood, fog rising behind her like applause. Bella wipes a sheet corner across her mouth, sets her jaw, and goes after her. Summers takes the rail, torch throwing a ladder of light up the climb.
The house groans, old bones turning in the weather. Somewhere above, something drags something heavier than a chair.
Simone: Maintenance means catwalks. Means storage. Means edges.
Lunam: And edges mean decisions.
They rise into the dark. The maintenance door yawns into a half-lit catwalk above the old ballroom Scaffold planks, steel rails, and a ceiling forest of rigging. Below, sheet-covered furniture like sleeping animals and a grand piano under a drop cloth. Chandeliers netted against dust. Wind threads through busted panes, making every chain speak.
Simone: Height and history. Don’t look down.
Lunam: Don’t look away.
Crystal hits the catwalk first, hand sliding the rail, UGG soles loud on steel. Bella surges up behind her with a Yakuza kick to the small of the back. Crystal pitches into the guard, elbows bit into rust. Bella hooks Caldwell’s waist, but Crystal ramrods an elbow to the ribs and mule kicks the bad shin from the kitchen, buying a gasp. She snatches a hanging sandbag line and swings it like a pendulum, forcing Bella to duck as it whooshes past her ear and thuds the rail.
Simone: She won’t hit with it tonight. She’ll make you choose around it – every choice tonight has consequences and Bella knows what’s at stake.
Lunam: Choices make mistakes.
They grapple along the rail, shoulders brushing iron. Bella snap DDTs Crystal onto the plank.Caldwell rolls through on instinct, scooting on hips, eyes cutting to a service ladder that dives down to a balcony door. She goes for it, but Bella’s hand clamps her wrist, Beautiful Disaster from no runway, just a spring off the beam, calf slapping Crystal’s ear and spilling her to one knee.
Down on the ballroom floor, three veiled brides turn as one to look up, bouquets tilted. On the opposite balcony, a woman in a cracked harlequin mask waves a black-and-white pennant lazily, as if deciding who she prefers.
Simone: The house is keeping score.
Lunam: It’s grading on a scream curve.
Bella drags Crystal to the ladder cage. Ashes to Ashes, she pancakes the DDT, Caldwell’s crown safely kissed to wood, and Bella does not cover. Her eyes are on the EXIT rune glowing weakly beyond the balcony door below.
She points. The house answers. Somewhere, a bolt undogs with an old, wet groan.
Lunam: She’s reading the stipulation like a map. The longer they fight, the worse it might become, and a pin may be unattainable!
Bella drops onto the ladder and climbs down, fast and clean. Crystal slithers in pursuit, shaking the cobwebs, one hand rubbing the back of her head, the other reaching through the rungs to shove. Not enough to spill Bella, but enough to stall her two rungs. They hit the balcony at staggered intervals. The door ahead is chain-locked through a hasp.
From the hall beyond, a Victorian widow in mourning lifts her veil. She doesn’t touch them. She leans and lets a ring of keys slide off a nail and fall against the glass on their side. The clink is a bell.
Bella scoops the keys, her hands sure, breath hot. The first key fails, the second fails, but third turns! She yanks the chain free and kicks the door. It sticks because of the old and swollen wood, so she shoves shoulder-first. Behind her, Crystal spikes Standing Ovation, launching off the threshold itself and driving Bella to kneel, forearms braced against splinters.
Crystal sees the open run and hesitates for just a heartbeat. Her eyes flick to Summers, who’s kept pace along a stairwell to frame the door and their shoulders. The hesitation dies. Crystal snatches Bella’s wrist and hammers Rotten Tomatoes into the sternum. Bella folds, one knee dropping, palm splayed on the jamb.
Simone: Caldwell chose the door over the pin.
Lunam: Fame is a headline. Victory is a verb.
They burst into a narrow landing and the world rearranges. The house pulls them toward the foyer where a corridor of family portraits, all eyes scratched white. A ballerina steps from a shadowed alcove and pivots en pointe across their path just enough to make feet stutter. A plague doctor posts at the far end like a mile marker, cane planted, head cocked as if counting.
Crystal knifes past the dancer, boots skidding; Bella snaps a headscissors that flings Crystal into a side table. Candlesticks spin, no flame, just sparks where brass kisses stone. Bella bodies through, shoulder-first, and there, ahead is the front door, iron-banded, brass latch gleaming like an eye. Rain whispers against it, promising cold and clean. Summers steps wide, angling so the entire threshold and both women are on camera.
Simone: Escape ends it. That’s the law Summers laid down.
Lunam: You cannot sneak out of a haunted house. You have to be seen leaving.
Crystal tackles Bella against the door, breath washing the wood in a fog bloom. Bella posts her hands and shoves, spins Caldwell into the panel with a short forearm under the jaw, knee to the thigh. She reaches for the latch with one hand and tiny fingers tap the other side of the frosted glass at eye level. A porcelain mask, the little girl from the walk-in, stares in, rain pearling her hair like beads. No touch. Just presence. Bella’s eyes flick for a sliver of a second.
Human reflex, not fear.
Crystal rips her chance out of that breath. Curtain Call, low, dirty, she pistons the corner of her boot into the inner thigh again, legal, vile, effective. Bella’s knee buckles for a blink. Crystal yanks the latch, the old brass drops, the seal breaks with a cough of wind. The door blows inward a hand’s span, house pressure releasing, both women shove into the same aperture at once.
They jam!
Simone: That opening is barely a confession!
Lunam: Somebody’s life is measured in inches now.
Bella drives her shoulder, Crystal twists sideways, blue ruffles scraping iron. The widows in the foyer raise their veils and scream. Crystal turns her hips and dives, a starlet slip through a closing limo door. Her torso clears. A boot catches on the sill. She kicks once, twice, free, and she splashes out into rain, half-falling down the two stone steps to the landing.
Bella surges after, fingertips on Crystal’s heel as it vanishes. She gets one foot over the sill, the other still inside—the heavy door answers the draft and swings back into her shoulder, smacking her just shy of daylight. Summers’ hand slashes down, voice crisp in the storm, signaling for a bell.
DING! DING! DING!
The rain eats the last of the fog as Crystal stumbles backward on the wet stone, arms flung wide, hair lashed to her cheekbones, grin cut thin and triumphant. She looks up into the night, blinking water, and then back to the camera with two raised fingers in a sloppy V, victory or vanity, hard to tell.
Bella shoves the door fully open from inside and stands framed in the threshold, chest heaving, hood half-off, eyes steel-hard through the sheen. One more inch and the night was hers.
Simone: Crystal Caldwell escapes by inches—by heartbeats—and steals High Stakes on the front steps.
Lunam: No pin to argue, no hand to raise in a ring. Just Jacob Summers, a camera, and a door that decided who wanted it more in the last blink.
Summers steps onto the porch just enough to gesture the confirmation again for the audience, rain stippling his torch. Behind Bella, the house lights dim, the clock in the foyer finally ticks on the beat, and the brides bow their veils back into place.
Crystal backs down the steps, one hand on the rail, the other pointing at the door like a marquee. She doesn’t touch Bella; Bella doesn’t chase. The storm applauds in sheets.
Simone: The Haunted House Brawl promised daylight or darkness. Crystal found daylight first.
Lunam: And Bella Madison left teeth marks in the threshold on her way to it.
The lens lingers: Crystal on the landing, rain turning ruffles to ink; Bella in the doorway, the warm dark breathing at her back; the house staring with all its old, unblinking eyes. Then the door eases inward on its hinges, swallowing the foyer to shadow as the shot fades.
We fade back backstage, where Miles now stands beside a long table. The setting looks more like a lab than a locker room, thanks to a few props Kevin borrowed from one of the haunted mazes. The “detective” now wears thick latex gloves, goggles, and a biohazard apron over his coat. Carter stands nearby with his arms crossed, clearly amused.
Miles: According to my sources, the SCW World Championship, in the vile grasp of Alexander Raven, has become contaminated.
HBCarter:*playing along, but struggling to keep a straight face* Contaminated?
Miles: Indeed. Reports indicate residue... possible exposure to unidentifiable substances... likely hazardous to human touch. Frankly, the thing should be in quarantine.
Kevin:*off-camera, eating candy* So... you’re saying the belt needs to be disinfected?
Miles: Precisely, young mage. A thorough cleansing! Soap, bleach, maybe a touch of holy water.
HBCarter:*snorts* If it’s been in Raven’s hands, I’d suggest fire.
Miles: Ah, an excellent suggestion, Doctor Watson. Drastic, but effective!
HBCarter: You’re not burning the title, Miles.
Miles: Spoilsport.
He snaps on his gloves with exaggerated flair, pulling a bottle of sanitizer from his pocket.
Miles: Once I’ve retrieved the artifact, I’ll ensure it’s properly sanitized before returning it to its rightful owner, you, dear Watson. After all, cleanliness is next to championshipness.
HBCarter: That’s not a real saying.
Miles: It is now!
Kevin walks into frame, shaking his head, a candy bar in one hand and his phone in the other.
Kevin: Twitter’s gonna have a field day with this.
Miles: Good! The people must know the lengths I go to in the name of justice!
HBCarter:*deadpan* Justice smells like hand sanitizer and bad decisions.
Miles: And victory, my dear Watson... don’t forget victory.
The three exchange glances before Carter groans and walks off, muttering something about never letting Miles pick out their Halloween costumes again. Kevin follows him, laughing, while Miles remains behind, crouching dramatically beside an empty equipment case, holding his magnifying glass up like he’s just found the world’s greatest clue.
Miles: *to himself, in his accent even thicker* Somewhere... out there... the belt awaits. But not for long.
He tips his deerstalker hat to the camera as it fades to black, the words “THE CASE CONTINUES....” appearing on screen with a thunderclap.
The cameras find some dark corner backstage where Vincent Lyons is dressed as Game of Thrones character Ramsay Bolton flanked on both sides by Michael Myers and Jason Voorhees.
Vincent: everybody's having fun tonight there's costumes and candy and laughter but the darkness in the world hasn't gone away and people like us, we understand that don't we?
Vincent looks to both Myers and Jason who both stand silently still, their presence chilling.
Vincent: An estranged relationship with your sister, a strong bond with one's mother. We all have our darkness in our obsessions. Tonight when that bell rings for me and HP Carter all the fun and games stop and there will be nothing but blood and pain and agony.
Vincent pauses shortly.
Vincent: I know everybody wants HB Carter to be the hero tonight, but I will show everyone that their heroes are nothing more than lies. Just like Jon Snow lost the battle of the bastards to Ramsay Bolton and had to be saved by a woman. He needed Santa Stark to bring the Knights of the Vale in to save the day or he would have lost.
He smirks.
Vincent: Will Alexandra Calaway come save the day for you too Carter? Will you need her to get in between us to protect you? Because I promise you one thing. If you think this has a happy ending, you haven't been paying attention.
Vincent grins, before looking to Jason and Myers once more who continue to just stare.
Vincent: Yeah, these guys get it.
Vincent's face turns expressionless and the three of them stare into the camera together quietly just long enough to make it uncomfortable before the scene ends.
Justin: Your next match is the SLASHER PLAYGROUND match. Your challenger hails from Charlotte North Carolina!!! VINCENT LYONS!!!!!!
The lights dim, as a lions roar is heard, Vincent Lyons Jr appears on the stage in a black jacket as "Wretched and Divine" by Black Veil Brides starts, Vincent appears on stage, he looks around and makes a slow walk to the ring, looking at the fans cautiously. Once ringside, he rolls climbs into the ring and goes straight to a corner, where he sits and waits quietly
The dancing techno beat of Lady Gaga's LGBTQ anthem, "Born This Way" kicks up over the sound system. The crowd turns to the stage where Helluva Bottom Carter dances out onto the stage amidst the cheers of the SCW Universe! Clad in his favorite Ostrich jacket and sparkling lavender shades over his eyes, Carter bows and sweeps at the waist, blowing a kiss.
Justin: From Seattle, Washington, weighing one hundred and seventy six pounds, he is the "Hardcore Bottom" -- Helluva Bottom Carter!
Carter runs toward the ring, slapping hands offered out to him all around the ringside area. He then hops up onto the ring apron in a split and slides beneath the bottom rope. He crawls seductively on all fours until he arrives in his corner. He pulls himself up and removes his shades and jacket, passing them out to the ringside attendant before laying across the top corner, awaiting his opponent's introduction.
DING DING DING!
The bell rings. Vincent paces the ring with a wicked smirk, cracking his neck. Carter stretches in the corner, the crowd roaring with anticipation.
Tiffany: Look at these two—Carter all determination, Vincent is all ego. This is gonna be fun.
Chucky: Yeah, if your idea of “fun” is watching two guys beat the humanity outta each other.
Vincent charges first, Ionic Impact! A devastating curb stomp that echoes through the arena. Carter crumples.
Chucky: Ho-ho-ho! That’s how you open a show! Carter’s skull just bounced like a damn basketball!
Tiffany: You’d think after that, Vincent would just pin him and call it a night. But nope—he wants to play with his food.
Vincent poses arrogantly over Carter, taunting him. But Carter surges up, fury in his eyes. He hits a Spinning Wheel Kick right to Vincent’ jaw!
Tiffany: Ooooh, that’s gonna need reconstructive surgery!
Carter locks in a Guillotine Choke, wrenching back with all his strength.
Chucky: He’s squeezin’ tighter than I used to squeeze necks in Chicago!
Vincent thrashes, escapes, but Carter immediately transitions into The Lyons Grip! Vincent screams, his spine arching in agony.
Tiffany: That’s a torture hold if I’ve ever seen one! And I’ve seen a few, baby.
Carter lets go, hits a Flying Mayorana, then a Standing Dropkick! The crowd’s electric, until the arena lights flicker.
Chucky: Uh-oh… that’s not a power surge, that’s a mood shift!
The fog thickens around the ramp. The titantron glitches. And out of the mist steps Ghostface, brandishing a bloody knife.
Tiffany: Oh, hell yeah! It’s a party now!
Ghostface slides into the ring, ducking under a rope. He grabs Carter by the hair but Carter counters with a back elbow, sending Ghostface stumbling. Vincent sees an opening and clobbers Carter from behind!
Chucky: Double trouble! That’s teamwork, baby, evil teamwork!
Ghostface slashes at Carter’s arm, slicing fabric and skin. Carter yells, blood trickling down.
Tiffany: Don’t bleed too much, sweetheart, you’ll stain the mat!
But then the crowd erupts again as Jason Voorhees lumbers out from the fog, machete in hand.
Chucky: Oh crap—now it’s a real deathmatch!
Jason climbs onto the apron, swatting Ghostface aside like a fly, then grabs Vincent by the throat! Vincent kicks and punches, but Jason chokeslams him through the announcer’s table!
Tiffany: (Screaming) Our table! Jason, you brute!
Chucky: Relax, Tiff—it’s kinda hot!
As Jason roars, another shape emerges … Michael Myers, knife gleaming. He slides into the ring behind Carter.
Tiffany: Watch your back, baby!
Carter turns just in time to duck Myers’ knife swipe and springboards off the ropes, Flying Knee Strike! The blow staggers the Shape!
Chucky: No way! Carter just knocked Michael freakin’ Myers off balance! That’s insane!
But Myers doesn’t fall. He turns his head slowly, eyes void of anything human. The crowd screams as Freddy Krueger appears behind him, scraping his claws together.
Freddy (mocking through the mic feed): Mind if I cut in?
Freddy slashes at Myers, sending sparks flying as blade meets blade. The horror legends brawl ringside while security flees.
Tiffany: This isn’t a wrestling match anymore—this is Hell’s Royal Rumble!
Inside the ring, Carter crawls to his feet, only to be blindsided by The Grabber, who yanks him up by the throat!
Chucky: Oh, it’s the mask creep from earlier! Look at him manhandle Carter like a rag doll!
The Grabber tosses Carter into the barbed wire, shredding his back open.
Tiffany: Yikes! That’s gotta hurt. I felt that one in my fillings.
Vincent staggers back in the ring, bleeding and smiling. He grabs Carter’s limp body … Lyons Roar DDT!
Chucky: That’s it! He’s done! Count it!
Tiffany: One! Two! No! He kicked out! Unbelievable!
Suddenly, the arena plunges into darkness. The lights return—The Masked Killer is standing behind Vincent, head tilted.
Chucky: Uh oh… Vincent, buddy, turn around!
Too late. The Killer cracks a steel chair across Vincent’ skull! Carter crawls, covered in blood, onto Vincent for the pin.
Tiffany: One! Two! Wait! Jason pulls the ref outta the ring!
Chucky: No way! The monsters are sabotagin’ the finish!
Myers grabs Freddy by the throat, slamming him through the timekeeper’s table, while Ghostface leaps off the ropes trying to gut Carter again, only to be met mid-air with a Superkick!
Tiffany: Oh, that was gorgeous! Right in the mask!
Carter, barely standing, climbs the turnbuckle. Blood dripping, chest heaving! He leaps and he hits Fruit Fly aka the Eclipse!
Chucky: That’s it! End him, kid!
Carter hooks the leg as every slasher turns to watch.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
DING DING DING!
The crowd explodes. Carter collapses on the mat, drenched in sweat and blood.
Tiffany: Carter did it! Against Vincent—and a parade of maniacs!
Chucky: That was more than a match—that was survival of the sickest!
Tiffany: Look at him stand tall—bleeding, broken, but breathing. That’s the definition of a champion!
Chucky: Yeah, until one of those slashers decides to make him an after-dinner snack.
Tiffany: He better run, baby—‘cause in Slasher’s Playground, nobody gets a happy ending.
Justin: Here is your winner! Helluva Bottom Carter!!!
Chucky: OHHHH BABY, CHAOS TIME! Just when Carter’s about to seal the deal! LOOK OUT!!!
Tiffany: TURN AROUND, SWEETY! CARTER, TURN AROUND!!
Alexander Raven slides in like a venomous shadow with the world title belt clenched in his hands like a guillotine blade! He swings…!
Chucky: He ain’t forgettin’ you fed him straight to Jason Voorhees you little pink demon!
CRACK … NO!! Carter ducks by pure instinct! The belt WHOOSHES just inches over his head! Carter fires a lightning-fast right fist and catches Raven flush in the jaw! Raven reels back and Carter SNATCHES the championship belt!
Tiffany: OH GET IT, BABY!
The two men fight over it in a tug-of-war over the SCW World Heavyweight Championship! The crowd is losing their collective minds!
Chucky: Raven’s still salty over getting tossed out the High Stakes tournament like old bathwater! LOOK AT HIS FACE!!
Raven’s grip SLIPS and Carter RIPS the belt free and he begins swinging the belt across Raven’s exposed back as Alexander losing his footing and takes a knee to the mat! THREE vicious lashes across Raven’s spine with the championship! Raven YELLS and dives out of the ring in retreat! FUMING. LIVID. POINTING BACK IN!
Tiffany: Carter has the championship back!
Raven backs up the ramp, red-faced, screaming obscenities—eyes locked on Carter like a beast starved for blood. Carter stands tall in the corner, twirling the belt once before HOISTING IT HIGH ABOVE HIS HEAD, staring a hole straight through Raven.
Chucky: Message sent. And oh boy… Raven got the receipt ready. This is FAR from over. Oh man… I love this job!
Chucky gives his signature laugh.
Tiffany: Me too, baby. Me too.
Together: HAPPY HALLOWEEN EVERYBODY! SEE YOU AT HIGH STAKES XV!!!
The camera closes out on Carter celebrating inside of the ring with his retrieved championship title belt as the camera fades out!
THANK YOU! To everyone who wrote for this show. Match writers and segments are always appreciated and highly valued! Without all of you, there would be no SCW!