Climax Control Results

The cameras fade in on a crystal-clear winter night in Colorado Springs.

Outside, the Broadmoor World Arena rises against the backdrop of dark mountains. A few tasteful wreaths hang along the entrance doors, and strands of white lights outline the awnings in clean lines rather than gaudy clusters. Fans in jackets and scarves push through the revolving doors, some wearing Santa hats or reindeer antlers over SCW merchandise as their breath fogs in the air.

The scene cuts to a sweeping crane shot inside the Broadmoor World Arena. The place is alive. Rows upon rows of fans surround the six-sided ring, the seats filled with a restless energy. The hard camera takes in the full vista: banners for SCW hanging from the rafters, a handful of subtle holiday touches mixed into the usual spectacle. The entrance stage has trimmed, squared-off garlands wrapped along its edges, with a pair of Christmas trees standing on either side of the ramp, decorated with metallic ornaments and just enough tinsel to shimmer under the lights. The camera glides down toward the ring, where the six-sided battlefield waits. The apron is clean, the SCW logo sharp at center canvas. Standing dead center in the ring, microphone in hand, is ring announcer Justin Decent. He’s dressed for the season in his own signature way: a sharply tailored emerald jacket over a crisp black shirt and tie, with a subtle red pocket square tucked neatly into his breast pocket. His hair is perfectly styled, and there’s a spark in his eyes as he looks around at the thousands of fans who are already on their feet.

Justin: Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, wrestling fans of all ages packed right here in Colorado Springs, Colorado! Welcome to the Broadmoor World Arena!

The crowd responds with a rolling cheer!

Justin: Tonight, Sin City Wrestling is proud to bring Climax Control to one of the most beautiful cities in the entire country!

A loud pop rolls through the stands. Some fans wave handmade signs, their edges decorated in candy cane stripes and tiny drawn snowflakes. The camera cuts briefly to a shot of the local crowd, faces lit with anticipation.

Justin: You have packed this arena to the rafters, and all of us here in SCW want to say thank you for joining us on the road to the holidays! We have an incredible night of action lined up for you. Grudges will be settled, statements will be made, and every single one of you is going to leave this arena tonight knowing you were part of something special!

The fans answer with another thunderous cheer!

Crowd: SCW! SCW! SCW!

Justin: But before we get to the in-ring chaos, we are going to start this evening the only way Sin City Wrestling knows how! Colorado Springs, please help me welcome SCW’s Hostess With The Mostess! Miss Amanda Hugginkiss!

He gestures grandly toward the stage, his free hand sweeping outward as the arena lights shift. The crowd instantly perks up, cheers rising as the curtains at the top of the ramp part. Miss Amanda Hugginkiss steps out onto the stage with all the theatrical timing of a seasoned diva. Tonight, she’s dressed in a glamorous holiday-adjacent ensemble: a fitted, shimmering red cocktail dress with a sweetheart neckline, trimmed subtly in soft white along the hem and cuffs. Her heels catch the light with every step, and a delicate, almost halo-like headpiece of silver stars sits in her hair instead of anything as obvious as a Santa hat.

She pauses at the top of the ramp, planting one hand on her hip, the other raised overhead in a flourish as she turns to give each side of the arena their moment. Amanda remains onstage and looks out to the fans at ringside and does a double take.

Amanda: Oh honey, that sweater. I did not realize the North Pole had a clearance section!

The fans around them erupt in laughter and delighted shrieks. The woman herself half-covers her face, laughing and shaking her head, clearly in on the fun. Amanda pats her cheek gently, as if to soften the jab, then turns to address the wider audience.

Amanda: But I will say this. Only a very brave woman could pull that off. And by pull that off, I mean pull it off your body and set it on fire behind the arena where no one has to see it again.

The first few rows howl with laughter, some fans clapping and pointing toward the woman, who gamely spins around to show off the back of the sweater, thus milking the moment even further.

Amanda winks at her and keeps moving along the barricade until a camera closes in on another corner of the front row. There, a younger guy in his early twenties stands, wide-eyed and already a little pink in the face. He wears a snug SCW t-shirt under an unzipped hoodie, and his holiday contribution is a pair of light-up antlers that flicker on his head with each movement. Miss Amanda slows to a stop directly in front of him, planting one heel against the bottom step to the ring but not climbing it just yet. She tilts her head, studying him like a piece of art.

Amanda: Oh. My. Goodness. Look at you. What’s your name, sugar?

He shouts his name up at her over the noise. The mic just barely catches it clear enough for the audience.

Amanda: Well, hello, handsome. Tell me, did you come alone tonight, or did you bring a chaperone to keep all of us from getting into trouble with you?

The people around him start nudging his shoulders, chanting and whistling, emboldening him. He shouts back something about being there with his friends and not needing a chaperone.

Amanda: No chaperone. Brave and adorable. Colorado Springs, you raise them very well!

She lets the crowd cheer for him, then leans in a little closer, glancing up and down with exaggerated appreciation.

Amanda: I just have one warning for you, sweetheart. If the camera cuts to you looking that cute again tonight, and you’re still wearing that hoodie, I might just have to come down here and personally help you take it off. Purely for ratings.

The section explodes into a combination of hoots and screams, and the young man practically grinning from ear to ear. A chant of Take it off briefly flares up, directed more at him than at her, and Amanda fans herself theatrically with her free hand.

Amanda: Not yet, not yet. It’s still early. We have to pace ourselves, darlings.

The spotlight narrows slightly, framing Miss Amanda in a soft, bright circle as the music fades down to a low undercurrent and then cuts entirely, leaving only the hum of the crowd. She stands in the middle of the six-sided ring, rotates slowly to take in the thronging fans on every side, and then lifts the microphone to her lips with a delighted smile.

Amanda: Colorado Springs, Colorado, before we get to the body slams and the heartbreak, there is only one way that Miss Amanda Hugginkiss knows how to open a show properly. I am going to start this night the right way. With a song.

The fans cheer, some chanting her name, others clapping a slow rhythm in anticipation.

Amanda: So sit back, stand up, scream your hearts out—whatever you want to do—because your Hostess With The Mostess is about to give Colorado Springs a performance worthy of the season and worthy of Sin City Wrestling

Amanda: I was home alone on Christmas, in my slippers feelin’ wrong,
Watching cheesy rom-com reruns, singing “All I Need Is Strong.”
Then my lights began to flicker, heard a cold and sultry tone,
“Girl, we heard you’re single… you should never be alone.”

Out the window snow was swirlin’, then it blew right through my door,
And in floated someone gorgeous like a vintage pin-up score.
Leather jacket, perfect jawline, hair that made me wanna gasp,
He said, “I’m your first appointment, I’m the Ghost of Christmas Past.”

I got three hot ghosts on my Christmas Eve,
Ringin’ all my jingle bells before they take their leave.
They’re floatin’ through the bedroom, dancin’ down the hall,
Got me sayin’ “Deck these halls” and “Bless this call.”

It’s a paranormal party, baby, who’d believe?
I’m gettin’ spirit-fingered by the Christmas Eve.
Not in that way, keep it classy, keep it cute,
Just a little ghostly flirting in a fabulous suit.

Past took my hand so gently, said, “Remember that old flame?
When your dates were all disasters and you never knew their name?”
He showed me all my exes like a tragic fashion show,
Bad haircuts, messy feelings, and potential no, no, no.

Then he winked and snapped his fingers, all my glow-ups reappeared,
Every time I found my power, every time the crowd had cheered.
“Baby, you survived all that,” he said, “now look who’s in demand.”
And he kissed me on the cheek and slipped a snowflake in my hand.

The clock chimed once, the room went hush,
I felt my little drag heart rush.
Past disappeared in glitter mist,
And then I felt another twist.

I got three hot ghosts on my Christmas Eve,
Ringin’ all my jingle bells before they take their leave.
They’re floatin’ through the bedroom, dancin’ down the hall,
Got me sayin’ “Santa, you can take the year off, y’all.”

It’s a spectral situation, call it holi-slay couture,
Little haunting, lots of teasing, nothin’ you can’t show on tour.
When the veil gets thin and the snowflakes weave,
You might just get a visit on your Christmas Eve.

Then came Christmas Present with a body-ody-ody,
Like a tall glass of cocoa, extra marshmallow, extra naughty.
In a velvet suit of emerald with a candy-cane cravat,
He said, “I’m the Ghost of Right Now, boo, let’s talk about all that.”

He showed me in my living room, alone with takeout fries,
Scrollin’ through my phone all night instead of lookin’ in their eyes.
“You’re busy bein’ fabulous, but don’t hide behind the screen,
The best gift you can give yourself is living like a queen.”

Then he pulled me to the mirror, whispered, “Look what you’ve become.
You’re the present, you’re the package, you’re the beat of every drum.
So tonight if you feel lonely, just remember who you are.”
Then he traced my lips in starlight like a falling Christmas star.

“I said, ‘Now hold up. Past was charming, Present is fine
Am I about to be haunted by a whole calendar of snacks?’”

Then the lights went low, the snow got still,
I felt a little tingle, got a candy-cane chill.
The window frosted over in a silver lace,
And from the shadows stepped a figure with an angel face.

Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come was tall, mysterious, and sleek,
Cloak of midnight, eyes of starlight, with a smile that made me weak.
Didn’t say a single word at first, just held out glowing hands,
Showed me future Christmas parties in a hundred sparkly lands.

I saw sold-out holiday drag shows, I saw friends both old and new,
I saw someone in the front row blowing kisses, maybe two.
I saw houses full of laughter where my stockings always hung,
Saw the years keep rollin’ forward but my heart stayed fierce and young.

Then he turned and showed me one more scene, a fireplace burning low,
Me in slippers, messy wig cap, bathed in candle glow.
Surrounded by my chosen fam, no empty chair in sight,
He leaned in close and whispered, “This is where you’re headed, bright.”

Three hot ghosts on Christmas Eve,
Each with something up their sleeve.
Past and Present, Yet To Come,
Played my heart like a little toy drum.

I got three hot ghosts on my Christmas Eve,
They came to sleigh my loneliness and quietly take their leave.
From the vintage boy in leather to the velvet daddy king,
To the midnight mystery future with that wedding-bell bling.

They didn’t need a chimney, didn’t need a sleigh,
Just a queen who left her heart light on that frosty holiday.
Now I’m sippin’ cocoa with a brand new weave,
Thanking three hot ghosts for my Christmas Eve.

“Past taught me I’m a survivor,
Present told me I’m the gift,
Future said, ‘Baby, love is on the way.
So keep that tree lit, keep that lip gloss handy,
And if a hot ghost knocks on your window
Let the spirits in.”

The song ends with a final, dramatic flourish of horns and glittering synth. Miss Amanda Hugginkiss stands at center stage, arms spread wide, chin tilted up with theatrical pride. The crowd inside the Broadmoor World Arena erupts into cheers, applause rolling from the floor seats up through the upper deck.

Amanda prances along the edge of the stage, blowing extravagant kisses to every section of the arena. She twirls once, letting the hem of her shimmering red dress spin out in a glittering circle under the lights. She pauses to wink toward the hard camera, taps her cheek with one manicured finger, then struts toward the curtains. She turns back one last time, raising both hands to bask in the final wave of cheers before slipping behind the curtains with a playful swirl, disappearing into the backstage area.

The camera fades from the stage lights and transitions downward toward the ringside area.

A wide shot captures the broadcasters’ table at the base of the ramp, framed by the roaring crowd behind it. Christmas-adjacent décor lines the desk, just a subtle string of white lights and a pair of small evergreen branches at either end, nothing too gaudy. The SCW logo glows on the front panel.

Seated behind the table are Belinda Simone and Erik Lunam, headsets on, notes spread neatly between them. Belinda wears a sleek dark blazer paired with a soft emerald top, nodding along with the energy of the crowd. Erik sits beside her, slightly leaning forward, a wry smile on his lips. His wild hair is tied back, and his green tie carries just a hint of festive flair.

Simone: Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Climax Control here in the beautiful Broadmoor World Arena. We are directly in the middle the holiday season, and tonight, SCW is bringing the action right here to Colorado Springs!

Lunam: Ah go on now, ye can feel tha’ chill o’ winter in the air, Belinda, but inside this arena tonight it’s nothin’ but fire, chaos, an’ a whole lotta passion from the best roster in the world. This place is packed ta’ the roof, an’ every one o’ these fans is ready for the madness we’ve got lined up!

Simone: After that performance from Miss Amanda Hugginkiss, the bar is already set high. The energy tonight is incredible, and we’re not wasting any time getting into the action!

Lunam: That’s tha’ spirit, Belinda. Amanda’s warmed ‘em up good, yeah? Now it’s time fer the blood, sweat, and glory we promised. Climax Control is rollin’ into the holidays with full force, an’ every match tonight means somethin’ big as we march toward the end o’ the year!

Simone: We have a stacked lineup tonight. Rivalries are heating up, momentum is shifting, and the road to the final show of the year has never been more exciting. Colorado Springs, SCW is giving you a night to remember!

Lunam: Aye, ye better believe it. We’ve got talent ready ta’ tear the roof clean off this place, belts on tha’ line, pride on tha’ line, an’ more than a few grudges ready ta’ explode. So buckle in, lads and ladies. Ye’re about ta’ see why Climax Control is the show everyone talks about!

Simone: Let’s take you through tonight’s lineup and show you exactly what’s ahead here in Colorado Springs.

Lunam: Openin’ the night, we’ve got a clash that’s already stirrin’ up the diehards online, Belinda. The privileged, third-generation brat himself, Brayden Hilton, is struttin’ in like the world owes ‘im the main event every week. But tonight, the lad’s got the pure misfortune of steppin’ into the ring with the Clown Prince of Chaos, Anthrax. An’ let me tell ye, that painted madman doesn’t care about yer family name, yer legacy, or yer daddy’s money. He just wants ta’ watch Brayden’s ego melt like snow on the stage lights when the bell rings.

Simone: That match is going to be wild, and so is the next one. LJ Kasey is stepping into the ring against the man who calls himself the last real veteran in SCW, Bulldog Bill Barnhart. Bill has made it very clear he thinks the younger generation, LJ specifically, has no respect for the men who paved the road they’re walking. LJ wants to prove he belongs here and belongs in the spotlight today, not just tomorrow. This is pride versus progress, and neither man is interested in stepping aside.

Lunam: Then we’re takin’ a violent turn down the alleyway of madness with a triple threat hardcore brawl, and it’s gonna be bloody brilliant. The self-proclaimed queen o’ hardcore herself, Bella Madison, is out to prove she’s the toughest woman in the division. But she’s facin’ Bea Barnhart, who’ll happily break a face with a steel chair, and the former World Champion Frankie Holliday, who’s held gold at the highest level an’ knows how to thrive when the rules are gone. Three Bombshells, no conscience, no limits, and a whole lotta broken furniture before the night’s done.

Simone: And speaking of champions, non-title action tonight sees Bombshell Roulette Champion Alicia Lukas in the ring against Seleana Zdunich. Alicia already knows her next defense comes at Inception VIII, where Alexandra Calaway will challenge her for the title. But tonight is a chance to test herself against another former champion in Seleana, a woman who knows Alicia’s offense and has the experience to push her into dangerous waters. This could be momentum gained, or shaken, heading toward Inception.

Lunam: Tonight also gives Logan Hunter a break from the non-stop punishment that General Manager Evelyn Hall’s been handin’ him for weeks. Instead o’ another floggin’, he gets what he asked for, a straight fight. Logan steps inside the ropes with SCW’s Angry Officer himself, Liam Davis. Liam’s not here for sweet talk or forgiveness. He hits like a batterin’ ram, and if Logan thinks tonight’s a vacation from pain, he’s about ta’ learn the hard way that Davis is the punishment.

Simone: And before we get to the Main Event, a match with major implications. At Inception VIII, Alex Jones will challenge Miles Kasey for the Internet Championship. Tonight, he faces the one man who pushed Miles to the absolute limit twice in a row, Ryan Keys. Keys has proven he’s capable of beating champions even without the title on the line. And Alex Jones wants to send a message straight to Miles’s doorstep: if Keys couldn’t break him, Alex will. But first, he has to get past the challenge standing right in front of him.

Lunam: Tonight’s Main Event is huge. At Inception VIII, Victoria Lyons defends her Internet Championship against Harper Mason, but tonight she’s facin’ the woman challengin’ for the Bombshell Roulette title, Alexandra Calaway. Two future title matches cross paths right here in Colorado Springs. The champ wants momentum, the challenger wants proof, an’ neither of ‘em will give an inch. This is the kind o’ match that changes the shape of Inception before we even get there.

Simone: All this and more on SCW Climax Control!

Narrator: Tired of the wholesome joy of the holiday season?
Sick of peace on earth and goodwill toward men?
Do you long for something more… emotionally destructive?
Then get ready for the one product guaranteed to raise your blood pressure and destroy your spirit of merry cooperation!
Introducing… Pre-Tangled Christmas Lights!
Skip the unboxing and go straight to the screaming!

SFX: Overly dramatic whoosh. Shiny graphic of a mangled ball of lights spins on screen!

Narrator: These are not your grandmother’s lights!
These are not your neighbor’s lights!
These are not even your lights!
These are your personal holiday breakdown in cord form!

Cut to Logan Hunter in full gear, standing in front of a sad, undecorated tree.

Logan: Christmas is about suffering. So when they asked me what product truly embodies the holiday grind… this was it!

He holds up a PERFECTLY ROUND, HORRIBLY KNOTTED BALL of lights!

Logan: This is not a decoration! This is a lifestyle choice!

Narrator: Each set of Pre-Tangled Christmas Lights arrives from the factory in a carefully engineered nightmare ball configuration! Professionally twisted! Artistically knotted! Scientifically designed to never make sense!

ON SCREEN: Zoom into the ball as cords loop in impossible ways!

Narrator: Spend hours trying to find the beginning! The end! Or your will to go on!

Cut back to Logan, already mildly annoyed.

Logan: I have gone to war in the ring! I have been through tables! Chairs! Even a Christmas street fight! None of that prepared me for this!

He yanks on one cord. The entire ball tightens even more!

Logan: How did it get worse!? I pulled one thing! How did everything get worse!?!?

Narrator: But wait! There is more!

DRAMATIC STING.

Narrator: Every single set of Pre-Tangled Christmas Lights includes one mysteriously flickering bulb that cannot be located!

Close-up on Logan’s eye twitching.

Logan: You’re telling me … Somewhere in this glowing ball of rage … There is one bulb causing all of this!?

Narrator: Yes! One bulb! Nowhere to be found! Always flickering! Forever mocking you!

Cut to fake tech expert in a holiday sweater, surrounded by more tangled lights.

Holiday Tech Expert: We use advanced randomization technology to ensure the flickering bulb moves. Sometimes it is on the left. Sometimes it is on the right. Sometimes it is possibly in another dimension!

Screen graphic: Scientific looking chart labeled Flicker Chaos Index climbing into the red.

Narrator: Other brands promise neat, organized light storage. We promise something more authentic.

Zoom in on the box: bold red stamp on the front reading Just Like Real Life.

Narrator: Just Like Real Life! Because you were never going to wrap them properly anyway!

Cut to Logan trying to stretch the lights across the tree. As soon as he pulls one section, another tightens and lifts a chair off the ground.

Logan: I have had easier tag partners than this string of lights!

He wrestles with it like an opponent, ending in a messy tie-up!

Narrator: Do you have family coming over? Do you want your in-laws to see what emotional collapse looks like in real time?

Family of Background Actors enters the frame: Mom, Dad, Grandma. The tree is bare. Logan is in the corner wrestling the light ball.

Mom: Logan? Do you need help?

Logan: No! I need therapy!

Grandma: Back in my day we tangled our lights ourselves.

Narrator: No more, Grandma! Pre-Tangled Christmas Lights saves you time! Why waste precious minutes creating a mess when we can deliver one to your door ready to destroy your patience?

ON SCREEN TEXT in huge letters: SKIP THE UNBOXING AND GO STRAIGHT TO THE SCREAMING.

Narrator: Still not convinced?

Cut to Logan now completely wrapped in lights, blinking, the flickering bulb somewhere near his face.

Logan: You think you know frustration? Try cutting a promo while you can feel the flickering but you cannot see the flickering!

He turns his head slowly, trying to spot it. The camera zooms in on one bulb behind his shoulder blinking just out of his sightline.

Logan: Where are you!? Show yourself! Coward!

Narrator: Perfect for…!
Holiday parties!
Family gatherings!
Office morale destruction!
And that one neighbor who starts decorating in November and needs to be humbled!

Cut to Neighbor character, smug, in front of a perfectly lit house.

Neighbor: I hand-roll and color-coordinate every light with a catalog system and an app!

Logan hurls him a box of Pre-Tangled Christmas Lights.

Logan: Congratulations! Now you are one of us!

Smash cut to Neighbor hours later, hair wild, surrounded by light knots.

Neighbor: They are alive! The cords are alive!

Narrator: Order now and you will receive…!
One factory-tangled nightmare ball of lights!
In your choice of colors!
White!
Multicolor!
Or the limited edition Anxiety Glow that randomly changes brightness!

Plus! We will throw in a second ball of lights that is somehow tangled with the first one! Even though they were shipped in separate bags!

Side-by-side image of two separate transparent bags. Inside, the cords are somehow crossing between them.

Narrator: How is that possible? We do not know! Holiday magic!

Cut back to Logan. The tree is still completely bare. He is now sweating, lights everywhere, the family quietly backing away.

Logan: I have headlined shows in front of thousands! I have survived some of the most brutal matches SCW can offer! Pre-Tangled Christmas Lights is my toughest opponent!

Narrator: Is Christmas too peaceful?
Are your evenings too calm?
Do you miss the thrill of questioning every decision you have ever made?
Then you need Pre-Tangled Christmas Lights!

ON SCREEN: Phone number and website appear with classic infomercial vibes.

Narrator: Call the number on your screen or visit our site right now! If you call in the next ten minutes, we will upgrade your order to the extended chaos package!

Graphic: Extended Chaos Package explodes onto the screen.

Narrator: You will receive…
The original tangled nightmare ball!
A second mystery-tangled set!
And a bonus mini string designed to tangle itself around anything that comes within three feet! Doorknobs! Pets! Children! That one relative who will not leave!

Cut to Logan finally managing to get the lights onto the tree in a clumpy mess. The entire tree pulses light, then all go out except one flickering bulb.

Logan: Of course…!

Narrator: Pre-Tangled Christmas Lights! Skip the unboxing and go straight to the screaming! Just Like Real Life!

Logan stares at camera, resigned.

Logan: Happy freaking holidays!

The single flickering bulb keeps blinking as the screen fades to the order info one last time.

The camera cuts to a dim, forgotten stretch of the backstage area, somewhere between the loading dock and the boiler room where the concrete walls sweat and the overhead lights flicker more than they shine. A lone, dented metal chair sits in the middle of the hallway, and on it, hunched forward with his elbows on his knees, is Anthrax.

He’s wearing a Santa hat, the red fabric stained and frayed along the white trim, the pom-pom hanging limp and dirty against the back of his neck. His ring gear is half-done, boots laced but pads loose, tape dangling from one wrist where he stopped halfway through wrapping it. His hair hangs wet and stringy in his face, shadowing his eyes as he stares dead ahead at a point on the floor that the camera can’t see.

On the concrete in front of him, smeared in something dark and rusty, are uneven circles and jagged lines, like someone tried to draw snowflakes and forgot what they looked like halfway through. One of the overhead bulbs pops and dies, sending a brief shower of glass dust to the floor. Anthrax doesn’t flinch. He just slowly tilts his head to one side, then the other, as if listening to something only he can hear in the ringing silence that follows.

The camera pans back to reveal Ms. Rocky Mountains stepping cautiously into view from the far end of the hallway, mic in hand. She slows as she sees him, her confident stride faltering into a hesitant tiptoe. Her eyes move from the smeared patterns on the floor to the Santa hat to the faint, unnerving smile tugging at one corner of Anthrax’s mouth. He still doesn’t blink, doesn’t move, the hat looking more like part of some twisted ritual than a festive accessory.

Ms. Rocky Mountains takes another step forward, then stops dead when Anthrax’s head snaps suddenly toward the camera, his gaze cutting through the lens with an eerie, empty focus. His lips curl upward just a fraction, that tiny, joyless grin stretching wider as the camera zooms in on his unblinking eyes. The mic in her hand lowers slowly, her shoulders tensing.

She stares at him for a long, uneasy beat, the hallway buzzing faintly with the dying hum of the lights overhead. Anthrax leans back in the chair ever so slightly, the Santa hat slipping crooked over one eye, staring straight through her, the smile never reaching his eyes.

Ms. Rocky Mountains: To hell with this!

She pivots on her heel and hurries out of frame, heels clacking faster and faster against the concrete until the sound vanishes. The camera lingers on Anthrax, alone in the flickering half-light, his silent, twisted grin fixed as the shot slowly fades to black.

Lunam: Wow, Belinda, we have an interesting match to open Climax Control tonight. Brayden Hilton got himself in a bind after he went off on nearly everyone on the roster. Now he has to face Anthrax who is a wrestler beyond explanation.

Simone: Well, Erik, that is what a wrestler gets when they over-step the boundaries and causes a problem. I am sure Management could have just issued him a reprimand but they decided to send him up against one of the most crazy and violent and possibly insane wrestlers on the roster.

Lunam: This will be, for sure, one crazy brutal match.

Simone: And it will be fun to watch Brayden lose to Anthrax.

Justin: Welcome to Climax Control and the opening match between Brayden Hilton and Anthrax. First to make their way to the ring, they come into this match at five feet ten inches and one hundred ninety pounds, they are from Detroit, Michigan, please give a great Colorado Springs welcome for BRAYDON HILTON!!!

FOREVER by DRAKE begins to blast over the speakers in the arena. Shortly after the music begins Braydon Hilton, along with his girlfriend, Carleigh Annis, come our from behind the backstage curtains and they walk out on the landing and stop. Brayden looks around the crowd and smiles a huge smile while receiving mostly loud boos from the fans in attendance. Without hesitation Brayden flips them off with a middle finger salute. When he drops the middle finger thing he and Carleigh run quickly down the rope to the ring where Brayden does not hesitate to leap up and dive under the bottom ropes where he quickly kips up to his feet while Carleigh takes a spot near the ring steps on the arena floor. Then we watch as Brayden holds his arms in the air then he executes a back flip while the crowd continues booing him. Taking offense to the rude behavior of the crowd Carleigh starts reprimanding the rude and insulting fans but all her rebuke of them accomplishes is that they get louder in their booing and rude comments. Tired of the fans insulting Brayden it is now Carleigh who flips off the crowd. Braydon continues to work her way around the ring to show himself off to all the fans before he settles back in one of the corners.

Simone: Gee, Erik, for a person who does not like arrogant wrestlers you seem to have taken a liking to Brayden Hilton.

Lunam: It has nothing to do with liking Brayden Hilton as it has more to do with my dislike for Anthrax. It goes with the saying of supporting the lesser of two evils.

Justin: Next to make his way to the ring, he comes into this match at six feet even and two hundred seven pounds, he is from The Asylum, please give a great Colorado Springs welcome for ANTHRAX!!!

The arena lights dim and DAY OF THE DEAD by HOLLYWOOD UNDEAD loudly hits the speakers. The fans turn their attention to the entrance area and they see a figure crawling along the floor like an insect. Anthrax, clad in an ankle-length leather jacket which is adored in chains, rises up into a crouched position, with his arms resting on his legs, as he looks from left to fight and all over the arena then he breaks into a creepy smile with showing his teeth in a huge grin then he stands up and walks with a creepy walk while glaring at the crowd. Anthrax slowly stands up and walks down the ramp to get to the wrestling ring and on his way down he deliberately gets extremely close to the barricades where the fans near the barricades more back and away from him. Anthrax arrives at ringside and he climbs the steps to the ring apron then he crawls beneath the bottom rope and enters the ring. Anthrax remains on his knees and his body convulses with silent giggles with his eyes clothed. Then Anthrax suddenly lunges into the nearest corner and massages the turnbuckles with his cheek while holding on to the ring ropes with both hands as he stares at the crowd.

Simone: Seriously Erik? You support a creepy wrestler like Anthrax?

Lunam: Considering the two wrestlers I would support in this match then, yes, I am supporting Anthrax in this match.

Referee Jasmine St. John walks to the center of the ring and she gives a stern look at both Braydon and Anthrax then she motions for the two of them to join her in the center of the ring. When Anthrax and Braydon stand next to her Referee St. John informs the two that this match has been scheduled by Sin City Wrestling General Manager Evelyn Hall due to both Braydon and Anthrax having a major altercation at a previous event. Referee St. John further states that although this is not classified as a Hardcore Rules match she is going to give a lot of leeway in the match. Referee St. John asks if either of them have questions concerning the match and both state they are okay with the match rules and stipulations. Referee St. John tells both wrestlers to return to their corners and to come out fighting when they hear the bell from the Timekeeper.

Lunam: This is going to be quite an interesting match.

Simone: More like brutal if you ask me.

Referee St. John motions to the Timekeeper to ring the bell to officially start this match.

DING DING DING!

This match is officially underway. We watch and notice that Anthrax has not yet fully returned to his corner while Brayden Hilton is still walking toward his corner. Without hesitation Anthrax runs across the ring and he lands an extremely hard kick to the lower back off Brayden which caused Hilton to drop to his knees and he holds his back as he attempts to get up off the mat.

Lunam: It appears that Brayden is already damaged good Belinda.

Simone: The match just officially got underway. This match is not over yet.

The look on the face of Anthrax is telling as he has a diabolical evil huge grin on his face and the look in his eyes shows he is going all out to destroy Hilton. Anthrax takes advantage of the kick he gave Brayden in the lower back. Anthrax then drags Hilton to his feet and then he rakes his eyes and now Brayden is temporarily blinded. Referee St. John steps in and asks Hilton if he wants to submit and he curses at the Referee and tells her to back the hell off of him as this match is not over yet. While Brayden is working to get his eyes focused again Anthrax takes advantage of the situation by grabbing Hilton by the head and biting his forehead. Then Anthrax continues to take the advantage by grabbing the neck of Brayden and he starts to choke Hilton.

Lunam: It appears this match will be over quickly.

Simone: Never think too far ahead in a match like this.

As Anthrax is choking Brayden he is demanding Referee St. John ask Hilton if he wants to submit in this match. Before Anthrax can get the answer from Referee St. John Brayden drops quickly to his knees and because Anthrax is focused on the Referee, Brayden lands numerous vicious punches to the groin and nutsack of Anthrax. We watch as the pain from the punches from Hilton to the nutsack of Anthrax causes Anthrax to drop to his knees and nearly pass out even though he continues to try to fend off the blows from Brayden. While Anthrax is still on his knees Hilton delivers a hard kick to the chest of Anthrax which causes Anthrax to fall backward onto the mat. Brayden is quick to dive on top of Anthrax and he goes for the pin and he has a firm grip on the legs of Anthrax to try to hold him in place. Referee St. John drops to the mat and finding the shoulders of Anthrax on the mat she starts her count for the pinfall.

ONE!

TWO!

TH…

Before Referee Jasmin St. John can bring her hand down for the third count for the win Anthrax finds the strength to forcibly push Brayden off of him and roll Hilton to the side. Anthrax slowly gets to his feet as does Brayden. The two look at each other realizing that they both managed to get the advantage over each other and that they are going to have to ramp up their attacks to get the win.

Simone: That was nearly a win for Brayden. Maybe Anthrax is not all he claims he is.

Lunam: The reality in this match, as both of us saw, is that neither wrestler is going to just give up and allow their opponent to get the the win. So far what I have seen in both wrestlers with abilities that give each an advantage over the other. This match is far from over.

Anthrax is upset and he decides to slide out of the ring and stand at ringside plotting out his next moves while Brayden remains in the ring taunting Anthrax. Just as Anthrax is about to go up the ring steps to return inside the ring he is attacked by Carleigh when she whacks him in the back with a chair and when Anthrax turns around Carleigh again whacks Anthrax but this time in the chest with the chair. There is a commotion at ringside as members of Metal Maniacs run to ringside and they grab Carleigh and they drag her away from the ringside area which allows Anthrax to climb up the ring steps to step through the ropes to get back inside the ring. Brayden is complaining to Referee Jasmine St. John about Anthrax obtaining interference against his girlfriend Carleigh. Jasmine St. John reminds Brayden that his girlfriend Carleigh initiated the attack on Anthrax and she has been moved away from the immediate ringside area. Referee St. John tells Brayden that since someone associated with him started the attack at ringside she is going to let both sides off for their attacks but if they do it again the wrestlers in the ring will be held accountable and disqualified for the interference after being told to stop.

Simone: That was a nice thing with Carleigh to help Brayden to keep Anthrax on the outside of the ring but unfortunately she was stopped by members of Metal Maniacs. Also due to the interference the Referee decided to be overly stern to her, and those who attacked her to remove her from ringside, and had them removed.

Lunam: So what you are admitting to is that it is okay to cheat and interfere in matches if your wrestler is on the losing end of the fight? That is not right and you know it.

Referee Jasmine St. John looks at Brayden and Anthrax and even she is amused by telling them to obey the rules even though there are many ways to interpret the rules in this type of match. Her comment on the rules causes Brayden to bust out laughing while Anthrax is howling loudly. Referee St. John rolls her eyes as she knows there is little she can to do stop these two from going all out on each other.

Simone: Maybe Referee Jasmine St. John should do stand-up comedy with hilarious comments like she just made to Brayden and Anthrax about obeying the rules in this wrestling match.

Lunam: For once I agree with you Belinda.

Brayden and Anthrax launch into punches and kicks on each other. Both are trying to land a knock-out blow, especially a hard knock-out blow to the groin of the other, but for now the blows are not at that level of effectiveness. Anthrax dives at Brayden but Hilton dodges the attempt and then he rolls out of the ring. Anthrax is upset that he missed that dive and he walks over to the ropes to see where Brayden is located. Anthrax does not readily see Brayden and if anyone who is near the ring knows where Brayen is they are not telling Anthrax about it. While Anthrax continues to look over the ring ropes to see if Brayden is going to pop up somewhere we see movement on the opposite side of the ring and it turns out to be Braden Hilton and he has what looks like a piece of a broom handle in one hand and a pair of pliers in his other hand.

Simone: This should prove to be interesting.

Lunam: Could be.

Brayden quickly enters the ring and he runs to the opposite side of the ring where Anthrax is located. He then taps taps Anthrax on the shoulder and when Anthrax turns around he is face to face with Brayden. Anthrax notices the broom handle and what appears to be a pair of pliers in his other hand of Brayden. By the time Anthrax realizes what Brayden is about to try Anthrax manages to grab the broom handle and get it away from Brayden. Anthrax also notices the pair of pliers and he kicks the punches Brayden enough times cause Brayden to drop the pliers. Brayden now realizes he is on the receiving end and he attempts to quickly move away from Anthrax but he doesn not get far before Anthrax charges him then he places the broom handle between the legs of Brayden and then he pulls up hard on the broom handle causing it to whack into the family jewels of Brayden. As Brayden is staggering from the crotch shot we watch as Anthrax places the pliers on the nut sack of Brayden and he clamps down with the plaiers. There is no way for Brayden to get out of this situation and he decides that when Referee St. John asks him if he wants to submit he tells her yes and Referee Jasmine St. John calls for the bell from the Timekeeper to end the match.

DING DING DING!

Referee St. John orders Anthrax to let go of Brayden Hilton and to our surprise Anthrax obeys the Referee and he releases his hold on Brayden and gets to his feet. Referee St. John then tells Anthrax to stand next to her and that he is not to attack Brayden again.

Justin: Ladies and gentlemen, the official decision in this match by Referee Jasmine St. John is the winner of this match, by submission, is ANTHRAX!!!

Referee St. John raises the hand of Anthrax for the win then the drops his hand. Anthrax then struts around the ring and after one trip around the ring he exits the ring and heads up the ramp to return to the backstage area. The camera shot returns to the ring where Brayden is up on his knees but when he tries to stand up the pain from the groin shot is still hurting so he is slow to get up but Carleigh assists him to get to his feet. The two then walk to the ring ropes where Brayden and Carleigh slide out of the ring and head up the ramp to the backstage area.

Lunam: Well, Belinda, I told you that Anthrax would come through and win this match.

Simone: I have to be honest that I did not expect the match to end like it did but I will give credit to Anthrax as he never gave up in this match.

The shot cuts to the backstage hallway, and the arena lights up with cheers as Helluva Bottom Carter, Miles Kasey, and their sixteen year old charge, Kevin Chapman step through the double doors and into frame on the video screen above the stage.

Carter is front and center, a to–go cup of coffee in one hand, the other casually hooked in the strap of his carry-on as he wheels it behind him. His gear hoodie hangs open, the familiar smirk tugging at one corner of his mouth as he glances sideways at Miles, one brow lifting as if sharing a joke only the three of them know. A little puff of steam curls up from the coffee as he takes a slow sip, utterly unbothered by the noise of road cases being pushed past and crew members hustling around them.

Miles walks on Carter’s right, rolling his own suitcase with an easy, practiced rhythm. He bumps his shoulder lightly against Carter’s, their steps syncing without either of them needing to look down. Miles tilts his head toward him, lips moving in a quick comment that draws a quiet, amused huff from Carter. Miles’ free hand flicks out in a small, animated gesture, clearly mid-story even without the audio, his eyes bright and relaxed.

On Carter’s left, Kevin keeps pace a half-step behind, his hands tucked deeply into his bomber jacket pockets. His gaze flicks between the two men, listening closely, the hint of a shy but genuine smile tugging at his features whenever Carter’s eyes soften his way or Miles throws him a conspiratorial look. Kevin nods along at something Miles adds, shoulders easing as if the arena, for all its chaos, feels like familiar ground with these two beside him.

The camera tracks backward as they walk, capturing the trio in a tight three-shot: Carter’s coffee hand lifting in a subtle cheers toward Kevin, Miles mouthing something reassuring with a playful raise of his eyebrows, Kevin answering with a small, determined nod. Behind them, banners, production crates, and a glowing EXIT sign blur by, the whole frame buzzing with the sense that tonight matters.

They turn a corner, wheels rolling over the concrete, Carter’s free hand briefly resting between Miles’ shoulders as he guides them toward the locker rooms. The shot lingers a moment longer on the three moving as a unit—calm, focused, and quietly connected—before the feed fades back to the live view of the roaring crowd.

The scene opens backstage at Climax Control where we see Harper Mason standing by for an interview with Pussy Willow alongside her manager Joshua Acquin.

Pussy Willow: Harper, it was confirmed last week that you will be the first Bombshell Internet Title Challenger of 2026 as you are set to challenge Victoria Lyons at Inception VIII! Thoughts.

Harper: I meant what I said when I interrupted Victoria two weeks ago: I was willing to watch on the sidelines, but I guess Evelynn and Christian felt that there was enough of a story there to make it official.

Joshua: Harper will be the new Internet Champion come Inception, that I can guarantee, and 2026 will be her best year yet.

Pussy Willow: Now in tonight’s Main Event Victoria is facing another former enemy of yours in Alexandra Callaway, thoughts on that match?

Harper: Alexandra’s a hell of a wrestler no doubt and she is challenging Alicia Lukas for the Roulette Title on the same night, but as far as I’m concerned? I’m going to be watching that match closely.

Pussy Willow: Meaning?

Harper: You’ll see.

Joshua: And Harper has a plan, trust me!

Josh and Harper walk off as the scene fades.

Justin steps into the six-sided ring in the Broadmoor World Arena, the lights tightening to a focused white circle that follows him to center.

Justin: The following contest is scheduled for one fall!

The mood shifts as the opening electronic stabs of Kingslayer by Bring Me The Horizon feat. BABYMETAL hit the sound system, lights in the arena pulsing in time with the frantic beat.

Justin: Introducing first, from Middleton, United Kingdom, weighing in at two hundred ten pounds! LJ Kasey!

The crowd roars as LJ Kasey bursts out onto the stage, framed in flashing strobes and fast-moving graphics on the entrance screen. He pauses at the top of the ramp, slapping a hand against his chest and throwing his arms wide to soak in the reaction. The camera tracks him as he starts down the aisle with a confident stride, reaching out to smack hands with fans lining the barricades. His eyes are locked on the six-sided ring ahead, jaw set, the energy of the music matching the determined rhythm of his steps.

Simone: Listen to this reaction for LJ Kasey. Colorado Springs is firmly in the corner of the next generation tonight.

Lunam: And he is walking into a fight that has been brewing ever since Bulldog Bill Barnhart started running his mouth about disrespect. LJ didn’t back down, and veterans like Barnhart have a long memory when they feel slighted.

LJ makes it about halfway down the ramp when the crowd’s roar twists into alarm as a larger figure explodes into frame from behind him. Bulldog Bill Barnhart lunges forward and clubs LJ across the back of the head and neck with a heavy forearm, the impact dropping Kasey to one knee on the steel ramp!

Simone: Oh come on! From behind! Bulldog just jumped LJ before the bell!ww

Lunam: And that’s the respect he’s been preaching about, right there. Barnhart said he’d teach this kid a lesson, and apparently class is starting early!

Bill does not give LJ even a heartbeat to recover! He rains down hammer-like clubbing blows to the back and shoulders, each strike landing with a sickening thud that echoes through the sound system! LJ tries to push up from the ramp, one hand reaching for the barricade, but Barnhart drives a knee straight into his ribs and sends him sprawling on his side! The fans along the aisle boo loudly, some reaching toward the rail as if to will Barnhart away from their favorite!

Justin has retreated to a corner of the ring, waving frantically for officials as the assault continues! The referee slides out under the bottom rope, sprinting down the ramp while shouting for Barnhart to back it off, but the veteran’s eyes are locked on his target. He grabs a handful of LJ’s hair and the back of his ring gear, hauls him to his feet, and jerks him forward only to whip him viciously into the steel barricade! LJ’s spine collides with the unforgiving metal, the barricade rattling and forcing the front row to stagger back from the shock!

Simone: This is uncalled for! Bill Barnhart demanded respect, but this is nothing but a cheap, cowardly ambush!

Lunam: In his mind, this is how you carve your place and remind the so-called new blood where they stand! He thinks LJ looked past him and is making sure the kid remembers who the Bulldog is!

LJ staggers forward off the barricade, clutching at his back, but Barnhart is already moving. The Bulldog charges and plows into him with a brutal clothesline that nearly flips Kasey inside out on the thin padding at ringside! The referee moves in, pushing at Bill’s chest and shouting, but Barnhart barks back, shoving past the official like he is swatting a fly!

Simone: Somebody get more security out here! This man doesn’t care about the match, he just wants to hurt LJ Kasey!

Lunam: And the worst part is, Bill will stand by every second of this! In his mind, this is justified punishment for what he views as disrespect!

The camera tracks tightly as Bulldog grabs LJ by the wrist and yanks him toward the steel steps. With a guttural growl, Barnhart whips him, and LJ’s momentum carries him shoulder-first into the corner of the steps, the steel ringing as he collides and spills awkwardly to the floor. The steps shift slightly from the impact, the top half shuddering with a dull clang as LJ clutches at his shoulder and rolls onto his back, his face twisted in pain!

Simone: Those steel steps did not move much, and LJ just took the worst of that collision. This is disgusting!

Lunam: And Bill is loving every second of this! He wanted to make this personal. He didn’t want to win a wrestling match, he wanted to make a statement at LJ’s expense!

More officials arrive from the back, along with security personnel who spread out to form a loose half circle around Barnhart. They shout warnings, hands outstretched to keep distance, but Bill is still not done. He shoulders past two of them and bends down, hauling a deadweight LJ up by the waistband and hair. Kasey is clearly dazed, his legs barely supporting him as Barnhart drags him closer to the open floor between the ramp and the ringside area.

Simone: No, no, no, get in there and stop this. Ref, security, anyone, stop this right now.

Lunam: The match hasn’t even officially started. There’s been no bell. This is all premeditated, a straight-up assault under the guise of settling a grudge.

Barnhart hooks LJ’s head between his thighs, clamping down tight. He wraps his arms around Kasey’s waist, drawing him up off the floor with deliberate, measured strength. The crowd’s noise spikes, a mix of horrified screams and furious boos as they realize what is coming. LJ hangs upside down for a beat, his fingers weakly clutching at Barnhart’s legs, eyes glazed.

Simone: Don’t do it, Bill. Not on the floor. Not like this!

With no hesitation, Bulldog Bill Barnhart drops to his knees, driving LJ’s head and neck straight down into the thinly padded concrete with a devastating piledriver! LJ’s body compresses and then slumps, folding awkwardly before collapsing limp on the floor. The entire ringside area erupts in a chorus of shocked cries, several fans along the barricade covering their mouths or turning away as LJ lies motionless, one arm twitching once before going completely still!

Lunam: Oh my God. He just spiked LJ on the floor. That could have broken his neck!

Simone: This has gone far beyond any lesson, beyond any message. This is a career-threatening attack. He wanted to end this kid right here in Colorado Springs!

The referee immediately dives in, waving his arms wildly toward the timekeeper, shouting for help. Security finally swarms Barnhart in force, three men grabbing his arms and shoulders while another steps between him and LJ’s prone body. Bill roars in protest, struggling against them, his face twisted with rage and satisfaction as he tries to reach over their shoulders to get one last shot in. The timekeeper slaps the ring bell repeatedly, a frantic series of clangs as Justin, still in the ring, looks stunned!

Justin: Ladies and gentlemen, due to the actions of Bulldog Bill Barnhart, this match has been ruled a no contest!

The crowd hammers the air with boos, some chanting at Barnhart as security forces him back up the ramp. Bill twists his body to glare down at LJ, barking insults that are lost under the wave of noise. He jerks against the guards, trying to throw his arms up as if celebrating, but they drag him inexorably toward the curtain, a dangerous smirk never leaving his face!

Simone: This was supposed to be about the future of SCW standing up and proving himself against a veteran, and instead it turned into a vicious ambush!

Lunam: Bulldog has been ranting for weeks that kids like LJ Kasey don’t respect what men like him built, and tonight he decided to make an example out of him. He may have just crossed a line he cannot come back from!

At ringside, the camera shifts focus to the floor beside the ramp where LJ still lies, barely moving. By now, Miles Kasey, Helluva Bottom Carter and Alexandra Calaway have arrived and are also hovering around LJ! Officials kneel around him, one cradling his head carefully, another checking his neck and shoulders with cautious hands. Referees wave frantically toward the stage, making the universal X sign, as the crowd begins a low chant of LJ’s name in an attempt to will him back to consciousness.

Simone: Medical personnel are on their way. Folks, we could be looking at a serious neck or head injury after that piledriver on the concrete. This is not how anyone wanted to see this night go for LJ Kasey.

Lunam: You can see the look on the fans’ faces. Horror, anger, fear. This is what happens when ego and resentment over so-called disrespect go unchecked. Barnhart got what he wanted, but LJ may pay the price for a long time.

Paramedics hurry down the ramp with a stretcher and a medical bag, the crowd parting with a mixture of urgency and concern. Security finally disappears with Barnhart through the curtain at the top of the stage, his presence still felt in the dark mood he's left behind. The camera follows the EMTs as they kneel down beside LJ, immediately fitting a neck brace around his throat and speaking to him, trying to get any response. LJ’s eyes flutter, his fingers barely moving as they carefully log-roll him onto a backboard.

Simone: They’re stabilizing his neck, getting him onto the backboard. This is as serious as it gets, and it’s all because Bulldog Bill Barnhart could not accept that the business moves forward and that respect goes both ways.

Lunam: LJ came out here ready to compete, ready to fight in the ring, and Bill made sure it never got that far. Tonight will not be remembered for a classic between generations. It will be remembered for an ambush and a piledriver that may haunt everyone who saw it.

The camera lingers on LJ being gently strapped to the board, his body secured before the paramedics lift him onto the stretcher. The crowd, almost instinctively, begins to applaud, a somber show of support as the stretcher is wheeled carefully up the ramp, followed by Miles, Carter and Alexandra. The shot widens to show the concerned faces in the front rows, then cuts back to a close-up of LJ’s face behind the neck brace, eyes half-open, before panning briefly up the aisle where Bill Barnhart had been dragged moments ago.

HARDCORE MATCH
Bella Madison vs “Dreamkiller” Kayla Richards

The camera shot shifts from the previous camera shot to a shot of Bea Barnhart who is exiting her dressing room and she walks into the hallway so she can make her way to the staging area to be ready for her match against Bella Madison and Frankie Holliday and the match is a Triple Threat Hardcore Match. Bea glances up and sees the camera person has their camera focused on her so Bea offers some pre-match comments.

Bea: Before I comment on my upcoming Triple Threat Hardcore Rules match against Bella Madison and Frankie Holliday I wish to comment on what Bill did to L J Kasey as Bill had a match against L J Kasey but since Kasey was acting like a jerk and being sarcastic Bill slam-dunked him and beat him down. Yeah, okay, their match was cancelled after that incident but Management told Bill and L J that they will be facing each other in a Grudge Match soon. Although Bill’s match did not take place in the normal meaning of a wrestling match it provided a way for Bill to totally destroy L J Kasey in an upcoming match. But enough about Bill and L J Kasey as I am getting ready to crush, dismantle, and destroy, Bella Madison and Frankie Holliday in a Hardcore match shortly.

Bea walks down the hallway until she comes to a three-way intersection where she stops and the backstage attendant informs Bea which hallway to take to get to the Staging Area so she will be ready for her entrance for her match.

Bea: This match is fairly balanced except for the fact that I am more talented than Bella and Frankie so of course I will win our match. We are about the same height and weight but I am more controlled and efficient than those two. When the bell rings I want everyone to keep their eyes on me as I am the Ace in this card game.

Bea arrives at the Staging Area and she waves off the camera person and the camera person understands and cuts their camera feed.

Simone: Welcome back to Climax Control and our next contest will see three former champions go at it in a Hardcore Rules Match! Former World Bombshell Champion Frankie Holiday, former Bombshell Internet Champion Bella Madison and former Mixed Tag Team Champion Bea Barnhart compete in a match that could have huge implications for Inception VIII in January!

Lunam: Frankie last competed at the first Climax Control of the cycle where she brutally defeated Candy while Bella last won the Triple Threat Match between herself, Cassie Wolfe and Bea at High Stakes! As for Bea? She last competed at the start of the cycle is a losing effort to Alexandra Callaway!

Simone: This should be a hell of a match! Let’s take it to Justin!

Justin: The following contest is a Triple Threat Hardcore Rules Match, scheduled for one fall!

The opening piano strokes of “Skeletons” by Wednesday 13 harbor the arrival of Frankie Holliday. As the guitar riffs begin to ramp up the song, Frankie parts the curtain. A sinister and knowing grin on her face as she doesn’t acknowledge the response in any way, walking down to the ring.

Justin: Introducing first, from Milwaukee, Wisconsin, she is a former World Bombshell Champion FRANKIE HOLIDAY!

Once she hits the ringside area, she simply rolls under the bottom rope and sits in the corner, still with the grin across her lips. She even chuckles to herself as she readies herself for the match.

Simone: It’s officially been a month since Frankie lost the title to Crystal and it still seems to be a sore point for her!

Lunam: At least this time she has more than one Bombshell to worry about!

Justin: And her opponents!

WE’RE NOT GONNA TAKE IT by Twisted Sister hits the speakers and we see Bea Barnhart exit from the backstage area dancing to her entrance music. Her wrestling attire consists of black leather pants, a white pullover type of tee-shirt, and a black leather jacket. As the music continues Bea makes her way down to the ring where she climbs the ring steps then ducks through the ropes into the ring. She plays the crowd for a bit before running across the ring leaping up into a corner then executing a backflip landing on her feet. Bea then settles into a corner to wait for her match to start.

Justin: First, from Lawrenceville, Georgia, BEA BARNHART!

Simone: At least Frankie let Justin finish his intro this time!

Lunam: Probably because Bea isn’t her only opponent!

The arena lights crash into total black.

A sharp crackle of red-and-silver static flickers across the video screen.

“I’ll bite my tongue ‘til it bleeds…”
Addie Nicole’s voice cuts through the darkness — raw, haunting.

A single red spotlight slashes across the stage.

Fog rolls in across the ramp.

Bella Madison steps into the light.

Her hood is up. Her head down. Arms at her sides. Her silhouette is sharp — black matte leather gear with crimson trim and silver-glitched detailing. No theatrics. Just presence.

On the screen behind her, her name glitches to life:

BELLA MADISON
BITE. YOUR. TONGUE.

Justin: Hailing from Manhattan, New York, representing Wolfslair, weighing in at 125 pounds, this is BELLA MADISON!

Metallic tranquillity… the pain gets buried beneath…” She begins her walk down the ramp. Controlled. Heavy with purpose. Every step deliberate —

this isn’t performance. It’s confrontation.

She stops halfway down, head tilting up just slightly.

The beat drops. The lights shift — strobe pulses echoing like warning shots.

“I could destroy you with one line…”

At ringside, Bella goes to do her entrance ritual when Frankie blindsides Bea with a couple of clubbing blows before throwing Bea at Bella through the ropes in a somewhat involuntary suicide dive! Jacob calls for the bell while Frankie leaves the ring!

DING DING DING!

Simone: And now we know why Frankie waited!

Lunam: Gotta love her creativity, unless your Bea or Bella!

Once the bell sounds there’s nothing that Jacob can really do because, well, it’s No DQ and Frankie’s already throwing an assortment of weapons into the ring leaving both Jacob and Justin with little time to get the hell out of the way, culminating when Frankie pulls out and slides in a whole table! However Frankie didn’t exactly stop by choice because Bea and Bella have recovered by this point and blindside the former World Bombshell Champion with forearms before hitting a double Suplex onto the entrance ramp.

Simone: Frankie was so preoccupied with turning that ring into a war zone that it gave Bea and Bella a chance to recover!

Lunam: And she’ll feel that Double Suplex for weeks, count on it!

While Frankie regains her bearings the alliance between Bea and Bella proves to be a short lived one as the two bombshells are quickly trading blows around the ringside area! Bea manages to get the upper hand via an eye at one point before she reaches into the ring and grabs a kendo stick that conveniently landed within arms reach of Bea, by the time Bella recovers from the eye rake? She gets a facefull of Kendo Stick!

Lunam: And Bella has taken a long, hard bit of wood to the face! WAIT, NO!

Simone: KEEP IT CLEAN ERICK! Anyway Bea had better watch out for Frankie!

Bea starts twirling around the kendo stick before she raises it above her head for another strike only for Frankie to yank it out of her hands from behind! Bea urns around but gets a Kendo Stick to the stomach from Frankie who then wraps it around Bea’s throat and hits a White Russian Leg Sweep into the Barricade! Confident that Bea is down for the moment Frankie tosses the stick aside and picks up Bella before throwing her back into the ring and going for the first pin of the match!

ONE!

TWO!

And Bella kicks out!

Simone: Well, it took most of the match but the action has finally entered the ring!

Lunam: Pretty much because this isn’t a Falls Count Anywhere Match and Bea, Bella and Frankie know it!

Frankie shoots Jacob a dirty glare before she eyes a garbage can and goes to pick it up! However Bella has now recovered and waits for Frankie stand up before she hits the former World Bombshell Champion with a Poisonrana, forcing her to let go of the can in the process! Bea is now entering the ring with a chair in hand as Bella goes for her first pin of the match!

ONE!

TWO!

And Bea breaks it by slamming the chair across the Bella’s stomach! Bea then goes for a pin on Bella!

ONE!

TWO!

And Bella kicks out!

Simone: Now all three Bombshells have one pin attempt apiece!

Lunam: The one that matters is the deciding pin though!

Bea gets back to her feet and starts measuring Bella up for a follow up move, then Bea’s world goes dark because Frankie puts the garbage can over her head from behind and, for lack of better word, starts hitting Bea like a pinata with the very steal chair that she introduced! Bea eventually drops but rolls out of the ring (still wearing the garbage can) before Frankie can follow that up with a pin! Not that it matters because Bella comes up behind Frankie with a Victory Roll!

ONE!

TWO!

And Frankie kicks out! On the outside a bloody Bea has just removed the trash can from her head and Bella sets up the chair before using it as a springboard for a Suicide Dive!

Simone: You know, I’m suddenly glad that Frankie has never gone after the Roulette Title, imagine the carnage she’d inflict!

Lunam: I’d rather not!

Bea and Bella get back to their feet on the outside and start brawling all over again, meanwhile in the ring Frankie starts acting like she’s going to hit her own dive on Bella and Bea, hyping up the crowd before running……..and stopping mid run, flipping off the camera, and breaking up the brawl by yeeting another garbage can over the top rope and watching it hit her two oppoents! Frankie remains in the ring and starts setting up the table!

Simone: Well, that table was bound to come into play at some point!

Lunam: Wait, what is she reaching for?

FRANKIE PRODUCES A BOTTLE OF LIGHTER LIQUID AND POORS IT ON THE TABLE BEFORE SETTING IT ALIGHT!

Simone: MA’AM, THIS IS FREE TV! CAN YOU NOT SET THINGS ON FIRE!

Lunam: I’ll take “things you can only hear in wrestling” for $500! Oh look, the daily double!

Frankie leaves the ring and retrieves Bea before throwing her back in! Frankie then drags Bea to the corner closest to the table and signals for the Dahmer Driver!

Simone: Oh you’ve got to be kidding me?! Frankie’s going to hit the Dahmer Driver off the top rope again, THIS TIME THROUGH A FLAMING TABLE?!

Lunam: I CAN’T WATCH!

Frankie goes to set up the top rope Northern Lights Bomb but Bea fights out of it and hits Frankie with a headbutt to the face BEFORE POWERBOMBING FRANKIE THROUGH THE FLAMING TABLE!

Simone: WELL, THAT BACKFIRED ON FRANKIE!

Lunam: LITERALLY!

Crowd: HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!

However before Bea can go for a pin? She gets a garbage can lid to the face from Bella who then proceeds to drop the lid and hit Bea with a Snapmare Driver onto it!

Simone: AND THE NEURO MUTILATION BY BELLA ON BEA!

Lunam: BEA AND FRANKIE ARE OUT! STICK A FORK IN THEM, THEY’RE DONE!

Bella goes for the pin!

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!!!

DING DING DING!

Justin: HERE’S YOUR WINNER, BELLA MADISON!

Simone: BELLA WITH A HUGE WIN HEADING INTO INCEPTION!

Lunam: WHAT A MATCH!

Bella celebrates her win while Jacob checks on Bea and Frankie!

The scene cuts abruptly from the somber view of LJ Kasey being wheeled up the ramp to the quiet tension of the Broadmoor World Arena’s backstage offices. The camera settles on the frosted glass door bearing the nameplate “General Manager – Evelyn Hall.” Raised voices are faintly heard from within before the door swings open and the camera steps inside.

Evelyn Hall sits behind her sleek wooden desk, posture straight, hands folded with deliberate composure atop a neat stack of paperwork. Her expression is calm, but the tightness around her eyes betrays the strain. Standing opposite her is “Bulldog” Bill Barnhart in his ring gear, arms folded across his broad chest, a defiant tilt to his chin. At his side, Bea Barnhart hovers protectively, one hand resting lightly on her husband’s arm, eyes narrowed in suspicion at the whole process.

Evelyn: Let’s try this again, Bill. Slowly. I want to hear, from you, exactly what that was out there.

Bill: What that was, is a veteran taking care of business. That kid’s been runnin’ his mouth, looking past me like I’m some stepping stone. I warned him. Everyone heard me warn him. He didn’t listen. So I made sure he understood. That’s all there is to it.

Evelyn’s fingers tighten almost imperceptibly atop the desk, knuckles paling for an instant before she relaxes her hands again. Her voice stays even, but there is an unmistakable edge beneath the smooth tone.

Evelyn: “All there is to it” is that you attacked a contracted SCW wrestler before the bell, on the ramp, on the floor, and then dropped him on his head with a piledriver on the concrete. He left that arena area on a stretcher with a neck brace. That is considerably more than “taking care of business.”

Bea: Evelyn, with all due respect, LJ had this coming. These kids come in acting like they own the place and...

Bea takes a step forward, emboldened, but Evelyn lifts one hand off the desk, palm outward. She doesn’t raise her voice. She doesn’t even look away from Bill. The gesture alone is enough to stop Bea mid-sentence.

Evelyn: Mrs. Barnhart… I did not ask you for an explanation.

Bea’s mouth shuts with an audible click, bristling, but she reins herself in, folding her arms tightly and glaring off to the side. Bill’s lips curl into a faint smirk for a heartbeat, as if he takes some twisted pleasure in the standoff, but it fades when Evelyn leans forward just slightly, her gaze locking squarely onto his.

Evelyn: I asked you, Bill.

Bill: I gave you your explanation. This ain’t a charity. This is wrestling. Guys like me built this place, and kids like LJ Kasey stroll in, look at us like we’re in their way, like they’re doing us a favor just by sharing a ring. I’m tired of it. He disrespected me, he disrespected what I’ve done in this business, and I’m not apologizing because he found out the hard way.

Evelyn exhales slowly through her nose, the faintest tremor in that breath. She straightens a legal pad on her desk that doesn’t need straightening, a small, precise movement to anchor herself. When she speaks again, her voice is still controlled… but colder.

Evelyn: You are absolutely right about one thing, Bill. This is wrestling. It’s physical, it’s dangerous, and it can be cruel. I understand that better than most. But there is a line, and tonight you didn’t just walk up to it. You leapt over it and tried to bury it in concrete with LJ’s head.

Bea: He was sending a message. That’s what the fans pay to see...

Evelyn’s eyes flick to Bea, sharp as a blade. The hand rises again, this time with a small, warning curl of her fingers.

Evelyn: Bea. I will not ask you again. This conversation is between your husband and management.

Bea bites back whatever she was going to say next, jaw clenched. Bill shifts his weight, irritation flashing across his features, but Evelyn’s focus never wavers.

Evelyn: Right now, LJ Kasey is being evaluated by medical staff. We don’t yet know the full extent of the damage you may have caused. So here is what you are going to do, Bill. You are going to hope. You are going to hope very, very hard that when those tests come back, they do not say words like “fracture” or “spinal injury.” Because if they do, then tonight goes from an in-house disciplinary matter… to something far more serious.

A flicker of unease passes behind Bea’s eyes at the word “fracture.” Bill’s jaw tightens, but he covers it with a scoff, shrugging one shoulder.

Bill: I’ve taken worse. Everyone out there’s taken worse. He wants to play with the big boys, he better be able to take a hit. That’s how we did it long before he showed up.

Evelyn: This is not about what you’ve taken. This is about what you did. And about the fact that you decided you were judge, jury, and executioner for an entire generation you think doesn’t “respect” you enough.

Evelyn’s hand presses flat to the desk again, the veneer of composure thinning just a fraction as a hint of steel slides into her tone.

Evelyn: So hear me clearly, because I am only going to say this once: If LJ Kasey’s injuries are serious, you will answer for it. Not in a ring, not in a promo, but in ways you are not going to enjoy.

There’s a heavy silence in the room. The faint hum of the air conditioning and the distant echo of the live crowd through the walls are the only sounds for a beat. Bill stares back at her, nostrils flaring, but for the first time since entering the office, he doesn’t have an immediate comeback.

Evelyn: Now… as it stands, before tonight, I had intended for you to be off next week. A little time away from the ring, recharge, let some other stories unfold. That was the plan.

She reaches for a folder at her elbow, flips it open, then closes it again without really looking down, using the motion to punctuate her next words.

Evelyn: But you changed the plan, Bill. So here is the new one. Next week, in Boulder, Colorado… you will be there. You will be dressed to compete. No days off. No time to sit at home and gloat over what you did tonight.

Bill: Good. Put me in the ring with whoever you want. I’ll...

Evelyn: I’m not finished.

The two simple words cut him off more effectively than a shout, Evelyn’s voice tightening just enough to make Bea glance at her warily.

Evelyn: If And I want you to pay attention to that word, if, LJ Kasey is cleared by medical in time… then at Inception VIII, in Las Vegas… it will be LJ Kasey versus Bulldog Bill Barnhart. No sneak attacks. No cheap ambush on the ramp. One-on-one, under the lights, where the whole world can see whether your “lesson” holds up when the playing field is level.

Bill’s eyes narrow. For a moment, the idea of finishing what he started on a grander stage seems to appeal to him; there’s a glint of vicious anticipation. Then the subtext sinks in. The implication that if LJ isn’t cleared, if this escalates beyond a storyline, and the glint dulls just slightly.

Bill: You’re actin’ like I’m the bad guy here for defendin’ everything I’ve done in this business. That kid...

Evelyn: What I am doing, Mr. Barnhart, is reminding you that you are under my jurisdiction. The days of veterans policing the locker room however they see fit are over. I decide what happens next, not you. You will be in Boulder. You will be ready. And then, depending on what the doctors say, you may find yourself standing across the ring from the young man you tried to take out tonight. Until then, this discussion is over.

Bill opens his mouth again, stubborn pride refusing to fully yield, but Evelyn has already turned slightly in her chair, reaching for another file. The message is crystal clear. She doesn’t raise her voice, doesn’t need to. Her next words are calm, clipped, and final.

Evelyn: We’re finished here. You’re excused from my office.

For a heartbeat, the Bulldog looks ready to push his luck. Then Bea tugs gently at his arm, murmuring under her breath.

Bea: Come on, Bill. Let’s go.

He snorts, casting one last glare at the General Manager, but turns toward the door with a grudging stomp of his boots. Bea follows close, shooting a final, tight-lipped look back at Evelyn before pulling the door open. The camera tracks them as they step out into the hallway, Bill muttering under his breath about “disrespect” and “kids these days” as they disappear down the corridor.

The shot lingers for a moment on the closed office door, the gold lettering of Evelyn Hall’s nameplate gleaming under the fluorescent lights, before cutting back to the live arena feed.

ROULETTE CHAMPIONSHIP
Vincent Lyons Jr © vs Logan Hunter

Justin: This match is scheduled for one fall and is a non title match. Introducing first…residing in Los Angeles, California… Seleana Zdunich…

The arena fades to black as the screen lights up and we are treated to an old school movie countdown image.

Suddenly the countdown is stopped by claws slashing through the image and a cat’s roar sounds through the arena. Janet Jackson’s “Black Cat” blasts through the speakers and Seleana Zdunich walks through the entranceway and makes her way to the ring, slapping hands along the way as the crowd cheers her on.

Justin: and her opponent… hailing from Atlanta, Georgia. Alicia Lukas.

"I still wear this crown" By Kittie hits as Alicia steps out with a black hoodie over her upper half with the hood up over her long blond hair. She stands on the stage and reaches up flipping the hood back and looking down at the ring before pointing her finger guns with a smirk. She makes her way down to the ring and runs up the steps before climbing the ropes on the outside, she flips the hood back before putting her arms out , she smiles at the crowd before leaping into the ring from the outside and taking off the hoodie

Alicia throws her hoodie to ring side, as the ref moves in and checks both for weapons before indicating for the bell to be rung…

DING DING DING!

Zdunich and Lukas stand in their respective corners and take a moment to eye each other, as Zdunich warms up a little bit on her feet, while Lukas is crouched in the corner. Lukas rises to her feet, as they both charge out of the corner as Zdunich looks for a boot on Lukas, but Lukas dodges it and Zdunich quickly turns and goes for a wild swing at Lukas but Lukas ducks it before popping back up and fire in a forearm shot. Zdunich stumbles backwards and up against ropes as Lukas then moves in and grabs Zdunich hand and then pulls her away and Irish whips her across the ring and Zdunich bounces off the ropes and as she comes back she delivers a boot and catch Lukas and sends her down to the mat.

Simone: Zdunich and Lukas take their time before both rushing in, as Zdunich tries to surprise Lukas with a boot, but Lukas dodges that and then dodges the wild swing before popping up and fires in forearm shot.

Lunam: Good awareness there. Zdunich stumbles back towards the ropes and Lukas grabs Zdunich and whips her across the ring and Zdunich bounces off the ropes and this time she catches Lukas with the boot and drops Lukas.

Lukas lays on the mat rocked, as Zdunich rolls Lukas onto her back before mounting her and grabs a handful of hair and begins to fire in some rapid punches as Lukas tries to cover up the best she can before grabbing Zdunich and counters and rolls her onto her back, where she then returns the rapid punches onto Zdunich, who doesn’t cover, but soaks up some of the blows before grabbing Lukas and rolls her into her back with a similar counter and she fires in some punches, as Lukas tries to cover up as she kicks her legs about, as Zdunich continues to punch her as she even makes her way to her feet, where she grabs Lukas and pulls her up to her feet and fires in an forearm shot, which rocks Lukas and she stumbles a little before turning back to Zdunich and fires in a forearm shot to the chest.

Lunam: Zdunich rolls Lukas onto her back and fires in some rapid-fire punch, before Lukas counters and replies with her own before Zdunich then counters and fires in some more before climbing to her feet and pulls Lukas up and fires in a forearm shot, which Lukas stumbles back before Lukas quickly gathers herself and fires one back on response.

Zdunich doesn’t move and fires in a chop to Lukas’ chest, Lukas grimaces before having to brace as Zdunich fires in some more chops to Lukas’ chest, who takes a step backwards with each shop before coming to a rest on the ropes and Zdunich continues before backing away before the referee could intervene. Zdunich moves away, as Lukas holds her chest before dropping down to the mat and then she rolls herself from the ring. Outside Lukas holds her chest, as she takes a moment to recover, as Zdunich moves to the ropes and sits on the middle rope and sits on and invited Lukas back in.

Simone: Zdunich doesn’t flinch and she returns the favour with a chop to the chest. Lukas reels from it and Zdunich fires in more chops until Lukas ends up on the ropes. Zdunich moves away and Lukas bails from the ring.

Lunam: Good plan there from Lukas, leave the ring. Have a think and take some time to recover.

Lukas stays outside the ring, as she moves partly around the ring, as Zdunich moves away from the ropes herself and she adjusts herself, as the ref soon begins to count…

ONE!

TWO!

Lukas moves forward, as she keeps an eye on Zdunich and she climbs onto the apron and then climbs into the ropes, as she then attempts to rushes in, but Zdunich gets a boot up and into Lukas’ stomach and stops her and she doubles over, as Zdunich then grabs Lukas’ hand and Irish whips her across the ring, which Lukas then bounces off the ropes and as she comes back at Zdunich, Zdunich goes for a wild swing, which Lukas ducks and goes past Zdunich and bounces off the ropes and then leaps up and hits a tilt-a-whirl headscissors and sends Zdunich into the ropes.

Simone: The ref gets to two as Lukas then climbs back into the ring, as Zdunich is the slower of the two off the mark, as Lukas charges in but Zdunich gets a boot up and catches Lukas. Lukas doubles over and Zdunich sends Lukas across the ring and she bounces off the ropes, as Zdunich goes for a wild swing and but Lukas ducks and bounces off the ropes once more and leaps up and hits a tilt-a-whirl headscissors and sends Zdunich into the ropes.

Zdunich leans against the middle rope on a single knee, as Lukas makes her way to her feet and turns and charges and catches Zdunich with a boot to the side of her head and Zdunich stays against the ropes but on the bottom rope, as Lukas takes a few steps backwards and then charges into and drives both knees into Zdunich back before staying in place and begins to choke Zdunich against the ropes.

Lunam: Lukas moves in and catches Zdunich with a boot to the side of the head, but Lukas isn’t done and she drives both knees into Zdunich back and the proceeds to choke her.

The ref moves in and gets to three and Lukas hops off and backs away, as Zdunich stays against the ropes as she pushes herself off, as Lukas moves back in and grabs Zdunich and pulls her up and pushes her against the ropes, where she fires in some clubs to the back of her neck as then drags her backwards away from the ropes and she grabs her around the waist and hits a German suplex.

Simone: Lukas hops off Zdunich, as she grabs her and delivers some clubbing blows before dragging her away from the ropes and hits a German suplex.

Lukas doesn’t let go and pulls Zdunich back up again and hits another German suplex before popping her hips one more time and hits another German suplex, which she releases and then she turns and goes for a pin…

Lunam: Lukas showing why she is a dominate champion in this non title match up, as she hits a further two German Suplexes.

ONE!

TWO!

THR… kickout!

Zdunich kicks out, as Lukas shakes her head and she tries again…

ONE!

TWO!

Kickout!

Zdunich kicks out again, as Lukas slaps the mat and then climbs to her feet, where she grabs Zdunich and drags her up and Irish whips Zdunich into the corner and Lukas follows close behind and flings her body against Zdunich. Lukas turns and comes face to face with Zdunich and Zdunich gives Lukas a shove backwards before firing in a En Kristen Rättighet (A Woman's Right punch).

Simone: Zdunich kicks out again, as Lukas gets a little bit frustrated, but she grabs Zdunich and pulls her up, where then sends her into the corner. She moves and catches Zdunich with a sort of splash.

Lunam: Zdunich doesn’t drop and Lukas comes to face to face and Zdunich surprises Lukas with the En Kristen Rättighet. Did I say that correctly?

Simone: Eh… you will get that there.

Lukas stumbles backwards holding her face and Zdunich steps forward and spins Lukas around, where she grabs her arm and hits an arm drag, as Lukas kicks moves back to her feet and charges and Zdunich hits another arm drag and again Lukas gets to her feet and this time Zdunich hits a standing dropkick and drops Lukas and Zdunich quickly leaps onto Lukas and covers her…

Lunam: Anyway… Lukas is rocked and Zdunich moves in and hits a arm drag. Lukas gets back to her feet and hits another one before Zdunich finishes it with a standing dropkick and goes for a pin.

ONE!

TWO!

TH…kickout!

Lukas kicks out, as Zdunich looks to the referee before quickly making her way back to her feet, where she grabs Lukas’ legs and she tries to roll her over onto her stomach as she seeks for the Shot of Z but Lukas kicks out and catches Zdunich on the hands and Zdunich releases and Lukas quickly crawls forward and grabs the ropes to avoid a chance from Zdunich.

Simone: Lukas kicks out again, as Zdunich questions the ref before she makes her way to her feet and she looks to make Lukas tap out, but Lukas begins to fight back.

Lukas turns to face Zdunich and Zdunich tries to move in, but Lukas demands her to keep back, and the ref forces her to do. Zdunich shakes her head, as Lukas slowly makes her way to her feet and Zdunich brushes past the ref and charges at Lukas, Lukas hits a spinning heel kick to Zdunich. Zdunich stops and holds her stomach, and Lukas grabs Zdunich by hair and drives a knee up into Zdunich’s face and Zdunich stumbles backwards and falls onto her butt.

Lunam: Zdunich has to release, as Lukas moves to the ropes and forces Zdunich to keep back. But Zdunich only listens briefly before moving back in but Lukas is ready for her and catches her with a kick and follows up with a knee to the face.

Lukas skips passed Zdunich and turns and hits a snapmare and penalty kick to the back, Zdunich arches her back in pain, as Lukas turns and fires in some stiff kicks to Zdunich back. Lukas stops and grabs Zdunich by the hair and drags her up and hits a European uppercut, which rocks Zdunich, but Lukas doesn’t allow Zdunich to stumble back too far and Lukas grabs Zdunich hands and delivers a short-arm clothesline.

Simone: Zdunich is in trouble here, as Lukas punishes Zdunich.

Lukas doesn’t release and pulls Zdunich close and then sets up and hits the The Georgia Drop (The GTS).

Lunam: Georgia drop.

She goes for a pin…

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

Simone: Lukas wins.

DING DING DING!

Justin: winner of this match via pinfall… Alicia Lukas.

Lukas’ music hits over the p.a, as she crawls off Zdunich and makes her way to her feet and the ref raises her arm in victory.

WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP
Helluva Bottom Carter © vs Alexander Raven

The scene opens backstage at Climax Control where we see Ms. Rocky Mountains waiting outside a closed door.

Ms. Rocky Mountains: Err, Logan?

Logan: (off camera) I AM NOT COMING OUT!

Ms. Rocky Mountains: I need to talk to you about your match with Liam!

Brooke: (off screen) WE DON’T CARE! THIS SHIT IS HUMILIATING!

At that point Marissa walks up with her arms crossed, the beautiful brunette has her hair in a ponytail.

Marissa: They told me that they won’t come out of that room until it’s time for Logan’s match!

Ms. Rocky Mountains: Which is five minutes away!

Logan: (off screen) I WILL LEAVE THIS ROOM UNDER TIGHT SECURITY!

Marissa: You wouldn’t have to do this is Brooke will just apologize to Pussy!

Brooke: (off screen) PUH-LEASE! If she didn’t want to get shoved she should’ve done her job!

Rocky facepalms.

Ms. Rocky Mountains: Can I at least get a soundbyte ahead of the match?

Logan: (off screen) WOE TO THE VANQUISHED, FOR THE LIVES OF A FAILURE OF A FUTURE STAR WILL NOT BE MOURNED! AND WOE BE TO THE SOUL OF LIAM DAVIES AS HE EMBRACES OBLIVION!

Ms. Rocky Mountains: How do you put up with them?

Marissa: Barely contained insanity.

Rocky shakes her head before she walks off as the scene fades.

The camera cuts backstage to the medical area in the Broadmoor World Arena. The lighting is harsh, clinical, contrasting sharply with the chaos and rage still echoing from ringside. LJ Kasey lies on the padded exam table, a neck brace still in place. Trainers hover over him, checking his pupils, stabilizing his shoulder, running gloved fingers along the side of his neck. The stretcher he was brought in on sits just out of frame.

Off to one side, Miles Kasey is pacing like a caged animal, hands buried in his hair, jaw flexing with a fury he’s barely containing. Carter stands next to him with both hands on Miles’ shoulders, grounding him, keeping him from storming out the door and hunting Barnhart down himself. Alexandra Callaway is at LJ’s side, clutching one of his hands, her face pale with fear and anger.

A camera crew rounds the corner, followed quickly by backstage reporter Stoner Scott Oliver. He approaches cautiously, mic in hand.

Stoner Scott Oliver: Miles... Carter... Ally... I’m sorry to intrude, but we all saw what happened out there. Fans are terrified, and everyone wants to know, how is LJ doing?

The medic closest to Stoner shoots him a sharp side-eye as he finishes checking LJ’s vitals.

Lead Medic: His neck is stable. We’re being very careful until imaging confirms no serious damage. He’s responsive, but we’re not letting him move until we complete neurological checks.

LJ winces, shifting slightly before one of the medics gently presses his shoulder to keep him still.

LJ: *weak, voice rough* I’m fine...

Alexandra: *firm, panic showing through her anger* No. You are not fine, LJ. Just stay still.

Stoner steps closer, careful but persistent.

Stoner Scott Oliver: LJ, if you’re able, can you tell us anything about what happened? The attack... the piledriver on the concrete... Bulldog Bill Barnhart has been vocal for weeks, but this...this went far beyond that.

LJ blinks slowly, breathing through the pain, his jaw tightens with it before he’s able to speak.

LJ: ...Save it... Scott. Not... doing an interview right now.

Stoner nods, backing off, but not fully leaving.

Stoner Scott Oliver: It’s understood LJ but- But... earlier Barnhart took more shots at the younger roster members. He specifically singled you out again, calling you entitled, disrespectful, and saying the “kids” need to be put in their place. Do you...

Miles storms into frame before he can finish.

Miles: Hey! HEY! He said he’s not doing this right now! Back up!

Carter pulls Miles back by the arm.

HBCarter: Miles, stop. He’s just doing his job.

Miles: *snaps back* Yeah? Well maybe his job shouldn’t be sticking a mic in my brother’s face when he’s strapped to a bloody table!

Stoner raises a hand apologetically.

Stoner Scott Oliver: Right! You’re right and I’m sorry. I’ll step back. But before I go, LJ, Barnhart’s words earlier... and now this attack... Do you have anything you want to say to him? Anything at all?

LJ’s eyes finally open a bit more. He turns them toward Stoner with a slow, pained breath.

LJ: *quiet but razor sharp* Yeah... just one thing...

The medics wait, still working around him.

LJ: If that old bastard can... actually see his feet past that gut...he can step up anytime he wants. But next time... he won’t get me from behind.

Ally closes her eyes, half angry, half relieved he’s still himself.

Stoner Scott Oliver: ...Alright. You heard it. We’ll let the medical team continue working.

Stoner exits as the camera lingers. Miles leans over LJ, shaking his head.

Miles: *soft, furious* You scared the hell out of us, kid...

LJ: *barely audible* ...Sorry.

Alexandra: You can apologize later. Just focus on breathing right now.

The medical staff continue their work as the tension in the room hangs thick and unmoving. Miles paces again, hands flexing, breathing hard like he’s barely two words away from snapping. Carter and Ally keep their focus on LJ. The door opens quietly—but the energy in the room shifts immediately.

Evelyn Hall, SCW General Manager, steps into frame. Her posture says she expected this room to be volatile. She takes in the sight with LJ on the table, Miles wound tight as barbed wire, Carter tense, Ally hovering protectively. She steps closer, her tone respectful but firm.

Evelyn Hall: First... I wanted to check on LJ myself. How is he?

The lead medic speaks without looking up.

Lead Medic: We’re stabilizing him. He’ll be transported to a local facility for imaging and observation. They’ll know more after scans, but he’s responding and that’s the most important thing.

Evelyn nods, visibly relieved before turning her eyes on Miles.

Evelyn Hall: Miles... I know this is not how tonight was supposed to go for your family.

Miles stops pacing, swallowing hard, arms shaking with controlled anger.

Miles: No. No it wasn’t. And if you’re here to tell me to calm down, or let the system handle it... do me a favor and don’t. I already have enough going on with this horseshit from Jones and now my little brother is on the table like a slab of meat...

Evelyn raises a hand.

Evelyn Hall: I’m not here to tell you that. I know exactly what Barnhart did and exactly how far over the line he stepped. And while I cannot let you go after him tonight...I can give you an outlet next week.

Miles stiffens, eyes narrowing.

Miles: ...What kind of outlet?

Evelyn takes one step closer, her voice low and controlled.

Evelyn Hall: Next week...It’s you versus Bulldog Bill Barnhart. One-on-one.

The room freezes for a beat. Miles’ jaw tightens, a dark, dangerous smile cutting slowly across his face.

Miles: *exhaling, almost a growl* Good. Good. I’ve been waiting to get my hands on him ever since he started running his mouth about LJ and after what he did tonight? I’m gonna make sure he regrets every damn word.

Evelyn gives a single, decisive nod.

Evelyn Hall: Just make sure you show up ready. Barnhart crossed a line tonight, but next week, it happens in the ring, under my authority. Not out there in the hallway.

She glances once more at LJ, her expression softening.

Evelyn Hall: LJ... when you’re able, we’ll talk. For now, just focus on recovering. Everyone else—if you need anything from the medical team or from me, you let me know.

With one last look at Miles, who is vibrating with focused, barely restrained fury, Evelyn turns and exits. The door closes gently behind her. Miles leans both hands on the edge of the exam table, staring down at LJ with fire in his eyes.

Miles: *quiet, lethal* Next week, Bill’s mine.

LJ smirks up at him and nudges him with his finger.

LJ: Just do me a favor, bro...And leave a little bit left for me?

Miles: Oh, don’t worry, I will let you put the Bulldog down, once and for all.

The camera slowly pulls back as the medics continue their work.

“Breaking The Law” by Judas Priest plays over the sound system as Liam Davies, wearing a Police Shield Chest protector and a black shirt with black trousers and black boots, also wearing gloves and elbow pads stamping his feet with his nightstick and handcuffs in his pocket. He stamps his feet, shaking his whole body about to the ring.

Justin: From Orlando, Florida, he is Order Of Authority, Liam Davis!

Liam slides in the ring and holds up his nightstick to the fans. After he did that, Liam gives the weapons of his nightstick and the handcuffs to the ringside announcer before going in the ring again and pumps his fists in the air before standing in the middle of the ring, waiting for his Logan Hunter to come out. As Liam waits in the ring for Logan’s entrance he paces back and forth in the ring waiting for Logan, and then..

“Hi Barbie!
Hi Ken!
You wanna go for a ride?
Sure Ken!
Hop in!”

Simone:Oh sweet jesus no!

Lunam: This is gonna be stuck in my head for the entirety of December!

“Barbie Girl” by Aqua hits the speakers and Logan angrily storms out dressed as Ken, Brooke and Marissa are dressed as Barbie and Marissa is way into it.

“COME ON BARBIE LET’S GO PARTY!”

“AH AH HA YEAH!”

Justin: Err, representing the Go Gym and being accompanied by the Barbies, KEN!

Simone:And now we know what Evelynn meant last week!

Lunam: Oh god!

“Ken” storms down to the ring and enters it, staring down Liam. Liam explodes across the canvas. He hits Logan like a freight train, tackling him to the mat before Logan can even rise to his feet. Liam rains down heavy shots, fists, elbows, anything he can throw, driving Logan backward until Logan’s head bounces off the bottom turnbuckle. Logan’s grin flickers into something feral as Liam drags him up by the collar just to smash him with another brutal forearm that echoes through the arena.

DING DING DING!

Simone: Liam Davis is taking the fight straight to Logan!

Lunam: Yeah, but Logan likes getting hit. It wakes him up, like poking something you shouldn’t poke.

Logan surged up with a brutal lariat that spun Liam to the mat, the impact echoing through the ring boards. He jerked Liam upright again and hurled him with a belly-to-belly suplex that landed with a thundering crash. Logan followed immediately with a running dropkick that sent Liam into the turnbuckles hard enough to rattle the ring.

The crowd wasn’t quiet for a second.

Crowd: “COME ON BARBIE LET’S GO PARTY!”
“AH AH AH YEAH!”

Liam wiped blood from his lip, Logan’s earlier kick had busted him open slightly, and stepped in again. Liam, showing grit, caught Logan’s waist and countered with a spinebuster that shook the mat. Logan arched in pain, but Liam wasn’t finished. He dragged Logan up, hooked him, and delivered a crisp backbreaker across his knee before locking in a Fujiwara armbar.

Simone:That’s deep! Logan might be in trouble early!

Lunam: He won’t quit. He’d rather pass out, die, resurrect, and complain about the lighting before he taps that soon.

Logan clawed his fingers toward the ropes, dragging both men across the canvas until his fingertips grazed the bottom rope. The referee forced the break. Liam rose to his feet with a determined expression, shaking out the arm he had wrenched moments earlier.

Momentum swung again when Liam whipped Logan toward the corner. Logan leapt onto the turnbuckle in one fluid motion and sprang backward with a flying elbow, his springboard signature, crashing clean into Liam’s jaw. Liam toppled backward. Logan rolled through to his feet smoothly and drove a knee into Liam’s spine before hitting the ropes again, this time launching a sliding dropkick straight into Liam’s ribs.

Lunam: Logan’s rhythm is starting. This is where the match becomes a problem.

Liam tried rising, but Logan hooked him, executed a sharp brainbuster, then flopped across his chest for a cover.

ONE!

TWO!

Logan didn’t waste time reacting, he dragged Liam toward the corner and ascended the ropes, preparing for a moonsault. Liam jolted awake, sprinted up the buckles with him, and delivered a massive superplex that sent both men crashing.

The crowd rose to their feet as both wrestlers writhed on the mat.

Crowd: “COME ON BARBIE LET’S GO PARTY!”
“AH AH AH YEAH!”

Simone:Both men are down! That superplex shook the entire ring!

Lunam: And probably rearranged Logan’s spine. Liam’s fighting for everything tonight.

As Logan rolled toward the ropes, the cameras cut backstage for a brief interruption. Miles and Alexandra stood in the hallway, arms folded, watching the match on a monitor. They were laughing with exaggerated mockery, dancing terribly and chanting along with the crowd.

Miles: COME ON BARBIE LET’S GO PARTY!

Alexandra: AH AH AH YEAH!

MIles doubled over laughing at his own dramatic pose, clearly enjoying every second of Logan being punished in the ring.

Simone:LJ and Alexandra enjoying Logan’s misery… should’ve expected that.

Lunam: If Logan wins, they’re gonna vanish the moment he walks backstage.

Simone:Doubtful, they don’t fear him.

Back in the ring, Liam dragged Logan upright and fired rapid punches into his ribs, trying to wear him down. Logan answered with a low kick, a second, then a third, chopping Liam’s base until he could yank him forward into a ripcord knee strike that blasted him flat. Logan shook the ring ropes violently, adrenaline flowing, then sprinted toward Liam for a powerbomb attempt.

Liam sandbagged, fought free, and hit a running bulldog that spiked Logan face-first onto the canvas. He followed immediately by locking in the STF, wrenching back on Logan’s chin with everything he had.

Simone:That could do it! Liam’s got it locked in!

Lunam: Logan might actually be fading.

But Logan powered forward, dragging them again toward the ropes. Inch by inch, forearm over forearm, he reached the bottom rope and forced the break once more. Both men were breathing heavily now. Sweat dripped from their faces, their chests heaving as they rose at nearly the same time. Logan swung for a lariat. Liam ducked. Logan spun and blasted him with a superkick that hit flush. He hooked Liam immediately, lifting him for the Divine Right of Kings, the Fisherman’s Brainbuster, but Liam kicked wildly, escaped, and delivered a desperate enzuigiri to the back of Logan’s skull.

The crowd exploded again as both men collapsed. Liam is trying to go for a pin.

ONE!

TWO!

Logan kicked out. Slowly, painfully, they rose again. Liam struck first with stiff punches, forcing Logan into the corner. He hoisted Logan onto the top turnbuckle, signaling for a superplex again, but Logan headbutted him twice, hard enough to make him stumble. Logan hooked Liam’s waist, stood fully on the top ropes, and with a guttural roar, delivered the Salvation Denied, the Avalanche Falcon Arrow, shaking the ring so violently that even the commentators jolted.

Simone:Avalanche Falcon Arrow! Logan hit it!

Lunam: That’s it. Nobody kicks out of that!

Logan didn’t go for the pin. Instead, he rose slowly, dripping sweat, and stared down at Liam like a hunter poised over wounded prey. He lifted Liam again, doubled him over, locked the arms and with a vicious snap spiked him with the Hope Ends, his double-underhook Impaler DDT.

The ring went silent for a split second before Logan rolled him over and hooked the leg.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

DING DING DING!

The bell rang sharply.

Justin: Here is your winner! Log-er, excuse me! KEN!

Logan didn’t gloat, he simply pushed to his feet, chest heaving, blood trickling from his lip as he stared down at the man he’d just defeated. The referee raised his arm, Brooke clapped from outside but didn’t enter the ring, keeping her distance as ordered. Logan stood tall, victorious, bruised, but undeniably dominant.

Simone:Logan Hunter survives an absolute war tonight.

Lunam: Survives? He owned the final moment. Like him or not, that was a hell of a finish.

The chant rose one last time, playful and chaotic.

Crowd: “COME ON BARBIE LET’S GO PARTY!”
“AH AH AH YEAH!”

Logan looked toward the crowd, smirked faintly despite the pain, and raised his fist in victory.

The scene opens backstage at Climax Control where we see Cassie Wolfe leaning against the wall with her arms crossed.

Cassie: I missed Violent Conduct without any explanation, and I almost missed High Stakes until I decided “fuck that” and called out the fact that I was being passed over for idiots who haven’t been relevant in years!

Cassie shakes her head.

Cassie: And yet I as the one in the wrong? Look at Candy’s record since High Stakes and tell me, with a straight face, that she actually deserved that opportunity!

Cassie scoffs before kicking off the wall.

Cassie: Here’s the thing folks, I said back in week one that I will be a champion in 2026 and I meant it! But not without working my ass off to get there and it starts at Inception! I don’t care who it is, I’m throwing out a challenge to any Bombshell who doesn’t already have a match scheduled for Inception.

Cassie adds before she starts to walk off.

Cassie: See you soon!

Cassie walks off as the scene fades.

As the crowd awaits the next exciting SCW moment, “Clouds” by NF plays on the speaker, signaling the arrival of “Unbreakable” Eddie Lyons who is treated to a roaring ovation when he appears and heads to the ring, where he requests a microphone. Once the crowd settles down he begins to speak.

Eddie Lyons: How we doin’ tonight Colorado Springs? Enjoying the show?

The crowd responds with cheers.

Eddie Lyons: Good, good. Now, You all know who I am, and you know how much this business and this ring means to me. You know I consider myself a pretty nice guy but there are three things in particular that if you speak ill of I can't help but take the matter a little personal.

He pauses.

Eddie Lyons: Now my own means you can say what you will about me personally call me and choke artist say I have some holy sanctimonious holier then now attitude, say idling too much on my honor and it will always hold me back that sort of thing I can handle.

He pauses again.

Eddie Lyons: Disparaging remarks about me usually just become white noise, but what you're not going to do is put down my wife, put down my daughter or put down my work ethic and last week a man named Braden Hilton broke rule number three, When he questioned not just my work ethic The work ethic of the Lyon's Den in general.

The crowd boos for Brayden's remarks.

Eddie Lyons: The truth is Brayden you aren't ready for the workrate of me or anyone from The Lyons. You wouldn't be ready to step in against Vincent, or even Victoria. But you didn't name my cousins, you named me, and yeah I took you questioning my work ethic a bit personally which is why I'm going to challenge you to a particular match that this crowd has seen before, one that we at the Lyon's Den usually save to settle a blood feud. One where we're going to remove the ring ropes…

Simone: Wait a second I might know where this is going.

Lunam: Well I'm curious what Eddie has in mind.

Eddie Lyons: …. We're going to surround the ring with lions, or lumberjacks, whatever you want to call them so there's no escape and the only way to win is by submission, knockout, or referee decision. You want to question to workrate of those of us from The Lyons Den? Then I challenge you to step INTO the Lyons Den, and I'll show you what we're all about. If you have the balls, I challenge you to a Lyons Den match.

Simone: We saw Vincent take part in a Lyons Den match on the Princess Cruise and it was certainly a very violent affair. Now it looks like we might get to see how Eddie Lyons does it.

Lunam: Well I wasn't here for that one, but it certainly sounds intriguing I hope Brayden accepts.

Eddie Lyons: The choice is yours Brayden, let's see if you really are the man you say you are.

With that Eddie drops the mic and leaves to “Clouds” by NF.

Narrator: Tired of candles that make sense and smell pleasant? Well stop that right now! Introducing the Holiday Scent Confuser Candle Set, the only trio of holiday candles guaranteed to make your nose ask what is happening!

You will get three luxurious confusingly awful fragrances! Peppermint Pumpkin Nog! Cinnamon Pine Laundry and Sugar Cookie Fireplace! They all smell strangely the same and none of them smell good exactly and that is our promise to you!

And here to suffer on your behalf is SCW World Heavyweight Champion Helluva Bottom Carter

HBCarter: Hi I am Helluva Bottom Carter and I agreed to do this before they told me what the candles smelled like so that is on me!

Narrator: Carter we are starting strong with Peppermint Pumpkin Nog go ahead champ!

HBCarter: Okay cute little jar, nice label, very seasonal!

He opens it and immediately stops smile slowly dying.

HBCarter: Oh wow that is um … that is like if a candy cane got into a fight with a leftover latte in a gym locker?

Narrator: Mmm! Yes! ophisticated chaos on the palate!

HBCarter: My nose just tapped out!

Narrator: But do not blow out your hopes yet, Carter, because now we move on to Cinnamon Pine Laundry! The candle that asks the brave question; is that pine or pizza?

HBCarter: All right! I love cinnamon, I love pine, I love clean laundry so how bad can this be…?

He takes a dramatic sniff and physically recoils.

HBCarter: That is not a smell, that is a personal attack! It is like someone mopped a forest floor with hot apple cider and then tumble dried it with a pair of old socks!

Narrator: And yet it smells vaguely like the first candle, does it not?

HBCarter: Exactly! It smells like the first candle went to college and made questionable choices!

Narrator: Perfectly on brand! And finally the one you have not been waiting for Sugar Cookie Fireplace!

HBCarter: Okay sugar cookie, adorable fireplace, cozy … I believe in you last candle do not hurt me…

Sniffs then freezes eyes going wide.

HBCarter: Why does this smell like if someone tried to bake cookies in a space heater behind a pizzeria next to a Christmas tree lot!?

Narrator: Because synergy!

HBCarter: Why do they all smell like they were created by a committee that has never met a real human nose?

Narrator: Because we focus tested this set on people who answered yes when asked do you enjoy being confused and slightly upset.

HBCarter: Okay but why do all three smell basically identical with just different shapes of disappointment?

Narrator: Consistency!

HBCarter: So let me get this straight… Peppermint Pumpkin Nog Cinnamon Pine Laundry and Sugar Cookie Fireplace all give off the same vague vibe of is that pine or pizza followed by a hint of warm laundry and regret.

Narrator: Precisely and you too can have this experience in every room of your home!

Light Peppermint Pumpkin Nog in the kitchen! Friends will say I smell something is that dessert or did the radiator break?

Light Cinnamon Pine Laundry in the living room and guests will murmur it is kind of festive but also kind of like the mall food court at closing time!

Light Sugar Cookie Fireplace in the bedroom and your partner will ask do we need to check the oven the vents and maybe call someone?

HBCarter: Nothing says holidays like mutual concern and nasal confusion.

Narrator: Exactly!

This set is perfect for…

People who are tired of candles that smell clearly like one thing!

Holiday hosts who want their guests to stay slightly alert and emotionally puzzled!

That one friend who says I love weird scents and then instantly regrets it!

HBCarter: Also a great gift for your enemies but like in a classy way.

Narrator: Let us talk features! Each candle is lovingly poured into a festive jar that looks far more appealing than what it contains! Our proprietary confusion blend ensures that the base note mid note and top note all kind of smell like a distant pizza parlor near a pine forest beside a laundromat!

HBCarter: You are not selling candles, you are selling oddly specific memories of mildly bad decisions!

Narrator: And you can get all three in this exclusive Holiday Scent Confuser Candle Set!

Call the number on your screen or visit our website right now! If you order in the next ten minutes we will upgrade your set to the deluxe confusion bundle at no extra cost!

HBCarter: What does that mean?

Narrator: You will get a second full candle set plus a bonus mystery mini candle that smells like all three main scents at once but stronger!

HBCarter: So like nuclear pizza pine nog laundry cookie energy?

Narrator: Precisely!

HBCarter: Look, I have been slammed through tables, I have been hit with chairs, I have survived the wildest matches SCW can throw at m… None of that prepared me for the moment my brain tried to process these aromas! If you want your holidays to be peaceful and cozy this is not for you! If you want your holidays to be an ongoing nose based guessing game starring you your guests and the fragile trust between you then absolutely get this set!

Narrator: Holiday Scent Confuser Candle Set is that pine or pizza no one knows and that is the festive thrill! Light one up and give your holidays the confusing chaotic aroma they truly deserve!

Justin Decent stands in the center of the ring to announce the upcoming contest.

Justin: The following match is scheduled for one all to a finish! Introducing first…!

Tommy Vext's "Cancel the king" hits and as the lyrics of the intro cut into the guitar Alex steps out wearing a black and red "wolfslair" t-shirt and his wrestling gear. He makes his way down to the ring with an arrogant sneer before leaping up onto the ring apron before stepping through the ropes.

Justin: Currently in the ring! From Dallas, Texas! Weighing two hundred and twenty five pounds! Alex JONES!

The crowd boos but Alex has his supporters as he stands in the corner with his arms raised, facing the crowd!

Simone: January 11! That man right there will be challenging Miles Kasey for the Internet Championship in Las Vegas, Nevada!

Lunam: And after what Alex did to LJ two weeks ago, and everything he’s said? That match is going to be epic!

Justin: And his opponent…!

The arena goes dark, then bursts alive with flashing neon strobes. As “I’m Made of Wax, Larry…” hits, Ryan Keys explodes onto the stage with infectious energy. He spreads his arms wide, sunglasses glinting, before jogging side-to-side to pump the crowd.

Justin: From Las Vegas, Nevada! Weighing two hundred and twenty five pounds! Ryan KEYS!!

Ryan points to the fans, slaps hands down the ramp, and slides dramatically into the ring. He leaps onto the turnbuckle, tossing his shades into the crowd before striking a playful pose. With a grin and a wink, Ryan hops down, bouncing on his feet, ready to turn the match into his dance floor.

Simone: Two times, back to back, did that young man right there - Ryan Keys - take Miles Kasey to the very brink of defeat!

Lunam: And you know that Ryan is not stopping there! Sooner or later, gold is going to be around that lad’s waist!

Referee Jasmine St. John calls for the opening bell!

DING DING DING!

The opening bell cuts through the roar of the Broadmoor World Arena, and ten thousand fans swell into a single rolling wave of noise as Alex Jones and Ryan Keys step from their corners, eyes locked. The high-altitude air in Colorado Springs feels charged, tense, like it might crackle between them at any second. Alex, the smirk of a man utterly certain of his own superiority etched on his face, rolls his shoulders and flexes his taped fingers, testing the ropes once for that familiar give. Ryan, taller by a couple of inches but matched perfectly in weight, bounces lightly on the balls of his feet, shaking out his arms, his gaze never leaving the man across from him.

Simone: This arena is rocking tonight, and you can feel the energy just spike now that this match is underway.

Lunam: You can also feel the disdain from Alex Jones. He does not respect Ryan Keys. That has been obvious all week long.

They circle, each step deliberate, the squeak of boots on canvas barely audible beneath the thunder of the crowd. Alex extends a testing hand and then snaps it back, feinting for a collar-and-elbow but instead darting in low, looking to snatch a leg. Ryan sprawls with ring-honed instinct, sprawling his weight down onto Alex’s shoulders and hooking a front facelock. The two men grind against each other, muscle against muscle, Alex driving forward to the ropes and forcing the break. The referee slides in between, arms wide. Alex raises both hands as if to be the perfect sportsman, then sneaks in a sharp, grinding forearm across the jaw as they separate, drawing a chorus of boos that only makes his smirk widen.

Simone: Cheap shot from Alex. Right out of the gate.

Lunam: That is called sending a message, Belinda. Ryan wanted to get technical, Alex is reminding him that this is a fight, not a dance.

Ryan rubs his jaw, lips tightening, but he does not back down. They tie up again, this time with more force, shoulders and necks straining. Alex pivots first, smoothly dropping his weight and slipping behind into a tight hammerlock, wrenching Ryan’s arm up between the shoulder blades. The technical precision is undeniable; he rides Ryan’s attempts to twist free, adjusting his stance, grinding the hold in deeper. Ryan drops to one knee, then rolls, trying to alleviate the pressure and reach the ropes. Alex stays glued to him, forcing him back up with the captured arm twisted at a punishing angle. Then, without warning, Alex yanks him forward, releases, and whips around with a short, brutal clothesline that scythes Keys to the mat.

Simone: Hammerlock into that lariat, folding Ryan right up.

Lunam: That is the hybrid offense Alex loves. He will grind you down with pure technique, then knock your head off when you least expect it.

Alex drops to one knee and clamps his hands around the back of Ryan’s neck, dragging him up. He shifts his grip, threading an arm under Ryan’s chin and over the shoulder, snapping him down with a crisp snapmare. Ryan lands on the small of his back and tailbone, the impact jarring up his spine. Alex does not give him a breath. A sharp kick cracks across the upper back, an almost surgical soccer kick that snaps Ryan’s head forward. Another follows to the shoulder blade, then one angled into the ribs. Each kick is stiff, straight, the flat of the shin or laces striking with that ugly, echoing sound that makes the front rows wince. When Ryan tries to push up, Alex steps in and drives the sole of his boot between his shoulder blades, pinning him down in a grinding stomp.

Keys claws toward the ropes, dragging both of them forward inch by inch. Alex allows it, like a cat toying with its prey, before he abruptly releases, sprints past Ryan to the ropes, and rebounds with surgical timing. He dives low and rolls, his arm snapping up under Ryan’s chin as he spins through with a rolling neck snap that whiplashes Ryan’s head backward. Ryan collapses to the canvas, both hands instinctively flying to the base of his skull.

Simone: Alex targeting the neck early here, and he is doing it with frightening precision.

Lunam: You soften that neck and spine, and suddenly moves like the Dragons Breath become absolutely devastating. He is laying foundations.

Alex, ever opportunistic, covers with a forearm grinding across Ryan’s face. The referee drops into position.

ONE!

TWO!

Kick out!

Ryan jerks a shoulder off the mat, forcing Alex to adjust and slide away. The crowd pops at the early show of resilience, chants rising in pockets for Keys, trying to feed him some energy as he rolls toward a corner and clutches the middle rope, using it to pull himself upright. His neck still aches, a dull burn radiating down between his shoulder blades, but there is clarity in his eyes.

Alex advances like a stalking predator. Ryan sidesteps at the last instant, slipping behind Alex with a sudden burst of speed and catching him around the waist. Before Alex can widen his stance, Ryan pops his hips and rattles off a quick snap suplex, rolling through with the motion. The ring shakes as Alex hits flat. Ryan clings, trying to chain it, dragging them both up again and torquing into a second snap suplex that leaves Alex briefly stunned, staring at the lights. Rather than go for a third, Ryan releases and rolls away, giving himself a few precious seconds to shake life back into his arm and neck.

Simone: That is that technical base Ryan Keys is known for. Explosive, crisp, and smart enough to break when he needs distance.

Lunam: He had a nice little flurry, no doubt. The question is whether his neck holds up if Alex gets hold of him again.

Alex pushes up, irritation etched across his features. He charges, trying to grab Ryan in a wild collar tie. Ryan answers with sudden elevation, launching a perfect standing dropkick, both boots thudding flush into Alex’s chest. The heel stumbles back and drops to a knee, hand pressed against his sternum. The crowd surges behind Ryan as he kips back to his feet; he hits the far ropes in a blur and comes rushing back, rebounding into a spinning heel kick that catches Alex along the jaw, snapping his head sideways and sending him slumping into the ropes.

Keys does not hesitate. He steps to the apron, hand on the top rope, gauges the distance with one quick glance, and then launches, springboarding in with a forearm that rockets across the air. His body twists, leading arm extended, and the forearm smashes against Alex’s temple, driving him back into the turnbuckles. Alex staggers out of the corner and drops face-first to the mat. Ryan rolls into a cover, hooking one leg deep.

ONE!

TWO!

Kick out!

Alex twists a shoulder up just in time, his expression flashing from dazed to enraged. Ryan stays on him, however, cinching a front facelock as they both rise. He pivots sideways, runs a step, and drops into a running bulldog that spikes Alex face-first again, the heel’s hands snapping to his nose and mouth as he hits.

Simone: Ryan Keys is rolling now, chaining that aerial flare with grounded offense.

Lunam: Right now he is riding momentum. But if he takes one wrong risk, Alex will make him pay for it.

Keys drags Alex upright and whips him hard into the corner. The turnbuckles rattle. Ryan takes off in a sprint, leaping and turning his body midair, looking for a leg lariat across Alex’s chest. Alex ducks out at the last instant and Ryan’s thigh slams into the top pad. He lands awkwardly on one foot before his momentum sends him crashing down in the corner, his elbow and hip taking the worst of it.

Alex slides out to the apron, mind working quickly, spotting an opening. As Ryan struggles to pull himself upright using the ropes, Alex takes two running steps along the apron and launches into the air, clearing the ropes entirely with a smooth, arcing tope con hilo. His back smashes across Ryan’s shoulders and upper chest, driving both men down in a tangle of limbs near the ropes. The impact and the sudden shift of momentum electrify the crowd, even as they boo the aggressor.

Simone: Good grief, Alex just threw his whole body at Ryan with that dive. That is the hybrid style we talked about, he will fly if he thinks it will hurt you.

Lunam: That is not the pretty, crowd-pleasing version of aerial offense. That was pure collision, all about damage.

Alex is first to his feet on the outside, breathing hard but grinning, taking a moment to jaw at front-row fans before dragging Ryan up by the head. He guides Keys to the apron and drives him spine-first into the edge, that sharp, unforgiving frame of the ring. Ryan arches, mouth open in silent pain. Alex follows with a barrage of stiff martial arts kicks, each one angled into the ribs or lower back, short and efficient, the crack of shin on flesh echoing off the arena walls. After three blistering shots, he scoops Keys up, turns, and drops him across his knee in a pendulum backbreaker, hanging him for a heartbeat so the spine bends over that cruel fulcrum, then shoving him off to sprawl on the floor.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

FOUR!

FIVE…

The referee’s count climbs toward five before Alex slides back under the bottom rope, not wanting a count-out yet. The official’s cadence resets as Alex reaches through the ropes, grabbing a handful of Ryan’s hair and trunks, hauling him back in under the bottom strand. Ryan clutches at his back, breathing shallowly, but Alex has no mercy in mind. He drags Keys to the center, sits behind him, and snakes his arms around the face and one arm, flowing deftly into a Koji Clutch variation, hooking one of Ryan’s arms over his own leg while threading his other limb under Ryan’s neck. With a fast twist of his hips, Alex rolls to the side and cinches in the pressure, his thighs clamping down around Ryan’s trapped shoulder and neck, wrenching the head back at an ugly angle.

Simone: There it is, Koji Clutch applied right in the middle of the ring. That is nasty on the neck and the shoulder.

Lunam: This is genius. He has spent the whole match tenderizing that neck and spine, and now he is trying to see if Ryan has enough left to survive this.

Ryan’s boots drum against the canvas as he struggles, one arm flailing free. The pressure on his neck is severe, cutting off both air and blood, the world starting to shrink at the edges. He forces himself to breathe in short, ragged bursts, planting one heel against the mat and digging deep. The crowd rallies, clapping in rhythm, chanting his name. Inch by inch, Ryan twists his body sideways, trying to shift his weight and drag both of them toward the ropes. Alex shakes his head furiously, teeth clenched, arching back even further to increase the torque.

The strain is etched across both men’s faces. Ryan’s fingertips scrape the canvas, stretching toward the bottom rope, and fall short. He grits down, pushes again, and finally hooks the strand with the tips of his fingers, dragging it toward his palm with desperate effort. The referee immediately calls for the break, tapping Alex on the shoulder and counting. Alex holds until four and a half, milking every fraction of a second, before he finally releases and rolls away with both hands raised in theatrical innocence.

Simone: Ryan gets the ropes, but how much did that take out of him?

Lunam: Enough that if Alex can hit one big move now, this might be over. That clutch was deep.

Ryan coughs and clutches at his neck, the burn in his spine intensifying. He pulls himself up in the corner, chest heaving. Alex charges, looking to crush him with a high running knee. At the last heartbeat, instinct takes over; Ryan pivots out of the corner and Alex strikes the turnbuckles knee-first, his leg jolting with impact. He stumbles backward, momentarily off balance.

Ryan seizes the opening. He steps up and snaps an enzuigiri to the side of Alex’s head, his heel catching just behind the ear. Alex crumples to one knee, dazed. Ryan stumbles, nearly losing his footing as his abused back twinges, but he steadies himself and bolts for the ropes. He rebounds and throws his leg out in a sideways arc, cracking Alex across the chest with a leg lariat that flattens him to the mat.

The momentum carries Ryan forward into the corner, where he grabs the middle rope and takes a quick breath. He looks back, sees Alex sprawled on his back, and climbs up to the second rope. With the crowd rising, he springs off in a tight arc, twisting his core and tucking his knees before snapping out into a crisp moonsault. His body rotates perfectly, chest and ribs slamming down across Alex’s torso. He hooks a leg deeply, folding the heel back on himself.

ONE!

TWO!

Kick out!

The shoulder comes up, and Ryan rolls off, frustration flickering across his face. The altitude is biting into his lungs now, every breath feeling a little thinner, but he pushes himself up. He cannot slow down. He drags Alex toward center ring, then yanks him up in a front facelock, spinning and dropping low to whip him over with a quick Russian leg sweep. Alex lands on the back of his head and shoulders, hand shooting to his neck.

Simone: Keys is answering that technical offense with some of his own. Snap suplexes, Russian leg sweep, moonsault. This is the complete package on display.

Lunam: He is good, no one can deny that. The problem is that Alex Jones is not just good, he is vicious.

Ryan pulls Alex to his feet and whips him toward the ropes. Alex rebounds and ducks a clothesline, hitting the opposite ropes with renewed speed. Ryan lowers his center of gravity, ready for a back body drop, but Alex reads it. On the return, he plants one foot, springs upward, and whips his body forward into a graceful nip up hurricanrana, his legs snapping around Ryan’s head. In one fluid motion, he uses his core to flip Keys forward and send him tumbling across the ring, landing hard on shoulders and upper back.

The crowd gasps. Alex rolls through the landing and pops to his feet, that cocky smirk back as he shakes his head at the fans. He stalks after Ryan, who is on hands and knees, trying to reorient himself. Alex steps in and drills a step up enzuguri, the AJ Guri snapping off his boot, the heel connecting flush with Ryan’s temple. The impact drops Keys face-first to the mat, motionless for a second that feels far too long. Alex sprawls over him for the cover, hooking the near leg.

ONE!

TWO!

Ryan twists, somehow lacking the strength to throw Alex off but rolling his shoulder just enough to break the count. The arena explodes, the crowd almost disbelieving that he is still in it. Alex slams a fist into the mat once, annoyance finally breaking through his veneer of control.

Simone: The heart of Ryan Keys on display. That AJ Guri has put a lot of people down.

Lunam: That was instinct. Pure survival. But how many times can instinct save you?

Alex drags Keys upright and shoves him backward into the corner. He lines up and drives a stiff martial arts kick into Ryan’s thigh, then another to the inside of the knee. He is changing targets, the strategy shifting. He hooks one of Ryan’s legs over the middle rope and kicks at the joint, each strike short and vicious. Ryan’s face contorts in pain, hands clutching at the ropes to keep himself upright. The referee admonishes Alex, counting, but the heel breaks just long enough to avoid disqualification before resuming his assault, hacking away at that base.

Satisfied, Alex pulls Ryan out of the corner and sweeps the damaged leg out from under him with a precise kick. As Keys collapses, Alex wraps up the limb, stepping over it and turning, sitting back into a textbook figure four leg lock. The hold snaps into place, Alex’s legs scissoring around Ryan’s, ankles and knees forming an agonizing knot of pressure. He drops to his back, then arches his own hips upward, amplifying the torque, trying to tear at tendons and strain ligaments.

Ryan howls, both hands flying to his hair, back arching as the pain floods upward from his trapped knee and shin. Each adjustment of Alex’s hips changes the angle, sending spikes of agony through the joint. Ryan tries to drag them both toward the ropes, but every attempt is answered by Alex rolling them back to center, smirking as he props himself up on his elbows to stare into Ryan’s face.

Simone: Now he is attacking the leg, because he knows how much Ryan relies on that explosive spring in his step, on those kicks and aerial maneuvers.

Lunam: Brilliant strategy. Chop down the leg, and suddenly those moonsaults and running strikes are a lot harder to hit.

The crowd claps rhythmically, calling for Ryan to fight. He grits his teeth, plants both hands on the mat, and twists his hips, trying to reverse the pressure. Alex fights it for a few seconds, but Ryan’s sheer will and leverage start to turn them. In a sudden surge, Ryan flips them over onto Alex’s stomach, reversing the hold so that the pressure now chews at Alex’s knees. Alex yells and immediately claws for the ropes, dragging himself hand over hand until his fingers close around the bottom strand. The referee calls for the break, and Ryan’s grip collapses as he releases, legs trembling.

Both men lie on the mat for a moment, breathing hard, sweat plastering hair to their foreheads. Alex’s face twists in disgust as he massages his knees. Ryan clutches his own leg, rubbing furiously at the knee, trying to coax life back into it. The crowd roars encouragement, sensing the pivotal nature of this moment.

Simone: We are deep into this match now, and both men are starting to wear the marks of it.

Lunam: This is where experience and ring IQ come into play. One mistake, one slip, and it is over.

They rise at nearly the same time, leaning on opposite ropes. Alex advances first, throwing a right hand. Ryan blocks and fires back with a stiff forearm of his own. They trade strikes in the center of the ring, forearms and punches cracking against jawlines and cheekbones, the crowd reacting to every blow. Ryan seems to draw power from the chant rising around him, his strikes growing crisper. He fires a spinning back kick at Alex’s midsection, and though his damaged leg wobbles on the plant, he still manages to drive enough force into Alex’s ribs to make the heel double over.

Ryan hits the ropes, limping slightly, but still moving. He comes off with speed, drives a knee up, and collides with Alex’s kneeling head in a shining wizard variant, Neon Lights flashing as his knee smashes across the side of Alex’s skull. Alex’s body whips backward, then falls flat, arms spread. The crowd erupts, some even leaping to their feet. Ryan collapses into the cover, hooking both legs with desperate strength.

ONE!

TWO!

Alex wrenches a shoulder up at the very last heartbeat, the referee’s hand hovering inches from the mat. A collective groan of disbelief and frustration ripples through the arena. Ryan rolls off, both hands on his face, the adrenaline crash hitting him like a wave.

Simone: Neon Lights connects clean, and Alex Jones still finds a way to kick out. This is unreal.

Lunam: That is what makes him so dangerous. You have to hit him with the perfect shot and then keep him down. Ryan could not do both.

Keys drags himself to the corner, climbing carefully with one hand on the turnbuckle. The leg is screaming, but he knows what he needs. The Broadmoor World Arena buzzes as he climbs to the top rope, every step a test of balance. He glances down, seeing Alex still laid out, and turns his back to the ring, arms extended. This is the high-risk territory where his body and heart have always shined brightest.

He leaps, twisting his body in midair, tucking into a tight rotation. Keys To The Sky, the diving corkscrew senton, unfurls as his body spins, looking to crash down across Alex’s chest. At the last possible instant, Alex rolls just a fraction toward the ropes. Ryan’s back and shoulders smash into the canvas with full force, the shockwave blasting up his spine and into that already wounded neck. He bounces once and then lies still, the breath driven entirely from his lungs.

Simone: He missed. Ryan took that one gamble, and it just did not pay off.

Lunam: That is what I warned about. Against a predator like Alex Jones, one mistake like that is practically a signed confession.

Alex rolls to the ropes and uses them to pull himself up, swaying. He sees Ryan clutching his back and neck, struggling to breathe. The calculation happens behind his eyes in an instant. He steps in and drags Keys up by the hair, rasping for air himself. He shoves Ryan chest-first into the ropes and as Keys rebounds, Alex springs forward, driving a brutal running knee strike high into the jaw, a V-Trigger that sends spit and sweat spraying. Ryan crumples to his knees, eyes glassy, barely conscious.

Alex is not done. He steps around, framing Ryan’s dazed head under his gaze, and then stomps down once on his shoulder to drop him flat. The crowd howls, sensing what is coming as Alex takes a half step back, measuring. He launches forward and stamps down, his boot crashing onto the back of Ryan’s skull and driving his face into the canvas with the vicious finality of the Dragons Breath curb stomp. The impact is sickening, the ring shuddering beneath them. Ryan’s body jerks once and then goes limp, arms spread, face down.

Alex drops to his knees beside him and shoves Ryan over, hooking both legs deep and leaning all his weight across the shoulders. The referee slides into position.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

The Broadmoor World Arena explodes with noise, half of it fury at the result, half of it sheer shock at the violent finality of the finishing stretch. Alex releases the legs and rolls to his side, chest heaving, sweat dripping off his brow. The referee moves to raise his hand, but Alex yanks his arm away, opting instead to push himself unaided to his feet, demanding that the official hold his wrist aloft only when he is centered in the ring, framed by the jeers of the crowd.

DING DING DING!

Justin: Here is your winner! Alex! JONES!

The crowd boos as Alex moves to the corner and stands tall on the center turnbuckle with his arms raised!

Simone: Alex Jones walks away with the victory, but make no mistake that Ryan Keys gave him far more than he bargained for inside of that ring!

Lunam: And that is exactly why it’s just a matter of time before Keys has gold here in SCW!

Alex leans into the camera and calls out Miles Kasey, one finger pointing back toward Ryan who is recovering inside of the ring.

Simone: Message delivered to the Internet Champion!

Alex drops to the mat and moves to a different corner as the camera cuts out.

The screen is black. A faint sound of sleigh bells jingling under a low rumble of crowd noise.

A single line of white text fades in:

This Christmas… Sin City Wrestling gives back!

Slow-motion shot of snowflakes falling over the arena exterior at night, holiday lights wrapped around the entrance. Fans in ugly Christmas sweaters stream toward the doors, holding toys in their arms.

Voice Over: On December 21st… Climax Control transforms into the most wonderful brawl of the year…

CLIMAX CONTROL : SEASON’S BEATINGS

WINTER WONDERSLAM – 12/21/2025

Voice Over: Winter Wonderslam. Season’s Beatings. One night where the rivalries are colder, the hits are harder… and every shot in that ring means something more.

Quick-cut montage:

Helluva Bottom Carter hitting his finisher, rolling to his knees clutching the World Heavyweight Championship while fake snow pours from the rafters.

Alexander Raven glowering in a red-lit hallway, Christmas lights blinking erratically behind him.

Anthrax in a Santa hat, laughing silently into the camera as the picture distorts.

Alexandra Calaway staring up at a candy-cane wrapped ladder.

Miles Kasey and LJ Kasey clinking gear-clad forearms in the locker room, the glow of a tiny Christmas tree behind them.

Voice Over: Champions will be tested. Grudges will be settled. Careers could be changed forever… under twinkling lights and tinsel-wrapped steel.

A quiet locker room. A little kid in a Toys For Tots shirt shyly hands a brand new action figure to Helluva Bottom Carter. Carter kneels, smiles, and signs the box before passing it back.

Voice Over: But this year, it’s not just about who walks out with their hand raised…

Montage of wrestlers handing toys to Marines at a Toys For Tots collection table. Fans stacking board games, dolls, and trucks into overflowing bins. A small child rings a bell as the crowd cheers.

Voice Over: It’s about the kids who wake up on Christmas morning with a reason to smile. Because every ticket, every cheer, every moment helps Toys For Tots bring joy where it’s needed most.

Cut back to high-octane action:

A chair wrapped in red and green ribbon stopping just short of someone’s skull.

A “Christmas Street Fight” with kendo sticks painted like candy canes and a pile of “presents” stacked at ringside.

Someone getting tossed into a giant inflatable snowman at the entrance.

A slow-motion superkick with tinsel flying from the boot.

Voice Over: From brutal Christmas Street Fights… to high-flying winter wars… to main events that could steal the whole holiday…

Spotlight montage:

Carter standing center-ring, championship on his shoulder, staring down an unseen challenger as snow falls.

Alexander Raven on the tron, promising chaos with a wicked smile.

Quick flashes of the rest of the roster: faces and heels alike, all framed by lights, wreaths, and falling snow.

Cut to: A sweeping crowd shot as the arena roars, the ring bathed in red and green.

On-screen text in bold, glowing letters:

CLIMAX CONTROL – SEASON’S BEATINGS

WINTER WONDERSLAM

DECEMBER 21, 2025xxx

Underneath:

ALL PROCEEDS BENEFIT TOYS FOR TOTS

Voice Over: This December… join Sin City Wrestling as we turn Season’s Beatings into a season of giving. One night. One ring. One chance to fight for something bigger than ourselves.

Final shot: A close-up of the Toys For Tots logo stamped onto a wrapped present sitting on the ring apron. A gloved hand grabs the rope, and the present trembles with each thunderous stomp in the ring above.

Fade to black with sleigh bells and the distant roar of the crowd.

Motley Crue's "Wild Side" hits and the members of Wildside, Seleana and Zenna Zdunich along with their manager Maja Lindström, walk to the ring, looking right into the ring the whole way. Upon arrival, Zenna gets the microphone.

Zenna Zdunich: Era jävla fittor!

Looking stunned that the words came out of Zenna's mouth, Maja steps back to avoid falling in shock. Zenna just glares back towards the entrance.

Zenna Zdunich: Eld och raseri…

Her gaze remains locked in place.

Zenna Zdunich: Fire & Fury, you do not have the… fortitude to come out and face us, ja?

The crowd explodes.

Zenna Zdunich: Mercedes has never had it and Christina…

Seleana flinches at the mention of the name.

Zenna Zdunich: I am not speaking to Crystal: World Champion. Tell the actress to sit her ass down, ja?

She nods pointedly.

Zenna Zdunich: What is wrong with you?

The crowd explodes again.

Zenna Zdunich: Everything that happened with you, all the work you put in to overcome your demons and you throw everything away like this?

Shaking her head, Zenna continues glaring towards the entryway.

Zenna Zdunich: Was winning the world title one more time worth what it cost?

The crowd waits in anticipation and all of a sudden the lights in the arena begin to go off. An old Hollywood movie countdown appears on a screen and as soon as it reaches zero flame pyros begin to go off one after the other as Up In Flames by Icon for Hire plays across the speakers.. A red carpet is rolled all the way to the ring and photographers begin to line up. It isn't long before two females walk from behind the curtains. Crystal Zdunich and Mercedes Vargas begin to pose for the crowd. Boos, jeers, and even cat calls welcome the duo but the two actresses slowly make their way to the ring taking in all of the hatred from the crowd. Crystal flips off somebody in the crowd, as Vargas yanks her hand back not wanting to engage with any of the audience. Crystal smirks as she has the World Championship draped over a shoulder.

Justin: Ladies and gentlemen, I give to you Fire & Fury, Crystal Zdunich and Mercedes Vargas.

Crystal is about to get into the ring but she gives Justin a glare as she rolls her finger at him.

Justin: Excuse me, the ONLY six time SCW World Champion Crystal Zdunich!!!!

Crystal smirks loving what she is hearing as the two finally reach the ring where Crystal stretches her legs onto the apron and does a split to enter the ring. Meanwhile Mercedes walks up the stairs slowly and seductively enters into the ring. The two join together inside where they give one another a hi five before taking their spots in the center of the ring for a posed photo for the following of paparazzi. The crowd boos loudly but they just ignore them as they immediately call for microphones.

Zenna Zdunich: Ursäkta mig… but that is NOT Crystal Zdunich… that is either Christina Zdunich, my sister's estranged wife and the addict who came to me for help or Crystal Hilton, actress extraordinaire.

Mercedes Vargas: ¡Cállate, vagabundo! You can sit there and throw your Swedish insults at us but we can proudly send Spanish back in your direction. Does it matter who Crystal is?! From where I am standing she is holding the very thing that makes her the absolute best and at the end of the day that’s all that matters. It may not be to you considering you are just a woman who is a never was!

Crystal just nods her head as she walks past Zenna ignoring her sister in-law as she stands face to face with her wife. A warm smile escapes her lips as she looks deeply into her eyes.

Seleana Zdunich: Sí, importa. Una es mi esposa. La otra no.

Crystal begins to speak in a thick Mexican accent.

Crystal Zdunich: Escuchame

She then changes it to a thick Swedish accent.

Crystal Zdunich: Lyssna på mig!

She then even changes it to French.

Crystal Zdunich: Écoutez-moi!

Before she finally begins to speak in English.

Crystal Zdunich: No matter what language I say it in, everyone needs to listen to me. Let’s be honest the real reason we all are out here today is because there are things we need to discuss and the main thing being Inception next month. I have gotten word from management of what the next match is going to be, and finally after waiting we are going to get the long awaited tag team match between Fire & Fury taking on Wildside, and this is apparently going to be at stake!

Crystal smirks as she holds the championship high into the air.

Crystal Zdunich: If I get pinned then it’s simple, whoever pins me will walk away with the World title. Zenna I personally don’t care about you and it doesn’t matter if you are my sponsor or not!

Crystal looks right into Seleana’s eyes as she nods her head.

Crystal Zdunich: But you are a DIFFERENT story. I can’t get you out of my head. You are the only thing that I want, you are the one I love, and I aim to get you back at all costs, but at the same time I know we have some issues to work out. One of them being that in every single match we have gone up against each other you have always managed to get the better of me and at Inception I will be looking to rectify that my love!

Seleana looks at her estranged wife, her gaze between looking through her and seemingly shocked by what she just said before the world. Zenna looks at both of them Maja still taken aback.

Zenna Zdunich: You should have said that a long time ago… and you?

She nods to Mercedes.

Zenna Zdunich: I do not know what you said in Sweden but whatever it was, you deserve a different level of beating for what you do.

Mercedes Vargas: Actually it was Spanish and I told you to SHUT UP. Do you want me to say it in multiple languages?! I would have thought that a washed up rock star would know it when people just don’t want anything to do with you. When it comes to Crystal and I we are forever changing the game. We are lasting the test of time and are always reinventing the script. What even warrants you being able to stand in the ring with the both of us?!

Zenna Zdunich: So, this when I have to say my career did not just start, ja? I have more experience than my sister. I have won tag team gold in several other companies. As for my guitar playing? Our youngest sister has always been better than me. But you can ask Christina if I can fight since we got arrested together in New Orleans for it. Aside from all that, I know you shut up five minutes ago. I was talking about what you said when my sister was refereeing your match in Sweden and she almost punched you for it.

Mercedes Vargas: You want to know what I said?!

Crystal Zdunich: Can this all wait for Inception?!

Mercedes shakes her head as she looks right at Zenna.

Zenna Zdunich: Fy fan!

Seleana shakes her head.

Seleana Zdunich: If you want her to understand, you need to say ¡Vete a la mierda! or ¡Chingate!

Mercedes Vargas: If you want to know what I said it’s simple… I told her that she is an awful wrestler, she is a terrible mother, and maybe her biggest fears are in fact truth and that Crystal… Or should I say CHRISTINA and I are… Well…. You know…

She cracks a wicked grin winking at Seleana. Seleana lets loose a primal scream and spears Mercedes out of her boots. Security rushes in to pull everybody apart. Zenna tries to pull her sister away but Crystal rushes towards Zenna and strikes her.

Crystal Zdunich: Get your damn hands off of my partner!

Crystal and Zenna begin to fight one another as Mercedes and Seleana keep fighting one another. Security is having a hard time separating everyone until they finally have both teams on a respective side of the ring. Crystal mouths off to Zenna and the redhead tells her to bring it. Crystal breaks loose and runs towards Zenna. She aims her Flashing Lights kick at Zenna who ducks underneath it and the kick crashes against the head of Seleana sending her to the ground. Crystal looks in shock as she stares down at her wife.

Mercedes Vargas:That a girl Crystal! That’s how you do it!

Crystal is stunned but Zenna in a rage grabs Crystal from behind and sends her crashing down to the mat with her Fatal Kiss (Glam Slam). Both members of the married couple are unconscious on the floor and security finally has a hold on things. Vargas pulls Crystal out of the ring while Zenna and Maja pull Seleana out. Mercedes and Zenna stare at one another as the members of Fire & Fury are forced to walk down the aisle and back towards the back.

The camera finds Pussy Willow outside the private dressing room of the World Heavyweight Champion, her knuckles rapping lightly on the door as the crowd buzzes in the background. After a beat, the door swings open and Helluva Bottom Carter steps into frame, championship belt draped over his shoulder, coffee in hand.

Pussy Willow: Carter, earlier tonight it was made official that at Inception VIII, January 11, 2026 in Las Vegas, you will defend the World Heavyweight Championship against Alexander Raven. Your thoughts now that the match is finally set?

HBCarter: My thoughts are that apparently theft is grounds for rewards now. Guy walks off with my title like he’s shopping without a wallet and the company’s answer is hey, let’s give him a main event in Vegas!

Pussy Willow: Some might say that by taking your championship, Alexander Raven proved he’s willing to do whatever it takes, that he got inside your head and forced this match to happen.

HBCarter: Oh, absolutely, master strategist. Why earn a shot beating people when you can just rummage through my things like a raccoon with eyeliner? He didn’t get in my head, Pussy, he got into my locker room. There’s a difference. One of those requires talent, the other requires a decent hiding spot!

Pussy Willow: Still, a lot of people are calling him dangerous heading into Inception VIII. Are you at all concerned about what he’s capable of on a big stage like Las Vegas?

HBCarter: Dangerous is cute. I wrestle dangerous all the time. I’ve bled for this title, I’ve flown for this title, I’ve had my neck compressed like an accordion for this title. Alexander Raven grabbed it off a hook and ran. One of us is a champion, the other is a shoplifter with a good tailor. Inception VIII, he doesn’t get to sneak up behind me or take anything when my back is turned. He has to stand across the ring, look me in the eye, and find out there’s a world of difference between carrying my belt and being worthy of it.

Pussy Willow: Final message for Alexander Raven as we head toward January 11 in Las Vegas?

HBCarter: Enjoy the photo ops while you can, Alex. Polish the plate, pose with your friends, pretend it’s really yours. Because when that bell rings at Inception VIII, I’m not coming to steal anything. I’m coming to take back what’s mine and make sure you never forget the night the thief got caught!

Carter shifts the championship higher on his shoulder, gives Pussy Willow a polite nod, and steps back into his dressing room as the camera lingers on the nameplate before fading out.

Simone: It’s Main Event Time folks and this us a rivalry that’s persisted for as long as these two women have been in SCW and tonight? They meet in non-title action! It’s the Bombshell Internet Champion Victoria Lyons against Alexandra Callaway!

Lunam: And what’s more? We have Victoria’s challenger at Inception VIII Harper Mason joining us on commentary!

Harper: Hey!

Simone: Harper, as Erick just mentioned? You are challenging Victoria for the title at Inception, meanwhile Alexandra is challenging the Bombshell Roulette Champion Alicia Lukas in a return match from High Stakes, thoughts?

Harper: You know my history with all three women, Alicia returned to SCW just to pick a fight with me and, of course, she ended my Roulette Title Reign back in September, Alexandra and I have faced off a few times and Victoria? Well, I’m the reason she’s a former Bombshell Roulette Champ and I want to make history repeat itself at Inception!

Lunam: Thoughts on this match!

Harper: It’s gonna be a war! Let’s take it to Justin!

Simone: THAT’S MY LINE!

Justin: LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THIS IS YOUR MAIN EVENT, SCHEDULED FOR ONE FALL AND IT IS A NON TITLE MATCH!

The arena lights dim as "Hey You" by Nova Rockafeller plays, and Victoria Lyons appears onstage, she has her "pet" Darian on a leash as they make their way to ringside, where Darian hops up to hold the ropes open for his queen, she makes her way to pose in the center of the ring, as Darian kneels beside her caressing her waist/thigh area. Once her music fades, she sends Darian to the corner and prepares for the match to start.

Justin: Introducing first, being accompanied by Darien, from Charlotte, North Carolina she is the reigning SCW Bombshell Internet Champion, “The Head Lyoness” VICTORIA LYONS!

Simone: Victoria’s celebration at the post High Stakes Climax Control was ruined by you Harper and now you’re her first challenger!

Harper: Eh! She ruined my plans to end Mercedes’ title reign at High Stakes, far as I’m concerned? That was an eye for an eye!

Lunam: Yeah but Victoria will be angry at you throughout this match as a result.

Harper: Let her, Alexandra will punish any distraction!

Justin: And her opponent!

The lights go down and "Cry Little Sister" by Lyric Noel starts to play. The arena is filled with Red and lights and fog. The Silhouette of Alexandra can be seen at the top of the ramp. She poses on the top of the ramp and as the beat drops, she starts to make her way down the ramp, towards the ring. Stopping halfway down the ramp, she stops looking out over the crowd, before continuing on. She smirks seeing some of the signs people made a cocky smirk crosses her face.

Justin: From DALLAS, TX.. ALEXANDRA CALAWAY!!!!!

Finishing her walk down the ramp, she climbs onto the ring apron and up onto the turnbuckle. She slips into the ring and poses on the ropes, leaning forward on the ropes, sometimes talking shit with people in front row. She watches up the ramp, messing with her hair as she waits for her opponent.

Simone: This is the third meeting between Alexandra and Victoria in SCW and once again? A title is involved!

Harper: Only this time it’s non-title! Victoria doesn’t have to worry about Alexandra ending her reign this time around!

Lunam: And the first time around? Victoria ended Alexandra’s Roulette Title Reign and kicked off her year long reign!

Jacob goes over the rules with both women before taking the title from Victoria and calling her the bell!

DING DING DING!

Simone: And the Main Event is on!

Lunam: Thoughts Harper?

Harper: Victoria would be wise to pay attention to Alexandra and not me!

Once the match begins Victoria manages to avoid glaring daggers at Harper long enough to start brawling with Alexandra in the middle o the ring while Jacob watches on, however Victoria’s anger at Harper gets the better of her as she swings wildly giving Alexandra a chance to duck behind the champ and score with a Bridging German Suplex! Jacob gets into position for the first pin of the match.

ONE!

TWO!

And Victoria kicks out!

Harper: What did I tell you? Victoria took her eyes off the prize for a second and Alexandra capitalized!

Simone: You are right, you can’t really afford to get distracted in a match against a veteran like Alexandra!

Lunam: And Victoria should know this given her own history with Alexandra but Victoria is clearly distracted!

Victoria rolls out of the ring to regroup/glare daggers at Harper and Alexandra goes to follow her to the outside but is stopped by Jacob! Darian rushes to his fiancé’s side to offer words of encouragement but Victoria is clearly having none of it.

Simone: Come to think of it, you had some choice words for Darian and Victoria’s relationship when you crashed their celebration, didn’t you Harper?

Harper: Belinda, I know I’m the youngest bombshell on the roster but can you honestly name a “love at first sight” relationship that’s worked out in the long run?

Lunam: …………….she’s not wrong!

Victoria evidently heard Harper’s comment but doesn’t get much of a chance to respond as Alexandra leaps off the ring apron and hits her with a running senton! Jacob restarts his count but it doesn’t even reach four before Alexandra rolls Victoria back into the ring and follows her in for another pin attempt!

ONE!

TWO!

And Victoria kicks out! At this point Darian gets on the ring apron and blatantly starts removing the turnbuckle padding in front of Jacob, distracting the ref long enough for Victoria to rake Alexandra’s eyes and score with a Brainbuster.

Harper: Damn, I’m out $20!

Simone: What do you mean?

Harper: Me and Cass had a bet going on how long it would take Darian to interfere, she bet ASAP, I bet not until the end of the match.

Lunam: How much did Cass bet?

Harper: $15.

Victoria floats over into a pin!

ONE!

TWO!

And Alexandra kicks out, even so? Victoria doesn’t let up, locking in a STF on Alexandra in the middle of the ring and Jacob gets into position to check on the submission and see if Alexandra is ready to submit, Alexandra refuses and starts crawling over to the ring ropes to try to break the hold! Darian for his part tries to pull the ring rope away from Alexandra’s grasp but Jacob catches him and gives him a stern warning, giving Alexandra enough time to get the Rope Break!

Harper: Sadly we didn’t have a bet on how many times Darian would try to help Victoria!

Simone: At this rate he’s going to get kicked out!

Lunam: Which would be good news for Alexandra!

Victoria drags Alexandra back to the centre of the ring and goes for another pin attempt!

ONE!

TWO!

And Alexandra kicks out! Victoria shakes her head and goes to pick up Alexandra only to get surprised by a Small Package!

ONE!

Harper: This definitely isn’t the first time Victoria’s been surprised with a small package since she met Darian!

Simone: HARPER!!!!!!!!!!

TWO!

Harper: What? I meant the wrestling move!

Lunam: And I’m the Dalai Liama!

And Victoria kicks out!

Simone: Well, regardless of what Harper meant? Alexandra has Victoria on the backfoot again!

Harper: I honestly meant the wrestling move!

Lunam: And no one’s believing you!

Alexandra looks to capitalize on Victoria’s loss of momentum by throwing punches at Victoria, however at one point Victoria claims that Alexandra used a closed fist in their brawl and Jacob stops to reprimand Alexandra, Darian then slides a chair to Victoria before blatantly sliding into the ring with a chair in hand! Jacob can practically be heard thinking “for fuck’s sake” as he intervenes but while his back is turned Victoria slams the chair against the mat, tosses it into Alexandra’s hands and dops like she was shot!

Simone: That’s one of the oldest tricks in the book!

Harper: And if Jacob falls for it I’ll be shocked!

Lunam: You and me both!

Alexandra insists on her innocence after dropping the chair, pointing to Victoria the whole time while Victoria stops pretending every few seconds to mockingly wave the Texan goodbye, unfortunately for Victoria? She eventually gets caught doing just that and gets a harsh reprimand from Jacob! Alexandra, her name cleared, picks up Victoria and lets her up for the Angels Wings but Victoria counters it into a Northern Lights Suplex with a bridge!

ONE!

TWO!

And Alexandra kicks out! Alexandra rolls out of the ring and at this point Darian grabs the Bombshell Internet Title clearly planning something nefarious while Victoria keeps Jacob distracted.

Simone: What does Darian have in mind?

Lunam: Nothing good for Alexandra but everything good for Victoria!

Harper: Would be a shame if someone did something about this!

Simone: Wait, Harper, where are you going?

Darian charges………….and trips as his leash goes taught! He looks up and realizes that Harper has ger hand on his leash! Alexandra sees this and gives her a thumbs up before returning to the ring while Harper ties Darian’s leash around the turnbuckle and takes the title! Back in the ring Victoria is setting Alexandra up for her version of the Lyons Roar until he hears Darian’s yelps and sees Harper with the title!

Simone: Wait, is Harper going to steal the title?!

Lunam: She’s had to have heard about the fines Alexander Raven’s endured since he stole the World Heavyweight Title from HB Carter!

Victoria has some VERY choice words for Harper but only gets a few of them out before Alexandra hits her with a Last Ride Powerbomb!

Simone: APOCALYPSE ON VICTORIA!

Lunam: Can Victoria kick out?

Alexandra goes for the pin!

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!!!

DING DING DING!

Justin: HERE’S YOUR WINNER, ALEXANDRA CALLAWAY!

Simone: ALEXANDRA JUST PINNED VICTORIA LYONS!

Lunam: HARPER DIDN’T EVEN NEED TO BE DIRECTLY INVOLVED, SHE JUST NEEDED TO PROVIDE THE DISTRACTION!

Alexandra retreats up the ramp where Harper meets her, the two women share a fist bump before Harper lays the Bombshell Internet Title across the ramp in full view of Victoria as the champ seethes.

Simone: What a statement made here tonight by Alexandra Callaway and Harper Mason

Lunam: Aye, Victoria Lyons is gonna be sore in the mornin after that, but she’ll not be forgettin this night in a hurry

Simone: Fans, that is all the time we have for tonight

Simone: Be sure to join us next week when Sin City Wrestling rolls into Boulder, Colorado, live from the CU Events Center

Lunam: Ye won’t want ta miss it, folks, we’ll have all yer favorites throwin down and tryin ta steal the show in the Rockies

Simone: For my broadcast partner Erik Lunam, I’m Belinda Simone, thanking you for spending your night with us

Lunam: Thanks a million for watchin, travel safe, and we’ll see ye next week in Boulder

The last image is Victoria Lyons seething in the ring as Harper’s Bombshell Internet Title rests on the ramp and Alexandra stands on the stage, raising her arms in victory. The Sin City Wrestling logo pulses in the corner of the screen as the arena lights dim, and the picture slowly fades to black before cutting out completely.

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!