A cold Nevada night hangs over downtown Reno, but the energy outside the Reno Events Center is anything but chilly. Spotlights sweep across the building’s glass and steel while the marquee glows bright, and a steady stream of fans, some in SCW shirts, some in homemade signs, a few already chanting, file through the doors with that giddy, restless buzz that only a live show can spark.
The camera cuts inside.
Panning shots glide across a packed house, sections on their feet, hands in the air, signs bouncing above heads, people leaning over the rail just to be closer to the action. The crowd surges in waves, cheers, whistles, the kind of roar that rattles the lighting rigs and makes the whole venue feel like it’s breathing.
Down at ringside, the lens finds the six-sided ring, sharp angles, bright ropes, and a canvas so clean it almost looks untouched for half a second until the fans’ noise makes it feel like it’s vibrating. The ring crew finishes a last check at the corner while the camera circles, showing off the unique shape like a centerpiece in a museum that’s about to become a battleground.
And then, the center of the ring.
Justin Decent stands tall with a microphone in hand, soaking in the reaction like it’s sunlight. He’s dressed to be seen, sleek, fitted, and unapologetically bold: a tailored, open-front jacket that shows off his chest and collarbone, paired with snug black pants and boots that catch the light when he shifts his stance. It’s polished, it’s provocative, and it’s absolutely intentional, equal parts ring official and runway tease.
Justin: Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Reno!
The crowd pops hard at the shout-out, a fresh wave of cheers rolling through the arena.
Justin: Welcome to the Reno Events Center, and welcome to the first edition of Climax Control for 2026!
Another roar—louder, sharper—like the building just agreed to be a little less stable tonight.
Justin: And since no proper night of SCW chaos begins without her, please welcome SCW’s hostess with the mostess, Miss Amanda Hugginkiss!
Music hits, and the camera snaps to the stage as Amanda Hugginkiss steps out into the lights. She doesn’t rush—she arrives—taking her time in a way that makes it clear she knows exactly what she’s doing. She’s all confidence and sparkle, greeting the crowd with a radiant grin and a little flourish of her hand as the cheers pour over her.
Amanda: Reno, Nevada, hello gorgeous!
The crowd answers loudly, swelling in volume like they’ve been waiting all day to yell back at her.
Amanda: Look at you! Absolutely packed in here tonight. I love it. I love the energy. I love the noise. I love that half of you look like you sprinted here the second you heard the doors opened. And the other half of you look like you were already here, which honestly explains so much about Reno.
Big laughter and cheers ripple through the building. Amanda strolls a few steps across the stage, scanning the front row like she’s shopping for trouble.
Amanda: Oh, hello. Front row. Sir.
The camera catches the man she’s spotted: handsome, older, confident grin like he’s been waiting for this moment his whole life. Amanda points at him with delighted approval, like she just found a diamond in a sea of chaos.
Amanda: Yes, you. Look at you, sitting there like you own the building.
The crowd woos, and a few fans clap like they’re supporting a romance subplot they just invented on the spot.
Amanda: You’ve got that ‘I know the best steakhouse in town and I’m not telling anyone’ face.
More laughter. Amanda fans herself dramatically, shoulders rising with an exaggerated breath like she’s trying to survive her own flirtation.
Amanda: I’m not saying I’m distracted, Justin… but I am saying if this show runs long, it’s because I’m negotiating dinner plans.
The crowd erupts—cheers, whistles, a couple playful chants that get drowned out by the general frenzy. Amanda turns her attention a few seats over, her expression shifting into gleeful menace as she points to another fan.
Amanda: And you, oh my god. Sweetheart. That outfit is … a choice.
The audience bursts into laughter before she even finishes, like they saw it too and were just waiting for permission to be mean.
Amanda: You look like you lost a bet at a gas station and decided to commit to the bit.
Huge pop. The fan throws their hands up, laughing along, while the people around them lose it. Amanda nods approvingly, like she’s handing out a crown made of pure disrespect.
Amanda: I respect the confidence. I fear it. But I respect it.
She takes in the roaring crowd again, letting the noise swell and breathe, then brings the mic close with a grin that promises something big.
Amanda: Alright, Reno. Enough flirting, enough roasting, let’s begin this properly.
She pauses, eyes gleaming, savoring the anticipation like it’s dessert.
Amanda: Because it is time… for a song.
And the shot holds on her at center stage, lights bright, crowd buzzing, right as the music begins to play.
Amanda: Alright, babies, this one’s for anyone who’s ever said,
“I can fix him.”
And then immediately needed a snack and a therapist.
He walked in like a warning sign, wearing too much cologne,
Smiling like a parking ticket somebody left in my zone.
His hair was giving “midlife crisis,” his jeans were giving “why,”
But I said, “Maybe I’m the problem,” and I winked my common sense goodbye.
He asked me what I did for work, I said, “I’m art, I’m a show,”
He said, “I’ve got a podcast.” I said, “That’s… wonderful, no.”
Then he told me ‘bout his exes, how they all were “kinda crazy,”
And I thought, “Girl, run.” But my lashes said, “Let’s get lazy.”
So I whispered to my bestie, “If I vanish, call the law,”
She said, “Fine, but first take pictures, make it worth the trauma.”
Kiss him with your eyes closed, honey, like it’s a magic trick,
If you open them too early, you might see the red flags stick.
Kiss him with your eyes closed, like the lights are way too bright,
‘Cause sometimes love is easier when you don’t verify the sight.
He said he “loves adventure,” then complained about the stairs,
He said he “hates drama,” then texted me three paragraphs.
He said, “I’m really spiritual,” then asked me for my sign,
I said, “Stop.” He said, “No, like, your zodiac.” I said, “Decline.”
He tried to buy me dinner with a coupon and a dream,
Ordered water with a lemon like he’s running a whole scheme.
Then he winked and said, “I’m different.” I said, “Baby, so am I,
I’m different in the sense that I can spot a lie.”
He said, “I’m not like other guys,” I said, “That’s what they all say,”
Then he asked if I “believe in fate,” and I said, “Only as a warning label, okay?”
Kiss him with your eyes closed, honey, like it’s a magic trick,
If you open them too early, you might see the red flags stick.
Kiss him with your eyes closed, like the lights are way too bright,
‘Cause sometimes love is easier when you don’t verify the sight.
Now listen,
If he says “My phone was acting weird,” that’s not a glitch.
That’s a lifestyle.
If he says “I’m just brutally honest,” that’s not honesty.
That’s an untrained mouth with a confidence problem.
And if he says “I’m an entrepreneur,”
Ask him what he sells.
If he says “vibes,” run.
He said, “You’re so intimidating,” I said, “No, I’m just aware,”
He said, “Can we take it slow?” while already touching my hair.
He called me “high maintenance,” like it was an insult, please,
Sir, I’m a limited edition, you’re a clearance rack with fleas.
So I smiled real sweetly, like a queen who knows the score,
And I left him with a lesson and a lipstick print on the door.
Now he’s texting me “I miss you,” like I’m some kind of regret,
Baby, I’m the consequence… and you haven’t paid the debt.
Final Chorus (key change, extra ridiculous)
Kiss him with your eyes closed, honey, if you must, if you dare,
But keep one hand on your purse and one on your exit stair.
Kiss him with your eyes closed, then open them when you’re free,
‘Cause the best part of bad decisions is escaping dramatically.
And if you learned anything tonight…
It’s that love is blind,
But it shouldn’t be stupid.
The arena erupts when Amanda finishes—cheers crashing together with sharp applause, whistles, and a few delighted shouts from the front rows. She beams, does an exaggerated little curtsy like she’s accepting an award she definitely deserves, then blows kisses in every direction like she’s handing out tips to the entire building. With one last wink, she pivots and slips behind the curtains, vanishing backstage as the lights on the stage dim.
The camera cuts to ringside. Belinda Simone and Erik Lunam sit poised at the broadcast table, headsets on, monitors glowing in front of them, the six-sided ring looming just over their shoulders as the crowd continues to rumble with anticipation.
Simone: Welcome back, everyone, to Reno, Nevada! Live from the Reno Events Center, and this place is already electric!
Lunam: Ye can feel it in the air, Belinda. The fans are loud, the ring is ready, and SCW is kicking off 2026’s first Climax Control with momentum that’s only going to build from here.
Simone: Because tonight isn’t just another stop—it’s the beginning of the Road to Blaze of Glory XV. Every match, every moment, every win and loss from here on out… it all starts stacking up.
Lunam: And with that in mind, we do have one unfortunate update before we get into the action. The scheduled match between Twisted Sister and Amelia Reynolds has been postponed tonight due to travel issues.
Simone: It’s not what anyone wanted to hear, especially the fans who came ready for it, but that’s the reality sometimes. Safety and logistics matter, and the important thing is we’ll get that match when it can happen the right way.
Lunam: Exactly. And for anyone worried that means the night slows down, don’t. Not even close. We still have big matches on deck this week, and this crowd is ready to explode the second the first bell rings.
Simone: Reno came to make noise, and SCW came to give them a reason.
Lunam: And what a way to kick off the night, Belinda because our opening match is going to have the Reno Events Center on its feet. Zenna Zdunich makes a rare appearance in singles competition, and she’s not easing back into it either! She’s stepping straight into the fire against the wicked Bea Barnhart in a Bombshell Internet Qualifier match! This isn’t just about bragging rights, it’s about position because the winner advances to compete for the chance at a championship opportunity at Blaze of Glory XV! One match to set the tone, one win to keep the dream alive, and two women who are absolutely not interested in backing down!
Simone: And if you think the intensity stops there, think again because coming up next, we’ve got a collision that’s been brewing since Inception VIII. Brandon Hendrix returned in absolutely brutal fashion with that completely unprovoked attack on LJ Kasey, and it sent a message that he’s not here to play nice, he’s here to hurt people. But tonight, he can’t ambush anyone from the shadows, tonight he has to walk down that ramp and meet his opponent face to face, because across the ring from him stands ‘Celtic Thunder’ Ciaran Doyle. Doyle is proud, tough, and fearless, and if Hendrix is looking to prove his vicious comeback wasn’t a one-off, he picked the wrong man to test it on.
Lunam: And then, Belinda, we get to a match that still has the entire Bombshell division boiling because at Inception VIII, Mercedes Vargas didn’t just shock the world, she betrayed it. She turned on her tag team partner and friend, the reigning World Champion Crystal Zdunich, and stole the championship belt in the process. Mercedes is still walking around with that title in her possession like it belongs to her, but tonight she’s got a problem: Harper Mason. Harper is hungry, fearless, and eager to make a statement, and there is no bigger statement than taking down the woman who’s been parading around with a stolen crown. Mercedes may have the belt, but she doesn’t have the security and Harper Mason is the kind of young competitor who can turn that insecurity into a very bad night.
Simone: And still to come tonight, Reno, we’re talking about a real measuring-stick match because the Party Boy of SCW, Ryan Keys, has his eyes set firmly on championship glory at Blaze of Glory XV. But if he wants to prove he’s ready for that spotlight, he has to get through a very real problem first: the brand new Internet Champion, Alex Jones, in non-title action. Jones has been riding that title win like a personal victory lap, and he’s been loud about it, especially with the ongoing rivalry still burning between Alex and the former champion, Miles Kasey. That bad blood hasn’t cooled off for a second, and you can bet it’s hovering over everything Jones does. Ryan Keys wants momentum, Jones wants to prove he’s the standard now, and with Miles Kasey’s shadow still hanging over that championship scene, this one could get explosive fast.
Lunam: And then we get to our main event, and Belinda, this one has ‘statement’ written all over it because Bella Madison is aching to claw her way back into the championship scene, and tonight she gets her answer in an Internet Qualifier match with everything on the line. But there’s no easy path, no warm-up, no tune-up… because if Bella wants to advance, she has to go straight through the champion herself. Victoria Lyons steps into this non-title match with that cold, confident edge of someone who believes the division belongs to her, and she’d love nothing more than to slam the door on Bella’s comeback before it even gets going. Bella’s fighting for momentum and opportunity, Victoria’s fighting to remind everyone why she’s champion and when those motivations collide, Reno is going to feel it.
Simone: All this and more on SCW Climax Control!
The scene opens backstage at Climax Control where we see the new SCW Roulette Champion Logan Hunter marching through the halls while carrying a young woman over his shoulder, said woman is actively kicking and punching away at the taller man.
Brooke: PUT! ME! DOWN!
Logan: NOT UNTIL I FIND HER!
Brooke: I’M NOT APOLOGIZING FOR THE HIGH STAKES INCIDENT!
Logan: YES! YOU ARE!
Lunam: That could honestly be anyone…………..
Brooke: PUH-LEASE tell me you’re joking?!
Lunam: Never mind, it’s Brooke.
Brooke’s older twin sister Marissa is walking behind them, carrying the title for Logan and a massive grin on her face.
Marissa: Oh this is priceless!
Brooke: SHUT UP SIS!
Logan: Found her! PUSSY!
The camera pans over to SCW Interviewer Pussy Willow who was shoved by Brooke at High Stakes thus starting the humiliation saga, she looks up as Logan sets down Brooke.
Brooke: I don’t care what you say Logan, I’m not saying it!
Logan: You apologize right now or WE! ARE! DONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Simone: WHOA!
Lunam: What the hell brough this on?!
Even Marissa is shocked at the ultimatum as Brooke (for once) is left speechless.
Brooke: You wouldn’t!
Logan: TEST ME!
Brooke finally concedes and turns to Pussy.
Brooke: I’m sorry.
Logan: LIKE YOU MEAN IT!
Brooke lets out an aggravated sigh.
Brooke: FINE! I’m sorry I shoved you at High Stakes!
Pussy Willow: Was that so hard!
Brooke: Shut up!
At that exact moment? Evelyn steps into view, clearly enjoying this immensely.
Evelyn: Excellent! Your probation period is over Logan!
Logan: Thank you!
If Brooke had rolled her eyes any harder as Evelyn walked off? She’d be able to see the inside of her skull.
Pussy Willow: So what brought this about?
Logan: EVELYN WAS GOING TO HAVE ME DRESS IN DRAG AND JOIN AMANDA FOR THE OPENING SONG!
Pussy shudders before walking off as the scene fades.
There is a knock on the door of the dressing room that has been assigned to Bea Barnhart. Bea answers the door and we see an assigned camera person has arrived to air her pre-match comments. Bill, along with their English Bulldog, Iris, walk up and stand next to Bea and Bea invites the camera person to come in and set up their camera so she can present some pre-match comments. Once the camera person is set up and they inform Bea they are ready to air her pre-match comments Bea takes a seat on the couch while Bill and Iris remain off to the side and out of camera range.
Bea: I wish to thank everyone who is tuned in to hear my comments leading up to my match against Zennz Zdunich to open Climax Control 446. I am glad to be in the opening match because my performance against Zenna will set the tone for the entire Climax Control event.
Bea holds one finger up.
Bea: I am sure Zenna, just like all the other Bombshells in Sin City Wrestling, is over-confident as she, like the others in Sin City Wrestling, feel they are better than everyone else on the Roster. Sorry to burst your bubble Zenna but you are not going to win our match as I will be moving up to continue in my quest to be come the Bombshell Internet Champion.
Bea holds two fingers up this time.
Bea: I hope you are not already crying about the loss I will be handing to you shortly in our match. It is okay if you are crying about entering the match against me knowing damn well you are going to be defeated by me and leave our match as the loser. Not everyone can win all their matches and I assure you that you will lose this match to me.
Bea: For my third, and final, comment before we get into our match to open Climax Control tonight I want you to know, going into our match, that I will not have any sympathy for you. . .I will not have any compassion for you. . .I will not back down from you. . .but I will beat you down so hard that you may need a week to recover from the beating I am going to give you.
Bea informs the camera person that she is done with her comments leading up to her match and that the camera person can cut their camera feed now and the camera person cuts their camera feed and our screen goes dark.
Camera returns to the ring and referee Jacob Summers enters the ring
Justin: The following opening contest is scheduled for one fall! And it is a Bombshell Internet Qualifier! Introducing first! From Lawrenceville, Georgia… accompanied by “Bulldog” Bill Barnhart… BEA BARNHART!
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.
Simone: Bea Barnhart in a qualifier is like a shark smelling blood in the water. She’s got that mean streak that turns a match into a “lesson.”
Lunam: And she’s not alone, aye. Any time Bill Barnhart is lurkin’ at ringside, it’s like ye’ve got a second opponent ye can’t touch without consequences.
Justin: And her opponent! From New Orleans, Louisiana… ZENNA ZDUNICH!
The opening guitars of "Freeky People" by Kidneythieves hits. The lights start flashing red and purple as Zenna makes her way out to the ramp pulling the devils horns above her head. She smirks at the crowd before she runs down and slides into the ring and sits on her knees, savoring the sounds of appreciation from the crowd. She climbs up onto the top rope and pulls the horns in front of her face while her tongue hangs out and she yells like she's at a rock concert before she jumps off awaiting her opponent.
Simone: Listen to this crowd! Zenna gets people moving. All gas, all heart, and about a thousand ways to take your head off from the air.
Lunam: Aye, but that style is risky against someone like Bea, so it is. Zenna lives above the ropes, and Bea lives in the blind spots of the rules, like a fox in the hedgerow.
Justin steps out of the ring and Jacob calls for the bell!
DING DING DING!
Zenna shoots out of her corner with a quick bounce on the balls of her feet, hands up and ready, while Bea angles sideways, shoulder dipped, grin crooked, chin tucked like she’s sizing up prey rather than an opponent. They circle. Zenna feints a collar-and-elbow, then pivots into a lightning-quick arm drag attempt, looking to put Bea on her back early and set the tempo. Bea plants her boots, yanks Zenna by the wrist, and tries to whip her into the corner, Zenna reverses, sends Bea in and charges with a running dropkick aimed at the chest. Bea sidesteps at the last possible heartbeat, and Zenna’s boots smack turnbuckles as she catches herself on the ropes to keep from eating the pad.
Simone: Zenna almost got that opening burst, but Bea’s too cagey. She just let Zenna run into the problem.
Lunam: That’s the trap of it, aye, Zenna wants momentum, and Bea wants friction. She’ll drag the whole thing down into the muck if ye let her.
Bea darts forward and blasts Zenna with a sharp forearm across the collarbone, more a brawl than a strike, then follows with a short, rude knee shot to the thigh that thuds and folds Zenna’s base. Zenna grimaces, trying to hop away, but Bea snatches a handful of hair and yanks her down like she’s pulling a bell rope, driving Zenna face-first to the mat. Jacob Summers is instantly on top of it, crouched and warning, but Bea’s already transitioned into a stomp, then another, grinding her boot across Zenna’s shoulder as if she’s erasing chalk.
Simone: Hair pulling already, Bea’s not wasting time pretending she’s here to wrestle pretty.
Lunam: Zenna’s got to make space, girl, ’cause Bea is strongest when she’s chest-to-chest, ugly as sin, and mean with it.
Zenna scrambles to hands and knees, trying to slide under the bottom rope to breathe, but Bea lunges, hooks her around the waist, and drags her back into the ring like she’s reeling in a fish. Bea hauls Zenna upright and snaps an atomic drop, thrusting Zenna down onto her knee with a sickening jolt. Zenna lurches forward, clutching at her lower back, and Bea capitalizes with a clothesline that turns Zenna inside out and sends her spinning to the canvas. Bea doesn’t even bother to admire it. She points at Zenna like she’s scolding a child, then drops a knee across Zenna’s ribs, hard, followed by another knee drop, this time aimed nearer the sternum. Zenna’s breath kicks out in a harsh burst. Bea drags Zenna by the arm, twists it, and slams it down, stepping over to torque the shoulder, then raises her head to the crowd with a smug shrug as if to say What did you expect?
Lunam: Bea’s dissectin’ her, aye. Thigh, back, ribs, arm, she’s drawin’ a wee map to pain right on Zenna’s body.
Simone: And Zenna’s aerial offense needs a foundation. You take the legs, you take the lift-off. You take the ribs, you take the breath.
Zenna tries to swing up with a desperation kick, but Bea stamps the leg and snaps a round kick up toward the side of Zenna’s head, Zenna barely ducks, feeling the wind of it. She rolls away and springs to her feet with pure adrenaline, firing a rapid pair of dropkicks, sending Barnhart tumbling one time right after the other! Zenna follows with a flying clothesline that finally takes Bea down, and the crowd surges with relief at the change of weather! Zenna doesn’t linger. She’s quick to the ropes, launches off and lands a sharp springboard moonsault across Bea’s torso, then hooks the leg!
ONE!
Bea kicks out with a violent shove!
Simone: There we go, Zenna needed that burst like oxygen.
Lunam: Aye, but Bea’s power is deceptive, so it is. That kickout wasn’t just survival, ’twas a warning shot across the bow.
Zenna tries to keep control, reaching for Bea’s arm to set something, maybe the Painkiller later, but Bea fights like a cornered animal, raking a hand through Zenna’s hair to yank her head sideways, then surging up with a suplex attempt. Zenna slips behind, cinches the waist, and snaps a reverse hurricaranna that flips Bea backward! Zenna points to the top rope with a grin, playing the audience like an instrument, then climbs, fast, smooth, a natural up high. Bea stirs beneath her, rolling and trying to find the ropes. Zenna leaps, aiming for a moonsault, but Bill Barnhart hops up onto the apron, arms wide, shouting and drawing Jacob’s attention with that “I’m not touching anybody!” innocence. Zenna hesitates a fraction, landing on the second rope instead of launching cleanly, and Bea uses the moment to rush the corner.
Simone: Bill Barnhart is not in the match, but he’s still involved in the match!
Lunam: Zenna had the flight plan, sure, but she got forced into turbulence, didn’t she? One wee distraction and the whole jump goes sideways.
Bea slams a forearm into Zenna’s lower back, then drives shoulder-first into the midsection, pinning her to the turnbuckles. Bea peppers in corner moves: a nasty knee shot to the abdomen, a grinding choke with the forearm across Zenna’s throat while Jacob counts and warns, and then a brutal whip, Zenna reverses mid-whip, but Bea catches her with a sudden elbow and whips her hard into the opposite corner anyway. Zenna hits the buckles and folds, and Bea charges with a running hip attack that jolts Zenna like a car crash, the impact knocking her sideways and down. Bea then begins choking her with both hands around the throat!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
FOUR!
Bea backs off at four with a smug smile, hands raised like she’s a saint.
Lunam: That hip attack, Bea’s favorite shortcut to stealin’ someone’s spine, aye. It’ll rattle the breath right out of ye.
Simone: And Zenna’s ribs are already battered. Getting the air knocked out of you is the fastest way to lose your timing.
Bea drags Zenna out from the corner, hooks her by the head, and yanks her toward the ropes. Zenna tries to plant her boots, but Bea forces her throat toward the top rope, then with a sudden, vicious spring, Bea grabs Zenna by the head and leaps over the top rope to the floor, snapping Zenna’s throat across the rope in the Dog Bite! Zenna’s body whiplashes back into the ring as Bea lands outside, boots thudding on the mat. Zenna coughs and clutches her throat, eyes watering, while the crowd showers Bea with boos!
Simone: Oh, come on! That’s the Dog Bite! Bea just tried to saw Zenna’s windpipe in half!
Lunam: Saints preserve us, when that top rope catches the throat, it’s like a steel cable. Zenna’s breath is gonna be dear to her now, and Bea knows it.
Bea slides back in, pounces, and hooks Zenna up for a snap suplex, this one crisp and mean, dumping Zenna flat on her back! Bea immediately follows with a knee drop, driving it across Zenna’s shoulder and neck area, and then another stomp for punctuation. She pulls Zenna up by the hair again, shoves her into the ropes, and when Zenna rebounds, Bea steps in and blasts her with the Hip Attack flush to the midsection, sending Zenna skidding across the mat like she’s been hit with a battering ram!
Bea covers again, smirking as she hooks the leg deep.
ONE!
TWO!
Zenna kicks out, but it’s weaker this time, more desperate than defiant.
Lunam: Ahh, that was close, aye. Zenna’s engine is sputterin’ now, she’s fightin’ through fog and pain.
Simone: She’s got to turn this into speed again before Bea decides to twist something and not let go.
Bea decides exactly that. She hauls Zenna toward the center and steps through the legs, teasing The Pretzel, the figure-four leglock. Zenna’s eyes widen and she claws at Bea’s boot, trying to prevent the turn. Bea slaps Zenna’s hands away and starts to rotate, but Zenna bucks and uses her hips to spin, kicking Bea off balance. Bea stumbles to a knee, and Zenna uses the opening to scramble to the ropes, pulling herself upright with a rough gasp. Bea charges and Zenna catches her with a drop toe hold that causes Bea to fall face and throat first across the center rope! Bea stumbles back and turns around and Zenna springboards off of the ropes and catches Barnhart with a flying bulldog!
Simone: Hitting Bea with a bulldog maneuver! That is a real slap in the face!
Bea staggers, hands flying to her face, and Zenna seizes the moment to spring off the ropes into a sliced-bread motion, Family Tradition, twisting and planting Bea down into a sitting edge-o-matic that bounces Bea’s spine off the canvas! The arena explodes!
Simone: FAMILY TRADITION! Zenna just drilled her!
Lunam: That’s one ye feel in yer bones, so it is, Bea’s posture just got rearranged like furniture in a storm.
Zenna hooks the leg quickly!
ONE!
TWO!
Bea kicks out again, but this time she rolls away, almost panicked, scooting toward the ropes to regroup. Zenna doesn’t chase immediately. She rises and fires the crowd up with the devil horns, then stalks Bea like a hunter on the rebound. Bea grabs the ropes with both hands but Zenna grabs her by both legs and brings her crashing back out into the center of the ring! Zenna then takes her by the legs and transitions into a Boston crab, sitting back to bend Bea’s spine! Bea squeals, reaching for the ropes, but Zenna drags her back toward center, trying to cinch it in deeper!
Simone: Zenna’s going to fold Bea if she sits back any further!
Lunam: Bea’s in trouble, aye, but look at Bill there, will ye? He’s sniffin’ for a moment, any moment at all, to tip the scales.
Bea claws her way forward, fingertips scraping canvas, inch by agonizing inch! Bea finally reaches the bottom rope and grabs it! Bea holds on but Zenna is reluctant to release the hold!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
FOUR!
Zenna releases at four, frustrated, pounding the mat once in annoyance before backing off. Zenna tries to reset, she grabs Bea’s arm and rolls through, looking for The Painkiller, the Fujiwara armbar. Bea reacts instantly, yanking her arm free and raking Zenna’s eyes just enough to break focus. Jacob shouts a warning, but Bea uses the distraction to slam a knee into Zenna’s stomach, then another to the ribs. Zenna doubles, and Bea flings Zenna to the mat and follows with a grinding choke using the bottom rope as leverage while Jacob again has to count her off!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
FOUR!
Bea breaks at four, then immediately stomps Zenna’s hand as she reaches up, drawing a sharp cry.
Simone: Bea is allergic to momentum that isn’t hers.
Lunam: Aye, Zenna’s heart is huge, but ye can’t out-heart someone if ye can’t breathe, and Bea’s makin’ sure of that.
Bea drags Zenna to the corner, rams her shoulder into the turnbuckle, and then peppers in corner offense: a clubbing forearm, a knee lift to the gut, and a nasty round kick to the side of Zenna’s head that makes Zenna slump. Bea steps back and charges in again, Zenna slips out at the last second, and Bea’s hip collides with the turnbuckle instead, jolting her! Zenna sees her window. She sprints, plants a foot on the middle rope, and springs backward into a clean Z-Sault, a corkscrew moonsault, crashing across Bea’s shoulders and chest. Zenna covers fast, hooking both legs, trying to steal it before Bea can reorient.
ONE!
TWO!
Bill Barnhart yanks Bea’s foot onto the bottom rope. Jacob immediately sees it and stops the count!
Simone: HE DID IT! Bill Barnhart just saved Bea!
Lunam: Ahh, that’s the cruel bit, isn’t it? Ye win, but the world says “not today,” and it slips through yer fingers.
Zenna pops up, furious, and leans over the ropes to shout at Bill. Jacob is still warning him, finger wagging. Zenna turns back and Bea lunges and cracks Zenna with a clothesline from behind, then yanks her up by the hair and throws her with a snap suplex, then rolls through into a cover, stacking Zenna and cinching the tights subtly!
ONE!
TWO!
Zenna kicks out, throwing Bea off and scrambling upright on instinct more than balance.
Lunam: Zenna’s survival instincts are unreal, aye, but she’s runnin’ on fumes now. Pure will and stubbornness, that’s what’s holdin’ her up.
Simone: And Bea’s getting more reckless, when the cheat didn’t work, she upgraded to violence.
Bea, annoyed, grabs Zenna and tries to set up The Pretzel again. She steps through, turns but Zenna fights like hell, kicking and twisting, rolling them both toward the ropes. Bea loses her base and spills forward. Zenna springs up, wobbly, but determined, and blasts Bea with a superkick that puts her down again! Zenna staggers to the corner and climbs, shaking her head like she’s clearing fog. The crowd rises, sensing the finish-line. Zenna gets to the top rope, steadies, throws the horns up one more time!
Simone: Zenna’s going airborne! If she lands this, it’s over!
Lunam: But she’s hurt, sure, and from up there, one wee mistake and gravity becomes Bea’s tag partner, so it does.
Zenna launches for a top rope moonsault, her body turning beautifully, but Bea rolls away at the last instant! Zenna crashes chest-first into the mat with a hollow, brutal thud that sucks the air out of the entire building. She curls on impact, clutching her ribs, face twisted in pain. Bea pushes to her knees, breathing hard, eyes glittering like she just found money on the sidewalk. Zenna tries to rise, stumbling up, one knee, then the other, shaking as she stands, turned slightly, disoriented from the landing! Bea explodes forward and hooks Zenna, driving her down with the Bea Bulldog in the center of the ring!
Simone: BEA BULLDOG! RIGHT ON THE BUTTON!
Lunam: Zenna missed, and Bea didn’t hesitate for a second, she pounced like it was instinct, aye. Cold as winter and twice as quick.
Bea sprawls over Zenna, hooking the leg tight, pressing her weight down, face snarling with triumph. Jacob Summers slides into position and slaps the mat!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
DING DING DING!
Justin: Here is your winner… BEA BARNHART!
Bea rolls off, sitting up with that smug, satisfied grin, while Bill Barnhart claps from ringside like he personally authored the ending. Zenna lies on her back, chest heaving, one arm across her ribs as she grimaces through the pain, close enough to victory to taste it, but punished for one airborne miss. Bea rises, throws her arms wide to the booing crowd, and points down at Zenna like a signature on a contract.
Simone: That’s the difference, right there, Zenna had the match won twice, but one mistake, one split-second, Bea lives for those moments!
Lunam: Zenna’s gonna replay that moonsault in her mind all night, sure. But Bea? She’s walkin’ out with the qualifier win, and she’ll call it “strategy,” the cheek of her!
LIVE! 03/08/2026! From Dickies Arena in Forth Worth, Texas!
It’s …..!!!
“Clouds” by NF plays on the sound system as Eddie Lyons appears on stage to a roaring ovation from the crowd as he makes his way down to the ring where he waits for the excitement to settle and gets a microphone.
Eddie Lyons: How is everyone doing tonight? Did everyone have a good holiday?
The crowd cheers.
Eddie Lyons: I had a wonderful holiday too, celebrated my daughter's first Christmas which was fantastic but now all the fun is over, and it's time to get back to work and it's time to get back to my goal of becoming the SCW World Champion. No more almost, this is the year I…
Before Eddie can get another word out he's interrupted by “Wretched and Divine.” by Black Veil Brides as the former Roulette Champion Vincent Lyons Jr comes out to disdain and jeers from the crowd and makes his way right into the ring, standing face to face with Eddie with a microphone of his own.
Vincent Lyons Jr: No. No. NO! You don't get another opportunity, not this time! If anybody from our family is going to be the SCW World champion it's going to be me! I am the dominant male in this family. Your time is done Eddie.
Eddie Lyons: Vincent chill, I'm not trying to be the dominant male of anything I'm just trying to be a fighter and trying to be a champion.
Vincent Lyons Jr: Chill!?? No! I'm tired of everybody looking at you like you're some leader in this family when we all know the true heir to the Lyons Den is me because it was my father who started everything. I should be the leader of this generation but they all look at you like you are.
Eddie Lyons: You're right Vincent, you should be the leader of the next generation of Lyon's Den Talent but the truth is they just don't like you and honestly, they don't feel safe around you. You need to take a good hard look at yourself and realize why they come to me instead of you.
Vincent Lyons Jr: How about I show them right now?
Vincent steps up and gets right in Eddie's face
Eddie Lyons: Vincent, you need to relax. I'm not going to fight you, You're family.
Vincent Lyons Jr: You sure you're not just afraid?
Eddie Lyons: Afraid? No I just have no reason to fight you. Truthfully if you want people's respect Vincent you have to earn it you don't get to just have it because of what our last name is I have earned every ounce of respect I have in this company and for better or worse so has your sister, but you come in and act entitled like you can do whatever you want to anybody without repercussion.
Vincent Lyons Jr: Who do you think you're talking to, little cousin?
Eddie Lyons: I thought I was talking to Vincent Lyons Jr, my big cousin. Someone I used to look up to, the first friend I ever had as a kid. But looking at you now I'm not even sure who you are anymore.
Vincent Lyons Jr: I am the rightful heir!
Eddie Lyons: Vincent, I've seen your recent cryptic tweets. This isn't an episode of Game of Thrones or succession, and I'm not trying to be the heir to anything I'm just trying to be Eddie Lyons. Maybe you should focus on getting back the Roulette Championship that you lost to Logan Hunter.
Vincent's eyes furrow and he gets in Eddie's face, they start jawjacking at each other. Before they can come to blows Eddie tries to be the bigger man and walk away when out of nowhere Vincent's eyes turn feral and low blows him from behind and starts laying in the boots.
Vincent quickly makes his way out and grabs a chair at ringside and sets it up around Eddie's leg.
Lunam: Oh no. Someone needs to stop this. Vincent that's your family!
Suddenly Victoria and Darian appear in the ring, Victoria steps in front of Vincent, stopping him in his tracks.
Simone: If Victoria is out here being the voice of reason then we really have problems.
Victoria pleads with Vincent but he doesn't listen and pushes past her and curbstomps down on the chair causing Eddie to scream in pain.
As Vincent looks down at him with a smirk, Victoria spins Vincent around and slaps him right across the face. He huffs up to her but she doesn't back down and meets his eyes and he slowly takes a few steps back as if he's leaving.
As soon as Victoria turns her back to go check on Eddie, Vincent charges at her from behind but…
Lunam: IT'S DARIAN!
Simone: Vincent was going to attack his sister from behind but her fiance intervened just in time.
Darian rolls out of the ring after taking the blow and Victoria turns around realizing what happened behind her as Eddie begins to stir, Vincent pushes his past Victoria knocking her over, and delivers a swift kick to the ribs of Eddie and begins stomping at his leg again.
Finally some officials come out and pull Vincent off, Victoria and Darian can only watch from ringside as the EMTs check on Eddie and some security officials drag Vincent backstage, eventually Eddie is helped to the back.
Lunam: Well I don't like the look of this at all, and I don't think it looks good for Eddie Lyons.
Simone: Vincent is out of control somebody needs to do something about him before he hurts somebody else.
After the chaos settles down, Victoria and Darian are the last to leave the ring area and Victoria can be seen calling to somebody on her cell phone.
Ciaran Doyle is backstage, sitting on a battered production crate with a roll of athletic tape, methodically wrapping his wrists, calm as a priest at confession. A dented kettle sits on a road case beside him, steaming away, and he’s humming an old folk tune under his breath while he tests the tightness, flexing his fingers like he’s measuring a promise.
Ciaran: Ahh, that’s it. Snug enough to do damage, loose enough to feel it. Grand.
He takes a slow sip from a chipped mug, strong tea, the kind that could stand a spoon up, and gives a quick nod to a passing stagehand like he’s been here a thousand years and will be here a thousand more.
Ms. Rocky Mountains: Ciarán Doyle, can I get a moment of your time?
Ciaran: A moment I can spare. Two, you’ll have to earn.
Ms. Rocky Mountains: Fair enough. Climax Control tonight, your upcoming match is against the returning Brandon Hendrix. What are your thoughts?
Ciaran barks out a short, ugly laugh, more breath than humor. He leans forward, elbows on knees, the tape creaking as he tightens his hands into fists.
Ciaran: Returning, is it? Aye. Some return, jumpin’ a man from behind like a coward in a dark lane. A smaller man at that. The cheek! Brandon thinks he’s big and bad ‘cause he reckons he can do to people what he did to LJ but all that proved is he’s a candy ass hidin’ behind that manager of his.
He stands, smooth and sudden, like a switchblade opening. He rolls his shoulders once, the tape bright against his knuckles, and the camera catches the look, hard, unimpressed, hungry for a straight-up fight.
Ciaran: Tell him if he wants to be remembered, he can try lookin’ me in the eyes when he swings.
Ciarán strides off down the corridor, tea left cooling on the road case like an afterthought, leaving Ms. Rocky Mountains watching him go because that wasn’t bravado. That was a warning.
Justin: This match is scheduled for one fall… introducing first…!
The arena lights drop into darkness with only a thin gold line glows across the stage. A hush ripples through the crowd. Then Antti Martikainen’s “Lords of Iron” erupts; deep drums, metallic Celtic strings, and a rising battle rhythm that shakes the air. On the very first swell of the melody, a spotlight snaps to life at the top of the ramp and Ciarán Doyle steps into it.
The crowd erupts instantly with cheers, signs waving, fans on their feet!
Justin: Making his way to the ring! From Killarney, County Kerry, Ireland! Weighing 167 pounds! He is the 'Dawnhart' Ciarán Doyle!
The introduction echoes as Ciarán begins his walk, the battle-charged rhythm matching the sway of his steps. He slips off the stage and moves down the ramp with a fluid, dancer’s glide, every motion smooth, confident, magnetic. Fans reach out and he meets them with touches of high fives, warm nods, quick smiles that light up his whole face.
At ringside he pauses, hands the nearest fan another white feather, then slides under the bottom rope with effortless grace. He rises in one fluid motion and heads straight for the corner, stepping onto the second turnbuckle. He spreads his arms as the camera catches his hair falling over his shoulder as he leans forward, inviting the crowd’s roar.
Ciarán hops down, runs a hand through his hair, and circles the ring with a focused calm settling in. The showman’s smile fades into a warrior’s readiness. He grips the top rope, testing its spring, body relaxed but poised, centered and prepared.
The music fades and Ciarán Doyle turns toward the center of the ring, eyes locked and expression sharpened, ready for the match to begin.
Justin: and his opponent….
Lightening strikes the stage and the smoke disappears as Brandon Hendrix stands in the middle of the stage, “Anger’s Remorse”, He stares out to the cheering crowd, pointing to them before looking back at the stage, then tosses his arms up, creating a white flame that shoots up from the stage.
Justin: AND HIS OPPONENT! FROM MILAN, ITALY RESIDING IN SAN ANTONIO, TEXAS! HE WEIGHS IN TONIGHT AT TWO HUNDRED AND SIXTY FIVE POUNDS! THE GOD OF HOPE!
BBBBRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNNNNNDDDDDDDDDOOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNN…..
FUCKING……
HHHHHHEEEEEEEENNNNNNNNDDDDDDRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIXXXXXXXXXX!!!!!!
Brandon starts walking down the ramp, a single light shining down on Hendrix. The fans have all turned their flashlights on their phones and hold their phones up. The entire arena is lit with lights and the fans wave their phones along to the song. Brandon continues his walk down the long ramp of where SCW is being taken place, thousand fans becoming Brandon's light in this battle with a his opponents being who they are. Brandon looks around, giving a slight nod to those who back him before he walks up the steel steps, wiping his feet before entering the ring. Brandon stares at his opponent, and acknowledges the war that is coming. He takes his jacket off and hands it to crew outside the ring. Brandon stands in his corner and tells his opponents to bring it.
The ref moves in and check both for weapons before indicating for the bell to be rung…
DING DING DING!
Hendrix and Doyle look across the ring from each other, as they take a moment before moving in and lock up in the centre of the ring, as Doyle tries to jockey for position but Hendrix being the bigger and stronger quickly overpowers Doyle and pushes him backwards into the corner and continues to push him and gets her arms up into Doyle’s face before the ref moves in to intervene, which Hendrix then slowly backs away from Doyle but he gets to a certain point and then goes for a wild swing towards Doyle but Doyle ducks and dodges with Hendrix now in the corner and Doyle turns and fires in a chop to the chest.
Simone: Quick lock up as Doyle tries to jockey but Hendrix being the bigger and stronger overpowers him and drives him into a corner. Once in the corner, the ref moves in and faces Hendrix back. Hendrix takes a step back before going for a wild swing but Doyle ducks and moves and fires in a chop to Hendrix’s chest.
Hendrix soaks it up and then glares at Doyle before grabbing him around the neck and throws him into the corner, where he proceeds to follow up with a boot to the stomach before following up with a punch, which Doyle drop down to the bottom rope, but Hendrix pulls him back up and hits another chop to the chest, which drops Doyle to the mat and he stays down as he catches his breath. Hendrix watches Doyle before approaching and as Doyle gets to his knees, Hendrix grabs one of Doyle’s hands and places it on the mat before stomping on it.
Lunam: Hendrix glares at him before grabbing him and throws him into the corner, he then follows it up with a boot and then a punch. Hendrix showing more intensity here as pulls Doyle back up and hits another chop to the chest, as Doyle quickly moves away from him.
Simone: Hendrix watches and follows him and then stomps unnecessarily on his hand.
Doyle pulls his hand away and pulls it close before quickly making his way to his feet and moves away from Hendrix and to the ropes and shakes his hand, but Hendrix moves after him again and he grabs Doyle by the hand and Irish whips him across the ring, which Doyle bounces off the ropes as Hendrix prepares to back body drop him, but is instead met with a kick to the chest from Doyle. Hendrix pops up and glares at Doyle before grabbing him and lifts him up onto his shoulder, but before Hendrix can do anything Doyle slips off his shoulder and drops behind him before firing in a kick to the thigh.
Lunam: Doyle again moves away before making his way to his feet, as Hendrix continues to follow him. He then Irish whips him across the ring and Doyle bounces off the ropes and hits Hendrix with a kick to the chest, which surprises him and Hendrix glares at him and grabs him and lifts him up onto his shoulders.
Simone: But Doyle slips free and fires in a couple of kicks to Hendrix’s thigh.
Hendrix cries out from the shot, as Doyle fires in another kick to the thigh, which Hendrix grimaces again, as he narrows his eyes and suddenly clotheslines Doyle down to the mat. Doyle stays down and rocked, as Hendrix rubs his thigh before turning back to Doyle and then stomps on his leg. Doyle rolls away but Hendrix merely follows him and stomps on his leg again, which Doyle quickly makes his way to his feet and hobbles away as Hendrix continues to stalk him, as Doyle moves to the corner.
Lunam: Hendrix flinches from the kicks but quickly fires back with a clothesline. He takes a moment before moving back to Doyle and stomps on him as Doyle gets back to his feet to avoid any more stomps.
However, this doesn’t help him as Hendrix pushes him up and fires in chop to the chest, which Doyle grimaces in pain, as takes a moment but its only brief and Hendrix grabs him and pulls him away from the ropes before dragging him and throwing him into a corner. Hendrix smirks, but that smile vanishes as Doyle rushes from the corner and hits a low dropkick to the knee of Hendrix and drops him to a knee. Doyle makes his way to his feet before quickly following up with a roundhouse crescent kick and catch Hendrix across the head.
Simone: Hendrix with another chop to the chest before sending him into another corner, but it doesn’t take Doyle out, who rushes from the corner and he hits a low dropkick before following up with a roundhouse crescent kick, which rocks Hendrix.
Hendrix drops sideways and Doyle pounces and goes for a pin…
ONE!
TWO!
Kickout
Hendrix kicks out, as Doyle shakes his head and then turns and rolls Hendrix onto his stomach, where he then locks in the koji clutch. Hendrix flings his arms about and kicks his legs around as he seeks a way out of the move, but he doesn’t submit, as Doyle squeezes a little tighter around the neck, as the ref asks Hendrix if he wants to submit but says no and begins to fade, which the ref notices and moves in closer before grabbing one of Hendrix’s free arms and lifts it once.
Lunam: Doyle with a pin, but Hendrix kicks out, but Doyle doesn’t allow Hendrix a second and he pounces and locks in a koji clutch.
Drops.
The ref lifts it again…
Simone: Hendrix doesn’t tap, but instead fades out, as the ref checks on him.
Drops.
Lunam: One more…
The ref takes his hand one more time but this time stays up and Hendrix begins kick his legs around, which moves him and Doyle and Hendrix manages to get to the ropes and gets a foot onto it. The ref indicates that Hendrix has a foot on the ropes, which Doyle releases and makes his way to his feet and before allowing Hendrix to recover, Doyle turns and leaps onto the ropes and hits a springboard legdrop across the back of Hendrix’s neck. He moves to his feet and grabs Hendrix by the foot and drags him from the ropes and goes for a pin…
Lunam: Doesn’t drop the third time and its stays up, as Hendrix begins to fight out of the move and gets a foot onto the ropes, which forces Doyle to release, but Doyle doesn’t give up and he grabs Hendrix and pulls him away from the ropes and hits a springboard legdrop and goes for a pin.
ONE!
TWO!
TH…kickout!
Hendrix gets a shoulder up, as Doyle moves back to his feet, where he grabs Hendrix and pulls him up and grabs his hand and Irish whips him into a corner, as Doyle then backs up and proceeds to go for a handspring back elbow, but Hendrix gets a knee up, which stops Doyle and Hendrix grabs a handful of hair before stepping from the corner, where he then begins to drive his face into the top turnbuckle over and over and over before releasing and spins Doyle around and drives his head forward into Doyle’s face.
Simone: Hendrix kicks out, as Doyle makes his way back to his feet and grabs Hendrix, where he sends him into the corner, where he looks for a handspring back elbow, but its blocked by a knee.
Lunam: Doyle is trouble here.
Doyle drops to a knee and holds his face and Hendrix grabs Doyle and places him between his knees and lifts him up and turns as he looks for a powerbomb, but Doyle drives an elbow into the top of Hendrix’s head, which Hendrix wobbles a little as he turns towards the ropes and stumbles forward as Doyle drives another elbow into Hendrix’s head and Hendrix grip wavers and Doyle drops down and then takes a step back before hitting a leg sweep which drops Hendrix and Doyle turns and leaps up for a standing moonsault but Hendrix gets his knees up.
Simone: Hendrix looks for a powerbomb, but Doyle drives a couple of elbow, into his head, which gives Doyle a chance, which he legs sweeps Hendrix to the mat and looks for a standing moonsault, but Hendrix gets his knees up.
Doyle collides with them and then rolls away, as Hendrix sits up and rubs his head before making his way to Doyle and grabs him by the hair and drags him up to his feet, where he drives a knee into Doyle’s stomach before pulling him back up and delivers a short arm clothesline before going for a pin…
Lunam: Doyle managed to come back briefly but he is back in trouble.
ONE!
TWO!
THR…
Kickout!
Doyle kicks out, as he tries again…
Simone: Doyle isn’t giving up.
ONE!
TWO!
Kickout!
Hendrix slaps the mat, as mounts Doyle and begins to wildly punch and slap Doyle over and over before climbing back to his feet, where grabs Doyle and pulls him up and then lifts him up onto his shoulders and then powerbombs him hard onto the mat. He then drags him up and throws him into the corner, where he fires in punches and kicks as the ref moves in and tries to pull Hendrix back but Hendrix shoves the ref away and goes back in and he drags Doyle from the corner and stomps on him before dropping down and fires in some more punch and slaps as the ref tries to stop him but he glares at the ref and shoves them away.
Lunam: Hendrix is angry and has snapped.
Simone: He flirting with DQ.
The ref shakes their head and indicates for the bell to be rung and then passes a message to ringside.
DING DING DING!
Justin: Brandon Hendrix has been disqualified therefore you winner of this match is Ciaran Doyle.
Lunam: And he flirted with it and has now been dq’d.
Hendrix continues his assault as Doyle’s music momentarily plays but stops as security comes from backstage, and Hendrix fires in a couple more shots before bailing from the ring, as the ref moves in and check on Doyle, as security keeps Hendrix back as he smiles.
WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP - ⅔ Falls
Helluva Bottom Carter © vs Alexander Raven
We cut to the backstage area where we see Cassie pacing back and forth having come off her win over Twisted Sister at Inception VIII.
Cassie: They tried to shut me up by putting me in a hardcore match with Kayla, not only didn’t it work but I took her to the limit even in defeat! Then they tried to shut me up by putting me against Twisted Sister in her playhouse.
Cassie scoffs.
Cassie: Didn’t work!
Cassie flips some hair over her shoulder.
Cassie: Believe me, I’m going to keep making my voice heard if it gets me where I need to be! Now, my partner in crime Harper is taking on Mercedes tonight and I wish her well, that said.
Cassie smirks.
Cassie: Tick tock, because the next time I get in the ring will be when I solidify myself heading into 2026!
Cassie walks off as the scene fades.
Simone: We’ve had a great night of accent tonight and……………..
Brooke: AHEM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Lunam: Oh god, it’s time for her victory parade!
Brooke steps out on stage with the mic in her hands, her in a ponytail? Check, crop top and denim shorts to show off her gorgeous body? Check, Brooke’s attitude? CHECK!
Brooke: Ladies, gentlemen and those who are in between, the time has come! Please welcome your new Roulette Champion, my boyfriend LOGAN HUNTER!
“Hope Castrated” by Cage Fight hits the speakers and Logan marches out with his title high above his head, Marissa is not far behind him.
Brooke: Oh and my older twin sister Marissa is here too!
Simone: She didn’t forget that Marissa’s also Logan’s manager, right?
Lunam: If you ask her, she’s the brains of the operation! And the beauty, and the brawn, and you get the idea!
The trio make their way down to the ring and they all enter the ring with Logan leading the charge, as the music dies down Brooke speaks up again.
Brooke: After MONTHS of injustice and conspiracy against me and my client the Roulette Title is finally back where it belongs, with us! Now, let’s relive the GLORIOUS MOMENT!
The titantron shows a flashback to Inception VIII’s Roulette Title Match between Logan and Vincent:
Vincent stumbles into Jacob, jostling the referee’s position. Jacob doesn’t fall, but he’s forced to reorient, eyes flicking to ringside where Brooke and Marissa are swarming the apron area.
The timer hits again. Another case opens.
Inside: brass knuckles.
Simone: Oh, you have got to be kidding me.
Lunam: Roulette just handed Logan Hunter the exact tool he’s infamous for.
Brooke doesn’t even need to be sneaky now. She points, Logan snatches the brass knuckles, and the crowd’s reaction turns ugly. Jacob is trying to keep eyes on the ring, keep order in disorder, but Vincent is turning back at the worst possible moment.
Logan cocks his arm.
RIGHT HAND OF GOD.
The punch detonates against Vincent’s jaw. Vincent drops instantly, folding to the mat like the lights shut off. The arena erupts with a chaotic mix of boos, shock, and that uncomfortable “we just watched it happen” noise.
Simone: He dropped him like a stone!
Lunam: That’s desperation becoming decisive.
Logan doesn’t pin immediately. He looks down at Vincent, chest heaving, eyes wide, then glances at the chair still waiting near center ring. He drags Vincent up by the arms, double underhook secured, and positions him with grim intention. Vincent’s hands twitch, trying to fight, trying to find balance. His legs betray him.
Logan lifts.
HOPE ENDS – double underhook impaler DDT – driving Vincent down onto the steel chair with a sickening impact. Vincent bounces and spills off the chair, limp and wrecked. Logan hooks the leg, pressing down with everything he has left.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!!
Justin: Here is your winner, and NEW SCW Roulette Champion, LOGAN HUNTER!
Logan sits up with the title handed into his grasp and he clutches it like proof that the last year wasn’t a fluke. Brooke slides in, stroking his shoulder and pointing him toward the hard cam as Marissa lingers at the ropes, grin gone now that the violence has fully swallowed the joke.
Simone: Logan said this championship was stolen from him. Tonight he tore it out of Vincent’s hands.
Lunam: And Vincent Lyons Jr. Unstable, proud, simmering, just got humiliated in the most public way possible. That is going to echo.
Logan stands over Vincent for a long beat, belt raised, then leans down close and mouths the words he promised. “I command thee, KNEEL!”
Then he turns and exits with Brooke at his side, the Roulette Championship held high, while Vincent remains on the mat, one hand slowly curling into the canvas, eyes open, jaw clenched, absorbing the loss like a toxin he’s going to make someone else drink later.
Once the flashback ends we see that Logan now has a mic.
Logan: I do that rather well, don’t you think?
Simone: Did her just quote Exorcist III?!
Lunam: I believe he did!
Logan makes a fist with his right hand.
Logan: With this hand I delivered divine justice and by my hand Vincent is no more! I have vanquished Christian’s favourite usurper and with no clowns to get in my way? I will reign supreme for it is the Divine Right of Kings!
Simone: How long until he starts calling himself a god?
Lunam: He wasn’t already?!
Brooke speaks up, deliberately hamming it up as she goes.
Brooke: And it’s all thanks to the greatest manager of all time! The seductress of sin, the mistress of mayhem, she who lusts for chaos, the crowner of kings and future Hall of Famer, ME! BROOKE SHIELDS!
Marissa rolls her eyes.
Marissa: You won manager of the year once.
Brooke: DUH! And I’ll win it again this year! I mean honestly what other manager has done what I have? Despayre? What? The Gummy Bear Guy! I love eating those!
Simone: She didn’t just say that?!
Lunam: Despayre hates it when Gummy Bears come to harm and he’s the secretary for the Go Gym!
Brooke: Aron? Fenris is washed up and you know it!
Marissa side eyes her younger sister but doesn’t say a word.
Brooke: Logan is the future and this title is just the beginning!
Logan: And to whoever steps up first? Woe to the Vanquished, for the lives of those foolish enough to think they can stand before me in my greatness shall not be mourned when they embrace oblivion!
“Hope Castrated” hits the speakers again and the trio leaves.
The scene opens backstage at Climax Control where we see Harper Mason preparing for her match against Mercedes Vargas as Josh watches on.
Harper: At Inception VIII I failed in my goal of taking the Bombshell Internet Title from Victoria Lyons, and now? I’m facing the woman she beat to win the title, Mercedes Vargas!
Joshua: Mercedes also fell short and that’s assuming that her goal was always to betray Crystal but tonight? Harper will bounce back!
Harper: This match will be how I bounce back from my loss to Victoria and who knows? Maybe I’ll find myself in title contention again!
Harper and Josh walk off as the scene fades.
Camera returns to the ring and referee Jacob Summers enters the ring.
Justin: The following contest is scheduled for one fall!
Suddenly, the arena lights turn off and the crowd is hyped up for what was in store. As the opening of "Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me, Kill Me" by U2 blares across the PA system, the mood of the crowd changes instantly and the arena is under the subtle glowing of the lights. As the lyrics finally kick in, a figure emerges; the highlight of their attire is being under the illusion. Mercedes Vargas stops short of the entrance ramp, hands on waist, and overlooking the crowd.
Justin: Making her way to the ring (or depending on where Mercedes is when the ring announcer begins the introduction, Coming down the aisle, About to enter the ring, or Currently in the ring), from Buenos Aires, Argentina, weighing in at 125 pounds, MERCEEEEEDEEEES VAAAARGAAAAS!
Cheers, boos and catcalls soon greet her. Oblivious and yet satisfied with their reaction for several seconds, she flips her long hair, then makes her way to the ring. As she goes up the steps and walks to the end of the ring apron, she climbs to the turnbuckle, then turns her head back as the camera shows her determined expression-perhaps a message that her opponent will be in for a tough fight. Mercedes vaults into the ring and walks over to the opposite corner where she relaxes along the corner ropes while waiting for her opponent(s) to arrive.
Simone: Mercedes Vargas looks like she owns the building, and honestly? She wants you to hate her for it.
Lunam: Ah now, she doesn’t just stroll out here, she arrives, right? And after all she’s pulled, stealin’ that World Championship belt, she’s fightin’ like consequences are for someone else entirely.
Jonathon Young’s cover of “New Divide” by Linkin Park hits the speakers and Harper emerges from the back throwing some kicks in the air to the opening beat as her manager Joshua Acquin watches on with approval, once the initial lyrics hit Harper does a spinning roundhouse kick before dropping to one knee and throwing up the Devil Horns.
Justin: Her opponent is from Orlando, Florida and being accompanied by Joshua Acquin, she is the “Slaytanic Avenger” HARPER MASON!
Once Harper hears her name called she jumps to her feet with a massive grin on her face, she sprints down to the ring clapping hands with the fans at ringside before she jumps into the ring and down a forward roll landing on her knees and grinning broadly, ready to throw down with her opponent, Josh applauds his charge from the outside as they wait her opponent.
Simone: Harper Mason has that “kick-first, ask-questions-never” energy, and it’s exactly what you need against someone like Vargas.
Lunam: Aye, and she’s got her coach at ringside, but don’t be fooled, Joshua Acquin can’t throw the strikes for her, like. Harper’s the one who has to survive all the dirty shortcuts.
Justin steps out of the ring and Jacob calls for the bell!
DING DING DING!
Mercedes doesn’t waste a second pretending this is a sporting contest, she slinks out of her corner and circles like a shark, chin tipped up, eyes locked on Harper like it’s already a trophy she’s decided belongs to her. Harper steps forward with her hands high, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet, throwing a couple of feints and quick chambered kicks in the air to test the distance. They meet in the center for a collar-and-elbow tie-up, but Mercedes immediately yanks Harper into a nasty arm wrench, pulling the wrist like she’s trying to pop the shoulder out of the socket. Harper grit-smiles through it, rolls, cartwheels, and snaps the arm drag clean, Mercedes skids to the mat and pops up more offended than hurt, while Harper points at her like, ‘Try that again’.
Simone: That’s the thing, Harper’s not naïve. She’s already showing she can match technique with technique.
Lunam: Mercedes is fumin’ when she doesn’t control every second of it, so she is. Watch her get meaner now, sure as night follows day.
Meaner is exactly what happens. Mercedes lunges back in and chops Harper with a short-arm knife-edge chop, then another, then another, each one echoing, each one a little lower, a little uglier, like she’s trying to knock the wind out of Harper’s rhythm. Harper fires back with a crisp taekwondo-style body kick that thuds into Mercedes’ ribs and forces her to take a step, then another kick higher toward the shoulder that snaps Mercedes’ head sideways. Mercedes staggers to the ropes, and Harper charges for a running corner clothesline, only Mercedes pivots at the last instant and trips Harper throat-first into the middle rope. Harper’s body springs up and snaps down, and before she can even clutch her throat, Mercedes hooks her and drops her spine-first across her knee in a vicious catapult backbreaker that folds Harper like a bad decision!
Simone: OHH, catapult backbreaker! Harper’s whole world just got bent in half!
Lunam: Mercedes doesn’t need momentum at all, she steals it, she does. Takes what you’re doin’ and turns it straight into pain, the nasty thing.
Mercedes drags Harper toward the corner by the wrist, but it turns into a hair yank the moment Jacob’s angle is wrong. Harper swats at her own scalp and tries to rise, and Mercedes plants a boot across Harper’s throat, leaning into the corner ropes with a smirk. Jacob storms in, arm extended, voice raised, starting the count as Mercedes actually mouths along, loudly, like she’s enjoying the math lesson.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
FOUR!
Mercedes: Uno! Dos! Tres! Cuatro!
At the last possible heartbeat, Mercedes finally lifts her foot and throws her hands up innocently.
Mercedes: I have until five!
Harper stumbles out of the corner coughing, one hand at her throat, and Mercedes snaps her down with a hair-pull over-the-shoulder snapmare that whips Harper to the mat! Harper tries to sit up on instinct, Mercedes glides behind her and drills a rolling necksnap, the kind that makes the head bounce! Mercedes doesn’t even go for a cover right away. She stands and circles Harper like she’s inspecting a purchase, punctuating each lap with stomps, sharp, deliberate, aimed at the ribs, the shoulder, the lower back, each stomp matched by a chorus of boos!
Simone: She’s not even trying to win fast, she’s trying to ruin her.
Lunam: That’s Mercedes Vargas all day long, she’ll take ten extra minutes, no bother, if it means you’ll remember the bruises for ten extra days after.
Harper fights up to a knee, shaking her head, and Mercedes seizes the opening for one of her nastier favorites, she threads her legs around Harper’s midsection from behind into a tight body scissors, compressing the ribs while she snakes an arm across Harper’s face into a dragon sleeper. Harper’s eyes widen immediately; you can see the panic flare and then settle into focus as she starts prying at Mercedes’ arm, trying to make space to breathe. Mercedes rolls with it, slick and practiced, shifting her grip as if she’s choosing which variation hurts the most, nearly turning it into a rolled-over pin before Harper manages to twist her hips, posting on one hand to keep her shoulders off the mat.
Jacob drops down, checking Harper’s shoulders and asking if she wants to give up. Harper shakes her head hard, and with a desperate burst she rocks back and forth until Mercedes’s grip loosens just enough. Still in the body scissors, Harper turns around onto her knees into the hold and stands - but she grabs two handfuls of Vargas’s hair to bring her up along for the ride! Harper then begins to spin around on her feet and lets go, sending Mercedes crashing to the mat! Harper then follows with a high roundhouse that clips Mercedes’ jaw and makes her crash land as quickly as she rose!
Simone: Harper’s firing back like a drumline, those kicks are cracking!
Lunam: But look at the eyes on Mercedes, she’s already thinkin’ of the cheapest way to stop the bleedin’, so she is!
Mercedes swings wildly for a discus clothesline, trying to take Harper’s head off and end the comeback in one hateful blur, but Harper ducks and hooks her waist into a quick backslide!
ONE!
TWO!
Mercedes kicks out with a furious twist and scrambles up, but Harper stays attached, hauling Mercedes into a fisherman’s suplex that arches clean and drops Mercedes flat on her back and shoulders, arching her back for the bridging pin!
ONE!
TWO!
Mercedes powers out, but she can’t hide the surprise, her smug mask cracks for half a second, and that half-second is all Harper needs. Harper grabs an arm and wrenches it, stepping through into a cross arm breaker attempt, trying to isolate the limb and force the tap! Mercedes immediately panics and struggles, bucking her legs and desperately reaching for the ropes! But she is caught in the center ring and is too far away! The veteran then opts to roll through the hold as best she can, folding Harper in half into a pin and Harper immediately releases her to keep from pinning herself! Harper rolls through to her feet but two handfuls of her hair sends her crashing to the back of her head!
Simone: Oh COME ON! That’s hair! That’s straight-up hair!
Lunam: Jacob’s right there, like, Mercedes is doin’ it just outside the cleanest line of sight. That’s veteran villainy, plain and simple.
Harper pushes up on trembling arms, trying to shake out her head, and Mercedes punishes her for existing, she runs the ropes and blasts Harper with a running low-angle dropkick right to the face that snaps Harper’s head back. Harper rolls toward the apron, trying to create space, and Mercedes follows, hooking Harper by the arm and neck as Harper rises. For a breath, you see Harper’s knees dipping, Mercedes uses that exact moment to flip forward into a front-flip facebuster, a somersault cutter that spikes Harper’s face and whiplashes her down! Mercedes stacks her for the pin with a smug bridge!
ONE!
TWO!
Harper kicks out, shoulder popping up with pure stubbornness, and Mercedes slaps the mat in anger like the canvas personally insulted her. She hauls Harper up by the wrist again, whips her hard into the corner, and charges with a running knee smash that catches Harper in the midsection. Harper folds, and Mercedes snaps her into position for a DDT, float-over style, driving Harper’s head down and rolling through with a smooth, practiced arrogance that says she could do this in her sleep. Mercedes hooks a leg tight!
ONE!
TWO!
Harper survives again, and now Mercedes is furious! She stands and drags Harper up by the hair, Jacob warns her, but Mercedes does that thing where she keeps moving while acting like she isn’t. Harper, fighting on instinct, lashes out with a sudden lariat that nearly decapitates Mercedes and flips the whole momentum like a switch! Mercedes stumbles to her feet and Harper follows with a springboard tornado DDT, driving Mercedes down so hard the ropes quiver!
Simone: TORNADO DDT! Harper just planted her! This could be it!
Lunam: Mercedes’ ego might’ve finally gone and landed her in trouble there, aye, that one rattled her proper.
Harper doesn’t waste time posing. She crawls into the cover, hooking the far leg, face pressed against Mercedes’ shoulder!
ONE!
TWO!
Mercedes kicks out! Harper sits back on her knees, breathing hard, then looks to the corner with decision. She climbs, step by step, shaking out her arms on the top rope as the crowd rises with her. From the top, Harper launches into a flying body press, aiming to flatten Mercedes and take her into a pin. Mercedes rolls at the last moment, Harper lands hard, the air leaving her lungs in a rough cough, and Mercedes pounces with predatory speed, hooking Harper into a jackknife cover!
ONE!
TWO!
Harper kicks out again, and Mercedes loses it. She yanks Harper up and slashes a pair of short-arm chops, then whips Harper to the ropes for that discus clothesline again, Harper ducks, rebounds, and cracks Mercedes with a dropkick that sends her reeling into the ropes nearest Joshua Acquin! Joshua leans forward, shouting encouragement, and Mercedes looks at him like she’s personally offended by the existence of support. Harper sprints in and slams Mercedes with a running corner clothesline as Mercedes tries to retreat. Harper follows with a suplex attempt out of the corner, Mercedes blocks, hooks Harper’s arm, and tries to spin her into La Magistral, attempting to trap Harper’s shoulders with a slick, twisting pin. Harper rolls through, pops up, and swings for another lariat, but Mercedes ducks and hooks Harper’s arm into an arm wrench, then a hook kick to the face!
Lunam: Tango for Two! Arm wrench, hook kick, right on the button, so it is!
Simone: Harper’s legs just betrayed her! She got rocked!
Harper drops to one knee, blinking, and Mercedes sees the exact posture she wants. She runs the ropes and comes in fast, aiming to finish with a superkick, Be Still My Heart, but Harper, on fumes, surges up and catches Mercedes with a sudden tilt-a-whirl back breaker the moment Mercedes commits! The crowd explodes as Mercedes gets dumped across Harper’s knee. Harper clutches her own ribs from earlier pain even as she does it, but she grits through and covers!
ONE!
TWO!
Mercedes barely kicks out, barely, and the frustration in Harper’s face is immediate. Harper tries to pull Mercedes into a rear naked choke but Mercedes claws forward like she’s escaping a fire, dragging herself toward the ropes. Harper switches, trying to sink it deeper, but Mercedes yanks herself free by grabbing Harper’s hair and snapping her face-first into the mat again! Jacob barks a warning, and Mercedes throws her hands up like she can’t believe the accusations!
Simone: Jacob Summers is doing everything he can, but Mercedes keeps finding angles.
Lunam: The heel’s greatest weapon is that wee bit of plausible deniability, like, and Mercedes has an arsenal of it.
Mercedes stumbles to her feet, shaking out her jaw, then points dramatically at Harper. She grabs her by the wrist and sets her up for an Irish whip but Harper reverses the attempt and sends her in instead! Mercedes runs into the ropes, catches her boot on the bottom strand, and trips!
Mercedes hits the mat and instantly starts shouting, pointing wildly at Joshua Acquin.
Mercedes: ¡Él! He did it! He tripped me!
Jacob rushes to the ropes, hands out, leaning over to confront Joshua, who throws his palms up in disbelief.
Joshua: I didn’t touch her! I didn’t even move!
Simone: Oh you have GOT to be kidding me, Mercedes just tripped on air and decided it’s Joshua’s fault!
Lunam: And Jacob turned his back for one second, just the one, and that’s all someone like Mercedes needs, so it is.
Behind Jacob’s back, Mercedes’ eyes go cold, no acting now, no performance, just a quick, dirty decision. She rolls to the corner, snatches up the stolen World title belt like it’s been waiting for this moment, and stalks Harper as Harper pushes up, still trying to figure out what’s happening at the ropes. Harper turns and Mercedes swings the belt like a hammer and clobbers Harper in the head! Harper crumples instantly, legs folding under her like someone unplugged her. Mercedes tosses the belt back out of the ring with a casual flick as Jacob finally turns around, hearing the impact too late to process it!
Lunam: NO! No, title belt shot! That’s scandalous altogether!
Simone: Jacob didn’t see it, he didn’t see it! He was arguing with Joshua!
Mercedes drops into the cover fast, hooking Harper’s leg deep, pressing her forearm across Harper’s face like a cruel punctuation mark. Jacob slides into position, sees the shoulders, and counts.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
DING DING DING!
Justin: Here is your winner… MERCEDES VARGAS!
Mercedes rolls off and rises with a wicked, satisfied smile, immediately pointing at Joshua again like she’s the victim of a conspiracy, while the crowd rains down boos. Joshua is screaming at Jacob from the floor, pointing at Harper’s head and miming the belt shot, but Jacob’s face is stuck in that awful place between certainty and doubt, he knows something’s wrong, he just can’t prove it from where he stood.
Simone: That is robbery, plain and simple. Harper Mason had this match within reach, and Mercedes Vargas, like always, found the darkest shortcut in the building.
Lunam: Harper fought with heart, with skill, with grit… and she gets repaid with a championship belt to the skull while the ref’s attention is stolen. Mercedes didn’t win ‘cause she was better, she won ‘cause she was willin’ to be worse.
ROULETTE CHAMPIONSHIP
Logan Hunter © vs Ryan Keys
The camera opens inside the office of SCW General Manager Evelyn Hall. The lighting is warm and even, the space neat—no chaos, no clutter, just the quiet kind of authority that doesn’t need to raise its voice to be heard. Evelyn sits behind her desk with her hands folded, posture composed. She offers a small, polite smile to the camera—calm, controlled, and entirely in command.
Evelyn Hall: Good evening, everyone. I hope you’re enjoying Climax Control so far.
She lets the words breathe for a beat, the smile fading into something more serious without ever becoming harsh.
Evelyn Hall: I’m here tonight to address two issues—both of which are deeply concerning to me, to SCW, and to everyone who expects this company to hold itself to a standard.
Evelyn’s gaze stays steady, voice measured—almost gentle, which somehow makes the message hit harder.
Evelyn Hall: First: the heinous attack at Inception VIII by Mercedes Vargas on Crystal Zdunich.
A brief pause. No dramatics. Just the kind of pause that says she’s choosing her next words carefully so there’s no misunderstanding.
Evelyn Hall: Crystal is currently in recovery. She has not been medically cleared to compete. Because of that, her scheduled title defense next week in California will be postponed. Not canceled—postponed.
Evelyn nods once, as if confirming it for herself and for the audience.
Evelyn Hall: Second: the theft of the World Bombshell Championship at the hands of Ms. Vargas.
She tilts her head slightly, still calm, still polite, yet there’s steel behind it now.
Evelyn Hall: Let me be perfectly clear. That championship does not belong in anyone’s bag, car, hotel room, or trophy case. It belongs here—under SCW’s authority—until Crystal Zdunich is cleared and we can proceed properly.
Evelyn leans forward just a fraction.
Evelyn Hall: So, effective immediately, I am ordering Mercedes Vargas to return the World Bombshell Championship next week. And she will return it to me—personally. In this office. In my hands.
She straightens, tone unwavering, like she’s reading terms of a contract that only has one outcome.
Evelyn Hall: If she fails to do so, she will be fined ten thousand dollars—per day—until that title belt is returned. Intact.
Evelyn offers a small, almost regretful smile—like she hates that it’s come to this, but won’t hesitate for even a second.
Evelyn Hall: I truly hope Ms. Vargas makes the wise decision. Because SCW will not tolerate attacks that end careers and we will not tolerate stolen property being paraded like a prize.
She rises from her chair, smoothing the front of her blazer, the calm returning fully to her face.
Evelyn Hall: Thank you for your time. Enjoy the rest of the program.
Evelyn gives the camera one final polite nod. The shot holds for a beat… then fades out, the implication hanging in the air: next week isn’t a request—it’s a deadline.
The camera finds Ryan Keys in the back of the Reno arena, sitting on a production crate instead of a bench because benches are apparently a suggestion. He’s already in his ring pants, one boot on, the other in his hands as he tightens the laces. Ms. Rocky Mountains is nearby, leaning against a road case, arms folded, watching him with that familiar you absolutely did this to yourself look.
Ms. Rocky Mountains: You ready for the glamorous life of living out of a suitcase again?
Ryan: I’m ready in the same way people are ‘ready’ for leg day.
He gives his boot a final tug, plants his foot, and starts wrapping his wrist tape.
Ryan: Mentally? Yes. Spiritually? Yes. Physically? My knees are currently typing a resignation letter.
Ms. Rocky Mountains: It hasn’t even started yet.
Ryan: They’re very dramatic. Runs in the family.
He glances around as the crew and wrestlers move through the hallway.
Ryan: Reno feels like the starting line though. Tour’s kicking off, everybody’s got that ‘new season, new chaos’ energy.
Ms. Rocky Mountains: And the Internet division’s open season.
Ryan’s grin widens.
Ryan: Which is great. Love that. Big fan. Terrible for my long-term health, probably.
He finishes taping his wrist and stands, bouncing lightly on his toes.
Ryan: But tonight’s easy. No overthinking. I’m just gonna walk at Alex like he owes me money and keep being in his way.
Ms. Rocky Mountains: That’s your master plan?
Ryan: Absolutely. Step one: be annoying. Step two: be very hard to get rid of. Step three: repeat until someone makes a mistake.
Ms. Rocky Mountains: You’re impossible.
Ryan: And yet, wildly consistent.
He shrugs into his vest and starts toward the curtain, then looks back at her.
Ryan: If this goes sideways, just tell everyone I had a very complicated strategy and it simply… evolved.
Ms. Rocky Mountains: I’m not lying for you.
Ryan: That’s fair. I respect your integrity.
Ryan heads down the hallway, the noise of the arena getting louder with every step, already smiling like someone who’s genuinely excited to get into a fight.
Camera returns to the ring and referee Dawn Barnes enters the ring
Justin: The following contest is scheduled for one fall! And it is a NON-TITLE match!
"I'm Made of Wax,Larry,What Are You Made Of?"by A Day to Remember plays while blue and white lights strobe over the stage. As Ryan’s entrance video is shown in the titantron the man himself walks out to take center stage. With a bright smile playing on his lips he does a confident pose before slowly making his way down the ramp. Ryan’s wearing a Black tight tank top with “Key Style” lettering, and under it is his small wet look ring trunk. His “Key hole” designed knee high boots and arm bands with the words “Ryan”in one and “keys”on the other showed off his style.
Justin: Introducing first! From Las Vegas, Nevada! Weighing in at 180 pounds! RYAN KEYS!
Slapping the hands of the fans to his side he jogs closer to the ring until he slides in through the bottom ropes. As he makes way up the corner ring post he stops and looks around to hear the cheers of the crowd as he teases them with tearing off his shirt and tossing it to the side. Showing the same confident pose as before he hops down and extends his leg over the ring post to stretch them out and show his flexibility before the match starts.
Simone: Ryan Keys is all spark and swagger, but don’t let the smile fool you, he’s fearless. That flexibility, that speed, that creativity… he turns the ring into his playground.
Lunam: Ah now, look at ‘im, bouncin’ about like he’s after winnin’ a dance contest at a wedding. But I’ll tell yeh, Simone, there’s steel under the sunshine. When Keys gets rollin’, he comes at ye from angles ye didn’t even know existed.
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.
Justin: And his opponent! From Dallas, Texas! Weighing in at 225 pounds! The current Internet Champion… ALEX JONES!
He makes his way down to the ring with an arrogant sneer before leaping up onto the ring apron and climbing inside of the ring. Alex shows off his newly won Internet Championship belt.
Simone: There it is, Alex Jones, dripping with arrogance and wearing that Internet Championship like it’s a crown. He’s dangerous on his best day, and he thinks every day is his best day.
Lunam: He’s the sort that’d strut into Mass and tell the priest he’s doin’ it wrong. Jones is pure poison, Simone, technical, nasty, and when he smells blood, he doesn’t stop to admire the work. He just keeps diggin’.
Justin steps out of the ring and Jacob calls for the bell!
DING DING DING!
Simone: And here we go, speed versus spite, heart versus ego, and Ryan Keys has absolutely nothing to lose against the champ in a non-title fight.
Lunam: Nothin’ to lose and everythin’ to gain, so, if I’m Ryan Keys, I’m flingin’ myself at the fella like a pint at closing time. Don’t give Jones room to set the table.
Keys doesn’t waste a second. He springs forward with a feint, shoulders loose, legs coiled, trying to bait Jones into a grab. Jones answers by raising his guard and stepping in with cold patience, reaching for wrist control like a man flicking a switch. Keys slaps the hand away, dips low, then flashes that grin and hits a sudden Matrix Evasion, leaning impossibly back as Jones swipes for him, before snapping upright and tagging Jones with a quick forearm to the jaw that pops the champ’s head to the side!
Simone: Matrix Evasion right out of the gate! Ryan Keys is trying to turn this into chaos immediately.
Lunam: He’s after makin’ Jones miss and pay, miss and pay, keep the big lad chasin’ shadows.
Jones shakes it off and storms forward with a collar-and-elbow, but Keys slips around, snags a wrist, and twists into an arm-wringer with a snap that yanks Jones onto his toes. Keys pivots, steps through, and plants Jones with an Arm-wringer slam, whipping the champion over and down with a sharp thud. Keys stays glued on, kneeling beside him and wrenching the arm again, trying to keep the bigger man grounded before the power game can even begin. Jones turns into the pressure and reverses the predicament into a hammerlock on Keys. Keys tries to cartwheel out, but Jones jerks him back in and whips him forward, hammerlock into a clothesline, and the clothesline cracks Keys across the throat like a board snapping in half!
Simone: That’s the difference right there, Keys wants motion, but Alex Jones wants control. One mistake, and he makes it hurt.
Lunam: That clothesline had bad intentions on it. Jones threw that like he was swattin’ a fly off his dinner.
Keys folds and stumbles toward the ropes, one hand instinctively going to his throat. Jones stalks him and peppers him with stiff martial arts kicks, each one thudding into ribs and thigh, forcing Keys to turn and cover up. Keys tries to dart away, but Jones clips him again, then grabs him by the head and yanks him into a snapmare, sitting him down hard, only for Jones to immediately swing his leg through with a savage soccer kick that smacks Keys in the shoulder and side of the head.
Simone: Snapmare into soccer kick! That’s a brutal combination, Alex Jones is speeding up, and that’s not good news.
Lunam: Aye, he’s found the rhythm now, tap-tap-tap, then bang. And Keys is blinkin’ like he’s after seein’ stars.
Jones goes for an early cover, hooking the near leg with a smug tug.
ONE!
TWO!
Keys kicks out!
Keys shoves Jones away and scrambles to hands and knees, trying to shake the cobwebs loose. Jones doesn’t give him the courtesy. He snatches Keys up into a front facelock and drives him down with a crisp Snap DDT, spiking Keys to the mat and sitting up with that same arrogant sneer, like it was inevitable.
Simone: Snap DDT, so clean, so fast. Ryan Keys got caught mid-reset, and Alex Jones pounced.
Lunam: That’s what a shark does, Simone. Ye stop splashing for half a second and, chomp.
Jones hooks the leg again, pressing his forearm across Keys’ cheek like an insult.
ONE!
TWO!
Keys kicks out again!
Keys’ body reacts before his brain does, pure instinct, pure fight. He rolls to the ropes, and Dawn Barnes is right there, watching Jones’ hands and warning him as he tries to haul Keys back up by the hair. Jones releases with exaggerated innocence, then immediately stomps Keys’ midsection as Keys tries to rise, earning a sharp glare from Dawn.
Simone: Dawn Barnes is already having to keep Alex honest… as honest as Alex Jones can be, anyway.
Lunam: If Dawn turns her head for a blink, he’ll be after cheatin’ in three different directions. That’s his religion.
Jones backs up and charges, looking for another crushing blow, but Keys times him perfectly. At the last second Keys throws himself sideways, sliding under the incoming strike, and springs up behind Jones with a sudden burst. Keys rebounds off the ropes, leaps, and snaps a Corkscrew Dropkick into Jones’ shoulder and jaw, spinning midair and catching the champ clean! Jones goes down hard, sprawling! He scrambles to his feet in the corner, using the ropes to pull himself to his feet. Keys capitalizes, sprinting again and snapping off a Handspring Elbow that pops Jones square in the face!
Simone: There’s the spark! Corkscrew Dropkick, handspring elbow, Ryan Keys is stringing momentum together!
Lunam: He’s after turnin’ the ring into a pinball machine, and Jones is the one gettin’ bounced!
Jones swings wild, trying to stop the flurry, but Keys ducks and blasts him with a One-handed bulldog, planting the champ face-first! Keys springs to his feet immediately, feeding off the roar of the crowd, and climbs the ropes with quick, confident steps. He balances, just long enough to tease the audience, then launches into a slick Back-flip off Top Rope, landing with a crash across Jones’ torso.
Simone: Back-flip splash! That’s explosive, Keys is flying now!
Lunam: He’s got the crowd in the palm of his hand, and Jones is feelin’ every ounce of it.
Keys hooks the leg tight, squeezing like he’s trying to steal this win right out from under the champion’s ego!
ONE!
TWO!
Jones kicks out!
Jones kicks out with force, but Keys is already moving again, refusing to let the match slow. He drags Jones up, whips him toward the corner, and follows, only for Jones to plant his feet and reverse the whip at the last moment. Keys goes chest-first into the turnbuckles, and Jones charges in behind him with a sharp Running Knee strike (V-Trigger) that slams into Keys’ back and sends Keys collapsing forward onto the ropes!
Simone: V-Trigger to the back! Alex Jones just cut Ryan Keys in half!
Lunam: That’ll knock the breath out of yer soul, that will. Keys hit them ropes like he was tryin’ to cling to life.
Jones yanks Keys backward by the waist and drills him with a pendulum backbreaker, swinging Keys across his knee. Keys’ spine bows, his face twisting with pain, and Jones keeps a hand on him to prevent escape, then transitions into a quick Spinning neckbreaker, snapping Keys down and rolling through like he’s running a practiced routine!
Simone: Backbreaker into spinning neckbreaker, Alex Jones is chaining punishment together. He’s methodical when he wants to be.
Lunam: Aye, and that’s what scares me. When he’s enjoyin’ himself, he’s reckless. When he’s focused? He’s cruel in an organized way.
Jones drags Keys toward the center and tries to lace his legs for a figure four leg lock, but Keys reacts fast, he kicks and twists, shoving Jones away with both boots. Jones stumbles back a step, annoyed, and rushes in again. Keys meets him low with a sudden Chop Block, crashing into Jones’ knee and chopping the base out from under him. Jones drops to one knee with a snarl, and Keys immediately snaps into a spiked Hurricarana!
Simone: Keys is attacking the base, smart! And the spiked Hurricarana sends Jones prone!
Lunam: Ryan knows Alex has all the momentum career-wise an’ is tryin’ to whittle away!
Keys pops up and, with Jones trying to rise, Keys darts to the ropes and rebounds. Jones swings a desperate lariat, Keys slips under it with another evasive bend and comes up into a crisp Hangman’s neckbreaker! Jones clutches at his throat as he rolls away, spilling out onto the ringside floor to take a break and recover. Keys senses the opening with a quick glance at Dawn and then the crowd. Keys hits the ropes and launches himself between them, colliding into Jones with a clean Suicide dive that sends both men skidding on the floor! The crowd erupts as Keys pops up first, shaking out his arms and urging them louder, while Jones rolls toward the barricade, furious and rattled!
Simone: Ryan Keys is taking every risk possible, he wants the biggest win of his career!
Lunam: He’s throwin’ caution in the bin and lightin’ it on fire, so he is!
Keys hauls Jones up and tries to whip him into the barricade, but Jones digs his heels in and reverses, sending Keys toward the steel. Keys leaps and catches himself, hands on the top, then springs off it, twisting midair and snapping a quick kick that clips Jones! Keys tries to herd him back toward the ring, but Jones suddenly surges, grabs Keys around the waist and throws him with a snap German suplex on the floor! Keys lands with a sickening slap, rolling to his side and Jones stands over him with a cold, satisfied look!
Simone: Alex Jones just turned the tide outside, there’s not much padding out there!
Lunam: That’s a dirty joy he gets, Simone, hurtin’ ye where it echoes.
Dawn Barnes starts her count as Jones soaks in the moment and Keys fights to breathe.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
FOUR!
FIVE!
SIX!
Jones drags Keys up by the wrist and shoves him back under the bottom rope, then follows, sliding in with predatory calm. Keys crawls to his knees, one hand on his lower back, the other trying to push hair out of his face so he can see. Jones doesn’t let him stand, he stomps the shoulder, then grabs Keys in a front facelock and drops him with a Rolling neck snap, wrenching Keys’ head and neck as he rolls through.
Simone: Rolling neck snap! Alex Jones is targeting the head and neck now, trying to slow Keys down permanently.
Lunam: Aye, and if Ryan can’t move his head, he can’t see the next trick comin’. Jones is cuttin’ the strings one by one.
Jones tries another cover, hooking both legs this time to keep Keys from wriggling.
ONE!
TWO!
Keys kicks out!
Keys kicks out, but it’s slower now, more strain in the movement, more grit required. Jones rises and stalks him, then throws those stiff martial arts kicks again, thumping thigh and ribs, forcing Keys to cover. Keys catches one kick on reflex, and the crowd surges as he stands up with the leg trapped, then he catches him with a Dragon screw, throwing Jones to the mat! Keys sprints to the ropes, rebounds, and nails a sharp Handstand Leg-Drop, popping up into a handstand over Jones and dropping his leg across Jones’ chest and throat with a snap!
Simone: That’s insane balance, and it landed flush!
Lunam: Mother of mercy, he’s like a feckin’ acrobat with a mean streak!
Keys doesn’t pause. He pulls Jones up and whips him corner to corner, then follows with a sprint. Jones tries to sidestep at the last second, but Keys leaps onto the middle rope and springs off, driving a Corkscrew Dropkick into Jones’ face. Jones staggers out, and Keys catches him with a quick one-handed bulldog again, planting him and immediately rolling him over for a cover!
ONE!
TWO!
Jones kicks out!
Simone: So close! Ryan Keys is building toward something, he can feel it.
Lunam: He’s smellin’ it like chips in the fryer, Simone. He’s ready to snatch this moment!
Jones rolls away and tries to retreat to the ropes, but Keys keeps after him. Keys grabs the arm again, wrenching it into a wringer, and Jones grimaces, then Jones suddenly fires up, popping his hips and snapping Keys down with a sharp counter, immediately cinching a tight grip around Keys’ head and arm. Jones shifts his legs, trying to lock in the Koji Clutch. Keys’ eyes widen as Jones starts to cinch the choke and crank the head back, and the crowd volume spikes as they realize how quickly this can end.
Simone: Koji Clutch attempt! If Jones locks this fully, Keys could tap in seconds!
Lunam: Fight it, lad, fight it! Don’t let him get the hooks set, don’t let him settle!
Keys scrambles, twisting his body, pushing at Jones’ legs with frantic strength. Keys slips free just enough to stumble forward and dive, hands to the bottom rope. Dawn Barnes leans in, pointing, calling for the break. Jones releases at the last moment with a glare, then snaps to his feet, furious that Keys escaped. Dawn steps between them for a heartbeat, warning Jones about holding too long on the ropes. Jones throws his hands up like he’s the victim, then turns and charges, only to get caught by Keys’ sudden Matrix Evasion again, leaning back just enough for Jones to miss, and then Keys springs upright and blasts Jones with a quick forearm to the side of the head!
Simone: He escaped the Koji Clutch and immediately turned it into offense, Ryan Keys is surviving by instincts!
Lunam: That’s heart, that is. Pure stubborn Las Vegas heart.
Keys hits the ropes, builds speed, and whips into a Running Hurricarana, but Jones blocks it this time, catching Keys mid-spin! Ryan is left dangling upside down and Alex hooks Keys’s arms with his legs and crashes forward with a Styles Clash!
Lunam: He’d do a bow after steppin’ on yer foot, the gobshite!
Jones doesn’t waste time admiring his work, he rolls over in the hold in a sunset pin!
ONE!
TWO!
Keys kicks out!
Simone: He kicked out!
Lunam: How in the name of, Keys is runnin’ on fumes and fightin’ anyway!
Jones sits up in disbelief, then slaps the mat in frustration. He grabs Keys’ legs again and tries to turn him for the figure four leg lock, and this time he gets it halfway in, twisting, sitting back to apply pressure! Keys yells, hands flailing as the torque bites into his knee and shin. Dawn Barnes drops to check, asking if he wants to submit, and Keys shakes his head violently, sweat flying.
Simone: Figure four! Ryan Keys is in trouble, look at the pressure on that leg!
Lunam: Don’t ye dare quit, lad, roll yer hips, reach, drag yerself! Inch by inch!
Keys claws at the canvas, dragging his upper body toward the ropes while Jones leans back, wrenching harder and shouting at him. Keys makes it a few inches… then a few more … the crowd clapping in rhythm, pushing him … but Jones shifts his weight and pulls him back slightly, trying to center him again! Keys cries out, then summons a last burst, he plants his hands, lifts his hips, and twists his body, rolling both men over! The pressure reverses onto Jones for a moment and Jones’ eyes go wide as he scrambles to adjust!
Simone: He turned it! The reversal pressure, Keys rolled the figure four!
Lunam: Aye! That’s it! Make the fecker taste his own medicine!
Jones quickly releases before it can do real damage, stumbling up and clutching at his knee. Keys drags himself upright using the ropes, shaking his leg out, grimacing through pain. Jones rushes in for a strike but Ryan ducks at the last minute and he instead sends Alex into the rafters with a back body drop, sending Jones crashing on his tailbone!
Simone: He’s got him! Ryan Keys has Alex Jones down!
Lunam: This is it now, this is the feckin’ window! Don’t admire it, take it!
Keys drags Jones to the center with effort, his leg clearly bothering him, then climbs the ropes one more time. The crowd rises. Keys steadies himself, breath heaving, eyes locked on Jones’ chest like it’s a bullseye. He launches, Back-flip off Top Rope, and crashes down perfectly across Jones with a flying moonsault!
ONE!
TWO!
Jones barely, BARELY, kicks out!
Simone: He almost had him! That was milliseconds!
Lunam: Jones escaped by the skin of his teeth, Ryan was a heartbeat away from toppin’ the champion!
Keys sits up in shock, hands on his head, then immediately turns that disbelief into determination. He hauls Jones up, staggering him with a forearm, and tries to set him up for something big! And in the split second Dawn’s angle is blocked by their bodies, Jones snaps his hand up and pokes Keys in the eye! Keys jerks back with a howl, both hands clapping over his face. Dawn Barnes instantly steps in, pointing at Jones, scolding him hard while the crowd rains down boos.
Simone: Eye poke! That’s disgusting, come on!
Lunam: He’s a bleedin’ snake! Dawn’s givin’ out to him, but the damage is done!
Dawn is still reprimanding Jones, warning him, telling him she’s watching him closely. Keys staggers in a tight circle, one hand still clamped over his eye, blinking furiously with the other, trying to clear the blur. He turns back toward Jones, still hurt, still fighting, just in time for Jones explodes forward, grabs Keys, and hits The Dragon Sleeps, The Zig zag/dangerzone, snapping Keys down hard in the center of the ring. Jones immediately sprawls over him, hooking the leg tight like he’s afraid the universe might steal this from him.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
DING DING DING!
Justin: Here is your winner… ALEX JONES!
Simone: What a robbery! Ryan Keys had this match won, and Alex Jones, right when it mattered, went to the lowest rung on the ladder.
Lunam: That’s the tragedy of it, Simone. Keys fought like a madman, had the crowd, had the momentum, then Jones does what Jones always does. He cheats, he steals, and he walks out smilin’ like he earned it. Ryan Keys just took the champion to the brink… and got stabbed in the eye for his trouble.
Alex holds the Internet championship to his chest as he starts to make his way to the back. He takes a few deep breaths after his match against Ryan Keys
Lunam: A very competitive match here you can tell that Alex felt that one.
Simone: Yeah but who knows what the future is going to bring here and wait look out
Lunam: Oh no
A figure in a black hoodie and jeans jumps the railing and crashes into Alex. He starts stomping him down over and over again. After a few moments he unzipped the hoodie and froze it off revealing that it is Miles Kasey. The second it is revealed that it’s miles the entire crowd erupt. Alex looks up like you’ve seen a ghost and starts to crawl away but Miles quickly descends on Alex throwing hard right hands grabbing hold of a handful of Alex‘s hair.
Simone: Miles Kasey has snapped!
Lunam: He has reached his limit. Everything the people keep saying about him has gotten under his skin and you can tell he’s had enough of this crap.
Alex kicks miles away and starts to slide back up toward the ring. Entrance miles steps forward but is stopped by a group of security who grab hold of him and hold him back. The crowd starts to boo wildly as Alex gets to his feet and scampers to the backstage area. A camera now follows Alex as he moves through the hallways getting everyone out of his way as he moves towards the exit.
Alex Jones: Move get out of the way!
Lunam: Alex is trying to get the hell out of Dodge
Miles Kasey: Oi mate, where are you going?
Lunam: Its Miles!
Alex’s eyes widen as he turns around. Miles comes flying from the side slamming into Alex with a hard right hand. Alex falls onto one of the tables backstage and Miles just start peppering him with hard right hands keeping his left hand rapid Alex‘s hair to hold him still. Each shot echoes through the backstage area as Miles just keeps hitting Alex. Alex pushes miles away and tries to get away again but grabs hold of a piece of the lighting rig and throws it down the hallway hitting Alex in the back causing him to stumble. Alex gets up standing right in front of a locker room door and Miles comes flying forward tackling Alex through the door the both of them crashing through with a thought Miles then keeps hitting Alex over and over and over again beating the hell out of him..
Lunam: This is insane!
Simone: But I guess we can’t say that Alex didn’t have it coming
The security turns back up again to try and save Alex pulling Miles backwards miles fights against them. Alex starts to stir slowly getting up but as he gets to his knees, Miles breaks away from the security running forward. He then throws his elbow out hitting Alex with a double edged sword. The impact knocking Alex out. Security looks shocked as miles finally stops and gets to his feet looking down at Alex. He takes a deep breath and knees down next to him putting a hand on the Internet championship and staring Alex right in the face
Miles Kasey: Goodnight….bitch
Miles stands back up and turns pushing past security as Alex lays in the rubble of the door looking completely out of it before we cut back to ringside.
BOMBSHELL ROULETTE CHAMPIONSHIP
Alicia Lukas © vs Cassie Wolfe
Backstage Vincent Lyons Jr is shown arguing with officials about his actions when Victoria Lyons arrives on the scene.
Victoria Lyons: Vincent what the hell was that about earlier!? I know I'm not perfect and I've done some bad things but Eddie did not deserve that, and then you try to go after me? You need help Vincent And as your sister that's up to me to provide it for you, since you are unable to help yourself.
Vincent Lyons Jr: Help? I don't need anybody's help. Especially yours. I can handle myself Victoria, you need to learn how to mind your own business.
Victoria Lyons: But you are my business, that's why I was able to make some calls, and these men are here to help you.
The camera pan slightly to see Victoria is accompanied by some men in white coats.
Vincent Lyons Jr: What the hell is this?
Victoria Lyons: You have become a danger to yourself and others Vincent, and these men are going to take you somewhere where they can help you get better.
Vincent Lyons Jr: You're going to have me committed?
Victoria Lyons: It's for your own good Vincent, they're going to help you'll get better, I'm doing this because I care about you.
She smirks at him, As she starts to speak in a false caring tone.
Victoria Lyons: Please take him, please help my brother. He's unwell. He hurt one of our cousins tonight, he tried to drown a man a few months ago, and he's tried to take out members of the Kasey family multiple times. I can show you his tweets that prove his attack on our cousin was likely premeditated.
Man: We understand ma'am we'll do everything we can to help your brother.
He turned his attention to Vincent
Man: Sir if you could come with us please.
Vincent refuses but the men take immediate action and are able to subdue him, before they drag them off Victoria leans in close and whispers in his ear.
Victoria Lyons: By the way….I have no brother.
Vincent's eyes widen and he starts yelling as the men drag them off and he's seen being thrown into the back of a white van which speeds off into the night.
GRUDGE MATCH
LJ Kasey vs Brandon “F’n” Hendrix
Pussy Willow: Pussy Willow here at Climax Control, and World Heavyweight Champion Helluva Bottom Carter.
Carter is leaned against a black road case, title slung over one shoulder like it weighs less than his patience. His jaw is tight, eyes narrowed, an ice-cold stare aimed at absolutely nobody and everybody at the same time. He looks extremely annoyed, like the air itself is testing him.)*
Pussy Willow: Carter, I’m gonna try to catch you for a second. Have you heard the news about your challenger for Blaze of Glory XV on March 8?
HBCarter huffs a sharp exhale through his nose, like he’s trying not to bite through steel. He shifts the belt on his shoulder and glares right into the lens.
HBCarter: Yeah. Yeah, I heard.
He pushes off the road case and steps closer, the irritation rolling off him in heat waves.
HBCarter: And I’d dearly love to know what the hell Raven did to warrant this return match! He lost. He. Lost! All that build up Alexander Raven did, talking about how he was gonna end me and everything I loved, and then what happened? He fell flat on his face! He and his bitch got caught tryin’ to cheat and it cost ‘em. And. He. Lost!
He shakes his head slowly, like he’s trying to process the stupidity of it, but it only makes him angrier.
HBCarter: And now he’s getting another chance to try and make up for his crash and burn? That’s the reward? You screw up, you fail, you embarrass yourself on the biggest stage so here, have another shot at my title? Make it make sense!
Carter stares past the camera for a beat, jaw flexing like he’s grinding the thought into dust.
HBCarter: March 8, he better bring more than speeches!
Carter shakes his head in disgust, turns, and storms off down the hallway—belt still on his shoulder, annoyance now sharpened into purpose. Pussy Willow watches him go, careful not to follow too close.
Simone: It’s time for the first Climax Control Main Event of 2026 ladies and gentlemen! Over the coming weeks we will see a series of matches to determine Victoria Lyons’ next Bombshell Internet Title challenger but she faces a unique situation in our next match because she will face Bella Madison in a qualifier! If Bella wins she moves on in the series with a massive boost in momentum but if Victoria wins? Bella is out of contention!
Lunam: Bella is already coming off a tough loss to Kayla Richards at Inception VIII but she has a massive opportunity tonight, meanwhile Victoria fended off Harper Mason in a close battle and now? She’s ready to defend again!
Simone: This should be a huge match! Let’s take it to Justin!
Justin: This is your Main Event of the evening, scheduled for one fall and is a non-title qualifier 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 Darian, from Charlotte, North Carolina she the reigning Bombshell Internet Champion. “THE QUEEN” VICTORIA LYONS!
Simone: As we said, Victoria has nothing but momentum on her side!
Lunam: And her fiancé!
Justin: And her 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 ONE!TWO!5 pounds, this is BELLA MADISON!
“Metallic tranquility… 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 circles the ring once, staring up at it like a battlefield.
Simone: Bella is a former Bombshell Internet Champion in her own right, but she faces a monumental task tonight!
Lunam: Can she do it?
She slides under the bottom rope, staying on one knee for a second, grounded, still, gathering the storm. Then she stands.
“Just be human, fuck your pride… you’re addicted to the fight…”
She pulls back the hood. Her hair falls loose around her face. Eyes fixed dead on the hard cam.
“I’ll bite my tongue ‘til it bleeds…”
She mouths the words with steady conviction, a vow, not a lyric. As the chorus fades, she steps to the center of the ring and raises three fingers. No smile. No pose. No compromise.Just Bella. Exactly as she is now, Drew goes over the rules with both women before taking the title from Victoria and calling for the bell!
DING DING DING!
Simone: And the first Climax Control Main Event of the year is on!
Lunam: This will be good!
Once the bell rings Bella and Victoria circle around each other before they lock up in the middle of the ring, being the taller of the two women Victoria takes the initial advantage hitting Bella with a arm drag and following it up with an arm bar, however Bella flips out of it and counters with an arm drag of her own before following that up with a high dropkick to Victoria’s chin! Victoria bails from the ring to regroup and while Drew applies a ten count Bella starts hyping up the crowd for a Suicide Dive! However Darian trips her up when Bella goes for the running start.
Simone: Well, that didn’t take long!
Lunam: This is supposed to be a one on one match between Victoria and Bella but Bella may as well be wrestling a handicap match!
Bella shoots a glare at Darian who puts his hands up, trying to act all innocent while Victoria is suddenly very interested in getting back in the ring as Bella gets back to her feet, Bella turns around but gets planted with a Brainbuster by Victoria who goes for the first pin of the match.
ONE!
TWO!
And Bella kicks out! Victoria argues with Drew which gives Darian a chance to taunt Bella to her face, Bella in return pie faces Darian sending him head over heels.
Simone: Darian just got a face full of Bella’s pie and…………..WAIT, NO!!!!!!!!
Lunam: Unfortunate choice of words from my broadcast partner aside? Victoria does not look happy!
Victoria yanks Bella back up to her feet and screams in her face loud enough for the cameras to catch it from the other side of the artena:
Victoria: NO ONE MANDHANDLES MY MAN BUT ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Simone: Our reigning Bombshell Internet Champion ladies and gentlemen!
Victoria then goes for a standing lariat but Bella ducks it and counters the attempted move with a roll up!
ONE!
TWO!
And Victoria kicks out!
Lunam: And her hubris could’ve cost her there!
Victoria scrambles to her feet but Bella meets her with another dropkick that sends the champ sprawling to the outside right as Darian has gotten back to his feet, Darian checks on his future wife but goes down (NOT LIKE THAT) just as quicky as he got up as Victoria shoves him out of the way. Why? Because Bella has come barrelling towards the Bombshell Internet Champion with a Suicide Dive!
Simone: It’s not Darian’s night is it?
Lunam: No, not it’s not!
Bella rolls Victoria back into the ring right as Darian is scrambling to his feet and Bella goes for her second straight cover.
ONE!
TWO!
AND DARIAN PUTS VICTORIA’S FOOT ON THE ROPES! Alerting Drew to it all the while! Drew didn’t see the blatant cheating but Bella did and the New Yorker leaves the ring to give chase to Darian who runs a lap around the ring before rolling in! Bella follows him in but Victoria catches Bella with a lariat, turning her inside out!
Simone: More interference from Darian and I have to ask, how long until Drew kicks out Victoria’s manager?
Lunam: I bet Bella’s wondering the same thing!
Victoria goes for a pin!
ONE!
TWO!
And Bella barely kicks out at two and a half! Victoria glares at Drew as Bella rolls towards the ring ropes but Victoria gives chase and pins her again!
ONE!
DARIAN GRABS BOTH OF BELLA’S LEGS!
TWO!
AND DREW CATCHES HIM!
Simone: OH, OH!
Lunam: Darian just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar and that’s bad news for the champ and great news for Bella!
Darian pleads his innocence but Drew’s having none of it and immediately ejects Darian! Victoria is beside herself with anger while Bella mockingly waves him goodbye!
Crowd: NANANANA! NANANANA, HEY, HEY, HEY, GOODBYE!
Simone: That will never get old!
Lunam: Unlike SOME chants!
Darian eventually (and reluctantly) retreats up the ramp while Victoria picks up Bella only to bet hit with a Small Package!
ONE!
TWO!
And Victoria kicks out! Victoria scrambles to her feet only for Bella to hit a Running Hurricanrana on her and hold on for another pin!
ONE!
TWO!
AND VICTORIA BARELY KICKS OUT!
Simone: Bella almost had Victoria pinned!
Lunam: Almost being the key word!
Both women are clearly exhausted from the long match, Victoria us staring at the ceiling following her kickout while Bella lays face down on the matt unmoving, before Drew can start his count however Victoria sits up and Bella starts to get up under her own power as well, Victoria tries for a ring hand but Bella ducks it, runs to the opposite ropes and nails the champ with a spear! However, now? Both women are seemingly down for the count.
Simone: It’s been said many times but whoever gets up first will have a huge advantage!
Lunam: Especially with what’s at stake for Bella!
Drew’s count reaches seven before Bella manages to get an arm draped around Victoria’s chest for a pin!
ONE!
TWO!
And Victoria BARELY kicks out again! Bella rolls away and uses the ring ropes to pull herself up while Victoria pulls herself up under her own power! Bella, on pure adrenaline, charges in for a clothesline but Victoria ducks and scores with a School Girl!
ONE!
VICTORIA GRABS BELLA’S TIGHTS!
TWO!
AND BELLA STILL KICKS OUT! Victoria can’t believe it but doesn’t even get a chance to complain to the ref as she eats a Superkick from Bella! And upon seeing Victoria land near the corner Bella starts going to the top rope!
Simone: BELLA’S GOING FOR THE SECOND GEN!
Lunam: IS SHE ABOUT TO PUNCH HER TICKET TO BE IN THE NEXT ROUND?!
Bella goes for the Pheonix Splash but Victoria gets the knees up, causing the second generation wrestler to crash and burn! Bella stands up, hunched over and clutching her mid-section in pain and Victoria takes advantage of this to hit the Lyons Roar DDT!
Simone: And there’s Victoria with the Lyons Roar!
Lunam: I think Bella just ran out of steam, stick a fork in her, she’s done!
Victoria goes for the pin!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
DING! DING! DING!
Justin: Here’s your winner, the Bombshell Internet Champion VICTORIA LYONS!
Simone: Victoria gets the win and that means that Bella is out of contention!
Lunam: What a match!
Victoria celebrates while Drew checks on Bella.
Simone: What a way to kick off 2026 here on Climax Control! Victoria Lyons survives an absolute war in our Main Event, and with that win she slams the door shut on Bella Madison’s hopes in this qualifier series because tonight, the Bombshell Internet Champion proved she’ll do anything to keep her throne firmly under her crown!
Lunam: Ahh, I’m tellin’ ye, Belinda! Bella brought the storm with her, and for a while there I thought we were about to see the whole bracket flipped on its head. She threw every bit of grit she had at Victoria, and she near had her more than once… but the champ? The champ found that last cruel gear in the end. It’s a hard lesson. Ye can be brilliant, ye can be brave, ye can be stubborn as sin… and still come up a heartbeat short!
Simone: And right now, Victoria Lyons is still standing! Still champion, still in control of her fate, and still very much the most dangerous kind of confident.
Lunam: Look at her there now, paradin’ about the ring like she owns the whole bleedin’ building and maybe she does tonight. The fans are givin’ her an earful, the officials are checkin’ on Bella, and Victoria’s just smirkin’ through it all like, “Of course I won.” That’s the kind of swagger that drives people mad and the kind that wins titles, yeah?
Simone: Folks, we’ve got to wrap it up, but make no mistake! This qualifier series is only heating up from here, and the road to a new number one contender just got a whole lot steeper.
Lunam: From the both of us, thank ye kindly for spendin’ your night with us. We love havin’ ye along for the ride, so we do every cheer, every chant, every roar in the stands makes it what it is.
Simone: Thank you for watching Climax Control, good night, safe travels, and we’ll see you next week when Climax Control originates from the Selland Arena in Fresno, California!
Lunam: Fresno, California next week! Don’t ye dare miss it now. For Simone, I’m Lunam - mind yourselves, and we’ll catch ye then!
The camera lingers on the sea of fans along the barricade, some applauding, some booing, some still buzzing from the finish while Victoria remains inside the ring, title raised high and chin lifted like a monarch above the noise. She paces once, slow and satisfied, soaking it all in as the hard cam pulls back. The arena lights dim a touch, the broadcast audio swells with the crowd’s final rumble and the picture fades to credits.
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!