(The EMF logo flashes on the screen.)
(We open up to the darken arena. Pyrotechnics blasts on the stage. The lights turn on, and fans yell, and wave their signs. The camera gets a few shots of the crowd. They zoom out to display the location information, we get one more shot of the crowd as the commentators speak over the shot.)
JR-Welcome to Saturday SHokcwave. I’m good ol’ JR, Jim Ross. I’m joined by Jerry “the King” Lawler, and Kris “KG” Gaffney.
King-Tonight Azar Vulcan faces off against CM Punk.
Kris Gaffney-He’ll have a big homefield advantage.
King-But that doesn’t matter when he’s already better than everyone else.
[The arena dims, setting the stage for a dramatic entrance. The opening notes of "KICK BACK" by Kenshi Yonezu fill the space, its energetic and upbeat rhythm instantly gripping the audience. The titantron comes alive with vibrant animations reminiscent of action-packed anime sequences.]
Announcer: "Making his way
to the ring, from London, England, weighing in at 275 pounds, he is 'The Samurai Otaku'... Mansa Carthage!"
[As the music swells, the lights pulse in sync with the beat, casting bright, dynamic colors across the stage. Mansa Carthage bursts onto the scene with an exuberant energy, wearing a fusion of samurai-inspired attire and modern streetwear, complete with symbolic touches from his favorite animes.]
[Mansa moves with a playful yet confident swagger, embodying the larger-than-life characters he admires. He performs exaggerated, anime-style poses and martial arts moves, engaging the crowd and drawing them into his world of fantasy and excitement.]
[As he makes his way down the ramp, the titantron displays iconic scenes from various animes, interspersed with clips of Mansa's own in-ring highlights, showcasing his agility and strength.]
[Upon reaching the ring, Mansa leaps onto the apron with a flourish, pausing to strike a dramatic samurai pose, complete with a mock sword drawing gesture. He then flips over the top rope with acrobatic ease, landing in a superhero landing pose that sends the crowd into a frenzy.]
[With the music reaching its climax, Mansa bounds to each corner of the ring, energetically engaging with the fans, showing off his charismatic and playful side. He then centers himself, closing his eyes for a moment as if channeling the spirit of both anime heroes and samurai warriors, preparing himself mentally and physically for the battle ahead.]
[As the song fades, Mansa opens his eyes, poses, and now focused and ready, his playful demeanor giving way to the serious, disciplined side of a warrior ready for combat.]
Jim Ross: Mansa Carthage looks composed tonight. Against a presence like Archaos Angels, that composure is going to matter.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: Composure is nice, JR, but it does not help if Archaos Angels drops him on his head.
Kris Gaffney: Mansa looks like he brought a plan. I just hope the plan has a section for nightmare bird-man violence.
[The arena drops into darkness. A single bell tolls through the building, and a bruised purple glow spills across the stage. Archaos Angels steps into view alone, tall, silent, and unnervingly still, metallic feather plates along his shoulders catching the light like blades. His pale mask hides every expression, making the slow tilt of his head feel even more unnatural. He begins his walk with heavy, deliberate steps, never acknowledging the crowd, never breaking his line toward the ring. At ringside he stops and looks up at Mansa, motionless for a long second, then climbs the steps and enters between the ropes. Archaos Angels stands at center ring and lifts both arms into a cruciform shape, the metallic feathers spreading in the purple light before he slowly lowers them and turns toward Mansa. The air feels colder as the referee steps between them.]
Jim Ross: Archaos Angels is as unsettling as they come. He brings silence, power, and bad intentions.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: I like him already. He does not waste words.
Kris Gaffney: He looks like a cathedral gargoyle got tired of sitting still.
[The referee gives the final instructions. Mansa nods once. Archaos Angels does not move, only stares through the mask. The bell rings.]
[Mansa and Archaos Angels circle slowly at first, both men testing the distance without giving away too much. Mansa steps in for a lockup and immediately tries to drive Archaos backward, but Archaos holds his ground like a post sunk deep into stone. They strain chest to chest, boots digging into the mat, before Archaos shifts his weight and forces Mansa back a step. Mansa changes levels, slips to the side, and fires a hard body shot into the ribs, then another. Archaos absorbs them and answers with a clubbing forearm across the upper back that drops Mansa to one knee. The crowd groans. Archaos grabs Mansa by the jaw and tries to pull him up into a front facelock, but Mansa drives forward, powering him into the ropes and forcing a break.]
Jim Ross: Heavy opening. Neither man is interested in feeling this out for long.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: Good. Feeling out is overrated. Start throwing furniture.
Kris Gaffney: Two minutes in and the ring already sounds like a loading dock.
[Mansa backs away clean, then re-enters with more speed, chopping at Archaos’s base with a low kick and a shoulder to the midsection. Archaos stumbles back into the corner and Mansa follows with short, heavy rights to the body, each one designed to pull air out of the masked man. The referee warns him about the corner count, and Mansa breaks at three. Archaos suddenly lunges out with a palm strike to the chest that knocks Mansa backward, then catches him with a charging knee to the ribs. Mansa doubles over and Archaos hooks him by the waist, lifting him into a brutal gutwrench suplex that throws him halfway across the ring. Mansa rolls to his side, grimacing, while Archaos rises without celebration.]
Jim Ross: That is raw force from Archaos Angels. He can change the match with one throw.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: Mansa just learned that wings are optional when you can fly like that.
Kris Gaffney: Sudden air travel. No snacks, no seatbelt, rough landing.
[Archaos stalks with patient menace, dragging Mansa up by the wrist and wrenching the arm before driving a shoulder into the joint. Mansa tries to club free, but Archaos twists behind him and drops him with a half nelson backbreaker, bending him across the knee and dumping him to the mat. Archaos covers with one forearm pressed across the face. One. Two. Mansa powers out, shoving Archaos off with authority. Archaos sits upright and tilts his head, as if the kickout was not surprising, only another note in the pattern. He pulls Mansa up again, but Mansa explodes with a headbutt to the chest and a sharp elbow to the jaw. Archaos rocks back. Mansa hits the ropes and levels him with a shoulder tackle that finally takes the masked man off his feet.]
Jim Ross: There is the answer from Mansa Carthage. He had to create impact and he did.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: He knocked him down, but now he has to keep him down. That is the irritating part.
Kris Gaffney: Step one, move mountain. Step two, convince mountain to stay moved.
[Mansa does not waste the opening. He drags Archaos up and hammers a knee to the midsection, then whips him hard into the corner. Archaos hits the buckles and Mansa charges in with a crushing corner clothesline, keeping him pinned long enough to unload two more body shots. Mansa pulls him out and plants him with a side slam that shakes the mat. Cover. One. Two. Archaos kicks out. Mansa stays on him, grabbing a waistlock and trying to deadlift him, but Archaos blocks, elbows backward, and breaks the grip. Archaos turns and lands a forearm, then another, then catches Mansa under the chin with a rising knee. Mansa staggers, and Archaos immediately hoists him into a vertical suplex, holding him high for a long second before dropping him flat.]
Jim Ross: Archaos Angels is not letting Mansa build a long run of offense.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: That is smart. Interrupt the man before he starts believing in himself.
Kris Gaffney: Belief canceled due to incoming suplex.
[Archaos covers again. One. Two. Mansa kicks out. Archaos pulls him into a grounded straightjacket hold, threading the arms and bending Mansa’s shoulders at an ugly angle. Mansa grits his teeth and pushes against the mat, fighting up one knee at a time while the crowd claps in rhythm. Archaos wrenches backward harder, but Mansa plants both boots and rises through the pressure. He backs Archaos into the turnbuckles, breaking the hold with a thud, then turns and catches him with a back elbow. Archaos charges again and Mansa ducks under, catches the waist, and launches him with a release German suplex that brings the crowd to its feet. Archaos rolls through awkwardly and ends up near the ropes.]
Jim Ross: That German suplex turned the momentum in one heartbeat.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: Momentum is dangerous when Mansa gets both hands on it.
Kris Gaffney: That was less a suplex and more a relocation notice.
[Mansa rises with fire now, pounding one fist into his palm as Archaos pulls himself upright. Mansa lands a heavy clothesline. Archaos stays on his feet. Mansa hits the ropes and lands a second, harder than the first. Archaos wobbles. Mansa roars and hits the ropes a third time, blasting him with a massive lariat that finally drops him flat. Mansa covers. One. Two. Archaos gets a shoulder up at the last moment, drawing a loud reaction. Mansa nods once, accepting that it will take more. He drags Archaos up and hooks for a slam, but Archaos slips behind, clamps on a half nelson, and spikes Mansa with a half nelson suplex that folds him near center ring.]
Jim Ross: Good grief, Archaos Angels just turned Mansa inside out.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: That might be it. Hook him now.
Kris Gaffney: That landing made my chair apologize.
[Archaos crawls into the cover, hooking the near leg. One. Two. Mansa kicks out, and the building erupts. For the first time, Archaos pauses a fraction longer than before. He rises slowly and lifts both arms again, signaling that he is ready to end it. He pulls Mansa up, doubles him with a knee, and begins to thread both arms behind him for a crucifix powerbomb. Mansa fights with everything he has, throwing short elbows, twisting his hips, refusing to be lifted clean. Archaos gets him halfway up, but Mansa shifts his weight and drops behind him. Archaos turns quickly, but Mansa catches him with a sudden spinebuster that detonates the canvas.]
Jim Ross: Mansa countered at the last possible second.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: That was survival with a steering wheel.
Kris Gaffney: He just swerved out of a disaster and drove straight through a wall.
[Both men are down as the referee checks them. Mansa stirs first, using the ropes to rise. Archaos gets to one knee, mask tilted downward, body still moving with that eerie calm despite the damage. Mansa steps in and lands a sharp forearm. Archaos answers with one of his own. Mansa fires back. Archaos answers again. The exchange builds, each strike heavier, until Mansa blocks one, headbutts Archaos in the chest, and hooks him around the waist. Archaos fights the lift, but Mansa powers through, driving him down with a thunderous Dragons Descend on Archaos Angels into a pin.
Jim Ross: Mansa planted him! Center of the ring!
Jerry "The King" Lawler: Kick out of that if you are not made of stone.
Kris Gaffney: Even stone cracks under pressure.
[The referee counts. One. Two. Three.]
The arena lights lower into a heavy gold glow as Roman Reigns steps through the curtain with slow, commanding confidence. He does not rush the moment because the moment seems to wait for him. Roman stops at the top of the ramp, chin raised, eyes locked on the ring, and lets the sound of the crowd roll over him in waves of cheers, boos, and raw recognition. He lifts one hand slightly, palm down, asking for silence that never comes, then smirks like the noise belongs to him anyway. With every step down the ramp, Roman carries himself like a man walking toward something already decided. At ringside he circles once, climbs the steel steps, and stands on the apron with his head turned toward the hard camera. He taps two fingers to his chest, then steps through the ropes and paces the ring’s perimeter with calm authority. He stops in the corner, leans back against the turnbuckles, and waits with the expression of a man who believes the only question is how long Jasper Ace can survive.]
Jim Ross: Roman Reigns has a way of making every match feel like a test of survival for the man standing across from him.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: That is because most of the time, JR, that is exactly what it is.
Kris Gaffney: Roman walks like the ending already got printed and everybody else is just reading along.
[Jasper Ace bursts through the curtain with quick confidence and a sharp grin, soaking in the crowd’s reaction with both arms spread wide. He points to Roman in the ring, then taps the side of his own head, signaling that he plans to outthink the powerhouse waiting for him. Jasper heads down the ramp with bounce in his step, slapping hands along the barricade and pausing once to shadowbox toward the camera. He is clearly aware of the danger, but he refuses to let that danger shrink him. At ringside he hops onto the apron, wipes his boots, and springs over the top rope with an athletic landing that earns a strong pop from the crowd. Jasper jogs a tight circle around the ring, testing the ropes, then climbs the second turnbuckle and raises one fist. When he drops back to the mat, his grin fades into focus. He walks toward center ring, staring straight at Roman, unwilling to show an ounce of fear.]
Jim Ross: Jasper Ace has confidence, athleticism, and speed. He will need all three tonight.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: Confidence is useful until Roman punches it out of your face.
Kris Gaffney: Jasper looks like he brought a plan. Roman looks like he brought the weather.
[The referee calls both men to the center and gives the final instructions. Jasper nods, eyes locked on Roman. Roman barely acknowledges the official, only staring down at his opponent with a quiet, imposing calm. The referee backs them apart and signals for the bell.]
[The bell rings and Jasper immediately circles, staying light on his feet, trying to force Roman to turn and reset. Roman follows with slow, deliberate steps, cutting off the ring instead of chasing. Jasper darts in with a quick low kick to the thigh, then bounces away before Roman can grab him. He lands another kick to the same leg and adds a sharp forearm to the chest, drawing a reaction from the crowd. Roman’s expression barely changes. Jasper tries to push the tempo, hitting the ropes and coming back with a running shoulder. Roman absorbs it and does not move. Jasper looks up, realizes the mistake, and ducks under Roman’s answering swing. He rebounds again, this time going low with a basement dropkick to the knee that finally forces Roman to take a step back.]
Jim Ross: Smart opening from Jasper Ace. He cannot win a power battle, so he is attacking the base.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: That sounds great until Roman gets tired of being kicked.
Kris Gaffney: The strategy is poke the lion and hope your shoes are fast enough.
[Jasper presses the advantage, throwing quick shots to the leg and body before grabbing a side headlock. Roman immediately shoves him to the ropes, but Jasper rebounds and slides between Roman’s legs, popping up behind him with a dropkick to the back that sends Roman into the corner. Jasper charges in and lands a running forearm, then quickly climbs to the second rope and starts firing punches while the crowd counts along. He gets to five before Roman plants both hands under Jasper’s legs and walks him out of the corner, turning the mounted punches into raw danger. Jasper tries to hammer down more shots, but Roman powers him up and throws him forward with a modified powerbomb that shakes the ring.]
Jim Ross: There is the strength of Roman Reigns. Jasper had momentum, and Roman turned it into impact.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: That is what happens when you climb onto a mountain and forget mountains can move.
Kris Gaffney: Sudden elevation change. No refund on landing.
[Roman stands over Jasper and takes his time. He drags Jasper up by the wrist and whips him hard into the corner. Jasper hits the buckles and stumbles forward into a huge clothesline that flips him to the mat. Roman covers with a forearm across the face. One. Two. Jasper kicks out. Roman does not argue. He simply sits up, looks down at Jasper, and starts applying pressure. He pulls Jasper into a grounded chinlock, one arm across the jaw and the other controlling the wrist, grinding the pace down to his preferred rhythm. Jasper tries to twist free, but Roman shifts his weight and drives a knee into the back before cinching the hold tighter.]
Jim Ross: Roman is slowing this match down, making Jasper carry his weight and forcing him away from that speed advantage.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: Smart. If Jasper cannot fly, he cannot escape.
Kris Gaffney: Roman just grounded the airline.
[Jasper fights to one knee as the crowd claps in rhythm. Roman leans harder, trying to smother him, but Jasper digs both boots into the mat and rises. He lands elbows to the ribs, one, two, three, and breaks free. Jasper hits the ropes and ducks under a big boot, then springs to the second rope and fires back with a twisting crossbody that catches Roman flush. Roman goes down and Jasper hooks the leg. One. Two. Roman powers out with authority, sending Jasper rolling away. Jasper pops up and immediately follows with a standing moonsault across Roman’s chest. Another cover. One. Two. Roman kicks out again, but this one takes a little more effort.]
Jim Ross: Jasper Ace is finding windows. He is not wasting them.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: Windows close fast when Roman is in the house.
Kris Gaffney: And Roman does not use curtains. He uses uppercuts.
[Jasper senses the shift and starts building speed. He lands a sharp kick to Roman’s chest, then another to the thigh, then a quick enzuigiri that catches Roman behind the ear and drops him to one knee. The crowd rises. Jasper runs the ropes and charges for a knee strike, but Roman explodes up and catches him with a thunderous Samoan drop that halts everything at once. Both men are down, but Roman sits up first, breathing harder now, annoyance creeping into his face. He rises and drags Jasper up, then launches him with a belly-to-belly throw that sends Ace rolling all the way to the apron.]
Jim Ross: Roman Reigns can erase momentum with one move.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: That was not erasing. That was deleting the whole folder.
Kris Gaffney: Jasper’s game plan just went into the recycle bin.
[Roman steps out to the floor and stalks Jasper, who is trying to pull himself up by the apron. Roman grabs him by the head and bounces him face first off the edge, then rolls him back inside. Jasper crawls toward the ropes, but Roman slides in and cuts him off with a heavy stomp to the ribs. Roman backs into the corner, raises one arm, and slowly closes his fist as the crowd buzzes. Jasper struggles to his feet, turns, and Roman charges forward for the Superman Punch. Jasper ducks at the last instant, hits the ropes, and catches Roman with a sling blade that drives him down. Jasper scrambles to the top rope, moving quickly despite the pain. He launches with a high splash and connects. Cover. One. Two. Roman kicks out at two and a half.]
Jim Ross: Jasper Ace nearly got him. That was his best chance of the match so far.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: Nearly only counts in horseshoes and bad excuses, JR.
Kris Gaffney: Jasper got two and a very angry forecast.
[Jasper gets up first and pulls Roman toward center. He hooks the head, looking for a quick cutter, but Roman shoves him away. Jasper rebounds off the ropes and Roman meets him with the Superman Punch, this time landing clean on the jaw. Jasper collapses backward, legs folding underneath him. Roman drops to one knee, staring down at him, then slowly rises and backs into the far corner. The building knows what is coming. Roman grips the top rope, lowers his body, and waits for Jasper to stir.]
Jim Ross: Superman Punch lands. Jasper Ace is in deep trouble now.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: Trouble? He is standing in the middle of the train tracks.
Kris Gaffney: And here comes the locomotive with excellent hair.
[Jasper pulls himself up on instinct, barely aware of where he is. Roman explodes from the corner with violent speed and cuts him in half with the Spear. The impact folds Jasper to the canvas and sends a shock through the crowd. Roman rolls through to his knees, then turns back and covers, hooking both legs deep as the referee slides into position. One. Two. Three.]
Jim Ross: Little Mac brings speed, heart, and those dangerous hands. He cannot afford to get trapped, but if he gets inside, he can change a match in a hurry.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: He had better change it fast, JR. The longer this goes, the more Sythe gets to turn him into lawn clippings.
Kris Gaffney: Little Mac is built like a stick of dynamite. The question is who lights the fuse first.
[The lights drop low and a harsh metallic scrape cuts through the arena as Sythe steps into view, tall and sinister, moving with a slow, crooked confidence. He drags one hand across his throat and tilts his head at Little Mac as if studying something he intends to dismantle piece by piece. The crowd boos the icy stare and predatory pace, but Sythe barely acknowledges them, choosing instead to walk down the ramp with his eyes fixed on the ring. He pauses at ringside, grips the middle rope, and pulls himself onto the apron with an unsettling calm. Once inside, Sythe circles Little Mac at a distance, fingers flexing, shoulders loose, his expression promising that every opening will be punished. He backs into his corner and leans there like a man waiting for prey to run itself tired.]
Jim Ross: Sythe has that reach and that patience. That is a dangerous combination against a fighter who wants to explode in short bursts.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: Patience is just another way of saying he knows Little Mac is going to make a mistake.
Kris Gaffney: Sythe looks like bad news learned how to stretch.
[The referee checks both corners and calls for the bell. Little Mac darts out first, circling low with his gloves tucked high, flicking a jab toward Sythe’s chest before sliding away from the counter. Sythe swipes with a long arm and misses as Mac ducks under, stepping inside with a quick body shot and a second jab to the ribs. Sythe turns and tries to corner him, but Mac pivots away, peppering him with another shot to the midsection. The crowd cheers the speed as Mac stays on his bicycle, never standing still long enough for Sythe to grab him. Sythe finally feints high and lashes a boot into Mac’s path, clipping the thigh and disrupting the footwork. Mac stumbles for a half step, and Sythe pounces with a clubbing forearm across the shoulders that drops him to one knee.]
Jim Ross: That is the first mistake. Sythe cut off the angle and made Little Mac pay.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: See? You can be fast, but you still have to be somewhere.
Kris Gaffney: Sythe just installed a speed bump.
[Sythe drags Mac up by the back of the head and slings him into the corner, following with a sharp back elbow that snaps Mac’s head against the turnbuckle. He leans in with a forearm across the jaw, grinding until the referee reaches four, then backs off with a smug little smile. Mac shakes his head clear and tries to punch his way out, landing two short shots to the ribs, but Sythe cuts him off with a knee to the stomach and a snapmare out of the corner. Mac lands seated and Sythe kicks him hard between the shoulder blades, then hooks a chinlock and pulls back, using his size to smother the smaller man’s movement. Mac kicks his legs and fights the grip, planting one glove on the mat and pushing to a knee as the crowd claps in rhythm. Sythe wrenches tighter, but Mac turns his chin, creates a sliver of space, and fires elbows backward until one catches Sythe under the cheekbone.]
Jim Ross: Little Mac has to keep fighting those hands. Sythe wants to slow this down and make it ugly.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: Ugly works. Pretty footwork does not help when someone is twisting your head off.
Kris Gaffney: Ugly is a style choice. Sythe wears it well.
[Mac breaks free and hits the ropes, ducking under a clothesline and coming back with a jumping forearm that rocks Sythe but does not drop him. Mac immediately follows with a left hook to the body, a right upstairs, and a rapid three punch combination that drives Sythe backward to a big pop. Sythe swings wild and Mac slips it, bouncing off the ropes again and landing a leaping uppercut that finally knocks Sythe down to one knee. Mac rushes in for the cover, but Sythe powers out at one and a half, shoving Mac off with authority. Mac rolls through, lands on his feet, and goes right back to the body with a hard shovel hook that makes Sythe grunt.]
Jim Ross: That is the formula. Punch in bunches, then move before Sythe can answer.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: The formula better include survival, because Sythe is getting angry.
Kris Gaffney: Angry Sythe sounds like a gardening tool with feelings.
[Sythe rises with a scowl and absorbs another jab just long enough to catch Mac by the wrist. Mac’s eyes widen as Sythe yanks him in and levels him with a short-arm clothesline that flips him to the mat. Sythe drops a knee across the ribs, then another, and covers with a forearm pressed across Mac’s face. One. Two. Mac kicks out. Sythe sits up and glares at the referee, then drags Mac toward the ropes and places his throat across the middle strand. The referee starts counting as Sythe leans with his boot across Mac’s upper back, choking him against the cable until four. Sythe releases and spreads his arms like he has done nothing wrong, drawing a wave of boos.]
Jim Ross: I do not like that at all. Sythe is using every bit of that count to create an unfair environment.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: The count exists to be used, JR. That is not unfair. That is time management.
Kris Gaffney: If Sythe had a calendar, every day would be marked bad decision.
[Sythe pulls Mac up and whips him hard into the far corner, then charges with a big boot. Mac rolls out at the last second and Sythe’s leg crashes over the top turnbuckle, leaving him hung awkwardly. Mac sees the opening and springs to life, ripping a body shot into the exposed ribs, then another, then a rapid burst of punches to the stomach that makes Sythe fold over the top rope. Mac backs away, shakes feeling into his shoulder, and charges with a running dropkick that sends Sythe spilling backward to the canvas. Mac climbs quickly to the second rope, measures, and leaps with a diving fist drop that lands square on Sythe’s chest. Cover. One. Two. Sythe kicks out.]
Jim Ross: Little Mac found his window and nearly turned it into the finish.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: Nearly is a cruel word, JR. It means you did all that work and still have to keep fighting.
Kris Gaffney: The receipt says two count, no refunds.
[Mac does not hesitate. He waits in his boxing stance as Sythe rises, bouncing lightly despite the punishment to his ribs. Sythe lunges forward, trying to grab him, but Mac slips underneath and fires a clean right hand to the jaw. Sythe staggers. Mac lands a left to the body, then a right cross, then another body shot. The crowd counts along as Mac unloads a blistering flurry, forcing Sythe back step by step. On the final punch, Sythe reaches through the storm and grabs Mac by the throat, stopping the momentum cold. The building gasps as Sythe lifts him for a choke slam, but Mac kicks his legs and hammers both gloves against Sythe’s wrist until the grip loosens. Mac drops behind him, hits the ropes, and returns with a chop block to the back of the knee that takes Sythe down.]
Jim Ross: Great escape by Little Mac. He was inches from being planted.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: Inches are all Sythe needs next time.
Kris Gaffney: Mac just canceled the flight before takeoff.
[Sythe pushes up angry, but the knee is now bothering him. Mac circles, jabs, and keeps the pressure smart, striking the body and stepping away from the long arms. Sythe tries to bait him into another charge by sagging near the ropes. Mac starts forward, then stops, recognizing the trap. Sythe snarls and rushes instead. Mac ducks the clothesline, rebounds off the ropes, and blasts Sythe with a jumping uppercut that snaps his head back. Sythe somehow stays upright, wobbling. Mac backs into the corner, the crowd rising as he pounds one glove into the other, loading up for the big shot.]
Jim Ross: Little Mac is measuring him. He knows Sythe is hurt.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: He had better hit this clean. If he misses, Sythe may take his head off.
Kris Gaffney: High risk, high punch, high dental bill.
[Sythe staggers toward center, swinging one desperate arm. Mac slips inside the arc, plants his feet, and explodes upward with the KO Punch, catching Sythe perfectly under the jaw. The impact snaps Sythe backward and drops him flat in the center of the ring. Mac collapses over him immediately, hooking both legs with every ounce of strength he has left as the referee slides into position. One. Two. Three.]
Jim Ross: Little Mac did it! KO Punch right on the button!
Jerry "The King" Lawler: I cannot believe he knocked Sythe down and kept him down.
Kris Gaffney: KO Punch confirmed. Sythe has left orbit.
(“Radio” blasts on the PA system. Zack Ryder walks out on the stage with his web camera. He walks down the isle he steps insides of the ring. He steps inside of the ring.)
JR-Zack Ryder enjoys competition, no matter who its against.
King-Seriously it’s against the law of X-Pac and Road Dogg.
Kris Gaffney-Guess you can have friendly competition after all…
(Animal sounds echo the arena when the lights go black. The lights turn on green and an image of a giant alligator moves up the ramp, when it gets to the top it bites down, fireworks shoot from the sage and from up in the rafters comes sliding Aari Maxwell comes sliding down. Once close enough he unclips himself, lands in the ring, rolls, jumps up ontop of the ring post and shouts "CRIKEY!" To the fans with his arms out. He jumps, springs off of the rope and does a backflip landing on his feet. Aari "The Zoo Keeper, slides into his corner, bends down wrapping his arms around the ropes with his back on the post smiling as he waits for the match to begin.)
JR-I would expect this to be a clean competitive match.
King-Despite it being a hardcore match…Hardcore Barcyzkowski is not a fan!
Kris Gaffney-You haven’t mentioned him in a while…
[Zack Ryder and Aari Maxwell pace around the ring, they lock up. Zack Ryder is able to slide out of the back, and he puts Aari Maxwell side head lock, but Aari Maxwell pushes him towards the ropes. Aari Maxwell connects with a release arm drag that sends him flying through the air, and he gets up to his feet, Aari Maxwell hits a quick snap suplex. Zack Ryder is slow to get up to his feet, and Aari Maxwell connects with a jaw breaker. Aari Maxwell runs towards the ropes, and he connects with a jaw breaker. Zack Ryder is in pain. Aari Maxwell goes to the ropes, and he spring boards into a cutter. Aari Maxwell goes into the cover on Zack Ryder. The ref goes into position tom ake the count, the ref counts 1……….2…….KICK OUT by Zack Ryder. Aari Maxwell hits a body slam after picking up Ryder.]
JR-It looks like Aari Maxwell is looking to hit a big move.
King-holds up a sign that says second rope fist drop.
Kris Gaffney-Ugh…
[Aari Maxwell goes for a 630 senton, but Zack Ryder moves out of the way. Aari Maxwell crashes into the mat. Zack Ryder and Aari Maxwell get up to their feet, Aari Maxwell goes for a fist, Zack Ryder runs toward sthe ropes, and he bounces off of the ropes. Zack Ryder connects with a flying forearm shot to the face that knocks him down on the mat. Zack Ryder waits for Aari Maxwell, he takes him down with double leg take down, and he connects with a catapult that send shim flying through the air, and he crashes into the turnbuckle. Aari falls into the seated position. Zack Ryder backs up, and he grins, he fist pumps (woo! Woo! Woo! ) Zack Ryder connects with a broski boot to the face. Zack Ryder calls for the Rough Ryder.]
JR-Zack Ryder is looking to end this match.
King-Crikey!
Kris Gaffney-Probably what Aari is thinking right now…
[Zack Ryder goes for the Rough Ryder, but Aari blocks it, and he connects with the Gorilla Strength!! Aari Maxwell goes into the cover on Zack Ryder. The ref goes into position to make the count. The ref counts 1……………2………..3!!]
JR-Aari Maxwell with a great counter to get the victory.
[Lights throughout the arena dim to near darkness, creating an atmosphere of suspense and anticipation. Suddenly, the sound of ticking clocks and whirring gears fills the air, building a sense of intrigue.]
[The entrance ramp and ring are illuminated with swirling lights that mimic the flow of time - colors shifting rapidly as if moving through different eras. Fog machines generate a thick mist across the ramp, adding to the mystical and otherworldly ambiance.]
[From the back emerges "Temporal" Travis Vortex, adorned in his eclectic time-traveler’s gear, with his crucial timepiece prominently displayed. He moves with a confident swagger, occasionally pausing as if momentarily disoriented or lost in time, adding to his eccentric character.]
[As the theme song "Time Has Come Today" by The Chambers Brothers plays, Travis interacts with the audience, sometimes pointing at his watch and gesturing wildly as if explaining a complex theory or a fragment of his latest adventure. His nephew, "Chrono" Charlie Quantum, follows, carrying the precious timepiece and trying to ensure Travis stays on track.]
Beautiful female announcer: "Ladies and gentlemen, presenting the enigma of eras, standing at 6’1” and weighing 210 pounds, the master of temporal tides... Temporal Travis Vortex!"
[Travis makes his way to the ring amidst the vibrant light show, with the fog swirling around him, creating an image of him stepping out of a time portal. Upon reaching the ring, he takes a moment to theatrically adjust his imaginary wristwatch, then leaps onto the apron and over the ropes with agility.]
[Once in the ring, Travis engages the crowd with charismatic gestures, occasionally slipping into his character's erratic mannerisms, while Charlie Quantum stands by, holding the timepiece and watching with a mix of amusement and concern.]
[The lights gradually stabilize as Travis's music fades, leaving him in the ring, ready to face his opponent in a match that promises to be as unpredictable and entertaining as his entrance.]
[div align="center"][video][/video][/div]
[As the opening beats of "Protect Ya Neck" by Wu-Tang Clan start to resonate throughout the arena, the lights dim to a moody, understated ambiance. A single spotlight focuses on the entrance ramp, creating a sense of anticipation and mystery.]
[The titantron flickers to life, displaying a montage of New York City’s shadowy streets and skylines, setting the stage for Billy Breeze’s entrance. The screen then transitions to a spectral figure moving through the darkness, New Yorks own vigilante, The Crimson Wraith.]
[Suddenly, a soft, blue glow illuminates the ramp, casting a cool, ghostly light. A thin layer of fog creeps along the floor, adding to the spectral atmosphere, suggesting the presence of something or someone not quite of this world.]
[Then, emerging from the back, Billy Breeze strolls out nonchalantly, his demeanor calm and composed, but with a readiness that you cannot train for. He’s dressed in his signature ring gear, exuding a quiet confidence. Rex "Retro" Savage follows behind, his flamboyant attire contrasting with Billy’s simplicity, playing up to the crowd and hyping them up.]
Beautiful female announcer: "Hailing from the shadows of New York City, here is the enigmatic, the unpredictable... Specter, Billy Breeze!"
[Billy’s walk to the ring is unhurried, his eyes scanning the crowd with a detached yet intense gaze. The spotlight follows him, keeping him the focal point amidst the dimly lit arena. He occasionally pauses, giving the audience a nod or a slight smirk, but his silence speaks volumes.]
[Upon reaching the ring, Billy slides in effortlessly, his movements fluid and precise. Rex "Retro" Savage takes a position at ringside, continuing to interact with the crowd and serve as Billy's charismatic mouthpiece.]
[The music and lights subtly shift as Billy prepares for the match, the fog dissipating and the spotlight fading, leaving Billy in the ring, a figure both enigmatic and ready for combat, as the arena buzzes with excitement for the upcoming match.]
JR-Travis Vortex is a former champion, he can be a champion again if he can get a title shot here, and go on to defeat the champion.
King-I think it’s unfair, he has like all the chances in the world.
Kris Gaffney-Yeah…one would think that.
The arena lights dim as an eerie hush falls over the crowd. The tension is palpable, the anticipation thick in the air. Then, the opening bassline of Stayin' Alive by the Bee Gees hits the speakers, and suddenly, the stage begins to rumble. A circular platform in the center of the ramp slowly rises, bathed in golden, flickering flames like a ritualistic summoning. From the depths below, Ziggy Thickness emerges, standing motionless atop the platform, arms folded across his chest, wearing oversized, dark-tinted sunglasses. His expression is impossibly serious, his stance almost menacing. The flames surrounding him flicker dramatically, casting ominous shadows across his frame.
He whips off his sunglasses and launches them into the crowd like a rockstar throwing a guitar pick. The second the glasses leave his hand, his entire demeanor shifts. Ziggy explodes into dance, his hips shimmying, his hands snapping, and his feet gliding in rhythm with the music. He struts down the ramp with the confidence of a 1970s disco king, slapping hands with fans, twirling dramatically, and even high-fiving a confused referee at ringside.
The ring announcer steps forward.
"Making his way to the ring, fighting out of the Boogie Wonderland! Weighing in at two hundred and sixty-five pounds of pure love, standing at a dangerous five feet and nine inches… he is The Prettiest Nightmare, Ziggy Thickness!"
Ziggy reaches ringside, hops up onto the apron, and wipes his forehead like he’s just put in a hard shift at Studio 54. With a dramatic deep breath, he slowly steps through the ropes before stopping in the center of the ring. Arms outstretched, he stands perfectly still for a moment, soaking in the energy of the crowd.
Without warning, he launches into a perfect backflip, landing with the grace of a gymnast and the confidence of a man who absolutely should not be that agile. The audience erupts in cheers as Ziggy raises his arms, basking in his own magnificence before casually moonwalking to his corner, giving a deep, over-the-top bow to the referee.
With a wink at the camera and a knowing smirk, Ziggy Thickness leans against the turnbuckle, ready for whatever comes next.
JR-Ziggy Thickness has main event a Pay Per View.
King-I’m certain he knew that was going to be steep climb being it was against a man who is already better than everyone else.
[Travis Vortex and Ziggy Thickness pace around the ring. They lock up Travis Vortex is able to put Ziggy into a arm bar. Ziggy Thickness counters with an arm drag that sends him flying through the air. Ziggy Thickness pushes him towards the corner, and he connects with a few shoulder blocks, and he brings Travis Vortex out of the corner, and he whips him to the ropes. Travis Vortex goes for a cross body block, but it’s caught by Ziggy Thickness, and he drops him with a rib breaker. Ziggy Thickness connects with a senton on Travis Vortex. Travis Vortex air get driven out of his body. Ziggy Thickness goes into the cover on Travis Vortex. The ref goes into position to make the count, the ref counts 1…………..2………KICK OUT by Travis Vortex!!]
JR-Travis Vortex is able to break up the count by kicking out.
King-That was a weird way to say that.
Kris Gaffney-Think JR’s been taken over by a robot or something?
[Travis Vortex is slow to get up to his feet, and once he gets up to his feet. Ziggy Thickness picks up Travis, but Travis Vortex slides out of the back. Travis Vortes pushes him towards the ropes, and he bounces off of the ropes. Travis Vortex connects with a hip toss, and then he follows it up with a hurricanarana that sends him flying across the ring. Ziggy Thickness rolls out of the ring, and he recovers, and Travis Vortex runs towards the ropes, and he bounces off of the ropes, and he leaps through the ropes, and he connects with a suicide dive! Travis Vortex grabs Ziggy Thickness, and he throws him into the ring, and Travis Vortex waits for Ziggy Thickness, and he drops him with a whiplash spine buster. Travis Vortex goes into the cover on Ziggy Thickness. The ref counts 1…………..2………..KICK OUT by Ziggy Thickness!!!]
JR-Ziggy Thickness kicks out!
King-You think the Maledictum are fans?
Kris Gaffney-Probably not….
[Ziggy Thickness is slow to get up to his feet Travis Vortex lifts up Ziggy, and he drops him with the Vortex Void Driver!! Ziggy Thickness it out of it. Travis Vortex goes into the cover on Ziggy Thickness. The ref goes into position tom ake the count. The ref counts 1………….2…………3!!]
JR-Travis Vortex gets the victory.
(The arena lights suddenly cut out, plunging everything into darkness. For a brief moment, the only sound is the murmur of the crowd, uncertain of what’s about to happen. Then, with a crackle of static, “My Way” by Frank Sinatra begins to play. But it’s not the smooth, classic version everyone knows—this one is slightly distorted, as if being played on an old, warbled record.
A lone spotlight flickers on, illuminating the entrance ramp where Jack "The Anarchist" Lynch stands, his silhouette stark against the chaos flashing on the titantron behind him—glitchy visuals of riots, fires, and carnage intercut with scenes from black-and-white films, all overlayed with the words "The Anarchist" in jagged, graffiti-style text.)
Announcer: Making his way to the ring. Fight from Wellington, New Zealand
. He stands 6'1" and weighs 230 pounds. He is The Anarchist, Jack Lynch!
(Jack takes a slow, deliberate step forward, his barbed-wire baseball bat resting casually on his shoulder. He wears a long, tattered trench coat covered in patches and scribbled phrases that look like they were done in a fit of madness. With each step, the crowd’s anticipation builds, his presence commanding yet erratic, like a ticking time bomb.
As he strides down the ramp, Jack’s grin is wide and manic, his eyes gleaming with the thrill of what’s to come. He stops suddenly, halfway down, as if a thought has just occurred to him. With a playful shrug, he pulls a flask from inside his coat, takes a swig, and sprays the liquid into the air. The mist catches the spotlight, creating a shimmering, chaotic halo around him as he continues toward the ring.
Reaching ringside, Jack doesn’t just walk up the steps like everyone else—no, that’s too predictable. Instead, he makes a sudden, wild dash toward the barricade, leaping onto it with the grace of a cat, balancing precariously on the edge. He taunts the crowd, swinging his bat playfully, then balances along the top of the barricade as if it were a tightrope, laughing all the while.
Finally, he jumps down and slides into the ring under the bottom rope, rolling to his feet in one fluid, exaggerated motion. He twirls his bat in his hand like a gunslinger ready for a duel, his eyes scanning the crowd as if daring anyone to challenge him.
Once inside, Jack heads straight for the nearest turnbuckle, leaping up onto it with a wild, unhinged energy. Perched there, he looks out over the crowd with a mix of madness and glee, as if soaking in the chaos he’s about to unleash. With a sudden, dramatic swing of his bat toward the titantron, the screen behind him glitches violently, flashing between images of destruction and his own maniacal grin.
Jack then hops down from the turnbuckle, casually tossing his bat to a ring crew member with a wink and a smirk, as if he’s just handed them a live grenade. He leans back against the ropes, whistling the last notes of "My Way" as if it’s all just a part of his twisted, chaotic day.)
JR-Jack Lynch knows that Patrick Payne knows how to win in the big moments.
King-But Jack Lynch has shown he can do the same thing.
Kris Gaffney-Both have unique styles.
[div align="center"][video][/bbvideo][/align]
The arena lights dim, and the opening beats of NSYNC's "Bye Bye Bye" blast through the speakers. As soon as the first note hits, bright spotlights flash in sync with the music, and a thick cloud of smoke rises from the stage. The crowd immediately erupts in a mix of cheers and laughter, knowing they’re in for something special. As the beat drops, multicolored fireworks explode around the stage, and through the smoke, Patrick Payne bursts out, dancing his way onto the stage like he’s straight out of a 90s boy band video. Patrick starts hitting the iconic "Bye Bye Bye" choreography, exaggerated and dripping with his own flavor. He smirks at the camera, pointing at random fans in the crowd, and moving with the beat like he’s starring in his own music video. He stops midway down the ramp, faking a pause, and then launches back into the dance, arms waving and hips moving as the crowd sings along to the chorus.
EMF Ring Announcer: From wherever he damn well pleases, standing 6 feet 1 inch tall, weighing in at 210 pounds he is the unpredictable, the unstoppable, Patrick ˜The PP Express Payne!!!
As the music continues, the lights flash in rhythm, and Patrick slides into the spotlight, twirling and dipping to the beat. Nearing the ring, he stops for a second, tilts his head toward the camera, and breaks into a final burst of the dance, fully embracing the ridiculousness of it all. Without breaking his flow, he leaps over the top rope with a fluid, acrobatic jump, landing in a perfect roll before bouncing right back into the Bye Bye Bye dance inside the ring. Patrick moves effortlessly, finishing his routine by running up the turnbuckle, arms wide, and executing a picture-perfect backflip off the top rope. As his feet hit the mat, he drops into a flawless superhero landing, kneeling down, one fist on the ground, with a cocky grin stretched across his face. He rises slowly, arms outstretched, soaking in the crowd’s reaction, while the music fades and the lights settle back to normal. The camera zooms in as Patrick winks at the audience, mouthing, "You’re welcome!" before leaning casually against the ropes, waiting for his match to begin.
JR-Patrick Payne however is more in his element.
King-That is true, Jack Lynch did seem to be at home when in the Extreme division.
Kris Gaffney-Did you just agree with JR?
King-I agree he sucks!
[Jack Lynch and Patrick Payne lock up. Patrick Payne goes behind Jack Lynch, and he takes him down after locking Jack Lynch into a side head lock. Jack Lynch looks for a way out of the hold, and Jack Lynch gets up to his feet, and Patrick Payne gets pushed to the ropes, and Jack Lynch whips him off fo the hope. Patrick Payne bounces off of the ropes. Patrick Payne connects with a shoulder block that puts him down on the mat. Jack Lynch is down on the mat, once he gets up to his feet. Patrick Payne kicks him into the gut, and he connects with a brain buster on Patrick Payne goes to the outside of the ring, and he climbs up to the top rope. Patrick Payne jumps off of the top rope, and he connects with the flight risk on Jack Lynch. Patrick Payne goes into the cover on Jack Lynch. The ref goes into position to make the count, the ref counts 1…………..2…….KICK OUT by Jack Lynch!!]
JR-Jack Lynch was able to kick out.
King-Patrick probably expected chaos, and is getting it here.
Kris Gaffney-That’s annoying.
[Jack Lynch is slow to get up to his feet, Patrick Payne kicks him in the gut, but Jack Lynch is able to spin out of the hold, and then Patrick Payne goes for a clothesline, but Jack Lynch ducks under. Patrick Payne turns around right into the Pandemonium kick that puts down Patrick Payne. Patrick Payne is down on the mat, and Jack Lynch takes a few moments to rest up, and once he gets up to his feet, Patrick Payne runs towards Jack Lynch, and he connects with a jumping clothesline, and he connects with it. Patrick Payne stumbles out of the corner after Jack Lynch backs out of the corner. Patrick Payne gets set up with a northern lights suplex with a bridge. The ref goes into position to make the count. The ref counts 1……………2…………KICK OUT by Patrick Payne. Jack Lynch gets up feeling the effects of the moves he’s taken, but he connects with a few stomps on the downed Patrick Payne.]
JR-Jack Lynch might be able to looking to end this match.
King-Sounds like order to me….
[Jack Lynch waits for Patrick Payne to get up to his feet. Jack Lynch lifts up Patrick Payne. Patrick Payne connects with a few back elbows, falls right into a set up, and Patrick Payne connects with the Payne Per View on Jack Lynch!! Patrick Payne goes into the cover on Jack Lynch. The ref goes into position to make the count. The ref counts 1………….2…………3!!]
JR-Patrick Payne fights out, and he gets the victory!
Jim Ross: Azar Vulcan looks absolutely locked in tonight. There is no nervous energy there, no wasted motion, just cold confidence wrapped around a dangerous athlete.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: Cold confidence? His name is Vulcan, JR. That man looks like he came straight out of a furnace.
Kris Gaffney: If intensity had a smoke detector, it would be screaming right now.
[The arena erupts in a very different kind of noise when CM Punk steps through the curtain, arms outstretched, chin raised, soaking in the reaction like a man who has spent his whole career turning pressure into oxygen. Punk pauses on the stage, smirks, then drops to one knee and checks the imaginary watch on his wrist before pushing himself up and starting down the ramp with swagger in every step. He slaps hands with fans leaning over the barricade, points at a sign with his name on it, and then turns back toward Azar in the ring with a grin that says he has already found something to pick apart. Punk takes his time at ringside, circling once, never taking his eyes off Azar for too long. He hops onto the apron, sits briefly on the middle rope like he is comfortable anywhere, then steps into the ring and climbs the second turnbuckle to throw both arms up. The reaction swells again. Punk drops down, turns, and walks right up to the center of the ring, stopping just short of Azar. He says something under his breath, smiling as he says it. Azar does not smile back.]
Jim Ross: CM Punk is one of the most experienced and dangerous competitors you can put in a ring. He knows how to get into a man’s head before the bell even sounds.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: He talks because it works. Half the time he beats you before he even touches you.
Kris Gaffney: Punk brought mind games. Azar looks like he brought a flamethrower to a chess match.
[The referee steps between them and gives final instructions, but Punk keeps talking over the official’s shoulder, pointing at Azar’s chest, then tapping his own temple. Azar remains silent, only staring. The referee forces separation, checks both men, and calls for the bell.]
[The bell rings and Punk immediately circles to his right, loose and light on his feet, throwing out a few feints to test Azar’s reactions. Azar follows with slower steps, cutting off space instead of chasing. Punk snaps a quick kick toward the thigh and lands it clean, then backs away before Azar can answer. Punk smirks, nods, and flicks another low kick that catches the same leg. Azar looks down once, then back up, expression unchanged. Punk steps in for a third kick, but Azar catches the leg this time and shoves Punk backward with enough force to send him rolling through to a knee. Punk pops up quickly, laughing it off, but the crowd reacts to the sudden show of power. Punk circles again, this time locking up in a collar and elbow tie-up. Azar immediately drives him back toward the ropes. Punk shifts his hips and tries to spin out, but Azar clamps down and shoves him into the ropes with a hard break. The referee calls for space. Azar releases clean, but Punk takes the opening to slap him across the face.]
Jim Ross: Punk just slapped Azar Vulcan, and I am not sure that was wise.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: Wise? Maybe not. Entertaining? Absolutely.
[Azar’s head turns with the slap, but only slightly. Punk backs away with both hands up, claiming innocence and telling the referee that Azar was crowding him. Azar steps forward and Punk ducks out to the floor, pacing with a grin while the crowd boos the delay. Azar stays in the ring, never chasing, only watching. Punk circles near the announce side, then slides in and immediately slides back out when Azar steps toward him. The boos grow louder. Punk points to his head and tells the front row he controls the tempo. Azar finally steps through the ropes to the apron, and Punk sees his chance, rushing forward to yank Azar’s leg out from under him. Azar lands hard on the apron edge, ribs catching the frame. Punk moves fast now, grabbing Azar by the head and snapping him throat first across the top rope before rolling back inside. Azar stumbles inward and Punk pounces with a running knee to the ribs, followed by a swinging neckbreaker that brings Azar down for the first real cover of the match. One. Azar powers out hard.]
Jim Ross: CM Punk baited him just long enough to create that opening. That is veteran instinct.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: See, JR, you called it stalling. I call it strategy with better shoes.
Kris Gaffney: Punk just turned a walk outside into a hostile business meeting.
[Punk does not waste the advantage. He slides into a grounded headlock, pressing his weight across Azar’s neck and jaw while keeping one knee planted near the shoulder. Azar tries to push up, but Punk shifts and drives a short elbow into the ribs, then another. Punk talks the whole time, telling Azar that silence is not strength and strength is not enough. Azar works to one knee, pushing against Punk’s grip, and Punk transitions to a front facelock, dragging him down again. Azar plants his hands and begins rising anyway, powering through the pressure until he reaches his feet. Punk senses the danger and releases just long enough to fire a knee into the midsection, then hits the ropes. Punk comes back with a running forearm, but Azar absorbs it and stays upright. Punk hits the ropes again. Azar steps in and levels him with a brutal shoulder tackle that turns Punk inside out. The building jolts with the impact.]
Jim Ross: That is the power Azar Vulcan brings. Punk hit him clean and Azar answered with a wall.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: Punk found out the wall was not load bearing. It was load delivering.
Kris Gaffney: Contact made. Warranty voided.
[Azar takes control for the first time, dragging Punk up by the wrist and whipping him hard into the corner. Punk hits the buckles chest first, stumbles backward, and Azar catches him with a high angle back suplex that dumps him on the upper shoulders. Punk rolls away, clutching the back of his head, but Azar stalks him with calm cruelty. He pulls Punk up, drives a knee to the ribs, then lifts him into a gutwrench and throws him across the ring with a suplex that sends Punk skidding toward the opposite ropes. Punk tries to roll out again, but Azar grabs him by the ankle and drags him back to center, dropping an elbow across the spine before Punk can escape. Azar hooks a cover. One. Two. Punk kicks out, sharp and frustrated.]
Jim Ross: Azar is not rushing. He is making each movement count and keeping Punk from resetting.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: That is smart. Do not let Punk breathe. If Punk breathes, he talks. If he talks, trouble starts.
Kris Gaffney: For once, silence may be an actual defensive strategy.
[Azar hauls Punk upright again, but Punk fires back with a quick thumb to the eye while the referee is slightly out of position. The crowd boos loudly as Azar recoils. Punk immediately follows with a sharp kick to the knee, another to the side of the head, and a snap DDT that plants Azar near center ring. Punk rolls him over and covers, hooking the near leg tight. One. Two. Azar kicks out. Punk sits up and argues with the official, holding up three fingers even though he knows better. The referee stands firm. Punk shifts back to Azar and begins stomping with precision, targeting the knee he kicked earlier, then dropping down into a leg lock that twists Azar’s ankle and knee inward. Azar grimaces for the first time, reaching toward the ropes, but Punk pulls him back and grapevines the leg, wrenching hard while shouting that giants fall when you take the foundation.]
Jim Ross: That thumb to the eye set this whole thing up. I do not like it. Punk is brilliant, but he does not need to create that kind of unfair environment.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: Need has nothing to do with it, JR. He did it because it worked.
Kris Gaffney: The foundation is currently filing a stress complaint.
[Azar claws toward the ropes inch by inch while Punk leans back with all his weight, twisting the leg and shaking his head with a grin. Azar reaches once and misses. Punk drags him backward again, but Azar rolls through suddenly and kicks Punk away with his free foot. Punk stumbles into the corner. Azar rises slowly, favoring the leg, and Punk charges right back at it. Azar catches him with a two handed shove that sends Punk spine first into the turnbuckles. Punk staggers out and Azar explodes with a short lariat, but the damaged leg slows the follow-up. Punk rolls through to the apron, grabs the top rope, and catches Azar coming in with a shoulder between the ropes. Punk springboards in for a clothesline, but Azar catches him midair and turns the flight into a punishing powerslam. Both men are down for a moment, the crowd roaring as Azar clutches his knee and Punk clutches his ribs.]
Jim Ross: What a counter by Azar Vulcan. Bad leg and all, he caught Punk out of the air and drove him through the canvas.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: That is the problem with flying. Sometimes the landing belongs to somebody else.
Kris Gaffney: Air traffic control has lost contact with Punk’s plan.
[Azar reaches his feet first and begins building momentum despite the limp. He pulls Punk up, hammers him with a forearm to the jaw, then another, each one heavier than the last. Punk tries to answer with a kick to the thigh, but Azar catches it again and spins Punk around into a release German suplex that lands high and ugly. Punk rolls to the corner, dazed. Azar charges in and crushes him with a running corner clothesline, then hooks him by the head and drives him down with a bulldog out of the corner. Azar covers. One. Two. Punk gets the shoulder up, but only just. Azar looks at the referee, then nods once, accepting the count without wasting breath.]
Jim Ross: Azar Vulcan is turning the tide with pure force and discipline.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: Discipline is fine. But when CM Punk is still breathing, the match is still dangerous.
Kris Gaffney: Punk is like a bad idea. Hard to kill and usually returns at the worst time.
[Azar drags Punk toward center and signals that he is ready to finish it. Punk senses danger and scrambles backward, grabbing the referee’s pants leg in the confusion as he pulls himself up. The official tries to free himself, and Punk uses that split second to kick Azar’s bad knee again. Azar buckles. Punk pops up and lands a roundhouse kick to the side of the head, then another that drops Azar to one knee. The crowd buzzes as Punk steps behind and hooks the arms for a possible double underhook backbreaker variation, but Azar powers out, throwing his shoulders wide and breaking the grip. Punk pivots quickly, hoists Azar partway onto his shoulders for the Go To Sleep, and the building rises in alarm. Azar elbows free before Punk can fully secure him, lands behind, and shoves Punk chest first into the ropes.]
Jim Ross: Punk went for the Go To Sleep, but he could not quite get Azar secured.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: That bad knee almost gave Punk the window he needed.
Kris Gaffney: Almost is the most expensive word in wrestling.
[Punk rebounds and Azar swings a lariat. Punk ducks under and hits the far ropes, returning with a jumping knee to the jaw that rocks Azar back into the corner. Punk follows with another high knee in the corner and grabs the head for the bulldog. He runs forward, but Azar shoves him off mid-motion and sends Punk chest first into the opposite buckles. Punk staggers backward. Azar wraps him around the waist and crushes him with another German suplex, this time holding the bridge despite the bad knee. One. Two. Punk kicks out and rolls away, breathing hard and now looking far less amused.]
Jim Ross: That bridge took something out of Azar too. He had to use the injured leg to hold it.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: He is paying for every big move now. Punk knows it.
Kris Gaffney: The receipt printer is smoking.
[Both men rise slowly. Punk swings first, throwing a forearm that lands. Azar answers. Punk lands a second, then ducks low and kicks the knee once more. Azar drops to a knee and Punk fires a sharp kick to the chest, then another, then winds up for a final kick to the head. Azar catches the leg before it lands, rises through the pain, and pulls Punk into a crushing spinebuster that flattens him at center ring. Azar roars for the first time, the crowd responding loudly as he slams a fist into the mat and forces himself upright. Punk crawls toward the ropes, but Azar grabs him by the wrist and drags him back to center. Punk tries to kick free, but Azar yanks him up and plants a headbutt square into the bridge of the nose. Punk stumbles glassy-eyed.]
Jim Ross: Azar caught the kick and made Punk pay for going back to the well one time too many.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: You keep kicking a man who’s better than you, you find out why hes better than you.
[I’m better than you and you know it” Is said over the loud speakers right before Lamb Of God- “Overlord” hits. The crowd erupts in boos as the lighting begins to flash green and gold. The ramp fills with images of money as Azar Vulcan steps out from the back with a smug grin on his face. He stops atop of the ramp laughing at the fans.]
Announcer: Ladies and gentleman, making his way to the ring, weighing in at 215 pounds and standing 5’11”. He is The EMF World Heavyweight Champion, The Best In The World, Azar “Mastermind” Vulcan!
Kris Gaffney: And then your insurance stops returning calls.
[Azar pulls Punk into position, hooking him under one arm and then the other, cinching a double underhook grip. Punk fights wildly, twisting his hips, trying to drop his weight, but Azar lifts with a guttural burst and swings him up into a high, brutal underhook slam that plants Punk hard on the canvas. Azar does not cover immediately. He rises, limping, and backs into the corner while Punk rolls onto his side, dazed and struggling to breathe. Azar lowers his stance, one hand on the middle rope, waiting. Punk uses the ropes to drag himself up, blinking through the fog. The crowd rises with him because they can feel the end moving toward them.]
Jim Ross: Azar Vulcan has him lined up. Punk may not know where he is.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: He knows enough to stand up, and that might be the mistake.
Kris Gaffney: Sometimes your instincts betray you with perfect timing.
[Punk turns and Azar connects with the Money Maker that drops CM PUnk. Azar rolls through to his knees, grimaces from the pain in his leg, then crawls back over Punk and hooks both legs deep, stacking the shoulders tight as the referee slides into perfect position.]
Jim Ross: Azar Vulcan connects with the Money Maker.
King-That's what happens when you are facing a man who's already better than everyone else.
[The referee counts. One. Two. Three.]
(Azar mocks Punks hometown crowd. Even hitting an extra stomp on the downed Punk as Shockwave goes off the air.)
