(The EMF logo flashes on the screen.)
(We open on 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, then 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 Shockwave. I’m good ol’ JR, Jim Ross. I’m joined by Jerry “The King” Lawler, and Kris “KG” Gaffney.
King-Tonight a fatal four way will determine various title races.
Kris Gaffney-Zack Ryder, Jack Lynch, Ragnar Ayerswindale, and Austin Jameson Mercer all have experience in what it is to be a champion.
King-Guess we’ll see who comes out on top.
JR-Lets get started with the first match of the night.
[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!
JR-The Wretched Nobody and Azar Vulcan have had a long history.
King-The Voice from the Shadows seemed to have a run in with Azar’s father.
Kris Gaffney-Hope it’s not Wasabi father….
King-Darth Vader? That guy is such a player, yet has no pick up lines…
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The arena lights dimmed as the crowd hushed. Smoke soon crawls across the canvas surrounding everyone in the ring, at ringside and the front rows of the audience who begin anticipating the arrival of The Wretched Nobody when the monitors all go static. A single spotlight shone on the center of the stage as a low, as the ominous tune filled the air. Suddenly, the sound of thunder roared through the speakers as the arena shook with each strike as thick red curtains parted, revealing a large black casket positioned in the center of the stage. "Marche Funèbre MMXXIII" begins to play, the casket starts to rise slowly from the stage, flickering in and out of sight with each flash of strobe lights. As the casket ascended, smoke began to pour out of its cracks and crevices, creating an eerie atmosphere. Suddenly, the lid of the casket burst open, revealing a thick mist from which a massive hand shot out from the depths of the casket, grabbing onto the edge and pulling The Wretched Nobody out of his resting place. The crowd erupted in cheers as The Wretched Nobody emerged from the casket, which fell away in pieces as he stood up towering over seven feet tall and covered in various tattoos and scars. The Wretched Nobody paced back and forth, staring down at the ring with an unflinching glare. The Wretched Nobody broke step as the lights flicker again, as he strides down the ramp, ignoring the fans' outstretched hands and taunts.
Ring Announcer: Making his way down the aisle THE DARK STAR OF EMF! hails from The Danvers State Lunatic Asylum, Salem Massachusetts and at Six Foot Eleven inches tall – at Four Hundred and Twenty Pounds he is… he is Your former Six Time EMF Heavyweight Champion of the Woooooorld! DEATH HIMSELF! THE WRETCHED NOBODY!
As he approached the ring, bolts of electricity shot out from the turnbuckles, illuminating the darkness around him. The Wretched Nobody climbed up onto the apron, peering down his opponent with a look of pure disdain. Wretch easily stepped over the top rope and made his way to the center of the ring, where he raised his arms and let out a guttural roar. The crowd responded with deafening cheers, their excitement building to a fever pitch. The Wretched Nobody rocks side to side, staring down his opponent ready to charge forward, to unleash his wrath upon anyone who dares to stand in his way.
JR-The Wretched Nobody has been waiting for this moment.
King-When you face someone better than you, you convince yourself you have a chance!
[The Wretched Nobody and Azar Vulcan stand off in the middle of the ring, and they throw fists to the face. Neither wrestlers are backing up. Azar Vulcan ducks one of the fists, and he runs otwards the ropes, and he bounces off of the ropes. The Wretched Nobody grabs Azar Vulcan around the throat, and then he lifts him up, but Azar Vulcan is able to get free. The Wretched Nobody turns around, Azar Vulcan pokes the Wretched Nobody in the eyes. The Wretched Nobody stumbles backwards, the Azar Vulcan connects with a clothesline that sends the Wretched Nobody and Azar Vulcan out of the ring. The Wretched Nobody and Azar Vulcan starts to brawl through out the arena. The ref tries to get them back into the ring, but things have gotten out of control. The ref throws out the match (neither win or lose).]
JR-It seems this has gotten out of controlled.
King-I’m not surprised…
(The Wretched Nobody and Azar battle as they try to break them, but can’t as it goes to commercial, and we come back.)
(“I am greatness” blasts on the PA system. Roman Reigns walks out on the stage, he holds up a one to the sky, he walks down the isle, and he steps inside of the ring.)
JR-Roman Reigns knows what he’s going to get in Punk.
King-There is a lot of personal here.
Kris Gaffney-Seems everyone hates Punk…it’s a thing.
(“Cult of Personality” blasts on the PA system. CM Punk walks out on the stage does his taunts, and he walks down to the ring.)
JR-CM Punk is always going to make headlines.
King-You know that’s what he wants to do here.
[CM Punk and Roman Reigns stand up CM Punk throws a kick to the side of the head. Roman Reigns stubmles backwards. Roman Reigns throws a wild fist to the face, but CM Punk ducks under, and he connects with a few fists to the face, and he attempts to whip him to the ropes, but it’s reversed. CM Punk bounces off of the ropes, and Roman Reigns lowers his head, and he connects with a with a swinging neck breaker that puts him down on the mat. Roman Reigns gets up, and he falls into the corner, and CM Punk runs, and he connects with a knee to the face, and Roman Reigns stunned. CM Punk connects with a running bulldog that drops Roman Reigns. CM Punk waits for Roman reigns to get up to his feet.]
JR-CM Punk is looking to end this.
King-That’s not acknowledging him!
[Roman Reigns gets up to his feet, he picks him up. But Roman Reigns slides out of the back, and he connects with a superman punch that makes CM Punk fall into the ropes, and Roman Reigns connects with a spinning spine buster. Roman Reigns goes into the cover on CM Punk. The ref goes into position to make the count. The ref counts 1………….2………..KICK OUT by CM Punk. Roman goes into the corner, and he waits for CM Punk.]
JR-Roman Reigns has turned this match around.
King-Now that’s acknowledging.
Kris Gaffney-Its making Roman look STRONG!
[Roman Reigns runs out of the corner, but CM Punk connects with a kick, and he lifts up Roman, CM Punk connects with the GTS. CM Punk goes into the cover on Roman Reigns. The ref goes into position to make the count. The ref counts 1………..2………..3!!]
JR-CM Punk gets the win.
(“Game On” blasts on the PA system. Tony Ikeda walks out on the stage, and he steps inside of the ring.)
JR-Tony is going to have to deal with the speed of Sythe.
King-Yeah, that’s one thing survival doesn’t help.
Kris Gaffney-Ha! He’s slow because he’s old!
The opening notes of "Attitude" by The Misfits blast through the arena as the lights flicker and strobe. The entire crowd erupts into cheers and excitement as Sythe appears at the entrance ramp.
JR-Sythe is going to hope to have this story to tell if he can beat the world champion.
King-That would be massive for him.
[Tony Ikeda and Sythe pace around the ring. Sythe lock up with Tony Ikeda, Sythe takes him down with an arm drag. Tony Ikeda gets up to his feet, and Sythe connects with a standing drop kick that puts down Tony Ikeda. Sythe connects with a few fists to the face. Sythe whips him to the ropes, and he bounces off of the ropes. Tony Ikeda bounces off of the ropes. Sythe connects with a one man flap jack that sends him flying into the mat. Tony Ikeda is slow to get up to his feet. Sythe connects with a impaler DDT. Tony Ikeda is down on the mat, Sythe goes into the cover on Tony Ikeda. The ref counts 1………..2………KICK OUT by Tony Ikeda!!]
JR-Almost three!
King-Sythe is impressing tonight.
Kris Gaffney-If he wins thinks this will be a movie?
[Tony Ikeda is slow to get up to his feet, Sythe picks up Tony Ikeda. Tony Ikeda pushes him towards the ropes, and he bounces off of the ropes. Sythe gets hit with a spine buster. Tony Ikeda takes a few moments to rest up, and once he gets up to his feet, Tony Ikeda connects with a full nelson slam. Tony Ikeda takes a few moments to rest up, and he calls for the end of the match.]
JR-Tony Ikeda looks to end this match.
King-Watch out Sythe, he can out live you.
[Tony Ikeda allows Sythe to get up to his feet. Tony Ikeda sets up Sythe, Tony Ikeda connects with a full nelson suplex!! Tony Ikeda goes into the cover on Sythe. The ref goes into position to make the count, the ref counts 1………..2………..3!!]
JR-Tony Ikeda gets the victory.
[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.]
JR-Mansa Carthage power, and size are going to be a trouble.
King-But not against…GOD!
Kris Gaffney-Ugh…
(“The duck song” blasts on the PA system. Kenny Omegrape glides down in a Melon Parachute. He lands, but he’s covered over by it.)
JR-This isn’t an open aired stadium, where did Kenny come from?
King-Truly the work of the Melon Gods!
Kris Gaffney-I’m certain…
[Mansa Carthage and Kenny Omegrape stand in the middle of the ring. Mansa Carthage talks trash, and Kenny Omegrape gives Mansa Carthage great fruit knowledge. Mansa doesn’t like this at all, and he connects with a big head butt that puts down Kenny Omegrape. Kenny Omegrape gets picked up, and he gets whipped to the ropes, Mansa Carthage lower his head, and he connects with a back body drop Mansa Carthage waits for Kenny Omegrape, and he connects with a super man punch. But he knows he’ll have to do more to Kenny Omegrape, Mansa Carthage grabs him around the throat, and he lifts him up, and he drops him with a choke slam!! Mansa Carthage goes into the cover on Kenny Omegrape. The ref counts 1…………..2……….KICK OUT by Kenny Omegrape.]
JR-Kenny Omegrape was able to kick out.
King-It was destiny JR!
Kris Gaffney-Mansa Carthage shouldn’t have bothered to do the choke slam….
[Kenny Omegrape gets up to his feet Kenny gets grabbed around the throat, and Kenny Omegrape lifts him up. Kenny Omegrape connects with a DDT into the mat. Mansa Carthage is down on the mat, and Kenny Omegrape is slow to get up to his feet. Once he gets up to his feet. Kenny Omegrape connects with a running drop kick in the corner, Kenny Omegrape gets up, and he see’s that Mansa Carthage is stumbles towards him, Kenny Omegrape connects with a one handed face crusher. Mansa Carthage bounces up, and Kenny Omegrape connects with a running knee to the face. Mansa Carthage goes down. Kenny OMegrape goes itno the cover on Mansa Carthage. The ref goes itno position to make the count. The ref counts 1…………..2……….KICK OUT by Mansa Carthage!!]
JR-Kenny Omegrape is taking it to Mansa Carthage.
King-Mansa thought he was temping fate when he jumped off a cliff one time, he wasn’t ready to face GOD!
Kris Gaffney-Not exactly something most people are ready for.
[Kenny Omegrape waits for Mansa Carthage, and he sets him up, but Mansa Carthage is able to spin out, and he lifts up Kenny Omegrape, and he drops him with a Dragons descend!! Mansa Carthage holds Kenny Omegrape into a pin. The ref goes into position to make the count. The ref counts 1…………..2………….3!!]
JR-Mansa Carthage gets the victory.
(“The duck song” blasts on the PA system. Walter Melon walks out on the stage, and he walks down the isle he steps inside of the ring.)
JR-This is match of two former Extreme Champions.
King-But only one has GOD on his side.
Kris Gaffney-Well when Ragnar is facing him…its not the Melon Gods, maybe he thought it was a useless strategy.
(As the lights in the arena plunge into darkness, an eerie silence descends over the crowd. The faint sound of wind howling fills the air, sending shivers down spines. Suddenly, the opening notes of "Wolf Totem" by The HU (featuring Jacoby Shaddix) thunder through the speakers, primal and haunting. A blood-red light floods the entrance ramp, illuminating a swirling mist of smoke that creeps along the ground like tendrils of something alive.
The screen above the stage flickers to life, showing the silhouette of a massive wolf prowling through a dark forest. As the beat drops, bursts of flame erupt from the stage, casting wild shadows across the arena. Through the flames and smoke emerges Fenrir Kaine, "The Demonic Werewolf." His imposing frame is silhouetted against the fiery backdrop, his head lowered, and his crimson eyes glinting beneath his hooded brow.
Ring Announcer: Now making his way to the ring! Fighting out of the Shadows of the Abyss! Weighing in at two hundred and ninety-five pounds and standing six feet and four inches tall! He is "The Demonic Werewolf" FENRIR KAINE!
Fenrir’s presence is palpable, an aura of raw, predatory menace that freezes the audience in place. As he begins his slow, deliberate march down the ramp, the flames on stage ignite once more, illuminating his every step. The red lights follow him like a spotlight, casting a sinister glow over his powerful frame. The mist clings to his boots as if the darkness itself refuses to let him go.
He reaches the ring steps and pauses, turning his gaze to the crowd. Their boos and jeers are drowned by the pulsating rhythm of his theme song, yet Fenrir remains unfazed. A low, guttural growl escapes his lips as he climbs the steps and enters the ring.
Once inside, Fenrir moves to the center of the ring, his massive frame towering over the referee. He throws back his head and lets out a bone-chilling howl, synchronized with a final burst of flame erupting from the ring posts. The lights flicker back to full brightness, but the chilling aura lingers as Fenrir Kaine removes his hood and glares out at the crowd with predatory intent.
He moves to his corner, leaning against the turnbuckle like a wolf surveying its prey, waiting for the match to begin. The arena buzzes with tension, every eye fixed on the terrifying force that is Fenrir Kaine.)
JR-Fenrir Kaine is going to need to use his advantages.
King-Walter Melon is not always use to out quicking people, thankfully the Melon Gods can give him that
Kris Gaffney-Oh…they can now?
[Walter Melon and Fenrir Kaine pace around the ring, and they pace up, and Fenrir Kaine pushes him backwards. Fenrir Kaine follows him, and he connects with a clothesline over the top rope. Walter Melon gets up, he see’s Ashley Irvine with a comically large fake mustache. Ashley yells WATER MELON!! Walter Melon jumps on the apron, Fenrir Kaine goes over to Walter Melon, and Walter counters with a shoulder block. Fenrir Kaine stumbles backwards, Walter Melon sling shots himself over the top rope, and he runs right into a super kick that drops Walter Melon.]
JR-Walter Melon got dropped right there.
King-The Melon Gods put that super kick there.
Kris Gaffney-Interesting what they do to their followers
[Walter Melon is slow to get up to his feet, and Fenrir Kaine throws Walter Melon to the ropes, and he bounces off of the ropes. Walter Melon is able to counter with a DDT into the mat. Walter Melon takes a few moments to rest. Fenrir Kaine, and Walter Melon gets up to their feet. Fenrir Kaine throws a wild fist to the face. Walter Melon ducks under, and Fenrir Kaine turns around, and Walter Melon connects with an inverted atomic drop that puts him down on the mat. Walter Melon gets up, and he waits for Fenrir Kaine to get up to his feet. Fenrir Kaine gets hit with a spitting seeds on Walter Melon. Walter Melon goes into the cover on Fenrir Kaine. The ref goes into position to make the count, the ref counts 1…………..2……….KICK OUT by Fenrir Kaine!!]
JR-Fenrir Kaine is able to kick out.
King-The Melon Gods are wise!
Kris Gaffney-……..
[Walter Melon waits as Fenrir Kaine gets up. Walter Melon picks up Fenrir Kaine. Fenrir Kaine lifts him Walter Melon turns around Fenrir Kaine lifts him up, and he connects with Eclipse Driver on Walter Melon. Fenrir holds Walter into a pin. The ref goes into position to make the count. The ref counts 1…………..2……………3!!]
JR-Fenrir Kaine gets the victory!
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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 has been the champion before.
King-He needs to get pass Joey to have another shot at it.
Kris Gaffney-We’ll see how he does.
The arena lights slowly dim… not to black, but to a deep amber hue, casting long shadows across the entrance stage. A single spotlight hits the curtain. Then—
“And I heard, as it were, the noise of thunder…”
Johnny Cash’s voice rolls out slow, cold, and final. “The Man Comes Around” begins—no pyro, no flash, just presence. The kind of presence that makes grown men sit up straight and keep their mouths shut.
Joey Bellarosa steps through the curtain with the confidence of a man who doesn’t walk—he arrives.
He’s dressed in a custom-fitted, jet-black suit. No tie. Collar loose. A single gold chain rests across his chest. He adjusts the cuffs on his jacket, like he’s preparing for a meeting—not a fight.
Flanking him are two women: Seraphine Quinn and Rosa Milioti.
Seraphine walks like a queen, calm and composed, her gaze forward, never breaking focus. Rosa, on the other side, chews gum, smirks, and scans the crowd like she’s daring someone to make eye contact. Together, they don’t follow Joey—they orbit him.
Smoke creeps across the floor like fog rolling in from the streets. The spotlight stays fixed on Joey as he slowly makes his way to the ring, never looking left or right. The crowd? They’re not booing. They’re not cheering. They’re watching. Respectfully. Nervously.
As the music swells—
“Whoever is unjust, let him be unjust still…”
Joey reaches the ring steps and pauses. He removes his jacket, folds it with care, and hands it to Seraphine, who takes it without a word. Rosa cracks her knuckles and leans against the barricade, eyes still scanning the crowd.
Joey wipes his boots on the apron—not out of respect for the ring, but because this is his house, and you don’t walk filth across your own floors.
He enters the ring slow. Controlled. No wasted motion. He walks to the center and stands still, eyes down. When the music hits the final verse—
“…and behold, a pale horse. And his name that sat on him was Death…”
Joey lifts his chin. Stares dead into the hard cam. No emotion. No expression. Just the eyes of a man who’s already decided how this ends.
And then—
Samantha Irvin’s voice echoes with reverence and weight.
"Introducing… from Brooklyn, New York… weighing in at 245 pounds… he is The Don… JOEYYYYYY… BELLAROSA!"
He doesn’t move. Doesn’t flinch. Just stands in the center of the ring while the lights return to full.
Because the match hasn’t started.
Not yet.
Joey’s just letting you understand what you stepped into.
This isn’t hype.
This is business.
And business is about to be handled.
JR-Joey has challenged for the title.
King-I’m certain that he wants to change how those matches went.
[Joey Bellarosa and Patrick Payne stand in the middle of the ring. Patrick Payne and Joey Bellarosa throw fists to the face, neither one of them are backing up. Patrick Payne ducks under one of them, and he runs towards the ropes, and he comes off of the ropes, and Joey Bellarosa connects with a jumping forearm shot to the face, and Patrick Payne gets up to his feet, and once he gets up to his feet. Once he gets up to his feet, he is dropped with the Mafia kick to the side of the head. Patrick Payne goes down on the mat. Joey Bellarosa goes into the cover. The ref counts 1………….2…………KICK OUT by Patrick Payne!!]
JR-Patrick Payne was able to kick out.
Kris Gaffney-Guess he didn’t get enough payne.
King-You know…if Max Gunner ever returns if they Patrick and him become a tag team they can be Max Payne.
Kris Gaffney-Ha!
[Patrick Payne is slow to get up to his feet, and once he gets up to his feet. Joey Bellarosa lifts him up, but before he can hit a move, Patrick Payne connects with a few elbows to the side of the head. Patrick Payne pushes Joey to the ropes, and he bounces off of the orpes. Patrick Payne connects with a spinning spine buster. Patrick Payne takes a few moments to res tup, and Joey Bellarosa gets up to his feet, and he gets knocked down with a clothesine, and then another one. Joey Bellarosa goes for a fist to the face, and he connects with a body slam, he goes to the outside o fthe ring, and he climbs up to the top rope. Patrick Payne connects with the flight risk. Patrick Payne goes into the cover on Joey. The ref goes into position to make count 1………..2…………KIKC OUT by Joey!!]
JR-Almost three.
King-Patrick is bringing the payne
Kris Gaffney-and friendship!
[Joey Bellarosa is slow to get up to his feet, and he kick shim in the gut, and he lifts him up, and he drops Joey with a Payne Per View!! Joey Bellarosa is out of it. Patrick goes into the cover on Joey. The ref goes into position to make the count. The ref counts 1………….2…………3!!]
JR-Patrick Payne gets the victory!
(“Radio” blasts on the PA system. Zack Ryder walks out on the stage with his web camera. He steps inside of the ring, and he waits for his opponent.)
JR-Zack Ryder experience, and skills should help him in such a match.
King-Although, he is going against quite the field in this match.
Kris Gaffney-Strong, Chaos, and evil Hollywood.
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[As the unmistakable opening notes of "Money" by Pink Floyd begin to ecFho through the arena, a grandiose display of gold and green laser lights crisscrosses the space, creating an atmosphere of opulence and exclusivity. The entire arena is bathed in a luxurious glow, mimicking the sheen of gold.
The titantron springs to life, showcasing a dazzling montage of Hollywood's most glamorous moments: red carpets, flashing camera lights, and premiere nights, all leading up to the marquee name, "Austin Jameson Mercer," emblazoned across the screen in bold, shimmering letters.
Simultaneously, the entrance ramp transforms into a visual spectacle, resembling a premiere night red carpet. A line of spotlight-equipped drones flies overhead, casting down beams of light that spotlight the path, while confetti cannons strategically positioned at the sides of the ramp blast gold and silver confetti, fluttering down like a cascade of wealth.
Then, with a flair that only he can muster, "Hollywood" Austin Jameson Mercer steps out, clad in a custom-tailored robe that sparkles under the lights, his confident stride in sync with the rhythm of the song. He pauses at the top of the ramp, soaking in the adulation, a smirk playing across his lips as he surveys his domain.]
Beautiful female announcer: "Making his grand entrance from Beverly Hills, California, standing at six feet two inches and weighing in at two hundred thirty-five pounds... He is the blockbuster sensation of the wrestling world, the “Pretty Boy”, 'Hollywood' Austin Jameson Mercer!"
[Austin then makes his way down the ramp, each step calculated to maximize the dramatic effect of his presence. Personal security guards, dressed in sleek suits, flank him, adding to the aura of untouchable celebrity status. He occasionally stops to pose for the "cameras," his every move oozing the charisma and confidence of a true movie star.
Upon reaching ringside, Austin takes a moment to gaze out at the crowd, offering a cocky wave before he discards his robe, revealing his wrestling gear beneath, adorned with gold trim that catches the light perfectly. He ascends the stairs and steps through the ropes with an air of entitlement, as if the ring were his personal stage.
The music fades, the lights gradually return to normal, and the confetti settles, leaving Austin Jameson Mercer standing center-ring. He stretches out his arms, welcoming the audience to his show, a smug smile on his face, ready to prove once again why he is the premier attraction, as the arena buzzes with anticipation for the spectacle to come.]
[video size="small" src=""][/video]
[As the unmistakable opening notes of "Money" by Pink Floyd begin to ecFho through the arena, a grandiose display of gold and green laser lights crisscrosses the space, creating an atmosphere of opulence and exclusivity. The entire arena is bathed in a luxurious glow, mimicking the sheen of gold.
The titantron springs to life, showcasing a dazzling montage of Hollywood's most glamorous moments: red carpets, flashing camera lights, and premiere nights, all leading up to the marquee name, "Austin Jameson Mercer," emblazoned across the screen in bold, shimmering letters.
Simultaneously, the entrance ramp transforms into a visual spectacle, resembling a premiere night red carpet. A line of spotlight-equipped drones flies overhead, casting down beams of light that spotlight the path, while confetti cannons strategically positioned at the sides of the ramp blast gold and silver confetti, fluttering down like a cascade of wealth.
Then, with a flair that only he can muster, "Hollywood" Austin Jameson Mercer steps out, clad in a custom-tailored robe that sparkles under the lights, his confident stride in sync with the rhythm of the song. He pauses at the top of the ramp, soaking in the adulation, a smirk playing across his lips as he surveys his domain.]
Beautiful female announcer: "Making his grand entrance from Beverly Hills, California, standing at six feet two inches and weighing in at two hundred thirty-five pounds... He is the blockbuster sensation of the wrestling world, the “Pretty Boy”, 'Hollywood' Austin Jameson Mercer!"
[Austin then makes his way down the ramp, each step calculated to maximize the dramatic effect of his presence. Personal security guards, dressed in sleek suits, flank him, adding to the aura of untouchable celebrity status. He occasionally stops to pose for the "cameras," his every move oozing the charisma and confidence of a true movie star.
Upon reaching ringside, Austin takes a moment to gaze out at the crowd, offering a cocky wave before he discards his robe, revealing his wrestling gear beneath, adorned with gold trim that catches the light perfectly. He ascends the stairs and steps through the ropes with an air of entitlement, as if the ring were his personal stage.
The music fades, the lights gradually return to normal, and the confetti settles, leaving Austin Jameson Mercer standing center-ring. He stretches out his arms, welcoming the audience to his show, a smug smile on his face, ready to prove once again why he is the premier attraction, as the arena buzzes with anticipation for the spectacle to come.]
JR-Austin Jameson Mercer is going to look to regain the World championship if he can.
King-He has a chance to get on that road tonight.
Kris Gaffney-But first he needs the first fall
The arena lights dim, plunging the space into an anticipatory darkness. A hushed silence falls over the crowd, broken only by the distant sound of thunder. Suddenly, the opening notes of "Medieval Viking Music - For Honor (Ft. Peyton Parrish)" resonate through the speakers, their haunting melody echoing in the vastness of the arena.
As the music swells, the titantron flickers to life, displaying a mist-covered Nordic landscape. Towering mountains and dense, shadowy forests under a twilight sky fill the screen, creating an atmosphere of ancient, rugged wilderness.
Amidst this mystical backdrop, scenes of Viking lore begin to unfold on the titantron. Images of longships sailing through stormy seas, warriors brandishing shields and axes, and ethereal figures of Valkyries descending from the heavens captivate the audience, weaving a tale of epic battles and Norse mythology.
A deep, bellowing horn sounds, reminiscent of a Gjallarhorn, heralding the approach of a warrior. The crowd stirs with excitement as a lone figure emerges from the backstage, his silhouette imposing and powerful.
Ragnar Ayerswindale steps into the light, his figure colossal and commanding. He stands for a moment at the top of the ramp, surveying the arena with a calm, unyielding gaze. His attire, a fusion of traditional Viking elements and modern combat gear, complements his muscular build, and Norse runes glint on his gear under the arena lights.
As he begins his descent down the ramp, the music intensifies. The titantron shows images of thunderous battles juxtaposed with serene, majestic landscapes of the Nordic fjords, symbolizing the duality of Ragnar's nature – both a fierce warrior and a stoic guardian of ancient traditions.
Ragnar's movements are deliberate and measured, exuding confidence and a sense of purpose. He occasionally pauses to make eye contact with fans, his expression unchanging, an embodiment of the calm before the storm.
Reaching the ring, Ragnar ascends the steel steps with ease. He stands on the apron for a moment, closing his eyes as if to draw strength from the gods themselves. Then, with a swift and fluid motion, he steps over the top rope and enters the ring.
The music reaches a crescendo, and Ragnar raises his arms, acknowledging the crowd and the arena. The Norse imagery on the titantron gives way to a single, ancient rune, glowing brightly as if imbued with mystical power.
As the music fades and the lights return to normal, Ragnar begins his pre-match ritual, a silent nod to the Viking warriors of old. The arena buzzes with anticipation, the presence of this modern-day Viking leaving an indelible mark on all who witness his entrance.
JR-Ragnar Ayerswindale is a former IC champion.
Kris Gaffney-So its all good for him, if he can gets either fall he’s either on a road back to the title he lost, or moving to a new challenge.
King-I should call the Melon Club, and see if they have openings, like they were willing to do Grape Brutal, who knows…maybe they’ll let him in.
(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-Chaos will reign, and Jack Lynch has proven that’s where he excels.
King-Like Ralph Wiggum, and sleeping.
Kris Gaffney-HA! Simpson reference
[Austin Jameson Mercer, Ragnar Ayerswindale, Jack Lynch and Zack Ryder stand in the midde of the ring. The bell rings, and the wrestlers brawl, Jack Lynch and Ragnar Ayerswindale fall out of the ring. Austin Jameson Mercer is on the roeps as Zack Ryder hits fists to the face, and Austin Jameson Mercer connects with a poke eyes that makes him fall backwards. Austin Jameson Mercer grabs Zack Ryder, and he throws him hard into the ring post. Zack Ryder falls out of the corner, and he gets up slow. Zack Ryder gets hits a kick to the gut, and he connects with a world premiere with a bridge. The ref goes into position to make the count, the ref counts 1……………2……….KICK OUT by Zack Ryder!!]
JR-Austin Jameson Mercer could have gotten the win right there.
King-You can’t count out Zack Ryder, especially when it’s early.
Kris Gaffney-That’s true, Ryder will always give you a fight.
[Austin Jameson Mercer gets up to his feet, Jack Lynch hits a kick to the gut, and he plants him down on the mat with a DDT into the mat. Jack Lynch grabs Zack Ryder, and he throws him out of the ring, and he crashes into the mat. Austin Jameson Mercer is slow to get up to his feet. Jack Lynch connects with the Pandemonium Kick that drops Austin Jameson Mercer. Jack Lynch goes into the cover on Austin Jameson Mercer, the ref goes itno position to make the count, the ref counts 1…………..2………..Ragnar Ayerswindale comes out of no where, and he tries to break up the 3 count, but at the last moment Jack Lynch moves out of the way, and he hits into Austin Jameson Mercer.]
JR-Ragnar Ayerswindale broke up the three count.
King-Not quite how he wanted to though…
Kris Gaffney-It’s at least effective.
[Jack Lynch picks up Ragnar, and he lifts him up on his shoulder, and Ragnar Ayerswindale is able to struggle out of the back. Jack Lynch turns around, and Ragnar connects with a reverse jaw breaker. This puts Jack Lynch into the ropes, and Ragnar Ayerswindale runs, and he connects with a clothesline over the top rope. Ragnar Ayerswindale goes into the corner, and he measures up on Zack Ryder, and he connects with a Gunginar Spear on Zack Ryder!! Ragnar Ayerswindale goes into the cover on Zack Ryder, the ref goes into position to make the count. The ref counts 1……….2……Austin Jameson Mercer connects with the Final Cut on Ragnar and Ryder!! Ragnar rolls out of the ring. Austin goes into the cover on Zack Ryder, the ref goes into position to make the count, the ref counts 1………..2…………3!!]
JR-Austin Jameson Mercer gets the first fall!
King-I’m certain the Maledictum is a fan of this situation.
Kris Gaffney-I bet
[Zack Ryder is in pain and he gets picked up, by Jack Lynch, and Zack Ryder is able slide out of the back of Jack Lynch. Zack Ryder pushes Jack Lynch into the corner. Zack Ryder runs into the corner, and he connects with a lcothelsine in the corner. Zack Ryder backs up, Jack Lynch stumbles around, and he falls into a seated position, and Zack Ryder grins, and he back ups. He fists pumps (woo! Woo! Woo!) Zack Ryder connects with the Broski boot to the side of the face on Jack Lynch. Jack Lynch is slow to get up to his feet. Jack Lynch turns around, and he gets hit with the Rough Ryder!!]
JR-Jack Lynch might be in trouble here!
King-This is chaos JR….Jack Lynch is probably having fun.
Kris Gaffney-I guess….
[Zack Ryder gets up to his feet, but Ragnar connects with the Gunginar spear on Zack Ryder!! Ragnar goes into the cover on Jack Lynch. The ref goes into position to make the count. The ref counts 1…………..2…………3!!]
JR-Zack Ryder seemed on his way to getting a fall, but Ragnar saw his chance, and won this match.
King-You mean the third guy was a factor gasp
(Ragnar Ayerswindale celebrates his win as Shockwave goes off the air.)
