(The EMF logo flashes on the screen.)
(The arena is darken. Pyrotechnics blasts on the stage, the lights turn on, and fans stand up, and yell waving their signs. The camera gets a few shots of the crowd, the camera zooms out to display the location information is shown, we get one more shot of the crowd.)
JR-Hello and 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 Little Mac takes on Azar Vulcan.
Kris Gaffney-However, they will have to keep each other down.
King-You’d think Little Mac would be perfect for that match…but no Azar is still better than everyone else.
JR-Let’s get started with the first match of the night.
(“The duck song” blasts on the PA system Kenny Omegrape teleports into the ring, and his body is half grape.)
JR-Well…that didn’t work out.
King-That’s what you think JR.
Kris Gaffney-Melon Gods JR…Melon Gods…
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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 is looking to get into a championship race.
King-Well this is a good stop.
Kris Gaffney-Ha! That’s because he’s a train!
Cyclone enters with high energy and intensity: jumping, yelling into the crowd, sprinting down the ramp and sliding smoothly into the ring before clapping intensely and pointing at his opponent, often times having to be held back by an official not to start the action before the bell rings.
JR-Joe Lamont is going to have to rely on manager.
King-The answer isn’t to ignore one, and focus on one.
Kris Gaffney-Definitely not.
[Patrick Payne, Kenny Omegrape, and Joe Lamont wait for the first move, Kenny Omegrape talks about the greatness of the Melon Gods. Joe Lamont tries to attack first on Kenny OMegrape, but Kenny Omegrape ducks under, and he pushes Joe Lamont towards Patrick Payne. Patrick Payne falls out of the ring, and he lands to the outside of the ring. Kenny Omegrape connects with a reverse DDT on Joe Lamont. Joe Lamont rolls away as he’s not ready to be pinned. Kenny Omegrape connects with a clothesline in the corner. Kenny Omegrape backs out of the corner, Joe Lamont stumbles out of the corner, and Kenny Omegrape connects with a northern lights suplex with a bridge. The ref goes into position to make the count, the ref counts 1………..2……Patrick Payne comes out of no where and breaks up with a flight risk!!]
JR-Kenny might have made a mistake right there.
King-There is no mistakes, just how the Melon Gods say it will be.
Kris Gaffney-I’m certain that’s a comfort…
[Patrick Payne throws Kenny Omegrape out of the ring, and he focuses on Joe Lamont, he tries to whip Joe Lamont to the ropes, but it’sr eversed by Joe Lamont, and Patrick Payne bounces off of the ropes, and Patrick Payne connects with a running knee lift, and he connects with a reverse neck breaker. Joe Lamont is in pain, and Patrick Payne waits for Joe Lamont to get up to his feet, and once he gets up to his feet, Patrick Payne connects with a kick to the gut, and Patrick Payne sets up Joe Lamont, and he connects with a fisherman suplex with a bridge. The ref goes into position tomake the count. The ref oucnts 1……….2………KICK OUT by Joe Lamont. Patrick Payne connects with a few stomps on the downed Joe Lamont, and he picks him up, and he connects with a body slam. Patrick Payne goes to the outside of the ring, and he climbs up to the top rope, but Kenny Omegrape pushes Patrick Payne off of the turnbuckle.]
JR-Patrick might have been going for another flight risk, and things took a turn for the worse.
King-Ouch.
[Joe Lamont sling shots Kenny Omegrape into the ring, and he crashes into the ring, and Kenny Omegrape gets whipped hard into the conrer, Kenny Omegrape stumbles backwards. Joe Lamont connects iwht the disaster!! Joe Lamont gets up to his feet, and he calls for the end of this match as the Grand Wizard shouts various instructions.]
JR-Joe Lamont might have changed the complextion of this match.
King-We’ll see where that goes.
[Patrick Payne turns around Joe Lamont, and he connects with the Payne Per View!! Patrick Payne goes into the cover on Joe Lamont!! The ref goes into position to make the count, the ref counts 1………..2……..3!!]
JR-Patrick Payne 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.)
Jim Ross: Jack Lynch is never short on fire. He knows the task ahead and he still meets it head on.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: Head on into a truck. Some lessons get learned the hard way, JR.
Kris Gafney: Buckle up and keep arms inside the ride.
[The house plunges into black. A single church bell tolls and a bruised purple glow leaks from the stage like fog. One figure steps into it. Archaos Angels stands alone at the top of the ramp, tall and terrible, shoulders mantled in metallic feather plates that flare under the light, a pale mask hiding every trace of the human beneath. He tilts his head as if listening to something only he can hear, then begins the trek forward with heavy, deliberate steps that thump a slow rhythm into the boards. He does not look left. He does not look right. At ringside he climbs the steel stairs in three cold beats, steps along the apron without a glance for the crowd, and threads the ropes. At center he lifts his arms into a cruciform silhouette, the feathers glittering, the mask blank. When he lowers them, the air feels colder.]
Jim Ross: That is an unsettling presence. Archaos Angels is not here for conversation. He is here for conquest.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: Conquest looks great on camera. Jack might want to ask for a selfie while he still has all his teeth.
Kris Gafney: If geometry could punch you in the soul, it would look like that entrance.
[The referee gives final instructions. Jack nods. Archaos Angels never nods, only stares through Jack like the mask sees more than the man. The bell rings.]
[Jack moves first, sprinting to steal a march on destiny. He fires a stinging calf kick to the thigh, then another, then hits the ropes and lasers a basement dropkick that clips the same leg and brings the towering figure down to a knee. Jack rebounds again, hunting a shining wizard. Archaos Angels rises into him with a palm thrust to the sternum that stops Jack midair like he ran into a locked door. Jack crumples to a knee, air gone. Angels does not chase. He simply steps in and clubs a downward forearm into Jack’s upper back, then hooks him by the waist, lifts, and dumps him with a release German suplex that skids Jack into the corner.]
Jim Ross: Raw, methodical power. Archaos Angels wastes nothing and hits like a sledge.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: That sledge has your name on it, Jack.
Kris Gafney: Return to sender is not an option.
[Angels stalks in and buries a shoulder into Jack’s ribs, then another, then stands Jack upright by the jaw and smears his face across the top rope on a slow march from buckle to buckle. The referee counts. Angels lets go at four without looking at the official, then turns and drives a boot to the gut that folds Jack. He hooks under both arms, hoists, and deposits him with a butterfly suplex that lands flat and hard. Angels rolls to his knees and presses a single hand to Jack’s chest. One. Jack jerks a shoulder free.]
Jim Ross: Quick cover just to ask the question. Jack answers but he is already breathing heavy.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: He will be breathing through a straw if this keeps up.
Kris Gafney: Paper or plastic is the least of his problems.
[Jack scrambles to a corner and pulls himself up. Angels closes like a tide. Jack snaps a back elbow, quick and desperate. It lands. He follows with a forearm flurry that stuns the giant a half step. Jack spins, vaults to the second rope, and dives for a tornado DDT. Angels plants his feet, stalls the spin midair with raw strength, and hurls Jack forward into a front slam that rattles the turnbuckles. Angels yanks him out by the boot, threads Jack’s leg around his own, and sits into a kneebar angle without committing, bending the joint and stomping the inside of the knee twice for punctuation. He stands, drags Jack vertical by the ear, and crushes him with a backbreaker across the thigh. Angels does not release. He keeps Jack bent over the knee, one hand on the chin, one on the thigh, prying until the referee hovers too close for comfort. Only then does Angels shove him off like discarded luggage.]
Jim Ross: He is dissecting the base. Spine, knee, breath. If Jack cannot move, he cannot fight.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: Look on the bright side. Less cardio.
Kris Gafney: And more chiropractor bills.
[Jack rolls away and uses a lower rope to stand. Angels looms behind him and wraps both arms around the waist for a bear hug. The pressure riots through Jack’s ribs. Jack rakes at the mask’s eye line, cannot find purchase, and switches to clubbing backfists to the ear. Angels grinds tighter. Jack claps the side of the head with both palms. It buys an inch. He spikes short elbows, squirms, and finally drops to his feet. He stumbles into the ropes and slingshots back with a running forearm that Angels ignores with a tilt of the head. Jack hits again, then a third time. The third lands enough to back Angels a step. The crowd bubbles. Jack sprints for the ropes one more time and leaps into a crossbody. Angels catches him like a stray thought, turns, and plants him with a fallaway slam that sends Jack skidding across the canvas.]
Jim Ross: Every window Jack opens gets bricked up in an instant.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: He brought a ladder to a bulldozer fight.
Kris Gafney: And the bulldozer does not have a reverse gear.
[Angels drags Jack to the apron by the wrist, folds him under the bottom rope so the head and shoulders hang inside and the torso rests outside, then clubs the exposed ribs with a measured forearm that vibrates the cables. He steps out to the floor, gathers Jack’s head with a palming grip, and bounces his face off the apron lip. He repeats the motion, steady and patient, then rolls in to break the count and rolls back out. Angels threads Jack’s legs under the bottom rope, lifts them, and slingshots Jack throat first into the rope. Jack snaps back and gasps. Angels slides in, cold as midnight.]
Jim Ross: The official is giving latitude, but you can see the line and you can see Angels toeing it.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: Reading the fine print with a magnifying glass. Honor student behavior.
Kris Gafney: Teacher’s pet of pain.
[Inside, Angels pulls Jack to center and kneels on the small of his back, threading his arms into a straightjacket hold that bends Jack’s head and shoulders at an ugly angle. The referee asks. Jack says no with his jaw tight. Angels rocks him, grinding the hold, then yanks up on the wrists until Jack’s feet leave the mat before rudely dropping him face first. Angels rolls him over with one boot and pins him again, nonchalant. One, two, Jack kicks free with a bark of defiance that gets a swell from the faithful.]
Jim Ross: That heartbeat is loud. Jack Lynch will not simply bow.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: He will bow if Angels makes him. Physics is very persuasive.
Kris Gafney: Gravity is undefeated and running up the score.
[Jack shoves off Angels’ chest and staggers to a knee. Angels steps in to harvest him. Jack shoots from below with a sudden jawbreaker that pops the mask backward and finally buys daylight. Jack hits the ropes and springs into a low dropkick to the knee, then a shotgun dropkick to the chest that finally knocks Angels down. The arena surges. Jack kips up, clutches a rib, and scales the near buckle with the speed of adrenaline. He launches with a missile dropkick that lands flush and sends Angels tumbling to a corner. Jack does not stop. He sprints coast to coast and drives a running knee into the jaw, then spins out and bulldogs Angels to the mat. Cover. One, two, Angels powers out with authority.]
Jim Ross: That was Jack’s best string. He needs more of it and he needs it now.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: Needs a miracle, a map, and maybe a forklift.
Kris Gafney: I vote for a second miracle. They stack better.
[Jack rides the wave, pulls Angels up by the mask’s chin line, and pays for the hubris. Angels wraps both hands around his wrists, peels them away with impossible calm, and headbutts Jack on the bridge of the nose. Jack stumbles. Angels snatches a front facelock, hoists Jack vertical, holds him there in a long, awful silence, then steps forward into a stalling gourdbuster that makes a concussive thud. He does not cover. He kneels beside Jack and places a hand on his sternum, feeling the breath he is taking away, then stands and hauls him up again.]
Jim Ross: He is sending a message. He wants the finish to be remembered.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: Consider my memory refreshed.
Kris Gafney: Mine is sending me a calendar invite titled Oh No.
[Angels whips Jack to the ropes. On the rebound he scoops him and swings him into a pendulum backbreaker, then keeps him hung over the knee and shoves him off with contempt. He stalks to the corner, steps onto the second rope, and perches there without theatrics. Jack rises on unsteady legs. Angels drops from the second rope into a lariat that knocks Jack head over heels. He drags Jack by the ankle toward the corner again and steps out to the apron. With a hand wrapped around the top rope and one on Jack’s head, Angels vaults the rope into a slingshot leg drop across the throat. Jack shudders and clutches at the air. Angels crawls into a cover. One, two, Jack just manages to roll a shoulder.]
Jim Ross: Heart for days, but the tank is emptying.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: Running on fumes and a dream.
Kris Gafney: Dreams are not legal tender in this economy.
[Angels rises slow and serene, like the decision was made three minutes ago and he is simply delivering the paperwork. He hooks Jack under the arms from behind in a half nelson, wrenches him to his feet, and lifts, spiking him with a half nelson suplex that folds him like a pocketknife. Jack flops to his side, fingers twitching. Angels stands over him and tips his head again, that eerie listen to distant thunder. The crowd senses the end and roars for Jack to stand. He does. Barely.]
Jim Ross: Jack Lynch is somehow vertical. I do not know what is keeping him up.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: Stubbornness. And that is about to fail inspection.
Kris Gafney: This is the part in the movie where the hero needs a sequel.
[Angels moves in for the kill. He doubles Jack over with a knee to the midsection, then threads both of Jack’s arms behind his back and hoists him into a crucifix position, high and helpless, the mask angled skyward. The arena hums with dread. Angels takes three slow steps toward center, pivots, and slams Jack down in a crucifix powerbomb that detonates the canvas like a dropped anvil. Jack bounces to his shoulders and lies still, arms splayed in the same shape that heralded his doom.]
Jim Ross: Crucifix powerbomb, center of the ring. That will do it.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: That did it twice.
Kris Gafney: One for the highlight reel, one for the chiropractor.
[Angels does not bother with finesse. He plants a forearm heavy across Jack’s face, hooks the far leg deep, and stares into the hard camera through the blank mask while the referee counts the inevitable one, two, three.]
Jim Ross: Archaos Angels defeats Jack Lynch by pinfall. Clinical, powerful, and more than a little frightening.
Jerry "The King" Lawler: Consider me a fan of the efficiency. Jack brought heart. Angels brought inevitability.
Kris Gafney: Math problem solved. Show your work, stamp the finish.
[Angels rises without celebration. He does not pose or gloat. He simply stands and lets the referee approach, then steps away before the hand can be raised, the gesture unnecessary. He looks once to the rafters like he is reading constellations through the roof, then steps out between the ropes and drops to the floor. The camera tracks him halfway up the ramp as the metallic feathers catch the low light. He never looks back.]
(“Main Event-ish” blasts on the PA system. Jey Uso walks out through the crowd YEETing, He steps inside of the ring.)
JR-Jey seemed to have a lot to say about the Dungeon Master but reframed himself.
King-What we heard probably was tame to what was going through his head.
Kris Gaffney-Maybe…
The arena is plunged into eerie darkness. A single spotlight beams down on the entrance stage, revealing an enormous 20-sided die (D20), its numbers glowing with arcane energy. The haunting opening chords of “Binks’ Sake” start to play, gentle and mysterious, the crowd immediately clapping along.
Suddenly, on the massive LED screen, a colossal animated dragon bursts forth—its scales shimmering violet and gold. It coils and roars, unleashing a torrent of digital flame straight down the ramp. As the fire rushes forward, spotlights follow, making it seem as if the very ramp itself is set ablaze, leading to the ring.
At that moment, from beneath the stage, a ring of real flames erupts. Rising through the fire, guitar in hand and bathed in flickering orange and purple light, stands The Dungeon Master. He strikes a rockstar pose, head thrown back, hair wild, the guitar gleaming across his chest. The arena explodes with cheers.
He launches into a flamboyant air guitar solo, strutting to the music, every step in sync with the rolling animation of the D20, which now tumbles down the ramp in perfect time with his movement—projected to look as if it’s rolling just ahead of him, leading the way to destiny.
Each of his steps triggers a cascade of lighting effects—arcane runes illuminate underfoot, bursts of fireworks erupt from the ramp, and shooting flames flare on either side. He spins and dances, encouraging the crowd to join in, then leaps onto the ring apron, pausing to soak in the roaring energy of the fans.
With a grand flourish, he vaults into the ring, landing center stage in an epic rockstar stance. He rips a final, thunderous strum on his guitar—at that precise moment, golden sparks rain down from the rafters, surrounding him in a shimmering storm, as purple and gold spotlights swirl around the ring.
As the music fades, the dragon on the screen loops and lands atop a mountain of dice, bellowing one last time as flames curl around the frame.
Announcer: Making his way to the ring… hailing from the Astral Plane… but Louder! Weighing in at two hundred and twelve pounds… he is the BARD of BRUTALITY… the MASTER of MAYHEM… THE DUNGEON MASTER!
The Dungeon Master drops to one knee, raises his guitar like a legendary sword, and flashes a wild, infectious grin as the crowd erupts—his legend already unfolding before the match has even begun.
JR-The Dungeon Master is an known however, you should not write him off.
Kris Gaffney-That’s for sure, what I’ve heard he’s extremely talented.
[Jey Uso and the Dungeon Master pace around the ring, and they lock up, and the Dungeon Master is able to take Jey Uso down with an arm drag release. Jey Uso gets up to his feet, and once he gets up to his feet the Dungeon Master connects with a standing drop kick that puts down Jey Uso. Jey Uso gets up, and he falls into the corner, the Dungeon Master runs towards Jey Uso, and he connects with a few running knees to the face, he sets up Jey, and he connects with a sling shot DDT into the mat. Dungeon Master sets up, and he connects with a standing moonsault to connect on Jey Uso. The Dungeon Master goes into the cover on Jey Uso the ref goes into position to make the count. The ref counts 1……….2……KICK OUT by Jey Uso. The Dungeon Master connects with a few stomps on the downed Jey Uso, and he considers his next move.]
JR-So far the new comer Dungeon Master is taking it to Jey Uso.
King-No YEET?
Kris Gaffney-Guess not.
[Jey Uso is slow to get up to his feet, and once he gets up to his feet. Jey Uso gets picked up, but Jey Uso connects with a few elbows to the side of the head. Jey Uso connects with a DDT on the Dungeon Master. Jey Uso takes a few moments to rest up, and he watches as the Dungeon Master gets up to his feet, and once he gets up to his feet he gets hit with a super kick that knocks back the Dungeon Master. He falls backwards, and Jey Uso lifts up the Dungeon Master, and he connects with a belly to back reverse neck breaker. Jey Uso waits for the Dungeon Master to get up to his feet, and he connects with a spear. Jey Uso goes to the outside of the ring, and he climbs up to the top rope.]
JR-Jey Uso might be looking to end this match.
King-He’s looking to end Kevin?
Kris Gaffney-Guess so…back to his Mom’s basement.
[Jey Uso jumps off, and he goes for the Uso splash, but at the last moment the Dungeon Master moves out of the way. Jey Uso crashes into the mat. Jey stumbles up, and the Dungeon Master lifts him up, and he drops Jey with the Critical Hit!! The Dungeon Master goes into the cover on Jey, the ref goes into position to make the count. The ref counts 1…………2…………3!!]
JR-The Dungeon Master gets the victory.
(Radio” blasts on the PA system as Zack Ryder walks out on the stage with his web camera, he walks down to the ring, he steps inside of the ring.)
JR-Zack Ryder’s experience in these matches are always a factor that will help.
King-He knows these matches you need to be quick, and take advantage of his opportunities.
Kris Gaffney-Easier said than done a lot of the time.
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 Ayerwindale has been champion before.
King-With all of his power moves it lends itself to this match.
Kris Gaffney-He doesn’t necessarily have to wait for his chance, he can create it anytime.
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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.]
JR-Austin Jaemson Mercer however is some who will want to get on the road to bring gold to the Maledictum.
King-Austin Jameson Mercer has had a new attitude since becoming a part of the Maledictum.
[Zack Ryder, Ragnar Ayerswindale, Austin Jameson Mercer stand in the ring and he waits for the first move. Austin Jameson Mercer goes for a red carpet, but Zack Ryder ducks under, Zack Ryder tries to go for the Rough Ryder, but Austin Jameson Mercer counters by catching Zack Ryder, and he throws Zack Ryder into Ragnar. Ragnar falls out of the irng. Zack Ryder stumbles around, and Austin Jameson Mercer hits a kick to the gut, and he sets him up, and he connects with the 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 had a few counters, and was able to get a 2 count.
King-It’s early, but a good first try to end this match.
Kris Gaffney-You need to move quickly, and take every chance to end it.
[Austin Jameson Mercer is pulled out o the ring by Ragnar Ayerswindale, and he throws him ahrd into the ring steps. Austin Jameson Mercer is in pain, Ragnar Ayerswindale runs around the ring, and he comes around the ring, and he connects with the Gunginar spear on Austin Jameson Mercer. Ragnar Ayerswindale steps inside of the ring, and he connects with a few fists to the face, and he whips Zack Ryder to the ropes, and he bounces off of the ropes. Ragnar Ayerswindale connects with a spinning spine buster.]
JR-Austin Jameson Mercer took a huge spear from Ragnar.
King-We’ll see if he can get back into this match, or if it’ll continue as a one on one.
Kris Gaffney-Ah….so that can happen, not ignoring your third guy.
[Ragnar Ayerswindale picks up Zack Ryder, and he sets him up for the Runestone power bomb, but before he can hit it Zack Ryder counters with a hurricanarana that sends Ragnar Ayerswindale inot the corner, and Zack Ryder connects with a clothesline in the corner. Ragnar Ayerswindale falls into the corner into a seated position. Zack Ryder backs up, and he fist pumps (Woo! Woo! Woo!) Zack Ryder connects with a broski boot to the side of the head. Zack Ryder pulls Ragar out of the corner, and Zack Ryder goes into the cover on Ragnar, the ref goes into position to make the count. The ref counts 1……….2……..KICK OUT by Ragnar.]
JR-Zack Ryder almost got the three there.
King-The Melon Gods would have allowed him to kick out quicker…
[Zack Ryder goes for the Rough Ryder, but it’s caught by Ragnar who connects with the Runestone power bomb. Ragnar goes into the cover on Ryder. The ref goes into position to make the count. The ref counts 1……….2……Austin Jameson Mercer breaks the count with the Final Cut!! AJM goes into the cover on Ryder. The ref goes into position to make the count. The ref counts 1…………..2……….3!!]
JR-Austin Jameson Mercer saw his chance, and got the victory.
The arena dims—clean and sharp. No theatrics. Just focus. Then—
“Return of the Mac” hits with that unmistakable groove.
The bass kicks in. The crowd pops.
They know what time it is.
Little Mac steps through the curtain.
He’s wearing a sleeveless hoodie—unzipped, hood down—his hands wrapped tight in black tape, knuckles calloused and exposed.
He’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, shadowboxing lightly, eyes sharp, focused. He’s not playing to the crowd—he’s staying loose, staying ready.
Behind him, cool and steady, is Doc Louis, gum in his mouth, towel over one shoulder, nodding like he’s seen this win already.
Mac moves with confidence. Controlled swagger.
Taps his fists together as he walks.
No flash. No posturing. Just presence.
The strobe lights hit light gold and white as the beat pulses, but never overwhelm—because Mac’s energy doesn’t need dressing up.
The fans reach out—he slaps a few hands, nods to others, but he never stops moving. His rhythm is the beat of the ring.
He slides into the ring clean and low, pops up in one fluid motion, and immediately circles the ropes once—keeping his hands moving.
A short jab. A sidestep.
Always working. Always tuned in.
JR-Little Mac is representing The Bellarosa Family.
King-Joey will be facing off against Azar in a few weeks.
Kris Gaffney-Little Mac gets a chance to face off against the champion first.
[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-These two have fought before.
Kris Gaffney-This time it’s a Last Man Standing match…almost like a boxing match.
King-Only with weapons and men who are already better than you.
[Azar Vulcan and Little Mac pace around the ring, and they lock up, Azar Vulcan is able to drive him into the corner, and he connects with a few knee’s into the gut, and he backs out of the corner, and Little Mac stumbles out of the corner, Azar Vulcan connects with a clothesline that sends Little Mac flying out of the ring to the floor, Azar Vulcan follows him, and he smashes face into the announcers desk. Azar Vulcan whips him hard into the ring steps, the steps goes flying. Azar Vulcan sets up Little Mac and he does a piledriver on the base of the steps. Little Mac is down on the mat, and Azar Vulcan lets the ref count 1…………2……….3………4……..5……..6…Little Mac gets up to his feet, and once he gets up to his feet, he is met with a chair to the head, but he isn’t allowed to drop, Azar Vulcan throws him into the ring, and he waits for Mac to get up to his feet, once he gets up to his feet, he kicks him in the gut, and he sets him up, and he connects with a brain buster. Azar Vuclan runs towards the ropes, and he connects with a spring board moonsault. Azar Vulcan backs away allowing the ref to count. The ref counts 1…………2………..3………4………Little Mac is slow to get up to his feet………6………7……..8……..Little Mac gets up, but is quickly dropped by Azar Vulcan.]
JR-Azar Vulcan is trying to maintain his advantage.
King-or he doesn’t have to…due to being so much better.
Kris Gaffney-Wonder if he gets vegan powers…
[Azar Vulcan waits for Little Mac to get up to his feet, and once he gets up to his feet. Azar Vulcan goes for the Money Maker, but Little Mac is able to duck under, and he connects with a big upper cut that makes Azar Vulcan stumble backwards. Little Mac connects with a DDT on the mat, and Little Mac takes a few moments to rest up as he pulls himself up to his feet, the count does start, but it doesn’t get to a point where it needs to be mentioned. Azar Vulcan is slow to get up to his feet, and Little Mac connects with a Liver punch that doubles him over. Little Mac runs towards the ropes, and he bounces off of the ropes, and he connects with a running knee lift, and Little Mac connects with a reverse neck breaker. Little Mac goes to the outside of the ring, and he brings back the chair that Azar Vulcan had used earlier in the match, and he brings in the chair, and he places it in the ring, and Little Mac waits for Azar Vulcan to get up where he wants him, and he runs towards the ropes, and he bounces off of the ropes, and he connects with a bulldog through the chair. Azar Vulcan is down on the mat. The ref starts the count 1………….2…………3………4………5…….6….Azar Vulcan tries to get up to his feet………..7…….8……Azar Vuclan is able to get up to his feet.]
JR-Azar Vulcan is able to survive.
King-But your face won’t be able to survive the night without being punched JR!
Kris Gaffney-I’d ask if that’s a threat…but I’ve know it’s promise..
[Little Mac gets ready, and he goes for the KO punch, but Azar Vulcan is able to counter with low blow!! Azar Vulcan backs up Azar hits a money maker. Little Mac falls backwards, and Azar Vulcan connects with another Money Maker. Azar Vulcan puts Little Mac on the chair he pulls him up, and he connects with a curb stomp on the chair. The ref counts 1………..2………3……….4………5………6……….7……..8…Little Mac tries to get up to his feet but can’t…….9…….10!! AZAR VULCAN WINS!]
JR-Little Mac tried to end the match, but Azar Vulcan used dirty tactics to get the win.
King-He’s the devil…I think Azar should be rewarded for it!
(Azar Vulcan stares down at Little Mac as Shockwave goes off the air.)
