(The EMF logo flashes on the screen.)
(We open to the darken arena as pyrotechnics blasts on the stage. The lights turn on as fans yell, and wave their signs. The camera gets a few shots of the crowd, and then we zoom out to display the location information. We get one more shot of the crowd as the commentators speak over the shot of the crowd.)
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 we will see the tag team titles on the line as Jackson Gunner and Tony Ikeda will put the belts on the line.
Kris Gaffney-That should be an interesting match.
JR-Let’s get started with the first match of the night.
[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-The strength of Mansa Carthage can’t be understated.
King-You can’t because he’s shown he knows how to use it.
Kris Gaffney-If you don’t believe it, look at the IC championship
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 speed, and high flying ability are going to be an interesting contrast.
King-You might not think it, but we have seen it.
[Mansa Carthage throws a wild fist, and Sythe runs towards the ropes, and he spring boards off of the second rope, but Mansa Carthage takes down Sythe with a running boot right out of the air. He is in a lot of pain. Mansa Carthage waits for Sythe to get up to his feet, and he lifts up Sythe driving him down with a spike spine buster into the mat. Mansa Carthage goes into the corner, and he waits for Sythe to get up to his feet. Once he gets up to his feet. Mansa Carthage connects with the super man punch that puts him down on the mat. Mansa Carthage goes into the cover on Sythe. The ref goes into position to make the count. The ref counts 1……………2………KICK OUT by Sythe!!]
JR-Sythe was able to kick out!
King-He’s going to have to figure out how to change the course of this match.
Kris Gaffney-Luckily his speed allows for that.
[Sythe gets up to his feet, and Mansa Carthage grabs Sythe around the throat, and he lifts him up but, Sythe gets free, and he drives him into the mat with a DDT. Both wrestlers are down, but before we even go into the count Sythe rolls into the corner, and he pulls himself up into the corner. Mansa Carthage runs at Sythe, but Sythe hits a boot to the face, Sythe ducks under, and he connects with a reverse neck breaker. Sythe goes to the outside of the ring, and he climbs up to the top rope.]
JR-Sythe might be looking to end this match.
King-Second rope fist drop!
Kris Gaffney-It’s not going to happen…
[Sythe goes for the Sythenator, but at the last moment Mansa Carthage moves out of the way. Sythe crashes into the mat. Sythe gets up to his feet. Mansa Carthage connects with a Dragons Descend into a pin on Sythe. The ref goes into position to make the count. The ref counts 1…………2……………3!!]
JR-Sythe went for it all, and it didn’t work out.
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.
He hits the corner turnbuckle, hops up to the second rope, and raises one wrapped fist in the air—no grin, no posing. Just a statement:
“You’re stepping into my fight now.”
Samantha Irvin fires off with intensity:
"Making his way to the ring… accompanied by Doc Louis… from the Bronx, New York… weighing in at 200 pounds… he is THE PRIZE FIGHTER… LITTLLLLLLLEEEEE MAC!"
Mac drops down, rolls his shoulders, paces back to his corner. Doc gives him a nod, mutters something low.
Mac taps his fists together, leans into the ropes, and eyes his opponent like a sniper finding range.
He doesn’t flex.
He doesn’t scream.
He fights.
And you’d better pray your chin holds up.
The lights cut completely—
BOOM.
A harsh, red strobe light slashes through the dark as the opening beat of “Livid” (Scarlxrd x NF x Hopsin) hits like a car crash.
No countdown. No warning.
Just pure, unapologetic violence in audio form.
The screen glitches violently with distorted flashes of Luca’s face—twisted, screaming, laughing. Static-laced clips of limb-snapping submissions, steel chair shots, and blood-covered snarls flicker behind the noise.
And then—he explodes through the curtain.
Mad Dog Luca Bellarosa bursts onto the stage like he was shot out of a fucking cannon.
No rhythm, no choreography. He’s stomping, shouting, pacing back and forth like a beast trying to decide whether to sprint to the ring or tear the ramp apart with his bare hands.
He’s shirtless. Sweat already dripping. Taped fists. Baggy black pants tucked into unlaced boots. Gold chain bouncing off his chest like it’s trying to escape the madness.
His eyes are wild.
His mouth is moving—talking to himself, barking at the crowd, yelling at no one.
He doesn’t pose. He doesn’t smile.
He storms.
Down the ramp, he points at fans, flips off a camera, laughs manically.
Sometimes he drops to all fours and slams the ground.
Other times he throws punches at nothing just to stay warm.
Samantha Irvin’s voice cracks over the chaos:
"Introducing… from the streets of Brooklyn, New York… weighing in at 225 pounds… he is the MAD DOG… LUCAAAA… BELLAROSAAAA!"
He dives under the bottom rope, scrambles across the ring like a spider, then slams himself chest-first into the turnbuckles. Once. Twice. Turns. Roars.
He jumps onto the middle rope, howls like an animal to the crowd, then drops down and paces the ring like it’s too small to hold him.
There’s no composure. No calm. Just a storm in a human shape.
JR-Little Mac and Luca Bellarosa have the abilities that contrast that Voss and Navarro don’t have at least in a big way.
King-But they don’t have the strength and power either.
Kris Gaffney-Luckily Little Mac is used to facing bigger opponents all the time…
The arena lights flicker and then cut out, plunging the crowd into darkness. A deep, rumbling bass echoes throughout the arena as "I Am Colossus" by Meshuggah begins to play. Thick, ominous smoke begins to billow from the stage, covering the ramp in a dense fog that swirls menacingly. Dark, crimson lights start to pulse in sync with the slow, crushing beats of the music, casting eerie shadows across the arena. Suddenly, a series of sharp, thunderous booms erupt, sending shocks of fire across the stage, creating a wall of flames that parts to reveal the silhouette of a giant figure. The smoke parts as Malek Voss, towering at 7'2" and 500 pounds, steps through the flames, his form barely visible through the heavy mist. The crowd murmurs in awe as Malek slowly begins his deliberate march toward the ring, his eyes locked ahead with cold, unwavering focus. Each of his footsteps seems to shake the very ground beneath him as the smoke follows his path. The crimson lights continue to pulse, casting him in and out of shadow, emphasizing his monstrous presence. Behind him, the fire burns brighter, leaving a trail of embers in his wake. Malek reaches the base of the ramp and pauses for a moment, taking in the energy of the arena, his expression stoic and unreadable. He places one massive hand on the apron, pulling himself up with ease, his eyes never leaving the ring. With a simple, yet intimidating motion, Malek steps over the top rope, entering the ring as the crimson lights swirl around him. Once inside, he slowly raises one arm to the sky, and as he does, a violent explosion of fireworks bursts from the turnbuckles, bathing the ring in a fiery glow.
EMF Ring Announcer: "Standing at 7 feet 2 inches tall, weighing in at 500 pounds… from the depths of destruction itself... The Mad Titan, Malek Voss!"
[The lights return to their dim, crimson hue as Malek strides toward the center of the ring, his massive frame illuminated by the glowing red light. He stands tall, motionless, exuding power and menace, his eyes scanning the crowd as the arena settles into an eerie silence. The music fades, but the oppressive aura of Malek Voss lingers as he waits for his opponent, like a predator stalking his prey.
The arena lights dim as the first beats of "Lie, Cheat, Steal" by CFO$ echo through the speakers. Golden spotlights begin to flicker across the stage, and the screen above the entrance flashes the words "NO GOOD" in bold letters. The crowd starts to react as Vince "No Good" Navarro steps out from behind the curtain, a sly smirk on his face. He’s dressed in his sleek ring gear, adjusting his sunglasses as he pauses at the top of the ramp, arrogantly soaking in the crowd’s reaction. Vince walks down the ramp with exaggerated swagger, pointing to his chest and mouthing to the crowd, “The Bad Boy’s here!” As he struts forward, the golden lights continue flashing in rhythm with the music, highlighting his every step. Vince taunts fans along the way, blowing kisses to a few and brushing off the boos with a cocky laugh.
EMF Ring Announcer: "Making his way to the ring, from the Streets of Sin City, weighing in at 205 pounds, he is the 'No Good,' 'Dirty' Vince Navarro!"
Vince reaches the apron and dramatically wipes his feet on it before stepping into the ring, taking his time as he climbs through the ropes. Once inside, he walks to the center of the ring and spreads his arms wide, showing off to the crowd, as if basking in invisible applause. He then walks over to the ropes, standing on the middle rope and raising his hand to his ear as if daring the fans to boo louder.
Vince Navarro: "All eyes on me, baby! The Bad Boy’s about to show you how it’s done!"
He casually leans against the turnbuckle with a cocky grin, his sunglasses still on. The music fades, and Vince waits with an air of superiority, confident and ready for whatever—or whoever—comes next.
JR-The Amigos have been tag team champions before.
King-Using the power of friendship.
Kris Gaffney-And power bombs
[Little Mac and Vince Navarro pace around the ring, and Little Mac goes for a fist to the face. Vince Navarro is able to duck under, Vince Navarro kicks Little Mac in the gut, and he sets up Little Mac, and he goes for a vertical suplex, but at the last moment Little Mac is able to slide out of the back. Little Mac sets up Vince Navarro and he connects with a front Russian leg sweep, Little Mac connects with a reverse neck breaker. Little Mac makes the tag to Luca Bellarosa. Luca Bellarosa climbs up to the second rope, and he connects with a second rope elbow. Luca goes into the cover on Vince Navarro, the ref goes into position to make the count. The ref counts 1……….2……KICK OUT by Vince Navarro]
King-Damn, I thought he was going for a second rope fist drop.
Kris Gaffney-I thought a look of joy melt into disappointment….
JR-Either way the match goes on.
[Vince Navarro gets picked up by Luca, Vince Navarro connects with a jaw breaker that makes him stumble backwards in pain. Vince Navarro makes the tag to Malik Voss. Luca Bellarosa tries to do something about it, but it’s blocked, and he connects with a head butt that makes Luca Bellarosa goes down on the mat. Malik Voss steps inside of the ring, and he connects with a few fists to the face, and he whips him to the ropes, and he bounces off of the ropes, and he connects with a big back body drop. Luca Bellarosa is slow to get up to his feet. Malik Voss connects with a side walk slam. Malik Voss goes into the cover on Luca Bellarosa. The ref goes into position to make the count. The ref counts 1…………..2……..Little Mac breaks up the three, but Vince Navarro attacks Little Mac.]
JR-This match is breaking down.
King-Shut up JR!
Kris Gaffney-We’ll see if someone can take advantage.
[Malik sets up Luca up, and he completes the world breaker on Luca Bellarosa. Malk Voss goes into the cover on Luca Bellarosa. The ref goes into position to make the count. The ref counts 1…………2………..3!!]
JR-The Amigos were able to get the victory.
King-Friendship wins!
(“Radio” blasts on the PA system. Zack Ryder walks out on the stage with his web camera.)
JR-This team is one of the combination of a Few Badd Men.
King-I don’t know the most common one, but they have teamed together a decent amount of times.
Kris Gaffney-The Beast Bros are back!
[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.]
(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.)
(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-This is a combination of the Maledictum.
King-Not sure they have ever teamed together.
Kris Gaffney-But they have been a stable, and they might have teamed together in a bigger tag team match.
King-Maybe
[Fenrir Kaine and Zack Ryder start out. They pace around the ring, and they lock up, and Fenrir Kaine throws Zack Ryder into the corner, he bounces out of the corner, Fenrir Kaine drops him with a fist to the face, he crasehes down on the mat. Fenrir Kaine whips him off of the ropes, and he throws him in up the air, and he connects with a Samoan drop. Zack Ryder is in pain. Fenrir Kaine makes the tag to Austin Jameson Mercer. Austin Jameson Mercer waits for Zack Ryder to get up to his feet, and he kicks him in the gut, and he sets him up. Austin Jameson Mercer 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-Zack Ryder was able to kick out.
King-Shouldn’t be a shock.
Kris Gaffney-You know it.
[Zack Ryder gets picked up by Austin Jameson Mercer, and he slides out of the back. Zack Ryder hits a kick to the gut, and he plants Austin Jameson Mercer with a DDT into the mat. Zack Ryder crawls into the corner, and he makes the tag to Aari Maxwell, Aari Maxwell runs into the ring, and he connects with a running clothesline. Aari Maxwell connects with a kick to the gut that doubles over Zack Ryder. Aari Maxwell runs towards the ropes, and he connects with a second rope cutter. Aari Maxwell makes the tag to Zack Ryder, Zack Ryder drops a second rope elbow drop. Zack Ryder goes itno the cover on Austin Jameson Mercer. Zack Ryder goes into the cover on Austin Jameson Mercer. The ref goes into position to make the count. The ref counts 1…………..2…………KICK OUT by Austin Jameson Mercer!!]
JR-Zack Ryder almost got the three there.
King-You know it.
Kris Gaffney-Ha!
[Fenrir Kaine attacks Aari, Zack Ryder attention is turned, and AJM throws him into the ring post. Zack Ryder falls out of the corner. Austin Jameson Mercer climbs up to the top rope, and he connects with the Final Cut!! Austin Jameson Mercer 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 takes advantage, and wins this match for his team.
(Lights out, crowd waits in anticipation and then erupt in both boos and cheers for The Irish God when green smoke fills the dark arena and a spotlight shines at the top of the ramp, all when Sinéad O'Connor & The Chieftains - The Foggy Dew plays throughout the arena. From the back, arms out and swinging cockily comes walking the Irish God, Lugus Cuhullin. He stops atop the ramp with his hands by his side and face looking to the ground and he raises his fists slowly making an X above his head. The Irish God slams his fists down and fireworks shoot from the ramp and lights flash green as The Irish God does quick shadowboxing with each strike fireworks shooting from the stage. He looks to the ring with his cocky smile.)
Suddenly, the powerful tones of “Twilight of the Thunder God” by Amon Arnath engulfed the arena. Lights went pitch black for a moment, and when they return, they danced in a patriotic sequence of Red, White, and Blue while sparks rained down from the ceiling. The camera panned around quickly, searching for the source of the entrance, finally setting halfway up the stands in the crowd. There stood Jackson Gunner followed by Wade Wilson, surrounded by a sea of ecstatic fans. The crowd’s roars intensified as he tore off his tank top, throwing it to a lucky audience member. In a gesture of sheer energy, he beat his chest and threw his hands into the air, forming an X, signaling his readiness for battle as his Championship drapes over his shoulder.)
Announcer: Ladies and Gentleman! Making his way through the crowd, hailing from Honolulu, Hawaii, standing at 6’4” and weighing in at 250 pounds… he is the reigning EMF TV Champion, “THE SMILING WARRIOR” JACKSON “KOA KOA” GUNNER!
JR-The team of Lugus Cuhullin and Victor Thorn won this shot back in March.
King-Time is nothing compared to an Irish God.
Kris Gaffney-Is that how it works?
(“Game On” blasts on the PA system. Tony Ikeda walks out on the stage, and he steps inside of the ring.)
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[The arena lights dim to a near blackout, plunging the audience into darkness. A low hum begins to emanate from the speakers, building a sense of uneasy anticipation. The crowd is restless, unsure of what to expect. Suddenly, a single, flickering spotlight illuminates the entrance ramp, casting long shadows that dance across the floor like specters. The haunting, familiar melody of "Over the Rainbow" by Judy Garland begins to play softly over the speakers, its gentle notes drifting through the arena like a lullaby from another world.]
Ring Announcer (with a mix of uncertainty and dread):
"Ladies and gentlemen... making his way to the ring... from Ravenwood Asylum, Hollow Point, Maine... weighing in at 207 pounds... Victor... 'Vex'... Thorn!"
[As the announcer's voice echoes through the arena, the song continues to play softly, its calm, dream-like quality creating a chilling contrast with the darkness of the arena. Slowly, from behind the curtain, emerges Victor "Vex" Thorn. His movements are slow and deliberate, almost as if he’s gliding rather than walking. He is dressed in a tattered, old-style suit jacket that looks decades out of fashion, with loose, dirt-stained pants and mismatched shoes—an attire that looks as though it was pieced together from a forgotten wardrobe in the depths of an asylum. His head is slightly tilted to the side, his expression a blank canvas that shifts subtly between confusion, curiosity, and something far more sinister.]
[The spotlight follows Victor as he begins his descent down the ramp, his pace methodical and unpredictable. With each step, his head twitches, his eyes darting around as if he’s listening to voices that no one else can hear. The soft notes of "Over the Rainbow" continue to float through the arena, but the melody now carries an eerie distortion—stretching and bending in places, creating a warped sense of nostalgia that sends chills down the spines of those watching.]
[Halfway down the ramp, Victor stops abruptly, his body rigid. He stands motionless for a few seconds, staring blankly ahead as if he's frozen in time. The music suddenly distorts further—notes dragging unnaturally, almost as if the record is being slowed down by an unseen hand. His lips curl into a small, almost childlike smile, but there’s no warmth in it—only a cold, unsettling emptiness. Suddenly, Victor's head snaps to the side, and his expression shifts to one of intense focus. He begins to mumble to himself, his words incoherent and frantic, his eyes darting back and forth. The audience is left in an uneasy silence, with only the distorted melody filling the void.]
[The song picks up again, playing normally for a few more notes, but now with a faint echo that seems to bounce around the arena like ghostly whispers. Victor resumes his approach to the ring, but his movements become more erratic—at times, he shuffles like a puppet with broken strings; other times, he moves with an eerie grace, almost like a dancer in a dark, twisted ballet.]
[As he reaches ringside, he suddenly lunges forward and grabs the bottom rope, his face inches away from the camera. His eyes widen, his mouth contorts into a manic grin, and he begins to laugh—a soft, breathy giggle that grows louder and more deranged with each passing second. The laughter is amplified through the speakers, layered with an unsettling echo, making it seem as if there are multiple voices laughing alongside him. The crowd watches in stunned silence, unsure whether to be horrified or mesmerized by the spectacle unfolding before them.]
[Victor crawls under the bottom rope and into the ring, still giggling uncontrollably. He crawls on all fours toward the center, where he slowly rises to his feet. He stands in the middle of the ring, his head down, the giggling fading into a low hum. Suddenly, the music cuts off, leaving the arena in absolute silence. Victor’s head snaps up, and his eyes lock onto the hard camera. The eerie smile vanishes, replaced by a cold, emotionless stare. The audience feels a collective shiver as he stands there, unblinking, as if staring directly into their souls.]
[Then, without warning, he throws his head back and lets out a blood-curdling scream—a sound that pierces through the silence like a knife. The arena lights flash wildly, alternating between blinding white and total darkness in rapid succession, creating a disorienting strobe effect. The crowd gasps, some even recoiling in their seats from the sheer intensity of it all. The scream suddenly cuts off, and the lights go completely dark once more.]
[For a moment, there is nothing but darkness and silence. Then, the flickering spotlight returns, revealing Victor standing perfectly still in his corner, his head tilted, his eyes wide and unblinking. He begins to sway gently from side to side, almost as if he’s rocking himself to sleep. The song "Over the Rainbow" starts again, but this time it's warped and distant, as if playing from an old, broken music box. The effect is haunting—an innocent melody turned into a chilling lullaby for a broken mind.]
[The audience remains in stunned silence, unsure of what they’ve just witnessed. Victor "Vex" Thorn stands there, swaying, his presence alone enough to fill the arena with an air of unpredictable danger. The crowd knows that whatever comes next will be unlike anything they've ever seen before.]
JR- The tag team champions are going to have to deal with the hard hitting style of Lugus Cuhullin and Victor Thorne.
King-Your going to have to deal with my fist hitting your face!
[Victor Thorne and Jackson Gunner starts out in the middle fo the ring, they lock up, and Victor Thorne knee lifts Jackson Gunner. Victor Thorn whips Jackson Gunner, Gunner bounces off of the ropes. Victor Thorn lowers his head, but it’s countered with a running knee to the face. Victor Thorne throws a wild fist to the face, and Jackson Gunner connects with a release german suplex that sends him flying through the air, an dhe crashes down on the mat. Jackson makes the tag to Tony Ikeda, Tony Ikeda waits for Victor Thorne to get up to his feet, Tony Ikeda hooks Victor Thorne, and he drops him with the full nelson slam!! Tony Ikeda goes into the cover on Victor Thorn, the ref counts 1……………..2…………KICK OUT by Victor Thorne!!
JR-Victor Thorne was able to kick out!
King-Things haven’t started out strong for him yet, but I’m certain he’ll figure it out.
Kris Gaffney-or one would hope.
[Tony Ikeda waits for Victor Thorne to get up to his feet. Tony Ikeda hooks him, and he goes for the full nelson suplex, but it’s countered with a snapmare. Victor Thorne makes him the to Lugus Cuhullin. Tony Ikeda gets knocked down with a clothesline. Tony Ikeda throws a wild fist to the face, and he ducks under. Lugus Cuhullin connects with a roundhouse kick to the face. Tony Ikeda tursn around, and Lugus Cuhullin connects with a release german suplex. Lugus Cuhullin makes the tag to Victor Thorne.]
JR-Victor Thorne is making his return into this match.
King-This is Baddddd for Tony.
[Tony Ikeda connects with a jaw breaker on Victor Thorne. Tony Ikeda makes the tag to Jackson Gunner. Tony Ikeda attacks Lugus Cuhullin who tries to get involved. Jackson Gunner sets him up, and he connects with the Burning Samoan!! Jackson Gunner goes into the cover on Victor Thorne. The ref goes into position to make the count. The ref counts 1……………2……………3!!]
JR-Jackson Gunner ends the match for his team to defend the tag team titles.
King-FOOOOOOK
(Jackson Gunner and Tony Ikeda celebrates the Shockwave goes off the air.)
