As Bold and Valora separated, both panting heavily, they circled each other once again. Rubbing her back from the impact, Valora eyed Bold warily, knowing she had to be cautious yet aggressive to win.
In a sudden burst of speed, Valora charged at Bold, aiming for his legs to bring him down to the mat. Bold, however, was ready. He caught Valora mid-charge, lifting her high before slamming her down with a thunderous powerbomb. The crowd erupted as Bold went for a submission, locking in The Claw, his hand pressing Valora's shoulder and neck.
Rose Johnston: The Claw! Bold's got The Claw locked in! This could be it for Valora! This is how he beat Sokolov at Ultra Slam 2!
Valora's face twisted in pain as she struggled against Bold's grip, her hands clawing at his arm, trying to find some way to escape. The referee knelt beside them, asking Valora if she wanted to submit. Still, Valora shook her head defiantly, refusing to give up.
Devin Zeagal: Valora's not tapping out. She's fighting with everything she's got, but Bold's hold is strong.
With a final surge of energy, Valora rolled to her side, shifting her weight and forcing Bold to adjust his grip. This gave her the opening she needed. In a swift move, Valora kicked Bold in the head, breaking the hold and giving herself a chance to recover.
Holly Hudson: What a counter by Valora! She's still in this fight, folks!
Devin Zeagal: What a fantastic night of submission wrestling! We will have our third tap out of the night when this match ends!
Both wrestlers lay on the mat, exhausted from their waged intense battle. As they slowly got to their feet, the respect and determination in their eyes were clear. This match was more than just about the Submission Specialist Championship; it was a testament to their spirit and will to emerge victorious in the face of adversity.
After an intense exchange with Bold, Valora displayed signs of fatigue, her movements increasingly labored. The match had been a grueling testament to both combatants' resilience and determination. However, as the battle wore on, it was evident that the tide was slowly turning in Bold's favor.
Ever the strategist, Valora attempted a high-risk maneuver, hoping to capitalize on Bold's momentary disorientation. However, her timing was slightly off in her fatigued state, leaving her vulnerable. Bold, seizing the opportunity, countered Valora's move with expert precision, catching her in mid-air and locking her into a Dragon Sleeper.
The submission hold was cinched in tight. Valora's face contorted in pain and determination as she fought against the inevitable. The crowd was on the edge of their seats, the tension palpable in the air. Referee Bob Sigro hovered close, his eyes locked on Valora, ready to call the match if she signaled her surrender.
Devin Zeagal: This could be it, folks! The Dragon Sleeper is locked in, and Valora's in trouble!
Holly Hudson: Come on, Valora! Don't tap out!
Despite her best efforts, Valora's resistance began to wane under the relentless pressure of the hold. The minutes she stretched, each second a battle of wills between the two competitors. Finally, with a heart-wrenching display of vulnerability, Valora tapped out, her hand slapping the mat in a rhythmic concession.
Scott Slade, his voice filled with a mixture of excitement and respect, announced the outcome, "Ladies and gentlemen, your winner by submission, and the NEW Submission Specialist Champion, Chuluun Bold!"
The Tokyo Dome erupted in cheers, the fans processing the monumental shift in the match's tide. Referee Bob Sigro, acknowledging the victory, lifted Bold's hand high in the air, the weight of the Submission Specialist Championship belt now his to bear.
As Bold's music filled the arena, signaling his hard-fought victory, Abbigail Dresden rushed down to the ring; concern etched on her face as she checked on Valora. Despite the defeat, the respect between the competitors was evident, and their shared journey in the ring was a testament to their enduring spirit and the unbreakable bond of warriors.
Bold, now holding the championship belt aloft, basked in the glory of his victory, his face a mixture of triumph and exhaustion. The Great Khan had proven himself in the Ultimate Wrestling arena, his victory a new chapter in his storied career. As the lights dimmed and the crowd began to disperse, the echoes of the night's battle lingered, a reminder of the passion, pain, and glory that define the world of professional wrestling.
Devin Zeagal: Fans were going to send it over to Chris for a quick interview while the ring is modified for our main event tonight.
As the anticipation for the main event builds in the Tokyo Dome, the live feed transitions from the excited crowd to Chris Rodgers, who's preparing for a crucial pre-match interview. Despite his recent altercation, Rodgers is ready, albeit with a visible ice pack against his head. He's about to speak with LuLu Biggs, a wrestler known as much for his flamboyant persona as his formidable presence in the ring.
LuLu Biggs makes a striking figure, surrounded by a group of large-breasted, scantily clad Japanese women. His appearance is nothing short of extravagant: a psychedelic fur coat, an abundance of gold jewelry, and a flamboyant pimp hat complete his ensemble.
Chris Rodgers: LuLu, moments before you head into one of the most anticipated matches of your career, the wrestling world is buzzing about your feud with Jeremiah Vastrix. After the harrowing incident at Ultra Slam 2, where Vastrix's actions severely injured Huckleberry, how are you channeling that into tonight's match?
LuLu Biggs, unfazed and exuding confidence, leans into the microphone, his voice a mix of determination and vengeance.
LuLu Biggs: Chris, let me make one thing crystal clear. Jeremiah crossed a line that night, making this more than just business—it's deeply personal. Tonight, I'm not just out to win; I'm out for retribution. Vastrix is gonna learn the hard way what happens when you mess with my people.
Rodgers, probing deeper, questions LuLu about the unique "Pimp Cane on a Pole" match and how he plans to leverage it against Vastrix.
Chris Rodgers: This 'Pimp Cane on a Pole' match is unlike anything we've seen before in Ultimate Wrestling. How do you intend to use this to your advantage against Vastrix?
With a smirk, LuLu responds, his eyes gleaming at the thought of the upcoming match.
LuLu Biggs: Chris, this match was tailor-made for me. Those pimp canes are more than just weapons; they're a symbol of who I am. I'm gonna use them to teach Vastrix a lesson in respect, one he won't soon forget.
The interview takes a turn as Rodgers touches on the deeper, more personal undertones of LuLu's feud with Vastrix.
Chris Rodgers: There's talk that this feud goes beyond the ring, touching on issues you've both faced outside of Ultimate Wrestling. Can you give us any insight into that?
LuLu's demeanor changes, his voice taking on a serious tone as he addresses the question.
LuLu Biggs: Chris, there's a lot that's gone down between me and Vastrix, things I can't get into on TV. But believe me, he knows the pain he's caused. And tonight, I plan on giving him a taste of his own medicine. This is more than just settling a score; it's about justice.
As the interview concludes, the intensity in LuLu's eyes is unmistakable. He's a man on a mission to win a match and settle a deeply personal vendetta. Rodgers, acknowledging the gravity of the situation, thanks LuLu for his time.
Chris Rodgers: Thank you, LuLu, for sharing your thoughts. It's clear tonight's match is more than just a competition; it's a personal battle. Good luck tonight.
With that, the feed cuts back to the announcer team, leaving the audience to ponder the depth of the animosity between LuLu Biggs and Jeremiah Vastrix and the dramatic showdown that awaits them in the ring.
As the camera transitioned back to the announcer team, Devin Zeagal, Holly Hudson, and Rose Johnston were visibly excited, ready to delve into the details of the unique and much-anticipated main event.
Devin Zeagal: Ladies and gentlemen, we are about to witness a first in Ultimate Wrestling history tonight! The main event features the 'Pimp Cane on a Pole' match, where four golden pimp canes have been inserted into specially designed ring posts.
Holly Hudson: That's right, Devin. The rules are simple yet brutal. Our wrestlers can use these canes however they see fit during the match, adding an unpredictable element that's sure to keep us all on the edge of our seats.
Rose Johnston: And remember folks, aside from the inclusion of these canes, all the regular wrestling rules still apply. This is going to be one for the history books.
The live feed then cut to the stage, signaling the start of LuLu Biggs's entrance. The crowd erupted into cheers; as LuLu made his grand entrance, surrounded by a bevy of Japanese ladies dancing around him. The spectacle was nothing short of mesmerizing, a testament to LuLu's showmanship and deep-rooted connection with the Japanese audience from his days in sumo wrestling.
Standing in the center of the ring with a microphone in hand, Scott Slade was ready to introduce LuLu to the roaring crowd.
Scott Slade: Making his way to the ring from The Bronx, New York, weighing in at an astonishing 606 pounds, standing tall at 6 feet 6 inches, the one and only LuLu Biggs!
The fans' cheers intensified, chanting "LuLu! LuLu! LuLu! LuLu!" in unison, creating a thunderous atmosphere that reverberated throughout the Tokyo Dome. LuLu, basking in the adoration, made his way down the aisle with a confident swagger, his flamboyant attire and the entourage of dancing ladies adding to the spectacle of his entrance.
As LuLu stepped into the ring, the anticipation for the main event reached a fever pitch, setting the stage for a match that promised to be both thrilling and unforgettable.
The electric atmosphere in the Tokyo Dome, still buzzing from LuLu Biggs's dynamic entrance, shifted as the announcer team prepared the crowd for Jeremiah Vastrix's arrival. Devin Zeagal, Holly Hudson, and Rose Johnston were all visibly excited, each aware of Jeremiah's unique allure to the arena.
Devin Zeagal: Next up, we have the remarkable Jeremiah Vastrix, the current Ultimate Wrestling Heavyweight Franchise Champion. His entrances are more than just a walk to the ring; they're an experience.
Rose Johnston: They don't call him God's gift for nothing, Devin. This is one of the most sexist men on the planet. Olivia Cooke is so lucky; I'd give anything to marry Jeremiah.
Holly Hudson: Ew, could stop fawning over a married man like some teenager with a high school crush. He's off the market now. Grow up.
As anticipation built, the lights dimmed ceremoniously. The opening chords of "I'm the Coolest" by Alice Cooper filled the air, signaling the entrance of a wrestler who was much more than just his physical abilities.
Jeremiah appeared on stage, instantly capturing the audience's attention as pyrotechnics went off behind the Ultra-Tron. His walk was confident, each step a testament to his storied career and the respect he commanded in the wrestling world. Adorned in his signature attire, the Ultimate Wrestling Heavyweight Franchise Championship belt prominently displayed around his waist, and the mysterious red orb glistening, Vastrix exuded the confidence of a champion, and his brightly glowing cybernetic red eyes flickered with intensity.
In the ring with a microphone, Scott Slade encapsulated the crowd's excitement with his introduction.
Scott Slade: Approaching the ring from Brackley, England, making his home in Hong Kong, China, weighing in at 247 pounds and standing 6 feet 4 inches tall, he is the reigning Ultimate Wrestling Heavyweight Franchise Champion, 'God's Gift,' Jeremiah Vastrix!
Vastrix's interaction with the crowd as he made his way down the aisle—whether through nods, smiles, or gestures—underscored his deep bond with the wrestling community.
Devin Zeagal: Jeremiah's approach to wrestling is unparalleled. His technical mastery and unmistakable flair set him apart in every contest.
Holly Hudson: Not to mention his cybernetic eyes and partial part of his brain that's been replaced with an advanced microcomputer. The more you wrestle against Jeremiah, the more data he has on you, the harder it is to beat him. Plus, I've been told he can predict maneuvers in real time through complex A.I. algorithms.
As Vastrix entered the ring, the anticipation among the crowd surged. The stage was set for a main event highlighting the best of Ultimate Wrestling. It featured two of its most charismatic and talented stars, ready to give their all in a battle for supremacy.
As Vastrix meticulously unbuckled his championship belt, the atmosphere in the Tokyo Dome was electric, the crowd buzzing with anticipation for the clash between two titans of the wrestling world. However, an unexpected twist grabbed everyone's attention before the match could officially begin.
LuLu Biggs, seizing the moment, snatched the microphone from Scott Slade's grasp, his voice booming through the arena. "Jeremiah!" he bellowed, his tone fierce and challenging. "You should be putting that title on the line tonight! Honor the rematch Huckleberry deserved before his career was cut short!"
Initially, Vastrix appeared unmoved by LuLu's demand, his expression stoic as he continued preparing for the match. However, LuLu, undeterred, escalated his taunts, directly targeting Vastrix's pride. "What's the matter, Jeremiah? Afraid you might lose to me? Show some spine, man!" LuLu's words, sharp and provoking, echoed across the dome.
The crowd's reaction shifted as they picked up on LuLu's challenge, their boos directed at Vastrix growing louder, a tangible pressure mounting on the reigning champion. Caught in a storm of public opinion and LuLu's relentless taunting, Vastrix's resolve wavered.
After a tense moment that felt like an eternity, Vastrix's demeanor changed; a nod of concession finally came. "Fine," he declared, his voice cutting through the noise, "the title is on the line."
Sensing the heightened stakes and the crowd's electric energy, Scott Slade took back the microphone. "Ladies and gentlemen," he announced, his voice amplifying the excitement, "this match will now be for the Ultimate Wrestling Franchise Championship!"
The announcement sent the crowd into a frenzy, their cheers deafening as the realization set in that the evening's main event had just escalated to a championship bout.
LuLu, smirking triumphantly, appeared to relish the turn of events; his strategy to provoke Vastrix into putting the title on the line had worked to his advantage. He paced the ring, absorbing the crowd's energy, seemingly convinced that he had outmaneuvered Vastrix before the match began.
Devin Zeagal: Incredible! LuLu Biggs has just changed the game! We're now looking at a championship match, folks!
Holly Hudson: LuLu's mind games have paid off. But will this sudden shift work in his favor, or has he just added more fuel to Vastrix's fire?
Rose Johnston: One thing's for sure, the stakes couldn't be higher.
As the realization settled in, both wrestlers prepared for the bout, the championship belt glistening under the lights, symbolizing what was at stake. The match had transformed from a clash of titans to a battle for one of the most coveted titles in Wrestling, promising a showdown that would be remembered for years.
As the bell echoed through the Tokyo Dome, LuLu Biggs, and Vastrix charged at each other with a ferocity that immediately captivated the audience. Their movements were rapid and fierce, a blur of aggression and intent that set the tone for the brutal contest ahead.
The initial exchange was a flurry of hard strikes, with LuLu using his massive frame to land heavy blows that seemed to shake Vastrix to his core. However, Vastrix, not one to be easily overpowered, responded with swift, precise kicks aimed at LuLu's knees, attempting to chop down the giant.
Devin Zeagal: Look at them go! This isn't just a wrestling match; it's a street fight!
Holly Hudson: You can feel the hate from here.
The fight quickly spilled outside the ring, where the intensity escalated. LuLu grabbed Vastrix and hurled him into the barricade, the impact eliciting a collective gasp from the crowd. But Vastrix, ever resilient, used the environment to his advantage, springboarding off the barricade for a counterattack, landing a flying elbow that sent LuLu staggering back.
Holly Hudson: The action is relentless! Neither man is holding back, and they will go to any lengths to win this match.
Rose Johnston: Go, Jeremiah! Kick his fat ass!
Devin Zeagal: Woah! Easy, no fat shaming on this program.
Rose Johnston: Sorry Devin...
Devin Zeagal: Oh, Rose, I could never stay mad at you.
Holly Hudson: Good grief.
Their battle was punctuated by the use of the environment as a weapon. Vastrix found a steel chair and swung it with lethal intent. Still, LuLu saw him and caught the chair mid-swing, wrenching it from Vastrix's grip and using it to deliver a punishing blow across directly to Vastrix’s metal bone and flesh skull. His red glowing eyes flickering as he hit the floor with a thud.
Holly Hudson: These two are tearing each other apart! They want to kill one another.
Devin Zeagal: I'm sure Bob Sigro has the match under control, Holly.
LuLu picked up Vastrix and tossed him back into the ring before rolling back inside himself. Then, seizing the momentary upper hand, attempted to use one of the golden pimp canes, pulling it from the ring post with a triumphant roar. However, Vastrix's agility came to the fore as he dodged the swing, delivering a low blow that caused the big man to drop to his knees, holding his groin area.
Devin Zeagal: Vastrix dodges the cane! This match is a testament to his survival instincts.
Holly Hudson: Bob Sigro did not look happy about that low blow. Looks like Vastrix has been warned.
Rose Johnston: What's going to do? Disqualify him? Everyone knows you can't win a championship belt on a disqualification. Sigro would be doing a disservice to LuLu if he did that.
Devin Zeagal: She's right about that, Holly.
The crowd was on the edge of their seats as Vastrix climbed to the top rope, signaling a high-risk maneuver. But as he launched himself towards LuLu, the Bronx behemoth caught him in mid-air, transitioning into a spine-shattering Power Bomb that left both men lying on the mat, gasping for breath.
Holly Hudson: What a counter by LuLu! The strength it took to catch Vastrix in mid-air and deliver that Power Bomb is unbelievable.
As both competitors struggled to their feet, the match continued with a series of grueling exchanges. Vastrix managed to lock in a Sleeper Hold, trying to sap the strength from LuLu's massive frame. But LuLu, drawing on reserves of strength, powered out, flinging Vastrix over his shoulder and onto the mat.
Rose Johnston: The resilience of these two is incredible. When you think one has the upper hand, the other finds a way to fight back.
Holly Hudson: Vastrix just picked up the cane that was dropped on the wrestling mat.
Devin Zeagal: And LuLu just sprinted to the turnbuckle and pulled another! This could get interesting people!
The Tokyo Dome was buzzing with anticipation as both LuLu Biggs and Vastrix stood armed with golden pimp canes, the unlikely weapons adding an unexpected twist to the already intense match. LuLu, with a flamboyant flourish, twirled his cane with the skill of a seasoned pimp, eliciting roars of approval from the crowd. Vastrix, not to be outdone, demonstrated his proficiency with the cane, his movements precise and dangerous.
Devin Zeagal: This is unbelievable! We're witnessing a pimp-cane duel in the middle of the Tokyo Dome!
Holly Hudson: I never thought I'd see the day. Both men are out for blood and using those canes like seasoned swordsmen!
The clash of canes resonated through the arena, each strike a testament to the wrestlers' determination and raw animosity towards one another. LuLu landed a vicious hit to Vastrix's head, a splatter of blood marking the impact. Vastrix retaliated with a brutal strike of his own, leaving a gash on LuLu's forehead, the crimson staining his face and dripping onto the mat.
Rose Johnston: This is brutal! Look at the blood! Oh, Holly, I can't bear to watch! Jeremiah's beautiful face is being mutilated!
Holly Hudson: Maybe you should reconsider your career choice. This isn't exactly a job for the squeamish.
The duel continued, metal clashing against metal, echoing around the dome. The audience was captivated, their cheers and gasps punctuating each devastating blow. The wrestlers' faces were masks of intensity and pain, their eyes locked in a fierce battle of wills.
Devin Zeagal: Both men are busted open now! This match has escalated into something far more primal!
LuLu managed a powerful swing as the cane duel climaxed, knocking Vastrix's cane from his grasp. Seizing the moment, LuLu aimed for a decisive blow. However, Vastrix, ever resilient, ducked under the attack, launching a counter-assault that sent LuLu reeling in the turnbuckle.
Holly Hudson: Vastrix's agility saved him there! But without his cane, he's at a disadvantage.
Vastrix then sprinted into the corner after LuLu and leaped into the air, hitting a massive cyborg splash that knocked the wind out of Biggs. As Vastrix moved out of the corner, Biggs collapsed to the mat, a bloody mess. Michael, trying to keep up with appearance, began to do the Cyborg shuffle, dancing around like an asinine fool, just like his son would, exciting all the female fans in the upper bowl and even those watching at home.
Vastrix's showboating gave LuLu the brief respite he needed. When Vastrix finally went for the cover, LuLu powered out with a thunderous kick after just a one-count, sending Vastrix sprawling across the ring. The crowd erupted, their cheers a mixture of disbelief and admiration for the resilience displayed by the Bronx behemoth.
Devin Zeagal: LuLu kicks out! Putting him down will take more than a cyborg splash and a dance!
Rose Johnston: Jeremiah, what are you doing? This is no time for dancing!
Devin Zeagal: Hey! A man’s got to dance… when a man’s gotta dance.
As the match progressed, the brutality escalated. LuLu, fueled by adrenaline and the crowd's roar, launched a counteroffensive, his powerful hands grabbing Vastrix and tossing him like a ragdoll from one corner of the ring to the other. Each impact left Vastrix struggling for breath, but his cybernetic enhancements and sheer willpower kept him in the fight.
Holly Hudson: LuLu is turning the tables now. The sheer power of this man is unbelievable!
LuLu Biggs, regaining his footing after the powerful kick-out, stared down Vastrix with a renewed fire in his eyes. The crowd's chants grew louder, rallying behind LuLu as he prepared to make his next move.
LuLu charged at Vastrix with surprising speed for a man his size, his every step shaking the ring. Vastrix, quick on his feet, dodged LuLu's initial assault and attempted to retaliate with a series of high-speed kicks aimed at LuLu's legs, trying to chop the giant down.
Devin Zeagal: Vastrix is using his agility to his advantage, but he'll need more than that to take LuLu down!
Holly Hudson: LuLu's not making it easy for him. Look at the power in those charges!
In a display of his brute strength, LuLu managed to corner Vastrix against the ropes. With Vastrix temporarily trapped, LuLu unleashed a series of heavy forearm smashes, each blow echoing throughout the arena, showcasing the raw power LuLu possessed.
Holly Hudson: Man, that fat bastard is something else. He's like a freight train when he gets going!
However, Vastrix's resilience and tactical mind were to be considered. Slipping under LuLu's arm in a swift maneuver, Vastrix managed to create some distance between them. He quickly ascended the turnbuckle, aiming for a high-risk move to shift the momentum in his favor.
As Vastrix launched himself off the top rope, aiming for a flying crossbody, LuLu showcased his surprising agility for his size by catching Vastrix mid-air. The crowd gasped in anticipation of what was to come.
With Vastrix firmly in grasp, LuLu showcased his incredible strength by transitioning into a devastating version of his signature move, the Pancake Flop. The entire arena shook as LuLu brought Vastrix crashing down to the mat with immense force.
Devin Zeagal: Good God! LuLu must have broken every rib in Jeremiah's body with that Pancake Flop!
Holly Hudson: That's got to hurt. Vastrix is going to feel that in the morning, if not sooner!
Despite the punishing move, Vastrix's tenacity shone through as he kicked out just before the three-count, much to the astonishment of everyone watching. Both competitors lay on the mat, breathing heavily, a testament to the grueling nature of their battle. Blood still poured from the wounds on their foreheads, as they tried to wipe it away from entering their eyes.
As they slowly made their way to their feet, the crowd's cheers reached a fever pitch, knowing they were witnessing a match for the ages. LuLu, spotting one of the golden pimp canes still lodged in the turnbuckle, made a beeline for it, his intentions clear.
Holly Hudson: Oh no, LuLu's got his hands on a pimp cane again!
With a cane in hand, LuLu turned to face Vastrix, who was still recovering. The tension in the Tokyo Dome was palpable as everyone awaited LuLu's next move. However, Vastrix, ever the strategist, had his own plan. Ducking under LuLu's swing, he rolled out of the ring, creating some much-needed space between himself and the looming threat of the pimp cane.
Devin Zeagal: Smart move by Vastrix, getting out of harm's way. But how long can he keep dodging LuLu's onslaught?
Holly Hudson: Regardless you can tell he needs a minute to catch his breath here.Think things over a bit.
Outside the ring, Vastrix regrouped, his mind racing to devise a new strategy to overcome the behemoth that was LuLu Biggs. Inside the ring, LuLu, cane in hand, paced like a caged animal, waiting for his opponent to make the next move. Eventually, LuLu got tired of waiting and rolled out of the ring to break the count and take the fight to Vastrix before he got counted out and escaped his clutches through a disqualification. The two began to brawl outside of the ring again. Both fighters were drenched in each other's blood.
The crowd was on its feet, the air thick with anticipation and the metallic scent of blood. Each blow delivered by the two was felt by everyone watching as if the very foundation of the Tokyo Dome shook with their every move.
In a swift turn of events, Vastrix, capitalizing on a momentary lapse in LuLu's offense, executed a masterful reversal of an attempted Irish whip. Using LuLu's momentum against him, Vastrix sent the giant crashing into the steel steps with a thunderous impact echoing throughout the arena. The sound of metal clashing against flesh and bone was a grim reminder of the match's stakes.
Devin Zeagal: Vastrix turns the tables! Those steel steps are unforgiving, and LuLu felt their full force! I think he might hurt his knee pretty badly.
Holly Hudson: That could be a game-changer. LuLu's size is both his strength and his weakness.
The crowd gasped as Vastrix, unsatisfied with the impact, lifted the heavy steel steps with a grunt of effort. His hot glowing eyes, a mix of determination and cold fury, were fixed on the prone form of LuLu, who lay face down, trying to recover from the collision.
With a heave, Vastrix brought the steps crashing down onto LuLu's spine, eliciting a gut-wrenching scream of pain from the Bronx giant. The sound of steel meeting flesh reverberated through the Tokyo Dome, sending shivers down the spine of everyone present.
Holly Hudson: Oh my God! Vastrix is relentless! Those steps could cause serious injury! This is so not like him, but maybe Biggs has gotten to him.
Rose Johnston: This has gone beyond a wrestling match. They're trying to Kill each other! Someone needs to stop the damn match!
LuLu, writhing in agony on the floor, clutched his back, his face contorted in pain. Vastrix, his expression stoic, stared down, admiring his handiwork, the steel steps now stained with LuLu's blood.
Devin Zeagal: I've never seen Vastrix this ruthless. He's taken the fight to a whole new level.
The referee, Bob Sigro, hovered nearby, torn between his duty to enforce the rules and the unspoken understanding that this match was beyond conventional regulations. His warnings to Vastrix were met with a glare that silenced any further attempts to intervene.
Holly Hudson: Bob Sigro is in a tough spot. How does he handle this?
As LuLu struggled to his knees, the pain evident in every move, Vastrix circled him like a predator, waiting to strike again. Vastrix rolled back into the ring and onto his feet as the count increased. However, instead of letting LuLu be counted out, he climbed up to the top turnbuckle that still had a pimp cane. He dislodged it from the ring post and held it high for everyone in the Tokyo dome.
As Biggs slowly got back to his feet and turned around, Vastrix jumped off the top turnbuckle, springboarding into the air and drove the golden metal part of the cane straight down into LuLu Forehead, gashing him deep and wide. LuLu fell back like a chopped-down tree onto his back on the floor, blood squirting out of his forehead like something out of a horror film.
Holly Hudson: Holy shit!
Devin Zeagal: You don’t see that everyday…
The Japanese prostitutes who accompanied LuLu to the ring and had been watching with concerned expressions as their pimp daddy took a beating began to scream in horror at the sight of LuLu bleeding so profusely. Referee Bob Sigro paced the ring in a panic, continuing the count while debating whether to call the match.
As Michael got to his feet, LuLu's girls began attacking him, kicking, punching, scratching. It was clear Micheal did not know how to react to the insanity that was taking place as the hookers mauled him against the guard railing. Then, one of the girls pulled out a can of mace from her clutch purse and sprayed it straight into his face. While it didn't blind his cybernetic eyes, the mace substance he inhaled caused Vastrix to begin choking and coughing and forced him to his knees.
Rose Johnston: That's it, this has gone too far!
Security rushed to the scene, pulling the women away as they continued their frenzied attack on the fallen Vastrix up until they were completely separated from him.
Devin Zeagal: Security is out here trying to regain some control, but the damage has been done.
As the referee's count reached its climax, the bell sounded, signaling the end of the match. Scott Slade, amidst the chaos, announced the double disqualification due to the double count-out, his voice barely audible over the crowd's din and the ongoing scuffle outside the ring.
Devin Zeagal: It's a double disqualification, fans. Neither man could answer the count, but this feud was far from over.
Medical personnel, led by Ultimate Wrestling's lead physician, Dr. William Drake, rushed to the scene, their primary concern being the well-being of the competitors. They attended to LuLu's severe head wound and Vastrix's injuries, their professional calm a stark contrast to the chaos that had unfolded.
Holly Hudson: The medical team is out here now. Let's hope LuLu and Vastrix can recover from this.
As the feed cut to the announcer's table, Devin Zeagal addressed the viewers, the aftermath of the brutal match evident in his solemn tone.
Devin Zeagal: Ladies and gentlemen, we're out of time. Tonight, we witnessed a battle beyond a wrestling match's confines. Tune in to Saturday Night Showdown for more Ultimate Wrestling action. Let's hope for a speedy recovery for LuLu Biggs and Jeremiah Vastrix.
The screen faded to black, leaving the audience to ponder the repercussions of the violent clash and the future of the rivalry between LuLu Biggs and Jeremiah Vastrix.
Guantanamo Bay
As Air Force One rested on the tarmac, the door opened to reveal the imposing figures of the base General and the Guantanamo Bay prison warden, standing at attention to greet their Commander-in-Chief. The bright Caribbean sun cast long shadows on the ground, a stark contrast to the gravity of the occasion.
General Adams, a man whose career was as distinguished as the medals on his chest, stepped forward with a crisp salute that President McStrump returned with equal formality. Beside him, Warden Hayes, the stern overseer of Guantanamo's notorious detention facilities, offered a firm handshake, his expression unreadable.
General Adams: Welcome to Guantanamo Bay, Mr. President. It's an honor to host you and address the matters of national security that have brought you here.
Warden Hayes, nodding in agreement, turned his gaze towards Derrick and Steve Shannon, extending a hand in greeting.
Warden Hayes: Mr. McStrump and Mr. Shannon, your efforts in these challenging times have not gone unnoticed. We're prepared to assist in any way necessary.
The group was quickly ushered into a secure vehicle and driven to the command center. This fortress-like building served as the nerve center of the base. A meeting room had been prepared, with maps and documents on a large, polished table.
Once seated, the conversation turned to the purpose of their visit. President McStrump, his demeanor more presidential now than it had been on the plane, addressed the room with a commanding presence.
Ronald McStrump: General, Warden, our country faces threats from within that are as dangerous as any foreign adversary. The individuals we've detained here represent the tip of the iceberg. We must understand the full scope of their plans and networks.
General Adams, his face a mask of duty, nodded in understanding.
General Adams: Mr. President, we share your concerns. Our teams have been working tirelessly to extract actionable intelligence. The special holding cells have state-of-the-art interrogation facilities designed for this purpose.
Warden Hayes interjected, his voice steady and assured.
Warden Hayes: The detainees have been kept under the strictest security protocols since the Ares Metaxas incident. Given the severity of their alleged crimes, we've ensured that their confinement meets the necessary standards.
The discussion turned to the logistics of the President's visit to the cells, with the General and the Warden emphasizing the importance of maintaining the highest security measures. President McStrump listened intently, his thoughts on the information he hoped to glean from this visit and the impact it would to finding a cure for what had been done to him.
After the meeting, the group reached the detention block, a heavily guarded structure surrounded by barbed wire and watchtowers. The air was thick with tension as they passed through multiple security checkpoints, each layer bringing them closer to the heart of Guantanamo's most secure cells.
As they neared the entrance to the high-security wing, President McStrump halted, facing the guards with an air of finality. His skin was freshly spray-tanned, and his toupee was slicked back without a single strand of hair out of place. He had done his best to hide the fact that he was slowly losing his mind and hadn't slept for weeks.
Ronald McStrump: This is where you stop. I'm going in alone with only my people.
The guards, taken aback, exchanged wary looks, their adherence to protocol clashing with the President's firm directive.
Lead Guard: Sir, with all due respect, our orders are clear. No one enters the detainee area unaccompanied, not even the President. It's for your safety.
McStrump's face reddened, his patience fraying at the edges as he bristled at the challenge to his authority.
Ronald McStrump: Your orders? I am your Commander in Chief, and we are under Martial Law! Your hesitation is not just insubordination; it's a breach of national security. Do you want to be the one responsible for that? Do you want to find out how being on the other side of these bars feels?
The Lead Guard stiffened under McStrump's glare, the weight of the President's words bearing down on him.
Lead Guard: No, Sir. We'll remain outside. Please proceed.
Nodding sharply, McStrump pushed past them, the heavy door closing with a resounding clang that echoed down the bleak corridor. The silence was oppressive, punctuated only by Shannon's, his son Derrick's, and the President himself footsteps as they moved with purpose toward Monica Vastrix's cell.
As he passed a dimly lit cell, a voice slithered out from the shadows, dripping with venomous sarcasm. It was a frail and weak-looking Dr. Summeroff who looked like he'd seen better days.
Dr. Summeroff: Ah, the illustrious President McStrump graces us with his presence. How does it feel to watch your country crumble under your watch?
McStrump stopped in his tracks, his fists clenching as he faced the source of the taunt. Dr. Summeroff sat on the edge of his cot, a sinister grin spreading.
Ronald McStrump: You'd do well to keep your mouth shut, Summeroff, or I'll have you dragged out to the yard and shot! You're lucky I still deem you useful, or you'd be dead right now for what your people did to Ronald Jr!
Dr. Summeroff chuckled, unfazed by the threat, his eyes glinting with madness through his thick coke bottle lenses of his spectacles.
Dr. Summeroff: Oh, but Ronald, the game has just begun. The Blob's wrath for your little incursion in Mt. Vernon has just started. The seeds of your destruction and humanity's punishment for their transgressions have already been sown. There is nothing you can do to stop it now, I have seen it in my dreams.
Seething, McStrump turned on his heel and continued down the corridor, each step fueled by a growing fury. He finally arrived at Monica Vastrix's cell, his gaze locking onto hers with an intensity that could melt steel.
Ronald McStrump: Ms. Vastrix, you'll tell me what was in that concoction you threw in my face. Now!
Monica remained silent, her defiance palpable in the set of her jaw and the unyielding stare that met McStrump's.
Frustration boiling over, McStrump glanced back to find Steve Shannon lingering at a discreet distance, his presence a silent support. Stepping forward calmly, Shannon spoke with a cold pragmatism.
Steve Shannon: Mr. President, perhaps we... encourage Ms. Vastrix to cooperate more. We have methods to loosen her tongue.
McStrump, his resolve crystallizing, gave a curt nod. The air in the corridor grew heavier, charged with the imminent crossing of moral lines. Shannon pulled out a small low-yield miniature EMP device and pressed the button, killing all of the security cameras in the corridor and what unnatural lighting there was. His son Derrick then pulled out a small handgun and shot Monica straight in the left leg, causing her to scream and fall to the floor of her cell with tears flowing down her cheeks.
Ms. Vastrix: Oow... You! Foul! Bloody beast of a man! I will never help you! You're going to suffer for the rest of your pitiful existence!
Ronald McStrump: Tell me now, Monica! Ever since that day, I've been haunted by hallucinations that are driving me insane! I won't hesitate to have my son end your miserable life! Tell me what drug was in it!
Ms. Vastrix: Then do it! You're not getting anything out of me!
As Derrick McStrump angrily went to fire his gun again, a familiar voice stopped him. It was the one-time wrestler, Victor Vendredi, AKA "The Baron of Earth." He also looked as if he'd seen better days. He had a large dark long beard that had not been groomed in what looked to be eight or nine months. His hair was matted, and he looked like he was suffering from a lice infection.
Vendredi: Stop! I won't have my mother's meddling lead to the death of this woman!
The sudden appearance of Victor Vendredi, disheveled yet with a commanding presence, brought an immediate tension to the air. Derrick halted, his finger still on the trigger, as all eyes turned to Vendredi, standing defiantly despite his ragged appearance.
Ronald McStrump, taken aback by the interruption, narrowed his eyes at the man who had once been a celebrated figure in the wrestling world and was now a prisoner under his administration. He'd been arrested along with Monica after they barged into the Oval Office after McStrump refused to honor a meeting with Monica about the rebuilding of Los Angeles.
Ronald McStrump: “Vendredi? How did you— Never mind. You're in no position to demand anything. This woman," he gestured towards Monica, still writhing in pain on the cell floor, "holds the key to me finding an antidote for whatever poison it was she threw in my face.”
Victor Vendredi, his voice rough but unwavering, stepped closer to the bars of his cell, his eyes fixed on McStrump.
Vendredi: My mother might have her reasons, but I won't stand by and watch an innocent pay the price for our family's battles. There's a bigger picture here, McStrump, that you're too blind to see. My mother was the one who crafted the powder that Ms. Vastrix used.
Steve Shannon, ever the tactician, saw an opportunity in Vendredi's unexpected intervention. He stepped forward, addressing the President with a cautious tone.
Steve Shannon: Mr. President, perhaps Vendredi can be useful to us. If he's willing to intervene on Vastrix's behalf, maybe he knows a cure or antidote that would end your affliction.
Derrick, still holding the gun, looked to his father for direction, his earlier rage now mixed with confusion at the unfolding situation. Ronald McStrump, considering Shannon's suggestion, turned his gaze back to Vendredi, a calculating look in his eye.
Ronald McStrump: Vendredi, you want to save her? Then talk. Tell me what I need to know about the powder and about your mother's plans, and maybe, just maybe, I'll reconsider Ms. Vastrix's situation here.
Vendredi's expression, defiance and resignation, seemed to weigh his options. The silence that followed was heavy, filled with the potential for compromise and further conflict.
Vendredi: "I... I don't have all the answers you seek. But I know enough to say that the path you're on, the violence and the fear, is only going to lead to more suffering. Not just for them," he gestured to Monica, "but for all of us. There's a storm coming, McStrump, bigger than any of us. And if we don't change course, if we don't find a way to work together, it's going to consume us all.”
The weight of Vendredi's words hung in the air, a stark warning amidst the cold steel and concrete of the prison. McStrump, faced with an unexpected plea for reason from a man he considered an enemy, found himself at a crossroads. The tension crackled like static electricity. President McStrump, driven by fury and desperation, barely registered Victor Vendredi's warning, his mind clouded by the singular goal of extracting information.
Ronald McStrump: Derrick, end this charade now. Shoot both of them!
Derrick, his weapon trained on Vendredi, hesitated for a fraction of a second as Vendredi spoke again, his voice carrying an undeniable weight of sincerity and urgency.
Vendredi: Wait! Listen to me, Mr. President. What you've been experiencing aren't figments of your imagination or some drug-induced hallucinations. They're real. The powder my mother used on you is an ancient voodoo concoction meant to open the veil between our world and the spirit realm. It was used in ancient times in Africa as a way for tribes to commune with their ancestors and long-dead tribal Chiefs.
Monica's cries from her cell punctuated Vendredi's revelation, her pain and fear lending a frantic edge to her pleas.
Monica Vastrix: Victor, no! Don't give him what he wants! Let him suffer in his ignorance!
McStrump, initially ready to dismiss Vendredi's claims as fantastical nonsense, found himself pausing. Rather than reinforcing his skepticism, Monica's vehement protests began to sow the seeds of doubt. Could there be truth to Vendredi's words? The persistent visions of past Presidents, so vivid and accusatory, suddenly took on a new, chilling context.
Ronald McStrump: Spirits? Ancestors? You expect me to believe this... this voodoo magic bullshit is real?
Undeterred by McStrump's incredulity, Vendredi pressed on, his gaze never wavering from the President's.
Vendredi: Believe it or not, Mr. President, it's true. My mother's intentions were to awaken your conscience, to make you face the legacy of your actions through the eyes of those who built and preserved this nation before you.
The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by Monica's labored breathing and soft moans of pain. McStrump, a man unaccustomed to entertaining notions of the supernatural, found himself at a crossroads of belief and skepticism.
Still pointing the gun at Vendredi but now clearly conflicted, Derrick looked to his father for guidance, the weapon's aim wavering slightly.
Ronald McStrump: And what? Do you have some way to undo this spell?
Vendredi nodded, a glimmer of hope flickering in his eyes.
Vendredi: There is a way, but it will require my mother, Adowa Vendredi. She is the only one with knowledge of this ancient magic and the power to wield it. I may be the Baron, but my mother has been around far longer than I have on this Earth.
McStrump, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts, lowered his hand, signaling Derrick to stand down.
Ronald McStrump, weighing Vendredi's words against his desperate need for relief from the spectral visitations, decided to entertain the possibility of a solution, however unorthodox it might seem.
Ronald McStrump: Alright, Vendredi. If your mother can end this curse, I'm willing to meet with her. But let's get one thing straight—I'm not here to play games or make grand gestures. I want results.
Derrick, his gun still in hand, looked uncertain between his father and Vendredi, trying to gauge the seriousness of the situation. The idea that they were even considering negotiating with what he deemed "mystical nonsense" was beyond him.
Sensing the delicate balance of power at play, Steve Shannon stepped in with a cautionary tone, his mind working through the implications of their next moves.
Steve Shannon: We should proceed with caution, Mr. President. Vendredi's cooperation could be invaluable, but we must remain vigilant. We can't afford to be seen as credulous or desperate.
With a nod of acknowledgment to Shannon's words, Vendredi maintained his composure, understanding the precarious nature of the agreement.
Vendredi: My mother will require respect and a genuine willingness to engage with her terms. She's not one to be manipulated or underestimated.
Monica's voice rang out from her cell again, filled with a mixture of pain and defiance.
Monica Vastrix: Don't do this, Victor! They won't honor any deal!
Ignoring Monica's protests, McStrump decided, his tone brooking no argument.
Ronald McStrump: Enough! Guards unlock Vendredi's cell. We're taking him to Air Force One. He will arrange this meeting with his mother, and we'll see where that leads us.
The guards, standing by attentively, moved to comply with the President's orders, unlocking Vendredi's cell with a heavy clank. Vendredi stepped out, expression of resigned determination, aware of the gamble he was taking.
As Vendredi was escorted out towards Air Force One, McStrump followed, with Shannon and Derrick in tow, each man lost in his thoughts about the uncertain path they were embarking on. The promise of relief from the voodoo curse was a powerful motivator for McStrump. Yet, the true cost of this endeavor remained to be seen.
The Desert: Cairo, Egypt
Under the relentless Egyptian sun, the vast desert lay undisturbed, a testament to the timeless dance of nature and history. The sands, a golden sea, whispered tales of the ancient past, concealing secrets beneath their ever-shifting surface. It had been exactly 1,460 days since the desecration of a sacred tomb by the hands of Vlad Tepes and his crew. The earth had since reclaimed its violated sanctum, burying the evidence of their intrusion beneath layers of sand and silence.
But beneath this seemingly peaceful veneer, a stirring began. At first, it was but a slight movement, a disturbance barely noticeable amidst the desert's vast expanse. Then, slowly, with deliberate patience born of millennia, the first sign of awakening appeared. Fingers, ashen and adorned with the remnants of regal wrappings, pierced through the compacted sand. They clawed with a strength that belied their ancient origin, each motion more determined than the last.
As the sand gave way, a hand emerged, its grasp firm and unyielding. Then another, mirroring the first in its silent resolve. Inch by inch, a figure of immense power and forgotten majesty forced its way through the earth that had been its prison. The desert air, hot and dry, bore witness to this resurrection, carrying the faintest echoes of ancient incantations long lost to the modern world.
The figure, a once-revered Pharaoh whose name had been erased by time and the arrogance of those who dared to disturb his eternal slumber, now reclaimed his place among the living. His emergence was not marked by fanfare or the adulation of crowds; it was a solitary rebirth, witnessed only by the endless desert and the distant, indifferent stars.
As the Pharaoh stood fully upright, the sands cascading from his regal form, he surveyed the horizon. His eyes, imbued with the wisdom of ages and the power of the gods, burned with a resolve that transcended time itself. This was no mere man, but a deity in human form, awakened by the sacrilege committed against his resting place.
The desert, ever a keeper of secrets, now held within its embrace a force unleashed, a ruler of the ancient world reborn. The Pharaoh's return was not for revenge but for restoration, to reclaim what had been lost and to right the wrongs inflicted upon his legacy.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the dunes, the Pharaoh took his first steps. Each footfall was a decree, a proclamation of his undiminished authority and the beginning of a new chapter in a story as old as civilization itself.
The desert, once a silent guardian of the past, now bore witness to the awakening of a power that had slumbered through the ages. And as the Pharaoh disappeared into the twilight, the sands whispered of his return, a tale that would soon unfold beneath the gaze of an unsuspecting world.
Curated and voted 100% by Selection of the best articles about Games and eSports in Hive.