OWA Promos

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-There is a TWO promo/2000 word limit for our regular bi-weekly shows and THREE promo/3000 word limit for our major events! For our side show Atlantis it is only ONE 2000 word promo.

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-You must wait 48 HOURS before double posting. If your opponent has not responded to your first promo within a 48 hour period and you'd like to release another, you may do so. However keep in mind that with the promo limit, if you expend both promos, your opponent has the right to do their two (or three on a PPV week) uninterrupted.

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Cyka Promo #2 July 22nd 2022, 4:14 pm by **Michael Bishop**

“I should have been there, but I was not…”

We are in Chicago, the city still reeling from the loss of one of its own. Mourning the death of its greatest Champion. The heaven’s weep, and rain falls in Graceland Cemetary, a stone’s throw from the coast. It’s quiet, even while nestled well inside Uptown-Chi, it’s dull of surrounding noise. And deserted, almost…. Cyka walks down one of the path’s to the edge of the death garden, on a hill where Lake Michigan was visible from. He’s alone, there’s a somber tone to his walk. He knows where he’s heading.

There… he finds a small tree… he walks up and kneels next to a large headstone belonging to the leader of the Mafia, his brother in arms… his friend.

MICHAEL BISHOP

Loving Father, Husband, and Friend

“The Greatest”

May 11th, 1987 | June 24th, 2022

He doesn’t know what to say, no words come to mind as he removes his ball cap and places it on the granite top. A white sox hat, belonging to Mike’s favorite team, a gift dating years back when they first shared a foxhole. “-Something to help you fit in” he remembers Michael joking.

He heard the rumors; Frontline traveling through time, trying to find some sort of miracle. Even with all he had seen, all he had encountered, he didn’t know what to make of it. It wasn’t his place. He didn’t have an Iron man suit, powers, some magic miracle device. Neither did Mike, that’s why even knee deep in Season 4 when things got tough, when lightning started to be slung, he followed him through thick and thin. Cyka wasn’t like Jeff, like Chris, he wasn’t a hero. Just a soldier of a group without its leader. And there, as he knelt in the rain, three was no time travel, no tricks, no gods. Just his friend’s grave.

“...It should have been the other way around, friend” Cyka’s voice is heavy, he looks off and around, trying to make sense of all of this. And yet, the same nightmarish reality they all continued to live in. He rests a hand on top of the stone, he never did get to give Mike one last proper goodbye… Just a “see you later”, thinking there was going to be one last Hurrah. There wasn’t. “It was not your time to die… It is so fucking unfair. All of the evil, all of the… pieces of shit that get to go to wake up, and smell the air… while you got cheated out of everything. You should have been able to have your moment, your chance to savor your redemption… had your life”.

He remembers every single ounce of pain his friend endured, from rising out of perdition, to taping wounds together in a back warehouse, to peeling himself off the operating table after Boiling Point 2021… And this is how it ends. Arata Asakura gets to live with his brainwashed daughter while the world lives under gunpoint, Raivo got to spit on his friend while his family mourned, and Mike sits 6ft under ground even after he bled more than every single person in Frontline, on Kingdom, in OWA- This was fucked.

His mind was flooded with misery that soon becomes replaced with rage. Cyka’s hand grips the granite, and he shouts. He yells, standing up… it echoes across the graveyard. There was no one to hear, no one to vent his anger to, no one to confide with… the only man he trusted the most with was underneath the soil. “There was a time I had given up on myself, when I thought my place was to perish in the war, one final act of vengeance. Even at my age, with all I had done… you taught me differently”. He turns back to the grave; “-You showed me that surviving and for those I had lost, was a victory in itself. That being able to climb out of that foxhole was the true end goal, that there was an end goal even after those times we were under fire together…”.

“Such wisdom I had not found on any battlefield I had traversed. I don’t know how you did it… I am not as strong as you, my friend. There were many times I wanted to quiet. Give up, lie down. Then I always looked to you, your stoicism in the face of overwhelming uncertainty. Your granite mentality, and your gunboat way of approaching the world. You went from international vilification, to commanding the respect of every continent. You would never dare call yourself it;. You were troubled, and as flawed as anyone else, but in the end you tried your damn hardest to be a hero”.

He grabs the baseball cap from the top of the grave, brushing off rain and putting it back in. Misery has left his mind… now only filled with vengeful motivation; The Frontline was off attempting some hail mary, that left the Mafia to do what it has done best for over a year: Defend the Kingdom, under one last mission statement posthumously for it’s fallen leader: Kill The Golden Dawn. “I am not one myself, my friend. I… cannot save you. But mark my words; I will avenge you, Old Friend”.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Guerilla Warfare; a knock down, drag out form of combat where only the most vicious fight. In order to win the total and absolute destruction of the man in front of you must unfold, and it must be quick. War isn’t won by those who are right, it is won by those who are left, when the dust has settled, the last soldier standing. I know this form of fighting for decades upon decades, while the majority of this roster was barely born. I carried a rifle to war against men who preyed for nothing but our destruction, decimation, and death. Had the luxury of smelling the breath of men who wanted to kill me, and felt adrenaline surge through it all, photographically capturing each and every single detail. Every minute, every mission, every day.

Before Jack Daito decided to lace up a pair of boots, and become the most mediocre man on the planet, someone who will leave this earth knowing they were nothing but a statistic on someone else’s rap sheet. Before Raivo was old enough to roll up his first joint, and smoke his last few brain cells away. Before Arata Asakura’s parents made the decision to give birth to a child that would destroy dozens of families, take hundreds of lives, and set the world on fire. I am not "green" in this ring, because when that bell rings it won't be your ring, your battlefield, your war. It will be mine. The problem with Raivo's mentality towards me is that he fails to see that he walked onto our soil to fight on our terms, and spat on every corpse along the way.

There is no glory in any of this. But there is a Why. It is deeper than any greed driven reward Scott Oasis can talk about on twitter, attempting to motivate a complacent horde of murderers to step into that Kingdom Ring, knowing that they are going to die on that canvas. It is a reason all three of us carry into our souls when we march on to that battlefield, as the good men and women of the Gold Brand have done many times before. Standing shoulder to shoulder, while the men on the opposite side prepare knives to drive into each other’s backs.

It is for the people of London, South Africa, and even Japan who live every day with loved ones claimed by the violence of the Golden Dawn. It is for the mother who sits alone, holding her child, knowing her father will not return because he was taken out of spiteful revenge of a trio that did not have the stones to fight him man to man, face to face, because the last time they did each and every single one of them got their skulls crushed. It is for Michael Bishop, the octagon warfighter who saw the evil arising before anyone else did, who acted while even Jeff X did not realize, who put himself in the path of the wrath of gods so the world might have a chance. Kingdom’s oldest, truest defender, who even if he knew what was to happen on June 24th, he would still have marched head first into that ring knowing it was him, instead of Lita, Rebecca, any of his brothers, or any of his adopted, wayward students.

While the Frontline is off in a distant future, uncertain of their success, we shall do as the Mafia has always done; dig our heels in and hold the line. Under fire, under siege, with the world depending on our success. These are our finest hours, when they will look back and ask us what kept us going, it is the why. When my comrades and I were on the side of a mountain, pouring rain combined with chilling winds, froze us to our bones and put our mental strength in a stranglehold, we held on for the why. When the Hardcore War filled with air with smoke, fire, explosions, the flags of Kingdom’s finest pushed through for the why. The memory of a man defined by his perseverance under the most dire of circumstances, and his ability to capture victory in it’s eleventh hour through commitment and sheer fucking will. That is why we will fight, and we must win!!

You can try to deny it but Jack Daito’s memories are filled with the terror of wrath we have wrought, because whenever you have marched to war against us, Shogun lie dead in the dozens, and the blood of the golden dawn has flowed one boot high. We are soldiers, brothers, wrestlers, artists, killers. All of us have laced up different boots for different wars, and now we march on the same path, with the same objective: Kill The Golden Dawn!!

My old unit had a saying we held close to our hearts: Memento Mori, “Remember you must die”. Death is inevitable, and especially now, the shadow of the reaper haunts each and every single one of us. And afterwards, history will judge each and every single participant of this war. They will remember Michael Bishop, Heavyweight King, pioneer of this fight. Jason Long, Spartan King, his brother in arms. Noah Kreiger, Chicago’s finest, and his second city native…. Me? I’m a ghost. The last echo of a long forgotten era, the final soldier, the redeemer of my people.

They will also remember you… The Golden Dragon who has been several times slayed, the Bladesman who only stabs in the back, the unauthentic transitional spartan’s champion. You have chosen your side; that of greed, desperation, and evil!! You align yourself with child killers, murderers, and fascists!! Your have dug your fucking grave, now bite the dirt, pray to your false gods, and prepare to be fucking buried in it!!! Rin will go back to whatever wretched fuckin’ future she came from, and take knowledge that she failed in her quest to change history, and saw her father killed before her very eyes. When they uncover the ashes, they will determine the cause of death for you and your faction… Victory: Achieved, Genocide: halted, Vengeance: Paid in Full.

Mafia Invicta.

VaeVictisBD, Alyssa Grace, Darkane and DT The Ruler have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos July 22nd 2022, 3:38 pm by **Raivo**

People have asked me, “Raivo, how could you sink so low? How could you continue to terrorize a widow and child after someone in their life just passed?” Well, let me tell you, the answer is not as complicated as you think. You see, when it comes to being at the top of your game, once you get caught lacking, you lose the respect of your peers around you. And when you get caught lacking, the situation starts making people think more clearly. You see, Michael Bishop winning the OWA World Championship was this story of the century. An underdog working his way from mediocrity to the height of stardom in the fucking I don’t know 4-5 years he’s been here, even longer if you knew him before this. That storyline was something beautiful, something that everyone pulled through for him. He was already the golden child heading into this, and once he won it everyone was so excited and ecstatic for a new future. And let me be first to say that I’m glad he won. I am glad he took this title away from the grasp of the Golden Dawn. I’m glad he took it away from Azumi. But where this fairy tale ends is when he thought there wouldn’t be repercussions. I mean the man left his enemies to their own devices knowing full well what Arata had in his back pocket and decided that that was enough. And now look at him, dead in the ground, but hey at least before he croaked he got to feel what success was like for once. And I’m not gonna front it is sort of poetic that that’s how he goes out. Feeling on top of the world, as if nothing could hurt him going forward, this was HIS moment, and in that brief moment of vulnerability, that’s when his biggest enemy decided to show his hand. It’s like something out of a comic book sorta. And for it to all come crashing down well that’s just the icing on the cake. Look, I harbor no ill will toward Michael Bishop, because sooner or later once MYOJIN was done embarrassing himself against him for the title, it was going to be Raivo’s turn so I felt no need to do this. But what caused all this in the first place was you all. You see, you people proudly and loudly cheer for the whitest competition in this fucking place that anyone who goes against the white fragility and white code of this promotion are the fucking bad guys. Golden Dawn, for all the bad they did, had one thing they were saying that kept resonating with me. You see they’re about breaking the western hold on wrestling and showing off the strength of the East. While that’s fine, they themselves are not looking at the broader picture. So while I could get them against dismantling this western perspective on wrestling and OWA in general, they’re thinking too small for my tastes. Hell, my lifestyle is something that don’t sit right with them. But that’s neither here nor there because we’re talking about your problems. You see when it comes to looking at what it means to be a person of color who happens to be a competitor in the whitest promotion on earth, people see your identity as a threat. And like I understand that, I mean when it comes to Raivo who is there to compare? People flaunt about my negatives and my bad days because it helps them feel this power fantasy of being over the minority. To flourish over the minority is what this promotion up until now has been. This season the whities were put in a position of a minority and they didn’t like it. Golden Dawn were in a position of the majority and people hated them. They revolted against them, and while I can’t cosign on how they did it, I’m not too shaken up about Bishop’s death at all. In fact it was a necessity. Because look at what this past week was like. You had security detail for them because of how powerful they became and how much of a threat people viewed them. I mean Scott Oasis himself was just a few steps away from getting on his knees and sucking Arata’s dick right on television. That sort of minority excellence is something I envision for OWA, and if it takes being “obscene” or “disrespectful” to get that off the ground running then I guess we’ll just have to keep taking it up a notch.

People will look at this and say me as me shilling to the Golden Dawn, nah I just see this as two entities who have a similar goal just happening to cross each other’s path. So let me make something clear, the only man in this company who has my respect and utmost confidence in is my main man DT and we already know the amazing things he’s already doing as Outlaw Champion. This was due to our shared grievance and viewpoints of what that meant for our tenure here and our juxtaposed position in the company compared to the white people here. Now Golden Dawn and more specifically Arata, we have similar goals, but I’ll never respect the man. And he may say the same as me, he may not I don’t care. But as of now we got the same enemy and we got the same vision for OWA, he’s just thinking miniscule while I’m thinking big picture. He is all about himself while I want all minorities who step into this company to flourish. If anything you can take his radical ideals and just leave him as an outlier. But once all this is blown over and Golden Dawn gets it’s comeuppance I will be there at the end of it all ready to take that gold away and make it a beacon for minorities about the aspirations in this company. I don’t care what it takes to get there. And my first road block into making that happen is another warfare match.

Now I’ve done these once before with DT and a couple of other losers, and we came out victorious. People are going to say it was all due to DT but that’s cause they want to cause dissension between two powerful POCs when if you look at the tape it was a combined effort of our strategic minds working as one. In regard to our dynamic I know I am one that looks like I can be easily be picked off so while you’re trying to catch my ass, I’m throwing you in for a loop while DT takes out your partners in the background and once you look for help you realized you focused on the wrong man. Now with Daito and Arata, I don’t know what they got up their sleeves and honestly, as long as they keep to themselves, I’m fine with it because I’m going to be creeping up and making sure my mark is left in this match. I’m going to make it so we come up out of this with a win. Arata knows what it’s like to win and he doesn’t want to fall to a group of whities on of which is just a dude they found on the street who just happened to know Bishop. Daito on the other hand knows what it’s like to be fodder so I have no real plan for him other than let the others maim him and be busy with him. He’s like Ryan Gosling in Remember the Titans, a liability. But the other team on the other hand they’re a group of interesting folk mostly because they’re only bound by their supposed bond to Bishop. Jason Long, Noah Krieger, and CYKA, three men who together make up an “intimidating” band of brothers, but only by name only. People think they’re able to show us up in this match due to a common cause, but that’s where they are wrong. They’re common cause is flimsy as shit and if they start fighting amongst each other then I wouldn’t be surprised. If anything I believe the only person on that team who is actually for Bishop and what he meant is the one dude I haven’t even met yet and that’s CYKA. Noah and Jason, nah they’re going to be at each other’s neck because their supposed bond is only that of a promise is only that of something that can be easily broken. I mean you expect me to believe that Noah is going to put his ego aside to help Jason the person who he’s challenging for his title? No that’s not how it’s going to go down. Hell, look at the match we’re in Guerilla Warfare. This shit is based on the unexpected, the collateral present, the no hold barred premise of guerilla warfare. People don’t understand what that means, and Guerilla Warfare has become the fascination by these whites.

Guerilla warfare means you have to put your pride and ego on the back burner for your common goal. Now my ego is always in check, I know what I’m capable of and I know what my team is capable of and can pick up that slack. But CYKA is green, he’s never been in the ring, and transitioning from war in Ukraine may put him at an advantage but he’s carrying two fucking dogs that can’t stop nipping at each other. Jason is one man I’ve had the displeasure of talking with and he’s always on about how he’ll bring prestige to a title because he believe a fighting champion is what this company needs but all he does is sully it. And Krieger is his opponent who is going to do anything to get an upper hand against Jason. I mean I would, in a match like this where anything could happen. If my opponent got hurt in the moment where no one was looking then I would take that opportunity. And yet people think they’re going to best us, which is laughable at best. Because here I am not denying I don’t like Golden Dawn and I’m not going to act like I have since the beginning. And I for sure know Golden Dawn don’t like me either. But what we do like is winning, and we don’t like it when a band of whites try to dictate our narrative.

This guerilla warfare match is just that you whites trying to dictate what it means to be a competitor here in OWA. You all try to make it like we’re the bad guys. Where we just want to be at the same table for once. Golden Dawn has had their way, but me nah I’m just getting started. I’m getting to that table for once and you can’t stop me no matter who you throw my way. If you think that these people, these names are going to mean anything to me after this then you’re fucking smoking something else. It is time for Raivo’s goal to met for once, a goal of actual equality where we get the same fucking treatment or even better treatment than we’ve been getting for the past 4 years. And to take out a bunch of whites is something that could do nothing but fill me with joy. For the Minorities isn’t just a saying, it isn’t just a movement anymore, it’s a fucking prophecy. A prophecy that is going to come to realization in just a few more day and all you people can do is fucking watch now. I feel like I’ve made my intentions known now. Are you going to do anything to stop it? I don’t think so, I think I’m going to walk out that match unscathed and untouched. I’ll be as great as I’ve I been before. And Ms. Rebecca Bishop, the offer is still there.

Alyssa Grace and DT The Ruler have spoken. It’s such good shit!

War and thunder #1 July 22nd 2022, 2:49 pm by **Mark Michaels**

( The scene opens on a bottle of Crown Royal Regal Apple sitting on a table besides 3 rocks style glasses, each filled half way with ice cubes. A hand reaches out, and fills the glasses nearly to the brim with the flavored whiskey. The camera pulls back to find The Romani King Mark Michaels seated on either side by his cousins Gyp and Sy. The trio each take a glass and raise them up high.)

Mark: Onwards and upwards, here’s to being the next OWA Imortal Heavyweight Champion.

( The three Michaels each take a long gulp of the strong yet sweet brown liquor. A moment passes in silence before Gyp asks.)

Gyp: Yo Cousin, you sure this was the move? Like you sure you should be taking on Jacob Senn right now at this very moment?

Sy: Bro what you talking about? Mark has been tearing it up this past year. Hell he damn near overcame a four on one disadvantage while having his eyes sprayed with mace. You think he can’t handle one dude who got shook by Matt Miles fake brother? I say right now is the perfect time for our cousin to kick ass and take his rightful place on top of the Olympus pantheon.

Mark: Gyp, I know you and Big George are trying to look out for me, and I love You for it. I wouldn’t have you guys with me if I thought you didn’t have my best interest at heart. But this is something I gotta do right now because the last few months have brought some dark clouds hanging over Olympus. It’s been hard to see the sunlight when things keep seeming to go from bad to worst. The rich keep getting richer and the poor keep poorer, and The sons of bitches who are running this brand seem hell bent on turning Olympus into the Caste system 2.0 Cousin. I know you’re worried about how the higher ups are gonna try and fuck us over because we dare to stand our ground and won’t settle for living in chains. But Being hated on by the powers that be is nothing new to us, hell it’s practically a right of passage to rise up and get your due when the man tries to hold you down. I know you’re worried, Gyp I get that you don’t want what happened to me at Final Destination to happen again. But when Jacob Senn, that sell out son of a bitch wants, everyone who hears his voice to jump on board the stranger danger, bad touch train with him and Ayrx?! I for one am shaking my head no bro when it comes to that offer. I can’t sit back and just allow Alex Carter’s handpicked prick to just leave everyone on Olympus fighting for the scraps that fall from Jacob’s table. I can’t just roll over for these prekaza gaja who demand that everyone to fall in line, that everyonejust lay down and die for these mother fuckers without a fight. That’s bullshit, and I’ll be damned if I don’t nip this in the bud right here and now. Trust me, I’ve dealt with guys who have GAWD complexes before, and it’s best to stomp that shit out long before they get high off their own power. This is about more than just a title, this is about everything I’ve been fighting for on Olympus. This is about not having to bow down and kiss a ring, or kiss some ass to get a shot. This is about keeping Friday nights the brand where your talent is what matters, not whose dick you’re sucking. So that’s why I gotta take a stand here and now bro. I promised myself when I signed my OWA contract that I would never allow myself to be treated like a second class citizen, which is what Senn and his ilk are trying to make everyone in the locker room who doesn’t fall to a knee and grovel whenever Jacob comes around. Do you get me man?

Gyp: Yeah I get you bro, and you know I never doubt you. It’s just that you and I both know these boys must have something up their sleeve like that little cunt did at Final Destination. They’re each and everyone of them too big a chicken shit to take you on in a straight fight.

Mark: Damn straight they’re all a bunch of chicken shits. But you know how we grew up man. You can’t trick a trickster. They got an ace up their sleeves, I got a Royal flush in my back pocket. They think they can outsmart the Romani King? Boy I can’t wait to see the look on their face after this is all Over. Now as far as where I’m standing going into War and Thunder, I gotta admit that I’m having a strong sense of Deja Vu running up my spine. I’m about to compete in a Thunder cage for the World Championship in the middle of summer, against some doofus who has his head shoved so far up his own ass he thinks his dark, spooky, religious gimmick is really cool. A man who’s got these powers that gives him these mystic abilities. Too bad he still looks like a dude who cucks so hard that he stole his wife’s haircut. Seriously that mangled mop top makes me wonder the kind of short bus, special Ed, barber Jacob has been visiting, and how blind he is that he thinks that do will get him any action.

Sy: Maybe a lack of getting laid is why he went nuts and became a doomsday prophet?

Mark: I think you got something there cousin. Maybe blowing off some steam might help Jacob Senn cut out all this The mumbling about about the greater good, while acting like the biggest punk ass mark for himself bullshit. Maybe Our Immortal heavyweight puppet, just needs that thumb in the bum his wife won’t give him, and he’ll call it quits with this dark reverend bull crap. And listen before I even talk about the match we’re gonna have, I gotta ask What’s it about pretending to worship the devil that’s sounds so appealing to milk toast, vanilla jackasses? Seriously did you just pass by a hot topic one day and say to yourself ‘I finally figured out how I’ll get people to give a rat’s ass about me again!’
To be fair it might have worked if Nathan Fiora hadn’t done it way better 2 years ago. C’mon man can you not think a little outside the box, or at the minimum, not come off as a total douche when you do so? I mean you bit Fiora’s style so hard I’m surprised we ain’t having an I Simp match. Since it seems Jack Off Senn is nothing more than a lame duck Awakening rip off, I’m gonna refer to his ass as Woke Senn from now on. Woke Senn got a new attitude. He did what he had to do To win the Imortal Heavyweight championship. Whats worst here? The fact that back at Civil War you had to get on your knees, and “absorb” Eon Blue’s whole schtick? Or that it was the only way for you to finally find any trace of your balls and not ride the coattails of 3 of the best wrestlers in all of OWA?! Woke Senn likes to talk about what Woke Senn can do as the prime patsey of the jackass running this place. He talks False prophets this, Armageddon that, and brags about the bodies that will be left in his wake now that he’s some kind of voodoo jedi. we all saw what happened with Darkane, But I’m not afraid of Jacob and all his mystic bullshit. I’m not afraid because For everything he’s done in his career, he’s doesn’t have a snowflake’s chance in hell to beat me all on his own. That’s because he’s never met a man who has as much heart as I do. He beat Noah Reigner who’s a great talent, but Noah never had the kind of heart I do, that’s why he’s taking this little break from OWA. He beat Darkane, a crazy and twisted mother fucker who lives for pain, but again Darkane didn’t have the kind of heart I do. The kind of heart that doesn’t just push past pain, and agony, but doubt, and fear, and the voices of everyone telling you you don’t belong or you don’t measure up. I’m not afraid of Jacob because last year in the Thunderdome, I was burnt, electrocuted, Wrapped in barb wire, crashed through bullet proof class, got blown up literally, yet I still got back up, dusted myself off, and told the 5 sons of bitches in that dome to come at me, and I did it all without needing to be anything more than Mark Mother Fucking Michaels.

Mark Michaels, the guy who was never handed a damn thing in his life, the guy who’s been fighting to survive since the day he was born. The man who set off to chase a dream, through grind, grit, and hustle worked his way up from the very bottom, moving mountains and parting seas just to be right here, a stone’s throw from finally making that dream a reality when I become the new Immortal Heavyweight Champion. That’s the man Woke Senn is about to stand toe to toe across from, but I’m not coming alone. Whenever you take on the Romani King, you know he’s bringing the Cosmic Caravan right behind him. Believe you me Jacob, you will feel every single one of the 20,000 people shaking the building when they start cheering HAIL TO THE KING BABY!!!l. You say the people turn you into a pariah, when really you just turned yourself into an even bigger jackass than you were before. You think you’re untouchable in that ring? Let’s see if you feel the same way when best your ass from one side of that cage to other, as I send you down a ride on the Prekaza Plunge.

Go ahead Jacob, keep waxing off on this idea for that you’re a living legend, a man whose legacy can never be touched or tarnish. You and I both know that’s only so long as you keep bending over for the boss man to stick ya, that’s your real legacy. Hell that’s been your legacy from the day I met you. And the fact that you are so at peace with yourself knowing that you only ever got as far as you did because you run at every chance you get to become a good little lap dog for the general managers, well it speaks volumes about the kind of Karen ass cunt you really are beneath the bravado and shitty haircut. Senn, you legacy manufacturing little bitch, when I you get locked inside the thunder cage, there’s is nowhere for you to run from Royal ass whipping that’s gonna be handed to you by the Romani King. All the stroke, and influence in the world ain’t gonna keep you from getting a hole stomped in your lily white ass! I’m coming to shake up the world! To enter the Thunder Cage and shock the system Senn, because there is electricity in the air, and I promise you are gonna feel every ounce of it at War and Thunder when my right hand smashes you right in your ugly face like a freight train through a glass house. Ain’t no running home and crying to your daddy, ain’t no kicking back while your Lackeys do your damn dirty work. I’m here to tell everyone that The Romani King is coming in like the god of Thunder himself, and every time I land a blow, it’s gonna feel like Jacob Senn got hit over the head with Mjolnir itself.

At War and Thunder, That back stabbing, egotistical, sell out, Aryx asshole eating ass son of a bitch is getting what’s coming to him ain’t no doubt about it! Do you feel me?

Gyp; I feel you bro.

Mark: Then like I said, onward and upward to the new champion.

( The knock back another gulp of the whiskey as the scene fades out.)

Alyssa Grace and DT The Ruler have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos July 21st 2022, 11:58 pm by **Stark**

OWA Promos - Page 3 6d04eb252bc490eb3c6458b28843c5ec

NAMI

They say silence is a fool's greatest weapon, that it's better to shut your mouth and let people think what they want of you instead of opening your mouth and proving them right. I'm not saying this solely to insult you, Rebecca, but that was once my reality too. As an idol I had no recourse of my own, I was not an individual I was merely a puppet for someone else to doll up and have play to their heart's content, at that point I was no different than a dancing monkey. When I came to the world of wrestling I found liberation from that but I had quickly found myself back in the same spot I used to be - a failure, or at least that's how it seemed. That losing streak was a time in which I could have easily some stupid shit that would've been hanging over my head to this day but as I said, I stayed quiet, kept my head down, kept grinding, and before I even knew it, I arrived where I am now, on my fourth defense as Goddesses Champion, and standing near the very top of Odyssey. I get to hold my head high with dignity and pride, and I god damn deserve that.

Brookes I want you to understand that there may have been a time where this would have been considered an even match, an actual contest that you had a shot at winning. What I'm seeing from you now is nothing more than the opposite. You're telling me that being gone for almost seven months from wrestling, showing up to attack a retiring Cloud Matsuda, and then daring to accept my open challenge - which, by the way, was meant for ACTIVE members of this roster - you're telling me that despite all that, you think you have the luxury to act as nonchalant as you are now. As I said last time, the biggest difference between you and I right now which makes the chances of you winning such a hilarious impossibility is that in the past six months, I've come into my own as one of the top wrestlers on Odyssey and you know what? I'll say it - At this point I'm one of the top women in OWA altogether - and in the span of time that I've achieved feats that not a single person could have predicted for me until I forced my destiny to change, what have you done Rebecca?

Where have you been? I've not seen you wrestle anywhere, at least not anywhere worth a damn that I would've heard of. Have you just been at home? I mean, you look pretty damn cozy sitting by the pool, relaxing and having a good time. Showing off your tits in that ugly pink bikini because after all that time being gone, we know you're not going to be the same wrestler you once were, so I guess like that mediocre piece of trash that's going to get her faced kicked in by Rebecca Filth, Angelina Magnum, you're going to have rely on your sex appeal to get by on Odyssey. You know, that might not be a bad thing these days. I guess all the hard work I've put into this title reign to have a marquee opponent like Rebecca Brookes, at least on paper, that doesn't mean anything compared to a Bra and Panties Match. Don't get me wrong, I'm not mad about that... Just frustrated, and if there's one thing I've gotten good at during my time on Odyssey, it's channeling that frustration into the strength I need to beat you and retain my Goddesses Championship.

What you've got wrong though, Rebecca, is this notion you seem to have that we're similar. We're not. We just simply are not. I don't know what the hell you've been smoking at home, maybe sniffing on some cocaine stronger than I've ever tried - but don't come at me with these delusions. You're not on my level - or rather, however far you think you had gotten up the totem pole when it seemed like you were certain to win the Women's World Championship - I've gone further. However far the gap that you think exists between you and me, I want you to double it, then triple it, then look down at your feet and realize that you just aren't built like me - you don't have what it takes to run for miles and miles as your feet bleed and body fails - THAT'S what my losing streak felt like, it was an existence that damn near anyone else would've pulled the plug on. You don't understand how hard I've worked, you wouldn't be able to. When the going got tough, you got going.

It was the same day that I became Goddesses Championship that you were complicit in one of the biggest failures in wrestling history, one that shook the entire landscape of Odyssey and changed it for the worse. Instead of accepting your responsibility for failing against Team Llorona and fighting the same fight that - as much as I hate to admit, even women like Revy were fighting - instead of that, you were happy to get fired, you took that severance check, and then clearly you've been doing nothing but sunbathing at home and eating hot chips, I mean just look at you in this video you posted Rebecca, I can see that muffin top growing - you might want to do something about that because being in the peak shape of your career is just the bare minimum requirement of being able to even step in the ring with me at this point.

I didn't quite think of you as the hypocritical type Rebecca. You come back and while you're sitting half naked by your poolside talking about the corruption you're here to fight and the hatred you're here to inflict as vengeance... You can't seriously expect anyone to take that seriously, can you? This is a joke. No one did you dirty, Rebecca, you did yourself dirty. You dropped the ball and you just aren't going to be able to pick it back up now. In fact you're lucky that I put out this open challenge at all, because otherwise you would've had to grind your way back to the point of being a serious contender to the Goddesses Championship and I don't know what you think, but this is not an era of Odyssey in which people get free rides. There is so much competition at the bottom of the card where you truly belong, let alone the top, where I sit and wait for the best of the best to come and challenge me for my title. It's a pity that Rin Asakura has schemed her way into the title match at Game Over because I could name at least five more deserving candidates than her who I'd much rather face, but it is what it is - she'll be the perfect final opponent before I secure my spot as the longest reigning and greatest Goddesses Champion of all time.

YOU don't get to use Llorona's corruption as an excuse. You left right after she got appointed to the GM role! You had all of Aria's reign as General Manager to succeed and win the big one but you just never could. And then when you realized that with Llorona in power, it would be years before you'd ever hit that same stride again, you just left. While I was here fighting each and every week to keep my head above water in these shark infested waters and keep this Goddesses Championship to my name, you went home - like I said - to play pretty and post those Instagram thirst pics. Keep them coming Becky, every shitty picture you post just makes me look even better in comparison.

"Bring your very best" isn't something you get to tell me like you're above me. Who the hell do you think you are? The reason I'm about to become the greatest Goddesses Championship of all time is because for me, my best isn't good enough. Every time I fight I come in with more than my best. 1000% is underselling it. And I'll tell you right now, YOUR best won't even be close enough to what it takes to beat me. Consider this your homecoming Rebecca. You'll realize where you stand now, and where I do. My road to the top is just getting started.

I told you, I've long since surpassed your Goddesses Championship and the only difference between me and Alyssa at this point is just the formality that is a matter of days. You can call this arrogance but I'd disagree - this is CONFIDENCE. I've EARNED it. And no one is going to take this away from me... It's just so funny to me that you can say that YOU of all people are going to be the one to end this fairytale reign of mine.

No, it's just getting started.

Alyssa Grace, Lazarus Arjen and Krysis have spoken. It’s such good shit!

submit // odyssey oo2 July 21st 2022, 11:40 pm by **Rebecca Filth**

“Did the zombies eat some of your brains? Or has your head always been this empty, Angelina?

I’ve spent a lot of time in this company dealing with delusional bitches who want to rewrite the past. But you just may be the worst liar yet. Worse than April telling me she deserved to be champion. Worse than Alyssa telling me that nothing was stopping her from being exactly like me.

Women whose titles and dignity I stole inside that ring. Women forced to choke on their lies.

Do you even hear yourself? You truly expect us all to believe that you are the star of this show? That you marched down to that ring and FAKED your legs shaking under my touch? That YOU brought in the views and have transformed Odyssey?

Was their LSD in that smoke Banshee spread around us? Because that’s the only thing that could explain your asinine belief that anyone in this fucking company cares about you. Baby, this is the Rebecca Filth show. I have the title and the main event headlines to back it up. I have the adoring fans and MILLIONS of OnlyFans subscribers that pay to see every fucking inch of my body. I am the person who transformed this company. I am the reason that anyone tunes in to the pink brand. I am the reason that bitches like you even get a second glance on this show.

Before I showed up? It was prim and fucking proper around here. Everyone was a straight-laced wrestler who was fighting tooth and nail for pride and bragging rights. Every cunt in the back wanted to prove that they were the best technician, submission, strong style whatever. We saw the same bitches at the top of the card every week. And then I marched in the doors and I turned this fucking company on its head. I beat every bitch put in front of me. I cut down your technicians and your stars. Women touted as the future of this company cowered before me. And suddenly a new life was breathed into Odyssey. Debauchery began to spread. It was slow at first. But then we started seeing girls like Felix Hartley and you get signed. There was a shift.

So you're welcome. For making Odyssey a brand that would give you a second look. I changed the fucking game. I am the blueprint of what Odyssey should look like. I am the only reason you fucking exist Angelina. You can stand before the world and lie. But no one is buying it.

We’ve all seen your acting career. And it’s pretty clear why mommy and daddy had to pay for your relevance. Because baby, you ain’t that good. But what happened in that ring on Odyssey? That was real. I felt your body quiver under mine. I saw the look in your eyes. Sweetheart, I know what faking it looks like. I’m in the porn industry. And you? You are just too ashamed to admit that my hands on your body felt like the most luxurious cashmere. That my breath on your thighs sent a chill down your spine.

I get it. It’s embarrassing to know that I had such control over you. That you were so close to succumbing to the lust and the filth. You were ready to submit to your domme in that ring. And like you said, you can’t afford to show weakness. You have a career outside of this. A reputation. But Banshee won’t be there to save you this week. It will just be me and you alone in that ring. My hands caressing you. My teeth ripping the clothes from your body. Will you remember what’s on the line? Or will you finally submit to your domme? Will you finally kneel at my feet and beg me to give you the greatest pleasure of your life? Because if you do, I promise I’ll do it. I promise I’ll stop the pain. I’ll rip your clothes off and I’ll bring you to the edge of glory.

But only if you beg for it.

And if not, your domme will have no choice but to force you to submit. Because like I said, this is my fucking show Angie. I ascended the ranks of Odyssey and proved my dominance. And you will submit like everyone before you. Whether it's by choice or by force. Just because I decided to give the world a show, doesn’t mean I think for a second that you will be able to beat my undefeated streak.

You can cut me down and say that my success is simply due to how pathetic my competition has been. But people in glass houses just shouldn’t throw stones. I’ve heard that line before. Every bitch who has lost to me has been forced to eat it inside that ring. I’ve shoved those words so far down their fucking throats that they gagged.

I fought scrubs? You couldn’t even beat the scrubbiest of fucking scrubs on this roster. You lost to Remi Skyfire and Violet Cunningham. Embarrassing! You literally couldn’t wrestle your way out of the bottom tier of this fucking company. Baby, you are the scrub. You're beneath Remi and Violet. You’re beneath every bitch on this roster. You couldn’t even contend for the Openweight Championship. You really wanna joke about how I was beaten by a hasbeen in Natalie Cage a year ago when your single match was a loss to a neverwas last month? You got lucky and got catapulted to a place on the card that you don’t belong in. But your win at BOB Games? It was a fluke. Why don’t you check in on the last woman from Odyssey gifted a BOB Games title shot. You remember Daisy? She was about as successful as you’re going to be.

You got shoved in a league where you don’t belong and I decided that I could have fun with you. I decided to make you relevant and play a game of cat and mouse. Because even if I was about to face the easiest first defence of my life, I still wanted to give the people a show. But a girl with NO actual wins under her belt isn’t making me shake in my boots. Not like I made you shake on Odyssey. No. You’re out of your depth.

You’re throwing around the same cliche bullshit about how I have everything to lose. Like every girl before you hasn’t said the same goddamn shit! So what, Angie? You think I don’t know my title is on the line? You think that hasn’t occurred to me? Truth be told, if you’ve been paying attention. My whole thing is having nothing to lose. Not in this business. Not in life. No matter WHAT happens this week, I will forever be the woman who unified those belts, who main evented Final Destination. And who was never pinned. So why don’t you save the tired lines. Because it hasn’t worked for anyone before you. And if this is your way of getting in my head, I’m disappointed. Uninspired.

You talk a big game for a girl with no experience. With no wins under her belt. You think you have nothing to lose? Sweetheart, I gave you the easiest match of your career. How embarrassing will it be when you’re the only human in the world who couldn't take off Rebecca Filth’s clothing? When you have to come to terms with the fact that your moment in the spotlight is fucking gone. In a flash. That you couldn’t even succeed when the odds were stacked in your favour.

Once I dispose of you and expose you this week, you’ll fall back to the bottom of the barrel where you belong. Once Rebecca Filth stops touching your body, your relevance will fade away and people will forget all about you. It will be like you never happened.

It’s funny that you act so much better than me. You pretend you want to be nothing like me. You pretend that you didn’t tremble under my touch. You pretend that I am inconsequential and that you have me all figured out. You’ll easily be able to upstage me, dethrone me and take your place at the top, right? Because you deserve it more than me. Except you’re the one standing in my shadow. You’re the one looking up at the star that made waves before you. You’re the one admiring the Undisputed Whore. Trying to fill my very big shoes. Aren’t you? The cream always rises to the top? I feel like I heard that somewhere recently. Oh right, I fucking said it verbatim the week of Final Destination. Honestly, it’s flattering. That you’re so obsessed with me. That you want to be me. I get it. I’d look up to me too.

I’d want to be me if I wasn’t.

But the problem with you and every other bitch in the back is that you will never understand me. You look at me with awe in your eyes. You are amazed at what I have accomplished. But understanding me? That is another beast. It’s about more than sex appeal and being hot. It’s about more than beating the living shit out of dumb bitches for a living. You can’t be Rebecca Filth. You can’t replicate what I’ve done. No one ever will. I am the one with the it factor here, Angelina. It’s why I’m the one standing at the top of the card. It’s why I’m the bitch that everyone wants to be and you’re the bitch everyone rolls their eyes at.

You think that my rage is fueled by a win Natalie Cage had over a year ago? You think my rage is fuelled by shame? Bitch you are clueless. That match with Cage doesn’t even register on my radar. What I accomplished since then overshadows it by miles. I’m not angry at Cage. I’m angry at fucking life. My rage and my disregard for other humans comes from years of living on the street and selling my soul for my next meal. My rage comes from watching women like you get put on a pedestal and jumped to the front of the line simply because you bat your eyes. My rage stems deep within my soul. It burns through every inch of my body. And it can’t be tied a single moment in this fucking company. So good try. Might wanna get a refund in your online therapist license.

You have shown me that you don’t get it. You don't get me. And you won’t truly understand it. Not until you step between those ropes with me. Not until you’re forced to stare into my devious eyes in that ring. Not until I get you on that mat and I make you feel both agony and bliss at the same time. Not until you realize that nothing you can do will put me down. Not until you realize that I’m untouchable. I truly am the defining force on this fucking roster. It’s not about being the best. It’s not about proving I belong. It’s about destroying bitches like you. It’s about causing pain and fuckery. That’s what gets me off. That’s what gets me hot and bothered. Not tanning beds and plastic surgery. It's the look of desperation in girls' eyes. It’s knowing that me standing at the top fucking kills you all. That’s what keeps me going.

And that’s what will push me this week.

This is my belt. This my match. And this is my fucking show.

This is only the beginning of my reign. The smut has just begun. I will strip you down. I will lay you out. And I will force you to submit to the domme of Odyssey.

Don’t fight it Angelina. It’ll only make the pain last longer. Don’t make me ruin that pretty face of yours.

Be a good submissive."

Jeff X, Alyssa Grace, Lazarus Arjen and Felix Hartley have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos July 21st 2022, 11:39 pm by **Zumi**

BIANCA PROMO #1 - Genorosity and Road To Gold

Versus Alyssa Grace and Liz Karlson - OWA Odyssey

They say obstacles make one stronger, whether those obstacles are personal demons, physical and mental health, or roadblocks in one’s career.

They’re just challenges on one’s path to greatness, if you push, you elevate yourself above them, and nothing can seem impossible. That is the secret to my work ethic, and why I can claim to be The Top Tier of this industry. Nobody works harder, nobody wants it more, and simply put no one is willing truthful about their selfish desires quite like me.

----------

(The video opens with a quick montage of the sights and sounds of Jakarta, Indonesia. Truly living up to the title of mother nature’s blessing to the world. It’s beauty is unmatched by most except one person, The Top Tier as she sits on the balcony of her room at Jayakarta Resort Anyer. Gazing at the beautiful scenery surrounding the world-class resort where she was staying. Donning a beautiful light blue silk dress and a pair She soon reaches for her bottle of wine, Château Mission Haut Brion Pessac Léognan Blanc 2011. A bottle that costs roughly two thousand dollars in America.)

What did I say? I told you I was out to make a statement and what did I do? I did precisely that in the best way possible. So I thought I’d spoil myself on this next destination of the world tour. A bit of expensive white wine as I gaze at the sight of Jakarta and talk about the next contest on my rebuild world tour.

You put two in front of me and I knocked them both down, it’s quite an easy feat for someone like me. That’s the strength of a Top Tier, the might of what someone like can me can do. I vowed to make an impact in my first match back and I did just that but somehow this has to cruel joke by Llorona, to put me into this Tag Team Championship Qualifier knowing that the partner I’ve been given is someone I don’t give a shit about. You must really care about Ellie Quinn and must want her to succeed on Odyssey, Llorona. That’s why you put her with me in this tag team.

I mean why should you? Minor Leagues over here thought she was hot shit and then she lost. So I now have to do the one thing she couldn’t do for herself and make her seem relevant, bring her up to my level, and give her the honor of being MY tag partner! People didn’t talk about her debut match because she won but rather it saw my return to OWA. Yet, here I am having to do her favor? Ellie Quinn can be happy that she gets to latch onto the back of the Top Tier and I’m an extremely generous person, she’ll have the chance to live with some relevance when she can carry my bags while I take her tag gold success.

The Top Tier’s generosity doesn’t just reach to her dispensable nobodies who thought they could hang with me but also reaches out to the women she considers her friends. So the cruel jokes against me continue, Llorona puts me against the two people who I have become quite close with. The unfortunate sad fate in all of this is that I’m okay with it. There’s no emotional conflict deep in my soul about how I have to hurt those who I care about the most. I don’t have those kinds of moments because for me, there’s no point in it.

Why? Why do I need to believe that all of this is wrong when it’s simply a business. We’re all competitors, we’re all hungry for success and that’s what matters the most. The drive to succeed will always outweigh the sight of seeing someone else thrive in your place. Friendships might break, but those can be rebuilt. In a cutthroat business like this, opportunities are rare, especially something as important as this! The opportunity to crown the first ever OWA Women’s Tag Team Champions. Who wouldn’t want to be that, hell I would love to be that even if I carry that deadweight Ellie Quinn.

No one else in the record books will be allowed to say that. An accolade suited for The Top Tier of this business.

(BIANCA takes a sip of her wine, the liquid glistening thanks to the sun and the glass. She soon resumes speaking.)

And like I said, the cruel fate of who I have to face is an unfortunate twist in my road to gold is something I can overcome.

If I was given the choice to team with Ellie, I would have rather found someone in development instead. Liz, the only reason I stand here willing to team with this Minor League wrestler is that I’m willing to put all that aside and be a good member of society to elevate this pop-punk reject up to the credibility of being MY tag partner. Because if there’s anyone who can do it, it’s me. If I wasn’t forced into this, I would gladly support you two to win this whole deal. There is no other true tag team on this show like you two. A lot of these girls are just hanging around, pairing up, and knowing how things go, they might just be done with one another once they fail their little hunt for gold.

But here is where the TPOIV fan in me takes a backseat and I’m gonna get serious.

(BIANCA soon drops her glass of wine onto the table, a small chance to take it a bit more seriously as she leans back on her chair.)

TPOIV is eternal, it will last a lifetime but you two are forgetting The Top Tier might be an ally elsewhere but that’s all fair until the desire for Gold kicks in, and then all bets are off. Then you have to deal with me as a competitor and Alyssa has faced me before but these last few months, I’ve put an incredible focus on being better than everyone around me and better personally.

It’s no secret that Alyssa, Liz, and I are friends BUT I’m always gonna be the first to pull the trigger to dismantle a friendship for personal gain. It’s just how I roll these days, If I didn’t have this desire to be a champion in me, my heart would go out to both of you in hopes of seeing TPOIV succeed. These are the girls who I travel with but right now they face The Top Tier and honestly, on my own I’m a challenge for these two. I might come off as insulting my own friends but this is the truth I believe. It’s an undeniable belief that I’m better than everyone I step in front of and no one in this industry is better than me.

The world can say I’m wrong but here I stand willing to defend my claim. To say I’m not willing to step up and come at both of you is wild, Liz. Before everything in this business, before our friendship, our alliances, I am BIANCA. The Top Tier of this industry, that needs to be reminded, it isn’t about me stepping up to face you but rather the other way around. When it comes to stepping up, hun’. I’m gonna do that and then someone. Both of you are leagues above Ellie Quinn and Becca Black but it feels like I’m wrestling another handicap match.

Who wouldn’t feel like that when your partner is practically deadweight and the management has decided that this is what I’m set to face. You two would feel like the other was Ellie Quinn. I’m just willing to say with no problem at all but even then, even Minor League as my partner. I’m still able to handle both of you on my own even without Ellie. Would I win? Who knows but I know for a fact that I’m good enough to handle both of you.

That’s my statement to both you and Liz, Alyssa. I know better than anyone how to keep friendship and business apart when things are guaranteed to get heated. And I love both of you from the bottom of my heart but what I love more than friendship is some gold, last time I checked. It’s been FAR too long since The Top Tier has been able to hold a champion. When I say I support you two by making history as the first-ever OWA Women’s Tag Team Champions, I also support the idea of me taking that away from both of you and stealing that moment all for myself. Despite knowing what that might do to our friendships. I’m fine with taking that option, we’ve been on this road before Alyssa. Last year, in fact, I made my debut on Odyssey, stepping up to you. That’s when you realized that when there’s something important on the line, I don’t care who I am facing, what matters is my success.

You said it best, Alyssa. Right now, I’m triple the competitor I was just last year when I dented your Ascension To The Heaven's briefcase with your skull. Now imagine what can I do now, a year of improvement both mentally and physically. Time has changed both of us in multiple ways but it hasn’t the fact that I still remember my loss to you really well, and I’m in the mood to get back for that. A little tournament “upset” if you can call it that when one of the opponents you might just lose to is The Top Tier. Last year, you saw me as an arrogant developmental call-up and BARELY made out alive. Now you’re learning to put some respect on my name and you’ll see what will happen.

For fuck sake, nobody is doubting Alyssa Gace anymore. This isn’t 2021, I don’t know about Eliie Quinn since her opinion doesn’t matter but last time I checked, everyone knows how good you are. I know how good you are but I'll make sure you never forget how great The Top Tier truly is.

Most days, I’m willing to be the selfish bitch of this locker room and put myself above everyone else. Some people will deny that they are selfish but just for this one moment, I have to be a little generous. I have to play nice with someone I genuinely learned to not like since I got back to Odyssey.

Ellie, I’m not gonna play nice with you but I’m gonna be doing you a solid favor, for the first time in your life. You’re gonna feel relevant, you’ll learn how it feels to be a star in the big leagues when I carry you on my shoulder all the way to the OWA Women’s Tag Team Championship.

For the first time, you’ll have an accolade that isn’t from some random promotion but rather you’ll have the chance to make history.

I just hope you remember to feel grateful about that and learn to pay some respect to the woman who made you worth a damn!

Because I swear to God, your threats don’t scare me. If I decide to fuck around and fuck everything for you. It won’t be my fault, it will be yours for not being good enough to carry my bags and be my “tag partner”.

(The Top Tier soon picks up her glass from the table, gladly drinking her glass of white wine as the camera slowly fades to black ending the video.)

Alyssa Grace has spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos July 21st 2022, 11:12 pm by **MrOtaku2399**

This time we find our estranged hero in the depths of a dumpster. She still hasn't earned much since losing last week, but is hoping to get up on her feet soon enough. She pops out, holding an unopened box of ritz. they gotta be a few years old by now, but she opens them up and goes to town on them.

"(Sorry this is the first thing i had to eat since sneaking on the plane to get to the show. It's tough being a wrestler, why didn't anyone ever tell me that before hand? Anyways, last week didn't go to plan, but this week i'm looking forward to teaming with Kurosawa-san. She's a tough competitor and i'm sure i'll learn lots teaming up with her in this matchup.)"

"(Our opponents are going to be pretty tough as well. With us taking on Kuzunoha-Chan and Skyfire-San. Both of them have lots of fighting spirit, but so do i! One may be a weird emo with trust issues and the other may be some wanna be punk rocker, but that's ok. I won't judge them for being against the norm, in fact i applaud it. But with Ruri being her emo self, i'd say me and Kurosawa-San have the advantage. We'll be the better and more gelled team.)"

"(While those two are going to fight and bicker amongst themselves. I'll give it my all and i hope to improve even more than last time! Thank you all so much and please support us!)"

❝ NO RECORD TO BE CREATED. ❞
vs NAMI (Goddesses Championship Match)⠀//⠀ODYSSEY – S5, EP 2⠀//⠀#001

As the camera feed connects and fades in from the darkness, we’re given a clear view of Anaheim—the sun shining brightly down onto the spacious back garden of the home of Rebecca Brookes as she walked around dressed in a very revealing pink two-piece bikini set – considering that’s what all the cool girls do on Odyssey nowadays – and took a seat down onto a garden chair– basking in the sun’s beams as she looked up to the sun itself, adjusting the sunglasses resting on her face.

“Let’s put the truth out there from the beginning—it feels good to be back wrestling again on Odyssey.”

“Corruption within the system of how things have been run around here have made me become the one who had to suffer, but that never truly put me down for good, it only fueled me to find a way back in no matter what—and as we look to a new future here on Odyssey? It only made sense that I came back when I did and it only made sense to do what I had done upon my return to this brand. That hatred for those that had done me dirty, the hatred for those that done me wrong, they fuelled me to become a better version of myself overtime because they made me realize that—even though I thought I was more improved of my own emotions back then—I had held onto what I had left and when that was taken away from me? I couldn’t handle the fact that there was nothing for me to fall back on.” She paused for a moment, taking a deep breath before lowering her head. “I’m sure I’ve got Llorona all pissed off that I’m back and I gave her a piece of my own mind, letting out all of those months of frustration onto her, but she’s got zero idea as to what I plan on doing now that I am here, back on Odyssey, and ready to fight like my whole life depends on every fight once again.”

“As for what’s ahead right now? Well, could you ever be so surprised that I’ve decided to take up such an opportunity? Once I had known of there being an open challenge awaiting anyone that wanted to step up, I knew that I had to take it whilst I could—even if I swore I saw Angelina Magnum try to put her name down for this match as well—but that’s besides the point, because look what we have before us, I finally got the rematch for the Goddesses Championship that I should’ve been rewarded with when I lost it to Gwen Harper last year. I’ve been awaiting the day that I would’ve been given this shot and considering that I got a very formidable champion and opponent ahead of me for that title? I know I got a whole lot to prove in this fight.” A slight smirk grows along her lips. “A woman who’s etching so close to breaking the record of becoming the longest reigning Goddesses Champion, I have to say that I am nothing more than impressed with how much you’ve come a long way, NAMI. There was a time where barely anyone knew who you were and you were racking up losses on the scoreboard for such a long time, though– I know how that feels as well, I racked up a few of those along the way as well before becoming Goddesses Champion.”

“I’m not going to rush down that path of us being so similar in how we’ve come a long way around here on Odyssey, NAMI, but I’m sure anyone looking into this match would know just how similar we have been and how much a match like this might’ve been something a long time coming for the both of us—a quite friendly bout with a championship on the line, nothing big there, eh?”

Once again, that same smirk appears along her lips. Rebecca slowly removed the sunglasses from her face and looked down toward the camera recording her, finally giving the viewers a glimpse of the stern look within her eyes—very different from how she sounded, seemingly playful with the viewers.

“There’s a whole lot riding on this match, you know it and I know it—but those dreams of yours to become the longest reigning champion of that specific title you’ve got in your possession? I’d love to be the one that puts those dreams away and leaves them to rot away. There’s nothing but respect for you, NAMI. Though, I’ve been gone ever since February of this year and in those five to six months that I’ve been gone? I’ve become a little bit more hungry for success.” A beat. “It’s why I took up this challenge, because I wanna feel success whilst also going ahead and stepping up to one of the best that this brand has right now. This isn’t about wanting to take your title, this isn’t about breaking only your chance to shatter the record books, but this is a chance to prove myself once again—a chance that I can still go, shake off that ring rust, and put in that fucking effort once again. And if I just so happen to win the Goddesses Championship out of it? Then that’s an extra that I can work with.”

“Bring the absolute best that you could give me, NAMI, because I want to fight a good fight again. I want that thrill, I want that adrenaline rush, I want everything to get myself hyped enough to continue fighting to the very end. And I couldn’t think of a better person to do it with than you, NAMI. See you on Saturday, sweets.”

The shades slowly come back onto her face as she lays back down onto the garden chair, indulging into the sun before the feed slowly fades to black.

Alyssa Grace has spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos July 21st 2022, 10:17 pm by **Angelina Magnum**

Angelina Magnum

Double Chocolate Special

As the doors to Q(ueen) Branch open, Angelina Magnum steps through a number of security measures, fingerprints, retinal scans, a laser measurement of her bust. She finally enters the hallowed sanctum, a wondrous lab of untold inventive genius, funded by all the top names in fashion. She is greeted by the man only known as Q.

Q: Magnum, I’m glad you could make it.

Angelina: I haven’t got all day, Q, I’ve got a match to win. Show me what you’ve been working on.

Q: Gladly, we took some of your notes and built a devoted lab, trying to find a weakness in the supposedly unbeatable Rebecca Filth.

Angelina: Good…good, what’s this?

Angelina gestures to a large wall of screens with paper being constantly fed into it.

Q: Ah, THAT is the PromoKing 2150. We fed every single one of Rebecca Filth’s promos into it, and an AI program will reproduce your average Filth promo.

*DING*

Q: Oh, it’s finished! Take a look!

Angelina grabs a piece of paper that exits a printer port on the machine.

Angelina: …this is just a link to her OnlyFans account.

Q: My inventions are never wrong.

Angelina peruses the lab a little more, it is filled with people in hazmat suits and lab coats tinkering away.

Angelina: Seems like a lot of precautions for a pro wrestling lab…what the…is…is that?

Q: I wouldn’t go near that if I were you. THAT is a hermetically sealed box, inside is a used pair of Rebecca Filth’s panties. The vast collection of STDs she’s contracted over the years allowed us to synthesise a new bacteria…which rapidly evolved into a virus.

Angelina glances over to a cryo unit, containing a vial labelled “COVID-22”.

Angelina: How could that possibly help me beat Rebecca?

Q: Oh, that one’s not for you, we’ve currently got Russia and China bidding for it, we have to keep the lights on down here. We DID get your request to put together a psychological profile of Rebecca though, we managed to compile a list of everyone she’s ever slept with and inputted it into our most powerful supercomputer to analyse.

Angelina: And how did that go?

Q gestures to a giant supercomputer with smoke billowing out of it and a broken screen.

Angelina: Uh-huh. So basically you’ve got nothing for me? You know I’m about to fight a woman who wants to murder me, right?

Q: Well, perhaps I can interest you in our new Blackfish Tanning Unit? We currently have it set to your preferred Double Chocolate finish.

Angelina: Maybe later. Look, the goal of this match is a simple one: rip the woman’s clothes off, and I want to AVOID that happening to me. So tell me…is it ready?

Q: I thought you’d never ask.

Q pulls a remote out of his pocket and presses a red button, alarms sound as a mannequin torso rises from the floor below. On it is a beautiful red corset, adorned with all manner of straps and fasteners.

Q: Behold…the FilthBuster.

Angelina: It’s…it’s beautiful.

Q: 15 micro layers of tri-weave, titanium dipped material, each strap made from the leather of the strongest cows, it is the tightest corset ever made from the outside, but on the inside, it is incredibly manoeuvrable and breathable. Trust me when I tell you that no woman on Earth will be able to take this off of you, not even one as seasoned at ripping off clothes as Rebecca Filth.

Angelina leaps at the mannequin with a flurry of mad hand dashes that bamboozle everyone around her. When the dust settles, she stands with the FilthBuster completely free and in her hands.

Q: But…but how…?

Angelina: Honey, Filth might have put more people in beds than a veteran’s hospital, but that doesn’t mean taking off clothes is her speciality. She is walking into MY world. This corset is a work of art and will surely flummox her, but me? I’ve been doing fashion shows and pageants since I could walk. Do you have ANY idea how many times I’ve had to change in and out of outfits against the clock? This is what I do, all day, every day. Rebecca is going to walk into that match in her gross gear that hasn’t been washed since Bush was President, I’m going to wear enough hand sanitizer to kill Lady Macbeth, and then I’m gonna strip her down like the whore she is.

Because Filth’s perspective is warped. She sees herself as a main character and hey, being world champion, I can understand why someone would develop that idea. Thing is, like in all good TV shows, you have to recast after a while. Filth is…FINE, but I’m not here for fine, I’m here for ELITE. Look at her and look at me, is she ELITE? What, she beat up a bunch of uggos and I’m supposed to be intimidated? She isn’t writing her history book right now, she’s writing her final storyline in everyone’s favourite wrestling show. The producers have stepped in and told her they found someone better, younger, hotter to take over the role. She had a good little run! It’s just…well, I wasn’t fast tracked to this spot because I don’t deserve it, I was fast tracked here because I am custom-built to shock the world. Rebecca Filth: Killer of women, slayer of souls, guzzler of gas station loads, it’s the same tired sob story. Well done to her, she’s the one victim of sexual exploitation who actually did something with their lives rather than whine about “trauma” or whatever made-up trend is dominating culture these days.

But all those loads have seeped into her brain because she’s not too smart. Yeah, I ran away from the zombies, you know why? Because they were fucking zombies. Idiot. Just because necrophilia’s the one thing Bex is keen to tick off her list, doesn’t mean I want to be a party to it. Then she wants to rave on and on and on like a broken vibrator about how she’s gonna rip me apart, beat me up, “expose me”, aside from my tits - which are way better than her stupid natural ones - what will she expose? She has everything to lose and nothing to gain here. If she wins, she took some clothes off of a rookie to kick off her “legendary” title reign, wow, compelling stuff there. More people would be talking about getting to see me stripped down than about her retaining her title anyway. If she LOSES? Oh wow…the embarrassment, the SHAME, it would be nothing compared to me standing there in the buff. I’ve done it thousands of times in front of a paying audience, why would it bother me?

If Rebecca Filth loses her entire empire, her history that she talks so proudly of…it crumbles. That’s why reputations are such a bitch, they take forever to build and no time at all to destroy. I don’t have to “beat” Rebecca Filth, do I? I don’t have to out-wrestle her, pin her, submit her, none of that nonsense. I have to take off her damn clothes. Has there ever been an easier lay-up? She’s an idiot, she gifted me with a stipulation that works to my advantage because of her own hubris. Thing is with all those amazing warriors who build legacies is that they die young. Oh, they burn bright, but they flicker fast.

Every time Rebecca steps in that ring, she’s chipped away at, nobody stays unbeaten forever. Her first night on the job here, she lost to a washed Natalie Cage and vowed to never lose again, she’s chasing a ghost. Natalie finessed her and she can’t stand it. She put her ass down and then ran off to retirement, showed up again to take out Alyssa and ran away once more. Filth’s rage that she’s so reliant on is driven by the very shame she thinks I have. I know, Rebecca Filth being capable of shame? Insanity, right? Well, it’s true. She was beat by a has-been who wasn’t even trying any more and she couldn’t stand it, she looked at every “rassler” on that roster and went for their necks. I am not a rassler, I am not like her. We are not peers, we are not colleagues, I am above her. She looks at me and sees a hunk of plastic because she never had the self-respect to go out and enhance herself. I am not plastic, I am solid gold, baby! A body designed to turn heads, to get people talking. The only people talking about Rebecca Filth’s body are the men describing to their doctors where their monkeypox came from.

I am no footnote, I am the beginning of Odyssey’s latest and best chapter. I have arrived to liberate people from the never-ending parade of sex puns, bad breath and edge lord, gender-swapped Darkane monologues. I am here to show everyone that it is possible to be perfect, but to keep them humble enough to know that it’s reserved for a select few. Odyssey is TV, it should be populated with people who the regular slobs look at and worship, knowing they’ll never be as good as them. How is Rebecca Filth supposed to provide anything other than post-nut clarity so severe it leads to a spike in male suicide? Rebecca is so, so mad that after everything she’s done, all the people she’s run through, all the doubters she’s silenced, that her first defence is against me. She’s dealing with rage at the establishment, at my presence here, she has to look over her shoulder for that crazy Banshee bitch at all times. Me? I have one goal: take off her clothes. I have no worries, no fears, no apprehensions, I know what I have to do and it’s so simple. Rebecca is…well she’s about to get a harsh lesson in what it ACTUALLY takes to be the centre of attention. Talk as much as she might about being the best, this is the first time she’s actually had a decent chunk of people caring about her and she’s already surrounded on all sides. The walls are closing in real fast, she doesn’t have the mental strength to be world champion. She barely has the mental strength to get out of whoever’s bed she’s in in the morning.

Odyssey deserves a better class of champion, and I’m gonna give it to them. Rebecca Filth looks at me and sees easy prey, good. Because when I step through those ropes looking hotter than her and with way more support, she’ll be confused, angry and try to take my head off. Let the beating come. Let her punch my head into the ground until I’m unrecognisable, it’s nothing my plastic surgeon can’t fix. When that red mist is descending, when all she can think about is destroying me on live TV, I will pick my moment. I will grab her shirt and with one, fluid motion, I will rip it off. Then, I’ll grab her pants before she’s even realised what happened to her shirt and I’ll have her. Ironically, it will be the most clothed she’s used to being, but it will be enough. Enough to win the title, enough to snap her streak, and enough to publicly humiliate OWA’s so-called “best”.

I’ll be surprised if she even makes it to the match anyway. Now that Roe vs. Wade’s overturned, she can’t get her 600th abortion when she lets a fan rawdog her. Wouldn’t that be something? The first OWA wrestler to relinquish a title because of pregnancy? Ha!

Angelina slings the corset over her shoulder and then eyes a delicious-looking sandwich on a counter, she picks it up and inspects the contents.

Angelina: What does this do?

Q: DON’T TOUCH THAT!

Everyone in the lab stops what they’re doing and looks towards them.

Q: That’s my lunch!

Jeff X, Alyssa Grace, Rebecca Filth, Felix Hartley and Chad Ecclestone have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos July 21st 2022, 8:34 pm by **marielacorriveau**

Cultural Exchange

At first there’s no video feed, just a black screen, and the fuzzy sound of voices. Marie is chatting with a man in a mix of badly accented Arabic and… well, also badly accented English, and he’s responding the same way.

“A needle, really? And there’s no marks at all? Tabernak.”

The man laughs and continues to describe the ritual, and Marie interjects every so often with a sound of amazement. The conversation goes on that way for a little while, while the screen remains blank, with no clue as to where they are other than the faraway sound of birdsong.

“Thank you for meeting with me. Really. This sort of thing… we need to do it more.”

-

When the video feed abruptly begins, Marie is standing on the outskirts of a small town, her hair piled up in a frizzy red bun to keep cool, wearing an incongruously breezy black jumpsuit. She’s missing her usual riot of esoteric jewelry, and instead all the camera picks up is a few studs in her ears and an old silvery key hanging around her neck on a leather cord. The camera moves for an establishing shot, and Marie’s arm comes out to stop the cameraman.

“No. Sorry, I know, but you found me at an awkward time. It’s not appropriate to show some people on camera, hein? Puts them in an odd spot.”

The camera instead moves the other way, showing where Violet is waiting for Marie in a shady spot by the tree line with her bike.

“Don’t mind her. I know she got a little bit rough with you earlier, but she’s just frustrated. In fact, we went directly to Indonesia from our training at my home in Montreal. I’m very grateful she agreed to this little detour - she’s a very considerate partner, you know. Knows me very well now, and I her.”

“Monsieur, our opponents are clearly scared. I don’t blame them. Look at Violet.”

The cameraman reluctantly turns to take Violet in again before snapping back to Marie, clearly worried about annoying her again. Marie laughs and shakes her head.

“Relax. She’s not going to attack you - your name isn’t Becca Black or Killer Kalisi last time I checked. Killer. That’s cute, hein? I think we’ve been a bit too easy on her. Ah, there’s only so much to say. She’s just arrived. She did win her debut, which is lovely, good for her… but she doesn’t exactly blow me away. I commend her for having something to fight for, really, making your family proud is très admirable. But… well, it doesn’t really make a difference here, does it?”

Marie clicks her tongue and looks over at Violet. The cameraman, perhaps sensing he won’t keep getting lucky, doesn’t follow her gaze.

“You need more than just skill to make it in a tag team match. You need trust. I don’t think Becca will trust anyone after being left to twist in the wind two weeks ago, and she’d be very right not to. I certainly wouldn’t put myself in the position to be sacrificed like that again. But then… I don’t think I would put myself in that position at all. And Kalisi, câlice, would you want her behind you? No. She seems like she would be very happy to let anyone down, just to keep her ego intact. I think I know exactly how this will go. The two of them will scramble to get glory for themselves, they won’t help each other, and they won’t trust that help will be forthcoming when it’s needed. Of course, they would be right, because they haven’t come together enough to actually make a team. And that will be more than enough for Violet and I to make it a very, very bad night for them.”

“Violet has absolutely no problem with being just as brutal as it takes to put down either one of these women, and she has only made me better. The purpose she’s brought me has lit a fire, and I am willing to give everything to keep it stoked. Because of Violet, I have reached a place I was never capable of before. I think I got close, from time to time, but these past two weeks with Violet have been unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.”

She pulls a wooden fan from her small cloth purse and starts to fan herself.

“Excuse me. The heat doesn’t really agree with me.” Marie looks over at Violet again and laughs at something the camera doesn’t pick up, pressing her lips together to try and stifle the sound.

“Violet and I are a team. That’s what this is about. You can’t win a tag team belt if you’re not a team. I’m sure they can put up a fight, but that’s not enough. Not now that the two of us are together. Violet and I have already travelled distances together that most tag teams never do. We’ve forged a connection through sorcery the likes of which OWA has never seen. Whatever Becca and Kalisi bring to the ring in three days, it won’t be enough.”

Jeff X, Alyssa Grace, Lazarus Arjen and Violet Cunningham have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos July 21st 2022, 4:59 pm by **Alyssa Grace**

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How long can you keep running until everything you’ve been running from catches up to you? The clichés never end. The inevitable always triumphs and drops its weight into your chest until you can’t anymore—until you can’t breathe unless you turn around and face the truth. It’s always reaching for my shoulder, beckoning me to listen, and pulling stress taut across my neck as a form of torture. The pain I fail to harbour always has its way with me eventually. And I’m angry. But what is anger? It’s ripped pages for move ideas in notebooks and gear sketches burning in a fire. It’s half-finished inventions tossed out the window to shatter on the cobblestones, raised voices, wide gestures with calloused, bloodstained hands. For me, anger is loud. It’s loud and explosive and fiery. It’s frustration unleashed. I’ll shout until I’m alone, and I’ll keep shouting until I’m hoarse and the words won’t come anymore. It burns fast. And when it’s all out and I’m left with a hollow heart and bruised knuckles, that exhaustion will have me sitting and breathing hard. Anger is easy, but what comes after is hard. Mending bridges. Or inventing new ones. I’ve always been a fuse. Bogged down by expectations. Sitting in the emptiness and the quiet. Regardless, I approach the world as an open wound. Anger is quick and near the surface. All my kindness, my gentleness, and my pride make me easy to wound. There’s salt to toss there on the oozing healing mess of it. Quick to lash out, hard, angry, and sharp, weapons brandished and ready to do battle. Quick to be soothed, too. Surrender and it dissipates into nothing as quickly as that anger reared its ugly head. Temperamental, they might call it. Either way, I take it too far. Always. In every respect. I see lines and step right over them. Brashly. Angrily. I wield it like the weapon it is. Unfortunately for everyone, nearly everyone’s just collateral damage. Even if I’ll turn on my heel and wield it in a new direction when prompted. I am vengeful and hurtful with my words, physically violent with my things, I burn bright and fast and sputter out. Every emotion I have is felt deeply, intimately, fleetingly. Sadness tends to linger just a little longer than the rest, but I weep. I sob. I cling. My shoulders shake with the weight of it. Sometimes I don’t move. The bed holds my shape when I peel myself away. I drink. I smoke. Just to quiet the loudness. And I carry on with wet cheeks and trembling hands until it’s gone. And I’m just fine.

As long as my feet can still run, I’m just fine.

I keep my eyes up, fixated on the horizon, I can’t allow them to dip. It’s the only thing that can be done in the wake of such disappointment. To move forward almost ignorantly, hoping and praying that I can leave everything behind me; long, long behind me. Ignorantly, thinking that everything will become but a distant glimmer flickering well and truly behind me. Ignorantly, believing that it can’t keep up. The only thing I fear in this world is the ever-looming threat of stagnation; the thick muck rising beneath my feet, daring to drag me back, drag me down, cause me to stagnate. That state of being is so crippling, so defeating, so emotionally draining that anyone with their eyes set on greatness, who knows their greatness beckons, who knows that it’s all possible, is soul crushing. It’s only those beaten down until it’s all stripped away from them that stagnation doesn’t seem all too unkind, all too unfriendly. In a way, it’s comforting to them but to someone like me? It’s a hell that I can’t imagine enduring. And everything I’ve done, everything that I’ve said, everything that I’ve set my eyes upon has been - at its very core with all other reasons and aesthetics washed away - to avoid remaining stuck, remaining stagnated, remaining the failure I’ve been. I still have the same desires now as I did last season, that unrivalled taste of glory remains dancing on the tip of my tongue, but I find myself having no choice but to accept who Alyssa Grace has been, who I currently am. Perhaps this is utter desperation leaking from all my pores, begging fate itself to finally lead me to my desired promised land but unlike many, this isn’t a mere flick of a switch. My shortcomings, my failures, those consequences that I’ve had to endure for all my actions; those right, those wrong, those that can’t be split.

And so I start again.

With the baddest fucker I know standing right by my side.

Despite being formed in failure, the power of incredible violence has taken the tag team scene by storm and for the first time in months, I once again have confidence flowing through my veins. If I had a dollar for everytime someone has told me to merely place my trust into a process that evidently doesn’t trust me, I’d have enough to retire - it’s difficult to find anything in this industry to put trust into and that’s why I value the relationship Liz and I have formed in such a short time. She has beaten the everliving fuck out of me and I’ve beaten the everliving fuck out of her - why not join forces and beat the everliving fuck out of everyone before us together? They say that when one door closes, another opens and following Final Destination and then the Draft Show, I couldn’t have predicted that the grass is indeed greener on the other side. This is an opportunity for me to start again, and be better whilst not forgetting that I am still the woman who lost those important matches, who experienced that slump and I have to use it as motivation to do better, not put it behind me, lock it inside a closet and hope it shall not break free again. The expectations the world has of me are those I have of myself and that makes me determined to throw all I can into these next few months with more ferocity than I have ever shown before. If I have to get more violent to thrive then I have no qualms with that. Because now I’m not just fighting for myself, I’m fighting for Liz too. And I find that, I find her to be quite the powerful motivator. Of course, on the surface, this is about Liz and I ensuring we hold three different sets of tag team championships belonging to different promotions, everyone involved in this little tournament to determine the teams that shall challenge for the right to be the inaugural OWA Women’s Tag Team Champions is fighting for the same simple goal. But for Liz and I, this is far more important, far more meaningful, this is something bigger than most can comprehend.

But you understand, don’t you BIANCA?

I have slightly mixed emotions heading into this bout and competing against you, my Corsair in arms. It is no secret that since your return we have formed quite the friendship, you certainly make a better ally than you do enemy and whilst I think extremely highly of you and hold you in a special place in my heart, the facts that I face are simple - you aren’t Liz. You may be one of my greatest friends, but you aren’t my partner. Anyone who isn’t my partner gets their skull fucking caved in with no apologies made. I’ll check up on you after our bout, make sure you aren’t too hurt, maybe I’ll bring you some win but you will never hear me utter the phrase “I’m sorry.” You’re woman enough to understand that too, I hope. If not, truthfully that isn’t really my issue. Things are certainly far different now in comparison to the last time we fought but one thing will remain the same, you will lose. You and Ellie will not be advancing to Game Over to fight for those tag team championships because they were never meant to be in your hands. It’s unfortunate to some extent because I do want you to succeed, I just can’t let it happen at my expense. And I’m way too familiar with you on a professional level to know that you’re not going to make it easy, it wasn’t easy last time and you’ve proven to be triple the woman now in comparison to last year, I’m excited to face the new and improved BIANCA and I’m even more excited to beat her.

And then there’s Ellie Quinn.

I’d say I wish we met under better circumstances, for you anyways, but that wouldn’t be truthful. Around this time every year, we get an influx of fresh faces, some wind up being strong enough to stick around and handle the heat whereas others fade away into oblivion before their name can be spoken in full. For the benefit of this brand, I sure hope you don’t fall into the latter class after suffering defeat at the hands of the power of incredible violence, that would be a genuine shame. The more genuine competition I can get my hands on, the better for everyone. Liz seems to be far more familiar with you than I am and whilst it wouldn’t be fair of me to completely judge your character off her experiences with you and the comments she has made, it's enough to make me side eye you. I hope the magnitude of this opportunity, facing Liz and I and having BIANCA as your temporary partner isn’t lost on you. I guess I’ll find out if it is or not soon enough.

I've waited... and waited, and waited some more. I'm done waiting, I'm through with listening to every tick a clock makes. I now want to know what makes everyone else tick; what drives them off the edge of insanity. I'm on a wavelength now that should honestly scare this division. Of course it doesn't because they haven't seen the end result. But I have. Because let’s be honest, even in this state, even on my worst day, I’m one of the biggest fucking threats in this entire company. Yeah, bouncing back off two big back to back losses isn’t ideal but take a look at the women who beat me and what they had to do to beat me. I’ve never claimed to be indestructible but I have always reassured myself and the world that I am resilient. This season is simple, I’m not looking to smile, shake hands and kiss babies, I’m not looking to place nice or be a friend to anyone outside of my small but trusty circle, I’m not looking to be anything I have been so far, I’m looking to be the bane of everyone’s fucking existence. Life is like a twisted inside joke that everyone's a part of but only I'm truly in on -- better yet it's a wicked game that I always seem to win -- because the more people who prey on my downfall, the more I find myself succeeding. So please, Ellie and BIANCA, doubt me, run your mouth about me, please count me out again, please pour salt in the wound and salivate at the sting, it'll be worth the pulsating pain so I too can salivate at the look on your faces whilst I climb over this hump and find my way back to the top of the world, hand in hand with one of the toughest cunts in existence, those tag titles wrapped securely around our waists. What’s that saying again? Those who laugh last, laugh best?

OWA Promos - Page 3 Flq6layhWVpPkOy1-JeI9CUTmjEtj35fQVgMCLYJ_jQuaH8JhryNDF66A3jBxhFHZsG-_S8i83O4V-sdClBGCsptmZKosOPCNK2x_JNSj4OruhutQZgNdtjADcQxJt-EDOMZUjQpna0bMlvDRZxVDw

DT The Ruler, Violet Cunningham and Chad Ecclestone have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos July 21st 2022, 4:44 pm by **Quinn**

the quinnsane diaries.

chapter three. // hesitation is the enemy.

A loud, agitated sigh is heard as the camera fades in from black to the sight of a very annoyed looking Ellie Quinn, looking up to the ceiling of her kitchen and shaking her head before addressing the root of her problems.

“You know, I really, really should’ve known better than to think that Becca Black could actually get the job done. But, that’s what I get for trusting some fucking nobody to become a somebody. And that’s the last time I put my faith in someone to actually do something for me, fucking hell. And to top it all off, after one partner shits the fucking bed, I get put in a tag team match in this fucking tournament. And who, may you ask, did they fucking put me with?” BIANCA. Fucking BIANCA. Really? Out of all the people you could’ve stuck me with for this tournament, you pick the one woman who’s more agitating than Remi Skyfire, Skylar Edwards and Tyler Wolfe all put to-fucking-gether. Unbe-fucking-lievable.”

Running a hand over her face, Ellie’s eyes widen, blowing out a breath as she attempts to maintain a modicum of composure.

“No, it’s—it’s fine. It’ll be fine. Just…FUCK!”

The frustration boiling over, Ellie paws at an empty whiskey glass, sending it sliding off the table with a loud crash, the glass shattering across the floor. Eyes darting back and forth, left to right, Ellie runs both hands through her hair as she takes a seat at the kitchen table, tugging at her short jet-black locks.

“This bitch has been a pain in my ass since the first day I stepped into this company, and now you people really expect me to play nice and fucking tag with her!? Get real, man! Get! Fucking! Real! I’d be better off teaming with a broom! Hell, at least the broom has more personality and is less of a narcissistic bitch. Not to mention the fact that she’s fuckin’ friends with the two people we’re facing. Like…is this some kind of fucking joke? I may have born at night, but I sure as fuck wasn’t born last night. I’ve been watching JET over in Japan, I know the fucking havoc you three are wreaking over there. Unfortunately for you three, this sure as fuck isn’t JET, and I’m not dumb enough to fall for the same shit those joshi bitches are falling for. So if you think you three can fuck around and try and use me to make some sort of statement, I’ll rip all three of your fucking heads off and turn them into buckets to piss in.”

“So BIANCA, go ahead. Try something. I dare you, I fucking dare you to try something. You want to know why? Because unlike two shows ago, you won’t be able to attack me from behind this time. Unlike last show, you won’t be able to overpower some fucking scrub this time. I’m a whole different animal than Becca Black, and if you fuck me out of this match, I won’t stop hunting you down until you’re in the goddamn ground, bitch. You might think you’re all that, you might think that you’re hot shit, but if you want to play games with me, I’m going to humble you real fucking quick, blondie. Don’t fuck with me if you don’t want your family to be weeping over your corpse, because I won’t hesitate to make you the second wrestler on OWA’s roster that winds up fucking dead.”

Ellie leans back in the chair, taking a few deep breaths as she shuts her eyes, propping her combat boots up on the kitchen table as she takes a few moments to calm down. Finally able to wipe the red mist out of her eyes, she gets back into a normal seated position before standing back up, leaning against the kitchen island, combing her fingers through her hair to get it back into its normal positioning.

“Alright, whatever, fine, just stay the fuck out of my way and don’t get up to your usual bullshit and I won’t have to drop you, BIANCA. Get it? Got it? Good. Good talk, fuck you. Now, as for the other two bozos I’m going to have to put up with, your little fuckin’ friends.. Liz fuckin’ Karlson. Ol’ GB’s heir apparent. You know, Liz, you almost remind me of me. Always looking for a fight, always looking for someone to beat the shit out. Full of piss and vinegar and ready to fuck the entire world up to get what we want. I almost respect it…almost. Yeah, Graham and I were allies, but I don’t have the same respect for you that I have for him. Listen up, Lizzy, you might be the Ace of APEX. But against me in that ring? Against me, you’re all-in with a pair of threes, and I’m sitting on a Royal Flush. Translation: You’re fucked. You might think that you’re the biggest, baddest dog in the yard, but I’m going to put you on a leash and make you roll over before I make you my bitch.”

A soft chuckle leaves Ellie’s lips as she stretches her arms above her head, cracking her neck before cracking her knuckles.

“Now then…Alyssa Grace. Look at you, gingertits. You began your career pretty damn close to the time I started making a name for myself, and I gotta’ be honest, you’ve done a lot more than I have, so kudos. Kudos to you. But just because you’ve been dealt a good hand or two sure as fuck doesn’t mean that you’re better than me, babygirl. I’ll spare you all the same ginger jokes and Ireland jokes you’ve probably already heard a million times, and just tell you that if you think that you’re better than me because you’ve been gifted a few lucky days by the grace of whatever deity choose you kneel to, you’re sadly mistaken, babygirl. Because you step in that ring with me, and I’ll make the deity that you kneel to is Ellie fucking Quinn when I make you bend the knee and bow before the new fucking King of Odyssey.”

“You, Liz, BIANCA, I know all three of you think you can run roughshod over one company and try and take it over, but this isn’t JET, this isn’t APEX, this sure as fuck isn’t Project: Honor, this ain’t even Kingdom Pro. This is a whole new landscape, a whole new territory to be taken over, and unlike the three of you? I’ve actually taken over a company, and my friends would just as soon stab you than they would shake your hand. And if you three think you can hatch some sort of plan to fuck me over, then my friends will gladly leave you three in hospital beds. But…sorry to be a real…killjoy, but I sure as fuck ain’t talking about Killjoy Club, either. See, that shit is dead and buried with Kingdom Pro and Michael Bishop. I’ve got new friends now, and they’re a real shock to your system.”

“So Lizzie, Alyssa, you two can claim up and down that you’re this incredible violence until you’re both blue in the face, because it doesn’t mean shit to me when I was one of the most violent motherfuckers in Kingdom Pro. I’ve ended people’s careers, I’ve shortened people’s careers, hell, I’ve shortened my own goddamn career, and I’ve left people in hospital beds with a fucking smile on my face…and those were people I actually gave a shit about. What do you three think I’ll do to someone I couldn’t care less about? So, I want the three of you to take a good, long, hard look in the mirror. Stare into your own fucking souls and actually ask yourself if you have the balls to deal with the repercussions of pissing off Ellie Quinn, because I promise you, if you think I’m a miserable fuck now? Just wait until I’m gunning for your heads with a baseball bat, because I’ll be swinging like I’m Sammy motherfucking Sosa.”

“I’ll take you all on if I have to, and I’ll put you all down.”

Alyssa Grace and DT The Ruler have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos July 21st 2022, 1:54 pm by **Chad Ecclestone**

SEASON FIVE - EPISODE THREE

THE MAN, THE MYTH, THE MONTAGE

‘The Final Countdown’ plays over a black screen, as Hollywood Narration Guy speaks.

“Deep inside the subterranean, multi-million dollar fitness facility in his luxurious beachfront estate in Paradise Cove Bluffs, our intrepid hero Chad Ecclestone prepares himself for his next challenge. While the ugly, overweight and poor citizens of this once-great nation sleep in their slovenly beds, he trains, he prepares, he waits for his next shot at vengeance against the sport of professional wrestling. Settle in, viewers, as we join this training montage already in-progress...”

The screen dissolves to a view of the actor’s impressively equipped home gym. There are several large monuments to his ego erected throughout, in the form of larger-than-life statues in various poses.

A reimagining of the Rodin sculpture ‘The Thinker’ shows Chad’s likeness in granite, his fist against his chin deep in thought.

Carved from marble is a statue of a nude Chad, copying the pose of Michelangelo’s David, but with considerably more girth and length.

Molded from gold, a replica of the Statue of Liberty, with a dress-wearing Chad holding a torch high into the air, providing metaphorical light and hope to the metaphorically hopeless and lightless.

There’s even a sacrilegious version of Christ the Redeemer with Chad, complete with long Jesus hair, holding his arms wide in loving acceptance.

The music switches to ‘Danger Zone’ by Kenny Loggins, as a sweaty, shirtless Chad deadlifts, pedals on a platinum Peloton bike, and does a bunch of ridiculous CrossFit exercises. Chad’s voice narrates over the music.

“Ever since I was a kid, I knew the value of determination. Drive. Conviction. This may be a surprise to my devoted followers and fans, but there are some jealous little peons out there who think I’m lazy, who think I’m not capable of putting in the work to accomplish my goals. Do I take the occasional shortcut? Sure I do. Who wouldn’t, in my position? Using my fathers contacts to get my big break in Hollywood, knocking out that loud-talking son of a bitch Darius Harrell with a pair of gold knuckles... I’m not averse to doing things the easy way. But if you think I do it because I’m incapable of taking the honest route, of focusing on what needs to be done, then you haven’t been paying attention to the career of Chad Ecclestone, who is I. I’ve been doing my own stunts ever since my blockbuster performance in ‘Speed 3: Muslims on a Plane’, so the idea I’m some feckless, soft Hollywood liberal who’ll fold under pressure is ridiculous and offensive. Would you say the same to Tom Cruise? No, you wouldn’t. So to all my haters out there, to everyone who thinks this wrestling thing is a lark and I’ve got no chance at success in OWA, I’ve got one thing to say to you all.”

Chad finishes a set of skullcrushers, sitting up on the bench and wiping sweat from his brow. He stares into the camera, flashes his famous smile, and points at the screen as he winks.

“Just watch.”

There’s a jump cut into a live scene of him defending against an unseen opponent’s strikes. The camera is tightly focused on his chiseled physique, with his training partner remaining off-screen. After blocking a roundhouse kick with his forearm, Chad gestures for a break and addresses the viewer.

“I had every intention of playing this little wrestling thing straight. I really did. Then Kenny ‘Scorpion King’ Drake decided to stick his greasy fingers into my OWA debut, setting me up in a handicap match against Noah Krieger and a pit full of venomous, stinging bitch insects. It was then that I realized something profound. If they’re not going to play fair, why the hell should I? So, Noah Krieger is rewarded with a main event spot for his attempt on my life, no doubt paid off by someone within the company, and Darius Harrell is headed back to Atlantic City minus a few brain cells. Such is life. If I have to sweep trash from the midcard for a few months to show that I mean business, I’m okay with that. I’m not in this for glory or fame, I’ve got enough of both already. I’m in this to make a point, and despite my insane hourly rate for appearances and my busy schedule, I’m a patient man.”

From off-screen, the voice of Chad’s training partner is heard. The camera pulls back to reveal none other than martial arts legend and all-American hero, Chuck Norris.

“Not that I mind coming down here to help you out, Chad, but why call me out of the blue for training? You don’t have any martial arts roles to prepare for.”

“My match against this chump, Tamagotchi-san.”

“Don’t you mean Taniguchi?”

“Gesundheit.”

“No, I was saying his name is ‘Taniguchi’ not ‘Tamagotchi’. You must have been thinking about those Chinese spy devices from the late 90’s.”

“Hmm, that sounds wrong. I think I got it right the first time.”

“Okay, fine... but isn’t it going to be a wrestling match? Why are you practicing martial arts instead of grappling? Does your opponent know Kung Fu?”

“Don’t they all?”

“Who is ‘they’?”

“You know what the hell I mean, Chuck, and I’d appreciate it if you stop pretending that you don’t.”

Shaking his head at the disrespect from his guest, Chad picks up where he left off.

“As I was saying, next in line to get a taste of fame from being in the ring with a real star is Tamagotchi Cena, a man who has done nothing to earn such an honor. Hardly surprising, since OWA is a place where losers are given shots they don’t deserve, and good, honest, hard-working men such as myself are punished for daring to live a decent life. So, Mr. Cena, let me start by telling you the hard truth that Emmanuelle, Carlos and all those other clowns won’t. Nobody cares about what you do in the ring. Nobody cares if you can go sixty minutes without breaking a sweat. Nobody cares if you put on five star bangers week after week. Nobody cares if you can execute a picture-perfect Reverse 720 Avalanche Emerald Flosion, whatever the fuck that may be. People want someone with shine, charisma, personality, that certain ‘je ne sais quoi’. Let’s see you cut a promo that has people on the edge of their seats. Go ahead, I’ll wait.”

He actually stops and waits, checking his watch as he does.

“Seriously, I’m waiting. Let’s see what you’ve got, hotshot. I want to see if you learned anything in Carlos’ wrestling school... aside from putting the audience to sleep, that is. No? Didn’t think so. Look, I’m not trying to be hard on you here. After all, you remind me of a less talented, less charismatic, less intelligent and less attractive me. Oh, and aside from the whole Asian thing too, of course. My point is, I like the cut of your jib, so I’m going to give you some free advice. That succubus Emmanuelle is leading you down a dark path, whispering sweet nothings in your ear about the ‘glory of the sport’ as you lay together at night. Trust me when I say she doesn’t have your best interests at heart. To put it plainly, there’s no future for you in this business. Fortunately, you’re still young, and you’ve got your whole life ahead of you. Alright, sure, you’ve wasted years training for a dead-end career in a dead-end sport, but that’s no big deal. A naïve young man like you, it’s no surprise that foul temptress Emmanuelle has poisoned your mind.”

“Well, bucko, it’s time for your wake-up call. And you can call me Chad ‘The Alarm Clock’ Ecclestone, because I’m going to be the one to snap you out of your daydreaming stupor. I’m going to show you that all your effort, sweat, and blood don’t mean a thing when you’re up against someone with god-given talent. In the end, you’ll thank me for showing you the light. Maybe not right away, but in tean years when you’re running your own overpriced Sushi restaurant in San Francisco, you’ll remember when Chad Ecclestone showed you the error of your ways. You’ll remember the exact moment that I pinned you, and set you on the path to becoming something slightly more respectable than a professional thug in wrestling trunks.”

“Don’t believe me? Doesn’t matter, because the outcome is going to be the same. I’m going to show you that you just don’t have what it takes. You’ll be crushed, for a while... but you’ll eventually move on, and everyone will be better for it. Including the audience who won’t have to suffer through your snore-inducing ring work anymore. God knows the degenerate trash who actually watch OWA have been through enough, the last thing they need is another charisma vacuum putting everyone to sleep. Let me make it real simple. You’re just. Not. Interesting. What’s the appeal? Another tired, overdone story about some boring, white-bread rookie just trying to make it in the business? Snoozeville!”

“Even the way you wrestle is a poor copy of others. Stealing a move from Emmanuelle here, a move from Carlos there. Frankly, it’s pathetic. And worse than that, it’s unoriginal! What’s the matter, not capable of having a thought of your own? Don’t have what it takes to blaze your own trail? Stuck following in the footsteps of washed-up athletes who came before you? You know what you are? You’re a sequel that nobody asked for, destined to bomb at the box office before fading into irrelevancy and taking the studio down with you. You’re the tenth movie in a franchise, a tired old rehash. You’re Friday the 13th XXI: Jason in the Hood. You’re Fast & Furious 15: Monaco Swerve. No, even worse than that, you’re Thor: Love and Thunder. Do you get my drift? Nobody is trying to see you in the main event of any wrestling company, I can promise you that much.”

“Shit, you’re being trained by nobodies, and I’ve got an American icon for a sparring partner. The man who took Bruce Lee to the limit in ‘The Way of the Dragon’. The man who avenged that humiliating defeat by putting the bullet in the prop gun that killed Bruce’s punk-ass kid Brandon years later.”

“Chad, I had nothing to do with that...”

“Wow, Chuck, how about you shut up? I’m talking now. Do me a favor and fu-”

Chad is cut off mid-response as his phone vibrates in his pocket. He pulls it out and checks the message, scowling as he reads the notification aloud.

“‘Kung Fu legend Jet Li at ringside’? Wow, they’re really throwing the word ‘legend’ around willy-nilly these days. This guy throws a few kicks, does a couple flips, and suddenly he’s a fucking legend? You know his name isn’t even Jet Li, right? It’s Li Jenlei, or something stupid like that. Imagine lying to the world by using a stage name, I could never. I still can’t believe this asshole beat me auditioning for Emperor of China in the live-action remake of Mulan... that’s the role I was born to play, and I was robbed!”

The superstar shakes his head in disbelief, scrolling through the phone.

“And where, or what, the fuck is Pyongyang? Some kind of noodle dish?”

“North Korea, son,” replies Chuck, “the villainous, communist twin brother of South Korea. If you ask me, we should’ve finished the job back in ‘53. I remember one time, back in the war, this filthy zippe-”

Chad promptly shoves his trainer and fellow actor off-camera.

“Okay, grandpa. Nobody asked for your life story. Don’t forget whose promo this is. I’m paying you for punchy-kicky, not talky-talky! Never mind, we’re done here, I’ve got an autograph signing in an hour.”

Alyssa Grace and DT The Ruler have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos July 20th 2022, 2:18 pm by **Noah Krieger**

KINGDOM — PROMO #1 | WARFARE.

I’ve always believed in standing up for those that weren’t given the opportunity to fight back…

This particular world that we currently inhabit is inhuman, no matter the good intentions that you put forth in an attempt to make it a more sustainable environment – it’s all for show. From early on in my childhood, I took nearly every possible direction imaginable to reach my final destination, never choosing to take shortcuts or handouts through the journey – and that’s always been my approach to life, no matter the obstacle at hand. Nonetheless, as I’ve traveled across the globe to chase my dream of one day being recognized as not one of, but the BEST IN THE WORLD! However, as one may imagine in this time and age, this world hasn’t made the journey an unchallenging one, as I’ve dealt with sorrow, despair, and heartbreak. But today? I just feel fuckin’ pissed off.

Growing up in downtown Chicago, I was taught from an early age to never betray those that have traveled a similar path as you, and up to this evening, I’ve never once disembarked from this motto. I’ve handled my fair share of battles, never stepping back from one that may appear, but I’ve never once made enemies for the sake of having them. I’ve been tested on a consistent basis, many men have attempted to break me, to have my morals shatter all around me. However, what they somehow fail to realize is that if it was an easy task to break me, it would’ve happened a long time ago – but here I stand tall against all odds. In all honesty, even with the uncertainty that has divulged within my existence, I’ve been deemed the lucky one, and I couldn’t agree more. I have the fortunate ability to stand here in one piece, able to fully breathe on my own accord, without the constant worry of not being able to fend for yourself. If there’s one thing you can depend on in this lifetime – it’s yourself, and without it… what can you count on?

Absolutely nothing and nobody.

And when all of that undeniable trust starts to vanish, who can you stand beside? When I look at Micheal Bishop’s untimely demise, I see an unforgivable fighter, who attempted to make the best of what he’s been given, and I can completely understand this particular sense of drive. It might not be known to the vast majority, but Bishop and I only grew up a couple of blocks away from one another, never meeting eye to eye throughout our respective journeys. Nonetheless, it’s become abundantly clear that he’s been handed a highly difficult deck of cards, and has had to overcome a similar amount of obstacles as I once had to before. We come from the same streets, we’ve paved similar roads to reach our main objectives, and that’s why it was quite an unchallenging decision to make — for one-night only, I align myself with The Mafia to fight for one of my own, simply in hopes of finally meeting him. But for now? I fight not only to honor your name, but to prove to those responsible for your absence that from where we originate — mercy isn’t existent. I’ll show you all the same amount of mercy you showed Bishop during his coronation, and then we’ll see if you feel amused by the end of the evening.

I’ve always felt as if my word has kept me sane in this world of endless uncertainty, and when I say that those responsible will reap what they sow — I absolutely mean it. Even if you weren’t single-handedly responsible for the despicable events that transpired that unfortunate evening, deciding to align yourself with the cause of chaos can’t be helping matters. It’s rather doing the complete opposite, as the two of you are still guilty by association, and whether you would like to admit or not, Bishop’s blood still stains your hands. Nonetheless, that’s not even the worst of it in all honesty — when looking back at the blood splattered for an intended purpose, and more specifically, at Bishop’s expense — you’d expect a certain criteria to be met for these individuals that can only be described as “assassins.” However, I must have been sorely mistaken, because when I look at someone like Jack Daito, an individual who’s stench of fear can be whiffed from miles away, why should I be shocked in the slightest? While I’m quite new to to the OWA scene, that doesn’t mean that I’m ignorant to the rich history that it’s provided it’s viewers over the ears, and that includes the history you’ve provided OWA over the past calendar year — but I wouldn’t say it’s one to be described as rich. You’ve chosen to align yourself with an assassin with no remorse, who’s loss of everything they held dear drove them insane, but you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?

You’re pathetic.

The last time you attempted to lead a unit onto the battlefield, your attempts weren’t all that valuable in the long run — and instead of carrying Golden Dawn into a new era after a triumphant victory, you allowed the battlefield to be covered in red paint. For someone who seems to be confident enough to participate in Guerilla Warfare for a wrongful purpose, you seem to fail to realize how much you truly matter in the grand scheme of things — and it’s very little. You’ve failed to make a true impact for the past two seasons, and the only reason you’ve aligned yourself with the enemy is purely out of spite. You remember, don't you? Micheal Bishop humiliated you over and over again, leaving you to question what may lie ahead in your uncertain future. Unfortunately for you, when you allow yourself to be slaughtered out in the open, there’s only so much you can do to recover from your past failures. And I fully believe you were aware of this fact ahead of time, and that’s why the plan of discarding Bishop pleased you so much, which ultimately makes you incredibly weak.

Please don’t kid yourself Daito, while you may believe in your own abilities — Arata only sees you as an inevitable casualty to their relentless attempts to exterminate their greatest threat, and it’s about time you comprehend the role you’re destined to play in this Sunday’s bout. You’re a sacrifice. For the past calendar year, you’ve failed to ensure that your promises are kept, and come this Sunday evening, yet another one will shatter into a million pieces once Golden Dawn falls once again, and once blood completely covers all three of you — you’ll know for certain that you fucked up.

You’re the least of my worries, Daito. However, I won’t allow myself to let my allies down, not like you did…

I can’t stress this enough, I’m stepping in to aid The Mafia for one sole reason — to make good on my promise, to never forget where I came from to begin with. It doesn’t matter one bit that I didn’t personally know Bishop. However, I do know for certain that if I were in a similar position — I’d like to imagine that Bishop would do the same for me. And simply imagining is good enough for me, and I’ll do whatever it takes to return the favor, to ensure that Bishop returning to this world could one day be a possibility. Nonetheless, for some of you it isn’t about playing out a personal vendetta, nor is it about standing up for your own beliefs in a purposeful manner. For some it’s all about reaching a level that they never were supposed to reach in the first place, you need to return to the real world, Raivo.

You may have held the Spartans Championship for a bit of time, but that’s no longer something that’s spoken highly of — and that’s undoubtedly on you. You carried the strap into OWA’s biggest event of the entire year, and when it truly mattered to walk out with your head held up high — you failed to achieve this. So why would it be any different this time around? You see, you walked into Final Destination IV with a considerable amount of momentum, but you let it all slip through your fingertips, and Jason Long exposed you for what we all know you to be — an individual unable to carry a brand of his own. It’s quite clear that you're only doing this to capture yet another championship, and I’m not going to allow you to ruin the legacy of yet another OWA title, especially not the OWA World Championship. Along with that, you're attempting to destroy Bishop’s legacy even more, and I won’t be a part of that.

So where does this leave you? While your attempts to aid the inaccurate side in this inevitable bloodbath only continues to showcase your ignorance, we all know it’s not even about picking sides for you, it’s simply about circumstance. With Bishop now gone for the time being, this has now opened the door wide open for you to finally redeem yourself — for your defeat at Final Destination IV to be forgotten, and overcoming those that have admittedly supported the individual who had held the crown you currently desire — it’s all so perfect. However, while some roads lead to gold, you’re certainly taking the wrong one.

I’ve saved the worst for last, and that’s exactly what you are — Arata Asakura. Any human being is capable of losing focus of their ultimate goal, and slipping up due to their own incompetence, but they are also capable of simply moving on afterwards. However, as for you? You aren’t able to accept your own failure, as it only continues to eat away on your mind — until you completely snap. Not only are you absolutely psychotic, but your inability to operate like a functioning human being is pathetic. You weren’t good enough to walk out of Final Destination IV, and that’s because you lost to the better man — you weren’t good enough. But you couldn’t deal with living with this fact, and instead of growing from the failure, you decided to kill the individual who wrecked the plans you had put into play. You’re a monster.

I don’t feel pity for you, but I do feel hatred.

I know you perfectly remember your first World Championship within this industry, how empowering it felt in that very moment, and how the blood, sweat, and tears you put into this great sport was all worth it, simply just for a ten pound strap! It’s been years since you shared that specific moment, and your jealous nature has finally begun to come out from the shadows. After five long years of sacrifice for his well-being, he finally captured the prize he had been chasing after, and you took that all away in order to make your route to resurgence an easier one to follow, and that’s even more pathetic. You tried to strengthen your legacy by once again becoming OWA World Heavyweight Champion, but it’s already over at this rate.

If I can’t bring you to justice, then Bishop’s death was for nothing.

I may be seen as an unwanted entity in all of this chaos to you, and that aligning with a champion that I vowed to dethrone may be in poor taste — but I can assure you it’s not. We all see through your bullshit, whether we’re complete strangers to one another or not, we want to ensure that Micheal Bishop isn’t forgotten, that his legacy lives on forever — and the only way we’ll be able to accomplish this feat is to completely destroy you. Do you understand the effect your actions have had on this world? You took a father from his family all because of a goddamn championship, and expected no consequences in return. Well guess what? No more running, no more weaseling, it’s time for you to face them.

Alyssa Grace, DT The Ruler and Tyler Kulina have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos July 20th 2022, 1:42 pm by **DarkCircle**

{The screen starts off black as pitch before it slowly starts to fade into a shot of Yuna Kurosawa herself sitting against a dark gray wall in a building somewhere, obviously taking a break from training form the dark gray workout gear that she's wearing, looking somewhat exhausted yet accomplished}

Yuna: The first thing that I want to say is that I'm sorry to you, Devi. I'm actually sorry that I beat you and that's not "pity" or "arrogance" speaking but something else entirely because if anyone understands what you're going through, then it's me.

You see Devi, I actually respect you and I mean that honestly and I was hoping that if I got you good and properly pissed off then maybe that could help you start getting back on the right track to recapture your former glory because you're just like me in that you are a serious wrestler stuck having the very company put those unworthy of being in the same ring with you before those with actual talent.

Such as those pathetic little "Barbies" that fell off of the short fucking bus from a certain little dumpster fire promotion up north or those who love to claim that they are superior when in fact they are our *inferiors*...

I tried to get you good and pissed off, hoping that not only would you give me the fight for the ages, which you *DID*, but you would also be able to reach out and yank that victory out of my hands and claim it for your very...own....

{Yuna then runs her hands tiredly over her face for a moment before looking at the camera again}

Yuna: But that's not what happened, now is it? I spiked you and shattered those hopes of helping a fellow *wrestler* prove why people like us should be on top as opposed to *fake* little *flowers* such as Felix Hartley or Remi Skyfire.

Speaking of which...you and I have a brutal dance of destiny ahead of us, Miss Skyfire, now don't we?

This week on Odyssey, it's going to be myself and the young Izumi Takeda against the likes of you with another talentless no-named little *bitch* in Ruri Kuzunoha.

Oh, and don't think that I've forgotten about you, Ruri, as the time for me to take you on again and twist that fucking little head of yours's off your pencil-neck and offer your head up to La Llorna as proof of your unworthiness to even *exist* in such a promotion like this one...but at this week's edition of Odyssey it's going to be a tag team affair and while I'm going to be working alongside this rookie to our sport, I hope that the little firecracker doesn't explode too quickly during this tag team match or otherwise it'll all over before one could get to the real blood and guts of the match!

But you, Little Izumi, I do hope that you're ready for this because in a match against two of these..."wrestlers" like Remi and Ruri, you have to keep your wits all about you otherwise that'll take the greatest of cheap shots and then it'll be all over but your crying and so freaking help me if you're the one who costs me this match, rookie, I'll help explain things to you on how to improve your wrestling abilities the hard way because I did not come all this way to freaking *INDONESIA* to loose this qualifier for the new Women's Tag Team titles, Izumi, so you'd best bring your best A game for this fight, kiddo.

So, Ruri and Remi, I want you to both bring your best because in the end, it's not going to be enough because I will advance in this little tournament to crown the very first OWA Women's Tag Team champions...even if I have to tear the both of you down *myself*!

{The screen then fades to black}

Alyssa Grace has spoken. It’s such good shit!

LK Promo #1 for Odyssey July 20th 2022, 8:41 am by **Big_Baker_Brand**

“Cold, cruel fuckin’ world.

That’s the reality the two of you face going into this bout, isn’t it? Me and Alyssa, we’re at the top of our game. The Power of Incredible Violence is pounding its way through each and every obstacle in our way, and we’re not showing any signs of stopping yet-why would we? We’re new blood, we’ve opted to step away from singular, individualized focuses for the moment and go for the fucking gold while there’s gold to be gotten. We’re of like minds, similar brains, patterns of thinking that lend to the most complete deconstruction, the piece-by-piece reduction of any opponent that we come across in the ring. We are kindred fucking spirits, you know? Alyssa and I, we didn’t associate too much before the team started, but when it did we were surprised we hadn’t done it sooner seeing how well we fucking clicked. APEX and Strong Style Wrestling fell to us already, handed off tag team championships from the shoulders of legends where they were growing quite a bit stale, and the next place to look is somewhere that’s taken so much from us while giving so little in return.

The truth of that, too, is that you all at home-and you across the ring-you’re witnessing something biblical.

It is rare that a pairing like us finds the success that we have so early on without any hangup,s without any delays, without any fucking roadblocks. We’ve taken hits and nearly taken losses, of course, but that doesn’t matter worth a fucking fuck. We’ve got momentum on our side, we’ve got a downward slant that’s barreling through every bit of offense in our way, and we have not yet found any obstacle, any roadblock, any deficit that will keep us from reigning high above our enemies, standing at the precipice of this industry, being the best tag team in the fucking world.

The two of you-BIANCA, Ellie-you won’t stop that, either.

I have to say, though-I’m a little surprised that Odyssey’s general managers found it cute and safe to pair BIANCA off with someone else to face off against us. It’s not like the partnership that the three of us hold is off the radar, after all-we travel together frequently, we fuck up opponents together frequently. We stole the name and logo off one of your most loved factions as a unit, and we intend to keep our partnership going stronger and stronger with each and every passing day. I know that this seems like it might slow that a bit, but I assure you-it fuckin’ won’t.

Ain’t that right, BIANCA?

I know you and Alyssa are tighter than the two of us are, individually, but I see no reason why we need to have beef with one another. I may feel a little slighted at the lack of travels I’ve been invited to, but it’s fine, really, because I know at the end of the day we’re all on the same side, we’re all fighting for the same fuckin’ thing. You took this opportunity with Ellie because there’s only two to a tag team, and I can’t fault you for that, right? I can’t cut you short because you want a chance at gold, and we didn’t know that we were gonna be paired off for a qualifier. I honestly thought that Llorona and Oasis would’ve liked to make a bit more money, y’know, save our fight for the biggest screen and keep our matchups off ‘til then, but we have to do it now. Guess they need some real meat to pad out the filler of a bra-and-panties match.

Nevertheless, you stand before us now, and unfortunately, despite all of that we’ll be handing you a one-way ticket back to the stands to watch us as we move forward in this tournament, wrap our hands around the OWA Women’s Tag Team Championships and add them to the already pearlescent and growing Violence Double Crown. SSW and APEX were kind enough to be the first two additions, but these championships can easily be a third, especially considering that Jeff and Chris are nowhere to be found to defend their belts against us. Truly, BIANCA, even if we were opposed to one another, would you really want to take a chance and come at us hard? You’re not even formally part of a fucking tag team, let alone one with a great deal of championship gold behind it. I’ll put it clearly and lay it out-you might be top tier, a woman I respect, but you don’t have the fucking nuts or guts to step to us right now, and that’s not a secret. Every single fucking person in that locker room and watching from home knows that. You can’t hang with me and Alyssa in the ring, which is why you hang with us outside of it.

And at the end of the day…even if we beat you here, you’re still a member of the team. You can still come hang at ringside and save our asses when we finally win these belts. You can still be around us as much as you’d damn well please, you just can’t have our fucking spot in this match. Do you get that? Do you understand? I’d love for this to be a six-woman tag, but unfortunately, life just ain’t working like that right now!

And them’s the fucking breaks.

Besides, do you really want to make it to the championship match with someone like Ellie Quinn? Antisocial ruinous fucking outcast with a penchant for bad mannerisms and tanking companies like Kingdom Pro, Ellie’d be more obsessed with whatever girl she’s eating out next than facing off against us in this bout. She’s had an impressive showing so far, I guess, so props to her there, but she’s not someone you want at your side when you’re pining for inaugural championships. Hell, she’s not really even fucking tag team material. She’s been a loner her whole career save for a brief little interlude when she and my ol’ mentor were stabbing dudes in the face with that emo fuck over on Olympus, but nothing about her screams team player-her moniker and namesake included! You can’t possibly expect her to have your back, can you?

I can’t, Ellie. Because I can’t even expect you to hold up your end of the bargain whenever you get in the ring. Opportunity after opportunity, company across company, you’ve been successful in the ring but it’s all lead to nothing. You’ve got a hell of a reputation as a singles competitor with absolutely naught to show for it considering that every single place that you’ve found success in has shuttered shortly thereafter. On top of that, you don’t have a tag team background! What, is the fucking Killjoy Club gonna appear and win this bout for you and BIANCA? Are you gonna call in a favor from Laz to come bail you out when the going gets tough?

I fucking doubt it.

Comparatively, you and I are similar, and we’ve been similar places. The key difference is that I give a shit about the product I put out in the ring. I may not be the best brawler, but I am the most violent, and I am a more polished technical product than you or any of the gang you used to hang with could ever be. You, on the other hand, stumble through life time after time, seeking opportunity as it comes and taking whatever morsel you can find before you walk straight on into the fucking hornet’s nest-you are here now.

I’m not going to push punitively against either of y’all because I believe that part of this industry is finding the roadblocks in your way and trying to push against them, but when reality kicks in I think you’ll realize how quite fucked-to-rights you actually are. There is no way out of this match that doesn’t involve Grace and I taking what is fucking ours.

And we will get ours.

Both of us have been busting our asses, getting nearly-there to the grandest peaks in this company’s lexicon for the past fucking year with almost nothing to show for it. We hit rock bottom quite a few times only to keep bouncing back. Recently, when we were both at our fucking lowest, we had a hand to one another to pull us out of the void and back into competition, it’s worked far better than fucking expected. We are dripping with gold, at the top of our fucking game as tag team competitors or singles wrestlers, and we are not stopping yet. Jeff and Chris may’ve fucked off and OWA management may have tossed these belts out as a consolation prize for anyone willing to fight like hell for them, but I assure you-it is destiny that we get our hands on these championships, it is meant to be, and we will fucking rise up to meet it.

We aren’t taking half measures, not any-fucking-more.

When y’all come to the ring this coming Odyssey, you better come correct or not at fucking all. We’re not playing games anymore, nor have we ever, and we’re not about to start with the likes of the two of you. Bring your fucking fighting shoes, because we’re going to tear that fucking house down and leave you buried in the ruins if you can’t fucking keep up.

All roads lead to gold…and for you, unfortunately, this road just happens to lead through us.

Bad luck.”

Zumi, Alyssa Grace and DT The Ruler have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos July 20th 2022, 12:19 am by **Stark**

NAMI

OWA Promos - Page 3 Dalem+Jiwo+Suite+rotunda_High+Res_1163

Amanjiwo - a five star luxury resort in Java, Indonesia. Perhaps one last chance to enjoy the good life that NAMI has gotten used to living as the OWA Goddesses Champion. The extra money, the favors people will do for her with this new status, and the prestige that comes with being among the top performers of her sport. NAMI sits on the settee overlooking the forest behind her enclave. She looks deep in thought, unusually so compared to her normal demeanor. NAMI finally comes to and lets out a sigh, reaching over to grab her Goddesses Championship and pull it over towards her.

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OWA Promos - Page 3 3099096-6105242967-c1bdc

Her bodyguard and best friend, Oni Ushii, walks into the frame holding two cocktails. Ushii hands one to NAMI and sits down next to her, staring out towards the forest as well.

Oni Ushii: This is a beautiful view.

NAMI: Yeah, it is. I could stare at it forever, and it's great to be here, but...

Oni Ushii: You can't enjoy yourself. I know. You need to learn how to relax. You've worked as hard as you can to get here. There's no point killing yourself in the gym for any more than you have to. We're here because this is just as an important part of your training as any other. If you walk into that match tense or doubt yourself, you'll lose. Without any question, you'll lose.

NAMI: Wow thanks, that's good to hear.

Oni Ushii: It's what you need to hear. You're busy stressing and fretting about this match for what? Lost deep in thought staring into the woods like an idiot when you could be over in the hot tub enjoying yourself and getting drunk. You're at the top of your game, you've defended that Goddesses Championship everyone that's gotten in your way and that includes at Final Destination, in your home town of Japan - do you understand how big of an achievement that is?

NAMI: I know but that doesn't mean I can just stop working. I need to do this every day. I didn't get to this point in my career without working as hard as I can every single day. During that losing streak when everyone was telling me to give up and go home, when everyone was telling me that hard work and a no-quit attitude wasn't enough to take me to the top, when everyone was telling me that I'd never be able to win a single match... That's when I found myself. I found myself in the merit that comes from building an empire with your own hands. The crown I wear, I forged myself. There's no one in this world I can thank for it other than you and anyone else who never gave up on me, who always supported me even when I wasn't worth supporting. That goes back to the old days too. When I was just a disgraced idol living on the streets, you made sure I stayed safe. And now with your help and my hard work, we've literally gone from the streets to the suites. So fine, if you ask me, I will drink. But this drink is for you.

NAMI takes the drink from Oni Ushii and holds it up. Ushii just shakes her head and laughs, then raises her drink as well.

Oni Ushii: No, you fool. This drink is for your reign. It's not going to end anytime soon, so stop worrying and try to cool down. Let's drink.

The two clink their drinks and down them.

NAMI: Alright fine, I'll admit it. I was tense. You've helped loosen the nerves. You're right. There's nothing more I can do at this point than to wait for Saturday before I come face to face with the legitimately toughest opponent I've ever had to fight. This isn't Revy and her bag of tricks, this is one of the women who made her name off of this very championship that I hold now, a woman who was on the track to win the OWA Women's World Championship, a woman who can beat anyone on any day on this roster... Rebecca Brookes. It's about time we met.

Oni Ushii: Don't be scared of her. She is indeed one of the best but that doesn't mean anything - you have to rise to her level and then rise even further, surpass her and walk out of Jakarta with your Goddesses Championship.

NAMI: I'm not scared of her, and that's exactly my plan. Rebecca, I've wanted to step into the ring with you for a very long time. When I was a mere footnote on this brand, performing at the level of a rookie enhancement talent, you were tearing up the scene and putting a hammer in the wall of the established order. It seemed at one time that you were the biggest threat to Cloud Matsuda's World Championship reign. Then it seemed like when I was on the cusp of finally breaking through, competing in the Openweight Championship match at Hardcore Havoc and proving to every woman on this brand that I did indeed belong, you were in the main event of night one, coming within a fraction of a second of winning the Women's World Championship. For one second, for one single second in the grand scheme of things, our paths intersected. Our fates crossed as we were both on the edge of fulfilling our destinies. But when the time came at Civil War for both of us to measure up to the expectations we'd created for ourselves at Hardcore Havoc - I succeeded. I captured the OWA Goddesses Championship and since that day I have defended it, decisively and proudly, against any woman who's decided to challenge me. What did you do the night of Civil War, Rebecca? Oh right... You were part of one of the most pathetic choke jobs that this brand, no, this industry, has ever seen. The way Team Aria failed was spectacular and the core of it, Rebecca, was you. There was no on else on that team you could blame because you had shown the month before at Hardcore Havoc that you were on that top level... or so we thought. Instead you showed that it was just a fluke. That your one miracle night against Cloud could not be topped. You failed at Civil War, then you were suspended from the brand, and that's the last we saw of you. And while you were sitting at home looking pretty for your Instagram thirst pics, I was here putting in the work, fighting women like Remi Skyfire, Ruri Kuzunoha, Daisy Thrash, and Revy. Racking up the defenses as I barrell my way towards every record of this Goddesses Championship. Most defenses, most days, you understand me, Rebecca? I'm not just aiming to be a good Goddesses Champion, I want to be the BEST. To put my name in the annals of history. To be better than Alyssa Grace, Rebecca Brookes, Dulce Torres - all of the great names that have held this championship before me. There's not a single person I'm scared of facing on this brand, especially not you.

Oni Ushii: That's the kind of confidence you need to have.

NAMI: Of course. The more I think about it, why WOULDN'T I be this confident? What is there to fear? It's easy to look tough when you pick your time to return against Cloud when she's announcing her retirement. That's a reaaaal good look Rebecca. You could've forced your way back on Odyssey at any point you wanted, let's be real. You really let Llorona suspend you and you just took that? I'm sorry, I don't really believe in this whole idea that you need to worship the stars that people are all high on. I know you had all the hype in the world behind you Rebecca. The people wanted you to succeed, Aria Jaxon wanted you to succeed, you were good for business - a marketable star who had the skill to match the expectations. You were the only one on this roster who did what no one before you could for over two hundred and fifty eight days - you ended Alyssa Grace's record-setting Goddesses Championship reign and went on a run that damn near outdid hers. You see, there's one thing you don't realize... Tell her, Ushii.

Oni Ushii: Your run has already been outdone by NAMI's.

NAMI: That's right. As of tonight, I have now officially held this championship for over TWO-HUNDRED days, with four defenses... I've long since defended this title more times than you have, and I'm just two days away from breaking the length of your reign as well. You may look at this and tell me that these numbers don't matter, that you're as good as you actually are, regardless of what it looks like on paper. I'll tell you what this really means, Rebecca... It means that the tide has changed. Those expectations that were once on you to reach the top of the mountain and become the Ace of Odyssey, the chosen woman to dethrone a legend like Cloud Matsuda... Don't worry anymore Rebecca. That burden is no longer on your shoulders. After more than half a year of being gone from OWA after suffering such an embarrassing defeat like you did at Civil War, there are no more expectations on you. Your return was a nice little viral moment, maybe it'll be nominated for an award and all that jazz, but that's about it. The days where you were once considered one of the top women on this brand are long gone.

NAMI picks up the Goddesses Championship and holds it up to the camera, her face looking more intense than it has since she began speaking.

NAMI: That status is now mine. The prestige of being the greatest Goddesses Champion will belong to me. Your destiny of reaching the top of Odyssey is now mine to claim. Everything that once belonged to you, that ball you dropped... I picked it up, and I will carry it to the end zone, I will not fumble like you did, I will not allow myself to fail - I spent too long at the bottom to ever go down there again. There was once a time that you could look down on the women who stood in your way and tell them that they don't belong with you.

NAMI chuckles and puts the title down.

NAMI: That time is now mine. Rebecca, as much as I may have once respected you or admired you, those days are gone. All I see now is a fallen star with a broken wing trying to take flight again. I am NOT going to be your launchpad. You don't get to walk back into Odyssey after being gone for an entire half of a season, not when the last thing of note you did was throw Aria Jaxon's reign as General Manager out the window and alongside the other pictures of mediocrity like Serena Barrett and Revy help plunge Odyssey into a state of chaos and disarray under the managership of Llorona. And while Llorona has pressed her foot onto the neck of everyone on this brand, I have been here each and every week, laying each brick myself as I build the foundation of my legacy, the one that could've been yours if you didn't walk away when the time was yours, when you choose to bend the knee to Llorona instead of fight back. I will become the greatest Goddesses Champion of all time, the top woman on Odyssey, and before you know it I will achieve the feat that you never could and never will... The Women's World Championship.

NAMI stands up.

NAMI: I've still got two days of this vacation to enjoy before I come and step into the ring with you, Brookes. But don't you think for a second that in a mere two weeks you can catch up with everything I've done since I've become champion. This is my house now, my yard, I'm the top dog, and if you dare think you can take away any of the things that are rightfully mine, you'll end up being sent running with your tail tucked between your legs, wishing that you NEVER came back to fight for the Goddesses Championship in MY era.

NAMI gestures towards the bar at Oni Ushii and waves at the camera as she walks off. Ushii picks up the Goddesses Championship for NAMI and walks in her direction as the video comes to an end.

Alyssa Grace, DT The Ruler, Lazarus Arjen and Chad Ecclestone have spoken. It’s such good shit!

hoes make history // odyssey oo1 July 19th 2022, 10:22 pm by **Rebecca Filth**

“Most people don't realize that they’re witnessing history until it’s too late. You find yourself on the wrong side of history but you don’t see it until years later. When you stand around and discuss the events of the past with friends and family. When you talk about where you were when defining moments happened around you. What were you doing when history was forever altered?

But I am not a bystander. I don’t watch as the world shifts beneath my feet. I make it happen. I create history defining moments and forever change the world in front of us.

At Final Destination I changed Odyssey forever. I made history in OWA. I made history when I capped off the most iconic rookie year in OWA by winning not one, but TWO world championships in a single Final Destination. First person to do that. When I became the woman that will FOREVER be known as the Undisputed Whore. I unified the titles that women around me would die for. History made.

Years from now, they will ask ‘Where were you when Rebecca Filth ran through the Odyssey roster?’

‘Where were you when Rebecca Filth defied all the odds and unified the Women’s World Championship and the Omega Heavyweight Championship?’

Main character energy, cunts. You could never.

And now that Odyssey is in the palm of my fucking hand, you’re delirious if you think that I’m done making history. Ashley died for me to make history in Saudi Arabia. The least I can do is respect her memory by continuing to forever change the game and mould Odyssey in my vision.

Live Sex Celebration? Never done before. Even if it was so rudely interrupted by the ultimate cockblock in The Banshee. And now I bring the pinnacle of women’s wrestling back to the forefront. When I main event Odyssey and put my title on the line in a coveted match. A match that the fans will be on their fucking feet for. A match that will make everyone in the stands and watching at home weak in the knees and wet in the pants.

A motherfucking bra and panties match.

My mind! You’re all welcome!

And that includes you Angelina. You’re welcome for making you relevant. Because if this was a standard match, no one would remember the girl who Rebecca Filth put down in her first defense. You would just be a blip on my VERY long reign. But lucky for you, everyone will remember the woman who she stripped down in the ring and humiliated in Odyssey's first bra and panties match. Everyone will remember your bare naked ass and the look of defeat spread across your face. You can have your little taste of history. And you should cherish it. Because as long as I’m at the top of the roster, there’s no place for you.

People look at us and they see that we’re both sexual and hot. We aren’t afraid to flaunt our bodies or use them to get ahead. But we are not the same. You’re all smoke, mirrors and lip service. You play the game that you know the people want to hear. But when it comes time to get down and dirty? You run scared. We all saw it on Odyssey. I was ready to get railed by decaying dick. And you ran like a little bitch. Because you may flaunt the goods. You may spend hours in the gym. But you have fears. You have hopes and dreams. You have a reputation to uphold. You have a line you can’t and won’t cross. You were born with a silver spoon in your mouth and haven’t had to fight for anything in your perfect little life. But me? I fought and clawed my way up this roster. I spent my teen years with gravel in my knees and cum on my breath while you vacationed in the Maldives. You think you’re like me but really, you’re like everyone else I’ve beaten the shit out of on this roster. Catapulted to the front of the line. Given the easy road because you have the look and the right amount of sex appeal. Just enough. But not too much.

I mean that's how you got this match, isn’t it? Lost the chance to fight for my original belt on this brand. So Oasis put you in a glorified gameshow and pushed you to the front of the line. I know my rookie year was inspiring. I know you saw how quickly I was able to destroy and disassemble this roster. My ascension to the top was unmatched. And you thought you could one up me, right? You thought you could push your way to the front of the line and take my fucking shine?

But you don’t have what it takes to rip this belt from my fucking grasp. Your rookie year will not look anything like mine.

That’s why I gifted you with this bra and panties match. Not because I’m afraid to face you in a standard match. But because I wanted to give you a chance. We all know in a standard match you’d flounder. Have you seen what I’m fucking capable of? I retired Cloud Matsuda. I beat EVERY SINGLE fave on this roster at Final Destination. I sent Alyssa Grace into a spiral. She literally made a tag team with the other woman that I took a belt from because she’s too afraid to step to me again and lose. Her ego couldn’t take it. In that ring I am unstoppable. No one has been able to pin me for over a fucking year, Angelina. Do you really think anyone thought the girl with not a single win under her belt would be the one to dethrone me? Hahahah stop. You’re more delusional than April.

You’ve had one actual match in this company and you lost. You lost the chance to fight for the low level belt on this roster and you think you actually have a shot to beat me for the WORLD title?! Please. A cunt with your record stepping up against the hottest sensation Odyssey has ever seen? Everyone had already checked out. You’re outmatched. The world knew it. But I was feeling generous. I was in the mood Angie. So I decided to give you a fucking gift and a chance. I made it so that people actually wanted to watch you get your ass beat. I made your title match worthwhile.

I am nothing if not a generous lover.

I always ensure that the fans are left titillated and excited. So I gifted you a fighting chance. And I gifted them a match they’ve always wanted. Unfortunately for them, they won’t get to see me stripped down to my skivvies. They’ll have to pay for my OnlyFans for that privilege. But they will get to watch your hopes and dreams get dashed in that ring when I rip your clothes off and show you the time of your fucking life. When I bring you to the climax of your career. Main eventing with Rebecca Filth is a dream most women in the back would kill for. So don’t you go squandering it. Savour it. Savour every moment. Every touch. Until suddenly, it’s all over and you’re left naked and ashamed in the corner. Used up. Like so many men have left you before.

I know you look at me and you see stars in your eyes. You see superstardom. How fucking rich that just a few weeks ago women laughed at my existence. They told me I didn’t belong at the top. Now you see the chance to make your career off the back of mine. But sorry, bitch. That isn’t your future. Now that I’m standing at the top of the mountain I’ll be damned if I let some over processed plastic bitch knock me off the top. No. The people deserve the debauchery that a Rebecca Filth reign brings. They deserve my natural flawless body on their screens week in and week out. They deserve to see the undisputed whore in all her glory!

You? You may have the sex appeal and the looks. But you don’t have my unbridled rage. You may not have the drive and the passion that every woman that I’ve cherished destroying has had. I do love to crush dreams. But you know what you do have? The ego. A big fat ego that I know will crumble when you’re faced with your ultimate demise. What will Hollywood think when their shining star can’t actually match up to what she’s supposed to play? How will they feel when you fall at the feet of a lowly whore? You wanna be a method actor? You wanna know what it’s like to suffer? Baby I’ll put you in so much fucking pain that you’ll have no choice but to be downing Vicodin like it’s candy. You wanna feel what The Ram felt? I’ll give you pain. In that ring this week I’ll give you the kind of pain that my subscribers have to pay extra for. But for you Angie? It’s my gift.

I want to ravage your body. I want to ravage your soul. I want to not just take away your wrestling career. But I want to ruin your Hollywood career too. I want to humiliate you to such an extent that mommy and daddy’s connections won’t save you. All you’ll have is that pretty face and a pill problem.

This isn’t going to be your crowning glory. This is going to be your downfall. This will be the moment that Angelina Magnum is exposed for the world to see. And I don’t just mean your hot bod. I will strip you down just like I did on Odyssey and this time, I won’t be concerned with your pleasure. You will be my example. To EVERYONE in the back. That no one is capable of stepping to Rebecca Filth. I’m talking to you too, Banshee. Keep a close eye on this match. Because I am going to show that none of you cunts are on my level.

This week it's all about ME. Like I’ve said, I’m building a legacy. And the foundation is strong. My Kingdom of Filth is fully formed. And you will just be a fucking appetizer in my reign. Listen to me very clearly. You don’t stand a chance. Inside that ring you have proven you can’t do shit. Can't even win a match. Won’t be able to win a bra and panties match either. Not when I’m the one on the other side. I am the undisputed whore. I did the fucking unthinkable at Final Destination. I beat the legends. I beat the new class. I stood at the top of the mountain and EVERYONE was forced to accept that I am the domme of this fucking brand. I am the face of Odyssey. And I’ve just begun. You have nothing on me. No one does. I am fucking UNTOUCHABLE. Unpinned. Undefeated. UNDISPUTED.

And you? You are simply the first step on a long road. You thought my Openweight reign was impressive? You heard Natalie Cage last week. I am the future of this brand. She passed the torch to ME. She sees what the rest of you refuse to acknowledge. And I see another piece of history to claim. A title reign longer than hers. I AM ODYSSEY. I have ushered in a new era and I will relish in standing at the top and kicking down every dumb cunt that dares grace my doorstep.

What makes you think you’re special Angelina? Those fake tits will only get me so wet and will only take you so far.

Years down the line people will ask ‘Where were you when Rebecca Filth revolutionized women’s wrestling and brought back the bra and panties match?’

And you will be a forgotten memory.”

Jeff X, Alyssa Grace, DT The Ruler, Lazarus Arjen, Angelina Magnum and Tyler Kulina have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos July 18th 2022, 11:30 am by **Violet Cunningham**

The Box

She laid on the concrete floor, absent-mindedly playing with the puzzle box.

Two days earlier, a ritual had been undertaken. Two days earlier, magic had writhed and coiled, invisible to the naked eye, it hung thick in the air, permeating the room in which they sat. A metaphysical bond was established between them, one that would only serve to further their in-ring dynamic. After all was said and done, the training continued, as it had done since they decided to work together. At this very moment, however, something else was happening.

Violet Cunningham was in the garage, among her things. Her few possessions that weren’t gym equipment mostly packed in boxes in a corner. Her motorcycle gleamed under the fluorescent lights, sitting just off the center of the sparse room. Violet had been going through her things, looking for something, and it appears she found it.

She laid on the concrete floor, absent-mindedly playing with the puzzle box. It wasn’t very big, but it was eye-catching. A brass cube, with arcane symbols etched across every surface, an intricate creation filled with complex contraptions, all designed to ensnare a user. Whoever its creator was had constructed the box so that opening it tripped a musical mechanism, which began to tinkle a short rondo of sublime banality. Each segment solved added a new layer to the tune, beckoning the player onwards until the puzzle is solved. At its solution, a mournful bell is heard tolling, and the cube starts to reassemble itself.

But none of that mattered. The tune wouldn’t work on Violet - it’s why she was entrusted with the box. Whoever had made it, wherever it came from, it was cursed. Anybody who messed with the box was doomed. But not her. Not her kind. So it was given to her, the only half-breed vampire around, entrusted with something so small that carried so much weight. Keeping it away from people was her responsibility, and now it’s in a house full of volatile relics and a curious witch.

Fuck.

What would be the correct course of action? Telling Marie, warning her of the box and its properties, and therefore piquing her curiosity? Or does she keep it a secret, out of sight, praying it doesn’t call to her partner? The damn thing was a burden, a relic she wished she could cast into the deepest ocean, but it would come back. It always did, like that damn board game. So she had to watch it. Know where it was, at all times. Keep it secret, keep it safe. As she was instructed.

“I have to tell her.”

But where is the line drawn? She was bonded with Marie now, they were a team, and secrets between teammates would only lead to their mutual destruction. And yet, she hesitated.

“She’d understand, she’s got all kinds of weird shit around here. She could probably end the world by accident.”

Ah, but could she? Or is it just dusty tomes written in dead languages, meaningless now? Best to keep your burdens to yourself, lest you curse others with knowledge of the forbidden.

Violet frowned, turning the box slowly above her face, studying the markings. “These thoughts aren’t mine.” Then it hit her. Sitting up suddenly, she placed the box on the floor, scowling at it.

“Stop fucking with my head.” she snarled. The box just sat there, glinting in the light. She could feel it, almost looking at her, taunting her.

“Fuck yourself.” She threw the cube back into the mess of things she’d been sorting through, shaking the unwanted thoughts from her mind. Now was not the time to be dwelling on the supernatural. Now was the time to focus on her career, and the new trajectory it’s taken. She thought back to that night…

Seeing Felix Hartley walk out with that Openweight Title, Violet couldn’t even be upset. She didn’t take the pin, she was on her feet when the bell rang. Inches away from breaking it, but not fast enough. Now Hartley was fighting Marie Bouchard, who she’d previously defeated to reach the very match in which she won the belt. Bouchard, who had earned her shot through the BOB games, was not making it easy for Hartley. They went for each other, both fighting with seemingly everything they had. Marie with her impressive acrobatics, Felix with her vicious strikes, they were an impressive match up. But Violet had seen Felix up close, it was Marie she focused on.

Bouchard gave it her all, but she just couldn’t put Felix away. Hartley retained, and upon Marie’s return to the locker room, Violet made her move. She’d decided, they’d work together perfectly, similar backgrounds, complementary move-sets, plenty of room for an interesting dynamic. Time to go for different titles, since Daisy Thrash is number one contender for the Openweight.

Snapping back to the present, Violet stood, stretching her limbs. There was still stuff to go through, but for now, it could wait. She walked into the kitchen to brew herself a pot of coffee. They’d been testing moves and discussing strategies non-stop, and it only increased Violet’s confidence. Already they were collaborating well, and they hadn’t even debuted yet. All they had to do was keep the pressure up, get some momentum going, and those tag titles would be firmly within their grasp.

Of course, it wouldn’t be easy. There was competition at every turn, but each challenge would present them with the chance to improve their skills and tuck more victories under their belts. All of this was elementary, the basics at their simplest. Which begs the question - where are their opponents?

Violet left the coffee in the cafetiere, letting it brew, and walked to the front door. They were here, she knew they were here despite the silence. The mist had told her. Opening the door, she stepped outside, into the cool evening air, allowing the cameraman to start shooting. After her mic was clipped on, she stared at the sky, contemplating what she would say next. Turning to the camera, she spoke.

“Less than a week now,” she started, “That’s how long we have until Bad Meets Evil enters the ring. I’ve addressed our opponents already, and their silence speaks volumes.” She grabbed the camera, glaring into it. “So at this point, I haven’t got anything else to say,” she growled. Throwing both the camera and its holder to the ground, she walked back to the door. “Take that camera, and shove it up your ass. If they won’t talk, I have no intention of further wasting my breath.”

Slamming the door, she walked back into the kitchen. The coffee was poured, a mug set out for her. A more considerate partner there was not. But Marie was nowhere to be found.

Left alone with her thoughts once again, Violet sat at the table, warming her palms on the ceramic mug. Responsibility. Tag titles would be a big responsibility. The team itself already was one, both needing to put in the effort and dedication to not only make it work, but show others that they wanted it to work long-term.

They’d already shared a lot. They underwent a bonding ritual for goodness’ sake. Violet’s bike was parked in the garage, she’d set her gym and the practice ring up. So why was this damn box plaguing her?

“Fuck it, I’m telling her.”

Violet stood, leaving the mug untouched, setting off to find her tag partner. Once she knew, they could move on. They could put all that unimportant rubbish aside and focus on their goals. It was time for them to show the world what they were capable of. Time to change Odyssey, and conquer its newest division.

The shadows are closing in. Now is the time for Bad Meets Evil to rise.

Jeff X, Alyssa Grace, Daisy Thrash, DT The Ruler, marielacorriveau and Tyler Kulina have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos July 18th 2022, 9:59 am by **DT The Ruler**

I said what I said.

(*clap**clap**clap*)

(After his hands are shown in a slow clapping motion, DT The Ruler is shown from behind, sitting down in a chair, facing the courtyard of a secluded country house in the outskirts of Pyongyang, North Korea. His right leg could be briefly seen on a raised surface, being attended to by a masseuse while his knee was wrapped in medical tape)

Bravo, Mr. De Leon. Hurrah. Excellent showing. I applaud you and not sarcastically. Your efforts were appreciated towards assisting in the mission to return prestige to a Championship lost amidst the madness of Kingdom. The bravery and audacious nature of your actions in totality should carry on to your lesser opposition in the next battles. For The Ruler, just going “I told you so” is the bare minimum of what is to be expected as I invite any and everyone to confront myself for this very Championship I hold. One challenge is not enough; one aspiring future champion is not enough. One match does not and will not define The Ruler’s first championship reign in years. To restore this Outlaw Championship’s prestige, as well as continue to display to OWA what type of Champion is needed, I need more. Celebrating my first successful defense will not due, as I’ve seen many men and women lose track of the effort it took to reach the position of ‘Champion”. Like a great YouTube Societal Commentator and Pan-African Scam Artist once said, “We must stay focused brothers; we must stay focused.”

However…

Before speaking any further, I will address one additional thing in terms of business with the Kingdom brand. I was going to contain my thoughts a bit more, but I do not mind being a bit candid about this situation. I rather give my thoughts clearly before allowing some random Sports Analyst to pretend to be a mind reader, like they do with Kyrie Irving and Kevin Durant. So, Mr. Lance Hart, that nerdy commentator you all hear on Kingdom, well: he asked a five-hundred-dollar question: how does DT feel about my business associate Mr. Raivo’s actions towards the deceased body of one Mr. Michael Bishop? What does he have to say in regards to that man disrespecting his family face-to-face and spitting on that man’s face? Well now Mr. Raivo is taking what he feels is the next step towards the top in OWA, and I must say that boy has a lot more moxie in him than even I thought. The heartless amount of fortitude Mr. Raivo is putting on display in making his stance clear is more admirable than foolish, mostly extreme as opposed to honorable, but fitting, especially in an organization that rewards Habitual Line Stepping. Whatever personal matter Mr. Raivo has had with one Mr. Michael Bishop prior to his sudden death is all on him. Just looking what’s in store for him at the next edition of Kingdom in North Korea, if Mr. Raivo feels he can indeed Dance with the Devil that is Mr. Arata Asakura, alongside his little henchman in Mr. Jack Daito, to reach the Promise Land, so be it. Personally, I would rather move differently in order to stand even closer to the OWA World Championship, but I am going to trust Mr. Raivo in making a Chess move within this game of Risk he’s been playing. Since he is For The Minorities as he says, it’s fitting he sides alongside the Golden Yawn for a temporary business arrangement, but I will warn him of Arata and Daito, especially since I took a piece of Mr. Myojin’s ego at Final Destination Four, and despite the squabbling I saw with him and Mr. Arata, they are still a united front. I want Mr. Raivo to be especially careful, as I know while Arata may love to attempt to stand tall over everyone, he is very much a Japanese Nationalist and a Control Freak, and his goals greatly differ from my associate’s. Last time Mr. Raivo participated in a Warfare match, I was present and managed to dump one boy named Kyle on his head for the win. And If I have to go down to the ring and assure that Mr. Raivo gets a fair chance to do his opponents coming, especially that scoundrel Mr. Jason Long, I will go to there no problem. I still did not forget what boy did to even be in that Spartan Title match at Final Destination, and I would not mind evening the score with that little bitch.

But once again: we must stay focused, brothers. We must…stay focused.

(A secretary walks over to DT The Ruler in his chair and hands him notes on his next opponent; he then puts on his reading glasses and sees the name, quickly wincing at it in disgust)

DT The Ruler: Excuse me? What is this? Are you playing a joke here?

Secretary: No, sir. That actually is your opponent. I double-checked, even on the OWA.com site, sir. Tha-tha-that’s them.

DT The Ruler: *sigh* It’s fine. Go on…

(The secretary walked away from DT The Ruler in his chair as he waved her off, and he took a moment to glance at the few pages)

I need to make something clear, though.

With this match coming, being set up against another new arrival to the Omega Wrestling Alliance and the Kingdom brand, understand I am no gatekeeper. You see gatekeepers most of the time are ones you meet before you are deemed acceptable to walk through reality after many trials, the person you meet to administer the final tests in order to see how you size up before you can be placed against the wolves of the forest and the sharks in the water, or someone who decides whether or not you should be allowed in a community or gathering of other like-minded individuals. I am not the 35^th Chamber of Shaolin, nor am I some sloppy, Mountain Dew and Cheetos guzzling Comic Book Guy judging the scantily clad cosplayers for not knowing every noteworthy quote of the first three Star Wars movies.

I am the OWA Outlaw Champion, a focused one at that.

With another Outlaw Championship match comes another chance to add to the prestige lost. And while I should possibly feel insulted having to face another man debuting on Kingdom for the first time, I will suppress those feelings as best as possible. If this person comes with any modicum of the same type of vigorous energy and desire to win I noted in Mr. Alejandro De Leon as the match progressed, then the worth of my championship will continue to increase, and that’s a top priority. So, I skimmed the notes given to me by my secretary, and I must say: when I saw my opponent’s name, I thought I was experiencing a Bart prank-calling Moe’s Tavern moment. I was ready to fire that woman, truth be told, but then I remember what this business is. If I did judge books exclusively by their covers, I’d assume this random novice with a name like “Holden Tudics” was under the tutelage of notorious “wrestlers” with amazing names like Jynx Maze and Alexis Texas. But…I know better than to assume the lowest from the get-go. It’s strange, yes, but no stranger than something like Schwarzenegger, so we’ll roll with it. Thankfully, this man’s first match is in North Korea and not the United States, where immature, toilet humor still reigns supreme; the crowd would’ve probably laughed him out of the building.

But anyhow, Mr.….Holden…Tudics…

Mr. Holden, much like my previous opposition, in your very first opportunity to impress the OWA audience, you are placed in a Championship match, one you have not shown you belong in, one you have not once proven to be deserving of prior to the next edition of Kingdom. But one thing I was reminded of this chaotic organization is that regardless of experience level, skill level, and mass appeal, almost anyone worth a damn can be given a chance to stand above the majority and win Championship gold. Some trash seeps through the cracks, but they become easily forgotten. But for this Championship’s sake, congratulations! You are worth a damn to someone. However, like my first opponent since obtaining this Championship: if you have to see me, that’s not good news, Mr. Tudics.

It's perfectly set-up for you, Mr. Holden…Tudics, as I found out that not only are you new but you are from some random part of Arkansas. Last person of note from there off the dome was Bill Clinton, and sadly we saw how that went. But anyways, you’re pretty much in line with one of those American Idol contestants, appearing from one of those small towns that arrogant executives place under the title of “Bumfuck Middle Of Nowhere” and with a chance of a lifetime to demonstrate your worthiness. Perfect Disney-level storytelling, fun for the whole family. KIDS LOVE IT. However, Mr. Holden, I will remind you that I am no gatekeeper or test proctor, as I already operate within the realms of reality, a reality that this profession does not take kindly to those unprepared and inexperienced. In this profession, those giving you the opportunity at MY title and then watching won’t assess you directly like an overly-optimistic choreographer and a has-been Pop Singer will. You’re being thrown to a hungry lion without really being put through trials and that is pretty unfortunate. When you enter the ring and you see The Ruler, even the smallest weaknesses in your wrestling tactics will appear the same size as sinkholes once that bell rings, and I am not forgiving of weaknesses. And against The Ruler, there are no do-overs or timeouts for screw-ups. The only similarity you’ll have with that aspiring singer from parts barely known is that you’ll only have one chance to impress the North Korean crowd.

And that is the most I’ll allow of you.

From here, I can tell you more of what to expect when you enter the ring with a determined veteran and a man who knows what he’s doing when the match begins, a man who can adjust to conditions against his favor, with much more to lose than gain, and an absolute force against competition who gets too arrogant for their own good. But that’s just me cheating and slapping down some verbal copypasta from a little over a week ago. Truthfully, though, The Ruler welcomes a challenge of his abilities and repertoire, as that only improves my standing as champion in OWA, but the Burden of Proof is all on you to show out beyond the average beginner. Everything is on you, Mr. Holden Tudics, to show that you are indeed worth a damn. The ball is in your court for you to display your abilities against your Superior. I expect nothing less, as opportunities like this one you’re given, Mr. Holden, is not even something I gained. So, you have all the space to try; try really hard.

But I will still emerge as not only champion, but your Master and Ruler.

(DT The Ruler leaned back in his chair, continued reading the notes, and the camera faded to black)

Alyssa Grace, Chad Ecclestone and Tyler Kulina have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Cyka Promo #1 July 18th 2022, 6:03 am by **Michael Bishop**

This world is apathetic, many will stand by, others would simply seek to gain from the smoke and fire. Not me. I joined the army because I… wanted to save my country. I gave up my freedom, for Alfa Group. Baptized myself and became one of the best in the world… and fought in war after war that made me distrustful of my government, and disillusioned with the entire point. My reward for fighting with the flag on my shoulder, was being betrayed my own countrymen, a group like the Golden Dawn, and being forced onto a battlefield that claimed my name, my reputation… and my family, as casualties. It nearly took my life several times, many I wish I did… but, it led me to meet Michael Bishop. We almost killed each other when we first met.

I thought he was an assassin, he thought I was a hitman. We learned very quickly that we were back against the wall, under fire in the same trench against similar foes. Two men from different hemispheres, drastically different cloths, and yet cut with the same blade, forced into similar circumstances by the same shit world. The same evil that almost claimed his life… claimed the life of my family. We were joined in fire, and we were stronger standing together than we were alone.

Before the Ashes, before the Wolvesden, the Mafia was born in a conflict that most don’t remember, because most fighting now were children back then. It’s members? Brothers without a banner, soldiers without a flag, from all corners of the world regardless of origin, seeking to make their way, by any means necessary. Our enemies? The demon, the murderer, the shogun, the false king. Men who build their empires on the bodies of hundreds and go to sleep at night knowing they liquidated entire families just so they could get 10lbs of metal. Our Methods?

War;

When tensions have boiled and diplomacy between men has failed, they take to the part of us so ingrained in DNA, we have been doing it for the last 100,000 years. The methods change, but the reasons stay the same.

The reason for this war? The one that has raged on for 671 days? Greed. Isn’t that right, Arata? Isn’t that right?! You killed Michael Bishop because you could not have what you wanted. You were too fucking weak to win. Combat sports is the finest example of canvas survivalism and you failed to meet the cut!! You killed Mike; a father, a husband… the single greatest fighter ever, because even as the world revered you… you failed.

You had everything you needed to win. Men like Theodor made their way from their home country with nothing, and found major success. You? Nutritionists, trainers, every single asset your family could buy and it did nothing. You had an entourage of demented yes man, a god coursing through your veins- Raijin whispered sweet lies about you being the chosen one. It all meant nothing… because when you were handed all of the title opportunities in the world you failed time after time, one step at a time, as you walked yourself to rock bottom and slammed your putrid mug into the cement so many times, you were somehow convinced it was anyone’s fault but yours.

Tell me, Arata; How did privilege lose you the Spartan’s Championship, the God of War Tournament, the Clash of the Titans? It didn’t. The greatest lie you ever told was that this war was racially motivated. This entire war, every single death, was because Arata failed his spoon fed legacy over and over. You should be an icon, instead, you are a forgettable world champion on every single terrorist watchlist. A pathetic fuck up who should have stayed in Wrestleworld to be abused by Jacob Senn, at least then every innocent dead would still be alive!!

Do you still believe you are the good guy, Arata?! I walked the streets of places where your men and their blades spilt innocent blood. Where your lightning touched down and killed dozens, hundreds. The smell of the flesh, the fire and brimstone. The haunting image of a mother crying over the body of her child, burned into the street, the sulfuric smell of her flesh filling the air. That is your legacy. Arata Asakura started a war because he could not win and he burnt every bridge trying to cross the river, away from his own mediocrity, and fell into it. So like every tyrant, he mass murdered people and built a bridge of their bodies across the river. And when he did? We sent you back across that river, you fucking fascist!!!

You think I’m threatened, Arata?! The Yakuza?! The Golden dawn?! I have stared into the eyes of true believers who crept in dark caverns, went weeks without food, water, sleep, or a shower in the hopes of taking the lives of one of us. Feeding off of nothing, but pure belief in their fight, their right, their victory. We made them afraid. I made them afraid. Whoever wasn’t got their throat slit and the last thing they saw on the ground was me. True belief of men who fought for decades died on our muzzles, our blades, in our grasp. The Golden dawn has showed no fight, no strength, no will to win as dozens of your men line my personal scorecard of violence and proficiency as an operator.

Your men have ritualistically and routinely died enmasse when faced against the Mafia, Arata. You know this, it boils your blood every single time because we are the antithesis of everything you are, Michael Bishop embodied everything you tried and failed to be. And now you are locked into another conflict you cannot win. Like the Hardcore War, like the Ancient Way, You have come to die, and that’s just fine by me, because I do not need a fucking gun when it comes to ending the life of evil.

Unlike you I’ve fought since the day I was born, I was drilled into being one of the greatest soldiers this world had ever seen and even as I have long since expatriated from my country, I remember who I am, Asakura. Born in Russia, found love in Poland, baptized in Chechnya, nurtured in Afghanistan, tested in Syria.

I am Spetsnaz. I am Mafia. I am your fucking end!!!

And who do you stand beside? A womanizing, drug addled failure of a Spartan’s Champion? Raivo?! You do all these things to a worthy champion, a quality champion, because for your two matches in OWA you have done nothing but be a fuck up of the highest god damn level. You’re less than Arata who is a mediocre fighter, a forgettable Spartans champ who lost, cleanly, to JD Damon. The frontlines bitch, you are two pegs below him. At the show of shows, in your finest hour you got trounced on the feet, died on your knees, and lost your little title on your back to Jason Long. I made the Mujahadeen scream with what I did to them, you could barely stagger Stark, we are not the fuckin’ same.

I have done unspeakable things to get my brothers out alive, to save their lives. I am the necessary evil. Put a gun in Raivo’s hands and ask him to kill the enemy, he hesitates, he pisses his pants, and he cries because he is suddenly in a fight where no referee can protect him. There were no officials in Dagestan, just blood and earth. You walk into a world we know all too well, Guerilla Warfare. That stipulation is a rule of engagement I adapted to, painfully, and learned to love, all too lethally. In your attempts to garner 15 minutes of shock value fame Raivo… You spat on a good man’s corpse, you insulted his family, you harassed his wife, and you dared to lay your hands on his child. You fucked around. Time to find out. Your team captain is a genocidal maniac who would gladly turn you and your entire people into ash if it meant obtaining another transitional title reign, and you’re following him in the chance to be yet another enhancement talent stepping stone on someone else’s road to victory.

You are going to die here, and none of Scott Oasis’ corporate conscripts can protect you. Your family will watch as you pay for all of your crimes on screen, as I desecrate you, humiliate you, and they will not find your body where I am taking it. That is a promise, that is a vow, and if you want proof of confidence ask your partner Jack Daito what I did to his friends last year.

You remember me, don’t you Daito? Heh, yes you do. I see it in your eyes, the twitch of fear, the anxious breathing telegraphing impending hyperventilation; Fear. When the Golden Dawn first took to the field in its attempts to prove itself as a force to be feared, they came up against a combined Kingdom at Game Over 2021. I can still smell it.. Remember it. Don’t you, Jack?

When I lit that molotov and engulfed your brothers in fire. Fusing their flesh to the floor as all you could do was sit there. You let your friends die. You are an amatuer bladesman, a failure as a man, and a warrior, and what haunts your mind forever is that Michael Bishop humiliated you again, and again, time after time, seven times in a row, and not once did you ever come close to beating him. The question is… when you lie defeated Daito, will I kill you? Or will I leave you to spend yet another year of monotony as your fractured mind attempts to cope with your reality. Let that thought eat away, I shall see you on Sunday.

The force that opposes us is as it has always been: A horde bound together by hesitation and bitterness, driven by greed, that will die with hate in their hearts as we once again drive the banner of the Mafia through their heart, through their soul, and raise it above as Kingdom is once again victorious against the darkness that attempts to consume it. We are a brotherhood without banners, across all borders, across all corners.

Jason Long I met personally years ago. He saw the path he was on and chose to join. He was written off by the world as hopeless, and every single day since they he has continued to show them through conviction and will why he is the Spartan King, a fact that makes Raivo cry himself to sleep at night with his Rebecca Bishop body pillow. The crown he wears is the heritage of every battle he has waged, and every obstacle he has overcome.

Noah Kreiger joins us in this trench, because he has seem this same violence before. In his very one home, in Chicago. The same violence Michael and I joined forces against so many years ago. The same violence that brought it’s way back to Kingdom, that we must audit from this earth by any means necessary. We fight for a peaceful world, one of passion, not of fury, but to get there some motherfuckers need to be killed. And mark my words, and history as my witness: Sometimes the only way to save a life, is by taking one. I’ve learned by now that waging war is bad for the soul but when done righteously, it becomes a chore like any other. And with what is at stake, We cannot fail!!

This isn’t for some fucking 10lb strap, this isn’t for the world title. This is for Rebecca Bishop, his wife, who now raises her child telling her stories of her father instead of creating them with her!! This is for Lita, the child of the greatest man on this earth, who should have grown up watching her father fight, instead of watching on a screen!! This is for every forsaken son he took under his wing, and gave hope to in their darkest hour!! This is for every brother in arms he had on Kingdom, every sister in arms he had abroad!! For every tear shed in his name, for every drop of blood wasted by this war, and for every drop of sweat spent holding your evil back!!

This to bring an end to a war, once and for all!

By any means necessary, whatever it takes. That is the score, that always has been, and when little Rin grows up one day she is going to find out the truth of her father, the indoctrination she faced, the evil he wrought… and what we do to you in that ring will shock the world and life in infamy and vengeance for the next five hundred years.

Formerly, Callsign: Redeemer. Now, just Cyka.

When that bell rings? Your Grim Reaper.

Mafia Invicta.

Scott Oasis, Alyssa Grace, Rebecca Filth, DT The Ruler and Tyler Kulina have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos July 18th 2022, 12:40 am by **Angelina Magnum**

Angelina Magnum

(Super)Natural Tan

As the sun sets and is replaced by the impending dread of night, Angelina Magnum lets out a sigh. She is sitting in a circle of salt, her legs crossed in a rickety wooden chair, her surroundings a rundown workshop covered in oil and grease, a far cry from her usual luxurious locales.

Angelina: Really? This is the best you guys could come up with? You made that show for FIFTEEN YEARS and the only trick you picked up to defend against demons was some salt?!

Outside the circle sit Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki, each holding shotguns and wearing various religious symbols and charms.

Jensen: Look, Angie, we came to help you because we’re friends. I know that you expected a little more but it’s not like we’re ACTUAL demon hunters. We’re doing our best. You should have hit up Jeffrey about this, he was way more into that shit than we were.

Jared: Yeah, I’m not even sure what we’re doing here. We’ve all got actual careers to get back to.

Angelina: Pa-lease! First off, I have no interest in talking to Jeffrey, I don’t hang around with old men. Secondly, what the hell have you done that anyone cares about other than Supernatural, Jared? This is the first gig you’ve booked in I don’t know how long. And I have no idea what The Boys is, Jensen, but it sounds dumb and I thought you were better than Internet TV shows.

Jensen: It’s one of the most popular shows on Amazon Prime!

Angelina: And Rebecca Filth was the most popular judge at the last National Hotdog Eating Contest, nobody cares, Jensen! You’re so inconsiderate, seriously. I have done everything right since I started this pro wrestling shtick. I won the BOB Games like I said I would and rightfully got a world title shot. Everything was going fine, I had the situation under control. Despite how intimidating everyone seems to find her, Rebecca Filth’s not difficult to figure out. Her mind’s in the gutter, everything you say to her is a double-entendre and she uses pro wrestling to fund her nymphomania, wow, I’m so scared! I know what I’m doing with her, I know how she can be taken down but nooooo, life can’t be that simple, can it?

I am expected to just let The Banshee waltz in and start calling her shots? What the hell has she done to get this? Burying a poor, defenceless woman alive is enough to get a pop at the champ? I had to win a rigorous athletic tournament, I had to risk it all at Final Destination, she dumped some dirt on someone. Now I’m having to constantly look over my shoulder to make sure that crusty bitch isn’t trying to get involved in MY business. I got teleported to a damn graveyard! There were zombies! I don’t know if Rebecca even got out alive and frankly I don’t care. Maybe she could pull a Michael Bishop and forfeit the belt to me because she finally found a bed she can’t master. Unlike everyone else in this stupid sport, I can’t afford to be careless. My face is worth more than most people’s houses, my name is box office. How selfish of Banshee to jeopardise everything all because she thinks she deserves something she doesn’t. Does she think her mind games are so exceptional? Does she think she’s going to force herself into being a true main event name with these antics?

The world needs less Banshees, less Filths, insults to women who stopped caring about themselves years ago. It makes me sick. I am the guardian of womanhood, of what it means to be a strong, Alpha female. God, I’m repulsed just thinking about all this…

Jensen: You didn’t look too repulsed during that live sex celebration, you looked kind of into it before all the zombie shit.

Jared: Yeah, my wife made me turn the TV off because I was starting to enjoy it a little too much.

Angelina: Good! Then the segment accomplished EXACTLY what I intended! Everyone is raving about it, right? I keep hearing people say it was one of the best moments in Odyssey history, that it will forever be remembered as a classic piece of television. I knew it was gold, I knew the people would love it and that is why I went out there. Rebecca Filth saw it as psychological warfare, as a way to get under my skin and make me feel uncomfortable. If I didn’t have confidence that I could be 100% in control, do you think I would have gone out there?

I could have taken the easy route, I could have snubbed Rebecca’s invite and left her there with nothing but her Hitachi to pleasure herself, but I know what I bring to this business. I knew the ratings would be through the roof, that the social media engagement would break records. I’ve looked at the numbers and guess what? Business is booming! Odyssey is more relevant than ever. More so than when Filth won her title, than when she won the Clash, than ANY moment in her career. Everything about that celebration was by design. I went out there in the hottest, sexiest, tightest dress, I had the men in that arena drooling like dogs over me, I riled them up so much that when even the slightest bit of contact happened between me and Filth, the people roared with enthusiasm.

Jenson: I know I was roaring with enthusiasm!

Angelina: Shut up, Jensen! The fact of the matter is that that was MY segment, I was the star. Do you think anyone there would give a crap if Filth was making moves on an uggo like Rebecca Brookes or Diantha Rosso? No. A mid bitch would never have got the same level of attention that I did. You two were so blinded by your own lust that you couldn’t see what was before your very eyes: Acting.

Jared: Whaaaa?

Angelina: Exactly! I should be nominated for an Emmy for my performance! The way I shied away from Filth but slowly warmed to her, those little moans I let out when she got in close, years of acting experience coming into play, boys! I had you all fooled, Revy might be going to Hollywood but I’m from there, baby! Every movement, every facial expression, every moan, a meticulously constructed performance to sell the segment and make headlines. Nobody would care if I showed up and attacked Rebecca, nobody would care if I didn’t play her little game, that would be boring TV. If there is one thing I refuse to be a part of, it’s boring TV. I have no interest in whatever “rasslin” beefs go on in OWA. Rebecca’s got two things that she’s very good at: weaponising sex and beating people up. But I bring the true intangibles to the table, an ‘it’ factor that made that celebration must-see. Rebecca should be THANKING me for giving her the most relevance she’s ever had in her life. For one night only, she was more than a Gutter Whore, more than a human Fleshlight, she was the co-star in one of OWA’s more triumphant productions! Oh and she did a remarkable job, I was impressed at how naturally everything fell into place. We made the world believe it was real, I think even SHE believes it was real.

That is the magic of acting. Amber Heard taught me that you must always be in control, that you have to play your part so well that the lines between fantasy and reality are permanently blurred. I am so proud of it. My first opportunity to close Odyssey and I knocked it out of the park. I demonstrated my value to this company by going above and beyond the call of duty in what was asked of me. That is the mentality of a star, of a champion. Why do you think I said we should have the match on the next Odyssey? It wasn’t impatience, it was INTELLIGENCE. I want to carry the momentum into the next show, to keep Odyssey thriving with me leading the charge of its boom period. It took four long, LONG years, but the women’s show is finally pulling ahead of Kingdom and Olympus and it’s no coincidence that I’m at the forefront of that. Rebecca is doing GREAT in her supporting part, don’t get me wrong, but I am a lead, you understand? Her adlib about making it a bra and panties match? I have to give credit where it’s due, that was genius.

Who ISN’T going to be tuning in? The first EVER bra and panties match in OWA history and it’s for the biggest title with the biggest star challenging for the gold. This really is like a movie script writing itself, my destiny has come true just as I foretold. Every other Women’s World Title match before is nowhere near this one in terms of magnitude. The people don’t want “workrate”, or 30-minute classics, they want T and A! They want smut! They want a hottie like me showing them alllll of my assets…

Angelina unfolds her legs and quickly puts the other one over as Jensen and Jared’s eyes almost pop out of their heads.

Angelina: You see what I mean? Men are so simple, just driven by their hormones. Rebecca Filth’s no different. The end goal with you horndogs is always the same, my end goal is to push Odyssey into the stratosphere. That can’t happen as long as Filth is champion, no sir. But it’s okay, because with the world watching, I will do what the haters think is unfair: I will skip the line of all these pick me bitches and take my place at the top of the pile. How many matches have some of these women been in? Hell, Rebecca had to win an entire Clash to finally get her big shot. I’ve been in ONE MATCH, count it, ONE MATCH in my entire life and here I am. I know it makes the blood of all these 4s and 5s boil. But pretty privilege is a way of life. While women with no real ambition are curating their OnlyFans pages and deluding themselves into thinking sex work is real work - it’s not, everyone who does it is either poor, desperate or ugly - I’m out here doing the real legwork. And just look at my legs, these babies never stop working. I’m doing the photoshoots, the autograph signings, the media appearances, my phone never stops going off, the bookings just keep on coming. But I don’t see it as a challenge to be so in-demand, it’s what I’m ENTITLED to, I’m also entitled to be world champion. I’m entitled to pull off what the uneducated would call an upset and end the unbeaten streak of a woman who apparently can’t lose.

I’m gonna say it, Rebecca Filth being undefeated for a year isn’t a demonstration of her skills, it’s just a sad indictment of how badly Odyssey needs me. All these so-called Alphas allowed themselves to be beaten to the top by the new girl because they lack ambition, grace, finesse, the elements of stardom that Rebecca Filth has never had to contend with. She is used to sharing the ring with scrubs, because she IS a scrub. What is the point in being the best when your competition is a bunch of losers?

When I get the belt, the cream will rise to the top, Odyssey will be made great again…

…are you two trying to protect me or are you just looking at my body?!

Jensen and Jared snap to attention but look confused.

Jensen: Uhh you were talking about bodies?

Jared: I was in Supernatural.

Angelina: Ugh, I’ll deal with these demons and hoes myself, you two are useless! Call yourselves a goddamn Uber!

Angelina gets up and leaves.

OWA Promos - Page 3 Mandy-rose-brunette-yellow-bikini.png?q=50&fit=crop&w=1400&dpr=1

Jeff X, Alyssa Grace, DT The Ruler, marielacorriveau, Chad Ecclestone and Tyler Kulina have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos July 15th 2022, 11:29 pm by **marielacorriveau**

The Moment

The smoke always gets in her eyes.

Marie pours red wine into a chipped white coffee mug, eyes fluttering closed as she sets the bottle aside.

The circle is drawn in chalk. Not just a shape on the wood floors, but an intricate blend of protective symbols and symbols for victory - Thurisaz and Algiz melded with Uruz and Teiwaz to form the first ring. Mannaz sits at the north point for union.

Inside, at the cardinal points, that’s the hard work. It’s taken her a long time to create the careful curves, the picture perfect Hebrew characters, the names of angels and old prayers that form the inner circle, framing the small space she and Violet will sit.

The Sixth Pentacle of Mars
(if thou art attacked by any one, his own weapons shall turn against him.)
The Third Pentacle of the Sun
(to acquire renown and glory)
The Second Pentacle of Jupiter
(for acquiring glory, honours, dignities)
The Fourth Pentacle of Mars
(without doubt it will give thee victory.)

She lifts the cup to her lips - it’s her favourite, sweet and fortifying, and she tastes blackberry and something green, something she’s never been able to place.

Add to the incense. It’s not the delicate handmade sticks she buys from tattooed women living in the mountains, it’s older than that, resins that have travelled hundreds of miles to reach her, resins used thousands of years ago for the same purpose. The smoke stings her eyes and nose and fills the room with thick sweet drifts like morning fog. The smoke always gets in her eyes.

Marie opens her eyes, staring without seeing into her backyard, at the garage where her tag team partner’s motorcycle is housed next to her pedal bike, at Phillip happily grazing next to the oversized dog house she bought when he was brought to her as a bleating, nervous baby.

Hands over hands, like a children’s game, then comes the rope, to bind tight as they grip each other’s wrists. The posture taught to her decades ago as a witch’s handshake by a man she would surpass within a year in power. She considers for the briefest moment that she could still stop, let go, brush away the circles with the broom she bound herself, but she can’t let Violet down. Besides, something left half done is dangerous. Like many things, when a ritual is begun, it must be seen to the end.

Absent-mindedly, she begins to clear away papers from her kitchen table - she’d hate for her visitor to read any of it aloud out of curiosity. Marie is used to living alone, just her and Phillip and she barely remembers where she’s left out relics and talismans and texts that are both at once. No, that wouldn’t do at all. They have enough to worry about without unleashing something they can’t easily put back where it came from. Violet came to her with an idea, and from that idea came something Marie had forgotten - purpose.

Say the words together, one voice, unity only marred by two accents that seem to slip away halfway through, slip into something different, something older. She’s proud of Violet, it takes time to learn the right inflections, but she seems to have done it.

They’ve done it. They

And then it hits, that moment Marie lives for, the moment of surge and spark and shock when it’s clear the words were right and the symbols were true and the incense properly chosen. The moment when spellwork forges new reality. She sees for a moment, the vision like a toy periscope in the hands of an unsure child, like a dream that continues though your eyes are open and you should be awake. She sees Violet, and she knows that Violet can see her too. The double vision, sight over sight, is so fleeting she knows she won’t be able to make sense of it once it’s done. She’ll only be left with impressions, feelings, knowledge left dormant until the moment of need. It only lasts a moment.

And then it’s over.

Hesitantly, Marie steps outside with her cup of wine and lights a long black cigarette - she can see Violet now, in the corner of her eye that only exists in her mind, sitting next to Phillip in the cool dark morning. Purpose. Marie has never needed a purpose. She came to OWA as herself, because she wanted to have fun, wanted to thrill. From the moment she landed her first moonsault, she couldn’t imagine doing anything else, and that had always been enough.

Listen to them. Hold your arms out, soak it in. The light, the music, the cheers. The crowd is behind you. Tonight, you're the hero - for once, don't hide away from it. They love you. You can take this. You can be champion.

She’d traded wins and losses back and forth and it didn’t matter. The moment was enough.

They fear us both individually because they don’t understand us.
I want to embrace who we are.

She puts out her cigarette and walks back inside, through the kitchen, to the open living room. The table is still pushed aside, and she hasn’t yet had a chance to wash the floors with rosemary and mint water, clear away the last vestiges of what was done.

Instead of trying to drag the heavy old table back into place, she pulls a tablecloth off of the old trunk. She hadn’t wanted any interference, and a raggedy old piece of cloth can muffle any sound perfectly - if it’s been imbued with the right enchantments, anyways.

Marie sits down on the trunk cross legged with her mug, tracing the painted lines on it carefully, looking for any break that might need to be fixed to be on the safe side. So far nothing has cracked or chipped, and the lines are as white as before - just like the chalk lines that had been drawn for another sort of binding the day before. There’s a soft rustling underneath her, as if something is stirring, and then a scratching sound.

“No, I didn’t win the match.”

Scratch, scratch, scratch.

“That’s exactly what she is, yes. Do you have a problem with that? You’re not exactly paying rent, so I won’t have protests about sharing the space with a vampire.”

Silence.

Thump.

“Because we have a lot in common. Chiefly, we’re unusual. But not nearly as unusual as people think. I have it a little easier, I think. People are getting a little more used to the witchcraft thing as time goes on - I guess I can give the Wiccans that one thing. When every girl from age 16 to 34 buys rose quartz to amp up their love life, there’s no much shame left in it. But dhampirs… I wonder how many are out there, full of self loathing, confused, needing… I don’t know.”

Thud.

“Of course it hasn’t escaped me. This is twice in as many months that OWA has gone to a place where witch hunts still happen on a semi regular basis. I’m speaking generally. In most places, I can be a witch without risking what happened to you. And besides, it’s not technically against the law in Indonesia. It’s complicated. I won’t be arrested, I just… it’s fine. Why do you care, anyways? You’re never getting out of this box, madame.”

This time the thud is to the lid, so hard Marie jumps.

“Yes, very compelling. Very spooky. I’m sure if any young children were here they’d be terrified. Too bad you’re in there and I’m out here, hein? I can imagine what you’d like to do to me. I’d have much more to worry about than Becca and Kalisi, that much you'd make sure of. Not that I’m worried as it is. Felix was a challenge, one that I sadly could not rise to. But those two…”

There’s an annoyed knock underneath her.

“Shut up. I’m not underestimating anyone. You know I always give my opponents the respect they deserve. If anything it’s hurt me, made people think I’m weak. But these two… ah, what is there to say? You weren’t there - obviously, to see what Bianca did to Becca. It was so sad, madame. Like watching a little doll abused by a cruel child. She would have my whole heart if she had simply been there for her partner, you understand. I would be in the stands for her next match, but…”

Knock

“We’re not going to use the same tactics, no. We're better than that. I always was better than that, and Violet... after last night, I can see she is too. She's brutal, of course, and could probably win their match all by herself, but she won't have to. But... that’s not what we’re here for, madame. We’re here to win, the right way. For them.”

They share a long silence as Marie finishes her wine, one long finger tracing the pentacles and runes and prayers she put there to bind her guest. Unbreakable.

A sound like the slow grind of stone.

“Yes, madame. I suppose we are.”

Jeff X, Alyssa Grace, Daisy Thrash, DT The Ruler, Lazarus Arjen, Felix Hartley and Violet Cunningham have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos July 13th 2022, 3:25 pm by **Violet Cunningham**

A New Team Is Born

We open to a wide shot of an old house, framed by trees, the early morning sun filtering through the mist and leaves. It cuts to an interior hallway shot, and through the doorway at the end is a table. Marie Bouchard sits at that table, across from The Reaper, talking about something. As the camera moves down the hallway, Violet stands and leaves the room, briefly looking at the camera before heading through another doorway.

The sound of heavy boots on wood echoes through the house, until the creaking of a door opening and shutting signifies the exit of Cunningham. She sits in the garden, on a bench, in the shade, lighting a cigarette and motioning the camera closer. The mist thickens.

I just had a rather interesting conversation with my new teammate. It was never a particular interest of mine, the study of witchcraft, but Marie is a library’s worth of knowledge, and that’s not including the actual library’s worth of books she happens to own. After I made the proposition of a team, we’ve since decided to do as much as we can to maximize our synergy together, especially with such a short time until our first match as a team. That apparently includes some ritual-type deal Marie was telling me about, and it sounds intriguing.

She sits back, taking a long drag on the cigarette, flicking the remains onto the small concrete area around the bench. Furrowing her brow, she continues.

Marie knows far more about that stuff than I do, I’m sure she’ll explain. No, I don’t think you’re listening to me talk because you want a lesson in magic. You would all rather hear my thoughts on our opponents, wouldn’t you? Very well.

She grinned, her fangs in full view.

I’ll bite.

I’ll start with Killer Kalisi. Wow. It’s going to be an absolute treat, brawling with you. Big, mean, loud - but that’s really all you are, isn’t it? Just a pissed off Samoan. And while that works, it’s not exactly interesting. On top of that, you don’t exactly scream “team player” to me. In fact, all you ever seem to scream is incoherent threats and taunts that can’ be heard over the booing of the crowd - you’ve had one match and already people don’t like you. But I’ve got to feel for you, getting lumped in with someone who had a less-than-stellar tag team performance recently. Of course, it’s not pity I feel, it’s amusement. Look at you, all amped up and in the mood to try and bulldoze your way to the top, and you’re placed with a punching bag. Not only that, but you’ve got to face Odyssey’s hottest new tag team.

She pauses for dramatic effect, smiling at the camera.

Bad. Meets. Evil. It’s not even been a week and we’ve got designs on the future of this division, and Odyssey as a whole, and all you’ve got is a single notch in your belt and a chip on your shoulder. I could go toe-to-toe with you at any time, and you wouldn’t beat me on my worst day, but you won’t get the chance for a one-on-one, no. Instead, you’re going to have to hang that pride and shitty attitude up, work with your teammate, and understand that no matter what you do or how hard you try, there’s only one outcome for this match. Bad Meets Evil, victorious. And we’ll remain victorious, all the way up to the top. So don’t worry, you’ll at least get the chance to save face by claiming you got your ass kicked by champions.

She took another drag, blowing the smoke out her nose.

Then we have Becca Black, I mean, what do I even need to say? You got jumped backstage and clearly got a concussion, because I refuse to believe you could have been so stupid as to think you’d have a chance upon stepping into the ring - especially when your teammate looked like she was about to put the final nail in BIANCA’s coffin. But no, you just had to try and be a glory thief, didn’t you? Not a single word uttered in BIANCA’s direction, and not a single bit of respect in Ellie’s either. Pitiful. You deserved what you got.

Still, I understand the booking choice. People want to see Marie and I in action, they don’t care about the opponents. Neither do I, to say the least. It’s the message we send that I care about, beating wrestler after wrestler while remaining unapologetically us. So do yourselves a couple favors: Kalisi, why don’t you dig around in that bottomless pit of rage, and find some words of worth to throw back my way, and Becca? The whole “vow of silence” thing is for monks, not wrestlers. You’ve got vocal chords, we’ve had the misfortune of hearing them in action. Use them.

In the meantime, I’ve got a few boxes to move, a witch to train with, and books to read. I should mention, the only reason I’m doing this is because there was literally nothing better to do while waiting for Marie, so spare me any attempt at making me give a damn about what empty threats you intend to preach.

Violet stood, taking one last drag before dropping the cigarette and crushing it beneath her boot. She was looking down at the camera now, her face emotionless.

Perhaps one of you should just lie down on the mat and take the pin as soon as you can, save yourselves the damage you’ll take. Make no mistake, myself and Marie have cause and purpose, but that will not stop me from causing you grievous bodily harm if I have to. I love the people I represent, and I will not allow either of you to send Bad Meets Evil away - because let’s be real, you two will butt heads at every turn.

I wouldn’t say I’m cocky, simply confident in both myself and my teammate. Our close arrivals in OWA may have been a coincidence, or perhaps something more, but one thing is for sure - Bad Meets Evil was destined to happen, and we’re destined for greatness. So good luck, both of you, with whatever game plan you choose, and don’t panic - you’ll still be able to walk after we’re finished with you. Eventually.

Violet flashes one last smile at the camera before striding away towards the house, the morning mist engulfing her, obscuring her from sight. Then it surges forward, washing over the camera until the screen is nothing but gray. Strange shapes move in the distance, then the feed cuts to black.

Jeff X, Alyssa Grace, Daisy Thrash, DT The Ruler, Lazarus Arjen, Krysis and marielacorriveau have spoken. It’s such good shit!

THE DANISH GAMBIT July 8th 2022, 11:59 pm by **Bringeroflight**

Often, context is required to fully comprehend the beauty behind an art piece.

Except there ain’t a museum in sight, nor are there any art exhibits with ornate and clean descriptions to tie a bow around a work of art, from start to finish. Seeing Hamtramck on a canvas wouldn’t do the place justice. Surrounded by Detroit on all sides, it’s fate was always intertwined to its surroundings. A lil slice of ghetto heaven jumps from under five thousand citizens to over forty thousand, thanks to Dodge manufacturing jobs. Cheaper labor overseas and white flight landed with all of the grace of a brain aneurysm. Seizing, vomiting, dazed and confused, yet still continuing to draw breath despite injury, Hamtramck stood as an affront to wealth.

And that’s cool shit.

But it ain’t why Drago’s sitting underneath smog filled skies, at a park bench, taking another involuntary vape hit from whatever factory’s upwind. This place’s history is a bonus.

It only makes the perogies taste even more savory.

Pietrzyk Pierogi, tucked and folded into the Painted Lady restaurant, is hands fucking down, undefeated.

Others are seduced by spirits, others by the lounging of flesh yearning for intimacy. But Drago’s different.

After seventy five minute trail runs, biking, and hitting the mats as a warmup for whatever training is on the menu, any jalapeno or cheeseburger pierogi should know it’s on-fucking-sight as soon as Santiago slides through the threshold. Baiting Drago with his favorite food was an old trick used by his mentor, to yank him out of his hyper-focused, hyper-fixating routine before a fight. Semion Silchenko can read Drago like a book, because after all, his influence has definitely earned him a citation. Hands still full, with savory crumbs spilling onto a DKNY hoodie, Drago’s eyes look across the table, and he twists the metaphorical screw even tighter, as he continues his negotiation.

“So that’s a hard no?”

Most smiles light up rooms, but Semion’s activates fight or flight instincts. Therefore, the smile from Drago’s elder isn’t soothing. “I didn’t hear you right. I couldn’t have. Your training is about remaining calm, remaining cool, and staying level headed. Use tools to quick end battles, without starting wars. Does this approach repulse you?”

“No,” Drago sighs, “it makes sure I understand the weight behind every strike I throw.”

“Yet your proposition contradicts this, yes? You’d gamble to gain my blessing to use techniques I consider profane, no matter the stakes. Why would you embrace this contradiction?”

“Because I have to. You can't truly call yourself “peaceful” unless you are capable of great violence. If you're not capable of violence, you're not peaceful, you're harmless. Those standing in my way face each other in an arms race. Fuck catching up - I’d like to sprint past them.”

“Well, I trust you to know your limits. Bad blows and all.” A pause for emphasis does apply freshly squeezed lemon juice to fresh wounds. Setting his briefcase on the table and clicking open the hatches, Semion continues to speak about blood and brutality with the same tone someone would talk about their favorite recipe. “We push past pain - but we don’t step into battle with faulty tools. If you want my blessing, beat me-'' In an instant, Drago’s jalapeno pierogi is shoved between his jaws to free his hands. Semion reaches into his briefcase, and slides out a black and white checkered board, with matching stone chess pieces. "-in a game of chess. Prove you’re driven by intelligence, not revenge. Win and get my blessing. Lose and skip this match, let yourself heal. No point aggravating injuries if you're doing the same shit.”

Big inhale, big exhale. The D-town Demon is out of the building - in his wake, the boy looking up to his mentor as an equal in battle. Fingers drum on the table as anxiety escapes him, but he finally spits out, “Most definitely.” To further lean into something that’d be a bluff on any other day under any other circumstances, Santiago reaches for the white queen, and begins setting up his pieces, to Semion’s laughter and small applause.

“Remember who taught you to play by beating you, Nathaniel.” With both sides of the board readied, Santiago moves the pawn in front of his King two spaces. “Nah. I didn’t learn a lot from getting checkmated before I could break a sweat. This is all me.” Likewise, Semion’s black pawn meets its counterpart in the middle of the board, two paces ahead. It’s met by the pawn blocking Drago’s queen, moving two paces ahead. With a curious stare across the board to navigate counters like a soldier crossing a minefield, Semion attacks this pawn, and is ignored completely by Drago’s bishop passing his pawn. Another attack, more material lost. Another attack, another pawn, sacrificed, until in less than five plays, Semion’s pawn is in Drago’s backline, threatening a bishop and rook, but is finally captured by a bishop.

“Was this a long and convoluted plot to get a day off?” The experienced ring veteran muses out loud, as content as the cat who caught the mouse. “No. Historically, I’m not a risk taker, I’m the one that punishes risk-takers. But if I want to use THAT technique… if I’m taking the risk, I’ve gotta make sure there’s a massive reward. I’ll never beat those better than me by defending and countering, will I?”

Chess isn’t about pieces, but about playing your opponent. Drago could never outwit his mentor. Impenetrable defenses and devastating counters define the submission savant’s style, but Semion looks at the board, to realize he’s not playing against a Drago he recognizes. The center of the board is wide open. Even with three pawns sacrificed, two bishops threaten the weak side of Semion’s defense. He took three pieces effortlessly, but hadn’t developed anything resembling a defense. All those pawns defeated open up lanes for Drago to attack in any direction he chooses. Defense be damned - every piece Drago has is on offense. He groans. “The Danish Gambit? You?”

“Every time I sharpened my defense, I better understood how to attack.”

Semion’s eyes are that of a seer, examining all of the potential threats and assessing the best outcomes. Finally, the teacher’s teacher reaches forward.

He knocks his king over. “You win.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I’m honored you’d ask for my blessing, but you’re old enough to decide your own fate. You’ve got a soul, you can make your own choices and live with it. You were young and spiteful when you started developing that move. Using defeat to turn expectations was clever..”

“I don’t get it.” Leftover pierogi spills onto patchy, dead grasses, as Drago stands. “You’re serious?”

“I’m serious. If you asked for my blessing for something other than a bruised ego or sour grapes, I want to see what is worth this risk.”

**********

Lo and behold, ask and ye shall receive.

Comments on my silence vex me, because I don’t like all the yip-yap until I’ve got something to say. If we're making threats, it’s best reserved for after the work’s finished in the gym, on the mats, on the trails, and wherever the fuck I’ve gotta trade blood, sweat, and tears for results. Still, it ain’t very Midwestern to leave y’all high and dry, so I apologize. I’m excited you want to hear me speak! I grew up as the kid no one wanted to listen to, so its surprising when I’m on the microphone, and people eat it up as though I were Michelangelo reaching for his chisel. Instead, for Rich and Ryo, I am metaphorically grabbing my paintbrush, and I’m drawing dicks on your foreheads.

In the first act, I committed a grave error. I decided it’d be a massive disservice to you both, myself, and everyone who will be in attendance, James Diamond included, if I’d paint you both as one-dimensional caricatures of yourselves, only to cast myself as multifaceted, complex, and deep beyond comprehension. I try walkin' in other peoples' Vans.

Y’all don’t feel the same. It’s whatever.

I realized what you both deserve - you deserve grace and understanding. In fact, you deserve exactly as much grace and understanding as you give to others. Zilch. I don’t think I’m special, and even though every time I’ve gotten to first place some chucklefuck lobs a blue shell, my grievances aren’t with the universe. I worry about what I can control and dismiss what I can’t.

Ryo, I got no qualms with you, Icarus, Daedalus, the Sun, and especially, James Diamond. Even if you’re aiming for the 18-and-under demographic, you still gotta act like a man. Watching you wasn’t like watching someone who was cunning, or conniving, or sly. Diamond’s bashing faces of top guys in - you make him look better by contrast.

Motherfucker, you look like a minor villain meandering around to give Batman a hard time before he fights the Joker.

Rich, I like what you’re selling, but I can’t let you slide off scot-free. If Baker brushed you off after reducing everything you’ve done in the ring into binary code, you’d be the first person in this building calling bullshit. If Elijah examined your body of work in one place, then decided that was all you were, all you’d ever be, and all you ever could be, you can’t tell me you wouldn’t take offense to it, because you understand it’s nonsense.

So what in the ever-loving calamafuck did you think would allow you to slide this sly bullshit around me? This attitude, come on man! You are six foot five, damn near three hundred pounds, but you decided that you wanted to be small. You think you’re too talented to be fighting the likes of Ryo? You think you’re too good to step into the ring with me?

Kthx, let’s see if you feel the same way after I beat you.

Lil history lesson; I debuted and beat a person who’d loom over you like a hinge, twice. I gave that motherfucker Monster Truck ragdoll physics.

Got a title shot. Got jumped, and lost it. I didn’t bitch and moan, I complimented the guy for doing what I’d have done in his shoes, if I had the connections here to pull it off. I fought JESUS CHRIST and KING KONG CONSCIOUSNESS, Maggall, because when the Doors of infinity open to bring me an opponent, I step to the plate. Jesus Christ entered the ring from Heaven? I SENT THAT CHUCKLEFUCK TO VALHALLA. Rifts between dimensions spit out an opponent for me?

I treat it like any other Sunday. Cody Rhodes got sent on a red-eye flight back to his timeline because I don’t ask questions, I don’t throw my weight around, I’m not a politician, I just do my best to make the most out of the chances I get. It often works. Sometimes, it doesn’t. But I’m okay, because frustration and rage are better than shame and regret.

Your willingness to blow off your competition isn’t all that surprising. You’ve been the best everywhere you go, so much so, because winning is all you do. Let’s skip the DJ Khaled song moment - you don’t seem to have any beliefs that extend further than you can reach. It’s almost like a child with object permanence, but if you cannot touch something, you don’t believe it’s real. Rants and raves about loyalty are cryptic and confusing, because you’ve only ever put this loyalty under a microscope when being transactional, not transformative. To you, loyalty isn’t a concept - it is an input that gets a predetermined output.

But why question it?

You can be the most loyal person in Omega!!!!!111

Maybe you can be loyal to your neighborhood, like Snootie Wild. Maybe you can be loyal to your hometown, like Young Dolph! Maybe you can be loyal to your coast like Nipsey! Shit, how did loyalty to old habits serve ODB?

Yeah, pot meet kettle, I know. There’s likely not many bigger homers walking around Olympus than yours truly. But my loyalty requires action - and by opening my horizons, I’m able to present more opportunities to people who were raised in houses where their parents had to choose between keeping the lights on or keeping the water running. I’ve been to new places, sponged up all the knowledge I could, and brought it back to my city. Your loyalty is sending you back home, empty handed, to shoot the shits with the boys. Bring the ruckus? Wu Tang’s best choice was to sell out and make an album for rich, white pharmaceutical owners. The money lining their pockets fed people, kept people’s lights on, and provided shelter. Examine the actions of your role models, not just their words.

You want to ascend?

ASSIMILATE.

Alyssa Grace, "Killer Bee" and Chad Ecclestone have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos July 8th 2022, 11:58 pm by **"Killer Bee"**

Do Historic Things

Shanghai, China

Sena was sitting alone. It was really the first time since he had left the dojo in Louisiana that he was legitimately all by himself. Even in a room full of people at some afternoon party he was attending, he was already truly feeling isolated. Emmy had tried to persuade him to withdraw from the tournament that he saw as a golden ticket to prove himself to the world. To prove himself to Emmy. To prove to himself that he could survive on his own. He had done well in snagging a small victory for himself. His performances at the Clash and in the BOB Games were decent, his match against MYOJIN was a measure of how far he had come in such a short time in the sport. Even so…

Where he wanted to be felt so far away. He knew that he was still very much in the beginning phase of his career, just discovering what he could do as a wrestler. But even so, he wanted to push himself even further. That’s why he was so annoyed with Emmanuelle when she tried to get him to withdraw. She couldn’t ever truly understand why he was doing what he was doing, why he was willing to take risks like he was. She was a prodigy, after all. They were close to the same age, but she had already done so much with her career and had the respect of people everywhere she went.

He noticed when she settled into a seat not far from his. People were laughing, joking, and having a wonderful time. This part of the business, being someone who could be looked at as a star, an ambassador, was still something he was getting the hang of.

“You’re still going through with this, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’m sorry if that upsets you. I know you’re looking out and you’re just trying to help me out.”

“It’s no biggie, man. I actually sat down and thought about it some and you’re right. I can’t be around to protect ya forever. Eventually you’re going to have to swim at the deep end of the pool without me. I’m glad you’re mature enough to understand that. It’s just…I’ve been in matches that are probably gonna be similar to what you’re facing. It’s not something I want to see you go through. I take good care of my skin…but I’ve got plenty of scars. Wrestling’s rough enough with the aches and pains your body gets…you don’t want to literally see what you put your body through too, you know?”

“I get it. But…no offense, you’re a chick. Scars look better on guys.”

“You’re a real piece of work, you know that?”

“I get bits and pieces of that from you.”

“Sure you do. Now…from what I understand you got to go to that Isolation room in a few hours. You may wanna get some decent food and some water before you go in there. Not enough to stuff yourself, but just enough energy for you to be ready to go when that match starts.”

“I don’t want to eat too much, but I don’t want to do anything crazy……Emmy?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think they have a toilet in that isolation room? I mean, I’m gonna be in there all day and I may have to take a shit or something, you know? I mean I don’t wanna get let out of there and think more about having to take a shit than my match.”

“You’re a fucking idiot. I mean…most places have toilets even for fuckers on death row. I’m pretty sure your Isolation room will have something.”

“Do you think I’ll be able to have some books or something?”

“How the fuck am I supposed to know? I don’t know what the specifics on that are. All I know is that you’re gonna be locked away and without access to people, food or water. I don’t know if you’ll have a toilet or books or whatever. You’re talking about this like you’re going to prison!”

“Well I kinda am for a day.”

“Whatever. What do you know about this Dick Beater guy?”

“Dick Slaughter.”

“Whatever.”

“Well…..from what I have heard from him he likes to blow stuff up. Very 1980s action hero.”

“Looks like one of those guys too. Listen, I’m pretty sure you know this, but he’s damn near half a foot taller than you and outweighs you by 80 pounds. You’re not going to be able to stand in there and exchange like you did with Daito or MYO. This bum will fucking kill you dead inside of five mintues. You’re going to have to use three things. Your speed. Your Brain. And your balls.”

“Um. Last I heard it was a bit passe to use your genitalia as wrestling weapons.”

“You know what I mean. And this guy loves putting his face in people's faces, so you know. So if you’re not careful you’re liable to get teabagged on Worldwide TV. Did you come here to get teabagged?”

“No.”

“Good. You better eat and drink. No booze though. I have a feeling you probably don’t want to be isolated and hungover at the same time. Me, I’m going to go to a party with some associates of mine. You remember SONYA, right? She’s got herself a contract and we’re throwing her a congratulations party.”

“Eh…what about me?”

“What about you?”

“You’re not going to help me get ready?”

“Heh, no. You’re the one who agreed to this crazy shit, kid. Not me. I mean I’ll be there to make sure you don’t die out there but for this one, you’re on your own. You want to prove you can do this for a living with someone not leading you around like a baby, yeah? Go do it.”

And with that, Emmy stood up and left. And Sena was alone again. At least he knew she understood what he was doing, even if she didn’t agree with it entirely.

“In order to make history, you have to do historic things.” I heard Kobe Bryant say that once and I just thought it was some cool cliche to spew out to make people pay attention to you once in a while. As cliche and common sense as that sounds though, analyze it a bit and you’ll see what he means. If one wants a historic result, you have to put in historic levels of effort. You don’t write history by simply coasting along and doing what other people before you have done.

I didn’t come to the Omega Wrestling Alliance to be a Carlos Rosso tribute act. I came here to forge my own path. That path is apparently not going to be pretty with this Dark Kingdom tournament journey I’m about to take part in. There’s no escaping the fact that I’m in for a very, very shitty time in a few days. I’m going to have to face my opponent, more on him in a second, but before that I’ve got to sit down and take a look at myself.

When I first signed up to do this wrestling thing, I didn’t look at it as a job or something that could be dangerous. I looked at it as a sport that I got real inspiration from watching as a child. I saw people doing amazing things over and over again and I wanted to be like them, to maybe in turn inspire someone to do something great. That’s what I wanted. I went to train with Carlos Rosso and even though it was hard, painful and frustrating to try to finish my training, I stuck with it. I saw people run off in the middle of the night. I saw bodybuilders the size of giants take one bump and walk out the door, never to be seen or heard from again.

I made it through all of the bumps and bruises just to get to this point….so why am I going to stop now that I’m here, yeah? I understand that this is going to be a challenge. The more I read up about this Dick Pounder Slaughter or whatever his name is, the more I realize that a scrawny guy like me is going to have to be extra vicious to win a tournament like this. Forget Rambo and Tropic Thunder and John Wick, this guy should have been in fucking Jurassic Park. He’s HUGE! But there’s one thing about him that I don’t know about but I know I know about me. Is he willing to go to those dark, nasty places that people don’t wanna talk about to win? Is he willing to nearly get his leg snapped off to win a championship?

There’s something that I notice a lot about these bigger wrestlers. Not just this guy, but any man who walks around with big muscles and bigger mouths: They talk hard, they hit hard….but they don’t know how to get hit. When someone stands up to me and makes them actually work for something, they don’t know how to respond. When you’re used to…let’s just use money as an example, okay? Let’s say you make a lot of money and you’re used to buying your way into someone’s pants. You’re this alpha male guy who probably can’t play something like pool or poker to save your life, but you’re easy with the cash. Women flock to you because you’ll make it rain, all that. But what are you willing to do when that woman who is in front of you who CAN'T be bought, who SEES THROUGH your bullshit and WANTS YOU TO ACTUALLY TRY….but all you know is one thing: spend money.

What do you do then?

Do you give up?

Or do you learn something new? Are you willing to go into the deep water to prove that you love her, that you cherish her, that you wanna wife her?

In a lot of ways, pro wrestling and dating aren’t all that dissimilar in my eyes. Some tasks are easier than others. But that’s the thing, I thrive on things being difficult. Easy things aren’t worth having in my thinking. So if a tournament that doesn’t push my limits or force me to change and adapt as a man and as a wrestler was something I signed up for, I’d have pulled my name out. But this is different. This is special. This is a chance for me to do something historic.

I’m more than prepared to do it. Are you? You talk like somebody that’s never been hit before, or barely been in a fight worth mentioning. You can talk about being strong. You can talk about what you’re ready for, how bland my moves are. How boring I am. But how are you going to respond when one of your supposed KO Bombs lands and doesn’t knock me down? How are you going to feel, big man, when I take my forearm and smack you across your fifty-nine pound head? Are you going to curl up into a ball like a scared little bitch?

Or are you going to fight back? Are you going to realize that in order to win a tournament like this you’re going to need more than muscles and guns and babes and just the simple belief that you can win? Are you going to be willing to pay the price? Are you willing to bleed? Are you willing to fail? Are you prepared to die?

This is what pro wrestling is like in Taniguchi Sena’s world, and you’re about to get a taste of it in just a couple of days. Everybody wants the pretty girl, but not everybody is willing to treat her right.

Everybody wants to make history…

But so painfully few of us are willing to do historic things to make it so.

I am.

Alyssa Grace, The Banshee and DT The Ruler have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Kingdom 2 July 8th 2022, 11:49 pm by **Dick P. Slaughter**

The facts of the furious 12: Ja Rule’s Revenge:

( We open on a two lane highway curving down along a mountain. It’s here we find a 1966 Camero speeding it’s way along the path, hugging, and drifting through tight corners as it tries to evade four pursuing black Mercedes Benz A- Class sedans. I’m the driver’s seat of the Chevy we find…

DICK P. Slaughter, P.I.

Accompanied by his newest assistant Elena Lovegood riding shotgun.)

Elena: Faster Dick, they’re gaining on us!

( As soon as the words escape her lips, one of the Mercedes bumps the back end of the Camero.)

DPS: These assholes are starting to piss me off. Do whatever you want to me, but you do not fuck with another man’s car.

Elena: Forget the car, these guys are trying to kill us!

DPS: The hell they will. I am not missing the isolation deadline before I’ve even made it to my first episode of Kingdom.

( Dick slams the breaks and swerves around to drive side by side along with the lead Mercedes. Sparks fly as the two speeding card grind against each other. Dick disengages,before swerving into the Mercedes sending it crashing head on into a tree.)

DPS: I never did met a tree hugger that I liked.

( there’s no time to relax as two more Mercedes pop up in place of the first like the heads of a hydra.)

Elena: Two more gaining fast!

DPS: Look for the little baggie in the dash board.

Elena: Dick this is no time to get stoned!

DPS: No, not that bag.

( Elena opens the dash to find a black velvet bag with the words ‘Road Rash’ in red letters embroidered on it.)

DPS: Open it up and Toss it out.

( Elena rolls down the window, and tossed the bag out. From it a countless number of nails and thumbtacks spill out into the road. The tacks shred the tires of the second Mercedes, which crashes into the third, sending both cars twisted and tumbling in a fiery explosion. The fourth Mercedes whips past the flaming wreckage. )

Elena: One more!

( Dick reaches back behind the seat. His hand searching desperately for something along the floor of the car. The henchmen driving the last Mercedes reaches out his window with a gun in hand and starts firing wildly.)

BANG
BANG
BANG!!!

( Dick swerves his best to avoid the bullets. Doing so the he was looking for takes a lucky roll into his hand.)

Elena: what’s that?!

DPS: It’s a celebration!

( Dick tosses a large white piece of canvas that had been rolled up. The Canvas unfurls into a big banner that reads ‘HAPPY 4th OF JULY MOTHERFUCKERS - Dick P. Slaughter’.

The banner flys through the air and lands on the wind shield of the last Mercedes. The driver hits the brakes to try and stop the car, but it’s not enough. The car goes off road and plunges all the way down to the mountain’s base leaving nothing but a fiery wreck.)

Elena: That was too close.

DPS: Maybe for you, this is just like Tuesday leftovers for me.

Elena: Oh don’t pull that macho bull crap on me. You know, that Sena kid hit the nail on the head with you I think.

DPS: You mean That guy who bitches like Anikin Skywalker about being told what not to do? The guy who doesn’t get that in this dark Kingdom tournament the cards are off the table, and everyone is now in a Mexican standoff. That fella has me all Wrong. First of all, you and I both know that Big Naheem was a pussy. That dude lost to a damn near crippled Mark Michaels in less than A minute didn’t he? Not a problem on my account. Second, I prefer Honey Bunches of Oats over grape nuts. Third, I make it a point not to trust a guy who doesn’t like me just because I don’t have to chase pussy, while he has to pay 20 percent of everything he makes for his.

Elena: That’s a low blow isn’t it?

DPS: Eh, maybe? But when someone questions your integrity, your manhood, when some little shit has the nerve to call you a poser from halfway around the world, well when you finally get a hold of the little shit it means his ass is grass, and I’ve got the weed whacker. If I was posing I’d say something along the lines of There’s an old saying, Never go in against a Sicilian went death is on the line, judging by my track record of filling holes with men a hell of a lot more dangerous than you are, I’d say there must be some Italian in my blood. That would be me being a poser. So since this guy can’t tell shit from apple butter about when a man is simply as gifted at whooped Ass as I am, Whatever the fuck else he has to say, he can blow it out his ass.

Elena: point taken, remind me not to call you out on your toxic masculinity next time.

( Dick gives Elena a sideways glance as if to say ‘ I can’t believe I pay you for this shit.’)

DPS: Look I’m not saying this guy doesn’t have some potential, If he was here I’d tell him Kid I’ll give you this, you got balls. I mean 184 pounds of ropey muscle, I’ve taken craps they are bigger than you, and you ain’t backing down, that takes heart. where most assholes I come across either need to be holding my girlfriend hostage, or have one of their goons soften me up before being ready to face off with me, you’re standing your ground like a man. You’re fighting for what you want, and I respect that. I believe every man has the right to chase his dream, and try his hand at whatever he may choose. But there’s a difference between trying and doing. There’s a different between being a high value first round draft pick, and making it in the major leagues. You think you’re cutting right threw me and moving on? I don’t like raining on your parade, but you heard your manager’s advice, she’s shaking in her shoes because this brand isn’t for the faint of heart, and neither is this tournament. There’s not a question about how tough I am, why do you think they booked my first match in the company to be one that could end the career of a lesser man. You’re playing with the big boys now, and if your best hope is That your fighting style being a blank canvas somehow keeping you from getting a broom handle broken off between your ass cheeks, then are you in for a surprise. a Milquetoast, bland, and frankly meandering move set isn’t gonna adapt and counter the K.O. Punches that I am gonna be throwing at you when that bell rings. Sorry to say, but you’re kinda shit out of luck when it came to who you drew. I may not be fancy, but I’m effective as fuck. The hope that you’re gonna have enough time between think after I hit you with the 360 no scope is silly enough, but thinking this is gonna be a wrestling match, well that’s just dead wrong.

Elena: Hell of a choice of words considered what happened with those four fucks who were chasing us.

DPS: My point is that this isn’t simply about technical acumen. Whatever that wheel draws for us, I assure you it’s gonna more resemble storming the beach at Normandy rather than Gotch versus Hackenschmidt. I know you said you don’t care what kind of match it picks, I promise you that will change the moment you I catch the right hand of the mother fucker who puts down thugs, goons, ninjas, and all other manner of fucks, to the chin and get knocked the hell out. This match is gonna buckets of blood and guts, just the way I like it. And if this little road trip wasn’t proof enough, when it comes to me, there’s no such thing as just a little blood. I’ve drawn more of the crimson than the Red Cross and I don’t plan on slowing down now. Sorry, nothing personal, but this is the kind of shit a man like me was made for. If we were playing baseball, this match would be fastball being pitched right in my wheelhouse, and I am gonna crush that motherfucker like Babe Ruth.

So no I’m not trying to come in to OWA like War Machine, even though your mother calls me her Iron Man. Get ready, because The Boomslayer is gonna be raining down bombs when we go toe to toe. I’m in high gear, and there’s no emergency brake. Kid, you’re gonna find out real soon that they don’t call me Slaughter for nothing pal.

( With that the Camero drives into the sunset.)

Dick P. Slaughter will return in Colorado Joe and the quest for Camelot.

Bob EastWood July 8th 2022, 10:25 pm by **El Landerson**

[after what went down at Final Destination we see Landerson and his Wife and Daughter where hugging there father of him losing his Ultimate X for the Icarus Championship while Hugh Jess stops him]

Hugh Jess: Pardon me Landerson. but last month at Final Destination you lost the match to James Diamond. when he became the new Icarus Champion which is that you will face Bob Osterlund. on Olympus care to explain Mr Landerson.

{OWA Universe cheers for Landerson in the back area}

Bit Luchador|Landerson: last May on Olympus when I was fighting Ryo for his Championship I was inches away form being the next Icarus Champion but until we had that Ultimate X for the Icarus Championship I've seen that James Diamond has won himself an Icarus Champion against all of us including me but that's alright Amigo cause when I beat Bob Osterlund tomorrow then I will get my revenge over James Diamond for his Icarus Championship and I'll even let him pick the stipulation of the match between me and him on the next Olympus at OWA network.

Hugh Jess: and what about Bob Osterlund. does he involves in your life on Olympus.

Bit Luchador|Landerson: Bob Osterlund. he's a great opponent for me but he won't last a day with me in the Olympus ring cause he knows exactly waht to do when I get back inside of that ring and show the hole world what I'm made of and hopefully one day that I can fight James Diamond for his Icarus Championship unless he back down from a fight because I never held a Championship ever since I return back to OWA but this time it's personal and when I am finished with Bob Osterlund. I'm coming straight after James Diamond at the next event of Olympus on OWA.

Hugh Jess: but what if you end up losing to Bob Osterlund on OWA.

Bit Luchador|Landerson: for your information Hugh. that's never going to happen because Bob Osterlund may fight me in a singles match but he won't win the war unless I get what I rightfully deserves and that's me getting a shot for James Diamond Icarus Championship at the event of Olympus on OWA network.

Hugh Jess: can you even defeat Bob Osterlund. this Saturday.

Bit Luchador|Landerson: with that depends on the match gonna be cause I haven't fought Bob Osterlund cause I was to freaking busy with this Ultimate X for the Icarus title at Final Destination and when I get through with Bob Osterlund. James Diamond is the next Amigo on my hit list when he decides to defend his Icarus Championship against me in the Main event of Olympus at OWA.

Bit Luchador|Landerson: Bob Osterlund. I'll being seeing you real soon on Olympus.

(Landerson and Angie n Aaliyah signs out when Hugh Jess continues talking)

Hugh Jess: thanks for the support Landerson. and good luck on Saturday.

Hugh Jess: we hope that Landerson. can win his match over Bob Osterlund. to see who gets the upper victory to get a chance to fight James Diamond at the next event of Olympus for the Icarus Championship on OWA.

[Camera fades when Landerson and Angie and Aaliyah heads straight for the locker room before his match with Bob Osterlund begins tomorrow]

Re: OWA Promos July 8th 2022, 9:56 pm by **Titan**

Silence is the only thing that can be heard in the pitch black darkness taking over at this moment in time. No words of pride could be heard, no speeches of grandiose declarations of championships or the destruction of gods would be discerned through the darkness, only the deafening silence of a once-feared destroyer who had walked through the halls of this promotion of proud wrestlers who deem themselves to be in the same lineage of gods. Visions of the past are made evident with the sight of the last moments when Titan was seen in OWA: Clash of the Titans. Destroyed and brutalized by the false god of destruction, beaten by an imitation of shinigami to the point of unconsciousness, these visions showed the point where Titan was left humiliated. Titan had been forsaken by the destiny of felling the gods which had made mortals such as him suffer in ways they never should have. The denial of assistance in the deliverance from their suffering from, failing to answer the desperate call of a hand to lift them out of their strife, the gods were nothing more in the eyes of Titan than pompous individuals who deserved nothing more than a proper execution by his hand. For if there would be no salvation from any gods to mortals, why would he extend the same mercy unto those same entities maligned with pride? Suddenly, light pierced through the darkness and removed it until the visage of Titan was displayed inside of a room. This was not a living room, a gymnasium, or some random building in a city, but this was a Spartan fighting pit made for gladiators of ancient times. Strewn through this pit were some unlucky individuals who suffered at Titan’s wrath, crawling away as he remained with a stoic, yet bitter expression upon his face. His expression was born out of not only his continued disdain for the gods above and the blind eye they continued to show towards mortals, but to the fate he endured at Clash of the Titans. All of these thoughts ran through his mind and even when accepting an offer to participate in The Dark Kingdom Tournament after he had been brought to the brand of Kingdom, Titan couldn’t shake the thoughts of what he had already faced with failure to conquer them and with a new landscape to inflict his wrath upon, he knew he could not allow the same mistake to happen once again.

It’s been a long time since this place has laid eyes upon The Conqueror of Gods. After facing a man who has claimed himself to be the embodiment of death itself, thrown into this pit that has become my new home and forced to endure the tortures the abyss has put me through, I have been left with my own thoughts as company for me. I was left to ponder upon the thoughts of what had happened in the past, waiting upon the right opportunity to find a path to escape this pit and return into the light of the world, and healing my body from the destruction I endured at Clash of the Titan. I had faced Darkane with every intention of making sure another god had fallen beneath my boot, to create a shattered idol to reveal that these gods you worship are frauds, but my body gave out when my spirit wanted to proceed. When my soul desired to fight even further and create destruction no other man would be able to inflict upon a god, my flesh and bones denied me the chance to make that a reality. I failed myself and I failed those of you because you are now forced to continue your worship of these selfish idols, these disgusting proud men who believe themselves worthy to be called god, but failure will no longer be an option. This time of reflection and training to recreate the engine of destruction I need to be to bring the gods of this world to their knees was simply to get closer to my destiny to be able to help the fellow man. I used this time to rejuvenate myself and strengthen this body to be mightier than it was before at Clash of the Titans to never allow such a result to happen again. My return to The Omega Wrestling Alliance to make sure my fellow man who has been forsaken and left behind by those of divine strength are given the righteous retribution they deserve and to destroy those who stand before me who call themselves a god.

The kings. The outlaws. The queens. The enlightened. Those who claim to be authentic and even those who would call themselves chosen.

I will bring them all to their knees when confronted with their conqueror. The image of divinity they display from themselves will be shattered and broken, leaving them to be left with the truth of their mortality, and know their destruction was delivered by my hands. These deeds are what will bring me to the peak of Mt. Olympus. The destruction of those who would dare to stand in my path, those who would become charlatans to speak this message of fallacies to the world, this will what will be left on my road to reaching the seat at the top of the mountain here for whosoever holds the richest prize of this industry. Once I have reached this zenith and met the god who stands above the rest, the king of gods who holds his crown high to demand tribute and respect for the mere mortals of this world, they will be forced to endure Titan’s wrath and watch the world around him be reduced to rubble from the calamity I bring. The gods have separated me from the riches I needed to make a life for myself, they are the ones who kept me away from my home from the shame I endured in the face of defeat, and I will not return for I have this kingdom of the divine before me to be conquered. My body has been healed and strengthened through ruthless training, my spirit has been restored for the flames of wrath have stoked it, and I have chosen a path to be able to see this destiny become reality once more. Without the influence of Eon Blue or ARYX to be able to temper my rage, to hold me back from the trophies standing before me, I have accepted the invitation to participate in this Dark Kingdom Tournament and bring destruction upon any who stands before my victory to remind the world for who I am.

For Tyler Kulina, the only destiny in store for him in this tournament is to be broken and beaten by The Conqueror of Gods.

Titan changes his expression from a look of bitterness and hatred that can only be assumed to be placed towards the people he calls gods into a somber and morose expression. Walking forward and moving towards what seems to be a training dummy, he places his hand on the top of this training dummy’s head as he shakes his head. It almost seems to be Titan showing sympathy towards the young soul that has decided to participate in this tournament, not knowing the person who would be standing before him, and seems to have wished that this boy wasn’t the person who stood across from him in the ring. Titan looks up towards the skies with this expression still placed upon his face, patting the top of the dummy’s head again, before turning back to face the camera before him.

Tyler Kulina, you may be a prodigy of this sport that has been afforded an opportunity via entry into The Dark Kingdom Tournament to make a name of yourself, but you are about to find out that I’m not someone who you will be able to establish your legacy against. You will find that to stand in the path of a just man and his destiny is like standing between a cleaver and its meat. You… you are like those of the divine before you that do not respect the man who has been chosen to be your first and final opponent in this tournament. You are going to find out why I am Fury Incarnate, why I am The Conqueror of Gods in this match, and survival by the end of the night will be the only solace that you could hope to achieve when presented to me almost in the same vein as tribute to the false gods of this world. You can lie to the world that there is no fear within your heart, you can place a mask of false courage upon your face to feign the truth that hides behind your eyes, but I know the truth. I know the bravest thing you've ever done in your career was not only sign your name to the dotted line of a contract to fight against supernatural entities and fighters of ruthless intent, but to enter into this tournament without knowing what awaited on the other side for you until now. Bravery does not breed intellect for this, however, as you have made a grave mistake. You remain in this tournament after seeing Titan as the man who stands against you on the road to build your legacy, this tournament you intend to make a rite of passage into manhood and be respected by your father, but the issues you have with the man who sired will not be the salvation you need from this match. The determination you possess to make sure you proceed in this tournament to win it all won’t be the deliverance from the destruction you will be made to endure from me when you enter inside the ring. You may have a degree of talent, toughness to an extent, the kind heart of a man willing to sacrifice for his family, but this is not a place known for charity and I will not provide the same mercy to you.

I do not wish to make a young soul such as yourself experience the wrath of Titan, I do not desire to have your family watch as you are broken from the destruction I inflict upon you when we meet in this tournament, but you stand in the path of my destiny and I do not hold charity for those who want to prevent me from achieving it.

Titan places his hands on the featureless cheeks of the wooden training dummy that stands before him, almost as if he is speaking to Tyler himself, squeezing with a death grip of sympathy and rage intertwined with each other.

Tyler, destruction is the only thing that awaits you. The Conqueror of Gods will drag your broken husk and those of any other man who dares to stand against me in this tournament up to the heights of Mt. Olympus. I will force you and the others to make an introduction to whatever god or deity you praise when you are broken before me and when you do? You will serve as my herald to deliver a message that I am coming and that they should know one thing above all else. The Conqueror of Gods has returned, despite the best efforts they have made, and he is a flawless engine of destruction set to be their calamity.

With the strength possessed by a man such as Titan, the grasp he has on the head of this dummy is only broken when the head is shattered within his fingertips. Wooden shards serve as shrapnel to impact the camera behind him, a morose look on his face at the shattered head of this dummy he envisioned as Tyler could almost bring a tear to his eye, but he shows no charity to him. A stoic face returns and the shattered head drops to the ground before the feed cuts there.

Alyssa Grace and Tyler Kulina have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos July 8th 2022, 9:27 pm by **Lazarus Arjen**

It was cold.

It was dark.

One thing we notice from this camera angle is the black sky. Very few stars are noticeable; clouds covered most as they rolled past. We can also see a thin beam of light that stretched horizontally across the entire field of view. But what we didn’t see, we heard.

Crunch.

The crunching of feet walking along dirt and breaking loose sticks.

Drag.

The sound of sheet metal dragging along the ground, as if the pointed tip of a shovel was dragging through the dirt, hitting those aforementioned broken sticks and loose rocks.

Speaking.

“Symbolic.”

The Southern-drawl that we heard from Lazarus Arjen just days ago rings through the otherwise silent backdrop to this weird video we’re being gifted.

“Killing Aizen wasn’t something to ‘get noticed’, it was something that had to be done. It was symbolic; it was to show to you and all of the other simple minds that are housed on Olympus that god’s no longer exist. In fact, quite the opposite. It was a message that said all gods will fall. That all gods will die - and the only thing you will have left in front of you are Devils. The Devil of OWA, the man who figuratively stabbed you all in the back, the man who turned on the entire group of worthless cowards known as the Dynasty. His second in command; the King of Rats. The butcher from the sewer, the depraved derelict, the psychopath that will not hesitate to penetrate all of your vital organs in alphabetical order with my blade. By becoming the God Killer, I illustrated a very grim picture for everyone on Olympus because no one can read between the lines; that picture is to show you that you have now entered the end times.”

And that was when we saw him. He came into view from the right side of the frame, looking directly into the camera that was pointed upward. It was an odd camera angle to say the least.

The Depraved, even in the Ninety-degree weather in Shanghai, China, wore a black hooded sweater with the hood drawn up over his head. Strands of his blonde hair hung in the air loosely as he looked down.

“What I did at Final Destination was meant to do exactly what it did to you, Iwade. It was meant to reach deep into that belly of yours and pull out all of the hate, all of the emotion that you displayed in your last video. It was meant for you, for everyone, to hate what was happening to the environment behind you. I want you to hate me, to hate Jacob Senn; because when you're consumed with unfocused rage - when hate consumes those untrained to harness it - it leads to fatal mistakes. You say you’re ready to die? You say you’re willing to die like a warrior? I doubt it, Iwade. I’ve heard tough talk from men like you; as quick as you are to call me a pussy, to call me a motherfucker, to say that you’re ready for war with the likes of me - they’re just as quick to grovel on their knees while wearing a crimson mask. They’re the ones begging for mercy and praying to their gods.”

“I eliminated one of those options; I’ve killed your god. Now all you can hope for is that I show you mercy, and I can promise you that I have none.”

Those words were cold. His stare was blank and lifeless as he spoke … down.

“You call me a pussy as if that intimidates me. As if I haven’t been called worse by better men. If that’s what you think rattles my cage, then you truly have no idea what you have standing before you, and if you come into my ring with this Warrior bravado of yours, then your failure to capture the championship won’t be the only act of disappointment in front of your family. All of this tough talk, this Ancient Warrior bullshit, is doing nothing but hurting you - if you haven’t pieced that together - and in any other circumstance, against any other opponent, after the inevitable loss you would have no other choice except to practice the Samurai art of Seppuku.”

“But you don’t have to worry about that, Iwade, because I’ll fucking do it for you. I’ll gut you with the same fucking blade that I used on Aizen. It will be the closest you’ll ever be to being a God - having the same blade that killed him penetrating your major organs. You want me to look you in the eye while I penetrate you, while I twist the blade and drag it from groin to sternum? You got it. I’ve never been afraid of watching a man’s life leave his eyes. I’ve never been afraid to feel that final spasm as you desperately try to cling to life because it escapes you through the wounds I create. Aizen didn’t deserve to have that luxury. Aizen deserved to die like a rabid, disease infected dog. You deserve the same, but you asked so nicely - so I’ll do you that solid, Iwade.”

“You’re right, though. Kazuya Iwade will be spoken about for some time following this match, but not for bravery. Not for having the heart of a warrior.”

“You’re going to be remembered for being killed and mutilated on live television. You’re going to be remembered as the victim of the Shanghai Snuff Show. You’re going to be remembered when PIECES OF YOUR BODY ARE RETRIEVED MONTHS LATER IN SOME SECLUDED FIELD JUST LIKE THIS ONE!”

His voice echoed in the night after he stopped. You could hear the intensity in his voice. The focus. The serious tone.

He brought a hand up, pushing the hood off of his head before the other hand emerged. The sheet metal dragging sound before was in fact a shovel as assumed. He drives the pointed end into ground beside him and lowered, kneeling in place.

“But. They will have to dig to find those pieces, Kazuya. I won’t make this easy for your comrades to bury you whole. I won’t make this easy for your family to stomach. I won’t make this easy for the world to forget. The atrocities; the horror that the world is going to witness will be far beyond anything experienced before. And, just like Aizen, what happens to you will be symbolic. Something that further serves as a representation that what was is now over. Further pushing the statement that this is the end for men like you, for men like Darkane. It’s come and gone, Iwade. Times change, and they certainly have begun to shift.”

“It’s going to be a very dark time for the rest of your friends very fucking soon.”

“You, though, won’t make it out of Shanghai alive.”

Lazarus grabbed the shovel with both hands. Pushing it deeper into the Earth before pulling up a pile of dirt. He turned just slightly and dumped it down … onto the camera … into this hole. We have now pieced together that this was a hole dug for this specific reason.

“And this? Yes, Iwade, is symbolic. This is the end. This is your fucking burial. Your’s and the Dynasty’s alike. Jacob Senn; the Goetial King. Alex Carter; the GM of Olympus and myself - the fucking BEAST will see to it that the Dynasty finally meets it’s grim, it’s fucking violent end. This is just the beginning, but for you? It’s already your end…”

More dirt dumped. The camera lens is starting to become covered. Inch by inch. Lazarus wears a wicked, psychotic grin on his face.

“The pain and the suffering has only just begun. Your ‘family’ will feel all of that when they watch your lifeless, mutilated, and dismembered corpse being removed from the ring. You claim it to be your battlefield? It’s war time, bitch - and you’re not built for war with someone like me. You’re not built to withstand the torment, the anguish and the suffering that you will endure very soon; and it will show. You do not have the mental dexterity. You don’t have the pain threshold or tolerance. You are just a boy being led into guaranteed death. You are a calf being led to the slaughter.”

“And that is exactly what this is going to be.”

“A slaughter.”

Another shovel full of dirt dumped and now the camera was fully covered. We’re introduced to a pitch black video, and now even the forthcoming sounds would be muffled - the dirt blocking and covering the built-in microphone. We did, however, hear Lazarus’ final words - distorted, asif added into the video after the fact.

“In the eyes of the world, your death will be gruesome - violent and barbaric. But to me? Your death will be exquisite…”

Alyssa Grace, Darkane, Rebecca Filth and Felix Hartley have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos July 8th 2022, 9:22 pm by **Tyler Kulina**

Kingdom Promo #1

"Fall of the Titans"

Tyler didn't know what to expect when he signed with Omega Wrestling Alliance. The promotion was currently undergoing its recent set of controversies, with one causing him to have second thoughts about signing the dotted line. Maybe HR predicted the hesitancy because the numbers attached to his contract were the most the kid had ever seen. A guaranteed skip of their developmental program was thrown in. Ty was signed to Kingdom, OWA’s flagship show. For anyone else, this would be a dream come true. For Ty, it made taking care of his family that much easier. He had enough to cover rent for the year and the rest he could pocket for himself. Unlike a lot of young men his age, he kept things simple. Sure he loved his Switch and the latest Madden or COD, but he could care less about a fancy car or house. In fact, maybe it was time for him to start house hunting and take his family out of Schenectady. Perhaps they’ll move to Colonie or back to Albany, it depends. But, Ty needed to let those thoughts be answered at another time. Right, he needed to think about his first match: Titan in the first round of the Dark Kingdom.

Despite sitting by himself in a Chinese hotel room, Ty dared not laugh. As much as it sounded like something out of an anime, He needed to treat this as seriously as any fight he got himself into. He grew up brawling all over the Capital Region for one reason or another. Mostly for going to bat for his family and friends. We lived in unstable times, and Ty was always ready to protect what was his. Uncle Steve said he and his father shared that sentiment. His old man had a penchant for trouble, which explained why he ended up doing time, leaving him and his mom alone. He wasn’t angry at his dad, such was life. He took this chance to be able to stand across from him and proved that he didn’t need him all those years. He didn’t need his respect, just his acknowledgment that he was able to hold things down, that from the moment he could walk he was the man of the house. Ty couldn’t explain why this was necessary; he just knew in his soul. The only problem was his father wasn’t going to be around his weekend. Maybe it was a good thing so he’d have complete focus on this match. He wasn’t sure how long he wanted to be in this business, but he knew that being on top meant an easier life in the future.

What made Ty feel uneasy was this whole “promo” bit. Like he was required to address his opponent before the upcoming match? Why couldn’t he just walk in that ring and beat that oversized ogre’s ass? Does he have to “talk” about it first? What the hell!? Tyler didn’t ever talk trash before getting into a fight. He always just swung for the fences and handled business. He remembered Uncle Steve telling him during training that he’d had to adapt to new ideas and think outside the box. But Ty wasn’t like the others. He didn’t need some gimmick or some mystical BS to impress the audience. He wasn’t one to speak from the heart, but if he had to say a few words for some change, then so be it.

Picking up his phone, Ty started to livestream his thoughts to the world.

--------

“I’m not one for poetics or metaphors, but I find it interesting that my first match in Omega Wrestling Alliance is against a human wall. A barrier that towers over the opposition. That's the story of my life, bruh. Y'all don't know much about me, but I've been fighting the opps. since I was in diapers. This Titan fellow? I don't know much about him. The man calls himself a conqueror of Gods, but someone needs yo tell this bozo to put down the controller because this ain't God of War. Kratos ain't got shit on me because when that bell rings I'm going to do what I have to to get the bag, know what I mean?"

(Ty takes out a bag of chips and starts munching)

"There's always some clown who thinks they stand out from the rest of the crowd. I mean I'm not gonna lie, the man looks intimidating as hell. He got muscles on muscles. He got a chest the size of a damn mountain. Guy's got a hundred pounds on me, easy. But that's alright, good people of the internet. Because dudes like him been winning they're whole life. And you know what they say about those who make it to the top? The higher the climb, the longer the fall. Titan probably never got his ass kicked before. He likely doesn't know what it means to lose. Me? I know what it's like to get my ass handed to me. I know what it's like to taste my own blood. I've felt my bones break upon contact. A bloody nose? Every Saturday night, fam. A black eye? I call that a Wednesday Special. There's a oot of people that know how to wrestle, box, grapple, whatever. But amongst those, how many of them know how to actually fight? You could spend your whole life training to be the hardest cat on campus, but it'll all go to waste if you don't know what you're doing. It's like being Homelander - sure you got the Superman powers, but homie you know how to fight? I'm willing to bet these bag of chips that Titan doesn't know how to throw hands. Sure he'll toss me around like a rag doll for half the match, but once I break that nose? He's gonna cry like a bitch? And do you know what we do with bitches where I'm from? We put them to sleep. Rock-a-bye baby, know what I mean?"

(Ty puts down the chips and leans back.)

"Titan…I wonder if his lust for glory is a bottomless pit. There's so many dudes from around my way who get lost in the sauce. They be chasing them waterfalls, man. I even see it here in OWA. It's a revolving door at the bottom. People walk into this place thinking they're going to make it big or a difference. Sometimes you just gotta do it for the bag. Do it cor the bag, take care of yours and call it a day. Titan's probably already lost in the sauce. It's alright because I can knock him into reality."

(Tyler chuckles to himself.)

"it seems like the vibe here is anything goes. I just witnessed the world champion literally die from someone praying on their downfall. And I don't know if it was confirmed, but didn't thst cute blonde chick from the ladies show get executed? It's crazy how the owners aren't in jail for this shit, but hey. I'm getting paid and as long as me and mine are taken care of, I'm going to give Mr. Oasis a reason to keep me around. Besides, I have my own reasons for rocking with this place."

(Ty takes out a can of Dr. Pepper and takes a sip.)

"Mmm, fuel for the soul. After weeks of training and drinking nothing but protein smoothies, there's nothing like a nice sip of Pepper. No, this ain't an advertisement though I'm always open for a sponsor. This is me stating the obvious. I'm not here for the glory, just the bag. I'm not a gangsta but a hustler gets his due just as much as anyone else. You know, I've been thinking. I'm no scholar but I know a little bit of Greek mythology. Well I know enough thst the titans were defeated by the gods of Olympus. Now I'm no god and we're mot fighting on Olympus, but like Zeus did to his ilk thousands of years ago, I'm going to send this bozo back to Tartarus, smoke his pack, and grab some authentic Shanghai cuisine afterwards."

(Tyler takes another sip of his drink.)

"Anywho, I'm not one for long speeches so I'll see y'all Sunday Night when I make my debut and send a message to my co-workers: Ty Kulina ain't no pushover."

-------

After sending his "promo" out into the either, Ty decided to clear his mind with a night run. Despite the hot weather, Kulina wore a light sleeveless hoodie but balanced it out with gum shorts and a pair of Nikes Uncle Steve got him as a gift for signing with OWA. Placing a pair of airpods in his ear, he makes his way through the crowded streets of Shanghai. Steve told him to be on alert in unfamiliar spaces, but Ty wasn't nervous, nor dud he care to take in the sights. Not until his match was over. Hopefully by the next show, the man he's looking for will be in attendance.

Or at least in the same time period.

Jeff X, Alyssa Grace and Felix Hartley have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos July 8th 2022, 10:42 am by **Kazuya Iwade**

“KAZUYA HAS DONE IT! HE’S WON THE ONE PUNCH CONTRACT!”

The image of Kazuya holding the briefcase aloft takes front and center. The loud roar of the crowd still resonates in the mind of The Last Arrow.

“This… This should have been it. I was one step away from realizing my dream. I was one step away from achieving greatness that I had been denied for so long.”

We see Kazuya stepping up against Jacob Senn to challenge for the Immortal Heavyweight Championship. Iwade was stepping up against the man who he called a mentor. A man who he credited for the peak of his career. A man who elevated him to the level that he always strived to be.

“Until… it all came crashing down.”

“JACOB SENN HITS THE ROPES…. SHADOW STEP! HE STOMPS THE HEAD OF KAZUYA INTO THE CANVAS! SENN HOOKS THE LEG!!”

ONNNNNNEEEE!!

TWWOOOOOOOOO!!

THHHHRREEEEEEE!!

“HERE’S YOUR WINNER AND STILL IMMORTAL HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION!!! JAAACOOOB SENNNNNN!!!”

--

“I was so close… So close that I could taste it. I had a chance to walk into my home soil with the biggest prize in the company. Yet… All I could do was watch from the sidelines.”

The scene begins in a dimly lit room with Kazuya Iwade, wearing a fine suit, sitting in front and center of the frame. He remembers the biggest night of his career with a dejected look on his face. And perhaps, his biggest failure.

“Final Destination. It should have been the biggest moment in my career. I had scratched and clawed my way out of the gutters of Sapporo. I put my family’s honor on the line when I ran away from home. I did EVERYTHING in my power to show the world that they were wrong to doubt me. That I could be more than just a Young Lion. I tried and tried… and at every obstacle, I stumbled. I wasn’t getting any closer to my dream no matter how hard I tried. Not until I got my second chance at Strong Style Wrestling. The same company that didn’t see anything in me before-- They were willing to give me a shot at redeeming myself. This was my biggest opportunity yet and I grabbed it by the fucking balls.”
“I took the legendary Jacob Senn to his limits which led to me joining The Dynasty. A group of like-minded wrestling savants that wanted nothing but to prove how good they were. And boy did we do just that. Whether it be SSW or OWA, we never failed to deliver. I was able to win the Grand Japan Championship AND the One Punch Contract in my rookie year. What more could I have asked for? I was so close to achieving everything I set out to achieve-- Until SSW closed its doors indefinitely. For once, everything had come to a halt and it wasn’t a fault of my own. I was livid. I should have been champion right now, I thought to myself. For months on end, I waited. I waited for the chance of redeeming myself in MY country. SSW was and still is my home. But if SSW wouldn’t come knocking, I had to look elsewhere. And there was no better place to be than OWA. The long storied history between the two companies. It only made sense I represented The Dynasty on American Soil. They gave me a chance and helped me grow-- I wouldn’t turn my back on them.”

Kazuya shook his head knowing what came next.

“How naive of me. The man who I saw as my mentor would turn his back on The Dynasty. I had a lot for Jacob Senn and what he accomplished in his career. There are not many better than him. But I have seen plenty of people give in to the vices-- I have seen plenty of people fall into the trap of attaining endless power. Jacob Senn had witnessed what Eon Blue was capable of and thought to himself that he’d rather take that power for his own. The shocking revelation that Project Smile was simply a way for Jacob Senn to get full control over Olympus was sickening. And now, he’d go so far as to strip Elijah’s deserved opportunity from him or have him FIRED. This is not the Jacob Senn I grew to respect. It’s clear that Senn has given in to whoever this higher being is-- And while he may call himself The King. It’s clear that there’s one man that sits higher than him on the totem pole. And the moment Senn doesn’t fit the bill, he will be dealt with. That was made clear by Alex Carter. So, Senn can brag about finally having all the power-- But there’s somebody who even Jacob Senn bends a knee for.”

“How fitting isn’t it? Jacob Senn gave up The Dynasty-- A group he led to be somebody else’s puppet. He may hold the reins to the Kingdom. He may have a golden crown over his head, but the moment that higher entity comes knocking, Jacob Senn will tuck his tail and salute his fucking master. I don’t know about the voices these crazy fucks are talking about and frankly, I don’t care. I had to watch Final Destination from the sidelines as I saw Darkane get dismantled by the higher power of Jacob Senn and his new posse. It fucking hurts to see someone else hold the piece of gold that should have been mine. FD should have been the biggest night of my career. A homecoming of sorts. But all I could do was watch from the sidelines. Watch as people who came after me, rise to prominence.”

Kazuya slams his fist onto the table in front of him.

“The Depraved. The Beast as Senn would put it. Lazarus Arjen emerged from the shadows and drove his dagger into the heart of the ailing God. Aizen never stood a chance. That’s one way to make yourself known. Being labeled the God Killer on your first day is no small feat. You killed an ailing God, blinded by the light of the higher power, by driving a dagger through his back. What a tough guy! For years, I have been taught the ways of the Samurai by my family. It’s the warrior’s way. True warriors NEVER strike from the back. You can strip us of all our armor and piece of clothing-- While our bodies would be full of scars that we’d take to our grave, there will not be a mere scratch on our backs. Only cowards strike from the back. This persona that you portray of an unhinged monster, waiting to cause pain and suffering to the people-- What’s it worth when you can’t even look a man in the eye when you take his life. You fucking pussy!”

“Don’t get it twisted, I am fully aware that you’re a purveyor of violence. Some might even call you the personification of death. You have no care for your own body as you inflict pain on those who stand against you. In fact, you’d willingly kill your opponent if it fits your narrative. There’s something cathartic about the violence that you pursue. Fuck it. I don’t particularly have anything going on for me. If it’s death that you deal with, then I ask you to bring your absolute worst. Show me what you’re made of. Though I have one small request. Don’t be a fucking pussy this time and look me in the fucking eye as you drive the dagger into my heart. I’ll take that with a smile on my face. But know this, I am not going down without a fight. I may have failed to capture the crown that I blindly sought after, but there’s one thing I value more than materialistic success. I have my family’s honor to protect. It’s a Samurai’s honor to die on the battlefield. That way of life has been instilled in me since I was a little kid. Heck, I’ve said it before. The squared circle is my own battlefield. The day I stop wrestling is the day I die. And if that happens to be this coming Friday, then so be it. I will do everything in my power to make sure that people talk about Kazuya Iwade for YEARS to come. If I am dying-- I am taking your ass with me motherfucker.”

“戦士は決して死ぬことはありません。彼らは殉教しています”

As emotions flare, Kazuya gets more passionate by the minute.

“Maybe I am not in the right state of mind. Airi wouldn’t like me talking about death. But I won’t lie to you, I feel broken. No! I haven’t given up. Trust me, I am as motivated as I was before to prove the world wrong. I KNOW that I can be the ACE that I have always wanted to be. I know that I can be the top champion. But what should have been an obvious road to victory-- turned out to be far more tumultuous than I first expected it to be. That is fine. 水に流す. One must always move on. There’s no point delving into the nitty-gritty and thinking of what it could have been. That’s how you fall into the arms of darkness as Senn did. I take that loss in stride and hold my head up high. If I was THAT close before, then I can get back there. I got that opportunity in the first place on my own merit. That means I am capable of being at that level. I will get back there, I promise. But this hurdle… It seems a lot tougher than it was before. The climb to the top isn’t going to be easy. Jacob Senn and his edgy heralds pose a threat to the sanctity of Olympus. They pose a threat to the balance that Aizen had introduced after Graham Baker’s self-indulgent run at the top. Olympus cannot fall into the darkness. And it seems like there’s not a long line of defense in place to hold ‘The King’ back. Darkane was put to the wayside. Noah Reigner has been defeated. Elijah is being held back every step of the way. It seems like the odds are stacked against us.”

“But there’s one man who taught us that family comes first. That we will all put The Dynasty over anything else. While our numbers are dwindling, those values aren’t lost to me. Whether it be Elijah or Darkane-- I don’t care who stands beside me. I will NOT give up on the values that I hold dear to my heart. I will not change my ways to conform to the new standards set by Alex Carter. I will not bend a knee to the terrifying might of Lazarus Arjen. I will not tremble in fear as I face The Goetial King as many assume I would. I chose the Samurai’s way. I chose The Dynasty. And I will see through it till my last fucking breath. Whether that’s this weekend or the next. I am fighting EVERY FUCKING CHANCE I get and I will put these motherfuckers to shame. I don’t care how much stronger they are or how dangerous they can be. I am a man with nothing to lose. And I am going to fight like one as well.”

“Laz. It is the wrong place and wrong time for me. Things have clearly not been right these past few months. I should be champion, but I am not. So, it’s a feeling I am familiar with. I know this is your big debut. You’re expected to send a message to the locker room. Put them on notice. But it won’t happen at my expense. Bring the violence. Bring the carnage. KILL ME! I DARE YOU! But know that if you fail, I will return with vengeance and strike you down like no other. So, you better take my life. That’s what you’ve promised. If you don’t deliver-- You’ve failed on your first big night… デブ.”

Alyssa Grace has spoken. It’s such good shit!

Nosotros prevaleceremos July 8th 2022, 6:44 am by **liver alone**

[ Click. There was a new scene at hand. A scene that would open up on a beautiful breezy day somewhere in the world. The specifics of the location weren't pertinent. Only the fact of the person leaning against his vehicle on camera. And that was the face of Alejandro de Leon himself! He had this grin about himself, this smile he couldn't shake. He was amused more than anything. This was no doubt in response to the man he was scheduled to face off against for the OWA Outlaw Championship. A championship title that Alejandro wished to win more than anything in his debut. Now was his chance, and he had the way to take it. He already saw the cracks and foundations in his opponent. But would it be enough to win? That was the million-dollar question as Alejandro stood there. However, the silence would soon be filled with the voice of Alejandro as he went to speak whislt wagging his right index finger at the camera. ]

OWA Promos - Page 3 OWex1sK

"En Serio, Sir DT? Was that it? Was that truly all? If so, I have to say that I'm terribly embarrassed for you. Embarrassed for this company that you are one of the chosen avatars to represent them. I mean, did you hear yourself speaking when you should have been enjoying a nice meal? Did you once ever stop to question how foolish you would look? This rookie, this newbie, as you say... has you in flux. You're hot, you're enraged, Alejandro got underneath your skin, did he not? When he asked this question, Alejandro could not help but throw that smug grin on as he shook his head. Basura. That's all you happen to be to me, Sir DT. You're nothing more than plain garbage. And I don't say this because of your skill. I'm sure you try your best. I'm sure you try your damndest. But to see you sitting there, fancy, this more than person. Yet... flustered by little ole Alejandro? You find yourself attacking my character, attacking my people, my homeland. You find yourself crossing some very fine lines to prove you're tough. But at the end of the day, all you do is expose your insecurities, ese. All you do is prove that Alejandro belongs in this fight. You prove that Alejandro actually stands a chance, and that's the part that frightens you, ese. Isn't it? Alejandro pretended as if he was waiting on an answer. But he knew damn well there wouldn't be one, not where he was and just let out a peal of laughter before continuing on. Because you now realize that maybe... just maybe I belong in your place and you belong at the back of the line. I mean, you're bringing up things that make no sense. You're comparing to me Johnny Who? What are you talking about? Lil Wayne? Rappers? This isn't the breakfast club or whatever your people like to entertain themselves with. This is the squared circle and what we talk about is the squared circle. I am no one but Alejandro de Leon, the future holder of the OWA Outlaw Championship. Do not stand to disrespect me over something as trivial as hurt feelings, DT. It's okay, I promise you, you'll bounce back. You can go after whatever you wish. Any other championship would be yours! Bu as it pertains to the Outlaw Championship? No. Nada. Never. Because as long as I hold it. And trust my word, I will hold that championship. But when I do? You will never be champion as long as I remain the one in position. A slight shrug of his shoulders as he lowered his eyes about ten percent for a light squint. Do you not yet realize the mess you have made? Are you so eager to continue to walk yourself into sure destruction? Because I promise you, all those words you speak, that's all they'll ever amount to. Simply pissing me off and ensuring that the end of your reign... is the beginning of my glory."

[ He scoffed, bringing that smile back to his face again. His arms folded up, shaking his head before continuing on. ]

"Tsk, Tsk, DT. I tried to engage in a civil yet logical manner. I only spoke the truth and nothing but. Alejandro is no liar. I speak on what I see, what I know. But now? Now, I feel obligated to slay the proverbial dragon. You claim asinine falsities that don't even make sense when one focuses. You claim your superiority is over egotism. But what is superirotiy if not rooted in ego? You believe yourself my better just as I yours. And what does that mean? That two men hold themselves to a standard that they must rise to every time. As a champion. I thought you'd understand this. But clearly, that championship holds you, you claim no dominion over it. And that much, hermano, is proven tried and true. A small wink was given to the camera before he reopened his mouth to continue onward with his little rant/explanation. And then I hear you calling yourself a hungry lion. You believe I'm rattling the cage or whatever you would say to uplift yourself. I'd start with, one, you've already belittled yourself even believing yourself to be in any cage. Proverbial or otherwise, your mind is locked in a battle against itself. And two, a hungry lion is still hungry. That means it hasn't eaten in days. And when that happens, a lion is susceptible to being killed by anything. A hungry lion becomes prey the day it announces it's hungry. The giraffe, the buffalo, the kudu, snakes, and even porcupines all find themselves a victor over the lion at some point or another. And it's because the other creatures like myself are smarter. Now, I apologize for the crass comment on your head, my friend. My choice... He'd provide another asshole grin look to the camera as if he were some makeshift Jim Halpert from The Office before continuing on. But you are nothing more than a muscle-headed buffoon, pardon my language. Just another brute with a few cute choice words, nothing of substance. You're simply all Flash and I'm afraid to tell you, ese, no one cares what you have to say. No one respects what you have to say because they know you don't belong. They know Alejandro belongs, you know Alejandro belongs. Soon, the world will know Alejandro belongs! And it is that very fact that frightens you to your core, is it not? That some upstart would come in, snatch your livelihood, your most worked for. And leave you on the side of the road, thumb up, begging your so-called underlings for a ride. DT, enough is enough. Alejandro scoffed, shook his head, and just leaned back a bit. The difference between you and I, hermano, is that I do not need this month, that month. I don't need to climb, I don't need to wait. I am championship material whether you like it or not. Whether your friends like it or not. Whether your underlings like it or not. And those, right there, those are nothing but the facts at hand. So, DT. Know that everything you say is meaningless. Everything you've done is meaningless. It's all in the past, it's all been prior to this. But we are professional wrestlers. We do not live in the past. We strive for the future! The next event, the next show, the next bout! We go where the next thrill is! Do not ever fix those poor lips, drinking that bottom shelf wine, to ever come for me ever again."

"I mean, you speak of world championships won in the past. I've asked around, DT. You didn't win them here, that's for sure. You didn't prove yourself here and that's where we are DT. We are living in the now, I am in the now, this title opportunity? We're living in this moment right now. I don't care about where you've come from, where you're going, none of it. I only care about the task at hand each and every week. And the task at hand this week just so happens to be obtaining what's rightfully mine. There will be no games played. There will be no strength wasted, no blood checked, no fists unthrown. I aim to break you mentally, physically, and spiritually. I aim to show you what a real-life prodigy looks like. Because while you may be a good wrestler, DT. I am absolutely magnificent. I've been running circles around talent for years and that's why I'm here now. That's why I'm being offered an opportunity here... immediately. He was pointing down, but not speaking specifically about where he was standing. Because in every medium, it is I who prevails. You name it, I've prevailed. And this time will be no different. So go ahead, spew your words. Drink your dry-ass champagne, continue to live in your American excess and I will surely be the man who walks out with the championship gold around my waist. Because I am the only one with the true champion's composure. And you? Welll, ehh. He shrugged those shoulders and then waved his hand back and forth slightly, signifying how it was really iffy. As I said DT, you attempt to talk the talk. I am the talk. You attempt to walk the walk. I am the walk. You, are a mere rugrat to me in terms of skill. I will learn nothing nor will I gain anything from having faced you. Even in defeat, you will only have proven that luck does indeed strike twice. But I ensure you, it will take an act of God to pry my destiny from my hands. I will throw everything Alejandro has to throw at you and then some! And I will represent Mi Familia, the one true members of The Cartel. Whilst you, DT, will regale the world and showcase that your initials actually stand for 'Doesn't Think'. Because you don't, and that's why I have already won. Alejandro pushed himself up off of the car and turned to open the door. He stepped inside and would situate himself in the driver's seat before starting the car. He'd roll his window down now, staring out at the camera for one final speech. You once falsely accused me of being too short to box with God. But you are no God, ese. You don't even know if you want to wear a suit, be a hungry lion, perhaps become a deity? You don't! All you've done is repeat what I've said. Maybe you'll learn Spanish and translate it someday, Mr. Businessman. We know the heavenly court shifts in my favor. It's why I say what I say and move how I move. Now once more, with feeling, I'll tell you without a doubt in my mind?"

[ And that was that. The moment he finished was the moment he laughed and sped off into the distance, the scene fades to black. ]

Alyssa Grace and DT The Ruler have spoken. It’s such good shit!

OWA Promos - Page 3 00a8af0857a753a37839047f6b9f9ee7

I’d love to say new season, new me, but the most accurate description is New Game+.

This was supposed to be my celebration. I’d have a parade down Woodward ave. Sitting in the Little Caesar’s arena, the camera would pan to show Drago Santiago, smilin’ and waving, while holding a championship that was hot and ready. The division had a me-sized gap dead center, right in the ten range, begging for me to fill it. If the Clash was my Homecoming, Final Destination was supposed to be Late Registration.

Alas, destiny is a coping mechanism.

Another blemish on my reputation, with a corresponding scarlet S on my chest. I’d say I died in the ring, but don’t get it twisted. Death of the flesh is an escape, as penance requires suffering. There are some who refer to it as psychic death. Others call it the death of self. Then there are the smart ones, who don’t give it a name, because to give it a name means to acknowledge it as real.

Ego Death - the shattering of self.

“Drago Santiago. Good enough to be here, but not good enough to get it done when it counts. Looks like we found the next Ryo Sakazaki, ladies and gentlemen.” Corey Matthis could mock me, insult me, hate me, harangue me, or use any other tool in his sadistic swiss army knife, but a grain of disappointment in his tone makes my stomach drop.

It’s the curse of longevity - it makes you feel entitled to shit. To me, Drago Santiago is the culmination of every grapple, every strike, and every submission I’ve used since learnin’ the difference between an americana and a kimura. Many on Olympus treat me as a man with two strikes on the record, who surprised everyone in the Clash, has wins under his belt, but has nothing to show for it. This incongruence offended me, yet my mistake proved them right.

My ego got the best of me. I was laid out in the ring, left to look up at the lights and the man taking the prize built in my image. Diamond put in the work. I didn’t. Staring into an abyss, I yelled ‘fuck leveling the playing field. Fighting in foreign waters only proved the competence of my sea legs. My fighting style is an extension of my philosophy, and all I wanted was to prove myself as the best cage fighter and the best mat wrestler, no matter the contest. Meet me in a battle where the goal is to put your opposition horizontal. You’re a warrior, but against Sun Tzu, you’ll son who?’

Its’ 191 days.

I put pen to paper drunk off eggnog and high off mistletoe, with Charlie Brown Christmas specials on repeat.

Still here, 191 days later.

Still never been pinned.

Still never been submitted.

What has it gotten me?

For starters, how’s about a call from a father figure who picked up this gutter trash with nothing more than a chin made of stone and an attitude made of spit and vinegar, blowing up my line after watching the match?. He knows I’m alright - but when I was less level headed, I’d be looking for whatever substance I could get my hands on and asking for another lump, because my pride wouldn’t allow me to show my pain.

On my way backstage after the match, fire coursed up my spine, and I’m strong enough to admit a moment of weakness. My mind went to some dark places, and I almost asked for something to soothe the pain. I couldn’t face my students the next day. Grin and bear it, grin and fuckin’ bear it, I said to myself on a loop, because I’d always practice what I preach, because to show weakness is to ask permission to draw breath. It’s deeper than sour grapes over an L.

Look at this face and tell me you can’t tell it’s been kicked into tatters more times than I can remember; you can’t. I’ve got more fake teeth than I’m proud of, and enough body parts repaired by metal to make a bodycheck after the metal detector goes off at the airport turn into a mcFuckin’ strip search. Losing means little to my philosophy of fighting - to catastrophize is to join a career death cult. We are not the sum of our lowest moments, but I’d GLADLY lose a soccer match badly enough to be spared by mercy rule, if the other option was to lose by one own-goal. I refuse to trip over my own feet again.

Rich.

Ryo.

I genuinely wish we could’ve had this match under any other circumstances. Momentum is everything in this industry. I want my redemption - even if it comes at the cost of yours. Desperation drives action. I understand the jumpiness begging you to spring into action when you hear someone teeheeing like a schoolgirl while making eye contact with you in the lockerroom or in the halls backstage, because a fleeting thought tells you that you’re the butt of their joke. I understand what it’s like to see the younger, bright-eyed and bushy tailed talent, eyeing you down from afar, because they’re ready for their turn, even if it costs you yours.

Speaking of hunger…

Ryo, when familiarizing myself with you a few months ago, I’d have called you everything under the sun other than what your mother named you. At the time, if you were thought to be a wrestler, then I suppose a turtle trying to tug its head from a loop on a six-pack plastic could be a five-star classic. Have you ever heard of the Chameleon Effect? It’s the name given to the phenomenon of humans imitating the accents and mannerisms of those we’re around, on an unconscious level.

After reviewing enough of your work and seeing this Chameleon Effect in action, I had to ask: who are you surrounding yourself with that has Alzheimers?

You had the catalog of MIMS with the ego of Mike Jack. Hell - I would've said you have the charisma of the south bound end of a northbound cow. But if nothing else, you are consistent, and to be honest, I like this desperate streak on you. You’ve got an honest to god win over Corey Matthis to your name. On any given night, you might be able to beat anyone.

Our differences reside in our responses to pressure. Your desperation makes you unpredictable and prone to risk taking or lashing out. My desperation makes me calm down and pay attention, because before I am anything else, I am clever. The only thing more frustrating than not being able to grasp a championship, is probably to win it, but have it stripped away from you on the first defense.

Turn your King James bible to Luke, chapter 15, verse 7.“I say unto you, that likewise joy shall be in heaven over one sinner that repenteth, more than over ninety and nine just persons, which need no repentance.” Too inaccessible? I’ll flip my hat backwards and slouch on my chair, so you know I’m being a cool pastor. Let’s try that again. Grab your Extreme teen bible, and check it out. There’s more to celebrate in a person returning to their path of enlightenment, than there is of ninety nine others who have always been perfect, continuing to be perfect. I won’t savage you for the number in your loss column, because at the end of the day, you suck that shit up and keep it moving like a man should. My concern lies in your refusal to learn or grow from a loss, because to accept your ego death is a blow your pride can’t take. Whoever was surprised at your move for the Icarus belt clearly hadn’t been tuning in - show after show, loss after loss, you’ve never accepted your defeats. How could you learn from them? When polls display fan favorites, you search for any evidence of bias. When presented with evidence of your losses as the referee’s hand slaps three, you don your red hat, demanding he stop the count.

Juxtaposed to me, we're in similar situations, yet worlds apart.

When another Olympus card is released, where my only opportunities are presented in a match where I’m out-numbered and skill doesn’t matter, I grin.

When met with another person attacking me from behind or joining commentary to do the obvious, I grin.

I’ve yet to trespass in Olympus, but they’ve freed me. Any expectations of this uncanny veteran have been tossed away. This is the illusion of choice, and behind each door is negative reinforcement. They forced a Michigan Wolverine into a corner, and the only way out isn’t around you, it’s through you. In the parking lot, in the concession stands, during a piss break, I’m freed from this reputation of being above the bullshit, so now I am ecstatic to join you all in the muck. Punishment for taking matters into my own hands can’t be any more grueling than my treatment on a regular basis, so instead of cursing those who throw rocks at me, I thank them for showing their hands, then adjust accordingly.

Rich, I don’t expect you to listen to a word I’m going to say. After all, if you’re here to bring the motherfuckin’ ruckus, why would you? From your perspective, what business does a member of the Wu-Tang clan have with a Beastie boy?

Your presence in records can’t compare to watching you in action. Runnin’ shit in ALPHA, standin’ toe to toe in the God of War finals, and getting the kinda’ finish that only happens in video games with Baker? Shit, it ain’t often I meet someone willing to stand in the center of the ring and go blow for blow until someone’s horizontal. 1805 are the most dangerous numbers in Omega - but from those fans of ALPHA, to the hairs on the back of Baker’s neck, the message is clear - avoid the GATSPLEX. If I set the parallels aside of coming in to pomp and circumstance and getting fuck-all since, I see why arsenic looks as toxic as milk compared to Baker’s tone when talking about you.

You are relentless and unstoppable in your comfort zone, but don't loom so tal on your back leg. Men with your size and stature get used to doing what they want and watching others do their best to deal with it. It's comfortable. Shit, you wear it on your sleeve - you surround yourself with the same boys you always have, you debut on Olympus and pick fights with the same people you always have. Those who have shared a ring with you, look at you differently, Gats. But faced with a new threat, you get someone either dumb or ignorant enough to dive into the pool, head first, and whenever you leave emptyhanded, it’s because someone decided to keep the same energy.

Ryo, you’re strong.

Gats? I ain’t gotta tell you something you already know.

But I’m fuckin’ different. I’m cunning, I’m precise, and in the ring, looking away from me is a death sentence. All the styles heading into this match couldn’t be more different if we tried, so anyone making predictions is la coyote on peyote. Still, I’d put my money on the person most committed to turning their shortcomings into something meaningful. You’d probably want to bet on the person most likely to end the match in less than three seconds. Trust me; in a dogfight, you’ll get your Maruchan """"Beef"""" dinner upgraded to Wagyu bettin’ on the dog whose instinct is to go directly for the throat.

If eyes are windows into the soul, the gazes of those who question our potential speaks volumes. .When I look into the eyes of my opponents, I see mirrors. Unfortunately, I’m giving them both seven years of bad luck.

Alyssa Grace, DT The Ruler and Felix Hartley have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos July 8th 2022, 4:47 am by **PAZ**

Failure. If there’s one thing Rich Gatsby has a lack of experience in his first few years in this sport, it was this. He found success early and often. He was on a tear in his rookie season, winning accolades after accolades, lengthy championship reigns, and facing some of the best professional wrestling had to offer. It wasn’t until he branched out of his comfort zone that the moments of success began to dwindle.

There was ALPHA, then there was Omega. There were talks of not if, but when was Rich Gatsby going to join Omega Wrestling Alliance. Soon after the brief closure of his home company, Rich Gatsby found another place for him to sharpen his ax. However, his tenure in OWA was not exactly what he envisioned. THAT MAN went straight into a war against former rival Graham Baker, in which the two fought themselves to a draw. Next, he shot his shot against then Immortal Heavyweight Champion, Noah Reigner. And despite his best efforts, Big GAT couldn’t put The Assault Rifle down.

Then, a win over Ryo Sakazaki and Nate Cage got him into the God of War finals against Elijah Hampton. The momentum he built in the matches against Sakazaki and Cage came crashing down. The Smooth Operator got the victory over The Juggernaut and once again Rich Gatsby was left in the dust.

Gatsby wasn’t prepared for failure. He wasn’t built for it. And the frustration of not being able to get his feet under him in OWA began to weigh heavy on him. It was safe to say that Rich Gatsby was in a funk. He knew it, and no matter how much he wanted to get out of it, he just couldn’t.

Any momentum he had going into OWA came to a screeching halt. Rich Gatsby found himself off of the Season 5 premiere. A ticket wasn’t even booked for him to attend and he was left to watch his contemporaries on television rather than be at The Shining Jewel in Saudi Arabia.

Something had to change. Or else what is he doing?

*****

Rich traced the rim of the glass with his index finger as he sat at the bar inside of a restaurant in LAX. His flight to China was leaving in a couple hours, so he had time to kill. He wasn’t in the mood to drink, but bought one anyway. He enjoyed his whiskey neat, and the bourbon was the best it could be inside the LAX bar.

It wasn’t the same bartender that Rich was used to. John would know exactly what Rich wanted before he even sat down. That tends to happen when you have flights weekly because of your profession. Nonetheless, John wasn’t there and someone new was in his place. Not one he’s ever seen before. As he took his last swig, he attempted to get the man’s attention.

“Yo, my man…”

The place wasn’t busy, not this time of the week, however, the bartender was preoccupied with a few ladies on the opposite side of the bar. He overheard them going to Cancun for a bachelorette party. From the looks of things, it seemed like the bartender wanted to join in, too.

Gatsby tried to get the man’s attention once more. “Yo, can I get another drink?”

Nothing.

Gatsby began to get annoyed. The man’s back was completely turned as if Gatsby didn’t exist. In his place were shiny new pieces. John and Rich? They’d have conversations for hours while Gatsby waited for his flight. John loved talking to Rich and Rich enjoyed the company. But this wasn’t John. This man cared more about the bachelorettes than him. Who cared about Rich? He’s not the shiny new piece. He’s old news.

“YO, MUH’FUCKA I SAID CAN I GET ANOTHER FUCKIN’ DRINK!”

The room grew silent. Eyes were glued on Rich like white on rice. Rich was embarrassed, upset, angry. He saw a few TSA members from down the way eyeing him, as well. Rich raised his hands up apologetically. “My bad. Forget about it.” He placed a fifty-dollar bill on the counter and stood up. As he walked toward his terminal, he shook his head in shame.

All he wanted was attention.

*****

Rich walked around for half an hour, looking for a perfect spot to record himself. China was full of life this evening, but Rich wanted none of it. He found an alley between a restaurant and a club and made his way to a secluded area. He set his phone down and pressed record.

● REC

“China, we out here,” Gatsby forced a smile on his face. “We been out here for a minute, tryna figure out the deal, y’all. Shit’s poppin’ ‘n’ we just getting started here in Omega Wrestling Alliance. Now, ya boy wasn’t booked for the Season Five Premiere, but that’s okay. I know that OWA has a very talented roster, of which I’m damn proud to be a part of. I ain’t mad at y’all cuz now we here in China, ‘n’ I got light work against a couple of guys who have no earthly idea what they signed up for,” said Gatsby.

“I see what’s goin’ on though. I know there’s a situation between James Diamond ‘n’ Ryo Sakazki ‘n’ somehow I’m being put in the middle of it,” Gatsby pinched the bridge of his nose. “Maybe it’s cuz I beat Ryo’s ass a few weeks back in the God of War tournament. Maybe it’s because I’m lined up for that Icarus Championship. Or maybe, just maybe, y’all ain’t know what to do with Big GAT,” Gatsby raised his hands up to his sides. “Y’all know how I fuck wit’ it. Y’all know I bring the fuckin’ ruckus everywhere I go, but this shit right here? Me comin’ up short when it matters the most? This ain’t me, homie. This ain’t been me for a long ass fuckin’ time,” admitted Gatsby. He took a moment to recollect himself. “So maybe this match finna be my chance at redemption. Maybe this match gets me back to where I want to be. Cuz fightin’ muh’fuckas like Ryo Sakazaki again ‘n’ Drago Santiago ain’t it.”

That realization struck a nerve for Gatsby. “Y’all know my fuckin’ resume, now I’m stuck doin’ this shit? Nah, old Gat would’ve lied to y’all ‘n’ said “This be a great opportunity to prove myself here in OWA” but we ain’t old Gat, fam! You see a homie of my caliber ‘n’ you stick me in a match against a guy like Drago Santiago? Like Ryo Sakazaki? AGAIN!?” Gatsby snarled. “Nah, this ain’t Big GAT bein’ thankful for an opportunity. This is Big GAT pissed the fuck off! I ain’t comin’ to all the way to China to give y’all a good, competitive match. Nah! Hell fuckin’ nah! The Gat you ‘bout to see in that ring finna straight up MURDER these dudes. I’ma do James Diamond a fuckin’ favor ‘n’ ERADICATE Ryo Sakazaki. Matter of fact, I hope that muh’fucka watches closely. Because if I get a shot at that Icarus Title, I guarantee I’m Gatsplexing my way to gettin’ that strap around my waist.”

“Y’all muh’fuckas takin’ me for granted out here, swear to god, man. I ain’t seen Drago Santiago in a minute, yet he comin’ back for this ass-whoopin’, I’ll tell ya that much. Drago, maybe you was banged up after that Ultimate X match, maybe you was ashamed of your showin’. I’ll tell you somethin’, Drago. When Elijah Hampton beat me in the God of War Finals, I fuckin’ hated myself for a while. I walked to the back, thinkin’ about the mistakes I made. I got on that plane ‘n’ flew home, watchin’ that same fuckin’ match, over ‘n’ over ‘n’ over again. Elijah deserves his flowers. He took on The Juggernaut ‘n’ survived. But after that match? I wanted nothing more than to run it back. I wanted nothing more than to get back in that ring and fight. Because, shit, 2022 ain’t been too kind to me. Every single time I had an opportunity to be back on the top of the world, someone knocked me down. Championship match after Championship match. Tournament after tournament. All I’ve been doin’ has been catchin’ fuckin’ Ls on the weekly, ” Gatsby sighed. He continued to talk, mostly to himself instead of the camera. “Something gotta change, man. I used to walk around this business ‘n’ everybody knew about me. I was turnin’ heads wit’ the shit I was doin’. Shit, ask around about me. Now I can’t even turn one single head. Ain’t nobody carin’ ‘bout the shit I’m doin’, cuz I ain’t doin’ shit.”

“But that changes. That changes once I step into that fuckin’ ring against Ryo and Drago. I ain’t out there tryna impress anybody. Not anymore. I’m steppin’ in that ring to fuck shit up and show the whole gat-damn world just who the fuck Rich muh’fuckin’ Gatsby is. I hope y’all understand that I ain’t comin’ to play no fuckin’ games, on god. Fuckin’ sick of losin’. Fuckin’ sick of bein’ overlooked. Shit needs to change around here or else what the fuck am I doin’?”

There’s a hint of self-doubt that’s slowly making itself known in Gatsby’s speech. The losses continued to pile up, with those loses comes frustration. And frustration leads to unwise decisions. He wasn’t sure what’s happened to him, but he’ll be damned if he catches another L to these two.

“I’m takin’ that dub from y’all. Ain’t no question about it. If you want to step up and test me? By all fuckin’ means. I’m done bein’ taken for granted. I want the best y’all got. Give me the Jacob Senns. Give me the James Diamonds. I’ma prove to y’all I ain’t no fuckin’ fluke. I’ma prove to y’all that I can hang in OWA if that’s the last fuckin’ thing I do.”

“Ryo Sakazaki…. Drago Santiago….”

Alyssa Grace, DT The Ruler and Felix Hartley have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Attack of the Killer Kalisi July 7th 2022, 11:24 pm by **liver alone**

A scene would open up in what appeared to be some type of dungeon. While the background couldn't necessarily be made out, one person was clear as day. That person was none other than Killer Kalisi, a member of a deep-bloodlined Samoan family. As a member of the Mauga bloodline, Kalisi's whole purpose was to fight for her tribe. To put on for her people where others could not. And now, that's exactly what she was planning on doing in OWA. Kalisi could be seen with a hoodie on over her head. When the signal went up that the cameras were rolling, all she could do was smile.

"You know something, it's funny, I think. That the people in OWA would think so less of me, that they hand me scraps at the beginning of my run. But, you know what? As my cousin Hunter Moso says, it is what it is. Because if I have to put on by running over someone else? Hell, so be it. I mean, let's be honest with ourselves, Izumi? Whatever your name is? You're running on borrowed time. I don't care about your histories, backstories, where you're from, or where you're going. All Kalisi cares about is the fight and the thrill it brings almost every single goddamn time. And you want to know something? I'm addicted to that thrill. I'm obsessed with pushing forward and beating my opponent one step at a time. Now, I do feel for you, Izumi. You're a new girl in the pond, too. I wouldn't want to hurt you bad, sweetheart, but I didn't come over here to shake hands and take it easy. I came over here to wreck shit and earn what I need to earn for a living. Do I come off a little rude? Yes. Will I come off a little crass? Abso-fucking-lutely. But, hear me out, little one. It's the way it has to be. It's the natural order of things, don't you see? You equal the prey and I'm the mother fucking predator, you hear me?"

Kalisi cracked her knuckles, moving in place, her body just wouldn't rest. She could feel the fight on her hands, the fight was upcoming. It wasn't the only one on her schedule, but it was the first of the first. And that meant everything.

"Now I heard you say one thing right about me. I heard it through the grapevine. You say I'm powerful, yeah? I'm strong and whatnot. But sweetie, you haven't seen strong. You've seen the aesthetic. You've seen the outer look, you've seen what you've made up in your head. But I promise you, everything you've ever thought pales in comparison to the bitch I actually am. Because when we come into that ring? It's pound for pound, blow for blow, I'm not wasting any smoke! We're getting real, raw, and thoroughbred with it, my G. And I'm going to show you how the family gets down. I'm going to show you how the Mauga rolls, how the Samoan people rise. And you, Izumi, will be nothing more than an afterthought. You'll be the girl people point at and go: 'oh yeah, didn't she lose to the future Women's Champion. The future OWA Hall of Famer?' And they'd be right, Little ZuZu, they'd be oh so right! Because that's who you are. Your fate is sealed, shut, stored and the key is thrown away! The monster has awakened, Kalisi has awakened, and it's gonna take more than some bright-eyed peer of mine to stop this flow. Because I will win. I will move on. And I will showcase that there is none greater... than I."

Jeff X, Alyssa Grace, DT The Ruler and Krysis have spoken. It’s such good shit!

OWA Promos - Page 3 FelixPosterWithTitle

c o l l e c t i b l e o p e n w e i g h t e d i t i o n

The scene opens to an unknown location, the room illuminated with a bright red glowing light. In the middle of the room there is an altar and on top of the altar lies a naked blonde. Her body is covered in blood from head to toe, the blood making her skin look like silk with the way the candlelight reflects off of it. On the wall behind her is a black curtain with a white pentagram on it as well as the Sigil of Baphomet. The camera pans out to reveal that there are rows and rows of congregants sitting in pews, silently observing the stretched out, nude and bloodied blonde. Among some of them, whispers of incantations can be heard.

A man dressed in an all black hooded robe is facing away from her, he’s holding both a chalice and an artifact while lighting candles that surround the blonde. In total there are six men and one woman draped in black and hooded robes around her: the priest and his deacon, subdeacon and additional assistants. The woman was dressed as a nun.

Upon further inspection, we can see that along the altar behind the woman, directly in the middle of the candles and artifacts, hangs the Openweight Championship. The woman on the altar is Felix Hartley. One of the men leaned down and whispered in her ear. At his instruction, she spreads her legs, hanging one off of each side of the altar. The congregants watch in awe as the assistants prepare her, spreading her arms out in a cross position and place a candle holder in each hand. The priest takes the chalice and places it between Felix’s legs.

Crash. The head-splitting sound of a gong. The priest approaches the altar with the deacon and subdeacons.

“In nomine Magni Dei Nostri Satanas. Introibo ad altare Domini Inferi.”

“Ad eum qui laefificat meum.”

“Adjutorium nostrum in nomine Domini Inferi.”

“Qui regit terram.”

“Before the mighty and ineffable Prince of Darkness, and in the presence of all the dread demons of the Pit, and this assembled company, I acknowledge and confess my past error. Renouncing all past allegiances, I proclaim that Satan-Lucifer rules the earth, and I ratify and renew my promise to recognize and honor Him in all things, without reservation, desiring in return His manifold assistance in the successful completion of my endeavors and the fulfillment of my desires. I call upon you, my Brother, to bear witness and to do likewise.”

“Before the mighty and ineffable Prince of Darkness, and in the presence of all the dread demons in the Pit, and this assembled company, we acknowledge and confess our past error. Renouncing all past allegiances, we proclaim that Satan-Lucifer rules the earth, and we ratify and renew our promise to recognize and honor Him in all things, without reservation, desiring in return His manifold assistance in the successful completion of our endeavors and the fulfillment of our desires. We call upon you, His liege-man and priest, to receive this pledge in His name.”

“Domine Satanas, tu conversus vivificabis nos.”

“Et plebs tua laetabitur in te.”

“Ostende nobis, Domine Satanas, potentiam tuam.”

“Et beneficium tuum da nobis.”

“Domine Satanas, exaudi meam.”

“Et clamor meus ad te veniat.”

“Dominus Inferus vobiscum.”

“Et cum tuo.”

“Gloria Deo, Domino Inferi, et in terra vita hominibus fortibus. Laudamus te, benedicimus te, adoramus te, glorificamus te, gratias agimus tibi propter magnam potentiam tuam: Domine Satanas, Rex Inferus, Imperator omnipotens.”

The Offering

The priest takes the chalice and raises it to Felix’s naked breasts, raising it in the air. He then places the chalice back down between Felix’s legs and with palms down, hovers over her naked body.

“Come, O Mighty Lord of Darkness, and look favorably on this sacrifice which we have prepared in thy name.”

Salve! Salve! Salve!

The priest prepares a chalice filled to the brim with sacrificial blood. He then picks up the Openweight Championship that hands behind him as his assistants hold it up in the air above Felix’s body vertically. The priest then raises his chalice of blood to the very top of the Openweight belt and slowly tips it so that the blood of the sacrificed runs down the belt. The blood begins filling the inscripted letters before overflowing and dripping down onto Felix’s body. A dark grin washes over her face as she instinctively holds her tongue out, catching some of the blood in her mouth. As the blood continues to drip down the belt and onto Felix, the assistants and the nun begin running their hands all over her body, covering her in a fresh layer of sacrifice. The priest continues.

“O Mighty and terrible Lord of Darkness, we entreat You that You receive and accept this sacrifice, which we offer to You on behalf of Felicia, upon whom You have set Your mark, that You may make her proper in fullness and length of life, under Thy protection, and may cause her to go forth at Your bidding, for the fulfillment of her desires and the destruction of her enemies. In concert this night we ask Thy unfailing assistance in this particular need. In the unity of the unholy fellowship we praise and honor first Thee Lucifer, and all of the nameless and formless ones, the mighty and innumerable hosts of Hell, by whose assistance may she be strengthened in mind, body and will.”

Shemhamforash!

Gong.

“It is done.”

____________________________

“One thing I love about myself - and it’s a long list - is the ability to piss a lot of people off simply by opening my mouth.

Knowing that there will never be another time that Devi Krysis wrestles again where she isn’t plagued by her loss at Final Destination because of me. Knowing that every time she gets in the ring she has to deal with that soul-crushing blow.

Knowing that I’ve obviously also got the attention of Yuna Kurosawa who’s big mad because the Thotyssey revolution has been in high gear since my debut. She can’t stand that people don’t TaKe ThE SpoRt SeRiOuSLy and it’s like, it’s not my fault that Yuna’s obviously one of those kids that had to try extra hard in school just to get the same grade the other kids got just by showing up. It’s giving ‘My teacher had to pull me aside after class to see if my ~gift~ was me not applying myself or if I needed a modified math test’. Sit down, Yuna - and if I catch you putting me in the same category as Marie and Angelina again I’ll personally make sure Yu Na breathing anymore.

Marie, you’re lost. For someone who should be able to see the future or whatever you sure can’t seem to find your little silver thread back to this astral plane. Out of all the realities and multiverses that exist, this is the one where you never avenge your first OWA loss to me. I love that people like you always think you’ve accomplished something spectacular by thinking you’ve ‘figured me out’... I don’t think I’ve ever tried to hide my motivations as a woman, as a wrestler, as anyone or anything. Sure I’ve found a new purpose. Sure I’m going to make sure that this Openweight Championship stays around MY waist because I know if anybody else on Odyssey had it, it would simply plateau and lose its significance. I care about what I do with it. I care about becoming the face of Odyssey. I care about building my motherfucking legacy.

What I couldn’t give two fucks about?

Your opinion. Your thoughts. Your perception about who I am. The perception you have that you’ve created to make yourself feel more confident about stepping into the ring with me yet again to meet the exact same fate as you did last time. Burned you when I had the chance? Honey, ya lost. You made your debut and you lost. To me. Fair and square. Not sure how much clearer I could make it.

You’re mistaking transparency for a lack of respect. Why would I respect you? Just because you respect me? You think me making fun of your little rabbit-in-a-hat magic shit is being transparent? Try again, Miss Frizzle. I’m trying to make it really fucking clear that I can’t be assed to get to know you as a competitor. I’m sending the message that you’re below me. Scared? Again, no. Excited. Maybe a little disappointed. Excited that my first title defense is going to essentially be practice for the rest of my reign. Disappointed because for once I’m trying to get a god damned challenge and Oasis can’t seem to provide me with an adequate one.

You know what, though? I can see how bad you want this because your cardio has improved with all the circles you’ve been running in. You open your mouth, and this string of nonsensical conspiracies come out. Talking about how I’m plotting my out, I’m scared, I dismissed you - that part is true, that I don’t think you want this… I don’t think you’re a real wrestler…I don’t think you put in the work…

Marie, I don’t fucking think about you at all.

Sitting here giving me insecure girlfriend energy. Babe, do you think I’m a good wrestler? Babe, you know I prep for my matches, right? Don’t like her pics, babe, it makes me feel insecure. Jesus Christ Marie, if you’re so passionate about this industry you need some fucking self-esteem. You could actually learn something from me and if you weren’t busy being heartbroken and defensive about my simple little criticisms. If we’re going to sit here psychoanalyzing each other before I crack your jaw three ways from Sunday, I’d say your parents were absent and you should work on your anxious-ambivalent attachment style because you’re obviously insecure, jealous, constantly needing validation, sensitive to criticism and…

Boring. But that’s not a symptom.

Truly, Marie? Nothing you say matters. You can sit there and cry in your house, apparently in dire need of my validation and acceptance, but you’ll never get it. I just don’t care enough about you as a person. You’re a number– no, a statistic to me. Degrading you is just an appetizer and I’m hungrier than ever. You season your meat before you eat it, don’t you? Same energy. Don’t take it personally. Cause here’s the thing. You were right when you said that now I have something to lose…but what you didn’t consider was how much that intensified my desire and my power. You and I signed at the exact same time and faced each other in our first singles match, and I had nothing then and still defeated you. How do you think I’ll handle you now? Now that I have more to lose, more to prove, more glass ceilings to shatter? Bigger challenges to conquer? Bigger target on my back? You think you’re getting the same Felix you did months ago? Fuck no. You’re getting a limited edition Daddy Issues Barbie, and trust me, I’ll be on this shelf for a long, long time. If you’re lucky, maybe you’ll get me for Christmas.”

Jeff X, Alyssa Grace, The Banshee and DT The Ruler have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos July 7th 2022, 10:38 pm by **Zumi**

Statements and Moments - BIANCA Promo
OWA Promos - Page 3 Giphy_3

Versus Ellie Quinn and Becca Black - OWA Odyssey - July 9th

The Top Tier isn’t just a moniker, it’s a symbol of proof. People forget so easily that pro-wrestling is a sport and you’re gonna have those who are sound technically but there are who are physically meant to dominate this support. Through constant hours, days, weeks, and even years of honing my craft and honing the training regiment, I got to this point. Yet dents in the armor started to form, it took a while but I rebuilt myself and I’m better than ever!

I crave challenges, I desire to face the absolute best because when you’re The Top Tier, the eyes are always locked on what you do as a competitor and they always wanna knock the best off their throne. That just doesn’t work anymore!

----
Shanghai, China

As the sun rose on the beautiful city of Shanghai, most of the Odyssey talent were arriving from their flights in preparations for OWA Odyssey including the woman making her return to the brand and OWA as a whole. Just as one more connecting flight lands, a figure enters the picture. Rocking aviators, jeans, one of her own shirts, long heel boots, and finally a bomber jacket to complete the look. The Top Tier had arrived after a week unlike most wrestlers, three matches across four companies including returning to her old stomping grounds in Japan and shocking the JET fans but that was a story for another time and another place. As she grabbed her luggage, she spotted the camera crew waiting for her. A smooth camera transition later, BIANCA was taking a seat on a table owned by a local coffee shop inside the airport.

“Man, from human rights dump to another! Of course, China was a destination for a show this year. A two for one deal of sorts but these past couple of weeks, I’ve just decided that I’ll wrestle wherever and whenever as long as it means I get to the end goal that I desire and that’s to be the best. Whether it’s inside one of the prestigious venues in all of Japan, some backwater, hillybilly hell in Mississippi, or recently in country music central Nashville. Right now… I’m just making up for the time that I’ve lost missing these last few months. Last year, I made a bang right off the bat by debuting and squaring up to Alyssa, face to face, and this year… well you all saw what I did, and you all pay your 9.99 for the OWA Network, not hard to rewatch the show.”

“The events that transpired on the kickoff show will go down in history, the end of an era as Natalie Cage has her final match, the end of Ashley Walker in general, and finally the death of Michael Bishop, a man who helped become the wrestler I am today. The bar was set really high but what every Odyssey fan has on their mind is my return to OWA, for so long I was on the sideline. I sat for months, aching to get back into the ring but instead I had to sit at home with a knee brace and being told that I would have to miss months of action, think of everything I missed because of a simple ACL tear. I missed Civil War, Clash, and, most importantly, Final Destination, which should have been my first FD.”

“That fucking stings, I’m not sure if people realize how much it ate away at me when I had sat there as OWA held Final Destination 5 in Tokyo, where my career started, and all I could do was prepare… prepare for this moment that’s about to hit Odyssey and what I did at The Award Show. This was a sample if anything, get a refresher going for those who have never seen me wrestle and a warning shot to those who end up facing me in the near future. Including my opponents, I guess my actions really pissed off someone that I’m given TWO opponents on my return match. Certainly a challenge for some but not me. And I get what people are gonna say, that I’m already back and talking with an arrogant tone in my voice.”

Taking off her shades, BIANCA has a grin on her face as she continues. The tone of confidence but yet sort of regal still persisting.

“But have you met me?! I’m pretty sure that most of Odyssey says I’m arrogant but there’s always a difference between confidence and arrogance. Fools like say… Hana is arrogant, another good one is the current Undisputed Women’s Champion. Being The Top Tier? That’s confidence, I know I’m great. The world knows it, they don’t need to be told or shown but same time I know where I’m flawed and I strive to improve. Greatness has no limits when you strive to be constantly better than the last time. And roadblocks are easy to overcome. Including the ones that Llorona has set for me on my return match to Odyssey.”

“I’m glad that one of them has spoken, Ellie Quinn going out of her way to speak first. I thank her for that. You have my sincerest gratitude but now it’s my turn. You want to talk about how you’re still standing but it’s because I allowed you to do so. Anyone and everyone can talk about standing up after a beatdown but nobody wants to talk about how they felt as they were attacked. Yes, you were assaulted behind your back but speared so hard that your ribs are probably still aching, Ellie. You can stand back up and keep going as much as you want, act like Rocky Balboa for all I care but there is no underdog story in all of this. Despite you holding gold, despite the match favoring you, somehow you and your partner are the underdog story in all of this. That’s because your opponent is The Top Tier.”

Taking a sip of her coffee, BIANCA relaxed a bit. Almost as if this amused at even talking about her foes. A sense that she didn’t see this as a challenge like others, but in her eyes. She was a one-of-a-kind Top Tier.

“Let me get this straight, I’m the bottom of the barrel because I don’t hold some cheap title from some promotion I only heard about just today? Do you know where I was for the past few months, I was on the injury list but sorry for not being someone who wants to work with a broken knee. And be honest with yourself, flexing titles? In this industry, anyone can work anywhere. No one is exclusive to a company, so on any day, someone could become a champion. Titles don’t represent how good you are these days, they represent your ability to get signed by thirty companies. Nowadays what matters is being able to create moments that will last lifetimes and I think my return truly did that.”

“You can hold up your titles and show them off as proudly as you want but you aren’t the one whose name value sells out venues as prestigious as Ryogoku Sumo Hall in Japan or massive stadiums like Arthur Ashe or even Banc of America Stadium. If you wanna talk about what I hold now? Let me ask you this, why should I care? Why should I, The Top Tier of this industry give a damn about your accolades? If you need to flex gold at me to make yourself feel important that’s fine feel free to do so but I’m gonna be honest, you could have been some unknown local competitor from a local wrestling promotion and the rest would still be the same, I just wouldn’t care.”

“Think of this as a test, a real debut match because this isn’t a match for me to prove myself to everyone. I’ve already done that already, it’s all about you and your tag partner! You get to set foot in the ring with The Top Tier! As the best athlete in this company, physically one of the best OWA has ever been, THAT THIS INDUSTRY has ever seen! All you’ve faced is your Becca Black type, the ‘wrestler’ type! Have you ever seen someone built like me, because if getting your soul speared out of you is your first time. You aren’t gonna be able to handle what I do to you? No cocky arrogance, no denial, none of that shit is gonna save you!”

“And speaking of partner, how about we chat with your partner since you seem like nothing but a D-Grade Punk Rock Reject?”

BIANCA with a smirk on her face, took one more sip of her drink, changing the subject. Having felt like she’s talked about her first opponent enough, she moves on to her second foe.

“Becca Black, what’s the story with her? Nobody knows, she’s been playing the mute button game since she signed her contract. Is there even there, like come on Becca, I get that you lost your smile or whatever the fuck but speak for once? We can’t just your tag partner take a verbal beating like this, you’re supposed to work together and fail. That’s how this handicap is supposed to play out in the eyes of management! The two of you have a common goal set in front of you and yet, you’re so silent… why? Do you like being the quiet and brooding bad girl or you don't feel like it? Let me tell you this, Becca. Doesn't matter what you say if you decide to finally do the world a favor by talking, your actions spoke quite well for you. There's a difference between losing your smile, not caring about wrestling, and actually not being as good in the first place. Just like how your actions in the ring spoke about your mediocrity, mine spoke about my talents."

"Remember what I said earlier about the whole 'I'm a wrestler' type I spoke about earlier? That's Becca Black in a nutshell, those who have nothing but only the talent to wrestle. Don't get me wrong, your personality trait could be that and you'd survive in OWA but never thrive. Here lie two prime example, a mute who can't even verbally defend herself, that's how broken she is from past trauma elsewhere, and someone who looks seems happy being a moron and flexing gold that nobody in this company cares about."

"Ellie Quinn might act tough that she still stood after being beaten down and how I should have left her for dead. But I like to keep my hands clean, so I leave murder for the likes of the Saudi government, Asian Napoleon and anyone else who enjoys killing. I left you two alive because I wanted that, not because you survived being beaten down. What I did in Saudi was me being nice and putting you two out before you continued to ruin the show."

BIANCA grabs her shades and puts them on as she gets up from her seat, ready to leave. Still holding her cup of coffee in hand.

"It's gonna take more than two of you to even touch me. Let alone beat me, The Top Tier's might is gonna come crashing down on both of you and ruin whatever potential you had. There's no escape from faith, mine is to rule and ascend to greatness, both of you are meant to become stepping stones for The Top Tier. Remember that!"

BIANCA leaves her seat as she finally leaves, heading out of the airport coffee shop and towards the exit as the camera fades to black.

Alyssa Grace, The Banshee and DT The Ruler have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos July 7th 2022, 7:55 pm by **"Killer Bee"**

The Price of Winning

Shanghai,China

Shanghai Mariott Hotel City Centre

“What’s this?”

Sena was staring down at some paperwork that Emmy had provided him with. The two of them had arrived fairly early in China and had gone about their usual workout routines, but Emmy had something different in mind today. Before they had agreed to meet for lunch in the massive hotel, she had taken some time to have some papers drawn up. She knew that she couldn’t protect the boy forever, but there was no way that she was going to let him compete in a deathmatch tournament on a roster where people had literally been DYING. The events in Saudi Arabia had left her concerned. Not necessarily for herself, but for her charge. The things that were happening in this company were getting too intense and too crazy, even for her taste.

“That’s a form for you to withdraw from the Dark Kingdom tournament. We can chalk it up as an injury thing. This tournament isn’t worth the effort. You’ve already got your tag team title shot in hand and all we need to do is find you a partner. You getting wrapped up into God knows what with whoever this….Dick P. Slaughter- heh, what a stupid name- is….We take a break. We-”

“Does this have to do with what happened to Bishop? Or Miss Walker?”

Emmy didn’t answer. Hell, she couldn’t even look him in the eye. All she did was reach down into her purse and pull out an ink pen, putting on top of the papers she had presented to him.

“Look, just sign that and I’ll take care of everything. We don’t need this tournament.”

“We don’t, but I do. Look, Emmy…I want to prove myself. I mean, doing good enough to get a tag title shot in the BOB Games was night, but what did I do in that stuff that involved actual wrestling? What did I prove to the people?”

“Do you even know why you’re here right now? I mean, in OWA. Do you know what I went through to get you this spot? I watched people DIE. I heard their screams while they were burning in hell. And the one wish I had to secure my future and the future of anyone I gave a damn about went up because I couldn’t live with myself for what I’ve done. All of that to protect you, to make sure that you had paths to titles that didn’t involve you butting heads with the Golden Dawn.”

“I appreciate that, more than you know.”

“Do you? Then why aren’t you listening to my advice? They’re going to lock you in a room with no food, no water, no contact with the outside world, completely cut off from everything for 24 hours…and then let you out to fight like an animal in God knows what kind of a match. We watched Michael Bishop die. I heard the gunshots that killed Ashley Walker. OWA does not give a single fuck about any of our lives or your well-being. You don’t have to do this….”

“I do.”

An exasperated Emmy drinks some water, looking away while mumbling to herself as Sena continued.

“You understand more than anybody why I’ve got to do this. Nobody held your hand and told you to stand back when you wrestled Asakura four times for championships and tournament trophies, even after he became God-like. Carlos didn’t jump on a plane and hold your hand when that JUDITH woman tried to murder you in APEX. Nobody stopped you from entering tournaments that were dangerous. Nobody forced you to join the Golden Dawn to help me. These were all choices that YOU made. This tournament is a choice for ME.”

“GODDAMN IT, SENA! MY JOB IS TO LOOK AFTER YOU!”

Emmy slammed her fist on the table but managed to calm herself down after a few concerned and awkward glances from some of the other patrons. In a rare bit of embarrassment, she smiled before muttering a soft apology in Mandarin.

“Do you understand why I’m so worried? I’ve been around OWA for a while, but even by the standards I’ve seen it’s out of control and this tournament with everything going on makes me nervous. I’m going to ask you one more time, as a manager and as a friend, as someone who was asked to look after you and make sure you didn’t make the mistakes that I did or Carlos did…don’t do this.”

“….Stubborn little sonnofabitch.”

With a bit of fury Emmy rose up from the table before making her way out of the busy restaurant and back up to her hotel room. Sena was hesitant for a moment, trying to reach out to her and bring her back to the table, but by the time he had even moved she was almost out of the dining area completely, heels clacking loudly on the spotless floor. He could hear some tourists chuckling about his plight, apparently convinced the two were a couple. He had to win this tournament, no matter what the prize or the stakes were. Sena had to prove that he could stand on his own. Even so, dinner was a little less satisfying without company….

Well, I’ve got a pretty monumental challenge on my hands, don’t I? The Dark Kingdom Tournament is one of the most demented concepts I’ve ever heard of. We already saw a “Desert Match” and a “Bullrope Match” when Noah Kreiger and Jacob Striker managed to advanace. Now it’s time for the next section of the bracket to take place and I’m one of those unlucky bastards selected to take part. Or is it lucky? I don’t know much about Dick P Slaughter, but from what I’ve heard he’s one of those manly man types who probably grew up on nothing but Grape Nuts, Chuck Norris Movies and human growth hormone. While who you’re paired up with matters in terms of matchups, you’re both have no idea what kind of match you’re going to have until after you’re already out there eye to eye in the center of the ring.

That doesn’t bother me too much honestly. Carlos Rosso trained me to prepare for the absolute worst. While I don’t have a nailed down style of wrestling like a lot of the people in this company do, I have the benefit of being a bit of a blank canvas. My moves and style are so basic that in a weird way I’m not handicapped at all by match types because I don’t deviate into just one set thing. If I have to have a high speed, high flying match? Cool. If I have to have a bloody brawl in a deathmatch? I’ve endured more than enough physicality just training to get here so a little blood doesn’t bother me.

A lot of the guys have their different motivations for winning. For everyone obviously the biggest prize is whatever the prize that awaits the winner. Nobody knows if it’s money, a title opportunity, a new title, a date with the Grand Elder- which I wouldn’t be too keen on since apparently she was run through by Jeff X of all people- who knows? But what I do know is that my motivation goes far beyond just earning that prize, whatever it may be.

My goal: trust. Ever since I arrived here, people have been trying to hold my hand, decide how I should go about doing this wrestling thing. I’m not claiming to be the best wrestler on the planet and I’m not some ‘tough guy’ shooter. I know I still have a lot to learn. But I have to ask you all rhetorically: How am I supposed to learn anything if I don’t get the opportunity to try, if I shrink away just because things are dangerous?

Nobody ever tried to police the careers of people like Rebecca Filth, Carlos Rosso my mentor, Darkane, Tarah Nova, CM Nas, Donovan T. They were allowed to make mistakes and pursue opportunities and, even with failiures here and there, were stronger in the end for that experience. I understand that people passed away in Saudi Arabia. I understand that people in this company wield powers that are beyond comprehension at times, and men like my opponent Slaughter are lurking at every turn to batter you even if you don’t have to face a God.

We all understand that this line of work can be deadly. In the ring, out of the ring, every match could be your last. Even though Emmanuelle understands this, she’s deliberately trying to hold me back, to get me to withdraw from this tournament. “Eh, we can just say you were injured, we can just sit on that tag team championship opportunity you’ve got for yourself.”

I don’t operate like that.

Now, Dick, you seem to believe that you have this match in the bag before it even begins. That’s cool. You weigh more, you’re got a little more experience, you’re obviously comfortable with explosives and combat so a deathmatch doesn’t seem to scare you. The problem that you have is that I don’t give a shit about any of that. I’m pretty sure my desire to prove myself, to show people why they signed me to a contract, is greater than your need for pussy or explosions or your ego. I know that I don’t look that dangerous, but I do think you should be entering this match with just a little more respect for the opposition. As any good card player knows, you have to go in with a pretty even keel, have plans regardless of the situation, and play with the cards that you’ve been dealt.

Am I bigger than you? No. Stronger? Probably not. But just because you’re bigger and stronger than everyone else doesn’t mean you’re going to rule the wrestling world. Big Naheem would have been a world champion into infinity if that were the case. Latoya Hixx would be the greatest OWA Women’s Champion of all time. But it’s not.

When that bell rings, and I don’t care what kind of match it is, Dick, I’m going to be ready. People think that just because I’m a Young Lion that I don’t have claws that can draw blood just yet, that I don’t know how to fight. You’re going to learn just how dangerous I am. I think that this is your debut, right? You want to show the world that you’re up to snuff, ready to dip right into the Kingdom/Marvel Universe like you’re fucking War Machine or something.

That’s great.

It’s going to be even greater when I kick the enthusiasm right out of your Macho ass. I didn’t enter this tournament to lay down or to make up the numbers. I entered this tournament to be the one standing at the end, showing people that I’m not just here because of other people’s hard work, that I’m not a beneficiary of mere nepotism. Like a surgeon, mister, I’m going to cut my way through you and then everyone else in the way to get to the final and claim the prize. Not because I want gold. Not because I want fame. Not because I’m some strung out deity trying to lord it over the rest of the world.

But because I want to make it 100 percent known that I’m just as dangerous as any God walking. I know violent men, Slaughter. I trained with them, have wrestled them here. You? You might not like my assessment from just seeing you ramble, but to me you’re nothing more than a poser trying to look a lot harder than he actually is. That’s the difference between us, man:

You’re projecting so hard you could screen a movie on the moon.

Me? I’m aware of who I am, what I am, and what I am actually capable of.

In Shanghai, you will too.

The Banshee and DT The Ruler have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos July 7th 2022, 6:39 pm by **'Don' Hendrix**

Unrecorded ■

It's been…… man I don't even know how long since I've felt okay. As a face wrestler, I have to go out there with a fake smile on so the small children that still believe in me even when ninety percent of the crowd hates my guys. As a father, you have to bottle up everything and plaster a smile on your face so your children don't see the pain you're going through so they do not worry about what their parents are going through because you want them to see that everything is okay so they're okay.

I never intended for any of this to happen, but it was the hand that I was dealt with. I had just finished an live event, and they were chanting horrible stuff to me. I get to the locker room and sits on a chair. ……… why? What have I've done to them? What did I do to deserve this? I've done nothing but shown love and support to those fans and this is what I get as a result? Absolutely devastated at this bullshit I'm being put through. Why is it every time I show any type of compassion for people, they turn on me with a knife in my back? Man I'm about to flip the fu- "DADDY!" My train of thought is interrupted as the locker room door opens up and in comes a running Raelynn full speed at me. I lift her up in my arms before setting her down on my lap.

"Hey Sweetheart. Where's Misty?"

"Right here sir." The woman I hired to babysit Raelynn while I'm in the ring, Misty, walks into the room.

"Ah. How was she? She behaved?"

"Of course sir. She was a delight."

"That's good. Thank you Misty." I reach into my bag and pull out my wallet, pulling out the agreed money to pay her with. She smiles at Raelynn before leaving the locker room. I put my wallet back into my bag. "You think daddy did good today?" She nods before I lift her up and set her onto the ground. "Daddy got to go shower. I'll give you my phone to use so you don't go wandering around." I lift my phone off the ground and put on a movie for her to watch. I get up from the seat before she gets up on the chair and sits down before handing her the phone. I grab my towel and public clothing and head into the showers. I rest against the wall, feeling the water hit my body as everything starts rushing into my head at once.

"HENDRIX SUCKS!"

"FUCK YOU HENDRIX!"

"DIE HENDRIX DIE!"

I growl as my hand rolls up into a fist and I punch the wall, before kneeling and covering my head with my arms, letting the water fall onto me, like washing my sins away in a river of agony seemingly. I open my eyes, and the voices go away. Seemingly became a whisper……… before becoming nonexistent. I slowly remove my hands from my head and look around at my surroundings before sitting on the floor, placing my back against the wall. I breathe heavy as I rest my head against the wall before rubbing my eyes. Was this worth it anymore? To be the good guy I thought people would want, only to become the villain they desire? To want to seek joy, only to receive deception? It's the biggest pain in my life today: wanting to please everyone, but draining what of myself to do so? I stand up from the floor and turn the shower off. I grab my towel off the hook and wipe my face first. I start drying my hair, staring out to what seems to the wall, but to me, I see thousands of fans booing, and in the crowd is my family. I see them front row and center, light shining down on them, following suit and hating me along with them. I close my eyes, refusing to see anymore as I finish drying my body off and changing into my normal street clothes of a plain white t-shirt, blue jeans, white Jordan's, and my gold Rolex. I exit the shower to see Raelynn still watching the movie I had playing for her. I toss my towel and clothes in my bag before placing the strap around my shoulder.

"Ready to go sweetheart?" She nods as I take my phone and slides it right into my right side pocket before taking her hand and walking out of the locker room and onto the next goal: OWA.

Recorded ●

"Do I sound out of place Mark? Do I sound all wicked out?! You say I called you Mark Hunter, but that's not true Michaels, because I was talking of the man who gave me the push I needed to where I have people putting my name in conversations for most improved or potential Heavyweight Champions of the future. You see with all the venom I spit, I give my flowers to those who deserve it in my eyes. And you say I was disrespectful to an entire race, but let's be honest, I was only disrespectful to the race's own biggest disappointment. And thanks for the story, I would go through my entire storyline too, but I'm not given enough time to. But to sum it up I grew up without my father, my mother worked three jobs to care for me, I was beat up, picked on, sent to a hospital room over a girl all before high school. It took me hitting the gym and getting into the physical appearance I have today that changed everything for me. It probably sounds like a cliche, but it's the truest of them all.

It's almost as if I got into your head, which is the goal. It's how I defeated some of the all-time greats this business has ever seen, because they fell for the first round of insanity, only to come back and get bitten by the fangs of the copperhead. Now as the poison runs through your veins, I stand here and finish you off.

It's almost like I am insane, you know? And who can blame me? Look around me, I'm the most questioned guy here: where does my loyalty stand? Who the fuck are you to question my loyalty? I've stood with companies till they died. I never quit unless given no other choice. Me? I'll ride or die with Olympus and Omega Alliance Wrestling till a day comes when I can't ride no more. I will worry about Senn and who the fuck ever the General Manager is when they decide to step in my way, and trust me, ask around, I don't like being told what to do by anyone. But until they find the balls to step in my way, you're the shit pile that's stacked up in front of me.

You want to question my evolution but you haven't seen it. You haven't seen what I had to do. At one point, I was here and I gave the biggest shit showcase of any superstar alive and I knew I could do better with the fire. I made a promise one day I would come back when I was better. And you had your biggest haters in the world come to you and tell you that you are THAT GUY, then I knew my evolution came. And hold up, I came back before Project Honor fell, so don't say "I came crawling back". And bro you say bitch more than you say words. If I cry that much, be creative with it! Every sentence ending in "bitch" or "cry" lacks originality! You could go to Google and look up "unique ways to call someone a cry baby" and get harder hitting results! But no, you have fallen into the same routine as even the jobbiest of jobbers and you will experience the same defeat like they do.

And I don't ally myself with those who I know will stab me in the back when they're offered the riches they want. And trust me, the only people I trust are on different brands. But, if things were to go rough, I do what's right for the fans and for the company. And as far as I'm concerned, if you want me to be trustworthy or want to be a team player, earn it. Otherwise, take your "piss away allies" and shove it up your ass.

Trust me, I am off the leash because I don't stop unless I am forced to. I am off the leash because I got the dawg in me that I don't sense in you. I'm off the leash because I won't stop kicking your fucking skull into the ground and watching your brain leak out from your ears and nose until I get that victory. And when I go the distance, I will damn sure have your respect and the respect of everyone else at the end of it all. I'm Brandon Fucking Hendrix, the guy who walked through hell when I first died and ready to go back if need be. I'm Brandon Fucking Hendrix, the guy who no one expected to show up, but shook a lot of people when I did. I'm Brandon Fucking Hendrix, the next OWA Immortal Heavyweight Champion. I'm

BRANDON
FUCKING
HENDRIX

And I'm the Dark Knight to this series Mark Michaels. When you fail, when everyone else fail, you will watch as I end the suffering that is hovering this brand.

Brandon. Fucking. Hendrix. Is. The. Real. Deal."

DT The Ruler has spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos July 7th 2022, 3:31 pm by **Krysis**

Turning Negative into Rage

Odyssey LXXVIII #2

Early this morning, Camera seeing Devi at the RDU getting ready for the flight to Shanghai for the tonight's Season Premiere of Odyssey.

Shanghai Grand View Park
1:24pm

Devi has landed to Shanghai safely. She look around the city, as she got on the taxi and ask to drive to Shanghai Grand View Park. As she arrived here via taxi, Devi walk around seeing the park. As she looked around the camera focused on her behind.

Shanghai…Yuna Kurosawa…Let me Enlighten you. I'm admired your fighting spirits, Yuna! Not only that but the will and the thrill of a fight that you're in for! And let's be honest Yuna, Despite this brand, Odyssey turning into whore house or Thotyssey Era because of the Undisputed Women's World Champion, Rebecca Filth throwing a "Live Sex Celebration" and invite Angelina Magnum for perverted people like China to mastubate the fuck out with, Soon both of them will be dead in the bed in the hands of The Banshee! Felix Hartley who's holding the Openweight Championship, who's already talking shit to me and her winning at Final Destination IV. You see after everything, and I mean "EVERYTHING" that is happening to me…I'm turning that Negative, the Sorrows, and past failures into undying rage! You think that I'm not the only one who has been holding back Yuna?

Scene transition to flashbacks to all the failures that Devi had felt over the years and the scene transition back to the Shanghai Grand View Park, As Devi walk around the park.

Well..I don't blame you! I don't fucking blame you! Between you, Llorona pushing her buttons costing someone else's life, Revy went missing, My friend The Current OWA Goddess Champion NAMI who's currently having problems with Llorona. This whole thing is enlighten me with this rage that feels and burns inside of me Yuna, I'll use it against you, you want me to focused on myself for my failures, you want to make fun of me, sitting in the back of the bus while anyone has been successful, sure! But saying that will raised the level of the rage that I want to endured to the point that you're not walking on your on two feet!

Camera focused on Devi's face as she took off the hood of her jacket.

Yuna Kurosawa you *WAITING* for me to wake up from obscurity, you want me to unleashed the rage that you want out of, you want me to focus on beating you down in submission, you want to be violent in our match? Well…good cause I wanted to used that to get my first win against you, you'll find out that I'm good enough, you find that I'm the baddest bitch in the game, you find out that I'm gonna bring the pain, bloody, and suffering that I'm gonna to unleash. I'm not planning on going home til I get some blood on my hands. So be careful what you ask for Yuna because I told you that in Season 5 I'm come to the ring with the mindset, a "DIFFERENT" mindset! And I'll be bringing to the Odyssey brand so message to Llorona, Felix Hartley, Rebecca Filth, and the entire Odyssey roster be on notice! What I do to Yuna Kurosawa is what I'm going to do to each and every one of you! Congratulations! You just woke up another side of me that you shouldn't have been woken.

Because I'm not blessed, I've been Enlighten! See you soon Yuna!

(Devi walks away from camera and screen fades black)

Jeff X and DT The Ruler have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos July 7th 2022, 1:52 pm by **Chad Ecclestone**

SEASON FIVE - EPISODE TWO

“OH NO . . . ANYWAY”

An aerial view of Chad Ecclestone’s sprawling beachfront property in Paradise Cove Bluffs, the most expensive area in Los Angeles County. The hovering drone scans over the estate, lingering on the opulent home and well-maintained grounds long enough to make anyone watching it more than a bit jealous. After the audience has plenty of time to turn green in envy of the Ecclestonian lifestyle on display, the view switches to Chad himself, reclining shirtless in a solid gold beach lounger as he thumbs through the newest issue of ‘Wealthy Hollywood Bastard’ magazine. His face just so happens to be on this month’s cover.

Laying beside him is his wife, Chastity Ecclestone. She’s wearing a skimpy bikini that leaves little to the imagination, her eyes covered with designer sunglasses that rest over a heavily-bandaged nose. Either Krieger did more damage to her than anyone watching would have guessed, or they’re playing up the injury for the camera. Pretending that this is a candid moment, Chad looks up at the camera with a surprised look in his eyes. He closes the magazine and sits up, flashing his famous smile at the camera.

“Good afternoon to all my fans and well-wishers around the world. You’ll have to forgive me for subjecting you to the shoddy state of the sand,” he explains, despite the fact that the sand is pristine, freshly raked and completely free of debris, “but I had to fire the illegal immigrant I’d been paying 50 cents an hour to landscape it. That disrespectful thug had been sneaking glances at my wife as she tanned her supple, voluptuous body. Not that I blame him, but it’s like I told the poor bastard ‘if you want a peek at her tits, pony up for a monthly membership to my adult entertainment site/medical marijuana delivery service ‘ECCLESTONED.com’ like everyone else. And hey, if you can’t afford the $89.99 fee, then keep your eyes to yourself, pal.’ Unfortunately he didn’t seem to understand English, so I was forced to terminate his contract on the spot and phone some immigration enforcement officials to come pick him up.”

“Before I get too far off-course, let me get a couple of things out of the way. First of all, I’d like to extend my sincere, heartfelt apology to the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia for the horrorshow they were forced to endure weeks ago. Those two whores, what the hell were their names again? Becky Dirt and Angel Colt? I suppose it doesn’t really matter. They disrespected the cultural mores of a fine, upstanding, moral nation that was kind enough to host Omega Wrestling Alliance against their better judgment. And that’s not even getting into what that crazy zombie bitch did to those members of the Royal Guard!”

“That crime is second to one far greater, though. A vicious, uncalled-for assault that left several lives completely ruined, never to be the same again,” he says, voice cracking in an inauthentic, phony manner, “I mean, of course, the damage done to my wife’s nose by one ‘Noah Krieger’ as she attempted to assist her beleaguered husband... that’s me, by the way... during my debut match on Kingdom. What, you didn’t think I meant the death of Michael Bishop, did you? No, no, no, my dear friends, you clearly haven’t been paying attention to the message I’ve been struggling to impart to you. Little Mikey had it coming, for dedicating his life to the corrupting influence that is modern combat sports. He’s gone, the world is a better place for it, and nobody is going to waste their time or tears mourning that ‘loss’. But my wife has never hurt a goddamn soul, and she’s been forced to wait weeks for a timeslot to open up at our plastic surgeon’s office! Truly, we live in trying times. Fortunately I’m incredibly wealthy and influential, and I managed to finagle her an appointment for later today, so we’ll be getting her nose fixed up shortly. And anyway, I’ve been trying to talk her into getting her breasts touched up a bit. The nipple placement has been way off ever since the last surgery, so we might as well get that taken care of at the same time. Two birds, one stone, as they say.”

Chastity turns to glance at Chad, lowering her sunglasses so he can see the angry glare she’s aiming in his direction. As expected, he doesn’t notice, and her bitchy glance is completely wasted.

“But I digress. I’ve been getting messages from a lot of concerned individuals out there, worrying about my health after the attempt on my life by Noah Krieger, and Kenny Drake’s personal army of scorpions. Some among you have even begged me to give up my crusade, for the sake of my own health. To them I say ‘who the hell asked your opinion?’ I do what I want, and if anyone out there thinks a few dozen doses of scorpion venom are going to take me out of the game, then they’re clearly not true Ecclemaniacs, and should return their membership cards to my fanclub post-haste. I won’t be driven off by some rigged ‘random stipulation’ wheel, and if they think that a loss is going to make me depressed, break my spirit, and force me to slink out of the business with my tail between my legs, well,” he gestures at his surroundings, particularly his wife who seems to have fallen asleep in the lounger beside him, “how the hell am I going to be depressed when I live like this? A wise man once said, ‘it’s not whether you win or lose, it’s how big your wife’s titties are’. By that metric, I think I’m doing quite well, thank you very much. So Noah can go ahead and take his little victory lap as he advances to the next round, because at the end of the day he goes to sleep in what I assume is his car, or a homeless shelter, and I get to live in an estate where the property taxes alone are probably twice the average American’s salary. So fuck him, I didn’t need the win anyway, because I’m winning at life.”

Reclining back in his lounging chair, Chad reaches over to grab his copy of ‘Wealthy Hollywood Bastard’ as he ignores the camera completely to resume his reading. The scene doesn’t fade to black, and after a minute or two Chad shoots an annoyed glance at the camera before something visibly dawns on him and he places the magazine to the side.

“Oh, I almost forgot about my next match. Some guy called Darius Harrell, right? Well, I’m just going to call him Darrell, to save some breath, and also because Darius is a silly name. Who is he supposed to be, the King of Persia circa 522 BC? He definitely doesn’t look Persian to me! So, Darrell, allow me to grant you the gift of my attention, no matter how briefly. It’s likely to be the high point of your entire existence, so you might want to put down the can of Spam you’re dining on, and listen to what I’m about to say with whatever brainpower you can muster. What happened on Kingdom was my first setback in my entire life. And I’m not keen on suffering any more losses, so I regret to inform you that I’m going to have to beat your ass. But that’s not good enough for me, so I’m going to spend some of my priceless time dragging your name through the dirt a bit first. Ready?”

Chad sits back up in his chair, inhaling a deep breath as the sun reflects off his oiled abdominal muscles. The superstar looks like he’s preparing himself for something serious, as his smile fades away and his face takes on a stern expression, similar to the one he wore when playing John F. Kennedy in the hit biopic ‘JFK vs. the CIA II: Battle in the Book Depository’.

“What’s it like, Darrell? What’s it like to know that your father thought so little of you that he raised you up to become a wrestler, instead of something more noble or lucrative? Alright, not everyone is cut out to study a STEM field, whatever the hell that stands for. Not everyone is meant to reach the heights of show business like I have, either. But there’s plenty of jobs that you could’ve done instead. Plumber. Janitor. Even a shelf stocker at Wal-Mart has a certain quiet, plebeian dignity to it. But apparently your daddy didn’t think you could make it anywhere but this sickening sport, where washed-up fighters get wished to death by angry Asian men and bona fide stars get thrown, quite literally in my case, to the scorpions.”

“What it comes down to is a lack of creativity on your part. That’s the thing that separates us. Vision. I have it, you don’t. My father wanted me to follow in his footsteps in the adult film industry, just like your old man wanted you to follow in his, by becoming a CTE-afflicted goon. But unlike you, I knew I could do better than my dad. I did so well that I was able to purchase my father’s production company, and now he’s my employee, working underneath me, while you still struggle in the shadow of yours. Funny how that works, isn’t it? Almost like I’m better than you, and most people.”

“The thing is, despite all I’ve said, despite your pathetic lot in life, despite what was in all likelihood a depressing, poverty-ridden upbringing, I don’t pity you. Others might, and they should, but not me. Not Chad Ecclestone. Those watching at home might ask, ‘why not? Why not pity this poor son of a bitch who never had a chance to do anything meaningful with his life?’ It’s because you don’t deserve my pity. You’re so far beneath being pitied that it’s laughable, like those downtrodden drug addicts I step over on the streets of Los Angeles, every time I visit the less affluent parts of my beloved city. You’re a grown man, and you could have tried to do something better with your life, but you didn’t. You chose the easy route, selling your health for a couple bucks a night on the indies, before signing with OWA for slightly more money. So, no, I don’t feel sorry for you. You’ve made your bed, now it’s time for me to put you to sleep in it. And not in a sexual or comfortable way, either, I mean I’m actually going to knock your ass out.”

“But you know, I do feel sorry for someone. Who? Your mother, of course. Not only did she have to marry some two-bit ‘athlete’ like your father, who was most likely so brain damaged from head trauma by the time they met that he couldn’t carry on a conversation, but she had to watch her son throw his potential away by chasing the same dreams of glory and honor, in an industry completely bereft of both.”

“So to her I say ‘I’m sorry’. I’m sorry your son was, and continues to be, such a disappointment. I’m sorry you wasted all that time and money bringing him up in this world, only to watch him piss it all away by refusing to find his own way. I’m sorry, most of all, for what I’m going to have to do to him when that bell tolls. Because by the time I’m through with him, he’ll be wishing he was back in the ring with Jacob Striker instead of me. But look on the bright side, okay Mama Harrell? When I’m done with your little boy, I can guarantee he’ll be looking for a new career. As soon as he can walk on both feet again.”

The Banshee and DT The Ruler have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos July 6th 2022, 9:16 pm by **marielacorriveau**

~~Holy Shit~~ Of Course the Camera Guy is Fine

(..... why wouldn't he be?)

Marie sits cross legged on a large wooden box in her living room. Her tarot cards are laid out in front of her and an ice cap from Tim Horton’s is in her hand. She looks up from the spread and seems surprised by the cameraman.

“You made it back? Good for you. Not that there was any reason you wouldn’t, I mean.”

There’s a thud and a low rumbling sound from the box beneath her and Marie gives the side a firm kick with her leather boot.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s uh… a family heirloom. For storing linens. Gets a bit creaky.”

She watches the camera, waiting for a response, before shrugging - satisfied she doesn’t need to go any further with her explanation.

“Never mind. That’s not important. It’s time for me to talk about the woman of the hour. Felix pulled it off.”

There’s another loud thud and something disconcertingly like a hiss from the wooden box, and Marie rolls her eyes. “Can you give me a minute? Off camera? I’ll be fast.”

The camera retreats and turns away from her, giving the viewer a good look at the old bookshelves and odd statues she has on display, but she’s still visible in an antique mirror in the shot.

Marie hops off of the box, muttering to herself in French. She walks over to a bag and pulls out a glass bottle, and then takes a rusty railroad spike from its place of honour on a bookshelf. Without hesitation, she yanks the lid of the trunk open and throws them both inside, shattering the bottle. The hissing gets louder, and a pale smoke is blown into the room as she slams the lid shut and sits back down.

“I told you! Be quiet!” Marie whispers, her words punctuated by a sharp kick, and then calls to the cameraman. “Ready! Ah, câlice…”

The camera swings around to see Marie mopping up her spilled coffee from the floor with a tea towel. The trunk is silent again - but there’s a satisfied smugness in the silence that is not lost on Marie as she cleans.

“Sorry, sorry, I know.” She sits down on the box again, giving it a good kick with her heel. There’s an annoyed knock in response, and Marie kicks it again.

“We were talking about Felix. She made it. I saw how close every woman in the ring was to getting that belt - after I was bailed out of the world’s shortest kidnapping. Actually, that reminds me, now I know which of my colleagues aren’t predisposed to leaving me for dead. Dulce, I think I owe you a drink, at least for having the thought. Ah, and mon chevalier, Noah. Sena… sure, you too. Just to dull the pain from that remark about your hair, why not. I’m Canadian, I don’t need too strong a reason to buy a round. The truth is, how that match went I could be standing across from Devi, Violet, or Daisy, and I’d be fine with that. They’re all fantastic competitors and I’d be glad to test myself against them and put on a show for Shanghai.”

She pauses, falling silent for a moment, eyes focused on something far away.

“But Felix? That’s something special there. I really didn’t think it would be so soon. I thought I’d have some time to, ah… miss her.”

Marie laughs and shakes her head.

“Felix was my first match here. And I would love to sit here and say I think she just got lucky at Final Destination. It would be easy to do what she does and act like any win that doesn’t belong to me is a fluke, but she made her own luck. Franchement… I’m trying to say that while I don’t like Felix’s style, I haven’t flipped just because I came up short. I haven’t flipped just because she was still talking shit about me before Final Destination. I do respect Felix, I still respect her. It’s kind of funny she’s still on her whole… everyone hates me, everyone was talking shit, now people are taking me seriously, thing. I always took Felix seriously. In fact, before our first match she outright mocked me for doing it. So what does she want? Respect? Cutthroat dismissal? Ah, maybe heretical worship? I don’t think she actually knows, so let’s talk about it, hein?”

“I show all my opponents here respect, because I actually believe that being here means something. This is the big time. We all got signed because we deserve to be here. Yuna deserves to be here, even though she ate a loss against me and can't seem to deal with it. Devi deserves to be here - she made it to the Fatal Four Way, didn’t she? Felix doesn’t want me to psychoanalyze her? Fine. Stop being so completely transparent and I won’t have anything to work with. Really? Placeholder?”

Marie snorts.

“You're setting up your out! I don’t care I lost to that stupid hippy, I was meant for more, I’m just like Filth! I don’t need tarot cards to read you, Felix. You’re scared. You’ve got something solid now, and that means you have something to lose, something on your record that you can’t bullshit your way out of. That freaks you out. So you degrade your opponent, act like the belt is just a stepping stone to greater things, and then when you lose? Oh well. Placeholder belt for a loser opponent. On to the main event, somehow, because you’re too great and terrible to be held down by the Openweight Championship. No big deal. Am I really not supposed to notice that? I don’t exactly need a psych degree to work it out, Felix. It’s way too easy. If you’re going to keep making cracks about me being a fairground novelty with a crystal ball, maybe make sure you're a little harder to see through than one.”

“Oh, and while we’re really getting into this - of course we had different Final Destination experiences this year. Is that supposed to hurt my feelings? Are you expecting me to pout and say it wasn’t fair? Would you be more comfortable if I stamped my feet and cried that big bad Felix cheated me out of my spot? I’ve never pretended I didn’t lose my first match. It doesn’t hurt my ego, because unlike you, I actually give credit where credit is due. And you can pretend I don’t deserve to get back in the ring with you all you want, but you don’t make that decision.”

“Cherie, I actually didn’t choose when to challenge you. I was given the opportunity to challenge you on this card, on this day, at the beginning of Odyssey's new season, based on coming “almost last” at the games. And maybe, if it had been my choice, I would’ve waited and bided my time to challenge you. I could’ve waited until you were low, and run in to take my shot when you were at your weakest - but I don’t think I would have. Because despite your protests, I know you well enough to recognize that would’ve just given you another out. I’m not going to be an escape hatch for your ego, Felix. I’m going to beat you this Saturday, when you’re at your best. Try to wriggle out of that.”

“The first time we met, you dismissed me completely, and that’s one thing, that’s… not fine, but not the point. The point is you don’t seem to think I want this. You don’t think I’ve put in the work because you haven’t seen it happening - I guess I should start going to the same gym as you so that you can finally realize that match prep for me isn’t just lighting a few candles and hoping for the best. You barely consider me a wrestler. You thought, and probably still think, that I blew in without a care in the fucking world. You thought that losing to you my first day in OWA would break me. It didn’t. You thought I’d fuck off back to Montreal and move on to… throwing pottery with whimsical sayings on it in between week long vision quests. I’m still here.”

“I’m not that kind of witch, Felix.”

Marie sighs, moving to sit cross legged on the trunk. There’s a sound like dry leaves being blown across concrete from underneath, whisper soft and enough to make the shot jump a little, like the cameraman has goosebumps, but she doesn’t knock or kick or scold. She just rests a palm flat on the lid next to her, as if quieting a friend who’s had too much to drink and is getting a bit too loose with their tongue.

“I’m honestly not surprised that you weren’t listening when I told all these beautiful people the story of La Corriveau - you’re not interested in me, or your other opponents, so why would you deign to listen to someone giving a history lesson? You should’ve given it some thought, Felix. In fact, you could’ve asked your Daddy what happened with that whole thing. It could’ve saved you some grief, told you what you were dealing with.”

“Let me give you the short version. They hanged her. She came back. It got worse.”

“I’m that kind of witch, Felix. The kind that comes back.”

She levels her eyes directly at the camera.

“You should’ve burned me when you had the chance.”

Jeff X, Alyssa Grace, The Banshee, DT The Ruler and Krysis have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos July 6th 2022, 3:57 pm by **DT The Ruler**

I’m not mad, just disappointed

(DT The Ruler’s is shown with his back to the camera, as he is sitting in a relaxed pose at the outside dining area at the Bellagio by MGM Shanghai in the Hongkou District of Shanghai, China. He eyes the skyline in the distance as he finishes a business call and then closes his phone, placing it face-down on the table)

In the wake of my first defense of the OWA Outlaw Championship, I must say that in my time in the Professional Wrestling business, not just the Omega Wrestling Alliance, two things don’t surprise me in the slightest: one, a person questions who I am because they are too lazy to take time to actually do real research on their opposition, a sign that they are not as intelligent as any quips may suggest. The second that they are as unoriginal as every other opponent I have faced, as every single person assumes taking my name and spinning it around makes them slick, when all they’ve done is do a good job impersonating a parrot. Mr. Alejandro De Leon, as much as you may not have heard of The Ruler, I can easily retort by informing you that the most successful businessmen are not the ones who flaunt their existence and various ventures to the public on a regular basis; that’s what narcissists do. They’re not the ones you see and hear about everywhere, as many of us can become targets in more ways than we already are by showing out and being loud about what we own and control in the current economy. Those “businessmen” who appear everywhere are no different than the plastic bimbo forcing her possible audience to focus on her Brazilian Butt Lift on Social Media, and no different than the Donald Trumps of the World and the empty suits similar to him.

But I digress.

To no surprise you question my credentials on the basis of ignorance rather than using your words appropriately and respectfully asking as you look upward, “Who is DT The Ruler and what are the business ventures that the great DT partakes in?” Instead, you thought it in your best interest to pull the same basic bitch tactics as everyone else and speak first by addressing The Ruler incorrectly, as “Sir Donovan T”. No, no, no, no, no. For a man of lower stature such as yourself, you should begin with addressing me as simply “SIR” from the get-go. Bonus points if you bow as you do so. Now, how do I know you are not as high on the totem pole as you pose in your suit? Quite simply, no businessman, no dealer, no negotiator making real moves that impact society- or their direct constituents- allows anyone to address their organization and/or inner circle as “The Cartel”, as such a slanderous term is used by the lowly common folk who don’t understand nor participate in the type of life that word implies. For next time you spit nonsense, Mr. De Leon, “Mafia” is another one I’ll let you know not to use if you want respect from the real entrepreneurs.

(DT The Ruler laughed lightly for a bit as a waitress brought him some champagne)

Thank you.

(The woman then walked away while DT The Ruler lit a cigar and took two puffs)

You should know better than to expose yourself in such a way; the less reason you give The Law to keep track of you and your associates in any country, the better. Then again, it could be just a Mexican thing; I doubt it, though. A very stupid thing, but still… Immediately, I can tell you’re either just posing, Mr. Alejandro, or you’re very much on the outside of operations than you’d like to admit; you’re no different than a Johnny Fontaine or some garbage rapper like Lil Wayne when he’d cosplay as a Blood to increase his toughness. I understand; sometimes that damn Hip Hop music has a strong influence on your brainwaves, but you should know better than to be programmed by Low Vibration delinquents in Pop Culture.

(DT The Ruler than took another puff from his cigar and looked at the clear sky in Shanghai)

But it’s all good, Mr. De Leon. It’s all good; I am very used to many of my opponents of the past and present pretending to not only be big shots but also pretending to be big threats I should be highly concerned about beyond what I already said. I do find it rather interesting that off the bat, an actual random such as yourself on one side of your neck suggest you and your Familia never heard of The Ruler, which is funny because unfamiliarity is a two-way street here. But then, you believe you also have the RIGHT to speak and judge what you and your Familia are not familiar with. How does that work? How does that even compute, Mr. De Leon? Does it at all? Instantly, you move from being uninformed and ignorant- which I am sometimes forgiving of, as curable as that is- to being just plain stupid. Remarkable transition! I applaud it; usually it’s the veterans who’ve taken too many chair shots that manage to be contradictory, but you did it all before your first day. I already lowered my expectations when I listened to your dismissive gibberish, but to pretend you know me well enough to think you can judge…anyone, nonetheless The Ruler, the OWA Outlaw Champion, speaks volumes about how much sense you need beaten into you come Kingdom. My primary goal, however, does not include exposing you as a soldier or mascot or associate-level goon amongst your connections, Mr. De Leon, as in due time, you will do that yourself from what I caught in your words. And even in my business affairs, I value those essential workers, just as much as I value the stocker in a grocery store. But you, a blank slate of a wrestler, a man who has yet to accomplish something, having any authority to play judge of a champion or give believable perspective of The Ruler is beyond laughable. You see as easy as it is to judge a man gaining control of events around him at the pace he desires amidst the nonsense, it’s even less difficult to judge someone who has done zero. All of the cards are in my favor, Mr. Alejandro, and the gavel is within my grasp.

And Mr. De Leon, I will judge you severely in every facet that matters. Just to give you more perspective, I usually laugh off the juvenile insults at the end of the day, such as the one you said about me being bald…by choice. However, one thing you will shut your mouth about- now and during the match- is my wrestling ability. You have a lot of nerve, opening your trap and even suggesting I should have spent more time working on something that has shut down many before you and will continue to after our encounter. Quite an assertion from a man with no leg to stand on. And you will learn firsthand the difference between a veteran who has sharpened his craft and doesn’t have to cheat and what you present yourself as, which is something I’ve seen before. But this assessment on your Day 1 will be an unforgiving one, as my goal does not include teaching in real-time, Mr. Alejandro. What you’re going to be facing in the ring come Kingdom is not just confidence nor arrogance. What you’ll be facing in the ring is not something that “kinda does OK, maybe”. No, Mr. De Leon. Once that bell rings, you will be looking eye-to-eye with something that is proven tried and true, an approach that has crushed confidence with every high-impact slam I decide to execute and has broken aspirations with every submission I decide to apply in order to remind my opposition of the fact that is my superiority over their egotism. The very style that has awarded me World Titles against better egos, a style that has stunted some of the most disrespectful pieces of trash to ever lace up wrestling boots, as they all learned to show respect for a man they should have from the beginning.

And in comparison, you’re coming in with…nothing.

(DT The Ruler was about to take another puff of his cigar, but then suddenly stopped)

Scratch that, actually. You will be coming in with something, and that is…confidence? Really? So far, Mr. De Leon, it’s understandable as a rookie but it’s nothing The Ruler should consider formidable when I hear an amateur express a feeling as a major reason they believe they’ll stand a chance. But in case you haven’t noticed yet, all I have presented to you, Mr. Alejandro, is facts based on this situation. You’re facing a man that is battle-tested while all you are currently have is feelings and the thought that maybe someone in OWA in the back believes you are good enough to even breathe the same air I do. Politicians sell themselves on feelings, on promises of positive change. And when put in the position to move the needle and take action, they all fall short of what they boasted they would do. And as much as I welcome the challenge, as much as I deep-down somewhere admire the attempt to rattle the cage of the still hungry lion, you will fall on your sword when the time comes to deliver because I have proven myself more than not. You still have a lot of growing to do before you can reach high enough to box with The Ruler, but like I said insinuated previously: your efforts will at least get a golf clap or two from the Chinese.

Once I stomp away that New Car Smell you enter Kingdom with and beat respect into your very being, Mr. De Leon, you will then know better than most who the fuck I am, and I am many things compared to a lower-rung mascot for “The Cartel”. I am and will continue to be the OWA Outlaw Champion, as this is just the beginning. I am and will continue to be the great businessman you and your “Cartel” associates should probably consider doing business with after your humiliation. And by the way: if you decide to take me up on that offer after you regain consciousness, I have no problem having my underlings meet your people.

But above all, I am and will continue to be your Master and Ruler.

(The camera faded to black as DT The Ruler took a sip of his champagne and continued to observe the skyline in his chair)

Diantha Rosso, Alyssa Grace, The Banshee, Felix Hartley and Chad Ecclestone have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos July 6th 2022, 2:54 pm by **DarkCircle**

{The camera comes up and we find ourselves looking right at the man himself, the former OWA Icarus Champion...Ryo Sakazaki, sitting on a stool somewhere with the OWA Icarus Championship still firmly on his right shoulder, looking brighter and cleaner than it ever did previously}

Ryo: You know, it's nice to see just how much the Omega Wrestling Alliance cares for the Icarus Championship. They threaten me with termination if I don't return it by the kick off show and yet when that time comes...*MY* championship and *I* are not even mentioned anywhere but in a passing comment about the piece of shit that stole my championship in Little Jimmy.

Tell me, Little Jimmy, how does it feel to be treated with the exact same amount of respect that you showed *MY* championship...hm? How does it feel to be stepped on like you did to *MY* title after you cheated to win it, you Little Shit...eh?

{Ryo looks at "his" championship with a twisted smile before turning back to face the camera once more before reaching over and patting it with his left hand}

Ryo: Oh and before either of you get some bullshit idea, Rich and Drago, that our match will be a title match for *MY* Icarus Openweight Championship, I hate to be the bearer of bad news but it is *NOT* going to be a championship match because neither of you have done anything to be worthy of fighting *ME* for this title!! As a matter of fact you, Drago, yes...*YOU*!! You are actually automatically not even allowed to challenge for any title here in the OWA due to your horrendous wrestling over in Wrestleworld or Project Honor or whatever giant tire fire that you clamored out of!!

Since you pretty much assume that you are instantly the superior to anyone on this roster with each horrendously odorous boast after another, I don't even think that you'll even cut promo number *ONE* for this match because your ego is so great that you automatically assume that you'll be handed the win based on how great that you are *NOT*, you subdeviant pile of toy poodle waste!!

But you, Rich....you I can talk to and quite possibly have a killer match with.

{Ryo stops and then slowly turns to look at "his title" and then slowly turns his head back to face the camera}

Ryo: But *NOT* a title match for *MY* title here, oh hohohohohoHO!!! Fuck *NO*...you'll only get a shot at this title when you have beaten my Chosen Number One Contender for it in Tyler Kulina!!

Yes, The "Killer Man with the Killer Hair" him*SELF*!!! He is *MY* chosen top contender for the Omega Wrestling Alliance Icarus Openweight Championship and if you think that Little Jimmy has any place to argue that point with me, THE FUCKING *CHAMPION* OF THE ICARUS DIVISION...then you are simply a moronoic fool and need to dragged out behind the chemical shed with a melon baller for help adjust your inability to think!!

...but Rich, I do respect your work ethic and tenacity and I truly believe that one day you'll unseat the "Coward" Jacob Senn as this company's world champion and you'll do it happily and graciously...

{Ryo then reaches up with his free hand to grab a handful of his blonde locks and grips it tightly as he slowly starts to sway on the stool, his eyes becoming dark and sinister}

Ryo: But that time, it ain't now and nor will it ever be "now" for you as you step into my world, looking for a fight against your fucking *SUPERIOR* and a *CHAMPION*...if you think that I'm just going to lay down for you and let you walk all over me, then you've got *another* THING *fucking* coming....NOW DON'T YOU?!

{Ryo lets go of his hair as he looks hard at the camera, licking his lips as he glares long and hard at the camera}

Ryo: Understand that I've worked my fucking ass off, Rich. I've worked my fingers to the bloody, meat shredded *bone* in order to prove myself for this company that seems to only want to push those who look pretty on tv rather than those who are willing to break their own backs for this company. *I* of all people would know this because how many times they have been oh so "gracious" enough to give me a chance at greatness?

They stuck me in a team with the "BASTARD" Arata Asakura for the world tag team titles only to allow him to just up and leave me because he didn't want to work with his FUCKING SUPERIOR...then they kept me from taking the Briefcase that would've given me *MY* rightful shot at any championship and they gave it to someone of lesser talent than *I*...

{Ryo then takes the Icarus championship off of his shoulder and holds it up for the camera to see fully}

Ryo: That is why you're never going to hold this, Rich. Because I fucking worked my fingers to bloody nubs and yet they wanted to give this to an ungrateful little *FUCK* who never deserved her to begin with...Little Jimmy...Little *FUCK* stepped on her when he cheated to win her from me and yet they wanted to punish *ME* for being a SUPERIOR champion than Little Jimmy *FUCK*!!?!?

{Ryo barks out a rather sick, twisted little laugh as he shakes his head before tossing the title back onto his shoulder}

Ryo: ooH-HO...*FUCK NO*!! At Olympus this week, Rich. I'm going to show you exactly what a real champion looks like and I truly hope that you take detailed notes at what your *SUPERIORS* do in that ring....

{The screen then fades to black with Ryo's sick laughter echoing}

Alyssa Grace has spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos July 6th 2022, 10:34 am by **DarkCircle**

{The screen opens to reveal a beautiful shot of the Riverfront Park near the Yangtze river in China, the legendary Three Towns of Wuhan can be seen in the background, the hustle and bustle very obvious as a form of "Background noise" as the screen pulls back to show us the face of a rather serious looking Yuna Kurosawa, dressed in a black business suit, with her arms crossed over her chest as she stands there-a serious pillar of quiet rage amongst the wonderous beauty of the scene}

Yuna: I'm not going to make excuses as I really haven't been that effective in the ring as of late. Is it my fault that the OWA has constantly been putting me against subpar wrestlers that they would rather push than me...perhaps.

Have I let the fact that they would rather push weak ass fucking Barbie's like Felix Hartley, Angelina Magnum, Rebecca Filth, and Marie Bouchard ahead of someone who's beauty is only surpassed by her natural, god given fucking *talent*?

{She shrugs}

Yuna: Well then I guess that's once again on Mister Oasis then, isn't? But come this week's edition of Odyssey while some *whore* is standing in the main event space with her little "live sex celebration", people like my opponent for this week in you, Devi Krysis. You, I can actually respect as an opponent because you're just like me in that you take this sport *seriously* and also just.like.*ME*...you're constantly being made to sit in the back of the bus and forced to watch as those who are completely unworthy of being anything more than the fucking ring crew around here being made champion, to prance around and look pretty for the camera's in their ring gear rather than, I don't know...actually FUCKING *WRESTLE* for their championships!!

{Yuna closes her eyes tightly and then acts like she's trying to push something down as she takes a couple of deep breaths before opening her dark eyes again and looking deeply into the camera}

Yuna: You don't think that I'm ready for you, Devi? Girl, I've been waiting for a serious fight from someone just like you. I've been waiting for someone who's more afraid of failing herself because she didn't hit me hard enough to draw fucking blood than she is to break a fucking nail or two!! I've been *WAITING*, Devi, for a real fucking fight and this week on Odyssey, you've come here to give me just *that*!

A real honest to fucking *GOD* fight and dare I say that it is not me but in fact *YOU* who is not ready for this match because you have been more focused on letting everyone down when you should be more focused on letting yourself down because all of your peeps would be saying the exact fucking thing that I am because it's not your fault that this company is letting the real talent like you and me down...if anything what it is doing to you should be the exact same thing it is doing to me and that is getting you good and righteously pissed the fuck off so that every time from now on when you get into that ring, you should be more focused on beating people down into a bloody, pulpy submission!!

Because that's right where I am at, Devi. I am right at the point where I'm not keeping my rage locked away in some fucking cage but instead I'm letting it right the fuck out so that I can finally get the fight that I've been looking for since I first came here to the Omega Wrestling Alliance and at this week's Odyssey when you step into that ring, you're going to get me at my most violent because you are already walking into our match believing that you're not good enough, that you're not the bad ass bitch that you feel that you should be.

While I'm walking into this match with every bit of violent confidence that you're lacking. And if you beat me, then I'll fucking shake your hand because I know that you're going to try and give me the fight that I've been waiting for.

But understand me, Devi, if I catch you fighting one inkling below what I know full well that you're capable of doing, then don't be surprised if I slap you until you try to snatch the very fucking life from me.

So come to China, enjoy the sights with your peeps and friends, and then come and step into my bloody world, Devi...and come for a fucking fight.

Or just stay home in America.

You're choice.

But in the end, it's not me that needs luck in this fight, girl.

Be seeing you.

{The screen fades to black}

Jeff X, Alyssa Grace, DT The Ruler and Krysis have spoken. It’s such good shit!

c o l l e c t i b l e o p e n w e i g h t e d i t i o n

June 5th, 2022 - Tokyo, Japan | Post-Final Destination

Rebecca Sawyer: Ladies and Gentlemen, the winner of this MATCH AND NEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEWWWW OWA OPENWEIGHT CHAMPION….FELIIIIIIIX HAAARRRRRRTLEYYYYYYYY!

The words replayed over and over in her head as she collapsed onto the floor of the dressing room. The skin on her back, slick with sweat from her four-way battle, touches the cold and unwelcoming white brick of the wall as she slides down slowly to the floor. Once she catches her breath and takes a moment to appreciate the silence instead of the roaring of the crowd, she looks down and almost forgets she was clutching the Openweight Championship.

She grinned to herself. She moved it around in her hands, admiring the different ways the fluorescent lighting illuminated the plating. She picked at the nameplate - carefully, so as to not break one of her beautifully manicured acrylic nails - noticing that, of course, it still had Rebecca’s name on it. She pondered the reign that Rebecca had and the legacy she’s left in OWA so far. To date, she’s the longest reigning Openweight Champion. Whereas the Felix Hartley from EAW and even Kingdom Pro would have sooner lit the belt on fire and laughed at all of those who felt the burn, the Felix Hartley that was hungry for revenge, redemption, and answers saw it as a challenge. She respected her fellow Thotyssey member, but she was determined to take the belt to greater heights. There was a deep desire to DO more. Train more, work more, try more, prove more, wrestle more.

Her entire career all the way back to her debut in 2014 she managed to make headlines whether it was for good or bad reasons. She had no problem being here for fame, money and glory. But naturally as every villain arch tends to go, once something catastrophic happened to her unexpectedly - the death of her mentor and trainer - suddenly the air changed. Suddenly money, fame and glory seemed stupid. She had all of those things in spades, and more. And she had sunken her entire life force into this for what was now almost 10 years.

So, it’s either shit or get off the pot.

She pulled out her phone. She continued to sit idly on the floor of the dressing room, hearing nothing but the faint sounds of the next match. It felt fitting. She opened her text messages and scrolled down a bit to where she had texted Lexi. When she opened the conversation, of course, it was nothing but sent messages. Paragraphs upon paragraphs of blue texts, unread, for the last year or so. She almost started using them as a journal; a way to track her growth both in the ring and…generally as an adult. She began typing.

I did it. I won the Openweight Championship. I fought for it. I listened to my instincts and I did what I had to do in the moment - every moment. My body feels battered. I wish you could have been there to see it and I wish you were here now. I’m sitting alone on the floor of the dressing room and it’s exactly what I did after my Ironwoman match against Serena Bennett at Terminus - remember that? They let you backstage for some reason and you told me about having a target on my back. It’s a lot worse now… these people really hate me but I love it. I thrive off of it. When I was walking backstage just now, nobody could look me in the eye and congratulate me sincerely. It’s incredible. They would have rather died than see me win this belt over someone like Devi Krysis or Daisy Thrash. Watching their favourites go down…it’ll always be satisfying. But it’s a lonely price to pay, I’ll tell you that. No one has my back and in fact, all eyes are on me now to fail. I didn’t realize how much of a safety net you were for me. How much you taught me without really saying anything. But I couldn’t have done this without your tutelage and without your knowledge over the years. Your tough love. Your merciless attitude. My merciless attitude. Not sure if you’re trying to Mr. Miyagi me and make me realize it was me the whole time but either way, I need you to stick around a little longer. ‘Cause this is for you.

She attached a picture of the belt in her lap before hitting Send. And again, as it always did, the blue text went through and would remain unread. She exhaled, leaning her head back against the wall and closing her eyes, clutching the Openweight Championship in her hands.

________________________

“One month. One month ago today OWA crowned its greatest Openweight Champion. God, it’s been so long I forgot how good it felt. Winning the title and beginning my legacy at Final Destination 4 as the 10th champion was one thing, but the cherry on top? Truly? Was watching the faces of Devi Krysis, Daisy Thrash and Violet Cunningham once that bell rang. The disappointment, shame, sadness…Jesus, I mean, Devi went through a whole ass identity crisis and revamped herself just because she couldn’t handle whatever self-pitying gloryhole she got herself into. It’s like, your nicknames weren’t the problem, Devi… it was the fact that you couldn’t out-smart, out-wrestle, or out-gun me that night and clearly you’re not alone.

I’d love to be able to sit here and say I’m glad I never have to deal with their bullshit rants and makeshift arguments as to why I shouldn’t be the Champion but apparently we just give literally anybody second chances for coming in dead last. What I wanted was a challenge but instead I’m being fed the same tired old opponent from my debut match - was the clinic I put on then not enough? Do we honestly think Marie Bouchard is ready to face the Collectible Openweight Edition Barbie when she couldn’t even handle the standard out-of-the-box Felix? Have I not proven that my talent continues to elevate and evolve and I don’t need to cast a fucking spell just to come in 6th at a B.O.B. games competition? Like, tell me you don’t have room on the card for Marie without telling me you don’t have room on the card for Marie for fuck sakes.

Our nights at Final Destination were so different. While Marie got to play a little bit of fuckin’ Ninja Warriors with the rest of the lower card performers, I was taking chair shots and being slingshot outside of the fucking ring by a half-wit half-human & co. so excuse me if I’m a little confused as to why Marie’s reward is a shot at this championship. You know who the last Champion was, right? Rebecca Filth? The same woman who defeated Alyssa Grace at Final Destination and continued to skyrocket her legacy after relinquishing this title that I’M holding? I’ve never claimed to be a rocket scientist but damn this math just isn’t adding up because where does Marie fit into this category? Not to mention she literally got to choose when she wanted to challenge for the title and she chose now. She chose the first show of the season. She woke up and thought, ‘I’m ready for this despite EVERY loss’, and then chose to lose her very first match of the new season kickoff episode of Odyssey. I can’t make this up.

Is it me? Am I the idiot? Did I go blind overnight? Did I have a fucking stroke? Which one is it, because I know it’s not me being disrespected like this by being given an opponent who was placed dead last? I’m tired of y’all “almost” winning. Devi said the same shit over and over and over again like a broken record and look what happened to her. She went into a fucking spiral. I mean damn, I knew I was good, but not ‘give every bitch on Odyssey a complex and force them to reinvent themselves’ good.

Funny how the tone changed, though. I have a feeling I’m going to notice it more often. A lot less talking shit on my name and a lot more haphazard admissions about me being a solid and qualified wrestler. Where was that energy during our debut, Marie? What was your magic little laundry basket telling you then? Cause whatever’s in it sure as shit changed its mind, too. But you know what, here’s some free, on the house advice from the current Openweight Champion - focus on you. Instead of sitting there trying to coyly psychoanalyze me and what makes me tick like you think you could ever figure me out, focus on what you should be improving in order to be on my level. Keep my “self-doubt” out of your mouth because I am literally the most confident person on this roster. I could never do myself so dirty to not think I deserve everything in the world handed to me. The difference is I have that opinion and then I do the work and then I win the titles. Sounds like projection to me but I ain’t trying to give free therapy AND advice because giving you too much of an upper hand would only embarrass you more when you still couldn’t pull off your big season premiere win.

You got too excited. And I understand completely as somebody who didn’t want to wait for their opportunity to snatch gold this early into their OWA career. But you’re a rookie. Greener than grass. The Openweight belt was mine to win the second I signed my name in cursive because, as it was for Filth, it’s a placeholder. It’s a way to show the rest of Odyssey the standard at which you should be performing. Talking. Looking. Acting. It’s a bar that’s set entirely too high for you, even as a placeholder. Filth relinquished the belt because she grew out of the type of competition offered to her at this level and I can safely say I’ll say the same thing when the time comes for me. Maybe by that time, deep into the future - not sure, check your little crystal ball - you’ll be ready to once again TRY and compete for this Championship. Just know that so long as I’m holding it, you’ll never get your ugly, wannabe-witchy hands on it. Bring your magic, bring your little ~dark arts~, because Satan’s my daddy and his little girl always gets what she wants.”

VaeVictisBD, Jeff X, Alyssa Grace, Rebecca Filth, DT The Ruler, Lazarus Arjen and Tyler Kulina have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos July 4th 2022, 9:31 pm by **Lazarus Arjen**

Death.

He was no stranger to the concept. He was no stranger to the loss that came from. He was present when his father met death. He’s seen death take souls in front of his eyes. So when the cage was removed; after Sawyer, when Tyler Wolfe, Remington Prescott, Michael Bishop and Flux Moonstar all were named victorious and all had departed, when he lay on the mat - he felt death consume all that he built in Europe.

November Seventh, Twenty-Twenty One was the day that his ‘family’ left him and the Killjoy Club died.

He was left abandoned.

Ellie Quinn walked away. Maxine Bishop walked away. Christoph Moller walked away. Graham Baker, Andrew Arcus, Harvey Yorke all walked away from him, from Kingdom Pro., from Europe, from the Killjoy Club - all to either vanish, or set out on their own excursions.

He, though, remained.

He, though, buried the flag of the Killjoys as well as himself.

… Until Final Destination.

He knew that ‘he’ existed. He knew that ‘he’ was out there somewhere, and that ‘he’ was a major name in this industry. It was all about timing. Let him believe that he would forget the past. Let the deserter believe that he had left his past behind him and nothing would come of it.

And then watch his eyes widen in horror when he realizes you never outrun your past.

Watch him come to the realization that the devil has his own demons to face. Watch him come to the realization that it’s this particular demon that has the best - the only - chance at killing him.

When Darkane laid eyes on Lazarus Arjen his entire world changed … and not for the better.

His world turned upside down. Fire consumed everything around him and, for once in his life, death began to creep and crawl toward Darkane …

-----------

“Abandoned. Discarded. Forgotten.”

“Do you know what that does to a man’s psyche? Do you know what that leads a man to do? It leads him to do whatever he has to do - in his power - to no longer feel; to make sure that he would be remembered.”

“Do you remember me?”

“Do you remember how with one thrusting move, I slayed a God? Do you remember how I stood over his fallen body and felt his soul leave? I watched as his life source drained away and pooled at my feet; and I remember looking at you and watching you turn a shade of white that I had never seen from you before.”

“You remember me now, don’t you?”

“You remember what you’ve done, don’t you?!”

“...I haven’t forgotten. I will never forget and I am here to be that grim reminder for you. I am here to make sure that you never forget, and everything that I do - from Final Destination - to the time I walk away from this company, is on you.”

“The blood that will be shed will be on your hands, just as much as it will be on mine.”

Lazarus’ voice was cold. He showed no emotion, no empathy, no care for anyone who would later become a victim of his. His hands were lifted, his eyes lowered to them as if they were already literally covered in blood.

Soon they would be.

“Innocent lives are going to be lost. The bodies of my victims, who have nothing at all to do with what happened between us, are going to pile as high as buildings - and it’s all because of you. Kazuya, before I take your final breath - you can turn and look toward Darkane and ask him ‘why’. Why do you have to suffer, when it should be him. Why do you have to be put through excruciating pain, when it should be him. Believe me when I say that this isn’t personal toward you, Kazuya, because I simply do not care about you. If I take your life, I promise you that I will still sleep at night. Your life, your soul, your existence mean less than shit to me…”

“You, Kazuya Iwade, are just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“There’s no reasoning why I want you dead, there’s no reason behind why I plan to drag you through every level of hell, through every level of pain imaginable - other than the fact that you’re a pawn. You and the rest of the OWA roster. You will be used to send a bloody, violent message - a message that will be sent over and over again until I get what I want. I don’t care how long it takes, I don’t care how many people are thrown in front of me. I will paint the OWA crest on the mat with the blood from your veins, and the veins of every victim that will follow you - if that is what I have to do.”

“This isn’t the ‘edgy’ ramblings of someone seeking attention. This isn’t a charade, or me pretending to be something I’m not. Watch as I set fire to all of Europe as my former family and I left nothing but ashes and bodies in our wake. Watch as I victimized everyone in a certain New Orleans based company. All roads have led to this point, all roads have led right back to you. Even though you tried to forget about me, about us - the dregs of society that you took under your wing and helped. Even though you tried to walk away from everything you - we - built; I will not let you go on any further without paying for your actions.”

He lifted a hand, running it through his hair to smooth it back down in place. His head was lowered only for a brief moment, but he lifted his eyes and again found the camera. They were narrowed, but you could still see hatred in them.

“I’ve already said that this has nothing to do with you, Kazuya. Do yourself a favor, stay away. Stay far away from this match unless you want your family to mourn your tragic and violent death. I’ve heard the stories about how you’re a talented wrestler. I’ve heard the stories about you, and I simply do not care. You want to win the match? Try your hardest and do it. I don’t care about match results. I don’t give a fuck whether or not I’m declared the “winner”. The only thing I care about is eviscerating you and anyone else who stands in my way. The only thing I care about is stretching your entrails from one side of the arena to the next, just so long as it gets the point across. The point being; no one is safe. The point being; I will slaughter anyone and everyone that I have to until I get my hands on the person I am here for. You are not that person, therefore you are not even an afterthought. You don’t understand; the things I say aren’t for shock value. The words that I say aren’t ‘threats’, it’s not an exaggeration or some blood fetish fantasy of a pre-teen who caught their first glimpse of ‘Faces of Death’, ‘Saw’ or ‘Hostel’. What you don’t understand is that I will fucking maim you. I will kill you where you stand and have no second thought about it.”

“Where I’m from, I’ve seen things that even the most established and accredited psychiatrists couldn’t help me recover from. Where I’m from, I’ve done things that would turn the stomachs of even the most vile and sadistic man. Charles Manson himself would have dropped to his fucking knees and worshipped us for our depravity. The things I can do, the things I will do to you - and to anyone else unfortunate enough to step on the path that I will carve to my ultimate goal - will be remembered. Not for greatness. Not for the arrival of some bullshit wrestling prodigy who will burn out in six months time. My actions will be remembered as inhumane. As barbaric. As fucking depraved. My actions will be far worse than any hellish nightmare you could ever fathom. Worse than any gruesome horror movie, or snuff video that has ever been recorded. My actions will be deemed immoral, my actions will be deemed wicked, evil, sadistic - and I will grin when every religious zealot group comes for my head. I will grin when every PG-rating, Bible thumping asshole tries to banish me to hell. I will grin and drag my fucking blade across your throat one more fucking time.”

“And I want you to remember; this isn’t personal. I want you to know that everything I put you through, every second of pain, torment and torture, will be shared to everyone else that crosses my path - but will pale in comparison to what I put my target through.”

He paused for a brief moment. His tongue dragged along the bottom of his ridged teeth and his eyes narrowed again as he thought of the reason why he’s resurfaced. A bloodlust consuming him now.

“I want you to know that after I have finished with you; after I have pulled all but your last breath from your lungs, spilled all but your final drop of blood from your veins - I will kneel down beside you, placing my hand on your chest to feel your heartbeat weaken, and I will look directly into your eyes and tell you that there is no God. There is no savior that you will soon meet - because I fucking killed him.”

“And the last thing you will see before you die, Kazuya, is my sinister smile.”

And with that said, that sinister smile he mentioned spread across his face. Chilling. The eyes and the smile burned in our brains, and the voice of a psychopath echoed in our minds on repeat as if it were some sadistic lullaby.

Christopher Sabertooth, Alyssa Grace, Darkane, Rebecca Filth, DT The Ruler, Felix Hartley and Tyler Kulina have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Kingdom July 4th 2022, 1:16 pm by **Mark Michaels**

Changeformers 4: The Nico Borg cut (Waring this film has not been approved by the State Council and anyone who views it may be detained for an unspecified amount of time):

( The scene opens on a dark and cloudy night. A helicopter circled around a towering office building that stretches seemingly forever, as if it was built to reach heaven itself. Inside the tower a squad of armed henchmen ready themselves as a last line of defense.)

Henchman #1: GET TO COVER HE’S ON HIS WAY!

???: Stop him you fools, shoot on sight if need be!

( Out from the shadows of the room steps the villainous Roberto Silencio, and his evil cat whiskers.)

Roberto Silencio: The data Transfer is nearly completed, just give enough time to-

BOOOM

( Suddenly the door crashes open. Sitting in its frame is a black Ducati 1199 motorcycle, and seated on the bike is…

Dr. Dick P. Slaughter, PHD)

DPS: Give it up Roberto, this ends here!

Roberto Silencio: This does end here… For you Dick! KILL HIM!

Henchman #1: ATTACK FORMATION DELTA!

( the goons all rush at Dick in a straight line single file. Dick revs the throttle and pops a wheelie. The Henchmen fire their guns, Bullets spark and Ricochet off the underside of the bike before Dick brings the motorcycle crashing down on the hired guns killing all of them in one fell swoop.)

DPS: Talk about a road rash.

Roberto Silencio: You’re too late Dick, with one single press of a button I’ll have all that I need, and the world will be mine.

( as Silencio monologues, Dick scans the room. He notices a pipe marked Gas hanging over head which must have been punctured by one of the stray bullets. His eyes dart across the floor and by his foot he spots a grenade resting on the stock of a guard’s AK-47. The whirling blades of the helicopter catch Dick’s attention as it hovers outside the window. A plan has been hatched.)

Silencio: This is the end of the road Dick.

DPS: Who said anything about needing a road?

( With a stomp to the AK’s barrel end, Dick springboards the grenade, Slaughter snatches the explosive out of the air.)

DPS: Here Kitty Kitty.

( Dick pulls the pin and rolls the Grenade along floor. Silencio’s cat can’t help it’s instincts, and leaps out of his owners arms to chase after the grenade.)

Roberto Silencio: Whiskers, NO!

( Silencio rushes after his pet, never noticing Slaughter flooring the Ducati towards the large glass window.)

Roberto Silencio: Come here baby, give daddy the grenade.

( Silencio quickly scoops up his cat whilst fumbling around with the grenade. Finally He wrangles in the grenade just as the explosive detonates. Slaughter crashes through the glass as the room erupts into flames. The force of the explosion propellers Dick just far enough to leap off the bike and grab onto the foot of the chopper. A few seconds pass by with Slaughter dangling from the chopper before it’s door slides open revealing Slaughter’s love interest for the week Chastity St. Claire)

Chastity: Are you alright?

DPS: Oh you know, I’m hanging in there.

Chastity: Stop clowning around and get in.

( Slaughter is able to pull himself up and into the chopper.)

Chastity: And here I was thinking I had missed the fireworks. What happened to Silencio?

DPS: Last time I saw him he was chasing some pussy. Say How fast can we get this thing to China?

Chastity: China?! What’s there? Pirate gold? The fountain of youth? A rare Diamond of unspeakable value that happens to be a piece in an elaborate puzzle?

DPS: Nah, I’m headed to Shanghai for nothing more than a good ol’ fashioned fight.

Chastity: A fight? Haven’t you left enough bodies in your wake for one holiday weekend?

DPS: Cmon One more won’t hurt.

Chastity: Dick, no. What’s so important you have to go half way around the world just to get in another fight?

DPS: Because I’m making my Debut for OMEGA Wrestling Alliance this week on Sunday Night Kingdom. A brand filled with Gods, Imortals, and a shit load of otherworldly beings that I’m fixing to send straight back to hell. This is a land of Alpha’s, And when you’re the biggest Alpha male of them all like I am, you don’t back away from a fight. So This Sunday night, I’ll be back in action competing in the Dark Kingdom tournament, where the winner will receive honor, glory, and a mystery prize that has yet to be reviled. With any luck, it will be something with a whole bunch of zeros at the end of it.

Chastity: A mystery prize?

DPS: And You know that Whenever there’s a mystery, I’ll be on the case. Let’s see those meddling kids and their dog beat me to this payday.

Chastity: Right, So instead of coming home with me, you’re flying out to China to fight someone, and you don’t even know what for? Do you at least know who you’re fighting?

DPS: Some kid.

Chastity: That’s it? Some kid?

DPS: Yeah, looks like I’m his first fight or something.

Chastity: Jesus, so you don’t even know what this guy can do in the-

DPS: It doesn’t matter baby.

( Dick raises up both his fists.)

DPS: Old Thunder and Lighting here will smash that bottom feeding, scum sucking, degenerate card shark into sushi. I’m 262 pounds of all American muscle, with a double shot of adrenaline running through my veins to boot. I’m looking for a fistful of dollars, so I’m throwing fistfuls of dynamite when they land square on the jaw. I’m hitting with bad intentions, ready to kick his head clean off his shoulders, and use whatever’s left as a door mat to wipe the mud off my boots.

Chastity: Jesus, for someone you don’t know, you must not like this guy.

DPS: It’s nothing personal, but if you’re gonna throw down in a death match with Dick P. Slaughter, well just ask the five guys in the building I just blew up how they think the fight’s gonna go. I am a mushroom cloud laying mother fucker. So whatever The wheel of misfortune has in store for me, Whether it’s scorpions, land minds, barbed wire, or just plain old bare knuckle, hit the other guy till you can see the brain damage, I’m striking first, striking hard, and expect no mercy

Chastity: Dick, I’m worried you’re luck is gonna run out one of these days.

DPS: Luck is for pussies. I’ve got skills to pay the bills, and I’m tougher than a leftover $2 steak that’s been over cooked. I’m locked and loaded, and ready to show everyone exactly why they call me the boom slayer. It’s no Bullshit when I say that This whole tournament is right up my alley, so I’m not pulling any punches, and all my opponents are getting it with both barrels when the bell rings. Whooping ass is my business, and business is good, so that means that everyone on Kingdom looking for a fight, better get ready, because from where I’m sitting there’s only two ways this can end, and in both of them I my hand raised and spend my night sleeping on top of a pile of money with many beautiful ladies surrounding me. this tournament is my kind of party. This Sunday night, I’m bringing the dip and a whole case of whoop ass for all these bastards to suck down on, So this Sena kid, along with all the rest of the brackets, are more than welcome to come get some of OWA’s newest action hero. Because I’m calling my shot right now, I’m saying it plainly and simple that I’m winning it all in the Dark Kingdom Tournament, because there’s nobody with balls of steel big enough to win this tournament quite like me. Anyone who thinks otherwise is going down faster than the XFL.

My name is Dick P. Slaughter, remember that when you mail back the boot I left in your ass.

( with that we cut to a shot of the helicopter flying off into the sunrise.)

The End.

Dick P. Slaughter will return in Big Bombs and Happy little trees: The Bob Ross story.

Alyssa Grace, "Killer Bee", DT The Ruler and Tyler Kulina have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Rise of la Leyenda Mexicana July 4th 2022, 6:21 am by **liver alone**

[ The scene would open up to a seemingly empty room. There was no crowd noise, nor were there any background altercations going on. However, after a few seconds, a figure made its way on camera. A figure that belonged to the newest member of OWA; Alejandro de Leon. The competitor did nothing but gaze into the camera for a spell. It wasn't that he didn't want to talk. It's that he wanted to allow the tension to be nurtured. He was new on the scene and figured it would be best if the people at home got a good look at him. And a good look they did! Alejandro was dressed up from top to bottom with the latest suit fashions. His shoes alone probably cost more than every number had ever shouted in his lifetime. But that was beside the point. No, Alejandro, after getting his bearings and gathering his composure would then sigh through his nose. A small sign of his preparedness. And then, he'd nod his head, signaling his readiness to speak. ]

OWA Promos - Page 3 N0dUzS8

"Buenas Noches, OWA. Feel free to adjust your contrast, squint harder, or even rub your cloth against the screen. Do as you must, and the end result will remain the same. Because standing before you? Oh, standing before you is greatness wrapped in a mortal coil. Do you not see it? Alejandro flashed a smug grin, winking at the screen in the process. You have all been selected. Selected to take part in witnessing the grand debut of Alejandro. That's me, of course. One of the greatest technicians you've ever seen. One of the greatest professional wrestlers on this planet. One absolute definitive lover of the beautiful women populating this earth. Yes, la Leyenda Mexicana will be making his grand debut. And in this debut, I face an obstacle far from great. I face an obstacle that I liken to be subpar... above average at best. This man? You know this man as Sir Donovan T. Or, DT The Ruler, as I'm told he likes to be called. But this... Alejandro began sucking his teeth, shaking his head, and waving his finger. This will not work. It will not fly now that El Jefe is here. And why? Because this man is no ruler. This man holds no true power, he exudes no real Jefe energy. And the reason as to why is very simple. It's because the world does not move on his dime. The world doesn't wait for when DT wants to defend. He wishes it so but it couldn't be further from actual reality. No, the reality of the situation? I'll tell you the reality of the situation. And it's oh so easy to digest. The simple reality is that this DT... I've never heard of him. Mi Familia, we've never heard of him. Yet, and I hear through the grapevine, he's some sort of businessman. The Cartel? We've never heard of him. And that's because his persona, the man he oh-so claims to be, is nothing more than a facade. He has fooled himself but most importantly he's fooled you all. He said in regard to the people tuning in to watch this. Fooled you all into believing his hype. Fooled you all into believing that a true master and ruler is someone who's seen behind bars. Because I can assure you, real Jefe's are connected as they come. And what you're all witnessing today? Is the first coming of the true master and ruler... of OWA."

[ That smug grin was still present on his face for a moment. It soon dropped, however, as Alejandro lifted his head, squinted his eyes, and prepared some heat. ]

"I mean, come on, now? Does it surprise any of you that OWA would place the King Chicano against this DT in my first bout? If so, why? I am, after all, the better man. I am, after all, the better wrestler. And after our showcase against one other? I'll prove that I am, after all, the better champion. A nod of his head as he agreed with his own words. He'd run his hands through his hair, assuring everything was still in place before continuing. You see, it took your precious ruler many months to climb this mountaintop. It took him path after path after path. Until the end, he had no choice but to succeed or be labeled a failure. Now, that my friends, is called luck. Sure, I am the new party to these lands. Admittedly, I'm not as caught up in the legacies as I should be. I know not if your DT holds more wins than losses or vice versa. But what does this matter? What would it even prove? Because at the end of the day, no matter how many wins he has received. It took him the end of a season to obtain his first piece of championship gold here. Shaking his head, Alejandro displayed simple disgust for the champion. In an act to prove such, Alejandro spat at the ground. Where I'm from, this is considered pathetic. And it only goes to prove that your DT did more studying the history of the championship than he did actually learning how to better his craft in the ring. I make no such mistakes as I know who I am. Alejandro is not a historian. Alejandro does not need to know who held what, why they held it and when they held it. Because everyone before Alejandro is absolutely insignificant. No, all I need to do is show up, enter the squared circle and run laps around the opposition. He shrugged those shoulders of his very lightly. And that's exactly what I'm going to do."

"At the end of the day, I get it, DT. This is your first championship defense. This is the first showcase of if you're truly the ruler you say you are. You don't want to drop the strap to me. Trust me, hermano. I understand your plight. I understand the anxiety you must be going through. Alejandro placed a hand on his own chest, pretending to empathize with the champion. But I need you to do something for me, DT. I need you to listen to me and I need you to listen well. I am not one of these other men you have become accustomed to. I am not some plaything you can walk through. Who I am is much greater than that. I am the one who's going to take that championship from around your waist and put it around mine. This isn't bravado, this isn't even confidence talking. I am confident, but this, this is fate, ese. This is much more than your Mr. Clean skull can comprehend. You've truly been left in the dark. But allow me to illuminate you. And now he had shifted into all the way serious. He pointed down at the ground before continuing on. There's a reason why I walk in and I am given an opportunity for a championship. It's because this company knows I'm no mere mortal. This company knows Alejandro is not just another competitor. No, OWA understands that behind this flesh, blood, and bone ... lies a beast untamed. They know behind these eyes is a real pain, true pain, actual conviction. I don't simply talk the talk, DT. I am the talk. I'm the talk of the town wherever I may go. And it just so happens that my newest destination is right here. More nodding of his head as he continued on. Sweat began to build on his forehead, indicating how worked up he was becoming. But it didn't even stop him then. So, I suggest you get your affairs in order, Mr. DT. I suggest you kiss that championship, caress it, whatever it is you need to do. Take as many selfies as you can... because, after Kingdom, there will be another man sitting as the Outlaw Champion. And that man's name is none other than Alejandro de Leon. And DT, I hope, no, I pray you bring nothing but your best. I really do pray for this. Because when the smoke clears and the debris fades. I want you to know you did all that you could. I want you to know in your heart of hearts that you threw everything at la Leyenda Mexicana. And that even then... your best... still wasn't enough. Alejandro lifted his head, turning up his nose as he finished. The time for evolution is now, I'm afraid. You walk the path of a false champion and it brings me no pleasure to be the one to judge you. But I will... and only then will you understand that each and every time you or whoever faces off against me?"

[ After delivering his message, he winked at the camera and would begin adjusting his cuff links. Alejandro then began whistling before walking off and away from the view of the camera. As there was no one else to conduct this promo, the scene would come to a close. The screen fades off to black to end this exclusive production. ]

Diantha Rosso, Alyssa Grace, DT The Ruler, Chad Ecclestone and Tyler Kulina have spoken. It’s such good shit!

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