OWA Promos

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Re: OWA Promos June 6th 2023, 11:26 pm by **Matsuda**

Clash Promo #1

“HBIC”

Post-Olympus.

The newest incarnation of World’s Finest was quiet as they made their way backstage, as the crowd's roar and Cloud’s theme became distant background noise. Matsuda knew Tres Comas would try some shit and kept the squad ready in case some fuckery was at play. This wasn’t her first rodeo and it certainly won’t be her last. Beside her, the boys wore serious expressions, but there was an unspoken relief that they were allies. Cloud wasn’t the only one familiar with everyone; Carlos has years of history with Nobi while he trained with Ryo several times and even crossed paths with him at one time or another. Nobi was friends with everyone in the industry - except a certain blonde in another company - and Ryo held a great amount of respect for Rosso and the White Knight. As Matsuda stopped in front of her locker room, she spotted her and Carlos’ agent Mao Ichimichi with her phone at hand. It was already discussed that Mao would join WF as their manager. Sam Garza was busy at the moment and Monica was cultivating a career in Japan at the moment. Cloud needed someone with management experience to handle the day-to-day operations, and the woman formerly known as Poison was perfect for the job.

Stephanie Matsuda: Great job, boys. I’ll see you in the parking lot. We’ll ride out together. Mao, you’re with me.

All three men went on their own as Matsuda and Mao headed into the locker room. As soon as Mao started going over the day’s items, Cloud headed for the shower while undressing. Mao took the American Dream Championship and placed it on the bench.

Mao Ichimichi: Well, the reformation of the World’s Finest has certainly gained some traction on social media, followed by questions about former members. It looks like people want to see the old WF reunite sometime in the future, though half of them don’t have OWA contracts. People are happy to see Nobi again.

Mao could hear Cloud’s voice over the running water.

Stephanie Matsuda: Who doesn’t love Nobi! He’ll do great with the kids!

Mao Ichimichi: As you predicted a lot of older and loyal fans are ecstatic to see you reunite with ‘Los since the Zaibatsu days. Others think you can push Ryo Sakazaki in the right direction.

Stephanie Matsuda: Great! That’s the idea! I know he had a falling out with Frontline; I want to guide him back to shore.

Mao Ichimichi: As you will. This is also having a positive effect on our shareholders within Zaibatsu Sports. A lot of talent in combat sports is going to want to sign with us if we continue to stay relevant. This will also increase our sales in C9 clothing and upcoming World’s Finest merch.

Stephanie nodded as if she already knew this was going to be a thing. She was deeply focused on the task at hand. She started washing her hair.

Stephanie Matsuda: Good. Remember Mao – we’re fighting a war on two fronts. We’ll never be able to outspend Tres Comas, but we can win the culture war and we can beat them in the ring. As long as I hold the American Dream Championship I have the edge over my Allesandro. They can have all the money in the world, but it’s not worth anything if you don’t have the love of the people.

Mao Ichimichi: So in your eyes, The American Dream Championship is more of a “People’s Championship” kind of title than anything else?”

Stephanie Matsuda: Precisely. I’ve always thought if it that way. As proud as I am of my title reigns, that belt there (points) is the one that shaped my destiny the most. Even if it’s not the most prestigious trophy in my set of accolades.

Mao Ichimichi: Dare I ask – which belt would that be?

Stephanie’s eyes drifted off as she thought deeply about the gold she’s held. She valued everything she’s won over the years, but the IWC holds certain belts over others. As much as she enjoyed the god-like run she had in 2020, 2015-2018 marked the two titles that the IWC would define her by outside the AD Championship: the JET World Championship and the EAW Undisputed Women’s Championship.

Stephanie Matsuda: I’ll keep that to myself if you don’t mind.

Mao Ichimichi: Of course. This plan to reap financial rewards…what are we doing with the capital?

Stephanie Matsuda: Funding for our non-profit endeavors.

Stephanie turned off the shower, and walked out of stall while grabbing a towel to dry off her body. She toss the towel to the side after reaching her locker. Mao have seen her nude countless times. Both women’s mind were on business at the moment. Her agent had a discerning look on her face as she watched Cloud get dressed. She knew there was something else The Sky Queen was planning.

Mao Ichimichi: And..?

Stephanie took her time to answer while getting dressed. An uneasy silence fell between the two as Matsuda made sure Mao’s eyes was on her figure. She wasn’t legitimately trying to seduce her agent; she just liked messing with her.

Stephanie Matsuda: Resources for our campaign against the Ghost Organization.

Mao’s mouth hung open for a moment. Stephanie was a declaring war on the very people who held her prisoner for weeks. Mao didn’t think it was a smart move – especially since Stephanie wasn’t no secret agent or law enforcer.

Mao Ichimichi: Last time you crossed paths with them they held you, Jaydane Pendragon, and Claudia Michaels in prison! They took over an entire island in one night! And when we were looking for you last time, the research I came across exposed that they yield higher numbers than anticipated.

Stephanie Matsuda: I know. I have professionals keeping an eye on them and they don’t come cheap. As for the action portion of the campaign…well let’s just say I have some allies who are looking for a fight. The most dangerous one is a friend of a friend.

Stephanie looked at Mao briefly and winked. Mao rolled her eyes and signed.

Mao Ichimichi: I know better than to try and stop you.

Stephanie just smiled as she finished getting dressed and grabbed her duffle bad. Mao followed her out of the locker room.

----

“Life’s a bitch, then you die. That’s the mantra I choose to live by. An odd set of words for someone as successful as myself, but fuckery doesn’t see green. Nor does it see Black, White, Black and Yellow, or any taste of the rainbow. And if karma’s a part of life, well I guess that makes that a bitch too, because it certainly bit you in the ass like a dog this last Olympus. You tried every card in your hand Ally McDevastation and you still lost. You called your dad, your rich uncle, and your pillow princess of a heavyweight champion, and guess what? Everything still blew up in your face. Now you might boil it down to simple luck, sweets, but nah, I know you better than you know yourself. You love using every dirty trick in the book, especially when said tricks are able to get you over in some kind of way. You love owning the conversation, controlling the narrative, finding ways to change public opinion. But when it comes to you and I, once again I demonstrate that the people will always pick me over you. That’s the way love goes, sweets. My refusal to stay down during our Triple Threat Match reminded them of the true American spirit – an indomitable will that refuses to stay down. Like a loyal bitch beside her owner, I will always have the people’s best interests in mind. And in this pound puppy dog yard, I’m the Head Bitch.”

Stephanie smiled and rubs her chin.

“So if life’s a bitch and I’m the ‘Head Bitch in Charge’ on Olympus then that means I pretty much define your life, AD. You can’t not think about me, not speak about me, or not look my way. The more I disgust you the more you find ways to involve yourself in my business. I get it sweets – sometimes I’m in love with me too. Sometimes you hate your enemy so much to does a 180 to your emotions and you end up caring about them a lot more than you should. Look at April and myself. You can almost feel the weird ass sexual tension we got going on. But hey, sometimes it be like that. And as much as I would like to help guide you through your weird obsession with me, sometimes you got to do things on your own. Like this billionaire boys’ club ya’ll got going on. After Nate Cage dropped the bag, your pops and Jaywalker saw blood in the water. You saw a weak, vulnerable brand, abandoned by its forefathers, embraced by the chaos of an eccentric Englishman. You saw easy pickings. In some ways, I can’t blame Tres Comas for making the move. But, after Civil War, I’ve grown tired of seeing the same shit every day. When the Rich Uncle Pennybags of the world tip their Monopoly hats and poison the well, it’s the people who suffer. It’s the hard working, up and coming wrestlers who just quit their blue collar jobs for a shot at immortality who take the hit. You promise them fame and fortune and then pull the rug from underneath their feet when it’s time to establish your ‘Fed Legacy’. That’s what cashing in the Sapphire briefcase was all about, sweets. You wanted to take from me because of the sole reason that it wasn’t something you possessed. Now that I think about it, makes sense why you’re not screwing over RIP. Because you and your father already OWN the Immortal Heavyweight Championship. The title holder is in your pocket so therefore there’s no need to take it off him. But the American Dream Championship? It was the belt that got away. You were so desperate to get it back in your hands that you forced April to take it out of retirement, only to send it back in my hands.”

Stephanie shrugged and shook her head.

“I hate that I to pin her. Sure, I got shrug it off and think about how she dethroned me before I walked into FD 4 with the Women’s World Championship, but we squashed our beef after that match. We had no business bumping heads again. Maybe in that head of yours you thought you was several steps ahead. Maybe you thought you could turn us against each other. But all you did was give us a fair fight. After the smoke cleared and the fuckery was pacified, April and I was able to get down the business and do what we do best. But, alas, here we are. You’re crying about how I didn’t pin you, how I survived because I escaped your wrath or whatever. But did you ever stop and think that maybe you escaped from MINE!? You could’ve taken the stray L and went about your merry way. But no, you’re just too stubborn, too prideful, too privileged to lose against a ‘mongrel’ like me, huh? It eats you on the inside and gets under your skin that you can neither beat me nor have me as yours. Heh, get in line sweets. Between the bitter men and even pettier ex-girlfriends, I could make a rouges gallery out of those who thought they had my number one way or another. You’re not as special as you think, sweets. You’re not even my third biggest rival. Hell, you barely make the top five. I’ll give you that number six spot, fo sho. So I guess that’s winning on your part, right? You get to use your influence to force me into another match – this time a Dog Collar match!? Heh, so desperate to put me in my place, huh?”

Stephanie sighs and likes her lips.

“Dog collars and leashes? I’ve done freakier shit in bed. Being bound to you in the ring doesn’t freak me out, Ally. Maybe you think we’re bound by some weird fate, but honestly it’s just your green and daddy’s power doing the talking. The rivalries between Aria, Azumi, and myself? That’s fate. My epic seven year story with April Song? Stuff of freaking legends. My upcoming match with Tyler Wolfe at Cinderella Story? Written in stone. I know you want to be my greatest rival, sweets. I know you want to poach from my legacy like your daddy is doing right now with RIP. I know you want to suck every ounce of what makes me who I am from my veins, but you can’t have it, sweets. You can’t handle the best of me, nor can you endure the worse of me. Manufacture our story as much as you like. The reality will never change. You was a fourth-rate wrestler hanging amongst a third-rate stable and besides Claudia hogging the AD Championship for herself despite being an architect, you all kissed her feet. From you, to Evil Pizza Boy, to a young, nubile Jason Long. And what did she leave all with? A Sapphire briefcase so you can cash in on my dream. You’re not a dream maker, Ally. You’re a dream thief. You steal from others and manufacture what makes them special to fit you. Hell, everything about you changed throughout the years. I remember when you was a cool, flippy guy with washboard abs and an unexpected case of narcissism. Then you got big and turned into a Great Value Jason Momoa. And now? Holy Billy Idol, Batman! You’re like if Roy Batty banged Geese Howard-era Michael Douglas and if you’re nerdy enough to get that then I don’t feel so alone in the this world. This “All-American shit is just two mongrels and a mutt reference from turning into an American History X nightmare. You’re no different than every other man who doesn’t get his way, sweets. You cry and cry while throwing money at the problem, hoping you can solve it. You bought your way to the top of Olympus. You bought yourself another shot at the American Dream Championship. But what you really purchased sweets, the thing you don’t realize you walked into is a trap of your own making. You spent so much time trying to big wig me, threaten me, and call me out my name that maybe, just maybe I wanted to be in a match where you can’t escape from me. Maybe just maybe I beat April so you would feel dissatisfied and go after me in an attempt to prove you’re better than me? Maybe just maybe I knew if I could hold it down, then I could lure you into this trap of mine.”

Stephanie started laughing and smiled at her words.

“Maybe…just maybe I wanted this match before you even realized what was going on. You’re so predictable sweets. So impulsive and predictable. But you’re MY predictable and impulsive rich kid. Yes, Ally it’s YOU who belongs to me. I own you, sweets. I define the man you were, the man you are, and the man you’re going to be. When that collar goes around your neck, you become MY pet and nobody else’s. I’ll get to pull you around however I want, dominate you, and walk away with the belt still on my shoulders. Sure it’s not the Immortal Heavyweight Championship, but the American Dream Championship means something to me. It’s my goddamn superhero cape. But speaking of the IHC, I have higher ambitions in just being the AD Champion. What I want is to expand my options. I’ve already established myself as the first person to fight on three brands. And now, I shall be the first to unify the AD Championship with the Immortal Heavyweight Championship, thus making me halfway to being the first to hold every OWA World Championship, because what you’ll see in this match, what you’ve seen in our triple threat match is a woman who is capable of anything once she’s in the flow, once she’s present as the danger is happening. I’m ready for whatever fuckery you have plan, sweets. But know and understand this: Once I collar you, you’re mine. Life’s a bitch, and I’m the head of it. This ‘old school’ style match is just another failed attempt at getting over with the fans. But need not worry, sweets. I have enough clout to carry us to next year’s Final Destination. Stick with me, work hard to be my greatest rival, and I promise you Ally that you’ll be more well-known next to me than you ever had your entire life. Get ready to be colored and owned, sweets. Like every other ex who came my way. Lover or rival, it all ends the same way anyway…”

Stephanie leans towards the camera and licks her lips.

“With me on top.”

Alyssa Grace, Elijah Hampton, 'Don' Hendrix, Remington Ivory Prescott, DT The Ruler, Felix Hartley, Brody and RexMaddox have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos June 6th 2023, 10:13 pm by **marielacorriveau**

Where Power Lies

Clash 2

“How long has it been since we last spoke, Marie?”

Foggy field. Taste of cold rain in the air. Marie’s vision is a swarm of blue, green, grey, sun bleached straw and-

She takes one deep, steadying breath after another. She’s been here before, she can feel it. The wooden table under her hands, the misty nothingness all around them, making the edges of the barren, muddy field blur like the edge of reality, like a dream.

Because it is a dream, and she’s had this dream before.

On a plane, a lifetime ago, freshly partnered with a dead woman. She could recreate it all from memory, the crisp air, the thick fog, every detail etched into her brain forever.

“Do we count you possessing Bex?” Marie says finally, looking up into the veiled face of the woman sitting across from her.

“No. That was just a passing bit of fun.”

“Then it’s been almost a year. It was… last August, I think, when you invaded my head.”

“Invaded.” The figure waves a hand dismissively. “Check your pocket.”

Marie does, and pulls out a flat pack of cigarettes, the gold foil on the filter glinting dimly in the diffused light fighting through the fog. She lights one with the tip of her finger and takes a drag.

“I never understood it. Even in my time, that new world weed. Rotting teeth and mouths, turning men to corpses. My poison is much faster, hein? Much more effective.”

“My great grandmother lived to one hundred and four. I think I’ll be okay.”

“Oh yes, she did. But her daughter, your grandmother… terrible shame, that one.”

Marie looks at her sideways, but dismisses the thought. Another trick to draw her into anger. She’s not that easy to bait. Not outside of work, anyway.

“So, you bring me back here. You give me cigarettes. You haven’t insulted me yet. You want something, and you think you can make me give it to you. Why don’t you just come out and ask so I can say no.”

“Ah, but you want something too. So it’s not just a request. It’s a bargain.”

“Do I look like Hana Nakajima?”

“Don’t lump me in with some ravening demon.”

“Different paths, same destination. You’re sick of being stuck in a box, you got a taste of having a body, however intractable, when you took over Bex. You want one you can move around in freely, and you think I’m stupid enough to get so deep in your games that I’ll surrender my own. The answer is no.”

“I don’t want your body. I want your name. I misjudged this game of yours.”

“You? Misjudging me? What a strange and terrifying turn of events for you, with you already being trapped in a box. Misjudging me, underestimating me, that’s what got you stuck in there. Don’t act like this is new.”

“There is something new, though. Isn’t there? That ornament on your altar.”

Marie snorts and taps some ash off the end of her cigarette. “My belt? Why do you care?”

“You know why I care, don’t act stupid.”

Marie takes another long drag, taking her time as she tips her head back and exhales a perfect stream of blue-white smoke.

It’s not that she doesn’t know. It’s that she’s surprised the spirit caught on so fast. She thought she’d have at least a few months before that miserable old bitch realized the shift in power in the old house. Maybe she had had that time. After all, this was her third belt, however brief her other reigns were. It had been gathering steam for a while.

The power of names. The power of the crowd. The power of thousands of people knowing who she is, buying tee shirts, cheering for her. It’s not just the soft power of influence, it’s a very literal, very magical, power.

And now the spirit wants it too.

“I’m not giving you shit.” Marie says finally.

“I’m asking for a fair exchange. I help you win this… thing that you’re competing in next, you help me. You take my name, make it yours, like your Full Metal Whore and your Daddy Issues Barbie. Add my name to yours, make people call for me again, and I will give you all the power I have, power that will only grow with your own. I help you win, and then I push you further, and further.”

“And with every win I get, you get more powerful, because your name is attached to mine like a remora to a shark.”

“A remora doesn’t sharpen a shark’s teeth.”

“I don’t need you to sharpen my teeth. I got here without you, hein? You’re late to the party, madame. I’m a Champion without you, and I can win this without you too.”

“But what about that soft heart, Marie?”

Marie rolls her eyes. “The same thing that happened the other times I won. It will survive.”

The figure laughs behind the shifting layers of deep blue fabric, and though Marie can’t see her face, she knows the cruelty in those eyes. She saw them a long time ago, though the blue flame of a holy fire, before she bottled the nasty old cow.

“Oh, my little dove. You did not have to worry about it before, did you? You were on the side of the righteous. You sent away Havoc, you put its empty vessel in her place, you had no reason to hold back.”

“I know you’re stuck in a box, but it wasn’t my first belt. I beat Alyssa and Liz too. And I pinned Raivo.”

The spirit huffs. “A demon’s ally and a traitor, should I think you cared more for them than Hana?”

“Of course I did. I cared about Alyssa.” Marie protests.

“You respected Alyssa, with great difficulty I may add. But there was no part of you that hesitated, was there? No part of you that said, I cannot do this to Alyssa, I cannot break her heart. It is not the same.”

“You think I don’t have the balls to beat my friends in the Clash.”

“Stop sheltering yourself from the truth with your vulgarity. You don’t have the heart.”

“If there are thirty entrants in the Clash, there are twenty nine losers. Those are just the facts of the situation. Twenty nine women going home disappointed. It’s anybody’s game, that’s the point.”

“Oh, but you don’t really believe that, do you? You don’t think anyone could win. You don’t even think you can win, I see it in you.”

“Tonomi, unproven, barely a factor. Aalyah, same thing, barely even worth mentioning. Apollonia, Freya, Jamie, all of them-”

“They are not the point, Marie. The others are.”

“Like who? Dani Fatale? Cassie Wu? Am I supposed to be scared of a second rate tag team in a division gutted of its top competitors? Violet is dead, or she and I would still have those titles. It’s the same shit with Josie and Gwen. I mean, what will the division look like after this anyway? Gwen had her whole thing literally hunting Josie, I don’t have anything personal against them, but what happens when one has a chance to eliminate the other? Are either of them going to have a cool enough head to wait to try and eliminate the other? Do any of these teams have any loyalty?”

“Like your loyalty to Violet?”

Marie tenses.

“Yes. Like my loyalty to Violet.”

“And where was that loyalty, when it was every woman for herself? For the championship you now hold?”

Marie stiffens. “That was a long time ago.”

“Not that long ago, Marie. Not so long that you’ve forgiven yourself, is it? And I think there may be one team you’re forgetting.”

“Ruri and Rin?” Marie scoffs. “Yeah, I’m so scared. Rin is still a megalomaniacal sociopath. They may be friendly now, sure, but let’s not forget what Rin was doing a little while ago. She helped hold that gun to Ruri’s head, and Ruri was so on the edge over that whole situation she almost pulled the trigger herself. I’m not exactly Ruri’s biggest fan, but Rin hasn’t proven herself a great asset. She allied herself with a demon because it was possessing a Japanese woman. That’s not great critical thinking. But Ruri is a big girl, she can make the same mistake over and over again if she really wants to.”

She pauses, her diatribe leaving one thing unanswered. “I don’t need to forgive myself. Just like I don’t need to forgive myself for not taking Diantha’s briefcase. What we did, what happened, it wasn’t… it wouldn’t have been stopped if Havoc wasn’t champion. It wouldn’t have been stopped if Diantha didn’t cash in. The pieces were all in place, the collision was coming, nobody could have stopped that.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Are we done?”

“No. Because you haven’t talked about the people you are worried about.”

“Tabernak, you want me to talk about Ellie? Rebecca Brookes? What about Jessica Rose?”

The figure is silent.

“Ellie has been amazing… sneaking up on people. Making a point. But that hasn’t really translated to doing anything, has it? Rebecca’s cute, sure. But she’s sitting in the same tier of show me something or wait for BOBW to come back. Jessica Rose came back to lots of fanfare and didn’t do shit with it, but at least she’s got time to turn it around. Do I think she’ll do it this weekend? Absolutely not, but there’s still time.”

“Marie, you’re only wasting your own time. I can keep you here as long as I want.”

Marie ashes her cigarette and lights another one, waving her off. “I don’t care about wasting our time, madame. But fine, I’ll play. You want to hear about the big girls. You want to see me wilt under the name Bea Havertz, or Bethany Hastings.”

“You put them in the same category?”

“Of course not. Bethany has done something here. I mean, Bea has too I guess, she’s won a match. But Bethany is, no matter how much it burns me, a champion. A placeholder champion, who doesn’t deserve to hold that belt, but a champion. Bea just blew in to subject us to all of this bullshit. Can’t punch my way out of a paper bag.” She laughs. “Little witch puns. Very low hanging fruit. No, madame. She’s not in the same category, she’s just done us the honour of showing her face to insult better women. Bethany has too, of course, she had a lot to say, I just don’t really believe her. She’s a populist figurehead who thinks she can, somehow, tame the tiger that dragged her home into chaos. I’m from the country that spawned Margaret Atwood, I know a Serena Joy when I see one. No, she’s stuck in a terrible little dilemma. Be the empowered woman in charge she believes she deserves to be, or keep her base. They always cannibalize their own, you know. Say what they want, and they adore you, finally, a good woman. Step out of line, and the horde makes a meal of you. And because she has made her stand denigrating every other woman on this roster, there’s no one to go to when it happens. Just Leona, and I don’t know if she can keep her hold when her self confidence finally limps off to the grave. Besides, Bex has already turned one minion into her boyfriend, I really don’t think Leona will hold out much longer than Eddie did. She can always tag me in on that one too, I’m happy to help.”

“Speaking of people I would’ve gladly helped out with, April and her succubus will also be present. Well, April will, her succubus will presumably be front row like a good girlfriend. I can’t say I have anything morally against their little arrangement, I get to look at a ten years younger April Song, which works just fine for me, you know? Not that I have a problem with MILFs, I’m just saying, I’m not complaining.”

“And Alyssa Grace, who is so sure I’m going to crash and burn as if she’s not making snow angels on the kindling for her own bonfire. As if she’s not debuting her brand new strategy of be an asshole all the time and see if that helps. She’s just another woman to add to the pile labelled “Can’t take one loss and move on”. Was she kind of an asshole before? Sure. But at least she was an asshole with a friend. All Liz wanted to do was earn back a belt they lost, and Alyssa put her in the hospital. What does that say, really? When we break it down? That Alyssa doesn’t want to actually fight. Violet and I won those belts clean. We earned them. The idea of putting the belts on The Power of Incredible Violence without a match was always a bullshit freebie. If Alyssa had any faith in herself, she’d want to earn them back, but she doesn’t. She can pretend Liz was dead weight, but Liz was a shield. She was something Alyssa could blame so she didn’t have to live with a loss. And when that shield got too heavy, too rusty, when she was just done with it, Liz became a sacrifice. A scapegoat, an animal on the altar to replace Alyssa’s self worth, the thing really about to be slaughtered.”

“Devi…” Marie hesitates. “I like Devi. But my heart isn’t going to break if I take this from her. Why would it? She has persevered here, yes, but she… I don’t think this is Devi’s year. The card is stacked. I won’t write her off, but…”

“There it is.” The figure practically purrs, and Marie clenches her free hand.

“You think I’m weak. You think because I’m not insulting Devi for your personal entertainment, I’m too scared to take the chance away from her. You think I’m too soft hearted.”

“I guess it also annoys you that I never cursed any of my opponents either, hm? That I don’t go around mixing hemlock and mole’s teeth into people’s protein powder, that I’ve not filled my attic with poppets so I can break arm after arm like Alyssa Grace on an Adderall bender. Did it ever occur to you that I don’t need to? I didn’t need a curse to pin Raivo, I didn’t need poison to take out The Power of Incredible Violence, and I sure as shit didn’t need a poppet of Hana Nakajima to become Goddesses Champion. Maybe, madame, I am both a witch, and a wrestler, and I don’t need to do that to win, because I am as good at each of those as I am at the other.”

“Maybe, every single time I get in the ring, I get stronger, and push myself harder, and I don’t need curses or poisons or any name other than Marie fucking Bouchard to come out of this on top.”

The spirit seems frustrated, and Marie smiles and takes another drag off of her cigarette.

“Something wrong, madame? You seem troubled? Is this not going how you wanted? Ah, or maybe you’re trying to change something. Is that it? Trying to thicken the fog, perhaps? Take away my cigarette? But it just isn’t working. You can’t bend it to your will like you could last August.”

“You haven’t talked about the others yet. You’re stubborn, but I can see your desperation, I can see your hesitation. You don’t believe you can do this, not with them in the fray, that’s why you can’t say their names. You can’t do this without me, and all I ask of you is that you tell them my name.”

“No, I haven’t talked about them. But you’re missing something, madame. Tell me when you figure it out.”

There’s a long period of stubborn silence, and Marie pouts.

“Oh, madame. So willful, and so… bitter. But you know it, don’t you. I didn’t ask you how you knew. About everyone in the Clash. You weren’t there, I didn’t carry you, so how did you know?”

Marie smiles.

“My cousin, she’s a fantastic house sitter. And she’s really a very talented athlete, you know, she took her rugby team to the national championships. But she’s not much of a witch, is she? So she didn’t have any shielding, she didn't know how to keep you out of her thoughts as she fussed over me, going through twitter and waiting for news from OWA. You heard all those thoughts, and you formed a plan. Pick out those doubts I had to be carrying. Push me. Talk about my soft heart, talk about how I failed Violet, talk about how I can’t do this without you. And then try to batter me into carrying your name.”

“What have you done?”

“I haven’t done anything, madame. This was all built on two false assumptions.”

Marie raises a finger.

“One, that I would ever talk about Thotline with you.”

She raises another.

“Two, that this was my dream. It’s not my dream, madame. It’s yours.”

The figure across from Marie lets out an unholy screech, lunging across the table in a flurry of deep blue cloth-

And Marie opens her eyes.

Slowly, she sits up on top of the trunk, laughing as the sound of frantic scratching emanates from underneath her.

“Oh, madame. Maël will be fine, by the way. I sent her off to my mother for a proper cleansing. I’ll be fine too. Not that you’ll know.“

Marie slides off of the trunk and stretches, barely hearing the banging from inside the trunk as she walks away and closes the door, turning a tiny brass key in the lock before heading down the stairs.

There’s power in names.

And she’s grown quite attached to hers.

Alyssa Grace, Rebecca Filth, 'Don' Hendrix, Remington Ivory Prescott, DT The Ruler, Krysis, Felix Hartley and have spoken. It’s such good shit!

CLASH PROMO 2 June 6th 2023, 2:27 pm by **Christopher Sabertooth**

Sunday, June 4th
Aberdeen, Washington

The feed begins panning out to the vast, ever-changing canvas of colors, that is the sky. There’s a sense of familiarity with the surroundings as Christopher Sabertooth made his way back to his origin. Chris dressed up in casual clothes with a pack of beers and flowers in his hand, is seen standing outside a cemetery. The very place where his friend O’Shea was laid to rest.

Chris navigates through the pathway before coming to a halt at his friend’s gravestone. He gently places the flowers over his tomb before sitting down cross-legged next to it. He grabs two cans of beer and cracks them open, taking one for himself and leaving the other for his friend.

“For old times’ sake. Cheers to you, bud!”

Chris takes a swig out of his beer can.

“Cheers!”

Startled by the sound, he turns around, only for his shock to turn into a look of horror. It’s almost as if he had seen a ghost. Standing in front of him was his best friend, O’Shea. Chris pinched himself and felt every bit of it. This wasn’t a dream.

“How?... How is this possible?!”

“What! You brought beer for me, didn’t ya? Just here to pay you a visit. Don’t ask me how I’ve been. Frankly, I’ve never been better!”

“Never been bett-- What are you talking about?! I am literally standing next to your gravestone!”

“Jeez! Way to be a Debbie-downer, Chris. Yes, we’re at my gravestone. Yes, I am very much still dead. But that doesn’t mean I can’t have a chat with my friend! How are you even surprised after having to deal with vampires, witches, demons, and Gods alike!”

“... You know what, it’s not the weirdest thing that has happened.”

“Exactly! In fact, you’ve been dead before yourself. Though, it’s pretty selfish of you to not take me back to the living world.”

“I was in the depths of hell! And besides, my death or my return wasn’t really in my hands. Either way, how and why are you here?!”

“As I said, it’s been a while since we sat down together and shared a beer. I see you’ve replaced me with a new best friend. I am not jealous…”

“You shouldn’t be. I nearly lost him too when he sacrificed himself to help me and my wife.”

“Wow. Another one? At this point, people should avoid being your best friend like the plague…”

“Glad to see your sense of humor isn’t gone.”

“Nah, just the body. Oh, right. Wife! Congratulations! Never got to be your best man but I have been watching your life and living through you, vicariously! Don’t worry… I don’t follow you around everywhere. That would be a little weird. But I try to keep up with some important moments in your life.”

“I still can’t believe this is real...”

“It’s not! Have you been sleeping well lately?”

“Not really.”

“That explains it. You’re just hallucinating right now… But enough about this situation. Don’t you have anything else to talk about? Like your big upcoming match in a week!”

“Well… I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this. I love wrestling… I have dedicated my entire life to this business. This match might decide where my future stands. I have done everything in my power to keep up with my opponents. But if I fail here, I just have to accept the fact that Christopher Sabertooth will never be OWA World Champion.”

“Wow, you really became a depressing cunt after I died. That was awful! Why in the world would you ever quit something that you love so much!? Wrestling is all that your dumbass knows how to do. Let’s say for a second that you don’t win this match. There’s always a next chapter. It’s not the end of the journey, Chris!”

“How can you say that when you… you didn’t get your next chapter.”

“Did I not? I am here with you, aren’t I? I sure as hell hope my family and my friends still talk about me even when I am gone. When you win a match and say you did it for me, I am there with ya! It feels like a victory to me as well! Don’t forget, even if I was there next to you in the flesh, I never got to be a wrestler! But you? You did that. You did everything we ever imagined as a child. I live through you, Chris. Your dreams were mine too. So, don’t talk about your dreams dying-- Don’t talk about this being the end for you. If you do, the part of me that lives inside of you dies along with it.”

“Don’t say that! That’s not true, Shea…”

“Is it not? Do you really want to quit if it doesn’t work out? Or is this how you cope with losing the biggest match of your career? The Clash is everything that you wanted, Chris. You don’t just get to prove yourself, you win the championship along with it! Don’t prepare yourself to lose. Don’t think about what happens next! You’ll deal with it if it comes to that. Right now, think about what you will do after WINNING the OWA World Championship.”

“I do want to win.”

“Then fucking show it! Act like it! I don’t want to hear your sad story about how I died for the fifth time! You got this, man! And even if you don’t, you’re still Christopher motherfuckin’ Sabertooth! You’re the best wrestler I’ve ever seen. That means something. Don’t lose it, Chris. Don’t lose who you are. You’re fuckin’ great! Never forget that! NEVER!”

O’Shea showers his old friend with words of encouragement. Right as he finished, O’Shea’s body started to disappear. It seems that Chris’ mind was returning to normality. His best friend’s words had a lasting effect as Chris’ nods at him in acknowledgment and whispered a thank you. The last thing he sees is his friend smiling at him with his thumbs up before he vanishes in front of his very eyes. It didn’t matter if Chris had imagined this whole situation, just seeing O’Shea had given Chris the strength he needed heading into Clash. He stood back up and downed the rest of his beer.

A lady, who had witnessed Chris seemingly talking to himself, watched in confusion while maintaining a safe distance.

“A-Are you okay?” She inquired.

“Me? Oh… I have never been better.”

He smiled before walking away leaving his best friend his share of beer.

-x-

Never been better

That’s what they all say, don’t they?

A crushing defeat is usually followed by a week or two of silence and then the good ol’ phrase that comes after. People love to talk about how they won’t repeat their mistakes because they’ve never been better. They would NEVER lose again because they’ve never been better.

How often has that ever stood the test of time? If not now, there’s always a time when a person has to deal with failure. It is okay to admit your weakness. It’s okay to acknowledge that you’re not the same person any longer. A part of me died when Havoc took over my body. The years of torture won’t just go away in a snap of a finger. I will never be the Christopher Sabertooth of old. My body has been put through hell, figuratively and literally, in my battles against Demons and Gods.

I am older. I am always fucking hurting. My mind is regularly a mess and I can barely sleep. But that’s not what the world wants you to say. They want you to be the strongest version of yourself in every instant. If you don’t improve in life, what’s the point of living? Right? Sometimes, a bit of normalcy is all that you need. I wanted to be a wrestling icon. A hero to the younger generation to come and learn from. But all my life, I have made countless mistakes along the way. While there are some important lessons hidden in my mistakes, I never could become the ideal version of myself that I wanted to be.

No. I am not an icon. I am not a hero. I am not a role model that people should follow. I am a cautionary tale of what not to be. When I tell the world that I am a better man today-- There was only one way for me to go after hitting rock bottom! I got lost somewhere in the middle, trying to be a version of myself I was never going to be. Trying to look for a clean slate. Getting a reset button, as I would say. But most, if not all, people in life don’t get that chance. They have to embrace their past mistakes and move forward despite them. I struggle to this day on moving on. Especially since my wounds still haven’t had the time to heal. I was envious of Arata Asakura for getting a restart in life. I wanted what he had. He has the power to heal the needy. He has the power to stand up to Gods and Demons alike while I felt helpless. I wanted to help in every possible way but at times, I was more of a liability. I got my wife in danger. I got my friends on the brink of death. I am a failure…

I can’t just move on from that and pretend it never happened. I can’t pretend to have a perfect life now even when things are looking out for the better. I can’t erase the past because my story would be incomplete without it.

Incomplete.

That’s how I feel right now. Even after realizing what I was chasing wasn’t right-- I still feel like there’s something I desire. Something I have left to offer. A chance. Not an opportunity to rewrite history. Havoc’s name cannot be wiped away from the history books. It wouldn’t be fair to the story of Kenny Drake, Moongoose McQueen, or even Jeff X. Havoc played an important role in their lives and changed the course of their history. I can’t change their story just because it doesn’t look good on mine!

Havoc will never be forgotten, for good or bad reasons. People will always associate my name with that demon even beyond the day I die. I don’t need a reboot for my story. I don’t need to change any narratives.

My story is that of redemption. I went from an irredeemable demon to someone who values everybody’s life more than his own. At Clash of the Titans, I want to tell THAT story. That people who show repentance for their mistakes deserve second chances. That hitting rock bottom isn’t the end of the story. If I can go down to the depths of hell and return to become the OWA World Champion, then there’s nothing out of the realms of possibility. It is us humans who put the limitations on what we can and cannot achieve. Don’t let your past decide who you become in the future. That’s the Christopher Sabertooth story.

An old friend of mine told me that I was the best wrestler he ever knew. He told me that I should not feel defeated before I even tried my best. That I should not prepare for failure.

I agree. All this time, I have been preparing myself to deal with the worst possible outcome. Let’s say, I get thrown out of the ring. I lie on the concrete floor as someone else claims a page in history for themself. Should I give up on the story I have to tell? Should I think about quitting because I couldn't do what I said I would? That would be very foolish of me to do. I DECIDE when my story comes to an end. I DECIDE when I put an end to my career. I will walk away on my terms when I feel that I have done justice to the story of my life. I need to find the missing chapters. I need to come up with a good ending. A way that I can wrap this up with no regrets.

I won’t lose at Clash. But even if I do, I will continue to fight and get where I need to be. I will become OWA World Champion. It’s a missing chapter in the book of my life. But I won’t stop till I put it down on paper. So, to all the people in the locker room hoping to boost their careers at the expense of my own, I have some bad news. You’re not going to get the satisfaction of ending Christopher Sabertooth.

Not even you, Jason Long. Someone that Havoc had envisioned as his successor. Someone who was designed to be the one that puts an end to Christopher Sabertooth’s story. Jason, I am sure you will love to tell us that you’ve never been better. That losing to Stark was a fluke. A mistake that you intend on rectifying.

I had hoped you would have learned from your mistakes but seeing you return and attack Michael Bishop once again proved me otherwise. You never learn, Jason. I wish that Cyka had put you out of your misery. It hurts to see you spiral down into the darkness again and again. There’s no end to your greed. Mike had always treated you like a little brother and yet you continued to target him even when the reason you lost had nothing to do with him. You lost because of your complacency. You lost because of who you chose to be. Perhaps, you lost because you never deserved to be there in the first place. Jason, you can’t be better. You don’t try to be. So this new version of yourself that you claim to be, doing the exact same things, will suffer the exact same fate. You will come close to reaching your peak, but when it matters, you will fail. Clash of the Titans isn’t where you win back your title. Clash of the Titans is where the world realizes that OWA is better off without Jason Long in it. Everybody that wants to change, deserves a second chance. Jason never wanted to be anything else but the King, while wearing a suit that’s fit for a pauper. He needs to either step away and rediscover himself or stay locked in and accept whatever fate that awaits him. He tries to run away momentarily but Jason loves the spotlight so he always makes his way back. Jason, you may have gotten better but there’s one thing I know. I have ALWAYS been better than you. You won’t beat me. Not now. Not until you change. Not until you can look past your hatred for the world.

As for Jeff, I wish he had won the OWA World Title at OWA5. Though, I don’t know if this opportunity would have presented itself if Jeff was the champion right now. Stark’s madness was bound to be his downfall. But Jeff is smarter than that. He wouldn’t have put himself in an unwinnable situation.

Jeff, I am happy for you. I know you’ve got a thing going on with Felix. I know that you’ve managed to make it out of Havoc’s deal alive and well. And after all that, you’re still regarded as the hero of OWA. The man that led the Frontline to victory. I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me. I wouldn’t have been able to forgive myself if I lost another best friend to my own fault. You lifted that burden from me when you came back.

That being said, there’s only one chapter left in your story. You’ve done it all. When you first lost the OWA World Championship to Havoc, that’s probably how I feel right now. Feeling robbed of your moment. But you got to redeem yourself at Final Destination. You have won the Clash of the Titans. You have proven yourself at every step of the way. Though, your story can’t end here. We need to have our one on one battle. For the first and the last time. Whoever wins gets to hold it over the other forever. I want it to happen. Shit, if I win the Clash of the Titans, I want you to be the one to face me at Final Destination. It won’t hurt to finally end the debate on who’s better. Of course, it wouldn’t be fair to others but I am sure you’d find your way to the top as you always do.

As for the Clash, you have nothing to gain. Winning this would simply be an addition to your list of accolades. But for me? This Clash is everything I ever wanted. Sorry buddy. I REALLY fucking need to win. You’ll have to wait for your turn. And if fate would have it, we can end our chapters together at Final Destination. If not-- Not my fault your ass is washed. I am going into Final Destination as the OWA World Champion, no matter what. You’ll have to figure out some other way to get there. Don’t make me wait too long.

Speaking of waiting too long, I know Stark had been planning for this moment for years. It almost feels like a tradition that Stark is heading into Clash with a world-title opportunity in the play. That’s what he does! But, the circumstances surrounding this match are a lot different. Stark is a champion. Heading into this year, that’s not something I expected to see. While I do respect the hustle of Stark, it still bothers me how he slimes his way into title opportunities every time. Fair play to him for finally converting the opportunity for once.

But then he goes on to disrespect the OWA World Championship. Something I am willing to put my career on the line for-- Something I have been craving ever since the day I stepped foot in this company… has been reduced to a punch line. Stark might have escaped with the title at OWA5 but he continues to make a mockery of everything OWA stands for. Stark could do whatever he wanted in SSW when he served as the Chairman. He could have people compete for Cracker Championships. He could poke fun whenever he wanted to… But this is not SSW. This is not Friday Night Olympus. Stark shouldn’t be allowed to destroy the legacy of that title. Oasis barely does anything right but he made sure that this does not continue for much longer. Getting away with the win at OWA5 was impressive. But this challenge ahead of him is impossible. If Stark somehow manages to defeat all the odds, I will acknowledge him as the greatest OWA World Champion in the history of this company. I will admit that I was wrong. Fuck the odds-- This is a suicide mission. Stark isn’t making it out of this show with his reign intact. He’s not making it to Final Destination as the OWA World Champion.

There are officially 18 other people that want a piece of that gold and possibly countless more that will show up for a paycheck on that day. One misstep. One wrong movement and Stark goes flying out of the ring. This OWA takeover that he wanted will crumble in an instant.

And if we’re being honest here, this situation would have never happened if Jason Long wasn’t a fucking loser. The man who put an end to Mike Bishop’s legendary run as the champion stumbled at the first hurdle. Jason can pass the blame to us but Stark’s career resurgence is all thanks to his incapability. Seeing how easy it is to sway Jason, I won’t be surprised if this is all revealed as some ploy by Stark to get his share of the pie. Jason would switch sides for a pack of gum. That man has no spine. Who knows, Jason’s convenient return heading into the Clash is Stark’s way of getting himself any help he can get.

All I know is that the OWA World Championship does not deserve to be treated this way. It played an important part in the history of this company. Plenty of stories were masterfully told with that piece of gold being the centerpiece. It wasn’t simply a prop for some unfunny bastard who thinks he’s back in SSW again. Let’s not forget that Stark had an alliance with Havoc at one point too. He let power get to his head. He wanted to rule over SSW with an iron fist. Stark is no stranger to corruption. Letting his reign continue would only risk a future catastrophic situation and I am real fucking tired of having to go through that again. The same reason goes for not letting Jason get back to the title because he’d be first in line to spread his cheeks to the demons as he did before. Who knew that Savannah was the sane one in their prior relationship? She’s got twins now while the only thing doubled up for Jason are his losses.

I know that there are a lot of people that can’t wait for this coming week. The stakes don’t get bigger than this. The most important Clash in the history of the company. Not just a chance at immortality-- A guaranteed entry into the fucking annals of history. You get to be who you want to be. You get to tell the story you want to tell.

That’s what I want. So, no offense to the Kreigers. The Myojins. The Jacob Strikers of the group. I am aware that you’re all hungry for success. Unlike the names I mentioned, I don’t have the benefit of time behind me, and neither do I want a title shot handed to me. If my body isn’t ready for this test-- If I am not able to overcome this challenge, then I will have to come to terms with that…

Which only adds further importance to this match for me. For more than two years, I have patiently watched my contemporaries rise up to the occasion and lead the charge when it comes to the top championship in the company. I respect every single one of them-- Except Jason. Fuck him.

I was too busy trying to be a good friend and a good husband to even think about wrestling accolades. I put my career on hold just so I could get rid of the demon holding me back. And after years of hardship, with the help of my friends, I can finally be rid of Havoc. I can be Christopher Sabertooth without having to worry about my past returning to haunt me. I won’t squander this opportunity for anything. Jeff and Mike got a chance to overcome the demons in their life. My Frontline brothers are different-- But it’s my turn now. I want to make them proud of me.

By no means do people consider me the favorite heading into this match. And they shouldn’t. I am not the most physically domineering. I am not the most technically gifted, though it's close. I am not the most charismatic person you’ve met. Above all, I am not Havoc. And I am fucking glad about it.

I am standing at the crossroads facing a path I have never taken. Havoc dragged me to the top when I wasn’t ready. And after years of self-reflection, there won’t be a better moment than this. It’s my time to be the Flag Bearer for Frontline. It’s my time to be the face of this company. It’s my time to achieve the greatness I have always strived for. This won’t be like Jacob Senn or Aria Jaxon. I have been down to the fucking trenches and I climbed back up to reach the top. I am not trying to come close. I am not trying to finish second. At Clash, I will be at the peak of my ability. At Clash, I will give every fucking ounce of my energy to be the last man standing.

At Clash of the Titans, I will write my story the way it should have always been.

Why?... Cause Christopher Sabertooth has never been better.

Arata Asakura, Alyssa Grace, Elijah Hampton, 'Don' Hendrix, Remington Ivory Prescott, DT The Ruler and Felix Hartley have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos June 6th 2023, 12:55 pm by **Mami's Favorite Chew Toy**

Location[size=52]: Devione Productions, Atlanta Sound Stage, Set of Dreamlander[/size]
Time[size=52]: 9:00 A.M.[/size]
Date[size=52]: 6/5/2023[/size]

A Queen’s Gambit…

[size=52](The camera begins to roll as we see Allesandro Devastation walking away from a set of Dreamlander in his red, white, and blue costume with his dragon winged cape, being handed a bottle of water and having a makeup person touch up his hair and wipe the sweat from his brow. His assistant walks up to him with Marcus the director as he waves to them that it is ok to approach.)[/size]

“I honestly think the camera caught my good side there. But then again, I don’t think it could catch a bad side if it tried. What do you need? I have been here since 6am getting my masterpiece done. Any news from that mongrel? Ive been waiting to see what else that false idol would say against me, unless she finally committed herself for those delusions. Which if she doesn't show, have my lawyers contact OWA Offices. I want that match won by way of forfeit instead of being postponed. I am tired of dealing with this, this mongrel and her “Worlds Finest” are nothing but a collection of misfit toys from different walks of life all with ties to this fool dressed like a gang banger. I swear, it’s like I deal with riff raff on a daily basis just because I am rich, Amanda please go and fetch me a drink .”

[size=52](Allesandros assistant begins to walk away leaving Marcus with Allesandro, as he raises his brow at Marcus still being in his space. Before he can speak to say why he is there, Allesandro stands from his chair and brushes past him with open arms and a smile on his face walking towards the person who just walked onto set, Emmanuelle. She takes her sunglasses off and looks towards Allesandro and rolls her eyes.)[/size]
“Ah Emmanuelle, glad I got to see you before you went on. We at Devione Productions hope you really have fun with this one, I know I am. Everything is state of the art here, paid for by yours truly. How have you been? I have not seen you since our time on the isle together when I ruled Wrestleworld.”

“Alle, shut up…That act may work on them, the masses. But let's be real. I know who you are, I know what you are about. This is about one thing and one thing only, Money. I don’t care to talk wrestling, your infatuation with any “Dream”, or anything to do with Stephanie Matsuda. Now that that's out of the way, I am great, nice cape Alle…I’m not wearing one.”

[size=52](Allesandro’s smile turns to that smirk he is more known for having. He chuckles a bit as his assistant returns with a drink for him, and she was smart enough to bring a water for Emmanuelle as well. Allesandro holds up his glass.)[/size]

“Since we are past the pleasantries then, I guess I will at least toast another megastar besides yourself here. ME. Welcome to Dreamlander Emmanuelle, Make yourself comfortable, and don’t choose now to be insufferable. I’ll be watching this performance, break a leg..”

[size=52](Allesandro scoffs and walks away sipping his whiskey as Emmanuelle rolls her eyes at the man who would think himself a tyrant in her eyes. She is greeted by Marcus who is all smiles now that Mr Devione has left, and welcomes her to the set where they will be filming her scenes. The camera fades to black.)[/size]

Location[size=52]: Interior of Allesandro’s Private Trailer, Devione Productions, Atlanta Sound Stage, Set of Dreamlander[/size]

[size=52]Time: 3:30 P.M.[/size]

[size=52]Date: 6/5/2023[/size]

[size=52]

OWA Promos - Page 4 3bd089ac9437931ce0e254293d0bf9ec

[/size]

…Only Leads To Destruction By A Dragon.

[size=52](We open at Allesandro Devastation standing on the second floor of his personal production trailer. The shutters begin to dim the outside light as Allesandro stands in the center of the living room area of the trailer, as the couch and tables begin to move and hide themselves away. As the room begins to almost go completely dark, we see the hologram projectors begin to light up around him. Allesandro Devastation snaps his fingers, as the room around him begins to display a old english village and castle along the floor, showing the whole countryside. Allesandro watches, his eyes filled with fire and rage, as a white dragon comes along and begins to wreck the village and cause havoc and despair along the countryside as knights and guards try to attack it. He looks at a single drone camera filming this.)[/size]

“A mighty being, a Dragon. Do you know why I have in the past compared myself to such a beast Stephanie? And why do I compare you to a mongrel? No matter the culture, no matter the region of the world, and no matter who tells the story. A dragon is to be looked at as a massive being, whose reach can be as far as the wind blows in any direction around it. It is revered in some cultures, but feared in most. These creatures, mongrel, no matter if they are loved or feared, will always have the respect of anything in its path for what it is capable of. Which is how a man like me lives his life, the status I have afforded myself in this world, the business world, or anything else I demand my respect in. I am like that mighty engine of destruction in ways that no man is like them. YOU WOULD DARE STAND IN MY WAY AND NOT SHOW ME THE RESPECT I DESERVE!!! And I fully plan on wiping you off the face of the map when I get the chance, Matsuda. I am going to take the collar around your neck at the Clash of the Titans, and I am going to enjoy wrapping that chain attached around your neck and watching your face go from red, to purple, to a pale color. Your fans will watch this and pray you are ok, as the love they have will not be enough, the cheers will not be enough, and the hope they have will wither, as the dreams for you to become victorious once more not against the mad tyrant before you, but against the Dragon before you as their valiant war queen. I will take what you are, and I will take what you love, and I will be that mighty engine of destruction mongrel, and I will end everything in one swoop...”

[size=52](As Allesandro speaks those words the dragon in the scene around him lets loose a fire blast in the town, as the villagers and their buildings begin to burn, and as Allesandro Devastation sees this his grin becomes feral, watching the mighty dragon swoop in for another blast, taking out the villagers.)[/size]

“And not even your World’s Finest can stand against me, not on their own, nor as a unit in this match. I am Allesandro Devastation you mangy cur, and I will end this queens guard if I have to to get to you and what I want. And what I want more than your head on a pike is for you and them to know that I have the American Dream Championship firmly in my grasp once more. Nobody can hold onto that Dream, not a single soul can do that other than me the way it needs to be done. You look at it as a belt, as a part of a collection, as a way to keep being relevant. I see it is what it really is, it is a symbol of everything you are not Stephanie. It is a symbol of an era of the world when a war is fought, not just a single battle. You were there, against the blood queen herself, Claudia Michaels for all that time fighting for this. Many battles ensued over this symbol, and you eventually managed to get what you longed for against her. But even then mongrel, you never saw it as what it was. It was a simple belt to add to a collection for you, as most addicts do. Addicted to having something gold and shiny, addicted to having the adoration, addicted to being some hero. A symbol of power, a symbol of the dreams of millions of lives became nothing but a “hero's cape” to you. And those around you, not the fans, but the ones who stand by your side. They feed your addiction, like a lighter to a crack pipe. They let you burn bright, and hold you high. But what happens Stephanie, what happens when the flames no longer come from them, but burn around them. What happens when they anger the Dragon, and they stand to protect the queen, only tu be turned to ash…”

[size=52](A roar is heard from the scene at Allesandro;s feet, as the queens guard at the castle begin to shoot arrows at the dragon, piercing his scales barely, and it does nothing to stop this beast. It only angers it, and with a passionate fury, the dragon charges again and shoots another blast of flame at the knights and the guards. They begin to feel the flames, as it burns their skin and begins to melt the armor they have on, and as the hot liquifying metal begins to fall, it takes skin from muscle, muscle from tendon, and tendon from bone with it. The queen's guard is falling, burning away. As that happens, the scene below Allesandro is nothing but burning buildings, villagers are nothing but ash, and the guard has also now fallen. The beast of destruction has done what it set out to do, and it looks to the castle, where the Queen is alone, holding up a sword in defiance. .)[/size]

“And at the end of the war Matsuda, we have exhausted your forces, and your fans will have all run out of breath to support you. Everything that kept you going, that fed your addiction, will have been burned away in a sense. And all that stands before me then is exactly what I have always said was before me. A Dog… And I refer to you as this because of the fact Matsuda, you jump at any reaction to me. Like a mongrel when they see the mailman, I come bearing great news and all you want is to bark and attack me for simply existing. You paint me as the villain here, but I walk into a room and take a breath and you want me gone from the world like a dog. And yes, you give the “puppy dog” eyes to the audience, and they coo and they say aww, and they rally behind you to keep going when you and I both know you are in the wrong. And simply Stephanie, you are the biggest little yapping bitch I have ever met. So why are you a Mongrel? A Cur? A MUTT…because you are one at heart, in action and presentation. And when a dog meets a Dragon, the inevitable happens..”

[size=52](The scene changes just a little bit below, as the queen in front of the castle begins to shrink and change, and turns into an actual dog with a small crown on its head. The small dog before the mighty dragon begins to bark and bare its teeth. The dragon narrows its blue eyes, and then charges up one last time. And as the fire leaves its mouth, we cut to Allesandro watching, with a sick look in his eyes of satisfaction, as you can see the fiery reflection in his eyes, as the hologram projectors begin to cut off around him, leaving the scene of devastation before him to fade to nothingness. The shutters on the trailer begin to open letting in natural light, as the furniture reappears as well. Allesandro Devastation sits in one of the solo chairs, and looks to the table next to him. He opens the box and pulls out a cigar and cutter and lighter. He cuts the end of his cigar and lights it. He takes a few puffs and looks on to the countryside outside of his trailer, and then begins to speak again as he looks outward.)[/size]

“So before I finish here, I would like to speak directly to Monica. Your wife is attempting something that you know you don’t want, that you know you don’t want for her. I can not tell you how to run your household, but I can tell you what is going to happen if she continues on this path. She has about four days left until Clash of the Titans. Four days to get her house in order before she steps to me again, and I make that demonstration I just had augmented into a reality. You do not have much time, so now I tell you, as somebody who has never wronged me personally, never stepped into my way of what is mine, and somebody who cares about the wretched little mutt I must put down in a few days. I would ask you to plead with her to reconsider, to hand me my prize, to acknowledge me as she once had to as the Owner of the American Dream. But I think we both know that is futile. So instead I just wanted to let you know up front, that while most of the things in this world are just business as usual, what I am going to do at the Clash is nothing but personal. So please, hug and kiss your wife goodbye as she makes her way to Baltimore for a final time. Gone will be the days of having that family you want. Gone will be the days of seeing her as you wake up in the morning. Because Monica, at Clash of the Titans, I am going to do everything in my power to not only beat and bludgeon your wife. But I am going to end Stephanie Matsuda as you know her once and for all. Pick out an urn, all that will be left is ash. I wish I could say I am sorry, but in all honesty…the mongrel you bed with should be the one apologizing to you for what she's done to you both. ”

[size=52](Alessandro sighs, and takes another puff of his cigar. He stands and walks over to the window and looks out again at the sun in the sky, and looks back towards the camera. As he does a smirk comes to his face, as a drone activates showcasing the window as it is, but a Dragon flying overhead. The dragon lets out a roar through the augmented window frame as it begins to rain fire along the countryside. Allesandro looks into the camera.)[/size]

“...As I said, welcome to the reality of Allesandro Devastation…”

[size=52](Allesandro puts his cigar out in the ashtray next to him and he stands. He looks back at the camera a final time and smirks and walks away. The scene just shows the countryside outside of the window in flames as the camera fades to black.)[/size]

Alyssa Grace, Elijah Hampton, Remington Ivory Prescott, DT The Ruler and Brody have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos June 6th 2023, 8:01 am by **Arata Asakura**

Clash of the Titans #3: No More Delusions.

04.06.2023 Unknown Area

‘It hurts…My skin feels like it is on fire..Burning me alive…Turning me to ash.’

*What's going on in our heads has always been an interesting puzzle. Some things were so interesting that they even seemed unbelievable. Others could give you goosebumps. They weren't scary to see, because they were scenes like out of a horror movie. They were terrifying, because there weren't even words that would adequately describe the struggle we have to deal with inside. Something that no one would understand, but those you had similar issues. Something that seems incomprehensible to those who have never even had to imagine being in such a position. After all, limitations are not the same for everyone in the world. For some, something may seem like a completely innocent problem, and for others it will be a big challenge. Sometimes impossible to overcome. We are all different, but it always felt like some parts of the society didn't want to accept that. Not only because of our appearance, but there is also hate that always comes along with inner struggles. Something that was often hidden from the world for fear of negative reaction, or being stigmatized. After all, no one wants to be rejected and put on the side. Nobody in this world wants to feel lonely.*

*Though he tried to hide his issues from everybody else, Arata wasn't feeling too well lately. He felt like no matter what he did, he couldn't get even a moment of comfort. Everything bothered him. There was nothing, that didn't annoy him. He was almost like a bundle of nerves. The man felt that his muscles were tensed so much, that his whole body ached. He knew he was hurting himself this way, which happened to be in the worst possible moment. But he couldn't handle the tension and pressure that was pushing him to the ground. Although it wasn't the worst thing, what was going on in his head was like an absolute disaster for him. At times like this, he was completely lost, like nothing made sense for him.*

*What image was formed in his mind? Black space that wasn't having any specific shape. It felt like an abyss surrounded Arata from every single side. The man was sitting on the ground with his legs pulled up to his chest and his face hidden in his forearms. His back and arms were covered with minor scrapes and traces of blood. Arata was breathing heavily, as if he was terrified of running out of air. He was mumbling something under his breath all the time. But the space wasn't completely empty. Around him there was something that could be called a ring of fire, but it wasn't completely closed. The man didn't seem to pay attention to flames, even though they were leaving burns on his skin. The struggle he had inside of him was the only thing he could think about at the moment. It was weird, but it seemed to him like he felt nothing, and everything at the same time. He was disoriented and plunged into inner anguish.*

"How can you be like this?!"

*Child's emotional voice made Arata raise his head. Both his eyes and the boy's were full of tears. Before he even realized it, he was regretfully staring at the child version of himself, who had nothing but bitterness in his eyes.*

"How can you break the promise you made to me?! You were supposed to get stronger! You promised, I would never have to see you like this again... And look at you! What a pitiful sight! Are you really going to be like this all your life?!"

*The older Arata hid his face behind his forearms again, as the boy began to approach him. Seeing his reaction, the child felt completely helpless and fell to his knees. Sitting across from him, he wiped his face with his hands, and continued in a sad tone of voice.*

"If you keep doing this, this fire will not only surround you and burn your skin. It will eventually consume you, turning everything you've worked into ashes. And it hurts me...watching this is a punishment that I didn't deserve to get. I always believed that something like that won't break you. But looking how devastated you are...I wish I had died in that fire a long time ago. Or maybe that I was never born at all."

*Hearing this, the blonde man clenched his hands tighter on his arms, digging his nails into his skin. He was trying not to get into hysteria till something forcefully hit him in the back of the neck. When he looked up again, the child version of him, completely flooded with tears, pushed him onto his back. The child screamed in despair and hit him with his fists.*

"Please! You can't let this shit take everything from you! It's too early for you to give up! Just don't leave me like this!"

*Arata opened his eyes, realizing his heart started beating faster. He was lying in his bed at home, once again overthinking all the odds that were waiting for him.*

05.06.2023 Osaka, Japan

'I'll leave that kind of thing to fate. Obsessing over something that's destined to be ever out of one's reach is just a waste of time. I have more important things to attend to at the moment.'

*Since Hana witnessed some discussion a few days ago, Arata wondered if it was time to tell the truth. The fact was that Hana was not in a good position to understand that there was really no one there. He didn't argue with anyone, but he was in the midst of his mental breakdown. However, sometimes Arata just couldn't admit his weakness, especially when it came to very personal matters. Therefore, for the next few days, a question tormented him. To tell the world, or not? He wasn't sure what the reaction of the people around him would be. He wasn't convinced that even if he did, the weight would drop off his shoulders. There were so many scenarios that could have happened, that made him nervous. He knew what bothered him the most, and that somehow kept him from confessing it a few years ago. Still, another thought came to mind. Does it make sense to hide it all your life? Maybe it's better to use it to do something good. Perhaps such a statement will help not only himself, but also others. He was to find out soon about the consequences of his decision.*

*The recording begins in Arata's office, in one of the Dojos on the outskirts of Osaka. A man wearing a dark blue hoodie, black jeans and black sports shoes is sitting on a desk. The fingers of one of his hands tap against his thigh, while the other one runs over his face. At first glance, you can see that the man is slightly nervous. As if he didn't know, if what he was doing wouldn't break him into a thousand pieces. On the one hand, it wasn't a good time. After all, Clash of The Titans was so close. Even though he had a feeling there couldn't be a better opportunity. He was afraid that if he didn't say it now, he probably never would. The blond man took a deep breath, trying to control his emotions. Although he did everything to make his voice sound stable, at times it just kept breaking.*

We live in a world full of differences, where everyone strives to be unique. We are in a society where it is so important to stand out. After all, almost everyone has this inner need to be the one and only version of themselves. However, while many strive to make a difference, everything has two sides of the coin. Not to mention that some of the traits we have are not always our choice. We also live in a society filled with rudeness and hatred for everything that is even slightly unfamiliar to them. Perhaps, because there are some things, these people just don't understand. But that was never an excuse. This approach to any kind of difference makes a lot of people suffer. They hide who they are for fear of losing their loved ones. They don't want to be alienated. Or in my case, it's rather embarrassing. I have that shame and fear that someone will pity me. And I just don't want this to happen. You see, there are things that neither I, nor your former Arata, told you. The little condition that we both had, which had a significant impact on our well-being and behavior. Therefore, listen to me carefully. When you hear the name Arata Asakura, what comes to your mind? Aside from that monster's terrorist inclinations, the first thing you think is that he's a successful man. Someone who turned the whole world upside down to get to where he is now. And you don't realize how hard it was. But there are other things besides that, right? I know, I'm considered an asshole, because I'm way too honest. I realize you think I'm tactless and offensive at times. The thing is, I never did it on purpose. Sometimes I just didn't understand that such directness could hurt someone so much. Not to mention, those cold shoulders I gave even to those closest to me, could make you feel like I don't really like anyone. The truth is, I've never been good at social interaction. Even after years of working on myself, there are still some things I can't control. However, that doesn't mean I don't need others. I love my family and friends and as you have seen, I would do anything for them. Even if at times you may have thought that I was putting work ahead of everything else. I know I have an unhealthy obsession with winning. I know I have self esteem issues. I have that constant need to prove myself. And those who are close to me know that I have many more obsessions and compulsions, even if they never told me directly. Where did it all come from? Everyone has always known that my greatest weapon has been my mind, and great intelligence sometimes requires a high price to pay. So today, you're hearing this for the first time and I'm partly hoping that my person will inspire someone not to give up, or some other bullshit. However, the guy you see here...ten times world champion...one of the biggest stars in wrestling business today...have been a 'victim' of Asperger's Syndrome and other conditions that go along with it over the years.

OCD. Poor sensory integration in the touch sphere. When you look at it from my perspective, wrestling is the worst industry I could be in. I hate dirt, sweat and blood. The very thought of them covering my body drives me crazy. Not to mention what I feel, when it actually is on me. Perhaps, you won't be able to tell how much this bothers me, because after all, I am able to function highly in society, thanks to the fact that I have been receiving treatment for the last few years. I know that it will never go away and I just have to accept that I have these problems. Even if it sometimes makes me feel like I am hopeless. However, there are some things that I am able to improve to make my life easier. That's what I am working on. A dozen or so years ago, if I had to stand in the ring covered in sweat and someone else's blood, I would most likely have a panic attack, cry my eyes out or scratch myself so hard in the hope that I will rip off that whole mess. I know it's stupid, but at a time like this, you just don't think that you're hurting yourself more. It is like a never ending cycle. However, the question arises, why did I decide to become a wrestler in the first place? There are quite a lot of reasons, but one of them is that it is part of my exposure therapy. I try to focus on the stimuli that disturb me in order to suppress their impact, and I can see how much it has helped me so far. However, there is something else that comes into your mind, isn't it? How can I be such a walking disaster? There is something wrong about Arata from time to time. Therefore, I will say only one thing, who know then they fucking know. Even if it sounds unbelievable, you have to take into account where I come from. Forget for a moment that I'm a well-dressed guy with too much money, that I don't even need. Think about how a child, growing up in poverty, feels while having these problems that I just presented to you. No help or support. I didn't get anything, not even sympathy, so it just got worse over time. All my mother could do was make sure I didn't scratch my own skin all the time. She was trying to avoid me getting some infection. Therefore, before someone questions my rather difficult issues, try to look from the perspective of the person it concerns. Not your own comfy seat.

When I talk about all these differences and tolerance, I'm not saying that we have to love the whole world. Obviously, it's impossible for us to like everyone, and that's okay. Just being a bitch about some things is shameful. There are some topics that we shouldn't use as an argument to hate, or as an insult to a person we don't like. Someone like MYOJIN is well aware of how sad and uncomfortable it is when people are constantly misgendering them. Some were ignorant, others did it on purpose. It was fucking insane to me that you really can be such a subhuman to use shitty tactics like that. There are things that are not to be joked about and not abused. I've never seen a reason why you should hate MYO for something out of their control. If you want to shit on them, there are a thousand other reasons why you can. Maybe even the fact that they are a fake ass bitch that changes sides, depending, where they have the best benefits at the moment. You have all the reasons to hate on them for being part of a terrorist group for over a year, and not facing any consequences. It never mattered whether they directly did something or not. They were Golden Dawn members. It doesn't change shit if they did it to take advantage of the situation. It was still preying on the suffering of many people, and for what? To get the Outlaw Belt? Something that can fucking win any time you want. So there is no excuse for them here, and I don't understand how you can be so selfish as not to at least apologize.You ran off like a coward, pretending you have never had anything to do with it and that's pathetic. I wasn't even here, and I'm not afraid to take responsibility for what the Gaijin Killer did. You were his associate, and you still act like nothing happened. But one thing you can be sure of, you have blood on your hands, MYO. You sold yourself to him. i am aware you won't fucking admit it, but you didn't exist in OWA without evil Arata. What have you accomplished since he is gone? Well, besides being the sidekick of the Wakefield Family? Nothing. And in that Clash you won't make a bigger difference as well.

The same goes for your 'friend'...Arthur Wakefield, who I doubt is even interested in what's going on around him. Especially since he's too busy achieving his impossible goal, since he arrived in this time space. Although, can you even say that he constantly makes unsuccessful attempts, since he really does not try to do shit. To change something you have to think and try new solutions, not just sit on your ass and expect that everything will fix itself. Some people really think that they'll get everything on a silver tray, just because of their name, and that's mostly what happened to Nate Cage. When this guy first showed up in OWA, he had the potential to outshine a lot of new stars. Television and media saw him as a future legend of this company. Once upon a time, this name gave you shivers and your heart beat faster. And now? I can't help it...but I don't give a fuck. Nate Cage is the biggest downgrade I've seen in this industry. What happened to someone who had such a bright future? How can you ruin your chances of an amazing career so badly? Maybe it's because he kept retiring fifteen times per year and coming back with some silly ideas. How many faces of Cage we have seen already and why none of them was good? This guy found his finish line a few years ago and that's the fact. Darkane retired him that day on FD and whatever left of him is nothing, but a disgrace to wrestling. I don't know what he's still doing here. Perhaps he wants to prove that he still has that thing to be on top, but the matter of the fact is...the rest of Murder Inc left him so much behind, that they will never be within his reach.

Some people just don't know when is the best time to let go and Cage isn't the only person on the brand, who should have retired long ago. The same goes for JD Damon. I always knew the guy was greedy for money, but it's sad to see him embarrassing himself all the time. I don't know if any amount of cash is worth ruining years of a pretty good career. Isn't it better to be remembered for who you were at your peak? Because at the moment, everyone will only mention what a flop you become, and that's what happens with a lot of old dogs that decided to come back. You should have seen this. Aria Jaxon? She hasn't won a single match since coming back. Moongoose McQueen? Such a high expectation, but he turned out to be an even bigger joke than usual. Things fucking change, and it's about time, you noticed it. You should finally step down, because it's time to focus on the present and the future. It is insane how many well prospering talents we have right now in the company. Taniguchi Sena is someone we should definitely pay attention to, because within a few years he will be one of the biggest stars. Seems like Emmy has some common sense and chose well. But Sena still has a lot to work on, which we constantly see in his matches in OWA. He is good, but he is still lacking some skills...awareness and that killer instinct. And if you don't have it, then you can't even think of getting into Clash of the Titans. It is literally a death wish. So Sena can have a hope to win something like Clash, but he has to wait a couple of years. But even having a little hope is good because when it comes to Minj, Striker or those other new guys...I can already tell that their maximum is being mid.

That's not the kind of future that I can foresee, but mostly it's my ability to pay attention to details and experience. Something that seems to be questioned. But what the hell do you know, Kreiger? Am i naive? Delusional? Let me tell you one thing, boy. I am not living a dream like you are. I am firmly rooted in reality and if I say, that I can do something, they you can be sure i fucking will do it. I am not one of those people who blindly pursue a goal, not sure if it is achievable. Something like this is a waste of time and you should know for yourself. It took you months, or more, to even get your hands on some title, that even matters anything in this company. As I said before, no offense to Outlaw Belt. It had couple great champions, but it is not something everybody would kill for. Same for me, I don't care much about this belt, but about challenge it gives. Tho I am not going to die for this. As much as ideal it seems, I don't have to leave with two belts. OWA World Championship is everything I want. I will sacrifice what it takes to get it in my hands. Tho, it would be fun to end the night as the double champ, I don't see a reason why I should limit myself. But unlike you, Kreiger, I actually can do this and people with common sense know it. Every time Clash comes, there is always a question...what will Outlaw Champion do? Not many people ask that this time, because they know me. They realize, I will fucking set this belt on fire if this means, that I win Clash. So shut up. It is enough of your speech about being naive. If someone is being delusional here, then it is you, thinking you can talk like this to me. I don't need advice from a rookie, who doesn't even have a chance to win here.

Contrary to what you might think, Chris, it's not like I got a brand new start. Nobody forgot that Gaijin Killer existed, because I am here. That's all people see, when they look at my face. Many don't believe me...even more hate me for my mere existence. At least you and Havoc didn't fully share the same look. People were able to put a line between Sabertooth and the demon. Well, many will even say that you were a victim in all this, and I agree with that. While I just have to take on all that fucking shit, that they are throwing at me. And as you can see, even my closest friends don't quite trust me. I know it sounds convenient, that I came here alongside with all his championships and without his sins. However, this is the truth. I don't have to convince anyone of that. It's a matter of complete trust, and whether you believe me or not is your choice, Chris. You have to make up your mind. But when you do that, don't forget what my goal is...

I am starting this Clash from number one to redeem myself and rebuild my legacy. However, as I mentioned last time, there is another reason, and it is more selfish than you can imagine. As I said, wrestling is part of my therapy and I believe that such a challenge is another big step for me. So let me tell you one thing, in terms of my skills and experience, I have no doubt that I can do this. I can be the last man standing. But don't get me wrong. I don't underestimate my competition, I am not stupid like that, cause there is always some percentage of chance that something will go wrong. But I am not scared of anyone in this match. I know I can defeat everyone.

The only one who can beat me...is me. And this is what I will overcome to be one hundred percent sure, I will win Clash and become OWA World Champion.

Christopher Sabertooth, Alyssa Grace, 'Don' Hendrix, Remington Ivory Prescott, DT The Ruler and Felix Hartley have spoken. It’s such good shit!

[#001] FAINT. June 6th 2023, 7:01 am by **Mav.**

❝ FAINT. ❞
CLASH OF THE TITANS #001 \\ OWA WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH.

“I CAN'T FEEL THE WAY I DID BEFORE
DON'T TURN YOUR BACK ON ME
I WON'T BE IGNORED”

—

❝ I didn’t think that I’d jump right back into the saddle so soon.

After all, I was morally executed on the spot and left to rot away. I should’ve been left for dead and that’s a fact, but somehow I wasn’t, which concerns me even more considering that I don’t know how I’ve ended up alive and well. Actually, I say “well” loosely, I’m not well at all.

Surviving such an incident hasn’t made me stronger, no. Surviving hasn’t made me feel the same as how I went down, no. I feel as if I’m at my weakest point ever, I don’t feel the same as what others might’ve felt. I wondered what happened to me, I wondered why I came back to life a lot weaker than how Jeff came back, not a single scratch on him whatsoever and back in the saddle as if his untimely death just never happened. So many questions for my condition, so many unanswered questions, and I don’t think that I’ll ever find the answers needed anytime soon either. I had done everything in my power to find the cause, find the reason, find some kind of answer, but nothing came through. I scoured everywhere possible to find an answer and nothing came up once.

Maybe that’s what persuaded me to come back sooner than later.

I wanted to see myself get back on my feet, in a more balanced state, but something drove me to come back. It might’ve been the desperation of finding out what happened or maybe it’s an old instinct that remains dormant inside of me, calling me back to a place where I once ruled with a damn iron fist before it all fell apart at the hands of Frontline right before The Great War. However, I don’t have that feeling in me as I speak to everyone right now. Although I might enter this Clash, the one where the OWA World Championship is defended in and will go to the winner, I don’t feel as if that’s the main priority here for me. I heard everyone out there on Sunday night, all of them had their reasons to win the Clash. My motivation is finding myself again, finding what died and clicking it right back into place, and once that’s done? Take everything back and regain control of Kingdom.

That’s what the old me would’ve said anyway, I can’t promise myself victory in the current state of affairs as it is. I’m weak, I can’t fight as well as I used to, I've lost touch with myself and everything that I once had. A sacrifice for finding myself alive once again, I think. I have to relearn the ropes. I have to let things come back to me as they were. Though, I am going to give it my all because that’s the best that I can do. I used to be able to come in at above seventy percent and it’ll be on par with people giving a hundred and ten percent effort. Not the case anymore when there’s bullet shrapnel still lodged into the brain and affecting the things you used to perfect to a tee.

I guess, if there’s one question that I might have an answer to, it’s this one. Targeting an old friend upon coming back was just luck of the draw, he just happened to be where I was when I wanted to pounce. I could’ve gone down to the ring but I wasn’t going to take the risk when I was so vulnerable. Though, maybe it might’ve been a little bit of revenge on my part because a revenant sent a fucking boogeyman to come execute me instead of growing a fucking pair of balls to do it himself. If I wanted to die in this fucking company, the least that someone could’ve done is make sure Michael Bishop was the one to do so after our extensive history together as both allies and rivals. The least that a man can do is make sure that he, himself, can run back – with tears in his eyes from seeing a friend of his fall – and put the fucking bullet right in between my eyes to put me out of my damn misery.

And yet, for some fucking reason, he couldn’t even do that right. I don’t know whether to feel disrespected, in a way, or feel ashamed of you – disappointed in you – but there’s one thing I do feel, Michael. A pain far worse than being shot in the fucking head. A pain right in my heart that just won’t fucking go away for some reason and I feel it’s because you couldn’t finish the job right.

That’s cowardice.

I’m sure, when you died, you went right for the fucker who put you in the early grave too and you made sure that bastard suffered enough. When you were being kicked down to the curb, you made it a project to punch everyone down who may have stepped in your way. I took you down off of your perch, mere days from a record-breaking reign, and you sent someone else to do the fucking work for you because you couldn’t see clearly with the tears in your eyes after Jeff’s death.

Cowardice.

And it’s been the same thing from time and time again, you’re only looking for the right moment to shine and regain the same amount of popularity as you once did when you won the Clash last year, the same popularity that helped you crossed the finish line and helped you finish your story as OWA World Champion. Amazes me how you’ve been nothing but a man collecting dust in the shadows instead of doing anything else that’s productive. A reign that was beginning to grow tiresome, I had to put an end to that and bring some life back onto Kingdom. Yet, once again, you still couldn’t find a way to ‘get one back’ on me – even with chance after chance to do so.

You’re a fucking coward, Michael Bishop, and you won’t accept it. That’s your problem, that’s always been your problem, and the sooner that you might come to terms with that? The more that it may help with your personality because honestly, I’m sick to death of the same old “because i’m a hard cunt” bullshit you pull off each and every fucking week. You could’ve been something heroic, something good to those who needed it, but you’re just as bad as everyone else and I’m glad that – when I had the chance to expose it – I saw right through you and you’ve never looked the same since then.

But, I presume, the same can be said for others as well. That was the point of just knocking you down, the one singular pillar that stood in my way at the time, was showing the world that – not only was it just Michael Bishop, the deceitful and incompetent soldier – but everyone that he chose to stand near. Take a hit of names and you’d have named Kingdom’s supposed defenders from the forces of evil. I don’t need to speak on Arata Asakura yet, he might believe that I’m nothing more than a coward because of the attack on Michael but we’re all aware of the kind of man he’s been. Sabertooth has been on the line of whether or not he’s either a respected name or someone who truly cannot let go of the past that – somehow – haunts him to this day. Theodor Pavel waved goodbye from OWA because he made the better choice unlike any of us have ever made, walking away with his tail tucked between his legs, running cowardly from a fight that he knew he could never have won.

And then, there’s Jeff.

Oh, Jeff. I feel so miserable having to speak about you because it sickens me that someone like you is always painted to be the hero of the story and being painted as someone who’ll always be there for this company when it’s in peril. As much as it pains me to sit here, list off a truth about how intolerant many are, stroke your ego just a little bit more as you try to win this Clash – the one issue that I just can’t put any understanding in is your false identity over the years, where you always have to be the main character to this plot, when it never involves you whatsoever. And I don’t mean that from recently, no. My memory might be shortened with the head injuries taken, but you can see traces of this syndrome lasting for longer than a year or more, because for some reason, you always have to find a way to put yourself into something and make you a standout.

The key moments of OWA are filled with questions like: what’s Jeff going to do, how will Jeff retaliate from this event, what’s on the mind of Jeff now that this person’s dead or whatever – and I’m sure you’re going to tell me that I’m jealous because I never got to that sort of popularity but you’re wrong, actually, because if I ever gained main character syndrome? I’d take the second bullet to the head just so I won’t have to deal with that shit when I can’t keep up anymore. The thing is with you, Jeff, is every chance that it seems like the spotlight is being taken right away from you? Well, you’ll go out there and pull off one ridiculous publicity stunt that gets people talking, won’t you? The death, and then everyone was worried about how others would feel. So, you had to come back and insert yourself into a title match. And when you couldn’t win that because – by sheer fucking shock that I say this – you stabbed one of your own in the back, almost literally, to try and win the title? Well, someone had to make sure that he throws some sort of shade into the fire by practically saying that he doesn’t care who he hurts, all that runs through him is desperation.

Desperation, he says.

Lol, lmfao.

So, it wasn’t desperation to fake a death and come back all of a sudden? So, it wasn’t desperation that saw you crack a beer bottle over your friend’s head when he seemed to have an opening that would’ve seen him get the OWA World Championship? But, now, it just happens to be desperation because you know that you’re facing a good thirty people in this match and nobody can help you or save you in the slightest, much like what happened with nearly everyone at OWA Five? That, now, counts as desperation? Jeff, I don’t think you know what desperation feels like if it suckerpunches you right in the jaw. You don’t simply pick and choose when to feel desperate for something, if you had? You’d have been desperate a very long time ago, not in the current state of things. You’d have been vocal about your desperation for some time now, not because it’s around the time of when anyone and everyone can win the OWA World Championship, so your chances are surely slim to none.

So, please, speak down to me like how you're meant to do. After all, I’m nothing but a pawn in your game. The main character always gets what he wants at the end of the day now, right? The intolerable always gets given everything needed to become successful, right? You’re pathetic, I sincerely hope that someone – if not myself – may knock some sense into you.

I find these things simply hilarious, the claims of many and yet, they’re not able to make logical sense of their own claims. They don’t think straight ahead, they simply say it and hope that people don’t question the motives. Noah Krieger fell for this, at one point, and tried his best to fire blank warning shots. The problem was that he couldn’t seem to pick himself off of the ground much, or at the very least, trust himself with what he was saying. For a man that speaks a high game when he’s on point, he questions himself way too much for his own good. When I was once alive and very well, I had hoped to help save him from his troubles considering that every chance he saw fit to lift himself off of the ground would see him be shot down with immeasurable ease. I had hoped for the best for you, Noah, and that I won’t lie about but you have always been your own worst enemy. You’re unsaveable and the only person that can be blamed for that is yourself. I don’t see fit in hoping your downfall happens because it’s happened before, it’s happened many times beforehand, but take a look at yourself, you’ve seen a brightside to all of that harrowing failure. You won the championship that you couldn’t beat me for, you won the prize that you always saw fit on you being the eventual winner in, and that’s a good thing.

But, you haven’t really earned it, have you? I take a look at some of the names that you’ve beaten to win that championship and I’m impressed. MYOJIN is no easy feat to get past. J.D. Damon is a silent killer. Jacob Striker gave me a hard fight when he fought me for the World Championship. And, of course, Chad Ecclestone is always destined for the future. I knew that for a very long time, I knew that when you and I clashed at Boiling Point, and if I were more of a disrespectful man towards you? I’d say that you were lucky to get anywhere past those few. But, I cannot respect you as the Spartan Champion right now when I haven’t seen you defend that championship and – the biggest point of them all – you hadn’t earned the prize because you haven’t bested me. You haven’t had the power in you to overthrow what I had always thrown your way. The problem with you is that you’re always going to be in my shadow, you’re always going to be inferior compared to me, you’re always going to find yourself below me because you haven’t earned the respect and the title that you have been carrying around right now. Nothing about you has been proven because the one hurdle that you couldn’t get over, the one hurdle you couldn’t escape from, is still standing and breathing – even after being fucking murdered and executed.

And that has truly shown something to me, when I begin to think about it, that you couldn’t make a big enough name for yourself even when I had fallen off of my perch as World Champion, lost the goddamn war, and fucking died. A lousy fucking championship win for yourself hasn’t proven anything but being a toy that you’ve collected. I expected you to have done something but all you’ve shown is a honesty being alongside carnies and dick riding faggots like Catch Hound and haven’t even secured himself one singular defense of that championship you hold. Hell, the biggest event that OWA has held outside of Final Destination and you couldn’t even find yourself on that fucking card to even defend the title. The sheer amount of disrespect that you have not only shown to the championship, to the heritage that it’s earned, to the history that has been created around it, but to this brand as a whole is beyond humiliating. And the worst part of all of that?

I created that history.

I built that heritage.

I AM WHAT THE SPARTAN CHAMPIONSHIP IS MADE FOR.

… but I don’t need it anymore in my life, I’ve moved on from championships like those. Unlike the many that have won the World Championship before in their lives, lost it and moved onto the lower-tier championships, I do not feel the need to carry around the weight of the Spartan Championship anymore. My time as Spartan Championship is unprecedented, untouchable, and fucking undeniable. It took a total of five hundred and five days before someone could pin me for the championship. (Noah Quinn never pinned me, let the record show.) A whole year and four months spent as an unpinned, unsubmitted, two-time OWA Spartan Champion. I have more combined defenses with the championship than anyone has ever accumulated in their reigns. But, if you want to continue on my legacy and try to create your own, Krieger? Then, be my guest. I endorse you to make a great attempt. Your best, after all, couldn’t match my worst and I want you to never forget that. Your greatest moment, after all, couldn’t match what I have ever accomplished as champion. And when you sit back, think, and reconsider your next steps as the champion? Remember the man you could never beat to take that off of. Remember what you couldn’t accomplish. You speak enough about me, by the sounds of how you’ve been since that night, so I know that I have become a form of an influence for you to push forward.

Though, I’d much rather push you forward and off of a fucking cliff.

Yet, we’re not all given what we want. We’re all not given the golden chances to take in our lives when it’s handed to us. But, when it’s handed to us on a silver platter and you’re given the keen position to push forward, you’ve got to shoot your shot and pray you don’t miss. Stark had done exactly that. For the small sum of three hundred dollars, he found himself in position to take something that he’s made countless attempts on gaining but never found himself in the right spot to do so. Secure himself a World Championship reign here in OWA. There’s not much that I can seemingly get mad at you for, Stark. You had every opportunity to shoot open up for you and you took it, it’s sad that things turned out the way it did because I wanted to make things as fair as it came. Those stupid fucking whores from Odyssey decided that they wanted to run their business where it never belonged, they decided that they wanted to put me at a disadvantage and attack me, put me down enough so you can hit the fatal killing blow, and they helped you take the OWA World Championship from me.

However, I cannot fault that you’ve been a prominent champion ever since winning the championship. You went ahead and defeated some of the biggest names that Oasis has thrown to you to make sure that championship is off of your shoulders or waist. You’ve done a whole lot better of a reign than I could have even dreamed of having. That, in my heart, hurts because there’s a sinking feeling in my stomach that keeps on saying that it should’ve been me, it should’ve been me in your position, but I never had the chance to get the reign that I wanted. And maybe it fucking hurts more that you’re defeating all of these names, yet, you couldn’t even single handedly beat me for the fucking championship, Stark. Maybe we’ve left that part out of the mix because people would much rather it be known that Jason Long was beaten down by Stark for the OWA World Championship and not that three nymphomaniac whores decided to come in, strike me down, and left me for you to hit your one finish to secure the win in your name. Nobody wants to mention that because it’s always been the key point that stood out the most: Jason Long lost the OWA World Championship in forty-three days.

There’s respect for the names that you’ve beaten after taking the OWA World Championship from me, Stark, but I was not going to let it slide that you couldn’t even find the balls to take me down by yourself. You couldn’t find the emptied heart in you to put me down by yourself. I would’ve liked to have my one rematch be a simple one on one but there’s more to taking the OWA World Championship from you in this match than you might think. I’d have taken down all of Kingdom in one singular match and asserting the same fucking dominance that I had when I usurped Michael Bishop at his own game in front of my hometown. But, my main focus is making sure you do not go unnoticed in this match. There’s so much I could bring my focus onto in this match but you, Stark, are not going to go untouched here. Whilst my anger should not be directed towards you, seeing as you only played the part of landing that final hit when I was being taken down a notch for you, but you stepped up when I had planned on moving onto The Great War without the worry of having to defend the championship. You started the domino effect and the pieces that fell have left me here, a rotting – yet, living – corpse who shouldn’t be standing but somehow is, bandaged up and unable to fight as well as I’d like to, and on the verge of what might as well be career and life suicide.

As you can tell, the blade didn’t need to be pushed into my skin at all. I didn’t need to find myself in a horrific episode of depression and self-harm to find myself on the verge of death because too many people were wanting me dead to begin with. As you can tell, I wasn’t going to fall into the arms of a hispanic-passing white woman who leeches off of anyone that she gets her hands on. (The thought of having Nas’ – and many others – seconds is beyond revolting, I can’t believe you’d even think that’d ever happen.) As you can tell, I only fell off of where I was to come bouncing right back up into the mix because you have the one thing that I shouldn’t have lost to begin with. That’s why I came back when the time was right, when the opportunity was opened up to take, and when the moment would be monumental. A victory here would see me back at the fucking throne where I shouldn’t have fallen off of, this victory will see me right where I belong and being the man who has – once again – saved this company from an eventual ending.

Strong Style Wrestling has died a very long time ago, Stark.

Let it rest for once and leave the remains alone.

The supposed takeover that you might think will happen is not going to become a reality for as long as I remain – for the time being – living and breathing, existing as an entity in this world and not put six feet deep into the fucking soil. Again, I don’t know exactly what brought me back into this world but I know what I want to achieve with the one last chance I’ve been given to live in this mortal world. Take back what’s mine, take back being the leader of the kingdom, and take back the throne that so many still believe that they’ve got a say in getting close to.

I was concerned for the future if I hadn’t come back, I had worried for what was to come for my kingdom had I not found a new lease of life to breathe. Because you’ve all forgotten how most endings go in the story, it seems.

The heroes never die. ❞

Christopher Sabertooth, Alyssa Grace, Elijah Hampton, 'Don' Hendrix, Remington Ivory Prescott, Felix Hartley and Chad Ecclestone have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos June 6th 2023, 3:47 am by **RexMaddox**

Quote :: Speech is the freedom and ability to speak the mind's deepest and darkest thoughts.

Addiction is a tough substance to overcome for some individuals. It can come in vastly different varieties and sizes. Some are addicted to pills, some are addicted to alcohol, and some are addicted to pain and pleasure. When the mind begins to trick you into believing this is what you wanted all along, the sickened world becomes reality. I stopped worrying about how the world would perceive me and began to torture those very people surrounding me.

Was it fair?

Who really knows what's fair in modern society? We live in a world full of self-centred, entitled human beings who haven't worked an honest day in their entire existence.

What makes me different, you ask?

When I set my sights on the world of professional wrestling, I actually gave a fuck. The hope and dreams every single young superstar has or has had I realized when I got a bit older that those hopes and dreams were just illusions and figments of imagination.

Something had to change.

It was during this time in my life that I began to understand the amount of power and manipulation I was capable of. I was able to use my words to instill fear in others. I was able to use my mind to make others feel uncomfortable.
It's kind of a fucked-up thing to do.

I had no remorse or regrets about the things I was doing when I felt they were validated. In my own reflection, I felt like the world was beneath me. I was able to inflict chaos and maelstrom without any precautions. I was in the mental and emotional state to wreak carnage on anyone whose path crossed mine.

Where does that lead me now?

From the gutter, I have stumbled into the Omega Wrestling Alliance. When I signed with this company, it was now my house of horror. I didn't need any more excuses to let my anger fuel my actions. It was all laid out in the open for the world to see; all I had to do was take it.

They are not prepared.

A blind eye had been turned to the sickened individual they let walk through that door. The same person who will stare you directly in the eyes is the same individual who wishes you bodily harm. I am not speaking about a dull, petty wound; I want it to be substantial enough to cause real pain and suffering.

Torn-up flesh and blood leak.

It sounds like a perfect toxic combination, if I do say so myself. This is only the beginning of what we will soon call the norm. So as you sit still with a rapid heartbeat and struggle to breathe, just know that soon I will be there.
Who am I to ask?

I am the same man who will hold the door open for you and cave the back of your head in as you walk past. When you turn around to see what hit you, a smile and a middle finger will greet you.
Very pleasant, I know.

Class of titans...

It sounds like a great concept with great intentions to showcase specific wrestlers. They never accounted for the fact that I, Rex Maddox, would have my fingerprints all over the scene. Most people sat back and said, who? When my name was announced, what a mistake they made! You see, just like the blood sucking mosquitoes lingering, these other wrestlers are drawn to one thing. I am not entering the ring with the same common practices and the mindset of winning a championship. I am exerting that exact ring to feed the addiction that has kept me awake many nights.
The struggle of a sleep-deprived soul.

When you lay awake and let the frustrations and hatred build inside you. It's unfortunate someone has to pay that taxing price for realistic purposes. So I beg for someone in that sweat-filled, maggot-infested locker room to step up. I want to see the look inside those eyes when your confidence becomes depleted.

Queue the heavy breathing.

By now, you are beginning to choke up on your own mucus and phlegm. Don't worry; soon enough, you will have a metallic taste from the blood inside your mouth. The only way to win a match of this nature is to be the last one to survive. If you have that instinct embedded in your mind at all times, you have a better shot. I have looked over the talent that has been admitted to the clash.
Not fucking impressed.

I was expecting just a little bit more from this locker room.

A Sabertooth without animalistic tendencies.

He may seem like a cherished, accomplished competitor, but he also tries to play the middle ground between a wrestler and a fanatic. I have seen the minimalistic attempts you have made to honour the other competitors and speak highly of them. Even inside yourself, you can’t help but feel the draining facts. You want to be that top guy but also want to acknowledge the rest of them. The pedestal is only big enough for one superstar, and unfortunately, your time is nearing its end. If this was about a year ago, you would have had a chance to slip away with that heavyweight championship. I get it; you are longing for that moment when you can finally say you did it. What stands before you is an individual on a mission to make sure that doesn’t happen. I want you to understand that the time for the old to step aside and allow the young, fresh face to initiate his takeover is now upon us. Close your eyes for a second and think really hard. That night was never going to reflect exactly what you had in mind. Tongue in cheek, don’t even try to lie or deny the fact that you looked at the lineup and assumed it would be an easy night. I have put forth that night won’t be anything you can even chalk up as success. I want you to understand the pain I have inflicted upon you and that each and every person has a deeper-rooted meaning and sense of accomplishment.

I ordered the Ravio without the sauce.

Big loss against the dominant and new tag team champions in Darkane and Lazarus Argen, and you must be irate. For the minority, right? In my deep, darkened mind, I call it For the Majority. Let that sink into your brain for a moment, because the majority of people don’t want to hear you speak or watch you wrestle. History was never my strongest subject, but I don’t need to be a historian to know Ravio is all smoke and mirrors, guns blazing, but he forgot the bullet he needed to pull the trigger. I have zero issues continuing where Darkane and Lazarus left off, bludgeoning you within an inch of your life. In this world, we have two types of people: one who uses his mouth too much and one who uses his fists to speak. This entire week, your head has been on a swivel, making sure you do anything you can to be heard. I know you wish to not see Stark walk away with the championship because that gash would be the deepest. I literally could give two fucks how many of you and your buddies are inside that ring. When I look at the situation, I love being outnumbered; it just has a more satisfactory feeling when I do walk away from the clash.

Leave no Eccelstone unturned.

He's bratty and arrogant, but he doesn’t know when to stop running his flaps inside the locker room and inside the ring. It must be tough to wake up in the morning and stare at your high school haircut in the mirror. I have never seen such a person who believes he is owed more in the wrestling industry than he is. Gel your hair and rub the lotion on it so you can look more like the bitch you are. Walking around here as arrogantly as you please and underestimating the guy who will leave you with two black eyes and a busted jaw is foolish. Just know that I will hit you so hard that your prepubescent voice will lower a few octaves in that moment. Now, as you stare blankly into the abyss of the world you formerly knew as a changed man, you finally know what war and chaos taste like. The year is twenty-two-three, and lost in the shuffle is a meme of being a Chad. It’s not laughable or intelligent anymore.

Noah came before the flood. I have come before the fire.

Balls of steel, but the brain of an infant who hasn’t fully developed. Speaking so highly about being the best in the business, just because you had a few good matches doesn’t make you the most powerful. I don’t need to be featured in classic matches or have victories categorized to know what is about to happen. I opened the doors to this playground myself so I could make a statement, and that plan will not deviate. I like the fact that my name hasn’t been heard before and that I am not a global sensation or household name. I want to prove to the entire world that nightmares and destruction still exist.

I have never owned an Atari before.

Wait, his name is Arata? I have never owned one of those before, either. Just like the inferior and obsolete console, it’s time to reproduce and update the model. How is this inferior product still holding onto the Outlaw Championship? It’s such a petty shame that I have to slay and dethrone the man who thinks he has it all figured out. He has a devoted fanbase despite being loved by many and despised by many. I know this is going to hurt you more than it will hurt me when I reach across and shove my index fingers inside your eye sockets. I plan to gouge and scrape my way to the top in this match, and there is nothing you can do to stop it.

What about the rest of the lambs being sent to slaughter?

Extra slabs of meat were added to the bout to add to the rack of lamb dripping blood in the kitchen sink. Don’t fret or even think you have been missed just because your name wasn’t mentioned. If a name was skipped, it was done for a purpose. You haven’t proven to me that you are even relevant inside the locker room. I had set targets my eyes were drawn to that needed to be addressed primarily before we got into the potatoes. No one cares about the side more than the main course. This clash is the one that everyone will remember when the bell tone sounds and I am standing alone on top.

What would make me the best champion?

The kill or be killed mentality is a tough trait to master in pro wrestling, and I have managed to build a career on this unique ability. The time of being a paper champion is beginning to fade from the scene, and the era of fighting champions is becoming more frequent. When Darkane and Lazarus won those tag team championships, it opened a lot more doors. What was behind those doors? The two of them pushed the limits of what was acceptable in this industry and how far you could go. The line was drawn back, and the moment they crossed, the hounds were let loose. You've ever heard the statement that the inmates run the asylum? That’s exactly what is happening now.

Forbidden scum always has a sanctuary.

No matter how many times I fight or get bruised, I always have an answer to the problem ahead of me. I walk with a purpose, I walk with a swagger, and I walk with evil intentions in my mind daily. Gone are the days of superstars with good intentions, and in come the superstars who just want to cause harm. The scars and cuts across this body are nothing more than trophies of the career I have had up to this point. I have had countless surgeries, operations, and repairs done to counter the punishment I have endured. Every time a needle is placed inside me and injected, I smile. Every time the scalpel runs across the skin, making small incisions, the pain is tremendous. If these are the types of things I need to do to be successful in this industry, then so be it. I plan to walk inside the Clash to gain my pound of flesh and accolades in the toughest way possible.

Will I have a long future, or will my body begin to deteriorate?

As of right now, my body is more stable than the thoughts I have festering inside my head. This might be the biggest match I have ever had, but it is also the most gruesome opportunity to feed my addiction. As far as the future goes, it seems a little murky and unpredictable at this moment, but a lot will reflect on the Clash. The trajectory and recalibrations will all depict the outcome of that night.
What’s in store for the competitors?

I have planned out the night in accordance with how I feel things need to be dealt with. The madness portion inside me is saying to enter the ring like a wildfire and burn everything in sight, but I know that’s not the case. Every attack and every battle inside that ring need to be calculated and timed efficiently to produce the right outcome. Don’t get your hopes up to see me put myself in danger of losing because of clouded judgment. We all know the main focus is to cause harm, but that’s also not going to limit my chances of walking away victorious.
A shot of liquid courage.

Rum goes down nice and easy. Drinking is the perfect getaway from the problems and casualties of everyday grievances. Most times, I leave my emotions at the bottom of the bottle, suppressed inside, waiting to explode. Rum has always been my drink of choice. It has gotten me through a lot of dark days in my life. The moment I turned into the violent being I am now, I knew I was too far gone to turn back. The life I chose to pursue cost me the life I used to have, but that didn’t stop me. I was greedy and willing to let everyone who cared walk away to get me where I am today. I know deep down I am the only one to blame for these self inflicted wounds, but that’s a part of the game.

Lifeless emotions urge the appetite.

It was a long, dark night.

Aggression fuels spite.

I was too drunk to notice the brake light.

I had blurred eyesight.

It was just a little after midnight.

When we came upon that red light.

When the car crashed, it sounded like dynamite.

The lady I hit wasn’t sitting upright.

The accident was my fault.

When I stumbled out of my car that night and could barely walk in a straight line, I knew I shouldn’t have been behind the wheel. I walked away that night with just a couple of scratches and minor injuries, but the same couldn’t be said for her. The reason I now drink is to suppress the thought of what this lady was being put through. I should have been relieved that she survived that wretched wreck, but her life will never be the same. The hospital fees, the operations—and yet she still isn’t back to normal living even fifteen years later. I took it hard and beat myself up over it, but the drinking was also helping me forget that chapter. It was that night that something inside me snapped and forced me to accept who I was now. Due to that terrifying experience, I have now evolved and been born to ignore my emotions.

Was this the right thing to do?

It made the most sense at the time, and over time, it just became a natural motion that I have lived through daily. Every day I wake up with the memory of that night, shaking and trembling but not scared. What happened was done and over, and I had paid my dues for my mistake, but that didn’t deter me from the path I was on.

What happened after this, you ask?

It took many years of pills and alcohol to finally get past the misery of the event, but because of that, I had a new outlook on my career. The anger and punishment emotions slowly began growing each waking day. It was only a matter of time before I ended up here with the worst attitude ever seen toward mankind. Now I sit in a lonely house by myself, drinking shots of rum and chain-smoking cigarettes like a crackhead off the street. You could ask yourself why you put these toxins inside your body and poisoned yourself, but you would find an excuse. Wrestling would eventually become my escape from these feelings and allow me to do what I wanted to do without any reparations or consequences.

What happened to that lady, you ask? Have I seen her since?

I couldn’t give a rat's ass about that lady, to be quite honest with you. Where she is now or where she ended up wasn’t my issue after everything was done. Did I ever give her a formal apology? Without a chance. I did my time for that crime and moved on from it, so why can’t she? I bet the last thing she wants is to be constantly reminded of the face of the man who drunkenly smashed into her.
She could have been in a grave, but she wasn’t so lucky, I must say.

Everything has been laid out in the open, and the world has been exposed to my mind and matter. I dare any of you motherfuckers to try and use my past to gain the upper hand on me and witness the regret. If you view this as weakness or a downfall, you will pay the ultimate price for such convictions. I am nothing more than a virus spreading amongst the entire roster that will slowly weed out the weak and feeble. I want you to feel sick to your stomach and feel your knees buckle at the sight of me.

No weapons are allowed.

I was already advised that I was not allowed to use any blunt objects to force my opponents to gain the edge. I have to resort to the old school days of using my bare knuckles to cause as much blunt-force trauma as humanly possible. I hope most of you aren’t squeamish when the amount of blood begins to trickle down your head and face. I do plan to walk away from this night with some sort of sense of accomplishment, but I also won’t refuse to walk away with that championship around my waist. I want each and every one of you to go to bed and rest up, enjoying the last few nights of peace and quiet you have left. I am expecting to see everyone step inside that ring and give forth their best effort, even though it will come up a little short.
Blood is in management's hands now.

When the night is done and over with the Clash, no one will be left to blame other than the management, who put you in this predicament. Take a long, hard moment to wonder why they would ever allow you to be in the danger zone. Management here in OWA didn’t expect to see a warrior emerge from within the shadows of the unknown territory. All the blood spilled, all the injuries, and all the broken dreams can be blamed on them. All they had to do was a little research and scouting to understand the type of wrestler they were dealing with, and all of this could have been avoided - Now it’s too late to fix it. I am changing the landscape of OWA and making management rethink the way to recruit from now on.
Last rights.

June 17th will mark the date I was released with full force and no remorse. June 17th marks the date that twenty other superstars were forced to give up the thought of one day being called champions. Only one person is able to take that title, and it will be the guy who brings the most dominance and willingness to compete. This won’t be for the faint of heart, and it will be the most taxing and gruesome match most of you have ever been in. You have not heard the least from myself before the event, but stay tuned; I have plenty more to say.

The forbidden scum has spoken.

Christopher Sabertooth, Alyssa Grace, 'Don' Hendrix, Remington Ivory Prescott, Felix Hartley and Chad Ecclestone have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos June 5th 2023, 8:50 pm by **Raivo**

(A blur is how the scene starts again, with muffled noises of a crowd and flashes from lights presumed to be cameras come from them. It focuses now to Raivo during a Bare-Knuckle Championship bout. From the crowd reaction and the banners on the side of the cage it seems to be a “grudge match” with Raivo fight off against the person who beat him. After the round ends they return to their corners and get a talk from their coaches. Nothing heard is said and the competitors walk toward the middle now getting ready for the next round. As it’s started Raivo reaches out his fist like a sign of respect but as the opponent gets close, Raivo leans forward and says something. The opponent seems stunned, gets incensed and charges Raivo. As he does, Raivo dodges a haymaker and clocks the dude in the jaw and then hit a back elbow to his temple and he goes down. The crowd cheers at the KO, as the noise muffles and scene transitions to afterward in the gym. Multitudes of Raivo’s trainers surround him, congratulating him.)

Trainer 1: You got your fucking lick back, Terrell. Everyone thought you was done after that first loss, but now we know that shit was a fluke. He ain’t have an answer for anything you was throwing at him. Hell he thought you was a chump he decided to get you out in the second round with that haymaker but shit don’t work on you Terrell.

Trainer 2: That was the biggest rookie mistake I’ve ever seen here. I don’t get how you can make something like that so obvious and not expect someone to flub and knock your shit in. It was hilarious. And I’m sure his trainers got on his ass afterward.I don’t know what you said to him or what you told him to get him so fucking riled up but it worked. And ain’t no one play them mind games like you.

(Raivo is putting his gear up in the locker, while his trainers continue to talk shit about the other competitor. Raivo’s father and Vic finally come in with clicks and flashes from cameras following them trying to get a shot of the inside of the gym and the winner of the bout. Raivo’s Father walks up to speak with him.)

???: I heard from the other side. What the hell did you do.

(Raivo grabs his bag and shuts the locker door and turns to face his father.)

Raivo: I got the last laugh.

(Raivo walks off and the scene ends. It comes back to present day with Raivo sitting in an empty room a lone light shining down on him as well as a mic dangling in front of him. He stands up and starts to talk.)

Raivo: The clash is going to be something to remember, a piece of information that everyone has said up until now and even until the match ends. People will speak of this for years, and that’s without the results being known. Because of that it’s imperative that I win this. It’s not a matter of what happens if I win, it’s not a matter of what I’ll do if I lose. I don’t take into account failure, I don’t have that in my plan whenever I make it. Cause it’s a foolish thing to do, to account for failure, to make it known that something will fail, because then you’re showing you don’t believe in yourself or in your ability. And unless you’re deaf, dumb, blind, or a cousin fucker like the Frontline, you already know that Raivo believes in his ability. No one else does but if I was the type of fucker to listen to everyone you wouldn’t have For the Minorities. Look I’m on my Hobie Brown shit, fuck the authority, fuck all the noise that these assholes wanna say about my aptitude and my ability to be the top guy here because their version of the top guy is this white man who fucks his sister raw in the back of a rusted camaro, with no future or aspiration to make something better of themselves. That’s what OWA is to these people, to those types of people. They see other sibling fuckers in these roles that when you finally got a respected individual finally making a name for themselves that gotta shit on them to stunt they growth and to put them in a light that makes them look unfavorable. For the Minorities has been that group that been fighting against those ideas and those looks because we don’t stand for that type of shit. And because of that For the Minorities has been villainized and told to stay in they place.

(Raivo grabs the mic in front of him and pulls down on it. And acting like a switch it illuminates the room around him. Behind him is a conspiracy looking graph. Everything looks like it was made in a manic bout of stress with everything being tethered or connecting with one another. However the most obvious thing on it is the OWA Championship circled with arrows pointing at it. The pictures are of the competitors with X out over them, and words scribbled on them ranging from cunt, sister-fucker, or with compliments like actually a funny dude or brother on it. But the phrase that keeps coming up is “I Always Have the Last Laugh”)

Raivo: People look at FTM in abject horror because we are what they didn’t want to come alive, a world in which minorities know they are better than the whites. A world in which Minorities don’t get any of the consequences that society has laid out to punish others for finally realizing we deserve more. They’re afraid of that and no matter what anyone else says, no matter what they all come out and say that is what is fueling their hatred for FTM. Hell even people who don’t know what subtext is can see how they’re trying to drive that wedge. They give DT, fake appraisal and condemn me because they want us to be at each others throats. They say these things to try and get us to believe on is better over the other but that ain’t true. Raivo always been a team player, he ain’t blame anyone except the weak for the failures that Raivo has faced. When DT and Raivo lost our six tag match it was cause of Rin Asakura not being able to pull their weight. When FTM forfeited the Great War it wasn’t due to what Raivo and DT wanted, nah it was cause Diantha was honor bound to some warrior shit, which I hope she’s realizing is what always keeps her brother pegged into the hole of irrelevance. When we lose it ain’t the sum of two parts but the minus of one fucking person and that ain’t gonna reflect on us. For the Minorities is stronger together, not because we bring out something out of the other. No we’ve always been this strong as individuals, but what makes us strong is the fact that no matter how much OWA, Frontline, any of these fucking factions that wants to punish us, no matter how much THEY try, they will never be able to do that. Had it just been one of us, it would be a lot harder for me to say that, but nah as a group we are brought together by that conviction. And because of that they try the goddamn best to make sure we don’t see the light of our work. And this Clash, this historic event, it’s going to be another effort for them to try and make sure we don’t see that light ever again. We are all going in there to fuck shit up one way or another. But and I don’t mind admitting this because it will just play into the hubris of everyone else, but y’all think STARK of all people is one you have to worry about. People always talk about how they got a common enemy, how they got someone in mind to try and take out, and that they are going to be hellbent to make sure STARK loses. Ok that’s fair. But what about after Stark gets eliminated? What about that? Are you worried then about who wins? Nah cause you’re just hoping and are going to make sure its YOU who wins. But For the Minorities, For the Minorities is in it to make sure either one of us wins. You want to think Stark is the only problem, and it’s easy to think that. A one vs 18 match with the highest possibility of Stark losing. But I don’t care for OWA, DT don’t care for OWA, For the Minorities don’t care for OWA. We don’t care if Stark somehow makes it to the final four, final three, or even final two because he ain’t leaving that Ring with the title.

(Raivo walks up to the board and pulls out a butterfly knife he had on him and starts to stab the picture of Stark and tears it up.)

Raivo: Stark is not leaving with that title, For the Minorities is. But all of you are focused on just the first bit of that sentence, that you are forgetting that For the Minorities is still one of the biggest factors of this match. Whether you respect us or not is irrelevant. Talk with Chris, Jeff, Bishop, Arata, anyone in the Frontline and they will tell you that as much as they hate us, they know we always comeback and we always find ourselves in the thick of it no matter what. They tried their god damn best to make sure we don’t make it out of the War. They tried their best to kill us before the match even started, leading all the way up I’ve had to dodge hailstorms of bullets, grenades, and plastic explosives because the Frontline knows that we have to be dead to stop showing up and ruining their fun. In this match, death isn’t an option, and that scares them, hell I’m sure it scares you all as well. Because no matter what happens, no matter who ends up being the last to be in that match, you already know unless you get rid of both me and DT, For the Minorities is going to be there. And as long as we’re there, the mere fact that we can win increase little by little until it becomes the only answer. And that’s what makes you scared. That’s what makes it hard for you to comprehend or even want to acknowledge. You can crack jokes about how I’m all bark no bite, about how DT is going to turn on me and For the Minorities, or about how this will be the last stand before it implodes, but that’s cause you are so narrow-minded you see conflict in everything. That’s a white man thing, the conflict within groups. Hell their ain’t ever been some conflict with For the Minorities. Conflict arose when Frontline hated Arata. Chad conflicted with so many other people because he rightfully was having his flow stolen by some rejected garbage pail kid. MYOJIN and Arthur conflicted with Frontline on who could suck Theo’s cock better. But never, not once have you had FTM conflict with one another. Yes I have issues, with one thing, but that’s been brought to light and we’ve hashed it out. Do I gotta like it even if we did hash it out, no but I ain’t gonna let it destroy all we worked for. This Clash is all about that, having Conflicts come to light but unlike everyone who keeps they conflicts in the closet, which is very homophobic considering the month, For the Minorities has their conflict in the open and squashed. We fucking allies to all my gay homies cause of that. The Clash gonna have all these surface level conflicts rise up and it’s gonna be the burden of everyone involved to get they shit straight because if you don’t then your fear of FTM winning is gonna be here. AIn’t like you got a choice in the matter anyways.

(As Raivo talks he begins to feel his phone vibrate. He looks at it, visibly annoyed by who is calling, but begins to smile when he realizes it’s Vic calling.)

Raivo: Lemme guess you found it. And did it answer everything you wanted or is this just some little check in to tell me I’ve gone astray?

Vic: Raivo, what the fuck did you do? All those years, has it always been an accident?

Raivo: I did what I had to do like I’ve always done, like you both always taught me to do. Play the games these people think they’re winning only for them to realize it’s always been my intent, by MY WILL that they’ve even been considered players in the first place. After, I lost that one time I decided to plan to get my lick back, one way or another. And you know people don’t like it when you involve someone they know, or hell they don’t realize something’s gone wrong up until they find out.

Vic: You purposely chose him because he beat you once? You didn’t have to bring his brother into it.

Raivo: YES I FUCKING DID VIC. I always get what I need. Whether it’s my win back, whether it’s a championship, my fucking authority back I always get it. You two have just always been narrowed minded on the aspect, on the effort to do so. Always been held back by the limits of morality and justification. Justification happens whenever I need it to happen. I don’t need to explain anything, I don’t need to have any reason, as long as it happens. If I have to beat someone’s brother to a pulp for them to lose their edge, then I’ll do it. If I have to play to the insecurities of some so they doubt, then I’ll do it. If I gotta act like an ass in order for people to think they’re better then me then so be it. It will be all the sweeter when they fucking realize how much they’ve been dupped. Because that’s what all this is about anyways, playing the game that I have set. Not by the rules they want, not by the efforts they put, but by how I play. It’s house rules mother fucker always has been. Because like that that paper said, I always get the last laugh.

(Raivo hangs up, throws his phone to the side, and stares off into space for a minute before starting back where he was.)

Raivo: When we talk about games people always bring in chess, like pawns on a board, making allegories about how they’re the strongest on the board because they move like a knight, have complete authority like a queen, or some allegory like that. They’re pretentious, they saw one episode of Queen’s Gambit and was like they knew the rules or some shit. But people are funny, they keep using one thing to be the end all be all when it comes to making a plan. Hell if you look at what they say they gonna do, what they are planning to do, or even how they’re gonna do it, I can bet it’s cause they planned it all like a chess board, a fucking game with no real stakes. But the thing about chess is it can come to a standstill, it can end in a draw. Play someone good enough you can always play to draw because you can’t figure out the next move or they can’t figure how to dupe you. There’s always room for no one wins, and I don’t like that. I like dealing in absolutes, either I win or I lose. I ain’t here for that draw shit, I ain’t here to make someone feel good because they found the strategy to make it so that neither of us wins. Nah I’m here to make sure you lose, and I win. There’s no gap in my plan, there’s room for you to make a move, there’s nothing for you to do except be a game piece. Cause like good ole Vic, and like my Pops wanted me to do, they wanted someone who could play by their rules and their rules alone because they were certain it was a winning strategy. I never thought that, but as long as I won, I kept using it, until one night I didn’t. I hate losing, I hate it when someone gets the upper hand against me. I hate it even more when it happens cause I was using a plan that WASN’T MINE. Call me prideful, call me a bastard, call me delusional. Call me whatever because I can already tell you this. I don’t care, I never will and that no matter what I’m keep true to me, true to MY moniker. The Authentic Raivo. The One who causes problems, the one who has no trouble being the problem, the one who will do what it means necessary to ensure that I Come out on top. But not just me, but the people who want to come out on top. I don’t forget loyalty, I don’t forget companions, I don’t forget the people who choose to fight by my side. Because they all could have left, they all could have said Fuck Raivo and left me to my own devices. But I don’t forget them for letting me take their dreams into my hands and elevating them with me. And they know this, they know all this and at the Clash I can say with so much certainty that it’s going to happen. You’re going to realize your dreams and I’m going to realize mine. Because The Clash is historic.

Raivo: The Clash is going to be a historic movement in the books of OWA, in regard to what’s on the line, the implications that follow, and the story, oh the story that has been brewing. Because the story of Scott Oasis trying to stick it to Stark has left his gaze away from the problem that’s been a thorn not only in his side, but in the side of OWA. And that thorn’s started to get infected, started to fill with puss and decay and is starting to become an annoyance because they decided it wasn’t as important as the nuisance that popped up in front of them. And that’s their fault, their fault they decided For the Minorities isn’t worthy of their time anymore. But unlike all these other, “wrestlers” they don’t got reason to win this other than to stick it to one man. Their pride been shattered, they’re lost and in their own hell they constructed because of one man. And while many would say I’m jealous, all I can do is laugh at OWA and it’s many saviors. So filled with content against one man for shattering their pride that it’s lead to to such a big ultimate challenge. One that they didn’t think through. Because if you want to do your what if’s on who would win, you can already see some sort of outcomes. If one of Frontline wins, it’ll be the same old that’s been the norm for the past 5 years. If Arata wins, who knows may be the Inzangi comes back and bring back the Arata we all know and love. If Chad wins, we get some admittedly funny scenarios but nothing that would make OWA fun. If Krieger wins, I think everyone would be come depressed by association. If anyone else wins, it’s a mash of their personalities influencing the outcome. Maybe a lot of title defenses against anyone, maybe it’s they make the OWA title worth while for anyone who wants to challenge for it, or maybe they become a one defense wonder and fade to obscurity. But What if For the Minorities wins? Have you thought what that future looks like. I mean you may think it because of what we’ve been doing for the past year, but do you actually know? Can you say with certainty that we’ll turn into another Golden Dawn? Can you say with certainty that we’ll just be the opposite of the Frontline? Or is hard for you to put a pin into how this will turnout. I can tell you know I see it clearly. I can see what OWA will have when I win. Complete and utter equality. Starting with the fact that we ain’t having those who fought for the title numerous times in the past, they ain’t gonna keep being in the picture. We need new blood, we need new people in this scene and I’m getting tired of those who fight for this title. Because it’s never earned, it’s always hand-picked, entrants spun on a wheel like wheel of fortune on who gets a chance to make a fool of themselves. But not when I win. Not when For the Minorities takes control of OWA. We are going to make this the title it should have always been. Coveted by anyone, fought for by anyone, not just to select few. Equality to it’s max. And that’s what gets these people scared because they believe they’ll be lost to the shuffle. And I want to set something straight. That is exactly what’s going to happen. I want people to come after me, because I want to be the person to be responsible for knocking them down, over and over and over again. I don’t want to be a fighting champion and person who takes on all comers like it’s a fucking honor bound thing. No I want to be the one that puts down these dogs like the fucking trash they are. When you face me, you’re getting put down because you can NEVER measure up. That’s the idea, that’s the goal. Equality in strength, and if you can’t fucking show up and show that you deserve to be here, they don’t deserve to be in this ring with me, with DT, with Diantha, with Maggall, with ANYONE of the FTM. That’s how it should be, that’s how it will be, and that’s how I’ll make it a reality. And it all comes down to what happens in the clash. The Clash is my game to play. Not some round of chess, not some game where people are pawns, because you are all pieces, you are all parts of this game and your fucking will to survive is determined by how useful you’ll be to the ultimate goal of me lifting this title above my head. Someone of you already have that rank in my head, someone of you keep climbing with every single day that passes, but make no mistake, that just means you’re not going to be eliminated until I want you to be eliminated. You want to play by your games, you want to play by the rules you set for yourself, well tough shit. This is Raivo’s Game now. You are going to be moving by how I want you to move, you are going to be making moves by how I dictate it. It will seem like you got freewill but never had it when I step in the ring. You never had freedom of movement, you’ve always been pieces in Raivo’s Game. The sooner you realize that the sooner you realize you’re going to lose. And that’s a fact, because it all comes down to one thing and one thing only. For the Minorities as winners and controllers of OWA. And after all of this scheming and planning your begin to realize one thing has matter this whole time and that’s I ALWAYS HAVE THE LAST LAUGH!

Alyssa Grace, 'Don' Hendrix, DT The Ruler and Chad Ecclestone have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos June 5th 2023, 4:55 pm by **Noah Krieger**

CLASH OF THE TITANS — PROMO #2 | REASON TO SEEK.

Taking a moment to appreciate what you’ve earned, proves how difficult it was to reach this point.

There was a naive child, one born on the rough side of the streets, attempting to find his way with only a dream — imagining this moment to a realistic outcome. Well, that same child, the one who lacked confidence, who couldn’t lift up his own two fists to defend himself, he couldn’t be more grateful — and pride only comes at the helms of a champion. If one thing has been learned at this stage of my life, it’s that life constantly comes at you at a rapid pace, and even with the blink of an eye — your fate could be decided for you. Unluckily for those who inhabit this world alongside me, there isn’t a universe where I’d willing to result in complacency, not for the sake of Clash of The Titans, and certainly not as the individual who’s representing an entire division. With this championship resting on my shoulder, there’s a certain responsibility that comes with being its rightful owner, and I’m aware of this fact. There isn’t a part of me, not even deep inside, where being a prideful competitor creates a daunting feeling, and I didn’t embark on this journey to be any less than the best — why would that begin now?

That’s not me, and it’s not the image I’m attempting to carve out.

Many have assumed that partaking in this bout is driven from outright greed, and they’ve proceeded to question why holding two championship belts simultaneously is even a pending thought on my mind — but that’s not it at all. I’ve always believed in the ideology of ensuring that your promises are kept, no matter the amount of time that they were made known publicly, all that mattered was that the task was eventually completed. So, over nine months after my unfortunate defeat at the hands of Jason Long, that loss was redeemed, and even with the victory proven to be well worth the wait — it still wasn’t enough to satisfy me, and why would it be — are we all that dense? There’s one thing that can be said for certain, there might be a championship currently worn around my waist, that void might’ve been filled at a temporary cause, but the sacrifices that I’ve taken in the past still haven’t been redeemed. The challenges that mean the absolute most to me still stand across from me, proceeding to haunt me in a pit of darkness, creeping up to me with ease — but no longer will this be tolerated.

There’s a line that shouldn’t be crossed, but here you are — Jason Long.

Only less than a year ago, you managed to embarrass me on one of the biggest stages imaginable, aware that the entire world would be watching — but witnesses have never been an issue for
you. Taking advantage of an inexperienced rookie on the most monumental occasion in his tenure thus far was simply another day in the office for you — and there’s no valid reason for me to hold any resentment over this act — but let’s not act naive, alright? You may have been perceived as the ‘future’ of this promotion at one point in time, but that doesn’t excuse the fact that once this dream transitioned into a full-fledged reality, the ability to rely on you vanished. This isn’t exactly surprising in the least, and if you remember correctly — there was one person who predicted this inevitable downfall — and it was me. You’ve carried yourself in a certain manner for years, with no reason given for you to alter this behavior, but now it seems as if there’s been one given, and that’s the ugly truth — that you may never hold the OWA World Championship again. This must kill you inside, this is clearly your own fault, one that can’t be undone, and possibly not even redeemed.

While there might have been a slight part inside of me that might’ve felt some pity for you in the past, the possibility no longer exists, and has long vanished — escaping along with the wind. For years and years, all you ever felt the need to speak about was your obsession to reach the pinnacle of our respective industry, and in return, capture the one accolade that had alluded you in your illustrious career, and that was the very championship that we have found ourselves reunited — prepared to seek battle against one another once more. You’re not worth another shot at being placed at the top of this sport, the pinnacle will never be centered around you, and that’s because deep down, I truly believe that you wish to stay below it, and the pressure that comes with this line of work isn’t worth it to you — and that’s due to your selfishness. I once vowed that I’d protect this company from your uncompromised tactics — and I’m prepared to test the waters once again.

My feelings aren’t exclusive to you.

It’s quite amusing seeing your name on the rundown list, Nate Cage. There've been plenty of sleepless nights thinking about the defeat that came from you, and how it’s barely spoken about. While it was months ago at this point, I do remember it quite vividly, and how the respect I offered to you at that specific time was like any other individual — but you took that as a naive approach. There was a sense of vulnerability that you managed to pick apart from within, and you proceeded to use it against me, and from there, you cheated your way to an unfaithful victory. This isn’t a brand-new concept to you though, you’re obviously keen on taking the easy road to your own success, you’ve done it plenty of times before — but I’m the one who isn’t going to allow it to continue. You might’ve been given countless opportunities to behave in this manner before, never expecting it to explode in your face, but that’s the issue with playing this kind of dangerous game — the risk is usually more than one would anticipate. However, even after escaping with a tainted victory, there still hasn’t been much to validate it in the slightest, no stories of triumph to gloat about, no championship celebrations to write home about, and that’s the entire point.

We don’t have to look far to understand the road you’ve decided to travel — the easy one. It’s a wonderful story to witness, and one that anybody could’ve seen from a mile away, and while I might be looped into that category, it still begs the question — why attempt your luck at Clash of The Titans. And while I’ve been attempting to figure out the answer to this marvelous question, I believe that I’ve finally managed to figure it out — this is set out to be your one-way ticket to relevance. You’ve never held any regard for the rest of us, all that ever mattered to you was that you were able to secure enough relevancy to feel important enough — but that’s where you’ve gone wrong. Without a belt, nor a crown, there’s no place for you within this company, you refuse to complete the more difficult tasks to earn your place once more, and if you believe that you’re going to skip over the rest of us and secure your one-way ticket to the headliner of the biggest event of the year — you’ve got another thing coming. There’s a reason why I’ve alluded to you being considerably desperate, you feel trapped enough to seek out something you clearly don’t deserve, and the constant display of insecurity from you is jarring — but there isn’t a sense of empathy to be felt for you. This time around, my naive actions won’t be my downfall, you aren’t to be trusted — and you’re not worth risking my livelihood over — not now, and certainly not in this unmatched environment.

However, that isn’t the case for everyone — there’s some exceptions.

I’ve attempted to clear my mind of you in recent months, but nothing seems to work.

You once almost ruined my career in a single evening, but that can’t be the case this time around.

There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do to rip you limb-by-limb, and that’s the scariest part of it all.

There isn’t any piece of me that can tolerate you, and can you blame me — Jeff X? If I can be completely transparent with you, this shouldn’t come as a surprise to you at all, you once stood toe-to-toe against me, and proceeded to not only rip away my championship belt, but sent me into a loophole of failure for the next month — it’s not something I can easily erase from my mind. Because, with the given timeline of events, my own failure against you resulted in my own past insecurities returning, and costing me the chance to prove myself to those who matter the most — the OWA faithful. And the way I see it, this is not a feeling I’d desire to feel again, nor one that I plan to. Y’see, there was once a time where I’d have to admit that fear is all I felt for you, looking at you, dead in your eyes, it isn’t something that I’d be inclined to do — but why should this be the case? You’re undoubtedly a fuckin’ coward, one who has to resort to ambushing a wounded individual from behind, and afterwards, you feel as if it’s completely acceptable to count this as a fair victory. Whether you’d like to admit it or not, there’s a clear reason why the OWA Outlaw Championship didn’t remain around your waist for a significant period of time — and it was mainly due to your inability to move forward, to continue desiring anything further.

I’m just wondering how did it feel? All that talk leading up to our highly anticipated encounter, all that could be said for weeks was how much finally becoming a ‘Grand Slam Champion’ meant to you — was the time well spent for you? Well, if it was me in your position, I feel as if I’d be quite disappointed at the result, as victory might’ve been obtained — the reward still wasn’t valued. You knew how much holding that weight upon my shoulders meant to me, how it kept me going on a daily basis, but that didn’t matter to you, as all you could see was completing the task that had been unsolved for years, and congratulations, success had been witnessed by thousands. However, even with this being said, you managed to lose hold of it in a matter of weeks, and that drives me insane. You may be an accomplished competitor, a veteran who has the respect of all who share the squared circle with you, but some of us refuse to forget the pain you’ve caused — and I’m one of them. I’ve been waiting for this moment, patiently stirring until the sorrow I once felt could be unleashed upon the individual who caused it in the first place. This Kingdom isn’t yet another mission for you to overtake, and I’ll do whatever it takes to ensure that you finally realize who you’re dealing with. I’m a champion, one who won’t kneel before another soul, not even you.

Unfortunately for you, this includes you, Arata.

For someone who’s been at this stage before, who has a relatively decent amount of success at the top of the ladder, I didn’t expect you to be this naive. At this time last year, you carried this promotion on your shoulders, while wearing the most important title in the industry around your waist, but can you recall how the conclusion came to be — how that specific story found its respective finish line? If it were me, I’d never allow myself to forget it, which is why I believe that there is no possible scenario where it hasn’t crossed your mind, but for both our own sakes — let’s remind you. That confidence that is pouring out from your bloated ego, it seemingly caused you to lose focus on what truly mattered, and that unmistakable error, it led you to losing your position at the pinnacle of our sport. Nonetheless, as you stand here this evening, with the unique opportunity to headline back-to-back Final Destination events, but instead you’d rather play the game of clear stupidity, and make the same mistakes less than a year later. I’ve silently watched along as you have passed me along, refusing to even acknowledge me in the slightest — and I’m beyond exhausted from pretending like it isn’t an issue. Allow me to be perfectly clear for a moment, this isn’t something that I can simply wash from my mind, your arrogance is completely unjustified — which needs to be dealt with.

One thing I know about this business though is that ignorance will never be rewarded. You might’ve led this promotion at one point in time, but you’ll learn soon enough — my name isn’t one to easily gloss over. No matter how you currently feel about me, or what the past has taught you, you’ve seen what I’m able to accomplish firsthand when I’m battling with passion involved, and when my name isn’t dared to be dragged through the mud — what do you think will be done when the opposite occurs? Allow me to paint a picture for you, no longer are you the face of this company, all that once followed you out of a state of fear, this no longer seems to be an issue — and do you know why this has become the case? Well it’s simple really, you refuse to take into account who could be a threat to you, and instead only focus your immediate attention on who you might have a past with. Well allow me to aid you in an alternate way of thinking, you might believe that I’m not worth a second thought, but come Clash of The Titans, you’ll remember this very moment. Remember my name when it matters, because eventually it’ll be too late, and just like all of the rest — you’ll learn the hard way.

At no point will I ever forget to mention your name, and it seems as if the same goes for you, doesn’t it? All these attempts to pursue a violent approach, it’s only led to you pretending that we’re on equal footing, that for some reason, the thought of us being similar has crossed your mind. I’ve never claimed to be a superior athlete when compared to you, and I’m aware of the sacrifices you’ve made over the years to earn your keep within this industry — but don’t compare the two of us. The hunger in my eyes, the will to survive that you see coursing through my veins isn’t an illusion to your younger self calling back to you, but instead, brought on by my own sacrifices, the hurdles I’ve had to overcome in my own attempts to reach this moment — my passion is my own. This isn’t about my friends, nor my family, the progression that I’ve been chasing for so long only comes by myself.

That being said, your consistent attempts to compare me to those you’ve failed before, whether it be yourself or Theodor Pavel, isn't worth it. I do appreciate the compliments I’ve received from you in recent times, but if I allowed my emotions to take over my own thinking — then I simply wouldn’t stand a chance, and that isn’t an option, not at this stage in my career. Allowing you to be selfish isn’t a choice that I can make, as it’s your own at the end of the day, but it’s certainly one that I heavily encourage — and why wouldn’t it be? You’ve paved the road to reach this career-altering moment, but if you believe that I’m going to step to the side, and allow you to pass me by without any difficulty involved, then your praise truly means jackshit. At no point will I step aside for you, because whether you’re a fan of it or not, this “new generation” isn’t built off of waiting for our turn, no matter the amount of time we have to succeed, it doesn’t mean we have to wait. Be prepared to stare me directly into my eyes, because I’m certainly coming for you, and there’s no way around it. No matter the success I’ve acquired thus far, or the championship I currently have draped over my shoulder, the goal is always to be perceived as the very best — that’s never changed.

It’s quite clear that most of you still see me as the same individual who walked into this promotion over a year ago, which should only be perceived as ignorance.

In my own opinion, with full honesty required to march forward, your ignorance is the worst of them all, Raivo. Y’see, the fact that you don’t remember the pain you’ve caused, nor the emotional damage that you continue to hold over me is the entire issue — but it’s not one that will proceed to exist. For the longest period of time, I’ve repeatedly claimed to despise you as an individual, but it’s become clear this might translate to your ability to perform as a competitor, as well. If you can’t simply remember an event that changed the landscape of this promotion, nor the damage that you’ve attempted to cause in that timeframe — then why should you be trusted to lead the promotion in question? I’ll answer this question for you, the obvious conclusion is that you aren’t, the selfishness that you continue to embody is only going to keep you grounded, secluded in your own, little world. However, I think you’ve already figured that one out for yourself, every single time that you are in control of the tag team division, it’s all about the perspective of control, not the idea of aiding the division around you — and that’s obviously the entire issue. Nonetheless, I can’t relate.

The first thought I had, mere seconds after capturing the OWA Spartans Championshipfor the first time in my career, wasn't how it impacted me, because as we all know, there’s much more at stake than your own perception. Ensuring that it would be kept away from a toxic environment, a dreadful owner, and impacting the division in a positive manner from now on — that’s what entered my mind, those are the thoughts that were at the forefront of my brain at that time. So before you make another ignorant comment, such as this upcoming bout only being a smooth transition to even more gold, I’d advise you to remember this moment, and how it potentially made you feel. No matter the distinct differences between the two of us, or the respective divisions that we find ourselves representing as a whole — there’s one consistent issue with you. You’ll continue to look past me, simply due to when I happened to step into the door, while I’m determined to stand toe-to-toe to the veterans who deem me unfit to be in this spot in the first place — I’ll make it clear that I’m ready, always have been, and have maintained that status.

The world has its eyes on this moment — but that’s not new to you DT, is it?

Y’see, I once praised you for proving to be a formidable competitor within this sport on multiple occasions, and while that might be overshadowed at times by your partner’s significant attempts at true ignorance — it should be highlighted more often. I’m not blind, nor have ever claimed to be, this upcoming bout means more to you than anything that has come your way before — and I can’t blame you, not one bit. You once walked into Sunday Night Kingdom with the OWA Outlaw Championship draped over your shoulder, week-by-week, continuously improving your game, progressing like no other could imagine, and that’s because you hold a certain aura — one that is filled with care for this industry. So do me a favor, let’s not pretend that you’re above where I’m currently standing, or that in preparing to potentially share the squared circle once more, you’ve deemed me unworthy. We can pretend all we want, we’ve gone down this road once before, and I’m sure you remember that the conclusion wasn’t one that you deemed fit, either — but it still occurred.

And with this being said, I’m prepared to put you to rest once again, if the opportunity arises at Clash Of The Titans, if the choice is between saving my own dream and putting an end to yours – I will choose the former without a second thought, and that’s the reality of it all. From an early age, I was relentlessly taught to trust my own instincts, to understand how to understand that your gut should be your first choice – and that includes this moment. And at this point in time, it’s continuously pointing at the fact that you’re not unkillable, my victory over you won’t be perceived as a slight fluke among the masses, no matter how you depict this particular issue. You say that all of these individuals are in your path, and while that particular road may lead you to a more broad expansion — you better remember the obstacle that halted you in the first place, because if you don’t, history is doomed to repeat itself.

Do you hear that, Chad? You know exactly how I feel about you, and how I’ve always felt — and it seems as if you feel the exact same way. In the past two encounters that we’ve managed to find ourselves intertwined with one another, the result found a way to loop over, as I found victory at the expense of your own failure — and that must destroy you. For someone with a constant stick up their ass, with an abundance of confidence that can’t be replicated, defeat isn’t something that one can take lightly, not in your position at least. So that’s why I must ask — how are you going to blatantly lie and state that we couldn’t be further apart? While you might not like the message that I’m attempting to preach, that doesn’t mean that it’s any less truthful. However, the fact of the matter still remains the same, you’d rather steer clear from the truth, to repeatedly insult my appearance, simply due to the fact that I’ve claimed victory twice.

I can’t keep you from lying your tongue off, and I’m aware of the fact that you’re going to continue to do so — mainly because that’s who you are, and who you’ve become. Nonetheless, that doesn’t mean that I don’t think you’re full of shit, there’s no jealousy traveling through the air, there wasn’t a target on your back simply by accident, you asked for it for months — and you’re completely aware of this. You stood within this squared circle, refusing to be a proper champion for months, and didn’t expect this story to come to a conclusion at the end of the day — and you’re furious at me because of it. For me, this isn’t simply about a championship, this has become personal, and you’ve continued to make the root cause of our issues stem from your own inner rage, but I welcome it. You’re the embodiment of scum, and once we meet inside of that ring once more, maybe you’ll finally learn that this isn’t on me, your failure isn’t because of some jealousy lying within — it’s because this clouded your judgment, and it’s going to happen for a third time.

Don’t blame me for your own transgressions, it’s time for you to learn. It’s time for you all to learn, I’m not weak, not a naive child no more, I won’t rest till I prove that I’m the fuckin’ best in the world. That’s all I’ve attempted to accomplish, and that continues here, no matter the opposition.

Alyssa Grace, 'Don' Hendrix, Remington Ivory Prescott, DT The Ruler, Felix Hartley and Chad Ecclestone have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos June 5th 2023, 2:08 pm by **Chad Ecclestone**

SEASON FIVE - EPISODE TWELVE POINT TWO
CHADMAN RETURNS

In one of the numerous interrogation rooms within the Omega City Police Department headquarters, the heroic Chadman is hard at work extracting information from one of the misfits in police custody. Namely, the maverick and honorary minority Jason Long (Brendan Fraser), who is in the process of being slammed around the room by the caped crusader. With a furious shout, Chadman grabs his victim around the throat and slams him against the brick wall.

“WHERE IS HE?!?!” he growls angrily, as Jason coughs and sputters through a constricted windpipe.

“Ha, ha, ha… why should… I… tell you… anything?”

Realizing that he has nothing he can threaten the former OWAC holder with, Chadman decides to try a different strategy. He shoves Jason back into the chair, and then reaches for his utility belt, withdrawing a fifth of Bushmills whiskey and slamming it on the table in front of the prisoner.

“What the fuck is this? Protestant whiskey? Piss off, cunt, I’m Catholic. Ooh, aah, up the Ra!”

“God damn terrorists,” grumbles Chadman, tossing the bottle of Bushmills over his shoulder and pulling out another bottle from a pouch on his suit: this time, it’s Jamiesons.

“That’s more like it!”

There’s a timelapse, as the scene cuts ahead several minutes, showing both men sitting on either end of the metal table as they pass the open bottle back and forth. They’re both visibly shitfaced, swerving hard even while seated and slurring their words as they banter pleasantly back and forth.

“You remember that Tarah bitch? Yeah, I fucked her,” brags Jason as he takes a big gulp of liquor, sliding the bottle across the table towards Chadman afterwards.

“Huh… weird flex, but okay,” mumbles Chadman, not knowing what else to say about this bizarre revelation, “Look, this has been chill, but I don’t have all day.”

“Ah, yeah, you’re looking for Stark, right? No clue, mate. Sorry.”

“...you’re fucking kidding me. Why didn’t you say that earlier?”

“I just wanted to waste your time a little bit. Sorry, pal, gets boring here in Omega City jail.”

Chadman peers angrily across the table at Jason, before sweeping the bottle off the table. It hits the floor and shatters, much to the Irishman’s dismay.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

“First thing’s first, Jason. Let me give you my formal thanks for taking Michael Bishop out of the game for a minute. Now that he’s injured so badly that he can’t make the Clash of Titans, I can freely admit that I was a bit shook about the possibility of stepping into the ring with him. I mean, you only have to look at his jittery eyes and trembling hands to tell that the man is suffering some serious brain damage after so many years spent taking shots to the skull. Who the hell in their right mind would want to face that crazy motherfucker? I’ve got a successful career outside of pro wrestling, not to mention a loving wife to provide for, so trust me when I tell you that I’m breathing a sigh of relief now that I won’t have to worry about facing a psycho like him!

Now, I think you owe me some thanks, too, if we’re being real with each other here. I mean, I did make you look so great in our match for the Spartans Championship that management thought you were actually ready to make the jump up to the main event scene. Common Chad W, to be honest, because I’m so talented, so capable, such a once-in-a-lifetime performer, that anyone who steps into that ring with me is elevated simply by sharing the canvas with a man like me.

Okay, so maybe you didn’t make the most of the opportunities handed to you on a silver platter after I beat your ass and took your title, but that’s not really my fault, is it? You had every chance to cement yourself as one of the all-time Omega Wrestling Alliance greats, to get your name scrawled in the history books of this sport as a true legend… and just like you whiskey-swilling Irish fucks have always done since the dawn of time, you found a way to drop the ball. Or maybe fumbling the potato would be a more fitting metaphor in this case.

That’s all you are, Jason, and all you’ll ever be: a habitual, perpetual bag-fumbler. That’s the legacy you’ll be leaving when some freak injury or botched flip takes you out of the game forever. And you know what? It’s what you deserve.

Regardless, let’s not get caught up on such meaningless details. The point is, your OWAC reign ended up being one of the most disappointing in the company’s history, and that’s saying something considering some of the absolute bums who’ve held that belt in the past. Probably not the legacy you were hoping to leave when you finally retire a broken, beaten man, but you can’t always get what you want, as the Stones were so fond of saying.

I guess this is the land of a thousand second chances though, because after a dismal run as top dog on Kingdom and a total failure to perform in the Great War – which ended in yet another Omega Wrestling death that lasted no more than a few weeks, I might add – you’re back to try and force your way into the title picture once again. I don’t know what you have on Scotty ‘Too Hotty’ Oasis that has him bending over backwards to accommodate you, but I bet it’s something real juicy. Maybe some hidden camera footage of you two in a dilapidated motel somewhere? Or do you have all the receipts for the human growth hormones and horse steroids he’s purchased and injected into his body over the years? Perhaps you know where the bodies of Wrestleworld’s management are buried?

I guess it doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’re back, and you’re in the Clash. No, you know what? That doesn’t matter, either. Because in the end, you’re going to crack under the pressure. Just like every other goofy fuck from the Emerald Isle who tried to put down the bottle for more than an hour or two, you’re destined to fail here. And the sad thing is, it’s not that you don’t have the talent needed to succeed, because you might be one of the greatest wrestlers in the world in terms of raw potential. Hell, I should know, I’ve got a real eye for talent.

It’s a matter of harnessing that potential, though. Of performing when the heat is on. Of coming through when it really matters. And that’s where you just don’t have what it takes, boyo, because if recent history is any indication, you’re going to fold quicker than a freshly-laundered shirt from Arata Asakura’s ‘No Ticke-–’

Crap, I already used that joke earlier, didn’t I? Look, nevermind, just take a bit of advice for once in your life, okay buddy? Take the night off! Book yourself a nice hotel room in Baltimore, grab a 40 of malt liquor from the wine store and a dimebag from the corner boys, and just chill in front of the TV with your feet up while you watch a real man sweep up the trash in that ring. It’s me, by the way. I’m that man. Just in case there was any confusion, I know you people aren’t exactly the sharpest knives in the drawers, but I guess we can chalk that up to all the booze and malnutrition. Let me guess, it’s Britain’s fault, right? How predictable…”

In a traditional Japanese dojo, a fight worthy of a Shaw Brothers film is taking place, with Chadman on the defensive against a combined assault from Tyler Kulina (Jake Paul) and Tanaguchi Sena (Tony Jaa). The battle carries on for minutes before the Dojo Bros land a double front kick to Chadman’s chest, knocking him backwards and forcing him to take a knee.

“Now, Chadman, it’s time we finish you…” begins Sena, striking a dramatic pose

“With our ultimate technique…” finishes Kulina, mirroring his partner’s motions.

“FU-SION-DAN–” they say in unison, about to touch hands before Chadman takes advantage of their posturing to lunge forward and disable them both with a pair of low blows.

As they moan in pain on the dojo’s wooden floor, the hero takes a moment to catch his breath, gasping as he looks down at the two, “What the fuck, guys! I just came to talk, this isn’t a Kung Fu flick where you’ve got to fight everyone that walks into the god damn dojo!”

With one last sigh, Chadman makes his exit. The camera lingers inside the dojo for a moment longer, as Emmanuelle (Lucy Liu) comes stumbling out from behind a paper screen with slippers and a bathrobe on, her hair in curlers, a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and a lit cigarette in the other. She almost trips over the collapsed body of Sena, nearly dropping her cup as she stares at the aftermath of the battle in confusion.

“What da haaiiiiiiil?” exclaims Emmy, “I can’t even leave you idiots alone for a minute, can I? First they don’t book me in the Clash, and now I’ve got to deal with your bullshit? Get up and give me five hundred pull-ups! NOW!”

“Well, I guess I should take a moment to touch on everyone’s favorite Cobra Kai rejects, the Dojo Boys. As much as I’d love to tear you two down and make you feel like shit, there’s a small part of me that feels a little bit bad for both of you. I mean, you’ve both been taken for one hell of a ride by your so-called ‘trainer’ Emmanuelle. From where I’m sitting, it looks like she’s just been using you two as punching bags to fulfill her own personal dommy mommy fantasies. Considering the age gap, it’s a wonder the jobless losers on Twitter haven’t gone after her yet.

But that’s neither here nor there. I’m not trying to judge your weird BDSM relationship masquerading as a training regiment. Hell, it’s 2023! Let your freak flag fly, I say! Whatever gets you off, as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone else, what’s the harm?

Therein lies the problem, though… because you three weren’t content in playing out your weird physical abuse roleplay in the privacy of your dojo. No, your lust for power drove you to take drastic measures. Desperate times, I suppose, and it makes sense considering all your attempts to prove your worth up to this point have bombed harder than a Disney live action remake. Since you couldn’t go Ultra Instinct through exercise, conditioning and meditation like an honest, hard-working shonen protagonist, you had to resort to enlisting the help of that weird Edward dude to pump you full of magic semen. All in the vain hope that it might be precisely the boost you two need to actually win a match.

And now, with his demonic jism coursing through your veins, you finally have a chance of rising above the level of OWA’s Yamcha and Krillin. How this shit doesn’t get you banned for performance enhancing drugs is just further evidence of what I’ve been saying all along: that the idea of fair competition in Scott Oasis’ little sideshow act here is just an illusion. Or maybe there’s some fineprint that offers a loophole for supernatural steroids as opposed to the genuine article. Who knows? I’m certainly not about to read the Omega Wrestling Alliance Health & Wellness Policy in full, I’m far too busy for that!

Anyway, my point is this: real life isn’t one of your Japanese anime, okay? This isn’t Naruto, the power of friendship doesn’t mean shit here. You clowns aren’t going to somehow make it to the final two, raise each other’s arms, and demand Oasis come down to the ring and tear the OWAC in half with his bare hands so you can share it. And similarly, the plucky young upstarts with the newly discovered powers aren’t destined to conquer evil and save their village in the final episode. That’s just something Japan made up to make children and weebs feel better about their pathetic lives, so you can both go right ahead and fuck off to Olympus with that lame shit. Please, go.”

The film continues, another stop on Chadman’s quest to find the villainous champion Stark: this time, a dingy basement somewhere in Omega City’s skid row. Carefully sneaking down the stairs, the heroic vigilante finally reaches the lower level, where he has reason to believe he might find information about Stark’s whereabouts. But what he sees shocks and horrifies him. Grappling inside a ring of old mattresses are MYOJIN (Ezra Miller) and Arthur Wakefield (Harrison ‘Aitch’ Armstrong). They’re wearing nothing but the skimpy loincloths, both men heavily oiled, and they’re so focused they don’t notice the new arrival. After an awkward pause, Chadman clears his throat loud enough to be heard above the slapping of meat on meat and grunting.

“Oi! What the hell are you staring at, mate?” shouts Arthur, offended by the intrusion.

“Nothing! It’s just… doesn’t this all seem a bit… you know?”

“A bit what, huh? What the fuck is your problem?” snaps MYOJIN, cattily.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” protests Chadman, holding his hands out to calm the whole situation before it spirals out of control and ends in another social media campaign against him, “Not that there’s anything wrong with that!” These words seem to placate MYOJIN, allowing Chadman to carry on with the business that brought him to this stinky underground fight club. “So, uh… not that I don’t love the ambience here, and I totally respect your life choices and, hey, I couldn’t be happier to see two homies indulging in a bit of passionate, lubricated grappling, but in case you’ve been too busy feeling each other up to notice, the dastardly Stark has threatened to destroy Omega City. Any idea where I can find him?”

“That bloody prick?” says Arthur, nodding, “Yeah, I know where to find that bastard. But if you want the info, you’ll need to beat me in a two hour ironman match. No shirts, no shoes, no pants. Submissions and nipple twisting only. Maybe a bit of heavy petting, if you’re feeling saucy.”

The criteria for getting the required information from this moist duo takes Chadman aback. His eyes dart back and forth as he begins to back up towards the staircase leading up and out of this entire bizarre situation.

“That’s… that’s alright, bro. Im'a just head out, okay? No hard feelings, and I wish you both the best in your relationsh–” he says placatingly, before suddenly turning tail and fleeing up the stairs, leaving the two to continue their ‘training’.

Back outside in the alleyway, Chadman prepares to take off towards his next destination. Until he almost trips over the legs of a shadowy figure sitting on the piss-stained cobblestone ground. Shining a beam of light on the individual, Chadman quickly recognizes him as Noah Krieger (Keanu Reeves), a man who has clearly seen better days. He’s filthy, unshaven and unwashed with literal stink lines CGI’d around him, drinking from a bottle of mouthwash. Beside him, rusted and smeared with what appears to be feces, is the Spartans Championship, now fallen from grace and reduced to the level of tertiary indie title in the hands of this lesser talent.

“Oh, hey Krieger,” says Chadman, hitting his nemesis with the double finger guns before winking and grinning, “Sorry for your troubles, my guy. And also, fuck you.”

With that, he takes off into the night, leaving the drunk and delirious Spartans champion to continue chugging Listerine until he succumbs to the sweet oblivion of unconsciousness.

“Look, Noah, you little piece of…

…I told myself I wasn’t going to lose my temper here. I’ve got to give you your props, not many people have managed to get under my skin. I mean, really under there, like an itch so bad I can’t get rid of it no matter how much I scratch. You’re in the elite company of other GOAT douchebags like Tom Cruise, the punk whose reckless botching ended up causing the death of my first wife, and that asshole cop who keeps pulling me over when I’m cruising in the Hills.

Fuck him especially.

I don’t know exactly what this obsession you have with me is, but it’s got to stop. You’re worse than that Dick Slaughter goon, at least I managed to make a few million bucks off that whole Dick Milk thing. Since we’re on the subject, though, I think that raises an interesting point. One single dairy-based assault on me and my wife kicked off a merchandising empire, while you routinely fail to draw a single, meager dime despite all your effort.

We couldn’t be further apart, is my general point. And in case you can’t put two and two together, that makes you the opposite of everything I am, everything I stand for. I’m entertaining enough to keep late-stage cancer patients clinging to life in the hopes of seeing my next match, you put people on methamphetamines to sleep. I’m a sexual icon married to one of the hottest pieces of tittymeat the good lord has ever blessed this earth with, you’re a greasy drunk who gets no bitches. I’m always dressed in the finest clothes, and you look like you sleep in the dumpster behind a 7-11. I could go on, but why should I? Anyone who doesn’t have their head stuck up their ass can see the differences between us.

Wait, is that it? Have you been following me around, trying to stick your nose in the business of a truly great man and ruin his day, just because you’re jealous of me? Could it be so simple? I mean, that tracks. Couldn’t really blame you myself, considering the gulf in wealth, lifestyle, and mainstream appeal that lies between us. But you know who I feel sorry for? It’s not you, it’s not me, it’s the fans. Imagine being in the middle of the performance of a lifetime from a real superstar like me… a man who was so close to shattering that Bud Light-swilling coal miner Jeff X’s record as Spartans champion… a man who redefined what it meant to be a champion, and restored that title’s prestige… only to have that all stolen away by the most boring man who’s ever laced up a pair of boots.

They go from Chad Ecclestone to Noah Krieger. Grim. Hideous. Really, let’s call it what it is: the death of that belt’s esteem and respectability. In the span of weeks the Spartans Championship has gone from the company’s top ratings draw, right back down into the mud that I lifted it from… after I pinned Jason Long as clean as a whistle, by the way. Oh, what’s that, you didn’t manage to beat him, did you? Damn, that’s crazy.

All that work I did to push the Spartans Championship to unseen heights, and you have to come along and steal it from me like the piece of shit alcoholic scumbag you are. And now look at that belt. Might as well be made out of tin for all the value it has now. You know, Noah, for all your talk of respecting the sanctity of the sport, it really only seems like you care about pro wrestling when everything goes your way. After that loss to Nate Cage, I think we were all hoping you’d piss off back to Chicago with your head hung low in shame. I know I was praying to be rid of you, you lame fuck. But no, you’ve really got nothing else to fall back on, do you? You need this, because you’ve got nothing else to fall back on. Should’ve paid attention in school, dumbass. Maybe you could’ve done something worthwhile with your life, instead of bringing down everyone with your terrible speeches, ugly mug, and narcoleptic ring-work.

As for the other two, MYOJIN and Arthur… what the hell did you guys see in some half-retarded
kid from Illinois in the first place? Were you that hard up for a third man? What, was literally every other human being on the face of the earth too busy to come in for an interview that day? I’m not even being hyperbolic when I say that I’d go graverobbing to do a whole Weekend At Bernie’s thing before I settled for Krieger.

I guess it makes sense, though. A man like him fits into a group like CATCH Hound, considering the entire organization seems to be a monument to that sort of boring, white bread, snooze-inducing wrestling that Noah is such a big fan of. You lamers are the antithesis of everything I stand for. More than that, you’re emblematic of the biggest problem in the industry right now, aside from a shockingly high rate of demonic possession among its athletes: this complete refusal to put on a show that’s actually worth watching. These people are paying good money to see… well, obviously not you guys, but still, the least you could do is try to entertain the few people in the crowd who don’t use your matches as piss breaks.

It’s just a shame, because you two have at least a bit of what makes a star, if you abandoned the ‘golly gee we sure do love to wrestle’ gimmick and spiced it up a bit. Arthur, you’re a great shit talker, and with the proper guidance and some language classes to teach you proper American english instead of whatever the hell it is you currently speak, you could be somebody in this business. MYOJIN, you’re more stylish than any of the other bums in this company rocking their JCPenney fits… or in Allesandro Devastation’s case, the discount suit rack at Value Village. Hell, I’d say there’s no reason for you to even be wrestling. What’s your motivation, anyway? As far as I know you don’t have a semi-tragic backstory like I do with the whole dead wife thing, so why not just quit and go be a fashion icon in Korea? I’ve got to assume the working conditions are a hell of a lot better.

Oh, and now that I’ve said something nice about you, do me a favor and call off all your psychotic stans who keep attacking me on Twitter. So maybe I made a single offensive joke, once in my entire life. Sue me. Just consider this an apology, and let’s all move on from this unfortunate debacle.

Now that I’ve gotten through my next batch of opponents, let me take a moment to say something a bit more personal. I know I’ve spoken at length about the tragedy that drove me into this industry, seeking to debase and ultimately destroy it… but you know what? At the end of the day, I put the audience first, and I know they’ve come to look to me as the one, singular bright spot amidst the otherwise dismal show that Oasis trots out for them week in and week out.

So maybe I can safely put aside my quest for vengeance for now. I know Chastity didn’t even like her sister that much, so she won’t be bitching in my ear about it anyway. Maybe I take some much-needed Chad time, to treat myself to a nice new, gold-plated accessory I can wear around my waist at my next red carpet premiere. Let’s be real, after the miracle transformation I pulled by elevating the Spartans belt to previously unimagined heights, just imagine what I could do with the OWAC, or Cracker Championship, or whatever they’re calling it these days.

Face it, punks, I’m the best man… no, the only man for the job. And that’s the biz, baby.”

TO BE CONTINUED.

Alyssa Grace, Mami's Favorite Chew Toy, 'Don' Hendrix, Remington Ivory Prescott, DT The Ruler, Felix Hartley, Noah Krieger and Brody have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Realization. June 5th 2023, 1:34 am by **Remington Ivory Prescott**

Immortality.

It's a concept that so few of us get to actually experience in this blip of existence that is referred to as "life". It's a concept that is intertwined with others like Fate, Destiny and the almost all encompassing Legacy. Most people will only get the opportunity to achieve their Immortal status by ensuring their Legacy. Most people do not get the opportunity to live out their grandiose existence across the world's stage. Most people will barely even be remembered.

I am not most people.

My name is Remington Ivory Prescott. RIP. Your Current, Reigning and Final Immortal Heavyweight Champion.

Now, as I'm sure you all would very much like to hear what I have to say about my opponent for this year's Clash of the Titans but I'd like to take this opportunity to talk about someone so much more important.

Me.

Since my arrival to the Omega Wrestling Alliance as one of their most valuable and prospective hires in recent memory, it has been my obligated privilege to be the sole person carrying the Olympus brand. As the old guard were put out to pasture like a pack of Old Yellers that were dripping with rabies, I did what nobody else in that locker room would or could do.

I stepped up.

Not once did I falter in my goal to elevate Olympus to being the most recognizable and beloved brand in the history of professional wrestling and sports entertainment. I had a chokehold on the entire industry simply by being an annoying nuisance and opportunist. I managed to get under the skin of the entire OWA and I didn't even have to lift a finger to do so. I even made Elijah Hampton fight the entire Olympus roster just to fail at his chance to keep me from becoming one of the top stars in this company.

That's how good I was at being an insufferable prick.

I was surrounded by Yes Women and Monster Trucks and I would do anything and everything in everyone else's power to keep myself from having to actually, well, do anything. My entire life I was given anything I wanted. I didn't have to work for anything. People like Hampton or Michaels will tell you that made me soft. I believe otherwise.

I think those things made me lazy.

Now, though, I've come to realize that sometimes there is no other option. Sometimes you have to do things yourself. You have to become the thing you don't want to be in order to be what you deserve to be. When I carved up Elijah Hampton like Big Momma at the Johnson Family Reunion's watermelon table, I proved that I would no longer let anything stand in my way.

I didn't need to get my hands dirty. I needed to get them bloody.

And now that I've had the chance to put hold someone else's life in my hands. To choose whether they live or die by my own hand? I don't think I'll ever have a taste for anything else.

This is only the beginning.

With that being said, there are still a handful of elephants in the room that I'd like to take this opportunity to address. The first being that goblin eared Trump tanned little prick named Elijah Hampton. I hope you realize how lucky you are to still be alive, Elijah. You have so much to stay for a man that's no longer the Immortal Heavyweight Champion. You certainly have a flair for the dramatic, I can tell you that. And while I'm sure that you have it all set in your heart that our time together is far from over, I want you to remember that the reason you're even still here to be a pain in the ass of Olympus is because I allowed it to happen. I chose to carve instead of kill. I chose to filet instead of slay. I made the decision to leave you breathing and bleeding instead of six feet beneath our feet where you belong.

All this hostility and animosity when a simple Thank You Card would be appreciated.

Now, I'm quite sure you would like to climb the ladder up to the top of Mount Olympus where I am currently residing to try and take what will never be yours again. And maybe sometime in 2025 I'll allow that to happen for a lark but for right now you should probably focus on climbing into the ring with Tyler Wolfe's Worst Quality and putting on a halfway decent match. I don't have faith that you'll accomplish this task but you can lead a whore to an oasis but you can't make her think, right?

The biggest elephant in the room might just be the Tres Comas Club. I know you uneducated miscreants are dying to know exactly what the Tres Comas Club is up to. Since the complete and utter takeover of Olympus, you idiots have been on pins and needles and scrambling for a morsel of anything you can get your hands on. I know this to be true because not long ago I was in those same shoes. Granted, mine were eons more expensive but you understand my dilemma. I was as lost and confused as Noah Reigner trying to figure out why Tyler’s a bigger draw than he is.

Then it all became clear. As a future legend in this company, this business, this industry? I’ve been handpicked and selected to represent the Tres Comas Club in That Very Ring. As the Immortal Heavyweight Champion. And while the celebration of my victory is over, I can assure each and every one of you that my reign will be long, prosperous and incredibly violent.

And it starts at Clash of the Titans. When I step into that ring and stand face to face with the most protected underachiever possibly in the entire history of this industry that we all call home…

Nobi.

"The White Knight" is what you call this man? Really? This is the man that you think is going to dethrone me at Clash of the Titans? This John Blade's Third Cousin Twice Removed ass man is the one that some of you have put up on a pedestal for you to cheer and chant his name... instead of the name of your current and reigning Immortal Heavyweight Champion?

You're all nothing but ignorant sheep that must not have paid attention to what I did to Elijah Hampton. That man is annoyingly talented, even I have to admit. And he was no match for the untapped potential of Remington Ivory Prescott. Untapped potential that has since been tapped and unleashed in a furious rage that can barely be contained within the five figure suits that I will continue to wear. Potential that has been realized and accepted and will soon become the reckoning for all those that stand in opposition to myself or the Tres Comas Club.

Consider yourselves warned. This will be your final opportunity to get on board or find yourselves unable to survive what is still to come.

Now, the fact of the matter is that while Nobi may consider himself to be a worthy opponent. Interrupting my glorious celebration and ruining a moment that I worked incredibly hard to achieve was not the best way to do this. I've begrudgingly decided to throw this man a bone and give him the only shot at greatness that he will ever really have. There's no doubt in my mind that Nobi will go down as one of the most consistent performers to ever perform in the squared circle but some of you are just not cut out for the big leagues. Nobi? Pal? That's you.

If I recall correctly, you've been around these parts longer than a Rebecca Filth STD. You've been a staple in the Omega Wrestling Alliance certainly since my arrival. But you've also been around the industry's block a few times. Now, I could spend a nice chunk of time listing off all your achievements in other promotions and systematically discredit them and you but that'd be counterproductive. Not to mention giving airtime to a host of promotions that, quite frankly, pale in comparison to what we're doing here in OWA. To what the Tres Comas Club is doing on Olympus. If I wanted to relive the past, I'd just say anything at all to Ellie Quinn and stand back.

No. That's not how I operate. I don't need to know where you've been or what you've done, Nobi. I don't care. I'm not worried about any one of your accomplishments because your accomplishments mean nil when compared to what I accomplished at OWA5 when I walked away with the Immortal Heavyweight Championship.

Now, what you may not realize yet, Nobi, is that the man that decimated Elijah Hampton and took the title away from him is not the same man that you're going to face at Clash of the Titans. That man was a different breed. A cowardly breed. A man that stood behind anything and everything he could find in order to protect himself. That was a man that cared more about being in the spotlight than actual results. I fully admit that before OWA5, before my eyes were opened to what my future in this company will be, I was something else. I needed an entire stable of people around me to garner the attention, adulation and affirmation that I lacked as a child. I don't have a sob story to tell. Not one that makes everything clear. I was an incredibly wealthy and spoiled child that got everything I asked for. So it made sense that when I stepped into the world of Professional Wrestling and Sports Entertainment that I would continue to be that same person.

Now I've crossed over to the other side. Now I've realized the error of my ways. I've come to understand the mistakes that I've made and I can tell you right now, with absolute certainty, that I will not be making anymore. As recent actions have made very clear, there's nothing left but me. The true Remington Ivory Prescott. The Real RIP that I've been running from this entire time. The sick bastard that will decimate anything and everything that stands in my way, carve my initials into them and do it all with a song in my heart and a smile on my face.

I don't have remorse. I don't have regrets. The only thing that I have is a thirst for the blood of my enemies. Unfortunately for you, Nobi, Clash of the Titans is where I will have to introduce the Omega Wrestling Alliance to my true self. I will have no choice but to carve out a new path and bathe the city of Baltimore in your blood. I have every intention of walking out of Clash of the Titans still the Immortal Heavyweight Champion, Nobi. I want you to hear me and understand me when I say that I will do anything and everything inhumanly possible to assure my victory.

I will kill you.

Nobi, pay attention. This is not hyperbole. This is not me talking out of my ass like I'm auditioning for a Seventh Ward membership. I am being one hundred percent serious when I say that you should change your mind about getting into that ring and standing across from me as a threat to my Immortality. I will not allow you to threaten the sanctity of my Reign. You will be excommunicated from this life and the next if you choose to continue down this path.

I can and will be fully responsible for the absolute viciousness that will be enacted upon you when that bell rings. I will bring your long and storied career to a bitter and brutal end. I will destroy the very memory of you and ruin whatever legacy you originally hoped to create for yourself. And afterward, I will take Prescott Force One and fly myself and my Immortal Heavyweight Championship to anywhere on Prescott's Green Earth just because I fucking can.

This is not a job to me. This is no longer a hobby I'm doing just because I'm rich and bored. This barely registers as sports or entertainment anymore to me. Your actions last Olympus are going to have consequences that I am quite sure that you are not prepared for. And as much as I would love to let bygones be bygones and give you an opportunity to reevaluate your decision to challenge me for my very soul, this Immortal Heavyweight Championship, I feel obligated to make an example out of you.

When I leave your broken body in the middle of that ring, it will be the modern equivalent to putting your head on a pike so that the rest of the roster knows exactly what I'm willing to do to a man for simply having the gall to look me dead in my soulless eyes and threaten my future as the Ace of this entire fucking organization.

I do not envy the position you're in, Nobi. If I were a better man, I'd apologize for what you're about to go through. As it is? I'm actually rather hoping you don't heed my advice. I'm actually looking forward to dismantling your entire existence and proving to the entire OWA Universe that maybe I wasn't the one hiding behind my entourage, my lawyers, my resources, my attitude after all.

Maybe I was just trying to protect the world from me.

Huh. Ah well.

R.I.P.

Alyssa Grace, Rebecca Filth, 'Don' Hendrix, DT The Ruler, Felix Hartley, Chad Ecclestone and Brody have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos June 4th 2023, 4:40 pm by **JosieGreyEsq**

Cypher…

C.O.T.

Ulvensdatter…

Mm…ye…

Yung Cyclops…aka…the Josie Extreme Takeover…

Oui…Let’s Git it.

I hate yall.
I’d do anything to replace yall.
Shout out the cult mobs
A Frontliner, boah, till I’m unemployah with a desk job.
And giving losses.
I kick ass and then kick knowledge,
I’m WAY more polished than 99% of the wrestlers
YOU thought had graduated…
I’m the master that masturbated on your favorite Dub C’s
Until the Thotyssey wanted me assassinated.
April, You either corny or an opportunist…
They let you eat, now go back and steal crackers from communion
What are ya doing? I’m about to crack the Diantha code.
Oui, and nothing been the same since I got the ulvs
Send Cassie Wu back to catering in her pajama clothes.
Ha Ha, Rin, Jokes on you!
HIGH FIVE!
I’m bulletproof!
Your shots will never penetrate!
Pin the tail on the donkey, Ruri, you BEEN a fake.
I got my THUMB on wrestling.
And my FOOT in the back of your ASS.
Frontline gets THE LAST LAUGH.
I serve bitches like Master Geoffrey, hop on the curb
Turn La Haine into a verb, if ya let me, you KNOW im a killer
I’m in their head, they KNOW im a killer!
The French Toast Cosa Nostra, under oath til it’s over
You cunts over-owe.
So what the fuck? I fuck these bitches up, I fuck Marie up, like what the fuck, Felix Hartley sucks and fucks, I fuckin duck you fuck-bitches like when I want
You blow your guts, acting fucking nuts, talking irrational
Pop you, then pop an adderall, know the drill like lateral, bitch
I’m more Michael Bishop than Church Bishop
Pacing back and forth, racing my mind on them crazy Asians
I got blood on my hands cooking this shit up.
I feel like yall still be hating
Quite frankly, your bitch face should thank me for slapping it
Turn thot bitches into actresses, what a magic trick
Accidents never happen when Josie’s involved
Immaculate tactics, so follow me, if you need me, just call on me
Saying “Hooooold up. Wait a minute!
“Your fed aint SHIT unless it got Josie in it!”
You bitches aint shit, no room left up on my clit
Unless you look like Angelina, leave my mark inbetween ya
Mwah!
Wolllvesden been goood to me.
Little timid bitch cleaning Khan’s jewelry
Ego big as FUCK, now I got the balls to say it
Elbow deep, balling out till Tonomi’s sensei needs a replacement, yeah
I’m outchea, the French in yo mouthchea
investir dans vests of Vietnam vets when you’re out heah.
The OWA arena, spilling merlot,
fillin women, Like Virgo fucked the industry,
‘Member these Gwen Harpers gotcha shook
You’re scared to DEATH, you’re scared to look
In the mirror when JOSIE is near ya!

QUEEN. JOSIE.

(The lights come on in the room, revealing Josie’s Oakland apartment.)

JOSIE GREY
How was that?

MICHAEL BISHOP
…was that Kendrick Lamar?

JOSIE GREY
…no…

MICHAEL BISHOP
…you sure?

JOSIE GREY
…uh huh…

MICHAEL BISHOP
…

JOSIE GREY
…

MICHAEL BISHOP
I know because of Chris that that’s Kendrick Lamar.

JOSIE GREY
…

MICHAEL BISHOP
…Josie…are you out of ideas?

JOSIE GREY
…oui…

MICHAEL BISHOP
…you made me fly out here…to film you do that…when you have TRIPOD…RIGHT THERE?

(Bishop points to the tripod…Josie doesn’t even turn…)

JOSIE GREY
So…was it good?

MICHAEL BISHOP
…ugh…thank FUCK there’s an extension…

JOSIE GREY
EXACTLY, right?

Thaaaaaaank fuck…

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

Re: OWA Promos June 4th 2023, 4:31 pm by **grandcaster**

When he woke up, the first thing Tatsuo did was immediately place his head back against the pillows. Although days passed since he arrived back in his apartment in Kyoto, his head still throbbed with pain—a splendid combination of jetlag and a headbutt after getting planted into the mat—but by now, it was more of a minor annoyance than anything debilitating.

However, it was enough of an annoyance to justify staying in bed longer than usual. He was due for another overseas plane ride to America sooner than later and he wanted to enjoy the comfort of his own bed as long as he could.

Unfortunately for him, life had other plans. Right on cue, Mugi waltzed with all the confidence in the world and soon laid eyes on their sleeping owner; the feline wasted no time afterwards and soon pounced onto the bed and traversed across the covers until it had found the perfect spot to sit. This “perfect” spot was Tatsuo’s face, much to his irritation.

Alas, as soon as Tatsuo sat up, Mugi decided to use his face as a launchpad and jumped to the floor. The landing was perfect (as expected), not a hair was out of place (as expected), and he swore that it was smugly looking at him as he scowled (as expected). Mugi was lucky that he couldn’t stay mad at them for long.

“It’s not even that late, Mugi.” He complained as he rubbed his head. “Why are you waking me up?”

“You weren’t sleeping anyway.”

The bedroom door creaked as the individual stepped inside. Her gaze threatened to burn holes through him and Mugi, satisfied with their work, sauntered over to her and rested against her thigh. Tatsuo opened his mouth to say something and was then swiftly cut off by her holding up her phone. “Get dressed. We’re going out.”

“No.” He said rudely as he threw the covers back over his face. “I’ve been training and working out since I got back, Hiyori. I deserve one day where I can sleep in. I won my debut match in decisive fashion so I’m going to celebrate with sleep.”

Hiyori’s lips became a thin line as she lowered her phone. She then let out a frustrated sigh and turned her back to him, arms crossed. “Fine then. I thought I could be a good friend and tell you that you’re roasted over an open fire but maybe I was wrong and sleep is more important, o Honored One. I’ll be sure to just wait on the sidelines next time someone calls you a helpless lapdog. TWICE.”

That was enough to get him out of bed and then some. “Where to?”

HOURS LATER

When it came to picking out places to eat, Hiyori was far better than him. Kyoto was his hometown and he was shaped by it—if it wasn’t obvious—but his lifestyle hampered his ability to find good places to eat that weren't repetitive. So, fortunately for him, she has yet to make the decision to ditch him to the curb so he can enjoy her recommendations all he wants.

Today, the restaurant of choice was a small quiet café nestled within downtown Kyoto. The name eluded him but truthfully, he didn’t care about its name or the sickeningly sweet food she ordered. He cared more about what Hiyori told him back at his apartment so the moment they sat down at a table and he had her undivided attention, he immediately confronted her about it.

“Tell me everything.”

“You’re booked for OWA’s Clash of Titans PPV, right?” She said as she lifted up her phone again. “Two of your opponents released promos already. You should listen to them for yourself but they’re...pretty scathing.”

The phone was placed down in the middle of the table for him to grab and Hiyori had the wonderful pleasure of watching his expression darken in real time. She was one of his closest friends and there was no mistaking the rage burning in his eyes. When it finally ended, Tatsuo inhaled a deep breath, exhaled, and then said the first thing that immediately crossed his mind.

“I AM NOT a fence rider.”

Hiyori took her phone from his hands before it became collateral damage. “It’s because of your stance, Tatsu. Poet’s interpreting your neutrality as a declaration to be nothing more but a people pleaser.”

“Tch. Did he not hear a word I said to that Julius guy? Above heaven, under heaven, I alone am worthy of honor. I don’t need to be a people-pleaser. If people want me to be on their side, they please me. The neutrality is only because—”

“Gods answers the prayers of those who call them and gives them proper respect.” Hiyori said. “It’s only fair to use the same neutrality as an arahitogami. Also, I assume it's obvious that you’re not going to betray your tag partners here.”

“Painfully so.” He dryly commented as he took a sip of his drink. “Who are my tag partners anyway?”

“Ryo Sakazaki and Brody.” Hiyori raised an eyebrow. “...Do you know either of them?”

“Brody was in the match before my own last show. He fought Poet, pulled an upset victory on a fluke, and Poet basically nailed in the face after he fell for the handshake trick." He then frowned. "...Should I really be placing my trust in a gullible idiot?”

“Yes, because he’s your partner!” She reminded him. “You underestimate how much people can hate you. You should not be adding to your list of former partners who hate your guts while you’re in a new promotion. Especially since you underestimate how much people can despise you.”

“I heard you the first time.”

“You don't hear me enough. Anyway, what about Ryo? Saw him in action?”

“He did a run-in during the main event of the show. Long-standing member with a lot of prestige, I heard. He’s a part of the new faction that formed, World’s Finest.” Tatsuo then whistled. “Annnnnd...my opponents are a part of the faction that opposes them.”

Hiyori blinked a few times. She was like a deer caught in headlights. “So, day two of being in this promotion and you’re already involved in faction wars?” She pinched her nose and then looked at him as her voice became more stern. “Tatsuo, if you cause a situation like what happened in the last place you were in, I’ll—”

“I won’t so you can stop worrying.” He hissed, his voice cold. “I’m not the one who booked the match so I just have to roll with the punches. Besides, I’m staying neutral to this conflict because I have no desire to involve myself more than I need to. I’m not something you can call on willy-nilly like a pet.”

“And if either faction gets in your way?"

“Then I’ll crush them.”

“You—” Hiyori decided that it was not worth finishing that sentence. “Just don’t bite off more than you can chew. Make allies, not enemies. Your partners are reliable so rely on them. Now, let’s talk about your opponents. You three are facing Reginald Dampshaw III, Brandon Hendrix, and Poet.”

“Worthless. Insignificant. Mediocre. Spineless cowards who desecrate the battlefield with their playfighting.”

“Lovely opinions.”

Tatsuo laughed, his voice dripping with smugness. “Do you think they deserve anything more?”

“Considering that you need to make a promo, yes.” She continued. “More importantly, I want you to not underestimate them. The Tres Comas Club is serious about dominating Olympus and they don’t care how they do it. You’re strong, Tatsu, but if you go into that match without considering their strength or believe that they aren’t going to do something devious, you’ll fall flat on your face and they’ll keep you pinned under their heel. You’re the one who crushes demons, not the other way around.”

“You’re cute when you’re worried about me.” Tatsuo said with a smirk. “But I get it. I’ll keep an eye out but trust me, I’ll be sure to win the match so you can go to sleep knowing that your beloved not only wins his first PPV match but pins one of OWA’s top champions.”

“Eugh.” Hiyori said, making a face. “I don’t hate your guts yet and I’m willing to bear a plane ride to watch your match. Don’t test me.”

“Who knows, maybe you’ll think about signing with them. You’re known as Miss Freelancer around here, maybe you can—”

Hiyori shoved a forkful of cheesecake into his mouth. “Eat. You need to do a promo and we’re catching the first train that arrives at the station. They’ve already casted stones. You need to launch a boulder for your team.”

CLASH OF TITANS PROMO #1

(The camera focuses on the scene. The room was awash with golden regality and decorated with paper screens of natural environments. A true sight to behold. The audience room of a Japanese castle had a simple purpose: The gathering of audiences with their ruler. Now, seated in the throne seat of the ruler, was Tatsuo, legs crossed and dressed in his gear. Three kokeshi dolls were in front of him, each painted to resemble his opponents.)

“Rejoice, my dear audience, for I have answered your call. Normally, I would ignore the squabbles of those beneath me but alas...that isn’t possible this time. So angered you are that you attempt to breach the lines between the heavens and earth to insult me. As poor and misguided your words are, they have earned yourself an audience. Feel proud about the minor attention a ruler has given to deformities such as yourselves.”

“I spent some time thinking of what I should say to you three. Really, I did. It felt only right to respond to such bold words and ever bolder “poetry” but I often found myself at an impasse on what to say. I wondered why I struggled to think of something, why I could not respond immediately as I would to others. Then, I figured out why! No matter how many times I sat down to think of my verbal response, I knew that kicking all three of you and forcing you to bow your heads would get the point across better than any words can. After all, that’s all such blatant disrespect is worth: Punishment.”

(He then reached out to grab the first doll.)

“You want to know why I hold this title Honored One, Don? Because no one can match up to me. Above heaven and earth, only I am the one worthy of honor. I wouldn’t expect a hoodlum mafioso to understand a statement such as this, because the only honor you can even strive to achieve is tainted in corruption. Have some fucking shame, will you? I don’t have this title just because I came from Japan, I have it because I transcend above others. I am honored because I have received knowledge you can only think about obtaining. Who are you, a man who serves as a lapdog to someone else, to accuse me of being anything but the one who is superior to you? Prescott isn’t the only one who holds your collar. A dog who bites the hand of his owner is either disciplined or put down. And I’ll pull on your collar until you listen or you choke.”

(He clenched his fist and the doll instantly shattered into pieces. As the pieces fall to the floor, he then grabs the next doll.)

“Fence rider, people pleaser, are these all the words that you have for me, Poet? Because flowery language can’t hide stupidity and hypocrisy. I don’t need to follow bigger dogs. I don't degrade myself like you do. You mistake my neutrality for submissiveness, a true testament of how little you know. Do you understand how gods work, Poet? Outside of “purging evil”, gods are neutral. If two samurai prayed to the same god, then that god would bless both of them. Joining your side because the mood hits? Do you think that I’m that fickle? You haven’t bothered to lay out your offerings and you want ME to bless you with my help?”

(He grins but there’s no warmth to it. Only malice. Within his grip, the doll is already on the verge of breaking apart.)

“I heard what they said about you. You demand respect from others but what the hell have you done to earn it? You know how respect is earned in wrestling: Through fighting and winning. Not by cheating and not by begging. If you can’t go through one match without throwing a tantrum then I have no problem treating you as a child. Because behind your poems and attitude, you’re nothing but a pitiful vapid black hole, the true fence rider. You’re not worth my time or Brody’s. Die.”

(The doll breaks and its pieces fall to the floor once again. He then picks up the last one.)

“And finally, Reginald Dampshaw III. I’ve heard a lot of things about you from your tag partners. The way you’ve beaten down opponents until they’re concussed. Your ruthless aggression in efforts to retain your belt. And how you’re going to beat me into a pulp when we face off. That’s good, I’m actually amused. The blind confidence they have in you is outstanding and I always prefer opponents who will fight until the bitter end. That’s the true appeal of combat: Fighting until one completely tears themselves apart, until their soul is exposed to their opponent!”

(He begins throwing the doll up and down, effortlessly catching it as he casually lounges about.)

“You, Reginald, have a belt. You’re the only one walking into this match with one. I’m new now but I don’t plan on being on the bottom of the totem pole forever. You’re my priority target, the one who I’ll punish the most harshly. Because I’m not looking to just make you cry like Poet or Don...”

(He stops throwing and the doll falls to the ground. Standing up, Tatsuo then crushes the doll underneath his foot while grinning.)

“I’m looking to rip that belt right from your hands. You are an amanojaku who has gotten far too ahead of themselves. It’s my job as a divine avatar to utterly crush you. You will look at me as if I was the heavens themselves. After I beat you, you’ll be looking up anyway.”

(The three dolls are nothing more but pieces. He stands in the pile of debris, silently looking up at the ceiling, but then speaks.)

“Ryo Sakazaki, Brody. We’re aligned for this match and even if it isn’t for a belt, the stakes are important. You hate these guys as much as I do, right? They’re annoying, right? Then let’s work together. Our battlefield, this ring, is no place for bastards like them after all. If they want to dominate without being able to grasp the difference between us and them, then I say we put them out of a job. Sounds like a plan?”

(He turns to the camera. There’s a grin on his face but its not full of malice compared to earlier. )

“I may not be involved with the current factions but...I hate when people get in my way and deep down, you two also hate it. So then, at Clash, let’s go to war. I don’t mind playing the role of Uesugi Kenshin again if it means we can take our enemies' heads.”

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

Re: OWA Promos June 4th 2023, 4:20 pm by **Noah Reigner**

“The term ‘Dream Match’ has been used a few times recently. Aria Jaxon versus Rebecca Filth - the still fresh out of retirement Cloud Matsuda facing Allesandro Devastation and April Song, as well. Some will even call this upcoming match at Clash of the Titans a Dream Match. Two of the top stars in the history of this company - two stars that exude the most heart out of any other competitor to ever lace up the boots - two stars that have become the measuring stick for the Heavyweight division finally able to face off one on one. A dream match to some, maybe even to one of us - but to me, it’s a necessity. To me, it’s a challenge. A challenge for me to see if I still ‘have it’. A necessity to prove that I am still one of the -- no -- to prove that I still am the best. There was never any other match that could be made that would prove that. It always needed to be this one.”

“Noah Reigner versus Elijah Hampton.”

“I’m going to be completely transparent with you because that is how I’ve always been. At first, Elijah, I didn’t see it in you. When I rolled into OWA from Japan, I saw you as just another guy who was more than content floating around the middle of the card. Someone that didn’t really have that fight in him to become a top dog in the business. It kind of solidified it for me when you sided with the Dynasty. You became a lackey. Someone who stood in the shadow of Jacob Senn, someone who stood in the especially big shadow cast by Darkane. But even as that thought stuck in my head, that preconceived notion about you, I decided to keep an eye on you. Why would I bother keeping tabs on someone who I initially thought wasn’t worth it? Because you were eerily similar … to me.”

“Ya’see; almost a decade ago, I started my career and fell into the position you fell into. Being a lackey, the guy that was in the group just for exposure. I ran with Los Renegados in So-Cal - being made the fall guy for their shortcomings until I was beaten down and discarded. I hopped from team to team, like you did, and for the same reasons; relevancy. Because as much as I stepped up and proclaimed my greatness to any and everyone that would listen, I was never taken seriously. I was looked at as some big-mouthed rookie who would ultimately succumb to his own arrogance and his career would be finished. I went from the Firing Squad, to the Dogs of War, to the Black Jackals all because in my own head, I had my insecurities. I would have never admitted it then, and even now it’s a bit foreign to me, but as much as I said I was untouchable in that ring - I never truly believed it. The groups, the teams - they were there as a safety net. They were there for me to learn from, and learn I did. But as much as I learned, I was always just the low-end guy. The guy that’s regulated to tag team matches.”

“In EIW, it was always Noah Regner and Jack Tillman. In PPW it was always Noah Reigner and Jack Tillman. A couple of fly by night companies that didn’t last very long at all. It was Union Battleground where I began to carve a name, though. Noah Reigner and big Rumble Reyes - the Firing Squad of the Dogs of War. We were mainstays in the tag division, in fact - those are the only matches that we ever had. Rumble and I were the top dogs, but never ‘championship material’ due to nepotism. Don’t get me wrong, I love Rumble like he was my own brother - and I would happily go into war with him at my side any day of the week, but I wanted more than just regional and small-time independent so-called ‘success’. I wanted to be more than just a tag team guy. As you know, sooner or later - you need to go out on your own. There’s no way to test yourself until you’re standing on your own two feet. I may have had my coach behind me training me in the aspects of the game I was weak in, I may have had my manager there to support - but at the end of the day, it was just Noah Reigner when I stepped out of my comfort zone and branched off on my own.”

“First it was WWH. I know, it’s a taboo subject with some in OWA - hell, I didn’t quite enjoy my time there either. But, I signed onto a tournament they were running - and, round after round, I proved my worth. Round after round, I showcased my level of skill. Slowly but surely, that insecurity that I held in my head - began to dissipate. I went through that entire tournament, meeting my Dogs of War stablemate in the end - and won. The first ever Phoenix Cup winner, and ultimately named Rookie of the Year. As I said, the company wasn’t the best - and I walked away after that tournament. I did what I wanted to do, though. I proved to everyone - and more importantly - I proved to myself that I had the ability to go out on my own. But that was just a teaser. The real test came when I signed a contract in New Jersey.”

“If the tournament wasn’t enough to calm the inner insecurities, what would happen at the start of my EAW venture would. I went undefeated for ten matches. That’s unheard of. I defeated everyone that was put in front of me; other ‘rookies’, legends, men who I had no business being in the ring with. In the span of those ten matches, I became the Cash in the Vault winner - a match that everyone counted me out of. I would win Rookie of the Year there, as well. Upcoming star of the next year, and ultimately the World Heavyweight Championship. I then went and did the same thing in SSW. I then came and did the exact. same. thing. here. I fought my way through the ranks, I fought my way past legends, past men I should have had no business being in the ring with - and I emerged on the other end as the first ever Immortal Heavyweight Champion. Was it easy? Not at all. I was stabbed in the back by my best friend and closest ally. A man I spent years helping develop, a man I formed a brotherhood with and a man I stood side-by-side with as tag team champion in SSW. I had to fight that man to hell and back numerous times before I finally cleared him from my path in order to go on and achieve greatness.”

“I look at you, Elijah, and I see the exact same thing - albeit, in a more condensed form. A career of ups and downs that hasn’t spanned numerous years and promotions, but instead in just one. You’ve been lumped in as a lackey. You’ve been deemed a ‘team’ guy as you jumped from Ashes, to Blacklist, to Dynasty. You’ve been regulated as the low-tiered talent of the group. You’ve been betrayed by your closest allies, discarded, and left for dead - all to fight back and break through the ceiling that was put above you. Even though my rise through OWA, I kept an eye on you - I watched you, and truthfully - I hated seeing what was happening to you. But, I could do nothing for you then. I needed to see what you were made of. I needed to see if you would come out the other side. See, not every person is built like you or I. Most people would have just packed up and peaced when everything they knew - when everyone they’ve put their trust in - was gone and turned their backs on them. You and I, though, we fought through the adversity and came out the other side bigger, better, and as champions. And you know what, Elijah? I respect the fuck out of that. In fact; I respect you. And it’s because of that respect that I wanted this match.”

“It wasn’t Darkane. I’ve done that and I beat the man who was formally unbeatable. It wasn’t Jacob Senn, although I do owe the man a rubber match down the line. It had to be you.”

“When I stepped away to refocus myself, to restore honor to the Corsair name after it was tarnished, to let old wounds heal - I kept a close eye on things. I saw how the landscape of OWA shifted and I saw you taking the necessary steps to fill the void that I left - but I saw the events happening around you. I saw Jacob Senn turning his back on his ‘brothers’ and leaving them for dead. I saw Darkane siding with a ghost from his past and turning his back on you. I saw you becoming the only person that was standing against the forces that were coming for you - and I couldn’t let you drown, Elijah. No part of me would allow that - and that is why I showed face at Boiling Point to help you. That’s why I showed face at the Thunderbastard to help you. I have been in your position far too many times and I couldn’t stand by and let the same thing happen to you. I legitimately wanted for you to be the measuring stick, I legitimately wanted for you to be the Immortal Heavyweight Champion for eternity; you more than anyone on this roster deserves it after you’ve climbed out of hell. To see Prescott snake his way to the title sickens me, but that’s what little fucks like him do. What happened is unfortunate, and I know if anyone can bounce back - it will be you. But before you can do that, you gotta’ go through me.”

“Prescott’s not going to cancel this one, there’s no reason for him to. There’s no end game for him to accomplish by canceling the match this time. So it’s finally happening; you versus me - and honestly? I’m excited. I’m excited as hell for this. I’ve watched as you elevated your game, stepped up to the plate and swung for the fences every time. My initial thoughts of you were all wrong, and I’ll admit that. You’ve become one of the best to ever lace up in OWA. I told you all of those weeks ago that you needed to step up and quit making excuses. I told you that you needed to own everything, wins and losses - whether or not you had control of them, because at the end of the day - a real champion doesn’t make excuses. A real champion learns from the losses, uses them as a lesson, and betters themself. You could have taken that advice poorly and been a pissed off little bitch about it all, but you didn’t. You shouldered it and you took the advice. You took the advice and grew because of it. And now, Elijah, I want to test the mettle. Your’s and mine alike. I want to see if you are legit, I want to see If I still have it.”

“It’s been some time since I’ve stepped in the ring, we both know that. There may be a little rust on the gears, but I’m pretty confident that I can shake that off real quick - especially when someone like yourself pushes me to.”

“But as much as you and I are alike in our almost identical careers, know that I have the experience factor heading into this. I’ve been around the block a little longer than you. You may not have the rust like I do because you’ve been active and consistent; but I’m rested and I’m ready. Those nagging injuries that plagued me through the end of my run, those are long gone - but what of yours? You’ve been through hell. Your flesh was carved at OWA Five and I know those wounds are still healing, and mentally? You can say as many times as you want that you’re focused on me - but don’t lie to me, Elijah. You have the reemergence of Jacob Senn and Eon Blue in the back of your head, what are their motivations? You have Darkane and Lazarus running around, when will they come for you again? And not to mention your championship - after me, there will be another contender putting a target on your back. But … will there be an ‘after me’?”

“It’s true, I traded Nobi positions. It was never about the championship in my eyes, it was all about the match. Elijah Hampton or Remington Prescott. On one hand, I have Prescott - a man who used his wealth and influence to ground my plane into OWA Five, not to mention the fact he cloud-chased and bit off of me during his entire run in Europe trying his best to be a second-rate me. I’ve mopped the floor with him before and honestly, I wouldn’t mind doing it again .. but on the other hand is a match I wanted. So the trade was a no-brainer. Go get ‘em, Nobi. Bring that title back with you, don’t let the opportunity slip through your hands.”

“Your championship isn’t my goal, Elijah - I want you to know that. I’m not enticed by it, I’m not driven for it. I’m driven for competition. I’m focused on the fight. I want to bring out the best in you, just like I want you to bring out the best in me. My motivation is for this to be the match of the fucking year, no question. I want it to eclipse whatever happens at Final Destination, I want it to be remembered for years to come as a showcase of two of the best ever. The first ever Immortal Heavyweight Champion, against a man who changed the game. I know neither of us are going to back down from this, and that is what will make this match a battle of epic proportions. I know this, because we’re almost the same person. Both of us want to be the best, both of us will never stop - will never quit - will never die, and we’ve proven that time and time again.”

“That is why this match is a dream match to some. Maybe that’s even the reason this is a dream match of yours. This isn’t a dream match for me, this is a match of necessity. One way or another, I knew this had to happen. No dreams were involved. It was a must.”

“To me this match is all about proving which one of us is the best. The Prestige championship is just a kicker. The real prize for me is beating you, Elijah…”

“But, I would be lying if I said I didn’t already make a spot in my trophy case for that Prestige title.”

Alyssa Grace, The Banshee, Darkane, Elijah Hampton, Rebecca Filth, 'Don' Hendrix, Remington Ivory Prescott and have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos June 4th 2023, 12:41 pm by **Tyler Kulina**

Clash Promo #1

“A Belt to Kill For”

The camera opens to Tyler Kulina staring out the window while riding the Amtrak train from Rensselaer, NY to Baltimore, MD. Despite the spring weather, he has his signature gray hoodie over his head while sipping a small coffee. Kulina is currently in his baseline mode, relaxed and serene while contemplating how he will address the OWA Universe.

“Back in high school when I used to run the streets, my school - Albany High School - used to have these blood feuds with other schools in the area, mostly the posh private schools full of kids who thought they were better than use common folk. Every so often we used to get together at Washington Park and throw hands. Things used to get so intense that nobody knew who they were fighting anymore. This was realized by some kids from the same school who would have beef with each other, so they would use the chaos of the rumble to exact whatever revenge they had in mind. One fateful day during my junior year, things took a turn for the worst when one of the kids from my school decided to stab some dude he thought was sleeping with his girlfriend. Luckily, the victim was rushed to the hospital once the authorities broke everything up, but there was one thing about the situation that was left unresolved. The kid he stabbed? He wasn’t the one who banged his girlfriend.”

Tyler turned to the camera for a moment with a slight grin on his face before taking a sip from his coffee and looking back to the window.

“The OWAWC is the girl I’m currently pining for. Right now she’s in the arms of SSW founder and resident troll Stark. Or is it Starkman? Starkmane? Terrence Howard edition Starkmayne? I don’t know mayne, but what I do know is that this guy came out of nowhere and replaced Jason Long like a fad that came and went like the wind.I think the man formerly known as “Maverick” is no longer with us or whatever. A lot happened since The Great War Part Whatever. Some old heads came back. FTM got dethroned by Seventh Ward. Scott Oasis gave an executive order that Stark must defend his girlfriend in this year’s Clash of the Titans Match against a bunch of thirsty ass dudes. That’s me. I’m thirsty ass dudes, for real-for-real. Now, don’t tell Cassie this, but I kind of have experience in snatching girls from the dudes they’re tied to. The thing about relationships is that we expect it to save us, that they’ll change us forever. I mean some dudes get their shit together and some ladies develop a focus to anchor themselves. But here’s the thing: relationships are a journey between two or more people or things. A title reign is a relationship between a champion and the belt they hold. I thought Sena and I would land those tag titles, but Laz and Darkane are living our dream. That’s okay, though. Sen and I had to make some moves of our own. You can’t win the girl if you’re not going to work hard for it, right? So we decided to step our game up and take things to the next level. I haven’t felt this pumped in such a long time. It’s like my mind opened an entire universe of its own, full of infinite possibilities. And in one of those possibilities I walk out with the OWA World Championship over my shoulders. “Ty Kylna? World Champion? Lol!” is what’s probably going through everyone’s heads right now, and for that I’m glad. I want my opponents to get comfortable. I’m perfectly fine with the opps sleeping on me because I’m going hard in the paint. This is my first opportunity at the grand prize, something that Scott Oasis has gone on record to say he wants off the waist of Stark! Well, everyone is going to be gunning for homie, but only one of us is walking out world champion.”

Tyler puts a fist into his hand, his eyes focused and serious.

“I have every intention of pulling the upset heist of the century. This time it’s not about who sells out stadiums, who is buddy-buddy with the chairman, or which member of Frontline will get their shot. It’s anybody’s game and I for one love that shit. Stark has surprised the world with his title victory, something nobody expected to pull off. Despite being a successful businessman by opening the OWA gates to Japan with SSW, he was never considered a ‘top guy’. I get it, you know. People tell me that I have ‘a lot of promise’ or whatever, but in actuality, they think I’m just some good kid in a mad fed with a ceiling underneath him. From the shit I’ve seen on YoutTube, Stark always seemed like a guy you couldn’t take seriously, even back in the EAW days. Its no surprise that Jason Long was caught off guard because even- wait. WAIT! He lived!? JASON LONG LIVED!?”

Tyler looks at his amused, slightly amused.

“Well, I guess nobody in OWA stays dead for long. Maybe there’s hope for that AShley Walkler chick. She was pretty cute too. But all that aside, I think it's hella sus that Long gets another opportunity after dropping the ball so easily. You’d think someone paid the man $300 to take a fall or something. It’s such a shame because the IWC was clamoring for homie. But he and his ‘skills issue’ got the best of him, so it’s back of the line. If anything, I’ll toss him out of the ring myself. Then at ringside, he can figure out his bipolar feelings about Bishop and the Frontline. Speaking of which, we have a man from another dimension Arata Asakura 616. Or is it 4415? Or 420? Or deez nuts? You know what? Good or evil, it doesn’t matter. You’re one of the reasons why I felt like I couldn’t compete without stepping my game up. The original version of You had god powers and shit with Havoc and Abholos running around unchecked. Last season and the first half of this one in OWA were on some Mortal Kombat shit, you feel me? Old Arata or otherwise, you already had your title reign. Don’t blame Evil Arata for dropping the bag to Azumni Goto. Speaking of dropping the bag…”

Tyler sighs for a moment.

“Dude. Sabertooth. Your dirty laundry was out there for everyone to see. Hell, your laundry almost got all of us killed. Now I know it wasn’t your fault, but then…I don’t know, it kinda was. Sure you walked away from your old life, but you didn’t quite end things the way you were supposed to now did you? There were still Havoc worshippers doing the entity’s doing, while you played GI Joe with the rest of the Frontline boys. For a team that is supposed to protect Kingdom, you guys have certainly let a lot of shit slide. I don’t know, maybe Kingdom needs a new breed of hero? Normally I’m not one to suggest these things, but I’ve been lowkey feeling myself, so there’s that. Since I’m on the subject of Frontline, let’s discuss its fearless leader…”

Tyler pops a chip into his mouth before continuing.

“Jeff X of North Carolina. This is the first time I ever utter your name from my lips, hell last Kingdom was probably the first episode where we shared the same space with each other. I have a lot to say to you, and frankly, it shouldn’t be said here. But I will say this: The Frontline represents the cream of the crop in OWA. Four of you were world champions. Several of you held tag titles. And then the countless secondary reigns held between you all. If anything, the Frontline has been true to its namesake, holding the Front Line hostage from any up-and-comers. Jeff X wins this, Chris SDabertooth wins that, Arata Asakura even after tormenting the entire fed gets a free pass. I swear he gets more chances than Moongoose MQueen and that’s saying a lot. Does Goose think he can just waltz his way through an entire Clash and win? Listen, I get it. You risked your life to save the world or whatever, but I’d rather get back to actual competition than anything else. Can we just focus on the fights and leave the gods at home? Even with all of this power, some of us couldn’t handle it…could we DT?”

Tyler narrowed his eyes and cracked his knuckles.

“You and Raivo rolled the Mortal Kombat dice and ended up with snake eyes. The two of you didn’t get the power play you were looking for during Civil War and the world was nearly destroyed because of it. Good job guys, bravo. You two were so desperate to keep your titles that you didn’t foresee the rise of Seventh Wards. Instead, you focused on what you could get away with, and now you have to reap the consequences of your actions. I can’t allow for their of you to become OWA World Champion. This isn’t some kind of misplaced hate. FTM showed their colors and played their hand to the best of their ability. Eventually, you just know, just freaking absolutely know that they're planning some other kind of fuckery. Well, I now have the tools to keep them away from the OWA World Championship, on my own if I have to.”

“Sena will be with me in this match, and while it’s every man for himself, we’ll be back-to-back putting in work. A major advantage for the Super Dojo Bros. We’ll have to deal with other alliances and frenemies such as Chad and Dick P. Slaughter. God, it feels so weird saying that name. Do we have time splitters like Arthur Wakefield and a cat boy…girl? Meow? There’s the man who dropped the bag, Jason Long. Judging by his actions in the last Kingdom, he seems pretty serious about getting back what was lost. Too bad - he should’ve treated that felt like it meant something when it actually mattered, and maybe he wouldn’t have shriveled sun like that, you know? Then there’s Wolvesden. Nate Cage and JD Damonm are carrying the flag for a group that no longer exist. They’re lost in their own nostalgia. Just like the mosat of the world, they think they know what works and what doesn’t. They all think they know better than me, that one of them will be the last man standing. Well, heh, it’s a New God Flow now my friends.”

Tyler pops another chip in his mouth and smiled.

“Not going to lie. I’m looking forward to this. Mrs. Matsuda told me about her first battl;e royal victory for her Specialist Championship. Ironically enough, I’ll be throwing one of her most prized students over those ropes in the name of Jacob Striker. Here’s the trying - I’m coming for whoever wants the smoke. Be it CATCH Hound, For the MInorities, Frontline, or even my own damn tag partner. But what I want, what I hope in my dear young heart that the last person that gets thrown over those ropes is the champion himself. And when he does, it’ll be by none other than yours truly. This iusn’t a joke. This isn’t me talking shit for the sake of talking shit. This is as real as it gets. Pretty soon - Tyler Kulina, OWA World Champion.”

Tyler smiled to himself as the camera fades.

-----

“So how does it feel to hold true power?”

Tyler opened his eyes. Before him stood Edward Softly in his human form, a blue hoodie and jeans to match the collection of tattoos on his arms. Edward stroked his beard carefully, watching Tyler with careful eyes. The young fighter could see the sleek, oily-like blac k and red aura emanating from Softly’s being. It was the power of Abholos, the once destructive force that consumed him that with the help of now girlfriend Rebecca Filth, he was able to control. He didn’t know much about Edward’s history, but he knew that the man was selfless enough to help him take things to the next level. Stephanie Matsuda had advised against this, but not because she didn’t trust Edward. She and him…have an odd relationship these days. It was one that was creating tension between her and Serenity Scorpio, who in turn was Jacobn Striker’s fiance. It was Serenity’s father whose life Edward took by accident years ago. While he finally convinced Matsuda it was an accident, it was going to take Serenity an even longer time to accept any kind of apology to begin the road to forgiveness. ‘

Tyler Kulina: I…I can see it all. Your feelings…Stephanie’s…that Serenity girl…even Jacob and Fith’s. Ya’ll havde to figure some shit out. Is this like psychic powers or some shit?

Edward Softly: Not in the traditional sense. It’s more spiritual than mental, though willpower is a must to control it. Speaking of Stephanie, she agreed to train you and Sena further with these powers.

Tyler Kulina: Wait…she has these powers too!?

Edward Softly: Not powers per se. She is a practicing Shinto Buddishist, and an experienced in the art of meditation. She managed to survive a fight against Abholos. Did she ever tell you that?

Tyler Kulina: Nah. When was this?

Edward Softly: In SSW a few years back. I tried to possess her mind but her retalitaed and sent us into a desert of the astral plane where we waged a battle that lasted for 30 days and 30 nights. It only ended when someone from her end was able to pull her mind back to the material plane. Fortunately for her, if her allies didn’t attach her to an IV, she would’ve died from starvation and dehydration. That experience improved her mental capabilities, allowing her to perform meditative feats that even the most capable monks have trouble performing. This earned her some respect amongst the Zen Buddhist community and even was offered a role of head priestess of the Matsuda Clan.

Tyler Kulina: Whoa. Did she take it?

Edward Softly: ‘Not yet’ were her exact words. It’s a big responsibility which is understandable. But yeah, Cloud has quite a few tricks up her sleeve. Some that hasn’t been seen by public eyes, or can even be conceived by a live audience. Just ask the North Brooklyn criminal underworld.

Tyler Kulina: The what?

Edward Softly: Exactly. So yeah, I’m just here to assess the extent at which your potential has expanded.

Tyler Kulina: And how to we do that?

Edward smiled and spread his arms out.

Edward Softly: Expand your mind. Your space. Your…domain.

As if he already knew the answer, Tyler nodded and got into position, putting his hands together in a jutsu-like fashion, similar to anime ninjas and monks.

Tyler Kulina: Domain…Expansion. Brawl 4 All.

The scenery around Tyler and Edward shifted from the rooftop of the Baltimore Sheridan Hotel to a deserted street in the downtown area of some random city at night. The empty buildings seem to loom over them as if they were alive. As the structures seemingly closed in, a fog emitted from the darkest alleys of the area. Inside the fog was countless faceless individuals who weren't waiting around for a good time.

Edward Softly: Yes…this is interesting. Not only can you use this on an opponent but you can use this on yourself to train. Those shapes? They’re representations of your willpower. So in a way, you’ll be fighting yourself. Stephanie can help you hone in on that aspect of your domain expansion.

Tyler Kulina: Wait…Matsuda has a domain expansion!?

Edward just smiled as he faded into the darkness of the city. The figures emerged from the shadows and ran at Tyler who got into a fighting position. As they came into view, the shapes took human form, each representing an announced opponent of this year’s Clash. Kulina soon found himself holding his own against every participant. This was okay for Tyler though. He was used to it being him versus the world.

Edward awakened from the Astral Plane to find himself standing before the cross-legged Tyler meditating as he found himself inside the depths of his soul. He looked up and saw Stephanie Matsuda sitting on top of the hotel’s ventilation system, dressed in a navy ‘C9’ hoodie and black shorts.

Stephanie Matsuda: He’s activated his domain expansion?

Edward Softly: (nods) Yeah. Now I just need to speak with Sena. You can take over here if you have time. I know you have a title defense and everything-

Stephanie Matsuda: I’ll be alright.

Stephanie pushed herself off the ventilator and approached Edward. Her eyes were focused on TYler’s still body.

Stephanie Matsuda: It’s funny - I told myself I was retired from training people, but here we are post-return and I’m up to the same bullshit I was a year ago.

Edward Softly: Sometimes life takes us in un ex[ected directions, Steph. Look at where we were, our ups and downs, and now here we are.

Stephanie Matsuda: (sighs) True. I’m still not ready to talk about it…about us. But, maybe soon. Serenity still doesn’t know we’re talking and she’s probably going to hate me forever when she does.

Edward Softy: Just give her time. You’re speaking with me after all and you pretty much took my original life. But, you had a reason for it, one that I accept due to my responsibility for what lead to that point. Though Rebecca feels otherwise…

Stephanie Matsuda: Understandable. Well, we’ll talk more about it later.

Edward Softly: Right. I’ll see Mr. Taguchi now.

Edward vanished, leaving Cloud alone with Tyler, who emerged from his meditative state. He looks up at Cloud who looks down with her arms crossed, observing the beads of sweat dripping down his face.

Stephanie Matsuda: How was it?

Tyler Kulina: (breathes) U-uh…crazy intense. I-I won…I think.

Stephanie helps Tyler to his feet and turns away from him, walking several feet.

Stephanie Matsuda: I know how to connect my mind with others when they’re in the Astral Plane so I had a peek at what was going on in that domain of yours…intense stuff. Like Edward must’ve told you…I can help you sharpen those instincts. It’s not going to be easy, though. You have to open yourself up to me mind and soul. Let me in, and we won’t have a problem.

Tyler nodded and took a water bottle from Stephanie’s hand. He was exhausted but felt like he was still able to go another round after some rest. As if reading his mind, Cloud shook her head.

Stephanie Matsuda: I know that expression. ‘I have a new power and I want to spam it all day!’ Nah, fam. Sit down, relax, and take the day to perform some light exercise. What you did would exhaust most people to the point of passing out. That power boost Edward gave you included a slight enhancement to your physical and mental stamina.

Tyler Kulina: I-I just don’t want to fall behind…

Stephanie Matsuda: Fall behind who and for what? You’ll have a lot more success if you stopped comparing yourself to others. You’re your own fighter, Ty, with your own unique style. Rely on that and I guarantee you’ll be satisfied with your own growth.

Tyler sighed as he took a towel from Stephanie’s hand and wiped his face. The Sky Queen was right. He had the potential to win The Clash and walk home with the OWA World Championship. He just needed to “trust the process” or whatever. This was going to be the toughest fight of his life and he needed to be completely confident.

Tyler Kulina: I have to thank you again for taking time out of your schedule to help me. I know when you retired you said you were going to stop teaching. I want you to know that this means a lot to me.

Stephanie Matsuda: I say a lot of things, doesn’t mean it’s exactly true. Anywho, let’s take a break. Scott Oasis told me about some crab shack by the bay. My treat.

Tyler Kulina: Awesome. By the way, is it okay if I refer to you as Cloud-sensei?

Stephanie chuckled as she rubbed the back of her neck.

Stephanie Matsuda: Sure, whatever floats your boat. Listen, I’m hungry. The sooner we can get there, the sooner I can train for my own match and address the a-hole who wants my American Dream.

Tyler nodded, being respectful of Stephanie’s concerns as they walk to the door.

Tyler Kulina: Cloud-sensei…do you believe I can win?

Stephanie Matsuda: I believe in a lot of things, sweets. Most of all, to expect the unexpected.

Tyler Kulina: Like me winning?

Stephanie Matsuda: Sure, whatever floats your boat, sweets.

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

6 Man Tag Promo 1 June 4th 2023, 10:38 am by **'Don' Hendrix**

[img]https://www.restaurantinteriordesign.eu/wp-content/uploads/2018/02/Most-expensive-restaurants-in-Miami-to-go-today.jpg[/img

OWA Network is taken to Miami, Florida inside one of the most expensive restaurants sits three men- one of OWA's newest signing, Poet- OWA's new Icarus Champion, Reginald Dampshaw III- and the former holder of the Icarus Championship and World Champion Challenger, 'Don' Hendrix. Hendrix is presented his meal as he looks at the two gentlemen that have joined him.

"Reginald, Poet, thank you for joining me today. As you two are aware, we're set for this six man tag match against Ryo Sakazaki, Tatsuo Sakaguchi, and Brody. Now, I know Poet that you can defeat Brody, he only got lucky against you. With us, two Champions of the OWA trade, you're going to learn how to go from good to main eventer here quickly. Brody is a druggie. He's a druggie for dope, but also the roar of the crowd. So was I. I lived for the roar of the crowd for years, and it almost cost me my life, let alone career in that ring. Brody will suffer the same fate. Watching his one match I already gathered everything I needed of him- he's under confident. He walked in there not expecting to win and he walked out shocked he stole the win from you, Poet. He gets frustrated too easily too. Each kick out you had, his emotions rose higher and higher. He expressed an internal doubt in himself that the whole world can see and that's where his weakness will be the significant downfall of your team at Clash Of The Titans. And getting to humiliate and break down the rookie will do wonders for you, Poet, in the long run, I can guarantee that with everything I know."

Hendrix cuts down into his steak, eating a bite before looking at Reginald Dampshaw III.

"Reginald, I'll keep it real with you, I had my doubts about you coming to Olympus. I thought you came here from Kingdom and try to destroy the legacy I have been building here on this brand. But I'm man enough to admit when I'm wrong. You're here to make excellent money and reach to the top right alongside me. Let me say, I love this new side to you. The ruthless son of a bitch that's been knocking out his opponents left and right, leaving them concussed messes inside that ring. And I know you're going to do the same fucking thing to Tatsuo Sakaguchi. "The Honored One". What have honored you, Tatsuo? Not a fucking thing. You think because you come from Japan, it makes you worthy of the nickname, or even the match you're in itself? What is this "justice for both sides"? "All sides can get it" propaganda you spew? Maybe you fight either side because no side wants false hope? Maybe this "Best In The World" attitude when it's not even remotely close to being earned is why? What's funny is you're not the best Japanese wrestler I've ever stood in the ring with. You're not even the best "I'm The Best Wrestler" overhype I've been in the ring with. And you're going to be beaten down to a bloody pulp by the Icarus Champion here. This isn't your chance to showcase yourself to the future of OWA in Poet, the champion that will smash every single challenger in his way, and Main Event Hendrix- this is your demise. The end of a short, yet will forever be forgettable tenure in OWA Wrestling.

And this fucking clown Ryo Sakazaki…. AGAIN!!!!

I'd rather let Casey Anthony babysit my daughter than face Ryo Sakazaki again. If I have to face this dumbass after this again, I'm going to commit suicide in the middle of the ring and that's on Allah. I'm serious! I told him after I beat him in the Icarus Championship match we had, he wasn't to face me again. Whoever made this match official must be on hard drugs because this is facing him Again! I want new! Hell, I should be facing Elijah Hampton for the Prestige Championship so I can prove he can't beat me. I rather be in the Clash match itself! But at last, this is the cons of being a main eventer- I got to face the jobber. Well, since I do my job and I do that bitch good OWA Promos - Page 4 3075383602

let's get into it.

Last time we faced off in a match, I beat your ass pezzo di merda. I ripped right through you and sent you down the card to with the rest of the curtain jerkers. Now, you stuck your nose in Tres Comas Club business in a pathetic attempt to bring yourself to any sort of relevance you dream for. And if memory serves me correctly, I said all this would happen! Right after I was a driving force in you losing the Prestige Championship to Mark Michaels, I told you that I would climb the card faster than you ever could, and I did. You were stuck in the middle of the shows while I'm over here main eventing pay-per-views for the World Championship. I walk backstage and get the round of applause you only dream of. You walk backstage and get absolute silence, because you put on a Ryo Sakazaki match- mid at best. Hell the company would be better off with you leaving and going to EAW or something and dying along side them to OWA as well because that's the only place you're going to get a break in.

I'm going to spend all my effort into you Ryo because I want this drilled into your thick skull- you're beneath me. You're forever beneath me. I came to this company being told you're a future Immortal Heavyweight Champion and with two encounters, I shut down all that talk. I really ended your career before you did, and I'm fucking proud of that. I'm proud that I get to permanently end it at Clash Of The Titans in this six man tag. Hell, I'm proud that Reginald will knock your ass out then I skin you alive. Or maybe I have Poet pin you and watch you hang yourself because you got beat by a brand new star. Honestly saves me the time and effort. You'll be saving me the time and effort and everybody who pays another mid performance and another sight for sore eyes."

Hendrix cuts into his steak, taking another bite, trying to cool off his steam.

"Scusate signori. But you can see just how fucking tired I am of facing this guy. OWA Promos - Page 4 331902765

He has a nasty obsession with me while I'm improving my career, bettering my family and my peers around me. OWA Promos - Page 4 3075383602

You wouldn't know that since anyone you ever cared for died or abandoned you. :you: And you think after failing on two separate occasions, you can beat me now?

OWA Promos - Page 4 470282409

Give me a fucking break. You can go fuck yourself with that thought.

The first stint was Hendrix's Arrival. The reboot is named Hendrix's Redemption. And like before, there's three people in my way. I will run through the rookie, the failure, and the deceased to get back to my main event. And when I do, Elijah Hampton, I pray you keep that title, because I want your gold so I can say that The Don is responsible for another title being taken off your broken down body."

Alyssa Grace, The Banshee, Remington Ivory Prescott, DT The Ruler, Felix Hartley and Chad Ecclestone have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos June 3rd 2023, 2:02 pm by **Elijah Hampton**

[Hell. That’s what the former OWA Immortal Heavyweight Champion has been put through. First, it was The Thunderbastard and most recently, OWA 5. Making enemies left and right. His body being beaten, bruised, and battered. But it’s the mental scars that weigh the heaviest. The first scene of this promo takes place just a few days after OWA 5. He spent a little time in the hospital, but he’ll live. Elijah would love nothing more than to fly home and let everything digest, but he hasn’t been cleared for flight just yet. He’s in for a check-up with OWA medical staff, laying down on a table on his belly, as the doc removes the bandages from his back to put new ones on. In the room in his old mentor, Roy Bandini, and his childhood friend/agent Anthony. Elijah doesn’t seem to be in a talking mood, as the room remains rather silent besides the times you hear a slight grimace from the Prestige Champion. The doc leaves.]

Anthony: “Sooooo like — um, yeah. Neat.”

Roy: “Huh?”

[They both try to avoid the elephant in the room which is that nasty gash on Elijah’s back after RIP took a golden knife and carved a W in it. Until Anthony does Anthony things.]

Anthony: “Not gonna lie, that giant cut on your back is a little fucked, my boy. Does it hurt? It looks like it hurts. Like not even a little bit, but like, a lot. Can I touch it? Nah, I probably shouldn’t. Dumb idea, yeah."

Roy: “It’ll heal. It’ll fade. Just like RIP, just like Jay and KD.”

[Their words are met with silence as they wait for Elijah to say something. Even if it’s just two words. And they get their wish as Elijah says fuck it and vents to them.]

Elijah: “…Do you know how easy this journey would be if I just ditched my morals, my values, and my beliefs, huh? Imagine if I replaced my talent with weapons? Imagine if I traded the ring for a cushy office and became buddy-buddy with the authority figures? Or better yet, become one? I could rig the system completely in my favor as I see fit to make sure I come out on top at all times. All the time and energy that I would save. Think about it. Think about everything I’ve put on the line since I won that Immortal Heavyweight Championship — I’ve grown to hate that name by the way. Immortal. It’s a sick and cruel joke. Look at me, Roy. Look at me, Anthony. Do I look like someone that’s Immortal? I’ve put my body, my career, my friendships, MY LIFE on the line time and time again for that title, for this brand — and yet, I wouldn’t have changed a thing. Because I’m not looking to get a pat on the back for it — literally, don’t touch my back right now or I’ll straight up murk you. I’m just saying. I’ve been in the trenches, squaring off against the entire Olympus locker room as I’m covered in red dots the moment I step out and they all pull the trigger at once. There are only so many bullets I can dodge before I fatally get hit. Only so much damage the human body can take.”

Anthony: “Yeah man, you should like go on vacation or something. Cancun is great this time of the year. Lemme look at the flights real quick. Hmmmmm, on Tuesday they—“

Roy: “Shut up.”

Anthony: “Copy that.”

Elijah: “That’s the thing. I would love to dip my toes in the sand and catch some rays and enjoy some big booty Latinas for a couple of months and recharge and load manage — but I can’t. Not with the state that Olympus is in. And — and I know I’ve said those exact words before in the past. It’s because, like clockwork, you get rid of one overstayed regime, and a new one gets ushered in. Goodbye Project Smile and hello — whatever they are gonna call themselves. RIP, Jay, KD — whoever the third owner is — fully expecting it to be Robbie or DDD or Impact because what in the EAW fuck was that out there at OWA 5, hmm? Then you got Hendrix and RD3. Can’t forget The Seventh Ward afterward either. The list continues to grow with no end in sight. Somebody has to challenge them, contest, and later on swat their layup attempt into the fourteenth row. Why not me?”

Roy: “It doesn’t just have to be you. You do realize that, right? You talk about how easy your career would be if you just said fuck it and cut corners like everybody else. At the same time, it is you that makes it unnecessarily hard on yourself. There are people out there that are reaching out and extending their hands toward you to help you back up on your feet. Take it. Swallow your pride and accept their help. You need it.”

Anthony: “Yeah, like Jacob Senn. Two former Immortal Heavyweight Champions teaming up to leave a body of frauds in their wake.”

Elijah: “There may be one former Dynasty member I trust. Not Miles because he’s gone MIA, even with me being the last-ever APEX World Champion. It’s not Darkane, obviously. And Senn? At this time, no comment. The answer is rather obvious as I’ve pretty much spelled it out. I’ll be sure to contact him.”

[Current Day]

“OWA 5 was one of OWA’s events of all time. No, I did not misspoke. A word isn’t missing. But what is missing is my OWA Immortal Heavyweight Championship. Bummer, right? The fact I don’t sound all that broken up or worried about it is because I know for a fact that it’ll find its way home again. It always does. In the meantime, a lot has happened in recent memory. A lot I don’t like. A lot I wish I could change and fix and while we’re at it, right some wrongs. But what’s done is done. And this is my new reality. With one of my shoulders being unfortunately bare. With my face being disfigured after a certain ring connected with it. A giant scar covers my back. Something you can’t cover up with a pink Hello Kitty bandaid. Nothing new there since I’ve always had a target on my back.A W may be fitting, since those come in bunches when it comes to me, but an X would have sufficed as well. X marks the spot, right? And that’s what they want. My spot. Whether I have the Immortal Heavyweight title in my possession or not, being at the apex of this entire company is where I belong and it isn’t for the taking. But yes, as you can see, the battle scars keep adding up. My world title keeps getting subtracted. My level of annoyance keeps getting multiplied. And this brand remains divided. But fuck PEMDAS ‘cause I ain’t following the orders of this Tres Comas Club operation. I say bring in whoever you want, Jay, KD, whoever the third ‘owner’ may be — if this was 2014, then perhaps I would have some level of doubt creeping into the back of my mind. Their bodies may no longer be able to hold up when it comes to the professional wrestling grind but their pockets and their minds! That’s their new bread and butter. Cool, but if they think hitching their wagon to the likes of RIP, RD3, Wraith, and Brandon will get them anywhere but disappointment then I have a bridge to sell you. Investing in them is a sunk cost. Soon enough they will understand that. Because I’ll tell you right now, the current Tres Comas Club depth chart is out of their depth when it comes to what awaits them. Here’s some advice — stock up. Collect as many bodies as you possibly can. Go see what the likes of Andre Virgo, Matias Navarro, and The One True Pairing are up to and squad the fuck up. Who? Exactly my point. Give it a few years and you’ll be asking the same exact question regarding this newer version of a group that was once dead and is now dead on arrival in the year 2023.”

“I will never understand why these daft pricks let me live to see another day every time shit like this happens like I’m Michael Myers or Jason. Gotta make sure I’m dead or else I’m gonna pop up again down the line and fuck your shit up. Although, then again, when it comes to OWA, the whole death thing doesn’t really exist, so maybe that’s it. They try to flip my life upside down. They take my title with some rather questionable tactics and no ethics. They wipe the blood off their hands and think their work here is done. Acting as if I’m just gonna stay down and be like damn cuh, you caught me lacking. Guess I’ll just go fuck off now. You guys have fun now! Okay bye! No, I get right back in the lab and I get right mentally and physically. Because I have my faults. And holding grudges is one of them. I forgive, but I don’t forget. Remember that line, Jacob — but I digress. Point is, I don’t rest until I even the score. Not even that, but until I run up the score. As I remind them that there are levels to this. That there is a pecking order around here and I’m at the top while I ‘This is Sparta’ they ass when they try to touch my platform. But I get it. Normally when a world champion is dethroned around here, they kinda just give up. They either move down the card without much of a fight or they go on a sabbatical. They already climbed the mountain before and they think back about all the sacrifices they made, the toll it took to get to that point, and let’s just say that not everyone is willing to scale it again. One reign is good enough in their eyes. It was on their bucket list. They crossed it off and they can hang their hat on that one moment. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a pretty huge milestone. I know that firsthand. A huge chunk, probably what? 90? 95 perfect of the OWA rosters won’t know what that feeling is like. It’s an exclusive club. A club that Rich and Remington belong to. And that right there is probably my biggest gripe when it comes to this ‘mess.’ Every human has their biases. Some might think I’m biased when I look back at my time as world champion. As if I hold this standard that only I can meet. But I don’t feel that way. Because this place is filled to the brim with quality talent. And that includes RIP. It’s just the way he won the title is what I have an issue with. The same went for Rich at the time. And I’m sure Noah could say the same about Jacob. I would love to actually congratulate the wrestler that dethroned me. Give them their flowers. Sing their praises. I would love to admit that they were the better man that night. But with the stunts those two pulled, I am left with giving a half-hearted phony response to their half-assed performances. Oh well.”

“I’m out for revenge. But the revenge can wait another day, so I’ll gently put down my pitchfork and have a civil conversation. Let’s talk about the present — which is exactly what this matchup is gonna be — a present. Let’s talk about Clash of the Titans, as you’ll get to see two titans clash for your entertainment. For mine as well. Because facing Noah Reigner, that’s a dream match of mine. I’ve made that known. The thought of it coming to fruition one day always left me giddy. And here we are, the Clash of the Titans! Although, there’s cause for pause. Because I must ask, will it actually happen this time? Because if you recall, it was supposed to be Elijah Hampton, the reigning and defending Immortal Heavyweight Champion — at the time, facing off against the inaugural Immortal Heavyweight Champion, Noah Reigner. I got my hopes up, only to be let down by RIP — which is a common theme I’m noticing when it comes to him. He yanked the rug out from under us and he supplanted you with himself. So what I’m going to do heading into Clash of the Titans week is I’m going to act as if there will be no last-minute replacement. That no tomfoolery will go down. No outside interference. Just Elijah Hampton and Noah Reigner. Two honorable fighters scrapping inside the middle of the ring to settle who the best is. That’s it. Because you Noah, you 100% deserve my full and undivided attention. If I have something or someone else on my mind, I won’t be doing myself any favors. And you will make quick work of me. I am sure of it because that’s how talented you are. That tape don’t lie. There’s a reason why you’re a household name. Why you’re a legend. Why you’ve held world title gold in numerous companies throughout the years. It’s because you’re great. It’s because you’re consistent. And I’ve tried to model my game after yours in those aspects. You created the blueprint. And I’ve followed some of it. But at the same time — Elijah Hampton is Elijah Hampton. There are a handful of wrestlers that have inspired me and of course, your name belongs on that list — but I’ve carved out a legacy of my own. A legacy I’ve become proud of. I’ve made my own decisions. I’ve made some good calls. I’ve made some mistakes. Some heated spur-of-the-moment mistakes. But all of it, has led me in the right direction. It’s led me to world championships. And it’s led me to facing the biggest names that the wrestling industry has to offer. In a short period of time, I’ve accomplished pretty much everything I wanted to. I could pack it up, call it a career while I can still walk under my own power and be inducted into the OWA Hall of Fame. Whether I would be first ballot or not, would remain to be seen. But — for whatever reason, I just can’t stop. Waving the white flag, it’s not in my DNA. Letting guys like RIP or groups like Tres Comas Club win at my expense, it’s not how I’m wired. I talk about legacy — I want to continue to add to mine. The Book of Eli is still in its early chapters. It’s not close to reaching its conclusion. I’m here now. And while I’m here, I’m going to give every last fiber of my being to this company.”

“And I have you to thank for that, Noah. The fact I’m still here, the fact I’m still competing, or better yet, just breathing — I attribute it to you. It never once dawned on me to ask for your help or beg you to intervene in any of my prior matches because truth be told, I wasn’t sure if you even know who I was. But you did it anyway. Why? I by no means want to put words in your mouth, but I’m going to say that most would agree that it’s because it was the right thing to do. In many ways, you’ve been like a guardian angel or some shit. Helping me get out of dodge as you evened the playing field for me on a few occasions. To give me a fighting chance. And that’s all I’ve ever needed. It started with my Immortal Heavyweight title match against Jacob Senn. As you disguised yourself as a Project Smile drone. You gave me the sword that could have ended Senn’s life if I really wanted to, but that was never at the top of my list of priorities. Although, to be fair, a little later, I then pushed you out of the way and took that beam of light that came out of Senn’s mouth. Call it even at the time. Fast forward to The Thunderbastard, you poof out of thin air and toss me a fire extinguisher, which I ended up using against Darkane. Again, you were there for me. And the thing is, your actions, pale in comparison to the words you have bestowed upon me. When I lost my Immortal Heavyweight Championship for the first time, I was at my lowest. I’ve faced defeat before, but that one? That was quite the gut punch. I tried to pull myself back up. I tried to get my groove back. But I fell flat. I felt unmotivated. I felt unsure of what my purpose was now. Until you marched out to that ring and gave me a much-needed pep talk. And I listened. I listened carefully. I took it all in. Every last word, I hung onto. And what I respected most about it was you didn’t sugarcoat it. You told me like it was. You hit me with some tough love. Some constructive criticism. And I didn’t take it personally. I didn’t walk backstage with my head held low and I wasn’t fighting back tears. The only thing I was fighting was my inner demons. And I won. I then fought Rich Gatsby, and I won. You played a major role in my second reign. And I thank you for that. And at Clash of the Titans, I get to share the ring with you. And I thank you for that. Because I know you will elevate my game. And together, we will elevate the Prestige Championship.”

VaeVictisBD, Christopher Sabertooth, Alyssa Grace, The Banshee, Darkane, Remington Ivory Prescott, DT The Ruler and have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos June 3rd 2023, 9:10 am by **Poet**

From the study of Poet.

Poet sat in the leather chair, deep in thought. In one hand he held a large glass of whiskey, and in the other, a well smoked cigar. The chair sat in the corner of the room, with a large bookshelf to the immediate left, and a large painting of a man standing over a fallen opponent to the right. A small table sat next to the chair, which is where Poet sat the still smoking cigar.

But Poet had yet to speak. He glanced up at the camera few times, paused, and then looked away. He shifted silently in the seat a few times and took sips from the glass, clearly thinking of how to begin but not being able to find the words. During this wait, his secretary comes in with an iPad, which Poet thanks her for and places on the table next to him.

Poet then sighs, takes another sip of his drink and looks down the camera.

“You know, I wasn’t too sure how to approach this interview. I mean, it would be easy to sit here and piss and moan about losing my first match here in OWA. I could be angry about it, frustrated by it… but I am neither. Sure, Brody, you and your daddy might have won the first battle, but I can guarantee you that I will win the war. Just take a look at how the match turned out – you might have pinned my shoulders to the mat, but you showed your hand. You gave me everything you had last week and, as the bell rang to signal our victory, I still had enough in the tank to send you a message. And if you didn’t understand that message, which is altogether possible, it was that I went easy on you. I wanted to see what you had, and what you had… disappointed me.”

Poet then put the glass of whiskey down on one of the bookshelves before leaning over to pick up the iPad.

“If the good people of OWA needed any convincing that this result was unexpected, then you only need to look at this article that was released 24 hours after our match in the Wrestling Observer. Let me read for you a few excerpts from this article, written by wrestling luminary 'Barry McCockiner'…”

‘If you ever wanted an example of someone wrestling above themselves, then look no further than the debut of Brody. While I was mildly impressed with his style, it was clear that his opponent, Poet, made no effort to get out of second gear.’

‘Brody winning this match was, to me, the upset of the night. Poet’s vicious attack at the end of the match summed it up – while he took his eye off the prize for a moment and was punished, you couldn’t help but understand the significance of the attack after the match. Poet was saying ‘I still had plenty left in the tank, and next time, I’ll show you how much there is.’ I can’t wait to what happens when these two lock horns again…’

Poet flicks the iPad off, pops it down on the table and picks up the cigar.

“Upset. That’s the word I want you to linger on for a little while. No, it’s not what you think it means – it’s not when you get upset at your father when he doesn’t give you dessert because you didn’t eat all your vegetables for dinner – but it’s an upset in the sense that everyone expected me to win. Maybe I did get ahead of myself, and maybe I just expected the win to happen. Kudos to you, though, my dear boy Brody. I bet your old man waxed the old surfboard for you after the victory, so I guess there is that.”

“But, let us turn our focus forward for now. That match is the past. There doesn’t seem any sense in that. Next week, at Clash of the Titans, it seems that one of us has been given an upgrade, while the other… not so much. This six man tag match promises to be nothing short of fantastic, but what is also clear is who we have both been put with.”

As Poet smokes his cigar for a moment, his secretary comes back into view to whisper something into his ear. Poet nods a few times, grimaces momentarily, and then the secretary turns to leave. Poet rubs his forehead and blows out a few puffs of smoke before continuing.

“Now, if we look on my side of the ledger, we firstly have Mr. Dampshaw the Third, a man who has not only been around OWA for some time, but a man who has just recently won himself the Icarus Championship. A man whose intentions may be a mystery, but also a man who knows how to get things done. His title is proof of this. And the powers that be at OWA have already seen fit to give me the opportunity to stand side by side with this man, and I am ready to take hold of that chance with both hands.”

“And what about the ‘Don’ himself? A leader of men, a leader who also knows how to get things done and understands the importance of being ruthless about it. I’ve seen some vision of this man, both in the ring and around his family, and I’ve been nothing short of impressed to this point. He is a man after my own heart – he has money, he has class, he has talent and he has respect. And that’s the biggest thing for me.”

Poet places his cigar down and leans forward in the chair.

“And then there’s myself. A man of substance. A man of talent. A man of charisma and, most of all, a man of words who can back them up every… single… day. While I know I’m the new kid on the block in the OWA, it won’t be long before my tag partners know that I’m not just here to make a minor impact, or to make some money. I’m here to earn their respect, and by the end of the bout, I’ll have it. I don’t care what needs to be done to get it. I don’t care who I have to hurt, or how I have to hurt them, to ensure that we walk out that night with our hands raised. And for me, it will be just the beginning. A starting point. With that respect earned I will have allies in my corner who I can call upon, rely upon, to help me in my quest to become the best that OWA has seen in a very, very long time.”

Poet then smiles to himself and stands. He picks up his empty glass and walks over to the other side of the room, where a small cabinet houses a variety of different spirits – bourbon, whiskey, vodka, gin. Poet refills his glass with some ice from a small bucket on top of the cabinet, and then pours in a generous amount of whiskey. He places the bottle back in the cabinet and sits back down in his chair.

“Now, I spent a little time out of my day to have a look at who our opponents are and I have to admit – I can see why Brody ended up over on that side of the ledger. Firstly, one of his tag partners is known as ‘The Grinning Demon’. Now, I find this brilliant. No, really, I do. OWA must have seen my first interview and the link I made between Brody and that painful airhead you had to put up with at high school and said ‘you know what? Let’s go with it.’ Because all that comes to mind when I think of someone referring to themselves as the ‘Grinning Demon’ is that 15 year old emo kid at high school who listens to Pearl Jam, wears clothes that are all black and they’re in a band where their music is crap. It’s brilliant. On one hand you’ve got Brody, the man with an IQ of a brick, and the emo kid, who sits inside on his Xbox all day while blaming his parents for all the troubles in his life. I wonder how he’ll go with Brody’s dad hanging around at ringside like that creep who continually walks past a playground where children play…”

“And then, as if it couldn’t get any better, we come to Tatsuo Sakaguchi. I looked this guy up and the first thing that came to mind is ‘fence rider’. He doesn’t want to be good, he doesn’t want to be bad, he just wants to be stuck in neutral so he can follow around the bigger dogs wherever they may lead. Feel like being a bad boy? I’ll go follow him for a while. Oh wait, the fans are booing me a little? Maybe I’ll go out there and do something good. Hold on, now I’m not getting any attention from the females, so maybe I should be the bad boy…? I hate to continue with my high school example, but this is the person at school who will do anything to be liked. You can pay him 10 cents and he’ll go to the cafeteria to get your lunch. He will laugh at all your jokes, even if he doesn’t understand them. But most of all, he is just happy to be your lap dog, so important is it for him to be liked that he will just be happy to sit in your presence and do whatever it is you ask. Nobody really likes him, but because they don’t want to see him cry, they allow him to stick around… after all, he does make them look pretty good by comparison.”

Poet takes a sip from his glass and places it on the shelf.

“So, what do we have here? What is the point to all of this? Well, in this instance, wrestling talent means little. Dampshaw, Hendrix and myself will be facing three men of so little quality that the outcome is almost academic. Brody has the IQ of a potato, Ryo wants go outside and stand in the rain while his makeup runs, and Tatsuo is a chance to switch over to our side if the mood should strike him. After all, he is happy to go wherever the wind blows.”

Poet then looks briefly off camera as he secretary comes back in with something in her hands. She gives it to Poet, and as she leaves, we can see that is the big leather bound book that normally sits on his desk. Poet opens it and flicks over a few pages before looking back at the camera.

“Now, it wouldn’t be right if I didn’t finish this off with some sort of poem, so I thought this time I’d give the fans an idea of just how this match is going to pan out at Clash of the Titans. I have a feeling we all know what the outcome will be but, for now, just come along for the ride…”

In the ring, a storm is brewing, emotions running high,

Poet steps forth, intensity flashing in his eyes.

Reginald Dampshaw III and Don Hendrix by his side,

A trio destined for glory, on this magnificent ride.

Their opponents, high school dropouts, each with their own tale,

Ryo Sakazaki, Tatsuo Sakaguchi, and Brody, they assail.

In this Clash of Titans, words will clash, bodies collide,

A symphony of power, a battle that won't be denied.

Poet, a master of the verse, his words a razor-sharp sword,

He steps into the limelight, his heart unyielding, his spirit roared.

His teammates beside him, a tapestry of strength and might,

Together they stand, ready to face men who aren’t very bright.

With each lockup the canvas trembles below,

Poet dances with destiny, a maestro of this wrestling show.

His words become movements, his actions a lyrical ballet,

Every strike, a stanza unleashed, as emotions swirl and sway.

Reginald Dampshaw III, a champion in the ring,

His refined technique, like poetry, makes the audience sing.

With elegance and precision, he grapples with grace,

An artist of the mat, his opponents left in a daze.

Don Hendrix, a force to be reckoned with, fierce and wild,

His explosive power, like thunder, leaves his rivals beguiled.

With each devastating blow, the ring shakes with his might,

A gangster born, his presence ignites the darkest night.

The opponents stand, their eyes ablaze, ready for the fray,

Ryo Sakazaki, a teen who might wear eye shadow, they say.

Tatsuo Sakaguchi, a fence rider, a man who just wants to please,

And Brody, a surfer, who brings his father to his knees.

Poet weaves through the chaos, his words etched on his skin,

Every grapple, every hold, a narrative that unfurls from within.

He tangles with Sakazaki, a man with fear etched on his face,

Each movement, each hold, are as lines on time and space.

Dampshaw dances with Sakaguchi, their styles intertwine,

A duet of strength and technique, a battle so divine.

Hendrix clashes with Brody, a clash of warriors, earth-shaking,

Their collision, an epic verse, a poetic language for the taking.

The match unfolds, emotions explode, the crowd are on their feet,

As Poet and his partners refuse to admit defeat.

Their unity, their resilience, a cacophony of will and might,

Against the odds, they fight, their hearts burning bright.

The final bell tolls, the dust settles, the air electrified,

Poet and his allies stand tall, their spirits magnified.

In this epic clash, where Poet dominated just fine

They emerged as victors, their victory, a tale for all time.

So let the echoes of their battle resonate in the night,

Poet, Dampshaw, and Hendrix, their spirits shining bright.

In this grand wrestling tapestry, where intensity unfurled,

They etched their names in history, as champions of the world.

Poet slowly closes the leather bound book, leaving it sitting on his lap. He picks up the glass and takes another sip before looking down the camera.

“Last week was what I would call an ‘upset’. Next week, we are going to take you three and embarrass you in front of every fan in attendance and every fan watching at home. It’s time for Poet to earn that respect…”

And with that, the scene fades to black…

Alyssa Grace, The Banshee, Elijah Hampton, 'Don' Hendrix, Remington Ivory Prescott and Chad Ecclestone have spoken. It’s such good shit!

CLASH PROMO 1 June 3rd 2023, 5:22 am by **Christopher Sabertooth**

The feed begins with photos and videos of young Christopher Sabertooth. Photos have him as a young child dressing like his favorite wrestler, Black Scorpion. Photos of him with his family when everything seemed right.

What If…

What if my life had been different? Would I have become the man I am today? Would I be in a worse position? Would the world even care about Christopher Sabertooth? Questions that I always ponder upon. My life has been a rollercoaster ride to say the very least.

So I ask myself… What if I wasn’t forced to move out of my parent’s house when I was sixteen with nothing in my pocket and a dream to become a professional wrestler? What if I had gotten the support of my family when I needed them the most? Would I still wind up on a path of self-destruction that nearly cost me my life? Or perhaps I would have listened to my father and pursued amateur wrestling seriously and represented my country in the Olympics. Gold medal or not, my life would have been very different. I would still be able to talk to my family without harboring any sense of betrayal or hatred. I wish my father told me how proud of me he was. I wish my mother tried a little harder to maintain contact with her only son. Not having the support system of your family does weigh down upon you. I was used to dealing with my emotions all by myself. Eventually, it was my emotions that got the better of me and made me vulnerable to the power of Havoc.

The family photos are replaced with that of his childhood best friend, O’Shea. There are videos of them cheering on their favorite wrestlers in front of the television screen. Photos of them play-fighting. Constantly being around each other, living their lives to the fullest. Not knowing of the dark future that awaited them.

What if I never asked O’Shea to help me?... There are plenty of innocent people that are locked up in prison for crimes they never committed. Yet, people don’t talk about them. Nobody gave them a second chance. Nobody was able to prove their innocence. Why was I given that chance? When I was charged with murder early on in my life, I accepted fate. Maybe I wasn’t meant to be a wrestler. Maybe damaged goods like me didn’t deserve to live their dreams in the open. I had given up. But O’Shea-- My best friend. The man I shared the goal of becoming a wrestling champion with…. He fought for me. He couldn’t achieve the dream of stepping into the squared circle-- He had bills to pay. A family to care for. He became an honest police officer. When the world didn’t believe in my innocence, O’Shea gave me hope. My family didn’t reach out. But O’Shea never stopped fighting. He gathered all the proof that he could find. He even found out who the real culprit was. Unfortunately, in his pursuit to find justice for his friend, he lost his life.

I owe my freedom to him. He fought for me just so I could make the dreams we shared as a child, a reality. What if I never got him involved? He would still be alive. Probably have his own family by now. I miss him every day.

O’Shea slowly fades away as we now see a young Christopher Sabertooth squaring up in the ring against The Punisher, Jacob Senn. There is an air of confidence surrounding Sabertooth as he locks up against the legend. Contrasting to the look of utter defeat as Jacob Senn has his hands raised in victory with the Omega Heavyweight Championship in his hand. An image awfully similar to that of Aria Jaxon celebrating her win over Sabertooth, who found himself in the same position. The top championship is out of his reach.

What if Christopher Sabertooth won the Omega Heavyweight Championship? At the first Clash of the Titans, I had the unique opportunity to start my rookie year in OWA with a bang. I faced the great Jacob Senn and pushed him to his limits. But experience shined through because when shit got rough, Senn knew exactly how to get out of that situation. He thrived under the pressure and beat me. There was a lot of hype surrounding my name heading into that match. I beat Gareth Cason’s unstoppable run as Television Champion. Things were looking up for me. But losing to Senn crashed the so-called hype train around my name. While I was still prominent in OWA, my mind started playing games with me. I became just another member of the roster. I could win all the matches on Olympus or Kingdom… But when it came to the biggest stage, I always crumbled under the pressure. I couldn’t beat Senn. I couldn’t beat Aria. What if I had done that? Would Havoc still have found an opportunity to take over my body and leave this company in disarray for years to come? Would my legacy be different from what it is today? Just like the Arata we have today, I am sure there’s another world where this Christopher Sabertooth is a happy multi-time world champion, possibly already retired because he achieved everything he ever wanted. Am I jealous? Fuck yeah. I wish I was that guy. I wish I could be satisfied with what I have done. I wish I could be happy in life.

What appeared to be the right thing to do at that time led me down a path of hardships and misery. There’s a world where Christopher Sabertooth made a name as an Olympic Gold Medalist before heading into the world of professional wrestling with that much more credibility. There’s a world where I have my family, O’Shea, and everybody that I have lost before by my side, cheering me on as I achieve the greatest accomplishment in this business. But that’s not my life. That’s not the road I took.

If that Christopher Sabertooth ever finds his way into this world, I would happily let him end my life and take my place--- Because at least this version of me gets to experience what happiness feels like. At least he gets to share that happiness with the people he cares about the most. But I don’t get a chance to wipe away all the horrible things as Arata did. I don’t get to just replace my whole existence with a perfect version of myself. These what-ifs can really fuck you up in hindsight because there are a lot of things I WOULD have done differently. There are a lot of people that I wish were still in my life. There are a lot of accolades I wish I had under my belt-- But I don’t get to wipe the slate clean. I have to live with the consequences of my actions. I have to accept this horrible, broken version of myself. The kid that dreamed about becoming the biggest star in wrestling died long ago. Even when I try to be that kid, my past comes back to haunt me. So there’s no point any longer to live my life with regret.

The feed fades away as the camera zooms out to reveal Christopher Sabertooth, sitting by himself watching his life projected in front of him through photos and distant memories.

In the coming week, I have a chance of doing something that I haven’t done before in OWA. Something I am constantly reminded of every day by my opponents. The championship under my name was never mine, to begin with. It doesn’t matter what the history books say, because there will always be an asterisk next to it. This is the closest thing to a reset I will ever get. My only chance of wiping away Havoc’s name from being attached to my legacy in OWA. Not everybody gets a clean slate like Arata did. All his evil deeds were wiped away in an instant. This Arata apparently had the same accolades as our evil Arata did. Convenient, to say the least. And somehow, he was the only one able to escape his world. Sure, Arata has talked about this before but we can’t do anything but take him for his word. He talks about how everybody else around him died-- After gaining immense power, why didn’t he try to fight back? He left his world in chaos. Though, I am kinda jealous that he gets to keep every positive accomplishment that Arata had without dealing with the consequences of the terrible things he did.

What if this new Arata isn’t who we think he is?... That being said, I am not accusing Arata of lying to us. I am sure some terrible things happened that made him leave his world and come here instead. And I thank him for stopping our Arata and helping me save Hana. But unlike him, I don’t get to say that Havoc’s reign as the OWA World Champion was mine as well just because he used my body as a vessel for his tyranny. Not in good faith. I don’t get to reap the benefits of Havoc’s dominance around the world that led to multiple championships. Neither do I want to. Havoc used my dream of becoming the biggest star in wrestling against me. He helped me win these championships just so he can hold that against me. For the longest time, it worked. Because whenever I tried fighting back, he would remind me of how helpless I was without him. He would remind me of how I felt when Jacob Senn or Aria Jaxon held the top championship over my fucking head as I lay on the canvas. If it wasn’t for Havoc, I’d probably go down as a one-time Television Champion. In the grand scheme of things, with all the hype around my name, I’d be a bust. Someone who failed to live up to the expectations. I’d be the Ben Simmons of OWA… Shit, I’d be Nate Cage.

I am sorry, Nate. But the only Cage that will ever be in the Hall of Fame is already in there. For good reason too. I don’t want to be remembered in the same breath as Nate Cage. It feels like I have done so much in OWA but I don’t have much to show for it. Nate and I entered this company around the same time. We ended up being a part of the same match in our first PPV here. The Ultimate X match to crown the first Spartan’s Champion. I came mere fingertips away from becoming champion but it wasn’t meant to be. I started to fall down the card. Be part of meaningless matches whilst Nate Cage got to be part of the hottest thing in wrestling. Wolvesden was the talk of the town while I did nothing of value on Friday Nights. My one meaningless Television title run ended in a month. Around this time, Jeff X stepped foot in OWA and went on to end year one of OWA with a Spartan’s Championship win on the biggest stage. What did I do? Watch Gareth Cason pull down the ATTH briefcase. My contemporaries had already overtaken me in the company. They were doing much better things while I couldn’t find my footing despite how hard I tried.

Of course, you can say I wasn’t as good as them. But I knew that wasn’t true. I could have the greatest match in the company’s history-- But when it came to winning the big one, I would stumble. Not because of a lack of skill. It was a mental blockade that I couldn’t get past. And I continued to stumble throughout my early career until Havoc jumped on the opportunity and promised me a different future. I was desperate to taste any success just so I could tell my old self that I made it. That every road that I took in my life was worth it. I wanted to tell O’Shea one day when I met him that I did everything we had fucking talked about as kids! I wanted to be someone I wasn’t ready to be yet. I am sure Nate feels that way himself. What if he didn’t disappear every two months? Maybe he would be a bigger deal. Maybe he would actually be who he thinks he is! A bonafide star… like his sister.

Speaking of a bonafide star, we get to Chad Ecclestone. He has every trait needed in a person to be a Hollywood megastar. He’s a cunt. A self-righteous douche. Borderline racist. And an extremely punchable face. For someone who acts for a living, he hasn’t done a good job pretending to care about this business. I can tell just by the way he carries himself that Chad cannot wait to be out of the arena every week. He despises this business. Why do something you hate so much? But then again, there are people that actively watch Chad Ecclestone movies. A setting like the Clash will make Chad wish he was back in Hollywood with a stunt double doing the hard work for him. This match requires endurance. It’s a test of willpower. Honestly, his fans would do a better job than him because they sit through his movies and don’t want to kill themselves. Ecclestone is in this business out of necessity. It’s his last hurrah. His glory days are behind him so he’s trying to find any business that would take him in and keep him under the limelight. The wrestling world isn’t picky.

But… I can’t be mad at someone bringing more eyes to this business. We need people like Chad in wrestling. Someone who can keep the fans entertained with their mediocrity. Though, the wrestling world gives something back to him by gaining more audience for his shitty movies. He should be happy! In this day and age, free speech is an excuse to platform fucking assholes like him. Chad is wrestling’s Andrew Tate. A terrible fucking human being that says and does dumb shit in a somewhat entertaining manner. Chad’s run in OWA is like a trainwreck you can’t look away from. Just like his Hollywood career, he peaked early. The Spartan’s championship is as far as he goes as a make-believe wrestler. Two years of training cannot compete with a lifelong passion that some of us wrestlers share. It’s weird that more controversies have popped up from the moment Chad entered this business. It’s almost like he made a career out of being a controversial dickhead. So… I ask myself. What if Chad Ecclestone actually cared about wrestling? He’d still be fucking trash.

I don’t think I will ever see Chad eye to eye about this biz. We’ve had completely different upbringings. Different struggles. But someone I can relate to is Noah Kreiger. The man who beat Chad Ecclestone for the Spartan’s title. I see a little bit of my younger self in him. There’s hunger in his eyes to succeed. He’s got the passion. The energy to match it. I can’t hate someone that tries as much as he does to succeed. He’s still relatively new to this business and has shown his love for it with every match he has. The complete opposite of Chad. And the result of their match wasn’t a surprise to me because someone like Noah would always overcome a fraud like Chad Ecclestone. Noah also pulled off an incredible victory leading up to Clash against Theo, Goose, and me. Catch Hound has the number advantage and the momentum heading into the Clash. Right? But who is Noah teaming with? Myojin? A serial betrayer who has only ever cared for themself? Or the glory hog Arthur Wakefield? That man hasn’t helped us for a second ever since he arrived here. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, we don’t need Finn Jr. in the world of wrestling. God forbid anything ever happens to the original, we’d give him a call. But right now? He’s just a diet Finn Wakefield with half the talent. Kreiger is the only one in that group that I trust to succeed.

That being said, it puts me in a weird situation. It’s something I dealt with against Theo before. I see the talent in that person and I know they will be important to the future of this business. A big win like the Clash would be everything for the early career of Noah Kreiger… Unfortunately, I have to be a little selfish. The younger generation has all the time they need to succeed. Besides, Kreiger is already doing well for himself. I am sure he’d have a marquee match-up at Final Destination for the title he possesses. Concentrate on what you already have. You don’t want to lose focus and end up with no belts… like me. For the longest time, I haven’t thought about championships. I was too busy trying to fight Gods and Demons that threatened this world’s safety. I wanted to bring my wife back home before I could ever think about competing seriously again. I got Hana back. Evil Arata is gone. Havoc has been trapped behind the gates of hell. And my best friend didn’t have to sacrifice himself for me… again. With a clear mind, I have only one goal ahead of me. Erase the name of Havoc from my legacy. Just thinking about everything he did hurts me beyond anything one could imagine. But we finally won. Yet, the job isn’t over. People will continue to associate his name with mine. And the only way I could fix that is if I was selfish this one time. I NEED the OWA World Championship. I NEED to redeem my name for everything that has happened. I NEED that reset button that I never got because of the constant threat of demons and Gods in my life. I wanted to live a normal life but my life has been anything but that. It has had more ups and downs than Chad Ecclestone’s Hollywood career.

So, I have to step over upcoming talent like the Catch Hound. Hell, as much as I hate him, you can throw Raivo in that mix. His ability in the ring is undeniable. I can’t get over the fact that he still brags about beating Jeff and me for the tag titles. Conveniently glossing over the fact that I was fucking DEAD before the match was over, which had nothing to do with FTM. I am sorry that Jeff cared more about the death of his best friend than a piece of gold! Raivo should ask himself a question. What if Havoc never showed up that day? Murder Inc. would still be the tag team champions. We sure as shit wouldn’t lose to the Seventh Ward. Those battered fucks aren’t who they used to be. The Darkane I knew said fuck you to the world and won the Clash of the Titans. Not sit at home during the most important match in OWA’s history.

Is it just me or does DT seem to care a lot more about the tag title loss than Raivo did? I get it. It’s weird that we pretend DT is some upcoming talent when he’s at the tail end of his career. It just took him a while to get here and he’s done well for himself so far. But let’s not act like Raivo and DT are going to run this show in the future when retirement is already knocking on DT’s door. Raivo sees that and realizes he’s got a better chance in the Clash than DT does. While DT would have loved to cling onto those tag titles for as long as he could, the end of their reign perhaps marks the end of DT the Ruler’s dominance in OWA. He doesn’t want to lose his golden goose now. Raivo is his ticket to a long time of relevance. I wouldn’t be surprised if DT put on his finest suit and stayed as Raivo’s manager just so he can still be associated with a promising act for the future. DT is here to make money. That’s all it is. FTM is a great cause and all but their actions go against everything the movement is about.

Raivo is all about himself. It’s just convenient for him to have a brute like DT and Maggall around him to do the heavy lifting. When Raivo said that he wouldn’t be upset no matter what happens at Clash as long as a member of the FTM won. He’s either lying or doesn’t have the killer instinct to pull off a victory like the Clash. Either way, it doesn’t look good for Raivo and the FTM. Cracks have started showing up already. Who do you think Raivo blames for the loss of the tag championships? Do you think he sees himself as an issue? Do you think he takes equal blame as a team player would? Raivo was fighting till the last second despite everything he had been put through while DT just wouldn’t stand back up. He was done for. Raivo had to fight the Seventh Ward by himself at the end and it wasn’t enough. Do you think Raivo appreciates being left alone at that instant? I don’t think so.

And while I was shit-talking the Seventh Ward for sitting out of this Clash, maybe FTM should have done the same. Because their bodies don’t look the same. All those cuts and bruises and concussions. That’s not something that heals in two weeks' time. DT, as the veteran of the group, should have called it off. He should have thought about Raivo’s future in this business. Unlike DT, Raivo still has a lot to give. In a way, I commend the fighting spirit at display but it’s nothing more than stupidity in the long run… That is what I would have said. But I respect FTM for the warriors they are… Though I still hate their fucking guts for even siding with the monsters, to begin with. I have a personal vendetta against Raivo. I don’t wish ill upon anybody but I am willing to make an exception for Raivo. I don’t want to see him win. I just don’t. And if that means I have to personally put my dreams on the line just so I can shatter his into fucking pieces… Then I will.

I don’t think people get it yet. Everybody is talking about this big opportunity. They display their passion and hunger to win the OWA World Championship. But I am fighting for something a lot bigger. I am fighting for my name. For my legacy. For my future family to come. I am fighting to erase the demons of my past that haunted my very existence. I am fighting for Hana. I am fighting for Jeff. I am fighting for ANYBODY that ever believed in Christopher Sabertooth. I have had plenty of regrets in my life-- I am not about to add another one to this list.

Stark is a fucking mad man for accepting the challenge. Though I am not sure it was much of a choice. He managed to escape with the title at OWA5 against some of the best to ever do it. That’s all he did. Escape. But at Clash of the Titans… There is no fucking escape. His hubris has made him believe that he’s untouchable. Wanting to come out at number 2 against Arata. Wanting to go the distance to prove his greatness. He’s made decisions that will cement his position in the annals of history. But all he did was sign away his only chance at that. His ego got the better of him. Now, this match will be his downfall. The end of his reign.

Close your eyes and ask yourself…

What if Christopher Sabertooth wins the Clash of the Titans to become the OWA World Champion?

In a week… That becomes a reality.

Scott Oasis, Arata Asakura, Alyssa Grace, Mami's Favorite Chew Toy, Elijah Hampton, 'Don' Hendrix, Remington Ivory Prescott and have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos June 2nd 2023, 5:46 pm by **Brody**

Moda Center (Portland, OR)
Sunday, 21^st May 2023
8:30 pm (PST)

“Look up,” said the doctor, carefully observing Brody’s eye movement. “Down. Left. No, the other way. And right.”

A malevolent orchestra was thrashing a discordant symphony within the confines of his skull. The relentless pounding was like the steady throb of a drum, punctuated by piercing cymbals reverberating through his senses with sinister intensity. This felt like something other than victory.

“Look into the light, please.”

The last he could remember was the bell. Shrill violins cut through the murky haze of his consciousness like jagged knives tearing through flesh. Again, all he could remember was the bell.

“Looks like a concussion,” she said after examining Brody’s pupils. “I won’t let KD and Jaywalker book him for the Clash in this state.”

“Please, doc, I’ll be fine,” he pleaded with weary pretense. “Just give me the go-ahead, and you can withdraw me if I’m not right in time.”

“Just like the rest of ‘em,” she muttered under her breath before nodding approval to a staff member, who quickly left the treatment room. “Is there anyone that can drive you back to the hotel?” she asked while scribbling on the chart.

“Uber.”

“Hmm, I’ll send a staffer to check on you in the morning. Get plenty of rest, take on lots of fluids, and next time,” she glanced up to meet Brody’s gaze. “Don’t accept a handshake from someone who said they would take pleasure in hurting you. Especially after you’ve just embarrassed them in front of a sold-out crowd.”

Brody smiled sheepishly as he slid off the cushioned bed, steadying himself on a portable table. The metallic surface felt hollow and cold.

"Here, these should help with the headache," she thrust forward a small, brown bottle of pills. “Instructions are on the label. And give me a call if you experience any nausea or brain fog over the next few days. Other than that, I’ll see you in Baltimore.”

“Thanks, doc,” he said, reaching for the bottle.

"Remember," she cautioned, refusing to let it go. “Trust is a luxury one can ill afford in this industry. Most of the wrestlers who come through here are real pieces of work. You seem like a good kid, so get wise fast, or next time you might not be so lucky.”

“Don’t worry; I can take care of myself.”

“Evidently,” she replied wryly after finally letting go of the bottle and ushering him towards the door.

As Brody walked gingerly through the bowels of the arena, several members of the OWA staff smiled encouragingly at him. He happily obliged when others requested photos, squinting through sensitive eyes as the cameras flashed. Just two hours earlier, management appeared frustrated after being called down to verify Brody’s identity with these people because he had forgotten his credentials. Now, they were congratulating him and organizing a company car to the hotel. He swallowed two pills with a glug of water from an ice-cold bottle in the back of the vehicle as it peeled out of the parking lot. The bitter taste lingered on his tongue.

The Nines Hotel (Portland, OR)
Monday, 22^nd May 2023
10 am (PST)

The pills took effect soon after he got back to his room, sending him into a restful sleep. He woke to the midmorning light, gentle and golden, caressing his eyelids, coaxing them to pry open. While the pain remained, his mind was now calmer. Finally, he could remember what happened. The cheap shot when he had let his guard down, and the kick to the head after another weird poem. He reached across his bedside table for the pills, popping two more and swigging an entire 40-ounce bottle of water. A trip to the bathroom proved he was still a little unsteady on his feet, but he was feeling more himself.

It took a while for him to check his phone. He was actually enjoying the mundanity of another Monday morning, given his experience the night before. “Fifty thousand people chanting your name might make you happy for a while, but if you ain’t happy doing the regular shit, then you’ll always be left feeling empty,” he thought. Wyatt’s words had gotten through to him. They were actually intended for his older brother when he left for college on a football scholarship. Brody listened more than he let on, however. When he eventually checked his phone, he saw dozens of missed calls from his dad, as well as a slew of notifications on social media. As he scrolled through them, the phone began to buzz.

“Hey, Pops.”

“Brody,” his tone was stern.

“Listen, I know what you’re gonna say. I fucked up and took my eye off the ball. It won’t happen again.”

“Ok.”

“Ok? That’s it?”

“Yeah, you did well,” said Wyatt, his tone softening. “You looked a little outgunned at first but found a way to win. You just let your guard down for a second and got punished for it. Incredibly fucking stupid, but if you say it won’t happen again….”

“It won’t. Trust is a luxury one can ill afford in this industry.”

“Well said,” Wyatt seemed pleasantly surprised. “Anyway, I just got off the phone with Kevin Devastation and Jaywalker. It seems you’ve been booked in a three-man tag team match for Clash of the Titans.”

“So, I’ll have to trust two other guys at least a little?”

“I thought you just said you won’t let your guard down again?”

“But they’ll be my teammates….”

“And?”

“Aren’t teams built on trust?”

“Not exactly a normal fucking workplace, yours, is it, though?”

“I guess not.”

“Right,” Wyatt said firmly. “Your partners will be Ryo Sakazaki and Tatsuo Sakaguchi.”

“Whoa, you just made a bunch of sounds there. How many people was that? Four? Five? I thought you said this was a three-man tag?”

“You’re going up against Reginald Dampshaw III, Brandon Hendrix, and Poet.”

“Fuckin’ yeah, dude!” Brody erupted with glee. “I’m gonna kick his fuckin’ ass, bro. Fuckin’ punk ass bitch. He was super oily, though. Like, hands down, the greasiest motherfucker I’ve ever laid hands on. Maybe I should wear gloves or something.”

“Remember, there are five other people in the match.”

“Yeah, of course. Like that dude from the movies. Don't worry, I got this.”

“The movies?”

“Yeah, the dude with the fucked-up hands who becomes a wizard. Dr. Weird, or something.”

“Are you talking about Benedict Cumberbatch?”

“That’s the one. Yeah, he's gonna be tough.”

“You’re fighting Reginald Dampshaw, not Benedict Cumberbatch.”

“That’s not the same dude?”

“Nope, although I imagine both families have a rich history of high-ranking officers in the British army whose nicknames were things like The Butcher of Bengal or White Death. Either way, Reggie is the current Icarus champion, so it could be quite a scalp if you can pin him.”

“And he’s definitely not the wizard dude?”

“Not even Benedict Cumberbatch is the wizard dude,” Wyatt’s frustration began mounting. “The fucking wizard dude is a character played by a fucking actor. Listen, you need to concentrate here because you can sure as shit expect some fuckery. Both Dampshaw and Hendrix are in the Tres Comas Club led by KD and Jaywalker, and they showed last night that they’ll get involved if they have to. Although you might get some help from The World’s Finest.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” said Brody, trying desperately to make sense of the situation. “I have no idea what any of those things are. Did all this happen last night?”

“Yeah, some bullshit went down in the main event. I suggest you watch it, but KD tried to engineer a victory for his son.”

“Who’s his son?”

“Err… Allesandro Devastation?”

“Wait, Kevin Devastation and Allesandro Devastation are related? What the fuck?”

“Well, yeah, isn’t it obvious? They go by the name Devastation, for fuck’s sake. How many people do you know named Devastation?”

“Just two, I guess.”

“Exactly, so keep your wits about you. They might be distracted by other matches, but there’s no way they’ll let two of their boys lose to a team with Ryo Sakazaki.”

“Who’s that?”

“Jesus fucking Christ, you fucking imbecile.”

Wyatt hung up, leaving Brody looking wistfully toward the snow-capped peak of Mt. Hood in the distance. A journey into nature struck a blissful chord. “Maybe tomorrow,” he thought better of it. “Because right now, I need some fuckin’ food.”

Mt. Hood National Forest
Tuesday, 23^rd May 2023
12:30 pm (PST)

In the verdant realm, resplendent in the warm spring sunlight, a silent war raged. Ethereal warriors, vying for a most coveted commodity, reached toward the heavens, striving to outcompete all other challengers. They stood toe to toe, endeavoring to claim their rightful share of the divine energy, as they had for hundreds of millions of years. Meanwhile, the more modest took their place in the shade, fighting for whatever sliver of light managed to make it through the canopy. Like guerilla fighters, they learned to live in the shadows of the botanical battleground, feeding off scraps from the celestial giants. However, the relationship between trees and plants, much like the ecosystem of the OWA, is symbiotic. One cannot survive without the other. Legends once began as saplings, their roots protected by the debris of the undercard, allowing them to flourish within an intricate tapestry of mutualistic association. Some trees may wither and die, but new life is forged in their footprint. No matter how apt an analogy, the resemblance was utterly oblivious to Brody, who filled his lungs with fresh air while strolling through the lush Oregonian landscape. The abundant Douglas Firs emitted a sweet pine scent with delicate notes of citrus.

Still feeling some after-effects of the concussion, he ambled at a leisurely pace, basking in the natural beauty surrounding him. He thought about what lay in store for him at Clash of the Titans. Gone was the anxiety, doubt, and nervousness that plagued him before his debut match, vanquished by a burgeoning sense of equanimity. He always knew he had what it takes to win, but now that he had, any uncertainty that he belonged had been laid to rest.

A three-man tag team match was not what he had imagined for his pay-per-view debut. Especially one that was in the crosshairs of a war between rival factions. He had watched how events unfolded on Olympus since speaking with his father, and while he found it entertaining, he felt it had nothing to do with him. He even wondered if Poet felt the same way. Nevertheless, he was happy to fight in any scenario to raise his profile within the company. And to get another shot at a man he now actively disliked. Before they faced each other, Brody struggled to feel any animosity toward Poet. He was just another new guy trying to make his way. He thought they would fight, there would be a winner, and they would go their separate ways. Maybe that would have happened had his opponent scored the win. A clean win, mind. In that case, Brody would have been content to move on to the next match. It is the nature of the business, after all: you win some, you lose some. Seeking revenge for a bruised ego seemed pathetic to Brody, although it was clearly not beneath Poet. What Brody was feeling went a bit beyond a bruised ego, however. Certain actions demand consequences, and he could never let this lie.

“If you can meet with triumph and disaster and treat those two impostors just the same,” he remembered his dad reciting once.

The craven deceit proved to Brody that Poet is unworthy of the respect he desperately craves. Maybe that is how you earn fear. But not respect. Perhaps that is what Poet truly wants: to be feared. Insecure minds often confuse the two.

Brody continued walking until he reached his rental car. The blazing sun had turned the inside into an inferno, so he started the engine and blasted the air conditioning before getting in. He took in the scenery one last time, knowing that tomorrow morning he was flying to Baltimore, and all he would see until after Clash of the Titans would be the inside of a gym.

Alyssa Grace, Remington Ivory Prescott, DT The Ruler and Chad Ecclestone have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos June 2nd 2023, 11:07 am by **Mami's Favorite Chew Toy**

Location: Allesandro's Private Jet, US Air Space
Time: 1:00 P.M.
Date: 6/1/2023

When a Dream is Stolen…

(We open up to Allesandro Devastations private jet. He sits in solace as his assistant brings him a glass of red wine and then begins to go over the newest stock options. Allesandro sits and listens and enjoys his wine. Eventually he holds his hand up to stop her as he sits the glass down and then brings his hands in front of his face, threading his fingers together in silence and contemplation. He eventually smirks.)

“She thinks she has won. That stupid mongrel bitch thinks she has beaten me and has me backed in a corner in this dog collar match. Oh Stephanie how wrong you are. Oh I will make sure the streets of Baltimore have to wash your filthy blood off the streets! You have awakened something deep and dormant in me, something that should have stayed away when I came back. When we land in South Dakota make sure the team knows I have a different direction for what I want broadcasted, a few rewrites I will make. Hand me a notepad and a pen if you would.”

(Allesandros assistant hands him a notepad and pen, as he begins to write some things down. His eyes look to become even more maddening as he goes, making his assistant feel uneasy as she helps where she can. The scene fades to black.)

Location: Mount Rushmore, South Dakota

Time: 4:30 P.M.

Date: 6/1/2023

OWA Promos - Page 4 27xp-mount-rushmore-pix-superJumbo

…A Tyrant always finds reason for his Tyranny.

(We open at Allesandro Devastation standing at the ready, overlooking below him from atop Mount Rushmore. He stands atop the heads of the four men etched in stone below him, looking out to the masses of people sightseeing, and the nature around him. Allesandro takes a deep breath and looks directly ahead..)

“You stood in the way of the Dream Stephanie, you and your “Worlds Finest”. You have proven that even with a two on one attack, even with a small army behind you. Old faces and new faces alike, that even then you stand no chance in putting me down. And yes, that does make a man like myself chuckle, because you stand there with MY BELT, and you act as if the war is over. You should realize this now you dog, I am a true American Legend at this point. And Americans never give up, and Legends never die! I promised all those people, all those patriots that I would have that belt back in our corner and I plan on taking it back from you once again. Because let's take a walk down memory lane Matsuda, let's stroll through the times when me and you have faced one on one. No matter the stipulation, no matter the arena, and no matter the year…The ending was always the same Stephanie. And you have to live with that knowledge. You have to live with the knowledge that even with your army, even with April…I still walked away from you, without having had my shoulders pinned to the mat. And without having been tapped out by you. So now we go right back to old times, and we have a good old fashioned war on PPV. Buy rates are through the roof already, and the people didn't even know when they bought the tickets that they would be seeing the public euthanization of one Mongrel named Stephanie Matsuda.”

(Allesandro chuckles again to himself. He walks away from the edge of Mount Rushmore and looks to the sky. He breathes a breath of that good American air in nature, and then runs his hand through his hair. Allesandro turns to the drone camera again and speaks..)

“This story of ours has transitioned companies, has transitioned years, and everything about it always comes back to one thing and one thing only. You have to be the superhero here Matsuda, you are an addict. YOU ARE A FILTHY DAMN ADDICT AND I AM TIRED OF IT!!! Every time you open up your mongrel little mouth you spew out nothing but a byproduct of your addiction here Stephanie. I am not always the bad guy here, I am not always some supervillain that wants to rule the world. Even in the movie Dreamlander, which is a great film coming out from Devione Productions, I am against evil. You live in a fantasy land Matsuda, this is reality…THIS IS MY REALITY!!!! And I plan on bringing you into it at The Clash. Nothing in this life is as important to me than making sure that not only these people, buy myself keep dreaming Stephanie. And while I even want you to have dreams, you want me gone for good. I even gave you a way to live forever on the big screen, yet you think I should be banished from the world. Tell me who the villain is there Matsuda? Tell me who seems wrong there…And tell me how you have to gather such a mass of people around you to do it. You are like a cult leader to those, signing them up for a war against the Deviones like this is a liberation effort, or a coup against Caesar himself. It’s sickening how you want the end of my family so publicly, after all the good we have done for the world, and all the good I have done for America alone. And something else I find sick here Matsuda is the fact you stand there, obsessed with me…and play the victim like nobody else I have ever seen in life. You had to come out of retirement? You had to insert yourself in my business once again? If this were not a sport in which we were assigned the same brand, I would have a restraining order against you Stephanie. You need to either seek help or be put down. Behavioral training is what you need, otherwise you just need to be put down like the sick dog you are. We don’t need that kind of toxicity in this country, we need to rebuild its values, not let the children know that as long as you say someone is evil it is true. Nor do we need a fool who dresses like a gang banger to be on our televisions to be the representation of us in any way like you do with your extreme ideals about me or my family and our demise. Once again, who sounds like the villain there Stephanie.. ”

(Allesandro rubs his brow .)

“But here I am, painted as the villain once again by you, having to play a role in this for YOUR fans. Fine, to get back our Dream I will plunge my hands into the filth Stephanie and I will do what you know me to do best, raise my hands above the fallen “hero” before me with the American Dream Championship and be the villain you so need me to be for your validation Matsuda. You want Tyranny at Clash of The Titans, consider it done Mutt..”

(Allesandro takes a breath and closes his eyes. As he opens them again, he has a smirk on his face and looks out to the people below again, and then side eyes the drone camera once again.)

“So listen here you mongrel, you want to take my dream? Possession may be 9/10ths of the law, but here in this world the only thing that runs a courtroom is not the social justice you seek mutt. The thing that runs this court in this land will forever be the judge. And I am that judge coming up at The Clash of the Titans mutt, I will judge your sorry soul and I will render a verdict with a collar around your neck like you deserve, like you deserved all those years ago when you tested my patience for the better part of a year mutt. But now this is where we are, after I have beaten you time and time again, with a collar around your neck and a chain in my hand to lead you to your euthanization at my hands. You may have a fighting spirit, but after a dog collar match with me you will only be a spirit mongrel. Enjoy your last few days not only as the keeper of MY title, but alive on Olympus. Hug your wife, make your last will and testament, and enjoy the sunrise a few more times. Because at Clash of the Titans, the sunset on YOUR CAREER, YOUR LIFE…happens at my hands mutt. It happens at the hands of The Dragon reborn. It happens at the hands of The Dream of a nation. But most importantly the ending you so never want to seek but will become your reality will happen at the hands of the REAL American Dream Champion of this company, the Owner of your Dreams, The Tyranny of Allesandro Devastation…”

(Alessandro Smirks that oh so familiar smirk from his past in Wrestleworld. He looks down at the people below with a look of utter disdain..)

“And these people below me Matsuda, they represent you, they represent the masses who would dare look upon faces of glory like myself, like the presidents who I stand above now and forever, and they would rather cheer for you. They've been poisoned by you mongrel, and are as good to my America as a pile of dirt is to a plucked flower. No matter how hard they try to rally behind you, no matter how much energy you drain , and no matter how much you try and replant yourselves in their lives Stephanie Matsuda, the dirty mutt that rolls in that dirt that you are, that flower will die. Because once taken away, once shown to the world for what they are, a flower begins to wither and die. Just like you, you are the idiot that plucked yourself from the garden and whored yourself around to them though. So that says something about you, and then you sit around in that dirt and cozy up next to them. But the clock is ticking until you wither up and die Matsuda, and the last days are before you. Because I am like the sun, when I arrive everything gets brighter, everything gets a little bit warmer around me. But at the same time we both know how harsh the sun can be when it burns brightest. And I am rising again, and the air around you is warmer, and you can feel the burning starting to commence. I can feel it, and it does mean one thing to me and one thing alone. My reach is getting farther and wider like it once did, and while you can reach a few fans, and turn me into this Tyrant again even for one moment. I will be able to reach everything and everyone very soon, and spread the word of the peace of Allesandro Devastation, the words of a Dream kept by me for all of them to see. But they know not to look on for too long, because what happens when you stare at the sun for too long Matsuda? It will blind you where you stand. But you know what else the sun does mutt…Leave a flower out in straight sunlight for too long, it dries out too quickly, it wilts easier, and it dies at a faster rate. That is what I give to you Matsuda, a quicker death for your career than you want, or deserve for that matter. I offered you a chance to live forever, A gift from a Tyrant you despise, and instead you choose to die on your shield instead of holding your sword up forever. Only a decision a stupid dog would make, to keep fighting even though you know you will be and have been beaten the entire time. ”

(Allesandro chuckles and then begins to laugh loudly atop Mount Rushmore, maniacally like a mad tyrant who has lost the last of his sanity. He slows down, and then stops all together with a wild look in his eyes, and after blinking once he returns to a normal gaze. Allesandro Devastation walks away from the edge of the presidential faces and walks towards the limousine waiting behind him in the grass. The camera begins to fade as he walks towards it .)

“CUT!!! That was great Allesandro. I think we should do one more take though, add in more American spirit, we kinda went into the older version of what you were trying to do. Greek tyrant is out this year man, American Hero is in! Remember, The Dreamlander is no vill–”

(Camera feed picks back up as the scene is over ss Allesandro walks up to the man he grabs him by the neck, and begins to drag him closer to the faces of Mount Rushmore. He walks close to the edge clutching the smaller man, as he tries but can not break free. Allesandro finally stops at the edge and makes the man look down over it as he is scared out of his mind.)

“SIR PLEASE, I'M SORRY!! IT WAS GREAT, I DON'T WANNA DIE!!!”

“SHUT UP!!!! I don't want you to die, I want you to look over the edge and realize that these people down here have turned on ME. I came back, I showed them the love and adoration they wanted…I GAVE THEM A HERO TO BELIEVE IN AND THEY WOULD RATHER LIVE IN THE PAST WHERE STEPHANIE MATSUDA IS THE ONE WHO SAVES THEM. I AM THEIR SAVIOR, HELL I AM THEIR GOD!!!”

(Allesandro closes his eyes and breathes slowly, still forcing the man as close to the edge as possible. After a few deep breaths he opens his eyes again, and turns the man to face him as the man's back is to the edge of Mount Rushmore, high above the people below who probably don't even notice what is happening yet. Allesandro Devastation, the Tyrant that Stephanie Matsuda wanted here is back, staring a hole through the mongrel before him who dared to question his methods. .)

“...YOU THINK YOU CAN TEST ME, YOU THINK YOU CAN TELL ME THAT I NEED TO CHANGE, AND YOU THINK THAT I WON’T STOMP YOU BENEATH THE STREET BOY? I AM ALLESANDRO DEVASTATION, I AM THE OWNER OF YOUR DREAM, AND YOU ARE GONNA WAKE UP...WAKE UP JUST LONG ENOUGH TO SEE MY RIGHT FOOT COMING DOWN THROUGH YOUR FACE!!!...”

(Allesandro calms himself and smiles.)

“You see Marcus, I am not a bad man, nor am I a Tyrant like they say. I am just a man who wants to hold onto something for these people that they know they can not hold onto for themselves because they are not capable of doing so. All I am trying to do is hold that Dream I love so near and dear to my heart, close to my chest, as close as I can so it never slips away. Because when that dream that all Americans hold dear slips away from liberty, or the pursuit of true happiness and fairness across these lands…We all live in a nightmare Marcus. You don’t like nightmares, you don't want your two children at home to ever have the kind of nightmares where they fear for everything they own around them do you?”

(The man slowly shakes his head as Allesandro chuckles and brings his face in very close.)

“Then I suggest you realize how patriotic I really am here Marcus, because if Stephanie Matsuda gets her way, then the dream you have for you, your estranged wife, and your bastard children turns into a nightmare beyond all proportions you could ever think of. Now we shoot it my way, I am in charge here. And we broadcast the truth, and that truth is that Stephanie Matsuda is a false idol, a false American, and is not fit to hold that damn belt over me. I don’t care if I have to get her fucking deported and her wife incarcerated to get rid of them for good. I have the power and resources to do anything I want. So ask yourself Marcus…Am I the hero here? Was that patriotic enough for this? ”

(Allesandro shakes the man's head up and down for him as he looks very intimidated as this happens. Allesandro lets him go slowly and smiles at him. He puts his arm around his shoulder and begins to walk him away from the cliff edge and back to the production staff who all just stand around stunned as he begins to speak again.)

“...Everyone, Marcus here just helped me find my muse today. He is a good man, his wife and kids should be very proud of him, as should you all. I think we are done for today, it has been a great day for shooting, and it looks like a storm is rolling in. I would hate to see any of you hurt, take the day off and spend it with your families. Especially you Marcus, you've done great…”

(Allesandro pulls a cigar out of his suit jacket and cuts the end off as it falls on the shoes of Marcus the director. He lights it with his gold lighter, puts his cutter and lighter back in his inner jacket pocket and smokes the cigar and walks away with a smirk on his face as the camera pans to black.)

Matsuda, Alyssa Grace, Remington Ivory Prescott, DT The Ruler and Brody have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Clash of the Titans #1: Stoned in Rage June 1st 2023, 11:16 pm by **DarkCircle**

Location: Sleepy Hollow, NY

{The screen comes up and we see a large Victorian style house in Sleepy Hollow New York set against a well wooded area and the river, before the camera cuts to the shot of the backyard where we see Jacob Striker, dressed casually in a pair of blue jean shorts and a white tank top, standing in front of a chopping block and swinging the ax with a very practiced ease as a young woman with shoulder length black hair wearing a gray “Property of the Squires Wrestling Academy” and blue jeans}

Jacob: Hey you, when you’d finally get here?

Woman: A few minutes ago, I’ve been talking with the rents, the sibs, and Serenity. Mom and Dad have almost got the food ready and so Serenity sent me out here to make sure that you’re doing fine.

Jacob: Come on now, Jess. I have no wrestling dates before the Clash over in the OWA and I get to have a real family dinner with my family and my future wife, why wouldn’t I be okay?

{Jake cracks an honest smile before he picks up another piece of wood and then sets himself back to business, while Jess’ face takes on more teasing look}

Jessica: Yeah, hard to believe that you’re getting married in the future to the same woman that literally had you tongue tied from the very first moment that you stepped into Cloudy’s school all those years ago who is the same woman that you and Uri couldn’t beat for the tag straps over in World Wrestling Headquarters, big brother.

{Jake tosses his sister a “you’re shitting me” look that all siblings give each other at one point or another in their lives before he simply rolls his eyes in return before he goes back to chopping and then splitting the wood for a couple of seconds as his sister watches him before finally letting out a sigh and shaking her head}

Jessica: You’re dodging the question, Jake.

Jacob: And what question is that?

Jessica: Are you doing alright? I mean do I really got to chop things down for you to get my point across?

{Jake stops his work and fixes his little sister with a look which she ignores and continues on}

Jessica: You’re tearing shit apart across every promotion *but* the OWA, it’s like you’re in some kind of rut there or some shit like that…Seriously, it’s like watching you in New Frontier Wrestling all over again but at least the shit show that happened there wasn’t your fault.

So what gives? Do you think it’s because you’re a former student of Cloudy’s or some shit like that?

{Jake simply shakes his head and then slams the ax into the tree stump}

Jacob: I honestly don’t know. Maybe I’m coming across as too stiff or something like that, I know it’s not my work ethic because Damon had to have fucking Kenny Drake come out and help him get that victory.

Jessica: I think the stiffness might be a little bit of the problem.

Jacob: Really?

Jessica: Fuck yeah, I mean look at that promo that you cut in the ring over in Banch’s promotion. You didn’t hold anything the fuck back and what about those sick ones that you did over in Headquarters and One Wrestle?

I mean seriously, where is *THAT* Jacob Striker?!

Jacob: He’s in the OWA.

Jessica: Really?

Jacob: How about this, little sister. Instead of beating around the fucking bush, you actually go ahead and say what’s on your *mind*.

Jessica: Alright then, how about this…you’re being fucking too nice to those assholes!!

Jacob: Excuse me?!

{Jessica walks over to her brother and gets right into his face}

Jessica: Look, I get that you’re trying to show that Scott Oasis Mastodon that you’re capable of being trusted and shit because you hold his company in respect. I mean he trusted Stephanie enough to sign you with the OWT and got you your start in the industry…but you’re being too respectful to your opponents there and a lot of those guys don’t care about the ring being scared, all they care about is their bloody egos.

{Jessica then jabs a couple of fingers into her Jake’s chest, not giving the older man a moment to talk}

Jessica: It’s time for you to stop holding back and fucking just cut loose, I mean look at you did over in Wrestleworld before it shut down, Jake. You tore through people over there for a lot less of a reason than what your last few opponents deserve, seriously with the Clash right around the corner, you need to show them that if they want to fart around and not take you seriously, then you're going to take their jester asses and seal them up like was the Cask of Amontillado, Jake!

{The two siblings just stand there for a couple of moments before Jake starts to snicker followed by Jessica at which point the both of them just break down laughing hard with it being a few minutes before they stop due to a lack of being able to breathe}

Jacob: Seriously? You want me to be like Montresor and them all to be my Fortunado?

Jessica: Hey, it got the point across didn’t?

Jacob: Yeah, it did. Guess I just needed to hear from someone other than it bouncing around in my head. Thanks, Jess.

Jessica: Hey, be thankful it was me and not Serenity. She told me that she’s been trying to find a way to have the same “chat” with you that I just did and that’s when da suggested that she have me do it instead.

Jacob: Yeah know, our father can be a right bastard sometimes…but he’s right some of it.

Jessica: Come on then, let me help you carry some of that wood over to the grill so that we can get this going before its dark.

{The screen then fades out as the two start going about and gathering said wood}
=================================

{The screen fades back in to show us Jacob Striker on the shore of the lake next to his house, his arms crossed over his chest as looks over the lake for a few seconds before turning to face the camera}

Jacob: Before I even touch on the Clash, I have to know something and that something is JD, just how freaking ignorant a dumb ass are you?

“Say your prayers”....”Eat your vitamins”?? Seriously that’s what you got when I explained to you what I’d been taught about the ring being sacred?

{Jake sadly shakes his head for a few seconds before he barks out some laughter, it is bitter and lacking of any real mirth as he regards the camera once more}

Jacob: No, what I tried to explain to you and failed because you lack the fucking common sense that God gave *anything* on this great, green Earth of ours is that I pride myself on being a wrestler…on being one of the most pure technical wrestlers on this company’s entire fucking roster and how I always seek to improve because by fighting the best, I become the best…but then again, you wouldn’t know anything about that because your sorry ass needed Kenny Drake to come and bail you out last week on Kingdom.

But it’s okay because showing technical wrestling to you is like reading Shakespear to a dog, you just don’t fucking get it and that’s alright, I mean it’s not your fault that your technically challenged and had to go whining for help from your mates…and I’ll tell you why it’s going to be fine because at the Clash, not only do I get my chance to out wrestle you, but I also get the chance to tear your little running mate Nate Cage apart as well.

But I want one thing to make it through that thick bloody skull of yours, JD. The next time that I step into the ring with you, I’m going to kick your head right off of your fucking body, and there won’t be a damned thing that Nate or Papa Kenny will be able to do to save you,

And that’s right, Nate, I didn’t forget your part in all of that mayhem last week. And I was always told by everyone in the War Room from Stephanie to Kevin and beyond that you were always the smart one, the clever one…but I wonder where all of that so called “intelligence” went when you decided to get involved in my match against JD…I had no interest in picking a fight with you yet, but since you just had to inject your sorry ass then consider it fair play when I bust yours wide open when I put my right foot down your fucking throat at the Clash this weekend, Nate.

{Jake stops and runs his hands through his hair for a moment, a wicked smile slowly creeping onto his face}

Jacob: Now this is my first Clash and I’m very much looking forward to it, not only because of the championship chance that it grants the winner…but because it gives me a chance to just fucking go nuts and cut loose for the first time since I’ve joined this promotion. Yes, I fully get that to try and settle scores in the midst of a match like the Clash, but that’s not going to stop me from enjoying paying back so many of the assholes that have tried to use me to get further in this industry without any beliefs that they *owe* the piper, and gentlemen come the Clash you’re going to be dealing with the worst possible thing in that match;

Somebody with a set purpose in mind.

And that purpose is *payback*.

And trust me when I say that I have seen the scope of who that I’ve got to face in that match ranging from some of my favorite past opponents like Myojin and Stark to complete asshats whose realities need to be checked like Krieger and Ravio…to those that I simply owe a fucking San Andres scale beating upon like Nate and JD.

But amongst all of these angels, demons, and War Doctors that will be a part of this match…there is one name that I’m actually thinking could be the dark horse of this match, and that’s you…Tyler Kulina. I’ve seen how hard you work and how much effort you put into your matches, be it singles or tag team, and I’ve got to say that I respect the game and I respect the hustle because you’re just like me in the aspect that we’re the last person that anyone expects to be the champion, the last person that they expect to have any real staying power and just like how some people have always said that they expect great things outta me…I’m seeing that in you, kid.

But don’t take this the wrong way or as any form of disrespect, Tyler…but I’ve never seen you get out of that first gear of yours. I’ve never seen you just turn that engine on and rev it up to speed down that raceway…no, as much as I hate to say it, but I think that you’re trying to drive safely this early in your career…but then again, it might just be because you haven’t found the right *opponent* yet, true?

{Jake stops for a moment and then starts to pace back and forth, all the while starting to talk once again}

Jacob: I hate to say it, but my sister was right when she said that I need to stop and just cut loose…and at Clash, that’s exactly what I’m going to do because while some of you are seeing my name on that list of wrestlers and thinking that I’m some kind of joke, how funny do you think it’s going to be when I’m the one who eliminates your chances…when the person that you’ve only assumed was a stepping stone becomes the one stone that crashes through everything and demolishes your chances at coming out the winner?

I don’t know exactly, but I do know that in the end…after this stone is done rolling for that night, you’re going to be looking at the twenty twenty three Omega Wrestling Alliance Clash of the Titans winner.

And even if I don’t win, I’ll still be able to walk away with the smile on my face that I’ve at least smashed some of your dreams.

See you soon, boys.

{Jake then gives the camera one last smile, a rather nasty…wolfish smile…before he walks away as the camera fades to black}

Scott Oasis and Alyssa Grace have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos June 1st 2023, 9:59 am by **Arata Asakura**

Clash of the Titans #2: Reign of Prosperity.

31.05.2023 Osaka, Japan

*Unimaginable amount of shit thrown from every side. It's something everyone expected, realizing Clash of the Titans was on the horizon. It has always been that time of the year, when nothing but hate could be heard. Especially since, this time there was a lot more on the line than usual. This year the main prize turned out to be the precious OWA World Championship. Hence, Arata had a strong feeling that individuals were becoming more cruel than usual. Shit talk was no stranger to him. It was part of this brutal industra, but there were those who didn't know where the line was. It seemed to them that they could say whatever they wanted, even if it broke socially accepted norms. It was irritating and sad at the same time. Those who clearly couldn't bite their tongue, didn't understand that the message they were sending wasn't just directed at their opponents. But also those who watched it, might feel attacked. It is a known fact that the wrong choice of words can hurt more than daggers. Therefore, Arata felt disgusted by the attitude of some people, but what could he do? It's not like they would change. If someone is a piece of shit, most of the time they will stay that way forever. Not to mention that, in the meantime he was struggling with some problems himself. Perhaps it was the mess related to Havoc, that kept his mind so busy, that he didn't pay much attention to it recently. However, now that he had a little more freedom, certain things were starting to bother him again. They were becoming completely unbearable and distracting. Despite this, the Japanese man always tried to concentrate and control his emotions. The thing is, it wasn't easy. Sometimes he felt downright helpless, but on the other hand he couldn't give up. He just had to get through it, like he used to do it. Though, there were days like this, when he felt way too fragile. At that point, having faith in yourself wasn't enough.*

*Hana has been trying to contact Arata for the past few days, but he was not answering his phone, or replying to messages. The girl slowly began to worry, so she went to Osaka to check if everything was okay with him. She had always believed that Arata was responsible enough to give a sign of life. That's why unpleasant thoughts began to appear in her head, especially since the last time they talked, he seemed to be quite nervous. After the girl did not find him at home, she went straight to one of his Dojos. She didn't know where to look, but she had no choice but to make a guess. As it turned out, Hana was very lucky. As soon as she entered the building, she heard Arata's annoyed tone of voice. She started walking in the direction of the sound, then from a difficult angle, she saw a man energetically moving his hands and talking very emotionally to someone. She couldn't see that person, while standing in this position. Unsure of what to do, Hana just watched the unexpected situation.*

"Why? Why the fuck do you have to come to me, when I can't afford to waste my time? Why the hell can't I focus on anything, but you? It's not fun. I'm tired of all of this. Will you ever stop interfering in my goddamn career, when I need it to bloom them most? Please, give me a break. Just one goddamn time, let me catch my breath. Just this one time, stop making me feel like I'm rotting inside. I just want some peace!"

*Arata's tone of voice lowered a bit. The man sat down on a chair and wiped his face with his hands. He looked very worried, at least that's what she could read from his expression.*

"It turns out, I'll probably never be able to have some peace, huh? Do I really demand tha much from you? Is it wrong, that I just want to relax for a while and not be flooded with hundreds of thoughts? Why do you have to make me absolutely hate myself all over again? Why do you make me feel like I want to tear myself apart...It annoys me...it hurts me...Sometimes I feel like you are not letting me live a normal life at all. Is this supposed to be some kind of amusement for someone? Because I don't laugh. There's nothing funny about what I've always been through with you. So just stop. Just get the fuck out!"

*Unexpectedly, Arata hit clenched fist against his thigh. Hana heard a bang, which turned out to be a door closing with a force.*

"What are you doing here, Hana?"

*Arata finally paid attention to her presence, and Hana almost froze in fear that she had interrupted something.*

"I'm sorry...I didn't mean to overhear anything. Are you okay?"

*The girl came closer and crossed the threshold of the room, but no one was there.*

"I don't want to talk about it. It's nothing...this conversation is over anyway."

*The man just glanced at the door that was leading outside.*

"Do you want something from me?"

*Still confused by the situation, Hana just shook her head.*

"No, we just haven't been able to contact you for a couple of days and I'm starting to worry. I know you don't have that thin skin, but there's been a lot of shit directed at you lately. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay."

"Thank you for your concern, but I am fine. I just wanted some time for myself. I needed to work on some specific things before Clash and I didn't want anyone to bother me. Since you are here, I can offer to go out for food in the afternoon, but for now I would prefer to be left alone."

*The Japanese lady understandingly nodded her head and fulfilled his wish. She was still concerned about what was happening with him, but she couldn't force him to talk. However, she was sure about one thing. It was something very bothersome for Arata, that he really didn't want to share.*

31.05.2023 Osaka, Japan

*After the girl left, Arata gave himself several minutes to catch his breath. From what he was able to deduce, Hana didn't see the person he was talking to. Which probably created hundreds of new questions, but gave him a way out, where he didn't have to explain certain things. Anyway, he didn't feel like he wanted to confide in anyone. Especially not now, and not like this. Surely there were better ways to approach this situation. After all, he didn't want anyone to pity him. Especially after Hana saw him in such a miserable state. For a moment, Arata thought he should just focus on training, but he didn't really feel like he wanted to move. That's why, he started looking through some social media and only just realized what the girl meant. In fact, a few people seemed to be especially after his ass, but all in all, it was nothing new. It's not like it was fully triggering him. At the same time, he was not completely indifferent to it either, because he hated ignorance. Therefore, being aware that he had no desire to do anything else anyway, he decided to speak up to the OWA Universe again. He wanted to make some things completely clear. Even if he thought he had done it before. Although, it probably didn't surprise him, that not everyone understood. It was sad, but in this world, stupidity is the most common disease.*

*The recording begins in the first Dojo that Arata has ever created. The camera catches the owner of this place, sitting on the ground, leaning against the wall. Behind him spreads a large symbol of a golden dragon, that has been like a signature for him over the years. The man is wearing a black long-sleeved blouse, shorts of the same color and white sports shoes. The Japanese man bends his legs in the knees and moves them closer to his chest. In this way, he leans forward and rests his forearms on his knees. At first, Arata has his eyes closed, but it soon becomes clear why he did this. The bright blue eye with the lotus symbol, immediately attracts all the attention. Since the war ended, the man had worn contact lenses all the time, so you could forget he even had them. A short, bitter laugh escapes Arata's lips, as he begins to speak.*

When I made my decision, I was aware that most people would not understand it. I was more than sure, you would accuse me of being a fool, because the truth is that, my choice is so fucking risky. That's why, I introduced you to my whole idea about starting from the number one spot. Well, the truth is that there is more than that, but I'm not going to talk about it today. Anyway, I simply don't see anything wrong with considering my choice as a terrifying solution, because I know that each of you sees it from your own perspective. You start to wonder what would happen if you were in my place? Would you consider it to be a blessing, or rather a cruel nightmare? For most people, this would be tantamount to losing the chance to even think about winning that match. But me? I don't feel like a loser in any way. The matter of the fact is, I am confident that I can win, even if I start from such a difficult position. Of course, it's very demanding, but is anything truly satisfying and pleasant if you don't have to push yourself to the limits? Understanding it really relies on what shoes you are in. I'm just used to being a hard worker. It's obvious to me that you have to give more than anyone asks for. This is how it is, when you want to keep on a valuable legacy like mine. I'm not even surprised that someone like you can't understand my decision, Chad. You just don't know what it means to work your ass off. A rich bitch boy, who had a silver spoon pushed so deep in his ass that is coming through your throat...will never understand someone who grew up in complete poverty. And unfortunately, even if I run away from this environment, some habits stay forever. But I don't complain about it if I am to be honest. Nothing wrong in being a hard worker. But you? You don't understand the concept of money and putting effort, because you've never had to think about what would happen if you didn't have enough of this. You always did the bare minimum, because you were used to not having to do anything. You never cared about becoming better, because you were told from a young age that you were perfect. And this made you so fucking delusional. Because of this, you cannot even distinguish reality from what has already been taken by the ghosts of the past.

For the past few months, I've been trying to convince everyone that, what I've been saying ever since I came here, is nothing but truth. Not to mention, that I contributed to saving many lives along with my friend from Frontline. Why would the Gaijin Killer humiliate himself like this and work with people he truly hated? As I've said many times, I know it could work well as the perfect cover. I realize it's the perfect scenario to fool everyone and stab them in the back, when they least expect it. But he wasn't like that, and after I've had a chance to look at his journals, I dare to say he would sooner kill himself than do that. But you don't have to believe me, Chad. We all know you're not quite in touch with reality, so I'm not surprised you find it so difficult. Though I also assume, that maybe you're just trying to provoke me. Good job, moron. But saying the same thing, as a thousand other people, doesn't make you special. It definitely won't make you stand from the crowd. Especially when there are some big names on this battlefield, including me, that your weak light can't dim. In a way, your stage persona is even intriguing, because at first glance you can see how fake you are. You are just a cunt and nothing will hide it. However for someone who ended up for a while in Hollywood, you don't know much about entertainment. So again, how we perceive certain things is individual, because we don't start from the same position. You haven't tasted Main Event gold yet. While I? I had ten of them, and the eleventh is at my fingertips. So why not make this special number, even bigger to me this time. Listen, Chad. i don't care only about result, I have that habit of mine that I concentrate on process as well. But it doesn't seem to bother you at all, when the two dots don't connect. You know, it is very 'nobel' that you have a foundation and donate money to children with issues. But your approach to it is reprehensible. Do you think money can compensate for all the contempt you have towards them? You have no idea how humiliating it is for them and their families to take something from someone, who treats them worse than trash. They do that only, because they have no other choice. I was poor for a big part of my life, so I can understand what they feel. You know..Being a snob and selfish dick is one thing, but why don't you value the other person's life at all? In fact, you're making all those kids in front of the TV, have the wrong idea. If they're somehow different, they'll not be treated as equal human beings...that's the message you're giving them. And being different is not a bad thing, sometimes those differences turn into some kind of uniqueness. But what should I expect from someone who is nothing more than a cunt and white supremacist? What is even more funny....you are calling me racist? Bitch, what are you even talking about? You are the one making the whole fucking monologue about how all Asians look the same. It's not like it particularly annoys me, but there's too much hypocrisy to overlook it. Don't you think? For someone who wants to teach me lessons of morality, you are a fucking clown yourself. We all know you love to provoke, but let me give you some good advice. That is the worst thing you can do before Clash. You are just gaining way too many enemies, and even without them your chances of winning are quite small. Maybe you disappointed your parents and chose a different industry, Chad. The thing is, by behaving like this you are giving a little tribute to that. You are basically bending over and spreading your ass, waiting to finally get fucked.

Provocations. Insincerity. Huge ego. You don't have to look far away to find another one of the same type. This is a charming story, Raivo, but do you think anyone will believe your noble intentions? You really think that someone will fall for that bullshit? As long as For the Minorities win, you'll be happy, right? Good one! I don't even know how you managed not to choke on those words, but every single competitor on this roster knows how greedy you are. And if I'm being honest, I have a feeling that it's not the loss itself that would be the hardest for you, but that one of your buddies did something you couldn't. i am sure you will pull out that tantrum, or even fuck over your homies if you are eliminated before them. That's why your confidence can be perceived in different ways. Perhaps you don't believe in your so-called friends. Are Maggall and DT not good enough in your opinion? Do you really think you are so much better than them, that you are lying like this just to make yourself look good? Or are you counting on these two to pave your way to victory? Well, we can never know with you, Raivo. After all, you change your mind so fucking quickly, as long as it fits your current narrative. You just stood proud as Spartans Champion not long ago. Along with DT, you were carrying those tag titles all over the place. And now you're saying you never cared about any of those things? You assume they were limiting your potential? If that's the case, why did you get involved in this shit? Why didn't you push yourself into the Main Event right away? Oh, wait I think, I know why. Because you were not good enough and the last attempt that you got on that belt, proved that point. Contrary to what you say, you needed those other belts more than you'd like to admit. They at least got anyone to pay attention to you. Well, that and your terrible behavior. Spitting on corpses, constant attacks and contributing to terrorism, then hiding your tail between legs and pretending you had nothing to do with it. You should be ashamed of yourself, Raivo. There are better ways to get attention than constant disrespect and bloodshed. Did the case of Havoc and Gaijin Killer teach you anything? There's no honor in making a name for yourself by being known as the worst person in the world. Not to mention, that it's crazy that you do horrible things first and then pretend to be a victim. People hate you because you are black, huh? Nah, they despise you, because you also have zero respect to them. They are sick of you, because you are making them feel miserable. I am minority too, Raivo. Of course, racism always existed and you can see it everywhere. But for this faction of yours, that's just an excuse to act like dickheads. It is actually a shame, what an example you are giving to other. It fucking suck to see how someone is using worldwide problem to avoid consequences...to get what they want. This is what I truly hold a grudge against a Gaijin Killer for. And one day you will also realize it was a mistake and you will not be able to look in the mirror. But for now? It doesn't seem like it is going to change. You will do you, acting like a soldier in the war you created yourself. But don't forget about one thing, the soldiers as reckless as you are, they are the first to die on the battlefield. If you are really going to approach Clash like these, then you can be considered nothing, but the corpse.

I'm just wondering how you feel, DT? Hearing that someone, you consider a partner...friend or whatever...talks about your joint success as if it had no value. Since he doesn't even respect what concerns him, I wouldn't hope for a big celebration if one of you managed to somehow make it. If it wasn't Raivo, I'd expect this to be the end of For the Minorities. Though, that's not the only thing I've always wondered about, when it comes to you. Why are you even hanging out with these people? You know they are dickheads. You know they have no boundaries and don't care about the consequences. So why get involved in something like this? You could be better. As crazy as it sounds, you're the least evil of that disgusting and full of shit faction. Sometimes I am able to see at least a little humanity in you. But the fact is...The longer you spend with them, the worse they affect you. But are you truly so fucking different? Considering that for someone who wants to jump on that so-called equality propaganda, you were caught being racist to other people as well. So, I don't fucking know, DT. Maybe instead of clinging to what's easiest and most comfortable, think a little about yourself and your future. Do you want to be remembered this way? Or you want to be a successful wrestler, known as one of the best in the world? Or maybe you'd rather go down in the history of wrestling like a fucking dick? The choice is yours, but one of them brings way too many regrets.

People like For the Minorities, Chad, Jason and so many other assholes like that, put a certain image in my head. Namely, we should all get ready for some shenanigans going on. After all, you don't have to be particularly intelligent to expect people like them to look for easier ways to win. It doesn't take much to figure out that dirty games can't be avoided. And it's going to be especially difficult for me, since I'm going to have to deal with this throughout the entire match. So you're asking, what am I going to do about it? It is not like I can change them, but I have ways to avoid their bullshit.

*Arata points to his bright blue eye for a moment, and shakes his head with a nasty smile on his face. The blessing he got from Izanami could solve all his issues.*

Don't get me wrong, I'm not going to use it all the time. I technically could, but I don't want to win this way. That would be sad and dishonorable, and it is in no way for me to redeem my name. I want to rebuild the legacy of Arata Asakura on honesty and fairness. I want you to look at me as an example of a perfect wrestler. Not only based on skills, but also approach. I know good manners don't win matches and championships. It is not like I went soft or something like that. But i don't want to feel like a fraud. I want everyone to know, that I won because I was the best in the company. That's why, my eye is notgoing to be my main weapon, but a trump card, in case someone tries to fuck me over. It is something that I will use only, if I have no other choice. So treat it as some sort of self-defense. Why am I saying that? Actually, before someone creates a completely different narrative and makes too many people believe, that I'm going to cheat my way to win. But I would never do that, also due to respect I have for my friends. Chris, Jeff and everybody who helped me and this company, deserve to have equal chance. It would not be fair to them to use the divine power that I have. I simply can't spit in their face like this. I just want all these dicks to realize, that they better not try to prey on my difficult position. Because the truth is that, i don't need any divine power to outsmart you. I have other things that make me always be one step ahead of everybody. My brain is what none of you can beat. It is the tool that will make me win Clash of the Titans and get me back my rightful spot as a face of this company.

But this time, you don't have to live in fear. It won’t be a reign of terror, but a reign of prosperity in OWA.

Christopher Sabertooth, Scott Oasis, Alyssa Grace and Remington Ivory Prescott have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos June 1st 2023, 5:41 am by **Raivo**

(The muffled sounds of the pleas for Raivo to stop after training gone wrong still ring as the visual that comes into view is that of the interior of a hospital. Still blurry as it zooms out to show Raivo sitting on a chair outside of a patient room. We see people coming in and out but Raivo still sits there, looking with that same despondent look he had during the interview he had after his loss. As the camera pans to get a better view of the entrance of the patient’s room, a bigger blur comes out and grabs Raivo. It takes him and pushes him against a wall.)

???: What the actual hell is wrong with you, Terrell? You didn’t need to beat this kid near death, and for what? Cause your ego is hurt? Cause you decided you needed someone to express your pissed off state? What was the reason? Now look, they’re not pressing charges cause we all know shit like this happens from time to time. And after looking him over the only major injury he got are a broken nose and bruised ego, but it could have gotten worse. I saw that look in your eye, I know what you were thinking, and you’re what giving up? Giving up for what reason? A single fucking lose where the other dude got lucky. I ain’t raise you like this son. I ain’t raise you to lose without grace, I ain’t raise you to give up after adversity, so I don’t know why you’re starting now.

(The figure lets go of Raivo, as he just slinks to the ground, his eyes still glossed over and no expression on his face. The camera then cuts to another scene with Ravio writing something in a notebook, ripping it out and slapping it onto the interior of his locker in the gym he trains in before flicking back to the present day. Present Day, Raivo is attending a red carpet event and gets swarmed by reporters. He calms them down and starts to call on reporters for questions.)

Raivo: Alright, alright, y’all gonna have to wait for your turns. But I ain’t answering any questions bout Kingdom because we gonna be here all day ya hear me (Raivo Laughs). Now you in the front.

Reporter 1: Raivo, how do you feel about the Clash this year? Many people usually fought for a chance at the title but now it’s whoever wins, wins it all. Does this change how you’re going into the match?

Raivo: Yea, look going into this shit is nothing new. Cause you got the odds stacked against the black man like always. You got so many people in this match, just for the chance to take down one person. But I can already tell you that For the Minorities isn’t wanted. We ain’t in the final plan to be the champion at the end of all this. They just see us as a necessary evil to take out someone they think is a greater force. And that in it’s own right pisses me off. Cause you got me, you got DT, and you got all of other For the Minorities members in the back wanting to make sure that this title comes to us. Because without us, that title ain’t gonna get back to the height it once was. And what’s funny though is I kinda understand where Stark comin from, mostly cause I get the stance he tryna make. Homie called that shit the Cracker Title, and while I know he just making fun of OWA, that’s what the bitch is. Think about it. That title ain’t never been held by a Person of Color ever. No one of importance, no one who could elevate it to the heights it needs to be. The only people who ever held that shit, has been white as alabaster, as a white as the snow bunnies that flock my dressing room tryna get some of this FTM dick. And because of that there needs to be a change. But Stark ain’t that. Homie want this for personal gain, he want this because he mad his fed ain’t make it out of the stage of irrelevance so he took this title hostage. I commend the gumption, but that’s about all I can commend. The Clash is going to be opening we all need, and closure of what is old. Next Question, you with the messed up teeth, I know you from the BBC. Speaking of BBC tho—

(Before Raivo could make a joke that gets them cut, the reporter speaks.)

Reporter 2: On track to what is going to be the biggest Clash there is, Are there any competitors who you have your eye on? Maybe someone who you think may be a challenge?

Raivo: A challenge? No. None of them can compare to the talent that is Raivo. Look I know skill when I see it and honestly in my time here, people talk and people fight. But there’s no skill involved only luck. And most of the time I can work with that because while I ain’t the luckiest of people, I’ve been able to find myself in situations most favorable to myself and my team. You can’t beat Pure Skill with just Luck. Now, I know people gonna say how that happened when I’ve lost a bit here and there, but that’s just it. That wasn’t luck beating me, that was bad luck. Cause like I said I ain’t lucky, but I ain’t immune to the bad luck and juju that these bitches bring around me. I mean if you look at Seventh Ward, them bastard have stepped through more broken glass and walked under more ladders than the bad luck knows what to do it with it. So it transfers and I lose cause of it. But anyway before I go on a tangent, there ain’t anyone I think has a chance more than I or DT do. Look we goin in there to tear it down, not just the match but the foundations of OWA. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, but For the Minorities is going to become the new pillars of this new foundation we are setting up. It’s just a matter of time and honestly it’ll be a matter of fact after the clash.

(Just as Raivo finishes his statement he feels his phone vibrate and takes it out to look who’s calling. “Victor” flashes across the screen and he stops the interviews and walks off to go to a location where he can hear himself think and Victor speak.)

Raivo: Vic, to what pleasure do I have to hear from you at this moment.

Victor: Raivo, it’s been awhile how goes training?

Raivo: I know you aren’t calling to hear about how training is going. You already taught me all I need to know and left as soon as For the Minorities started to gain traction. So I’ll ask again. What do you want?

Victor: I’m doing good myself Raivo. Listen I only called because, that match with Seventh Ward, that wasn’t you was it.

Raivo: What the fuck do you mean you old bas—

Victor: You know what I mean. The Raivo I know doesn’t take that shit from anyone and is able to hold his own no matter the opponent. That man in there was nothing like the man we saw when he was a Bare-Knuckle fighter. That man didn’t have the drive to win. So who was that cause I damn well know that wasn’t you Raivo!

Raivo: Nah, nah you listen here Vic. That man you saw in the ring is someone you’ve always seen. I’ve changed since the incident and for the better. I don’t know what fucking crock of shit you think you and Pops can say to try and get me to think differently but let me tell you something. That man in the ring is the same fucking Raivo. I don’t know what you’re going to say next, maybe that I’ve gone soft, maybe that I’ve learned to pull punches but let me tell you that your ass is wrong. Cause you ain’t been here for the good length of a year, and you think you can try and tell me how I changed? Nah, I just ain’t working like y’all think I do because there are somethings that line up with my plan that need to happen.

Victor: And what you think your some fancy architect? Face it you’ve lost your way ever since you decided to continue fighting after the incident. Your father saw an unforgiving malice in your eye and wanted to reign you in, but I wanted you to hone it into pure aggression. And ever since you had won those titles, I don’t know if it’s cause of FTM or DT but you haven’t been relying on your own skill. You’ve been relying on those around you. Just face it, you can’t win without others around you.

Raivo: (Laughs). Now that’s fucking rich. You hit up my line to tell me what I can and can’t do but you don’t even see the big picture of what I am doing for myself. You tryna hate from outside the club but you ain’t even being let in, Vic. You wanna call me up and tell me what I’m doing wrong, then I’ll gladly let you but I ain’t gonna sit here and let you try and think you know what is going on in my head. You and Pops ain’t know what the plans been. You just been showing up, trying to dictate what I do just so I can fit the mold y’all had for me. Pops wanted a champion, someone he could live vicariously through. And you, hell you treat me like the Son you never had that any deviation from it hurts you don’t it?

Victor: You better choose your next words carefully, Raivo. I didn’t call just to get disrespected by someone I know isn’t living the potential he’s living up to. Even if it’s some part of a plan that he keep talking about.

Raivo: And that’s the thing you show short-sighted, simple-minded, that you act like all these others in the Clash. These people who look at me and For the Minorities see what I let them see. They see nuisances, people who are aren’t as dangerous as they let themselves seem to be. They see people they can just look over and feel safe. Hell, they still do that even after all the hell we put Frontline through. They see that even after all the fucking bullshit we put other teams and other competitors through. Because they’re short-sighted and don’t see the bigger picture I have been painting since the inception. And at the Clash that’s where it happens. And it’s going to happen a lot sooner than even I thought would happen.

Victor:.... Well tell me.

Raivo: You ain’t see it yet do you? The Clash holds the power to dictate what the next months will look like. Whether or not we want to believe it or not, whoever wins, controls how OWA operates. Oasis wants to think he can control OWA, but nah as we see, his champions hold his balls in a vice grip that no one can get him out of. And because of that, I have the opportunity to do this funniest thing ever. Become the champion of an organization that has shunned me since the beginning. You got heavy hitters in this match I know, but they ain’t got the plan, they ain’t got the fighting spirit I got. To sound cliche, they ain’t me, they ain’t him, I’m Him, nah I’m HE successor to Him. As in HE will be the next one up, HE will be the one to lead this new era, HE will be the next Champion. And the likes of Chad, the likes of Krieger, the like of Frontline and their pet banana Arata, they ain’t got nothing on what I have in store. Because they’re not even factors of this story. They don’t matter in my grand scheme, no matter how much they want to say they do. They can play it for laughs, they can act serious and show their intentions clearly, but they ain’t ever gonna match up to what I can do and what I will do.

Victor: (Chuckles). Here I thought you was delusional, no you’re just insane Raivo. After all of that I still don’t know what you mean and I’m not sure you do either. You talk as if your a prophet but I know you’re still that same child we had to get out of the bind because he couldn’t stand losing. We noticed a switch, but that was it. You put your nose to the grindstone and made sure nothing like that happened again, hell you even had another bad loss soon after but you held yourself. And that Raivo we saw then is nothing like the Raivo we see now, and I don’t know whether that’s a good thing or not.

Raivo: Nah it’s a good thing. You can believe me or not but that’s cause you ain’t know what’s been going on in this head ever since then. And you know what, just for you a Pops sake, check that locker in his old gym. Should still be there right, I mean he ain’t ever give up on training the new generation, so I doubt he gave up on keep that same musty as aesthetic either. So you find what I’m talkin bout, and never call this number again. Because once you see what’s in there, then you’ll understand what I mean.

(Raivo hangs up and heads into the building where the event is happening. He walks up some stairs to find a balcony or something that overlooks the whole event. He’s not here to enjoy himself anyways, he’s there to ruminate.)

Raivo: People like to underestimate what they don’t understand or what they feel they’ve had pegged from the very beginning. And that’s what I like to prey on. Those misconceptions, those ideas on the fact that people think they KNOW who Raivo is. It’s funny. I listen to Krieger, I imagine what the others will soon say afterward and it’s all the same. They say something to the effect that you don’t live up to the name, to talk. They say that DT has carried you and should get rid of you. They say that I am not who I say I am. My old coach believes it. These nobodies down there, with their fake ass smiles believe it, hell even my old man believes it. But that’s the thing about people. They are easily played. You are able to play with what they think and how they are because that’s just how they operate. They want to be right, no one ever wants to be proven wrong so they delude themselves into thinking they’re right. Hell you could make a case that after everything, after all the hardships and the hard losses I’ve undergone, I’m doing the same thing. But that’s because I only let you assholes see what you need to see. You don’t know everything, and you never will until the grand unveiling.

(Raivo flags down a waiter and grabs a glass of champagne from him.)

Raivo: I don’t like to think I’m smart, I know I am. I talk loud, I talk brash, I make you mad because it, for lack of better words, makes me happy. I like playing that sort of gnat, that annoying presence that you try and get away from but no matter how many times you swat at it, it never does. And it’s funny that people think it’s degrading to compare yourself to something annoying, but I find it fitting, because it’s true. People have tried to get rid of me and have tried so hard to make sure I never made it to the next event. Hell I could name almost everyone in that match who has had it out for me because aside from DT and possibly Chad, I’ve done something to them that warrants that hatred. I spit on Bishops dead body, he ain’t in this I just really love bringing it up. I took away Chris and Jeff’s titles, Arata is just a cracker worshiper, and the others, well they hate when I bring up the oppression of blacks because they’re snowflakes to this whole situation. And hell this may be my memory being hazy but I don’t remember doing anything to Krieger but he came at me with such malice you might as well think I dicked down his mother and sister in the same night. It’s funny how much hatred shows you not just what people actually think about you, but how little it takes for their guard to be broken. I play this role because it benefits me and only me. Well I can’t say that because For the Minorities was bred from this role, I just play it the best and the others take advantage of it. That’s how I work anyway, and I like contributing that way. And during the Clash that’s how I’ll continue to operate. And people call that a dumb strategy, but hell you can’t see the future like I can. Because history is the future, and with the addition of something new to the mix it doesn’t change the outcome of something it in fact heightens it. All these grudges against me, or against other people, that’s not going to matter in the end. Because we all want one thing, that title, and we’re going to do whatever is necessary. Stark may be lax but I know even he knows this shit gotta be tight if he wants to come out of this match still the champion so I know homie gonna have his head on a swivel. Krieger, Chad, all those old up-and-comers are gonna wanna be adding new gold to their resume and will be showing out by making this biggest splash. I’m going to be going under the radar, because for once I’ll admit it, there’s something bigger on people’s plates. And they may want to say that’s wrong, or that I’ll be gunned down in the beginning but as I know, and as so many people want to keep bring up to specifically me, talk is cheap. Talk don’t get you nowhere but to a destination you didn’t sign up for. And I take that to heart. Because let me tell you this, I don’t talk to get under your skin fellas. I talk because I like to hear myself talk. Getting under your skin is a bonus, is a fucking hilarious addition because it’s something I ain’t aiming to do. And yet it happens because all of you are weak willed. I know it, you know it, and most certainly DT knows it. DT, I know you’re listening, I just want to acknowledge you homie. People were asking who else I had in mind during this Clash and how I would approach them. I didn’t want to admit that you were always a factor in how this goes. We know each other, we respect each other, and god dammit I know we ain’t gonna let each other just win. We know we gotta earn it from each other and I know you know that as well. So brother, we gonna take out all these fuckers, and then we gonna see who gonna lead this new era.

(Raivo shoots back the champagne and flags down another waiter. He gets a couple more glasses before telling the waiter to just leave the tray with him.)

Raivo: Alright you got the one nice thing I was gonna say this whole time so now we’re back to our regularly schedule program of me telling you that your heroes ain’t shit. Cause they ain’t. They are some self-absorbed people in my time and I will admit I can be that way as well. But when it comes to those in this match, man are they a dime a dozen. But that makes them easier to be played. It makes them easier to be fucked with and I know how to fuck with people whose heads are so far up in the clouds that the only thing they can’t see is the mediocrity they invoke. And I mean it. Hell I’ll do a once in a lifetime thing for all of you and tell you that you reek of headassness that makes even the most dumbass of dumbasses blush. And that if you don’t look it over, if you don’t improve on it, then you might as well give me that title. And I know y’all ain’t down for the title to be given to lil ole Raivo now are you. Hell not until I do some dances for my oppressors huh. Agh Raivo I thought we’d go a bit longer without mentioning oppression but you’ve done so three times this night. And I’ll continue to do it because it’s funny to me. Funny to me to have all these people try and dance around the fact that they are racist, so much in fact that they do racist things. And I do that for my own entertainment and to just get you all ready for what’s going to come after I win that title. Because look at this line up of competitors. Stark, Arata, Sabertooth, Jeff, Moongoose McQueen, DT, Chad, Jason, Krieger, Arthur, MYOJIN, JD, Nate Cage, Striker, Tyler, Sena, Dick P. Slaughter and Minj. All these people vying for a title, for a chance to be the face of, or in Starks case, to continue to humiliate OWA. All these people want what’s mine, want what is For the Minorities, and rightfully so. I said a long time ago that this is a historic occasion so not only are fighting to take the title, you’re fighting to enter the history books. But you’re going to have to keep fighting harder and harder because that title is mine. I’m not going to make an impassioned speech on how that title was built for me, how that title has been calling me ever since I signed with OWA. No because that title wasn’t built for me, hell this company wasn’t made with people like me in mind. But when I get that title, then the whole vision changes. The whole idea of what OWA is going to change and I am going to be the author. I am going to be in charge of all the paths and roads that OWA goes down. I’m gonna have my hand in everything and I’m gonna be the one who manipulates this hunk of shit into the masterpiece it deserves to be. This ain’t about bringing something to be proud of back to OWA, this ain’t about making the title deserving of the OWA name again. This is about control first and foremost. And I am tired of these other people thinking they can keep controlling my narrative and how this is going to play out for ME. You all are going to want to keep this title from me because if you think I’m a menace now, just you wait. I am going to take this, make it mine, and you’re all going to have to live with it and hope that you come out of this either a polished piece of shit or with a job still. Because this title is not just going to be for me, this title and the coming era ain’t gonna be just for my vision. Nah it’s finally going to be unified under one banner. A title legacy that finally is and forever will be For the Minorities.

Scott Oasis, Alyssa Grace, The Banshee, 'Don' Hendrix, Remington Ivory Prescott, DT The Ruler and Chad Ecclestone have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos June 1st 2023, 1:27 am by **DT The Ruler**

“You’re not gonna take a break?”

(In yet another unknown facility on the East Coast, lightly lit, with various gym equipment and a weight rack near the back wall with the mirrors, DT The Ruler was shown on camera, doing five pushups, then standing up for two leg lifts, and then dropping down again. With him were three trainers, two of which were standing near a sweat-drenched weight bench, moving the already used weights out of the way, and the older Head Trainer he’s had for years. After reaching one hundred reps again, DT The Ruler sat up and reached for the towel near him)

Head Trainer: Ya done yet?

DT The Ruler: ............Done?

Trainer 1: Yeah. Done. You’ve been pushing yourself for two days to prepare for this match. You’ve done enough.

DT The Ruler: Nah. I can and have to keep going. I’m doing fine. I’ve laid in a bed for too many days; I need to be ready to move.

(One of the other trainers passed a water bottle to DT The Ruler, who drank some water then poured some over his head before wiping down his face and arms. His breathing was heavier than usual when he worked out, but DT The Ruler felt adamant on continuing to get reps in according to the routine he set up)

Head Trainer: Nah, Don; you need a real break. You keep exercising to failure, you won’t be able to lift yourself up, nonetheless those other guys.

DT The Ruler: I told you I am fine. I appreciate the concern, but I can move okay. Just make sure the weights are where I want them to be and keep the floor dry.

Assistant Trainer 1: You need more water, sir?

DT The Ruler: Nah, I’m good. Just do what you’re told.

(Once the Assistant Trainers picked up a dry mop and started cleaning up the training facility, the Head Trainer started speaking again)

Head Trainer: Look Don, I know you’re feeling super motivated again, but you gotta pace yourself. Even those psychos in the Army take breaks here and there.

DT The Ruler: I’m not an 18-year-old kid anymore. I can handle it and stop when I need to.

Head Trainer: I know you think you’re gonna become One Punch Man or something, but all you’re getting is balder. (DT The Ruler looked at him in annoyance) Just relax a little. You’ve done enough. Any more preparation and you might be able to slam someone through the ring. And the goal is to throw them over the top rope, right?

DT The Ruler: Yeah, yeah, yeah. (DT The Ruler stood up with the water bottle in one hand and the towel over his shoulder, irritated and exhausted) I still feel like I can keep going.

Head Trainer: You can stay here and go nuts, but I’m gonna get some dinner. (looking at the assistants) Y’all want some food?

Trainer 1: Sure, I guess.

Trainer 2: Yeah. I ain’t eat since this morning.

Head Trainer: Alright, I’m buying! Let’s go.

DT The Ruler: ...

Trainer 1: What we getting?

Head Trainer: You go where I wanna go.

Trainer 2: Watch the old man pick somewhere cheap like Denny’s or some shit.

Head Trainer: You gonna complain about free food? Shut your trap and let’s go.

(As the three walked out of the facility and loudly closed the door behind them, DT The Ruler took several deep breaths, seemingly gasping, and sat on the end of the exercise bench, taking deep breaths)

I feel a little better now.

My anger from losing the OWA Tag Team Championship hasn’t subsided. Internally, I am fuming about having no championship gold in my possession. At the same time, there is a thought that our greatness, the greatness of myself and Mr. Raivo, have transcended the general perceptions of those who hold the Tag Team Championships. I’ve always been a believer that the possessor of a Championship is the one that determines its worth through their actions and their defenses, their willingness to fight, their ability to overcome their adversaries, and we elevated those titles enough, to the point that we had to fight to the brink of death twice for them to be pried out of our hands. It is as if the Seventh Ward had to use any and everything outside the Jaws of Life to get those belts out of our hands, and that was enough to show any and all observers how valuable a championship should appear to be.

But being here again, in one of my private gyms, just me and the weights with the trainers watching or spotting me at the Bench Press, helped to relieve some of the pent-up rage conjured up by that loss. The coming Clash contest is as much a test of human will as it is a marathon, and the workouts I’ve been doing over the past few days are to help with one of the many aspects of the coming Clash match: endurance. I have no idea what my entrance number is right now, but if it’s anything similar to last year, I have to be set to go the distance for what I want. Places like this are where I continue to maintain my body as a weapon, and for that championship belt, the OWA World Championship, I have to stay sharp. I can’t be sluggish.

And I refuse to be slowed down.

(DT The Ruler put his hands on his forehead, taking a few more noticeable breaths and then closing his eyes for a moment. He then inhaled through his nose and calmed himself down completely)

????????????: Look at the hardworking, strong brotha himself!

(DT The Ruler opened his eyes and the gym was more lit up, with a familiar figure ringing against his ears once more)

DT The Ruler: Oh God, how is this shit happening? I haven’t used any painkillers in days!

Donovan T Washington: You’re fatigued.

DT The Ruler: *sigh* I... am not exhausted. I am just fine; I can go all day.

Donovan T Washington: First of all, it’s already night. And second of all, at this point, you should just roll with it. I don’t see what the problem is anyways with seeing me! You’re acting like Ted Cruz stepped in... and I wouldn’t wish that on most people. I bet you’re just irritated that I’m the better-looking version of you.

DT The Ruler: Is that confidence or arrogance making you- well, past me- that delusional?

Donovan T Washington: I gotta believe in me before anyone else, man. Learn to love yourself, and with your training over the past few days: you need to relearn how to do that. My shoes are getting ruined by your sweat being all over the floor! Gotta walk through this place like I’m sagging my slacks.

(Donovan T Washington walked over to DT The Ruler while holding a bottle of water of his own and opened it for a quick sip before closing it again)

DT The Ruler: So you came here to talk like a Basic White Girl? Might as well say Live Laugh Love, too. Go ahead and tell me the Taylor Swift song you’re going to use for your campaign while you’re at it.

Donovan T Washington: HEY! “Black Republican” is staying! Never in my life would my Campaign use a song from someone dependent on Breakup Anthems.

DT The Ruler: I gotta get back to my workout, so make this quick. I can’t look at my terrible choice in suits from the past.

Donovan T Washington: Hold up! How you gonna push away a part of you? Without me, you would probably be dressing like Lil Wayne and Birdman. Listen, we’re in this together! I came here for the same reason our other self-appeared the other day: to bring more sense to you. To support you! I’m not running for any office for 2024, so I got time to talk to a respectable citizen.

DT The Ruler: So you’re not here to remind me of why I decided against becoming a Political Figure?

Donovan T Washington: Well you remember why, besides Wrestling being more your specialty, but the other reason sounds nicer for this situation instead of saying “you couldn’t cut the mustard”, right?

DT The Ruler: But “not measuring up” is not the reason I ended the campaign, though. It’s because you- well, I or we, whatever- found out how dirty The Game is running for any office in the land, especially for someone Black with little connections.

Donovan T Washington: I mean I had connections and some trustworthy constituents, but even with those, you still gotta play a lot into a level of fuckery I wasn’t up for back then. You gotta pocket media members, sometimes even citizens, hire people to delete your Internet Activity, give hush money to a bunch of women you messed around with, and make sure you can speak the language of everyone around you. A lot of those stooges like Rudy Giuliani don’t know anything; they just know enough to talk political jargon for three minutes with people from The Young Turks and on Fox and Friends. Plus for fundraiser money to keep the campaign going, you end up becoming a sock puppet for various corporations. You don’t really help people in the end, either; you just play pretend that you do and circumvent laws to pocket their money.

DT The Ruler: And as I- well, we- learned over time: it’s better to be the puppet master, is it not?

Donovan T Washington: Surely, but I didn’t want to reminisce on my campaign; I want to talk about the campaign trail of you and the rest of the For The Minorities Party. The cruel and unusual game known as Professional Wrestling pulls no punches at times, but you know better now this game is filled with its filth. Earning everything based on skill, ability, and hard work seems to not exist or matter sometimes. That’s one of the reasons you all declared war over two very different brands. That’s why you all made deals and negotiations with people and even creatures you don’t even like. Hell, a few people in your little alliance effort didn’t even want to fight in the Great War.

DT The Ruler: But they did anyways. I’m sure most soldiers didn’t want to be deployed in Iraq, but they rolled with it.

Donovan T Washington: But that’s part of The Game. Just like with politics, you have to know how to play your part you want to play and cash out. I mean look at some of these people who held political positions, like Chris Christie, a man who probably saw a cheeseburger more times than he’s seen his penis when looking down his whole adult life. He’s a good little puppet most of the time otherwise. But let me remind you of a problem I had that caused me to drop out: I did not want who I am to be any further compromised. In your more recent fight against The Frontline and their whore friends, you all were willing to push your points so much that you were willing to die for them. Most politicians are cowards that’ll throw everyone under the bus to save themselves as long as they gain the status or seat they want. You’re not 100% like that, are you?

DT The Ruler: I try not to be. Well, I tried not to be.

Donovan T Washington: I believe it, for obvious reason. I heard that Chad Ecclestone guy talking the other day, and he mentioned you, which is interesting because he also is playing The Game for a similar reason as you: to invoke change. Maybe in his case, the change is complete collapse of OWA, but it’s still change. He sees the obscenity in this business and wants to wash it out his way.

DT The Ruler: But that’s where the similarities begin to end. As understandable as his disdain is for Professional Wrestling, one thing he should ensure he does not do while gazing into the abyss of this business is soak in the worst aspects of it. You see with Mr. Ecclestone, the respect is there for his entertainment value; you can sense his charisma and wit with the way he verbally chops up the trash he’s been forced to interact with on Kingdom. However, the moment he said that leaving Mr. Raivo behind was something I should consider, that’s when I knew the abyss of this business was gazing back into him. I haven’t been in OWA its whole duration, but I do notice how frivolous people treat alliances and business arrangements. As soon as a brass ring is waved in their face or a little adversity stands in their way, their levels of selfishness reach astronomical levels. Their desire to strategize as a unit dissipate. And their conceit becomes apparent in a cancerous manner. Mr. Raivo is a big reason we retained the OWA Tag Team Titles at #OWA5. Mr. Raivo is a big reason we won them in the first damn place. In the only World Title match I’ve had here, I was against... Michael Bishop... Myojin... and Raivo. We understand when the time comes, we will have to compete for the championship against each other, and we will do what is necessary. But for the handful of associates I’ve been connected to, he’s one of the only ones that hasn’t given me reason to turn on him. When it comes to having what it takes to be the main champion, I have a clear understanding of the route I am creating. But I will resist walking the course of many other team-ups I’ve seen. The Golden Dawn. The Dynasty. The Power of Incredible Violence. Even JD Damon and Kyle. The Frontline almost went through it as well. All because of the brass rings everyone wants as physical confirmation of their greatness, symbols as to who the best of the best are, and I look to be one that got to that point my way, not the OWA way. Lone Wolf Syndrome has its good and bad in an industry that applauds being strong and independent, shark-like and all about Number One, but I don’t need to turn on everyone associated with me to stand as the single best Wrestler in OWA. I’ve done the Strong and Independent move once before, walking the road alone, but if it’s not necessary, it’s not necessary.

Donovan T Washington: Nice speech, almost sounds like someone else wrote it for you, kind of like how Drake is with his lyrics now. And Cardi B. And Jay-Z later in time. You sure you don’t have a ghostwriter?

DT The Ruler: Why would I need a ghostwriter? Where would they be in here anyways? What I said was coherent and doesn’t need a hit of Snoop Dogg weed and a cup of lean to understand.

Donovan T Washington: Lighten up; I’m just messing with ya. I mean with Chadman and others, you can’t guarantee to change their minds, even if you win. But your goal going into The Clash is not to change his mind or anyone else’s. You’re going there to win. When putting your stake in the ground, some will approve and give you their vote and some won’t; it’s just the way it is. You present your case and let the chips fall where they may. I had a lot of naysayers, remember? Even when I came back to the ring, I had doubters. And you remember what some of those doubters did?

DT The Ruler: All too well. Maybe I should’ve hired security back then after noticing how bitch-made guys like Avalanche and his gang were.

Donovan T Washington: Or maybe not focus too much on past events and focus on the match coming.

DT The Ruler: I am focused. That’s why I’m in the gym: to stay in focus. I hear the people talking about the match. I know who is saying what. But I also know I have to be physically ready to make my arguments and take action. I’m not all talk and never was.

Donovan T Washington: Neither is Arata.

DT The Ruler: Neither is Jeff. Neither is Chris. Neither is Bishop. Or most of the others involved. What’s your point?

Donovan T Washington: But Arata has made his promises! He almost pulled a Charles Barkley and GUAAAAAAA-RAAAAAAAAAAN-TEE he is going to win. We heard it! The people heard it!

DT The Ruler: So?

Donovan T Washington: What do you mean so?

DT The Ruler: Listen, I’ve been around for some of Arata of old’s worst actions. I’ve seen that man show desperation, anger, frustration, and absolute loss of focus when his ego and his prowess was challenged. The Arata Asakura we see now speaks as if he turned the other cheek, but I’m not convinced enough. I’m not going to sit here and debate whether or not Mr. Arata is anew or an amalgamation of past and future atrocities, though I don’t blame anyone for not letting him continue his redemption tour without cross-examination. If Mrs. Hillary Clinton can’t escape the warmongering she participated in, neither can he. If Mr. Donald Trump doesn’t get to dodge all of his abhorrent opinions and the damage done to innocents- in his case with shit like the Trump University scam- neither does he. The fact that he picked Number One as his entrance number shows that he hasn’t changed. The fact that he spoke with such reassurance that he is the only one that can get through this ordeal and become OWA World Champion over Mr. Stark further proves he hasn’t changed. His ego is still out of control, which means his capabilities as a Professional Wrestler are the same as well, and that can be and has been dissected. Because all those things specifically show Mr. Arata Asakura is not rooting his approach in reality. The way Mr. Arata spoke of his Frontline associates and the champion while dismissing everyone else in the contest as a footnote shows me him choosing Number One is an ego-stroking move. He gives off the aura of a man who believes everyone else is just an exhibition for the protagonist that is himself. He can cut that shit out about no one matching his desire. He was at the Great War and across from him was not just his daughter, but men like myself fighting for their lives for opportunity his past self has received multiple times already and fumbled. And with an opportunity like this, what makes him think his desire to win will carry him over anyone else’s by default? What Mr. Arata is going to find out is that he may be comfortable facing his Frontline buddies and some of the other idiots he got to bully last season, but people like myself are more than capable of killing his hopes and dreams. A lot of men want this. Most of the people in the match NEED this. But only one can win, and just having a mere itch for the OWA World Championship is not enough.

Donovan T Washington: So the guy is just talking?

DT The Ruler: Typical narcissism, yeah.

Donovan T Washington: I figured.

DT The Ruler: We’ve both crossed this before. We’ve both put people like this in check before, and Arata may feel that he’s the shining star compared to everyone else, that the Gears of Fate turn in his favor, but his perceptions will be shattered, I promise that. He may not see the Outlaw Championship as good enough, but he better get comfortable with that title.

*Don...*

Donovan T Washington: Even still, my less attractive self: you can’t think like him and underestimate anyone. You’ve seen who and what the man’s willing to throw away for the title. You’ve seen people around him try and kill each other just for these moments.

*Don...*

Donovan T Washington: So even though some of these guys are gonna talk about how they’re gonna go all out and fight, don’t be surprised by anyone trying to find loopholes. Don’t be surprised by anyone trying to go a roundabout way to gain a win.

(DT The Ruler was then shown opening his eyes and noticed his Head Trainer standing right in front of him. The two other trainers had their bags packed and were done cleaning everything up)

DT The Ruler: I’M AWAKE. I’m been awake. Geez.

Head Trainer: Don, we HEARD you sleeping.

DT The Ruler: I don’t snore.

Head Trainer: You wouldn’t snore if you took a damn break. (DT The Ruler sighed for a moment and looked at his Head Trainer) I know last year when you were preparing for Final Destination, I was hard on you. This year for that Clash, though: you got a lot more fighting spirit and anger built up. You’re more understanding of the people you’re facing. You’ve been through more dangerous things than this match and survived. I say you’ve done enough for today. We’re gonna get some sleep... in a bed... for more than a few minutes... and you should, too. Get someone to cook for you, too.

(The trainer and his assistants all walked out of the facility again, leaving DT The Ruler alone once again. He walked over to his duffle bag, pulled out his phone, and sent a text message. After doing so, he slumped to the ground and sat up again, taking a deep breath and leaning his head against the wall behind him)

I keep repeating to myself that there’s more I can and should do. I keep desiring to be overprepared. The Clash is just as much about pacing as well as wit. I know I can overpower anyone in the contest on strength alone. I know everyone participating can get beat. But this contest isn’t just about beating people until they are lifeless, and I was reminded of that last year after being in the contest for as long as I was. Even then, fatigue can sneak in and challenge your will. But I know I can get past that hurdle, too.

And the reason I am pushing myself this way is because I’m not going into this contest like I’ve already won. I’m not moving in such a way to suggest that it is my destiny to be OWA World Champion. As I’ve said before, I am a Black Man in America, a businessman as well. I must be realistic, observant, and understanding of my surroundings and where I am. There’s nothing written in the sky suggesting that the championship belongs to me. No Horoscope, no birthright, nothing. Nothing says that the OWA World Championship is mine. Destiny is not real. But that’s also part of the vision of For The Minorities, though. You step in that ring and do what needs to be done and earn your way. The reason myself and For The Minorities went to the extremes we’ve gone is because many were being rewarded without having to do such. When I enter Clash of the Titans and go to that very ring, best believe I will use everything in me to assure that I take home that championship. And I will regain my place as a World Champion and as OWA’s Master and Ruler.

(DT The Ruler was shown once again with his hand over his forehead in thought. However, he soon stood up and walked over to the weights before the cameras faded to black)

Scott Oasis, Alyssa Grace, The Banshee, Elijah Hampton, 'Don' Hendrix, Remington Ivory Prescott, Raivo and have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos June 1st 2023, 1:18 am by **Nobi**

Clash of Titans I

You know, I'm actually surprised to find myself challenging Remington Ivory Prescott for the Immortal Heavyweight Championship at Clash of Titans. No lie, Noah Reigner wanted to settle things out with Elijah Hampton. That's fine by me. At first what I had in mind was "Elijah Hampton or Noah Reigner is fine by me. Both are great so it would be an accomplishment if I beat either of them, especially for the Prestige Title".

But then it wasn't just that. Reigner offered me a spot. That's so nice of him. So, thank you Reigner for giving me this spot.

Which led me to this, Remington Ivory Prescott. You didn't earn the Immortal Heavyweight Championship the right way. You had to make sure Noah Reigner stuck in Seattle for the OWA 5 Anniversary show when you were still the Olympus owner. You made yourself as the number one contender against Elijah Hampton instead. And what impressive was that, Hampton beat you fair and square. Not your fault you got your rematch right away but it's something you're proud of after the new 3 owners had you vs Hampton right away in a No-DQ match after Brandon Hendrix and Reginald Dampshaw III ambushed Hampton from behind but that was how you wanted things to turn out wasn't it?

You might not be the Olympus owner anymore but you still got the Immortal Heavyweight Championship. You are chosen as one of the chosen ones by Jaywalker, Kevin Devastation, and the mystery guy. Congrats to you, Prescott. You're living the dream.

But that doesn't sit well with me and I'm intending to go for my own dreams myself.

First thing first, it is true Reigner offered to trade spots with me, but I do know I deserve this match. Arguably, I deserved it more than you do as the Immortal Heavyweight Champion. A few months ago, I became an Immortal Heavyweight number one contender and yet, I never got my match until now, so even if I didn't trade spots, I'm still owed this match. It was only a matter of time until I challenged and dare I say become the Immortal Heavyweight Champion. And second, you heard it yourself when both Jaywalker and Kevin Devastation mentioned how you can't underestimate me. I watched the Olympus episode of course afterward by the way.

You see what I mean? Both Jaywalker and Kevin Devastation, multiple world champions all over the place, all over promotions warned you about how you can't underestimate me. They both are right about that.

Sure, you beat me a year ago in the God of War tournament but let me remind you how you beat me. You wanted to use your Diamond Ring against me. You had Monster Truck hit me on your behalf. Just like how you won the Immortal Heavyweight Championship, you needed help to knock me out. That's why you said you don't respect me because you know it as well as I do, that you never proved yourself against me in that match and you know it I'm more than capable to beat you at Clash of Titans to take away the Immortal Heavyweight Championship away from you.

And that's eating you alive, isn't it, Prescott? That was why you originally turned me down. That was why you don't respect me. You're scared of losing the Immortal Heavyweight Championship so soon. That's why you want this bout to be my last match. If somehow you beat me at Clash of Titans ...with cheating or help again...or both, you want to make sure I will never step inside the ring again because as long as I'm in Olympus, you know it I'm a big threat for you. You don't respect that fact because you don't even want to think about it, let alone when it happens to you.

That's actually a good compliment and motivation for me personally. As I said on Olympus, you are just the last among countless men and girls that have said it to me before. Actually, if I had one dollar for every single person who said they want to end my career, I'll be rich and I'll own not only Olympus but also OWA as a whole. Actually, I'm also rich and I could buy Olympus too but I'm not interested in that.

What I'm interested in is to take down a fake, narcissistic, delusional individual like you, Prescott. And obviously, I'm very interested in becoming the next Immortal Heavyweight Champion.

What if I fail? Well….nothing. I'll just either challenge you again or get in the line to earn my opportunity at a later date because taking down Tres Comas Club is also on my agenda. The World's Finest's agenda to be specific.

But now what I need to focus on that standing in my eyes are you and you only, Prescott. I don't regret calling you fake. You're using every source you have to help you win your matches and I have to give you credit that you're smart. You did beat me once by taking a shortcut. I know you don't care about being the best in-ring performer and I still see you as a good in-ring performer. You have the skills and the sources and that's why I need to have a better surrounding for this match. Just like how you can't underestimate me, I can't underestimate you either, Prescott. Be it you in the ring or everything you have under your dirty and smelly sleeves.

You said I have hit my ceiling in Olympus and that's fine. But I don't need to agree with your statement. I know one day I can win the Immortal Heavyweight Championship and that day is Clash of Titans. And again, in your words, you want to make this as my final match.

As I said, I don't buy it, but even if that turns out to be my final match, I'll make sure my last ride is going to be a hoorah as I leave my mark as the Immortal Heavyweight Champion.

Did it piss you off even more, Prescott? Well, you're going to find out how difficult it is to take me down this time around. Compared to last year, now the stakes are much higher as it is for the Immortal Heavyweight Champion. I don't like the way you won the Immortal Heavyweight Championship and now I'm doing something about it. And now I know at least I can expect someone or maybe two people this time to interfere on your behalf but after what happened on Olympus, I know my World's Finest's comrades have my back.

No worries about them because unlike you, even if I have someone behind my back, I like to beat my opponents fair and square and I'll show you the right way as a World Champion, by either making you tap-out or knocking you out to 1-2-3 to finally become the Immortal Heavyweight Champion.

Alyssa Grace, The Banshee, 'Don' Hendrix, Remington Ivory Prescott, DT The Ruler, Felix Hartley and Chad Ecclestone have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos June 1st 2023, 12:34 am by **"Killer Bee"**

So, I just happened to do a little research. Of the names that have been announced for the Odyssey version of the Clash of the Titans, there were FIVE former OWA World Champions: Felix Hartley, Rebecca Filth, Hana Nakajima, Alyssa Grace…and me. Around 21 percent of the announced field. When you cut it off to women who are actually holders of the Women’s World Title or its undisputed variation, that list drops to three: Felix, Rebecca…and me.

13 percent of the field. A very small, elite number.

What’s interesting to me is that most of you seem to have this weird sort of indifference when it comes to me. I mean, I don’t mind it. I genuinely prefer to be overlooked so that I can sneak up on people, but it is a bit strange that one of the few people on the active roster who has been a World Champion, however controversially, here in OWA is seemingly being discounted.

I think I saw Alyssa say that this prize and this opportunity were something, “beyond her reach” was close to the exact verbiage. Funny thing to say for a prize that technically she’s never held but I have, don’t you think? Alyssa, I’m not going to go down this road of threatening you and promising to hurt you, blah blah blah. We’ve been friends, partners, rivals, all that stuff. While your recent change in attitude is a surprise to many it’s not entirely surprising to me. So let’s just cut through all the bullshit and speak on level terms. I feel how desperately you want to win this match and get the opportunity to go to Final Destination and wrestle someone for the World Championship. But to claim that I, a former World Champion, just like you, have nothing to offer is extremely rude.

I thought you would have had a little more respect for your old teammate. Or at least remember the beating I was giving you before Stephanie Matsuda stepped in and saved you before. I don’t have to make you submit this time either and the only rules that are in place are that you’re eliminated when you’re thrown over the top rope and to the floor. That gives me, an expert on inflicting punishment, many many options to cause incredible amounts of pain ... .just because I feel like it. You’ve got your head out of your ass finally, but I’ll be more than pleased to kick it off if you want to play games. You can tell me all you want that you’re gonna win, blah blah blah, but you’re not going to act like you’re some incredible superstar when you and I have pretty much the same resume here minus the tag title reign and you stabbing said tag team partner in the back.

Just something to think about.

Oh, who else had mean, nasty things to say about April Song? Well, it wasn’t quite mean and it wasn’t nasty…but it was DEFINITELY condescending, wasn’t it, Marie? You spew all that nice shit out just to call me a follower instead of a leader. And then you have the gall to say that I don’t stand on my own power? Do you understand exactly what you said to me? You think that I’ve never stood up with my own power? Keep in mind that before you were even a thought here, I was picking up title victories on my own, no demons or partners necessary. I was the American Dream Champion before Stephanie beat me fair and square. The door was opened for me a little bit by certain unsavory types…but I did it on my own. I once held the very fucking belt you’re holding right now.

Who helped me win it?

What demon came to my aid?

I’ve got a lot of holes in my heart, Sabrina the Wrestling Witch. I’ve got no parents to care for in old age since they’re dead. I haven’t seen one of my best friends since LAST Final Destination. Hana’s still going through things and honestly I don’t think she’s going to be the same and who could blame her. And just in the past six months or so I have about a thousand memories that I do not fucking want…but I’m stuck with. No magic, no demon, nothing can banish all of that from my mind. But one thing that I promise you is that I don’t need powers for a match like this. I don’t need incantations or spooky spells or an army of demons to do something I’ve been doing here and other places for the past ten years or so. Don’t let the youthful looks fool you, this is still the same miserable old bitch that can fold you up into a pretzel whenever she wants to. This isn’t my first Clash Rodeo, and It’s not going to be my last either.

Think about that. And also think about this: You’ve got a massive target on your back anyways. Do you want me, a former soldier and very decidedly CURRENT hitman, to hone in on it? Do you want April Song problems? Just a thought.

There’s other people talking but I don’t really hear anything honestly. Bea Havertz. That name sounds familiar to me but I don’t know for what. Was that the blonde that Jeff X was fucking before her met Filth? Is she the Sixth Ranger for the Thotyssey? Is she a member of the Dollhouse that got lost on the wrong back road and finally found her way to OWA? I don’t even know this raggedy little twat and she’s calling me old. Is that all most of the newbies have? At least Filth came up with creative insults and had wrestling acumen to back them up. I can’t stand children…

Devi is….saying Devi things. Most of the time I would kinda chuckle but I do remember her THROWING A DISCUS AND STOPPING ABHOLOS so there’s that. She’s a little weird and sometimes I laugh at how simpleminded she comes across, but she’s got spirit. I’ve seen her fight scratch and claw for titles and respect and to honor the memory of the late Brody Sparks. There’s one person that I’ll never take for granted and that is her. That doesn’t mean I won’t beat her down until she can’t get up if she gets in my way, but I hope it doesn’t come to that. She’s one of the few pure souls we have around here and I wouldn’t want to cause someone like that harm.

Who else? Ah, Tomomi. I’ve actually not had a chance to really see much of her. You know, being tormented by a pair of demons on a daily basis for a few months doesn’t leave much time for studying prospects on the roster, but she’s an intriguing one. I’ve seen lots of young joshi struggle when they first get to America. Hell, Azumi Goto, one of the best of all time, struggled mightily for a while and I was one of her prime sources of said struggle. But I know how hard these young women from Japan train. I wrestled several tournaments over there against them, I toured there for a while as a part of SSW. They only get better with time.

I’m glad I caught her relatively early then here. I have a feeling that in a couple of years people will be writing about her, chanting her name, and praising her as one of the best of her generation. But for now, she’s just someone I’ve got to throw over the top rope or beat fucking unconscious. There’s nothing personal about that, but that’s just the situation we have right here. I can’t look at this girl and see the next Stephanie Matsuda or whatever and be proud or intrigued.

An actual Matsuda protege, Cassie Wu, and her partner are involved. Fuck them. Nah…that’s kinda harsh. I shouldn’t take out my frustration with Stephanie on them just because they’ve been around her but, hey, Stephanie’s fucked off to Olympus for now and I’m on Odyssey so this may be as close as I can get to just a tiny measure of satisfaction and compensation by tearing them both new assholes.

And then there’s Ruri. Do you really buy all that bullshit that Rin’s been feeding you lately? Really? Please don’t. Now, I actually respect you a hell of a lot for forfeiting a title that you didn’t think you deserved or were interested in defending. You did something that even our current World Champion couldn’t imagine: showing integrity. I’m pretty sure I’ve said this before, Ruri, but you’re a good wrestler. A damn good one. You’re a champion a couple of times over here in OWA so take my advice, as a former champion to a current one: Rin is going to suck you dry. And not in a good way. She will feed off of your skill and success until she can latch on to someone else. The girl is a parasite and I do NOT think she has your best interests genuinely in her heart. I think she’s got her own best interests in mind.

Just a hunch, but I think considering her family heritage and track record in OWA that she is not to be trusted.

I don’t necessarily condone murder (in a wrestling ring, anyway), but can someone fucking kill that Dr. Not only does she scream to the mountaintops of someone that is closeted to the maximum, but she’s an annoying conservative bitch. I’m sure she hears that a lot and I’m also pretty sure that she wants to reform me, save me, blah blah blah, make Odyssey Great Again, etcetera, etcetera. I don’t care. I wanted into this Clash to try to see how far I can go and maybe get a title match out of it. I don’t want to get preached at, especially on a political level. I mean, did you guys watch that fucking snorefest she sent out? The only thing was missing that would make it even more annoying was if fucking Ted Nugent, Kid Rock and Big N’Rich were doing some sort of fundraiser for her.

I shouldn’t have even given her that idea.

But anyway, you want credentials. You want legitimate, Bethany? Here I am. I’m one of a very small handful of women who can say they’ve held the original top two belts on Odyssey, the Goddesses and World Championships. I’ve held titles in five different promotions on three different continents. Jiu Jitsu Black Belt, Certified Catch Wrestler. I’ve trained people in hand to hand combat. Been involved in two wars and even a Great War here in OWA. I am as legitimate as there is. You want to find out?

You’re welcome to fuck around.

Well, I do have to talk about these two a little bit. But before I even get to that point….

ARMELINAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

April’s succubus benefactor appears for a moment, a chalkboard with a few notes and a pyramid drawn on it, apparently showing off the hierarchy of demonic entities.

There are a few misconceptions that April and I have to address for a moment! First: I am not possessing April. The voice that you hear is entirely hers. As a succubus I can take on the form of humans, have sexual relations with humans, and even manipulate them. While I can give them certain perks and privileges for…ahem, services, I can’t make them all-powerful super beings. Havoc, the demon that most of you are familiar with, is a much higher classed demon than myself. You see, he would be near the top of the pyramid, right below Lucifer and all that….and I’m down about….here. Middle rank. So while I can cause some trouble and feast on souls, compared to what some of you have already experienced, I’m relatively harmless.

April has entered into a contract with me, in exchange for her services as my Hitman, in effect finding me souls to eat, she actually was given back a bit of her youth while keeping all of her experiences and expertise on certain things, such as her martial arts and wrestling skills. She wanted to be closer to her physical prime going forward in her career and so that was granted. That does NOT mean I can give her magical boosts or a power bonus or have her shoot lightning. I’m a succubus, not an Egyptian God Card.

So to sum it all up: April is younger now, She keeps me happy and well-fed with the souls of contemptible, corrupt rich people (my favorite snack), and she’s doing whatever she does now completely of her free will. Thank you all so much for your time and hopefully my appearance doesn’t startle you. Or at the very least it turns you on. Goodbye now!

And with that, the chalkboard and Armelina are both gone, leaving April to her own devices again.

Now that that’s out of the way, I want to make something very clear to you, Felix. Do I regret what happened to your friends? Yes. Do I wish I could have had the strength to just say no to what was going on and immediately do the right thing? Sure. But I wasn’t going to abandon Hana. She knows it, I knew it, you all knew it too. I do feel bad for some of the things that you had to suffer through. Honestly, with everything that you all have done before all of this nonsense with demons, I find it rich that you would call me a degenerate. Look, for months on end, not one, but TWO supernatural beings were tormenting me, using my very mind like some kind of interrogation room.

Imagine having done something in the past you regret. Now, imagine having to see that image forcefully played in your mind over and over again, with voices whispering telling you how it’s your fault and you’re disgusting, useless and old. Imagine still that they seduce you by promising power and the ability to save your friend from certain death, one of the few people that you actually care about.

Put yourself in my position. Please. Because I’m getting sick of being made out to be the bad guy in all this. Did I sign up with a demon to get some of my youth back and some other perks? You’re damn right I did! What about doing something for myself is tone-deaf? How is me getting to have some fun anything close to Hana and Havoc nearly destroying the fucking world? I mean, If I had the chance to time travel and have this extra bit of youthful vigor for the chamber, I would have. But you all won out.

It wasn’t by lack of skill. It was by other people being kinda fucking stupid and me being outnumbered 3-1 by you and your buddies. I’d be a lot more interested in finding out how it would play out if it were just the two of us. You may THINK you have the answer, but I don’t think I’ve asked you the appropriate questions just yet. And by appropriate questions I mean ripping your arm out of the socket.

And Rebecca, please don’t go the Marie Bouchard patronization route and deign to call me a friend. You know you never liked me, hell you’ve never even respected me. Even when you were trying to talk me out of joining with Havoc, I could always feel the tinge of resentment in your voice. And I’m not going to hide mine. You were a fraction of a second from seeing me win that match instead of you at Final Destination. You were the better woman, or at least the more opportunistic woman, and I’ll never begrudge you that. But what I do hold a grudge over is you and your friends rubbing it in my face, cheating, disrespecting the tradition that people before you built.

The horseshit that you all helped facilitate is as follows:

The death of the Banshee.

The death of Violet Cunningham. Look, I get nobody liked the spooky ugly musclebound she-wolf vampire bitch but that was Marie’s bestest best friend and that’s got to count for something, right?

Jeff X finding a way back from the dead that didn’t involve him fucking some god-like entity or Emmanuelle finding all seven Dragon Balls and wishing him back.

The World Championship Reign of Diantha Rosso. You three being the miserable little shits that you are forced to find friends from other places, bring them all to Odyssey, take the title from you and subject us to the most boring, annoying, and disgraceful World Championship reign since ... .well, Rebecca Filth.

Hana nearly going apeshit and destroying the world. Your friend actually admitted this one. You two idiots TRIED TO FUCK A MARRIED MAN, ONE THAT YOU ALL KNOW HAS DEMONIC ENTITIES AROUND HIM AND HIS WIFE FOR YEARS…AS A STUNT. You facilitated all this shit that the world went through.

THAT I WENT THROUGH!

Every fucking thing that’s happened to this brand the past year, good or bad, can be tied to you three. And honestly, most of the shit that’s happened here is bad. I mean, even when you fuckers lose something bad happens….that’s how we fucking got stuck with Dolly Trump as fucking Sparks Champion!

As angry as I am, as much of a grudge I hold with you three, I don’t want it to get in the way of things I want to do. I’ve spent my life bogged down with enough baggage than to have shit from you guys fester forever. So here’s what I’m going to do: I’m going to fight you. All three of you but especially Felix and Filthy. Not because you both won title matches where I was involved. Not because you’ve made this brand a considerably less safe place just with your presence and oftentimes moronic decisions.

But because I want to settle it. I want to finish it. This isn’t about winning the title. This isn’t about just headlining Final Destination. This is about letting all the frustration out that I have left in me, so I can start Season Six, probably my last here in OWA, with some degree of fucking peace.

I’m sure someone else is gonna step on my toes here in this buildup but I’ll leave that for them to fuck around and do. For now, there is one person and one person only that I want to talk to and that is Hana Nakajima.

Hana Nakajima, I’m going to need you to stop moping like Haruna Sakazaki. This is OWA, not that company in Jersey or JET. Is this as good as it gets? Really? You sitting around all bitter, moping and feeling sorry for yourself? It seems like every time you lose a title you go into a calamitous cycle of self-reflection and self-destruction. And you can’t tell me it’s not a pattern because I keep seeing it every time you lose something precious to you. Forget the past. Havoc’s sway is pretty strong and pretty persuasive. Your husband was under that spell for years and there’s no shame in admitting weakness.

I see your pain. I see your suffering. I acknowledge and respect your desire to be left alone, but I’m going to light a fire, intentionally under your ass now. I’m sick and tired of seeing you feel sorry for yourself. I’m sick and tired of picking up the phone and calling but then not having my calls returned. And I’m sick of you FUCKING SQUANDERING THE MOST TALENT THAT I’VE EVER FUCKING SEEN IN WRESTLING! FUCK DIANTHA! FUCK FILTH! FUCK FELIX! FUCK ALYSSA, HELL, FUCK ME! YOU HAVE THE MOST PURE TALENT OF ANYONE ON THIS ROSTER!

AND YOU’RE FUCKING SQUANDERING IT!

This is where we draw the line in the sand. This is where we figure out if Hana Nakajima can cut it. Here is where we find out if my faith in you has been misplaced for these past four years. What’s it going to be, are you going to remain a soft, underperforming, sullen little fucking crybaby or are you gonna woman up, retrieve your intestinal fortitude from Marie Bouchard’s purse, and become the fucking wrestling machine that you were meant to be?

I believed in you once.

Make me believe again. Note that I’m not asking you, I’M FUCKING TELLING YOU TO. You owe me that much for everything that we’ve been through together. You don’t owe that to the company, to the locker room, to the fans or even your husband.

You owe that to me.

And if it feels like I’m pushing you a little harder than the others, I’m doing it because I know you’re not where you need to be yet. The woman that I saw lose the Goddess title to Marie is not a woman that I can see winning the Clash. That’s not a woman that I can see becoming champion of this world.

You can do it.

So, I’m sure that most of you by now are tired of the sound of my voice and I’m tired of talking to you. Most of what I’m saying is falling on deaf ears. But that’s okay. For the first time in quite some time, I’m actually not in any sort of pain. Yeah, losing a title to Stephanie sucked, but I’d rather that title be revived and kept going by someone I trust to be a fighting champion than just collecting dust on some shelf at home.

This match isn’t about glory to me or even settling scores. It’s about being me. Uninhibited, unburdened by pressure. I’m not a champion with a target on my back and my ego doesn’t require me to win this match to find something interesting to do at Final Destination. I just want to win because ... .well, it’s competition, right? I’ve come close before, very, VERY close to winning one of these, and now I want to see if I can finally get over that hump.

That may sound like covering my ass if I don’t win, but that’s how I feel.

And after having your mind controlled by some demon for months, just having a career back sounds like a win to me. It sounds like most of you think that my career is already dead in the water. I’m going to have fun showing all of you that I’m still one of the best around.

A LOT of fun.

Matsuda, Alyssa Grace, The Banshee, 'Don' Hendrix, Remington Ivory Prescott, DT The Ruler, Felix Hartley and have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos June 1st 2023, 12:25 am by **Noah Krieger**

CLASH OF THE TITANS — PROMO #1 | DREAM WORTH SEEKING.

One full calendar year of standing in front of you, putting my well-being on the line each and every single night that I’ve promised to progress through this dream. Yet, I’m continuously asked this question in a repetitive manner – has it all been worth it?

I’m still standing here, aren’t I?

It’s been one solid year since this promotion requested that I sign my name on the dotted line, and that after the task was completed, that not only to accept that my entire world be altered, but to excel because of it — and there hasn’t been a singular minute that this particular moment hasn’t crossed my mind. Many individuals might deem it fitting to complain, or to travel down the road that’s consistently embarked upon, but that doesn’t fit my narrative. I’ve spent the past 365+ days fighting from the trenches, continuously attempting to find the correct path to a future that once seemed bleak, but now, at this very moment — that couldn’t be further from the truth. As I’ve said before, there’s a reason why I haven’t faded into the depths of irrelevancy, and why my knees haven’t sunk into the canvas, and that’s due to standing tall on my own two feet, no matter if there’s a championship belt around my waist or not, this remains clear.

No matter where I deem myself to travel, whether it be in the past or the not-so-distant future, there have been plenty of highs-and-lows in this industry, but I’ve never once backed down from a challenge, and that’s simply due to fighting being a breath fresh of air for me, it has kept me far away from the blood-stained pavement back in Chicago, and has instead forced me to evolve within the squared circle. This is no longer an escape, it’s exactly where I want to be, and there hasn’t been a moment where I’ve regretted my decision to embark on this chapter of my life. However, as described plenty of times before, this isn’t an easy industry to get involved in, it’s one that you truly need to have the ability to overcome the adversity that comes with this line of work, and completely understand that without resilience keeping your head above water, you’ll inevitably drown.

I’ve involuntarily knocked on death’s door before, failure has been seen from the outside, and the judgment that comes with the inability to claim victory is one that shouldn’t be relived. I’ve always lived by the ideology that redeeming your own shortcomings should be a given, if you’re not willing to grow in your skin, if each loss doesn’t completely envelop your own mind — then that failure will come back to haunt you in the near future. Nonetheless, one failure that I haven’t been able to redeem, one that sticks out like no other, it was my inability to claim the OWA World Championship, and as you might expect — there hasn’t been a single day where it hasn’t crossed my mind, to return here, and make good on my promise.

In my mind, this title embodies the art of professional wrestling, but unfortunately it has been poisoned.

The lineage that this championship embodies, the legacy that it has left behind is enough for anyone to desire to chase after it, but with an individual as heinous as Stark currently holding it hostage, that drive only increases.. I’ve silently watched on as you’ve embarked on a journey that can’t be replicated, one that you can’t come back from, but I’m sure that you’re quite aware of this fact. Many have stood shoulder to shoulder from you, simply desiring one opportunity to finally silence you, but unlike most, this won’t be my first attempt on the primed battlefield, I’ve learned what true competition looks like, how an increasingly difficult task, such as this one, it can change you, better or for worse, it either will prepare you for the biggest step in your career, or will plummet you down to the canvas. But today is not that day.

There’s an indescribable feeling within my gut, one that feels as if it pertains to you, Stark. Let me be frank with you, you’ve had a remarkable reign as the World Champion thus far, and there’s no denying that. Nonetheless, there’s no reason for me to pretend to like you, nor to respect the actions that have led you to remaining champion — you’re a despicable human being. The last time I stood within this squared circle, and challenged for this very championship, there was a particular amount of hatred involved, but respect was still issued out between the two parties, this isn’t the case this evening. Some might be afraid to stand toe-to-toe with an individual who almost seems ‘undefeatable’, but challenging the man who is perceived to be at the pinnacle of the promotion has never frightened me before, and it won’t start now. While you might currently hold the top prize within this industry, and feel invincible because of it, there’s still a small part of you that must feel fragile — and that will be the cause of your downfall. All that you’ve put forth for what aims to be a legendary run, it only takes one man to see past the overconfidence, and make good on the mistakes he once saw past, ensuring that it isn’t repeated. You were once a competitor without the championship to keep you comfortable, there’s no reason why you can’t return to that same position.

It’s only been a matter of days since we last shared the squared circle, but there’s a small part of me that prayed we find our way back to one another, don’t you feel it, as well?

Even if you somehow didn’t, my point still remains clear, CATCH Hound might’ve found the victory over the three of you on Sunday Night KINGDOM, but satisfaction still doesn’t come to mind when the thought of the encounter occurs. That’s the unique aspect of warfare, it doesn’t matter where you might be, the two warriors will still find a way to meet once more. As I’ve told you before, Chris, my issue isn’t exactly with you, but your desire to put me to rest, whether it was for a singular victory or not, I’m not one to allow it to occur. Many hold you to a standard that most can’t meet, but I pride myself on being the exception. Y’see, I’m not like everybody else, there isn’t a residing fear inside of me when looking at your accomplishments, and while your stature is clearly impressive, it isn’t enough. You were once a champion, high above the rest, on top of the mountain if you will for almost an entire calendar year, but the thing that most seem to conveniently forget — is that you lost.

Level me for a moment, will you? After all of this time, why should I be afraid to share a ring with you — is it because the rest feel obligated to feel this way? Both of us are looking towards a similar finish line, one that concludes with punching our one-way tickets to Final Destination V, but what if there was one man who deemed it fitting to make it their first? For the longest time, I’ve heard that you’re the hidden ace, the one who’ll sacrifice anything to accomplish what he’s been chasing after for far too long, but the problem with that plan is you seem to have forgotten that you’re not the only one who has dreamed of this moment.

In this fateful world, the one we must all inhabit, sometimes the unfortunate truth of this tale is that dreams sometimes die. However, that can’t come to a surprise for you, can it, Jeff X? As we’ve seen before, you’re a man who prides himself on tearing apart other individual’s dreams, and claiming them as your own, and while you this specific issue might not be clear to others — there’s not a world where I’d be fooled twice. We aren’t the same. Y’see, when you took the OWA Outlaw Championship away from me, seemingly leaving me with nothing but the ruthless feeling of defeat — all you seemed to care about was the success that came from it. You decided to pray on what many would claim to be a ‘rookie’, attempting to find his place in this industry, and you not only took my championship, but my confidence. Saying that I hold great disdain for you would be an understatement — a truthful one at that.

You may have put me to rest on that night, but as we stand here months later, it’s amusing where we both respectively are, isn’t it? You were of the belief that you'd rid me for the time being, and without the belt that meant so much to me in the first place, there simply was no room for further improvement. You aren’t the first to attempt such a thing, and you most likely won’t be the last, but the difference between the two of us is clear, you never change, you’re the [i[devil[/i] who refuses to leave my nightmares. However, there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do to alter my past, to find a way to avenge my previous failure, and that clearly begins with you. Since our last meeting, I’ve managed to recapture gold, and prove that one loss doesn’t define my career — but it isn’t enough — there’s a certain desire that still resides within my bones to ensure that you realize this as well.

The amusing thing about hatred is that it isn’t exclusive.

It almost seems as if I’ve found enemies within this business for simply being me, for attempting to have a successful career — and that directly correlates to you, JD. It almost feels like yesterday, where you cost me the opportunity to capture the very championship that we’re vying for, and almost put me on the shelf in the process. And come to think of it, it’s quite fuckin’ strange to me that not only do you consistently fail in terms of making good on your promises, but when that failure comes to eventually bite you in the ass — you don’t have the decency to take responsibility for your own shortcomings. You’re incapable of weathering the storm, and in return, you’ll do anything to evade the truth, which is why you felt it necessary to verbally assault my loved ones, as it’s all you’re confident in accomplishing. Nonetheless, if I can be frank for a moment, come Clash Of The Titans, you’ll see the true difference between the two of us, and that’s the unequivocal fact that when it comes down to it, I’ll be there to back up my words, while you look for excuses.

Such can be said for many within this promotion, including Jacob Striker, a man filled with passion and emotion, but is unable to convey it in his overall message. I can relate to you in a certain competitive aspect, while a majority of individuals out there prefer to doubt your abilities, that’s not the approach I’m willing to take — not this time around, atleast. Let’s not forget how you managed to secure the monumental victory in the BOB Winter Games, but what occurred after the fact? Similar to how fate turned out for me at Boiling Point, you were unable to vanquish the heavyweight champion, and had to start fresh at the starting line. That desire that I speak of, the one that we both share, it can no longer be so, it can’t be shared in this light any longer. We both were unable to finish the job when it counted, but unlike you, there’s something around my waist that requires the utmost care, and if I were unable to successfully oust you out of the squared circle, then what kind of champion would I be perceived to be? There’s too much on the line.

Too much on the line to focus on the past.

Since the very moment I stepped into OWA, I’ve preached that without honesty, there’s no trust to be given, so when I say that Jason Long’s return was a pleasant surprise — shit, I’d be lying. I’m sure a majority of you remember the events that led to our shared hatred for one another, but if you somehow can’t gauge your memory in this instance – allow me to refresh them. It was shortly after coming out on top in the Dark Kingdom Tournament, the dark horse finding the path to victory, only to be met with the devil himself, the “Last Mercenary”, who eventually put his dreams of holding the OWA Spartan’s Championship upon his shoulder. Nonetheless, the past is what we make of it, and there isn’t a single thing I’d change about it. If I can be frank for a moment, after months of anguish, attempted regret, and utmost sorrow, I’ve been able to accomplish more than most had anticipated, proving that my defeat against you was merely a roadblock, not the car accident that many perceived it to be – at least from my perspective.

Which is why we’re not the same, our paths are different in every conceivable way, but as well as our respective futures. While I’ve continued to prove my worth day in and day out, you were able to earn everything you ever dreamed of, and allowed it to slip through your fingertips in a matter of months — and do you know why this is? You’ve managed to alter your mind into believing that this was once your livelihood, and now it’s simply a joke, with none of it truly mattering in the slightest. You clearly feel as if this is all owed to you, the hard work is completely over, but that couldn’t be further from the truth — and it’s about time that you learn this hard truth. I simply don’t give a shit if you desire to become a two-time OWA World Champion, because whether you like it or not, I’ll be there to stop you, one way or another. You may want this, but I’ll always desire it more than you. This isn’t your company to own, or to lead, and that’s the truth of the matter in all of this.

It only continues to get personal from here, no matter which lane we choose to take.

Whether we’d like to admit it or not, Arata Asakura has been the pinnacle of this industry for several years, and this truth only continues to evolve. You were the OWA World Champion heading into last year’s Final Destination, the event that we all work all year to attempt to find a place on. Nonetheless, it should be stated that while you walked into the aforementioned event on top of the world, it all came crashing down with a simple three count — and that’s the craziest part of this industry. With this being said, even if respect is ingrained into my soul for your abilities, on a personal level I couldn’t disagree more, you’re the embodiment of evil, someone who should be kept from this championship, but that can only occur if somebody can halt your momentum — and I’m that someone.

There’s a path that I desire to lead, one where my abilities are showcased, to prove that a Chicago-native, who wasn’t groomed to be a soldier, who wasn’t naturally born as a fighter, who fought tooth and nail to make any of this possible could main event Final Destination V! I won’t be able to accomplish this feat if I were to allow you to send me to my own doomsday, as you once did to Micheal Bishop — I fought for him once, and now it’s time to fight for myself. Fear isn’t what I feel towards you, there isn’t a sense of struggle to be felt, this isn’t about saving another man’s life, but rather that ensuring my own. The fighting spirit that I embody won’t be denied, God or not, legend or not, losing to you isn’t an option, just as it once wasn’t months ago — it’s one in the same, similar outcome, different mindset.

This doesn’t only apply to select adversaries, but to allies as well.

Throughout these past few months, confidence is something that had been severely lacking from my own mind, which was clearly taken away from me after the brutal defeat that came from Jeff X. Nonetheless, there’s been two individuals who’ve been able to return to it’s previous entity in a swift manner, with their names of course being Arthur Wakefield Jr. & MYOJIN! With this being said, I can say with full certainty that CATCH Hound has been a blessing in my life, that once seemed like it might lead to a regretful decision, but that clearly hasn’t been the case — but that doesn’t mean I’ll proceed to take it lightly on you two, whatsoever. Arthur, you’ve been a gem of a stablemate, one that stands on the ability to be reliable, but my quest to accomplish what many have called impossible can’t rest on trusting you, not on this night. You’ve got all the abilities to succeed over the rest, you’re a natural talent, but on a personal level, respectfully, only one of us can make it out over the other — and that will be me.

…And the same goes for you, MYOJIN, but you’re already aware of this — hell, you did the exact same to me. You refused to hold anything back when vying for the OWA Spartan’s Championship, you didn’t have any issue attempting to hold me back from accomplishing what was my dream— redemption is what I seeked. And after the fact, there was no sense of frustration conveyed towards you, was there? That’s not who I am, not how I was taught to preach my message, but there is one thing that can be said, from competitor to competitor, this isn’t your night. A day doesn’t go by where I don’t think about what was lost at Boiling Point, and now with my chance for redemption, allies don’t worry me, I won’t find comfort in relying on you, which is why anything goes. No friends, no allies, I’m alone in there, and I’ll thrive due to this.

We’ve been down this path once before, Raivo, and luckily for me, I remember it almost perfectly. Y’see, when war was being split by two sides, between life and death, you chose the latter, you decided to side with the individual who attempted to murder one of our own — a champion of our brand. If I can be honest for a moment, there isn’t anything redeemable about you at the core level, you might have found success on a competitive level, but when push comes to shove — you’re weak. Anybody that doesn’t even bat an eye in aiding someone who would inevitably stab them directly in the back isn’t an individual that can be improved, nor strengthened in any manner — and you’re the same.

I’m sure there’s a part of you, deep inside of you, that expects me to feel afraid, but may I ask why that is in the first place? If it’s due to you holding the OWA Tag Team Championships, alongside DT The Ruler, then you’ve got it all wrong. We’ve gone through this before, I’ve seen you at your absolute best, and at your worst, and in its conclusion — you were put down by those who believe your message was unwarranted, and what makes you believe this time will be any different? You’re delusional, and you always have been, but this time those delusions won’t lead you to an unjustified sacrifice, this won’t be a story worth repeating. When I look at the legacy of this championship, it doesn’t fit your image, and it never will.

These feelings don’t exactly extend to your own partner, and it’d be silly for you to assume as such, and while DT The Ruler isn’t an opposite version of yourself, he’s at least respectable. Once holding the OWA Outlaw Championship with an abundance of grace, truly wearing it with the utmost pride — it was a sight to behold. I still can recall our battle for ages, both of us on the verge of war, desiring to walk out with the prize we both fell in love with. As I’m sure you recall, I managed to come out as the superior competitor that evening — but that doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten the difficulty of the battle. And now that we’re both without the object that somehow bonded us in the first place, the chance to engage in battle once again is appealing.

There’s no denying that decency has long eluded you, but the competitive nature that lives inside of you is incredibly intriguing, which brings me to the focal point — there’s much more at stake now. This isn’t about a select championship, this is about THE title. It’s for the chance to become more than we’ve ever imagined, to prove that we’re the absolute best within this industry, but we can’t do that if either one of us comes out any less than on top — and I’m fully aware that you know this to be true. I’m no longer the unseasoned rookie that you mistakenly underestimated all of those months ago, and if you’re not careful, you’ll slip up for a second time.

Not once.

If you believe that after all of this, that I’ve forgotten about you — well, you’re wrong, Sena. I remember our battle in the Dark Kingdom Tournament Semi-Finals vividly, you impressed me like no other, and a challenge that seemed merely impossible at one point in time. However, with over nine months passing since our selective battle, and the victory that came from it, the narrative still doesn’t change — we’re no longer the ‘rookies’ that most perceive us to be, but a loss still isn’t anticipated. Our paths haven’t crossed in some time, but my message remains the same — I’ll prove who’s the superior competitor — no matter how long it takes.

Endurance will be the difference between the two of us.

I’m not finished yet. How fitting that it ends with you, right?

We’ve known one another since the very beginning of our respective OWA careers, and we’ve emerged in battles like no other, isn’t that right, Chad? Whether it be the opening round of the Dark Kingdom Tournament or our recent King Of The Mountain bout, we’re destined to fight forever. But here’s the thing, there isn’t any part of me, not even deep inside — that wishes to seek battle with you until the end of time. I’ve said it before, and I currently have no issue with repeating myself, respect is earned, not given — and you continue to disappoint me. You once prided yourself on making a mockery of the championship that now rests upon my shoulder, and now you wish to do the same for a belt that represents our brand — well fuck that.

Our previous battles have always concluded one way, and that was with your back on the canvas, and my shadow hovering over it — and this will be no exception. Nothing has changed since the last time we shared a squared circle. I still have absolutely no respect for you, the world doesn’t revolve around you, and without a prize to attach your name to, your time on the top has vanished. And if you believe that you’re going to be able to waltz in here, and reclaim your position as one of the stars of Sunday Night Kingdom — it’s time to think more carefully. I’ve put you to rest twice before, and I’ve got no issue doing so once more, because whether you’d like to admit it or not, saving this promotion from your disgraceful presence is why we’re destined to do this dance.

I’ve been prepping for this night, for Clash Of The Titans, and I aim to survive — as I always do.

Scott Oasis, Alyssa Grace, 'Don' Hendrix, Remington Ivory Prescott, DT The Ruler, Felix Hartley and Chad Ecclestone have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos May 31st 2023, 9:49 pm by **Tomomi Shinozaki**

A month and a half ago

(The scene opens up in a somewhat dingy wrestling gym, with two opponents training in the ring, with a middle-aged man in a tracksuit intently watching along. One opponent performs an arm drag and wrestling trainer gives a silent nod, as they look up for his approval. The sound of a door closing in the distance is heard, and as the camera pans over to the entranceway we see Tomomi with a slight grin on her face as she makes her way over to the ring.)

Tomomi Shinozaki: Sensei Kenji! Hiiiiii!

(Tomomi goes in for a hug but Sensei Kenji couldn’t seem less interested in her arrival. Confused Tomomi takes a step back, and looks at the two other wrestlers in the ring. Their focus seemed to have pivoted over to Tomomi. She recognizes them, but only slightly, as they only had just started training when she was making her leave to OWA.)

Suzu Ogawa: Hey Tomo. Nice to see you.

Sensei Kenji: Hey, I didn’t tell you to stop. Again, do it again.

(The girls go back to their training, as Tomomi turns her attention back to her Sensei Kenji.)

Tomomi: It’s nice to see you. How are things? Seem like training is going well.

(Sensei Kenji doesn’t look, but this time does respond)

Sensei Kenji: What are you doing here Tomomi?

Tomomi: Well, I asked for some time off from OWA, and they granted it. I wanted to surprise you, so here I am. Surprise...?

(Tomomi let’s out a weak awkward laugh. Kenji just shakes his head in disgust.)

Sensei Kenji: So that’s it then. You quit OWA, and now you’re back here.

(Tomomi feverishly shakes her head.)

Tomomi: N-no way! I didn’t quit.

Sensei Kenji: You left when things got hard, and came back home where it’s comfortable. One week turns into two, two into three, three into a month. You get back to the norm here, and then you start taking bookings around Japan. You like the feeling of that because once again it becomes easy to you. Next thing you know, you’re fully back here, and the dream of America dies.

(Tomomi rolls her eyes, and puts on a little smirk.)

Tomomi: Ok I think you’re being a little ridicu-

(Before Tomomi has time to react, her Sensei Kenji reaches back and slaps her across the face. Tomomi steps back in shock, holding her cheek where she was slapped, and the two students stop wrestling again. Sensei Kenji clearly very upset, starts going in on Tomomi.)

Sensei Kenji: YOU WANT TO QUIT? QUIT. You’ve already embarrassed not only yourself, but me enough. What did you think it would be like over there? You signed to one of the biggest wrestling companies in the world, and you thought it would just be a cake walk? You’re an embarrassment to me now. I vouched for you, I thought you could be the next big star, but what do you do? Quit. I don’t want you back here. I don’t want you in my dojo, are you kidding? After everything I did to put you in the position that you were put in, this is how you repay me? What’s worse is that I actually know that you CAN do it, it’s just that you don’t want to. I am so mad, I just want to forget that you were ever even a student of mine.

Tomomi: I-I… I didn’t…

Sensei Kenji: Didn’t what? Didn’t quit? You’re here, not at work, you’re in Japan talking with your past. This will get you nowhere.

Tomomi: I just needed a reset, that’s all.

Sensei Kenji: A reset.. You just needed a reset after having one of your best performances ever. Let me guess, you thought that you gave it your all, and your all wasn’t good enough so fuck it? That’s what you thought?

Tomomi: No.. I…

Sensei Kenji: Save it. I watched every one of your matches, and you know the impression I got? You were a shell of your former self. You have all the tools, you can be the best to ever do it, and you don’t.. Why? Because you give up when things get hard. And I know, you have anxiety, you have depression, but guess what? So does the majority of the world. Have you been taking your meds?

Tomomi: Well…

Sensei Kenji: Shut the fuck up, I know you haven’t. I don’t want you back here. I want you back in OWA, I want you to ACTUALLY give it your all. That means regiment, that means actually trying. You can’t use anxiety, and depression as a crutch, you’re killing me with that shit. You NEVER did that when you were here, and now it seems that’s all you can talk about. Lose, talk about depression. Lose, blame the anxiety. You can’t do this anymore. How about if you lose, you get better? How about stop thinking, and start DOING.

Tomomi: YOU DON’T THINK I’M TIRED OF THIS FUCKING BULLSHIT? You’re not the one that gets to play the victim here. You trained me yes, but it’s MY life that I’m fucking up. It’s me, and only me. All these people in this company think I’m not who I know I am because I can’t get out of my own way, I’m in hell. Every single week it’s the same. I was supposed to be this Japanese prodigy and what do I have to show for it? Nothing. I have spent like 8 months in this company, and I’ve had 2 championship matches and failed both times.

Sensei Kenji: Well at least there’s some fire out of you.

Tomomi: I’m just tired. I’m just so tired.

Sensei Kenji: But do you still want it?

Tomomi: Of course, more than anything. Do you really think I put all this time, effort, blood, sweat, and literal tears into this just to go out with a whimper?

Sensei Kenji: Then why are you here? Why are you telling me and not your coworkers?

(Tomo looks down in silence)

Sensei Kenji: I know you. I know the real you, and what you were during your time over there, wasn't the real you. But here’s the thing, you went alone, and from what I could see, you went unprepared.

Tomomi: It would appear that way yes.

Sensei Kenji: You had a ton of adjustment to do, culturally, wrestling style-wise, and just all the different personalities. It was a culture shock.

Tomomi: To say the least, yes.

Sensei Kenji: I won’t allow you to fail. During your title match against Dr Bethany Hastings, I saw that fire in you. I believe that you put all your best efforts in that, felt you still got nowhere, and just deflated completely. But what you have to realize is that your best efforts are more than good enough. Sure you lost that match, but you weren’t even the one pinned. It was just a bit of bad luck. After that, you gave up mentally, and that’s why you’re here.

Tomomi: Yeah… But I really did just want a reset. I did plan on going back regardless.

(Kenji reaches his hand out and puts it on Tomo's shoulder and let's out a sigh.)

Sensei Kenji: Look, I might have overreacted a little. Saw you going out like that, and you just randomly popped up here, I thought the worst. I apologize. But like I said, I won’t allow you to fail, so how long are you here?

Tomomi: Like a month or so.

Sensei Kenji: So what we’re going to do; we’re going to train every single second of every day during this month. I’m going to get you mentally prepared to go back to OWA. And when we go back in a month; we’re going to right this thing, ok?

Tomomi: Ok… Wait we?

Sensei Kenji: Yes, we. If it’s alright with you; I would like to accompany you back to America, and become your manager.

Tomomi: Wait, but… What about the dojo?

Sensei Kenji: Ah, they’ll be alright; I have a full staff of people just waiting to take over for me. Anyway, how many times to I get a chance to help my star pupil reach her full potential in a foreign land?

(Tomomi jumps up and bear hugs Sensei Kenji. This was the happiest she’d been in a long time. She knew that the hard work had just begun, but now she felt that she didn’t have to do this all on her own. She now had someone by her side, and that boosted her confidence tenfold)

Present day

Tomomi: It’s been a while hasn’t it? I doubt many thought that they would see me again. My own Sensei Kenji also had his doubts, but here I am. I think I have to apologize because quite frankly I didn’t give it my best efforts not too long ago. But hitting the reset button, I can actually say that I feel like I can actually live up to the potential that I have. I’m sure everyone will laugh at that because what do I have other than my word? It’s not like I’ve followed through with much since I’ve been here. But I’ve come back, fully aware of my mistakes. I watched back matches and saw the spineless coward that I was. I’m embarrassed by the way I acted, behaved, and just let myself get in my own way. I know, that whatever was holding me back, it wasn’t talent. I went back to Japan, trained as hard as I possibly could, and now I’m back ready to take on anyone. People might scoff at that and say that I was just wrestling lower-level talent in Japan, but hey, I assure you they’re, quite good over there.

Sensei Kenji: I can attest to that. Trained them myself!

Tomomi: And even that will get a laugh, because if I’m the best that Sensei Kenji has, how good can they possibly be? But the truth is, you’ve never seen Tomomi Shinozaki at her best. You’ve never seen the true Tomomi Shinozaki. I have been a different person ever since coming here, and it’s due to just a culture shock. I have gotten opportunities off of raw ability, but that’s not enough. I know that, and I’m not ok with what I produced. I have built up a reputation for being a girl that isn’t suited for wrestling. A reputation for being too sweet, too kind, not ready to take on what this company has. I am looked down upon, At this point, it's fine with me. Not in the way that I want it to be this way forever, but right now with everyone's eyes elsewhere that gives me a good opportunity to surprise people. No one thinks I can make anything out of myself, so they won't see what's about to come. My match against Bethany Hastings was only a taste of what I can do, and honestly, had Rebecca Brookes not been in the match, I could've actually won the damn thing. Let's be honest, there was only one fish out of water in that match, and it was her. Do I think that makes me entitled to another title match? No, I mean I think I need to earn that opportunity, but instead of focusing in on the outcome, I could focus in on what I did. What I did was actually incredible. After that, I got attacked and had to rethink my life choices, because ow. But that was the old me. I am born anew, and ready to take on everyone that thinks that I just don't have it.

Sensei Kenji: Look here you little bitches. You think that you can walk all over Tomomi? Well you can't. We're done with that now. She's been in my dojo, I've been putting her through physical hell, and there is nothing that you can do that I haven't done to inflict pain upon her.

Tomomi: Ok, relax, sounding a little weird...

Sensei Kenji: Oh? How so? I'm just saying I put the hurting on you, got the wood out, and just tanned ya!

Tomomi: Context! Oh my GOD! He hit me with kendo sticks.

Sensei Kenji: What? Did I say something wrong?

Tomomi: What my... good-hearted sensei is trying to say is; I put a lot of work into coming back. I'm not going to just come back to do the same old same old that I was doing. I trained hard, tried different moves, and now I'm just not going to be a name on a piece of paper that people look at and think it's just another easy win for them. There are a ton of names here, a lot of tough competitors that will be hard to beat. Felix Hartley, the first title match I had was against you, and you're really tough. You're also a huge asshole. You try to bully people, especially if they're vulnerable to get an upper hand on them. I wasn't ready when we first faced off, not in the slightest. You think that you've earned a right to treat people poorly because you're so successful, but the truth is, no one deserves to be treated like that. I know what I said the first time that we faced off, and that was that I was in your head. I wasn't, I was just trying to cope. Trying to think of any reason why this person would choose to be such a jerk for no reason. Pure and simple you just think you're better than everyone. Truthfully, you're not. You have your flaws, and I can expose them. You can think of me the same exact way you did back then, but little might you know, time continues forward, and nothing stays the same. You might have had my number then, but this time? I guess we'll just have to see.

Sensei Kenji: Yeah, don't be such a bitch.

Tomomi: Input not needed! Now some of you I never faced. Someone like Bea Havertiz, all she could come up with, was that I am small. Ok? Good one? You know I might not have shown much when I was here not too long ago, but the fact that you can simply write me off due to my size, is just stupid. I'll be honest. There's a reason that I got here, and if you look at professional wrestling through a microscope you can see that everyone comes in all shapes and sizes. The truth probably is, you don't know who I am, and you don't know anything else to say. You can measure someone's height, but you can't measure their heart. As cliche as that might be, I just think comparing height isn't really the best way to debate whether or not someone is capable enough of winning a match. But hey, maybe you do have an advantage, with how plastic you seem to be I doubt you feel much pain to begin with. Luckily for me, I think your overinflated ego might get the best of you, and you'll probably just wind up getting shocked that I'm capable of actually taking you. But then of course, I doubt you'll be able to see this, seeing as I am just so short.

Sensei Kenji: Good, this is good.

Tomomi: Ok, you don't need to be like this reassuring, I got it. Now, Bethany, you might feel really confident about what happened during our match, but should you be? I was at one of the lowest points in my career, and I outperformed you. You can try to deny it all you want. You can try and make it seem like it wasn't a contest, but the truth is, I had you on the ropes. During our entire encounter with our war of words, you had no idea what you were talking about. You go on these programs try to talk about shit that you don't know anything about, and it's the same when it comes to wrestling. You embarrass yourself, and this company every time you open your mouth, and I think I speak for everyone when I say, would you kindly shut up? Now I don't think I deserved a rematch one on one, but still, I don't think you would've given me one regardless. You know you barely escaped. I know in your warped reality it was nothing but mere child's play. But if you really paid attention; if you really knew what was going on, you know that if it was just you and I, you didn't stand a chance. Now I'm back, body and mind, all the way back, and in a way better than I ever was before. My rest has made me feel born again, and now with someone by my side; being able to see what I don't; I have a better way of dealing with everything that it takes to be a professional wrestler. So to sign off, I just want to thank you, Sensei Kenji.

(Tomo turns to Kenji and bows her head.)

Tomomi: I know that wasn't performing up to standards, and I take full responsibility for that. You will never catch me lacking again.

Sensei Kenji: Thank you Tomo-chan. I believe this is going to be a great venture for both of us. Though my wrestling career might be done, I think I can help blossom yours to the most of your potential. And it starts with this match! Give them hell, show them what you can do, and I mean what you can REALLY do. Not this watered-down timid shit that you were doing.

Tomomi: Got it... Now all I can do is show everyone what I've been working on. I can't wait to show you.

(Camera fades to black)

Alyssa Grace, Elijah Hampton, Remington Ivory Prescott and DT The Ruler have spoken. It’s such good shit!

“A lot can change in a year.

Last year, I was the most dominant Openweight Champion that Odyssey had ever seen. I stood here and told the upper echelon of this brand that the Clash was mine. That I was going to take it from them and go on to headline Final Destination and become Two Belts Bex.

I was laughed at. I was ignored. Barely anyone paid attention to the whore at all.

It was expected. I was used to being counted out and overlooked. I was used to Aria propping up the same tired bitches over and over again and handing title shots to her select faves time and time again. And I knew that in order to move up in the card, I would have to fight for myself. Because no one was going to see my talent. No one was going to pluck me out of obscurity and put me at the forefront of the roster like I fucked deserved. It didn’t matter that I had beaten their Goddess Champion. It didn’t matter that I was the longest reigning champion on Odyssey. That I was undefeated.

I was invisible.

So at the Clash of the Titans last year, I made you all fucking see me. I eliminated every single person that was supposed to win the clash. The frontrunners were all disposed of by ME. Jonetta, Liz, The Banshee. And I stood alone in the middle of the ring, as your Final Girl. A woman who could no longer be ignored. A woman who would no longer be pushed to the back of the line. I cashed my cheque to Final Destination and I made sure that my match was one for the ages.

People will say that the Clash made my career. But that’s bullshit. Rebecca Filth was destined for greatness long before I ever stepped foot in the Clash. No. I made my fucking career. And I did it by betting on myself. By relinquishing my Openweight Championship so that I wouldn’t have a safety net. I GAVE UP my title because I knew what was going to happen at Final Destination. I knew what I was capable of. Even if my opponents didn’t. And I didn’t want a fallback plan. I didn’t want an alternative. There was only one option for me - walk into Final Destination with nothing. And walk out with two championships.

And I did just that. I retired Cloud Matsuda on Odyssey. I showed April that her reign was nothing more than a facade I created for her. And then I walked into the main event of Final Destination and I stared the chosen favourite in the face and I laughed. I took the so-called future of this brand to her limits and pinned her in that ring. I turned her life and her career upside down in that moment. And I wasn’t done yet.

I became the Undisputed Whore. And I didn’t just stand in the middle of the ring and sing my own praises. I scoured the roster and pulled women up beside me. I made opportunities for women who I knew deserved them. I took the hierarchy of Odyssey and I turned it upside down, just like I said I would. The Clash didn’t make my career. But it was the catalyst for everything that Odyssey has become over the last year.

I changed the game and if you deny that, you are lying to yourself. The women who used to stand at the top of this brand are either gone or cowering in my fucking shadow. Complacency is no longer tolerated. Mediocrity is no longer a main facet of Odyssey. You want a spot at the main event? You better fucking earn it. Just like I had to.

When I stood at the top of this roster as the Undisputed Women’s World Champion, people respected me. You may have hated me and everything I stood for, but no one was ever able to question whether or not I deserved it. I had earned my spot. And anyone that stepped to me knew that they were going to get the fight of their fucking life. I went on to have the most dominant and awe inspiring Championship reign ever. I racked up four defenses quicker than ANY woman that came before me or after me. And even when I lost my championship, I was never pinned. I to this day have never lost a championship by being pinned or submitting. I set the standard and I held it firm.

And that’s why so many of you respect me but hate me. You hate that over the last year, I have transformed Odyssey into a show that you can’t keep up with. You hate that Thotyssey has main evented every show. Every pay per view. That I have made my way onto posters when I wasn’t even on the card. You hate that all eyes were on us. I saw your mediocrity and I made sure that when I was headlining MY show, mediocrity was nowhere to be seen. I have never run from a fight. I have never accepted failure as a part of my story. No. Instead I went unpinned for nearly two years. Instead I saw opportunities and I took them. Instead, I marched into a war that I didn’t really have a stake in because it was the right thing to do. Because Rebecca Filth does not run. She doesn’t hide. She stands, she grits her fucking teeth and she fights.

Because I am the embodiment of what a champion is. Of what the face of Odyssey should be. I am the embodiment of what Odyssey stands for. And it makes every single one of you sick. That I backed up every word I’ve ever said to you. That every time you’ve stepped into the ring with me you have faltered. That I am the standard bearer of Odyssey and none of you have ever been able to stack up. It kills you. It eats at you. That this comes easy to me. That when I step between the ropes I don’t just win, I set records. I make history. I defy every single odd and I somehow end up standing tall.

I did it at the Clash of the Titans. I did it at Final Destination. And I did it when I faced Aria Jaxon last week on Odyssey. When I faced a woman that most of you look up to. A woman who broke barriers and shattered glass ceilings. A woman who coddled so many of your careers and placed championship opportunities at your feet just for you to squander them. A woman who you all want to emulate. A career that any of you would fucking kill for. And she stood in the ring with me and she gave it everything she fucking had. A woman that many of you regard as one of the best and most decorated women’s wrestlers of our generation. And I put that bitches shoulders to the mat and I pinned her clean. The ONLY person to do it in years. I beat her ass so bad she had no choice but to shake my fucking hand at the end. Because she knew in that moment what I already knew - that I changed the game. That I shifted the standards on Odyssey. That I raised the bar to a level that she didn’t know was fucking possible. And in that moment, she accepted defeat and accepted that Rebecca Filth is the best women’s wrestler on this fucking roster. Hands down. No question.

I’m not just the Final Girl. I’m the final girl of final girls. I don’t just win matches. I beat your icons. I change the world. The very ground you stand on on Odyssey? I made that for you. You’re welcome. The stage you all step out onto week after week, you can thank me for that. And not just because I put my literal life on the line in a war most of you were too pussy to fight for. Not just because I single handedly made the move that shifted the entire trajectory of the war by treating Edward like a person. But because the Odyssey that exists today was built by me. By my blood. My sweat. My tears. My hard fucking work.

And one year after I won the Clash and changed this fucking brand forever. I am going to do it all over again. But this time, I am walking in on the other side. Not ignored. Not invisible. After everything I’ve accomplished in the last year, I know that I am walking into this ring as target number one. The front runner. The person that everyone knows will be their biggest challenge. The woman that everyone knows has beaten their faves and most likely, themselves. The favourite to walk out of the Clash of the Titans 2023 as the winner and stamp her ticket to the Final Destination main event yet again.

And I’m not afraid. Slipping in under the radar last year was fun. But running through the entire roster when they know I’m coming? That’s a sweeter victory. Watching you all feign respect and tell me that you will be the one to finally eliminate Rebecca Filth from the Clash. Watching you prepare for me and still fail, that makes me weak in the knees. That is the kind of victory I can sink my fucking teeth in. And when I walk through a battlefield of competitors who all want to destroy me and me alone, and I put each and every one of them down, when I crush their hopes and dreams under my boot and I am yet again the last woman standing, that’s a fucking moment. And we all know that what I do is create moments. You put an accolade in front of me? I’m going to take it. And being the second woman to ever win the Clash of the Titans twice is the next accolade I want. Being the ONLY woman to ever win two Clash of the Titans and win the corresponding Final Destination main events? That’s the future for Rebecca Filth.

I want to walk into the biggest stage of them all and stare across the ring at Diantha Rosso and beat the everloving shit out of her. This is personal. I want to hurt her for everything she did to my friends and to me. I owe her that. Just like you all, I want her to see me coming and not be able to do anything to stop me.

Just like Alyssa Grace did at Final Destination. A year changed everything for you didn’t it, 'Lys? Actually, it was that one moment at Final Destination. When I beat your ass so bad you were forgotten. When I shoved you off the top of the mountain and into obscurity. It’s fucking hysterical to me, listening to you judge MY reign? A woman who has two world titles to her name but has never been able to get a successful defense under her belt. You couldn’t even beat Devi. And when I beat you, you ran. You hid. You cowered in a tag team division that no one fucking cared about and you coasted for months with your little bestie. Do you know what I did when I lost my belt? I fought to get back into the Chamber and told Banshee that I was going to take it back. I never let my foot off the fucking gas. I certainly didn’t slow down. Even without a belt, who graces the main event week in and week out? I never let anything hold me back.

What you did after our match at Final Destination showed me everything I needed to know about you. You’re fucking weak. You have no grit, no integrity. And you turning on Liz Karlson doesn’t mean shit. Instead of taking accountability for your actions, you want to blame Liz for all of your failures? But she’s the one that qualified for the chamber while you got your ass beat by Felix. She didn’t cause you to rest on your laurels. That was all you. And it was because you know what I know, that you don’t stack up anymore. Just like Aria, you reached your peak. You wanna relive your glory days? Go back to the Goddess division and try and take that belt from Marie. Because I can guarantee that you aren’t taking this Clash from me. You haven’t main evented anything this year and you won’t be main eventing Final Destination.

This little tough girl act isn’t fooling me Alyssa. No one is impressed that you did what we’ve all done - beat up Liz Karlson. Congratulations. It doesn’t make you edgy. It doesn’t make you a threat. It just showed all your cards. That you are scared of your own irrelevancy and you’re trying to push that blame onto anyone but yourself.

It’s funny, you and Hana have that in common. The inability to take accountability. The inability to accept that you fucking suck. Hey, Hana. Did I miss the thank you card you sent for heading into a war with you in order to help YOUR HUSBAND exercise a fucking demon out of you? You seem awfully ungrateful to the whores you shit on for a year who walked into a fucking arena and did everything in their goddamn power to save you from yourself. From the shitty fucking decisions YOU MADE. Because yes, Havoc twisted your little brain. But it was your own weakness that allowed it. Don’t you know how demon’s work? They prey on the vulnerable. On the sad and pathetic. And if you weren’t such a colossal fucking loser, Havoc wouldn’t have been able to tell you that you needed them.

You lost match after match. You lost the Clash. You sat outside that ring and you told Havoc to take over because without him, you were nothing. And the funny thing is, you ate shit in your first defense since being back to little ole Hana. So I guess he was right all along. That without Havoc, you are nothing. Your World Title reign. Your Goddess Championship reign? Nothing but paper. Nothing but Havoc’s achievements. You spent the year showing us all that Hana Nakajima can’t do anything herself. And at the Clash of Titans, history will repeat itself. You will get unceremoniously dumped over that top rope. And you won’t have anyone to blame but yourself. But this time, Havoc can’t make it all better. This time you’ll have to deal with the crushing realization that this roster doesn't need you. There’s no room for you in the main event. Marie has made you irrelevant in the Goddess division. I guess you can try and fight Bethany for the Sparks Title and see what psychosomatic reason she has for your failures.

I already know what she’ll say about me. Daddy didn’t love me. Or maybe daddy loved me too much when he snuck into my room at night. That I’m broken and nothing but a disgusting little whore who needs to stop spreading her legs for the world to see. But that’s boring, Bethany. I’ve heard it all before. It doesn’t matter why I am the way I am. What matters is that I’ve been through hell and I’m still standing. What matters is that I feel no shame for who I am and what and who I’ve done to get where I am today. And where I am is above you on the card, every fucking day. You should show me some respect. Because the only reason that the belt you hold so dear means anything is because I made it mean something. You’re the one bringing disgrace to the Sparks Championship. You’re the only person that needed help to win or defend that belt in over 2 years. There will be no numbers advantage for you at the Clash. Nah. You’ll be trapped in that ring with all the women who you’ve pissed off for the last year and you’ll have nowhere to run. And if Felix doesn’t get hands on you first, I’ll happily send you sailing over the top rope destined to NEVER recreate the magic that I had with that same belt. You will never stack up to me and you will never see a Final Destination main event, not for as long as I stand and breathe.

And the same goes for my dear friend April. Girl, the past year you have fallen apart. You sided with a demon to try and save your friend. You let Havoc manipulate you. And look at you now. Another Hana. With a demon inside you, you still couldn’t beat Cloud to retain your American Dream Championship. Awkward. Listen, April. When I beat you last year, you were supposed to lick your wounds and accept that your time had passed. Instead you kicked around for a year doing nothing and being annoying. Sweets, you had your title run. You had your Final Destination moment. Your career has jumped the shark. Let that demon eat you from the inside out and go home. Because I am so done exorcizing people in my spare time.

The rest of the field doesn’t matter. All of you nameless bitches that everyone knows will falter and be shoved over the top rope? Ruri, Dani, Cassie, Josie, Gwen - none of you have what it takes to win the Clash. None of you have what it takes to usurp me or to go toe to toe with Diantha Rosso. You can barely beat one another.

The only other people in this match that matter are my fellow Thotline members. Marie, Devi, Angie, Felix. I love you all, truly. But inside that ring our allegiances mean nothing. Inside that ring you have all shown me in the past that there is no loyalty. There is no sisterhood. There is only blood and warfare. And I’m okay with that. Because most of you know what happens when you step against me. Devi has eaten more than one loss at my hand. Angie the same. Hell, she is so fucked up from the war that she has convinced herself that she is some sleeper assassin. Because coming to grips with the fact that she killed someone is too much. Because the trauma is suffocating. Trust me, I know. And what everyone outside of us will never understand, is that the war shaped us. It made us stronger. And they can laugh at our trauma or roll their eyes that we bring it up one short month later. But it should fucking scare them. Because we have been through something that would kill them. Like Aria said, it’s fucking stupid to try and fight someone who is willing to DIE for this when they weren’t. While you were fighting for gold and contenderships, we were fighting for the very ground you stand on. We are not the same.

The Thotline is a different breed of people. And when it’s just us standing alone in that ring, they will have to see it. But you will also have to see me - as your biggest challenge.

Marie, no one was more proud of you than me when you defeated Hana and took that Goddess Championship. Your year has been impressive. Tag belts, the Outlaw belt and now this. I see greatness in your future. I know that one day you will hold the biggest belt of them all. But you are just getting your feet wet as a champion. Thanks to Hana you never got to have a long reign with your other belts. But this time will be different. I know it. And I know that you will make it to the final few of this match. But past me? I forgive Marie, but I never forget. I may owe Diantha a receipt. But I owe you one too. Because while Angelina is part of the reason I no longer hold that top belt. You are too.

You cost me my top prize and when we’re standing inside that squared circle, I don’t care about our personal feelings. All I will be thinking about is that belt. About how hard I fought for it. About what it meant to me. About how you so carelessly and easily took it from my grasp and I will have no choice but to deliver a bit of payback in that ring. No hard feelings, Marie. When the dust settles, I will hug you and I will tell you I love you. But bell to bell? I will kick the shit out of you. I’ll show you why I’m the standard bearer on Odyssey and why one win over a lacklustre Hana Nakajima does not mean that you are ready to stand at the upper echelon of this brand and face the best of the best. You are green. You are inexperienced. And you are stepping into my world now.

And we all know what will happen at the end of this match, don’t we? We all know who the final two will be. It will be the last two women you saw as Odyssey faded to black last week. Felix Hartley and Rebecca Filth. Two former Women’s Champions. Two fucking killers. Two war-torn veterans. Two women who no one on this goddamn roster can touch. Felix, I respect you more than anyone. I was willing to die for you more than once. And I know you want revenge over Diantha. I know what that loss cost you. I know that it eats you alive. And I understand what you’re feeling more than anyone. But I have let my feelings cloud my judgment in the past. I have let my love for Thotyssey trump what I wanted for me. But not any longer.

You have had a tumultuous year, Felix. And this isn’t what I wanted. I wanted you to be the champion right now. I wanted to walk into this match with the goal of facing YOU at Final Destination. The Thotyssey main event that the world fucking deserves. But unfortunately, that isn’t our reality. And as much as I want to see you succeed, not at the expense of my own legacy.

This is my chance to make history. This is my chance to do what I did last year and main event the biggest stage of them all. And no one is going to stand in my way. Not my sisters. Not my friends. Not my enemies. Not no-name bitches that no one cares about.

This is the Rebecca Filth show. This is the brand that I spent the last year building and defending with every bit of who I am. And you all know that this is a match that I am going to scratch and claw my way to the bitter end of, just like I did last year. You all know that I am the frontrunner for a reason. Not like those bitches last year. I deserve every accolade, every bit of respect and every nervous glance from my opponents. Because I have done nothing but succeed and mold this brand in my filthy image for an entire year. And I’m not done. Thotyssey will not crumble under our own aspirations. Because we’re better than all of you.

Because I am better than all of you. And this is my match to lose. And deep down, each and every one of you know that.

A year can change a lot. But it can’t change the fact that I am still the Final Girl. And that the Odyssey you all fight for is an Odyssey I built and carried on my back. This is my show. And this is my Clash. That won’t change.”

Alyssa Grace, The Banshee, 'Don' Hendrix, Remington Ivory Prescott, DT The Ruler, Lazarus Arjen, Felix Hartley and marielacorriveau have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos May 31st 2023, 11:08 am by **VaeVictisBD**

DEUS EX MACHINA

“Can we just take a moment to appreciate the level of omnipotence on display?

Have we no other choice but to acknowledge your ascension to wrestling godhood, Diantha?

Or are you just so absolutely fucking retarded?

Allow me to answer that for you by addressing that lovely little screenplay you just performed for all of us. Would you like to know what it is I love most about the Diantha Cinematic Universe? It’s not the countless two-dimensional characters you’ll surround yourself with, not the unconvincing dialogue they’ll use to hype up your phony badassery — it's not even all the world-building that serves only the purpose of kissing your own ass. While you’ll swear to its authenticity and those things alone are so rich in entertainment value by how completely pathetic they are; what truly ascends your craft to the level of mastery in the storytelling arts is right there in the ever-so-persistent main character syndrome. It truly is a precious little world you’ve fabricated yourself. Whenever the main character of Diantha Rosso shows even a shred of imperfection, you’ll quickly retreat to the writers' room and play some revisionist historian to Deus Ex Machina how much of it is made by design. And I feel like we’ve now witnessed your magnum opus — the true depths of your insecurities to pen yourself the ability of omnipotence. I know during our first encounter months ago, it made you extremely upset that I was willing to offer you forward any form of advice. I’ll shoulder the blame of even entertaining the idea that you could be something better through some guidance you’ve been sorely lacking. And perish the thought; I’ve been made painfully aware how lost a cause it is in attempting to get anything through that skull as thick as a dam of yours. So I can only imagine you would love nothing more than the opportunity to enlighten me. Perhaps then, and only then, will I be able to understand what dangers await me at Clash of the Titans.

Perhaps you could explain to me how you managed to shoot your vignette in the past?

Or how you managed to perfectly respond reactionary to things I wouldn’t say until days later?

I’d like to open the floor for you to explain any of these glaring continuity errors in your “truth.”

If I can be completely transparent with you; on any other occasion, I wouldn’t pay your set pieces any mind. They’re usually such content padding the only thing it has ever proven a testament to is the viewers' — and in turn, my great but far from limitless — patience. I feel compelled to make an exception this one time mostly for my own amusement, but also because you’ve been boastful and proud about how nothing entwined with this universe you’ve made yourself is “cinematic.” Then let’s entertain what you believe; let’s dissect this together. Odyssey, May 21st, you extend to me the match at Clash of the Titans, I accept under the condition that it’s a Steel Cage match. We know this already, but it’s critical in establishing the timeline you’ll soon butcher. That same conversation, I smash a bottle of wine over your head, and kick you in the face before leaving you unconscious on the restaurant floor. And what a demanding performance, if I do say so myself. We cut to your vignette now. EMTs are rushing in, For The Minorities have found you on the floor bleeding from the lacerations of glass sticking out of your head — all tending to the fallen World Champion in a dramatic scene. And in a testament to her sheer, unadulterated badassery; not only does she refuse the medical assistance but demands all but a cameraman exit the scene to allow the scorned Diantha Rosso to spread her message painted in blood and wine with a smile on her face. Ah, chills Diantha! Chills! I’m so ready to hang on every single word like my life depends on it! … but then you started to talk. Specifically, you began to talk about things in reaction to words I didn’t say until May 27th in my own vignette. Which, I have to say Diantha, for someone who is fixated on the numbers associated with defenses and days holding the championship; you demonstrated a poor constitution for math by somehow quantum leaping seven whole days into the future.

Unless you’re suggesting it took Maggal seven days to find you in your last-known location.

Or that it took only a bottle to the head and a kick to the chin to render you so defeated.

To which; that’s quite a damning thing to release to the world ahead of Clash of the Titans — where I’m supposedly in danger.

That wouldn’t make any sense now, would it? No, because if you were still bleeding from the strike to the head; the wounds surely would have closed before then. I mean you made a grand display to point out how blood-stained your face was which sure, doesn’t immediately suggest it’s fresh. But we occupied a restaurant with staff in it. Not one of them thought to stop the bleeding or clean you up — much less get an ambulance for you. So, let’s strike that theory out. So you wake up from your little nap, refuse assistance, and demand the platform to respond to things I wouldn’t say until a week after the fact — let’s run with this theory instead. How would you be so reactionary? Do you believe I cut my promo standing over your unconscious body? Because, given the timeline of events, there’s no other logical explanation how you perfectly responded to sentiments I made in the future of the supposed incident — especially if you took no time to start responding after immediately coming to consciousness. I’m aware this is getting a little long-winded. I know it’s just a series of asking rhetorical questions about honestly something so insignificant, putting more thought into it then clearly you had. But given how you proclaim to speak only truths, nothing built on fallacy, and how you’ll go to any lengths to protect them, this leaves us with only one possible explanation for all of this… evidently, hitting you with that wine bottle awakened some clairvoyance that had been dormant until that exact incident, granting you the ability of future-sight that rivals the gods themselves. I mean it would be ridiculous to suggest that you re-staged the whole scene in a pitiful attempt to salvage some semblance of your pride, all the while getting opportunity to for a little bit of pretending I haven’t presented a very serious threat to you. That would only sound more pathetic.

But that’s what I find so reliable about you; I call you insecure and you prove me right.

I point out how fake you’ve made yourself, and you prove me right.

I call you desperate, and you go out of your way to prove how right I am.

How I’ve always been. I can see why you’d think I had yourself and Emmanuelle confused for one another — add that to the tally of no one else mentioning Emmanuelle in the first place, yet she’s somehow integral to the plot — as you’re both completely deluded with the idea of being the main character all the time. But no; safe to say I’ve been right on the money so far. My ability to remain consistent remains unmatched, especially in comparison to your inability to do so. Such as your insistence to say that you don’t care at all about your brother — how you don’t seem to understand why I throw his existence in your face and that it doesn’t hurt you at all. But last time we exchanged barbs and I proclaimed him a miserable standard of a hall of fame career, you went out of your way to defend him. I mean, I found the whole display touching with how clearly it got under your skin to suggest you only started making waves after ditching the Moreau surname and attached the Rosso name he hadn’t exactly given a shining reputation to. Though, honestly? You’ve clutched at far more thin straws than that since becoming Women’s World Champion than your on-again-off-again love-hate incest triangle with your brother and Matsuda. But I’m flattered — not really, it’s repulsing beyond compare — that you take time out of your busy schedule consuming as much brotherly dick as possible to think about the silicone contents of my chest, the amount of makeup I use, and all my womanly features you entertain despite the claims of being an asexual being. Odd flex to admit you don’t get bitches despite how frequently you want them to “fall under your sway.”

I can’t imagine a more lonely future than the one destined for you.

Wrestling being all you’ve had. All you’ve wanted.

But the moment you’re gone, it’ll move on without you again.

It'll replace you again. It'll raise new pillars to center itself upon. And what makes it all the more tragic; we’ve seen Diantha Rosso at the peak of her career already. For the longest time, we’ve been watching the legacy begin to plateau, and the Women’s World Championship hasn’t prevented that. You’ve held it 120-something days, and it feels no more elevated than when it was momentarily around the waist of Felix. In fact, I’d go so far as to say, it has become less desirable being in your possession. But that’s no surprise, especially when you’ve only kept your clutch on that championship through the company you keep. By surrounding yourself with people who will throw themselves into harm's way to protect the otherwise fragile reign of Diantha Rosso, keep it alive just that moment longer. Earned through real blood, real sweat, real tears — give me a fucking break. You've done nothing but survive, and poorly at that. You didn’t benefit from the Great War; you were given the only moment you could afford to surrender. You’re no closer to ‘dominating’ than when you had started. Again, because you don’t know what pattern recognition is. You should be aware of what Clash of the Titans means for the winner — you won the right and then choked it away twice after all. Every opponent you survived is in that match, and you know they’re coming for you. The only reason I’m not in the class is because I have nothing to prove to you. You know this. You’ve attempted countless times to even try to recruit me. But why would I ever “smarten up” to take up a lesser role in a lesser group under the leadership of a lesser woman? Better yet; why would I ever sit side-by-side with someone who has constantly stolen from my plate, and defecated in my dinner? There’s not a place for you at the table in which I sit, Diantha. There is no “us” that rules this brand. Because you have only become more of the problem that needs to be eradicated for the Odyssey I have visioned for the future. What we aspire to be may share similarities, but they’re not the same. There’s only room for one at the head of the table and, as long as that is what you aspire to be, there can only ever be allowed one of us to prosper. No, I think the ability to smarten up, as you so delicately put it, has been an ability demonstrated by me and me alone. You, on the other hand, are so pig-headed in the falsehoods that keep you decorated in that championship have not displayed the capability to do the same. So yes; that entails that I will also be the one that holds the Undisputed Women’s World Championship to make it happen. The fact I will have to obtain it through beating you is a factor only of circumstance and nothing else.

Which upholds my consistency; it never had to be you for what I will manifest for myself.

Though, for whatever it’s worth, I’m glad it is you at Clash of the Titans.

Beating anyone else wouldn’t have been anywhere near as satisfying for me.

Because the reality that you’re in for when that Steel Cage door locks, those walls surround and close in on you — locked inside, across the ring from the one defense you couldn’t beat — might be the rudest awakening of your career. But you deny it, as you of course would. You instead project ideas that I’m not capable of delivering that rude awakening solely from the things that I have yet to do. But truly, what does that matter? What does it matter how many championships I haven’t won? What does it matter how many Clash of the Titans matches I haven’t won? What does it matter what my accolades look like in comparison to yours when everything is said and done, Diantha? That sounds like a desperate justification to me. I didn’t need a long list of accolades when I had your championship dead to rites on just your average run-of-the-mill weekly Odyssey, did I? I had the visual three-count on you until DT pulled the official out of the ring. Oh, my lack of hesitation to drive the knife into back of others is the furthest thing from a disorder. It was a necessity. It always has been. It always will be. I’ve stabbed more people in the back than you could ever possibly comprehend to my own benefit — have I at any point displayed even a flicker of emotion to suggest I’m apologetic about it? There isn’t a person alive I wouldn’t exploit to my own benefit and then backstab when it best suits me. I care about results. I care about winning at the end of the day. I care about having everything I want — no matter how long it takes. No matter how much I have to pay. No matter how many broken bodies I have to step over in order to have it. The very moment Jeff died, his body wasn’t even cold yet when I started using that to wound the pride of Felix Hartley. I was so deep beneath her skin, there’s a good chance she was one more bad night away from slitting her wrists in the tub and joining him. But you think you were helping me? Do you honestly think the whole time, you were trying to assist me in beating her and getting this match at OWA5 instead? Again, your unhinged delusions are the most sorry thing I’ve ever seen — when you cost me that match in the first place. Your incompetence is why I’ve had to wait this long — going back on your word, having everything delay the inevitable of this runback. Everything that is hindered my career, since the very beginning has been the incompetence of others. Dorado Enterprises. Tarah Nova. Alyssa Grace. Thotyssey. And Diantha Rosso — most incompetent of them all. I came back to OWA, with nothing in my heart but anger and the desire to rebuild everything I lost piece by bloody piece — now my standing with this company is the highest it has ever been. I stand at the precipice of having everything I ever wanted from this company — this industry as a whole.

So again I ask; what does it matter what I haven’t done in OWA?

When one victory is all that stands between me and destiny.

When beating you for that championship renders all I haven’t done obsolete?

When you’re rendered obsolete. And I feel like that will be the thing that hurts the most for you. These “grand” achievements you’ve accomplished within a Steel Cage-esque structures, from the five-minute championship reign that kickstarted it all, to the ‘almost’ killing of The Banshee, they’ve already been glory lost to time. They’ve gone the way of everyone you’ve been so proud to ever beat, but your time too is reaching its final hours. It’s last fleeting moments of glory and, had you been in the Clash of the Titans instead, maybe you’d find redemption enough to at least attempt to finish the story in a Final Destination main event again this year. Instead, you’ve resided yourself to a fate where you’ll watch that eventual winner set their sights on a prize no longer in your possession — an Undisputed Women’s World Championship that sits around the waist of Skylar Arceneaux. While my destiny begins, you’re destined to fade into the irrelevance from which you came — unmade from everything you were made to be. Because you didn’t make yourself. You were made from the countless opportunities you now fault others for having, for the opportunities you’ve so many times squandered. You stand at the precipice of your very last chance. And it’s not me that stares in the face of the greatest sense of worry in their life — because this has all been by design so far. I’ve made you desperate. I’ve made you make numerous mistakes you can’t back out from. I’ve got you figured out to a science, with every single protector of yours locked away from taking the knife you’ve become so very overdue. Because we’ve seen what being without the Women’s World Championship does to you — the effects it has on your psyche. The moment you become obsolete again, you know there’s no returning for you. There is no third revival.

No Iron Lioness. No Upper Echelon. Certainly no Final Pillar.

But by all means, dig to the center of the earth in hopes to find them.

Clash of the Titans, I’m going to bury you with them."

Jeff X, Alyssa Grace, The Banshee, Darkane, Elijah Hampton, Remington Ivory Prescott, DT The Ruler and have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos May 31st 2023, 2:36 am by **Krysis**

A Clash Definition
Clash Of The Titans #1

Scene opens at Devi's home in Raleigh, NC as you see Devi on the floor meditating in her room.

Devi Krysis: Glutton…

Devi Krysis: Glutton is a noun, meaning a person who is excessively fond of or always eager for something. For example Aaliyah Landerson for the 3rd time she let her daddy El Landerson and her entire family down AGAIN! by losing the 4-Way Match on Odyssey. Jessica Rose also got "Glutton" for punishment. Because she couldn't cut the mustard when I laid her ass out with my Way of The Wolf she wished she couldn't come back here on Odyssey, also to the new kid on the block, Freya Vittoria Cunningham definitely got "Glutton" for punishment. Because she made a stupid mistake, slap me in the face and pay for it! Let's face it, I've been on my winning ways since NAMI was gone in the hands of the Golden Dawn and now the road to Final Destination V lies in the Women's Clash of The Titans, And 29 other women are REALLY glutton for punishment for opportunity at the OWA Women's World Championship!

Devi Krysis: Destiny…

Devi Krysis: Destiny is a noun, meaning the events that will necessarily happen to a particular person or thing in the future. Like my Destiny, MY Destiny of becoming the OWA Women's World Champion when I overcome 29 other women in the Women's Clash of The Titans. This'll be my second Women's Clash of The Titans and I'm planning on winning the whole damn thing! Let's be honest Felix Hartley of the Thotline accomplished becoming a OWA Women's World Champion and what happened? Lost it to that cunt Diantha Rosso, Heheh. Man I thought trust no one was working so well, and you let Diantha Rosso on the top of the fucking mountain, like she runs this yard eh Felix? I don't see Flith lose the championship to her after winning it! Bea Havertz, a $1.50 Muscle Barbie Doll with the ego sticking up for her bridges, a girl that wants to #BeLikeBea bitch please no one in their right mind wants to be YOU! And you had a ton of balls telling me that I'm mentally handicapped? You desperately want me to throw your cheap blonde, muscle Barbie looking cunt over the top rope. Alyssa Grace girl we're lucky that we are in Pro Wrestling Shine together unfortunately I didn't make it to the finals of The Shine World Championship Tournament along with you. But last time we fought against each other it was for Omega Heavyweight Championship, you gave me an opportunity remember? Until Hana Nakajima intervened when she signed with HAVOC. And I'm glad that Hana was free from that devilish fiend, and I don't know what kind of conditions that you're in Hana, but all I asked for is to give it your all or I just save you the trouble by throwing your ass over the top rope. Alyssa I know that you and I need to settle old scores from the last Clash of The Titans but I'm worried about you! You and Liz were the dominant team in OWA, hell both of you held the Women's Tag Titles and what happened? Liz Karlson has been put on the shelf, she won't be at Clash because of you! Alyssa Grace you went too far, you went so far that you injured your own friend. And to be honest…I had too much respect for you to see you throw away a great tag team like The Power of Incredible Violence, it sickens me that I'm seeing the other side of you! Dr. Bethany Hastings PhD, The Donald Trump of Odyssey, The current OWA Spark Champion, a woman who wants to make Odyssey great again. Sigh I don't know, should I be flattered by your comment? No! Should I be thanking you for beating Felix Hartley for the OWA Spark Championship? Bitch please I would take her out a long time ago and unify both OWA Openweight and LAW Lethal Sparks Championship! I don't need nobody like you talking down on me, play around with my feelings. Angry? Upset? Murderous Rage? Far from it. I'm too focused, I'm calm, cool, and collected. So take your advice or confidence and shove it! Cause I don't need your pettiness or sympathy for me! Speaking of sympathy, April Song…April, April. You were once an ally of Jeff X and Thotline til I came around. you chewed The Thotline up and spit it out and joined HAVOC side and made Jeff X beg me to join his team, but this was a sad day not just me but Marie Bouchard as well because she lost her tag partner now she's a Goddess Champion. It seems that everyone has their own destiny when it comes to the OWA Women's World Championship, especially mine.

Devi opens her eyes

Devi Krysis: Regardless what your intentions are, I'm at the top of my game, my destiny is to win, my destiny is to survive over 29 women, and grab that golden ticket to Final Destination V and the OWA Women's World Championship opportunity, I don't play well with others so get in my way you're going the get tossed so tread lightly ladies because Discus Devi will be the one winning this year's Clash!

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

determinism // clash 001 May 31st 2023, 1:45 am by **Felix Hartley**

Determinism.

“If the universe is like one big clock, and you know the initial state of the machine, and you know all of the parts interact…then you can predict the future.”

“There’s a bright side to losing to Diantha Rosso.

It’s that now you fucking dweebs finally have a reason to doubt me, because besides the good doctor, legitimately none of you in this clash who have stepped in the ring with me before that have been able to do what she did. And she couldn’t even do it fairly.

Yes, I am deeply, deeply wounded by my loss. Yes, I did expect to win. As a matter of fact, I did win, and it drove Diantha to dig as deep as her brass knuckles were buried because even the ‘greatest wrestler of our generation’ needed an insurance policy against me. For the second time now, she has evaded beating me clean. Beating me fair. I didn’t make a mistake. I didn’t make a calculated error. I gave Diantha everything I was capable of and regardless of the commentary from members of this roster who have slipped much further down the hierarchy than I, it was more than enough to put her away and win back the Undisputed Women’s World Championship. If that wasn’t the case, she wouldn’t have cheated her way out of the match. That’s not a fun, ~quirky~ way to spin the narrative in a positive light. That's simply exactly what happened the night of OWA 5.

In a way, it’s soothing to know it apparently hurts all of you much more than it hurts me to accept that truth. Take as much time as you need as you grieve with each other, masking it as some euphoric illusion that I’ve somehow ‘fallen off’ instead of choosing to see it how it was.

That night, steaming hot tears poured down my face as I accepted the outcome. I pushed Rebecca away. I pushed Jeff away. I let the entire world watch me break. The entire world watched as I did not once wipe the tears away. I did not once hide my face. I didn’t run to the back instead of walk. I let the world see that after everything that has happened to me - banishing a demon back to hell during the Great War, a Manchester street fight before that, an all-out brawl on a cruise ship before that where I was set on fire, drowned, and nearly killed, multiple nights in the hospital, losing my Sparks Championship, and the climax to my tragic arc being OWA 5 - I found pride in what I had endured. That although Diantha won, it wasn’t without controversy. Although Diantha won, there has never been a bigger threat posed to her than Felix Hartley. A deep and also fucking terrifying understanding that the Undisputed Women’s World Championship is not synchronous with my tenacity; I will never stay down. Even if I am lying in a hospital bed half-dead, you will always have to look over your shoulder for me. And every single participant in this Clash knows that there are few women on this roster as terrifying as me when it comes to what I will fucking put myself through to get what I want. Strength comes in many forms, and I possess every single one of them. I found pride in my vulnerability, because I know that I have never once played pretend to protect my own ego. To feel that loss so powerfully in every nook and cranny of my body and mind reminded me that passion, ambition, hatred, burning desire and a dash of insane egotism is Felix Hartley’s Maslow’s hierarchy of needs. There was a sweetness to it, because I know it will make facing Diantha at Final Destination that much more satisfying. A lesson I’ve learned over and over again with many men; pleasure and pain often coexist. After all, what’s good sex without a little bit of blood, spit and tears? I guess I fight like I fuck.

My demonstration of defeat was a master class in celebrating what I have accomplished, what I have been through, and what I have endured. I will never be told that I’ve ‘had my chance’. I will never be told that I have no place in the World Title picture. Especially not by the pylons trespassing as wrestlers that have barely scratched the surface of Odyssey’s opening credits the last few months. You can label it pathetic, you can say that I’ve been humbled…but believe me when I tell you some of those tears fell because I was fucking validated. I was freed.

Freed from feeling the phantom pangs of criticism despite believing I was better than everybody else on the Odyssey roster. Freed from the inevitability that some bodaciously retarded claim my opponents would make would somehow get under my skin because of how unapologetically egotistical I am, and will always be. Because now it wasn’t just a belief. No. Now, there was no reasonable doubt that I am in fact better than everybody else on the Odyssey roster. Knowing that Diantha’s mind, body and spirit were so broken from being in the ring with me that she could ONLY count on her hail mary to retain the belt that I had won in a far more honourable, bloody and violent fight against Odyssey’s top talent, most of which were my own teammates? Chef’s kiss.

I didn’t see it then. But I see it now.

I see it because during the two weeks that I disappeared, I had a chance to reflect. I thought it would humble me. I thought it would force me to put my career in perspective. And although there were nights when I wanted to take a blade to my own throat after staring at my own reflection for seven hours and picking myself apart, I couldn’t stop replaying my OWA career in my head. Every time I wanted to quit. Every time I told myself I was letting everybody around me down. Every time I told myself I wouldn’t be able to pull myself out of the shadow my Thotyssey sisters cast me in. Every time I told myself Jeff deserved a woman that accomplished as much as he has. Every time I told myself how disgusted Lexi would be with me if she saw my performance…

I couldn’t stop the blood from rushing to my throbbing fucking ego.

I thought of my first match against Devi Krysis. Then I thought of my second match with her, winning the Openweight Championship against her and that SJW-Tumblr-lookin’-ass broad Daisy Thrash. Then I thought of my third match with her where she essentially surrendered her LAW Championship to me and I made history by unifying the two at Game Over. And while she stood by us during the Great War - something, something, numbers game - we all knew that alliance wouldn’t last long. Given the chance, there’s nothing Devi would love more than to get revenge on me for repeatedly bashing her head into the canvas and taking the only thing that meant anything to her; the only thing that gave her career any value. I have pushed, pulled and prodded my way to the main event scene while Devi sits comfortably in the same spot that she could never quite foster the potential to graduate from. Odyssey’s resident placeholder. A pitifully forgetful reign as the Goddesses Champion, yet hilariously still a stronger and more impressive feat than most of her counterparts in this clash. Somehow still, she continues to be the running meme of the roster. A stepping stone for most, and yet my checkered past with Devi seems to be the talking point for any opponent I have who looks for any reason to discredit the carnage I’ve left in my wake for a whole year.

Then I thought about my match with Ellie Quinn. I thought about how I plucked her from the dusty feud with BIANCA and forced them both to face me at Boiling Point. How I was given the opportunity to hand pick my opponent and instead of taking one, I took both. Because when push comes to shove, I put more on my plate. I’m never satisfied. Tell me to pick one opponent, I’ll pick two. My title on the line and everything. BIANCA was supposed to be some revered Joshi bitch and ended up being the biggest fucking flop Odyssey has ever seen and Ellie wasn’t far behind. She’s had two opportunities to throw her rainbow hat into the midcard title scene, and she failed explosively at both. The Sparks Championship isn’t at all a difficult Championship to capture and yet it remains completely elusive to her. I expected more out of the person who latches onto Lazarus Arjen’s coattails for the teensiest bit of clout, just so that she can desperately hang on to the facade of being cut from the rough and tough cloth of Kingdom Pro without any of the professional execution the rest of us have.

And how could I forget my match with Tomomi Shinozaki? That poor girl didn’t even make it past the welcome mat at the front door before I made sure she knew exactly who I was. The kind of loss that made her question her career for several weeks after. And what has she done since? Besides follow in Ellie and BIANCA’s footsteps competing in a much smaller battle royal for yet another shot at the Sparks Championship because at this point I was running out of competition and the belt was becoming a heavy accessory that began to clash with my much bigger aspirations. She lost. Eliminated by Cassie Wu. Just when Tomomi gets the chance to tangle with people much higher on the food chain, she copies the patterns of most that tried to come for that belt while I still held it. She should have hitched her boat to Golden Dawn when she had the chance, but alas, opportunities for stardom continue to slip out of her grasp. The Clash will be no different.

And there stands Ruri Kuzonoha, one half of the Women’s Tag Team Champions. Smug as ever. The fact that you are holding championship gold when you should have been diving head first off of a fucking boat drunk off your ass might be admirable to most, but it’s fucking offensive to me. For months, we listened to you whine about being forced into the Golden Dawn against your will, but guess what? Without Rin, without Havoc, you wouldn’t have been GIFTED several title opportunities. You were handed the Outlaw Championship on a silver PLATTER and you RELINQUISHED it! But your hands weren’t empty for long, were they? And isn’t it just so funny that I haven’t heard you complain much since? So I’ll be damned if I let you walk into this Clash thinking that you’re getting anywhere near the World Title picture, because if you want my opinion - and even if you don’t - you’ve had far too many opportunities that you didn’t deserve and that you aren’t capable of living up to. Anything you’ve ever done that passed the threshold of mediocrity happened because of Rin’s fist planted firmly up your ass; that bitch controls your every burp and fart. Maybe if Havoc were still around you and your buddies would have an easier time holding onto your gold, but he’s gone. Sent right back down to hell where the rest of Golden Dawn should be too. That is, if Marie doesn’t get to you first.

My sweet Marie.

Of course I thought about you. I thought about you every day. It broke my heart that I didn’t have it in me to tell you where I was, what I was doing, how I was doing… but you knew. Before there was Devi Krysis and all of the others, there was you. My first singles match on Odyssey. My first Openweight Title defense. My first Lupercalia. We are entirely two different people than we were then. Our paths crossed many times, even when it seemingly made no sense. I’ve fought beside you. For you. For our team, many times. And you have done the same for me. And look at you now. OWA Goddesses Champion, as you rightfully should be. Almost as if destiny wrote it to be. But the thing is, Marie, you have the perfect ending to your story already. You exposed Hana for the whiny little brat she always was before she let Havoc in, you proved to the world that she has no one to thank for her success but the demon that she let possess her and the moment we took that crutch from under her, that Championship found its way to its rightful owner. You got your revenge. You avenged Violet’s death at the hands of Havoc. I will applaud you and be your cheerleader always. But this story…this story is mine to finish. It truly makes me sick to my stomach thinking about the lows I would stoop to without hesitation if I ever found myself across from you in the ring again, with the only thing between us being the Undisputed Women’s World Championship.

The war is something that sits heavy on my heart and has since it happened. For months, the world was taken hostage by Havoc. The M. Night twist? Surprise, it was Hana Nakajima letting a demon into her body because her insecurities were spilling over like a psychological muffin top, her husband almost cheated on her, and she needed a way to ensure that she could never lose. Toxic female behaviour. And because of her recklessness, we lost friends. Violet is dead. Banshee is dead. Jeff was dead. We never gave a fuck about you, Hana. We tried to fuck your husband and you nearly let Havoc end the world over it. The wild part is you tried to find me so you could make another stop on your grand apology tour, but it’s funny cause you’ve never found me. You’ve never once acknowledged your vulnerability as a human. You’re still SO fucking focused on Thotyssey like you didn’t just try to cause a fucking apocalypse. Everybody around us is acting like we need to get over what just happened as if we didn’t just risk our lives for the world. No matter what we did in the war, no matter how close we got as a team and fostered something that will last a lifetime between us, we’re being told to just ~GeT OvEr iT!~. You can continue to attack our ability to suck a couple dicks but it never takes away from the fact that YOU are NOTHING without Havoc. Getting your ass handed to you by Marie Bouchard was just the first of many events that will inevitably expose just how fucking mid you are. The only way you ever had the upper hand against us was when you let Havoc possess you. By the time the Clash is over, you’ll be begging for him to come back.

Or, maybe, if you ask nicely, April will let you cozy up to the demon that is now possessing her for some reason! If April were smart, she’d have made her own demon deal when she miraculously qualified for the Promethean Chamber only to lose it all to me. New demon bestie or not, April, your classless, aging degeneracy is unsurprising. You completely and wholly understood what was happening to Hana, what Havoc was doing to her, you watched and you slid into base at the eleventh hour to try to help. For your ‘friend’. And you honour what happened during the great war by…enlisting your OWN demon? You bore witness to the CHAOS that Havoc wreaked for MONTHS…and you stood there and said, ‘one (1) demon for me as well, please’.

Tone deaf. Absolutely fucking tone deaf.

And that’s when I remembered beating Alyssa Grace in the middle of the ring five months ago. I remember it well, and I remember it often. How she couldn’t admit that she wasn’t the same since losing to Rebecca Filth at Final Destination only to find herself completely and utterly damaged for good after losing to me. A loss I take comfort in knowing with impenetrable certainty that she’s NEVER recovered from. It’s personal for her, you can tell. Losing to one slut hurt, but both of us? That killed her. Sent her to the shadow realm, otherwise known as the Tag Team division. She had this big dream of making it into the Promethean Chamber with Liz, and I crushed it. And ever since, her career has mirrored the trajectory of a poorly-constructed paper airplane; a few loops, but eventually flies backwards until it’s inevitable nosedive. Forever crumpled and stained with failure, unable to ever return to its initial integrity and structure. Compromised in every future endeavor until it’s discarded for good. OWA’s resident pick me, teeming with insecurities so deep as she realized week after week she wasn’t as good as she used to be. Every word I said was right. Somebody I know for a fact felt deep, unbridled joy to watch Diantha win because she somehow felt like it was a win for her, too. That at least somebody could beat me when the projected starchild couldn’t. That at least somebody got revenge when she was too busy being handed the opportunity to spearhead a division that flatlined before it even took off. She sat on her high horse about the ArT oF TaG TeAm WrEsTLiNg before realizing what a delusional twat she was and turned on Liz the millisecond the division lost any semblance of smoke she thought it had. You thought you’d be praised, but you weren’t. You were laughed at. And we’re still laughing. If only you made it to the chamber to get rid of that dead weight sooner.

The chamber was one of the greatest nights of my life, for many reasons. The obvious being that I won the Undisputed Women’s World Title. Fairly. Without controversy. The second being that I got to share that moment with the women who mean the most to me. We never made it a secret that we knew the three of us would be the final three in the chamber. We never prepared for any other possibility. Angelina Magnum has been one of my best friends for almost an entire year now. She slipped up at Boiling Point and everybody watched intently to see how it would affect the microcosm that is Thotyssey. Despite the betrayal, we accepted the fact that she was one of us. Competitive. Tenacious. A blonde bombshell who was interested in proving herself to be more than the perceived third wheel. Sisterhood has its place, but it was not in the chamber that night. And it will not be in the Clash. I love and respect Angelina. But she had her time and place to insert herself into the World Title picture and it did not happen for her. I never hesitated to pin her shoulders to the mat during the chamber, and I won’t hesitate to make sure her feet hit the floor if I need to. She’s clearly going through an identity crisis that she needs to figure out before she can focus on the clash. Her mind is everywhere. It’s also on Bea Havertz. I thought we taught her better than allying with tired, unoriginal gimmicks but as long as they keep their Powerbuff Girl cosplay where it belongs - somewhere out of Thotyssey’s way and simmering in and around the bottom rung of Odyssey - there’ll be no need to escalate. She understands that her loyalty is first and foremost to Thotyssey, as is mine.

But there’s no question that Rebecca and I share a deeper bond. I never let the accusations of being her shadow get under my skin; it was never accurate, but even if it were, would it be that bad to follow in the footsteps of the woman who went unpinned for nearly two years until I was the first one to do it? She dropped the Openweight Championship only for me to pick it up, unify it, and set the record for the longest reign in the history of it while she also unified a World Title and dominated the World Championship scene. The wild shit these cunts tried to say about who was in what shadow, who was copying who…all the while we were both creating history on our own time, separately and together. No one could possibly acknowledge that these two outstandingly dominant careers coexisted. I proved myself against her. And after that, nobody could say jack fucking shit. Even if they did, I sat back and let my actions speak for themselves. On two different occasions, I held two different championship belts in my hands. The Promethean Chamber made me a double champion, if only for a fleeting moment. It’s something no one else in this clash can say. Rebecca is surely everybody’s biggest threat in this match, but I’ve already pinned the biggest threat. There’s no bigger threat than the biggest threat’s biggest threat. That’s me.

One of us will win this clash. That is not a Mystic Mac prediction. It is a promise. It is a stone cold fact. All I did last Odyssey was let Rebecca know that she finally had competition. Was it tense? Maybe. But clearly the only people that can handle our tension…is us. Rebecca and I pass main events to each other like it’s hot potato. So with Diantha as both of our most recent losses, we understand that we are the upper echelon, and it is up to one of us to destroy that dumb fucking bitch for good.

And just like the way the Promethean Chamber ended, whoever wins will be celebrated. We will give each other every ounce of our blood in the middle of that ring just like we did before. We will wrap our arms around each other, lift each other up on our shoulders. We will celebrate the World Championship coming home to the Thotline. And while having two back to back clash wins is a feat she absolutely deserves, she will fight for her entire life for it. And I will fight for mine.

I made my debut at last year’s Clash of the Titans. I was no different than Jamie Thotsen, Apollonia Cipriano, Cassie Wu, Dani Fatale, Aalyah Landerson, Jessica Rose, Freya Vittoria Cunningham, Josie Grey, Rebecca Brookes… rookies, or people who still act like one. But things have evolved. I have evolved. I am sick and fucking tired of watching everybody around me get countless opportunities while I sit and wait for mine. I will not wait at the back of the line. Because Filth didn’t. Angelina didn’t. Skylar sure as fuck didn’t. That woman could not win a fucking match if you PAID her to - and WE DO! She has had more chances at that goddamn title than Thotyssey combined in the last few months alone. It would be worse if I thought she had any chance of winning, but Skylar’s addiction to disappointment proves to be unbreakable.

And when Diantha retains… once I have won the Clash of the Titans…I will be breathing down her throat… ready at any moment…

To #FinishTheWhorey.”

VaeVictisBD, Alyssa Grace, The Banshee, Darkane, Rebecca Filth, Remington Ivory Prescott, DT The Ruler and have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos May 30th 2023, 9:59 pm by **marielacorriveau**

Our Lady

Clash 1

“It’s time, Marie.”

The shadow of Our Lady of Saguenay shades them all from the hot noon sun, the wind off the river cuts through Marie’s dress as she moves forward, and she sinks into the icy water cradling an effigy in her arms.

She can’t hear anything but the blood rushing in her ears as she sets the effigy into a small wooden boat and pushes it off into the turbulent waters of the Saint Lawrence River under the watchful eye of Mater Dolorosa.

-

“This is what I’ve been waiting for.”

Marie is sitting in front of her altar, which has grown now to a large structure covered in statues, each representing a different goddess, her title belt in her lap.

“I don’t have an impeccable track record with battle royale. I’ve been in one, and I did not come out the last woman standing. A lot has changed since then. I hate to admit it, but I wasn’t really focused when I got in there. Sounds like a lame excuse, doesn’t it? But think for a second about what I was focused on at that point. All of the little pieces of my life, shifting and burning. My partner, my chosen battle. My future, written in blood on the face of the world.”

“And now that chapter has closed.”

“Don’t misunderstand me. This isn’t me saying that I’ve left my girls behind me. This isn’t me walking away. I can’t.”

“No. I won’t. I choose not to. I choose to remain the woman they put their faith in, I choose to continue to fight for our purpose.”

“But the story has to continue. In a movie, the end would have been when I pinned Hana, the heartbroken girl wins her championship with the help of her lost sister’s move, she raises the belt up, crowd cheers, credits. But I’m still here. I’m still breathing. There’s no end as long as that’s true. I have my prize, but that was the easy part. The easy part is taking it. The hard part is what comes next. The hard part is building a reign, and a legacy.”

“I’ve said the name Erzulie many times here. A loa, a powerful spirit in voodoo, vodun, hoodoo. When you grow up knowing the God of Abraham, maybe read about the many gods of Greece and Rome, it’s hard to properly understand what a loa is. Like a goddess, but not quite. Complicated. But one of the greatest differences is that loa are made. They become.”

“Sometimes, your acts are so great, you become legend. Sometimes, your acts are so great, you become a goddess.”

“There are goddesses in this battle. Some, not all. So let me speak on them.”

Marie’s finger caresses a statue of a woman in armor, holding a spear.

“Dr. Hastings. Our Athena. The great and holy hypocrite, Our Lady of Keeping Women In Their Place. The Margaret Thatcher of wrestling. Do not take that as a compliment. There is nothing I hate more in this world than a fucking pick me girl. Do you think anyone who cheers you on gives a fuck about you, your career, your achievements, your books? Do you think there’s a single MAGA dipshit in that crowd not seething that you’re out here with us instead of barefoot and pregnant? We’ve seen real demons on this show, Beth. We’ve yet to see a decent Republican. Which one seems more fictional to you?”

“Everything about you makes me sick. It’s actually really fucking refreshing, the guiltless hate you bring out of me. You haven’t done anything to me, you haven’t tried to bring on the apocalypse, you’re just a mundanely shitty person. You beat Felix, which… okay, not exactly a fair finish, that’s fine. It’s not fine, actually, but let’s set that aside, hein? Who have you beat since? Bea and Ellie? Come on, Beth. I’m not trying to be cruel to those girls, they’re both perfectly lovely, but you can’t pretend you’re running through the roster. You’re an unproven champion. A placeholder while the big girls chase bigger prizes. I’m not even talking about myself, be honest with yourself, if Bex decided she wanted a second go around with the Sparks Championship, you’d be out in a second. Everyone knows it except, maybe, you. Who’s delusional now?”

“And the feel good moment of the year? Watching you get battered by a group of witches and dykes and whores before being flung over the top rope into the waiting arms of that brainwashed Brawnhilda. You don’t get to change Odyssey, Beth. It’s San Francisco, not Florida. You can keep your tight grip on that title for as long as you want, but you will never be more than third greatest to hold it on Odyssey, distantly behind two women you try to denigrate.”

She moves next to a figure in a cloak, mostly obscured, face uncarved to simulate shadow.

“Ruri. My Melinoë. My little goddess of nightmares and madness. This is the second belt you’ve held that passed through my hands first. It’s a shame that fate has continued to put you squarely in my shadow, isn’t it? Two titles you’ve had because I wasn't able to defend them. This time, at least, it wasn’t your fault. Allow me to offer you my congratulations. I can’t be all that bitter, can I? I did come out of all of this a champion, and in the end… none of this was your fault. The only person I could truly hate is gone, banished to hell. My nightmare is over, isn’t it?”

“I hope you have every joy that I had with that belt in my hands. I hope your career continues to follow mine as it has so far. I hope we meet at every turn, so you never forget what you learned during Civil War.”

“Even when I lose, I win.”

Marie scans the shelf, looking for a suitable figure, and shakes her head.

“Aalyah. The ever confused chronic shit talker of Odyssey. I have nothing for you. If the rest of us made a splash, you walked into the pool and sat down in the deep end. You just keep throwing out challenge after challenge, tugging at the skirts of bigger women. And men, actually. Which I would be impressed by, if you even once backed it up. Can you do anything other than trade on your last name and call Devi trailer trash?”

She moves on, looking for a statue and again looking frustrated.

“Jamie. Welcome aboard! I’m feeling some weird deja vu. Last year everyone was talking about how we already had Filth, so Felix was redundant. Now we have Filth, Felix, and Angelina, so what does that make you? I guess you could pull off the same upset, but I’m not holding my breath. The roster is crowded with women with sex appeal, and the fans have embraced them wholeheartedly, you may think you can copy that act word for word and reap the same rewards, but there is one crucial piece that you’re missing. Abilities you can have pride in. Rebecca, Felix, Angelina, they’ve all stood shoulder to shoulder with giants. Despite their own protests from time to time, they are magnificent wrestlers. Do you understand that? Whatever they may say, and whatever their opponents may have used against them, they are wrestlers. You’re not the sequel, you’re not the direct to DVD Asylum Pictures ripoff, you’re not even the porn parody, if only because Bex already filed a line of those with the trademark office. You’re Thotyssey fanfiction.”

“It’s a shame BOBW isn’t still around. You could’ve used some time there.”

“Speaking of BOBW, I guess we really needed the numbers upped if we’re raiding that roster for the living twitter cancellation that is hashtag Be Like Bea. You would kill in the marketing department, Bea. I think you…” Marie scans the shelf of goddesses. “Yeah, I’ll give you one. Let’s call you Eris.”

“No, not that one, don’t worry. I mean Eris, Goddess of Discord. No, not that one either, tabernak.”

“You come in with a plan. You want to cause trouble. In the right frame of mind, I can appreciate that. I came into this with a plan too. I thought I was very, very smart, but what is that saying? Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the face? Bea, you’ve carved out this version of me inside your plans. You think I’m stupid, reckless, a bit player, a charity case. I’m not. Can't punch my way out of a paper bag?”

OWA Promos - Page 4 Well-tamar-have-you-watched-the-show-ruapuls-drag-race

OWA Promos - Page 4 Well-tamar-have-you-watched-the-show-ruapuls-drag-race

“You’re right that my suffering hasn’t been for character development. That’s not how the world works, Bea. In the real world, you don’t go through pain because it makes you better, or because there’s a big reward waiting for you. You take your lumps, you drag yourself back up to your feet, and you keep going, because the alternative is to lay down and die, and I am a lot of things, but I am not a quitter. I went from the saddest bitch on this roster, a perpetual loser in a tag team that couldn’t cinch a win, to a Champion three times over, and as much as you might want to give Hana an out and say that I got this belt because she pitied me, every single person who bothers to sit down and watch this brand’s shows saw exactly how I got it. I refused to stay down. Call it stupid. Call it reckless. But it worked, and your third rate mind games are not going to be the thing that shakes the dumb little bitch that could.”

“Diantha gave me that one. I kind of like it.”

“So, Bea, if you’re hoping I do lay down and die, like you suggested, you will either be hoping for a long, long time, or you’ll have to get off your ass and do something worse to me than the forces of hell, because bigger bitches than you have tried to keep me down, and every single one has failed.”

Marie moves back to the shelf, clicking her tongue.

“Speaking of - Alyssa. My dark reflection, my cautionary tale, my perpetual jailbird. Should I pretend to be shocked that you broke Liz’s arm? It’s not your first time doing that to make a point, and it’s not your first meltdown. You know, people love to tell me that when you started here, you were a nice girl too. I think they worry that I’ll wind up like you. But I don’t know if you were ever all that nice. I mean, you were faced with the suggestion of actually winning a title you talked a farmyard’s worth of manure about deserving and you broke the arm of your best friend. Makes all the bonding we had about our love of our partners ring hollow, doesn’t it? You tell on yourself so easily, Alyssa. No matter how much you love someone, you’ll always begin to back up when their blood pools a little too close to your feet?”

“I know you like speaking in metaphors, but that’s just because you lack literal experience in that exact scenario. Because I’ve been drenched, Alyssa. Twice over. I’m no coward, I don’t run from the brutality of love, I didn’t flinch from the corpses of my sisters, and you know very well that those were not pretty deaths. If you’re afraid, fine. If you never loved Liz, fine. But do not pretend the rest of us are cowards. You can predict all you want, you can tell the WHOLE WORLD that I am rotting away in my grief, that I am a wounded creature in the woods waiting for someone to end my misery, that my dreams are yours to put to bed.”

“They’re not. I’ve had some strange and terrible dreams, I have seen the past, and the future, I have had dreams so horrible you couldn’t not comprehend them, but you are never in them.”

“I told you that you were melting down, burning out, before our very eyes. I never dreamed you’d prove me so right so fast. This new, improved Alyssa Grace doesn’t scare me, and it sure as hell doesn’t impress me. You’re not going to regain everything you’ve lost. And you don’t have a place in my pantheon anymore.”

Marie reaches out for a statue of a woman with a monstrous cat, and then pulls her hand back and laughs.

“Freya. That’s ballsy. To call yourself Freya and get pinned immediately upon signing with OWA? Freya, goddess of war, leader of the Valkyries, and you can’t hold your own next to Aalyah Landerson? That twitter fingered nepotism hire disasterpiece? That’s embarrassing. Did you pick that name, or did your parents not realize they were birthing a joke? Best in the world, god killer, non-believer, those are big fucking boasts for someone who will only ever be known on Odyssey as the second best Cunningham.”

“Do you know what happened to her? No, why would you bother to do your homework, you’re the best in the world, right? I wish I could paint a prettier picture. I wish I could say she died in my arms, knowing she was adored. I wish a lot of things. But there’s a better chance of me getting Violet back than you coming out of this the winner.”

“Hey Angie. I’ll say… I’m not going to pick on you. You’re flying high right now. You’ve got Bea. You’ve got your girls in Thotyssey. I hope deeply that Bea is being honest, and there is no rift forming in Thotyssey. They need you. Odyssey needs you. You don’t care about my opinions, you’ve always made it clear that know matter how close I get to Felix, you don’t think much of me. Hell, we were teaming and you were talking about going for the tag belts with one of your girls, and now it looks like that dream may come true with someone else. Just don’t come for me in the melee, Angie. I would hate to have to explain what comes next to Felix.”

“Gwen. It has to be Diana, doesn’t it? Goddess of the hunt? I mean, Diana was surrounded by nymphs, you have exactly one friend that you tried to hunt down and then couldn’t win a title with. Gwen, I will never forget your return to OWA. Just releasing a bear into a stadium and then shooting it with an arrow, like an absolute lunatic. I wish I could say I’ve seen hidden depths emerge, but… you are stuck, aren’t you? Just remarkable visuals and strange cryptic messaging and absolutely nothing to back it up. I haven’t forgotten your barbs, you know. You trying to big time me with your woods witches, acting like you know my realm better than me. If you were so great, so knowledgeable, if you walk the same path as me, where were you? Why wasn’t I working all of this out surrounded by your Appalachian sisters? Were you full of shit, or was pissing away time with Josie just that important.”

“Tonomi. Sweetheart. I… come on. I’m… okay, I’ll say…” she picks a statue of a young woman holding a rainbow in her hands. “Iris. Goddess of the rainbow. Very beautiful. Not… your looks, I’m not trying to make this weird, you have a beautiful heart. But just like the rainbow, when you reach out… empty air. There’s nothing there, cherie. Nothing to touch, nothing substantial, nothing real. But I can’t bring myself to disregard you entirely, because of that heart. Fight hard, Tonomi. Prove me wrong.”

“And our Persephone, our darling hellbeast come back to the land of the living. Hana. I had hoped that you had grown. I had hoped that you had risen to the challenge I extended when we last met, but you didn’t learn a single thing! I mean, it’s getting embarrassing! Casting us all as the mean girls who just don’t understand. I understand perfectly, Hana. I echoed your words back to you, at the moment you gave yourself to Havoc and accepted everything that would come, that you KNEW was inevitable, because you lost the Clash. Are you pretending you didn’t say it? Did someone put a deepfake on the network? And what will you give into this year? What monster will come out of you when you fail? Who will have to die this time for Hana Nakajima’s ego, her martyr complex?”

“You still think, after all of this, that you’re the hero. That we should all be applauding now that you’re free, as if WE weren’t the ones who paid for your freedom in blood! I’m not being dishonest when I say you need to grow up and face the choices you made! You want my sympathy so desperately, Hana. I can feel your longing for my affection, why is she hanging out with Thotyssey, why does she like them and not ME, why isn’t she MY friend?”

“I’m not amused by your predicament, Hana. I’m disappointed. I’m watching you continue down a very sad, lonely path, all by choice. Because you can’t get redemption, cherie, until you accept that you need to be redeemed. Forgiveness can’t come before an admission of guilt. I haven’t seen a single drop of self awareness from the real Hana. All I see is the same pathetic manipulation that sent April spiraling into oblivion alongside Havoc, poor me, poor little Hana, they all hate me, they all want me to die, protect me, choose me, love me.”

“Show me something, Hana. Show me anything, an original thought, a fleck of sincerity, SHOW ME that there was something UNDERNEATH Havoc, show me the Hana that everyone who knew you before all of this wanted to SAVE.”

“… but you won’t. You can’t. You can’t live with the fact that that Hana asked to be taken over. So you make up a new one, and I just keep waiting.”

Marie shakes her head and moves on.

“Apollonia, you’re kind of fucking up my format here, because I can’t dodge the whole Apollo thing, but that’s a god, not a goddess, so I’m kind of struggling. It’s fine, because I’m struggling to find anything to say about you at all outside of the fact that you are indeed… in the Clash. You’re sure here! Look, I’m no stranger to having friends in low places and doing business that others find a little questionable, but… really? What is with all of the Daddy’s girls pouring in? Can we get a villainous small businesswoman, or something? Shit, that’s Beth. Never mind. Good luck.”

“April. You are a… struggle, for me. I feel this odd sympathy, this lingering pity. Because you knew what you were doing. You accepted what you were. You stumbled down the road to hell, following Hana out of this undying love. You said such kind things to me, before my world was ripped apart. You have this beautiful, malleable heart, shaped by whoever reaches out to grasp it. In the end, you’re not a goddess at all, April. You’re a worshiper. You lay yourself at the altar for sacrifice, but you never stand in your own power. And now… oh, you’ve found an entirely different power, haven’t you? Oh, it’s still not yours, you still don’t know how to harness it, you’re not in control, but you’ve found something to fill that hollow place in your heart that Hana left when she didn’t need you anymore. Did you think I wouldn’t notice? Don’t be ridiculous, April. I can taste dark magic in the air, and it clings to you like a cloud of sickly sweet perfume. You just hopped from one demon to another, never stopping to ask yourself, what can I do? What can this body, this mind, do? Who is April Song when she’s not following? Besides, cherie.”

Marie stifles a laugh.

“If you wanted a sex demon more powerful than you could ever hope to be to make you feel ten years younger, you could’ve just called me.”

Marie shakes her head and moves on.

“Felix.” Marie pauses, and then she smiles, almost proudly. “You… you are Aphrodite Areia. The warlike Aphrodite. Did you know she had that aspect? It’s very old, you know. Very rare. But so many goddesses of love are also goddesses of blood, or they were, before the old scrolls were burned and their legends died in mouths stuffed with gold coins for the ferryman. Sex, and passion, and death, all in extremity, that was the code of the goddess. You are the only one here, I think, who wants this as much as I do, who looks around at the aftermath and says no, I am not done, I am not packed up at the end of the story, put in a trunk at the back of the closet to collect dust. It’s so, so selfish that in my mind, the end of this match isn’t Thotyssey, your sisters, your own triple goddess. It isn’t you and Beth, the woman who took your title. It’s you and me. My friend. My constant opponent. The only one to really, truly beat me. Twice.”

“In my dreams, my new dreams, it’s us when all others have been thrown out. You and me. Maybe third time’s the charm. However it ends… I am excited to be in the ring with you again.”

Marie lays the Goddesses Championship on the black velvet cushion on her altar, and feels a rush of heat under her hands. It has become part of her pantheon, a tribute to goddesses past and present, a living sign of the divinity they are playing with. A tribute to the becoming they are undertaking. To the beginning of immortality. She looks up at the statues.

“What am I, then?”

“Keep up.”

Marie stands and turns to face the camera.

“I am Ekati, Brighid who crossed the sea, the Moirai, I am Erzulie the many-named, I am the Triple Goddess, and my story has not yet ended.”

Alyssa Grace, Rebecca Filth, Remington Ivory Prescott, DT The Ruler, Lazarus Arjen, Felix Hartley and Dr. Bethany Hastings have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos May 30th 2023, 2:14 pm by **Hana Nakajima**

Clash of the Titans #1: Layer of Ice.

29.05.2023 Tokyo, Japan

"Too gentle, in fact, and that's why she had to harden herself. Likewise, she declared war against the whole world only because she dreams of peace."

*For many months, maybe even the last year, everything has been wrong. Perhaps Hana won a couple of championships. She got this Hall of Famer status in VPRO as well. However, the girl was in no way satisfied with whatever happened to her. After all, she knew all the credit would go to Havoc anyway. It didn't matter that the Japanese lady had been working hard for the last few years. Even during her strange demonic adventure, there were times when she took full responsibility for title defenses. The thing is, no one has tried to look at it that deeply. Nobody really cared what it was like. Even though it was unfair and hurtful, Hana had to face the consequences of Havoc's sins. All those people who looked at her with this hateful approach, did not even realize how difficult it was to rebuild her reputation. She really wanted to change something, but it wasn't all that easy. Even if it looked like it from the outside, Rome wasn't built in a day. Knowing how hard her husband fought to get rid of the demonic stigma, Hana realized that it could take several years to fully recover. It sucked, but what else could she do? She couldn't just disappear and hide somewhere far away from everyone. There was no solution. Moreover, if she suddenly disappeared, everyone would start to think it wasn't just Havoc. They would consider Hana to be pure evil as well.*

*What's left for her then? She could only continue what she had always been doing. All she could do was go through match after match, even if she didn't feel like it. It was hard for her to feel love for this business. Not that she didn't want to, but she just couldn't. She felt like no matter what she did, it was going to be bad. Not to mention that all those aggressive looks hurt her a lot. After all, she had been a victim of Havoc too. Why didn't anyone want to see this? She kept asking herself that question, but the answer never came. Although not always the girl felt as if she wanted to disappear from this Earth. Her family, friends, and the psychiatrist she was forced to see by the OWA board, participated in improving her mental state. She might have been upset once or twice, but she fully accepted those meetings now.*

"How are we today, Hana?"

*The girl shrugged her shoulders, then replied with a grimace on her face.*

"Well...Today, I've only heard twice, that I should kill myself and go to hell. I guess we're making progress in relations with people, huh?"

*Sarcastic answer is not what the doctor expected, but she decided to continue on the subject.*

"And do you think this is the solution to your problems?"

*Hana rolled her eyes in annoyance, because she was tired of everyone asking her the same thing.*

"No, I don't want to kill myself if that's what you're asking. Although it would be an easy solution, I know that I would hurt my loved ones this way. Not to mention that, I want to live. Even if they think I shouldn't. But I'm not going to give them this satisfaction, just because they don't have an ounce of empathy. It's not even that I don't understand a thing. I know a lot of them have reasons to hate me. I realize it's my face, they've seen, even if what I've been doing wasn't under my control. The thing is, a lot of them haven't even interacted with me at all and they're throwing shit at me anyway. I guess it's human nature to do what others do. They hate me for the sake of hating me and I'm sorry about that. But whatever, not much I can do anyway. Fuck them."

*The psychiatrist wrote something down on a piece of paper, then moved on to the next question.*

"As far as I know, there's something exciting waiting for you at work. Are you enjoying it?"

*Hana sighed heavily before answering, while playing with a strand of hair.*

"I don't know...I guess I should get excited for Clash of the Titans, but who knows...Maybe, such an unexpected win could improve my reputation if I did well. Maybe people would see what a hard worker I am. On the other hand, I know perfectly well that I'm public enemy number one. Even if I managed to end Clash victorious, the thought of being booed off is heartbreaking. Nobody wants me to win. Nobody wants me to even be there. So should I even care? What if all my effort would be pointless? It is not that public opinion is what I desperately need. But if you get hate after hate, you slowly start believing that you suck."

*The woman thought for a moment, but finally decided to get an answer to a question she wasn't sure if she should ask.*

"So you're going to give up?"

*Hana rubbed her hands nervously over her face, then looked up at the psychiatrist again.*

"Actually, I was thinking of asking not to be in Clash this year...but I guess I shouldn't. Because you see, I have to do something. I can't sit on my ass and feel sorry for myself. Even if sometimes all this hate crushes me like a thousand hands, I have to try to push them away. I have to do something to stand on my feet. I have to at least try..."

*The girl's eyes glazed over, but she didn't cry. She just moved on and talked to the doctor for a while. When she left, Hana felt a little relieved. At least she knew what her goal was and reason to even enter the Clash was. Perhaps understanding this was the key to getting a chance at victory. Sooner or later, Hana would find out.*

30.05.2023 Northeast Siberia, Russia

"She is a god with no love left for her people, nor do they have any left for her."

*Hana thought for a long time how to approach all of this. Should she just pretend nothing happened? Or was it better to admit to all the terrible things Havoc had done? Well, if she could do it, maybe then everyone would stop looking at her like she was a fraud. However, there was no certainty that she could desperately cling to. In a way she was on the verge of making another mistake. That's why she chose to be honest with herself. How was she feeling? What did she want to tell everyone? That's what she decided to focus on, regardless of what other people thought. After all, it couldn't be any worse. There was nothing that could change much the attitude of those around her.*

*The shot opens in the coldest part of Siberia. Even during the summer, the temperatures are quite low here, which allows us to see, lying down snow and thick ice. This space seems to be very quiet, and can even be considered pretty dead. After a while, however, the creaking of ice is heard, as someone slowly approaches the camera. Not caring at all that it is crazy cold, Hana walks across the ice, wearing a long light blue satin dress. In her long blood red hair there is pinned, what looks like a veil with small crystals. Her dark red lips match the small pouch she holds in her hand. Hana's face seemed to be full of sadness, and her eyes became empty for a few moments. When she finally opens her mouth, her words echo across this land of ice. She sits down on the thick layer.*

A sense of isolation. Even though I always had the impression that I didn't fit anywhere and I wasn't very likeable, I think it's really bothering me now. Although I've never considered myself someone who would strive to be liked by everyone, I don't think anyone wants to be alone. So I am very lucky that I managed to find a few people in my life, who showed me what it means to be loved at all costs. My family. My friends, though they are only a few. But most of all, my beloved husband. Without him, I don't know what would have happened to me. Aside from all that demon hunting drama. He had every reason to let go. Even if he understands what it means to be possessed by Havoc, he may have had negative feelings about me, without intending to do so. All this time, I was avoiding him on purpose. I guess, I just didn't want to look him in the eyes, because I was afraid of what I would see in them. I was scared to see eyes as cold as a block of ice. However, the first time I looked at him properly was during The Great War. I saw nothing but relief and unconditional love. He didn't hate me, he was glad to have me back. You can't even imagine how lucky I am to find a guy like that. Someone who, despite all these nightmares, not only hasn't turned his back on me, but also loves me even more. I had a lot of thoughts while Havoc lived in me, and even more when I finally got rid of him. I've often wondered if it wouldn't be better if I just killed myself. I've even been close a few times. However, I did have a certain thought. If my husband fought so hard to get me back, I'd have to be selfish to leave him now. So I decided to work on myself. I go to the psychiatrist twice a week and try my best. I do everything so that others can see that I am not as bad as it may seem. Of course, I'm not perfect. Nobody is. There are many unpleasant things that I am responsible for. But feeling sorry for yourself won't change anything. I'm really sick and tired of this atmosphere. I don’t want to walk around this place with the fear that I might offend someone with my presence itself. Despite all the death threats I keep getting...I want to live! I want to find happiness in life again, and I believe that it will happen.

Is Clash the way to it? Honestly, I have no idea. I have so many thoughts in my head that I don't know which one is correct anymore. The thing is, seeing how hard my loved ones work, one way to show gratitude to them is also to try my fucking best. I know it won't fix the bad things that happened. But what else can I do? I'm not a fairy, I can't wave a magic wand and change the past. I just have to admit that Hana has been and probably will be considered Goddesses of Death and Misery for a while. I have to accept that I won't get any sympathy, and that's okay. You don't have to like me, it's not like anything has changed since my first day. I just need to start doing something to stop feeling like I'm deep underwater and can't catch my breath, because there's a thick layer of ice blocking my path to freedom.

At this point, I don't even know if I want to be in this match. Not because I'm scared. Not because I believe I owe anyone a favor. I just lost my passion for wrestling. And you don't even know how awful it feels to look indifferently at something you've always loved. You don't even understand how much it breaks my heart to know that normally I would be very happy that such an opportunity is at my fingertips. Clash was always a dream of everybody on the roster. But now, I feel nothing but emptiness. I don't think of it as a dream, but as a job that needs to be done. Though, don't get me wrong. It's not like I've given up on wrestling completely. I just hope that such a demanding challenge like Clash will help me regain my passion. I'm really trying to believe that being competitive is what will allow me to regain a part of myself. Because to be honest, it annoys me that practically nothing makes me happy. Not my interests, not even my favorite food. I'm tired of it all, I just feel numb. I am literally nothing more than a decomposing corpse, and if I don't do anything about it, there's no coming back. So in a way, I feel like this Clash is very important to me. Perhaps this is the most relevant moment in my career. Why? Because I feel that on this unpredictable battlefield, I will be able to find answers to the questions that torment my head. This will allow me to love wrestling again, and above all, myself.

I'm not saying this to make you feel sorry for me. Some time ago I became convinced that no one is able to understand me. All the words of comfort I have received so far, have been dishonest and fake. It was all just gibberish to look good in front of the cameras, but the attitude of a lot of people hasn't changed anyway. Some of your great 'heroes' literally have made some 'Hana hatred fanclub', and it's sad. It's sad how your heroism has zero value, because you have no empathy, or even understanding of the situation. You shit talk on things I had no control over. You're trying to turn my husband against me to the point where he has to make a formal statement, telling you to just leave me alone. He understands what happened. My friends know what a fucked up situation I'm in. And people like Thotyssey and Marie? You're amused that my life is one big mess. You are happy that other people suffer like this. Fuck such a fake ass heroes. While I tried to understand Marie, because she lost two loved ones to Havoc, these two bitches from Thotyssey are not even worth shit. And I'm not saying that because I'm jealous, Marie. You have my congratulations, because you were simply better that night. But that doesn't change the fact that you've been just dishonest all this time. You pretended to understand, and as someone who works with supernatural bullshit, you should have known. You should understand that demonic possession is not a walk in the park. You know that I had zero control over this. And yet you joined their hate propaganda. It's a shame, but apparently you care about sticking with the likes of Thotyssey. Although if I were you, I'd reconsider whether it's worth hanging out with people like that. As we have already seen on the road to the Great War. To some point, they act like 'sisters', but without blinking an eye, they use the harm of one of them to reap the benefits. They parasite even on each other. So it's only a matter of time before they use you and throw you away like a used condom.

Felix...Filth...You are just a fucking cunts. Sure, it is nice you helped during the Great War, but from the beginning it was clear that you were doing it for your own benefit. You didn't care about me, or that damn company. The only reason you pushed yourselves into all this shit is to get some attention, and gain that hero label. Why? To get permission to do what you like and have zero consequences. So these are our guardians of morality? Good fucking joke. The fact is, you are nothing but a bunch of mean girls cosplayers. You are a fucking bullies. And above all, you are terrible egomaniacs. Your pussy saved the world, heh? It is so fucking dumb that I can't believe you said that. Not to mention the fact that, by taking all the credit for yourself, you spit in the face of the rest of your team. Knowing these boys are way more traumatized, and it was so difficult for them. So even if you've done something useful once, you have to sexualize everything. Not being a whore for a moment might not kill you, you know? Is it really satisfying for you to be seen that way, Filth? What kind of shit it is to begin with? Being just a boobs and ass is one of the most overrated 'personality types' these days. You really want to act like someone special, but you are simply like everybody. You could really show something more interesting than all these kinky shit and cheap porn monologues. But it seems like you are going by that shitty logic...sex sells best. And there may be some truth to that, but only to some point. As eye catching as it may seem, it gets boring even faster. At the end of the day, people want something more than what they can find all over the internet.

If Filth tries to make everything about herself, then I don't even know what to say about Felix. She follows a dumb way of her bestie, but in a slightly different way. How? She's having a pity party. What was that even supposed to mean? You completely randomly disappear and don't talk to anybody for two weeks. Then come back as if nothing had happened and force everyone to pay attention to you. What's more, you act like you've already won this motherfucking Clash, when it hasn't even started. Excuse me, you think you have a bigger right because you made people feel sorry for you? Disgusting. But you know what? That scene at the end of Odyssey was charming, but don't forget it is not only about you. You have the entire field of pretty good competition. And honestly? When I look at this damn roster, I see at least ten people who can take this victory. Including me. So don't be so confident in yourself, Felix. The last time you had that attitude, it didn't work out for you. Last time you were crushed by Dinatha' boot. And even after that, you couldn't accept your failure. This is an example of what happens when you pamper someone. They become so fucking delusional. But what expect from Barbie who always had everything? You immediately put on a tantrum and blame others. That person did this, the other ruined that. Did you forget how you and the rest of your faction were interfering into other people' matches? How is that different? If you were thinking it was okay back then, then why are you complaining now? Don’t be a hypocrite. And now you demand another chance, but for what? You and the whole Thotyssey got way too many title opportunities anyway. Even if you didn't deserve it. Sometimes it was enough for one of you to give a head to the company owner. And you think that's okay? I'm not the only person who thinks this is fucked up. Most of these roster is fucking sick and tired of Thotyssey. And it's not that we're afraid of you, or jealous. You just ruin everything, because you're greedy and you make everybody feel miserable. You don't even realize how much wrestling means to many of these women. For years they have struggled to be recognized as athletes, not just attraction. Just so someone like you came here and regressed them to the divas era. Because when you see that your brand representatives behave like this, there is only one conclusion. They think the whole division is supposed to be like this. This gives the fans one idea....that this company doesn't respect their women and only uses them as bait for horny fifty year old virgins, who will pay millions to see an underboob. And this is not what I came for. This is not a vision of women's wrestling that we tried to create for years.

We have a division full of talent that has been overlooked for the benefit of the likes of you. Look at Ruri Kuzunoha, Tomomi Shinozaki, Josie Grey, Ellie Quinn and many more. Some of them still didn't get their chance. So I am sure that not only them, but also the old dogs like Alyssa Grace or Rebeca Brookes are ready tio take on that challenge and take that win for themselves. I also don't intend to back off. So, you see, maybe you survived The Great War, but the real one is just about to begin.

*Hana finally pulls an item out of a small pouch, which turns out to be the dagger that Havoc used to murder way too many people. The girl stares at it for a moment.*

It may seem to everyone that I am not ready to fully return to the ring. You don't have to be very intelligent to notice that I don't look especially well recently. I often hallucinate. It happens that I have stupid ideas in an act of despair, that makes me end up in the emergency room. When you look at me, you see how pale I am when I talk about all of this. My fucking gaze is piercing, empty and full of regret. Even if I am full of the emotions inside, I literally seem as cold as a block of ice.

*Quite unexpectedly, Hana swings her dagger and cuts her hand, causing a trickle of blood to drip onto her dress and ice in front of her.*

I might be hurt. I might be cold, but as long as my blood is boiling hot, I will finally break through that ice layer. I will gain my freedom and win Clash of the Titans. I will not give up till my body refuses to go. You don't have to understand me. Just believe in me. This is all I am asking for.

*As the camera moves closer, it catches the little drawing that Hana made from her blood. Namely, a blooming rose.*

VaeVictisBD, Christopher Sabertooth, Jeff X, Alyssa Grace, Remington Ivory Prescott and DT The Ruler have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos May 30th 2023, 12:35 am by **The Banshee**

CD PROMO

The camera opens up on the smug and confident smile of William McDonnell, sitting behind a large oak desk, with a high-end smartphone lying next to his unflinching hand. A bronze nameplate that states, "William McDonnell, CEO" sits dead center on the desk, and an enlarged version of the latest Clash PPV poster hangs behind the man in the windowless office. He then begins speaking in his deep and guttural voice that only shows a hint of an Irish accent.

OWA Promos - Page 4 200.gif?cid=87c4e7fac6yw2plcwjbjranhcdv7sjlhvn0z2oytfuv4nqh2&ep=v1_gifs_search&rid=200

Will McDonnell: Hello everyone, my name is William Finnegan McDonnell. As some of you Odyssey viewers may or may not know, I was once the adoptive father of one Morrighan... well, allowing her to use my surname of "McDonnell" was perhaps the most generous gifts that I ever bestowed upon that ungrateful bitch, but the truth of the matter is this...

Morrighan was NEVER a part of Clan McDonnell... in fact, here's another "truth bomb," as you fucking young idiots like to say in your precious little TikTok clips, regarding Morrighan's actual "heritage." I hope "The Horde," those sad sacks of shit that rooted for her are watching this, especially those across the Emerald Isle...

Morrighan... was not even BORN in Ireland!

Yes... I do have proof that I will make available for anyone to see online. Thanks to an incredible woman... and a CURRENT business partner... the Odyssey General Manger, Llorona... Starting tonight, these documents can be seen on the Odyssey home page, on the World Wide Web.

Now, in regards to Morrighan's parentage... does it really matter? No one even knows who the father is, and her mother was just some random whore that dropped her off at some backwoods firehouse somewhere in the great state of Louisiana... and yes, I said "great state," because the true pinnacle of success in wrestling, Diantha Rosso, represents the immense potential that even some garbage swampland like Louisiana can offer the world.

As far as Diantha goes, her talent rises well beyond wrestling, because she made it so that people can mention Louisiana without any hints of snickering, mockery, or embarrassment. She's been nothing but an absolute pleasure to work with, and some potential opportunities to do business together in the near-future is a just a matter of time. After all, I only endorse and sponsor winners, the absolute creme de la creme, and there is no MAN OR WOMAN in the history of professional sports that has been more successful, more dominant, and more influential than Ms. Rosso, unlike that hackneyed has-been, washed-up junkie brother of hers, but sometimes we can't "choose" who is a part of our family...

Unless, of course, you're someone that can afford it...

Someone... like... me... HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!

In fact, anyone on the Odyssey roster that has suffered at the hands of my former pet should contact my office. I need some information for future purposes, and will pay handsomely for anything related to Morrighan... and please note that I am not ever going to refer to Morrighan as "The Banshee" EVER AGAIN! I CREATED THE BANSHEE! IT WAS ALL ME!

IT WAS ME, WILLIAM FINNEGAN MCDONNELL!!!

I'm the one that funded Project: Siren! It was my research that led me to find infants that would serve as the perfect candidates! And despite the overall failure of Morrighan, "The Banshee" was indeed "unleashed" and "created," but not through any dark rituals or backwoods hocus pocus...

"The Banshee" was created through science and art... thanks to the power of the almighty pound, or dollar for you grimy obese American sheeple...

And just like any successful invention, it's a process that can not only be duplicated...

It can also be improved upon immensely... which is why I have decided to bring The Banshee back to Odyssey, but this is not the monster that the gullible idiots that cheered her name came to love... this creature, which I will bring to the Clash of the Titans PERSONALLY, and thanks to Llorona for the complimentary executive suite that I'll be watching the show unfold from. But in case I haven't been clear enough, let me speak more broadly, because I know how stupid American people really are...

Morrighan McDonnell is NOT THE BANSHEE... She's not even a true "MCDONNELL," because... let's face it, orphans aren't really true humans, but just unwanted fetal trash that serve no beneficial functions to society...

So don't plan on seeing Morrighan at the Clash... or ever again, because people don't return from death, especially when I OWN THE REAPER! This isn't Hollywood. That being said, allow me to specifically address one SPECIFIC person, before I return to planning the future of Odyssey...

Marie Bouchard... young lady, my company intentionally has no dealings with Canada, because I cannot endorse the largest third world country on the planet simply out of principle, yet you seem intent on sticking your ugly French-Canadian nose into my business, so allow me to generously impart onto you this ONE AND ONLY WARNING...

YOU WILL CEASE ANY AND ALL ACTIVITIES RELATED TO THE "REVIVAL" OF MORRIGHAN!!!

Do you understand me? Because the next time I hear about any such actions, I'll arrange to make your life a living nightmare both in and outside the ring, to the point that you'll look at those burned alive in the Salem witch trials with absolute envy, because the pain you'll endure will make fire feel like moisturizer in comparison. You've been warned... Remember, your GM, while being a fair and compassionate woman and leader, has become a close acquaintance of mine recently, so unless you want that freshly-won Goddesses Championship suddenly taken from you, then I suggest you keep that mouth closed, because it won't be a spell that I'll have put on you...

It'll be the end of your career, and perhaps more, if you're careless... And no, I don't care at all about that stable of whores you've since befriended, because I can't respect any streetwalking tramps that lost to the former Banshee... but my new Banshee?

Her reign of terror will make anything that Havoc has done the entire time OWA has been on the air look like a 1950s montage of people walking in the park on bright sunny days... But, I digress...

Thank you everyone for your time. My name is William Finnegan McDonnell... for now, I'm just a tycoon with ties to this industry, but money buys power, so who knows what the future holds for Odyssey...

MY ODYSSEY!

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!

(Will McDonnell slams his fists down on the desk, shattering it in an explosion of wood chips and splinters, as he continues to laugh maniacally, the camera slowly fading to black.)

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

Re: OWA Promos May 29th 2023, 10:31 pm by **#BeLikeBea**

LONDON, ENGLAND.
BEA HAVERTZ VS THE WORLD, PART 001.

(The amount of time that our beloved Bea Havertz is able to spend with her parents these days is more limited than she would like. Whilst her hardworking nature is hereditary and her parents understand why the number of visits their darling daughter pays is on the smaller side, Bea would be lying if she said that it didn’t occasionally sting to be so far away from those who raised her to be the woman that she is today. Following another successful Odyssey appearance, Bea decided that she was going to make time to return home where she currently remains. Our scene opens up to Bea sitting in her cosy but still lavish bedroom. She’s cross legged on the bed, dressed in a comfortable pair of pyjamas, her hair is plaited and a facemask ensures her skin remains as perfect as possible whilst an episode of The Guilty Feminist podcast plays quietly. Before Bea sits scrapbook pages made by her during her teenage years, hence the abundance of bright pink glitter glue on the pages, she smiles to herself as she flips through the book, even in her youth, it seems like Bea has always been laser focused on becoming a household name some day.)

My entire life, I’ve always chased the biggest prize available to me.

As a child, it was always the big gold chocolate medal awarded to the victor of a sprint, as a teenager it was always being top of whatever class I was in, as a young adult it was attending the greatest university in my home country and ever since graduating, the biggest prize available to me has changed, well, the means in which I can dominate the field that the most people are interested have changed but my determination and desire to have all eyes on me has stayed the same if not only increased in strength.

I have also spent the entirety of my life getting what I want – and despite popular belief, not all of it has been thanks to assistance from my parents.

(Bea casually gestures to the shelves in one corner of her room where an assortment of accolades sit, all earned, none purchased.)

I got the big gold chocolate medal as I spent lots of time playing sport, following in my mother’s footsteps and taking as much care of myself physically as I could. I was the top of every class because I spent as much of my free time as possible studying, I had tutors to guide me and I willingly went multiple steps beyond just for the bragging rights. I attended the greatest university in my home country, Oxford, because I worked hard and got the grades to do so. And I am going to dominate the field that the most people are currently interested in by winning the Clash of The Titans and advancing to the grandest stage of them all. That’s not a prediction btw, it’s a spoiler.

You may be surprised to hear this but I’m not going into this match assuming it won’t be difficult. I know this is going to be one of, if not the toughest match of my career. I know luck and ring awareness are going to play a part due to just how many women will occupy such a small space at the same time regardless if they’re deserving of doing so or not, but I’m ready. My experience in battle royals is non-existent but that doesn’t deter me from this at all. If nothing else, it makes me want this win even more. I’m sure when all is said and done, everybody is going to be sick of hearing me talk about winning this and how badly I and thousands of people on the internet want me to win this but that’s okay because I’m not about to start caring about the wants and needs of those around me unless it benefits me. I’m coming full throttle, guns blazing, hellbent on getting this win and securing my path to the Undisputed Women’s World Championship that is just going to look gorgeous around my snatched waist. I know there’s specific people in this match that could make my life difficult this week, and I’m fine with that. I’m pretty sure I have a good idea of who’s going to cause me the most trouble because I’m that smart. Rest assured, they will be dealt with accordingly, both verbally and physically.

(Bea turns the pages until she reaches a specific one, one made not in her youth, but made today actually. On the page are photographs of every confirmed competitor for the Clash Of The Titans event so far. Apart from the photo of herself and Angelina Magnum, derogatory and rather juvenile drawings and insults have been scribbled on and around.)

Breathing trashbags, get ready for hell of a week.

(Bea closes her eyes and randomly points to a photograph on the page. Her manicured finger lands on Dr Bethany Hastings who has comically large glasses drawn over her eyes and the word sanctimonious written beneath her. When she opens her eyes and sees this, she scowls.)

Ugh. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to encounter Bethany again.. and no before ANYBODY tries to say that it’s because Bethany was the better woman the last time we faced off or even more absurdly that I’m afraid of her, let me make it clear that I want Dr. Bethany Hastings as far away from me as possible is because she’s sanctimonious. Yes, I’ll define that for you all, Bethany pretends to be morally superior to those around her when that just isn’t the case. I don’t vibe with people like that, people who can’t authentically be themselves, even if their authentic self sucks. It’s always crucial to be who you’re meant to be in life and I am the way I am because of that, I don’t pretend to be something I’m not. I know that I may not be the best person in the world and that’s fine with me. Odyssey is such a complex place and whilst a lot of the personalities here do disgust me, I make sure to do everything in my immense power to only associate with the upper echelon of society the second I’ve been declared victorious in the ring, at least the freaks of society like Ellie Quinn, Cassie Wu and Dani Fatale aren’t frauds! I’d actually argue that the reason Odyssey is so successful is thanks to the controversy, it creates cash after all and this is a business, we’re all here to do our jobs and our jobs are to go out there, wrestle well and attract eyes to the product, this isn’t a playground where we’re all nice to one another because we’re just such genuinely kindhearted girls, who on earth wants to see that?! No, the true reason Bethany tries so hard (and fails) to ‘fix’, ‘alter’ or ‘clean up’ Odyssey is simple – no one remotely cares about her because she has absolutely nothing to offer to the world and therefore she must be different so there’s some attention on her. Bethany is overshadowed constantly by those she looks down on and instead of just accepting that she’s never going to change the world in the ways she desperately hopes, she stays and continues to try. Pathetic. Everything is about business and for me it’s about devising the perfect foolproof strategy to pair with my immaculate physical conditioning and unparalleled spatial awareness that will make Bea Havertz the 2023 Clash of The Titans winner, because that’s the woman who will soon be the champion Odyssey may not want, maybe not even the champion they need, but the champion that Odyssey deserves.

Champions…

(Bea’s finger dances over the portraits of Marie Bouchard, Ruri Kuzunoha and Rin Asakura. Rin’s has been completely crossed out. Marie has a stereotypically unflattering witches hat, hair and big teeth drawn on her and Ruri has a confused expression drawn over her.)

Ruri is quite obtuse without even realising it. Many people would perhaps consider her partner, Rin, to be cowardly for not appearing in this match. However, I think it's very smart of her! She saw my name on the list of confirmed names and just knew that any hope of her advancing onto Final Destination died a slow and painful death right there and then so she saved herself from total and utter embarrassment. Why didn’t Ruri do the same? Is Ruri some kind of sick freak who gains pleasure from being humiliated? She must be. She’s walking into this without the only reason she’s had a degree of success here in OWA and she’ll be quick to leave in that manner too. Oh well, some lessons have to be learned the hard way!

Then we’ve got the lion, the witch and the audacity of this pathetic b*tch! Marie Bouchard, everyone’s favourite victim. Someone blessed with supernatural powers and still can’t punch her way out of a bag. Someone who chooses exceptionally stupid people to surround herself with and then is surprised when they do the only thing they know how to – act exceptionally stupid and consequently get themselves killed. The day Marie dies, which for my sake, I hope is very soon, she won’t be remembered as anything special, she’ll go down like the company she kept and the only time people will mutter her name will be to mock her. She’s only the Goddesses Champion because Hana Nakajmia felt bad and I’m sure there’s some weakminded people who pity Marie but I’m not one of them. I don’t care about anything that she’s gone through because her suffering hasn’t been for character development or anything like that, the things she’s gone through won’t make her better because she just doesn’t have what it takes. She has suffered just to suffer and will continue doing so just someone has to be the punching bag. Sure, Marie is good enough to take part. But she has NEVER been good enough to take over. Anyone who wants to see her be a World Champion is just blinded by their attraction towards her because all Marie knows how to do is make rash decisions that never end well for her. Imagine if somebody so reckless held the thing that carries the most responsibility in the world of wrestling today? I just shuddered. It wouldn’t end well for anybody and someone's personal preferences will never overpower the greater good and the greater good is living in a world where Marie Bouchard is far, far away from the world championship picture. OWA needs people like Marie. OWA needs good hands, most useful for a very special purpose: to stand in the backdrop of a vision greater than theirs, raising my arm.

(Bea’s eyes scan the page once more, very briefly they land on Ellie Quinn and Jessica Rose. Bea contemplates completely overlooking the images but she decides otherwise, picking up a big red marker and not just crossing them out but completely colouring them in so all we can see are two red squares. She smiles, clearly very satisfied.)

There! Not like anything of value was lost.

(Her smile transforms into a little chuckle as she comes across Gwen Harper and Josie Grey. Josie is wearing a poorly draw beret, in her hands is a baguette and she has a cigarette dangling from her lips. Gwen’s eyes have two ‘x’s’ over them, akin to how deceased animals are portrayed in media.)

You know the only thing better than beating a French person once? Beating a French person twice! Josie’s kind are not deserving of anything good this life has to offer, people like me continue to personally prove that to be true and sometimes I contemplate if Josie’s kind are even deserving of the bare necessities but I digress. Never in her life will I let Josie forget that I am superior to her in every way possible, I find doing so to be very, very enjoyable. I just hope that she is able to remain in the match until I strut in so I can eliminate her myself, maybe she can, for the first time in her life, play a role in something far greater than herself and eliminate some of the competition for me! Wishful thinking since French people can’t do anything right if their life depended on it but what can I say? I like to give people chances. Smile

Daddy of course watched Angie and myself graciously pick up a victory on the last Odyssey episode and in his expert opinion Gwen Harper is not only a disgrace to the glorious sport that is hunting but she is also a disgrace to the world of wrestling. He says that firstly, her hunting licence should be revoked and secondly she should be fired from the OWA and guess what? I totally agree! Being in the ring with Gwen Harper SUCKED. It was awful! Legit my worst nightmare! Wanna know why? It’s because she absolutely reeks and not even of just mediocrity! I don’t think Gwen even knows what hygiene is, we have a severe 23-19 with her and the fact she’s employed and allowed to just walk around looking the way she does is a crime to my senses! Someone really needs to do something about her and I will pay anyone else in this match to get her out of the ring before I enter it so I don’t pass out. Please message me on Twitter if you’re interested, thanks. :nauseated_face:

(Bea hums to herself as she scans the photos of the women she has yet to talk about, she isn’t really impressed by any of them. She yawns in dramatic fashion.)

Rebecca Brookes? The less cool Rebecca.

Aalyah Landerson? Why was her father allowed to procreate?

April Song? Carers for the elderly clearly don’t get paid enough to care about what happens to those who are already one foot in the grave.

Alyssa Grace? Emo’s should be extinct. I will be getting rid of tumblr. Tiktok is soooo better.

Apollonia Cipriano? Oh that’s the name of the lady who cooked my pizza at the italian restaurant! Good, I wanted to know who was responsible for RUINING pizza for me FOREVER with her abysmal cooking! Reported to every health and safety inspector in the country.

Cassie Wu? Great pyjamas, awful everything else.

Dani Fatale? Punks are worse than emos.

Devi Krysis? Anyone got the number for the national institute for the mentally handicapped? Someone has escaped again!

Freya Vittoria Cunningham? Can’t be any worse than the last Cunningham we had. Should be banned from OWA though, just in case. One pandemic at a time please.

Hana Nakajima? Medication and help for dissociative identity disorder may be hard to find but luckily I’ve got some numbers I can call for Hana!

Jamie Thotsen? Felix Hartley from wish dot com. Nothing special. Nothing we haven’t seen before. Who is this ‘we’ in #WeWantDivas? The only hashtag and life motto that matters is #BeLikeBea, everyone knows this!

Tomomi Shinozaki? Small. Like really small. Can and will be crushed beneath my boot with ease.

(Bea now sighs in a way that could either be positive or negative. Her fingers graze the photographs of Rebecca Filth and Felix Hartley. Felix’s image has been altered so she is crying as a broken halo sits on her head. Meanwhile, Rebecca has devil horns, a goatee and angry eyebrows.)

And then we have the duo of Felix Hartley and Rebecca Filth.

I don’t quite understand why my debut sparked a bunch of rather nonsensical rumours regarding tension being formed between Rebecca, Felix and Angie, we’re all grown women who have hopefully matured since our highschool days so there’s no reason for anybody to be jealous or anything along those lines. This is the perfect opportunity for me to actually clear the air and publicly say that I have no negative feelings towards Miss Hartley or Miss Filth. In fact, I’m glad that they could be there for Angelina when I was unable to! Or at least, I was.

I remember hearing stories about how great Rebecca and Felix were, I remember women around me tell me that if there’s anybody I should aspire to be like if I want to become a star in wrestling, it’s those two. I almost brought into the things people would say because well, I had no reason not to. But then I did some digging into Rebecca and Felix to see for myself and I found myself to be rather... disappointed. These supposed great women, trailblazers, history makers and icons turned out to be nothing but weak little girls with unresolved emotional issues that affect the relationships around them and not in the best of ways. Sure, they may have won a literal war but I can guarantee that neither of them exactly feel like winners right now so in the grand scheme of things, does that really matter? Nobody in history has ever won a war; some are just lucky enough to survive. That’s all Rebecca and Felix are; survivors. For whatever reason that has been glorified in the world of wrestling but I’m here to serve as a reality check and inform you all that it’s not cool or quirky to be that, it’s honestly downright pathetic. I feel for them. I can never imagine not being able to fully enjoy the beauty life has to offer because I’m up to my neck with problem after problem I’ve caused myself. You can only survive for so long in this world if you aren’t properly equipped physically, emotionally and financially like I am and it’s beginning to show for Felix and Rebecca.

Felix has exposed herself to be a choke artist on an honestly impressive level in more ways than one as of late – I don’t need to sit here and say that she’s not as good as she’s tricked the world into believing because her recent actions are louder than any words I could spew. Nothing she could ever muster up has been good enough to get her the one thing she wants – the undisputed women’s world championship, even with an entire army behind her, she failed in spectacular fashion so why am I supposed to believe that she’s going to turn things around now, because her boyfriend told her so? Please. Jeff was just doing the only thing a man can do well and that’s lying. He lied to her to make her feel better, to try and further shield her from the devastating truth that she’s finally coming to realise, which is that Felix Hartley is a loser. If you ask me, and I’m sure Diantha will agree, Felix has had one too many chances and her misery is honestly getting boring to witness. It’s painful to watch her disappoint everybody in her life whether they be dead or alive and it’s about time Diantha get a new challenge, an actual challenge, Felix was never going to be that and I’m glad the world is waking up and realising that. To the back of the line she goes and the back of the line is where she can stay!

And sure, Rebecca may feel a degree of momentum due to the fact she beat Aria Jaxon but well.. she beat Aria Jaxon. Aria may be a legend in OWA but she’s not a legend on Odyssey. In fact, Aria might be the first woman in history to return to work after having a child and actually being worse than what she was prior to pregnancy so getting a win over her isn’t exactly impressing me, anyone could beat Aria Jaxon with one hand at this point so it’s kinda like, whatever. I find myself agreeing with everything Rebecca had to say about Aria and that’s the first and only time a woman like me will be on the same page as a woman like Rebecca Filth. History has already shown that when they must fight against one another, Felix is the better woman and do you know how badly you must suck if Felix Hartley is better than you?! Everything Rebecca has managed to accomplish in recent memory which can be considered somewhat impressive is thanks to Felix and Angelina or anyone else she’s manipulated into spending time with her. She can’t make it alone and sure; I know the argument of her making it to last years Final Destination main event and winning it was done solo but allow me to remind you all that minute she reached the peak she realised that she wouldn’t be able to handle the heat or the pressure and boom Tho- that stable was born. Winning the clash once doesn’t automatically guarantee a victory again and considering that this year’s line up is far deadlier and challenging than last year’s – thanks to yours truly btw – the experience crutch that I’m sure Rebecca is going to cling to like her life depends on it is only going to further splinter. It’ll shatter the moment the clash begins and Rebecca finds herself standing toe to toe with me, and I’m going to smile as I clean this pile of filth up for the good.

(Bea places the marker in her hand once more and circles Rebecca and Felix. She then moves onto the photo of Angelina, the only photo that hasn’t been desecrated. She draws a heart next to the stars around her.)

Saving the best until last, my dear Angie!

I feel like I owe you an apolo- an apol- I feel a little bad to be perfectly honest with you. It wasn’t until after we picked up that victory that we said we would that I began to realise just how much you’ve gone through in less than six months. I feel like I should have done more for you, to help you, to make sure that you never had to go and fight in that silly old war to begin with! I know there’s no point contemplating the what ifs but I can’t shake the feeling that perhaps I should have come to OWA sooner for you instead of wasting my time in lower tier places trying to bring an ounce of recognition to them. You’ve always been able to hold your own, I know that but your big and kind heart has unfortunately gotten you into so much unnecessary trouble. Women like you and I are meant to do little more than reign as queens, our hands should never be dirty because there’s always long lines of men and women ready to die getting their hands dirty for us. I hope you haven’t forgotten that. I hope you haven’t forgotten the icon, the goddess that you are.

But it’s okay! I’m going to make it up to you and fix things, I promise! Very Happy

We, together, are going to get you all the help you need to heal through this less than ideal time. As much retail therapy as humanly possible, spa day after spa day, a conversation or two with a therapist with qualifications that would blow Bethany Hastings ones out of the water and that’s just where we’ll start! I’m rather disappointed and disgusted that this company isn’t doing more to highlight and appreciate your strength but I suppose if you want a job done properly, you’ve got to do it yourself and that’s what I plan on doing. Any and everything you may need, you will get from your good ole’ friend Phoebe, it’s going to be my pleasure to be here for you as much as I can be...

After we win the clash and that Undisputed Women’s World Championship. When one of the Powerbuff Girls win, we both win.

Jeff X, Remington Ivory Prescott, DT The Ruler, Felix Hartley and Dr. Bethany Hastings have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos May 29th 2023, 10:23 pm by **Alyssa Grace**

GLAD THAT I MADE IT OUT. – CLASH OF THE TITANS.

INHERITED YOUR DAD’S CRAZY EYES, HISTORY REPEATS OUR WHOLE DAMN LIVES.

Complacency.

Direction.

The two things I have struggled the most with in recent memory.

Don’t get me wrong, there is always a decent chunk of satisfaction I feel deep within my system knowing that I do as I please, walk where I desire to walk, act as I wish to act and face nothing but the most meagre and inconsequential of resistances for having the audacity to do so. New and upcoming battles shall be chosen for reasons only understood by the woman who matters most, myself, the wars I wage are now for purposes that are far different from what once filled my bones, satisfying the beast of an ego that I have is quite a challenge, but when have I ever backed down from one of those?

Though in equal parts, there’s growing discomfort for it. Old…feelings…old…desires slowly rising back towards the surface. I think back to where I was the last time this season rolled around, I think about being a world champion, I think about how more things went wrong for me than they did right during my first opportunity to really prove myself. I think about how I cracked beneath the pressure, I think about the amount of time I’ve spent away from the World Championship scene, I think about how winning this would lead to my first, my only opportunity since Final Destination 2022 to challenge for the one thing I wholeheartedly believe I can elevate to levels never seen before and I’m filled with nothing but rage. I can say over and over again to nobody, to everybody, the ghosts that linger about, to the spiderwebs in my mind that none of it is fair, none of it is fair to me, but what good is that going to do? Life isn't fair, and I have learned to live with the cards I’ve been dealt with in my own unique way.. by incinerating them all and demanding for a new hand. Sadness regarding last year died a painful death and from the ashes of my melancholy arose determination, anger and a pinch of spite that I’ve never experienced before. Maybe wrath and grief are the same thing, maybe wrath isn't a sin but a virtue, a human honesty of the ugliness of the world.

The ebb and flow of life can be impossible at times to control. Letting control of order and disorder in one's life slip through the cracks is unfortunately all too easy. One idea roots itself in the base of your mind and remains, slowly spreading its roots across your mind until it is the only thing you can think of. Taking you from one path and placing you on another. The list of things that I am an exception to is long -- too long for me to even care to go through to find out how long it is -- but this is one area that I am not. The reason why I wake up, what I choose to do on any given day. For almost three and a half years, I believed it was resolute – I thought that reason, that justification for all that you see and hear from me was unbreakable. Yet, all it took was a lone idea. One single concept lodging itself within, manifesting its idea throughout to leave me here, questioning my greater goal, questioning that reason, that justification. I feel as if I’ve leapt forward with all my might and now the bungee is destined to snap me back to where I first began. No matter how much I delight in flexing the greatness that I have earned throughout my career, fruits of my hellish labour, there remains growing dissatisfaction. I have always had a greater vision. A greater goal that flung me forward even during the most stagnated of times but here, now, I have nothing of the kind. Resisting who one is has always been a forlorn task. Like the closing of this chapter, soon enough the reality of who we are will boil to the surface. The clock is ticking over, sand is falling through the throat of an hourglass and it won’t stop until one cannot ignore who they truly are.

I am not alone in this and neither are any of the women unfortunate enough to find themselves in what is soon to be my Clash Of The titans.

What I am is simple – sick. Sick as a dog. Sick as a god.

I no longer have the desire to even attempt hiding it.

And I’m not going to pretend that more than half of the playing field has any chance of winning this. There are multiple names that don’t even deserve the privilege of being uttered by me so I’m just going to lump all of the trash together to save myself some valuable time. We have the champions. Bethany and Ruri, the chosen duo walking into this solely because of their ambition to do more, to be more. It’s honourable and perhaps it would be achievable if.. if I wasn’t in this match. And this isn’t a unique problem that only those names will have to deal with. The hard work, the lengths that everybody in this match have pushed themselves to in order to be at their peaks, the mental obstacles that everybody has had to overcome to even get here ultimately do not matter simply because I exist and I currently exist in the best form I’ve ever been.

At least they’ll have their respective divisions to fall back onto when all is said and done, that’s much more than what any other loser of this bout has and I hope none of them are taking that for granted. The fact that Aalyah, April, Apollonia, Bea, Cassie, Dani, Devi, Ellie, Freya, Gwen, Jamie, Jessica, Josie, the Rebecca nobody cares about, and Tomomi were even greenlit for an opportunity of grandeur that is so above their reach is honestly rather insulting to the few women who actually give a damn about what they do here. Can anybody look me dead in the eye and confidently, truthfully say that they can picture any of the aforementioned names doing battle against, I say the following statements through gritted teeth, one of the best wrestlers this generation has ever produced in the form of Diantha Rosso or one of the most cunning women I’ve had the misfortune of dealing with in my career in the form of Skylar Arceneaux? Especially on a stage as important as Final Destination? Anyone who says they could is a big fat liar. None of these ladies have what it takes whether that be against me or against many of the names fortunate enough not to be piled in with that steaming pile of horse manure. Unequivocally, the deck is stacked against every single one of them and I’ll explain why. They, in general, do not have what it takes to be an exceptional alpha, because to "have what it takes" you must have something to offer.

And that is where women like them and women like myself part. I have so much to give that I fail to even verbalise the amount. Yes, even to the ungrateful who turn their nose up at my offerings, or to the incompetent who cannot wrap their feeble minds around the blessings I dish out, I have things to offer. Meanwhile they? They have nothing other than hugs, friendship, watered down threats that have been spewed by greater women and other less than impressive traits. It’s about as meaningless as the ‘thoughts and prayers’ that were given to the idiots who decided they were going to fuck around in a literal war and then were emotionally traumatised when they found out. Outside of this, I imagine people like Devi, Aalyah, Cassie, Dani, Jessica, Tomomi, Jamie, Apollonia, Ellie and Freya are a delight to have around, by all accounts I’m sure their friends and confidants are lucky to have them.. as friends and confidants. However in all other aspects, they are burdens. Burdensome lowly vassals occupying space that they will never be fit to occupy. People like Devi especially have an infectious way of appealing to the empathy of those around her, and her disarming congeniality is becoming a disease. Those names which leave a foul taste in my mouth in association with any championship here in OWA in any capacity, even as a potential contender, is a blemish. After all of the blood, sweat and tears poured into the fortification of the top piece of gold by the likes of Diantha and..devil her due..Rebecca Filth.. what business do any of those have in that championship picture? The story of their careers haven’t even been "good job, you tried". Far more successful people have been critiqued far worse than that. The story of their entire careers prior to, during and maybe in some cases after time spent in the OWA has been "good job, you tried, and you failed".

Depending on when I decide to bless the world with my presence in this match, I may be lucky enough to not encounter any of those ants but I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.

One thing I do know about this business though is that suffering is promised. It is part of this world, of this job, of what we do. And none have been forced to accept that more than Marie Bouchard. The goddesses championship that unfortunately sits on her shoulder isn’t enough to stop her from suffocating in the lingering smoke of a fate she never wanted written, after all getting a victory over any version of Hana Nakajima is about as easy as counting to three, if anyone is familiar with the feeling of kicking her sorry ass until you’re simply bored of doing so, it’s me, so I know that the void within Marie is yet to be remotely filled even if she did take one step in the right direction. Would winning the Clash fix this predicament? I guess we’ll never know. The walls around Marie will continue to grow while she continues to decay, her feet will be planted to the floor and she will feel the earth crack to take her under because what she is entering is a catastrophic clusterfuck capable of causing more physical and emotional damage than losing that big oaf ever could. Risking your life for others in the way that Marie has done countless times without consideration is the original joke, what she lived for in the form of Violet Cunningham was taken when she needed it the most and I honestly cannot bring myself to feel sorry for her in the ways the rest of the world have decided to do. Although I now stand alone, I will admit that I feel slighted over the fact I am powerless to change the fact that history says Marie Bouchard and Violet Cunningham were the chosen ones, were the lucky ones who ended The Power Of Incredible Violence’s championship reign. I do wish I could turn back time and somehow alter everything that occurred during Bad Meets Evil pathetic excuse of a championship reign solely because the embarrassment is so pungent that it has stained yours truly but since I cannot, I must settle for a moral victory, I must settle for crushing Marie’s hopes and dreams, I must break her ankles before she can even think about dallying down the path that ends with an opportunity at Diantha Rosso or Skylar Arceneaux at Final Destination. It is not what I want to do, it is not what I want to settle for but I am left with no other choice. At least some enjoyment will be harvested from doing so. The bleeding scarlet crimson in every fracture of Marie’s consciousness is soon to become more than a colour, it’ll become an emotion, a time, a reminder in the shape of Alyssa Grace of what, of who once was and no longer is.

What I will harvest a great amount of enjoyment though is witnessing up close and personal the further demise of everybody's favourite trio who are seemingly coming to learn the same lesson I learned before taking Liz out for good, that no matter how much you say you love somebody, you’ll always begin to back up when their blood pools a little too close to your feet, Thotyssey. Their misery, how everything has unfolded for them in the manner they have since Rebecca Filth did what nobody, myself included thought she would do and fumbled the bag against the fucking banshee of all people, I’ve enjoyed. Admittedly, Angelina wouldn’t exist to me if she had the ability to associate herself with better people so when it comes to her, it’s nothing personal – I didn’t care or think about Angelina Magnum yesterday, I didn’t care or think about Angelina Magnum today and I won’t care or think about Angelina Magnum tomorrow, in fact, the only reason I opted against lumping her in with the Devi Krysis’ of the world is the fact that she’s somehow managed to get the world to care about what happens to her. I’m sure they won’t like what awaits her at the Clash but oh well, she can pick herself up and then scurry off to what's left of the tag scene since I abandoned it with Bea. Anyone with a working brain cell won’t be surprised when the inevitable happens. Meanwhile, with Rebecca and Felix? It is more personal. I’m not ashamed to admit that I stroke the fire with these two for the sake of manufacturing a bit of fire, a bit of spite. I’ve enjoyed watching things break them. I’ve enjoyed watching their desperate, pathetic attempts to rebuild themselves time and time again. I’ve enjoyed listening to their cries of supposed injustice, their misery of being undermined, being mistreated before their sparks were once again extinguished by Diantha Rosso and FTM. For as long as the misery of those who took something from me, the misery of those who I’ve always longed to beat down exists, I find myself at least a little satisfied.

I wonder who will be the Liz and who will be the Alyssa.

My money is on Rebecca being the one with the sense to drop the deadweight. She’ll always kill before she can be killed, and not for a second do I buy into her becoming an even remotely decent person nowadays and it bothers me that she’s pretending to be something that she isn’t. Maybe others are willing to forget just how awful of a woman Rebecca was for well over a year because she’s offering her services to them but I haven’t forgotten or forgiven anything. Is her parading around with a smile on her face and her boyfriend behind on a leash supposed to change anything? Does that change the last twelve months of my life that have been spent oh so slowly but very surely rebuilding myself into the animal one must be to defeat Rebecca Filth? Does that change the emotional rollercoaster I’ve been on? No. It doesn’t. This arc, this slight change in personality means jack shit. In a way, the downward spiral for me began when Rebecca caved my skull in and that’s something I’m going to actually thank her for in the only way that women like us know how to – with teeth and claws bared. I have let myself down, stumbled, failed and diminished the confidence that others have in me once since the last time Rebecca and I faced off and losing to Felix Hartley back in December is the last time that ever happens to me whilst I am here in the OWA. It’s almost impossible to argue against Rebecca being the biggest threat, the most dangerous challenge in this match and that’s why the fight I have to give her cannot remotely be like the one I gave during the biggest opportunity of both our careers to this point. I can accept my failures and I can accept my defeats until this point if I can achieve that destiny I seek. And I can. Now I can. Everybody thinks that progression is endless. And hey, beating Aria Jaxon isn’t an easy feat so I can’t say I’ll be totally surprised if some of the confidence she was once hated for having has returned but the truth is, Rebecca may think that her progression is going to continue to skyrocket without any kind of ceiling above it when the reality is more likely that she hit her peak a year ago with an even similar possibility that she won’t even be that good again, let alone better. Revenge is but an ignition to light the first fire. To consume everything in that grandiose sea of it, to burn away it all. There is desperation lingering on the tip of my tongue, on the very edge of my desires, always as I truly put an end to my misery. In another world, Alyssa Grace allows the past to be the past and allows Rebecca Filth to move on as a changed woman. But I don’t think there’s anything more appropriate than this. Then allowing hatred to burn deep within; to spark that lust, that desire to enact.

At no point have I ever begun to feel sorry for Felix. All these attempts to lower her head, to humble herself are comedic, she’s paraded around as if she’s aware, each time Dinatha has kicked her ass into next Tuesday, she’s come back masqueraded as somebody who seemingly knows what she needs to do in order to reclaim what she desires most. The same song has been overplayed and the same dance has gone out of style. Felix is upset, she’s bothered and when push comes to shove, when she’s once again in a position to show that she’s a better woman than the last time she was humiliated in a way that she doesn’t find pleasurable, the act unravels, the facade is stripped away and the world comes to see that Felix Hartley, even with an entire army behind her, rallying her on, giving her more love, patience, guidance and kindness than she deserves still can’t make her wildest dreams a reality. Deep down she is still the stubborn, delusional cunt who has latched herself on the fantasy that she’s entitled to replicate the greatness she once had, that Rebecca had, that she’s cut from the same cloth as those who she surrounds herself with. It’s time to finally be realistic and this is the perfect environment for Felix to realise that those voices in her head have been right all along. Felix isn’t going to be surrounded by people who will baby her, tuck her hair behind her ear, pat her on the back and softly reassure her that she’s not as awful as she thinks, no, she’s surrounded by people who will cut her nose off just to spite her face. She’s surrounded by people who have to want her to fail yet again, she’s surrounded by people who couldn’t care less about what happens when she stumbles out of the arena, once again heartbroken, she’s stepping into the same danger-zone as I and I am going to personally ensure that drowning in waters too deep will be as uncomfortable as painful as humanly possible.

On the topic of change, let’s talk about Hana Nakajima. It’s been a refreshing amount of time since I’ve been unlucky enough to be in her presence but I am still as confident in my ability to be the reason she doesn’t get a happy ending now as I was at Final Destination last year. I honestly don’t think I’ve truly changed. I’ve only stripped away the facets of what once dragged me down, that which stagnated my further growth. I’ve eliminated the hubris that blinded, eliminated the hubris which dictated more than it ever had any right to dictate. What everyone else sees in me now are simply atheistic alterations, none of which are true, honest changes to the fabric of my being. Hana is somebody who can’t understand that it takes more to merely pose with a different appearance to change. When the stagnate change, when the losers of this world can’t seem to string together victories, what do they change? Music? Finisher? But do you think they ever consider their perspective on the world? Do you think core beliefs truly change? Not at all, it’s why with or without demonic possession, people like Hana Nakajima remain fucking losers who get trampled on by me time and time again without even a second thought at the destruction of a life unfolding beneath the weight of my might. I get it, I get it. “But Alyssa, you’ve done those things! You’re a hypocrite!” And to that, the answer is simple: I was already legendary to begin with. My core beliefs, my ideology have always existed, leaking out when I faced people like Graham Baker and Rebecca Filth. They’ve always been present, always lingering beneath the surface; this time I’ve allowed it to take the centre stage. Great news for me, terrible news for those who aren’t me.

For the very first time in my career here, I am walking into a war that the world wants to see me lose. I no longer am embraced by warm arms wrapping themselves around my body and holding me tight through thick and especially through thin, no, what I feel are ice cold hands doing their best to shove me as far away as humanly possible. And truthfully? That’s the best motivation I’ve had in my entire career. To succeed when the words thrown in your direction by people who simply despise you for one reason or another - fictitious or legitimate - are ones of hatred is one of the sweetest feelings in the world. They hate me, but they can’t stop me. Everyone wants to be the hand that strikes me down but within their hearts they know the impossibility of that task. I haven’t gotten this far and achieved what I have done without making some kind of observation. I’ve stared across at the desperate, tired of waiting and failing, wanting this moment to be theirs. I’ve stared across at the ego driven, those who believed that success was something they were entitled to; not something they had to earn. I’ve stared across the talented rising stars, those who string together enough steps but ultimately stumble at the most pivotal moment; who learn from their minor and ultimately insignificant stagnation. And I’ve stared across at women with nothing to lose. That is who you should fear most. Because what do I have to lose? A reputation that doesn’t suffer in a world where even the most mediocre and hardly talented get praised and held up high with support? Nobody is touching my accolades. Nobody is replicating my feats. Nobody is pushing me out of the goat circle. Nobody is contesting my greatness. And yet, I still have so much more to achieve; so much more to be driven towards. There isn't anyone in this match who surprises me. No story I haven’t seen before, no motivation that hasn’t been thrown before me; no new dream I haven’t held in my hand and crushed, turned to nothing more than dust in the air. No emotion fueled story has ever been too much for me to overcome. I was always destined for this kind of place, high above all else, scorching the earth beneath every foot fall. It was true the very first day I walked through those doors and it is absolutely true now, it’s just taken me a while to remember that.

VaeVictisBD, Jeff X, The Banshee, Elijah Hampton, Remington Ivory Prescott, DT The Ruler, Felix Hartley and Dr. Bethany Hastings have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos May 29th 2023, 9:32 pm by **Dr. Bethany Hastings**

TARGET

Memorial Day in Baltimore, Maryland, and while some denizens of the city are content to spend the day grilling in their backyards, or simply going about their business as they might any other day, there are others – on both sides of the political divide – who have a more vested interest in the well-being of the country.

A stage has been erected near the M&T Bank Stadium, the future site of the upcoming Clash. In front of it, a surprisingly large crowd are cheering on the musical act currently performing. It’s an eclectic mix of wrestling fans, Republican supporters, and working-class citizens from the surrounding area. Behind the crowd is a line of police, standing guard to protect the audience from the crazed protestors who have gathered to disrupt this peaceful event. Antifa, communists, Democratic voters and criminals shout and jeer, trying to drown out the music. It is only the thin blue line that separates them from the patriotic Americans here to enjoy the event.

On the stage, Forgiato Blow, Jimmy Levy, Nick Nittoli and Stoney Dudebro are just wrapping up their set with their new, viral hit ‘Boycott Target’:

“Target, Target, yeah, they targeting… Target, Target, yeah, they target kids…”

As the hip-hop beat dies down and the crowd cheers, they take their bows, say their final words, and exit stage left. The raised platform is empty for only a few seconds, before a woman, immaculately dressed in a red and black silk suit and dress shirt, takes the stage. Dr. Bethany Hastings, the very individual who organized this glorious Memorial Day celebration. Only a few steps behind is her seemingly ever-present guardian Leona, also dressed in a suit and tie but in decidedly more muted colors, and with an earpiece snaking up her neck and feeding her details from the Doctor's private security team spread throughout the crowd.

Ignoring the hateful, disgusting comments shouted at her by the protestors, Dr. Hastings offers a polite round of applause to her musical guests, smiling broadly – but utterly without warmth – as she steps up to the podium and begins to speak with the practiced professionalism of a therapist and political operative.

“My fellow Americans, it’s so wonderful to see how many of you were able to make it out here on this beautiful Memorial Day! Before I get into my planned remarks, I’d like to take a moment to thank everyone who made this impromptu rally possible today. And let’s not forget to give another big round of applause to our musical guests, for taking time out of their busy schedules to perform for us on this lovely afternoon.”

She pauses, as the crowd obliges her request and gives a second round of applause to the MAGA rap group, somehow able to rise above the screams and boos from the protestors stuck on the other side of the police barricades.

“I know firsthand the sort of bravery it takes to push back against the rising tide of filth, sexual degeneracy and mental illness that threatens to drown everything decent left in this proud nation. Not to sink to the level of base puns, but those men have put a target on their own backs by speaking out against the sickness being pushed upon our precious children, just as I’ve had one on my own ever since I took a stand for my own principles many years ago.

And I have to admit, the vile hatred me and my family have been subjected to has only gotten worse since I joined the Omega Wrestling Alliance, taking this culture war onto enemy territory. But I expected as much before I started my righteous crusade, and I refuse to give into the very same fear of reprisal that leaves so many good-hearted men and women paralyzed, unwilling to speak their minds and unable to act upon their own morals and good, Christian beliefs.

I will continue to serve as a soldier in this battle for the soul of not just Odyssey, but of the entire country. But I can’t do it alone. I need your help, I need you to be as brave as the Republicans fighting for our rights in the nation’s capital. I need you to be as brave as our soldiers who – despite the abuse heaped on them by their own government – continue to fight for our rights overseas, even as we speak. We must put aside our petty differences… DeSantis or Trump supporter, it makes no difference in the end, because our enemies are united as we squabble amongst ourselves. If we go into 2024 as a divided force, the only thing that awaits us is defeat…

But I didn’t come here to preach to you about the election, my dear friends. I came to speak about the battle that will be waged sooner than that, in this very arena behind me. About the Clash of the Titans, where the future of Scott Oasis’ company will truly be decided. ‘But Bethany’, you might be saying, ‘it’s only a silly sport’... well, I’m afraid that very same line of thought is what led us to this abysmal point in our nation’s history. There isn’t a single battle in this war that is anything less than of the utmost importance… but just lend me your ear for a moment, and I’ll explain precisely what I mean…”

The scene fades to black, as the voice of Bethany Hastings speaks over the darkness... not the boisterous voice of a woman performing at a political rally, but a calm whisper as she addresses her opponents directly, presumably from the comfort of her own office.

“I don’t think I’m being overly dramatic when I say that there’s more riding on the outcome of this upcoming Clash than simply determining the number one contender for the Women’s World Championship. Oh, if only it were that simple. If this were just some normal wrestling match for a title shot, I might not be feeling the distant tingle of anxiety. But it’s so much more than that.

How I’ve waited for this moment… how I’ve dreamed of this opportunity… how I’ve longed, in my heart of hearts, for a chance like this, without even knowing it. And before you midwits go and make any assumptions, I’m not speaking about earning a spot in the main event of Final Destination. I have no doubt that’s where everyone else’s interest begins and ends: just another shot at glory to feed their egos. My motives run a little bit deeper than that, but I’ll touch on that at a later date.

This is precisely the sort of ordeal that is oh-so efficient at separating the wheat from the chaff. You see, I’ve come to learn that many of you on Odyssey seem to value words over deeds… though I can hardly blame any of you for that. I suppose when you don’t have any ability, talent, or real virtues to fall back on, talking is all you have left. Braggadocious claims meant to get into your opponents’ heads, psyche them out, make them doubt themselves. It truly is the only weapon that many of you appear to possess.

For a company as highly regarded as the Omega Wrestling Alliance, I have to admit I was shocked to find such a large number of fakers masquerading as legitimate threats. It took me a moment to become adjusted to having such vile insults and wild threats leveled at me, and with nothing to back them up. But in the end, I had to laugh at how ridiculous it was. Did any of you truly believe you’d be able to get into my head?

So foolish. I’ve spent my entire adult life studying the human mind, delving into the mental intricacies and neurosis of people from all walks of life. You don’t get into the head of someone like me… because I’m already in yours, aren’t I?

Oh, you can all try to deny it, try to downplay everything I’ve accomplished in my brief time here, lie to yourself and say I’m not the greatest threat stepping into this Clash… but it would be precisely that. A lie. A tale you’re telling your own nervous psyche to try and allay the very justified fears that come from getting into the ring with someone of my caliber and demeanor.

I could spend hours, even days, breaking down the delusions that seem to run rampant throughout the pink brand’s roster, but I’m a very busy woman. Best to skip the generalities and get into specifics. I’ve given some thought to how best to approach this… there are a lot of individuals here, and a lesser mind might find the sheer scope of such a match an almost insurmountable task to compartmentalize. Fortunately, I’ve come to a quick conclusion on how to best deal with such a thing… which is to say, I’ve decided to start at the very bottom and work my way up.

Hierarchy is so very important in life, don't you agree? Even the animal kingdom understands that much.

So, allow me to step in and crush the hopes of those who have no chance at victory. I’m speaking of the very bottom rung on the ladder, the dregs of Odyssey who serve only to fill out the card, to give the audience plentiful opportunities to refill their drinks at concession, or to relieve themselves in the restrooms. Be they newcomers who’ve yet to prove their worth, or veterans who have no worth to speak of in the first place.

I’m talking about women like Apollonia Cipriano, whose shady connections to the world of organized crime no doubt serve to make her a kindred spirit to Llorona… and likewise, her utter inability to achieve in the world of legitimate competition seems to mirror that cartel thug’s own. Or Jessica Rose, the woman who returned to great fanfare and a free shot at the Sparks Championship, only to prove the weakest link in the match, an easy target for me to single out and pin to retain my prize.

How about Jamie Thotsen, the rookie who’s been unfortunate enough to draw the shortest straw possible: namely, making her in-ring debut in a match full of much, much more talented women. You see, Jamie, I came to this place to do battle with monsters and destroy corrupting influences like Thotyssey… not to dirty my hands dealing with knock-off whores here to drag this sport back into an era of even more gratuitous sexuality. Or Freya Vittoria Cunningham, who tragically shares a last name with the deceased Violet. I’m not generally the superstitious type… my intelligence and education elevate me above such base, unenlightened thoughts – the sort that plague the mind of delusional schizophrenics like that Marie girl, though I’ll speak on her later – but I can’t help but think it’s a bad omen, one that doesn’t bode well for your chances here.

For these four women, only defeat awaits them… and all they can hope to do is push themselves to the very brink in some desperate effort to justify their continued presence on Odyssey’s card. And even that seems like a long shot to me, if I’m being completely honest. I have my sincere doubts any of them last more than a few seconds inside that ring before being eliminated. But such is life in the real world. In a jungle like Odyssey, there is no lip service paid to foolish, far-fetched liberal ideals like equality: some people are simply better than others. Better to accept it than to spend ones’ life fighting against the natural order.

One step up the ladder, we have those who barely rise above the level of perpetual losers. Those who have established themselves as slightly competent, if little else. Those who will never achieve true greatness, but who certainly can’t be lumped in with the trash at the very bottom of the Omega Wrestling Alliance.

I speak of women like Cassie Wu and Aalyah Landerson, two individuals I’ve faced – and soundly defeated – in the past. Two people who, as I’ve mentioned more than once before, only have this job through their family connections. In the latter’s case, the famous luchador and Olympus competitor El Landerson. In the former’s, the very woman who caused untold suffering by being the catalyst for Edward Softly’s mental collapse, Stephanie Matsuda. At the very least, it’s clear that Cassie comes from a prestigious lineage, and some small part of that shows in the ring, whereas Aalyah seems to have inherited her father’s penchant for mediocrity and biting off more than he can chew.

But despite their minor difference in ability, neither of them pose any real threat to those higher up the food chain. They both have their place on the brand, to be sure, but it certainly isn’t as Women’s World Champion, or even the Sparks or Goddesses Champion. Perhaps Cassie might find her niche one day as holder of one of the Tag Team belts: it seems she’s found a similarly middling partner in Dani Fatale, and perhaps with some time they might grow to be something greater than they currently are.

But there’s no room for teamwork in the Clash, Ms. Wu. There can be only one woman standing in the ring at the end of the match. Someone strong enough to stand alone, to weather the storm and come out with their head held high and their eyes set firmly on the main event of Final Destination. And given your string of failures as a singles competitor, it’s obvious to me that you are incapable of making it without a helping hand, or without someone whose strengths are able to shore up your many, many weaknesses.

But speaking of Dani, I suppose now might be a good time to discuss her own chances in this grand brawl. After all, she certainly fits into the lower half of the Odyssey roster, doesn’t she? And while we’re at it, why not lump in Ellie Quinn too? Because let’s not mince words here, they’re both cut from the exact same cloth: a piece likely bought on deep discount at a Hot Topic ‘going out of business’ sale… or perhaps, more accurately, the dumpster behind the mall. Another pair of abject failures – both social and athletic – who I’ve had the rather distinct displeasure of facing in the squared circle during my brief tenure here. I mean, the smell alone was enough to turn my stomach. When was the last time either of you washed that greasy mess that passes for hair? Surely even a pair of uneducated gutter dwellers like yourselves must still be self-aware enough to realize that colorful dye isn’t a valid substitute for shampoo… or maybe not, considering the grease stains you slimeballs left every time I stomped your heads into the mat.

Do you have any idea what a disappointment you two so-called rebels have proven to be? I understand that this business seems to attract those whose mouths try to write checks that they’re unable to cash, but you two are on a level of your very own. So much talk from the faux-punk delegation, so many tough words, mean looks, and shouted, incoherent threats of Kubrickian ultra-violence. But that’s all it turned out to be. Talk, I mean. Empty promises, gone forever unfulfilled.

It’s not a good idea to go around making threats that you can’t follow through on. You’re lucky I’m such a forgiving person, or I might have taken it upon myself to make you pay for disappointing me after all your boasts and bold claims.

Ah, it’s such a shame, honestly. I’ve got to admit something, just between us girls… this whole professional wrestling thing has taken me back to my College days. Back then, it wasn’t the debate club, or the scintillating lectures, or even Yale’s social scene that got my blood pumping and my skin tingling. It was the time spent in that old gym, nostrils filled with the musk of exertion and competition that had permeated the bricks themselves. I’m far from sentimental – you should all know that much by now – but there was something truly magical about that place. Those walls, those old, worn-down mats, soaked with so much blood, sweat and tears that you could taste it in the air.

I suppose this is my way of saying that I’d missed the contest of it all… but it wasn’t just the athleticism that kept me coming back to the school’s wrestling club, or that kept me up late at night training whenever I wasn’t working on my intellectual pursuits. It was the violence. The pain: both inflicting it, and being on the receiving end. I’d almost forgotten how much I loved the thrill of dominating an opponent, and the strange elation that came with having my own face smashed into the floor, or my arm bent back until it nearly snapped, or any of the other wonderful moments that occurred when two capable, competitive women were let off the chain to test their mettle against the other.

So when I heard all the things you two had to say… all the violence you said you would bring down upon me… well, I almost felt like a younger woman again. Ignorant in the ways of the world, wide-eyed, hopeful, and simply looking for a proper challenge. I don’t hesitate to say that the thought of a truly bloody, destructive battle against two supposed masters of chaos made my heart skip a beat or two.

Imagine my... frustration, when I stepped into the ring with you, expecting real warfare only to discover that you were not only merely average, but well below it. You piqued my interest, and you failed to live up to your vows. You didn’t fulfill your side of the bargain, and you served as little more than a speedbump on my journey to the very top of the brand. Why should the Clash be any different? If anything, I’ll be even less patient with either of you, because you’ve disappointed me once already… and I consider that a debt that needs to be paid. In blood.

That’s a promise.

And unlike you, Dani and Ellie, I keep my promises. When have I ever made a claim that I didn’t follow through on? I said I would defeat the Queen of Odyssey, Felix Hartley, and I did what nobody believed possible by doing precisely that. I said I would weather the storm against Tomomi and Brookes, and that’s what I did. And when Llorona upped the stakes and sent three opponents against me instead of merely two, I told the world that they would fare no better… and the Sparks Championship that still rests in my trophy case is evidence that I was a woman of my word, yet again. So don’t expect any mercy, or forgiveness, or quarter from me… not until I’ve extracted my pound of flesh from you both, and taught you the error of making guarantees that are beyond your capabilities.

Now, to wrap things up for now, I’ve saved the best of the worst for last. Devi Krysis. The woman who once held this very same belt, prior to its merging with the Openweight title after her defeat at the hands of Ms. Hartley herself.

All credit where it’s due, Devi, you’re a tenacious one if nothing else. And I do mean ‘nothing’, because your tenacity seems to be your one and only positive characteristic. I can’t rightly recall the last time I’ve seen somewhere slam their head so hard against the proverbial glass ceiling, struggling with every fiber of their being to succeed at something they’ve just not very good at. Oh, you’re plenty good when it comes to sweeping up the trash of the undercard, I won’t claim otherwise. The Landersons and Cunninghams and Roses of the world have good reason to live in fear of Devi Krysis… but preying on the weakest among us doesn’t make you strong.

Facts don’t care about your feelings, girl. You don’t become better simply by wanting it with every ounce of your heart and soul, and taking a look at your record here is all the evidence I need to make such a definitive statement. Your entire existence serves as little more than living proof that dedication and determination – noble qualities they may be – are simply not enough to make up for a lack of raw talent. What’s it like to be looked at as a failure by everyone in that locker room, even the ones who claim to be your friends? What, do you think the likes of the Frontline really view you as their equal? Do you think you taking part in the so-called Great War served a purpose greater than merely being the warm body they needed to make the numbers even? That you contributed anything of note? That you turned the tide of battle at any point?

Don’t make me laugh!

I’m not being harsh with you, Devi, simply realistic. You should try a bit of realism sometime, before you step into a match you have no chance of walking away from. If anything, you’ve been lucky up to this point. Lucky that the opponents you’ve faced didn’t view you as worth the trouble of breaking physically… because they all knew you would never, ever become a real threat. They could let you walk away relatively unharmed, because they were fully aware that you would be incapable of exacting vengeance after the fact.

In the end, you’re all talk. The former Sparks Champion wasted so many words on mourning the woman this belt was made to commemorate, on promising to honor the legacy of that tragic figure. Words, but not the actions needed to defend the title you seemed to hold so dear. You gave it up to Felix so easily, she must have felt like she was taking candy from a baby when she wrenched it from your weak grip. And how she defiled such a prestigious prize, too! With it around her waist, it became little more than a piece of trashy jewelry adorning a loose woman… and it deserved so much better.

You really ought to thank me, Devi, because if it weren’t for me that title would still be devalued by its proximity to some cheap, barren whore like Ms. Hartley. But now, it’s passed to someone who is truly worthy of carrying on the legacy of its name. Now… it’s mine… and with it, in some small way, the memory of Sparks herself. How does that make you feel, Devi? Angry? Upset? Filled with murderous rage, perhaps?

Good. Use that. Because if you don’t harness that fury, this little endeavor is going to end for you like all your past efforts have: in defeat, in disgrace, just another black mark on the record of Odyssey’s hardest working loser. Because that’s all you are in the end. There are no points for trying here. On the pink brand, we do leave children behind, if they prove – as you have – that they just can’t keep up with the rest of the class.

I’ve said enough for now, even though there’s still so many would-be champions left to analyze. But I think I’d best let them make their own statements first… giving them just enough verbal rope to hang themselves with, so to speak.

And I can assure you all… I plan on being the woman to tighten that noose, for each and every one of you.

It’s the least I can do after the warm welcome you’ve given me, isn’t it?”

Jeff X, Alyssa Grace, The Banshee, #BeLikeBea, Remington Ivory Prescott, DT The Ruler and Felix Hartley have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos May 29th 2023, 5:22 am by **Raivo**

(The camera starts with a searing white as it zooms out of an onlooking spotlight. Media swarms before a table where competitors sit, all here to talk about their night. The camera pans to get a shot of a noticeably younger looking Raivo, and where the usually OWA banners would be held, there’s a background with BKC, Bare-Knuckle Champions, stands instead. A flashback as the reports all try to get their voices heard to a young up-and-comer Raivo, coming off a huge loss, looking despondent.)

Reporter 1: Raivo can you please tell us your thoughts coming off that defeat? Many saw you as the favorite heading in and I’m sure your camp is as shocked as you are in regard to the results.

(Raivo doesn’t respond. Vic sits by his side while his father looks on toward Raivo wondering what his son is going to say before Vic steps in.)

Vic: Obviously the results were not what we wanted nor were we going in thinking we were going to lose, the cards just weren’t in our hands tonight.

Reporter 2: Leading up to the bout you had some choice words for your opponent Raivo, how does it feel to not be able to back up your words?

Vic: Raivo is a very proud fighter as much as anyone in this business is. We all talk, and talk is cheap. We know this. Only one fire could be lit after the match, just so happens to have been the opponent’s.

(After this Raivo gets up from the table and storms off the scene. As he makes his way to the back he shoulder checks his father as he just looks at his son walk off. The Scene goes white again.)

Crack

???: Raivo Stop!

(The scene opens back up abruptly to the sound of a vicious crack. One after the other. With flesh hitting flesh and the sound of something cracking coming from those hits. The camera doesn’t focus on the action but focuses to the side of the graphic content.)

???: Raivo stop, he's had enough! He’s done, get off him!

(The scene fades again. Now music fills the air as the scene sets to the Present day. Raivo is in the club celebrating, much to the confusion of his own posse and group. Still bruised from the match on Kingdom, but acting as if it never happened.)

Caleb: I’m confused. Shouldn’t he be like at home or something? Him and DT lost, I thought homie woulda been at homie hitting the bags or something. It’s like he’s different.

Tobin: Look I ain’t gonna say nothing to him. Whatever keeps him up, keeps him up. And sides ain’t too far from how he’d usually act anyway.

(Raivo gets off the dance floor and comes back into the VIP area flocked by others who gravitate towards his energy.)

Raivo: And that’s how you live the good life? A care, a worry? Nah not in this place. You gotta look at clubs as the last oasis of humanity ya know? This shit here, this shit is a den of humanity. Flawed, haphazard, but we all love it anyways because it reminds us that the world may go to shit but it don’t mean we can’t have fun in the meantime HAHA!

(Raivo takes a swig from the champagne that’s been waiting in the ice bucket since their arrival. He starts talking with the people he brought back in before Caleb raises his voice.)

Caleb: Hey man, I know you don’t bring us along to bring down the mood or nothing, but it’s kinda odd?

Raivo: What’s odd my main man? It’s been routine, you know this. We always here every week at some point especially before the big one.

Caleb: Right but It’s odd that we’re doin this after Sunday. Usually you’re in the gym working a sweat, ever since Vic left though you ain’t been in there as much.

Raivo: And you tryna take his spot Caleb? Look Vic left cause he knew I was at my Apex and that as long as I do the training when I am to, he wasn’t needed. But nah I get it. I’ll keep it real, I used to do shit like that until I found it was nothing but useless to me. You gotta understand man. I’m free now.

Caleb: Free?

Raivo: (Sighs) Ya know when you in a position you fucking hate and are battling to get that new one that opened up. It’s sorta like that in the same vein. Being a champ is fun. You get the perks, I’ve already got with the burden of holding up a legacy that don’t deserve to be held up. Those tag belts. Those piece of shit buttons of metal, they've been holding me down for far too long. I ain’t been able to get to the height I need to be at before cause of those god damn titles. I know it, DT knows, and hell OWA knows it as well. They think that cause we lost those titles that that’s gonna be enough to quell what For the Minorities is about. But it ain’t god dammit.

Caleb: I guess I get it. I mean whatever makes you happy.

Raivo: And Raivo is ecstatic because there’s another thing to this that makes it so hilarious. Because when people think of the tag teams they think of all the people who hold it right?

Caleb: Uhhh

Raivo: Right, so we in that conversation no matter what people think. And it’s funnier because what we’ve done is also in they minds. For the Minorities weren’t just title contenders and title holders. Nah we smashed a record held by a team that’s been scrutinized since. And it’s been a fresh breath of air, but not the one people thought. Because FTM, we hold that record, we gonna be recognized time immemorial. Cause ain’t no other team gonna be able to touch that record. And it’s funnier for me because those who hated us, you know why they hated us?

(Before Caleb could answer, Raivo gets in his face.)

Raivo: Because we’ve tainted their precious titles. In an organization of people who call us spear-chuckers, and melon-humpers, they title of camaraderie, their title of unity has been tainted by a couple of brothas who been on the up and up since they stepped in this building. And they gonna have to contend with that. No matter who holds that title, unless they beat our records, they gonna be second to us always. Even Jeff X and Sabertooth, two people that others thought was gonna be forever champs fell to us, an accomplishment that ain’t no one been able to do. That legacy, became something after we lost the title because of all the work we put into that bitch. And now those two assholes know that. Those two white supremacists know that the legacy ain’t even gonna be theirs until they beat our record. Forever “marred” by For the Minorities (Raivo cackles).

Raivo: But listen it ain’t time for all that cause now we gotta continue celebrating. Celebrating the fact that now the titles that people didn’t want us to have will forever be known as the title For the Minorities saved.

(Raivo raises a glass as everyone raises their in a cheer, and the camera fades to the next morning. Raivo, after fighting off a hangover, is in the gym. Working on his strikes, and his kicks. He’s got a smile on his face, unlike the ones he usually wears whenever he’s on camera or in a match. He’s just heard the news.)

Raivo: And just like one would predict, they could not get enough of me. I know Oasis is only doing this because he doesn’t want Stark as champion any longer so he’ll do what he can to ensure that doesn’t happen. But all that hate he got, he must have forgot he left a bunch of FTM members in the Clash. I mean when you’re desperate you tend to overlook a lot and I’m sure in between getting his dick sucked by Thotyssey and Frontline simultaneously, he just wasn’t sure of what to do. But hey I get it. You want something fresh, you want someone to finally take the reigns, and boy let me tell you. I am that person. I am that person who is going to take that title and give it the necessary home it needs. Oasis, we’ve never seen eye to eye, but I’m going to need you to know this one thing. This is what is best for business. Because if it weren’t for the fact that me and DT were able to elevate the tag titles they are now, then I could understand your apprehension. But we did the impossible and made that sumbitch worth something now. And now Darkie and Laz are gonna I guess use it for coasters now, or pawn it off. I don’t know what they’re going to do with it and I quite honestly could give less of a shit. Because now my focus is where it should have been for the past few months, and that’s the OWA World Championship. Oh such a title that has been longing to be on the waist of someone Authentic. Someone who could give it the life it deserves. I mean either me or DT right. Two people who have been scratching, clawing for just a chance, that you people thought to see fit to put us against each other because you wanted your own little black on black violence tab checked for that night. But hell it didn’t work, if anything it showed us how much you truly fear For the Minorities. And I don’t know why you wouldn’t. Because look at us. We’ve been dominating every chance we get, and we keep finding our ways into crevices you thought blocked off. Not because we know how to but because the powers at be always want us to be present and there.

Raivo: And no I ain’t talkin bout Kenny, Oasis, or any of those has-beens who sit so in the cushy offices joints. Oh then Raivo who are you talking about? You gonna need to know this. You ever have faith. Nah nah listen to me before you go all Raivo found god schtick. Whether you believe in God, a higher being, whatever you want to call it, you gotta have faith in something. And that something for me is the mere fact that destiny is quite literally calling me to be the person who takes these titles to new heights. And I know, y’all just chalking this up to another one of “Raivo’s delusions” but you gonna need to listen to when Raivo speaks because Raivo a prophet. A prophet for the inevitable. You know that sinking feeling you have when you know something is about to go wrong. That thing that makes your gut twist and turn and makes you so worried about the next few minutes? You know that twinge of aches before something you thought wouldn’t happen happens? That twinge, that warning is always there. When do you think it’s there? When do you feel it the most? If you’ve answered, when FTM has a match, you’d be correct. Hell you’d be correct if you said when DT has a match, when Maggall has a match, when Raivo has a match. Any of those would have been correct because that’s our calling card. That twist of your stomach, that feeling you hate because you know nothing good follows it. That’s the inevitable, that’s our calling card and it has been for so long. I’ve noticed it whenever I talk with someone who don’t got their head up they asses but they notice it every time. People want to have hope, people want to know their heroes are winning, but when they are in that ring with us, that twinge, it comes. Creeping every slowly, ever present. It starts to be a nuisance for a bit something you can ignore, but the more you watch and the more you take it the more you begin to realize that twinge is getting worse and worse until you can’t stomach it anymore. And you try and figure the reason why. And then you realize as soon as you hear that three and then you here the DING DING DING. It leaves. Because what had happened has come to past and all you can do to accredit your discomfort is the fact that For the Minorities has won. For the Minorites has won and will win. And you’ll be feeling that twinge of discomfort as we continue to march into Clash. Because it will be more and more apparent. Whatever number one of us enters in, it will build. If we’re both there it will become worse. And as the clock ticks ever so closely to the end, you’ll begin to feel that tightness until boom it’s gone. You can focus, and then you look in that ring and you see, yep you guessed it For the Minorities has won.

Raivo: Oh but Raivo, will you be saying that if DT won? Would you be saying that if anyone else in For the Minorities won? Yes you god damn heathen why wouldn’t I. I’ll be honest it may take a bit if Maggall won for it to hit me quickly, but I’d still cheer for the man, because when one of us wins, we all win. Because it ain’t about the individual success anymore. It’s about what we gonna do to the structure of OWA. We’ve already put our blood into the title scene. The Spartan championship ain’t mean a damn thing since I was the champ, hell I don’t even remember the last time it was up for a defense. The Outlaw title keeps changing, no stability, not since DT lost it and actually brought it to the prestige that people are fighting for it. Diantha has such a coveted title that people try and kill her because they know she’ll beat their ass with no fucking hesitation. And well those tag titles, I’ve already said my piece, no matter how you look at it, whether you wanna call it tainted or lesser, you’ll always think of For the Minorities. Because that’s what For the Minorities is, we are inevitable. Our structure, our plans, everything we’ve done so far has had a purpose and even in defeat we continue to grow. People want to dismiss us. People want to say we’re not up to snuff anymore. People want to say that but they’re just asking to misrepresent what we do. They’re just asking to put us in the light as villains, when we’re globetrotter, worldshakers. We don’t bend and we’ll never bend our fucking knee to these sons of bitches ever again.

(Raivo stops his sparring with his punching bag. He takes a sip of his water and takes a small breath. The voice “Raivo Stop” echoes in his head and he shakes it off. He looks back at the cage he used to spar in back at his pop’s gym, now an installation in his gym for any use he sees fit. And there is a faint blood mark.)

Raivo: The last time I respected anyone not of my own accord was my pops. But that was cause I thought he knew what was best for me. At the time, being molded from a promising athlete into a ruthless son of a bitch was his only goal. And it worked. Worked so well he could look me in the face anymore. Pops and I went our separate ways, but I know every time he sees my face I know he knows that he was always wrong. And at the Clash, I can show everyone else they’re wrong. For everything they’ve said about For the Minorities, for every transgression they’ve had against us, against DT, against Diantha, Maggall, and Gio. Everything they thought would happen should we get pressed, should we lose, should we taste defeat, I want them to know that they’re wrong. Because we still stand here. Above all those who want us dead, above all those who think they’re better, who thought that after all was said and done we’d slink back our cave, I want them to know they were wrong. Because that Clash, I can guarantee will shake the foundations of where OWA is at in it’s current period. People used to fight just for the chance to challenge for a title. They fought like hell to make sure that when they got to the end of the Clash, they were the ones with their hands raised high as the winner. Now there is the chance to become the champion to start your reign in such a historic fashion. I don’t know anyone in the back who ain’t coming up with battle plans, who is thinking of what exactly need to happen in order for them to win. The bad thing is they’re all planning to hard, they’re all acting as if they know what exactly will happen and because of that they are going to fall to their own fucking folly. Their own hubris as people who seek to gain respect and know no boundaries in which to earn that said respect from so many others. And it’s so funny, it’s so hilarious that when it all crumbles and I get to see it blow up in their face that they’ll think how it could have ended up like this. And that’s cause you decide to fight against destiny, against the winds of change that OWA is trying to blow so it can set it’s course to brighter pastures. That inevitability is working against you and showing you that you are no longer in control of your future. What For the Minorities have been doing in the past few months has not just been instilling dominance in OWA, but forcing our will to change the course of OWA. We know what we had to do and we did it, and now destiny bends to our whim, our control. Whether it’s me or DT that comes out on top FTM has been the conductor for so long. But make no mistake when I win, I’m uprooting everything around me. All these assholes, all these idiots and morons who go in with a plan thinking it will go off without a hitch, only do so because they think they can change the inevitable. Stark is not inevitable, Frontline is not inevitable, after seeing Jason Long after so long, I can’t even say death in inevitable. But For the Minorities will also be at the finish line, just waiting for all of you to catch up. Not so you can get a fair chance, no, so you can see the results as they happen in front of you. So you can see that FOR THE MINORITIES has won.

(Raivo finishes off his water bottle. Cleans himself off camera and gets ready to take on the day.)

Raivo: The Clash is going to be a showcase of one thing and one thing only and that’s desperation. The Build-up to it has been as such. You saw that desperation when Oasis came out with Rosso and the others just to fight off Stark and his goons. You saw that desperation when Stark was declared the winner at the end of the night. You saw that desperation just this past sunday when all the competitors came out to try and make their intentions known. You saw it all in display. But you know what you didn’t see? You didn’t see the true architects working in the back. Rubbing their hands at everything going smoothly at everything blowing up when it needed to blow up. FTM may have lost the titles, but our drive has never been more full. And we’ll continue as planned because we know the endgame is just that, the end. The end of what OWA stands for now, and the beginning of what For the Minorities will make it. It will be glorious and you will all be there to witness it. You will all be there to see what For the Minorities is made of. You will all be there to see the display DT is for sure to put on. You will be there to see the Authentic at work. And you will wonder what else is in store, but that would be a spoiler. Just know this, the Clash is just the start. And I don’t care who I need to throw over the top to ensure that it all comes to past. Because we got a bunch of heavy hitters. Arata, Frontline, Stark, Chad, and others they all have something in this race, but they all want it for their own stupid ass gains. They don’t have the gumption, they just want to stop one man. I want to change the landscape, I want to carve my destiny into these fucking strands of fate, I want to make destiny my bitch and only give me the outcomes that need to happen. And I am going to make it all happen at Clash. I want this more than anything and god help those who are going to stop me. They can laugh, they can say I bark more than I bite, but god dammit that just means they ain’t learn their lesson yet. I don’t say things to say them, I say them to speak them into the world and prophesy over my eventual victory. A victory that I’ve worked my god damn life toward. A victory that will take everything you hold dear. A victory that will bring that hope into a new light not as despair, but as enlightenment. Because when Raivo talks, you listen, and when you listen, you know Raivo speaks the truth. Raivo has never led you astray so why would Raivo do so now? The Clash is the one thing Raivo needs to make you understand that you ain’t been playing the game you set out, you’ve been playing to Raivo’s whims, to what For the Minorities has set. We just let you believe you had it all so we can come in and take it all away from you. You want the title? You want to be historic? You want to ensure your name is written in history books? Well you gonna have to get in Ravio’s good grace. You gonna have to step up to For the Minorities because we hold the book now, and we gonna keep writing what we been writing in there up until we get what we want.

(Raivo moves to the windows within his gym and looks over the city. His reflection showing a wicked smile as it reflects over the cityscape like he’s a wicked god.)

Raivo: For the Minorities are the ones who hold destiny in our grips, and to those who want a piece of it, you’re going to have to try harder than you’ve been doing in the past few months to get rid of us. Because the worst has happened, you’ve lost and you don’t even know it yet. You don’t know the scale of which you are fucked and the fact you all blindly walk and go through life wallowing in ignorance just goes to show me that it’s best to let these fucking cows live until the slaughter. At the Clash, OWA is going to wish Stark was still the champion, because when FTM grabs ahold of that title, we ain’t letting go. We hold the cards, it’s just time you acknowledged it. Because the quicker you do, the quicker that feeling in your gut goes away. Acknowledge the inevitable, because it for sure isn’t going to give a flying shit about you when the time comes.

Scott Oasis, Jeff X, Alyssa Grace, Remington Ivory Prescott, "Killer Bee", DT The Ruler and Chad Ecclestone have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos May 28th 2023, 9:31 pm by **Chad Ecclestone**

SEASON FIVE - EPISODE TWELVE
CHADMAN BEGINS

The moon hangs high over Omega City, its buttery, yellow light just strong enough to shine through the fog and pollution that smothers the crime-ridden, dilapidated metropolis. A once-great city, fallen to disrepair, inequality, and senseless violence. A place torn apart by various criminal factions, held together by the Herculean efforts of the few remaining good men who dwell within its borders.

One such man stands on the rooftop of the Omega City Police Department on this rainy evening. Commissioner Scott Oasis (played by Ving Rhames with a white substance similar to chalk smeared on his face and hands) stands beside his most trusted subordinate, Lieutenant Kenny Drake (Tom Hardy), who is in the process of fiddling with a large machine. He swears under his breath, struggling with the controls before slamming his fist onto the metal cover like the Fonz. Perhaps predictably, it’s just what the doctor ordered, and the device hums to life, illuminating the sky above with a massive spotlight: in the middle of it, the silhouetted square jaw and chiseled cheekbones of the gigachad.

An SOS beacon. The Chad Symbol, meant to call for aid from the city’s heroic vigilante… and like magic, the Chadman appears almost immediately, making his presence known with a harsh whisper as he steps out of the shadows behind Lieutenant Drake.

“You called, Commissioner?”

“Jesus, Chadman, you’ve got to stop sneaking up on people like that,” shouts Lieutenant Drake, practically jumping out of his shoes in surprise.

“Take it easy, Lieutenant. We’re the ones here to ask for help. We’re just lucky he decided to show up. I’d heard you were on your way out, Chadman. One foot in retirement, they said.”

Now standing fully revealed in the dim light of evening, it’s obvious that the whole Chadman costume is a total rip-off of a certain DC hero, altered just enough to prevent any lawsuits from them or Warner Brothers.

“You should know me better than that, Oasis. This city is mine to protect, and the people need a hero. Since your own men have proven incapable of defending it,” growls Chadman, looking pointedly at Kenny as he does, “It’s up to me to do what nobody else can.”

“So you’ll help?”

“I’ll help. But not because you’re asking. Because the people of this city, as dirty, unwashed, and stupid as they are, deserve a real hero. Not clowns like Noah Krieger or Jeff X. It’s my time now, and when I’m done beating Stark’s ass and restoring order to Omega City, you’re going to owe me. Big time.”

Without another word, the Chadman takes a running leap off the edge of the roof and disappears, leaving the two officers standing silently in the rain until Lieutenant Drake opens his mouth.

“Are you sure about this, Commissioner?"

“I hate that cocksucker as much as you do, if not more… but he’s the best chance we’ve got, Lieutenant.”

“Then may God have mercy on our souls.”

“No doubt. Now let’s get drunk and play grab-ass with the boys downstairs.”

“About damn time, boss!”

“So, it’s come down to this, huh? The fate of the Omega Wrestling Alliance hinges on this moment, on this match. Do the pawns assembled by Scott Oasis manage to wrest control of his company from the SSW invader, or does the renegade Stark cement himself as the top dog in this sport for all time? Dark days for professional wrestling fans, there’s no doubt about it, because it’s clear the Cracker Champion has about as much respect for this whole house of cards as I do… which is to say, not much at all.

And who can blame him? There’s so little to respect in this little circus act that, truth be told, I find myself nodding my head in agreement at Stark’s verbal evisceration of OWA more often than not. Maybe wrestling was something noble, once upon a time, but those days are long, long gone. Hell, the man said it best himself before the company’s fifth anniversary: Scott Oasis is more interested in trotting out the same old washed-up bitches and bastards time and time again, like he’s actively trying to bore the fans to death, while the real talent sits in the locker room, under-utilized and constantly disrespected.

I’m talking about losers like Aria Jaxon. Kenny Drake. Jeff X and Michael Bishop. The idols of yesteryear, long past their expiration date but still forcing their way into main event after main event, hogging the title scene and preventing the next generation from spreading their wings. And look what happened when he set these bums up against a force of nature like Stark. They failed. Just like anyone with a lick of common sense could have predicted. If you want proof that Oasis has no clue what the fuck he’s doing, you only need to look so far as the man’s genuine shock when his old-timers failed in their task. As if it could’ve gone any other way.

What a joke.

You know, I had half a mind to phone this whole thing in… or even to throw my lot in with the big man at the head of the table. Wouldn’t that be something? I’d have paid good money to see the looks on the out-of-touch management’s faces when I rushed the ring and started working with Stark, instead of against him. It’s only the words spoken to me by my beloved second wife Chastity that changed my mind.

She asked me why I would, in a million fucking years, be content to playing second-fiddle to anyone. Why a man of my talents, my prestige, my reputation, would ever want to be cast in a supporting role. Hell, I’ve turned down movie contracts worth millions of dollars just because they refused to give me the leading role. Only one name belongs at the top of that marquee: Chad Ecclestone. Not Stark. Not Jason Long. Not Arata Asakura or any of the other lame fucks I’ll be stepping into that ring with.

I deserve that gold. Me. Nobody else. And you know what? Let’s put aside my ego, inflated or not, for just a few seconds. Chad Ecclestone as World Champion is what the fans deserve. And in the end, isn’t that what it’s all about? I’m for the people, baby. I live to entertain. To help people forget about their own shitty lives and dream that they too could, one day, maybe, make it big like I have.

So, I owe it to them, to my wife and, above all else, to myself, to give this thing everything I’ve got. And you’d best believe that you’re about to see a Chad Ecclestone you’ve never witnessed before: determined, focused, out for blood and glory… this time, I’m not playing games. I’m not here to make the industry look like the joke it is. Not now. Not with this much on the line. You’re about to see just how serious I can be, when a prize truly worthy of my attention and effort is up for grabs.”

The Ruler’s Lounge. Home of arguably the most powerful crime boss/businessman in Omega City, Donovan T, and his gang of hoodlums who rule their neighborhood with an iron fist. It’s Chadman’s first stop of what promises to be a very, very long night. Perhaps the longest he’s ever experienced.

But there’s no time for him to dwell on the insurmountable tasks that rest on the path ahead. No sooner has he stepped through the lounge’s gold-trimmed double doors and into the cavernous, luxuriously-appointed lair than he’s accosted by DT’s infamous second-in-command.

“Aw HELL no, I KNOW this unseasoned, cracker-ass white boy ain’t walk into the crib with his goddamn shoes on! This some disrespectful shit!”

Chadman’s eyes snap towards the source of the shouting, his body falling into a defensive posture as he sees Raivo (Dalauan ‘LowTierGod’ Sparrow) rushing towards him, looking ready to throw hands. But before the seemingly-inevitable fight can begin…

“Raivo. Enough,” comes the booming voice of the man who really runs the show in this quarter of Omega City. In the near-distance, DT the Ruler (Terry Crews) sits behind a large table carved out of pure ebony.

“You for real, DT? We letting these gentrifying, colonial motherfuckers walk into our place of business like this? This mayo monster didn’t even have the common courtesy to ring us up before he busts in like he own the place? Shiiiiiiiiiiiit…”

“I said ‘enough’. Aren’t you the least bit curious why the Chadman has come to visit us on this otherwise uneventful evening? I think we owe it to a man of his status to listen, don’t you?” he asks Raivo, who only grumbles in response and steps away from Chad. DT nods slightly, and turns his attention back to the caped crusader, “You have my attention. I do hope you’re not here simply to waste my time.”

“Stark. He’s as much a threat to you as he is to those pigs back at OCPD headquarters and the fat cats in city hall. You know he won’t stop until he’s taken this entire city for himself… and that includes everything you’ve fought so hard to make your own. I need to know where he is… we both know I’m the only chance Omega City has at getting rid of him before it’s too late!”

DT’s response? He laughs, a deep, booming sound that seems to rise up from the cursed soil of Omega City itself.

“And why should we help you, white devil? After everything your people have done to mine, tell me why I shouldn’t let you fail in your mission. Believe me when I tell you that I don’t fear Stark. If he dares to come to this hood, he won’t be leaving unless I allow it, I promise you that much. Now go, before I force you out myself. I would hate to treat a guest so harshly, even an uninvited one. Manners maketh the man, after all.”

“Why should you help me? I’m glad you asked, DT,” says Chadman confidently, not missing a beat as he strides towards the table, shoulders past Raivo, produces an envelope from a pouch hanging off his utility belt and slaps it down in front of the Ruler, “Something given to me by a senior member of the Black Delegation on a rainy night in Compton, many years ago. Call it a pass, to prove that I’m no enemy to you and yours.”

“A pass? This honkey thinks he’s about to start dropping bombs in the crib? You got another thing coming, Chadboy!” shouts Raivo in disbelief, sounding more than a little bit worried by the prospect.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! You’ve got the wrong idea, fellas, it’s not that kind of pass! Just open it and see for yourself,” says Chadman, quick to deny Raivo’s initial assumption about the nature of the envelope’s contents.

DT opens it, unfolding the paper within and staring at it intently for seconds that stretch into minutes. After some time spent studying the item, he smirks and places the paper down onto the table, gesturing for Raivo to come and look at it.

“So, Chadman, it seems you weren’t lying,” he says, as his lackey looks over his shoulder at the item in question.

“How in the hell… I don’t believe it!” shouts Raivo. The camera zooms in to the writing on the rather official-looking document. It reads:

This Pass Grants Full Access and Permissions to One (1) White Chad
Valid at ALL Cookouts
Signed,
-Snoop Dogg.

“Well played, Chadman, well played,” says DT respectfully, as Raivo stumbles away, defeated and in disbelief, “It seems we’ve underestimated your game.”

“There’s no time for formalities. I need to know where I can find Stark, before it’s too late!”

“Unfortunately I don’t have that information. He’s been moving in secrecy ever since he began his mission to seize control of Omega City… but I do know who would be able to help you. A man currently held by the very same OCPD who enlisted your help in this quest. The maverick himself, Jason Long.”

“Oh god, not that stupid Irish cunt again…” grumbles Chad, rubbing the bridge of his nose like he’s suddenly nursing the mother of all headaches.

“Yes. THAT stupid Irish cunt.”

“Let me get a couple of things off my chest. I’m not like all these other whites infesting this company with their lame shoes and corny as hell catchphrases. I’m hip! I’m with it! I season my food! Or at least my personal chef Danee’qua does, and I’m the one who signs her paychecks, so it’s pretty much the same thing isn’t it?

Now that we’ve got that out of the way, let me take it even further by stating, unequivocally and honestly, that I’m an ally of the POC cause! DT and Raivo, if you’ve listened to any of the statements I’ve made in my time here you’ll know that I’ve always supported your crusade for justice in this piece of shit, hypocritical, nepotistic company. I too know the sting of discrimination. I too know what it’s like to be overlooked by Scott Oasis’ corrupt ass, what it’s like to have my talent ignored and my rightful spot in the Kingdom main event taken by some undeserving bum, all because they gave the boss a reach-around in the locker room showers.

So I get it, brothers, I really do. You’re mad. No, more than that, you’re righteously pissed. And you have every right to be. I can empathize with the plight faced by you and your community, because I know what it feels like to be an innocent victim of a racist agenda, too! I am, after all, a card-carrying member of the most hated, downtrodden group in America: a straight, white, male actor. In this era of diversity casting, you’ve got no idea how hard I’ve had to struggle to keep my spot in Hollywood. Shit’s hard, fam, believe me!

I’ll be real with you ‘homies’, I’m not your enemy here. I’m not an ‘opp’, whatever the hell that means, and you don’t need to ‘spin the block’ on me or ‘pull up to my crib’ or ‘flock’ me or anything like that. I’m a fan of yours! I’ve been cheering for you every step of the way! Okay, maybe not that weird bitch Diantha or that fat fuck Maggall, but you two absolutely have that star factor that only a rare, select few have been gifted. And ‘that’s facts’.

But that’s where I come across a bit of a dilemma. Because under normal circumstances, I would be happy for either of you to come out of this Clash with the OWAC slung over your shoulder… if only I weren’t personally involved. You see, I’ve got to admit something that I’d really rather not… but we’re being honest here today, so everyone deserves to know the truth. My second loss to Noah Krieger had me ‘in my feels’, so to speak.

And since I’m not mincing words, let me go even further and say something that I doubt either one of you want to hear: you guys just don’t work as a team, despite your immense, historic reign as tag champions. Okay, okay, maybe I should qualify that statement a bit. DT, you’re great. One of the best to ever do it, maybe. Hell, let’s just come right out and say it: with any metric you want to measure ability by, you’re Him… and without Raivo at your side, leeching your heat and dragging you down to his level, I feel completely confident in saying that you would win this match. That’s the problem, though, isn’t it? Not just with you, with your people in general. You’re too slow to point out the troublemakers, the loudmouths, the thugs and rulebreakers among your ranks. You want to defend all your kinfolk, and it’s a noble thing, it really is… but it comes at a cost, my man.

What is that cost exactly? It’s never reaching your full potential as an upstanding, honest member of the community. You’re a shrewd businessman, DT, maybe the smartest person in this entire company… so I’m surprised you haven’t come to this conclusion on your own. Raivo is slowing you down, big guy. The only way you make it out of this thing as the winner is by letting go of his arm and letting him sink or swim on his own. Are you prepared to do that? You prepared to leave one of your own people behind, and to hell with what Malcolm X, MLK or Tupac would think about it?

I don’t think you’ve got it in you… and that’s not something to be ashamed of, because it’s clear that behind your strong, silent act, you really love that dude. Like he was your mentally-handicapped little brother that you’ve dedicated your life to looking out for, or something along those lines. And maybe that’s what real strength is: putting aside your own goals, your own desires, your own success, all to help along someone slower, weaker, and dumber than yourself.

Hell, I know I couldn’t do it! So kudos. But let me tell you that it’s going to cost you this whole match, buddy. So think it over, and decide for yourself just how much you’re willing to sacrifice For The Minorities.

Oh, and Raivo… listen, bro, ‘real recognize real’. You might be the best scumbag in this whole industry, and I respect the hell out of it. That shit you pulled at Michael Bishop’s funeral was some all-time fuckery, and I loved every second of it. ‘Real shit’, as you might say. The thing is, that doesn’t mean I’m about to put aside my own birthright as top champion in OWA. Because this is America, my guy… and I don’t want to be ‘caught slippin’.

But hey, enough talk, am I right? Let's see if you're really 'built different' when you step into the ring with a 'real one', 'homeboy'.”

Back on the streets of Omega City, Chadman makes his way back towards OCPD Headquarters, armed with the knowledge that Jason Long might possess the location of the dastardly villain Stark. As he grapples from ledge to ledge, a smell wafts up from street-level to tickle the inside of his nostrils. He recognizes it immediately.

MSG. Soy Sauce. Rice Noodles and Fish Heads. To put it plainly, some damn fine food.

His mouth starts watering immediately, and he pauses on a stone gargoyle to pull out his Chad-noculars, locating the source of the delectable scent in a matter of seconds and gliding through the air to land in front of a pop-up food stand on a filthy, debris-filled corner in Omega City’s Asiatown district.

“Chow Mein, Lo Mein, one dollar!” shouts the man standing behind the register of the makeshift eatery. Arata Asakura (Jackie Chan) narrows his eyes even more than they already were at the sudden arrival of the well-known hero Chadman. “Ah, honorable gaijin! Please, you pay, I feed, you happy man, me promise!”

“Uhhh… let me get…” mumbles Chadman as he squints to read the weird Oriental characters on the menu, “I’ll take the two horizontal lines with a dot above them, the squiggly thing with a backslash, and… hey wait a minute, don’t I know you? You’re that racist terroristic fuck Arata Asakura, aren’t you?”

“No, no, no… well, sort of. I am Arata, but not that Arata. You see, there exist many, many different realities… a universe for every iteration of every decision… the Arata you know was an evil man, but I came from another world to–”

“I don’t have time for this lame shit right now, Hop Sing! If I wanted a boring ass lecture on the multiverse I’d watch that Dr. Strange sequel! Now, I’ve got some business to take care of, but I’ll be back… and you’d better believe I’ll be coming with the City’s Health Department to get this rat-hole shut down!”

With that warning, the Chadman launches his grappling hook up to an adjacent roof, propelling himself into the air and away from this entire weird, ridiculous explanation that Arata seems poised to offer him.

“Stupid round-eye…” mumbles Arata as he watches the flying shape of the Chadman recede into the distance.

“Listen up, because I’m only going to say this once, Arata. I. Don’t. Care.

I couldn’t give a fuck whether you’re the Arata Asakura that killed countless civilians, or the Arata Asakura that helps old ladies cross the road during your free time. Shit, I don’t even care if you’re the Arata Asakura that has ten DVD copies of every single one of my films, and donates to the Ecclestone Fund for a Brighter Future for the Retarded Kids. Your reign of terror comes to an end, Golden Dawn is in the dirt and being ran by some dumb bitch on Odyssey, and you think you can just reinvent yourself as a hero? Bullshit to that, I say. The fact is, you look just like the genocidal, power-hungry murderer everyone has come to know and fear for years.

And I don’t just mean that you’re both Chinese, or Japanese, or whatever. I mean you’re literally the same guy! Now, you can feed the idiots in the audience and the locker room whatever line you want about ‘multiverse this, multiverse that’, but I’m not buying it, okay? There’s some stains that just don’t wash out, and that’s not even a joke about Chinese Laundromats, either. That’s the hard, naked truth that you refuse to face: one Arata is as good, or as evil, as the next. You’ve killed people, punk. Even I, in my endless arrogance and lust for glory and applause, wouldn’t sink to that level, you hateful, racist fuck.

So spare me the bullshit, alright? I’m just not buying it, no matter how many apologies you want to make for the past behavior of your other self. It’s just too confusing for me to keep track of, you know?

I’m not in this to exact vengeance on behalf of the global community, and I honestly couldn’t care less about you facing justice for your countless crimes against humanity. My interest in you begins and ends with one thing: throwing your goofy ass over the top rope, to get one step closer to my rightful spot as the Clash winner. Now, I’m sure you’re patting yourself on the back for winning that Clash showcase and getting to pick your entry spot… but I’ve got to wonder why you were dumb enough to pick number one?

I don’t doubt you’re arrogant and ignorant enough to think that’ll make your victory all the sweeter, lasting the entirety of the battle to come out as Champion at the end of it. Oh, how they’ll celebrate in Shanghai, or Tokyo, or Seoul, or wherever, to see you hold that belt above your head, am I right? There’s just one problem, pal: your victory isn’t as inevitable as your multiverse-muddled mind seems to think it is.

That’s hubris, buddy. The downfall of every would-be tyrant, conqueror, and upjumped hero since time immemorial. I’ve seen it a million times in my industry, some Hollywood upstart gets it in their head that they’re the next big thing, the mayor of Tinseltown, bound to live forever with their name immortalized in the stars on the Walk of Fame.

Well, sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but you’re not that man. You’re not Marlon Brando. You’re not Al Pacino. And you sure as fuck aren’t Chad Ecclestone. So take a seat, little man, and let a real professional handle it, okay?”

TO BE CONTINUED.

Scott Oasis, Jeff X, Alyssa Grace, The Banshee, Darkane, Remington Ivory Prescott, Raivo and have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos May 28th 2023, 8:32 pm by **DT The Ruler**

“How are you even alive right now?”

(At an unknown location, the cameraman shows somewhat close shots of a Black female nurse attending to a patient. At the moment, she was shown preparing a cup of medications and checking to make sure the water pitcher and glass were both filled to the brim. Soon, another voice was heard)

DT The Ruler: (off-camera) A man with true determination and will has the ability to summon strength from within many may not know exists. You underestimate the strength of a Black Man, especially, if you have to ask that question.

Nurse: Well I don’t underestimate how much you were bleeding. Your wounds were horrible, sir. Probably forgot that because you passed out.

DT The Ruler: Eh, I could probably match last year’s income getting a dollar for every time I was close to death this year. And it’s still May.

(As DT The Ruler spoke, the normal housekeeper appeared in the room, wheeling a cart with a full meal ready for DT The Ruler. She moved everything to a tray next to the bed)

Housekeeper: You keep going out there the way you did, you may end up rich and in a grave.

DT The Ruler: Every time I step in the ring, the possibility is always there. Risks are part of life, even with my finances. You think the Stock Market is safe? My business endeavors aren’t all foolproof, either, but I take steps to make sure they look that way.

Nurse: Well, you got people asking about you over the past few days. Your employees, your family members: everyone been asking if you’re alright. Even my children are wondering if you survived that fight at Kingdom or not, but I kept silent like you wanted me to.

DT The Ruler: Good. They’ll get an update when I leave here.

(As the housekeeper and the nurse were in the room, a male doctor soon followed, entering with paperwork in hand and a stethoscope around his neck. He fixed his glasses over his eyes and adjusted his coat before speaking)

Doctor: We did everything as you said to rush your recovery. I think you should take another few days to rest, and you should be more than good to compete.

DT The Ruler: How’s Raivo?

Doctor: According to the medics attending to him, he’s recovering excellently. Surprisingly, you both are, as the experiences you’ve had over the past few months should leave you sidelined for a long while.

DT The Ruler: Good. We can’t be Load Managing. We have competitions coming up, and I refuse to allow myself, especially, to miss them due to injury. (DT The Ruler was handed a small cup with a couple of pills inside. He looked at the nurse and grimaced as she urged him to also drink some water as he took the medications) I rather not be taking this shit for too long.

Housekeeper: You should take it for now, sir, so you can get back to doing what you need to do. You can’t just be running around on adrenaline.

DT The Ruler: (sarcastically) Yes, mother.

Doctor: You should eat some food before you take your medicine as well.

DT The Ruler: Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. I’ll be fine, good sir. (DT The Ruler took down all six of the pills and drank half a glass of water but still is not fully shown on camera) I need to move around; I can’t just sit here all day. It feels stuffy in here.

(A few minutes later, DT The Ruler was shown in a white robe and slippers, walking outside to a spacious and well-kept yard area of the facility he was recuperating in. In that area near a few trees was an unblemished bench, where he decided to sit down to the left side of and take a deep breath)

We lost.

I’m not proud of it. I hate it. I despise it. Despite the circumstances of that loss, myself and Mr. Raivo are no longer the OWA Tag Team Champions. Close to overthrowing history in damn near every regard when it came to those titles, having already planted our foot within the pantheon of other Tag Teams that made an impact, myself and Mr. Raivo were 4^th and inches from declaring ourselves the absolute de facto standard of what a cohesive and connected team looks like, a team with a mission that ends in absolute greatness. And though we can be seen as an example, it is better to be the highest of the high when it comes to any Champion. The goal should always be to beat the past standards, or else what’s the point? Greatness may be measured in multiple values, but all should desire to transcend that.

Then again... who says that was the end of the line for us?

We’re not done.

At all.

(DT The Ruler leaned back a bit in the chair and closed his eyes Sitting alone, taking a deep breath of the fresh air around him, he appeared to be gathering his thoughts, brainstorming ways to gather his thoughts. Out of the blue and unexpectedly, he heard a familiar voice: his own)

????: Who would’ve thought I’d grow up to look like you in the future...

(DT The Ruler appeared to have quickly opened his eyes, hearing a familiar and unusually arrogant tone walking up to him, and it was a familiar person, his past self from when he debuted in a mainstream Professional Wrestling organization, wearing a fitted cap tilted to the side and what looked to be like the classic Sean Jean type of velour jumpsuit)

DT The Ruler: Why are you here, how are you here, and how do you have a mic in hand?

“Mr. Opinion” Donovan T: (he shrugged) I guess since we don’t say “hi” anymore, let me ask: Why are YOU here and not in a gym getting ready for the next match? And stop trying to put logic to stuff. You did some Kraven the Hunter shit at Kingdom against a tiger and LIVED.

DT The Ruler: *sighs* Fair enough. But still: why are you here? I thought I moved on from you and from braids with beads at the tips.

Mr. Opinion: You know exactly why I’m here.

DT The Ruler: Because the drugs are working?

Mr. Opinion: Close, but not really. (“Mr. Opinion” Donovan T sat down on the bench, spaced away from DT The Ruler) I’m here for same reason you stepped out of the house instead of just laying down in your adjustable bed: you can’t stand to stay still for long; it’s not in you. Your DNA craves to be in the thick of the chaos. It never was. I know that well. It’s what landed you in jail before...

DT The Ruler: Cut that shit out.

Mr. Opinion: Ooh, feisty! I would’ve never guessed I’d become so rational that I also become docile. But you still have a tiny bit of fire left it sounds like. But that may be my opinion from this short observation. Remember back in CWF when I used to say ‘in my opinion’ and motherfuckers thought they were so clever saying ‘WELL I’M GONNA BEAT YOU AND THAT’S A FACT, JACK’ like that shit was clever? Fun times. Stuff like the Maxim Top 100 was opinion. The quality of superhero movies over the past decade or so is opinion, also. But you being able to beat anyone anywhere wasn’t and isn’t, your competitive fire being strong wasn’t and isn’t, and deep down everyone knew you could’ve been great back then, just like these guys know now. But you still ain’t answer my question: why aren’t you getting ready right now? You know you wanna be in a Golds Gym or something, punching down a few sandbags, getting some bench press reps in, probably jumping rope like Rocky Balboa, maybe stretching out some helpless asshole in that Camel Clutch move you do sometimes. I just know you don’t wanna be sitting here, soaking in Sun instead of preparing for war in the ring again.

(DT The Ruler turned towards “Mr. Opinion” Donovan T and started to speak again, looking at him with a serious expression)

DT The Ruler: I’m not 22, fresh out, and damn near dewy-eyed about Professional Wrestling anymore. I gotta take at least a day or two to recover, and unlike you- my past self- I can afford it and I deserve it. At this point in life, I earned it. Back then, I admittedly was reckless, jumping into anything just to get my name amongst the headliners and the other Main-Eventers of the time. I must be calculated now and THINK my moves through. Not thinking things through got me trapped in a Tag Team with one Mr. Tyler A, a dude I didn’t even like back then, but everyone else seemed to see a chemistry I did not. Not thinking my moves through got me to be a proverbial Red Shirt for the King’s Court and the Alliance when they were battling against Shane, Gary V, and Boogie Woogie Pretty Boy.

Mr. Opinion: What? Why you thinking about that old shit? Just because you’re sitting outside alone doesn’t mean you gotta be like an old man in the park with “Mad World” by Gary Jules in the background. You’re not Gregory House! Come on, man! Get it together! Not every path to glory is perfectly paved in gold. Sometimes shit like that happens, so what? Despite all that, you became CWF World Champion and beat all those top guys at once. You proved yourself and became The Man anyways. So listen here, as a reminder: no one in that Clash match cares about what you deserve or what you’ve been through. I mean you’ve seen that over the past few months: when you and Raivo were fighting to get in these title scenes, they don’t even try to help; all they did was stand in your away even more. Some of them even mocked you because you can take care of your health, as if that makes them look tougher or something. Your muscles, your suits, your offices, your bald head: all subject to ridicule. Maybe that’s closer to the reason why I’m here: to remind you of things like that, to repeatedly tell you how much they don’t give a fuck. In my opinion, you need a reminder that these people are all about self. You’re chopped liver to them as they imagine themselves as some Food Network delicacy. Even with your past accomplishments, even with your more recent accomplishments, you’ll still get people acting like you never did shit worth mentioning! It was to the point that pancake ass bitches off Odyssey had the audacity to speak your name like they’re above or equal to you when NO ONE IS. That OWA place should’ve shown you in this past year and a half that at the end of the day, all they see is Championship glory and legendary status for themselves. You gotta look at it that way, too, man.

DT The Ruler: You think I don’t know all this? You think I’m just sitting here, contemplating retirement after losing the Tag Team Championship belts? I’m not like one LeBron James after getting swept by Denver. I’m not Serena Williams after getting bodied by Naomi Osaka. I know what needs to be done, and I’m going to prepare myself for another fight. Because that’s what the Clash is: a fight. And that preparation will come eventually.

Mr. Opinion: OK, that sounds great, present me, but you gotta be more motivated than that, man... at least in my opinion, you gotta be.

DT The Ruler: Here we go with that phrase again...

Mr. Opinion: Is it opinion, though? Because even though I said it, I don’t think so, bruh. I know how you think- for obvious reason- but I also know how they’re going to think about you the short moment they might have to. They’re gonna look at you as a man that helped wage a war, teaming with a demonic entity and putting the World in danger because of personal angst and petulant reasoning, no different than an R&B diva from the 90s being told “no”. I saw you putting your all into matches before The Alliance was formed, evaluating and re-working your toolbox even after you won. I always saw you going all out when the bell rang. And each and every time something unfortunate happened to you, something went against your favor, where they’d push you to the side for someone else despite all your work, all they said was “demz da brakes”, and most of them didn’t even waste words saying that. Whenever there was a title match and you weren’t included, most of those people in the coming Clash did not say, “Man, DT deserves a title shot” or “should’ve been DT in my place”. Let’s face it: they’re NEVER gonna say that, even if it’s true. All you can do is force the issue by beating reasons into the opponents given to you. All you can do is stomp your arguments into their chest until your boot is imprinted into their skin. And eventually, they won’t be able to avoid it. Not for you, not for Raivo. But you have to prioritize you.

DT The Ruler: I already know thi-

Mr. Opinion: No, no, no, no, no... I don’t think you’re hearing me, so let me make things clearer for you. Look, Mister Sir Donovan T, Ruler of Men, Esquire Exclamation Point Dot Hashtag... really, do look. Look at this scenario! You’re going into the Clash match again, once again with barely any mention of you as a threat, with barely any mention of your inclusion. All these other Kingdom guys getting interviews and segments, and all this happens right after you nearly get killed for titles people call lesser than. Look at the damn poster for the PPV: neither you nor Raivo are on it, and you two were dominant Tag Team Champions for a while. While you guys had to damn near kill yourselves facing two other teams at #OWA5, these other guys who got multiple chances already over the past couple of YEARS get a chance to make things even EASIER for them at the Clash and pick their entry number!

(DT The Ruler started clenching their fist, revealing the largest veins in his arm as his anger grew)

DT The Ruler: You think I don’t know this shit alrea-

Mr. Opinion: AND ALSO... look at all these guys being talked about. Most of them are in the very group you went to war with, a group that gets Hero’s Merit and brownie points for taking down a demonic being that went straight-up ballistic against YOUR team-up. The Frontline. That very boyband you went to war with and ended up with a truce you didn’t want. That very group that holds a former World Champion in it that you had beat for his title! That very group that has two former World Champions YOU DETHRONED AS THE MOST DOMINATING TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS IN HISTORY- with other people fighting in the title match trying to do the same thing!

DT The Ruler: YOU THINK I DON’T KNOW THIS SHIT ALREA-

Mr. Opinion: AND ALSO... this is a perfect chance to do better than last year, because LAST YEAR, against more people, with momentum against you, with no one looking your way, with a bunch of random nobodies like Noah Quinn calling you old, calling you irrelevant, after coming off two close losses in a row, with one of them being against the man that is champion now, a man who you know you can take on mixed with other men who know by now that you’re not a pushover: this is the chance YOU NEED to make a statement AND become the man at the mountaintop.

*sir...*

Mr. Opinion: And I know you know this, as you should know this, but you need to take it all with you. Soak it all in, and start preparing for war once again in that very ring. This is the type of chance you wanted all along, and it’s your chance to not only put your foot on everyone else’s neck but also show everyone who is the Master and...

*sir...*

(DT The Ruler was shown again, opening his eyes once more and he looked around. There, he saw “Mr. Opinion” Donovan T was gone from the area. He felt the temperature slightly drop as the Sun no longer was as present as before. He looked around and saw one of his advisors standing across from the bench)

Advisor: Sir...

DT The Ruler: I heard you. (DT The Ruler stood up and took a deep breath) Get the jet ready.

Advisor: What? What are you talking-

DT The Ruler: Get. The. Jet. Ready. Call my trainers in Hartford, too. I’m leaving tonight.

Advisor: You’re not fully recovered from the Guerilla Warfare match. You should sleep on it.

DT The Ruler: I'm a grown-ass man. I don't need babying. If I decide to sleep, it’ll be in the plane. Get going.

(The advisor walked away pulled out his phone, making an immediate call. Once he left the area, DT The Ruler spoke again)

I had a revelation- well reminder- while my eyes were closed, and I need to push that agenda I envisioned. The agenda is the goal of every member of For The Minorities and it is to be the best in this organization by doable means. Ms. Diantha Rosso is already on the verge of doing so on Odyssey, but myself and Mr. Raivo must achieve that on Kingdom. Over the past year and a half, I have fought for many reasons, including to set a new precedent here for what a Champion looks like, for what an Alpha of the highest order looks like and should strive to be. And even in this season in OWA, I started it as a champion, and I don’t plan to not be a champion for very long. Every battle in the ring I’ve been a part of so far is a step towards the ultimate goal, and I cannot throw away progress because of aches and pains I need to walk off. That is the nature of the sport; everyone is hurt. Most physically, some emotionally, but the pain exists. I cannot sit back and take the chance of being unprepared or under-prepared. It’s not in me to wing anything anymore, as despite the randomness of the battles over the past five months, I have understanding that organized violence is necessary to gain the ultimate prize in OWA. I know all those Frontline degenerates and their associates like Mr. Arata Asakura will be ready to fight. I know even some of the overlooked fighters and past enemies of mine like Mr. Myojin, Mr. Jacob Striker, and Mr. Noah Kreiger will be ready to fight. Even Mr. Taniguchi Sena and Mr. Tyler Kulina will be ready to fight ME in particular. I know even men with GOAT potential like Mr. Raivo and Mr. Chad Ecclestone will be ready to fight. Last year at The Clash, I was dismissed as a threat before I entered the ring. I was written off only to outdo most of those naysayers. My entry number was number 9 of 40 eager and hungry men, some of which are also going to be in this coming Clash match. Despite being 9, I fought hard and made it to Top 8. Myself and Mr. Raivo worked together for a moment to up the ante against many of the favorites of the time. And that was for an opportunity at the OWA World Championship. The men of Kingdom and Olympus and the now defunct OWT all went in, looking to win that chance.

Emphasis on chance.

Last year: we fought for a chance.

This year is VERY DIFFERENT for Kingdom.

So, the reason I’m leaving tonight is because I need to. Sitting down in luxury, reclining in a bed comfortably: that is not going to get the job done. Everyone is aware. Look at the men I’m facing. A good few of them are former World Champions. The main three Frontliners, Mr. Arata: all had the chance to hold the very title. With that title in hand, they’ve all done their dirt, they’ve all got their chance to be at the mountaintop and be considered That Guy. They got to build their resumes, headline PPVs, stand against the men considered the best of the Omega Wrestling Alliance, be celebrated as champions above all others. The main thing for most of them is that all of that happened before I was here. All of that happened while I was pushed away from the scene repeatedly. I’ve had a total of ONE World Title match in my year and a half of being in OWA. But one thing over the past year, this fifth season, that most of those men can’t say is that they’ve been champion throughout almost all of it. Outlaw Champion AND Tag Team Champion for most of the season and defended each title successfully more than a few times against anyone: only one man can say that. Was I featured every week as the main attraction? Was I looked at by the men of the Locker Room as a man to be wary of? Not at all. And with how things flowed last year in the Clash, those men- as well as everyone else involved- better be weary.

Because compared to myself last year, I am BETTER.

In my vision, I saw a past version of myself. I saw myself from when I started in this business, my entry into a big organization, and I was a very different person then. I was impressionable, somewhat gullible, unaware of my surroundings, and trusting of people who ultimately would do what I anticipate even Mr. Raivo doing when the time comes: putting personal glory over everything else. When the time comes, I understand the hunger of everyone on Kingdom. OWA in general is filled with many men and women masquerading as starving dogs, dead set to sink their teeth into opportunities like this. You see last year, some of the degenerates I faced and ultimately ended up throwing out of the contest despised the idea of being part of The Clash. They thought they were above fighting for contention and thought why not them against the World Champions at that time. And for that many of them faded away once the dust settled. The stakes are greater this time, and this time: I am greater as a Wrestler. It doesn’t matter who it is, whether it be the Frontline guys, whether it even be “Dick Milk” Slaughter or even Mr. Edward Softly: all I will see when it comes down to it is another person to send sailing over the top rope and out of my way towards that championship.

(DT The Ruler started walking away from the bench)

I’m sure some will go into this match believing this is going to be fun. I’m sure a few people who haven’t won anything substantial for months will believe they’re going to come into this and make miracles happen. Hell, guys like Mr. Bishop are going to come into this believing their past win will guarantee this match is in the bag for them. And all they’re going to do is disappoint themselves when confronted with the Truth in the form of the Master and Ruler.

(DT The Ruler kept walking towards the building, looking focused again, and put his hand over the camera, forcing it to black out)

VaeVictisBD, Scott Oasis, Jeff X, Alyssa Grace, The Banshee, Darkane, Remington Ivory Prescott and have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos May 28th 2023, 2:00 pm by **Arata Asakura**

Clash of the Titans #1: State of Mind.

27.05.2023 Osaka, Japan

*Clash of the Titans. The main topic brought wherever Arata directed his attention to. On TV, social media and even while passing some people on the street, he heard them talking about one of the most exciting events in wrestling. Not to mention that this Clash seemed to be somehow more important than in previous years. This time, the participants did not fight only for a spot on Final Destination, but to enter it as OWA World Champion. For many, winning here was like a dream come true, so the Japanese man knew that no one would give up easily on that opportunity. He also preferred the same approach. But what was making him different was that he had a plan that could be realized with the little advantage that he had. Spot selection. It was something everyone wanted, but only he had real power over it. However, his choice was met with a wave of criticism, which he expected. But it didn't change the fact that his goal was still the same. There was absolutely no regret in him. No matter how hard it gets, Arata vowed to himself that he would do anything to beat literally everybody.*

*However, Clash wasn't the only thing on his mind. He still couldn't forget that strange dream he had before OWA5. He kept wondering what it was supposed to mean. Above all, he wanted to know what the purpose was. Perhaps it was his imagination, or maybe the Gajin Killer had one last message to deliver to him, before he vanished forever. Perhaps he wanted Arata to see something completely different in this anger and envy. Perhaps it was supposed to be a warning, not to deviate from the right path, cause he will find only sorrow and suffering. This was pretty much confirmed by a pile of journals he found in his house. No one has touched them for many months, so they were very dusty. With a scowl on his face, Arata wiped away the dust with his hand and began to analyze page by page.*

"What are you so focused on, son?"

*Arata looked up from diary to see his mother, standing next to him. Though he didn't know if he should claim her as his own.*

"Son? Is it okay with you to call me that?"

*The woman smiled widely and patted his head.*

"When you live in a world, where you don't know what's right and what's wrong....when you don't know what's real and what's not...these details don't seem to matter. I trust my eyes and they tell me that my son is sitting here."

*Arata smiled back, then saw the woman looking at the contents of the diary.*

'It's today...London will be on fire. It's a strange feeling to walk through streets full of people, who don't even know what a vile fate awaits them. They are so calm and carefree. They don't sense an impending threat at all. Even though their tragic end is less than forty minutes away. Soon, this whole idyll will turn into an exhibition of dead bodies and despair. I don't know what to think about it, but it seems to me that there is no other choice. The message that The Golden Dawn has to send must be strong and reach everyone. It is to be remembered as a warning to those who choose to stop my vision. Even if it hurts me to have to take the lives of so many innocent people. It is sometimes necessary to sacrifice a few miserable bodies for the sake of the majority. Come on, Arata...This is not the time to feel sorry for yourself...It's time to finish the preparations.'

*The woman read aloud, trying to control the emotions that bombarded her.*

"What do you think? What do you feel when you see his image in your mind?"

*Nervously moving his thumb against the knuckle, Arata thought for a moment.*

"It's not that I hate him...I just can't understand this deep rooted hatred. I can't fathom how many tragic decisions he made, believing it would heal his trauma. First of all, I don't want to imagine what happened in his head. Even though everyone thinks he was pure evil, I see something else. It was a deeply hurt person who couldn't handle the way this world worked. After all, he wasn't always like this..."

*Arata took another notebook and opened it on the first page.*

'I've never kept a diary, but maybe this is a good time to start. Perhaps when I look at it one day, I will fondly remember my journey. Anyway, I am flying to America tomorrow. I still can't believe someone like me got a contract with a major company. It seems so unreal that I don't know if it's a dream or not... Although it seems that sometimes the impossible is actually achievable. That's what I want to show to people...especially people like me. I'm not overly optimistic, but I want to give at least a shadow of hope, that sometimes life can surprise you in a very positive way. I'm excited to change the world.'

*As he finished quoting these words, his mother grabbed his hand, which he kept running along his neck, leaving small scratches. She noticed the same on his forearms.*

"Oh...so you too? Anyway, don't do that...you leave marks. If you make it bleed, it will only get worse... you remember, right?"

*In a way, Arata felt a little embarrassed, because he wasn't scratching on purpose. It was an unconditioned reflex.*

"I know, I'm sorry. It just sort of happened."

*Arata and his mother talked for some time, after which the man decided to take her for something to eat. All these diaries made the atmosphere tense, which was not good for her, or him.*

28.05.2023 Osaka, Japan

*After going through all those notes, Arata felt a little better. On the one hand, he was glad that he could meet the ma,n he replaced in this dimension. But most of all, it explained to him the meaning of this strange dream. While Arata never thought of taking such radical steps as the Gaijin Killer, no one could be sure what he would do when something terrible happened to him. Everyone is always the guardian of morality, until they become a tragic victim of fate themselves. But that didn't matter anymore. Now that he was familiar with the past, he could look calmly towards the future.*

*The shot opens in a local casino, immediately catching the current OWA Outlaw Champion, Arata Asakura. A man sits on a black couch, wearing a dark beige suit, white shirt, and brown leather shoes. A silver watch can be noticed on the man's wrist, while the previously mentioned championship is lying on the table in front of him. The man's body language indicates that he is quite relaxed. Arata leans back against the headboard and has one leg placed over the other. The room seems a bit dark, but the lights coming from the street are enough to see his face clearly. He is calm, but there is a spark of fierceness in his eyes. After a short while, the first words come out of the Japanese man's mouth.*

Fate is a nasty bitch. Every attempt to deceive it leads sooner or later to a great tragedy. Yet, we all try to change what was destined to happen. Somehow it works sometimes, but most of the time it's just a futile attempt. However, I have never tried to fuck around with fate, even if it may seem like this, looking at where I come from. I did something else, I put it in my own hands. I have become the master of my own destiny, and nothing has changed for more than four years. Everyone knows that I like to be in control of a situation, and above all, of myself. It's not an obsession or anything like that, but a desire for having a comfort. I like to know what will happen. I hate uncertainty and waiting for answers, that you don't know when they will come. That's why everyone expected me to take the match seriously at OWA5. Everyone knew I wanted to win, even before the Outlaw Championship was put on the line as well. What I wanted to do at first, was build my comfort zone for the most important event this year. And I got it. I'm here with the biggest benefit you can have, and I know that it will be my trump card. I am convinced that this will allow me to leave the ring not only with the OWA Championship, but also with satisfaction. Even if you think I'm making a mistake. I understand where these concerns come from. I was expecting accusations of stupidity, but don't forget who you're talking about. I don't make stupid mistakes, and certainly not to please my ego. I am not like half of that wrestling industry. I am not only thinking about the result, I always pay attention to the process.

Number one spot is a gamble, but my whole life I've made decisions this way. My actions have always had to be based on risk, and my poor situation back in the day, helped quite a bit with that. After all, I had nothing to lose, so it was harmless for me to try. It's exactly the same now. I have nothing to lose. After all, in a match like Clash of the Titans, it is either black or white. There are no shades of gray in between. You either win or you lose, so gamble is the only fucking way to go. Unlike many people, I'm not afraid to get first into the ring. It doesn't matter that it means I have to spend so much time between the ropes, and I will be exhausted. I don't care if I put myself in a position where it's me against the world, because I'm used to it. I have shown the 'world' many times that it is not holding a candle to me. I have proven that I can do things that seem impossible. Why should it be any different this time? Since the company chooses to go all in and make Clash for the World Championship. Then why shouldn't I give everything I have? I may be doing something stupid, but what matters is that, I think it's the right thing to do. I want to enter and leave the ring without regrets. I want to go in as a champion, and end my night with another belt around my waist.

I am more than sure that you think my desire to start a match is not the only nail in my coffin. The other one is right in front of me, and let me tell you one thing. For the past few years, I've thought so myself. Each time I had the feeling that Outlaw Champion was in a fucked up situation and had to keep their eyes around their head. They were crushing under the huge pressure and internal struggle of what to prioritize. The fear that if you sacrifice a belt to win Clash, you'll still fail and will be left with nothing. However, I do not share this vision. Some of you know me well, and I am sure my Frontline friends already know. I'm stubborn and can't give up on things. However, it is certain that I will not try to keep the Outlaw Belt at all cost. I don't give a shit. If to become World Champion again, it requires me to sacrifice what I already have, then I will do it. It's not even about me insulting the value of this belt. It's just that I have slightly different priorities and I won't let that limit me. That's why, I am breaking a bubble to those who think it is something that will get all my attention. I won't shed a tear as long as I stand in the ring with the belt I admire the most. OWA World Championship.

Number one and two spots are not really different from each other. After all, they start at the same time, so does it matter which one I picked? Perhaps it has something to do with how impactful it sounds. I want to be the first one to be in the ring and the last one standing with a championship in my hand. And I know that many would like to make it their own reality. Because there is no better way to make yourself an undisputed winner. Even if it seems like a child's dream, I know I can do it. And he realizes it too, that's why he decided to laugh in my face. Stark...you are scared, aren't you? You are afraid that you will not only lose your championship, but to someone who shows more courage than you ever did throughout your entire career. You want to make sure you take me out, before I get into my rhythm, because you won't be able to stop me from winning. Even if it sounds ridiculous, the further into the match, I am more focused. I am able to reach the state of ZONE and then no one is a match to me. Honestly, I don't see any other reason for you to put yourself in such a situation. You are not the kind of person who wants to defeat all adversities. You don't care about proving yourself, even for your own amusement. So why would you put your reign in serious jeopardy? There is something that comes to my mind. Simply, you are just a bitch. You want to steal my spotlight. You want to make everything about yourself, cause this is what you always do. You're like a parasite to OWA that comes in here from time to time and once it attacks hard enough, you're difficult to get rid of. Let's be honest, Stark. You don't even care about this company. You just come here every year and randomly get a title shot till you finally made it, cause Jason turned out to be fluke. It is his fucking fault that we have such an embarrassment as a champion. Just look at yourself, Stark. Sure, you beat this or that, but at the same time you are making a mockery of this belt. You don't treat it seriously even in the least. The only reason you do it is because you like to see people annoyed. You are a disgusting provocateur who loves to spit in our faces. And this is why you bribed oasis to get that spot. However, you did not foresee one thing. If anyone can survive the whole fucking match, it's ONLY me. This is my fate, and during Clash you will get punished for trying to deceive yours.

It is going to be Frontline's year again. Something I heard from Jeff not too long ago. After all this nightmare we've all been through, it seems only fair to finally want some peace. I guess, it's ok to desire to focus on ourselves. And to be honest, I share that vision, Jeff. We should finally think about ourselves, because all this time we carried the burden of protecting our loved ones and we were close to being crushed under that weight. While there are still some question marks about what happened after Hell's gates were opened, nothing bad has happened so far. Looks like we're finally getting a chance to enjoy our fucked up lives. Hell, even you seem very different, Jeff. You've changed a lot lately. I don't know if it's because you finally decided to grow up, or if it's the good influence of other people. However, I am glad that you are growing in different areas of life. I am glad you are putting in some work, so nobody ever calls you a drunk-addict Neanderthal. Well, maybe me from time to time, but with love. But you're a really good guy. You are someone who always cared about everyone. I am not saying that all these heroic acts had nothing to do with satisfying your ego as well. After all, we all have that nasty egoist inside of us. The thing is, under that tough guy mask, you've always kept Frontline together. That's why I'm a little concerned about how the current situation will affect you. Can we still talk about Frontline as a team? Theo is gone...Bishop is injured and it is not known when he will return. It is you, me and Chris left and even he doesn't seem to be in a good state of mind lately. So I hope that as someone who's always been the most loyal to this faction, you're not sitting there heartbroken, thinking the end is close. Although who knows, maybe it's just a bad impression. Anyway, I say this because I really want you to go into Clash with motivation to win. I don't want your thoughts to be somewhere far away. Because if I'm going to beat everyone, I want my brothers to be at their peak, Jeff.

We're all hurt and completely washed by that fucking wars...but you act especially weirdly recently, Chris. What happened? For the last few weeks everything seemed stable. Whereas, now you're looking at me and Jeff like we're complete strangers. You act like we never struggled and we literally fought alongside you. Listen, I really fucking get your point, Chris. Havoc ruined your life and then took your wife. All the time you were haunted by a lot of negative emotions. You have the right to be angry...you can have a lot of regret. But I don't think it's fair, that you believe the title shot solves my problems. I also have my traumas and my battle, Chris. Sure, winning a belt or two is great, but if it was all so easy then mental health care system would not exist. You know, I love you so, please, don't be ignorant like this. You really believe my concern is over, because I have an Outlaw belt? Don't be ridiculous. Despite all the wounds from the past I have...the ominous aura of the Gaijin Killer still hangs over me. People still consider me a fraud. Nobody believes me and you should know how difficult it is to gain trust. You know how time consuming it is to rebuild a reputation. What really works against me is that, what people trust the most are eyes and then brain. They were able to put a line between Chris and Havoc. I look exactly like a monster they were scared of. But I never intended to change, because it was pointless. That would be the easier way, and that's not my style. I decided that I don't want to create illusions, I want to change their perception. And Clash is what I need for this. I want them to see how much I love wrestling and this company. I want everyone to realize that I am not here to hurt someone. I am here to make this business a better place with my outstanding persona. So please, don't talk such a shit to me, Chris. I am your friend, not enemy. I am here to compete with you, not lose another important person to me. Both of our friends are gone for a while and I don't want your anger to be a reason why we will go in other directions. Let's support each other. Let the best man win.

*Arata extends a clenched fist towards the camera for a bump. Then he moves his hand down.*

This opportunity is not only about Stark. It is not only about Frontline. I am more sure that everyone who got a chance to participate in this match, really wants to get this championship. For some it will be like a redemption arc to fixed what they fucked up in the past. It is just a shame Jason came with the same attitude that he was known for when he left. He came back as a fucking coward. What was the attack on Bishop supposed to prove? That you are a bitch? Were you so afraid that he would throw your lazy ass over top rope, that you decided to get rid of him earlier? Have some fucking shame. And you know what? I love how you try to act that you have leveled up over the years. It really amuses me that you're trying to make it seem like you're not that spoiled little prince anymore, when you were still going by the name Maverick. You want to call yourself king? You want to be an emperor? With someone like you in power, any kingdom would be set on fire and it would be done by your own people. And this is what happened when you dropped the belt to Stark. Did you even do anything after that? Of course, except bitching and making Abholos your comfort mascot? I really can't believe how devoid of cause and effect thinking you are, that you didn't see any danger in what you were doing. Do you even know the concept of consequences, dude? You really are fucking lucky that you escaped death, cause with that little brain of yours is a miracle. But I do realize that since you're coming back now, you have a specific plan. Just remember one thing though, Jason. Your dirty tricks won't put a belt around your waist all the time. By now, you should see that your lack runs out.

What is worth paying attention to are the new stars, who are yet to experience the feeling of having a main event gold. Noah Kreiger. Arthur Wakefield. Chad Ecclestone and many others. They're all very different, but what makes them the same is hunger for success. Something that is especially visible among those who don't have such a long wrestling experience. However, we all know that no matter how admirable such an approach is, it's not always enough. Not to mention that the elite of this brand also wants to feel the taste of gold once again. The thing is, mine feeling are a little different. It's not just motivation. It's not just hunger for success or strong desire to win. None of you can understand what I feel inside. None of you can imagine how my fixation on winning works. I am not crazy. It is not even that I am obsessed. It's just that my brain doesn't allow any other thought than reaching a victory, whenever i compete in the ring. My mind believes that this is how it should be. It treats it as an absolute norm. Otherwise it won't let me get some peace. It will not let me funcion like a normal human being. So it is not even like I want to win...I HAVE TO win, otherwise my mental state will be in shambles.

That's why no matter what it takes, I will win Clash of the Titans and I will bring the OWA Championship to Final Destination to truly redeem my name.

VaeVictisBD, Christopher Sabertooth, Scott Oasis, Jeff X, Alyssa Grace, Remington Ivory Prescott, "Killer Bee" and DT The Ruler have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos May 28th 2023, 12:20 pm by **Diantha Rosso**

“GET AN EMT IN HERE RIGHT NOW!”

Diantha was bleeding profusely. She had just been discovered by Maggall of all people, the massive man squatting down, trying to get the OWA Women’s World Champion some medical attention after Skylar’s attack during their dinner. She was fading in and out of consciousness as her hand-picked challenger spoke to her.

Was she angry?

Was she fearful?

Was she in pain?

No. She merely stood up from the ground, covered in wine, blood and shards of glass.

“Diantha, what the hell are you doing!? Sit down. Let them tend to you.”

By now, EMTs and the rest of FTM were flooding the locker room to attend to Diantha. When Giovante was going to speak she simply raised her hand to stop him. The look in her eyes definitely caught the others off guard. She was emotionless, simply looking around for someone. Then, she noticed a cameraman backstage.

“You. Come here.”

The cameraman seemed confused seeing as he was filming something for another member of the Odyssey roster. When the young man didn’t respond fast enough to her demand, Diantha simply walked up to him, slapped him in the face and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.

“Follow me.”

He tried to speak but found himself being pulled towards the same locker room that Diantha had emerged a bloody mess from. EMTs and her comrades tried to talk her down but she would simply ignore them.

“You. Turn the camera on. Everyone else, leave.”

There were murmurs of confusion and concern for a few moments as Diantha waited for the room to clear.

“I SAID FUCKING LEAVE!”

With that outburst, everyone slowly departed from the room except the cameraman. FTM as a group were the last people to leave the room. Maggall hesitated for a moment, looking to speak, but a simple glance in his direction from Diantha otherwise had him leave.

What did she do when the camera was on?

She used her own fingers to wipe up the mix of blood and wine….and licked it clean with a smile.

The last two times I was enclosed inside of anything resembling a cage, two very important things happened.

The first time, I conquered an all-star lineup and became the OWA Women’s World Wrestling Champion. And then I had that belt stolen away from me. That moment led me down the path of destiny that I’ve walked ever since.

The second time, I nearly killed the Banshee and saved everyone on Odyssey a shitload of trouble. I pressed my boot against her face and pressed shards of broken glass into her skin with a smile on my face. Then, somehow, I was spared from her vengeance. I grew with her, came to understand her, and eventually saw to her demise.

You have requested, and received, a match with one of OWA’s most violent animals, Skylar. You shouldn’t be celebrating this. In fact, you should feel the greatest sense of worry you’ve ever felt in your entire life. For the past few months, I’ve worked with you, patiently. You go on and on again about how you were robbed of the championship, how you are completely sure that you would be champion and achieving your Manifest Destiny.

A small smile creeps on Diantha’s blood-stained face.

I guess we’ll never know.

Congratulations, Skylar. You’ve figured me out. I’m not a God. My talent is not transcendent. I am a human being that can bleed just like you. I have a lot of flaws. I care too much about wrestling and I care far too much about how people perceive my body of work. I take the slightest bit of disrespect personally. The very mention of my brother sends me into wild, uncontrollable rages of sibling rivalry that would make Romulus and Remus blush.

Tell me something: how is it that you believe that you’re ready to do all this spectacular shit that you say you’re ready to do? You’ve done nothing here in OWA yet, aside from almost beating me one time, that has ever given any indication that you can do it. All of your partnerships have been catastrophes of the highest order. You have chronic backstabbing disorder to such a degree that you make Natalie Cage look like a saint. Have you won a title or tournament since you’ve been here? Have you actually been able to completely back up anything that you’ve said since you’ve been here?

No.

There is only one person that has been able to back up what they say on Odyssey consistently and that’s me. Sure, there have been bumps in the road when it comes to things like Final Destination, but compared to people like YOU, the whores, Stephanie Matsuda, Alyssa Grace and others ... .My word ought to be treated like a bona-fide Gospel passage in comparison.

It’s extremely hilarious to me that someone who speaks so much about my failures has not a crumb to success to her name. Your position as top contender wasn’t even earned. It was GIVEN to you….AFTER I finished the dirty work I left for you that you couldn’t even finish off. I gave you Felix on a Silver platter, bloodied, weakened, completely out of sorts….

And you lost.

You couldn’t beat a woman NEAR DEATH TO GET THE OPPORTUNITY TO FACE ME IN THE FIRST PLACE.

How on earth do you dare assume that you’ll beat me, in a match that you’ve never participated in in any shape or form, with everything on the line?

That’s not Manifest Destiny. That is the ultimate manifestation of stupidity.

Even during the Great War, you didn’t fight as much as complained, being shielded by myself and the others and barely able to survive. You were just there. I finally got a taste of what the poor people associated with you had to deal with for all that time. The Nakitas, the Azurines, the Novas of the world. But I didn’t mind. You had uses from time to time. Granted, you couldn’t ever finish off the Thots, leaving it as a task that I had to accomplish on my own, breaking two of them so completely that the third hasn’t even bothered to step anywhere near me out of fear of what I would do to them. But you were a useful diversion. A toy. A tool that has helped me accomplish the things that I set out to accomplish.

Unfortunately for you, your usefulness to me has run its course.

And now I can eat you alive.

And by the way, do you have me mistaken for Emmanuelle? That is the only person that I think fits some of the self-absorbed delusions that you have. Lesbian, trained by my brother, trainer of useless Abercrombie and Fitch models masquerading as wrestlers. A whore in every sense of the word. I think it’s funny that you would throw my brother’s presence into my face as if that's an accomplishment. Rebecca Filth told me she would fuck him just to piss me off. Honestly I wouldn’t be surprised if Matsuda already did. I don’t care about him. I have surpassed him, just like all the alleged legends. He is stuck in some backwater in the middle of Louisiana, exiled from New Orleans and Baton Rouge because of my influence, holding on to what little relevancy he has left training his latest Joshi Lesbian project.

His name does not hurt me.

And as far as having relations with him or some of these disgusting female urchins that you seem to suggest, are you projecting your own disgusting fantasies? Does La Verduga have a taste for some coke addict’s big black dick? While Louisiana is backward and disgusting in a lot of ways, we leave the sibling-fucking to places like Alabama. I can understand that someone who isn’t as well-informed as you purport yourself to be could make that assumption, but it is indeed wrong. In any event, you look like his type anyway, obviously enhanced breasts, scarecrow physique, way too much makeup on your face. I appreciate the idea that you would think that I’m some raging sex demon but I do have to confess that in all actuality I’m as asexual as it gets. Such lewd, intimate interactions don’t mean anything to me with either men or women. I hope that clears up your confusion.

You know, I always was hoping that it wouldn’t come to this. That you would eventually smarten up and take a lesser role within For The Minorities. I was hoping that you would sit side by side with me, collecting every title that you could get your hands on EXCEPT MY Undisputed World Championship. We could have ruled this brand like Gods. Not false ones like Arata and Havoc, real, living, breathing Gods. With my resources and your admitted skill, there would have been nothing to stop us. Absolutely nothing.

But no.

You persist with wanting to take this title away from me. You persist with wanting to try to tear my accomplishments down when you have never Main Evented Final Destination, NEVER won a Clash, NEVER won a tournament, NEVER done anything besides have one good match against me that you FOREVER cling onto like Arsenal fans cling onto ALMOST winning the Premier League.

Fine. You see, Skylar, I haven’t built up a delusion. I’ve built my own reality! And you notice one underlying theme, from the beginning of my career to now? Doubt.

Not my doubt, of course. While my confidence issues early on are well-documented and acknowledged, those doubts are long gone. I’m talking about everyone else.

You’re certainly not alone in thinking that I’m nothing special. Everyone who I have come across in pursuit of this title and in defense of it says the same. But no matter how much doubt they have, no matter how much skill they have, this title has a funny way of finding its way to me again and again and again…..

THAT is what destiny looks like.

The Diantha Universe is not cinematic. It’s not an illusion of grandeur. It’s not a figment of a very active imagination. It’s a reality. It is THE TRUTH. For five years, I’ve been at the forefront of this brand, of this very company. These are not things that I say jokingly or to cover up for lack of confidence. Look at the history. Look at Final Destination after Final Destination after Final Destination where I have helped shape OWA’s fortunes. Look at the most RECENT final Destination, where I took the means to do what I do now.

Look at every Clash that I’ve participated in. Won twice, the Iron Woman in another.

The resume that I have built up is not one that was built on fallacy, it was built on real sweat, real blood, and real tears. And now you want to take that from me. Now you’ve come, with all your outside aspirations and interests, none of the passion, none of the thirst for the glories that this sport can produce running through your veins. And that is the difference between us: you live and see this sport as nothing more than a vehicle to further your own interests. This is all I have. This is all I’ve wanted.

And as You have seen, I will go to pretty extreme lengths to protect it. I made a deal with two unworldly creatures just to make sure that FTM would stand atop the wrestling world with me as its crown jewel. Did that alliance go to plan? No. But who came out stronger in the end than any of the so-called winners?

Marie is Goddesses Champion now, but she’s forever broken with two of her friends rotting in hell.

Filth and Felix were broken, and I finished the job by knocking them both out of the championship scene for good.

Jeff X and his band of friends succeeded in stopping Havoc, but the wrestling world has quickly passed them by.

Devi Krysis is still picking boogers out of her nose somewhere in the corner.

The Banshee is still dead, Havoc is gone forever. Abholos is a cuck.

Who do you think benefited most from all the events leading up to and during the Great War?

Me.

All the meddlers have been neutralized or otherwise occupied, all the challenges that were made to my reign have gone answered and OWA is shifting closer and closer to an era that I dominate.

Once I’ve gotten rid of you.

I underestimated you last time. I will admit that openly. Now, if I had wrestled full-tilt back then would it have made a difference? I don’t know for sure. But now, with everything on the line and me standing on the precipice of untouchable, undeniable, LEGENDARY greatness, you’re going to find out. There will be no looking past you this time. There will be a caged lioness stalking fresh prey…..you.

I’ve grown bored and tired with Thotyssey and you are a welcome substitute for the 1000th Rebecca Filth championship opportunity or Aria Jaxon or Stephanie Matsuda. You’ve come close as anyone to drawing out the “old Diantha”, the Champion that you claim no longer exists. Well, at least I have a background of winning to draw from. At least I know that no matter what onslaught you bring I can match and deliver a devastating volley of return fire.

You don’t understand, do you? How could a person that I’ve had dead to rites be so confident? Because I’ve lived this situation with many other people before. Natalie Cage had my number for some time. Until she didn’t. Eris managed to steal the title away from me. Until I took it back. Dulce Torres was someone who caused me some of the biggest frustrations of my career. Until she nominated me to be one of her challengers…and I took the World Championship from her. Llorna was a thorn in my side until she became a credit card in my pocket. Jonetta Stone went from tormentor to buried alive after I cooled down her fire. The Banshee….in hell.

And The Thotyssey, the self-proclaimed foundation of this brand….CRUMBLED as soon as I applied a little pressure.

I may not be the greatest athlete, but I think that I’ve proven to be OWA’s greatest chessmaster. I am patient, observant, and utterly ruthless when necessary. That is what separates me from would be tyrants and Gods and demons. They tried to take everything all at once. I, on the other hand, have taken little by little, bit by bit until I have created a dynasty from nearly nothing.

People have refused to pay homage to me, on that you and I can agree. So, how do I remedy this? I think by spreading your viscera all over the mat. You see, once you’ve been embarrassed, victimized and conquered just like everyone else, maybe they’ll start to come around. Maybe they’ll realize that this march to Final Destination, my Final Destiny, will not be just some catchphrase or talking point. With you destroyed, who will be left to lay claim to my title?

Absolutely no one.

This is why you were chosen. This is why I was more than happy to accept your terms for this match. Because once I’ve beaten you, and Understand that I will beat you, there will be no excuses left. No names that people can hang over my shoulder like some ghost in a Mario video game. No phantoms that people can dredge up. You are the last obstacle in my quest for complete domination of this brand.

And I’m going to clear you just like I’ve cleared everyone else around here.

I am not outside the upper echelon, I AM THE UPPER ECHELON. I’m going to prove it to you by bullying you in that cage like your mother and father should have bullied and disciplined you as a child. When I look at you, I don’t see a competitor that is on my level when I’m at my best. I see food. I see a frightened, spoiled little child who wants to put on the cape and play the role of hero. I see a superficial, arrogant woman who would like to throw subtle jabs about my gender identity and sexuality instead of focusing on the monumental task in front of you. You’re an opponent that is tailor made for me in every sense.

You are easy to provoke, as your behavior during our dinner would indicate. You know that those failures before grate on you, that even though you’ve been able to shake their weight off your shoulders, you’ll never escape the stench. I have no interest in being the perfume to cover up the musty, disgusting scent of your shortcomings. I have no interest in being the piece to your puzzle where you complete your wrestling journey.

I have no interest in ending the suffering that I know you’ve been feeling ever since you’ve crossed my path.

In fact, I sincerely believe that you haven’t suffered quite enough. At Clash of the Titans, I’m going to change that. I’m going to make sure that you suffer just a little bit more and understand what taking this title away from me is going to require of you. You adopted the cage to protect yourself from my friends and your enemies….but you should be more concerned that you signed yourself up to be in a cage with someone willing to do anything to retain the position that they have BUILT and EARNED.

At the Clash, I’m going to finally shatter the myth that you’re destined to hold my title. I’m going to shatter you instead and make sure that you bleed quite a bit for that little stunt you pulled when I was trying to be civil.

You want the Iron Lioness?

You want the Upper Echelon?

You want the Final Pillar?

You have her.

I’ve tried to give salt to my enemies. Now, I’m just going to use said salt to rub on your wounds that I’ll be so happy to inflict. You’re never going to forget what I’m going to do to you in that cage, girl.

And neither will anyone else.

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

Re: OWA Promos May 28th 2023, 4:43 am by **VaeVictisBD**

MANIFEST DESTINY

“Unrivaled influence. The control to manifest destiny into whatever I want it to be.

You haven’t the faintest idea of what extremes I would go to in order to have that kind of power.

Something even the Undisputed Women’s World Championship hasn’t granted you, Diantha.

To incentivize a new era of Odyssey. To not sell the fantasy to the masses, but force the reality down their throats. I harken back to what motivated my every action, my every step towards this coming moment that has led me to the edge of glory. I put the reality of this world on the table, like a caring parent would do for their children. I’ve never put forward anything I didn’t adamantly believe. But at every turn, like the petulant children they are, they've done nothing but push it away with the scowl of rejection — refusal and inability to accept that they were ever wrong. Challenge the illusion of choice the masses worship, and they'll meet it with resistance every step of the way. I was wrong only in expecting them to eventually be able to understand. You especially do not understand. The illusion of choice you've used to stonewall, Diantha. Honestly, it's a neat little world you've fabricated for yourself; one where you believe others cower in the presence of such unyielding dominance. You've been given every illusion to think you have such control — of your past, of your future. It has been everything you've yearned for; the power to control how history will remember you. You've attempted to deny it before, pretend your objectives were above mortal understanding, but you're not that complex. You've never been. How quickly you went back on it and doubled down ever since. You remain so pitifully disillusioned with the reality of what you are. The fact we are people driven by similar things has put me in a very foreign position. I’ve never been one to reside on the moral high ground, nor believe myself to ever be the lesser of two evils — but I was brought to an epiphany. I grounded my desire in realism. Everything I've done has been dictated by my own selfish desires, my Modus Operandi to upset the power structure of the OWA until it has joined my ever-growing empire. A possession in my name. Nothing to do with how I am perceived by others, wrestling has never been the end-all-be-all to who I am, merely the platform to reap a profit and carve my legacy into the face of the world. The uninitiated would mistake that to think us one and the same; but your craven desire to go down in history as the Greatest of All-Time demands the quality to stand at the top undisputed. A quality you don't have. That alone has made it destined to end in complete and utter failure. Your rampant narcissism persists ideas of an undisputed conqueror, whose excellence bows the land of Odyssey under their boot. But answer me this; what does it speak to when a conqueror doesn’t strike fear into the hearts of others? When they have nothing to inspire and have inspired none to even bend the knee. When all that has progressed is the number of days under the sun, collect nothing but the occasional tally that doesn't reward a thing as they're preaching their standard of excellence — but the standard they have led by example is the furthest thing from what true excellence is. I’m going to spare you the embarrassment of giving me one of the many wrong answers buzzing around inside your head. It speaks to their absolute insecurity. And while you try your very hardest to carve your chapters with intricacies in the hope they last your lifetime — a narrative of the unstoppable champion who has shed herself of all mortal weakness — the inconsistencies are glaring. It reeks of desperation. It’s unbecoming of someone who believes they stand undisputed above all to have spent every day of their reign struggling to keep it from falling apart at the seams. It's laced in your language, in your every action, and has become transparent in your every result since you came into possession of the Women’s World Championship; you've become burdened with the inability to ever be worthy. Of ever being considered among the Greatest of All Time.

And I have watched as every week becomes more and more a desperate struggle to prevent it from eating you alive.

But I doubt I would be satisfied even if it did. I doubt the satisfaction of seeing the true depths of your delusions of grandeur would satiate the anger that has been feeding on my heart since I was cheated out of my title shot. An opportunity I had earned on my own, and had to jump through every hoop imaginable despite my attempts to take the shortest road to my destination, just to correct the mistake and put my destiny back on the table. I had to fight in a war that had nothing to do with me, one that offered nothing for me to otherwise gain, solely with the promise I would have my rightfully earned opportunity back. But, it was never delivered. Only now, in your incessant need to feel powerful, do you extend to me what has been long since owed. But the facade of doing so under any notion of making good on your promise is as transparent and naive as your wannabe messiah complex. What you really wanted was to pretend it was a charitable act. Now that I’ve put pen to paper, it’s obvious the narrative course you’ll take. One where you’ll pretend and proclaim the only reason Skylar Arceneaux is being afforded another shot at the championship is all due to you and the almighty benevolence you possess. Wrong. Whether you care to admit it or not, the truth is that your insecurities dictated these actions. You've accumulated two successful defenses — and it is very generous to entertain the idea they've been successful — while I go on existing as the third you couldn’t get. I'm the outlier that, when we faced each other for that Women's World Championship; you couldn't beat me. Which is understandable because deep down; you know for a fact you weren't going to that night. I'm sure your confidence was real coming in, I'm sure the hype made you think you were untouchable — that you couldn't be defeated so soon. Until you were faced with the opposite outcome as your inevitability on the horizon. I pushed you beyond your limit and I'll be honest with you, I was under the impression it'd be quite the near-impossible task. It wasn't. Had your sniveling simp brigade of white knights not pulled the referee out of the ring when I had you dead to rites, the reign of Diantha Rosso would have been a mere 14 days of temporary infamy — so short-lived it wouldn’t have mattered at all. History would have laughed at your name. Mine would have been the loudest. You've not escaped it like you've merely escaped everything else, you've only prolonged it. To what little credit it is, using the interjection of the trifling whores of Thotyssey to cause the match to be thrown out was a clever excuse to act as if this were some growing humanitarian effort.

But it is as lazy and transparent as every other Diantha Rosso presentation.

All that’s growing, besides your ego and the Adam’s Apple protruding from your neck;

Is the copious amount of vacuous bullshit that’s been spewing from both.

Nevertheless, I can’t help but find it in my heart to applaud the futile effort of trying to bait me into a No Disqualification match, Diantha. I mean, it was absolutely precious to invite me out to dinner and gussy yourself up all nice and fake for me. Had you made this proposition to someone far less cunning and knowledgeable than I, perhaps you would have got your way. It’s unfortunate your codependence has made you far too arrogant. To think I would not see past the thin-veiled justification, the avoidance of another double disqualification, for the trap you were trying to set for me — sweets, you’ve been hitting the cheap wine harder than I hit you with the bottle. We don’t exist in your Diantha Cinematic Universe; the tedious candids of dancing around the fucking point, where you cast your brother and Stephanie Matsuda’s trainees that don’t even work here as the attention-starved boot-lickers that will praise you as someone of a higher brain pattern. Though given the source, the ability to refrain from the urge to eat paste alone would be enough to impress that short bus of integrity. With how infatuated you are with your brother, and every single woman he has even remotely had contact with — all of which are apparently lesbian as a byproduct of association — it wouldn’t be too outlandish to suggest that you hop off your brothers' dick for a change. Then again, given the proud Louisiana roots you come from, there’s a strong chance you along with that wreath of a family tree were conceived by generational brother-sister intimacy enough to think it to be something completely normal. In spite of the main character syndrome that runs deep in your safe space raging-dyke “I’m sleeping with every Twitter thot” world lore; you are one stupid fucking bitch if you thought for even a moment I was going to entertain a stipulation that practically hands the invitation of For The Minorities to save your title reign yet again unimpeded. For Thotyssey to selfishly avenge their heartbreaks at my expense again. I know it’s quite a difficult task for you to get a great many things through that thick inbred skull of yours, but you’re not the Big Bad you seem to think you are.

Arata had lightning to smite his enemies.

Abholos had a devouring fog that warped reality.

Havoc possessed and straight-up murdered people.

You have perpetual PMS and a group of mid-carders to get you out of dodge when you’re about to lose.

Something that has embarrassingly become an often occurrence for you. It’s honestly remarkable how much of what I said about you months ago still holds true to this day. It has become your most reliable quality. You've been afforded so much time to put some validity behind your claims — an entire championship tenure to provide even a shred of evidence that you’re not just the bad product being pushed well past its expiration date — instead I have been a witness to a miserable reign that has survived on charity alone. Diantha Rosso has remained a paper champion throughout. The crux of your disposition comes from what I found in your words against Felix; how records can be eclipsed, ‘but those who surpass them pay homage to those that they overtake.’ It begs the question how many you feel paid homage to you? How many do you feel even put you in the forefront of their mind as someone they have to show reverence to for their validation? Rather, for your own validation? Rebecca Filth didn't when she quickly overtook your prior reign, didn't give it so much as a passing thought. Or we can ask the very real question with the answer you’re not willing to face; how difficult do you believe eclipsing your reign this time will be different from your last? With these records you've become so very obsessed with, you still reside outside the upper echelon of the lineage behind the championship you hold. You’re obsessed with meaningless tallies — a career-justifying dick-measuring contest you've still not even breached the top five despite all the helping hands that have brought you this far. Has it truly been worth exposing to the world that you can’t do anything on your own anymore, Diantha? What does it say about our conquering champion when they don’t possess the strength to carry themselves as a champion anymore and are incapable of defeating anyone? And I mean proper defeat — the kind that snuffs out the competition and leaves no question about who the undisputed champion is. You are a foreign entity to that word. Nothing about you is undisputed, except for how pathetic your legacy continues to drag itself through the mud. The only thing you’ve been able to prove without a shadow of a doubt is that, without For The Minorities picking up your slack, you would have been dethroned several times over. You've been wearing victories over Felix Hartley and Filth like the emperor's new clothes — but no one marvels. No one celebrates. Even the GFX department of this company are not willing to humor your asinine demands when you throw your bitch-fits on Twitter. The only people that seem to hold you in any form of reverence, besides of course in unimportant extras in your shit flix, are the group that constantly have to keep your reign alive when you're about to let it die.

Had they not been your constant saving grace; I would have been the champion in your stead.

That is not based on hyperbole, it’s simply how it would have been. But I don’t expect you to admit that.

I expect you to deny things now and then contradict them later.

I expect you to do the only thing in your career that has been remotely consistent — and continue to lie to yourself. Such as when you told the world that you sacrificed everything for your obsession for that title. How you sacrificed friends who have betrayed you, fans who had turned their backs on you, how your life became a living hell because you weren’t Women’s World Champion anymore. Anything for one last desperate chance to hold it, to cradle it in your arms like a newborn that completes your life and brings meaning to your existence — fulfills this dream of being the greatest of all time. But these things were not sacrifices, Diantha — you haven't sacrificed anything to be what you are today. Your credibility, your reputation, your support system, and your legacy? You did not give these up willingly — you didn't exchange them for anything. These are things you lost, things that slowly left you over the years when your career began to plateau. The Last Pillar you see yourself to be — to which before you incorrect me; there is absolutely no fucking way people started calling you that against your will, you unhinged cherry-picking egomaniac — was becoming unreliable to uphold the ever-evolving standard. You seem to think being The Last Pillar is something endearing, but when the cracks began to swell as you fumbled Final Destination main event after Final Destination main event, you were replaced. A new generation came in and they put the brand on their back. They've done things you couldn't do. They've done things even now, at the height of your belief to wave your hand over everything and claim it as your own, you still can't do. Only by the grace of nepotism that has kept that shoulder decorated do you get to stand in the middle of the new pillars as they do the heavy lifting, all the while flaunting your complex of being the center of the universe — that you are OWA. You are Odyssey. And that you are Women's World Champion.

Whether you've comprehended it yet or not; you've sacrificed these things to me.

Forfeited another Final Destination main event to choke it all away, all in an attempt to satisfy me.

All when you gave me the Steel Cage match.

In spite of signing your destiny away to me so pig-headed and careless; you still elected to laugh. Laughed as you signed your own death wish believing the biggest threat to me becoming the Undisputed Women's World Champion is the Libertine Lioness I’m having locked inside a Steel Cage with me. I hope you continue to carry that belief into Clash of the Titans. I want to hear the same mindless drool of cliches you've been throwing out about how you're the biggest winner in OWA history, the ridiculous idea of how you've been able to carry the mantle all on your own, and want to see how quickly reality sets in when those fifteen-foot-high walls have locked out every influence that has kept Diantha Rosso decorated in the championship that I’ve been overdue. I invite your every attempt to stonewall, pretend you have the ability to choose the fate that awaits you — all that does is the same disappointment that made you. The same disappointment that will unmake you again. Delayed by months, vein attempts to drag the process out to get you closer to the records you aspired to shatter — what remained the same was that you can only ever be anything but Undisputed as Women's World Champion. You're locked into your role in my manifest destiny; and it will all end as I said it would. You have polished the mighty sword to fall upon, and you will do so to the hilt. It was never your Odyssey to rule. It was never your Odyssey to conquer.

The Destiny where I was only satisfied when I hold the Undisputed Women's World Championship high in one hand,

And the head of the Diantha by her blood-soaked hair in the other."

Jeff X, Alyssa Grace, Darkane, DT The Ruler, Felix Hartley and Chad Ecclestone have spoken. It’s such good shit!

CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT PROMO May 26th 2023, 7:51 pm by **The Banshee**

CD Promo

The camera opens up inside a posh hotel room, high up inside a Las Vegas hotel on the main strip. A plethora of Vegas whores are all around the room, some are kissing each other like a softcore porno while others engage in illegal drugs that are strewn across a coffee table in the middle of the suite. However, the camera pans over to a tall and bulky figure that is looking outside the window, seemingly lost in thought. Suddenly, a wide-rimmed glasses-wearing male assistant trips into the room, his brow covered in sweat, his eyes bulging out with fear. The shadowed figure standing at the window, without turning, acknowledges the assistant's presence with only a simple question.

Figure in Shadow: ... I trust you have a good reason for interrupting my vacation...

Geek Assistant: My apologies to you, Mr. McDonnell, but you asked for ANY and ALL NEWS regarding your late foster daughter...

Figure in Shadow: (yelling loudly) THAT DISGUSTING CLOWN-PAINTED FREAK WAS NEVER MY DAUGHTER! SHE WAS JUST... (calmly) a means to an end... and it's YOUR JOB to make sure that she NEVER RETURNS, right? Last time I checked, only Jesus Christ had the power of resurrection... so again, why are you HERE?

Geek Assistant: Well... that's just the thing, sir... There are rumors... reports, even... that someone with a look similar to your... ahem, to Morrighan McDonnell was spotted shortly after the last Odyssey live show went off the air... however, it's most likely just another red herring, we've been getting reports like this for months now... only...

Will McDonnell: ... Only what? Spit it out, if you value your tongue being attached to your mouth...

Geek Assistant: Well... there are some active OWA superstars that are trying to bring back your... bring the monster back, but by all accounts, they've failed at every turn...

Will McDonnell: (chuckling to himself) Heheheheh.... but HAVE THEY?

(Will McDonnell suddenly bellows out a long and loud cackle, which causes most of the whores to stop their activity as they look up, alert and nervous. With just a nod from Will McDonnell, all the whores then proceed to quickly exit the suite, leaving only Will McDonnell and the nervous assistant, who doesn't appear to be following Will McDonnell's train-of-thought.)

Will McDonnell: If that dead bitch's shallow-sighted friend thinks some witchcraft and a repentant monster can rival my pockets AND ingenuity, well then... I'll have a surprise for them... for EVERYONE, at the Clash of the Titans...

Geek Assistant: What do you have in mind, sir?

Will McDonnell: It seems like people don't really miss Morrighan... it's the creature that her so-called "Horde" misses and hungers for... Well, why don't I give everyone what they want...

Why don't I, William McDonnell of Clan McDonnell, deliver to the masses what that dumb ass voodoo whore only dreams of...

At the Clash of the Titans, I will reintroduce the world properly to the TRUE FRUITS OF MY LABOR... I WILL BRING BACK THE BANSHEE MYSELF! And no, this won't be Morrighan wearing some Party City makeup and colored contact lens, but someone that HAS THE MENTAL EDGE to bring MY BANSHEE to life... Maybe this way, everyone will realize that Morrighan is just brown bread, baking forever in the cheap plot I had purchased for her, let's just hope that she is capable of being grateful, even while burning in Hell...

Geek Assistant: Ok sir, but may I ask WHO will be the new Banshee?

(A voice emanates from behind the assistant, a feminine whisper with a very mean tone. The assistant whimpers in fear, as a pale hand grips his throat, while Will McDonnell turns back to looking out the window.)

Unknown Woman: ALL QUESTIONS WILL BE ANSWERED SOON... THE BANSHEE IS BACK... AND A NEW REIGN OF TERROR IS COMING TO ODYSSEY... But please... give Morrighan my best in Hell, will ya?

(The shadowed woman lifts the assistant up by the throat, his gurgles suddenly stop after the woman's pale hand snaps his neck like a twig in Autumn. Will McDonnell begins laughing loudly and maniacally, as the camera cuts to black... for a quick moment, before fading into a gravestone that reads "Here Lies Morrighan McDonnell." As the camera centers in on the dirt laid out in front of the headstone, the ground appears to tremble for a moment, before a very faint sound of a.... shriek, possibly... is heard from very far away. The camera again cuts to black.)

Jeff X, Alyssa Grace, 'Don' Hendrix, DT The Ruler and marielacorriveau have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos May 19th 2023, 11:58 pm by **Aria Jaxon**

THE SPOILS OF WAR. | EUGENE, OREGON.

The recurring dream seemed to have rolled around twice or three times a week for close to two months now, ever since Aria had shown back up in Munich. It always played out the same way.

The room was dark…or at least, she thought it was a room. Truth was, it was likely just a large black expanse stretching endlessly in all directions, illuminated by little more than a couple of dim beams of light shining down from overhead. She always wound up staring at the sight across from her.

She was staring at herself.

Or at least, it had been her, once upon a time.

Waist-length hot pink tracks swaying to and fro, dripping in iterations of all of the championships she’d held throughout her career, a knowing smile situated on her glossed lips, and most of all – that unmistakable air of confidence. The glow that came with the unwavering knowledge that she was the best wrestler on the planet.

Aria felt herself frown. She reached out for that version of herself, to no avail. “All I want is to be you.”

That seemed to be the only thing that could make past Aria’s smile slip. She tilted her head to the side quizzically. “Really? I’d kill to be you. Right now, I’m still fighting. I love it, don’t get me wrong, but you’re on the other side of it.” Past Aria held up a compact mirror to show the Aria of the present her own reflection.

Arianna was cradled in her arms, and the beam of light shining down on her reflected off of the flawless stones that adorned two rings – her wedding ring and the delightfully gaudy OWA Hall of Fame ring. Long black curls spilled over her shoulders and Aren stood just behind her. Aria’s breath was caught in the back of her throat as she appraised her reflection and past Aria spoke.

“You have everything I dreamed about. The stamped career, the happy marriage, the baby…and you’re worried about me?” she scoffed.

Present Aria exhaled sharply. “I…I love my life.”

“Enough that you left wrestling for it for so long.”

“Yeah,” present Aria nodded. “But…it’s built on a solid enough foundation that I know it will be here no matter what. You are the one who’s hanging onto some shit I can’t seem to attain right now.”

A little giggle bubbled over past Aria’s lips. “The multi-millionaire with the Hall of Fame spot, the cute baby, and the hot-ass husband still wants for something?! Bitch are you dense?”

“Belief in myself, goddamnit!” the words came from such an angry and desperate place that when present Aria finally spoke them, they echoed within the darkened void. It shocked past Aria initially, but after a couple of tense moments, her expression softened. She sighed.

“Oh, mama,” she cooed. “Your mistake was forgetting that greatness comes in many forms. You and I aren’t carbon copies. We’re at different places in our lives.” She shook her head. “You shouldn’t be comparing yourself to me. You don’t need to revert into me.” Past Aria slammed the compact shut and opened it back up, revealing present Aria’s new reflection. Everything else was the same – Aren and Arianna were still there – but she had changed. Her street clothes had been replaced by wrestling gear. Her dark natural hair disappeared beneath a flame-emblazoned wig install.

“You need to reconcile who you used to be with who you are now. There’s more than enough room. You can still do this.”

***

I used to think being decisive was so easy.

“How could someone not know for sure that they’re completely done? Like, DONE done?” was what I used to ask myself, accompanied by a roll of the eyes, every time that someone would return to the ring after some sort of self-imposed “hiatus” or semi-retirement or whatever the fuck other term was used to dress it up. For the longest time, I never knew exactly what the end looked like for me, and that was fine. I just felt like I’d know when I saw it. That was good enough for me. What I knew was that when I felt the end approaching, I would know, and I would handle the occasion accordingly. So when the thought that I’d ticked all my boxes and the pull of a slow, stable life outside of the ring became more than I could resist, I was ready to give in. I retired as the Spartans Champion, having secured the Grand Slam and Triple Crown all in one go. The beast was satiated. The need to compete was satisfied. I was content.

Until I wasn’t.

All this talk about what I knew…standing on the opposite side of it all now, I can say I really didn’t know shit.

That was my first sin – passing judgment on people in situations different than mine. When people “rode off into the sunset” only to pop up again somewhere down the line, I was usually the first one to crack a joke. I can admit that a different perspective on it all has made me realize that I was a bit too harsh. The truth is, you never really know what people have going on. You never know what internal or external factors might force someone to make the hard decision to step away from the ring, maybe even having to throw the concession out there that they don’t know when or if they’ll be back. It takes courage to step away from something that you love. It takes more courage to open your heart up to it once again. That’s the bravery that I wear on my sleeve now – to learn in real-time every step of the way that the OWA of the present-day is different than the one I left behind, but to put my dukes up all the same and know that I can survive here.

No, I can thrive here.

What great luck, then, that I’ve met another fearless soul in you, Rebecca. A match made in heaven, if you ask me. It’s interesting that you threw that tidbit in there – reminding me in closing that you’re not afraid of me. I can truthfully call myself a lot of things, but scary isn’t one of them. Just the same, though, I’m glad you’re not scared. It lets me know that all those synapses are firing upstairs. I want you just as you are now – self-assured, looking past me, and with a chip on your shoulder that weighs a ton. I want the Rebecca Filth that left Final Destination IV carrying her weight in gold. I want the Rebecca Filth who had the Openweight Championship for so long that she had to give it up just so someone else could have a chance. Most of all…I want the Rebecca Filth that stood up with her whole chest and told me that Odyssey was her show.

That way, when I beat you, there will be no doubt in either of our minds at the end of it that I earned that W.

You’re talented, Rebecca, but you’re not throwing anything at me that I’ve never heard before. Just in my return run so far, I’ve been called washed, I’ve had people ask where I’ve been and what I’ve been doing all this time, I’ve had people threaten to use putting down a legend as nothing more than a means to an end. I’ve heard it all. For the most part, it’s been little more than background noise. There’s nothing any opponent could say to me that even compares to the questions I was asking myself after those losses at Kingdom 100 and OWA Five.

That was probably the most monumental sin. Self-doubt.

I had to ask myself what the fuck I was doing here. The answer to that is, “Whatever you want, you dizzy bitch.” If I want this run to be worth it, I had to face facts – the only one who will make that come to pass is me. Whatever it is that I want out of it – to become a champion again, to just have fun, to be a role model for my daughter – I can make it happen. Maybe it’s all of those things, or none of them at all. With the World Tag Team Championships dangled in front of my face, I failed. With the OWA World Championship within reach, I fell short. I guess when you strip it all away, Rebecca, it leaves the oldest motivation in the book.

Winning just for the sake of winning, and I used to be really good at that.

That’s what I’ll do when I go toe-to-toe with one of OWA’s brightest young talents, and this story ends with me pinning you clean in the middle of the ring. What you do after this is none of my business, and hey, for what it’s worth, I hope that whole two-time Clash winner thing works out for you. I don’t think anyone would be surprised if Rebecca Filth found herself right back in line to compete for Odyssey’s grandest prize at Final Destination V in a few months. I couldn’t and wouldn’t try to do anything to dull the shine of all that you’ve accomplished up to this point. For all that you’ve managed to have within your grasp, you can’t have this victory. Not while I live and breathe.

Not while I’ve still got atoning to do.

With that being said, I’ll say something that will probably sound a bit selfish – that atoning is for me. For my own peace of mind. There are only so many ways I can say I’m sorry for not being around when the fate of the world literally hung in the balance. There is nothing I can do now about breaking my promise and not returning to Odyssey when I was supposed to return after my baby was born. I can’t go back and recapture the magic that caused me to be held in the regard that I am now. I can only go forward – and that starts with defeating you.

I don’t expect it to be easy, and I sure as hell don’t expect it to be fun. But like anything worth fighting for, the satisfaction I’ll get from righting the ship will be worth it. You know all about the harsh realities of war, Rebecca, and to whom do the spoils always go?

The victor, right?

Consider that a synonym for “Aria Jaxon”.

Scott Oasis, Jeff X, Matsuda, Alyssa Grace, 'Don' Hendrix, "Killer Bee", DT The Ruler and have spoken. It’s such good shit!

pussy power // odyssey oo2 May 19th 2023, 11:58 pm by **Rebecca Filth**

“So we’re just lying now, huh?

It’s fucking hysterical to sit here and watch you rewrite your legacy. To try and tell me what I already fucking know. I don’t give a flying fuck what you said at your little hall of fame speech. I don’t care about the lies you told in the past, Aria. Ego knows ego. There is NOTHING that Aria Jaxon loves more than herself and her accolades. You’ve said as much in the past. You tout them as your shining grace. Hell, you might be more proud of them than you are your own little bundle of joy. She never brought you fame and fortune. She certainly didn't get you respect from your peers. But those titles you hold so dear? They did.

Running Odyssey was never anything more than a side project for you. A way for you to save face and pretend that you were giving back to the women you claim to have carved a path for. You know, ignoring all the women that came before you. But if you cared so much about women’s wrestling, why weren’t you wrestling the women? You left Odyssey in the dust the second you could. You know, after you LOST the first ever-women’s match in OWA history. Funny how you leave that little tidbit out. Still stings to know that Savannah Sunshine had your ass, doesn’t it?

You never gave a fuck about us. Because you’re right, your actions speak volumes. You gave us ONE measly fucking match in your entire career. You let Azumi challenge for your low-level Kingdom Championship. You gave us crumbs. You want a fucking medal? Should we throw you a parade?

You are the REASON that I had to scratch and claw my way to the top of Odyssey. Because when I stepped in the door, you were in charge. I watched as you made the same mistakes people still make about you. Giving the chosen few all the opportunities in the world. Even when they fail. I watched Brookes and Karlson and Grace and Nakajima cycle through the main event scene barely grazing their fingers near titles. But every Pay Per View that rolled around, there was Aria, enforcing the status quo. The real gatekeeper of Odyssey. Holding women like me down because we didn’t fit into your little mold. I wasn’t GIVEN shit when you ran Odyssey. I had to fight for everything.

And at Final Destination, it was your work I had to undo when I upended the hierarchy of Odyssey that you proudly built. All while you made your name on other shows. All while you showed every woman on this brand with your actions that a Women’s Championship was beneath Aria Jaxon. If it wasn’t, why weren’t you vying for them? If it wasn’t, why weren’t those goals ever a part of your fucking legacy? Because you cared so much about Odyssey that you fucking ghosted us. I’m a whore, Aria. I know a fuckboy when I see one. So you’ll have to excuse me if I don’t believe the bullshit you want to feed me.

When I became the Undisputed Whore, I changed everything that you build. And unlike you, I have never been a gatekeeper. I have never held someone back. Nah. You want to kick down the door and say that you belong? Baby, give it your best shot. Rebecca Filth will fight ANYONE that wants to get their ass beat. I let my actions speak for themselves. I have heard every bitch in the back tell me that she was the best, that this was her brand. And when they stood face to face with me in that ring? I watched them give it their all. I watched as their resolve faded. I watched as every shot at winning was dashed and the realization washed over them. That I was right.

You can lie and tell the world that this is MY dream match, that this is a test of my ability. But sweetheart, this is your test. Your return has been absolutely fucking pathetic. A LEGEND, ARIA. You are supposed to be a fucking legend. A decorated bitch who should strike fear in the hearts of her opponents. But it’s pretty clear that you are not the Aria Jaxon of 2018. Hell, in your last match before retirement you barely beat JD Damon. You were right to hang up your boots.

You may be unpinned for two matches. But why don’t you call me back when you go unpinned for nearly two years. Then maybe I’ll be fucking worried. I have proven my worth time and time again. I have been put up against legends that I was never supposed to surpass and I brushed off my shoulders and kept fucking moving. Kept mowing down the women I was never supposed to rub shoulders with. I main event every goddamn pay per view. I main evented my FIRST Final Destination! And I was the last thing anyone saw as the feeds cut. My legend isn’t old and decrepit. I’m not propped up for nothing more than nostalgia from old loser’s who haven’t tuned in since season 1. I am the NOW. I busted my ass for the last two years to be where I am. I am the present and future of this fucking company. You are nothing more than the past. Everyone knows that this match is about to be a banger. Everyone knows that I am the standard bearer on Odyssey now. And everyone wants to see if you can stack up. Is Aria Jaxon’s return going to be failure after failure? Can she actually beat the most decorated athlete that she has faced in her return? Beating you isn’t special. It’s not career defining anymore. Damn, feels like it’s a participation trophy at this point. They’re handing that shit out to anyone and everyone.

But beating Rebecca Filth? And doing it clean? Now that’s damn near IMPOSSIBLE. Do you know how many people have ever done it, Aria? ONE. One fucking woman in the span of two years. You could fucking never.

All while I saved the world. Oh sorry, am I not allowed to bring up the war anymore? Easy for you to say. You were too busy hiding in your mansion and making up sad excuses like a flight is out of your price range. Like the war wasn’t clearly brewing before your eyes for MONTHS. You signed papers to be the guardian of Lita AFTER the war? Cute. I offered to die so her father didn’t have to. We are not the fucking same. You don’t get to tell ME how long I get to bring up the war for. You have no fucking clue what it was like. Everyone keeps telling us to get over it. But it’s because you don’t know what it took from us. You don’t understand that it changed us all, immensely and forever.

And quite honestly, I am never going to stop bringing up the fact that my pussy saved the fucking world. The most yours has ever done is spit out a little crotch demon. My juices were so sweet I was able to undo the years of torture and anguish that your sister did to Edward. A man who deserved so much more than being cast aside by that cunt. Another reason that your new outlook on life is a fucking lie. Because how can you talk about being a role model when you stand next to a murderer? A woman who watched that man spiral and did NOTHING to rectify her wrongs. A woman who stood by and let me clean up her fucking mess. I had to save the world and save Edward because like you, your sister is a fucking coward.

So yeah, you’re right. Thotyssey is leaps and bounds better than the Queens. Because we aren’t cowards. We have integrity. We have grit. And we don’t run from our fucking problems. We laced up our army boots and we rode into a war we were barely prepared for because it was the right thing to do. While the Queens turned a blind eye.

But you wanna talk about what’s done and over? What’s so passe that we should stop bringing it up? Not the war that literally just happened. Your career. Your world title reign that happened four years ago. Your Outlaw reign not long after. The more I look at you, the more I realize you are exactly like the legends I faced before. Clinging to the things they did so long ago. To the legacy that they built. Using it to build themselves up and to be given title shots and main events that they don’t deserve. Still living in that haze that was your glory days. But those days are long fucking gone, Aria. You are no longer at the top of your game. Coming back to OWA was a mistake. And making your way onto Odyssey and stepping into the ring with me? It will be fucking tragic for your career. Because the world will see that Aria Jaxon is no longer the quintessential women’s wrestler. You are no longer the top of the mountain.

You’ve fallen off. And you’re so self obsessed that you can’t see it. You can’t see that the problem isn’t a mental block. It’s not that you are scared of your own legacy. The problem isn’t inside your head. A mental block is a fucking cope. Your problem is in your body. It’s the same thing that happens to all legends. You don’t think you can be touched by the new class. But you can. Your body isn’t what it used to be. The new class has surpassed you. I have picked up accolades quicker than you ever could. I have surpassed you in and out of the ring! And it has nothing to do with your mind. You can keep telling yourself that those two losses mean nothing to you. But they are a sign. A sign of who you are now. A failure.

I can’t decide if you are a shell of what you used to be. Or if you were simply never that good. Has the skill level changed so severely that you can’t keep up anymore, Aria? It’s a good thing that Cloud told you not to worry about what other people’s expectations of your career are. Because you’ve done nothing but shit the bed since you came back. You have let EVERYONE down. And you have no one to blame but yourself.

What are you going to do this week when you can’t cry fuckery or distraction? When there is no one to blame for your faults. Not a mental block. Not a physical barrier. Just the raw truth that Aria Jaxon does not measure up to the Undisputed Whore. That I changed the brand that you crafted in your image and made it something that you can’t even compare to. That I am the game changer. That I am the standard bearer. And that I am the gatekeeper. You can kick down my door and come on in. But I will yakuza kick your fat ass right back through it where you fucking belong. Off my show and in the goddamn shadows.

It’s a good thing that you found solace in being a wife and mother. Because once I am done with you, you won’t be able to show your face in this industry anymore. Go back home. Get in the kitchen. Make your husband a sandwich. Hold your baby tight. And let your future wash over you. That this is all you are now. Wife. Mother. Nothing else. The glory is gone. The gold is gone. The career you once clung to? You don’t belong here anymore.

The whores have taken over and the queen’s monarchy has been upended. Odyssey is gone. Thotyssey is forever.”

Scott Oasis, Jeff X, Matsuda, Alyssa Grace, The Banshee, Darkane, 'Don' Hendrix and have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos May 19th 2023, 11:57 pm by **VaeVictisBD**

I WROTE THIS ON MY PHONE II.
FUCKING END ME.

"I compete because what else is there?

What more is there than fighting for glory in front of the world?

If there is more, why would I need it?

God, I really am starting to sound like that decrepit bitter fuck. The point I’m trying to make is fighting for one’s life is all that life is. There is no profound reason, there doesn’t need to be one. Ask anyone why they’ve stepped into an OWA ring; either they’ll come up with some super elaborate lie to huff their own superiority farts, or they’ll be completely honest and admit it’s just because they wanted to. That’s all the answer there ever needs to be. I could be doing a fuck tonne of other occupations in this timeline to make a difference in the world. But I’m going to level with you, that shits boring to me. Sure I could use my knowledge of the future to completely overthrow whatever pitiful empire Elon Musk has built himself, but that just doesn’t have the same adrenaline rush I get from kicking the shit out of annoying cunts. And I’ve been denied plenty of opportunity to do that lately, and I’m not entirely thrilled to have been dusted off months after I was cheated out of the Spartans Championship. That has been silently pissing me off for a while now and, although Noah brought the championship to CATCH Hound, I am also frustrated that I never got the opportunity to redeem a bullshit loss and dethrone Ecclestone myself. I’m not someone who likes leaving loose ends, especially for others to tie for me. My only loss since I joined has been that dogshit technicality and fuck off if you think I’m going to count that as anything but an asterisk in the record book. They made a graphic for me and everything just to say sike :dead:. Violations aside, I’ve been left to my own devices to vent this frustrations, just waiting for the opportunity to come knocking at my door to let me showcase a world of difference between a CATCH Hound competitor with something to prove and anyone else on the Kingdom roster.

And as I said previous, I’m not entirely satisfied with the chaff they’ve offered.

I’ve already harped on about Theodor and what little he brought to the table, it still confuses me why he stuck with the Front Line when he was clearly just another waving the flag. Don’t get me wrong, the Front Line should be regarded as heros for their intention, their heart, and their bravery — qualities that I don’t see prominent in Theo at all. He’s retiring from the ring, wrote out this cute little sob story about how much everyone means to him, how much he appreciated the opportunity, how he’s giving it all for one final match — some of the most soft cunt shit I’ve ever heard in my life, honestly. I do think it’s an admirable quality in a man to know when their time is done, to give up when they have nothing left to fight for, to have peace and tranquility in their life when it what they sorely need. But for glass ceiling Outlaw Champion Theodor Pavel, complained that CATCH Hound were interested in sharpening him like a finer blade than what he presented, tries to offer his insight to what I am capable of? Fuck off. You were given a rare invitation to sit beneath the learning tree of the Big Boss, a man who actually was something in this company, and get past this “I’m pretty good at MMA, guys” shtick. Why your career ended before you reached an elite level was the arrogance and allowance to become complacent. You stand with incredible talent, association can do a lot of heavy lifting, but to be happy with the Yamcha role of the Frontline and to have that be your long-lasting legacy? I hate to call it pitiful but it is. But to pity someone who retired at the height of their full potential, or rather all the potential they were willing to reach, is pity wasted a self-gimped afterthought. How many actively fondly regale the history of Jacob Knight in the Frontline? Not exactly something to strive for, but you're about on that level.

What the Frontline ultimately lacks is discipline.

Now, I am all about the hedonist lifestyle, Jeff and I are some solid fucking drinking buddies that go long after last call, but he is an enabler. I know this. I doubt he’s oblivious to it. Do you have any idea how many opportunities Thotyssey had to get the Women’s World Championship from Diantha but we’re far more concerned about getting cock? (God, I wish it were me. OWA Promos - Page 4 331902765

) Chances are, Diantha would’ve already been far back out of the title picture if they displayed some discipline. (Not that kind of discipline, you craven sexpest.) and Chris, despite how much I review about being carried by Havoc, and how you’ve been carried by Jeff; I don’t hate you, man. Let’s not pretend your best moments — best in terms of paramount victories — in OWA aren’t a byproduct of someone or something helping you out in some capacity. Who won the World Championship? Sure wasn’t Christopher Sabertooth. But I feel for you. You have had a raw deal since the very beginning. You had Olympus season one for fuck sake, not a lot of time to cut your teeth there. Then you got possessed by a demon, became a meat puppet having your strings pulled to be the villain, die, be resurrected, have a demon possess your wife, have Jeff die — you’ve been fucking through it, my man. But of all those things, and all the solutions that made them go away, how many are directly contributed to you? See, that’s the problem I have. The Frontline has been a project to protect OWA from the otherworldly, the destroyers, or just about any cunt wanting to step out of line. But how often do the Frontline step out of line? Who will protect the OWA from the Frontline?

The answer? CATCH Hound.

Care to admit it or not, the problems that corrupt OWA started from somewhere. And that progenitor was you. Havoc spawned from you, and the snowball has been growing bigger and bigger until eventually, you’re not going to be able to catch it. Again, I respect you for your intentions. I respect you for wanting to find a solution to the problem. But you do not have any reason to speak down to me when your entire career has been in the passenger seat. I’m just gonna say it how I see it; Jeff wouldn’t have needed to sacrifice himself — as little as it means now that apparently he can just say no thank you to the concept of death — had you done it instead. What you lack is responsibility. Are you surrounded yourself with a group of people that will not hold you responsible for what you did in the past, they will not hold you responsible for any action you take going forward, they will go to bad for you, even if it means they’ll die in the process. I don’t want that shit for them. Even though all of them have come back from death so inconsequentially the prospect doesn’t even really feel like there is consequence for anything anymore, what happens when one day it sticks? We thought Jeff’s would stick. We thought the death of Bishop would stick, you traveled to my timeline and we fought off Golden Dawn forces to get him back. Again, who will protect us from the Frontline when that time comes? Because I don’t think you will.

For someone who heralds themselves as the truth-seer, you’re pretty blind to the vacuous crap you speak.

But that is in the trade that is exclusive to you. You know, when I came back to this timeline, I never considered the possibility that I would ever even have to hear the name of Moongoose McQueen. Oh, I have heard stories. I have heard many tales of how deep that dumb shit rabbit hole goes, and I thought a lot of it was just a scare tactic or over exaggerated. After doing my own research, I start to understand why so many elect to be blissfully ignorant, as being educated to wired loop of incoherence and thoughts no man should allow past the filter of their brain, I understand more than I should have ever been asked to know. Like my man, did you really Jack an entire excerpt from a Batman vs Deadpool comic book? I’m not even offended by your levels of gallivanting stupidity like it’s something to be proud of, more fascinated than anything else. I would call you a spastic but I don’t think in this timeline they tend to live as long as you have. I’m not going to go through the pointless effort of reminding you how often my great great great grandfather batter the fuck out of you at one point in your career to the point that it was almost embarrassing to even consider it to be a defining rivalry of the year it happened, but it seems the heights you found as OWA World Champion were not only temporary, but the golden watch for a year of… persistence, let’s call it persistence. And whatever this is, whatever chameleon ability has allowed you to change ethnicity, whatever touring circus this run is supposed to afford you, I can’t imagine it’s anything that would yield results.

Like great great great grandfather, like great great great grandson.

A Wakefield going to put McQueen in the mud.

Clash of the Titans is going to be a defining moment in someone’s career. It’s going to be a night with the landscape changes so rapidly and so catastrophically, I can’t help but feel a little reckless. I can’t help but feel a little confidence in the idea that one night can change everything so drastically, that Arthur Wakefield OWA World Champion, sounds like the impossible becoming the very possible. And to that end, I’m in the profession of carving my name in the fabric of history.”

Matsuda, Alyssa Grace and 'Don' Hendrix have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos May 19th 2023, 11:55 pm by **Moongoose McQueen**

I wrote this on my computer. Goes to show just how much more lazier I am than Finn. Top that, you son of a bitch!

Alright, Lets get down to the nitty gritty, because I don’t have a lot of time. If it aint clear alright, with this preview of the Clash match that is happening, watch it. Cancel any plans you had that evening, tell that thot move outta of the way, tell grandma you’ll need to visit another evening, tell your boss to shut the hell up and to eat ass, because Moongoose McQueen is wrestling,

I mean, I’m sure you are still asking, why is he back? Why is he here? And if I have to be honest with you all, I don’t really know. All I know is, I got the call, the asked me “Goose, I need you to work OWA 5, the Clash, and whatever you can. I beg you.” And that was it. I came, and while I didn’t win the advantage nor the Outlaw Championship, I think we can all read between the lines and context, and just say it. Between Finn’s great great great great nephew, treacherous Japanese David Bowie, and NoahCube, you all don’t got it in you to carry this company to the greatness that I’ve managed to accomplish.

You three wouldn’t even be here, in this clash if it wasn’t for me, because before I signed and become the world champion, OWA was on the path of being just like every other federation pushing the same agenda being the greatest wrestling company ever. No, Omega Wrestling Alliance is in fact one of the greatest entertaining wrestling in the whole planet, because of the risks I’ve taken in retaliation of the norm. I may not win every match. I may not win every battle. But ultimately, I win where it matters most, and I can say without a shadow of the doubt, I beat OWA and turned this entire company into my bitch, molded it, shaped it, and it’s still going strong. Because of …ME!

Perhaps you children need a lesson, but if we have to be honest, I don’t think you are all worth my time. Noah Krieger has no reason to respect me, but son, I’m afraid it’s the other way around. You see, respect is earned, and my world title reign and hall of fame ring here prove I’ve done the work. Obviously, you don’t care, so if there is one lesson I’ve learned, don’t try to convince anyone that has made up their mind. I’m sure whether I kick your ass or not, you won’t acknowledge me or anyone. I’m sure you will find some other excuse, but I can tell you’ll lean towards “luck.” But I can assure you, it wasn’t… “luck.” Luck doesn’t make plans. Luck doesn’t get himself in the position he needs to be. And Luck doesn’t put down Kenny Fuckin Drake for the 3 count.If my entire success was based on luck, then Noah, you better grab that rabbits foot, those lucky charms, say your prayers or whatever superstitious bullshit ritual you have, because I’m about to, fortunately, find a way to take this foot, and miraculously shove it up …. Your ass. Because I’m sure the gods or fate must will this, after all, what could Noah Krieger done to possibly deserve this? As I’ve told many of the people who have cross my path, “you’re in the wrong place and the wrong time.” What possible roll of the dice could lead to this? What can you roll to get out of it? And I’ll tell you…. It doesn’t matter. Because when I play, it’s my rules, my game, and the house always wins, baby! The “respect” you refuse to give me, I don’t want it. I don’t need it. In the end, the only thing I want, is your spirit, so I can break it. Can’t say I’ve met anyone that had a reason to give that to me, so I suppose I can just take it.

Speaking of the wrong place and the wrong time… Arthur Wakefield. Great great great grandson of Finn and Alyssa. Surprised that even went anywhere. I’ve fought him multiple times in the past, Finnigan. Easily one of the greatest adversaries of mine, pushing me to a technical level just as I pushed him to get out of it. In the end, I never quite broke his spirit. If anything, it pushed him further. It made him stronger. I suppose the big question is, Arty. Has that spirit and consistency skipped a generation or two or not. Based on your aura, you are nowhere near the same level of your ancestor. I can feel his presence from across the room, that aura, that confidence, that raw energy, but from you, just a pathetic sad version of it that feels…. Best way I can describe it, day old, left out of the fridge, but then heated up in a microwave where it’s all as soggy a limp dick. Ah yes, compared to Finnigan, Arthur, you are not even a cheap imitation, but dare I say a low quality parody. Makes me wonder if you are even legit, or perhaps there something wrong with the Grace bloodline. I really don’t look forward to facing you. Don’t mistaken that for being a coward, but rather, I’m not sure if I’m ready for the disappointment of knowing that this and going forward will be the new generation of so called “talent.” I would be so disappointed that two of OWA most decorated champions can produce something as weak as you. Imagine, coming all the way to this time period to stop the Golden Dawn, because I suppose everyone here in the present time who made it their goal to stop them failed to do so centuries later. Looking at your Frontlines. Honestly, I’m not surprised by the incompetency of your great great great grandfather or MYOJIN of stopping the Golden Dawns, because it really does sound like Finn to believe that that best way to stop a terrorist organization is to “wrestle them.” Like geez wiz, golly, that has to work!” Surely, after all this time, 3 generations of Wakefields later, you have learned that well…. That just ain’t how the real world works you dumbass! So you can see why I question your so-called “history.” And again, I don’t look forward to wrestling with you, because it would be like taking on the fillet of pinnacle wrestling that is Finnigan Wakefield, and then eating a seasonless bland bake potato to follow up. I have far too much respect for Finnigan as a rival. And here you are. Makes me wonder, should I do him and Alyssa the favor of ending whatever relationship they have so the chances of them producing more copies of you, Imagine, there are multiple Arthur Wakefields throughout the multiverse! And this one looks like he can barely wrestle out of a paper bag. Have you actually spoken to them? Have they told you how proud they are of you? I don’t care for this constant tampering of time and parallel universes, but it needs to stop. I don’t know what Golden Dawn does in 2150, but you need to stay in your own damn timelane. To think Finnigan Wakefield and Alyssa Grace can help create one of the biggest dumb fucks to endanger the entire universe as we know it. Like what happened between generation? Your great great grandmother fucked Nate Cage or something? Do tell me he ends up losing his virginity at some point. Sure, he had a “wife,” but… come on… If you got Nate Cage in your bloodline, that explain a lot.

As for MYOJIN, sigh. So I see you are still one of the biggest snake in the business. You ran out of people to work with, you have to resort to the third Noah and someone from the fuckin’ future. You sure have a reputation, I mean, I still remember when you signed with the company and picked on Ryo for no reason. You are easily the most self-centered, egotistical star on the roster, you probably think that song “you’re so vein” is about you. I mean, coming here, bragging about the Outlaw Championship you are so proud of, but yet, its almost as if you refuse to acknowledge OWA on your little social media account. Are you ashame of OWA? Do you not like what OWA has become after I won the world title and changed the landscape forever? Honestly, that is easily the most disrespectful thing I ever seen. Stay for the championships and the push, but pretend THIS doesn’t exist. Is this what it too you? Is the Clash just another thing you can add to your resume, but discreetly cross out the OWA? Why are you even here? I’ve said it before, I don’t give a shit about the Outlaw Championship. If you think I’m gonna be discouraged losing that and my first match in 2 years. You are mistaken. I didn’t come back for some low tier championship. I came back because OWA needed me, after all, what can OWA do with you three chuckle fucks whom only ambitions are revenge, titles, to prove your worth. The biggest reason why I am one of the biggest name in this company is because i went out of my way to say with 100% certainty that “MOONGOOSE MCQUEEN…. IS……OWA!”

When every opposition pushed me back, I pushed harder knowing that if I gone to any other company, I could just as easily win a few titles, beat a couple of big names, and dare I say, “destroy the Golden Dawns,” but I chose OWA because I saw who were the top guys. I saw Scott Oasis, CM Nas, Finnigan Wakefield, all these people who would never want to see me as the face of the business. Because you want to know something, MYOJIN, I’m not like you. I don’t backstab people because it’s the easiest thing to do. I don’t aim low for Outlaw championships reigns. If you want to fight for it forever and pad your stats, by all means, but its the damn fact that you seem to hate OWA so much, but you are here! I get it, because I hated OWA, I signed here…. But unlike you, I changed it where you continue to self-loathe and pretend you being here is important.

But here you are, about to face guys that as much as I don’t want to say it, I respect. Chris, Teddy. We have actually gone out of our way to carry this company on our backs… well for Teddy… he carried Frontlines….. Luggages I assume. But doesn’t matter. He has shown not how badly he wants to win the world title, but how much he wants to be here. And honestly, it was a damn mistake to let you be in OWA for so long, giving you all these opportunities, and to show for it, you go online, promote all your other matches and shows, but OWA, nothing. Now I know everyone likes to say “I want to win the Clash.” But for me, I think I’ll say, “I want MYOJIN to fuckin lose the Clash.” because the last fuckin thing I want is for you to get the opportunity everyone wants and too not acknowledge it, because that’s just the type of sociopath and narcissist you are. I mean look at you, aligning yourself with a guy that should be like … negative 70 years old. Does Arthur even have a birth certificate or social security to be working here? Are you grooming this man to help you beat the Golden Dawns? You sick … FREAK! You disgust me!

I have an obligation. To those that don’t want my return, go suck on Scott Oasis’ freakishly petite nipples.WE have an obligation, Chris… and sure, Pavel, to make sure that OWA is in good hands. After all, we played a part in the most critical point of OWA history, and we are not gonna let these three make it a moot point OWA’s story. They come here with no respect. Arthur off the name success of his great great great grandparents. Noah, who has shown no respect for the blood, sweat, and tears, we have put into this business. And MYOJIN, the worse one of them all, whom has played his role, only to hope that no one outside of OWA is aware of what he has done. This man had the audacity to put Project Honor ahead of OWA?! If you don’t want to be here, I’m sure Chris and Teddy can all agree, we don’t want you here either. So how about we show you the door, and after that, Chris, Teddy, and I beat the living shit out of each other at the Clash for that World Championship main event at Final Destination? How does that sound?! Damn right that will put more asses in those seats than whatever MYOJIN, Noah, and Arthur can do. Don’t mistaken this for nostalgia, ladies and gentlemen. This… is evolution, and I’m back to take OWA to new heights like only Moongoose McQueen can! Just you wait and see!

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

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