OWA Promos

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

- Promo deadlines are two days before the show (So, a Saturday show has a Thursday deadline for example.) The only exception is Atlantis which allows for a day before.

-If everyone involved in a match would like to extend or shorten the promo limit due to personal circumstances or preference, you have two days at the start of the new promo week to confirm with a member of the writing team the agreed upon limit for your match, if not it will remain the standard limit set for bi-weeklies and major shows.

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

-The page is not a place to make challenges or try to book matches!

-Do not break kayfabe! Remember that everything is entirely storyline based and there is no reason to either take things personally, or make it personal for someone else.

-Have fun! Enjoy writing your work and feel free to hit up the chat for feedback!

Re: OWA Promos April 28th 2023, 10:55 pm by **Dr. Bethany Hastings**

CONTROL

A scorching sun shines down on the yard of the Estrella Jail, a women’s only penitentiary in Maricopa County, where a brawl is taking place… or was until recently. It appears to be just wrapping up now, as a large Mexican woman has another inmate in a chokehold from behind. On the ground around her are a number of fallen bodies, either unconscious or in extreme pain.

A crowd of convicts cheer or shout threats as they watch, and upon closer inspection the Mexican woman is recognizable as Leona, but visibly younger and with short hair. Three COs rush the scene, armed with more than just batons. One racks a shotgun at Leona, who stares blankly down the barrel of the weapon before she relents, releasing her victim from the rear choke and putting her hands behind her head. Even with the woman cooperating, the guards are very hesitant to take any further action, as they whisper back and forth about who has to handcuff her this time.

Observing all this from within the comfortable, air-conditioned confines of the prison, is Dr. Bethany Hastings, her face missing about five years of stress and anger, but otherwise looking the same. She stares wide-eyed at the scene unfolding outside, fixated on the muscular woman who had just dispatched a handful of attackers. Beside her is the warden of this facility, who seems more interested in the Doctor’s reaction to all this, than watching the fight itself.

“Who is that…?” asks Bethany, almost breathlessly.

“That big bitch? Hell, Dtoc, you don’t want to mess around with her. Some kind of cartel type, we’re still working on extraditing her, but you know how long that shit takes. She’s only been here a few months, and she’s put three of my damn guards in the infirmary. Let’s not even get into how many inmates she’s assaulted, we’ll be here all day if I start in on that count.”

“She’s perfect,” replies Dr. Hastings, ignoring everything the warden had just said. She doesn’t even look at him. Only at Leona, who is now being forced to her knees at gunpoint as one guard steps forward to cuff her.

“Perfect for what? The fucking electric chair?”

“No. I need to speak with her. Alone.”

“…shit. Well, it’s your call, Doc. But if you want to talk to Lopez, we’d best get out there quick before one of my men puts her down for good.”

“Lopez? No, that won’t do. I have something better in mind. But that’s none of your concern. Quickly, bring her to an interview room... if you want me to keep volunteering my time at this facility, that is.”

Dr. Hastings smiles, a cold, calculating expression without any sign of joy or happiness. The hardened prison official beside her feels something he hasn’t in a long time: a chill running down his spine.

Power.

A single word that encapsulates what everyone in this materialistic society desires above all else. Above money, above fame, and far, far above such forgotten, abandoned notions like true love or a healthy community. Be they merchants or paupers, royalty or peasants, politicians or plebs, everyone wants it… and if they already possess it, they only want more. Take it from me, I’ve been around Washington long enough to know that much.

How ironic, then, that the concept itself is so widely misunderstood. Power can’t be found in raw, physical strength. It can’t be found in intellectual brilliance, or the ability to endure hardships that would break the common man, or even in the capacity for bloody, savage brutality. Those who look to gain power in such a manner will find themselves grasping nothing but air, for one cannot hope to attain something that they cannot conceive the true source of.

Power – real power, not some faint illusion – can only be found in control. Control over oneself… but more importantly, control over others.

Take my loyal bodyguard Leona as an example. You know her as my doting servant, the woman who puts herself in harms’ way to do my bidding. Possessing an imposing physique that dwarfs my own, and any of the other women on Odyssey for that matter. A mindless brute, once following the orders of career criminals and living solely to achieve their nefarious ends, without qualms or morality… or even the semblance of a conscience.

And now? Now she serves me, following at my heels like a guard dog, and doing what I tell her to… without so much as entertaining a single thought of questioning my orders. A woman who once struck fear and terror in the hearts of hardened killers now she does only what I tell her to do… and believe me, ladies, she would do anything I say.

Anything.

I’ve tamed a wild beast, without even resorting to threats of violence or torture. I accomplished it with something greater than that: rhetoric and logic. My words burrowed into a mind numbed by bloodshed and pain, and transformed her from a cartel thug to someone willing to die for me. And kill for me, if it came to that.

Only me.

Bending the will of someone far stronger than myself into a shape that pleases me, so that she might help me achieve my own goals… without offering back anything to her beyond a lifetime of servitude and a purpose.

That’s control. That’s power.

So the idea that I’m supposed to be intimidated by you, Ellie, is a joke. And not even a funny one. You can swing that bat around and run that potty mouth as much as you’d like, but it’s not going to make me fear you… and it won’t get you the respect from your peers that you so desperately crave. Because I know that’s what you’re after, underneath your plastic punk exterior. You’re not about the struggle. You’re not a real rebel.

Your whole act is a costume, and everybody knows it. The things you claim make you a threat to the system have been co-opted long ago by the very same corporate, capitalist society you claim to hate so much. But you’re not alone in carrying water for the same machine you think you’re raging against. The entire political left in this country have been manipulated and gaslit by the very same place they once tried to Occupy. I refer, of course, to Wall Street.

You think me and my fellow patriots are the enemy? Why, because you’ve been told so by the Bank of America, Starbucks, and Budweiser? You think because these places fly a Pride flag one month out of the year, tweeting out some BLM hashtags – or whatever the current divisive, inorganic, manufactured movement happens to be – that they’re your friends? That they’re allies? That they’re not just pandering to you, to cover for the fact that they’re the ones truly ruining this country?

You moronic child.

Fortunately, I’m not disappointed, if only because I’ve lowered my expectations for you and your ilk so low that you couldn’t possibly manage to fall beneath them.

On a more positive note, I must congratulate you on your newfound, claimed sobriety... although I, admittedly, have my doubts about how long that will last. And even without casting doubt on your words, I'm worried that you’ve already done so much damage to your mind, and your body, that there’s no hope of recovery. Oh, and since I’m taking a few moments to address some of your nonsensical statements, I’d like to assure you that I do my own writing, despite whatever slanderous claims the talking heads on MSNBC make to the contrary.

That being said, I fully admit to growing up in a privileged environment. My parents were both gainfully employed, not addicted to drugs or booze, and remained together throughout my childhood. No grand tragedies to blame for all my failures, no vicious, repressed memories in place of an actual personality. My mother and father focused on the family unit, and the importance of tradition, and I prospered because of that. I make no claims otherwise. Now, rather than using that to attack me, one would think you might want the same for the poor, disadvantaged children growing up in broken, poverty-stricken homes around the country… but no, there’s no room for true empathy in the modern Liberal mindset. All your brain cells – the few you people have – are used solely to parrot partisan talking points and political attacks on the honest, hard-working Americans who simply want to get by and raise their children in a functional, healthy society.

It’s no wonder, then, that you offer no real solutions to the issues plaguing this nation. You can’t build anything… you can only hope to tear it down. Just like you want to undo down my reign as Sparks champion simply for the sake of destruction, rather than out of some desire to create something of your own.

And that will be your downfall, Ellie. Unlike me, you hate the wrong people for the wrong reasons. Your mind is poisoned by Twitter and CNN talking points, trained by the corrupt men destroying this country to do their bidding against your own best interests. You don’t even know what you’re fighting for, do you? You can’t comprehend the true nature of the battle being waged in this country, can you?

Don’t answer. I already know my estimation of you is an accurate one.

The fact that you claim all my success came solely from the intervention of others just proves that you’re as blind as every other bought and paid-for Antifa goon. Sure, my family wrote the check to Yale, but I passed the tests to get me accepted there. And when I was in those hallowed Ivy League halls, I performed above and beyond, both academically and athletically. But I suppose achievement isn’t something you would understand, is it? No, you can’t conceive of real, meaningful struggle. Just blind nihilism.

Not to mention the hypocrisy of it all, coming from you. You claim I take shortcuts, that I’ve only succeeded because of others… yet, the only time the name ‘Ellie Quinn’ ever meant a thing was when you were running around behind Lazarus Arjen, eating whatever scraps he saw fit to toss your way. So where do you get off speaking to me like that, I wonder? Not that I would expect you to take even a moment to reflect on yourself… most likely you’re terrified of what you might find, if you did.

You say you’re tired of having everything taken away from you… and yet, you won’t put in the work to become strong enough to prevent it from happening in the first place. No, all you’re willing to do is grab a baseball bat as a prop, pull some cartoonish mean face, and bitch and moan about your lot in life, blaming everyone but the person who is actually responsible for your plight: yourself.

Now, you’ve rushed to face someone who will take away the very last thing you have: the final shred of self-respect you’ve been clinging to with every ounce of your failing, malnourished strength. With a bit of luck, I’ll be able to break what little pride remains in the feeble mind of poor little Ellie Quinn, and send you scurrying back to whatever dumpster you crawled out of.

I don’t doubt that you’re willing to hurt me above and beyond what’s required for a simple wrestling match. You’ve already proven you can swing a bat… at an unexpecting victim. But let’s say you’re a threat, despite all concrete evidence to the contrary. You think you scare me? I’ve looked into the eyes of murderers, conmen, and politicians on both sides of the aisle. The scum of the earth. Compared to them, you’re small-time. So keep up your pointless, make-believe rebellious act if you must. Just don’t expect me to sit here and act frightened, because you’ll be waiting a long time.

Onto someone who, if nothing else, deserves some small amount of respect. Bea, let me say that I appreciate the kind words. For all our differences, and there are many, I can acknowledge that you are one of the few truly impressive women on the brand, if not in the entire sport. Most individuals would be satisfied with achieving such a magnificent physique, but you’ve also built quite the little following for yourself, haven’t you? The Bea Hive, was it? Clever branding, I must say, though I’m sure you didn’t come up with it yourself.

There is some noble quality in being so unabashedly self-absorbed. If nothing else, you know your value, and I must give you your due for elevating yourself above the Ellies and Jessicas of the world. But that’s all the credit I plan on giving you, so don’t go sniffing around for more crumbs from my table.

I spoke earlier about controlling others. It’s what elevates us above the masses, isn’t it? You’ve certainly accomplished that much… but the real measure of a master is the quality of their underlings, and how wise and benevolent their leadership is… and you come up short in both areas. Well below a failing grade, I’m sad to say.

The only thing more pathetic than people like you, are those that follow you. Spamming likes and subscribes in some vain hope that they might absorb a fraction of your social standing by osmosis. A fandom composed of failures and petty, grasping social climbers is your pride and joy? Such individuals are not the strong, firm building blocks upon which a lasting empire is built, Ms. Havertz. Like the tragic tale of Ozymandias, your social media legacy will not last the test of time. Your image that you take so much pride in? It’s nothing more than a mirage, an illusion crafted just well enough to fool the rotted minds of Internet-addicted losers, but nobody of any real substance.

Everyone who matters in this world can see right through you. You’ll never belong on the upper crust of society, always doomed to be staring up at that glass ceiling underneath the real elites. Stuck swimming in the filth of influencer culture, never able to break through to real, meaningful fame or fortune.

So go back to leading your flock astray. Continue to teach those foolish enough to follow your word all the wrong lessons. Show them how to Be Like Bea: irrelevant, mediocre, and soon-to-be forgotten.

Now, there is one last person. And she’s proving to be something of a mystery, though I don’t doubt it’s all some attempt to conjure up an air of mystique and importance. I do have to wonder if Jessica’s silence is her attempt to fly under my radar. A specter, a ghost, like her little moniker. An interesting strategy, I must admit, particularly in an industry known for an over abundance of talkers. In a way it’s almost refreshing to be met with a wall of silence from the returning veteran. At least she’s sparing me the pain of hearing her voice.

So keep your secrets for now, Jessica. It doesn’t matter, because I’m very good at making my patients open up. You’ll talk, even if I have to drag the words out of your mouth myself. But enough about what passes for opposition in this place, let’s look to the future for a moment, shall we?

Omega Wrestling Alliance is turning five. A big landmark in any life. The halcyon days of childhood are ending, and the days of accountability are beginning. No longer can these hideous displays of excess and debauchery be forgiven as the growing pains of a young company. Now they’re seen for what they really are, which is genuine flaws that need to be corrected.

A bright, new day for the greatest wrestling company in America… which, by default, makes it the greatest in the world, doesn’t it? It’s a second chance for Scott Oasis’ legacy to become something worthy of remembrance, something better than a blood-soaked, overly sexualized sideshow. Something pure instead of tainted and corrupt. A credit to the nation, instead of a detriment.

Of course, no great change has ever come without a battle of some sort or another… be it intellectual, spiritual, or physical. I don’t expect my path to be an easy one, but nothing worth doing comes without obstacles. And so, the march of conquest continues, and once I’ve proven myself truly worthy of this championship, once I defeat the three women Llorona has assembled in an effort to rob me of what’s rightfully mine… once the fifth anniversary of this company has come and gone, and a new era has truly begun for the Omega Wrestling Alliance…

…well, that’s when things finally get interesting.

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

Re: OWA Promos April 28th 2023, 10:43 pm by **JosieGreyEsq**

Pendleton, OR, USA
Chemin de terre, Camionnette Chevrolet 1987
0430, jeudi

Dust kicks up as the old pickup truck roars like a bat out of hell down the old dirt road. The sun rises over the mountains, casting the sky in a beautiful pink. Inside the truck, Ace of Base roars from the stereo, with the driver singing along like a psycho. I mean…she IS a psycho…so I guess it all works.

JOSIE GREY, as always accompanied by her Belgian Mal and best friend Rasputin, nods her head to the beat. Her sunglasses only have the right eye glass in. Rasputin hangs his head out the window, sleeping peacefully in the morning sun. He has grown accustomed to Josie’s belting of songs, but that doesn’t mean he enjoys it.

…he likes it when she sings Edith Piaf, though…that’s a good one for him.

This…however…is not Edith Piaf.

“IIIIII SAW THE SIIIII-EE-YINE/AND IT OPENED UP MY EYES/I SAW THE SI-EE-YINE/NO ONES GONNA DRAGYOUUP/TAKEUHYOUINTOTHELIFETHAT YOOOOOU beLOOOONG…the world that yoooooou beLOOOng…Wuh-wuh-wuh…wuh UHHH OH! Come on, Ras! Sing with me! IIIIIII SAW THE SIGN! It makes NO fucking sense! Howl with me!”

Rasputin slowly raises his head and turns to Josie, before picking himself up and moving to the backseat.

…fair enough…douchebagdog…guessyouregonnahavetosnuggleyerSELFtonightaintya…ungratefullittle…cutiepatootie…fuckin…mutt.

Josie’s PETA infuriating tirade is interrupted by her phone vibrating on the dashboard. She grabs at it lifts up her one-glass sunglasses…

Oh, it’s Gwen Harper! …she says to herself and her dog…

Josie presses the call button on her phone and puts Gwen on speakerphone…

HIIIIIIIII BIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITCH!

…what?

Isn’t that how girls who are friends say hello? Call each other mean names and yell?

…Josie…

YOU PROMISED YOU WOULDN’T DO THAT AGAIN! Stop it! Just…FINISH your sentence! Don’t make me hang by my toes with anticipation, and then ultimately be let down.

…are you there yet?

No, not yet, Gwen Harper. I am about…I dunno…300 or so seconds from the location.

Ok, and I’VE told YOU to just say things in MINUTES.

I AM EUROPEAN, and I use the METRIC system, and I am SORRY that your silly little teenager country with no real culture of its own doesn’t understand what the entire world does already.

…the fucking metric system…that’s what you’re going with…

Me, and the rest of the world…literally.

…Jesus Christ…

I know. I am best teacher in whole world, Gwen Harper. I am perfect teammate.

Wellll, we’ll see about that still. Call me when you’re settled in at the location and we can discuss the match further.

…wait, so we’re not going to chat?

…why? Do you want to chat?

Duhhhh, Gwen Harper…we’re super powered best friends. I always wanna chat.

…ok…um…how’s the weather th-

Ok I’m here gotta go. Byeeeee.

Oh FUCK YOU JOclick

Josie hangs up and brings the truck to a screeching halt in a large driveway, the tires kicking up a huge cloud of dust. The truck sits idle as the gravel settles underneath its tires…the dust begins to settle…

KENNY DRAKE stands in front of the truck, arms crossed over his chest. The truck is mere feet away from him. Josie hops out of the truck, and Rasputin follows her.

She strides up to Kenny and stares him in the eyes. The two share the gaze for a moment, before Josie steps into a loving hug from Kenny. He plants a brotherly kiss on the top of her head as she hugs him back.

…you’re late.

I know. I wanted to make you wait.

Kenny chuckles and hugs her tighter before breaking the embrace. He wraps his arm around her shoulder and leads her towards Heaven’s Den…

Come on…let’s get you settled in. Sid is dying to see you.

Josie smiles and walks alongside Kenny towards the Main House, Rasputin traipsing beside her.

I have you set up in the war rooms, with the rest of the soldiers. I know you asked for no special treatment, but…if you’d like, or are more comfortable, we can build you a shack in the fields out there…

Josie scoffs and glares at Kenny. He smirks.

…I know how much you love shacks nowadays.

The war rooms will be fine, thank you. When can we get started with training?

Whenever you’d like. I have this OWA title match, so the training room is already set up. Niki’s already said she’d love to work with you on your boxing and Muay Thai…it’s really all up to you.

Josie stops and smiles. She looks around Heaven’s Den…at the robe clad members, at the rebuilt houses and the Barn…she suddenly turns to Kenny and nods slightly.

…Carpe diem, mon amie…Carpe diem.

Kenny smirks, and gestures towards the gym.

Carpe diem, petite soeur…

===L==A===C=H=A=S=S=E===S=A=U=V=A=G=E===

==========INSERT VHS==========

[PLAY]

The interior of a barrack. Bunk beds with white sheets on cold metal frames. The room feels cold, even through the camera. It is empty and quiet.

This changes, however, as a figure in forest camo and a black tank top strolls into frame. She walks up the camera and adjusts it slightly, before backing up, revealing her face. Josie pulls her hair back and ties it into a bun before grabbing a nearby metal chair, and dragging it towards the center of the room, staring into the camera as the chair legs screech against the cement floor. She drags it for what feels like an eternity, before finally picking it up and slamming it down dramatically. She slowly sits…and smiles.

…Bonjour…

I believe…the last time anybody saw me…in a competitive capacity…I was in a slap fight with a cocaine riddled grizzly bear. So…you’re probably sitting there, asking yourself out loud, “Hey…me…how is SHE, the coolest and most talented and totally badass Josie Grey, sitting THERE, not being the k word, since apparently saying Killed is a cardinal sin.” If you haven’t already, go ahead…take a second to ask yourself…

…we good? Ok.

AH, so funny you should ask. I’m not KILLED…because I am fucking awesome. There’s your answer. The BEAR? You have to ask yourself…why is HE not in a tag title match at OWA5? Well, that’s because he is…killed. Gus the cocaine riddled bear is dead, and I have to say, it was going to happen inevitably. You can’t live that lifestyle and not be…like…dead very soon after, ya know?

Anyway…what was I talking about…

OH…YES. Ok.

You all watching this…are extremely fortunate. Well…most of you. There are four people specifically who are NOT…at ALL fortunate…but we’ll get to them later. The rest of you…you all get to revel in what is about to come. Josie Grey, the Prodigy…and Gwen Harper, the Appalachian Huntress…The Wolf and the Bear…with a COMMON enemy. You all at home…and everyone else in OWA…gets to witness, firsthand, the beginning of the Wild Hunt…the beginning of Åsgårdsreien...You all will witness as the Killers go to work upon the ranks of Odyssey, as we hunt our prey up and down the roster, and execute with surgeon like precision upon our prey.

But enough about how cool we are…let’s get to the shit talking.

But BEFORE that…I just wanna say…I am just SO EXCITED that the Build-A-Bear twins are IN THIS MATCH! Oh my gosh, the CUDDLES from them!

I have to tell you girls…your name? Perfect. I know! SO MANY PEOPLE are talking shit about it, like, ALL the time! “Oh, that’s the dumbest name I’ve ever heard! Oh! What a shitty name for a shitty team! UGH! No thought was put into it, just like their careers!” We’ve all heard them, we’ve all laughed hysterically at them…but honestly? I like the name. It describes you two PERFECTLY. “Sleepytime”, because you’re both as boring as a TedTalk on finance, and together? Oh my God, the cure for insomnia. Slee-peeee TIME. “Guerrilla”...cos…you’re…um…you…you just POP UP outta nowhere! Right? Sure…that’s probably better than whatever reason you give…and “Punk” because you two are a couple of little punks, thinking you’re big and bad because you’re backing each other. I HAVE to echo Gwen here, two prey do not make a predator. You have simply COMBINED your lack of talent, your lack of drive, your lack of focus and you have compounded it into one SUPER shit. Like two turds in a futon in Philadelphia, you have COMBINED to make OmegaTurd. Your COMBINED efforts couldn’t take down a pigeon, and I swear to St. Jeanne, I will flush the everloving FUCK out of you two at OWA5. My right arm is the righteous blade of Jeanne D’Arc, and my left, the cursed sword of Prince Amleth. I, alone, am your reckoning, but you not only have to deal with me and Gwen Harper, but also the shitstain sisters, Rin and Ruh Roh Ruri! Oh my GOD, it’s not only a shit storm, it’s a BROWN SQUALL for you two. Cassie is going to struggle to simply stay awake, and Dani is going to be struggling to milk out whatever Emo she can from the match. She’ll be so focused on if her hair is green enough to look like she REALLY doesn’t care what you think, she won’t have time to make the tag or make a move. Cassie…teddy bear. Just…I mean…if you drink a Monster, will it literally kill you from all the energy? I don’t know WHO you’re kidding…running - sorry…ambling - about this place, pretending you can hang…but sleepy bear, you can’t. Hun…sleepyhead…so sleepy…sooooo sleeeeeeeeepy…I’ve made a defiant toddler hopped up on Apple juice go to sleep, so…you should be a piece of cake…and Dani? RAWK. Right? So punk. Hella punk. All that green shit. Ugh. I mean…you needed the help of CASSIE WU…CASSIE…WU. HOW TOUGH can you REALLY be? You know? I mean…I’m not trying to sound like a dick here…

Yes I am…

Anyway, if you need to take the help of the Sleepytime Tea bear to defend yourself, then I mean…COME on, sweetheart. COME on. I may have struggled in the past here on Odyssey, but I now have a SET path and a renewed focus. I have fucking GWEN HARPER backing ME. We, the two best hunters in OWA, have our sights set on a 12 point BUCK…we have our eyes LOCKED on those OWA Women’s Tag Team championships, and WHO the fuck is going to get in our way? You? Cassie? Rin and Ruby Roo Ruri?

HA! HA! I LAUGH at your stupid thought. You two are DELUSIONAL to think you have a chance in this match. You are God Damn BRAINDEAD if you think you two are anything CLOSE to competition in this. So here’s what I suggest, Sleepyface Shit Fairies: when it’s time for the match to start? You girls take a nap, peruse Amazon for some SWEET Harley Quinn leggings, and just…forget to come out for this match…you will be so much happier if you do, I swear…and that’s what it’s all about right? Song and dance and happiness?

Yeah. Give this one a big ol’ skip, babies. Tuck tuck time. You can have your tablets in the morning.

So we now move on from CHILDREN…to a member of the adult film industry and her fluffer.

Wellllll helllllllooooooo, Rin. You big titted dumb fuck. You’re right. It HAS been awhile. And while you like to think I’ve been spending that time regressing, right? I’ve actually racked up TWO singles titles outside of OWA, gone damn near undefeated for the better part of the year, AND? AND?

I’m not a cunt like you. So…you know. Progress.

But don’t think for a second that I’ve forgotten about you, Princess Sparkle. Don’t think for a fucking SECOND that I have forgotten how you and your weird alternate daddy…thing…fucked me over in our match. DON’T THINK…for a FUCKING SECOND, RIN…that I have forgotten that YOU are responsible for the death of Michael Bishop. I don’t care…in the slightest…what you have to say in the defense, because I have heard you say it before. For you…of ALL people…to sit there and question how I could get a law degree…how I could be a high-caliber lawyer…is just…MIND blowing.

I mean…like it’s hard? For somebody like you, yes…It’s probably VERY hard. All that reading, not enough hoeing it up and being a cancer. You’d HATE it.

But honestly, twat? Nowhere near as much as I hate you.

You and I…have unfinished business, Rin. Right now? You are at your most vulnerable. You don’t have a SOUL that gives a shit about you. You don’t have ANYBODY. You’ve surrounded yourself with your Golden Dawn yes men, but when we beat the everloving fuck out of you…when Gwen Harper and I put you flat on your back and stomp your oddly shaped face into oddly shaped jelly? Those SAME yes men…those SAME nameless goons are going to realize the shitty pension and sub par health benefits of the Golden Dawn? Not worth it.

Gwen and I? We are not only looking to beat you and your absolutely ADORABLE little friend into submission…we’re not only looking to decimate you and your friends…We are going to ERADICATE the Golden Dawn. Piece by rotten piece, bone by broken bone, goon by fucking unloyal shitty goon. We will pick you apart like RAVENS on a bloated corpse. You two? Are fucking DEAD. You say you’ll kill me? Yeah?

Eat my dick and bring it on. Daddy ain’t gonna save you this time.

And Ruri, hi, you’re so god damn cute, oh my god I could just eat you UP! This is a baaaaad idea, baby heart! Oh noooo! You backed the wrong horse, and now we have to put buckshot into both of you! I mean, that’s…it really feels unfair, but on the other hand? Go fuck yourself. You…CHOSE to side with Rin. YOU…CHOSE to be with RIN “I tried to commit genocide because I have daddy issues” Asakura. As far as I’m concerned, you’re just as bad as her. Your blatant stupidity puts you on par with her evil, because YOUR STUPIDITY will probably lead to her doing worse and worse shit…because now she has a puppy to do it with.

Ruri, you have a choice in this match. You can leave all this shit behind…Rin, the Golden Dawn, this match…and let the wolf and the bear get the feast that they deserve as we gnaw and rip Rin apart…

Or you can be buried beside her in a ditch…

We will not show you mercy, Ruri…we will not pull punches on you because you have “good intentions”...if you and Rin win these titles, the Golden Dawn regains some power…and if THAT happens? Rin Asakura and her army of fuckbois will once again try to take over…and once AGAIN this place will be thrust into all out war. You’ve seen these fuckers firsthand…they get the SLIGHTEST bit of momentum, and they milk it dry. They take whatever piece of the pie they have and try to take the whole god damn kitchen…and YOU, Ruri, are going to help that occur?

If you…stand before me…I will put you down like a dying dog. You will not survive an encounter with The Prodigy…so don’t even fucking try.

And Rin? Your cuntiness is showing. Have some decorum. Cover that gnarled bush up.

Åsgårdsreien For Alltid

[STOP]

=========================================

Suddenly the image of Gwen appears on the screen glaring a hole into the viewer. Without warning Josie Grey leaps onto the back of Gwen Harper, wrapping her arms and legs around the Appalachian Huntress. Josie Holds out a middle finger to the viewers as Gwen rolls her eyes with a disgusted look, but slowly she looks back to the camera as a single arm snakes up and returns the embrace as a wicked smile crosses her face.

The last thing we hear is the joyous laughter of Josie and the haunting laugh of Gwen filling the air before nothing but darkness…

Fin

Diantha Rosso, The Banshee, #BeLikeBea, DT The Ruler, Lazarus Arjen and Felix Hartley have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos April 28th 2023, 9:39 pm by **marielacorriveau**

We Are All Children of the Goddess

(She Left Some of Us In a Hot Car and it Shows)

Marie lets out a deep breath, staring up at her new altar. The dark wood has been carved - no, not quite. Burned. The camera lovingly pans over runes, veve, ancient pentacles of Mars and Jupiter and the Sun. A long line of thick black candles illuminate the statues of goddesses covering the other tiers. Andrasta, Oya, Freya, Athena, Erzulie Dantor, Menhit, Jiutian Xuannü, Astarte, Pele, and at least a dozen others watch Marie with painted eyes, the flickering candlelight making them almost appear to breathe, to truly watch. Goddesses of blood and battle, sex and power, radiating their own special kinds of magic into the stillness of the attic room. In the centre sits a large velvet pillow, waiting for the title.

Waiting for the triple goddess Marie has promised to honour.

“We are… so close, aren’t we? So close to the big day. So close to my own moment of truth, to the moment I either honour my sisters, or fall.”

“No. No, there really is no either, no or. There’s only our future. There’s only me knocking you out, making you tap. There’s only the roar of the crowd and the only honour I can bring to my girls anymore. There is… nothing else. Just defending honour where I couldn’t defend lives.”

“Let’s talk about defenses, Hana. Let’s talk about how you were already sliding into oblivion before I even stepped foot into OWA. How about that? That even with Havoc balls deep in your immortal soul you lost at Final Destination to a folding chair wielded by the woman I beat to become Tag Champion. I probably would’ve been able to rack up more defenses with that belt than you had with the Heavyweight Championship if Havoc hadn’t murdered my fucking partner in front of me. Why do I think that? Well, I was guaranteed one good defense after Civil War.”

“That would’ve tied us.”

“Alyssa just sent Liz packing, so let’s call that a freebie. That means I would’ve doubled your defenses in a matter of fucking months, when you held your belt for ninety seven days. Is the math mathing for you, cherie? That even with Havoc riding shotgun in the hollow space behind your dead fucking eyes, you weren’t shit as a champion? That you were so ungodly pathetic that even after spreading your arms wide and saying take me, I’m yours, like they were a demonic Fabio and you were posing for the kind of Harlequin romance that shows up at the thrift store with the pages stuck together, you still barely rated as a competitor?”

“This is really nasty, isn’t it? Does it hurt your feelings, Hana? That everyone’s Odyssey bestie thinks you’re a miserable two faced cunt who should’ve waited for us to grieve before popping up and acting like you run the show? That she can’t find any value in you? I didn’t blame you for what happened to Banshee and Violet, but maybe I should have. Maybe this is my fault. Maybe if I had come out swinging you would’ve pretended to be a decent person for a little bit longer before going mask off and showing every single one of us that you don’t have a single regret for letting Havoc in. For giving them TOTAL CONTROL of you.”

“But, wait, which is it? Did Havoc have total control, or were those wins all yours? Were you a poor helpless tool, living through unimaginable torment, or were you a powerful fighter earning it all on your own? What lie will Hana Nakajima spin today?! Will she try to gain sympathy or will she puff herself up and talk about how very special she is?”

“You pinned Devi Krysis twice with the help of a literal creature of hell. Let’s not play this game.”

“That was actually a bit too far. Devi is worth ten of you, Hana. She didn’t need to be asked twice, we said the world is burning, she said what time do you need me? She risked her life to put things right, because on top of being a good wrestler, she’s a good person. Shit, what was it you said? You fought alongside us because- what US, BITCH? What us?! Devi and me, that’s an us. Jeff, Felix, and me, that’s an us. All of Thotline is an us! You’re not in any US, Hana! You were the them in us versus them! You were on the OTHER SIDE.”

“But it was Havoc, not me, I wasn’t in control, you whine to whoever is listening - probably Chris, assuming he can even perceive the pitch you’re bitching in. It was you, Hana. Because you let Havoc in. You remember that we have a network, right? Anybody can settle in with some popcorn and watch you tell Havoc, and I fucking quote I failed again, you win, take control. Maybe you should sit down and rewatch it, really get it through your head, that you gave Havoc free rein because you were eliminated by Banshee, my FRIEND, who Havoc recently FUCKING KILLED.”

“You let them in, and you take no responsibility for it, you make no amends for it, other than crying crocodile tears and saying it was hard for you! So hard for you to kill the people I loved! So hard FOR YOU to wake up WITHOUT A SCRATCH on you, so hard for you to come back to a healthy husband who still loves you despite everything, so hard to be the only one of us who didn’t LOSE SOMETHING.”

“You showed me what my real mistake was, Hana. My real mistake was not blaming you. My real mistake was NOT being angry with you. Because you got exactly what you wanted, didn’t you?”

“Well, not exactly. You lost the clash. You got knocked out of this last Athena’s Cup in like, the first round. You did manage to get some gold back, so that’s nice. I’m getting sidetracked, but it really is striking how lackluster you were even with Havoc. You couldn’t accomplish anything without Havoc, but you weren’t exactly clearing house with them either, were you? You’ll take credit for Havoc’s work… but there’s only so much there to get credit for, hein?”

“I wonder how much of you was inside, smiling like a fucking fool, because you got revenge on Banshee for eliminating you with the world’s best plausible deniability. It was all Havoc! Surely there was no part of Hana Nakajima absolutely THRILLED that Banshee was dead, that would be ridiculous, it’s just a Clash elimination, by definition dozens of people have been eliminated from the Clash over the years, how many of them wanted the person who did it dead? Probably a handful, this is OWA, but I think you may be the only one who almost caused the apocalypse because of it. You didn’t manage to burn the world over your bruised fucking ego, but you did get what you wanted in that moment, didn’t you? Vengeance against my friend? And now you disrespect her memory, and every single person who fought in this war, by washing your hands of it. You even have the unmitigated testicular fortitude to say you’ll honour MY PARTNER by holding that belt! My partner! The woman I only have to mourn because a year ago you had a fucking hissy fit! And then you call me two faced because, what? Because with all of the shit you’ve been spewing, I didn’t keep my smile? Because you having a hard time getting to sleep isn’t making my heart break? Did you expect me to fawn all over you now that you’re back? I didn’t know you, Hana. I didn’t fight to get you back because I love you. I fought to get you back because it was the right thing to do. We’re not friends. Just because I’m a good person doesn’t mean I’ll stand here while you spit in my face and say Thank you Miss Nakajima, may I have another?”

“Not all of us can do that, Hana. Not all of us get to just forget, blame other people, and put it behind us. Some of us wake up in empty houses screaming because we still feel their blood on our skin. Some of us have to carry the memories of people we loved and lost. Some of us have to actually deal with the CONSEQUENCES of the DEALS WE MADE.”

“Consequences. A completely alien concept to you, sitting pretty with a title you didn’t fucking earn crowing about you deserve it and you’ll show the world how special you really are all by yourself. Except you’re not by yourself, are you? You have Chris. You have Chris thanks to Jeff, and Jeff would be DEAD right now if it weren’t for the luckiest application of a cosmic loophole EVER FOUND. Everything you are, everything you HAVE, is because of other. fucking. people.”

“And the best part of all of this is that now that I’ve seen the light, you’ll take credit for that too. You’ll act benevolent, and wise, and tell me you’ve walked my path before and you’re helping me get the anger out so I don’t wind up like you. You’ll proudly swing between insulting everything I hold sacred and saying you’ll be a shoulder for me to cry on if I need it! I don’t. I have Felix for that. Shit, if she’s busy, I’ll take Bex, I’ll take Jeff, I’ll snuggle up with Eddie if I have to.”

“I will NEVER be like you. You got a taste of the chthonic. You had a gap year. That’s where I live. You only have to look at the way things have gone to see the difference between us. You lost the Clash and lubed up your soul for a pounding by the forces of hell. I lost my BEST FRIENDS and I looked Death in the face and said do what has to be done. Do you see the issue here, Hana? Do you see the difference?”

“Before Havoc, during Havoc, after Havoc, you are weak.”

“I have been called a lot of things in my time here, Hana. Some of them are even true. But the one thing I have never been is weak. Every loss I’ve taken, for everything that slipped out of my grasp, I had to be damn near killed to keep me down, and every time I’ve gotten back up with nothing but my own determination and strength of will to rely on. You couldn’t stomach a loss without opening up the gates of hell? I’ve taken beatings you’d cringe at and not only kept my head, I came back for more. Even in the furthest reaches of my despair, even with my partner’s blood COVERING ME, not sure I even had enough left in me to stand, what did I do?!”

“What had to be done.”

“What does a soft heart do, cherie, once it’s been broken? I have been the gentle one for a long time. I held them back, do you know that? Asked for patience from my sisters, when they were ready to say to hell with it and just end you. I don’t mean a wrestling match, I don’t even mean a fight, I mean fucking murder. What happens now, when there’s no one left to hold me back? To ask me to be patient?”

“I’m not going to kill you. I’ve gotten too fond of Chris. I do have people who still care, I have to remind myself of that every day. I have friends, I’m not alone, but not one of them is going to ask me to hold back when it comes to you, Hana. Not a single person backstage, and not a single person in that crowd, is going to want to see anything less than me taking that title from you. What was it that Diantha said? Everyone wants me to be the dumb little bitch who could? Maybe that’s true. It’s funny, how when I started here all I wanted was that kind of support. All I wanted was to hear the crowds lose their unholy shit for me getting my hand raised. It wasn’t just glory I was looking for either, it was sisterhood. I walked in here vowing to shake the hand of every woman I beat. Not anymore. Not you.”

“Maybe in six months, a year, a fucking lifetime, you’ll be the kind of person who deserves my respect. Look at Felix. That’s the only woman who’s ever pinned me, hell, all of Thotyssey ran roughshod over this brand a few months ago, and now we’re friends. I’m going to be sitting front row with my title cheering Felix on as she sends Diantha straight to the hell that you two worked to unleash. If we can heal the gulf between us and become allies, friends, sisters, maybe you can make the same progress, maybe you can be the kind of woman I would be proud to know. Maybe if you can look me in the eye when I beat you, say I take responsibility, and move forward actually trying to be better, we can be friends.”

“Maybe not. Maybe you never were that kind of woman. I could see that being true. After all, you’ve been without Havoc for a couple of weeks now and all you’ve done is half heartedly make “amends” by offering me a title shot and then running your mouth about how great it’ll be for your story. So you were selfish before Havoc took total control, and you’re still selfish now. That’s fine. Because despite what you need to tell yourself to get through this, I have never needed a goddamn thing handed to me. Have I accomplished everything I wanted to do here? No. Due in no small part to spending a big chunk of my time in OWA chasing your possessed ass down, trying to exorcise Havoc without killing you in the process.”

“Where’s the Marie who did that? Which is it, Hana? Was I a bad person for still trying to save you even though Havoc was costing good people their lives, or was I being the person you want to be besties with? Maybe you thought that woman would take your bullshit with a smile. Maybe you thought that woman was incapable of anger. And you can spare me the dO yOu WaNt mE tO jUst sLiT mY wriiiiiiiists?? I know I’ve got a reputation as a megadyke, but we are not fourteen year old long distance tumblr girlfriends, I’m not that easy to fucking manipulate.”

“Was Havoc speaking, Hana? When you said you didn’t want our help? Was Havoc the one telling us off during that first match we had together, was it really Havoc talking about how under control you had everything?”

“I don’t think it was. And I’m so sick of pretending that there was no Hana inside of you, preening about the power you had. If you weren’t, you’d have disowned all of it. You would be acting like a woman with honour. So no, Hana. This will never be your redemption story. I will never be the charity case you use to bolster your post Havoc reputation. I will be the person who teaches you what consequences look like. I can understand your confusion about me, there are a lot of people who think I’m a cute sidekick, a footnote, a plot device, a smiling idiot only capable of wiping away tears and saying let’s go team! Violet and I used to get it all the time. She was my henchman, I was her tag along. Everyone had a different take on who was better in the ring, who was held back by who, but that’s not what the Hex Girls were. Even with Banshee as Champion, we weren’t her lackeys. We were friends. A united force, held together by hope, and purpose, by our own exquisite monstrosity.”

“A triad, a trinity, a triple goddess.”

“Half the people you ask will tell you that a triple goddess is a maiden, a mother, a crone, but those are people who fundamentally misunderstand it. Gerald Gardner, miserable old bastard that he was, spread that idea with Wicca so he could separate women into fuckable, fertile, and fetid. A triple goddess is three heads, three faces, three sisters moving in tandem, one soul in three lives, and that’s what we were. Even with how tragically short our time was together, we were closer in that time than many people are after years. We understood each other. When you’ve been misunderstood so long, that alone is a kind of magic that can’t be underestimated. You oversaw the death of two of the three of us, but Havoc missed one. A fatal mistake for them. A worse one for you, because you’re still here to live through the consequences of leaving one of us breathing.”

“And as long as one of us still stands, none of us will be forgotten. So you’re not really fighting me, Hana. You’re fighting the Hex Girls. You’re fighting all of that courage, and passion, and power. You’re making the fatal mistake of spitting in the face of the goddess. I want you to think about that tonight. Stare up at the waxing moon, and in its face, see everything that’s happened in this last year. Think of all of your hollow victories and all the times that even with the demonic equivalent of PED’s you still came up short. Think about the hearts broken, and healed, think about the monsters that are not alive but cannot die, refuse to die. Enjoy your last night with Havoc’s title.”

“Tomorrow, the goddess returns for it.”

Jeff X, The Banshee, #BeLikeBea, Rebecca Filth, DT The Ruler, Lazarus Arjen and Felix Hartley have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos April 28th 2023, 9:26 pm by **Gwen Harper**

OWA5 Promo 1
Gwen and Josie Vs. Golden Dawn vs. Sleepytime Guerilla Punk
Womens Tag Team Championship

Chances

The scene starts at a roaring fire pit. Spits are set up around the edges and fresh kills hang from them slowly rotating over the burning wood. Walking among them we see a shadowed figure, one adorned in antlers taking their time to slowly turn each spit over before walking to the next. The light from the fire isnt enough to make out just who the figure is but it is a good guess as to who. The figure stops at the freshest kill, the kill is clean and raw and us just beginning to sizzle from the heat. I hand decorated in stone and bone extends out throwing spice onto the raw meat. The spice sprays against the screen and we suddenly transition away.

The forest is cold, heat had filled the air just days before and the crisp hint of lingering winter has dulled the green in the trees. Fresh blooms appear wilted near the ground as the earth breathes and its breath rises from the dirt, filling the forest floor with a mist. There is an eerie silence that fills the void of the trees as even the wildlife is unsure if it should rise. But then there is a cry, the bellow of a deer stunned from its slumber and racing out. Racing out from behind it in a dead chase..is a rabbit...the two clearly friends play and frolic through the cold air together. After a few minutes of running and jumping the deer comes to a stop and lays down in a clear patch of ground. The rabbit leaps about over its friend’s head and body before settling down near the deer's head.

Suddenly without warning we hear the tell tale swish of a flying arrow and the rabbit is struck, pinned right to the ground dead. The Deer jumps up startled and bellows out and walks up to its friend nudging it with its nose trying to get it to stand. Another swish from a different direction, and an arrow imbeds in the chest of the deer that stumbles back rearing up on its hind legs before falling over. The image lingers on the two dead friends before fire burns the image away and we return to the fire pit, two spits side by side, one clearly the larger deer is slowly cooking, the smaller spit is removed from the fire, clearly the corpse of the rabbit, it is done.

The scene fades to black, and in the darkness comes Gwen Harpers voice

Late April,

The bones have been calling out to me in need. First it was to find power, power I thought I was to make my own. It turns out I was wrong. That is one thing I am learning, to admit when I am wrong. I was wrong about Josie Grey. And I was wrong when I thought to wield the power on my own. I have accepted that and the bones have awarded me a new path. That path is to gold. But much like my path to power, my path to gold is littered with creatures that insist on being my prey. But the thing is, I never consider a hunt a bad thing. The bones could lay down hundreds of challenges in my way and I would face them all. Taking time to bring each one down, And that is when I am alone. But we all know I am no longer alone.

What am I up against however? What must I put down to bring in the gold the bones and I desire? The first is a bewildering pairing. Cassie Wu and Dani Fatale. An odd pairing indeed. Brought together because they both kept getting their asses beat by the same person over and over again. So they have formed a team, to take her down…except they didn’t, Hastings still parades around well above their station. I get it though, they are the underdogs, the inspiring duo. Together they can conquer the world!...Wrong, together, they can die. Together they dance and the sing and ugh they play at being competent. But what happens when they are in the sights of a true hunter? When they back up and hit that wall? They crumble.

Don’t get me wrong, I understand the level of pride these women must have. And I understand why they are a team. They could not overcome something alone so they assumed together they could. And had they come up against anyone else besides me, and I’m not alone… Then they may have had a chance. But two wrongs do not make a right. Two weak ass punks, who could not stand on their own only make for a weak ass team. Like a deer and a rabbit becoming friends. Ha, bambi and her bunny. We all know what happens, the hunters come and the animals fall. Its simple really, the two of you were prey on your own, creatures in the wild MEANT to be hunted down, and turned into food for the apex predators. Two prey coming together does not a predator make. You are still prey.

Whats more, I alone could hunt you down. The bones however told me to seek power, and that power is now at my side. If you thought there was a chance to run before, to evade me, you lost that chance…And honestly, what do they expect to happen here? They fail at taking down the current Sparks champion, and then set sights on a former 2 time Goddess Champion who has been doing nothing but backing up her words for the last two months. I took on a fucking Coked out bear and these two dimwits come walking up like they mean something? I beg you, keep letting them dawdle. Keep letting them think that together they mean more than they were apart. Keep letting them have that little glimmer of hope that they can achieve anything…That way as they keep on fucking around, me and my new power can help them find out.

Gwen’s voice fades out into the darkness as the sound of popping wood and flaring flame is heard once more.

Again we are at the fire pit and again the darkened silhouette moves about the pit. The horned figure tosses fresh wood on the fire and the flames lash out in anger at the new source of fuel. In the background we see a second figure, masked by the smoke and the lingering waves of heat. It is clear they are busy with a knife, and we see what appears to be a pelt get tossed to the around. The horned figure walks over and becomes even more obscured but we clearly see it bring over a large rod and after a few moments, some form of animal is skewered on it.

A second rod already prepared is picked up from the table as well and the figure of Gwen Harper returns to the view coming into clarity from the rising flame. She carries the two rods over to a pair of spit poles and lays one rod across each pair. She bends down picking up two small crank handles and attaches them to the rods. Slowly she starts turning over the meat. We hear as the heat begins to make the fat of the meat sizzle. Gwen bows her head from the flames and slowly turns the spits. The image lingers on this scene for a few moments before a harsh transition.

Two Foxes are running through the snow. Between them is a small chipmunk running for its life. The two foxes, clearly faster, more powerful than the little rodent are “playing” with it. One fox strikes out with its paw and sends the poor thing rolling. The other leaps over its friend and lands atop the chipmunk and rolls across the field with it in its teeth, flinging it into the sky which is intercepted by the other fox and slammed to the ground. Both of the foxes circle the now downed rodent, its tail twitches once, twice, and then is still. The foxes stop moving, one of them walks up and nudges the rodent with its nose, almost sad that the playing was over.

Suddenly the first comes flying in and rips the chipmunk of the ground and plants itself a few feet away clearly ready to enjoy its earned meal. The second fox clearly does not like this idea, they hunted together after all. It dives at the first fox and the two begin fighting. The fight becomes furious and with a piercing yelp the smaller of the two foxes takes off with a small limp. Satisfied the other fox turns to dine, only to find that the chipmunk had played dead and had now vanished into the brush. Quickly the fox knew it must return to its friend and they would hunt again and took off after.

A few moments later we find the pair of foxes, one still limping the other now helping it along. A soft swish is heard followed by another in succession. The camera snaps to the two foxes each with an arrow through its back and pinned to the ground. Two figures come slowly walking out of the forest from a distance. The camera lingers on the image of the two dead and bleeding foxes as a small chipmunk runs into view darting between the two and then disappearing as the image fades to black

Gwen's voice is heard through the darkness

Late April

There is a large difference between myself, and my new power, and the likes of the Golden Dawn Rin and Ruri. First of all, I have not made the mistake Rin made of becoming a target of a fucking god like being. Second, neither myself or the power at my side have had to convince one or the other that being a team is actually a good thing. We just knew and there was little doubt. And third, and this is an important one, we take responsibility for our actions. We don’t turn tail and run, we don't give up and if it doesn’t go our way, we stand there and face the failings we made, come hell or high water. When the bones showed me that to gain the gold they seek I would be stalking and hunting the likes of these two dims, I sighed. Not because they won't be a challenge, but because when they got close to actually accomplishing a goal they walked away from it.

Rin needs to know, that ontop of now having the Huntress of OWA targeting her the power beside me resents the bitch. A thorn in the side of a demi god for the better part of a year. A thorn that with my help will me pulled out and tossed away. For too long has this bug gotten away with the sins of herself and her father figure whatever the hell he is. She is responsible for a mans death, and she tried to do worse just recently. But EVEN WHEN SHE KILLS SOMEONE SHE FAILS. The man who died…still walking around today sweet cheeks, oh and still the baddest mother fucker on the planet. Dues must be paid when the reaper calls, and this time there is no hiding, this time the reaper brings backup.

And the two of them, Rin and Ruri…had the chance to end their opponents. Look I don’t play sides here in OWA, Yea it sucks we lost Jeff for a couple weeks but he’s fine, back at OWA5. Yet these two twats, when they had their prey dead to rights…walked away. Let me say that again. DEATH WAS INEVITABLE…ONE SHOT ONE KILL AND IT WAS DONE…And they walked the fuck away. Now mind you this new power may not like what I am saying, but they fucking understand where I am coming from. What are they but a couple of dumb ass quitters? You see thats a big difference. I Don’t fucking quit, I may even get beat now and again but I DONT QUIT. If I have the kill shot, I take it, I make the fucking kill. I fucking killed a wolf INFRONT OF A FUCKING WOLF GOD….I Dont Quit..And the weakness they showed, it will be their undoing.

Thats if the two of them can even stay on the same gods forsaken page. Ruri, with her sweet as sin shtick and Rin who thinks she is the second coming of who knows what to rule the world, can barely even agree to be a fucking team. Ruri, having wet herself in the process of walking away from her own fucking actions knows she only has a shot in life if she has Rin at her side and Rin, cant snap out of her own world plots long enough to see that Ruri may actually be right and the two of them actually need each other. Not that this will help them. No these two skimps will realize this truth way to late, and hell we are not even the consequences coming for them for the actions they have taken. We are just the two who are doing them a favor by putting an arrow between their eyes and taking the gold that we deserve to wield.

Gwen’s Voice once more dips into the darkness, and once again we are at the fires.

Gwen is now seated, a leg of the deer on a large platter before her, off to the sides are portions cut up and sat in bowls. Behind her stands the other figure, clearly already eating on its meal. Gwen holds out her hands and from the darkness a pack of wolves comes walking in, teeth bared, growling as the near the Huntress. She turns her hands downward and they break into a run until each is at a bowl devouring their feast. Gwen bends down and rips a chunk of meat from the deer leg and begins to feast as well. The image of the meats juices running down her chin linger before fading to black.

Late April

I obsessed for the last few months over one thing. Ulvensdatter. The bones spoke to me and told me to seek power. Power I thought I would yield as the magiks grew around me, a way to fight back. But I was wrong, this power was not one I was to wield, No. Ulvensdatter is not a toy to be handled. So I sought to kill it. What better way to take power from another by ending its life for your own gain. Well, we all know I won the fight, But yet powerless I remained. Thats right, I hunted a woman to near death. I faced a drugged out bear to find it and do you know how I ultimately got the wolf on MY side? What it took? I befriended it.

Thats right, the power at my side is also now a dear friend. It took us all but killing each other to realize what we actually had to do. The bones never lie, I did need power, at my side. Whats worse, that power is the other hunter of OWA Josie Fucking Grey. Ulvensdatter the Wolf god and Mother Mountain are now a team. Do you think anyone is actually safe now? Do you think we will just let bygones go. No, the bones spoke, they demand gold and I will deliver it. No, WE will deliver it.

Åsgårdsreien…the wild hunt..it begins now. Golden Dawn, Sleepy Punks, they are our first targets, the first prey to be sacrificed for the gods. When the mountains beckon you run to the hills, the bones danced out of my hands and laid before me the path I will follow. Josie, she steps into my world and me into hers and together we will be unstoppable. A Wolf and a Bear with the same goal in mind. This time there is no walking away, and there is but repeated failure. Apex Predators stomp the earth and these lower cunts will fall.

Girls, we are well beyond the fucking around portion of the show. We know who you are, where you tred and how you fight. And just like EVERY TIME YOU TRY..When the Åsgårdsreien falls over you, you will fall as prey. You see, we are not just a rag tag team, we are not just a what if scenario..this was written in the stars, this is fate. Mountain Mama and Her Perfect Weapon are on the hunt, I never missed, and now there is a second shot just as good as mine. How do you think this ends? We are not the prey, we are not the targets. We are the Huntresses…

WE ARE Åsgårdsreien…

Suddenly the image of Gwen appears on the screen glaring a whole into the viewer. Without warning Josie Grey leaps onto the back of Gwen Harper wrapping her arms and legs around the Appalachian Huntress. Josie Holds out a middle finger to the viewers as Gwen rolls her eyes with a disgusted look, but slowly she looks back to the camera as a single arm snakes up and returns the embrace as a wicked smile crosses her face.

The last thing we hear is the joyous laughter of Josie and the haunting laugh of Gwen filling the air before nothing but darkness.

Diantha Rosso, The Banshee, #BeLikeBea and DT The Ruler have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos April 28th 2023, 7:19 pm by **Diantha Rosso**

“Even to your enemies, provide them with salt.”

Paraphrasing an old Japanese proverb here, inspired by a ruler who was disgusted with the tactics of those around him who blockaded a rival and kept him from getting salt, a necessary preservative at the time especially. “Wars are to be won with swords and spears, not with rice and salt.”

You’re hungry?

I’m more than happy to provide you with a nice meal before I send you to the hospital- AGAIN. And make you bleed, AGAIN. You have a hunger for violence, well sweetheart I’m your Target Supercenter, your Kroger Foods, your fucking Winn-Dixie all rolled into one. I have plenty of tools at my disposal that can satisfy your hunger.

But for now. Have a seat. Dine and talk with me. Not as Thotyssey vs FTM, not as enemies. Just simply as two women.

OWA Promos - Page 6 Display-food-banquet-table-800x800

Wow, you really showed me! Just taking everything I said, word for word, bar for bar, and acting like you came up with something witty and unique. Congratulations on being the latest person to follow in my footsteps.

I mean, I would applaud you but I’m busy holding something that you really, honestly believe belongs to you: This title. This WORLD title. The only world championship that matters anymore. The one that’s made OWA world-famous.

You know, there is a nasty habit that people have once they’ve held a certain championship. They grow attached to it, caress it, lug it around in a briefcase or whatever to keep it safe…and when they lose it, when it’s out of their grasp, they still refer to it as theirs. “My title.” “When I get MY title back.” Admittedly, it's a delusion that I’ve suffered from once or twice in the past, but it seems that the latest infection of this disease is Felix Hartley. Even after what I’ve done to her, what I’ve done to her friend Rebecca by relegating her to catering for an OWA PPV after kicking the shit out of her, after constantly leaving her bloodied and bruised…

She still finds it in her brain to believe that something that is MINE belongs to HER.

Possession isn’t nine-tenths of the law in professional wrestling. It’s ten-tenths of the law, one hundred percent. As much as you, your degenerate friends, that sobbing, moping little witch Marie and that walking poster child for uncoordinated simpletons Devi Krysis don’t want to admit it, I rule Odyssey right now. People started calling me a Pillar against my will, but now people want to start referring to themselves as the foundation. I ask rhetorically who tilled the earth that they’re even daring to lay a foundation on? Who nurtured Odyssey from its infancy, breathed life into it, became the measuring stick that has stood the test of time since it began?

I did.

No one else. Aria Jaxon didn’t do this. Hera Incarnate was busy bullying the men on the other brands and being a big shot in Japan. She didn’t have the time of day for us women. Wrestling against us was beneath her unless it was convenient for her to do so. HENDRIX was the first champion, but you would have had to go on Wikipedia to look it up so insignificant her impact was. Sweet Roxy was a prodigy, champion before even turning twenty years old. Like so many blonde idiots before and after, she was gone. Fading into obscurity after I helped speed up the demise of the Dollhouse.

TyAnna Jupiter is one of the big what ifs I suppose. Her neck couldn’t handle the rigors and stresses of being champion and it gave out, forcing her to retire. She’s one of the only people I never managed to defeat in my career. But…for all she did…her accomplishments faded into history, forgotten by all but the most astute students of the Odyssey game.

Natalie Cage and Dulce Torres were my biggest rivals and for a while their accomplishments and exploits building the brand were ahead of mine. Then, after about a year of toil, I caught up with them. I surpassed them both.

So many have come, gone, and come back but they are not constant fixtures. Aside from a brief hiatus due to injury, OWA has been my home. So, I guess you’re wondering why the history lesson, huh, Felix? Why should I take time to educate you on things that you don’t care about? The only thing you seem to care about right now is putting me in a box and I can say for sure that I don’t blame you. If someone had done to me what I’ve done to you of late, I’d want their head on a pike.

I’d want to SMASH them.

I’d do everything in my power to kill them.

But here’s the thing though, it’s not like you’ve been lacking opportunity to do anything of that nature to me. Civil War, basically every Odyssey and Kingdom for the past three months. There’s a problem that you aren’t registering yet. I know most of the intelligent people out there already get it, but since it’s failing to penetrate your thick skull, here’s the skinny:

Any time you and I cross paths, you either get hurt physically or hurt emotionally. Nothing ever good of it comes for you.

You were a good Sparks Champion. Maybe even a great one. But the levels are different, sweetheart. You’re not wrestling Devi Krysis and random Joshi sluts that couldn’t hack it in JET. You’re in rarefied air now and we, as of yet, don’t really know how you’ll respond in a situation like this.

“Oh, but I won the chamber!”

And? I won one too, had the same thing that happened to you happen to me. But then I still had work to do to get that title back and prove I belong. That’s the challenge in front of you. And unlike Eris, I haven’t gotten complacent. Not in preparation, not in the ring. You and Thotyssey are the Goalposts now? Girl do I have some bad fucking news for you! I’m from Louisiana, and around here and all across the American South in Particular, we’re used to tearing goalposts down. Win a big football game? Goal posts get torn down. End a long losing streak? Goal posts down. Beat a rival, Tear it down, chop it up and keep a piece of it as a memento.

That’s what I’ve been doing to you and your friends lately, chopping you up and leaving with keepsakes. Filth talked SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO much shit about what she was going to do to me, how she was going to take the title from me. She left with an L. Angelina hasn’t even breathed in my direction because she knows that if she ever did, I would beat her within an inch of her life as well. This isn’t April Song, it’s all DAWG around here.

And that’s probably one of the two biggest gripes I have with you Dollhouse knockoffs. I have gone out of my way to be respectful to all of you for your abilities. I don’t think you’re on my level, but I respect the level that you’re at. But then each and every time you three see me, you disrespect me. You call me a fraud and a sham and soft when all three of you have been put under real pressure and proven much softer than I could ever be.

Its like I’m NOT the only person in OWA history to win the Promethian Chamber, The Clash of the Titans and Ascention to the Heavens match. It’s like I’m NOT the only person to have beaten EIGHT former OWA Women’s World Champions.

Hmm….let’s count them off real quick.

Jonetta Stone and the Banshee…at the same time, by the way. Two.

Eris. She hasn’t been seen since. That’s three.

Azumi Goto. That’s four.

Natalie and Dulce, the ONLY competition I have for greatest of all time talk here in OWA as far as the women are concerned. That’s six.

Seven…..Rebecca Filth.

Do you know who the eight is?

Go look in the mirror. It’s you.

I choked the life out of you while your friends watched. Your boyfriend and friends were so slow getting their asses to the ring to try to save you, I could have choked you out, written The Holy Bible, and ordered a fucking pizza all before they were able to do anything. There are levels to this, and you’re not on mine.

As far as asserting my dominance over this title is concerned, I don’t operate on your timeframe. It doesn’t matter that I’ve had opportunities to do it before. I’ve never had an opportunity to do it like THIS. With all the backing of FTM and a general manager that knows that it’s in her best interest to see me on top. With all the eyes on OWA, at the height of it’s popularity in what is being celebrated as an anniversary year. I do what I want to WHEN I want to and HOW I want to do it. I don’t care about your opinion of the matter. You don’t count.

I don’t mean as a person. I mean as a decision maker on this brand, in this company, you do not count. My word is the word that matters.

And you think that I did all the things that I did for YOU? You think I risked bringing about armaggeddon and the end of mankind for YOU!? I made a deal with Havoc for YOU!?

I think you’ve gotten a little too prideful about your abilities. You know, I did what I did to make sure that there would be NO opposition. Not just you. The Banshee, Your gal pals, Marie, the now deceased Violet, just about anyone not named Skylar Arceneaux was a target and even SHE was on borrowed time as far as I was concerned. I was playing for keeps with that alliance, and I was willing to do anything to strengthen my hand and the hands of my true brothers in FTM.

See, that’s the OTHER reason I have run out of patience with you and your friends. This is why I’m confused. Besides the disrespect, that could be for the most part forgiven, you have a blissful arrogance about you and a convenient series of lapses of memory. For the last few months, I’ve have given all of you an opportunity to answer for YOUR sins. How YOU three cheated people out of opportunites. How YOU three stole from rightful champions. How YOU THREE constantly have stolen from all of those around you. HOW YOU DON’T CARE ABOUT THE BUISNESS OR THE LITTLE PISSANTS LIKE DEVI AND MARIE THAT YOU HANG AROUND! IT’S ALL ABOUT YOUR GOALS AND AMBITIONS AND NOTHING ELSE! YOU’RE JUST AS SELF-CENTERED AND EGO-DRIVEN AS I FUCKING AM, AND TRUST ME THAT’S A HELL OF AN ACCOMPLISHMENT!

I POSE DIRECT, HONEST QUESTIONS TO YOU AND ALL YOU CAN DO IS COP OUT ABOUT REVENGE! YOU DEFLECT! YOU CALL ME EVERYTHING UNDER THE SUN, BUT THE FACT REMAINS THAT YOU THREE’S HANDS ARE JUST AS BLOODY AS MINE!

What am I supposed to think then when you spineless cowards refuse to explain yourselves? What am I to think about you? How am I to continue to respect you, huh? You must desire more pain, more suffering, MORE CRYING, BECAUSE YOU CLEARLY HAVENT GOTTEN THE FUCKING MESSAGE YET!

I AM OWA! ODYSSEY IS MY FUCKING SHOW!

OWA EXISTS BECAUSE I ALLOW IT TO! IF OWA HAD A CREATION MYTH, I’M THE GOD THAT SHAPED THE VERY EARTH THAT YOU BUILT YOUR GODDAMN FOUNDATION ON! I DECIDE WHO IS IMPORTANT AND WHO IS NOT! I DECIDE WHO GETS A SHOT AT MY TITLE! I DO WHAT I WANT, WHEN I WANT. I DON’T DO A GODDAMN THING ON YOUR SCHEDULE OR AT YOUR CONVENEINCE!

Never forget that.

When this is over, you’ll maybe have enough dignity left to cobble together some career. You’re more than welcome to go back down to MY Midcard and challenge for the other titles.

Maybe even take your friends and settle into MY tag division. You’re more than welcome to stay there.

But you? Challenging for THIS? After OWA 5, you’re done. There’s not gonna be some miracle where you get another shot. Nobody’s gonna rewrite the history books and say you get to have another opportunity. You think I enjoy just sitting around, waiting for my challengers to spring up like dwarves out of a fucking hole in the ground, existing only to get fucking stepped on?

Once you lose, and you’re gonna lose…I have other shit to do. I’m going to Smash every fucking concievable record there is. Most overall defenses, longest time held across any and all reigns. Most consecutive defenses. MOST ODYSSEY MAIN EVENTS. MOST OWA MAIN EVENTS! MOST FINAL DESTINATION MAIN EVENTS!

Shit, I may even enter myself into the Athena’s Cup tournament, crush everything in my way like a runaway locomotive, and hold that trophy….just to say you bitches can’t have it. I may just enter the Clash Again, Enter at #1 and become the IRON WOMAN AGAIN, JUST TO KEEP RIFF RAFF LIKE YOU AWAY! Shit, I may be the first person in history to be a World Champion in Ascention to the Heavens, JUST TO KEEP THE HANDS OF YOU GRUBBY BITCHES AWAY FROM THE FOOD AT MY BANQUET TABLE!

It’s not because I’m scared of you…it’s not even because I hate you. It’s because I CAN. You want me to prove that I’m a killer? You want to see that I’m bout that action, to use the vernacular? Well, you’re about to get any and all the action you want, in front of the biggest worldwide audience that OWA has ever had. You are about to see why I am what I say I am. You’re going to understand why Giovante Reese CHOSE ME to be the crown jewel of his organization. You’re going to see why a literal fucking DEMON was shook enough to make a temporary truce with me.

You know why all these bitches like Aria Jaxon, Stephanie Matsuda, all those fucking run through ring rats wrestling for your old title came back to OWA and didn’t step to me, didn’t try to take this?

You wanna know why Natalie Cage and the rest are retired?

BECAUSE THEY KNOW THEY CANNOT…FUCK…WITH. THIS.

And you can’t too. You got all these people hyping you up, doing even more damage to your brain than Emmanuelle has done to the fucking Dojo Brats, hyping you up to be some kind of knight in shining armor about to storm my castle. And it makes me sad in a way to see you cling to this notion that you scare me, that you can beat me, that you can fuck with me in any fashion without the means of a gun.

You just can’t.

And guess what, when it’s over. Confetti is gonna be raining from the rafters. People are going to see a dead ass body in the ring. But it’s not going to be me laid out. It’s gonna be your ass. Your friends are gonna help you up, try to give you a little pep talk about how you’ll get it next time, but you know that there ain’t gonna be a next time. This is One Shining Moment for wrestlers, you’re Fairlegh Dickenson, getting a nice little 5 second clip, I’m FUCKING UCONN! I’M STANDING OVER EVERYTHING CUTTING DOWN THE FUCKING NETS, HOLDING THE TITLE I SMASHED YOU TO GET! YOU ARE MIAMI, SAN DIEGO STATE AND FLORIDA ATLANTIC! A NICE STORY, A NICE RUN, BUT WHEH YOU SEE ME IT’S FUCKING OVER!

DO YOU GET IT YOU BLONDE CUMRAG!? OVER!

And when the match is over, since you wanna bring Maury into this, people are gonna ask you if you’re the “Champion”, the “Locker Room” leader after you faced Diantha Rosso. You may be concussed enough to say yes, BUT THE LIE DETECTOR, ME, I DETERMINED THAT SHIT WAS A LIE A LONG TIME AGO! I’m going to make sure you suffer, slowly, for getting in this deep. You think sitting around using unhealthy coping mechanisms and sobbing over your bitch-ass boyfriend was brutal? Wait until I’m done with you.

And I mean it when I say when I’m done with you, I’m totally done with you. You will understand your place when this is over. You’re gonna go back to your friends and stay the fuck out of my way for good.

Because after Diantha Rosso has beaten the Sparks out of you….you’re going to be just a hollow woman.

Your title aspirations? Just like the mediocre no-name who trained you after “giving their life” to the sport, probably just snorting a hot dose…dead. Hey, they may have some company down there, chilling with Banshee. Maybe they can get together and help Violet remove her head from her ass down there and play some board games inbetween sessions of fiery torment. YOUR TITLE ASPIRATIONS ARE GOING TO BE AS DEAD AS THEY ARE!

And I’m going to move on, continuing to dominate, continuing to build Odyssey in my image, continuing to take over every aspect of OWA until the question isn’t “Who is the greatest OWA Alpha of All Time?” but “Who is the second greatest of all time behind Diantha Rosso?”

You’re talking a good game now, but talking doesn’t win titles. Talking doesn’t set records, win awards, bring in new eyes, bring in new challenges. Winning does. And I am, without any doubt, the biggest winner in the History of OWA. I rose up with no help, no office backing, no sleeping around for my status.

I built my world with my own two hands.

And with these same two hands…..

I'M GONNA FUCKING DESTROY YOURS!

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

Re: OWA Promos April 28th 2023, 6:21 pm by **Hana Nakajima**

OWA5 #2: Two-Faced Witch.

28.04.2023 Tokyo, Japan

*Death has always been a difficult topic that brought various thoughts to people's minds. Some plunged into hysteria, others did not leave the house for months, unable to come to terms with the loss of a loved one. Some took out their frustration on everyone around them. It was this aggression that was the most harmful for people affected by it. It was unfair because it was simply not needed. Will it bring someone back to life? Hana Nakajima kept asking herself those questions every day, but the answer was always the same. Although the girl felt guilty for everything that had happened, since she and Havoc became one unit, she knew that nothing would change the fact that two-thirds of the Hex Girls were buried underground. No matter how cruel it was, Hana knew she just had to accept it. But for sure, it was easier for her, because she did not have such good contact with them. Perhaps it would have affected her more if she was in Marie's place. However, this did not change the fact that life with blood on your hands is not easy. Perhaps many people thought Hana was fine after she was freed from this monster. Yet, she struggled every day with the consequences of Havoc's actions. She was hated and constantly accused. She was living in constant fear. The girl had trouble even taking a rest at night, afraid that as soon as she closed her eyes, he would come back. Even during the day, she nervously glanced over her shoulder, whenever she heard something disturbing. Not to mention the madness that kept coming into her head quite often. She had days where she would whisper under her breath and bang her head against the wall. There were times when she began to think that her death could atone for her sins. But she knew that would be too easy a solution to her problems. Above all, it would be a temporary consolation for all those hurt by Havoc. But what would be then? She was convinced the same people would spit on her grave. Not to mention that she had something to live for. She had a loving husband and friends, who were willing to give their lives to get her out of this shit. Though, it wasn't always the first thought that came to her mind. Sometimes these positive thoughts were covered by black clouds, and then Hana plunged into the depths of darkness.*

*As the recording begins, the first thing the viewer notices is the darkness prevailing throughout the entire area. In the depths of which something makes some vague movements. Suddenly, a small lighter flame appears and moves around, lighting more candles. With each subsequent movement, it gets brighter and brighter, until finally, you can see a person, sitting in a cross-legged position, in the corner of the room. Hana is wearing only an oversized beige T-shirt. Her crimson red hair is tied into two low ponytails and her make-up is one big mess. One look at her face is enough to see that the girl was crying. Mascara runs down her cheeks and dark red lipstick is smeared, staining her cheeks and chin. Hana, not caring how bad she looks, wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. Then she takes a few nervous breaths, and to everyone's surprise, a short maniacal laugh escapes her lips.*

Zero consequences. Is that what it looks like to you or the world, Marie? Sleepless nights until my body shuts down due to exhaustion only to see the nightmare that I lived through for the last few months. I still hear his voice. Even when I tell myself that it’s all in my imagination, my mind starts drifting away. I start thinking about all the terrible things that I had to witness. I wish I could just cry myself to sleep. That would be much easier than everything I have to go through.

But to Marie, I am the one not getting the flack for all that happened. This is all part of some sick, twisted plan of mine to gain sympathy. I understand that Marie is going through a lot of emotions herself but if she meant the words that she spoke, it’s just cruel, isn’t it? My suffering has been put out for the world to see and yet Marie is seemingly clueless about it all. What happened to the Marie that worked with April and Chris to get me back? What happened to Marie who fought in the war and came up with ideas to put Havoc away for good? How could she be so ignorant of all the trauma that I had to endure? Yes, my body may not show the signs of war that the rest of the Thotline might have. But that only proves the point further that this isn’t a devious act of gaining sympathy. My body was under the control of a demon that told me things that were just not true. He played with my mind and broke me down into pieces. I was helpless. He used my fragile mind and body to do his bidding. No human could have come out alive after everything Thotline did to stop him. The only reason I am here is that he needed my body to survive in this world.

That does not give anybody a right for a second to say that I got out of this ordeal with no scratches. That I am the only one who’s perfect while the rest are still licking their wounds. Marie, you simply did not care for what happened to NAMI. Where were your morals then? Why did you continue to help save me from the demon back then? Or when you saw me kill the love of my life with my bare hands. I can’t ever wash Chris’ blood away from my hands even if he came back to life. But even then, you helped Thotline and Chris to get me back. You knew very well that Havoc was dangerous. Not just Havoc, there were Gods and Monsters playing a role in the war and yet you faced it head-on with Thotline.

I am sorry… I am sorry that I couldn’t stop Havoc from doing those terrible things. I would have done it if it was possible. You’d think that was obvious seeing how I killed Chris before without any hesitation. I was dying on the inside every single day, feeling helpless. I had given up on life. I wanted to die and I was doing everything I could to take that demon down to hell with me. But Havoc wouldn’t budge. I was powerless in front of him. What happened to Violet was out of my control. Do I feel guilty about it? I do. And I will take that guilt to the grave. Even if some of my mistakes are undone by your or Abholos’ help… The guilt I bear would never fade away. I can’t look any of you in the eye knowing everything that happened. It hurts me too. And it also hurt when you said that I was playing a victim in this situation. Marie, I AM a victim. I will never be the same again. In fact, I had lost my will to live. I even tired--

*Hana stops herself as tears roll down her eyes.*

I wanted to end it all. Seeing the world look at me through a different lens was too much for me to handle. Walking by people as they stared at me as if I was some monster… Not everybody is willing to give me another chance. I don’t blame them… But I don’t expect them to understand what all of us went through. I do expect better out of you, Marie. You saw everything unfold firsthand… You saw what he did to April in a matter of weeks. He broke her mind and body. I was under his control for over a YEAR! I tried fighting but there’s only so much fight left in you before you break down. I was beyond that state.

If it wasn’t for Chris… I wouldn’t be here. My head hurts every time I start thinking about the past. Thinking about the lives that I ruined. I can’t bring them back, Marie. If I could give up my life in exchange for theirs, I would do it in a heartbeat. The guilt is really weighing down on me. I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. I can’t think straight. I start hearing that monster’s voice telling me to do heinous things. I can’t stop seeing all the cruel things he did the moment I close my eyes. I want it to STOP! STOP IT! I really can’t take this for much longer… But Chris told me that I have to fight. He had been through a similar situation before. I want to believe that the voices will go away. I want to believe that I can teach myself to be happy again one day. I will fight, Marie. I will fight for my love just as he did for me. I will fight for April who was willing to sacrifice her own sanity just to get me back. I am willing to fight for you, Marie. Someone who worked really hard to get me out of my predicament.

This is not an act. I have nothing to gain by doing so. I’ve already lost the trust of my people. People that I care about. I am trying to be better, Marie. I don’t want people to pity me. But I don’t want them to hate me for something I didn’t do. I did not kill Violet. I did not kill my husband. I did not kill Banshee or NAMI or the countless others that stood in that demon’s path. For the longest, I was as good as dead myself. Trapped in a body with no control over what I do or say. What good is that? I know that my face is what you remember seeing when all those lives were taken. So, your mind subconsciously associates those terrible acts with me. But blaming me won’t get them back. What you’re trying to do for Banshee or Jeff, is nothing short of a miracle. I thank you for everything that you’ve done for me and my family. Chris really needed people who showed him a glimmer of hope. He didn’t want to give up on me and the Hex Girls were one of the reasons why he could fight through his pain.

But… I won’t let you speak ill of me for all that happened. If it was said in the heat of the moment, I could understand. But you doubled down on it. It wasn’t simply an emotional outburst. You really blame me for everything that happened. It’s really disappointing to see, Marie. I thought you were one of the good ones. Not some two-faced backstabbing witch. I hope I am wrong about you. I am still grateful for each and everybody involved in my rescue. That includes people that lost their lives. Violet died to stop Havoc. If there’s anybody who should be fighting for her memory… It should be me. She gave me another chance at life. I will carry her spirit in my heart and do the best I can to remain the Goddesses Champion. Her sacrifice wasn’t in vain as you’re making it out to be. And the only reason anybody could feel that way was if they were being selfish. Marie, you’d be committing a sin. It’s not something you want to do. We already have plenty of our sins to atone for. I will be spending the rest of my life trying to make things right and it still wouldn’t be enough. But that doesn’t mean I should stop trying. Just because I am not wrapped around in bandages, doesn’t mean that I am not hurt. And just because I am not buried six feet under, doesn’t mean that I am not dead inside.

You can shame me and blame me for all your problems if that brings you satisfaction. I will be the scapegoat if you need me to be. Take out all of your frustrations, Marie. If you need a shoulder to cry on, I can even do that for you. But I am not just a crash dummy. I am not going to sit there and be villainized. You’re twisting the public’s preconceived notions about me and using that against me for the overwhelming support in your favor heading into our match. Some people really want to see you win. A LOT of them just want to see me lose. You can’t just twist the narrative whenever it suits you. You fought alongside us because you wanted to. Nobody asked you to do it. Or was it all a publicity stunt to put the world on notice? It’s crazy how few words could change how you view somebody. I liked you, Marie. I was thankful to you. Now, I feel like I am being used as an obstacle to boost your career.

Yeah, I am broken. Yeah, my life is a fucking mess. Yeah, I have thought about ending it all. But don’t let my weakness fool you. When we enter the squared circle, I will not remember who you are and what you did for me. I will only see someone who has been running my name into the mud. Someone who has been ignorant of my struggles just because it doesn’t fit the narrative that she wants to portray to the world. I am the villain and I have been so for the last year. You don’t need to twist the narrative to change people’s minds. I am sure there are people who would agree with you if you simply pointed your finger at me and said I was at fault. But you took it a step too far. You refused to acknowledge my pain. You plastered your typical heroic jargon and framed me as the monster not giving a damn about how that would make me feel. You should be ashamed of yourself, Marie. For somebody as righteous as you claim to be, you sure know how to kick people while they’re down. Don’t let your emotions cloud your sense of judgment. And if this is who you TRULY are, then it’s despicable how heartless you can be.

I may never be whole again. But even in my worst state, I am more than willing to kick your ass. You’re fake, Marie. Your sympathy and worry toward me were fake. And now your anger toward me seems to be as fake as you are. Do you even care about what happened to Violet or is it all just an act to secure the Goddesses Championship? When you walked down the ring and asked me for a title shot… I was more than willing to oblige. That was the least I could do to repay you in any way possible for what you did. But now, you’ve flipped a switch. You act differently from how you were before. Once you secured the title shot, you took the mask off and said how you truly felt, didn’t you? Fine. If that’s how you want to play, we can do that.

I will not lose to a woman who refuses to see anybody else’s pain but hers. You seem more upset about having to relinquish the tag team championships than Violet’s death. So you quickly tried to replace it in your trophy cabinet with another piece of hardware. How shallow can you really get, Marie? My emotions are REAL. My pain is REAL. Your scars will heal one day while the damage that was done to my mind may NEVER heal. I can’t live forever like this. It’s almost as good as accepting death. But damn you, I WILL try. I will fight. I will be better one day. For my friends. For my family. For Chris. For the kids that I will have one day. I want to experience everything beautiful that life has to offer. I want to be a mother one day. I want to get old with the love of my life. I want to be myself again. Is it too much to ask? Do I not deserve to be happy? What do you want from me, Marie? Should I slit my wrists and call it a fucking day to make you happy? IS THAT IT?!

*Hana is breathing heavily as her emotions get the better of her. There’s a lot of pain in her eyes as she talks about everything that happened. While the willingness to fight is still there inside the Crimson Lioness, her mind is holding her back from making any significant progress.*

I can’t let the intrusive thoughts win. I am battling every day even after that monster is gone. But that’s my life now. I have come to accept that with Chris’ help. If I lose the Goddesses Championship now, it means that I let Havoc get a win over me even in defeat. All the terrible things he used to tell me… About how I would never be good enough. I can’t imagine what games my mind will try to play on me if I lose now. No. I have to show the world that I am willing to fight. I am not going to let my mind become a weakness. Something my opponents could exploit. I can’t let that happen.

I might not be there all the way mentally but Marie is going to get the best of me. I am going to use my fighting spirit… I am going to use the love of my husband and the support he has shown me… That will be my fuel. I will not lose now. I can’t. This is my only path to redemption. I have to not waver. I WILL WIN!

Christopher Sabertooth, Jeff X, #BeLikeBea, DT The Ruler and Tyler Kulina have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos April 28th 2023, 12:24 am by **Michael Bishop**

Memento Mori

I’ll never get tired of this moment: The dusk before war, the few waning hours moments before that eleventh hour ends and the clock strikes midnight- Ding. Ding. Ding. Anxiety is a killer, nerves will end you far before anything your opponent throws at you. A long time ago in West Asia, an old mentor taught me a proverb to say while wrapping my hands; First you must accept the fact that when you take the first step to war, you can die, and if you do not the cost will live with you for the rest of your life. Next, whatever you do, let it be righteous, the consequences of what you do will outlive you. If an ounce of malice corrupts any action, you will be no better than what you fight. Fear lives in the soul of every person, if you let it paralyze you it becomes your undoing. To let it become your aide-memoire, your reminder to be cautious, then you will avoid mistakes while on the field of battle. Lastly: what comes next is from your own hands, victory favors the determined, so let every strike ring true, and let your will to win be unified. After that, arise… Midnight is here.

The ability to innovate yourself at the highest level is a key component in staying relevant in a landscape that is constantly shifting. No one style stays around forever, and the sooner one learns this, the sooner they will stop eating the earth. What separates a cage fighter from a martial artist? Both originate from the hell that is the steel linked landscape but one thrives, and the other dies. The same thing that separated me from my Fight Club brothers, what has created the gap between me and every single person on Kingdom, in OWA, in the squared circle. The world is a big place, and in this industry it’s full of people willing to invest in their career and success off of your body and soul. There is only one way to succeed there, through every exchange… a wise man once said that the universal language is violence. He’s correct, and when it comes to that I am multilingual. Catching a man hitting a 450 splash in a d’arce choke, stacking the top two of the division up and crushing them both in a Jackhammer, the cunningness to follow up split second dodges, with lightning fast counters.

My highlight reel is full of fighters, submission specialists, strikers, masters at their craft dragged through a meat grinder and disposed of- in their prime, at their peak. My brutality has shocked the world time and time again, but the terror I instill in people comes from the ruthless efficiency of what I do. I am a master in my craft, a professional in the art of canvas and cage warfare. The gladiator who broke his chains, the mixed martial artist of OWA. Every accolade savagely earned, when I came, when I returned, my ferocity impacted the whole fuckin’ industry and the effects are still being seen today. A man who spoke with focus, weaponizing the sheer fuckin’ will inside of him to drop anyone, to stop anyone. You see when adrenaline hits, those memories are burned photographically into your mind: the largest arena in the world screaming, the opponent begging, and afterwards? Silence: It’s golden, it’s gratifying, it is commanding, and it is respect. You better get ready for some shock and awe, because I know what it’s like to be tired, exhausted, spent in those final minutes- and I also know that I will continue to cut and kill when it counts. Final minute, make it count.

Through all the ridicule, I am asked how can I continue to do this as a husband, a father? The greatest mistake in human history is believing that when a war is one, conflict will never return. It always will, the ying-yang will battle for supremacy and so you must always be there to draw the line and bleed for it. Jeff and I understand that well, men like us have a job to do, and god help any son of a bitch dead, alive, divine, or unholy who stands in our way. That being said, Jeff, we are opponents in this and until all is said and done, we are enemies between those bells. Spineless is the man who fights the brother he trusted with his life, and does not acknowledge that the same capability now faces them. I know you better than anyone else knows you; Kenny, Aria, Stark, Chris, Theo, Arata, Felix. I know your strengths; the type of man who will crawl out of hell just to fight in the same day, getting bashed in the head with a bat just to walk out of the asylum head held high. I also know your weaknesses, where the damage of warfighting has caught up to you, where age has inhibited you, the phantom scars that are waiting to be opened. You’re not a one dimensional man, you’re one of the most dangerous men on Kingdom, congrats- I am pound for pound the deadliest motherfucker on the brand. I’ve buried more men than a khan, all of them at my hands, when you are in there with me heavyweight health insurance skyrockets, and you lose moments of your life for every PSI.

I never stopped being that, I never will, if anything season 5 has told me that to be the premiere son of a bitch here, I need to step it up. What better way to do that than the biggest main event in the company’s history, where continents will be watching to see who will win. You’re a grand slam champion, and a first billet Hall of Famer when the time comes, me? I’m not done yet, not even close, don’t worry old friend when whatever crawled out of hell comes knocking we will answer with overwhelming fury. But for now, we fight, after this you won’t be the only two time OWA World Champion in Frontline, but you will be the only one with a reign that lasted sub-five minutes. This company needs people willing to toe-the-line, set the standard, put men like Stark to the fuckin’ sword, and keep the top of the world worthy. In that championship I see prestige for every battle fought, every triumph, every day of every year of this company. I see a better future where people won’t have to bet against the nepotism of a generation long since washed up, fighting in the gutter like we had to. I see the sixth year of OWA being it’s best, it’s most violent, it’s most competitive. That can only be manifested by someone who’s still got gas in the tank, an answer for every kick, cutter, and hold, and the will to get evil when it matters. No matter what happens after this, I will always have your back, but make no mistake- I am walking out of OWA5 victorious, as the proven and absofuckinlutely undisputed World Heavyweight King. Whether you are first to drop, or the last to stand up, you will not pass.

Shall not pass. Verdun; when the men in that pit found themselves surrounded on all sides by overwhelming odds, they dug their heels in, sharpened their blades, and stood tall. They needed to win this battle, if they lost everything would crumble and so much hardship would be for nothing. With no other option, they took the last breath of clean air, and called out; they shall not grow old, they shall not win, there is no time to die because they shall not prevail. This must be done. A lot of similarities in this match, the stakes of which were all pointed out by you Stark. Fired up? Good, about fucking time someone pushed you to the ropes and forced you to to show some ferocity. You find out who a person truly is when they’re fearing for their life, who they choose to be in what could be their final moments. You, Stark? Arrogance, the conflicted anger of a man who tries so hard to be self destructive, then furious when he is seen as a joke and now seeks for validation. That’s what I see you as Stark, a fuckin’ joke. Everything you have done has been for shock value and momentary hysteria, and it’s pissed you off to realize that in this match you are completely outdone by every single person surrounding you. ‘Cause everything you are is temporary, all of the people who thought were your friends lived careers that will be etched in stone and yet here you are. Stagnant, meaningless, and when I peel that title off your body you will be forgotten before the arena’s lights are even turned off. I’m not a soldier, I’m the greatest heavyweight of all time, proven on every continent, against everyone I’ve faced. When I act it is decisive, when I win it is uncontested. When I march to war it is life threatening; We won the first Great War, and no amount of tin foil hat wearing, flat earther level denial you can spout will change that. Havoc ran all the way to So-Fi, where he died in the center of the ring. Dimensional Warfare was a hard day, you’re right, Emmanuelle stepped up- and you did jack fucking shit. You hopped around the forest, dodging opponents with shadow clones, until you got chased by Jeff and Wakefield. After that? Gone. A perfect case example of your career: 5 minutes of inconsequential hilarity, nothing accomplished, then gone before the paint’s dry.

You really love bringing up that loss to Jason, don’t you Stark, cause it’s the one thing you’ve got on me. Everyone loses, Stark, you let it define you, then it will dictate your actions and you will never recover. One match doesn’t make or break me, but it did for you, didn’t it? That civil war title match revitalized your career because it was your hail mary, and it’s the same reason you sweat bullets everytime you remember what’s on the line in this match. For you, it’s everything. Without it? You’re just the bankrupt CEO, who got ran out of Japan, ran out of EAW, balled up for five years because like the the drug addicted fuck you got given that belt from, you can only win fights from those who can’t hit back. The same reason you dared to threaten my daughter, fought I forgot that? Actions have consequences, Stark, words matter, and you will have a fuckin’ tab to pay and a pound of flesh to give before the end of the night. Bring up my wife’s name like she ain’t taller than you and could beat the shit out of you, you five-foot, passed around New York, fuck. You’re gonna wish it was anyone but me in there, because I will make you beg for your life, and I will snap the arm that taps out and grants me the OWA World Championship.

You sit there clutching the title, holding it close because you know your days with it are turning into hours, that will be ended in mere seconds. History will put everything in its place, Stark. The main event of OWA5 will ask the question; who truly represents Kingdom? What is OWA? The answer? Success through merit, redemption through grit, determination in the face of defeat, humility when victorious. Started from nothing, became the best, you want me to prove you I am the man I say I am? I’ll show you. See you soon, motherfucker.

Credibility is fought for, it’s earned and yet the very next day everyone will be doubting you, and you must always be willing to renew that again, and again. When you fight at the highest level, everyone will be slicing at your heels, hoping to get a piece of you, by the end of the year no one came knocking, I took the fight to them. That’s a fighting champion, one who shakes off stagnation, inaction is the death of any fighter. To be the best, you have to prove it against every soul who dares to step up, the top of the mountain is lonely because of it but I am its King.

Monarchy is all flattery at the end of the day, Aria, the whatever of the ring is determined by those who watch. We all started from point zero, square one, us being here was determined years ago the day we chose to become the combatants we were meant to be. World title gold is earned on those early days where you want to quit, when you’ve got nothing, and could die a nobody. It’s won those cold mornings you’re sprinting through the cold, pushing your blood to pump harder, your heart to pound faster, taking that leap of faith no one says you will make. Everyone has an ego, we walk down the ramp embrace the crowd, and kill for gold on leather- rationality keeps it from becoming hubris, ambition keeps the pistons seeking for more. It brought you back, it brought me back, there’s nothing like going from barely being able to walk, to sprinting across the ring and connecting the same knee that was too far gone, with the skull of someone I was never “good enough” to stand across, in a single long fuckin’ year.

Aria, you I’ve always respected you for our similar outlook against adversity. Many have tried to drag you down, remind you of blood you spilled when you dyed your hair black. I’m not gonna judge, I’ve buried young men underneath the canvas for less. It’s who we are, it’s what we do, if you’re gonna stand as one of OWA’s big five you’re gonna make mistakes, hurt people, and need to pay your ounce in redemption. I trusted you with my family’s safety after Civil War, because no matter has happened between us you’re one of the few in this fucked up world of ours that knows what’s right, what’s wrong, and what’s downright fucked. One day Lita will grow up to learn about me, she’s going to learn every detail, the good, the bad, the ugly- she had to. We are who we are in our brightest moments, because of our darkest hours. We stand atop the peak, because of who we are in the gutter, and the pyramid of skulls we had to built along the way. I could think of no one else I’d rather stand across here than you, Aria. You are proven and dangerous, and you will lose. You’re seeking to enact a second coming that while I recognize your ambition, I don’t think you have the will or spiritual capability to succeed in. You are no one’s stepping stone, but right now you are my enemy. To take the throne, to become the king, to win the title, to reign on Kingdom, to be the best in the world and to win OWA’s biggest main event… I must defeat one of the biggest legends they’ve ever had: You. I have, I must, and I will.

There must be nothing left unsaid, no question left unanswered, this is as high of a level as it’s ever going to get so bet the goddamn house because it is all or nothing. You’re right though, Kenny. Eventually one day my body is going to break down, I’m going to get old, I’m not going to be able to move anymore. However that day is not today, not any time soon, and despite the hopes and dreams of my opponents it will not be a factor in this match. You said it yourself, Kenny, I’m a guy who is as entwined with death as a cemetery's gate. Flirting with the void every single time I walk down that ramp, between those ropes, and step into the center. It’s a constant thought, a looming presence, and there was a time it hung over me like a looming shadow- no more. I will not be haunted by death or paralyzed by the idea that one day.

Memento Mori: “Remember that you will die”, in old times roman generals had their second in command repeat this to them in order to keep them grounded, focused, humble. In modern times, it’s a phrase that reminds us of the fragility of who we are, and that our actions will outlive us ten fold. Kingdom needs someone capable of setting the standard through absolute retribution. It can only be me, it has to be me, it will be me.

The OWA World Championship stands as the top belt of the top brand of the top company in Professional Wrestling. Make no mistake, all eyes are on this match, continents are watching, and the world is waiting to see who moves, who blinks first, who will fall, and who will rise. The fifth year of OWA cannot be defined by nostalgia, ego, or bitterness. It has to be better than that, it will be better than that. Once, I stumbled, I fell, sometimes I have to learn mistakes the hard way. That’s fine, because by the end of the night I will be the OWAC. Determined, definitive, undisputed… Michael Bishop.

See you soon.

Diantha Rosso, Christopher Sabertooth, The Banshee, #BeLikeBea and Felix Hartley have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos April 28th 2023, 12:13 am by **Revy**

EDIT: IF YOU ARE IN THE TAG TEAM TLC MATCH, THIS IS A SENA PROMO. THAT'S RIGHT, I SAID "SENA" NOT CENA! YOU SHOULD BE ABLE TO SEE THIS! MAN TRIED TO DEADLINE BOMB Y'ALL BUT THE WEBSITE WAS BEING WACK AF. BUT I, NOBLE AND HONEST FUDGE, SHARPY, GOOSE, CAN VOUCH THERE WAS AN ATTEMPT MADE BEFORE THE DEADLINE, AND THUS THIS SHOULD BE COUNTED. OTHERWISE, YOU A BITCH. GRACIAS!

I know what you’re trying to do, Donovan. You know that I’m still upset about how things went down when we last wrestled, how I was distracted long enough to plant me into the ground and have me looking up at lights. You know that I have spent everyday thinking about ways to get better, ways to stand up and look you in the face and give you the ass kicking of a lifetime. But what I’m not going to do is have you pour that honeyed potion in my ear and make me someone that I’m not meant to be. One thing that I’ve noticed lately is that a lot of people seem to gravitate towards their worst natures once they start hanging out with you. Raivo was already an insufferable prick before he started to team with you, but with you at his side he’s become even more of a degenerate. He’s a great wrestler masquerading as some oppressed victim when he’s just been beaten fair and square when his opportunities have come. Diantha used to attempt to have something resembling a conscience before meeting you. But…you corrupted her, bit by bit. Do you think I’m stupid enough to not know the story, how deep the connections are? You think I don’t notice that Diantha only went completely off the deep end once you and her were in that Ascension to the Heavens match against one another and you pushed her over the edge? You saw a chance to create a useful ally, a powerful chess piece on the board, and you took it.

And now, in some ways, you’re trying to do the same to me. You’re an expert at backhanded praise, you know that? And in some ways, I’m tempted to be appreciative of it. You have been someone that I’ve seen wrestle for quite some time and I know all the lore with you and Carlos. But let’s skip to the point: You don’t respect me. At all. You don’t think that I’m anywhere near the caliber of the other graduates like Emmy. You don’t believe in me at all and you’re just goading me into a fight so you can have an advantage. You have a hard time believing my claims and honestly, I would too if I was in your position. My win-loss record is shit. My record against you is shit. My team’s record against your team is shit. But all of that has been done in the context of other bullshit happening around us. We’ve never had that one completely open and fair fight to truly show what the other is capable of.

But, in a situation where there are no rules, I have that chance.

I have been waiting for this opportunity for a while. Could I have cut to the line sooner with Tyler and made this just a one team affair before the Olympus guys got involved? Sure. But we’re here now. And we’re ready. Everyone keeps saying “I don’t believe you! I don’t think you’re ready.” If we were to all just accept what naysayers said about us all the time, none of us would get to where we are. There are a lot of differences between the six of us, but one thing that we all have in common is to defy expectations. Laz and Darkane defy expectations for what an actual sane relationship between associates should look like. DT and Raivo defy expectations with their very presence. A lot of people probably, and unfairly considering their talent, didn’t believe they’d take the titles away from Murder Inc. But they did. Nevermind Laz walking out of that match and one of the champions literally being KILLED during the bout, but a win is a win.

You doubt me, Donovan.

When this match is over, you won’t. You’re going to feel something when I strike you this time. It may not be the familiar impact of my mentor, but something distinct. Something truly mine. You want a Sena that could actually pose a challenge? You will get that. But you won’t get it at the expense of my friend Tyler or our quest to become the Tag Team Champions. There’s a job to be done, but if there’s an opportunity to mix business with the personal, I’m going to take it up.

Raivo, we know you guys have beaten us before, can you please shut the fuck up? I’m sick of your face, I’m sick of your voice. I’m sick of everything about you and I want to kick you in the face just on principle. And if anyone has been prostituting themselves, I’m pretty sure Diantha’s giving you the strap-on once in a while seeing as she’s saved your asses so many times she probably owns a timeshare in it now. You know down in that thick skull of yours that we have very much a justification for a rematch. You are just being obtuse and trying to big-time everyone and I was tired of it yesterday. When did being honest become soft? When did telling the truth about what motivates us make us look soft?

Whatever.

You don’t ever think that we’ll be ready, but as I’ve said about 85858 fucking times now, it doesn’t matter what you think. The only thing that matters is what happens when that bell rings. We are trying to figure out what era you guys have built as champions? Where’s all the other tag teams? Where’s the main event? Where’s the prestige? This is a big match, but if your era was so damn special and so damn important, we’d be the main event. But we’re not.

So that means these championships have some more room to grow, don’t they?

At least I think so. And Tyler does too. And apparently so does the Seventh Ward, since they want to make the division their new plaything since, again, they couldn’t hack it in the big time of Olympus. We will make sure that the tag team division takes the step forward it needs. Do you get what I’m saying to you? Your service, as shitty as it was, is no longer required as champions. We’re going to take those belts off your hands and be infinitely better owners.

But the Seventh Ward wants absolutely no part of that. They have their own ambitions that, in a twisted way, I respect. What would be a better way to draw people to you to do all your sick snuff film fetish shit with than having gold around your waist? Darkane, the Graveworm. I have seen you at work from afar for so long, I’m actually tingling with excitement to face you. You may look at me, some little rookie young lion, barely out of the dojo, and laugh when I say that I want to find out where I stand but I absolutely do. I know what you’re capable of and even though I think you’re a bully and a piece of shit, that doesn’t mean that you’re not someone who could rip a heart out and not think twice. You’re the genuine article when it comes to people that you don’t mess with in the squared circle.

But this isn’t going to be your story, your storm, your revolution to lead. You have made your intentions clear and your declarations loud, but that doesn’t mean that you’ll get to live up to them. You see, Tyler and I have our own ambitions, our own vision for those titles. We want to take it back to the days when people actually defended them with some shred of honor, like Heart and Seoul, Murder Inc, Zaibatsu, the Nice Guys.

We want to restore and build upon the respect and credibility of this division that it once held. We want to make a true division, not a playground for our fetishes.

As for you, Laz, I didn’t tell you about the people who helped us for you to care. I didn’t tell you about my determination for you to give a fuck. I just want to tell you, to your face, what we’re about and how we’re going to beat you, just as you’re telling us. You say that you’re the only ones that were left standing that mattered? Millions of fans across the world would disagree with you. The Queens of Wrestling have captured the imaginations of many people and have inspired countless wrestlers into this sport, myself included. I owe them a great debt for having the careers that they have had, because if not for their inspiration, I may have not even been a wrestler in the first place. We matter because we’re in this match too. We matter because Tyler and I have been working our asses off to get to this point.

And if you think we’re going to fail again, just because you’re involved, you may want to rethink that. I’ve been threatened with violence before. That’s not deterred me. People die every day. People hurt every day. People suffer. But those that get the greatest reward are those that endure the most. And guess what, we’re willing to endure. Hell, we’ve endured FTM and you guys trashing us for even daring to exist for two weeks. We’ve endured challenges, fights with monkeys, and everything else that has been thrown our way.

And we’re better for it. We know that you and Darkane are very tough, very dangerous men, but we’d like to think of ourselves as being pretty tough too. Not in the “Duurrrrrrrrrr IM GONNA KEEEEEEEL you” kind of way, but in a beat the fuck out of you and get as dirty and as vicious as we need to to win kind of way. Why does everyone think because they can hurt somebody that means they have what’s required to win a match like this? You have to be able to withstand punishment, withstand the storm, withstand the bullshit and the doubters and the cynics.

Is there anybody better equipped for that than the Dojo Bros? Probably not.

Laz posed an interesting question to me: What happens when we win the titles? What becomes of the Dojo Bros then? Well, I’ll tell you. We start bringing even more exciting matchups to the table as Tag Team Champions. We bring these belts back to their roots, going to Olympus to defend them against you or any other team that RIP can put together. We clash with you and FTM and anyone else who wants to try us. We maybe even have a match somewhere down the line with the Odyssey Champions.

We don’t want these titles to be paperweights, we don’t want these titles to become beacons of blood and despair! WE WANT THEM TO FUCKING MEAN SOMETHING AGAIN!

Nothing more, Nothing less.

There’s not really that much else left to say. There are many differences between us all: wrestling styles, lifestyles, fashion styles, hygiene styles. That’s what this division needs, that’s how we want to move things forward. We don’t have to be great yet. We don’t even have to be good. All we need is one moment of luck, one moment of inspiration, and we can walk out of the World’s Most Famous arena as Champions. The four of you have spent a lot of time having a dick measuring contest with each other and then regarding us as fodder because of our youth and the times that we have failed before.

The book of the future isn’t written by the past…it’s written by the hands of the present.

You guys really don’t have to take my word for it. As I told you before, OWA history is littered with example after example after example of men and women going beyond expectations, beyond what conventional wisdom says they can do and doing something spectacular. We’re more than ready for that, and we’re going to shock a lot of you for sure.

As for Emmanuelle, I couldn’t ask for a better manager. She’s looked after me, she’s molded me as best as she could, and she’s given me far more time than I could have asked for. I just want to pay it forward one time, one time to her, one time to Carlos and Sonya, one time to my tag partner Tyler.

One time.

We don’t have to be the best tag team in the world. We don’t have to be the best team in the arena. All we have to do is find a way to be at the right place at the right time to do it. And knowing you four, obsessed with money, power, and violence, You’ll present it to us. You’ll stumble. You’ll get greedy, clumsy, foolish, arrogant.

And you’re looking at the two handsome young men who are going to make you pay for it.

At OWA 5, The next chapter of the tag team division is going to be written, and that title will be

The Rise of the Dojo Bros, SUPER At Long Last.

The Banshee, #BeLikeBea, DT The Ruler and Tyler Kulina have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos April 27th 2023, 11:59 pm by **Stark**

OWA 5 PROMO THREE

OWA Promos - Page 6 Shinsuke-nakamura-united-states-champion

They say it's better for a fool to remain silent and let people only think that they are a fool, instead of opening their mouths and removing all doubt. Looks like my opponents at OWA5 decided to walk that high road this week. I guess that the Four Pillars of Mediocrity that OWA was built on, the four bozos that Oasis thought could ever have a chance against the World Champion, Stark, I guess that these four clowns who are going to put more effort into their special entrances than this match itself, I guess they just didn't have the balls to open their mouth in front of Stark.

People have asked me over the last few weeks what my true motives are here with my return, my shocking capture of the OWA World Championship, and my plan of burning OWA down and replacing it with SSW. Can this entire situation be summed up with that one question, that "why?".

Why am I doing this? It's simple. It's what every man wants when he laces up his boots for the first time and steps into a wrestling ring. It's what every man wants every minute of every day. It's what I've wanted my whole life.

All for freedom and pleasure. I want to rule this world.

No, there's no ulterior motive here like the other self-proclaimed martyrs you've seen like Arata Asakura, CM Nas, or even Kenny Drake himself when the Wolvesden was the top force in this company. I'm not doing this to exert some supernatural force of power like Sabertooth, Havoc, or Abholos.

Underneath everything else, every hat I've worn, every mask I've put on, every gimmick and song and dance I've ever done, I've had the most basic, grounded, human desire that just can't be satisfied. No matter how much I try to hide it, it always sees the light of day. No matter how much I try to ignore it, it takes over the forefront of my mind. No matter how much I try to feed it or appease it, it wants more. That is the cross I carry and that is the reason above all else, that is my creed and the well known modus operandi of Stark - I want EVERYTHING this world has to offer. I want wealth, fame, power, influence, and control. I want it all. I want the respect that comes with being World Champion of the biggest wrestling promotion. I want the power of being the boss, of being the one above all both in the ring and backstage, I want to take control of the world's biggest wrestling promotion and make sure that the name that stays on everyone's mind is STARK.

I can't sit back and watch as Strong Style Wrestling which I poured all of my heart and soul into, a company that I led to victory in "Civil War" against OWA had to be put aside, take a clear second place to a company led by that charlatan Scott Oasis. Look at this home that Scott Oasis has made. On all appearances it is a castle unlike any other, a perfect beautiful utopia of wrestling that was built on the backs of all of the men and women he's helped thrive. For five years OWA has stood on the mountaintop of the wrestling industry. We've seen promotions come and go - WrestleWorld and Project Honor, we've seen OWA take over the established ground - EAW and JETLAW, but there's one promotion that even OWA, that even Scott Oasis with his ego and hubris had to acknowledge on the same level - Strong Style Wrestling.

Oasis, I'm going to show you now that your precious OWA can fall just as easily as the other companies who got too big for their own good. And it starts with the foundation of OWA. These four that you've put against me. I think you need to remind your golden boys how to promote a god damned wrestling match, radio silence during the week of OWA's biggest OWC match, the main event of the Fifth Anniversary, it's kind of shocking how little that your top guys had to say. But I can't blame them because what can anyone say to me anyways? I'm infallible, I'm perfect, but most importantly - I'm the best damn bullshitter that this industry has ever seen, and you know yourself I've gotten you to smell that syrup too Scott.

OWA was built on this weak foundation and I'm going to expose this place for the sham it is, the straw house that it is, a god damned house of cards that I've chipped away at until there's only one thing left for me to do, and that's huff, puff, and blow this damn thing into the wind. This place is going to be completely annihilated until the only place that OWA exists is in the bedrock underneath the new Strong Style Wrestling, in the memories of the wrestling fans who have traded in their OWA merch for SSW merch, and in the lamentations of the weaklings who couldn't stop Stark - Scott Oasis, the owner, Aria Jaxon, the golden girl herself, Kenny Drake, the failure of a General Manager, Michael Bishop, the failure of a father, and Jeff X, the false hero. This rogue's gallery of dog shit you've assembled is going to fall at my feet and reveal just how easy it always was to take OWA to the ground and the only reason you've been able to survive until now is because the threats that you thought would be a problem - your Golden Dawns, your Ashes of the Wake - they were nothing, NOTHING in comparison to the man who now is at the apex of his plan to destroy OWA from within, and there isn't anything left you can do to stop me.

I alone am going to prove that I am the single biggest threat in wrestling history, that I truly am a JUGGERNAUT, that I can single handedly bring even the strongest of wrestling promotions down to their knees in front of me. I will wipe this place clean off of the map and the only reason anyone will even REMEMBER OWA is because I am going to tarnish the memory of this place as much as I can to prove that the real "Civil War" wasn't just that one night Scott, I've been quietly waging my war for YEARS and OWA5 will be the perfect place to bury this company to rest.

I can already tell my opponents have thrown in the towel Scott. If this is the best you had in mind to take me on then you've failed as a promoter, you've failed as an authority figure. But that was always your problem in the first place. You always fall back on your old reliables because you're too much of a pussy to step foot into the future like I was always willing to. You were late on the boat with Aria Jaxon when she was the Ace of SSW from the very start. You had a fluke of a come-up with Jeff X but only God can tell me in the afterlife why you were stupid enough to send that man to Hell against Bull Connors instead of giving him the match against Kenny Drake - wait, I know why! Because you had to give Moongoose McQueen the chance to do what he could never do without you coddling him on his way to the top! And lord, don't get me started on Michael Bishop, this guy is probably too busy breastfeeding his daughter Lita right now instead of focusing on what's more important than some crying, shitty little mongrel - the OWA World Championship! Which he isn't going to win!

What else do I got left to say? This shit writes itself at this point. This is Stark's story, this is my season, this is my Kingdom, this is my OWA World Championship, this is my match, I'm the top guy, I'm the main character - and you know what makes this sad for that bozo Scott and his four little boy scouts he lined up against me? It's that there are people on Kingdom who are ready to take it to the next level, people who could probably beat me if they really REALLY tried, but Oasis didn't want to give those people the chance. He wanted to use his rusty tools and I'm going to show him how easily I can break them all apart. After I retain at OWA5, after I rebrand this place in my own image, I'll give all of those people Scott Oasis passes over for his old tricks a real chance against me.

See you all at OWA5, and Scott, be happy - everything you worked so hard to build will all end with a bang at the biggest show of your promotion's history. OWA dies on its Fifth Anniversary and from the ashes of your dynasty I will bring back my own. After I retain at OWA5, you all already know what we're gonna be calling this place.

Strong. Style. Wrestling.

Stark, Diantha Rosso, #BeLikeBea, Lazarus Arjen, Felix Hartley and Tyler Kulina have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos April 27th 2023, 11:59 pm by **Muhammad/Maggall**

Fuck Carolyn Bryant Donham, should have been in jail

But anyways.

Apparently, some of y’all are hard of hearing.

I said Theodore was losing.

In fact, add that bitch Moongoose getting pinned.

This is the big OWA anniversary, a celebration of half a decade. It’s very special to you all. I just wonder if catering will have a special cake for it?

Perhaps I shouldn’t take this so lightly, I’ve been here for a very long time, I was here for year one. That’s something you don’t know shit about Arata Asakura. Young blood, you think you’re better than winning third tier titles? Bitch, I almost defended the title prestige, but y’all ready let that hoe Ruri vacate the title and it really does make it look like a joke. This place really is quite strange sometimes, I ain’t even sure I can out outlandish you folks anymore with the crazy shit you do. Truly Outlaw shit, that title truly suits the things I’ve been seeing with this place since I’ve gotten involved with the magical and the sublime. Outlaw is the soul of this company!

But the only soul I care about is the black kind.

And I’ve really ran out of time, but oh well. Pavel fuck you, I don’t care about your Frontline drama, or Thotline, or whatever’s got you always being so awww I had to fight my friends, awww poor me Pavel, man shut up! Did yall forget this is the fighting business? You too Sabertooth, this isn’t your dating show, this isn’t Total Drama island where we waiting to see how you and Hana recover from your poor little Havoc STD. And you fake Arata, man I don’t even know what you are. I want the real Arata Akasura!

Mongoose, damn, you’re even lazier than me. This your family. You former world champion. You been gone for who knows how long. And coming back weak like this? At least I’m fat and had other things to do than talk with these idiots. You love talking. You love these people. Yet you still sitting pretty. I almost want to beat your ass as much as Theo.

Everyone always talking to me about how I haven’t won a world championship, as if so stupid I don’t realize I don’t tend to stick around long enough to make that much of a head way towards the title. Pick up some streets smarts you idiots, clearly I ain’t that hungry for your world gold if I’m not moving my ass towards the damn plate. I just come around to fuck people up, win whatever titles I can quick as a cracker’s whip, and spread the black message to the masses. That’s it. I’m not here to become an OWA legendary figure who stands above all else in how much work I did for this company. Workers are fools. You work tiressely for the next brass ring after the last brass ring like hamsters on a fucking wheel, and so what? You can end up like Arata? All his history replaced? And then he gets replaced with this lame pretender in this match. It’s a crazy world out there, better not to take it too seriously. Just don’t take it as easy as your boy Moongoose McQueen.

But Theo is the man I hate the most. I want to see him have a bad day. We easily could have dealt with those fools on my first night back, but he was some his bullshit. I don’t forgive him. He owes me reparations, but I know you oppressive folk that screw people over don’t know how to give back without violence forcing it. So that’s why I’m going to come to that ring during your little anniversary show and lay waste to all you lovey dovey OWA lovers with Theo on top. I’m tired of him pretending to be the sensible one, the professional one, when he the biggest bitch who let his emotions get in the way of me getting my W. We had an easy gameplan to follow Theo! But you wanted to play other games. Now I’m coming to play with you. You ain’t going like how I play. But you will accept it.

Diantha Rosso and #BeLikeBea have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos April 27th 2023, 11:56 pm by **El Landerson**

[when El invites his wife Angie and Daughter Aalyah landerson to the ring while Benito Molina
Stands in the middle of The OWA 5th ring and asking his family questions about the OWA Anniversary]

Benito Molina: landerson hombre. tell the whole world why you here on OWA.

Bit Luchador|Landerson: I'm here for one reason in that is Reginald Dampshaw third. for the Icarus Championship

Benito Molina: I'm glad to here that but first let's take you back of last month at Civil War when you had the three count in the Ref made a wrong decision to force Elijah Hamilton

that won three Championships at Civil War.

Bit Luchador|landerson: Civil War was a great match but the thing is though Benito I had Elijah Hamilton. right there in the middle ring with the three count but instead Elijah

reverse me with a three count and he picked up the victory over me at Civil War

but that's last month let's talk about my other opponent Reginald Dampshaw third. now he

wants to challenge me to a vacated OWA Icarus Championship at OWA 5th this weekend

but I got news flash for him when I beat that lunatic at OWA 5th then I will show the world that why i am the new OWA Icarus Champion on OWA 5th at OWA network.

Benito Molina: and what about you Ms landerson. does your husband has what it takes to beat Reginald Dampshaw for the Icarus Championship at OWA 5th.

landerson's wife|Angie landerson: I think my husband deserve to win that match when he beats the holly hell out of Reginald Dampshaw third and when my husband defeats him at OWA 5th that Icarus Champion belongs to E landerson and not Dampshaw third. in that's all I have to say about that.

Benito Molina: the most beautiful Daughter of landerson's Aalyah what about you does your father can leave out as the new Icarus Champion at OWA 5th.

Princess of the Six one nine|Aalyah landerson: I wish my father the best of luck and go kick Reginald dampshaw third ass at OWA 5th for the vacated Icarus Championship on OWA network.

{Angie and Aalyah exits out of the ring and left E landerson alone with Benito Molina}

Benito Molina: landerson. can you even defeat Reginald Dampshaw third. this weekend

Bit luchador|landerson: only hows the match gonna turn out cause once I beat him in front of thousands of people who will be seeing me become the new Icarus Champion at OWA 5th on OWA network.

Bit luchador| landerson Reginald Dampshaw third I'll see you this weekend at OWA 5th and I will be there new Icarus Champion on OWA network.

Bit luchador|landerson: and I'm gonna dial the number and hit Reginald damp shaw third with the Six one nine.

[landerson drops the mic and exits out of the ring and heads back to hid locker room to meet with his wife and Daughter and leaves Benitio Molina in the ring all by himself]

Diantha Rosso has spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos April 27th 2023, 11:53 pm by **Moongoose McQueen**

You right, Teddy, I never heard of this Mongoose McQueen guy either, but I’m sure he doesn’t appreciate that tone and attitude of yours, considering I see his name comes up more often then yours. While you spew theoreticals and feigning ignorance, I am spitting facts, I am living facts, that between everyone in this match, the only thing you have in common with anyone here is that perhap you and Maggell are on FBI’s watch list. You keep talking about how I need to experience a fight with you just once to get to know what you can do. That I need to experience a kick from you, but the truth is, I don’t. I already know for a fact that no matter how hard you can kick, it still isn’t enough to secure a world championship for you. So maybe instead of running that mouth of your, keep kicking or kick rocks. I don’t need to take this shit from someone’s whose greatest accomplishment is holding the Outlaw championship and eager to relapse back into it every time he steps out of his comfort zone, gets his ass handed to him, and falls back. I don’t give a shit about the Outlaw Championship Opportunity. You want it, have it. I don’t need to hold it tight and gasp at it to comfort me and tell myself I have value. I am a fighting champion, always a fighting champion, and its only a matter of time before you kick something or someone you shouldn’t, you break a leg and have nothing to stand on.

Maggell,.... You are an enigma. Can’t say in my long career, I’ve faced someone like you. The more you talk, the more I’m not sure what to think of you….Maybe Carlos Rosso… Only thing that is certain, they aren’t good things. Looking in your eyes, like I can’t tell if you are gonna fight me or try to eat me, but either way, Maybe stop staring at me like. Haven’t been this terrified since Abholos. I don’t know what your game is. I wish I had something to say about you that wasn’t all fat or terrorist jokes. After all, I probably shouldn’t be making terrorist jokes, and it’s wrong to make fun of fat people. So really, all I can say is “You Ugly!” and that’s probably why they feel the need to black out your image. I’m sure you are dangerous. After all, I think you have more reason to be in this match and Teddy, after all, I don’t believe you quite had your opportunity yet, because maybe OWA is afraid to put you in as the top billing. After all, with how “controversial” you seem to be, it’s almost as if we share the same problem of not getting our push, because of how we are. But the difference is, they can’t push you. This isn’t a fat joke. But rather they won’t push you, because, alas, here I am, tested, proven, and true! And as long as I’m here, you ain’t gonna be moving up. I’ve faced bigger men then you, and to this day, they never recovered. But hey, atleast you have the Unchained to fall back on to. They were pretty popular last time I checked.

Chris… Chris Cross… Chrisy Chris. So you speak, and as much as you are trying so hard to massage my ego while telling me that I shouldn’t be here, you can drop the act. I don’t need my ego stroked and I’m sure you were just taking a shot to see maybe I’ll drop it and move on, but I’m not a forgetful person. Don’t forget, you and I have history. You can keep reminding people about what Chris Sabertooth and Jeff has done. You can handpick all the good that you’ve done, You can distract me but talking about how I “over-delivered.” Whatever the fuck that really means. But in the end, … I think everyone has let you off far too easy. Especially yourself. In a weird way, you under-delivered. After all, you are talking about walking away from that part of you, Havoc. And while I don’t sense his presence in you, I don’t think you should be moving on so quickly, after all, as far as I can tell, Havoc still exists and is alive and well, continuing to be destructive. And if you ask me, Chris, you spend far too much time in our own pity party that you don’t feel the need to correct what you’ve wronged. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve done my fair share of horrible things. But I controlled my destructive tendencies, only intended to hurt those that I wanted to hurt. Your failures in controlling Havoc lead to the death of Kenny Drake and possibly the world. Or did you conveniently forgot that? Sure, you had your redemption arc. Died to save the world, and I suppose you think that is fair, you are square and now all you have to focus on is winning the world title again as “Chris Sabertooth.” But last I heard, Havoc is still out there, probably in some other victim’s body, using it’s power to win titles, just like it did with you. And you are really surprised by the fact that I would dare question your credibility when Havoc probably carried you through your biggest most defining moments of your OWA career? You’ve known me for so long. I don’t sugarcoat the truth when it comes to you, and it’s absurd that Jeff and the rest of OWA universe forgives you. Heck, even as I return, I question the reaction that I’ve received, but it’s just proof they will cheer for anyone and have the attention span of a goldfish. Hell I can raise a mic in the air, shout to the sky, THE GOOOOSE… IS LOOSE! And everyone loses their mind. They say to forgive … is divine. But if you ask me… it’s a cop out because the truth is, you aren’t strong enough or capable of correcting your fatal mistakes. I’m happy you found friends that will support you and that you would fight for, but as far as I’m concerned, Chris, you have far too much skeletons in our closet you need to clear out first before you can go on your world title clout chase. You might have accomplished so much outside of OWA, but here in OWA, Let’s see how well you do against me without Havoc. Afterall, over-delievering, would be me going to any federation desperate to hire anyone and winning their world championship and posting it on social media for everyone to praise. And maybe ou think, all those cheers will drown out the fact you gave in, you were weak, and it almost doomed us all. Don’t give yourself too much credit. Mentally, you haven’t grown the last time I faced you. If it wasn’t for Havoc or whatever plot device deux ex machina, you wouldn’t be here today. Because you played a part in bringing me back, I won’t beat the shit out of you for almost killing us all to begin with. And I’m being serious. With what I’ve learned and gained this past year, I’m confident I can beat Havoc, but with Chris Sabertooth, there was never a threat from you to begin with.

As for Arata Asakura, I mean, not “my Arata Asakura.” After all, you are not of this universe. Tell me, what brings you here. Catch me up? Doesn’t matter, any respect I have of you is long gone, not because of the actions of your other version, but because you have come here to ride off his coat tail in hopes of a fresh start. At this point, it feels like something a lazy person would write, but we’ve experienced crazier things. I say this, because I remember the first time I fought Arata. I felt there was something special about him. I wanted to recruit him for my team, because I felt I could take him to new heights and I meant it when I said I was ready to place him in the front before even myself to prove that I was right. I told him he was wasted in the frontlines. Unfortunately, I was too right, as our Arata went on some homicidal tyrannical villain origin story, but regardless, I was right. You would think, same person, you must share those same qualities. But looking at you… it just ain’t there. There is nothing special about you. We have already seen this act once, and now suddenly, you think lightning will strike twice just because he is gone and you are here? I’d hate to break it to you, but it sounds more to me like you failed in your universe, and you jumped on to the one universe where it did work out for you, but you don’t have the balls to do what our universe’s Arata did to get there, but you still tell yourself that this is home, this is where you will succeed, and you will do it your way, based on talent and skill. Let me tell you, “Arata.” I had all the skill and talent. I had the people behind me. I had charisma out the wazoo and it didn’t put me where I rightfully deserved. Whether you like it or not, not everyone gets to be your Jeff X, Aria Jaxon, or Chris Sabertooth, where you have everything they have, but he has an X in his name, she has a vagina, and he does blackface. I don’t know how it was in your universe, but if I had to make a decent guess, it’s just like here, where there are hundreds of people just like you who thinks they are hot shit. But me, I had to tear down walls and barriers to finally get the recognition, so let me ask you, Arata. In your universe, how was Moongoose McQueen there? Was he soft? Was he a champion? Or maybe he didn’t exist? And maybe you know what? That was the issue. Maybe that was YOUR issue. Because I believe that if our Arata had taken my offer, he would be one of the most decorated champions in OWA, but now, he is a loser that had to rely on the powers of gods to win the world title. And you are telling us all that you won’t take that power and do the exact same thing to get the attention and respect you so desperate crave? That’s just it, Arata. You ain’t hungry enough. I don’t see it in your eyes. I see a man who took a short cut and can only work off the name of someone who wasn’t afraid to do it all. I might as well call you Arata Asakura Jr, because all I can see is a boy trying to step out of those shadows, but won’t because all the talent and wins in the world won’t mean anything from what appears to be the most vanilla version of you in the multi-verse you can be! It’s only a matter of time. You’ll try to win the world title… I’ll beat you to it, and off you go, skedaddle to another universe that will be easier. I suppose there is no shame in going to the menu, restarting a save file and lowering the difficulty, but believe me, my “Arata” would had never gotten to the point he got to if it weren’t for guys like me to push him to it. We’ll see how long it takes for you to fold. Either you will do the same thing he did or you will run. Either way, makes no difference to me and my end game.

I will win this match, and I will secure my spot in the Clash. And I will do what I do best and once again, elevate the status of the main event, the world championship, and OWA as a whole.

Diantha Rosso and #BeLikeBea have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos April 27th 2023, 11:52 pm by **Tyler Kulina**

OWA Promo 5 #3

“Downplay”

(The scene opens to Tyler Kulina sitting at a table with a hand of cards in his hand. He’s sitting in a dark room where only his face and dark clothes are showing.)

Of course DT goes on a bitchfest. At this point, it’s is M.O. I’m not surprised that he’s going to play the victim card. That seems to be a habit of FTM as of late. When you call them out on their bull, they run and hide like a bunch of animals in a Bambi flick. They claim to be innocent, they claim to be for their own people, but what does the first thing they do when pair of sistas challenge them on their terms, they screw over the very people they claim to be representing. They’re hypocrites, man. Just like every other so-called savior in this company and everywhere else in the history of man. I love how DT dedicate an entire speech to Darkane. Once he found some actual competition, you saw how he got a little shook once he felt a legitimate threat was in his midst. Well, that’s alright. He can keep up the act. I want FTM to stay shook. I want Raivo to keep running his mouth until the Energizer batteries in his back dies out. I want DT treat Sena and I as a couple of under developed whelps.

Keep underestimating us.

Sena and I want the opposition to not take us seriously because when it’s time to show up to the dance, we got something planned that neither team has seen before. We have a special delivery for our opponents and I’m not talking Matsuda’s Package Piledriver. And personally, I’m glad we’ll be able to grant this gift to our rivals because they feel we have nothing to offer. Heck, Raivo feels like nobody can check him! He’s this unstoppable My Buddy doll held safely in the arms of SIR DT! Like Princess Peach being saved by an Italian plumber, but darker and looks snazzy in a business suit. As much as I want to pull out a piano and sing “Raivo” in the tone of “Peaches”, I’m not. But what I’d like to discuss is how FTM think they’re the heroes of this story. They think they got it all in the bag, and that everything is going to go their way. They think they have “the game” figured out, but they don’t. They know their time is up, which is why they’re getting more bold, brasher, speaking louder. Even someone has calm as DT got his nerve struck, even if he won’t admit it. And Gio? He’s been quiet on the TL lately. Diantha’s been barking like the bitch she is, but that’s nothing new. In fact, none of this is new. All of this is the same Family Circus on the comic page. In a way, I can understand FTM’s frustration. We all been there, done that already. Other than the stipulation and the addition of Taking Back Friday (winks) this is really the same dog and pony show. But, there is a difference this time around. It’s the ending. It’s the changing of the story, how there’s going to be a different outcome, much different than anyone has anticipated. Dojo Bros. will leave with those titles, we will complete the story- OUR. FREAKING. STORY.

Raivo has grown tired of talking to me because he knows that I know that he’s full of shit. He won’t admit it openly, but his bravado has fallen on deaf ears. Why? Because he tells the same tale: undermining us while insulting Emmanuelle’s age. It’s all he can say, and if he fights like his talk, then he’ll be performing the same bullshit moves in the ring. It’s like renting the same movie from Blockbuster over and over again. As much as you like it, you know you can find better, but they’re always out of your favorite movies and games. As for Seventh Ward, they’re HBO. They got all of the hits you heard before that the kids on the street likes. They’re going to go on about pain and destruction and how they’re going to violate our existence. Sometimes I wonder if they’re threatening us or if they’re trying to flirt with us. No offence guys, buy I think I’m good. Sen and I don’t need any of you to give a shit about us. We don’t need you to believe in us. We have our mentors for that. We have the support of our fans for that. The only thing we need to do is go in and win the damn thing. That’s the only thing on the minds of the Dojo Bros.

If the Seventh Ward is the disease, then we’re the cure. The cure that will save fans from tired old clichés and false prophets. It’s like we’re fighting a pair of scamming preachers and two Goth kids from the South Park episode. I will agree with Darkane though. For the Minorities are some of the biggest clout chasers I’ve ever seen. They’re willing to do anything for attention, to be seen and heard. You’d think they were the Kardashians and considering what the Kardashians normally go for, I wouldn’t be surprised if I see one of them shacked up with a sister, or hell even the mother. Then again that might be more DT’s speed than Raivo’s. FTM is a locker room cancer, and the Seven Ward is are the Mongols to our China. No matter how big the Kingdom wall is, they aim to tear it down.

They aim to scare us from this fight, they leave us shaking in our boots. I’ve read enough Goosebumps books in my lifetime to not be scared of anything Darkane and Laz throws at us. I was raised on old Tales from the Crypt episodes and old B movies. And honestly as badass as they are, Seventh Ward’s dialogue doesn’t make me nervous. It doesn’t feel like they’re warning me of anything that I wasn’t already aware of. I feel perfectly safe and fine- well not “safe” because they are going to beat the crap out of us. I have no illusions about that. We’re going to feel pain we haven’t in quite some time. But, Emmanuelle trained us for this. She prepared us for what we have to do once we climb through those ropes. We’ve had the support of The Queens of Wrestling as well. Sena and I will finish what they started, no matter what.

I don’t need Darkane to believe the words coming out of my mouth, nor understand my feelings. He and Laz are too caught up in their own thoughts of carnage and destruction to actually empathize with anyone. They’re too caught up in their own story to relate to the struggle and day to day growth that Sena and I have been doing, which is hilarious considering that we all started from somewhere. We all were eager bright-eyed beginners trying to hone our craft. And at some point you have to get off the big wheel and just riding the fucking bike. Sena and I are riding our bikes on this one. We’re confident enough that we’re taking those belts home, that’s all there is to it. FTM exposed their weakness by not being aware of their surroundings. They allowed themselves to get blindsided by the enemy and are now about to pay the right price for it. They’re on the ropes- I can feel it like The Glow in the Last Dragon. And when the Dojo Bros. win the belt, we’ll be the Masters of the OWA Tag Team Division.

That’s right, Laz. Despite what you may think, we’re not the weakest link. You want to save us for last like freaking dessert at a five-star restaurant. Fine, especially since we’re not as cheap as we look. The sweet tooth you’re going to get from trying to bite into us will be your biggest regret. Hell, you might even lose a damn tooth. Sen and I don’t mind taking a backseat if you want to make our lives easier. Hell, we’ll even help you put FTM out of commission and just make this a 2-on-2 affair. We’ll perfectly okay with you guys doing the heavy lifting, as this fight isn’t about whose more badass, but who is craftier. Go on ‘head, rely on pain, violence, rage, and all of that fun stuff. When the deed is done, we’ll strike from the shadows and claim the belts for the Dojo Bros. The four of you focused on the wrong things in these exchange of words we’ve had. You relied on your tropes and your coping mechanisms. You’ve shown so much without really knowing who the hell Sena and I really are. You downplayed us at every turn and now you’re all going to regret it.

The two of you think messing with us is a game. You think you got us figured out as competitors and as men. It’s alright- that’s what upsets are for. You’ve played your hand and now it’s time to turn our cards up. Look and weep:

OWA Promos - Page 6 800px_COLOURBOX30530214

OWA Promos - Page 6 800px_COLOURBOX30530214

The OWA Tag Team Championships already have a home. They’re just in the wrong hands.

Diantha Rosso, #BeLikeBea and DT The Ruler have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos April 27th 2023, 11:50 pm by **kennydrake**

BERGEN, NORWAY
THE BYFJORDEN
4:23 AM on SUNDAY

The icy waters lay still. The sun peeks out over the mountains nearby, casting a bright orange hue over the fjord, almost as if engulfing it in the fires of the sun itself. Random ripples form, giving life to otherwise dead water.

Hear Me, Odinn

All-father of the Gods

Summon the shadows of ages past

When the thread spinning Norns ruled the fates of Men

A lone row boat sits on the glass-like water, gently rocking in the breeze. A raven sits on the bow.

Hear of a King’s return to his once glorious Kingdom, to find it ruled by those most foul and unworthy

The sky goes black. A large cloud quickly covers the rising sun, and the fjord is soon covered in sheets of rain. The raven doesn’t move.

Hear of a King’s vengeance quenched at the fiery Gates of Hell

A King destined for Valhölll

Hear Me.

And Witness the King.

The stillness is broken, as a man emerges from the water like a titan. The water sprays like liquid fireworks as the man roars in silence.

He is the Wolf God… The Bad Seed…

He is Kenny Drake.

Hear Me.

PENDLETON, OREGON
REMAINS OF HEAVEN
5:30 AM on WEDNESDAY

The charred remains of the Barn. A raven sits atop the roof, gazing out into the rising sun.

Inside the barn, more burned and blackened wood. The pues of the old Wolves church sit mangled in heaps. The stage, once the place where violent sermons were delivered, sits cracked and chipped. The leather chair, in tatters.

A figure on the chair moves slightly. Light slowly creeps in through the broken roof, illuminating the man's face.

Kenny Drake slowly removes his sunglasses and looks around. A smile creeps onto his face.

I remember…every word I have delivered from this chair. Every sermon, every pep talk, every order, every declaration of war…I remember it all. It feels like so long ago…that I was sitting in this chair, just as I am now…speaking, just as I am now, to hundreds of waiting ears. They devoured every word. They took in every moment. They listened, and they learned. It was from THIS CHAIR, that I made my intentions known to the world…it was from THIS CHURCH, that I led my army into the inevitable and took my rightful place as the OWA World Champion…it was from here…that I crafted my legacy.

Now…years later…after the wars, after the fires, after the heartbreaks and the bad times…I find myself back in this chair.

And the man I became, in all those years away?

I can feel him…slipping away.

I feel the familiar sting in my knuckles, yearning for blood…I feel the pulsing of my scars, yearning to earn more brothers…I feel…

Powerful.

Kenny slowly stands and removes his jacket, revealing his flak vest. He slowly steps off the stage and walks forward.

The Wolf God…the Saint of Killers…I was called many names, and I earned each and every one…not through clever words, or because it sounds cool…but because I truly AM what I SAY I AM. I AM the man that killers everywhere pray to. I AM the GOD of Wolves, and the One TRUE Father of Omega. I have never fallen back on hyperbole or lies…I never had to. Everything I’ve ever claimed, I’ve backed up in the ring. I have had a career to aspire to…and I am proud of what I have done. For a while, I was content. I was happy to sit behind my desk and call the shots from my new throne, overseeing MY Kingdom in a new way.

But right now…there are, once again, enemies at the gates…they have broken through, and they have flooded MY Kingdom with unnecessary war and ego-driven madness. Stark…Aria Jaxon…Michael Bishop…Jeff X. They bring their vanity, and their pride, and their egos, and they all lay claim to MY throne. None deserve to sit…none deserve to hold the title of King or Queen, because they are not driven by making this place BETTER. They only think of themselves, no matter what they claim, no matter what they spew.

I mean…how many wars, now…How many wars have there been? One a year? Everything I’ve worked for as General Manager, gets thrown to hell because once again, a GREAT WAR is brewing, that was caused by nothing more than bruised egos of frail people. Sure, the war is over THIS year…the merchandise has been sold, the deaths have come and resurrections have occurred, but tune in next year for an even GREATER War! The GREATEST War!

And who is at the… Frontline of every single one of them? Who will be there at the start of the next…and the next…and the next?

Jeff X.

It’s almost like you enjoy it, Jeff. It’s almost like you enjoy the madness, and the blood, and the death, and the backwards deals and the altered realities…because every single fucking time you get involved with someone you deem a “big threat,” the situation escalates to all-out war. Every single GOD DAMN TIME YOU feel the need to be the Last Action Hero and stand up to injustice, people fucking die. Yourself! How many times? Twice? Bishop…how many times? Twice, too? I think even Stark has died a few times, but we’ll get to him later…Hey…maybe during the next war, you can find your next tag team partner and girlfriend…it seems like your Tinder now.

It’s because of you…and your NEED to be the hero…that death has become commonplace in OWA. Your actions have brought this on all of us, and now…we’re expected to cheer for YOU to become champion, and bring that sacred piece of gold into the next battle? What happens if, in one of your backwards deals with a demon, you put that title on the line, along with the lives of your friends that trust you? What happens, Jeff…if after you become champion…and war is brought to our walls by your hands, AGAIN…and Abholos…or Havoc…or some NEW entity gets their hands on that title? The risk of letting something with such…weight…fall into evil’s hands? To allow something like those demons to gain POWER in our little corner of the world?

That would mean all the death…all the blood that stains your hands…would be for nothing. MY DEATH…would have been for NOTHING. The YEAR that I lost from my wife, and my son! ALL FOR NOTHING.

You are a dangerous man, Jeff…and not because of your abilities, but because of your recklessness…and your irresponsibility…you’re not the hero you think you are…no matter how many awards you have that say otherwise. You are not a shining light in the darkness. You are simply a Zippo, fighting against the wind…and you becoming the champion again, is just dooming us to more and more death. You’re a magnet for it, and you fucking welcome it. That’s why I can’t let you hold this throne…I cannot let you lead this Kingdom…you will lead it to ruin, and everything we have built…everything we have worked for…will be nothing but ash at the end of your cigarette…

And I cannot let that happen.

Kenny cracks his neck and steps forward again…he grasps at the collar of his vest and smirks.

The man that currently holds claim to MY throne…I don’t really know what to say about him. I like him. I have no problem with him…but…come on. The King of Simp Style, the man responsible for the rise and fall and rise and fall and rise and fall and rise and fall and rise and fall and rise and fall and rise and fall and rise of SSW…Stark…as OWA World Champion.

Kenny scoffs and shakes his head.

Heavens.

See, I like you, Stark…I like you because you don’t change. You stay true to who you are, no matter how slimy and irritating it is. Gotta respect it. You’re still talking like a seventh grader, still spewing your oh-so-edgy “retard” insults…I mean, hell…you’re still even playing grab ass with Fiora! It’s fantastic to see. I mean, you WOULD know who the king of season two was, considering you’re still living in it like it’s Groundhog’s Day.

All that you are, Stark? Is another typical New Yorker. Someone whose mouth is constantly moving, constantly starting shit, and constantly trying to prove that you’re a badass. But when someone that can truly fight you stands up? You backpedal, talking shit the whooooole time. A coward in a Yankees hat, dressed like a middle schooler and talking like one to complete the package. Pure side character energy. Just like everyone else from big, bad “New Yawk” not named Jay Z or Biggie...Yeah, you’re a big man, holding that belt…but let’s be honest here, your entire “reign” has been one failed SSW segment after another, and your little…bullshit? At OWA 100? The one that you like to rub in my face that YOU main evented and not me? Was just ANOTHER stupid I Simp match…again.

THAT title…in YOUR possession…is as meaningless as the pieces of tin you pass around in SSW…it’s nothing more than a wasted piece of leather and gold that SHOULD be used for more important things. You headlined our BIGGEST show we’ve had… in probably the stupidest fucking match I’ve ever seen…and you’re PROUD of the circus that you’ve brought here. You puff out your chest, with your bike glove tough guy bullshit, and you talk about how “none of these four speds can beat me”...like we’re on 4chan. But face reality, tough guy…You’re only the champion…because you beat a broken down and mentally decrepit Jason Long in a match that you had NO right to be in in the first place. You didn’t earn your place…you bitched and whined and poked and prodded until you were just…thrown in to shut you up…you made the most of that moment, yes…and good on you…but that’s about it for your title reign, isn’t it? Bullshit after bullshit after bullshit. Shit, I actually FORGOT for a while that you were champ, and I'M the General Manager! That’s on YOU, kiddo. You’re such a waste of a champion, people literally forget there’s a title here, and to be honest? You’re only the CHAMPION…because Jeff and Chris and Mike were busy with a fucking war…and you’re such a trash champ, Stark? Aria and I had to come out of retirement to try and save this place from you and your Simp Style Wrestling crap.

Now don’t worry, buddy…after you lose that title, you can head on back to SSW…kill it…bring it back again, and start over fresh. With your tail tucked firmly against your taint, you can scurry on off to your playground and let THIS Kingdom thrive once again.

Cos ANOTHER Stark main event?

THAT’S retarded.

Kenny smiles and looks around the church.

A conversation about ego…without bringing up Aria Jaxon…is like talking about breathing and not bringing up the lungs. You can’t have one without the other.

The Queen of Wrestling, the Spotlight Seeker…the woman that simply NEEDS to be the center of attention, no matter what.

Hi, Aria…nice hair.

What brought you back, old friend? Did someone mention you on Twitter again? Did you see that there were new kids to hold back while you take your fun little romp at the top again? Or were you just bored at home…and scared that you were gonna get fat and forgotten?

See, I don’t want you to get my words twisted, Aria. I love you. Like family. You are the closest thing to a Drake there can be without actual blood ties. You are welcomed at our home always and forever, and I cherish you as a sister.

But as a champion? As someone leading THIS Kingdom?

You’re the worst possible choice.

I can’t think of a single thing you’ve done here that HELPED someone else. I’m not saying you have to run a fuckin’ charity, but since DAY ONE, you have been looking out for yourself and your ego and your shine. Bottom line, period. When we NEEDED you, you chose SSW…when Stephanie NEEDED you, you let her down…whenever somebody else NEEDED YOU…to show a little CLASS and actually BACK SOMEONE that didn’t directly benefit you? You failed to show. How can we trust YOU, of all people, to not just win that title and retire with it? On some “nobody can beat me anyway” bullshit…don’t act like you wouldn’t do that, we all know you. We all know, you’re doing this to stave off boredom, and be able to cash another check to buy something extravagant probably, and to be able to show your kid in a few years, “see? Mommy was thin.”

But if you hold that championship…this becomes the Aria Jaxon Hour…and we went through that before…so long to the up and comers, so long to the new and exciting matches, so long to the hard work people like ME put in to Kingdom to make it worth tuning in to…it becomes all about you. You hold THAT much power, that the show will just become you. The title will become stagnant…you’ll get bored…and you’ll move on again.

And once again, people like me will have to pick up the pieces.

I beat you once. When everybody thought you were unbeatable.

Believe me, Soccer Mom. I can do it again.

Kenny cracks his neck…he suddenly looks up.

Seriously, though. I like your hair.

Kenny looks down and rests his hands in the armholes of the flak jacket. He stares off for a moment before slowly opening his mouth to speak.

…speaking of…friends…

Michael Bishop.

Kenny looks up, straight into the camera. The sunlight peeking through the ceiling illuminates the right side of his face only.

I…don’t know what to say…Michael Bishop. Out of everyone here…including myself…I want YOU to win this.

Because you are the only one, besides me, that actually wants what’s BEST for this Kingdom.

You don’t want the glory…I know you. I know that deep down, this isn’t about that. If you win this championship back, you are able to be the watchdog. A War King delivering peace to his Kingdom. Should something come up, you won’t hesitate…you won’t…compromise. You won’t make this about you, you won’t put the title in jeopardy, you won’t make it look silly…you will simply be a fighting champion, looking to defend what he has against all comers. You will be a man who actually BELIEVES in keeping this place safe. You and I agree, this Kingdom is sacred. THAT TITLE…is SACRED. The BLOOD…the sweat…the tears that have been shed for that championship…you and I? We understand.

But you’re getting old…aren’t you? I see it, Mike. I see you, taking these hits, fighting with all of your heart, fighting tooth-and-nail in everything you do…it’s taken its toll on you. Your body is betraying you. You can blame me all you want for your knee, but the rest of you? Thats years and years and years of being The Dreadknight of Chicago…the Hero of Tokyo…the Champion of Seoul…how much do you, realistically, have left in you? You have the heart of a Berserker…you will not stop for any man, demon, or God…but pretty soon, Bishop…your other leg is going to give out…the pain is your back will become too much, even for you…you won’t be able to move your neck…you won’t be able to lift your arms…and pretty soon, Bishop?

You won’t be able to hold Lita.

I know you, Mike…if you win this championship, as you well should, you will DESTROY what’s left of your body to defend it. You will put your life on the line EVERY SINGLE TIME you take a step in that ring, AND outside of it…you will fight, as you always do, until you are physically unable to do so…and then you know what will happen, Mike?

That is where you will stay.

Unable to move…unable to function…unable to defend your championship…unable to defend your Kingdom.

For the first time in your life, Mike? You won’t be able to fight.

And honestly…I don’t know how you’re going to cope with that…

For your sake, Michael Bishop…you CANNOT win the OWA Championship…when I put you down - and believe me…I will fucking put you down - for the sake of your family…for the sake of your wife…for your daughter…for your future.

Stay down.

Kenny strides to the doors of the barn, and places his hands upon them. He begins to push them open…the sounds of singing ring through the crack of the door…Kenny turns slightly, and smiles…

Strike, brothers…strike, sister…Strike.

But know that bearing a stolen ring makes no vermin a king.

Soaked…in MY blood.

It will soon be sliding off your waist…like a serpent.

Your kingdoms…will not last.

Let this misdeed haunt your living nights…KNOWING you have awoken a sleeping beast, and now must fend off its fangs, until a flaming vengeance gorges on your deaths.

Strike.

But always remember…no matter what happens…whether you like it or not…

Kenny shoves the doors open, revealing the bright morning sun…

And hundreds of men in women, clad in dark red robes, dancing and singing among the rebuilt Heaven’s Den…

Kenny turns to the camera…his red left eye leaks blood as he smiles…and clasps his hands together in prayer.

Wolves.

Aeternum.

Diantha Rosso, The Banshee, Darkane, #BeLikeBea, DT The Ruler and Felix Hartley have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos April 27th 2023, 11:29 pm by Rafael Barrera

He had not slept much in the past few days. There was so much work that needed to be done in such a short amount of time, but thus is the burden of a man the status of Rafael Barrera. Especially as he prepares to once again return to a full time schedule in the wrestling ring. Raf snickers a bit as he thinks this, as he’ll always be the first to admit his weakness when it comes to the siren song of the wrestling business.

It was there when the eerie chill that had set in his office hit the back of his neck. Rafael looked up from his laptop and looked at his office. Looking back at him were the deep red walls with black filigree and his wrestling memorabilia from his many years both as a fan, and as a competitor. Taking a deep sigh, Rafael would let out a sigh, closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose as he considered taking a nap.

“Hey dad, you’re still awake?”

Asked a voice as the door to the office opened up. It belonged to his daughter, Amelia “Lupe” Barrera. She had returned from the UK this week to spend a bit of time with him before he properly got back on the road for OWA, and she started the summer term in University. Rafael looked at her and softly smiled before speaking again.

“Unfortunately…” He said with a chuckle. “I’ve got quite a bit to finish before I can get some sleep… and no, I can’t wait til in the morning. You know how promoters are with their deadlines.”

Lupe frowns a bit, but Raf shakes his head and continues.

“But I’ll gladly take a break for you, to hell with them!” He laughs as Lupe enters the room and hopping on the corner of the desk.

“Whattaya workin’ on anyway dad?” She asks, eying the skull shaped bottle of tequila next to her.

“Well for one, I’m making sure you’ll have money when you head back to England for school…” He says, grabbing the bottle and pulling it away from the 18 year old. “But I’ve been settling some of my contracts with the Omega Wrestling Alliance. I will be making my debut for them soon, and I’m just making sure that I’ve got everything set up.”

He says as Lupe grabs the laptop. The elder Barrera reaches for it, but as soon as he does, Lupe hops off the desk and sits at the small chair in front of it and looks at the laptop. As she sees the paused video on the screen showing Rafael’s opponent for his debut match, Rich Gatsby, Lupe snaps back to glare at her dad.

“Dad… you’re not facing him are you?”

“Please Lupe, you ne–”

“I don’t need to do shit dad! You and Rich promised… not just me but the fucking world that you two were done.” She protested. “Every time that you two wrestle, you almost kill each other!”

“Amelia Guadalupe Barrera… don’t you ever use that language with me again, Sabes mejor.” Barrera scolds his daughter. “I want you to understand, I am aware of the promise that I made to you. I know how much you care for the two of us… you watched as I went to war with Rich Gatsby. You watched as I buried him alive, and you watched as I nearly died in the ring by his hands. You, more than anyone in this world, knows what we bring out of each other… I understand, I do.” Rafael pauses and glances over at the framed photograph of Rafael and a beautiful red-haired woman together on his desk. “But you need to understand that the circumstances behind this are different.”

“That… that doesn't make any sense… Why is it different?” Lupe asks, very much aware how ridiculous that sounds. Like she had said, the last time Raf and Gatsby faced one another, it was very much a personal matter. In her eyes, this was just a match, albeit on an anniversary show… but a normal match nonetheless.

Rafael doesn’t respond to his daughter, instead he simply continues to stare at the photograph.

“Lupe, My Little Wolf… you have grown so much.” He says softly. “She would be so proud of the strong, confident and defiant woman you’ve become. But I forget how young and naive you still truly are.” He says with a sigh. “Tell me, what is something that I’ve taught you ab…”

“Do not let yourself make promises you can’t keep.” Rafael wanted to smile, he was proud of that interjection, but he simply continued, looking back up at his daughter.

“...about my business… not just what I taught you about wrestling, but what I do beyond even that?”

“Never let your conviction wane, even if it means doing the unthinkable.” She says, almost in a defeated, pavlovian fashion. She stands up and sets the laptop back on the desk. “Don’t tell me why… I don’t care. Just… please get some sleep Dad, okay?”

Rafael stands up and places his hand on Lupe’s head.

“I promise… and don’t worry… both me and Rich feel the same way you do.”

Lupe smiles a half-sincere smile at her father, before exiting. Upon seeing the door shut behind her, Rafael moves over to the stand where he holds the many championships that he has won over the course of his career, and looks at the ALPHA World Heavyweight Championship, the championship he stole from Rich Gatsby… the championship that changed everything between them. He then turns his head and he looks over at the adjacent wall, where framed and hanging upon the wall was a pair of his white tights now stained a deep reddish brown by the dried blood of Rich Gatsby, as well as his own: a morbid keepsake of the night that Rafael had almost received his one true desire. Closing his eyes, Rafael would begin to speak.

"So..."

Rafael says trailing off a bit with a soft chuckle.

"It looks like we will meet again, Acere."

Rafael lets out a soft chuckle as he looks at the bloodstained tights.

"No matter how much I may wish that I could keep the promise that you and I both made to my daughter, we both are well aware that that was going to be impossible. I had purposefully weaved the threads of fate to ensure that you and I are destined to always inevitably stand across the battlefield from one another." He pauses again. "I am not going to lie though, after you and I met at my wife's mausoleum... I had sought to prevent it... but Fate truly is a cruel and fickle maiden, and she always gets what she wants. Yes, I know… even I can be a fool sometimes. But such is life, eh?”

Rafael chuckles a bit as he steps away from the tights, and he moves back over to the shelving where he has the ALPHA World Heavyweight Championship rests alongside his many other championships. He looks at it longingly for a moment, reminded of the year he and Rich Gatsby spent at each other’s throats.

“I’ll be honest though, I had not expected our fated reunion to be here in the Omega Wrestling Alliance. When I first decided to come to OWA, I had done so with the intention of confronting those fools who had cheated Death’s will and denied her loving embrace… but as I was about to put ink to paper, I received an offer to join Olympus, an offer that I…”

Barrera pauses again, lowers his head and closes his eyes. After a second, he grins and continues.

“Had I known that upon agreeing to the offer to join Olympus that I would be thrust into a match against someone who I not just respect as a professional wrestler, but also as a man, the decision would have been much more difficult… but in the end, Acere… no matter how difficult the decision was, it was one that I needed to take. Not just for the benefit of my career, but for yours Rich.”

Rafael pauses for a moment and lets out a soft sigh. He touches the faceplate of the championship that he and Rich both shared and holds his hand there for a moment before shaking his head. The stakes going into this match were different. Barrera shakes his head and turns away from his accolades.

"Do you forget who I am? Do you think I haven't had my eyes on OWA and what you have been doing, Acere? I've watched as you did what you do best; bring the ruckus, as you say, and climb from the bottom of a company to the very top, whoever is in your way be damned! As I would expect from the man who nearly ended not just my career but my life in the ring, ha ha ha!" Rafael let's out a proud laugh, one that would come from a father rather than a blood rival. However his proud demeanor quickly fades. "I had proclaimed you as this… paragon of our business. You were a beacon for what I believed was the good that this business could offer… but you decided to make a play out of my book and take the Immortal Heavyweight Championship from Elijah." He shakes his head. "And what did that get you Rich? You decided to play a role you were not ready to fill and all you had gotten to show for it was to have eyes on you for two weeks before you let Elijah take his title back from you. Then, you made a fool out of yourself in the Thunderbastard when you got eliminated by a comemierda who has made a goddamned joke out of lucha libre every single time that his waste of leather and fabric that he calls a mask appears inside of an arena… but more importantly, by allowing that to happen to you Rich you made me and my legacy a fucking joke…" Barrera shakes his head as a disgusted sneer crosses his face. "From the moment that you became champion and the fall from grace that has followed since, you have forgotten who you are, you have abandoned what made you the man who I consider my greatest foe… and you have made a complete fool out of me for believing in you. And no matter how much respect that I may have for the man you are supposed to be, no matter how much my daughter looks up to you as the man who trained her… I cannot allow that indignity to remain unpunished, Rich."

"So… at OWA's fifth anniversary, I will step into their ring for the very first time and I will beat a lesson into you Rich that I had never expected to give you. But, you have brought this upon yourself. If I am going to achieve what I desire to achieve within Olympus and all of OWA, then I cannot allow you to walk amongst its halls as this shell of the man I knew…" Rafael sighs slightly. "Rich Gatsby, when you and I step into the battlefield once again, I will force you to remember who you are, and I will force you to remember who I am. Only this time, the outcome will be different. I will strike fear into this company when I eradicate your very existence from it… I will take back the mantle I gave to you, and your head my friend, will serve as an example as to what I intend to do. Mi legado permanecerá intacto y mi ascensión será inevitable."

#BeLikeBea, Felix Hartley and Tyler Kulina have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos April 27th 2023, 11:18 pm by **Elijah Hampton**

“With this Immortal Heavyweight Championship STILL in my possession — and as it should be, my head remains on a swivel at all times with my eyes locked in and peeled since so many around here try to go out of their way to fuck on me. But I get it. They want what I have. Licking their chops, only for them to be licking their wounds shortly thereafter. From the woodwork, they crawl out of and I know they are willing to pull whatever stunt they must to get this prize. Not me, but this title. Thought I had to clarify because both can be true. But honestly, I have no problem with their tomfoolery as I place my hands on my hips — the same hips that I have my cardigan sweater tied around, shake my head and let out a grin before looking into the camera because it comes with the territory of being the whole champ thing. The potential challengers just go about it in different ways. Some lurk in the shadows as they plot on the low. Some are more in your face and act on impulse. And I so wish I could put all of my time, energy, and focus on these talented individuals. But I can’t. I’m a professional wrestler through and through. And I should only have to ‘worry’ about dealing with my fellow professional wrestlers. But the suits have other plans. Much like the NFL draft, the GM and team scouts may clash on who they think the better prospect is when it comes to matching their vision moving forward. Some are enamored by the potential of an Anthony Richardson and the physical tools he possesses while you have a more sure thing in a Bryce Young who has the accolades to back it up. Just like I’m aware that I’m not everyone’s cup of tea when it comes to certain authority figures around here. They want this title in the hands of someone they view as more reliable and has ‘bigger star power’ in the likes of Darkane. Or some want to hit the reset button completely and start fresh with the likes of Lazarus or ‘Don’ Hendrix. Orrrrrrr better yet, they want their cake and eat it too, like RIP. With the flavor of cake being urinal. But the man is on one major power trip while he’s straight up trippin. Trying to soak up every last drop of control and make the Olympus brand into his own personal playground. Hopefully, it comes with a sandbox since you’ll be pounding plenty of that soon enough. But look, it’s draining. Because no matter what I try to do, no matter what I go on to accomplish, there always seems to be a general manager or an owner praying for my downfall as they try to gather the needed resources to put a permanent end to the wave of momentum I’ve been gliding on for the better part of a year. I would say I’m the Silver Surfer but I only know how to wear gold, so nah. This is Project Smile all over again. This is what’s his face all over again too? I think he was a part of BOB or some shit. He stood there months ago and gave Lazarus a nod of approval when he rocked my shit with the lead pipe backstage to end the show. But what I don’t get is how these bottom-of-the-barrel schmucks keep weaseling their way into calling the shots in the first place? Alex Carter was appointed the Olympus general manager position and the crowd went absolutely mild because most didn’t even recognize him unless you tuned in to watch the developmental shows. And here we are now, stuck with RIP. One step forward, immediately followed by two steps back. Or ten. That is unless, of course, Mark Michaels isn’t able to get the job done at OWA 5. Which would be such a shame. And I get if Mark loses he’s supposedly blacklisted from the wrestling industry, as if RIP has that kind of pull. As if every wrestling company on the planet wouldn’t jump at the chance to sign a top-tier talent in Mark Michaels the second he becomes a free agent. As if RIP has any say when it comes to Mark’s stay here in OWA if he loses his ownership anyway.”

“Usually when I go into these championship matches, I show my opponent or opponents — whether it be two or fuck it, twenty, like at Civil Wat because why not, hmm? — but as I was going to say, I show them a certain level of respect. Unless of course, they decide to hock a loogie in my face and try to besmirch my name and everything I stand for, then the gloves come off and I’m squaring up. No dap up afterward either. But the reason why I show them respect in the first place is because many of them earned their way to challenge me for this. But the same can’t be said about you, RIP. And that’s just one of the many issues that I have with you. I could go down the list and present to you every last bullet point on some PowerPoint slides but I don’t have time for that. And neither do you because I’m sure you’re a self-proclaimed busy man. So let’s just get down to the nuts and bolts. I’m not particularly fond of you for a plethora of reasons. Obviously, the most recent one, abusing your power, leapfrogging more deserving candidates such as Mark Michaels and Noah Reigner to have a crack at this. But even before all of that, the second you arrived on to the scene, I looked at you and I wasn’t impressed. I wasn’t impressed by your designer suits. I wasn’t impressed by your fade that wasn’t properly blended in. I wasn’t impressed by your snakeskin shoes that were made from your own shedded off skin. And I wasn’t impressed because I saw a carbon copy of the old me. I don’t like the old me, RIP. The old me didn’t take his job all that seriously. The old me would give just enough effort to stay afloat and survive the chopping block while many of my peers were willing to bleed, sweat, and shed a tear or two in order to keep their spot. The old me would wear the freshest of clothes and eat at the chillest of restaurants and try to live off the sliver of clout I had from just appearing on television. The old me tried to take the easy way out by joining the likes of people I agreed to have their backs but when the going got tough, I got out of dodge. Christopher Sabertooth, Maverick, Nate Cage, Nas, Jacob what’s his surname? Not Senn, but the one that was in the Ashes of the Wake? Look, doesn’t matter. I used them to help propel my career. Havoc might have been calling the shots back then, as was Nas and Nate for about the two minutes The Blacklist was unfortunately a thing and I’m not talking Raymond Reddington. But it was I, the young gun, who placed them as meat shields on the chess board. It was I who in the end came out on top. But later on, I didn’t scale my way up the mountain with those same ideologies. The old me wouldn’t be in the position I find myself in today because that guy wasn’t world champion material. I did something you have yet to do and that’s mature. I’ve learned what it means to sacrifice. What it means to succeed the right way. These championships didn’t just plop into my lap. They were earned. I don’t stand here as an undefeated man. I took my bruises, I took my lumps. There was a lot of trial and error. With many highs and lows. And I wouldn’t change a single damn thing because all of it have become chapters in my life story — in The Book of Eli. The peaks and valleys of professional wrestling is a beautiful thing. It’s the journey. It’s what keeps me going, it’s what keeps my interest piqued. Things don’t always go your way. And every once in a while, you need to check your ego at the door and be humbled. It would be an honor and a privilege to fill that role for you, RIP, as I knock you down a peg or two. Chop you down to size and send you through the wood chipper. Would be neat.”

“At Civil War, I fought against the entire Olympus locker room. At OWA 5? I fight FOR the Olympus locker room. While it seems as though you presented yourself with an opportunity of a lifetime, it is you that gifted me the chance to put an end to your regime before it truly gets off the ground. Because as long as you have a say in what happens on Olympus, your number one priority will always be yourself. Up to your usual bullshit. Yeah, we can't be having that. I would say that makes this a bit personal to me, but every time I have this title on the line, it's personal. You're trying to waltz your way in and take something I worked way too hard to obtain. All the trials and tribulations I had to face. All the friends who turned on me because of this, all the opponents I had to go toe-to-toe with, which is just about everyone -- you really think I am just going to let all of that go down the drain and have you take this from me after you sat on the sidelines for the past couple of months, or for however long you were gone, trying to leverage your way into a more favorable situation and a fatter contract? You got me fucked up. Therefore, at OWA 5, I'm not looking to be my usual boy scout self. I am looking to do damage. While I have unquestionably left my mark in the world of wrestling, I am now looking to leave a mark on your face. I am looking to leave a mark on your win-loss record. Because I know how this plays out if I win -- for you strike me as the sore loser type. You won't give me my props, you won't give me a golf clap and you won't admit that I got the better of you and tell the world that I really am him. No, you will double down. You will try to make my life even more hell. You will try to make The Thunderbastard look like child's play compared to what you plan on putting my body and mind through. So at OWA 5, I will strike first and I will strike often. I will do something that millions, if not billions of people in this world often salivate and daydream about and that's slapping up their boss, as they live vicariously through me. You have nobody to blame but yourself. You put yourself in this position. This is your own doing and I won't be held responsible for my actions. With that said, I understand the method to your madness. You are doing the Hendrix strat'. You're looking to pick the remaining meat off my bones like the vulture that you are. Thinking the Olympus roster did you a solid by doing all of the heavy lifting for you and you will just be able to swoop in and finish the job. You can believe what you wanna believe to help soften the blow of the inevitable, but we have seen how this movie ends time and time again. And spoiler alert, this doesn't end well for you, for I will not bend my knee to you, but I will bend your brim."

Diantha Rosso, The Banshee, Darkane, #BeLikeBea, DT The Ruler, Felix Hartley and Tyler Kulina have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos April 27th 2023, 10:39 pm by **Diantha Rosso**

“Carlos, it’s been almost three years since you’ve stepped inside an OWA ring. You’ve had some appearances in Japan for SSW and you’ve made sporadic appearances on OWA programming, but no matches. What do you think that it will be like when the fans give you what’s expected to be a loud, very raucous reception?”

(Carlos tilts his head in thought for a moment before smiling and speaking for some damn reason in a very fake Portuguese accent.)

“I will love it….and I think I deserve.”

Disclaimer: The following is a simulation to display what life will be like for Mark Michaels once he’s been beaten by OWA Hall of Famer and WRESTLING GOD Carlos Rosso (his words, not ours). Any comments and statements made herein are not the opinions or beliefs of anyone associated with the Omega Wrestling Alliance or its sponsors. Seriously, Carlos is a fucking lunatic and we had to put this disclaimer in because we can’t control him. We had to find his manager Mao to shuffle him around and keep him from getting arrested so he could make it to New York for this match. If he makes fun of you, people like you, your ethnicity or anything else, it’s just jokes. Please don’t piss him off so we have to find where he is and bail him out of jail….again.

OWA Management.

Our video begins with Carlos Rosso riding in his car, blasting….”Twilight Dream”, of all things, as loud as humanly possible. His longtime friend and manager, Mao, can only stare at him in disgust as he sings along to the music in appalling bad Japanese.

“CMON! THIS IS A BOP!”

“A what?”

“A BOP! A BANGER! A FUCKING SMASH HIT! How is this chick not famous all over the world!?”

“ -sigh- Carlos, why are we in Louisiana? We have all sorts of press engagements to keep in New York.”

“I know, I know, but we’re riding towards a place here in Louisiana called the Unemployment Office, officially we call it the Louisiana Workforce Commission. They help people who have come on hard times find some work. Mr. Michaels is coming up on hard times, isn’t he? He’s about to wrestle me with the future of Olympus and his career in the balance. If I WIN, Nate Cage will wield so much power! You know what that means, Mao-Chan?”

“What?”

“It means I will have a job for LIFE on Olympus if I want it. Commentary, backstage reporter, random official that you see in the background breaking up fights! That would be the easiest fucking paycheck ever.”

“What about wrestling? Don’t you still want to wrestle?”

“.....Maybe? I don’t know. I’m officially retired but I’m unretired now so I can do whatever I want! I could just turn up and win the World Title, not show up for work for weeks at a time. I could hire an obnoxious manager and become a….uh….Hereditary Leader….a Local Ruler……A Tribal Chief, if you will.”

“That gimmick is taken.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah.”

“Smart bastard! How did they come up with that before me!?”

STEP 1: First Meeting and Going over the Resume

Carlos has entered the building finally, paperwork in hand and smartly dressed in business attire for the meeting. He meets a middle aged woman who shakes his hand as he approaches her work cubicle.

“Welcome, Mr….Rosso? We’ve been expecting you for an appointment, my name is Annabelle and it’s a pleasure to meet you. Do you have a copy of your resume for us to go over?”

“Yes I do, here you go ma’am.”

“Okay let’s have a look at this. Please, sit down right there. Wow….fourteen time professional wrestling world champion! We’re off to a pretty good start. You’re a trainer as well? Do you have any other skills that you think could be useful?”

“Uh……I’m experienced with the pharmacy?”

“Ah, as a technician?”

“Well….not necessarily.”

“Oh, don’t worry. We can help you get in touch with people to go get certification for that. Can you tell me about the time you were ‘The King of Television’?”

“Well, I really went on TV for weeks, spent about 20 minutes telling people that I was better than them, and then wound up actually being better than them! You see the camera crew, right? We’re here shooting a special film to show to Mark Michaels….do you know who that is?”

“Um….I’m sorry, I’m afraid I don’t.”

“Heh. Nobody watches Olympus, at least right now. Don’t feel sad. I didn’t even know who the guy was until I was selected to fight him for the fate of that wrestling show. And what’s worse, the poor guy had to put his career on the line too! Not only am I going to have a benefactor in power, this guy is going to be forced out of wrestling. That’s why we’re here today, just to give him a visual demonstration of what his life will be like going forward!”

“I don’t understand….”

“Bitch are you deaf!? HE'S GONNA BE OUT OF A JOB! UNEMPLOYED! A BUM! A SCRUB! SANS EMPLOYMENT! HE WILL BE LACKING THE MEANS TO PROVIDE FOR HIS FAMILY THE SAME WAY HE LACKS TESTICLES TO PRODUCE CHILDREN OF SAID FAMILY……wait….does that mean all of his kids are adopted? Maybe he's into that cuckold shit that’s all the rage with weirdos.”

“Um….this is a very inappropriate conversation.”

“You’re right, I apologize. Please don’t kick us out. I need to take a typing test, right?”

“If you want to try for one of our telemarketing positions available, I suppose you can.”

Step 2: The Typing Test

Some time has passed and Carlos is inside the facility’s computer literacy testing center. Even though he barely had use for a computer, the test was so basic he passed with flying colors. Next came a typing test to measure words per minute. Once the test was over and Annabelle returned, she was beaming.

“Oh my God, Mr. Rosso! You have the fastest words per minute we’ve ever recorded! 200 words per minute! That’s incredible!”

“Thank you. I, uh, used my own passage to type from instead of the provided text. Do you mind reading it to the camera for us, I have a piece of it on paper!”

Annabelle picked up the paper and studied it, her brow furrowing instantly.

“This is highly inappropriate and something that should NOT be said in a public place!”

“Oh come on, I’ll give you a thousand dollars just for reading it. It’s not that bad, really.”

Exasperated, the woman put her hands on her hips.

“Really, THIS garbage is not bad?”

Mark Michaels is a bitch. I tried to give him time to say something interesting and charismatic, but it seems that Darkane and others have knocked the creativity out of him on Olympus. He is a punk ass rookie compared to me and I’m gonna treat him like they treat bitches on the 90s Television Show Oz.

“Wait, did you threaten to-”

“Keep reading!”

Remington Ivory Prescott is an even bigger bitch though. He wanted to avoid me and gave himself a world title match, using a half-assed proxy to fight in his stead. I’m going to break Mark’s jaw in front of him, then chase RIP around until he’s RIP- not his name, but Resting In Peace. But back to Mark Michaels. Why is he so quiet? Why is he not saying anything to Carlos Rosso? Is he scared to say something mean because he knows that I will murder him? I would be too, but at least have some dignity to be entertaining before you die.

“Look this is clearly a threat to do bodily harm, I literally have to stop and report this to the police…”

“KEEP GOING!”

After I’ve beaten Mark Michaels, I’m going to eat BBQ with Nate Cage and plan the future of Olympus. I hope that I can get my hands on RIP too. I really hate that scarf-wearing motherfucker. He is a horrible judge of talent if he thinks that Mark stands any chance against me, even if he’s desperate. I don’t understand why that walking steroid factory Scott Oasis sold him Olympus. Is that even legal? Did the shareholders know about this? Is OWA publicly traded? Either way, he’s probably got people ready to beat his ass for selling to that idiot. Maybe it was Nas’s fault. We’ll never know.

“You better have my one thousand dollars…..this is….horrible.”

“I mean, I've DONE worse. This is just me talking.”

Once my dinner with Nate Cage is over, I’m going to just chill. I will watch DT and Raivo lose the tag titles. Preferably to my student and his partner, but the hobo squad would be just as good. I will watch Diantha lose because she wishes she had swagger like ya boy! After the show is over, I will punch Moongoose and Maggall in the face, and then hang out with the Odyssey girls. I will make the sex with as many of them as possible.

“Come on. ‘Make the sex’? What the hell are you, some vacationing European sugar daddy!?”

“Just read the last bit of the text, please?”

I just want people to know that I have no problem with Romani people. I don’t see color and believe that we should all be treated equally in the eyes of God and in the eyes of the law. I’m truly an equal opportunity distributor of these hands, and anyone can get them. I did not take all of this time away and train, eat horse meat, and not snort quality cocaine for nothing short of a magnificent match. I will entertain the masses and show that OWA is Ichiban. But for real though, Odyssey got all the cute women now. When I was wrestling regularly some of those girls looked rough but they’re all fit and thick now! Ruri is thicker than a Snickers that was frozen, Thotyssey is there and Alyssa Grace grew an ass. Their GM doesn’t do shit anyway, maybe I can take that job….

“Sir, this is an absolute disgrace. It’s repugnant, offensive and horrifying that you have these thoughts in your head. You’re a deranged lunatic and you shouldn’t be anywhere near women or any decent human being.”

Shrugging his shoulders, Calros pulls out some money and lays it down on the table, getting up and heading out.

“Meh. I’m a dirtbag. But there’s a lot worse than me. Did you know that people literally tried to summon a demon to do their dirty work for them to take over the world? Oh, and Prescott wears scarves in the summer. Fucking fraud.”

Mark, this demonstration unfortunately didn’t go as intended. There were obviously some bumps in the road and maybe I got a little too worked up thinking about the post-match fun I was going to have, but I can guarantee that you’re not going to have fun. You’re going to lose your job, your profession, and your pride all in the space of a few minutes. These hands are going to fly, and unlike your family, they’re gonna find a home. Your face. Your chest. Your back. Your legs. Your neck. YOUR NECK AND YOUR BACK. I’m going to beat the shit out of you.

I’m going to take in the adoration of a sold out Madison Square Garden and for one night, people all around the world are going to see what an awesome wrestler I am. You’re going to try to fight back, you’re going to TRY to beat me, but you’re going to fail. And unlike in Giannis’s world where “there’s no failure in sports”, this will be your final failure. Your last stand is coming, and like half the characters in X Men 3: the Last Stand, you will be dispatched and absolutely nothing of consequence will be lost.

See ya.

Melanie B, The Banshee, Theodor Pavel, #BeLikeBea, DT The Ruler and Felix Hartley have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos April 27th 2023, 9:59 pm by **Lazarus Arjen**

BOOK OF RATS: CHAPTER XIV

“A World of Depravity.”

The alleyway was dimly lit.

New York City had a reputation for such shady areas.

The heavy metal door that blocked the alley and the building it fed into, swung open hard enough that it almost hit the decaying brick wall. The monster of a man named OZIAS barged through, and immediately following him was Victoria Poirier, then behind her - Lazarus Arjen.

His hood, as always, draped over his head. He stopped on the step, allowing his eyes to scan the alley on either side before his hand slipped into his pocket - retrieving a single cigarette and lighter. After putting the death stick to his lips, he lit the end and took a deep inhale.

Stepping off of the step, he turned and began to walk through the alleyway - OZIAS and Victoria slipping into formation behind him …

“I expected this from FTM.”

“I expected the usual; ‘edgelord’ this and ‘emo’ that because it’s an easy target that every uneducated and ignorant fuck that we’ve come across shoots for.”

“I expected a holier-than-thou outlook; looking down on us for a multitude of reasons. I expected ego. I expected arrogance. I expected all of the tired and overused cliches, all of the overplayed threats, and I expected all of the bullshit ‘white boy’, ‘white boy’, ‘emo ass white boy’ attacks - because that is all they have.”

“And I have to say; I have not been disappointed. We have had to sit and listen to nonsensical, mindless dribble - chalk full of insults that fail to hit their mark, and hypocrisy for miles. I expected the so-called ‘champions’ to come out swinging, to try and convince the fans, the bookers and themselves that they have more than a fleeting hope of winning this match - and this is where I have been disappointed. Donovan and Raivo have come out swinging, alright, but nothing to convince anyone of anything except that they’re in over their heads. Childish insults? Hygiene remarks? This the level that the ‘best tag team that OWA has ever seen’ stoops to, and we’re supposed to take you seriously? You can remark on our willingness to bring up death, torture, mutilation and gore - you can even turn a blind eye to the results of our carnage since the Seventh was reformed - but there’s a reason you’ve been kept here on Kingdom, shielded from the atrocities that we can, and will, commit. While our acts of horror may not ‘impress’ you, it certainly sent shockwaves far enough up the chain of command that they didn’t want Darkane and I crossing over to Kingdom.”

“Guess what? It fucking happened anyway.”

He said with venom lacing his words. All while he walked and took hits from the cigarette - blowing clouds of smoke periodically.

“We showed up and left both of you at our fucking feet. Call it a blindside all you want, but had the tables been turned and you leveled us? The world would never stop hearing about the one time that you put down Frankenstein and Igor - I mean - Darkane and Lazarus. But you have to save face, right? You were exposed to be weak, soft as baby shit - and now ‘the champions’ are in full damage control to try and preserve the image of dominance that they claim to be real. ‘The champions’ are saying anything they can think of in order to try and shrug off the Seventh Ward as if we were just another randomly built tag team, and not the team of killers bonded by the years we spent on the streets. We’re no strangers to clawing our way from the gutters, we’re no strangers to stealing a piece of the pie for ourselves. This is second nature to us; overlooked, ignored and underestimated. We’re not a team because we wanted to play the victim card on a grand stage. We’re not a team because of some bullshit oppression theory. We’re not a team to ride the coattails of one another; which is amusing that Raivo brings that up. Spinning tales to take the attention from himself while he accuses people of riding coattails, when he’s the biggest culprit of all. This circles back to you being an uneducated, ignorant piece of shit Raivo. Darkane and I, this team of ours is organic. He is my brother; while the blood that pumps through our veins may not share the same organic makeup, he’s been my family since I was a teenager. But with love, comes hatred and I loathed that man. I didn’t show up in OWA with starry eyes, hoping for Darkane to take me to the promised land. I arrived looking to kill that man, and I did. I’m perhaps the only person in this god forsaken company to beat Darkane twice. You, on the other hand, hitched a ride to the veteran - the former AWL all star - because you, being the egotistical son of a bitch that you are, saw bright lights and dollar signs. You don’t have to admit it, it’s a well known fact. Those who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones; you may end up shattering the very safe space you lock yourself in while you sit in front of a camera, spouting off all this nonsense.”

“It’s easy for you to say the talent on Olympus pales in comparison, because you haven’t left the safety of Kingdom - because you don’t have that guardian angel looking out for you - because you don’t have the protective cover that you’ve been hiding behind while on Kingdom. You’d drown on Olympus. Elijah Hampton would chew you up, and spit you out. Prescott wouldn’t even use you to wipe his ass. Michaels would throw you into a circle pit of Gypsy goons; but I’m not here to be a proud flag bearer for Olympus. Prescott can send someone else for that bullshit. I’m here to open your fucking eyes. I’m here to make sure you SEE that the most dangerous threat you have has been in front of you the entire time. You’re just too blinded by your own willful ignorance to notice, and that’s your entire problem Raivo. You’re narrow sighted. You only see what you choose to see, and that lack of situational awareness is what’ll be the undoing of the near six month reign that you’ve had. It’s a champion's job to be aware, to be ready for any and all challengers. You and Donovan sit on your throne, high above the battlefields in your Ivory Towers, and think you can pick and choose who you defend against? This isn’t Burger King, bitch. You can’t have it your way. You don’t just represent Kingdom, you represent OWA - and you’ve done a piss-poor job in doing so. You think we’ve lost a step? How do you fucking figure? Darkane and I have, together, terrorized Olympus since Hardcore Havoc - and individually, long before that. We’ve made men bigger in name value, size and stature than you and Donovan, our victims and have gone unchecked because there’s no one on Olympus that can stop the Seventh Ward. Us coming for the tag team championships was only a matter of time. What was it you said, big fishies, small pond? More like Great Whites devouring everyone that we came across. Once one area is ravaged, we move onto the next.”

“This is that time.”

His lips curled into a wicked smirk.

“How delusional are you, though? The talk of retaining your championships in a match that you have less-than-zero chances of winning aside, you sit there with a straight face and say - you can hold your own in battles and don’t need the help? I told Donovan days ago that I wasn’t going to hold this against you, but you literally just had help from Diantha to beat the Queens. How is anyone supposed to take you seriously? I’ll admit; for a while you were the talk of OWA. Someone with a bright future, someone who could’ve become one of the pillars. But, the curtains have been pulled back to reveal a sniveling little bitch who can’t deal with the fact that he’s about to lose the only thing that keeps him relevant, so he lashes out and acts asif Darkane and I aren’t the big, bad that everyone else knows us to be. No one is going to remember me, remember us? If that helps you sleep, then by all means; continue to believe it. I can guarantee you, though, people will remember my actions. People will remember the night of OWA Five, and not because it’s a stupid fucking anniversary circlejerkfest. People will remember this night because Darkane and I are going to do what depraved, deplorable individuals do - torture, maim, physically violate and fucking dismember you. Oh, I'm sorry, was that too dramatic? Too bad, I don’t give a fuck. You think that you saying you don’t respect me will have me shook? Again. I simply do not give a fuck about whether or not you respect me, that’s not why I’m here. I’m here to remove those championships from your hands, from Donovan’s hands, and to do so - I’ll cut those hands off if I need to.”

“I’ve done worse, for less.”

“Suggesting that we politicked to this position we’re in is as asinine as the thought of you being superior all because of which brand you’ve found yourselves on. We’ve fought, we’ve sliced, we’ve cut, and we’ve butchered our way to Kingdom and the trail of blood that followed us here lays on the ground in thick puddles. Bodies are stacked miles high, but yet; we don’t belong here? It sounds like Donovan and Raivo are saying anything they can to weaken the arguments that this could be their last hoorah as champions. Donovan sits posted up in his penthouse offices, far away from the public eye, where he can sit and rack that little brain of his to try and spin it so things are in his favor - missing the fact that this was never in his favor. Completely missing the fact that from the moment the Seventh Ward was reunited, there was a ticking clock on their reign. You smell desperation on us? You’re confusing desperation with dedication. Not to the art of ‘tag team wrestling’, but to the task of butchering the so-called ‘best tag team in OWA’. You want desperation, look no further than your partner - talking in circles because he’s trying to save face before he - and you - are pulled off cloud nine and brought crashing to reality. And that reality, Donovan, is a grim one. The reality is full of harsh truths that you and Raivo need to come to terms with; one of those truths being - OWA Five is the end of your reign, to be blunt. But perhaps the harshest truth is - once Darkane and I are finished with you; once we’re finished spilling your blood and carving you up like a fucking Turkey dinner - you’re going to be regulated to a sympathy act again. Blaming the white man for your troubles and crying about oppression. Outside of that, neither of you have any substance. And when all of that falls on deaf ears, which believe me - it will, you’ll both be left with nothing.”

“And while I speak of being left with nothing, it’s the same thing that the Dojo bros will be left with. Hard work, determination, hopes, dreams - they all account for shit when you’re staring at the sharp end of our blades. They all account for shit when you’re staring into the eyes of myself and Darkane, and you see our ill-intentions. Do you think we give a single fuck about any of those people who have helped you along the way? Who you can’t let down? Think of it this way, Sena, you’ll have a support system to fall back on once you and Ty fail - again. You’ll have a group of people to hold your hands, to console you, to coddle you and tell you that everything is okay. You can huff and puff, scream to the clouds that ‘you’re ready’ - but simply saying it doesn’t make it so. You and Ty are upset that Darkane and I said we were the last one’s standing at Kingdom 100? We were the last one’s standing - the ones that mattered anyway. Face it. Your idols, the Queens, are better off retired, and you two are better off playing catch up than actually realizing your dream. What happens should you win the titles? You’ll fall off. All the training, all the dedication will be over and now you have the biggest target on your back. You’ll have the companies most dangerous hunting you, and you won’t have the experience or the wherewithal to know how to deal with that. You’ll simply be sitting ducks.”

He shrugged, not an ounce of care about their well-being should the Seventh hunt them.

The group has turned a corner, entering another alley now. A clear destination ahead for Lazarus.

“Sena was quick to admit he doesn’t know anything about us, that he doesn’t understand why we’re currently teaming instead of trying to kill each other. Refer to the same speech I gave to the other fucking idiots who care not to open their eyes and pay attention to their surroundings. I HAVE killed Darkane, and boy - I will not have a second of remorse should you find yourself penetrated by my blade. You can scream to the heavens about walking out as champion until you waste every bit of air in your lungs; but it will be hard to do when your arteries are opened up and your blood is pooling around the ladder that Darkane and I have ascended to pull down the championships. And before death comes for you, before your soul slips from your body and into the ether - you’ll look up to see us above you. You’ll look around to see Ty, the lovesick puppy, being coddled by his crush and you’ll see FTM suffering the same painful fate as yourself. That is the only thing that’s going to happen, that’s a truth that's known company wide. It’s a truth that resonates within the OWA universe. You and Ty are in this match to simply better Kingdom’s odds of holding the titles hostage; but we all know that’s a futile attempt.”

“But that lack of knowledge when it comes to Olympus stands out when you say things like we’re not killers, we’re not tough guys. While we don’t go around calling ourselves as such - unlike the ego-driven FTM, we have proven exactly what we are. And, since you seemingly missed it, we did make our intentions crystal-fucking-clear before Kingdom 100. It’s not our fault that you, Ty, and FTM are too self-centered to pay attention to anyone other than yourselves, that you don’t heed the warnings that we put out there for everyone to hear. But that’s right; you don’t care about us, right? You have a little bite, I’m happy for you - but you not caring about me doesn’t bring a tear to my eye, or depress me one bit. In fact, I also don’t care about you - but I’m not so self-obsessed that I don’t check into who I’m stepping into the ring with. When your stupid little team name was announced for this match, I looked into you. I watched playback of when you failed to capitalize on your opportunities. I watched the clips of you and Tyler underperforming; and I’m supposed to believe that now is your time because you scream it to the sky? You’re right; you’re not a finished product. You’re two doe-eyed little boys with high hopes and big dreams. You have a group of cheerleaders behind you, hyping you up so much that you believe their cheers to be true.”

“That’s your mistake.”

“You believe the hype. You believe that you’re better than you truly are, and it’s going to lead you into a world of pain. But, as you said, you’re ready for that - right? You’re ready to be cut, mutilated, maimed and disfigured? Big talk, but I’m going to hold you to that. I’m going to hold both of you to those words, because that is exactly what I’m going to do to the both of you. The TLC match, as you suggested, doesn’t need pins to be victorious. All you need is your opponents to be down, or distracted. And you claim that while we’re busy butchering FTM you and Ty will escape with the belts. That’s a cute little dream. I’ll tell you what; you should hold onto that good thought, let it cradle you off to sleep on these last few nights; because after this match - you’ll either be sleeping in a hospital bed, or six feet beneath the earth.”

And that was when Lazarus, OZIAS and Victoria came to a stop.

Face to face with Darkane, who turned the corner coming off of the street. Humming and snapping his fingers to the song in his head.

“All attempts to drive a wedge between us this week - suggesting we can’t trust each other, we’ve tried to kill each other and one of us would turn - have been futile.”

“Know this; separate we’re dangerous but together we’re fucking unstoppable. You’ll find that out soon.”

“And once you do; we’re going to plunge the OWA into a world of hate, blood, and depravity - unlike anything any of you have ever seen before.”

And together, Darkane and Lazarus stare into the camera - as menacing as only they can be. The Seventh Ward were ready.

Darkane, Elijah Hampton, #BeLikeBea, Rebecca Filth, Remington Ivory Prescott, DT The Ruler and Felix Hartley have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Final Boss April 27th 2023, 9:35 pm by **Remington Ivory Prescott**

From The Desk Of Remington Ivory Prescott...

Final Boss

To the OWA Universe, the Gods of Mount Olympus and the Final Four Elijah Hampton fans, allow me to gift to you all with this official press release and letter of intent.

Everything has a time and place. There was a time for the self-proclaimed Smooth Operator. There was a time when Jacob Senn was an issue. There was a time when Olympus was actually in need of someone that had the limited skills and talents that Mr. Hampton believes are the end all and be all of making it in this business. There was a time that the things that Mr. Hampton purports as heart and passion actually mattered.

That time has passed.

The fate of Olympus hangs in the balance at OWA5. That incredibly greasy gypsy named Mark Michaels has no choice but to secure my ownership of the brand. No choice but to put me in the driver's seat so that I may finally steer this ship towards the undeniable greatness that it has the raw potential to become. After Mark Michaels stains the canvas with that Waste of Nostalgia Dios Mio, then we'll be on track to put Olympus back into the limelight where it belongs.

Unfortunately, that can't happen while you're still Immortal Heavyweight Champion.

Now, don't get me wrong. I understand that you feel that your qualifications make you the strongest candidate to carry the Immortal Heavyweight Championship over into the new regime. I understand that you believe that since Reigner helped you retain His belt at the Thunderbastard that you're some sort of next-in-line or heir apparent. I'm sure you believe that the torch has been passed from him to you and that you deserve to be the one to carry on and cement your legacy as one of the greatest champions that OWA has ever witnessed. And to be frank, I think you should believe those things. Everyone in this world deserves to dream.

It makes it so much more fun when I turn those dreams into nightmares.

Contrary to what you might believe, Mr. Hampton, this isn't about you. I couldn't find the energy to pretend to care less about you than I do right now. You're nothing more than an annoyance that's standing in the way of me ushering in a new lease on life for Olympus. You're the hole in my Burberry socks. You're the blonde with 32As instead of 38DDs. You're the first rung on my ladder to success and once I step over you at OWA5, there will be nowhere to go but up. That's your level of importance to this entire operation. You're just... in the way.

No, OWA5 is about so much more than Elijah Hampton defending his "allegedly deserved" championship against the "evil and vile" Remington Ivory Prescott. To hear you tell it, you're some kind of unsung hero that the people deserve. But that's not what Olympus needs right now. Olympus needs someone that will do whatever it takes to win. Olympus needs someone that will get his hands dirty and fight for the glory of the brand. Olympus needs villains right now. Olympus is fighting for its life right now and we don't need boy scouts or gypsies or tanned goblins like you to lead us to victory. This is not the time for motivational speeches or heroic acts of overcoming the odds.

This is war. There are no heroes.

People always seem to have a lot to say about me. That I'm a coward, that I don't belong here, that I get by on my wealth and resources. Some people believe that without all of my hired help, I wouldn't be the man I am today. That I wouldn't amount to anything in OWA. And I used to think that was jealousy speaking. I used to believe that people just couldn't understand my life because they came from a place of peasantry. That they existed in a perpetual state of struggle that separated them from me.

Now I see things a bit clearer. I don't think it's jealousy anymore. I think it's fear.

I think that people like you, Mr. Hampton, are scared of people like me. You're scared that being such an incredible athlete and fighting for everything you believe in and carrying the company on your back and doing all of this extra bullshit to rally the fans behind you is going to mean nothing when you climb into the ring with someone like me. I think that you idiots put all your heart and soul into this business that when you come up against someone that can dominate you between business meetings on a random Friday before jet setting off to Milan, that you're not what you think you are. How is it going to look when you've beaten the entire Olympus roster, minus one, at the Thunderbastard only to get your ass handed to you and your championship taken away from you, by what I'm sure you consider to be a part timer?

How do you come back from that? How are you going to look at yourself in the mirror after I waltz in and take what you've made the most important thing in your life away from you? How are you going to explain this to your fans? To your family? How are you going to continue to be Elijah Hampton after I destroy Elijah Hampton?

I don't think you understand fully what's going to happen to you at OWA5. I don't think you really get it. Every single person I've faced in OWA has had to change. They've had to pivot. They believed they were someone or something and I made them become something different. For better or worse, these people are no longer the same individuals they were when they crossed paths with me. You can say whatever you want about me but I make people either wish they weren't in my sights or grateful for my presence. Regardless of what you might think, Mr. Hampton, Remington Ivory Prescott has made an impact on the Omega Wrestling Alliance.

Look at Brandon Hendrix. Six months ago this man was nothing. Now he's in and out of the title scene and the only Italian Olympian worth anything at this point.

Look at Nate Cage. This man is so afraid that I'm going to ascend Olympus to the heavens that he had to go and dig up some dinosaur from the Before Times just to try and stop me.

Look at Graham Baker. When I first got to OWA, I was right beside him. Now he's fucking Death.

Look at Noah Reigner. I pissed him off so bad he doesn't know if he's still in OWA or not.

Look at Mark Michaels. Mr. Holier Than Thou vowed to never return to his former evil ways. Now he's a conniving cheat that will do whatever he needs to win. Again.

Look at Elon Musk. He's dead and Twitter is once again a safe space for all.

Bottom line, Mr. Hampton? No matter the outcome of our match at OWA5, you will not be the same. You will not come out the other side the same cocky little brat with a mouthful of low-hanging fruit and a chip on his shoulder the size of the Immortal Heavyweight Championship.

So where does that leave us, Mr. Hampton?

You've made it abundantly clear what you think of me. I haven't bothered to actually pay attention to anything you've said out of clear and utter disrespect. I'm sure you've taken the time to carefully go through my ups and downs here on Olympus. I'm sure you've spent way more time than I have trying to find just the right insulting words to put into a straight line in order to try and get a rise out of me. I'm more than confident in saying that you've very likely fired shots at me, my character, my lifestyle, my alleged irrelevancy here in the company and any other number of things that I'm sure you expect me to defend.

But that's not a game that I play. That's for the people that don't have anything else going on in their lives but wrestling to do. I'll leave that to the Hamptons, Reigners and Michaels of the world. You people can continue to live in a world where your entire lives revolve around this little bubble that you've created around yourselves. This little safe space where your fans will chant and scream your name at the top of their lungs. All under the absolutely batshit notion that you actually matter. To them. To this business. To OWA. To anyone.

You Don't.

What the people actually care about are the people like me. The Prescotts, the-- well, nobody else really compares to me so the Prescotts. People don't show up to these events to see you defend the Immortal Heavyweight Championship against me. They show up to see how I'm going to take it from you. People don't watch schlocky bullshit like the Thunderbastard to see if you'll manage to "defeat the insurmountable odds". They show up to see if I'm making my triumphant return. People don't care if a champion stays a champion. People don't care if the hero stays vigilant. This is the real world, Mr. Hampton. People want to see the Bad Guy win.

When I turned my back on the brand that thought it could continue to screw me over time and time again, the world might as well have stopped spinning. Nobody knew what to do. They had lost the only individual that posed any real threat to anybody else on that roster. Was OWA in trouble? No. Of course not. Not while it still had Real Sex on Saturday nights and My Hero Academia on Sunday nights. The company, as a whole, would be fine.

Olympus, on the other hand, was dying.

Left in the hands of the most incapable hands in this industry, it was up to me to come back from my glorious vacation and once again put myself in the middle of this goddamn war zone full of freaks, felons and fools just to give YOU an opportunity of a lifetime. Just to give you, Mr. Hampton, an opponent that would actually be a threat. All of this, just to put you in a position to actually prove that you are not the fluke of an accidental champion that I know, and you know, you are.

I bought Olympus for two reasons, Mr. Hampton.

Number One? To fire Mr. Cage and send his ass back to the Upside Down where he and the rest of the Goonies can live together in perfect homeless harmony and away from the brand that I'm going to single-handedly resurrect to the top of this goddamn company.

Number Two? The Immortal Heavyweight Championship.

It just so happens, Mr. Hampton, as the Owner of Olympus, that Immortal Heavyweight Championship that you claim to be so fond of, that's so important to you, that you're ready and willing to die in order to keep slung over your shoulder? All of that heart, passion, blood, sweat and all those tears? All those people in all those arenas, your entire past, all your moments of light and darkness? Every single fiber of your pitiful existence and unwanted being? Everything that you've fought for, against and with up until the moment you walk through those doors at Madison Square Garden, strut your little Drop Dead Diva ass down that ramp, climb into My Fucking Ring and wait for that bell? All of that? Doesn't mean a goddamn thing because what you have in your possession, quite literally and legally, belongs to me.

Despite whatever claim you may think you have to it? Whatever you think you've earned or deserve? You don't.

You have my property, Mr. Hampton. I consider that a debt.

One I'm coming to collect.

The Banshee, Darkane, Theodor Pavel, Elijah Hampton, #BeLikeBea, Rebecca Filth, DT The Ruler and have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos April 27th 2023, 9:24 pm by **DarkCircle**

{The camera starts up and we find ourselves looking at none other than the “Grinning Demon” himself, Ryo Sakazaki. He is sitting in a chair and dressed in his street gear and looks both rather pensive and angry at the same time, but there is also a look of razor focus in his eyes that reflects the seriousness of the young man and when he speaks, there is none of the character that we normally hear in his voice…none of the strangled rage nor barely hidden madness is present}

Ryo: For the first time in a long time, I’m going to be completely honest with you all and I know that it’s going to piss quite a few people off…but you know what, *fuck* it.

When I say that I grew up a fan of professional wrestling, it’s not just something that I say. I remember waking up when I was a kid to watch Saturday morning cartoons and then the instant that eleven o’clock hit, I would switch over to a local affiliate that was able to show live wrestling from the Mid South Coliseum down in Memphis, and what I couldn’t watch on TV then I would get from trading tapes with my friends and other tape traders. I was ten years old when I made that decision that this, *THIS* was what I wanted to do with my life and I put every single effort that I could into becoming the kind of wrestler that I wanted to be.

Now, when I first joined this company three years ago, I did so under the belief that this would be a killer company to work for and that I would be allowed to actually go out there, pay my dues, learn from several of the greats in this industry, and be allowed to do the one thing that I love beyond anything else in this world and that is fucking *wrestle*.

I could count the veterans that formed this company on one hand that were willing to let me sit and learn from them, the others were too busy trying to protect their precious spots like I was going to be an instant freaking threat to their careers less than a year out from my own debut??

So I kept my nose to the grindstone, busted my ass week in and week out trying to just keep to what I enjoyed doing and that was wrestle…but apparently that pissed off people because around that same time the fans suddenly and sharply started to call for my head, crying out for me to suffer and sudden and brutal end of my career or worse and to make matters worse during that time, during the match for the Ascension briefcase and in what should been one of the greatest moments of my entire *CAREER* up to that point…I was made to look like a complete fucking fool and denied my chance as I watched it being handed to somebody else.

{Ryo looks ready to lose it, but instead he simply closes his eyes…takes a couple of breaths…and the moment passes as he opens his eyes again}

Ryo: It was at that time that one of those four veterans in the back that I mentioned came to me and told me to use my anger, that rage to reinvent myself and to grow from it and that is what I did, I went from being the Ryo Sakazaki that had joined the Omega Wrestling Alliance to have fun and wrestle…to the fucking “Grinning Demon”, as I chose to give in to my rage and sorrow rather than let it kill me which is what so many people wanted.

But I finally figured it out, I understand now why I was made to suffer and why this company put so many other people over me and it was staring at me the entire time;

The powers that be of the OWA needed a mechanic.

They *needed* a guy, like me, who was talented and dedicated enough to this fucking industry who would willingly put what was best for the Omega Wrestling Alliance and Professional Wrestling as a *WHOLE* above his own wants and career…and thus with my help, I got to make the careers of pathetic, little shitball talents like Corey Matthews, Remington Ivory Presscot, and Brandon Hendrix to name just a few.

So how does it feel boys? How does it feel knowing that your entire shit-tastic careers up to this point in this company is only possible because *I* made it possible and not because of any supposed talent that you claim to possess and had I the inkling to be a real bastard, I could’ve *UNMADE* your fucking careers here in this company before any of you really got started…but that would involve going Broadway and I’m not in this industry to destroy people’s dreams like so many of you have tried to destroy mine.

But here is where it gets truly funny in that while my title reigns here in the Alliance has been short, almost comically…I’m a respected champion elsewhere.

Think about it, I am the reigning and defending Strong Style Wrestling United States Heavyweight champion and I’m also one half of the South Western Wrestling Syndicate World Tag Team champions going on almost a year…

{A faint smile threatens to cross onto Ryo’s face but he fights to keep it off of him}

Ryo: You see, the irony is not lost on me that I’ve allowed myself to fall so far and I let how other people perceive me take over what was important to me and now, at OWA Five….I’m going to do the one thing that has constantly been denied to me over the past two years;

I’m going to take my mother fucking career *back* for my own.

I’m in a number one contender's match for the Immortal championship and while a part of me personally thinks that I’m not worthy of such a shot…I’m not going to turn down a chance to do the one thing that I’ve been really wanting to do since I won my first Icarus championship and that is prove myself.

That is what Marce and Nobi have to face come this weekend on pay per view. They have to step into the ring with somebody who has spent the last couple of years being forced to do what others consider to be “best for business”....forced to put over arrogant, no talent little pedantic twats who feel entitled just because they have rubbed elbows with some of the greater talents on this roster or some reason or another.

Now Marce, I look at you and I can see just how lethally effective that you are in that ring. I can see in your eyes and in your bearing just how much that boiling lava that you call blood is churning in your veins from the fire that’s burning your soul black in a need to prove why you feel that you’re nothing more than a “Walking Weapon”...but all of that fire that you’ve got burning inside of you is nothing and I happily repeat *nothing* compared to the fire that’s been burning inside of me, a fire that I will gladly use to immolate you into a pile of worthless ash if you bring anything less than your absolute *best* to our match at the pay per view.

But you see, Marce, even though you are a major threat to my winning this match and I do acknowledge you as such…there is one person that I deem an even bigger threat.

You, Nobi.

I heard every word that you spoke, “White Knight”, and while I can acknowledge the attempt at respect that you showed me…I can’t let that stop me from what I need to do at the pay per view and that is I have to tear through the both of you in order to make it onto that next step on my way to not only redeeming myself as a wrestler in this company after so much has happened, but also to prove to myself that I am the kind of wrestler that the Omega Wrestling Alliance *deserves*, because as much as you’ve hated watching me become that Grinning Demon…the question is did you really do anything to reach out and help stop or at the very least slow my downfall?

And before you assume anything, I don’t lay the entirety of the demon at your feet,Nobi, because that would be a foolish thing to believe and I have known enough fools to suffer two entirely different lifetimes.

As for your little comment about my chosen “path”? I think that you’d better be more concerned with what I chose to do from here on in rather than what happened at the last pay per view because I’m out for prizes bigger than some ten pounds of fake gold and leather now, something that *you* of all freaking people should understand better than anyone in the desire to prove that you’re better than what people see externally….

{Ryo’s head then tilts to the right, eyes growing very hard}

Ryo: Or has Reno Dumont forgiven you for failing all those times that you let him down when you chose to focus on the Pizza Boy rather than helping your team win the WrestleWorld tag team championships, hmmm?

But I down right fucking refuse to allow you to step into that ring and rob me of something that I’m willing to break necks over. For something that I’m willing to end my career over and *NO*, it is not a shot at the Immortals championship…No, because while you and Marce are fighting over a mere trinket because of the hollowness that is buried deep within you, I am fighting for my very piece of mind and I’ll be fucking dead and *buried* before I let anyone else take that from me.

{Ryo stops talking and once more closes his eyes and takes a deep breath that he holds for several seconds before he opens them again, his gaze intense}

Ryo: So many of you over these past couple of years have always been the one to brag that you’ll be the one that’ll break me so badly that I’ll never darken the halls of the Omega Wrestling Alliance again or that you’ll be the one to finally end my career and yet time and time and time and *time* *AGAIN*...that’s all ever comes from what you say;

Words.

Just Words.

Just hollow, pointless, little *Words*....and nothing else.

Because I am still here, I’m still busting my ass in that ring each and every week…and I’m still helping to put that ring together before each and every show that I’m on and I help the ring crew take it down afterwards because I’ll never stop paying my dues, earning my fucking *keep* in this company.

No matter what you assholes say or do.

What’s truly funny is that I never wanted to be like Asakura….I wanted to be more like Jeff X, or more importantly the *MAN*, Stark, *himself*.

Funny how quickly our dreams turn to ash, isn’t?

Marce…Nobi, I hope that you’re ready for a fucking war because I’m not giving this up without somebody breaking my *neck*.

See you both in the ring.

{The screen fades to black as Ryo walks away}

#BeLikeBea has spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos April 27th 2023, 8:50 pm by **Raivo**

Every day brings more and more disappointment to the streets of wrestling. People work hard only to get their names besmirched by people who don’t hold a candle to the accolades and it’s funny. I’d usually let it slide because I know one thing and that’s I am better than those who try and use my name as fodder. I let them talk because it’s all I know they can do. If they were able to do anything else they would or at least they would show something for their troubles. And I’m not one to get too philosophical with this shit especially when it pertains I care little for. I don’t know why I have to keep saying this, it’s a lot more annoying for me than it is for all of you. Because I know I can keep saying I don’t care, but the reason I have to keep saying it is because you don’t listen. You don’t hear me talk, you hear a chatterbox, you here someone who is just outright loud and very very obnoxious. I realize that, I know that, and I love being that, because no one’s been able to check. Hell those who beat me know I don’t stay down for long, and that they can try their damnedest but it ain’t matter to me. Cause I’M DIFFERENT, I’M THE PROBLEM THEY BEEN TRYNA SOLVE FOR THE LONGEST TIME. And they can’t they can try as damn long as they fucking want but they will never beat the spirit outta me. And you know what that’s the first time I’ve used that word. Spirit, it fits. You know so many people who go like fighting spirit how they ain’t ever gonna fall to the evils of this world. But them bitches talkin like they in anime. Talkin like they Goku or Naruto or some shit, acting like the evils of the world is an us vs them situation. But for me, that spirit is more like Floyd Mayweather, Mike Tyson, Muhammed Fucking Ali. They ain’t want those people to win. They hate em, they wanted to boo and cuss them outta the arena because they couldn’t handle they was better than they heroes. That “Fighting spirit” got them through it. But to call it a fighting spirit is detrimental to what it actually was and that was not dealing with any and all bullshit. We know where we stand in all of this.

Because let’s talk about it really, the truth of this matter is that they hate it when we talk because we do it better. When you have the Dojo Bitches and Genital Wards over here talking about how either hungry they are, how ruthless they can be, how they’re able to change the landscape, they throw us, because we do it better than them. And they know that. They wanna talk down our accomplishments because they can’t handle the fact that we do it better than them. We fought hard to gain our titles, through tactics we ain’t shy from because we know if they could it, that if they was the shit like they say they are then it wouldn’t matter in the long run right boys? Oh but that doesn’t fit with this narrative of how much you worked, of how you became ruthless does it? It doesn’t fit when you realize that these assholes can get duped, played for chumps like any fucker on the street. It doesn’t help that when we get to the nitty gritty of the similarities to us you have those others who have had close calls and could handle, you had those who got beaten good and didn’t leave room for argument that they were not ready, but for us you always have those. You know when we have close calls we catch up and clutch it like Jimmy Butler in playoff mode. You know when we get beaten, there’s always the talk of how close we were and how it could have gone one way or the other. We are better because we don’t leave room for people to talk or think that the other team had us to our limit. None of these teams before me can say the same, none of them are able to comfortably say they were ready. None of them are able to give any argument that they deserve the space they occupy. For the Minorities has shown we belong, For the Minorities has shown that we are the ones who own our space, and For the Minorities give without quarter. And that’s what makes these two fuming with such jealousy that they are unwilling to look at the truth. They are unwilling to look us in the eye because the truth they preach is nothing but likes.

The truth hurts and as much as I like to sound cliche, I much prefer to also tell you what you need to know. We are above you. Seventh Ward, Dojo Bros, the level you want to get on is nowhere near the leave you need to be just to be in the conversation with us. For Seventh Ward, you have accolades, you have the weight of the names of both Darkane and Laz, but other than that you two are nothing but shills, just mere shells of what you used to be so now you’re just caricatures of what that legacy was. When I call you emo, goths, or whatever is equal to the cringe that is Seventh Ward, I mean that you just become cartoons of what you want to be. You want to be ruthless, willing to die for your beliefs, then let me tell you I don’t believe you. If this was Darkane a year ago, Laz when we was getting to know you, then yes I would believe you, but what I see now are two assholes phoning it in. I see those with a conviction even they don’t believe and while you want to drag us down with you, you don’t really. You don’t have anything of worth to bring us down to. And you’re never going to do that. You’re going to continue being the worthless grubs you see us as. You’re going to the fucking worms that we walk over in a ground full of shit. And that’s all the Seventh Ward is, that’s all they will be. And surprisingly you two aren’t the most pathetic to act like they still own this space. Because the pathetic ones come in the form of the Dojo Bros.

If the Ward are worms, little fucking insects that thrive and dig through shit, then what does that make you two? I mean if we wanna be poetic about how you two are just buds of a flower who have yet to bloom we could all lie and make you feel good about yourself but you two aren’t that. You’re weeds, an invasive species who grow where they’re not supposed to. Now that could get your ego inflated but rest assured that’s not why I call you weeds. Nah I call you that because one, as a boy I had to help out around the house and one of the things they wanted me to do was pull the weeds to make sure where they’re growing they ain’t there no more. A simple task, and it was so very fun in hindsight. Because I was removing things that were not allowed to be here, things that had no place being. And looking back, talking about two rookies who had no place being in a match with DT and I, we did just that. We uprooted them, broke them down, showed them the level they are playing at is not the level they were ever prepared for. And yet because of them being weeds they still found their way up here. I don’t know if it’s cause Emmy got something on Oasis or if Tyler and Sena sold their bodies to someone in the back but they’re here, right at the same level they was at. And I said before it’s pathetic thinking they were ever ready to come at us in the first place. It was pathetic thinking they were ever ready to fight us in the first place, and it’s pathetic that instead of getting better on their own regard, they still think about us. I mean I’m flattered, but admitting to having two people forever living rent free in your head, man I woulda kept that silent. You woulda had to torture me and tell me you was gonna do something especially heinous to even get something similar out of my mouth, but I don’t have the low esteem like Sena and Tyler do. These two clods, these clout chasers look to become new champions for a new era. This era ain’t even complete yet, you got me and DT still leading the charge so you need to either sit down and shut up, or get back in the line and come back when you’re ready. But I don’t think they’ll ever be ready. Because when it comes to being pathetic pieces of shit you got these assholes underestimating the champions before them like we ain’t stomp them down quicker than anyone else. Like in terms of the people we’ve fought before you two ain’t even last a minute in the history book of FTM. And yet you think you’re ready. Especially you Sena.

Like listen man, I get your anger, but you acting very bitch made. You acting like you got sonned by DT (you did) or something. Wait I forgot you did. You not only got sonned, you got embarrassed, you were reminded that you couldn’t live up to your own hype and because of that the only competitor you’ve faced that was even at your level was a fucking monkey. And you struggled with that. You struggled and you still have the audacity to come and say that you’re going to take the titles from us. Which in itself is so fucking hilarious. But you got us so far in your head that you letting yourself get carried away. You not balanced, you too hotheaded and you think you have a chance. I’m a loudmouth, I’m a hothead, but I ain’t never lose my cool like you do because I know what that do to your focus and concentration and the mere fact that you time being taught by Emmy has gotten through your head just tells me the merit of what you’ve learned. And that’s just that what you’ve learned is dogshit. You want to talk down to me because you’re angry, well get in line, everyone loves to talk down to the black man because they angry. Because we ain’t following your grand master plan. Oh boo fucking hoo you little pissant. But you know I don’t expect nothing else from a disciple of Emmy. You asked why I keep bringing them up, I do so because it gets you angry and gets you desperate, but also because of this. Emmy ain’t a leader nor a teacher, especially a teacher you should be following. Because the person you follow is not just pathetic, but is only molding you to become a nothing more than just an accolade. It’s funny you don’t see it, it’s funny you don’t see that you are no better off then you began with. You are still the same person that got his shit rocked by DT. You are still the same person who couldn’t get it done because you felt you had to help your teacher. You are still the same person you’ve always been and that’s a liability to yourself and your team. I don’t come after Emmy because of some grudge you think I have. I do so because you ain’t seeing the rut you got yourself in and I’m tryna be nice to show you the truth. But nah I get it. When you get too involved with something, when you get to far, you become just another mind following the norm. And that’s going to be your downfall. Hell not just you but Tyler. Because Sena look man, you both ain’t working out. The Dojo Bros, they just a name that never got anywhere and honestly if you broke it off now, no one would care, nor would we lose anything of importance anyway. But I get it, you put so much time and effort into this, so it’s hard to cut it loose. That ain’t gonna matter come OWA 5, cause DT and I, we gonna get surgical. We gonna make what your embarrassment was last time we met look like just a small hazing project. Nah this time it’s going to get ugly and it’ll be the fault of both you and Tyler. Because you could have done better, you coulda got better, but you decided to coast and stick with what you thought was good. And because of that decision we’re going to make sure you don’t make it any further then you lucked your way to this. I’m going to make that my mission to embarrass both you and the ken doll you call a partner.

These four fools they want a title. They want what they believe an easy way back into relevance but damn are they in for a shock. Look I get it, For the Minorities is a team people want to beat, just so that they can say we finally shut them up. But that’s all the goal is. When it gets past that what then? What are you going to do to make sure we don’t come back and take back our titles? What are you going to do to make sure we stop harassing you? You’ll have to have the answer during the match because let me tell you, short of killing us, you can’t do a damn thing to stop what we are able to do. We ain’t been this long because of luck or cunning tactic, but because we ourselves are damn resilient. We don’t have these nicknames because we gave it to ourselves but because what we do proves our drive, our ambition, and why we was given them in the first place. If you want to think those names are just names then you in for a shock. If you want to think these were given because they were catchy, your closer but you’ll still be in for a shock. I live by the names given to me. Even the names Frontline been calling me. You know Bastard, fucking snake, all of that because I know what I am that causes those names to be thrown my way. And it is in that I know they do it because they fear what I can become. These tag titles are just something that have shown a little bit of what you get from Raivo, and these are also just something have shown a little bit of what you get from DT. And the fact you think you can judge us on just that amount, that you think you know the outcome because of one event just goes to show me that you ain’t really be in the ring with us. Seventh Ward, you think you’re coming into a match with Olympus bitches, that you can run roughshod and get what you want because ain’t no one able to stop you. Dojo Bros, you think you’ve gotten tougher and better than when you first met us without the thought that we’ve done the same fucking thing. All I am saying is that for people who want to be prepared, for all your expectations your thinking is old. Your thinking is not updated to what it can be and because of that you are unable to really see the future and that future is being the bitches to For the Minorities. You want to look down on us because it’s the easy thing to do, but if you do that not only do you risk losing to people you looked down upon, but then what happens when the shiteaters you think so little of beat you? Does that mean we got lucky? Does that mean we cheated and got through a trial? Or does that mean you were never good enough. Honestly to me, I talk shit, and I have confidence. But I can already tell the two of you don’t got that. I can talk shit about you and say I don’t give a shit about you because it’s true. It’s not something I am saying because I want to boost my ego, no I say it because it’s just how I think. I never give a shit about anyone I face. And if I lose, I move the fuck on to brighter pastures. Cause thinking about the loss, thinking about how they beat me is how they win. And you four, I know you think low of me and DT because you actually feel that way to boost your ego and confidence. Something you can’t afford. Something you are unable to hold up because of your own thought process. So when we beat you, we break you. And that’s going to the fun I am looking for. I am looking to break you because it excites me to know that not only did I win, but I am still in your head like a fucking tumor. You can try your hardest to stop thinking of me but look at poor Sena, homie can’t get DT outta his mind, and from what we hear of Tyler, he’s probably having a hard time getting his loss to me out of his mind as well. And that’s what For the Minorities gonna do, make you remember the failures you turned out to be. Because this is our world. As long as we here it will continue to be

#BeLikeBea and DT The Ruler have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos April 27th 2023, 8:46 pm by **Theodor Pavel**

OWA 5 - Promo #3

“Make Believe”

Long day. From the early workout this morning to the flight out of Miami, there was very little downtime for “The Hands Of Ice” Theodor Pavel. It didn’t end with the flight, however, as the arrival at JFK airport proved to be much more stressful than he expected. It wasn’t his first trip to New York, he had made a few in the last eighteen months. While everyone harped on how important Madison Square Garden was, he didn’t seem concerned about that. MSG was important, sure, but it was an intimate setting. After all, it wasn’t but two years ago that Theodor went to battle in a Bloodsport Match against Michael Bishop in front of 100,000 people in Los Angeles. It wasn’t even eighteen months ago that he went to Citi Field and fought in front of 40,000 people to face off against one of the greatest competitors the sport had ever seen. Madison Square Garden was history; it was nostalgia. He had grown tired of nostalgia in recent weeks.

Theodor and the film crew were in Flushing, standing just outside of Citi Field, setting everything up. Some of the crew members would notice random fans approach him in an attempt to get an autograph. He would quickly get through the seekers, sending them on their way. Removing his jacket, Theodor looked down at his Taniguchi Sena t-shirt, it was clear that he was sweating a little bit.

“Is it just me, or is it really hot out right now?”

Some of the crew members began to laugh as Theodor shrugged it off.

“Come on, man. We know you want everyone to see your muscles and all, but..Goosebumps?”

“What do you mean?”

Taking a glance down, he noticed that his arms had become swarmed with goosebumps. Maybe it wasn’t quite as hot as Theodor thought it was.

“I don’t even care. You know where we are right now? This is New York! Knicks are going all the way, yes?”

“Sure.”

“Besides, big event in a small arena, we can do this! Are we almost ready? I have a lot of things to say. Everyone has been saying how much I suck around here, so let’s knock this out of the park.”

Just as it was time to deliver the goods, Theodor was beginning to have second doubts. No, it wasn’t about the words he was about to say, but he really should have worn a hoodie today. The countdown began as the crew were ready to film some magic, allowing the Hands of Ice to hype himself up.

“Have I ever told you that I hate pre-tapes?”

“We’re live, Theo.”

Well, that was a kick in the nuts.

“Well, shit. Hello everybody, this is “The Hands Of Ice” Theodor Pavel. In case you haven’t noticed, these hands are melting in the heat of New York. Jim, what is the temperature again?”

“It’s about 55.”

“Oh. Well, sorry. It’s not warm but I want everyone to have one last chance to check out this lovely city before OWA comes in and blows the roof off of Madison Square Garden. Is the roof really that weak? I don’t know how old the building is, but I just today found out that there is a train station attached. Talk about convenience, New York City. You guys knew what you were doing all along, yes? You know who else knew exactly what they were doing all along? Mongoose McQueen. Sure, I’ve said some things about this man, but he really is a smart man after all. I mean, think about it. Asakura, Sabertooth, Maggall, and I went to war. We fought for our lives and didn’t hold back in the slightest.. Except for Maggall. He was there somewhere. Meanwhile, Mongoose sat back and did nothing for years. He comes back and suddenly wants to be in the snake pit with the best in the world. That term is thrown around a lot, best in the world or GOAT. We have goats. I don’t know why that’s important, but the fact that you have been so happy to sit out and suddenly decide to come in and try to make yourself a name again.. Why?

Was the spotlight too hard for you before? Why even leave unless you had a real reason? I’m sure it was important, but to come back at this stage against people who have been physically destroyed in the last month, it is a bitch move. Just so happens, though.. We’re not like normal men. No. We’re gladiators, right? Warriors of the ring and we will stomp out the part time bitch before he even realizes what he has done. I like this. Can we put that on a t-shirt?”

“Put what on a t-shirt?”

“Warriors of the Ring.”

“I’m sure some idiot has already done it.”

“Whatever. My point is, Mongoose wanted to talk shit about me as if I wasn’t going to hear about it from somebody. What a bitch. He shows up because Scott Oasis probably pedaled out a bunch of money to the old men and women because he thinks today’s wrestlers aren’t good enough. Bring back the old men and let them think they’re still special. That’s Mongoose McQueen. He was so worried about how I still have a job in this company, he completely forgot that anybody I’ve been in the ring with has been feeling it ever since. He hasn’t been kicked by me, but I know his tune will change when it happens. After that, he’ll do the same thing that all the flavors of the week do, step back in line where they belong while I work my way back up to be in the top spot again.

If he’s watching, which I’m sure he is, he’s probably saying silly shit like ‘Well, you’ve never been the Champion, Theodor! How dare you say a nasty thing about a hall of famer when you haven’t done anything noteworthy here? Choke artist this, Midcard guy that. Other shit. Random insult.’ You think I haven’t heard all that shit before? It’s beyond me how easily people fool themselves into believing that a title will make someone a complete star. You know what Morgan said? He said that the title needs the wrestler, the wrestler doesn’t need the title. If my career will be defined as a guy who needs a title to be a star, then I wouldn’t be a very good one. So, enjoy the fantasy that Mongoose McQueen is going to be such a challenge in the ring. He’s out of shape and he doesn’t want to put the effort in, he’s going down in this one. Sorry to fans of the old guys, the new guys just hit that much harder. Can you get me a hot dog?”

That was out of left field. It didn’t take long for somebody to get a hot dog from the vendor, leaving Theodor with a huge smile on his face when the hot dog was brought to him. After all, why go to New York if you weren’t going to take advantage of the food? The crew followed the young Romanian as he walked around the perimeter of Citi Field, occasionally taking a bite of his hot dog.

“Like I said, we hit hard. You know who else hits hard? Arata Asakura. I know he hits hard, you know why? Because I was the man who brought his best fights out of him. Whether he wants to admit it or not, he knows that this battle of power won’t end. I know in three more years, we’re going to fight numerous times. We’re going to punch each other, we’re going to kick each other, we’re going to hurt one another. It’ll be personal, it’ll be business.. He knows this to be true. He won’t admit it though, since he’s stuck in this belief that I’m still WAAAAAAAY down here. Look at my hand.”

Theodor’s hand was barely off the ground as he tried to keep the hot dog from falling out of his other hand. Multi-talented, this man was.

“That’s where I know the man is wrong. I can respect his accomplishments NOW.. Not so much back then. People remember how bad things were between us and how he was this emperor of evil shit. That man doesn’t exist anymore. No, he’s a competitor and one of the toughest to step into the ring with. With that said, though, he gets his exposure. He gets his big matches and he gets a lot of things that others don’t. Can’t say too much against it because he got there by winning matches, big matches. I haven’t done that enough to be in the talks, I guess. Not to say that I haven’t won when it counted but maybe he was onto something when he said I wasn’t on his level. I guess I’m not..Not yet. I may be lower on the scale than Arata Asakura, but.. I won’t be forever. Maybe, weird thought…Maybe that will shift after OWA 5 when I defeat him. He wants a lot of the same things I do but I have to believe at some point that after you’ve seen so much success, maybe it won’t mean as much to him. Would his life change that much if he won the Clash? No. Probably not. Would his life change for the better if he main evented Final Destination AGAIN? I don’t think so. For me, though.. It changes the game completely.”

After finishing up his hot dog, Theodor threw the wrapper into the trash. He peered around the surroundings before focusing his sights on Citi Field itself.

“I’ve been wondering about something.”

“Huh?”

“Why Citi Field and not something like Times Square or Yankee Stadium? The Statue of Liberty? Empire State Building?”

“The Avengers Headquarters? The Wakandan Embassy? That big building that Dr. Strange lived in?”

“Well, I mean.. Those aren’t real.”

“I guess they aren’t. No, I think this is better. All those places that you named, they’re huge. Everyone goes to those places. The history, the magic of New York City is in all of those places, right? Just like how the old people are all part of the magic in OWA. People forget about places like Citi Field, the home of the Mets. Maybe people resent the Mets for leaving Shea Stadium.”

“Wait, how do you know so much about the New York Mets?”

Theodor glances out of the corner of his eye at the crew member, pointing to the plaque. He wasn’t a baseball expert.

“I guess I can understand the Mets. The little brother to the stars. Jeff and Bishop are fighting for the Championship. Sabe, Arata looking to return to Final Destination in the main event. For the last two years, I’ve felt like the guy who didn’t belong among these guys. It wasn’t until someone sat me down and made me realize what I could be, that I began to believe again. When that happened, my whole world blew open. I learned that despite being the youngest Frontline member, I didn’t always have to be holding the door for the big guys. They can open their own doors.

Speaking of big guys..

I know we talk a lot of shit about Maggall. I mean, who hasn’t taken shots at this man? He’s overweight, he knows that. He makes fun of it, right? That’s the thing though, he’s embraced it. I have no problem with overweight people, my father is kind of fat himself. You know what the difference is between my father and Maggall though? My father doesn’t try to squeeze into a pair of trunks and fight people who have muscle.

I feel something for Maggall, truthfully. Maybe he trusted me for two seconds and was hurt when I decided to kick him in the face. If he felt that way, he had a terrible way of showing it though. All the guy did was yell at me when I was in the match. He wanted me to crush Sabe. He wanted me to hurt my Frontline brothers. He wanted me to get him a pizza, and yes, that actually happened. I guess the disappointing feeling for me when it comes to Maggall is I look at a guy who has a lot of gifts that could be amazing in wrestling. He’s the biggest guy in the room. He’s athletic and has a cool voice. I like his voice, but I don’t think he wants to do this. He doesn’t want to be there because he’s accepted that he isn’t very good at the little things, like being able to beat people up. Great genes, but shit wrestler.

Here’s an idea, Maggall. I know a guy who knows a few guys who might be able to help you with that. Wait, I know those few guys too. You can train with them and maybe get the better end of wrestling. Maybe you could win a title and have a belt that actually fits. Just think about it. Maybe you’re like me and realized that the title was an illusion. A false brass ring that doesn’t truly define how great you really are. I’d rather it be a trophy, honestly.”

As he took a seat on the bench, Theodor found himself trying to regroup his thoughts upon his false beliefs that the title didn’t mean anything. Deep down, he wanted it as badly as anyone else. He had been disappointed in each failed attempt, yet wanted to believe that he could become something. The OWA World Heavyweight Championship wasn’t just any title to him. It was the thing that he failed to get. It was the definition of redemption to him, but he didn’t want the world to know that.

“Then we got Sabertooth…”

“Don’t you think you were a little harsh on him earlier? I mean you did blame the guy for ruining your career.”

“Did I?”

“Yeah, you basically said that he was responsible for the worst year of your life. That seemed harsh to me.”

“Maybe it was. The story of Chris Sabertooth and myself goes back to my first year. It was this winding story about a guy who flew high until somebody took him down. It wasn’t just the Ashes of the Wake that made that year what it was, it was the close call. It was that moment where he used Kenny Drake’s own finisher to defeat me on the night dedicated to his memory. The man whose death he was responsible for. I eventually forgave him for that, I really did. I moved on from that negative feeling because of Jeff. Jeff painted him as a man of redemption. He was right, Chris hasn’t looked back since those days. He’s been amazing in the ring as he always was, but he was fighting for the right reasons.

What happened last year at the Clash, I can’t say that I didn’t take it personally. I did. I felt let down by a guy who had been through it all, just like me. Not even a few months prior, I watched the man burn in hell. I prayed for his safety and he eliminated me just months later in a match where I felt I was the best competitor there. It was taken from me, Jim. It was GONE. He went on to have big matches, great showcase at Final Destination while I played a real version of Fall Guys. Sounds entertaining, but I wasn’t put on this earth to wear sumo suits. I was born a fighter.

I’m going off topic here, but that started this whole mess. That moment when my feet hit the floor, I can’t go back to that again. I took it out on Sabe when I shouldn’t have, but damn it if my feelings weren’t shattered. It didn’t stop me from fighting by his side, but professionally.. I want to beat him. I can’t live like this, all those nasty feelings. I blamed him, yes.. However I do blame myself. My only option coming up is a simple one, and it’s to win this damn match. Win when nobody else thinks I’m going to. Then I go to the Clash, win that thing. Then I go to Final Destination and show the entire planet that I’m not just the guy who jerks the curtain. I’m the guy who’s going to re-shape OWA for years to come.

It’s not in stone, but it may as well be. I have to win this. Still, there’s one more thing that bugs me. Why in the hell is the OWA Outlaw Title on the line? I don’t want that thing. Anything that I owned that was taken from me by Udy of all people, that tells me that the value isn’t much. I’m not going into Madison Square Garden to win a belt that any idiot can win. I’m going there to win the match that only the best will win. After that, I don’t know.. What would I even do with that stupid thing? I’ve held it so many times that I’ve forgotten that feeling of holding it, I’m numb to it. Just like how Asakura got numb to holding the World Title, I’m over the Outlaw title. Scott Oasis won’t be happy to hear that, but he can have the damn title for all I care.

Besides, knowing his ego, Oasis would probably try to win it himself. So, there’s that. I’m ready to fight four men to kick off the biggest comeback story that I can give. A chance to finally slay these demons that have kept me away. That’s what is important to me. I’m stepping out of fighting for my life in order to fight to be the best in this industry.

Sabertooth, Asakura, Maggall, old man… I’m done playing around and it’s time to fight. Like Bishop always said..

LET’S FUCKING GO.”

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

“Look at it.

Feel the weight of it in your hand.

Feel the smoothness of the leather, the intricate details of the gold plates.

Smell the scent of it, see the light glimmering off of the jewels that trace over it.

Cherish that championship over these next few days, Diantha. Because it will be the last fucking time you ever look at it. The last time you ever feel the weight of it in your hand. The last time you ever feel the smoothness of the leather. The last time you smell it.

Chop that leather up and snort it. Take a page from Carlos’ book.

You are a disease. You are everything that Thotyssey has tried to purge Odyssey of for the last year. Your pathetic tropes… the I’Ve GiVeN Up EvEryThiNg FoR ThiS types. You’re a hypocrite. I’m so sick of hearing the bullshit about the ‘greats’, the has-beens and the women that were. There’s a reason none of them are here anymore. It’s because they knew when to hang up their boots. They understood, deeply, that the trajectory of any ‘great’ wrestler who tried well past their peak only steamrolled downwards. Jonetta…Natalie Cage…dead, retired.

Lucky for you, since you seem to want to be among those names so badly… you’ve found the right person who can make that happen for you. The only woman on this roster who can make that happen for you. As a matter of fact, I’d be happy to.

When I win my Undisputed Women’s World Championship back, one thing I will never do is pay homage. To anyone. Why should I? Those women don’t mean anything to me. When I look at the history of that belt, you know what I see? Exactly what you said. Corruption. Weakness.

Complacency.

My legendary Sparks Championship reign has proven that one thing I absolutely don’t do when I’m representing the best that this brand has to offer, is get complacent. Stagnant. That has nothing to do with ‘moving the goalposts’. Thotyssey are the goalposts. I am the goalpost. Because I’m one of the ‘greats’ you’ll be talking about in the next 5 years. Because I’ll take my reign and I’ll actually surpass Natalie’s - somebody has to, and you’ve already had two other chances to do it. You’ve had TWO other opportunities to set that goal. And now, magically, five years later, nostalgia has you feeling like you’re finally ready to commit?

Fuck you.

Champions should be synonymous with killers. Your paper reigns have been nothing short of offensive. Two meek defenses and you clock out. That’s what your ‘proven great history’ tells me. And you fucking know it, or you wouldn’t have tried so hard to cherry pick your opponents. Never before have you scrambled so hard to ENSURE that your future as champion was secured. The LAST thing I remember before going to the hospital after Maggall’s attack AT YOUR COMMAND was the pure, unabashed shock and worry on your face as Rebecca told you, woman to woman, that she fucked Scott Oasis to get a shot at your title before Civil War. Because you couldn’t control that variable. You were outsmarted - again - by Thotyssey, and I didn’t even have to be in the arena to do it. You felt the power coursing through your veins as you stood idly by, ordering your chocolate minions to murder me, watching as they battered my body.. Felt good, right? You felt strong? Powerful? On top of the world? Until we took that power from you within seconds. You were so fucking mad that the sluts had one-upped you again. You cried injustice. You cried racism. You cried integrity. And yet that is the only time integrity has ever mattered to you…

When you were on the brink of becoming a fluke. AGAIN.

That’s all you are. That’s the only legacy you’re going to leave behind. You don’t just get opportunity after opportunity. There were women - it’s me, I’m women - busting their fucking ass on every episode of Odyssey, every pay-per-view, persevering through as many title defenses as you’ve had in your three world title reigns combined, while you got to sit at home on your couch eating fucking bon bons, propping your feet up on your briefcase watching Maury. And don’t act like you ‘earned’ that privilege over five years - you could have capitalized on this LONG ago. Your presence wasn’t even so much as a whisper here once Thotyssey unified. But I bet that’s what got you up, huh? Seeing women who were quickly on the verge of lapping your entire career in a matter of months. Seeing the woman - once again, me - that you said ‘was an old sex worker who barely made it in offshore companies win her first World Title AND Promethean Chamber on the same night while still carrying the Sparks Title like it was a 5th limb in just one year.

You have wanted my head on a stick since the very beginning because I have always been your biggest threat. Don’t you dare say I haven’t. Every single attack, every single plan, every single hospital bill… all by your design. I don’t believe a word of your bullshit when you sit there and talk about your ‘obsession’, or your respect for me, or how I ‘don’t understand’.

Save your fucking sob story.

I don’t need context because from where I’m sitting, all I need to know is that you stole my fucking thunder at Hardcore Havoc. You stole MY World Title that I fought for. You took the easy fucking way out on the woman who would - and will - dethrone you in minutes on your best day. And you dedicated your time and energy not to defending that title with honour, or with integrity like you so crave… But you dedicated your time and energy to ensuring I would not come back for it. You are a fucking coward. You have been walking backwards this entire reign, all because you wanted to watch me fade further and further into the distance. But what you didn’t expect to see was me running full speed up behind you. And eventually we will come face to face. I don’t need to understand anything further than that. I don’t care if it wasn’t personal for you. It was personal for ME. BECAUSE YOU TOOK MY FUCKING CHAMPIONSHIP.

And now, I will MAKE it personal for you.

My vendetta doesn’t simply change because you’ve admitted you were hoping for a different opponent. My vendetta doesn’t change because you wanted Rebecca or The Banshee.

When I am in the middle of that ring, it doesn’t fucking matter what anyone else wants.

Rebecca, Angelina, Liz, Banshee, April… they all wanted to win the Promethean Chamber. They all wanted to become, or remain, the Undisputed Women’s World Champion. But the fucking problem is that I was there too, and I wanted it the most.

And now, what I want the most, is revenge. On you. For my Women’s World Championship. My desire for revenge doesn’t care about your desire for easier opponents. I know you didn’t want me. I’ve known it since you cashed in on me. I’ve accused you of avoiding me many, many times for that reason. All you’ve done is admit it.

You should respect me. Further, you should FEAR me. I’ve had nearly unstoppable momentum inside this ring, and that’s exactly the type of challenger that’s a bad match for you. All of your recent opponents, save for Bex, have had a shaky record in the last few months. Me? All the loss I’ve suffered has been outside the ring. And even THAT did not slow my momentum heading into my number one contender’s match with Skylar. You were BETTING on it, too. You can sit there and act like the belt corrupted you, but you’ve ALWAYS been the type. You were PRAYING that Jeff’s death twisted me up so bad that I wouldn’t be able to compete. You were PRAYING that I’d never leave his bedroom, too distraught to even think about coming after you. You of all people, arguably the most at fault for causing all the chaos that happened before Civil War. You thought you bought yourself some time to sit pretty, knowing that you’d already beaten Rebecca, that you’d barely beaten Skylar, and you could finally take a fucking breath.

No.

I am here.

Hungry.

Violently hungry.

And eager to recoup ALL of my losses.

Honestly, Diantha, you should be thanking Allah that this match at OWA5 is the only revenge I’m seeking. When I win, even then, the score would be FAR from settled. But it’s to prove a point. It’s to show you that you are wrong. Once I have my championship safely back in my grasp, you will cease to exist anymore to me. Once the world watches me expose you, I will forget you. I will mention you in my long, growing list of accolades and you will serve as a notch on my professional bedpost. Now that I have Jeff back, and when I have my championship back, there will be no use for a feud with you. I will have accomplished everything I set out to do since Promethean Chamber. And it will hurt you because you’ll have nothing, and For the Minorities will have nothing, and the lot of you will be once again reduced to cameos and extras and you’ll beg me… You’ll beg me to remember you. To loathe you long after we’ve finished our battle. You’ll beg me to keep your memory safe in MY legacy. But there will be no place for you once I take the throne. You’ll kneel in front of me and I’ll tap my spoon to my teacup thrice and you’ll fall into the sunken place where all your ‘greats’ have gone to rest.

You are not a hero. You are not a savior. You are not a horseman.

You are a delivery woman. A stepping stone. A conduit. A vehicle to transport everything that has been owed to me, physically, symbolically and metaphorically for the last four months. Understand that since I have been in the picture, these things and these things alone have defined your role on Odyssey. Not a soul, other than the lost ones you surround yourself with, considers you the best on this brand. And let’s not forget that each time I’ve been put on the opposite side of the ring as Raivo, DT, Maggall… they have never won. They have never been victorious. I’ve single-handedly bodied Maggall, a man four times my size and width. I’ve stood across from the current OWA Tag Team Champions, For The Minorities, and fought them in a Manchester street fight. I’ve fought all three of them on a cruise ship. Time and time again, Thotline prevails. I prevail. Not a single person in this whole fucking company has posed a threat to me yet, man or woman, Odyssey or Kingdom. What makes you any different?

Not a damn fucking thing. Demons, monsters, and the future star of My 600 lb Life crushing my airways have come and gone. I have never backed away. I have pressed forward. Do YOU know how ‘fucking demented and heartless’ someone has to be to CHOOSE to do this despite literally never needing to?

This wasn’t my dream. Still isn’t. Likely never will be. But I’m fucking here. I could have walked away at any moment. I could have quit whenever I wanted to when shit got really hard. But I CHOSE to STAY. I CHOSE to FIGHT. That is a TRUE testament to what a World Champion SHOULD be.

So don’t you dare tell me that I don’t know what it’s like to choose ‘this life’. When I spent several years being trained by a woman who was born into wrestling, chose to do it, and did it up until the day she died for it. Who HAD no friends or family to rely on. A lone ranger, a criminal, a cold-blooded murderer who needed wrestling injected into her veins almost as much as whatever else she put in there. You wish you could have ever held a candle to her. She’d roll you up and smoke you, then ash you out next to the graveyard of ‘greats’ tiers ahead of the ones you pay homage to.

I couldn’t give a fuck what the championship does to ‘change’ me. You know what did change me, Di? WAR. I lost somebody I loved. I haven’t loved in years. The first person that split me open and made me vulnerable again, made me feel safe, made me feel like I was enough in a world that was constantly telling me I wasn’t. A man that watched me lose everything and still stood by me. Fought beside me. It was fucking unbearable. Every day I woke up in some lukewarm mixture of tears and vomit. I wore his clothes like I didn’t own any of my own. I slept in his bed. I stared at his ceiling until I could have sworn I saw the patterns move. I didn’t eat. Drink. I ran on cigarettes and benzodiazepines.

Yes, I have him back. But it doesn’t change the fact that you made SURE I felt every square inch of that pain with no resolve. You, and Raivo, and DT, and Maggall… You all wanted to see him burn. You made an ALLIANCE WITH THE DEVIL…

JUST TO KEEP MY BELT AWAY FROM ME.

Do you think I’m going to let you walk away from this just because I have Jeff back? Given everything that you’ve done, and everything I’ve countered with at every turn…proving to you every step of the way that I won’t stay the fuck down… Did you really think you were going to walk away from this - from me - without shedding your own blood in return? Whether I have something or someone to mourn, or not, you’ve evidently seen that it changes nothing. I remain focused. I remain vigilant. I remain HUNGRY. Never have I stopped thinking about tearing you apart. Skylar couldn’t stop me. Your payroll couldn’t stop me. The revenge is still mine to take, whether anyone is dead or alive. You will still pay.

As selfish as I am, I’m not just doing this for me. I get to reap the lavish benefits of dethroning you alone, yes, but being the architect of the LaSt PiLlAr’s destruction is for the Thotline’s benefit. You want to invite them all down to ringside to watch? I’ll personally sit down with a glitter gun and decorate all the invitations. Rebecca can get the front row seat because I know how good it will feel for her to watch me decimate you - the woman who called her a ‘fucking fraud’ despite forgetting she doubled your defenses at 4 and main evented Final Destination, unifying two championships when she won. I’ll even set some aside for Raivo, DT, Maggall and that fucking rat Giovante too. It would be the fucking cherry on top to watch their faces as I take their queen, the one and only Diantha “Two-Defense Max” Rosso, Diantha “Two FD Fails” Rosso, and pin her shoulders d i r e c t l y to the mat, hard and firm, not a breath of air could fit between her skin and the canvas, and stare them all directly in the eye while the referee counts 1…2…3.

Confetti will fall from the sky, and it will pool on top of, and around your lifeless body.

I will shed tears, but not because of what I’ve lost. But in celebration of what I’ve won back. And what I will never let go of again.

What I will take with me as I leave New York, parade around the city with the rest of Thotline as we present as one full, cohesive unit.

What I will hold up to Jeff as he holds his World Title up to mine. We solidify our place as OWA’s inevitable power couple.

What I will hold up to Marie as she holds her Goddess Title up to mine. We solidify our place as OWA’s power stable.

We continue what started out as, and what we could not be stopped from being, the most terrifyingly dominant group of wrestlers that this world has ever seen.

You could not have chosen worse people to fuck with, Diantha. Every single gripe each and every one of them have with you for what you and your group of bussy bombers orchestrated the last few months will flow through my body as I become the lone vessel for our collective revenge.”

The Banshee, Darkane, Theodor Pavel, #BeLikeBea, Rebecca Filth, DT The Ruler, Lazarus Arjen and marielacorriveau have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos April 27th 2023, 8:15 pm by **DT The Ruler**

The warning shots are already thrown out.

The moment of reckoning is coming close.

The next OWA Tag Team Championship match is right around the corner.

And I am ready. Though I appear kind of relaxed in questionable fashion, I am as ready as I’ll ever be for the next battle in the ring, the next conflict myself and Mr. Raivo are to embark in our stance as the best Tag Team OWA has ever seen. This match, like any other, can bring the participants involved to crisis, to brutal and depressing loss, and to a reality that even within a contest without sanctions, there may be defined limits to this business for some of those involved.

But I have the leverage to break my opponents the worst.

(In an unknown setting, DT The Ruler is sitting in the back of an all-black Cadillac Escalade, with his hands folded, eyeing the cityscape as he was driven to his next destination)

I’m close to New York City as is; it only takes a few hours to get to Madison Square Garden from Hartford, so I can take my time doing last minute mental preparation. I’m already physically ready for everything this coming Tables, Ladders, and Chairs match entails. I have experienced contests like this before. I’ve experienced contests that are worse on a man’s physical being than this coming one. The main aspect that varies how difficult our next championship match can be is on the participants, and we have some interesting but predictable folks. But I wanted to personally focus on one specific person this time as I make a less conventional stop...

(Within a moments time, the vehicle stopped, and the door was opened for DT The Ruler, who was also greeted by two of his secretaries and three members of his personal security. Eventually, he looked upward and revealed his location)

So Mr. Sena...

Mr. Taniguchi Sena...

Are you upset yet?

Are you angry?

Pissed?

About. Damn. Time.

(DT The Ruler and his associates walked briskly into a furniture store, not very crowded like it normally is, as if it was near closing time. He stood confidently by the entrance for a second and then took their time walking past the cafeteria area and towards the sales floor)

I’m stepping through an IKEA my associates found in New Haven, just looking at the furniture, getting a feel for the modern aesthetic at an affordable price. Normally you can’t film in these places, but money can put you above rules for the general public, so I can throw some chump change at this store’s management and magic happens. Simple colors, perfect shapes to the eye, all coming in matching sets. None of this crap is up my alley, but I know the styles here appeal to those especially of my Seattle Branch. It works for office spaces well. As I mosey through and embark on the IKEA shopping experience because being here is not just about making a purchase, I’ll start with a story giving you a picture into an experience I have as a Professional Wrestler.

(DT The Ruler stopped for a moment and eyed a bedroom set, pointing to it for his secretaries to see and take a few photos of for one of his mistresses)

Currently, a lot of you see a man with well-pressed suits and shined loafers, drinking wine and smoking cigars here and there, regularly amid handling his day-to-day operations from behind a desk. But what you don’t see are my regular moments of analysis of other human beings, male and female. As a CEO and chairman for my own companies and an entrepreneur looking for the next big investment, I want others to understand that I not only train my body and mind early in the morning before handling business in my offices, but I also have to analyze and discern who is talented and who is capable of being such with a push, because one of the things I don’t want to have to do is fire someone on Training Day, wrongly assess certain attributes over others, or just completely miss the boat on someone who has potential to be a great employee. My discernment stretches to the Professional Wrestling ring, as over time, I learned as a Wrestler how to assess who is about that life as a competitor in the ring, a modern-day warrior to respect, fear, or behold as formidable, and who is just out here repeating lines they heard from Gladiator or 300.

I’m getting to my points, don’t worry...

(DT The Ruler then began to walk through the sales floor, continuing to see if anything caught his interest. His secretaries and security were interested in items they saw, by he seemed to care little)

The best wrestlers in this business that better your ability to discern and understand what is legitimate and what is not end up being your rivals, your enemies, people you dream of getting over against, people who test your mettle from bell to bell. For myself, when people knew me as Mr. Opinion, that being was Mr. Carlos Rosso. Currently, you may hear us occasionally shoot the shit against each other about drug use and living the fast life way too fast, throwing subtle jabs against each other, but that’s all in good fun, as we are both fighters, warriors cut from different cloth but will forever desire the same level of challenge in the squared circle. After leaving the Wrestling business, I heard he created a school and began to train many wrestlers. Gender, race, nationality even: none of that mattered. All he wanted to see was the beast within harnessed into the type of unstoppable power he created in himself as the Fighting Tiger and The King of The Roses years before. When I step into the ring and I hear that the person I’m facing was part of his training facility, I expect that energy. I expect that fervor I experienced in the Classic Wrestling Federation, that drama I heard about stomping through Extreme Answers Wrestling, that savage that made every slam and submission hold feel like the Iron Maiden in AWA and LEGION, and similar prowess to seep from the pores of that Professional I’m bound to stand against.

And I thought I saw that coming out of you last year.

Looking at OWA from afar, I look for potential challenges at just being GOOD WRESTLERS. I always want to see that. I always want to experience that. And I always want the chance to stand over it! The people who are not so corrupted to the point that their deviant acts stand as more important than learning a more efficient way to catch people with their favorite and most devastating hold is all I want to see. And I thought I saw that in you, Mr. Sena. You were one of the few normal people I saw within my first few months, a rookie with potential I wanted to see flourish in an environment known for anything but Wrestling. I saw you stand up to Mr. Jack Daito, a piece of forgettable shit, and even in your loss: you impressed. Even in The Clash last year, you impressed. But eventually, you showed you were not a raging dragon trained by a once prideful tiger. I saw Ms. Emmanuelle having to constantly remind you to stop looking at big booty hos and train. I saw a man being hard carried by a woman who doesn't even wrestle here! And even worse: I saw a man then be hard carried by a woman and another man with even less experience than himself! And I say substantially less experience because I know Mr. Carlos Rosso would not dare let half-ready, poorly-trained, content-with-being-mid malcontents graduate from a school known to make nothing but champions of the highest caliber! His school is esteemed by many as everything Harvard pretends to be, as the West Point of this business, and I must say: I am disappointed to experience a graduate come into this business and in less than a year soak in the worst aspects of it! If I must make you angry to have you hit me in a way that’ll make me feel like I’m getting hurt, SO BE IT! I AM TIRED of wasting my resources to travel around and end up fighting a bunch of Holden Tudics! I am sick of the half-ass efforts of a lot of you, especially from a guy who could be good- even great- but decides to be another instance of Ben Simmons! But more importantly: in order to be the best I know I can be once again, I desire to stand over the supposed best in this business. Anyone can select a bunch of tomato cans and punch them for a few minutes just to get easy coochie and fund their vices like low-level boxers do! But the best Professional Wrestlers are known to come out on top of competition that tries! That is why I attribute myself to a lion. Like lions have to fight for territory, for their own survival, and for the right to reproduce: I fight in order to be the alpha of the terrain I decide to put work into ruling, and you don’t become the alpha by strictly fighting betas with nothing to gain from them.

(DT The Ruler continued to pace through the sales floor, and he then noticed something that made him stop and examine it)

Right now I’m pacing by a Lagkapten desk. The one closest to me is a default, clean white; it’s pretty flat looking in design, and if not placed with other furniture designed like it, it’ll look very boring. In this very store, you can look for other furniture to go with it and not make it seem so alone and out of place. However, the tables we’re going to be using against each other, the ones myself and Mr. Raivo plan to throw you through, aren’t attractive anywhere. They’re not meant to be. They are an ugly, unsexy wood design, resembling something you would see in a carpenter’s shop maybe. They invoke impending misery. They are easily assembled upright to inflict pain. Is your rage strong enough to stand against the pain of feeling your spine crash against wood? Will you be able to continue your rampage once you fall through one of these? Will your will keep you strong enough to stand up after falling down this way? So far, Mr. Sena, I have a hard time believing your claim.

(DT The Ruler then continued to another item close by. He picked up the large price tag and looked at it, but was unimpressed and laughed to himself before looking at the camera again and continuing)

Next to me now is a ladder bookcase, a Hyllis shelf unit. Once again, this is a very sleek, modern furniture item. The shelves are thin enough to be somewhat conspicuous but not a complete eyesore. This ladder, however, is not like any ladder that matters to us. The ladders I plan on smashing you, your partner, and the members of the Seventh Ward tandem into are more like the types for those that plan to put in actual work, to fix or repair, to set or reach something at a height normally unachievable by human beings. For months, you struggled to climb the ladder in the Wrestling world, Mr. Sena, even slipping and falling in ways obvious to The Ruler. Are you willing to make noticeable and respectable effort in your climb for once? Is your anger going to encourage you to be something more than Ms. Emmanuelle’s Whipping Boy #1, to step up as the one who wears the pants in your group? So far, Mr. Sena, I have a hard time believing your claim.

(Once he was done cleaning his hands with sanitizer hen received from a member of his security, DT The Ruler walked towards another piece of furniture, but it was a bit farther away. He looked at the price tag and squinted, but then put on his reading glasses to confirm that what he saw was correct)

To this last furniture, this right here is my favorite type of furniture to seek out. It could be the sign I have become a boring adult, but whatever. This here is an office chair; the IKEA people call it the Markus. For what it is, it looks overpriced, but if you ever get the chance to be a CEO who must review paperwork regularly, a good chair goes a long way, especially for a current or former athlete. Once again, the types of chairs allowed in this coming TLC contest are not comfortable. They’re not good for your back. Your head won’t feel good resting against them. They are a cold, unforgiving, unkind variant of steel. There was no love put into assembling them. They are made strictly for utility when nothing else is available for sitting down. Myself and Mr. Raivo are going to be ready to clap not just you, Mr. Sena, but the other degenerates with the types of chairs allowed in that contest. Are you prepared to have your brains possibly scrambled being hit by one of these chairs? Are your back muscles strong enough to withstand a fall or a smack from one of these? Your survival of Mr. Carlos Rosso’s teaching SHOULD make that the default, however as I said twice before: so far, Mr. Sena, I have a hard time believing your claim.

(DT The Ruler then pointed at another set up of items for his secretaries to look at and get pictures of on their phones. He took a few steps out but then decided to try a different type of chair before continuing to speak)

As you said, Mr. Sena, this match is less like a Wrestling Match and more akin to a real fight, and if you are as livid as you claim to be, Mr. Sena: I expect you to fight for not just the sake of your short career but your life. For your sake, you need to adapt a Fight or Flight mentality. You need to adapt in general, but even with more of your rage concentrated in a way that will matter against ME. You see Mr. Raivo... you may hate him as well; you may despise what he stands for and stands as. But one thing you understand very well is that when the time comes, he does what he needs to do AND MORE. You say we both use underhanded tactics to win and then cry about being angry, but your tears don't mean SHIT to us, because we followed by the rules of this environment and got nothing but screwed! But instead of crying and being pushed to the side as a joke duo, we came together, devised a plan, and did something about it, even though people hate that we said “FUCK THIS SHIT” and stood up for ourselves. And here you are with a match that gives you an outlet, one neither of us ever had! AND YOU GET A TITLE CHANCE TO BOOT, one you don’t deserve but you STILL got. An opportunity is right there for you to prove that Mr. Carlos Rosso did not make a mistake in pushing you out. Mr. Carlos Rosso’s training facility is not Mars Hill, so I expect you to not continue to resemble an assembly line Strong Style fangirl. I expect you to come out stronger than the last time you and Mr. Tyler Kulina got dumped on your heads!

You see Mr. Darkane and his partner Mr. King of Rats: I don’t take them seriously. Mr. Raivo flat-out doesn’t respect them. But one thing I understand about both of those unhinged reprobates is that when they say their goal is to inflict suffering, pain, and sorrow, they MEAN IT 100%. This very match gives them as much agency as you in your rage to seek out fulfilling that promise, and especially you and Mr. Tyler Kulina need to be weary of the suffering you may experience. You want to be respected? You want to be champion? You want to be great? You better bring it like you never have! Hate me like Jin was encouraged to by dreamland Kazuya while held prisoner in Tekken 4. Despise me, like Baki hates his father with all his being! Harness every single bit of rage and try us! Try to test that flame in your heart, Mr. Sena.

Because either way, you will still see me as your Master and Ruler just like everyone else.

(The scene fades to black as DT The Ruler reclines in the chair near his secretaries)

The Banshee, Darkane, Theodor Pavel, Elijah Hampton, #BeLikeBea and Felix Hartley have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos April 27th 2023, 7:58 pm by **Tyler Kulina**

OWA 5 Promo #2

“Worth Fighting For”

OWA Promos - Page 6 Coney-island-busy-broadwalk-sunset-260nw-1482818171

Tyler sighed as he and Cassie walked down the boardwalk of Coney Island. Life was happening around them, but his mind was somewhere else. He and Sena were training hard for this match. From the moment he stepped into OWA, the odds were stacked against him. He was soon introduced to another beginner in the business and the two became fast friends. Tyler wanted this team to stay together for as long as possible. He wanted his career to be something of worth. And, he finally wanted to meet the man he came here for face-to-face.

Cassie Wu: Is everything okay?

Tyler Kulina: Yeah, sorry. I’m feeling a little out of it.

Cassie Wu: Uh-huh. Funny considering you was the one that wanted to come out here. Saying how you haven’t been here since you was six.

Tyler blushed and scratched the back of his head. They were both in the same business, but that didn’t mean work should interrupt their date.

Tyler Kulina: As much as don’t want to make things about work-

Cassie Wu: (laughs) you want to talk about work.

Tyler nodded slowly, already feeling guilty.

Tyler Kulina: To put it simply, I’m tired of losing. I feel like Sena and I have been doing this dance for quite some time and it’s getting on my nerves. I know we have the skill and ability to win. But somehow, FTM keeps getting one over us. Somehow they keep getting away with murder and it’s frustrating, Cassie. I’ve dealt with cheating bastards before- hell, I grew up around dudes like DT and Raivo. Manipulators and hustlers who wormed their way into the business world, and loud mouth fools who don’t know when to shut up. But, with Gio and Diantha, they have the numbers to do whatever they want. Now, you can throw Seventh Ward in the mix, and our chances are slimming. Don’t get me wrong, Cass. I still believe in the Dojo Bros, I still believe we’re the ones to win the gold. But, at what cost? Steve, Cloud, and Emmanuelle all told me that to make it to the top, to get to that next level I have to be willing to sacrifice anything and everything. I mean…I had to grow up fast. I understand when you have to be tougher than steel. But I look at what’s been happening this season, and sometimes it feels like we’re in a simulation, you know? It’s feels a little unreal.

Cassie Wu: (laughs) I get where you’re coming from. Things do seem a bit out there, you know? At first I didn’t know what to make of it. But Steph advised me to take things one step at a time. She Said to keep one eye open at all times and ally myself with people I can trust. Dani feels like somebody I can rely on. She feels like someone who has my back, you know? I feel a lot more comfortable nowadays. And that win over Rebecca Brookes? It lifted my spirits. You just have to keep at it you? No matter what kind of shit the universe gives you, just throw it back. As much drama there is in OWA, I’ve also learned more about myself than ever before. I feel that I’m stronger than I’ve ever thought I was. Steph said the same thing. She credits OWA to being a key component during her 2020 mega run. Hell, she didn’t win her first title until five years in the business. No matter the outcome of this match Ty, don’t give up. Never give up.

Tyler nodded his head a few times, considering Cass’ words. She was right in the respect that he couldn’t let his opps win. He and Sena fought too long and too hard for him to just walk away. Emmanuelle always said the Dojo Bros. was a work in progress. She said it would take a while for Sen and Ty to get their due. Heck, they didn’t have a proper theme song until recently. Tyler turned to the lady who was beginning to grow on him in a special way.

Tyler Kulina: Know what, Cass? I have to thank you for reminding me of why I’m here and what I need to do.

Tyler stopped in his steps and touched Cassie’s face who blushed slightly. Everything did feel a bit romantic at the moment, albeit in a cheesy kind of way.

Cassie Wu: Oh so you’re feeling yourself right now, huh? Like some kind of superhero?

Tyler cracked a smile and turned away. She had a knack for making him feel like something – or rather someone he’s never felt like before.

Tyler Kulina: Not there yet, but maybe I’m close?

Cassie nodded a few times as if she was pondering his words. Eventually, their lips touched as they kissed underneath the Atlantic coast sunset.

------

Do you know what I love about this match? How vastly different everyone is from each other. No, seriously. This is probably one of the most diverse matches on the card. We have a Lexington Steele over here who fancies himself a high-powered businessman along with his D1 reject sidekick who can’t fight his own battles. Then we have Mr. Black Parade and the Eddie Vedder cosplayer. Sena and I don’t need a prayer to win the tag team titles. We have our confidence and our strength this isn’t our rodeo with FTM. We know what they're capable of, both legal and otherwise. Men like DT think we’re sitting at home and crossing our fingers, hoping that FTM gets injured or something so we can avoid them. FTM want people to fear them, but that’s so far from the truth. Just because you got desperate when on the verge of defeat by The Queens of Wrestling doesn’t snake you geniuses. It makes you scared of animals that are now backed into a corner. And the most beautiful thing about this? We’re not in California anymore, we’re in my neck of the woods. New York State. Madison Square Garden. Sena and I don’t need God to finish this story. We just need to finish what Cloud and Aria started by taking down FTM once and for. And that unmitigated gall? It’s sheer as fuck.

Karma is what you make of it, and eventually, that fairytale narrative about conquering racism DT and Raivo weaves is going to catch up with them. Because once they lose those belts, there won’t be an excuse. They would have to look at Gio and Diantha in the eyes and look like a couple of failures. You’re not For the Minorities - just for your own pockets. Weaponizing racism and sexism how fucking dear you!? Now after Civil War, you have no real backup. There’s no god, demon, or golden army protecting your best interests. At MSG FTM will not leave as they entered. Their Barbie Dream House will go up in flames, and their dreams deferred permanently. They took advantage of a lacking tag scene, but now we’re here. The Seventh Ward is here. The tag scene is slowly building itself back up again, so thank you for your time FTM, but the Dojo Bros. got it from here.

There is no game being played here, just the reality of FTM’s imminent demise. Diantha Rosso will eventually fall from grace, and the whole squad will become irrelevant. There is nothing oppressive about Scott Oasis’ cash crop. There are only titles to be won, careers to be made, and clowns to beat. Black people don’t need some scamming ass carpet baggers as their representatives. They have queens like Aria Jaxon, role models like Elijah Hampton, so why DT and Raivo? Do they want to see the dog in us? We came into this game as a couple of pound puppies, but we’ve earned our teeth and were trained by the most dangerous masters in the game. We can give two shits about some goddamn kibble- what we want is some fucking gold around our waists! What we want is total fucking victory! We have the audience on our side who see through your fallacies. Like for instance, when you faced us one-on-one, you just couldn’t get a victory without pulling some fastball shit.

For the Minorities haven’t proved shit when it comes to whether or not you’re actually better than us. Sena and I don’t need any of DT’s handouts. All we want is what we’re due which is the OWA Tag Team Championships. Which involves another opposition in the form of Darkane and Laz, aka the Seventh Ward. Invasion from the Blue Brand. While Sena and I appreciate those beating DT and Raivo’s asses, we have a date with Destiny. This is our story, our war, our rivalry. People consider Seventh Ward to be a superteam of sorts, and maybe it’s true. You have Darkane, a multi-time world champion, and Laz and one of the most dangerous men walking this earth. We get it, despite the jokes, they’re not to be trifled with. We’re not going to stand down though, not by any means. We’re very much aware that this is an uphill battle and know what? We welcome the fucking challenge. We’re the underdogs in this match but our bites are bigger than out bark. At TLC anything goes and we don’t expect any special treatment from Olympus’ esteemed guests. We just want to go out and do the damn thing. We just want to give the fight of our lives, the performance of a lifetime.

Then there are those who just want to watch the world burn. Lazarus Arjen is one of those individuals. He claims he has no other aspirations than to maim and hurt whoever he can. I’m sure his partner echoes those sentiments. Maybe his one true goal is to leave a legacy of pain and suffering. Kind of reminds me of myself five years ago…when I was a teenager. Thing about unprovoked violence is that when you grow into a man, you find other ways to deal with that shit…like getting paid for it. Sure, Laz is a signed competitor with a contract that states he can throw hands with any one of others, mostly on Olympus, at the end of the day: what does it accomplish? What does it fulfill? Sure, you can leave a bloody path of broken bones but to what end does it serve? Because when you think you had enough, that your bloodlust has been quenched, the monster inside wants more. It begs and pleads to you from within, a small voice that becomes louder and louder as time passes. And before you know it, you start doing all the bad things you didn’t think you was capable of.

But were you?

It gets to you, right? It starts demanding more and more flesh, sacrifices just to stop hearing the voice from below. I know that voice, Laz. When I used to hate the man who wasn’t there for me, that voice was a loud one. It wanted me to do all the bad things not stop until my opponents was dust. The Dojo Bros didn’t have shit to do with the Great War. We were just as clueless as the next person about what was going down, but right now we know exactly what to do: end the reign of For the Minorities. Seventh Ward won’t be the reapers who claim that legacy – sorry to say. You’ve taken things in your own hands and it was all for naught. The only mark you and Darkane leave will be the attempt at winning those titles. And hey – what an attempt it will be. You guys will give us hell. You will give us pain beyond measure. But guess what? Sen and I will rise to the top. We will climb that ladder and seize the thing we’ve been busting our asses for months to get. Your intension, your focus, you think you know what you want, Laz. But it’s only because you think FTM’s weak. It’s only because you think the Dojo Bros are easy targets. But we’re not. But don’t worry, you’ll see what I mean.

Raivo speaks of history, but the only history I remember is being screwed over constantly. He speaks of adversity, but all I saw was convenience. He talks about the narrative of Frontline, a team that has done nothing but risked its neck for this company- hell the world as a whole. They even saved FTM’s ungrateful behinds, but nah. They won’t tell you that part of the story. They won’t talk about how they plot and scheme with the Golden Dawn on remaking this world in their image. They won’t get into detail about how they allied themselves with two literal demon lords. Like they literally made a deal with the devil. Don’t let his shit-talking distract you from the reality that Raivo is hides behind DT, Gio, and Diantha. He’s a coward in every sense of the word. Raivo claims we have no identity, but he’s the one acting like every stereotype in the book. One minute he’s a Twitter troll, next he’s a TikTok fuckboi. Then, he’s a keyboard warrior. Like pick a struggle my dude! He calls us mid, but at least Sen and I know who the hell we are. We’re allied with Emmy, but she’s done more for us than Gio ever has for either of you. He’s spent the entire time riding you and DT’s coattails to the point that he’s dick riding without a license! Somebody call Black Twitter so ya’ll can investigate ya’ll mans!

You know nothing of character development my dude, because you and DT were always the same grifters you’ll always be. Gio and Diantha aren’t no different and hey, like they say, “birds of a feather flock together”. You keep calling us mid like some parrot, but you’re coming off a little desperate buddy. You’re beginning to sweat, to panic that time might just be up for you and DT. But hey, eventually a clock is right twice a day. We might have been born yesterday, but Sen and I have been up all night. And since we’re making Karate Kid/Cobra Kai jokes, there’s no surrender for the Dojo Bros. We’re just going to strike first, strike hard, and have no mercy for each and every one of you all. But, I do want to thank you and DT for something. You pushed us to this point. Through you we’ve became forged in fire and flame. We are on the cusp of a goddamn tag revolution, and once we’ve dethroned FTM we’ll be leading the OWA tag scene into a new era. An era where the bullshit of FTM and the bloodlust of the Seven Ward are just vestiges of days gone by.

The Dojo Bros are here to stay. No matter how hard the fight is, we’ll stand firm and stay ready.

Darkane, #BeLikeBea, DT The Ruler and Felix Hartley have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos April 27th 2023, 7:52 pm by **"Killer Bee"**

Sena had tried to keep his distance for the rest of the day from the group. He had apologized to the trainee he sparred with. His emotions were getting the better of him for sure, so he did what he usually did when such a thing happened: he trained. Just some pounding on the heavy bag with punches, kicks and forearm strikes. Just to clear his head, just to make sure that the voices of the men looking down on him gave him motivation but not to give him a reason to lose his cool.

Dull thuds and grunts were all that could be heard aside from the music he had blasting.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?”

“Two in the morning or somewhere around that. Why do you ask?”

It wasn’t Emmy or Stephanie or even Tyler that had come to talk to him, but it was Sonya. She had helped him get ready for the BOB Games during Final Destination week, but with her career now in full swing the two rarely met.

“You shouldn’t work yourself to death like that. You need to rest. You’re going to need every ounce of energy in that TLC match that you can muster.”

“I’m going to leave in a little while, I just wanted to get some reps in.”

“I know how you feel.”

Sena looked up, confused for a moment. Sonya was blushing a bit, obviously nervous. She wasn’t accustomed to speaking about emotions and things like that, especially considering that she kept most of her feelings bottled up.

“You’re not afraid of pain, death, anything. But you are afraid of letting people down. You just need to remember that there are two people you should never let down: your tag partner and yourself. Tyler needs you to be focused and ready.”

“I’m ready.”

“Then please, get out of here and go to bed.”

Sena smiled. She didn’t say much, but when she did, it was worth hearing.

The more I hear people talk, the more I wish that they would just stay quiet. I’ve heard the whole gamut of lines about me and Tyler. We’re too small. We’re too weak. We’re too reliant on Emmy for help. We’re obedient bitches because we were patient when asking for our rematch for the World Tag Team Championships, a match that most observers would agree that we deserve considering what happened towards the end.

Also-Rans.

Rookies.

Underdogs.

I think that people here are missing something important when they write me and Tyler off. OWA has a long, strange history of shocking things happening. Underdogs become champions, champions eventually become legends. Previous success, no matter how great and storied the opposition, doesn’t always mean that you’ll win. I mean, if outcomes were certain…there wouldn’t be a need for sports at all.

I have a few examples, major examples, of things coming to pass that most people would have found inconceivable before they happened:

Clash of the Titans 2019. The OWA Women’s Championship was vacated because of an unfortunate injury, leaving the #1 Contender Azumi Goto without an opponent. She wrestled April Song, someone who had beaten her in all their previous singles encounters. Azumi was the underdog. But she left that Arena that night as the Women’s Wrestling Champion of the World.

The Dollhouse were obnoxious and arrogant, but they were formidable tag team champions, setting a standard that teams like us are still chasing. Carlos and Keelan were teammates, but one was turning into a goofball and we all know that my trainer likes to stay high more than actually compete in the ring. But on one crazy night, Carlos and Keelan outsmarted and overpowered that trio and became the World Tag Team Champions.

Look at Stark. Nobody thought that he would come back and beat Jason Long for the World title. He was gone for months, seemingly retired. But, thanks to some help from Thotyssey and FTM being completely preoccupied, Stark took advantage of a golden opportunity and is a World Champion.

Did anybody expect Jeff X to beat Havoc and end his reign of terror as World Champion? No. Did anyone ever believe that Aria Jaxon, as great as she is, could be a man the size of Scott Oasis with his skillset. Not a chance in hell, they said. She was too small.

No one ever thought Devi Krysis would win anything here, all due respect to her, but she’s a former Goddess Champion and a mainstay on Odyssey that is respected.

And ironically enough, FTM sport as their de facto leader one of the greatest underdog success stories in the history of OWA, if not all of wrestling. Diantha is one of the smallest women on the roster. Her career started with a losing streak that lasted for nearly six months. She wasn’t favored to win the Clash of the Titans…but she did. She wasn’t expected to win the Promethean Chamber. But she did. She went from a virtual nobody to one of the most feared wrestlers on the planet. She’s gone down a disgraceful path, but her story is one of the most inspiring things that anyone can look to if they want to succeed.

We are Underdogs, Darkane. We don’t embellish that we are some high and mighty super team of athletes, a fully organized war machine. Honestly, it feels like we’re in the middle of a war between the Soviet Union and Nazi Germany and we’re just Austria or some shit. Everyone knows that you two as individuals are as dangerous and as sick as they come. Everyone knows that DT and Raivo have been ruling the roost, even though they have been playing with a free buy-in since Diantha has been giving them convenient assistance. Some would say that she’s been providing someone in the FTM with “convenient assistance” in another capacity, but I won’t go there.

Growth is not always something that you can see. Sometimes you just have to trust in the process, as cliche as that sounds. Most people don’t arrive here as ballyhooed vets or superstar rookies. The people that come here and make it here that don’t have a big name from other places, they work. People may not notice over time, but eventually the cream rises. Do you think most people at this time last year were talking about Felix Hartley being a future main-event player? Do you think that they gave Myojin the respect that they deserved when they arrived? No. It’s a process.

Me and Tyler are not a finished product. Not by any means, but we’re more than eager and more than ready to take you all on. It’s honestly a bit hilarious we’re even referring to anyone as underdogs now that I think about it. A TLC match doesn’t require that you be the best team, the strongest team, the most dangerous team, or even the best functioning team. All that it requires is that you retrieve belts from fifteen or twenty feet in the air before anyone else. So honestly, all you have to do is be opportunistic.

You and Laz are going on and on and on and on and on and on and on….(takes a deep breath)....and on and on and on and on about cutting people up, chopping them up, eviscerating them in front of us. That’s great. While you two are chopping FTM up, we’ll just get a ladder, one of us will stand guard, the other will get the belts, and after you’re done playing butcher in a meat market we’ll be walking up the ramp as the new World Tag Team Champions!

We are not into moral victories.

We are into turning dreams into reality. We’ve seen it happen far too many times with others here not to believe that we can do it too. That’s part of the OWA legacy that we would be more than happy to honor, to show that if you come to work and are willing to suffer, willing to endure some setbacks, that you can pull off what most would think is impossible. That’s something we’re more than happy to try and live up to.

And I don’t know if it’s old age, CTE, or substance abuse, but Darkane’s memory is a little fuzzy about what happened on that special Kingdom episode. There wasn’t one team standing after you beat the crap out of FTM, there were actually three. The Queens of Wrestling were standing because we helped them up to their feet. We were standing because, you know, we came out there to help them. And you guys were standing, probably luckily so, since you attacked DT and Raivo from behind. Yeah, awesome display of power sneak attacking people. Really a strong way to make a statement.

Great job, guys.

Laz, while we understand that Kingdom has dominated the tag scene for a while, me and Tyler are a little confused. For starters, we’re a little confused as to how you and Darkane haven’t managed to kill each other. I mean, I watch Olympus occasionally and I can say it wasn’t for lack of trying. Did you two just get tired of trying to kill each other and thought you’d be better off teaming together. In some ways, I’m even more confused about you because Darkane, I’m assuming, watched you walk out on one partner already. I don’t know the guy, but if there was someone that I knew would be willing to just walk away from a tag partner, I’d have serious problems with trusting you.

But apparently he doesn’t so….good for him, I guess?

You two bullies- and that’s what you are. You’re not killers. You’re not tough guys. You’re barely wrestlers. You’re two bullies- were so keen on uplifting the tag division, why all the secrecy? Why just show up to a show uninvited when you could have called any team you pleased, including the champions, to come over to Olympus? You wanted the upper hand. You wanted to frighten, to intimidate. I’m sorry to disappoint but I was trained by a cocaine addicted MMA savant so your measures of intimidation are quite limited by comparison.

If my partner’s voice is too shaky for your taste, then hear mine now: We don’t care about who you are, where you come from, or how much you’ve finished second to Elijah Hampton. You came over to Kingdom and made a bad situation worse by simply presenting yourselves. But, in a way, I’m happy that you came. If you two had waited and we had just gotten our rematch with the champions without a third wheel, we’d hear about the Seventh Ward until the end of time. But now, we don’t have to worry about that. We can take out two supposed best teams in one swoop. Save the belts, give them instant legitimacy by beating Kingdom and Olympus affiliated teams, and guys can mope in the shadows about it. Everyone wins! Well, you don’t and FTM don’t, but I don’t think the MSG crowd, the OWA fans at home, and frankly pretty much anyone who respects decency would mind.

Mr Ruler, you seem to be a little more sensitive lately. Don’t tell me people like the Seventh Ward and Carlos Rosso are pushing your buttons now? You’re sitting around because Carlos said a mean joke about you as if you’re above roasting. Dude, you’re basically the Michael Clarke Duncan-portrayed Kingpin in a wrestling ring. You’re entire persona is made to be made fucking fun of. You sit around with your shades and your Rules of Power and Art of War books, waxing philosophical about nothing and everything at the same time. To me, you’re nothing more than a pretentious fraud. That makes you slightly more tolerable than your partner at least because at least you KNOW you’re a fraud and put on airs, but goddamn this has gotten tiresome.

We all know that you’re a gifted athlete. We know that when Raivo’s not bummed out from having Emmanuelle turn his Instagram DMs down, he can wrestle too. But you two and Diantha to a slightly lesser degree believe that you were held down because you’re African-American. You believe that opportunities were withheld because of your race, yeah? Well, I can attest for the people that watch the shows at least, they don’t hate you because you’re African-American. They hate you and FTM because you’re all Asshole-Americans. And we also note that there was no grieving the loss of Jason Long. The guy is dead for all we know but you and the rest of your friends just keep on moving along as if nothing happened. That’s pathetic.

Raivo, the fact that you’re daring to say what you said about my partner really pisses me off. There’s a cliche going around these days: “Finish the story”. For some people, they’d say we’re trying to do that now, The Dojo Bros. We’ve been newbies, keeping our heads down and working towards something big. Everyone’s waiting for the happy ending and all that. But here’s part of the problem: this isn’t a quest to complete the story.

We’re on a quest to begin our dynasty.

We don’t see claiming the World Tag Team Championships as the end for us. Not because we won’t treat them with the respect and integrity that they deserve and demand, but we have far higher ambitions than just being a team. While we have mutual respect and admiration for one another, we want more than just tag gold. We want to become singles stars as well. We want to break through and reach the places that you two have been as singles champions. We want to achieve what Darkane has, minus the grunge music and psychopathic tendencies.

We are working to BEGIN our story, and we’ve come too damn far to turn our backs on one another now. Too many people have donated time, effort, energy, and knowledge into us to just continue to lay out clunkers. I go back to what I was saying before, we’re not the first ones to go through this sort of thing. We’re not even the first fucking tag team to be so lowly thought of that some arrogant opponents want to disappear.

We’re not going to disappear.

We’re going to win those belts. I watched on TV at home in Seattle when Azumi Goto became the women’s World Champion here, completing a journey to becoming Odyssey’s Ace. I watched Jeff X battle almost impossible odds to become champion again and again, even turning away my old mentor in a Spartans Championship classic years ago. And I was a fan in the crowd, sitting up in the nosebleeds, when Diantha won the first of her consecutive Clash of the Titans victories. I looked at the big screen and I saw the emotion on her face. I saw all that pain starting to wash away.

All the doubt, all the people telling you that you can’t, that you’re not good enough, that you’re gonna get slaughtered, that everything that you’re doing is a waste…it washed away. You could see the relief. You could see that the Forgotten Senshi was turning into the Iron Lioness. You could see that greatness was on its way.

And even though Diantha has tarnished her greatness with her association with the League of Extraordinary Assholes, I want to experience that sort of feeling myself. I want nothing more in the world to see Tyler experience that same feeling. That’s the difference between the two of us and the four of you, Donovan, Raivo, Darkane, Lazarus. None of you give a damn about the other one. You can hide behind respectful platitudes and blunt assessments, but you’re all just out for yourselves. There’s no community, there’s no partnership. There’s no heart and there’s damn sure no soul.

That’s not what tag team wrestling is about. Tag team wrestling is about respect, trust, and building something that goes beyond individual accolades. It’s about forming a unit. Tyler and I have been working to get that part down, and all the rest is going to fall into place. And you four aren’t going to believe what happens next, even as it’s happening right in front of you!

So, tell me, all of you, tell Tyler too, that we’re not good enough. Tell us that we’re underdogs or blew our shot once before or that we’re this and we’re that. We don’t care. We have FIVE FUCKING YEARS OF OWA HISTORY TO BACK US UP WHEN WE SAY THAT WE CAN DO THIS! WE HAVE FIVE YEARS OF BLOOD, SWEAT, TEARS AND SORROW, DEATH AND RESURRECTION, ABSOLUTE FUCKERY AND THE DARKEST PITS OF DESPAIR…IT'S ALL THERE FOR YOU TO SEE!

You don’t believe me?

You don’t believe that we’re going to be the next tag team champions of the world? That’s good. We wouldn’t want it easy. Hell, me and Tyler, we do things like wrestle BECAUSE THEY’RE HARD, because they push us to becoming men that even we didn’t believe that we could be until we were pushed.

Do we expect to suffer? Well, yeah. This is wrestling. It’s not going to be fun, and it won’t be pretty. But there is no man walking this earth that I have more trust in to do this than Tyler. I know that if someone’s trying to gut me like a fish, he’s got my back. He knows that if someone’s trying to smack him in the head with a shovel, I’ve got his back.

We’re not scared, boys, we’re prepared. The Dojo Boys are here and ready for the big time, and on the biggest stage in OWA history in the most famous arena in the world, I’m going to take a hell of a lot of pleasure in making you four bozos eat every last fucking word you’ve had to say about us.

Melanie B, Darkane, #BeLikeBea, DT The Ruler and Felix Hartley have spoken. It’s such good shit!

OWA5 PROMO 3 April 27th 2023, 7:29 pm by **Christopher Sabertooth**

I don’t know Chris… I don’t think I am ready to go out yet. I am afraid of facing the world-- I know they’d hate me.

The scene begins as Chris is seen walking towards the main doorway of his luxury apartment, dressed in casual clothing. He’s got the keys to the car in his hand as a timid Hana is reluctant to join him for the travel.

Come on! It will do you good. If normalcy has to settle in, we’ve got to at least pretend to act like it. Fake it till you make it. Besides, why should I get the groceries every time? I could use your company.

Are you sure? What if people run away at the sight of me--

Who cares? Let them run away. There’s enough attention on us already. I would love to be at peace for a change. News Outlets. Old friends. Family members that I don’t even know of. Everybody is reaching out to know how I feel. Shit, I haven’t processed everything myself yet so it’s difficult when everybody’s questioning me like there’s no tomorrow. Sorry-- I went off on a tangent. We’ll be fine! Anyway, you don’t have to face the world all by yourself. I am right here!

Alright…

Hana grabbed her jacket as the couple made it to the elevator. Chris is in a good mood, seeing Hana attempt to break out of the cycle. He understands this is a tough period for Hana and appreciates her making an effort to fight through those emotions.

But Chris’ cheerfulness wasn’t meant to last, as his face turns pale at the sight of what awaited him outside of his apartment complex. A hoard of people gathered outside with cameras, microphones, some TikTok merchants waiting to get their next viral video… It was a mess.

FUUUCK!

I am going back!

NO! If you go back now, they’ll run an article about how you’re still afraid of who you are and what you would do. These paparazzi, fake journalists types do not care about what they write. They’ll run anything if it gets them clicks. Let’s just play it cool. I’ll say we’re in a hurry and respectfully ask them to move out of our way. Okay?

Are you sure you want to do this?

I don’t! But I don’t want to be a shut-in at our home or the apartments. I thought moving into this building where nobody cares about wrestling would be a great fucking idea. But The Frontline had to save the world, didn’t they? I miss being a plain ol’ wrestler. Simpler times. Let’s just go.

Hana nods as the pair with fake smiles plastered across their face push through the doorway and get swarmed around with people shoving microphones and cameras at their faces. It would be a nightmare for those suffering from epilepsy as the camera flash went off all at once. Chris tried to be diplomatic and navigate through the crowd but they wouldn’t budge. There were far too many people to move past.

Chris glances over at Hana’s face, who is very uncomfortable in this public situation. To get done with the situation as soon as possible, Chris raises his hand in the air.

STOP!

The crowd is stunned into near silence as they listen intently to what Chris had to say.

Well, I appreciate you guys coming out here trying to know how we’re doing-- But I would like to get out of here as soon as I can. Judging by your faces, I don’t think you’re taking no for an answer. So, here’s what I am going to do. There are a few ground rules here if you want to get ANYTHING out of me. You do not mention you-know-who to my wife. I don’t want to hear any bullshit questions or allegations thrown at her… I WILL punch you in the face. Wait, y’all would probably like that. No-- I’d sue or something. Whatever makes you not do it. Secondly, don’t talk over each other. Let’s just go one by one. Got it?

The crowd affirmatively responds in unison.

Hey Chris. This is Richard--

No need to make this super formal, please. Let’s just make this quick, eh? Just hit me with the question.

Fair enough. How’s your wife?

What the fuck did I just say two minutes ago?! She’s great. She would be a lot better if we weren’t surrounded by strangers shoving cameras into our faces. Does that answer your question? Next!

Chris! Right here! How does it feel to finally get rid of your -- problems?

What do you think I am going to say? No, I miss him! HEY. Do not clip that out of context. I better not see that shit on TikTok. I feel good. I feel like I can finally be myself again. I feel like the burden on my shoulders has been lifted ever so slightly. The last couple of years were some of the most painful moments in my life. I would much rather move on now and try to be normal again. Though, having all of you standing out here waiting for me to leave my house isn’t exactly my idea of normal. What else you got for me?

I’ve got a question for Hana…

Careful.

Is Chris a good husband?

What?

What are you trying to say here, man?

I--uh I just wanted to know if she feels like you have been a good husband to her.

Hana, you don’t have to answer that. It’s ridiculous--

It’s fine, Chris. I know what he’s trying to do. You’re not going to get the answer you’re looking for. Of course, he’s a good husband. The best possible one. He was willing to sacrifice everything for me. He spent a long time trying to fix my mistakes. Trying to get me back. I put him through hell… Literally. Yet, he never gave up on me. So, yes. He’s a great husband and I am thankful for everything he’s done for me.

That good enough for ya, asshole? Yeah, I thought so. Is anybody else trying to be not as nosy as that guy?

Chris… Is the world now a safe place?

Listen. I know that I’ve been on the Frontline trying to fight these unimaginable beings for the sake of humanity-- But I am not a hero. Far from it. For those who have followed my journey… They know that I am not a saint. I do not pretend to be one. When people tell me that they look up to me-- It’s just a difficult concept for me to grasp because I would NEVER want a role model like me. Why would anybody want to have a life similar to mine? So, when you ask me such loaded questions about the future of this world like I am so hero. If something happens on the opposite side of the world, I can’t just teleport there in a second and fix it. I am human too. In fact, there’s nothing different about all of you gathered here and myself. Whether it be circumstances or just coincidence, I found a group of people that were as dumb as me and were willing to give their lives away just so nobody else has to. Some call it courage-- I call it stupid. But I can’t change how I am wired. That’s why, I am fine doing the dumb shit facing all these insurmountable odds until my luck runs out. I am not special. All of you could have done the same thing I did. Shit, I know if your partner’s life was at risk, you would do it too.

Coming back to your question though-- I hope so. That monster is no longer here with us. But at the same time, we did a lot of risky shit to make it happen. Will that backfire on us? I fucking pray to God it doesn’t. But if it does, Thotline will be there to make things right.

Christopher, I just wanted to know if The Frontline will break apart if the world isn’t at risk any longer.

Why would we do that? Did you quit on your family? I hope not. I do care for the Thotline version of the group but the Frontline boys… Nah. We are for life. We have bonded together in blood. We live and die by each other. That’s how we roll. Frontline is never going to end. They’re my brothers. I love them.

So the match at OWA5 against Arata and Theo doesn’t complicate anything?

Oh! We’ve got a pot stirrer here. You’re clever! Going back to the point that they’re family to me. Have you ever disagreed with your family? Ever fought with your siblings over the stupidest of things? This isn’t any different. At the end of the day, we’re all wrestlers. It’s our profession of choice. We know what it entails. I can’t go the rest of my career without facing them in a match! They’re some of the best to ever do it. Of course, I want to face them! I want to know how I fare against the very best. This match is just that. An opportunity to stake your claim as the best in OWA’s history. The Clash of the Titans match just adds so much more credibility to one’s career. It’s the toughest match to win. One misstep and you’re out of there! It’s a lot less forgiving. But it’s something I have never done. Having that win under my belt would mean EVERYTHING to me. It’d be the biggest win in my career. And despite all the success I have had, I just don’t think I’ve done enough. Maybe I am crazy to think that but that’s how I see it. I can’t take credit for something I wasn’t fully involved with. I want to win the big one by myself.

Arata and Theo are in the same boat. Each of them has very good reasons for wanting this Clash win. The same goes for Jeff and Mike in their match for the world title. If we could share, I would love to. But there’s only one winner and I really want that to be me. We’re all mature adults here. I am going to hug it out with the boys no matter who wins. But I’d much rather be the winner than the loser.

Chris, how do you feel about Theo blaming you for the biggest dry spell in his young career? Your brother did you dirty.

I heard about that. I also heard about how beating him somehow put Arata Asakura in the conversation of being the best in the world. You guys have to remember, he’s younger than the rest of us. He’s got heart! But beating him doesn’t make anybody the best in the world. It was a hyperbole! If beating him meant that much, we’d have plenty of people in contention to be the best in the world. Havoc. Arata. Mike. The list is longer than you’d want it to be… I am just pulling his leg! It did hurt to hear about him blaming me though. I don’t want to be responsible for holding back my brother. I eliminated a guy that he hates. You’re not getting the gossip. You won’t hear no names outta me. But I eliminated a lot of people. I was damn near at the finish stretch but that dastardly Jacob Senn got the better of me for an instant. I was glad to see Mike kick his ass out.

I know that Theo went through a tough time but I was right beside him for the ride. My life couldn’t have been any worse. So, even if I did kick the legs underneath him, I jumped down to the bottom and sat right beside him. But now we’re back up and kicking our lives into the next gear. I am more than ready to be a wrestler again. I am ready to win championships. Yes, plural. I don’t like being a dreamer but I’ve got some lofty expectations of my own to live up to. That’s what drives me every day. I want to become THE champion. Theo will have to wait, but luckily age isn’t that much of an issue for him. Our bodies are beat up but I’ve been doing this shit for longer. I don’t know how much is left in the tank. But I am not trying to end my career as a washed-up version of myself that can’t win matches to save his life-- I want people to have hour-long discussions about when my prime started and ended. There shouldn’t be a clear distinction. I always strive to be the best. And if I ever retire or die in the ring… Sorry Hana-- I want to be the best to ever do it.

And the fact that it’s a reachable goal for me-- I am grateful for it. Not everybody gets that chance.

Like who? Moongoose McQueen?

He’s a Hall of Famer!

A pity inductee.

AND a former OWA World Champion. You’re tripping! Moongoose has always over-delivered throughout his career. Let him get his dues when he deserves it. And don’t forget, he played a key factor in helping us save this world on countless occasions. See, I am allowed to be disrespectful to Goose because it’s a competition at the end of the day. I can bring up the fact that his career had a very well-defined three-four month peak. But some people never hit it, like Maggall. Goose deserves his spot in the Hall of Fame. He deserves the recognition. Unlike me, Jeff, Mike, Arata, Darkane, Senn-- Goose really isn’t brought in the conversion of the best. Even now I think he’s underrated. People took him for granted because he acted a certain way and said some dumb shit from time to time. But that man could fight! It’s just a shame that he couldn’t maintain his form and stay at the top. If only people would have seen how good he was back in the earlier days of his career. He was treated like a joke so he kept being put in situations where he acted like one. Thankfully, his career resurgence came right before his retirement. Got his last hurrah. And now he gets a fat paycheck to be on the 5th-anniversary show. Good for him! I am really happy for Goose!

That sounded very condescending.

That wasn’t my intention! I love Goose! It’s just that he already over-delivered with his career compared to what everybody thought it would be. There’s nothing left for him to prove. It’s quite the opposite of my situation, isn’t it? For me, I still have so much more to give to the world of wrestling. I really need this chance. It will be good for my career and also my life in general. I need a reset button after everything I went through and I am sure Hana could reiterate the same.

Hi, this is Sarah. I’ve got a question.

Sure… That’s what we’ve been doing here. Hit me.

Why do you have to fat shame Maggall?

… Because he’s fat as fuck. That motherfucker says it himself! He’s a big fucking dude! It’s not meant to be insulting. I am a scrawny little white boy compared to him. I get it! His size is his biggest and only strength. But it can only take him so far. The dude is a joke. He just does everything for a publicity stunt. That man forgets about the Quran whenever Ramadan comes around. He went back to eating non-Halal chicken. Is there nothing holy to that man?! Gluttony is a sin, you know. He threatened to eat us heading into this match! Don’t be a bother, Sarah. Go pay your fucking bills. The rent is due-- Find a real job! Journalism isn’t for you. I am over this. Is anybody else left to go? Can I leave now?

Chris. Chris. One last question.

Fine. Last one. What is it?

If the Lakers don’t win the chip this year, how would it affect LeBron’s legacy?

… Why are you asking me this?

Oh, sorry. I read the wrong question! If you fail to win the Clash and the OWA World Championship-- Is it the end of your legendary career? And what does being dead feel like?

Wow. That second question is dark as hell. I am going to skip that one. As for my career? I am not the type to quit just because I couldn’t win the big one. I will keep trying. It’s just that life is unpredictable so I don’t want to leave it up to fate. I want to take matters into my hands and shape my destiny. The name Christopher Sabertooth will be remembered for many things. Being the best in the fucking world is at the top of that list. And I can’t do that without the OWA World Championship.

But-- I am not going to get ahead of myself. There’s a difficult challenge ahead of me. Choosing my entry to the Clash and the Outlaw Championship. They are simply the starting point of this upcoming journey. There’s a long and arduous road ahead. People said that I could never break free from Havoc’s control. They doubted my chances of saving Hana. I beat those odds. That’s what I do. No matter who stands in front of me, I have a clear end goal in mind. Hana can attest to it-- But it gets bad. I get obsessed with it and do everything in my power to make it happen. That’s what I will do.

With that, thank you all. We’ll be getting the hell outta here. Please, for the love of God, don’t show up here again. You got your material! Write your articles. Link me the TikToks. And if you put anything I said out of context, I will sue you!... I am kidding!

He's not.

Melanie B, Theodor Pavel, Hana Nakajima, #BeLikeBea and Felix Hartley have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos April 27th 2023, 5:18 pm by **Darkane**

♪♪ Start spreadin' the news, I'm leavin' today.
I want to be a part of it.
New York, New York.
These vagabond shoes are longing to stray.
Right through the very heart of it.
New York, New York. ♪♪

NYC was a madhouse this night, as was every night. Everything was in constant motion and full speed ahead ‘round the clock. It looked like a bunch of ants scattering up and down from a bird’s eye view. It’s what NYC was famous for. If you didn’t keep your head on a swivel it would be taken off in the blink of an eye and nobody would notice. Even if you minded your own business, kept to yourself and operated on your own watch, you were susceptible to random muggings in broad daylight and nobody would bat an eyelash. Everyone was far too preoccupied with themselves. A society built on self absorption to a level that was sickening. There was this turn the other cheek mentality which led to a high crime rate, cold blooded murderers and serial rapists walking the streets as free men. Gangs controlled certain territories with their guns cocked at the ready. It was a society in ruin, a society that was the very opposite of what it meant to be a community.

That sense of a peer-to-peer, help your neighbor connection died a long time ago.

At street level it was dusty and grainy like old film footage, everywhere you went it was jam packed with shady characters lurking in the shadows - on edge and ready to strike at a moment’s notice. Inside of a long grimy alley way at the far end stood a circle of hobos encompassing a barrel fire. One of them had a long unkempt Santa-like smokey blue/gray beard. Bundled up next to him was a hawk faced drug peddler, antsy and paranoid as if a meteor was about to strike the earth and he had no other alternative than to warn everybody about it.

Most of them seemed content but even they wanted nothing to with the soulless deadbeat at the mouth of the alley. Toting a beefy cigar which was rare for Darkane as he leaned up against the brick exterior. His matted hair slumped down past his shoulder blades. The orange huge from the cigar glow lit up his surroundings. He seemed calm, albeit stoic, poised with a shit eating grin on his face and a tiny doll he pulled out of a trash bag in his hand which he held up in the air.

“Point on the doll where Darkane hurt you, DT.”

He for the first time in a long time let out a maniacal and wicked cackle. He whipped the doll against the opposite alley wall.

“If I had a dime for every vein that just popped out of DT’s head I’d have Elon Musk be my bellhop. For a man that claims to be extremely poised and in his element more often than not, I don’t think I've ever witnessed someone unravel quicker than this shitbag.

WHY SO SERIOUS?!

What happened? A few days ago I was just Laz’s lowly tag partner keeping his head down and dragging his feet. Now I’m public enemy number one. You sit your ass back on your luxurious desk chair and blow that cigar, acting invincible as a substitute for rage, like nothing happened, even though inside you are a swirling maelstrom of pure hatred. When one domino tips over, all the others go right along with it. You’re not impervious, you’re not bulletproof, and you lie to yourself incessantly. You’re not able to come to terms with your true emotions. Not able to accept the cold hard truth when it pimp hands you across the fucking face. This wasn’t ever gonna go smoothly, you open up and make strange ad hominem attacks about my lifestyle yet when the tables are flipped over, I turn up the heat when you’re called out on your shit? OHHHHHHHHHHHHH HE’S POLITICKING! HE’S POLITICKING! OH POOR ME, POOR FTM, POOR THIS, POOR THAT. Get off your high horse you ultra defensive twat, where’s your lion’s heart? What’s that old saying, if you can’t take the heat, then get out of the kitchen? I couldn’t think of anything more apropos. Nobody has ever properly challenged your position as a tyrannical ‘ruler’ and the minute I do you set off the sirens. I knew you’d pull that shit, I knew I’d get ‘negative press’ within the DT confines, but I honestly don’t give a fuck. I call it how I see it. I’ve been held at gunpoint for saying much more vile and heinous things during my heyday when I was running around aimlessly in the big easy, but now I gotta walk on eggshells?

Now I gotta tone it down to your level?

What’s that? Lukewarm?

Fuck that shit.

I’m not gonna be delicate, I’m not gonna beat around the bush, when you put your hand in the fire, you’re gonna get burned DT. That’s the name of the game. The Tag Team Championships are at stake. We’re going for the jugular of FTM and The Dojo Bros. You wanna twist this shit around to fit your ‘politicking’ narrative, then that’s your problem. To me it’s a bunch of negligible hog wash you use to paint me as the ‘edgelord’ bad guy. You’re trying to point fingers and pull out of left field bullshit to simply make matters worse. It’s what you do. It’s how you roll. It’s your M.O, you can’t help yourself. Raivo is guilty of it too. You stand on your soapbox with a bull horn in hand and chastise anybody and everybody because you’re bitchmade and looking for infamy. You’re like 2Pac, all eyez on me, except you’re not hunched over with a bullet in your heart on East Flamingo. Instead you’re gonna be face down with a shovel fucking imprint on the back of your dome. We’re going to marinate our nasty dirty fungus ridden feet in your fucking guts and book to Olympus with The Tag Team Championships because THAT is what we’re here for, not for your overdone rallying cries, not to bow down and willfully kiss your toes. Expecting such is so far-fetched and delusional it’s a wonder nobody has put you in your place yet. That’s where The Seventh Ward comes in. No frills, no added bells or whistles. Just tables, ladders, chairs, shovels and unmatched brutality kicking down your door. The Seventh Ward will be doing a service to OWA and by extension Kingdom by supplanting FTM and flushing their contentious bullshit that everyone on Kingdom has had to deal with for months down the drain.

We don’t want you to shut up and dribble, you aint Lebron James, you ain't the King, you’re not even close. You couldn’t hold his jock. That’s just a bunch of off target propaganda and live bait to get us ‘into trouble’. That’s playing right into your hands, when instead you’ve already been playing into ours. Both of you are walking controversies and drama queens. I’m gonna shoot from the hip here and say we both know what you want Laz and I to do. You’re trying to lead a horse not to water, but to the flames. You want us to slip up and say something that toes the line so you can jump on it like a pack of fucking jackals. You say you know our game, well we’re right on top of your tactics. Your guilt traps are completely transparent and see through. I’ve heard better sales pitches from a sketchy low rent car dealer, the fact that you have to stoop to that shit makes you look extremely weak and we reek of desperation? Please.

Take a look in the mirror.

You’ll find the answers you're looking for.

Since you’re so constantly inquisitive because you’re so tense, uptight and thin skinned despite your dominant personality. I wish you could look through the scope of my eyes and see what I see. The foundation that DT is built on slowly disintegrating piece by fucking piece. You ask why so serious? I ask you why I shouldn't be? Take all the tongue and cheek potshots about our cleanliness at your peril, I just wonder when you’re so dainty about personal hygiene, how are you gonna react when you’re drenched in your own fucking blood? How are you going to react when our filthy paws get our hands on your championship titles and take them away from you? You have a lot more pressing matters to worry about than hygiene. The bottom line is The Seventh Ward pays no mind to gratuitous gestures like dollar bills being flashed in our face, dripping with sarcasm and degradation. If we wanted a steady cash flow for shampoo and body wash we’d be panhandling outside of a fucking Walgreens, we’d be beggars not choosers. But now in the position we are in, a position which we have earned just as much as The Dojo Bros have ‘earned’ their opportunity, we only crave one thing and you know exactly what that is. I wouldn’t allocate clout chasing to attacking you from behind either. It’s more akin to championship chasing. We don’t pride ourselves on fame through acts of desperation and pandering to a certain group. I don’t see how sneak attacks and calling our shots, and making an impactful statement to all of OWA is clout chasing. This isn’t a fucking popularity contest, we don’t care if we are loved or we are loathed. We don’t care that we’re not positive influences and/or direct beneficiaries because of said influence. While FTM’s oppression and victim cards is their fucking meal ticket.

Raivo, you absolutely do speak to hear yourself talk and when you vomit forth generic and nonsensical diatribes that sound so fucking contrived it makes you look like a dipshit . There’s a stark contrast between being egotistical and being confident in your abilities. Labeling yourself as perfect isn’t going to ruffle anyone's feathers, it’s just gonna dig yourself into a deeper hole when The Seventh Ward rips the heart out of FTM. The ideation of being perfect and the subsequent downfall when you’re proved otherwise is fucking pure gold. Fucks like you always eat shit in the end. It's a tale as old as time. It’s been witnessed in this industry over and over again. You’re no fucking different than any of the other bold-faced, I’m the greatest thing since sliced bread wannabe clownshows I’ve dealt with over the years. Yet I’m the “times new roman” Bishop? Dude you’re just a bargain bin Chris Elite. I can and have cut overzealous try-hards like you who are too big for their boots down in my sleep, without even waking up to piss in the middle of the night. That’s the harsh lesson you and DT will learn, you boast about nobody being able to shut you up, yet who was lying on the stage, not knowing what the fuck hit them at Kingdom 100?

Who was left standing in the middle of that stage at Kingdom 100 with the Tag Team Championships glossing in our hands?

Sure as hell wasn’t FTM.

Sure as hell wasn’t The Dojo Bros.

It was The Seventh Ward.

Make no mistake about it. We’re not The Frontline. There’s only two of us competing against you in the Seventh Ward. That’s all we need. A full scale great war isn’t required. We’re an army on our own. We’re not like any unit you have faced before in the sense that we don’t care what happens to you in the short or long term. We seek and we fucking destroy. It’s pretty black and white when you think about it, but it’s a mentality that has paid dividends. Do you know how many lives we’ve ruined, how many casualties we’ve caused? And you wanna really make this a pissing contest? I could harp back on the murderer’s row of names Laz and I have devastated and left in our wake in our time. The list goes on and fucking on. It’s to the point where it’s like beating a dead horse. Raivo talks a lot of shit because he can get away with it, it’s not because he’s uncheckable or impeccable. He has DT, Diantha and Maggot in his back pocket and he gets a hard on whenever he shouts at the top of his lungs even though it’s not resonating with anybody whatsoever. That’s a fixture of Raivo, everything he does he expects to sizzle but it’s equivalent to all foam and no fucking beer. And when we corner you, we’re not gonna let our guard down for anyone or anything. We’re not going to be distracted, we’re going to finish the job with no strings attached. We're going to make sure you have no excuses to wave your fucking picket signs or spread misinformation or start shit you can’t fucking finish. We're going to make this authentic, Raivo. We are going to turn FTM against each other and do what others have failed to do and that's make you crack at the seams, it’s only a matter of time. You can try and commit your grand heists, you can try and call in the calvary but it won‘t matter. We will be ready for all comers. You can bring the rest of your stupid ass motley crew out there if you want, but we will fucking annihilate them too. Come one, come all I say, just so you can further embarrass yourself on OWA’s biggest stage. We will keep you down not due to oppression but because we were the better team and that's what it comes down to. FTM has had their time in the sun; they've basked in the glow for far too long without any actual pressure on them, it is about time they know where they rank against a couple of certified madmen.

Intimidation is only a small part of it, Sena, you and Ty can pull up your big boy pants, draw your swords, and train under Emmy to your heart’s content but it’s futile. The moments have proved to be too big for you. Is that what The Dojo Bros want to be remembered for? Coming up small? Because as far as The Seventh Ward is concerned, the best accomplishment The Dojo Bros could get is a moral victory participation trophy in this match and you’d still piss yourselves silly trying to get that. Oh but Darkane! A few months have passed, we’re changed men! We’re more ready than we’ve ever been! I don’t see shit Sena. I don’t see the growth. I don’t see anything in you or Ty to differentiate from three months ago. Unlike you we haven’t been “waiting” to get our hands on DT. We decided to flip the fucking switch and we beat FTM down like red-headed step children. What’s stopping us from doing the same to two baby faced twat waffles?

Absolutely nothing.

You both are the underdogs, don’t fool yourselves. Nobody expects you to pull a rabbit out of a hat and attain victory, but that still won’t stop us from crushing your lofty aspirations into smithereens. In a way we admire your heart, your grit, your determination but it’s gonna fall fucking flat on its face. You’re a feel good story, a heartwarming story, but you’re not THE story. While you're courageous, while you might put up a good fight, while you’re living in a fantasy land holding up those tag team championships for all the world to see.

Realize that WE don’t give a shit about any of it.

We don’t care if you’re starstruck or not. We don’t care how long you’ve been waiting in fucking line like obedient bitch boys. We just hijacked the front of it and you can try to keep up. You can try to use whatever you learned in your dojo but the only thing you’ll be saying to us after we butcher you up into meaty blocks and shoot you down into the grave with the flick of our blades?

Save us Emmy!

Because that’s where a couple of men will turn into a couple of boys, that’s when you’ll call for mommy, call for daddy, call for Emmy dearest, pray to a non-existent God, call for whoever the fuck else is on speed dial. It won’t matter.

You can try to rip through us like a cyclone.

But we’re the ones that are the fucking storm.”

Darkane jams the rest of his cigar out on the brick exterior, the smile reappearing on his face, humming the tune of “New York, New York” as he snaps his fingers and turns the corner.

♪♪ I want to wake up.
In a city that never sleeps.
And find I'm king of the hill.
Top of the heap. ♪♪

Diantha Rosso, Elijah Hampton, #BeLikeBea, Rebecca Filth, DT The Ruler, Lazarus Arjen and Felix Hartley have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos April 27th 2023, 3:02 pm by **Arata Asakura**

OWA5 #3: Dreadful Experience.

26.04.2023 Osaka, Japan

*Time of peace is something that didn't really exist for Arata. Just surviving the war did not guarantee that he and his relatives would be able to enjoy life carelessly. Especially since it will take them a very long time to heal their wounds. For many months, they will still struggle with the nightmares that fill their heads every night. None of them will fall asleep peacefully, without the fear that even then they will not be able to count on a moment of rest. This was especially the case for Arata, who not only suffered in his dimension, but here as well. Both physically and mentally, the man was incredibly hurt. Although, did he have the right to complain about it, since he had freely come into this world and decided to fight? He had no intention of doing so. After all, he knew what awaited him here, so he saw no point in making himself a victim. However, what affected him the most was the influence that Gaijin Killer had left on this world. The mark of that man' sins, that he was carrying on his shoulders, sometimes brought him to his knees. Although some people accepted the new Arata, one thing was certain, no one trusted him one hundred percent. Everyone kept their distance, even if they didn't want to show it. As much as the man understood, it hurt him. He and the Gaijin Killer were like two very different people who just had the same face. While the whole world looked at them as one unit. This terrified Arata the most, because he was aware of what was hidden in the dark mind of Gaijin Killer. Or so he thought.*

"Arata-san! Arata-san!" The female voice didn't reach his ears at all, until she grabbed his shoulder "Arata-san!"

*Arata looked at an annoyed Hana, who was sitting next to him. The man rubbed his face with his hands, trying to break out of his momentary numbness.*

"I'm sorry, Hana, it's not that I'm not interested in what you say. It's just that...something has been bothering me since morning, and I'm trying to sort it out."

*Hana raised an eyebrow slightly, waiting for him to proceed with further explanation. However, Arata remained silent, so the girl had no choice.*

"Aren't you going to tell me what it is?"

*Arata smiled slightly at her and shook his head. Then he added in a calm tone of voice, though he was no longer making eye contact with her.*

"I know you don't feel very comfortable with everything that happened to you lately. I don't want to burden you with my bullshit. Especially since, I know my brain is just playing dirty games with me. I'll be fine, don't worry. "

*The man had good intentions towards Hana, but she took it a bit differently. She slapped him hard on the back of the head with her open hand.*

"Yes, I am not feeling well and I probably won't be for long, but don't treat me like I am a reject. You help me with my issues and I can do the same for you. So I'll ask again, what happened?"

"Well, you could say I had a dream...I guess. While it was quite bizarre and impossible, it felt strangely realistic. To the point that I feel a shiver run down my spine. Because you see, I met the Gaijin Killer in my 'nightmare', or rather, I was the one observing him. Even though he couldn't see me, I could have a close look at his movements and hear every word he said. A nightmare like any other, caused by the pressure...but what was strange was...he was talking as if he were in my place. He spoke as if he had never died and I had not appeared in this dimension. Let me visualize it for you a bit..."

***

*Complete darkness took over a place that turned out to be a dungeon. Although nothing could be seen at first, the sounds coming from it signaled that there was a low water level on the ground. What only confirmed this belief was that I could hear a characteristic noise, when someone was taking steps towards me. The sound was getting louder and louder, until f torches ignited on the walls. In that way, giving enough light for me to see HIM. He was wearing a black T-shirt, black ripped pants, and a golden watch on his wrist. On his forearms, I saw two words written in kanji. Creation and destruction. But what really gave me a hard time was the look on his face. I should have felt like I was looking in a mirror, but I couldn't do it. I sensed something was wrong. I was convinced that the person standing in front couldn't be me. Even though he looked identical. Coldness and the stench of death emanated from him. While his golden empty eyes were like a harbinger of the apocalypse. At first I thought he was coming my way, but when we were almost face to face, he walked past and sat on a rock, after setting up the camera in front of him. I tried to talk to him, but I don't think he heard a single word. Though, I also took the option that he ignored me. But what disturbed me the most were his words. He spoke of everything that happened in a completely different light. As if I didn't exist, he talked like he was ready to fight in my match at OWA5. I felt like I was in some alternate world.*

Fear is something that slowly has taken root in your head. Even when you believe that the moment of peace has finally come, anxiety keeps wandering somewhere behind your back. Even though you're trying to live a normal life, every time you hear the name...Arata Asakura..it makes you shiver down your spine. But why? In the end, you thought you had defeated me. After all, you got your happy ending, when you resurrected Bishop and big bad Arata didn't get what he wanted. You thought it was over when my Golden Dawn was kicked out of this company and fully restricted. However, it was like the calm before the storm, you can be sure of that, you stupid filth. Yes, I was gone for a moment. I've been lurking into darkness like some goddamn monster for the past few months, but that doesn't mean I'm done with you. Our story will be only done when I decide that, you understand? Even if my temporary disappearance gave you a sense of safety, don't forget one thing. You are the pawns in my game, not the other way around. You follow the steps I suggest to you, thinking it's your own decisions. But you will notice that, when I crush you with all my might. Don't forget that I am always the one who has the last laugh. And when I am done with you, you will have no choice but to fall on your knees and beg for mercy, but we all know how it ends. I will wipe you and your stupid country, because you are nothing more than privileged filth. You don't deserve to live in a better world, on top of which I will stand with the Emperor's crown.

I'm back at the perfect fucking time. I show up, the moment when you're all crushed by the stigma of war, but happy to finally catch your breath. After all that terrifying experience, I'm back to show you that Havoc has never been your biggest concern. I'm in tha ring again to finish what he couldn't, and make your life hell on earth. And I will start that process by defeating you at OWA5 to remind you, who is running things around.

You couldn't be more disappointed, could you, Theo? Once again, you have a great chance to shine...The selection of Clash of the Titans' spot and Outlaw Championship are on the line. Again you're so close to making the statement, you've been waiting so long for. You have the perfect opportunity to show all these people that you're not some stupid lost kid, who depends on everyone. And unfortunately, once again, I stand in your fucking way. And you know what, kiddo? I will be the one who will make sure that these people were never wrong about you. You know who you are, Theo? You're just a spoiled brat who had everything served on a silver platter. You're just a fool who needs to be babysitted by an entire fucking team. Without them? You can do absolutely nothing but cry that someone is messing up your plans. Oh, poor Theo...I am so sorry you wasted every title shot at the World Championship you had. But let's get one thing clear. It always ended up this way, because you don't have the balls to run this company. You don't have what it takes to break through the glass ceiling. You're even afraid to risk it to do it, for fear that if something goes wrong, you'll hang under it. You're just a coward and crybaby, Theo. Having such a pitiful attitude, you should be ashamed to even call yourself a wrestler. Not to mention that you should pay more attention to your words. I understand your obsession for getting that one win against me, because you just couldn't handle my outstanding persona every time we faced each other. But you must be quite a narcissist to say that your incompetence is something that makes me look like I'm stronger. So let me explain something to you, you stupid brat. I don't need to whoop your ass to make these people look at me like I am the best in the world. Because I am the best japanese wrestler of all time. I am at the absolute top of this industry. So shut the fuck up, and do not talk to me like we're equal. The difference between us is so big that you will never be able to catch up with me. My advantage over you is so dominant, that the thought of having to deal with you again, makes me bored, kid. That's why, it's even more sad to see you desperately trying to keep up with someone, who is a thousand steps ahead of you...while you can't even take one on your own.

What's up with you, Chris? Glad to be able to play happy family again with the woman whose life you ruined? Are you satisfied to see what a human wreck your sweet little Hana is? Because I want to throw up, when I look at how pathetic she became because of you. I really can't believe she was stupid enough to make such a mistake and get married to such a selfish scum. However, it didn't take long for the consequences to show up and prove that I was right from the start. I told her that hanging around with you would lead her straight to hell. Still, this idiot persisted, and how did it end for her? She is left with a psyche shattered into pieces. But you're probably happy with this turn of events, aren't you? After all, you could play the role of a brave prince, who saved his princess from trouble. It's so romantic, it makes me want to puke. But what a maniac do you have to be to risk your wife's life, just to enjoy the label of a hero? Do you stupid Americans really have no respect for the life of another human being? Although, it is probably a stupid question, looking at the fact that we are talking about the citizens of the country...where people are just looking for excuses to play the role of god. You're just waiting for someone to make a mistake and come onto your property to put a bullet in someone's head. That's why, I don't think anything surprises me anymore in this sick mentality of yours. But it is funny you were the first one to judge me, Chris. You were pointing fingers at me for controlling other people's fate so carelessly. While you played with your own woman's feelings and well-being without remorses. But I'm the one who should do humanity a favor and kill myself? Oh, you fucking wish, gaijin. I'm not going to hell unless I take you with me.

Do you love her at all, Chris? Because if that was the case, you'd rather be at home supporting her, than just focusing on yourself once again. Oh, you want to win the clash from the number one spot. How fucking lovely. When you are in the ring for an hour or two paying attention only to the tip of your own nose, she will have enough time to shoot herself in the head. But it is fine, you will just have a new excuse to make yourself look like a victim. That's what you fucking love.

I don't know what made you think we could be on the same side, Maggal, but you couldn't be more wrong. You and I...We're not the same. Not even in the slightest. Listen, I have completely different priorities, and points of view than you. I am looking at society, trying to solve a very difficult problem, while you are only focused on your own ego. I try to change this fucking world to give people a hope. I want the chances to be given, where they should be. All i want is to get what i fucking deserve. Whereas you, Maggall, you only demand without giving anything from yourself. In fact, your attitude is no different from all those crackers, you despise so much. you really have that fucking inner karen in you. And you can't tell me, I am wrong. The truth is, you don't want to be treated fairly, Maggall. You don't want to be properly paid for the effort you put into this business. What you want is to have the privilege of getting what you want without lifting a finger. And honestly? I despise that approach, Maggall. It is very pathetic. Especially when you use minorities’ problems as an excuse for your laziness and incompetence. You believed you are being smart here, but you can't fool anyone, you fat fuck. We all know you do nothing, except bitching and looking at those hentai magazines in the locker room. So what the fuck do you expect? A Main Event for being absolutely useless? Oh, please, be realistic at least for once.

At first, I wasn't even going to talk about Moongoose McQueen. Why? Because I just think this, 'thing'...cause you can't even call him human...is a humiliation for the wrestling world. He is nothing more, but a fucking clown. And I truly hate people, who can't be serious even for a second, and I know I'm not the only one who feels this way. When you think of someone holding a title, you imagine seriousness, stability, and responsibility. No wonder Moongoose was not even allowed into the title picture for many years of his career, Because him eventually winning something would, make the company look like a fucking joke. Come on, get mad at me, but I don't give a fuck. You can't take someone seriously if they don't treat themselves that way. We're neither in elementary school, nor in the circus to tolerate your childish behavior. And honestly I was glad when you were in a coma. Your dumb mouth shut at least for a moment. However, this silence was so beautiful, that it was obvious that it would not last forever.

Although, It's been a while since you last set foot in this ring, you haven't changed at all. You are the same stupid clown who will forever be remembered as the greatest embarrassment of OWA. Even if they gave you this Hall of Fame ring for sucking them up for way too long.

Honestly, I couldn't care less about the Outlaw Championship. I am not into tertiary championships, but unfortunately I need it. After all, I have an interest in joining the ranks of the Grand Slam Champions. So let's just say, I can sacrifice myself and put that shitty belt around my waist. However, what interests me the most is spot selection for Clash. And now you probably think that my choice is obvious. You assume that what evil incarnate wants is the final number, that will easily get me to the Main event of Final Destination. But you know what? I would actually love to be the first one to set foot in the ring, just to give you a taste of my new reign of terror, when I am the last man standing. I want you to live in fear that I will become OWA World Champion one more time.

*After these words, I woke up more confused than ever before.*

Melanie B, Christopher Sabertooth, Theodor Pavel and #BeLikeBea have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos April 27th 2023, 12:44 pm by **Theodor Pavel**

OWA 5 - Promo #2

“Opportunity Knocks”

It was a long night for the Hands of Ice. A wonderful conversation led to room service for dinner and breakfast. It was a new day in Miami, though. Soon enough, Theodor Pavel would find himself on a collision course with four OWA superstars to determine what number he would draw for the Clash of the Titans. It was an opportunity. Exciting? Maybe. Deserved? Probably not in the eyes of the casual viewers. So be it.

With the brand new day starting out, Theodor found himself taking a jog through downtown Miami. Not quite the ‘Rocky’ scene where people would chase after him and try to run with the Hands Of Ice, but a simple and more private approach. That was the beauty of not being a household name in professional wrestling. Then again, how often would a professional wrestler be one of them? Be real for a minute.

Upon reaching the end of his journey, he found himself at a gas station. Exhausted by the heat more than the exercise, Theodor grabbed a bottle of gatorade and simply approached the cashier. With his eyes focused on pulling cash out of his wallet, he heard something.

“I think that’s him.”

“No, it isn’t. It can’t be.”

“I’m dead serious. Dude, I see him on TV all the time! Dude, go up and ask him.”

Upon paying for his drink, Theodor prepared himself mentally to be bombarded by a couple people. Maybe they were fans of his wrestling. Maybe they saw him in that BUG Wireless commercial. Oh, one could hope that they didn’t.. As he made his way over to the door, he heard a rather insulting line.

“Hey YOU!”

(Dick move..)

He stopped in his tracks, turning toward the jerk who decided to call him out.

“What?”

“You’re Dick Van Dyke!! Dude, I am such a huge fan!!”

Theodor’s frustration took a turn for the better as the two gentlemen approached an elderly man sitting on a bench. They didn’t even know Theodor Pavel existed. Sometimes, it was the best medicine. Thank you, Dick. Pavel laughed to himself as he walked outside of the station, taking a drink from his gatorade while glancing down at his phone. An interesting proposal from the Miami Herald. A man named Duane Winterland. What kind of name was that for someone in Miami? Fair game. Theodor responded positively to the request, stating that he would be open to meet with Mr. Winterland after returning to the hotel and getting ready. Winterland.. Fucking Hell..

1pm EST - Conference Room - St. Regis Bal Harbor

Mr. Winterland found himself seated across from Theodor Pavel. Not the normal set up for an interview, but a quiet place inside of the massive hotel. Theodor, sporting a black and white U Cluj t-shirt and blue jeans, sat back in comfort with a bottle of water in his hand. Mr. Winterland seemed to be a little more on the nervous side, adjusting the notebook several times to take down some notes prior to turning on the recorder.

“Mr. Pavel, I really appreciate you taking the time to meet up with me on such short notice. Obviously, I know you’re a busy man with everything going on in OWA, but I really appreciate you being so open to talk to me.”

“You’re welcome. Let’s get started, I have an early dinner and a flight that I need to catch.”

Something about Theodor felt different. The nervous, impatient Hands of Ice that so many knew was replaced by a relaxed and confident version of the Romanian star. After taking a swig of water out of the bottle, he looked over at Mr. Winterland.

“Absolutely! I don’t want to waste any of your day so let’s get this rolling. A lot of people know you as one of the OWA’s young stars, easily one of the most intriguing competitors in the industry today. When people come up to you and immediately recognize you for the wild things you’ve been involved in over the last three years, what perception do you think they get? Is there pressure on you to maintain a wholesome image or what goes into your thought process?”

Huh? Theodor cocked his head at the reporter in confusion. Intriguing? According to who, he thought. It didn’t take long for Theodor to come up with an answer though.

“I don’t think there is a wholesome image. People have seen me nearly die so many times that I’ve lost count. I don’t see myself as somebody of any intrigue in wrestling because I don’t hide anything from the fans. I don’t hide things from my brothers in the Frontline and I certainly wouldn’t hide it from people very close to me outside of wrestling. Also, I’m not immediately recognized. I’m not Jeff or Bishop. People see them and immediately know who they are. I’ve been a background guy the entire time, which is fair. That worked for the time, but I know that won’t be forever. I had two men at the gas station freak out when they saw an old man who looked like Dick Van Dyke. They saw me and didn’t think anything of it, I found it funny. To put me on the same tier as Chris Sabertooth or Arata Asakura when it comes to name value, that is a full lie. I’m not famous.”

“You have to think at some point though, you will become somebody like them. Getting hounded by people left and right and demanding your attention just to sign a shirt or take a picture with you. I know a lot of wrestlers who wish to be in your position though, they don’t like to be bothered by the fans. As you’re heading into your Five Way Match at OWA’s 5th Anniversary show, do the prospects of the future make you think differently when it comes to the outcome of the match?”

Where was this guy going with this? Trying to say Theodor wanted to be famous?

“I mean..People want their privacy, don’t they? I like going home and spending time with my family. I don’t want people coming up to me or my daughter and bothering us. Everybody in this match, well, maybe two of them..They might have to deal with that crap on a nightly basis. I like my private life, but the problem with being on that hidden side is that you don’t make the money from it. You don’t get the respect from the people backstage like you would if you had the OWA World Heavyweight Championship. This match at OWA 5 isn’t going to be the end of the world if I don’t win. If anything, it’s going to be a small advantage. Now, that advantage is huge for so many, including me. The ability to pick my number to enter the Clash, I would love that. If I don’t win this one, I’ll have to rely on the randomized number that I would come out with.”

“I’m wondering though, what if this match is the only way you can get into the Clash? There’s no guarantee that you’ll be in it, right?”

Mr. Winterland made an interesting observation. There might still be a chance for Theodor to not make it into the Clash at all, right?

“No, I don’t see it. Practically everybody on the OWA roster winds up in this match. People not even in OWA wind up in this match. There was this man with earrings who called himself Jesus, he was there last year. He smelled like chorizo. To answer your question one hundred percent, yes I will be in the Clash this year. This is my third one and I’ve gotten to the point where I will be in this no matter what. Even if Scott Oasis wakes up with a bad disease that causes him to wish me dead, I will be in that match.”

“Given your history in OWA, people look at Sabertooth and Asakura as the runaway favorites to win this match. Both of them have been former OWA World Champions and have main evented Final Destination. Do you see this as a golden opportunity to put them in their place, despite both men being part of the Frontline?”

“I’ve said it in the past, both men are a big deal. They’ve been successful in multiple companies. They carry a lot of popularity that I don’t have. To call them Frontline, okay. I guess they are, but when I’m in the ring with them at OWA 5, they will not be Frontline to me. Nothing against them, I would gladly shake their hand but I will not use a group or a common cause to weaken myself again. I can’t do that to myself anymore. Wars cost me a lot of things, but I need to focus on the things I still have. What I do have is a career in OWA for now. Will it last forever? No. It won’t. Eventually one will go, either I’ll leave or they’ll leave me. It won’t be any time soon, I believe.

While we’re talking about those two, though.. Chris Sabertooth and I have been down a very long road. I know he’s been a star in Wrestleworld and other places, but he has never been THAT much better than me in the ring. I’ve been wrestling for three years with two companies. I didn’t travel the world like he did, so he should be millions of miles ahead of me. He isn’t. He may be better, but it’s just by a little bit. I even defeated him in my rookie year. The man was the OWA World Heavyweight Champion and I pinned him in the middle of the ring. Things have changed. We both have changed and I know I’ve gotten better in there, maybe he has too. I have no idea and that’s why we’re going to fight it out like we did before the War. He knows in the back of his mind, though, that he could be getting a View of the Lights.

Asakura, he’s been a curse to me in the ring. Every time I get in there with the guy, he’s always been on the ropes. He’s always been within a second of being defeated, yet something always seems to get in the way. My desire to be the bigger man and help him against the Ashes of the Wake. His daughter, who I still think rides every corner of Osaka, interfered in another one. My temper got the best of me the final time. Every single time, something has stopped me from defeating him. Is that his fault? Two of those times, no. When it counted, yes. Being in there with him once again, it’ll be different. Yeah, I know he’s changed. I know he’s not God or whatever, he’s a man. A tough, hard hitting, technically great man. Men can be defeated. Gods can even be defeated, but I know I can defeat Arata Asakura. Somehow, I will find a way. We moved past the sins of the man and onto a competitive ground. That ground is where I need to be right now. No mind games, just two men fighting with their hearts and brains.

That’s how big this match is, in reality. He has something to gain just like everyone else. I have so much to gain from winning this match. The only thing that will stop me from defeating Asakura or Sabertooth is myself. I need to channel the guy that my family needs. The Frontline won’t implode, but the ring might.”

Another drink taken from the bottle of water and Theodor was relaxing again. It was those little pieces of intensity that were beginning to show through the image everyone knew. He was composed, but able to strike on a moment’s notice. Would he find that moment, though? That was the big question that nobody had asked yet.

“Two of those competitors in the match, you’ve already spoken about them and it seems that you’re done messing around with them. What about Maggall? A lot of people, including those who are betting on this match, have immediately written this guy off. Why do people write off Maggall so much? He’s huge and frightening with his athleticism. Do you think that he could be some kind of challenge at OWA 5? He certainly has the reason to want to take you out since you kicked him in the head during a tag team warfare months ago?”

“Right, and that’s also the last time I was inside of the ring to compete. He has a problem with me. I don’t mind somebody hating me in the ring, but he doesn’t get it. The man was on the wrong side. He wanted to eliminate humanity, he knows that. He bet on the wrong team and he’s still pissed off about it. Does that mean that he’s going to win the match? I’ve said to people that he has no chance and that’s still what I feel. I do consider him to be somebody who wants to do damage though. He always looks for people to surround so he can get his free cheap shots in rather than fighting on his own like a wrestler should. He always needs to go into groups and pretend to be the tough guy. Here’s the truth.. I don’t pretend. I don’t even like raising my voice at somebody but that entire locker room knows that if I’m pissed off, there isn’t a soul in this company that won’t get the shit kicked out of them. Maggall included.

He’ll get into the ring out of anger and he’ll hit his hardest. Problem with that, he just won’t be able to hit hard enough. One punch and the man would be tired. Two punches and he’s looking for an oxygen tank. Three punches and he’ll regret the decision to get into the ring with Sabertooth, Asakura, or myself. A bad decision, Maggall. I know he’ll make one and he’ll hopefully regret it. Just don’t hide behind DT The Ruler next time you want to talk shit.”

The fire was very real in Theodor. Something, or someone for that matter, had really gotten him to believe that there was something bigger on the horizon for him. Wonder who came up with that.

“Now we’re onto our last person in the match. He’s an OWA Hall of Famer and former OWA World Champion in his own right. Mongoose Mcqueen. He’s the odd man in this match, considering he hasn’t been wrestling in OWA in quite some time. Still, you have to consider that this guy might be wanting to take out any momentum you have going forward. What are your thoughts on people coming back from a long time away and returning to OWA?”

“Have you seen the wrestlers now?”

“In fact, I have.”

“Do you think we need Mongoose here?”

“He has star power.”

With a slight smile on his face, Theodor shook his head. A chuckle almost escaped as he took another drink.

“Star power. We spent an entire season outside of the United States, selling out arenas and stadiums the entire time. Do you know who the Champions were during that time? Michael Bishop, Elijah Hampton, Diantha Rosso. There were more but if we needed this star power so much, why didn’t they come for an international tour? We didn’t need Mongoose.. In fact, I don’t even know who that guy is. I probably ran into him in catering in the past, still no idea who he is. That whole thing about these people coming back, having a ‘dream match’, losing and then magically getting title shots and all that. I had less than ten matches in all of season four, and now I have to sit in the back and watch old people try and drag themselves back into the ring? I know this isn’t the wholesome guy everyone wants, but I’m tired of waiting. I’m not waiting to become the OWA World Champion. If that’s not going to happen, fine. It’s a belt. A main event of Final Destination, though.. That’s what I want. I want the world to finally see that I’m not the guy who WATCHES people become stars. I want to become one myself, and that’s how I have to do it. Win this match, get a good number in the Clash that I get to pick, win the thing and THEN go onto Final Destination. No matter where it is, people will watch and I will make sure that every single doubter that has pegged me as a loser.. They’re going to eat those words.

Mongoose McQueen, okay..fine. He’s in the match. I hope he fights better than what I’m expecting because it isn’t much. I’m expecting myself to be the best that I can possibly be in this sport. I can’t be the best if I’m sitting on my ass like these guys have been doing for years now. No, I have to show everybody what I can do and EARN my place. Not come back after years of obscurity to try and be a star again. No. I’ve been dealing with too much of this personal bullshit and wars to continue being a failure as a professional wrestler. I was brought to America to be a professional wrestler, not a soldier. That just came with the territory.

I’m done. No more of this sitting in the passenger seat, I won’t do it anymore. If people want to beat me so badly in the ring, great. DO IT IN THE RING. Actually get in there and fight me, rather than bullshitting everyone. Step up, Mongoose. Step up Maggall. I already know what Sabe and Asakura will do, but I know it means nothing if I don’t beat you guys too.”

Springing up from his chair, Theodor glared at Mr. Winterland. The poor reporter stood up and looked at the Hands Of Ice, who promptly shook his hand with intensity.

“Thank you for your time. I NEEDED that.”

And just like that, Theodor Pavel was back. Who was going to stand in his path?

#BeLikeBea and DT The Ruler have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos April 27th 2023, 2:00 am by **Muhammad/Maggall**

Like that coon Stephen A. Smith, I'm here to tell you right now!

......

.......

........

I will not allow Theodore Pavel to win this match!

Yeah I hate Christopher Sabertooth, his lovey dovey nonsense turns my massive stomach. Yeah I when is he going to knock up Hana already and both of them take parental leave so we're at least rid of them for a few months????! But I got bigger problems to focus on.

I hate this fake Arata Asakura who wears the face of a once great fighter for his people. He keeps talking, but I don't if I believe anything he says. I don't know why you all eat up what he says when we have no way to prove it. He could say his universe He could say his universe had the itty bitty asian ladies have the finest biggest asses. He could say white women didn't have the iciest hearts and weren't the face of karenism in his dimension. Man could even tell you that humans live on Jupiter and yall would just assume he's telling the truth, because there's no way to disprove or prove his word from a galaxy far far away. I don't about this man! But I know one thing....

Pavel, he betrayed me. There has to be consequences for people who step into the ring with others as partners and then decide to turn on them.

A man does what he signs up for. I don't like you people. I don't like coming out here to talk to you. But I signed up to fight For The Minorities. I signed up to do what it takes to pick my Clash spot and push our agenda. So if I have to take this dumb ass Outlaw Championship that was thrown away by the woman Pavel had some weird obsession with, I'll do that too. Because I'm a man who does what he signs up for!

But that piece of trash Pavel is not. Pavel, you will crumble!

....and oh yeah fuck that Moongoose guy too, I think he laid the ground work for people like Jeff coming back, or was that Kenny, or both, whatever. I don't even know what a moongoose is. McQueen sounds tasty though, like Dairy Queen or some shit.

But Pavel still main target, still going to get ate up first and most thoroughly.

Theodor Pavel, #BeLikeBea and DT The Ruler have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos April 26th 2023, 7:11 pm by **"Killer Bee"**

“Yes…there you go! Keep at it, keep at it! You’re doing great, Sena!”

The training never stopped for Sena. Under Emmy’s watchful eye, he was sparring with a young trainee Emmy had taken under her wing to help him with fine-tuning his moveset. At this moment in time, Sena was mounted onto the taller, heavier but far less experienced opposition. He was trying to apply a choke to finish him off, but the young man was resisting, even accidentally poking him with a thumb to the eye. Sena was already on edge. He still remembered the humiliation of being beaten by FTM twice. Every time he went to training, the voice of DT rattled in his head. The man didn’t even see him as a threat or anything close to an equal. All he saw was a child. An inconvenience. And it had motivated Sena to push even harder.

“And…..that’s time!”

It pushed him beyond his breaking point. As the time for the sparring session was called, he had started smashing the trainee with forearm strikes to the face. Emmy looked towards Sonya, her former bodyguard who came by to offer a little extra support, with a horrified expression on her face. Sena was in another dimension, landing forearm after forearm.

After forearm.

After forearm.

After forearm.

He had snapped. The sharpness of the strikes had formed a nasty gash over the trainee’s right eye. The two women worked quickly. Emmy sprang into the ring instantly and tried to pry him off. Sonya, almost Sena’s equal in size anyway, managed to pull him off and try to calm him down.

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!? DON’T YOU KNOW WHAT SPARRING IS!? YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO TRY TO FUCKING KILL SOMEONE!?”

Sena managed to pry himself away from Sonya and storm out of the ring. Stephanie and Tyler were off to the side, talking about something as they came around to see what the commotion was. Sena strode by them without saying a word as Emmy marched on past them to catch up, holding up her hand asking them not to intervene.

“I got it.”

Sena didn’t even bother showering, just taking a towel and wiping the blood off of his arms and face and tossing it away before grabbing his bag.

“What’s that about? You’re mad?”

“No, I just busted open some guy I don’t even know for fun.”

“Sarcasm isn’t helping.”

“Neither is you asking questions you already know the answer to.”

Getting irritated, Emmy stepped up to the taller man.

“You want to fight? I’m here. We can fight. Nobody has to know anything else about it. We can just square up. What’s got your panties in a bunch, huh? You know, Sena, I’ve tried to not go this route with you but right now you’re forcing my hand: You’re acting like an entitled little bitch!”

Sena scoffed, dropping his bag and folding his arms over his chest, a grin forming over his features.

“The rich girl is calling me entitled?”

“YOU THINK PEOPLE OWE YOU THINGS BECAUSE YOU’RE TRAINING HARD. NEWS FLASH, DIPSHIT, EVERYONE TRAINS HARD! This isn’t some Sunday indy fed where fatasses marks roll around on cheap moldy rings for fun! This is hard, and it’s supposed to be hard! You’re making it EVEN HARDER though. When’s the last time you had a fucking conversation with Tyler that I didn’t initiate!? When’s the last time you tried to work on something extra with him? When’s the last time you told Stephanie, a fucking legend who has enough gold on her resume to last you ten lifetimes, thank you for helping us out. EVERYONE IS SICK OF YOU ACTING LIKE A STUCK UP LITTLE SHIT BECAUSE YOU’RE MAD! THERE WAS NO NEED FOR YOU TO HURT THAT KID LIKE THAT! NOT A GODDAMN ONE!”

Sena’s demeanor started to change drastically as Emmy dressed him down. He suddenly started to realize how selfish he had been, how arrogantly he was behaving to people that were his friends and trainers.

“I already know who and what you’re thinking about. You’ve got anger. Nah, you’ve got boiling rage right now. And that’s good, because you’re honestly going to need it. The Seventh Ward isn’t a joke and even though we know you can beat them, FTM aren’t easy outs. You can have all that toughness, all that physicality, but you have to control your emotions. Do you remember what happened at Hardcore Havoc?”

“Huh?”

“The ladder match. Marie vs Diantha.”

“Oh, the one where Diantha retained her briefcase?”

“Yes. Marie had her dead to rights. Diantha was bloodied and beaten down. All she had to do was reach up and grab the briefcase and most of the shit that’s been happening around here never comes to pass. Marie let her emotions get the better of her. Sena, listen to me, I get it. You’re hurt. You’re angry. You want revenge. Hell, you want to beat up anyone that looks at you funny. But learn from the mistakes of others and listen….you cannot let your emotions control you. You and Tyler are probably going to get ONE really crystal clear opportunity to win this match, that’s if you’re lucky. You can’t go off doing some Marie Cowgirl Bullshit just because you want to settle scores. Do you understand what I’m telling you? Don’t cheat Tyler out of something special just because you have a hard-on for satisfying your ego.”

“..........Is the guy I was sparring with okay?”

“He will be. Sonya’s tending to him so he’s going to be fine. At least he’s got a pretty nurse.”

“Emmy…I need to get away.”

“Get away? The fuck are you talking about, we’re in the middle of a camp here!”

“Just a day. Just to get my shit together.”

“Alright. You apologize to that guy before you go. And for fuck sake talk to Tyler.”

People think that ladder matches require some insane athleticism or daredevil mentality. It’s simple enough, though. Just beat up someone until they can’t intervene when you go to grab that title. There are a lot of brutal matches, but this one tests everything. Your pain threshold. Your patience. Your teamwork in the case of a tag team affair. There’s so many elements that come into play besides being tough and strong, right? And now, I’m starting to understand that.

To put it bluntly, I’m fucking tired. I’ve tried to be the nice, smiling young lion. I’ve tried to just patiently wait for an opportunity to come my way and…to be blunt, that’s one of the biggest mistakes of my career. I’ve sat around in catering for months, wrestled a fucking monkey on Television in a handicap match, and have had nothing of real value to do since we were screwed out of the World Tag Team Championships by “The Ruler” and his running buddy. The wrestling world has had to stand around with straight faces while those two and Diantha Rosso masquerade as champions.

And I’ve had enough. More than enough, actually.

Losing that title match didn’t make me sad. It didn’t disappoint me. It only proceeded to piss me off. And the more I think about it, the more that thought stews in my mind, it just makes me angrier and angrier. We had you. On the ropes. Beaten.

AND YOU GOT LET OFF THE HOOK!

A part of me wants to blame Emmy for trying to help us and getting attacked by the woman with the helmet we now know is Diantha, but that would be a disservice to her. She’s tried her best with training us and has tried everything that she could to channel Tyler’s ambition and my rage into a cohesive fighting machine. The fact that Tyler and I haven’t killed each other yet probably means that her training is working to some degree.

Every time that we’ve gone against FTM in singles or tag team action, it has indeed gone badly for us. A lot of that is because of cheap tricks and utter bullshit that we couldn’t control. Now….all that bullshit that we couldn’t control is legal. That means we can do it too. That means that I don’t have to keep the kid gloves on and play the squeaky clean good boy anymore. THAT MEANS I CAN DO WHATEVER THE FUCK I WANT TO ANY OF YOUR FOUR BASTARDS WHO GET IN MY WAY! WE CAN USE TABLES! CHAIRS! LADDERS! ANYTHING ELSE THAT WE CAN THINK OF! There’s nothing that you two “champions” can hide behind anymore to save you. And there’s no amount of Critical Race Theory that you can use to excuse your failure once those tag team titles are taken away and on Tyler and I’s shoulders.

DT, Donovan, Alleged Ruler, whatever you want to go by….I’m growing tired of your insults. You have compared us to dogs. Maybe I don’t have that “dawg” in me, but something much stronger that you should be concerned about: A Dragon’s Rage. Every morning I wake up and I think about what happened every time we’ve gone face to face. How you look down on me, how you look at me as less of a man. Well, I appreciate the offer of protein bars, but I’m good. I broke into the wrestling business knowing I was pretty small. I wasn’t gonna get any bigger and there weren’t gonna be any magical growth spurts by the time I started having matches. I could have just gone to some mom and pomp indy fed and become a Junior Heavyweight Ace, but I came here to prove my worth as a wrestler…and I’m going to prove it. So save the bars for yourself…you’re going to need them to accelerate your body’s recovery time after I headbutt you in your fucking nose and break your ugly, condescending, hideous face.

Raivo. I’m getting more and more annoyed with your voice by the second. What exactly are we appropriating? Tyler is a wrestler, born and bred fighter and not pretending to be Japanese or Chinese or anything of the sort. He is who he is. And me? I was born in America, but my family is as Japanese as it can get. My family can trace its lineage on both sides back to the early Edo Period, hundreds of years ago. As for the challenges that we underwent, they weren’t to entertain us or instill some Wax On, Wax Off bullshit. The challenges were for us to grow as a team and that’s what we’ve done. Are we a perfect unit? No. But we don’t have to be perfect to win this match. We don’t have to be great. All we have to do is be able to climb up a ladder and retrieve the belts that should be ours already before you or the Seventh Ward can.

Raivo, my friend you seem to have it real in for Emmy. What is it that makes you so mad that you’re fixated on her, huh? Did you slide in the DMs and she turned ya down? Are you mad that she’s actually holding a World Championship somewhere and has promotions left and right begging her to join to give them credibility? Are you mad that Diantha won’t give you the time of day either and you have to transfer your aggression onto another woman because you’re too much of an incel to do anything else? Let me know what it is so we can help you with that. As far as her training goes, I see someone who has been successful and won championships the world over, someone experienced in wrestling many different styles. She’s not using us for exposure, if anything she’s been more than kind with her time. And honestly, it’s high time me and Tyler pay it forward and justify all the time that she’s spent helping us. Every time you insult her for no reason but to make your ego look big because you have a super-heavyweight goon for a partner and a sexually frustrated Lioness sticking her nose into your business to act as insurance…it just tells me that you’re getting scared.

Playing poker, you learn to read people. You can tell who is full of bullshit and who has the goods very quickly. You two? You don’t. And you know that.

But the Champions aren’t the only team involved in this, are they? There’s another team who has decided to escape the relative isolation of Olympus and reach out towards the tag team division because they have nothing else better to do. The Seventh Ward. I honestly hadn’t really kept tabs on them until that incident where they beat the shit out of the champions. Honestly I found that more funny than scary. Raivo and Donovan deserved a thorough ass kicking and you two gave it to them and then some. It was actually a fun watch.

Unsurprisingly to me, the insults came. Darkane, I want you to understand that we don’t wear any capes. We are not just some underdog story waiting to strike it big and secure the biggest win of our lives. We are a hungry tag team, just as you are. We want to breathe a new life into the Tag Division of OWA, which definitely deserves more honorable champions than the pieces of shit clinging to them like coils of shit stuck in a toilet bowl after a bowel movement. I’m aware of who you are and what you’re capable of. In fact, one of the most disturbing and brutal things that I’ve ever seen done was what you did to Gareth Cason in OWA a long time ago. I know what lengths you will go to get where you want to go. I know of all the people you’ve left in your wake on Olympus and elsewhere in the wrestling world.

And I don’t give a shit about any of it.

Ignorant? I am. Inexperienced, you bet. But there’s something to be said of not giving a single fuck about what you’ve done and what you’re threatening to do to me. You see, a lot of people like you, they have a mystique and aura around them that terrifies before the match begins. You’ll find no such intimidation taking hold of the Dojo Bros. We’re not here to be starstruck by degenerates from Olympus, descending on high to save a tag division that they didn’t give a fuck about until they lost ThunderBastard. We’ve been here trying to get this division rolling. We’ve waited for weeks and months for other teams to show their faces while we waited for a return match with DT and Raivo….and you motherfuckers were hanging out on Olympus, doing whatever it is psychotic assholes do over there.

We’d have gladly faced you before any time, anywhere. And we’ll be more than glad to do it now.

Lazarus, let me make something very clear to you: If I had fear of being hurt, maimed or killed, I wouldn’t have bothered training to become a wrestler. That’s our lives. That’s what we do. Our lives are nothing but a series of torturous bouts, limited rest, and neverending pain. And I love every bit of it. You and your partner Darkane have made it very clear that you believe that we are out of our depth, nothing more than foolish children struggling to live in a world of men. A few months ago, there would have been truth to that. But now? We’re ready, and we’re not going to wait or stand aside or cower in fear as someone else takes what we know should already be ours. We’re going to fight you. We’re going to give you every bit of resistance we have in our fucking bodies.

Guess what?

You may cause us a lot of pain. You may cut us, break bones, leave scars, make us have horrible memories that haunt our nightmares here and there. But there’s something I want you and our opponents to understand, boys: WE ARE LEAVING THE WORLD’S MOST FAMOUS ARENA WITH THE OWA WORLD TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIPS!

There are far too many people who have invested their time in me. Emmy, Carlos, Tyler, Sonya, Cassie….We can’t let this pass us by. We watched what happened to Jeff and Sabertooth. We saw the hell they had to go through while you two, DT and Raivo, won an absolute travesty of a match to become their successors….and we’ve watched them do that while the Seventh Ward was lurking in the shadows, simply allowing it to happen while their thumbs were up their asses on Olympus.

I have been pacing back and forth like a wild animal, training nonstop hoping for this opportunity to present itself and now it has in the most awesome way possible. Because when we leave with the tag team championships, there won’t be any excuses for our detractors to throw at us. We’ll have gone through the most dangerous team that OWA has ever seen formed as well as the reigning champions. With blood, wood and iron, we will build a new Tag Team division from the bottom up and make these belts the beacon of light they should be….and not the vanity trinkets of a political agenda, or the playthings of demented psychotic pieces of garbage.

The four of you have only come to this division to suck up notoriety and sadistic pleasure because you couldn’t do much more in the singles division. Tyler and I have just started careers and made this our focus. It means far more to us than you two. Do you understand what I’m telling you? If you don’t you will when the Dojo Boys rip through you like a fucking cyclone, retrieve those belts like Mario and Luigi capturing the flag off Bowser’s Castle.

The belts are staying on Kingdom…but they will have new owners, bastards.

Michael Bishop, Theodor Pavel, #BeLikeBea and DT The Ruler have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos April 26th 2023, 6:22 pm by **Theodor Pavel**

OWA 5 - Promo #1
“Life After War”

“Fear kills more people than death.” - George S. Patton

A little quote that he heard on his flight to Miami. Four hours of uninterrupted frustration. It was all that Theodor Pavel needed, surprisingly. Within an hour of checking into the St. Regis Bal Harbor, he sat in solitude with a bottle of Killian’s Irish Red in his hand. His eyes locked on the bottle, not having moved in twenty minutes. He wasn’t even sure if he was breathing at this point. Not from the alcohol, but from his own doubts.

Last time he was in the ring, he made an easy choice. Kick Maggall when he least expected it. Not because of Maggall solely, but the war. Being part of the Frontline was not an easy task. One can’t avoid taking the work home with them. Yet, there he was. While his attention was focused on the half empty bottle, he heard the hotel room door open. His focus wasn’t to be stopped, not for anyone.

“Theo?”

His eyes slowly shifted from the bottle to the blonde woman looking at him from across the room. A slow smile arrived on his face before refocusing on the bottle.

“How long have you been gone?”

“About two hours. Have you moved?”

He shook his head no.

“Have you decided whether or not to do the podcast? Or any interview for that matter?”

“I’m afraid not. What do I even have to say?”

The blonde found her way to the bed, taking a seat beside Theodor’s chair. She tried to figure out the young Romanian, possibly seeing things through his eyes. It couldn’t be done, however. Something was not there for him.

“I don’t know. I wish I could tell you to make up some things and lie your way through it.”

“How do you do it?”

His eyes raised towards her, wondering just how she could do it. He was a terrible liar. Maybe some training would help.

“Theo.. Lying sucks. I wish I could give you advice on how to lie to people. It won’t work. You’d carry the guilt. The same guilt that you’ve been carrying for years now. Ever since you went to war, you’ve changed. Not for the worse, trust me. Not overall.”

“I think you’re a bad liar too. We’re both shit liars.”

“I guess we are..”

The two exchanged a chuckle as he handed the bottle of beer over to her. She gave him a quick toast and took a drink before handing it back to him.

“That’s good. Has it helped any?”

“No. I’m at a fork in the road. That’s the saying, I think.”

Nodding to the Romanian, the blonde gave a quick amused smile while listening to him.

“After everything, it’s like we’re supposed to move right on. Back to business, they think. A chance to pick my number at the Clash. The higher the number, the better the odds, right?”

“Yep. That’s the advantage.”

“To get that, I have to win against Chris Sabertooth, Maggall, Mongoose, and Asakura. Not an easy task.”

“Okay, so how about you piece it together? How do you feel right now if the match happened in six months?”

“A little better.”

“How about a month?”

“Worse.”

“What if the match was happening tonight?”

“I wouldn’t be able to do it. Here’s why. I don’t have my gear here. I haven’t eaten yet, so the food will not digest by the time the bell rings. I don’t even know where the bathroom is here yet. Not to mention, I have yet to try out the bed.”

His overanalyzing drew laughter from her. In a way to give him a sign that the bed is fine, she pushed her weight onto the bed and noticed it didn’t have too much give.

“I think the bed will be fine. My point to this whole thing is that the match isn’t tonight. You have time to eat and get your gear when you head out to have that match. You have time to test out the bed and to find that bathroom that is RIGHT next to the hotel room door. It’s on the left.”

“You get what I’m saying, right?”

“Yes, that you want to make excuses.”

As much as he wanted to fight the accusation that the young lady made, he knew she was right. He was making excuses. Maybe it was the idea of being in so many wars that he forgot what normal life was. He had thought he drank his last beer with Jeff X. Not the case. Instead, Jeff found himself fighting for the title.

“Okay, I’ll tell you what you need to hear. Just, promise me that you won’t think anything less of me when I do this.”

“I’m a little bit more concerned that you didn’t see the bathroom when walking into the room.”

Her cozy smile had put him in a calm position. As he rested back against the chair, the Romanian took a drink and handed the bottle back to her. It was time to spill the beans.

“Do you remember last year when I was in the Clash? Before you answer, I want to say this on my own. I went far in the match. Entered in the middle of the match and made it to the final eight. Maybe it was better than that, maybe it was worse. A later entry might have helped me that night, I mean I would have had more energy. Instead, I was thrown out like I was worthless. That led to me being in the B.O.B. Games at Final Destination. You don’t wind up in that shit unless you’re new, low tier, or someone they don’t think will make any money for their show. Mr. Morgan told me that the worst situation is a match that needs people rather than having people that need a match. I was one of the people in a match, nothing more. That was all because I failed at the Clash as badly as I did. It was my hope to have something for me and there was nothing. Nothing but sumo games and football throwing. I don’t want that in my life.

Do you see how bad this is right now? My first match back after fighting for my life and I have to face off against former OWA World Champions and a man who wants a second dinner. They’re all hungry. Every single one of them wants this as bad as I do, if not more. I don’t even know IF I want to be the OWA World Heavyweight Champion anymore. Maybe that title isn’t for me, but I know that I can never stand back and not give it my best. You know, yes?”

After deciding against having the last sip out of the beer bottle, she handed the bottle over to Theodor. His eyes shifted from her to the bottle, finishing off the beer bottle.

“I get it, Theo. Look. I’m not as in tune to all this stuff as the others, but I can tell you that losing the Clash did hurt you. It hurt something that’s been hurting for you a long time, longer than that match. Your confidence. You haven’t felt confident in so long, so there has to be a way to get it back so you can win the match and focus on being in the main event. You belong in the main event, Theo. Despite everything you think, you deserve it and you can do it.”

“If I can’t set myself up to win this match, how can I be confident? I wish I had your confidence. You know what fear is and you turn it off. You get hurt and you keep going. How do you do that? How can I do that too?”

“By saying fuck it to the damn critics. Shut them up. Get out there and fight like the guy you are. You’re a fighter, not just a warrior or protector. You are the guy that everyone with a brain on the OWA roster thinks is a threat. Be the threat. You’re incredible in there and you know how to win. So…Win?”

“Easy. It’s so easy. I bet it will be worth it in the end, right? A win against those four and I get to pick my number. That means I get a chance to bypass all the stupid shit early on and come out at the very end to eliminate what’s left. I just have to go through Maggall, Sabertooth, Asakura and Mongoose.”

“Who the hell is Mongoose? I’ve never even heard of this guy before.”

“I don’t know. Someone who wrestles? Look, I don’t know who he is any more than he knows who I am. Unless he is one of those creepy men who watches me stream reading a book. Ugh, I am officially banning Mongoose from going on my stream as I read a book. That is disgusting!”

“Wait..What?”

“No! This piece of shit wants to creep on me.. That is not acceptable. I will not have some weird man watch me read. This is not happening.”

“You don’t even stream!”

“If I did, he’d be watching! I don’t want somebody I don’t know watching me read a book. I like to sit there on my own and do a little reading. Not to be distracted by a creepy man who finds it wonderful that a beautiful foreign man will read a book.”

Still trying to wrap her head around what Theodor just said about a stalker watching a stream of Theodor reading a book, she struggled to find the proper words.

“I’m pretty sure he’s not watching a stream of you reading a book. First off, why would anyone do that? Secondly, he’s in a wrestling match with you. I’m sure he’s focused on winning the match rather than trying to interrupt your reading. So, let’s say he’s good in the ring and could win that match if you guys are busy fighting the other people. I’m sure it’s one fall, right? So, he has a chance to win the match but I’m sure everyone is going to be all over the place that night. Don’t worry about the livestream. You’re not going to be streaming a reading session. Nobody does that..”

“Okay, fine. Forget about that man. Obviously he is shit. No idea who he is, but I’m sure the others will be enough of a problem. Maggall. I don’t like this man. Do you know why?”

“Opposite sides of the war?”

“No.”

“Because he called you names?”

“No.”

“Because he took the last hamburger from catering?”

“Did he?”

“I don’t know! I was hoping you’d tell me why you don’t like him, and you asked me why YOU don’t like him.”

“He treats everybody like shit. Big guy who can move, but he has no interest in being a great wrestler or even trying. As strong as he is, he’s always the guy who clings onto others to make himself look better. If it wasn’t this war, it was all the other times he fought in groups. He can’t fight on his own and he can’t think for himself. Now, his allies will not be there. Maybe he is going to be a large fish out of the water, yes?”

“If you’re not careful, he could hurt you.”

“If I’m not careful, anybody in this match can hurt me. Except for Mongoose, he may not know how to fight at all. I really don’t know this man. I do know Maggall though. He said some rude shit to me last time I was in the ring. I only agreed to team with him because I wanted to fight with Sabertooth to get this shit out of the way. Also, I think he doesn’t like me because I go to the gym.”

“Theo, you haven’t gone to the gym in six weeks.”

“I’m naturally talented. I don’t need practice. We’re not talking about a match, we are ta..”

“Don’t.”

“Talking ab..”

“Theo..Stop.”

“But, we’re talking about pr..”

“I regret ever showing you that clip.”

“Maggall doesn’t practice. He sits at home and gets food sent to him. He doesn’t watch matches, he watches bad comedies and NCIS. He’s not going to win. I know he is not going to. He has no chance to win this match because he will not be prepared.”

“That is a good show, though.”

“I do like that show.”

The blonde reached over to grab the empty beer bottle in order to throw it out, but Theodor stopped her by grabbing the bottle instead. It was a miracle, so to speak. The Hands Of Ice got up out of his chair and walked over to the mini refrigerator, grabbing two more beers. After cracking the bottles open, he approached her and handed one over prior to sitting back down on the chair. They raised their bottles to one another, taking a drink to NCIS for being a great show.

“So, now that we got those two out of the way. I can imagine it will be hard to get back into the ring with Asakura. Your mood always changes any time you have to face him. How do you feel this time?”

“I’ll admit, I’ve never gotten that three count on Asakura. That’s one thing that has always bothered me. Do you want to know what’s weird about him? I always saw Arata Asakura as the measuring stick. Whether I tried to wrestle him clean, try to fight a demiGod, or fight a man who disrespected me.. He has always been the guy that would determine if I was successful or not. Even going back to my first few matches in wrestling, I faced that man and if I was selfish.. I would have defeated him. No, I made the decision to do the right thing.

There has to be a piece of him that hates the fact that he has to be in this match. He’s main evented the last two Final Destinations, maybe more. I don’t remember. What I do remember is that he was there when Jeff won and he was there when Bishop won. Always on the outside looking in. He’s a changed man and it took me a long time to understand that. The truth doesn’t change though, the results will forever be there. I have not beaten Arata Asakura and I’m sick of not defeating him. I’m sick of being the guy who makes Asakura look like the biggest threat on the planet. I’m not going to be that man anymore, I can’t accept it anymore. I can’t be his stepping stone anymore.

Maybe it’s destiny that says I need to be the guy who comes close to winning the Championship, but..No. He needs to be the stepping stone for me. For once, just one time. The big moment that actually creates Champions. Everyone wants me to be the Champion so much, yet they always want me to be beneath them. I have dealt with it since my first match when I had to be a stepping stone to another person. This one’s different though. This one kept taking, not just one time. I’ll shake his hand after the match, but I will kick him as hard as I can. After that, we can drink. Yes, we can drink together.”

“You’re not in his shadow. I mean, he has been around longer than you and has built up that equity. You’re going to beat one day though, I know you will. However.. There is one more. I know you guys have settled your differences. I know this guy speaks very highly of you despite everything you two have been through.”

“Sabertooth.”

“Yep. He’s tough. One of the toughest out there. I’ve personally been at the arena both times you fought him one on one. This is a big one. How do you feel about fighting him one more time?”

“We had some good matches against each other. He’s incredible in the ring and one of the toughest men I’ve faced. Still, it’s not those matches that I keep thinking back to. You know what I’m thinking? I’ll just tell you, it’ll be easier on you. I think about last year’s Clash. We fought like hell inside of the ring. There was one man that I wanted to eliminate because of how much I dislike him..Yet Chris came up from behind me and threw me out. Just like that.. It was over. The dream was dashed and it was nothing more than a fantasy.

That started the worst year of my career. That started loss after loss. That became the B.O.B. Games. That became months of ‘Is Theodor going to choke again?’, that’s all I heard about. I can’t go back to that time.. I just can’t go backwards because that’s what I did last year. May as well be gone at that point. I don’t blame Sabertooth for the whole year, but I do put a lot of it on his shoulders. He was the one who kickstarted all of this. I love the guy, but I owe him a fight. We didn’t finish the fight. We will, though.”

“I’ll drink to that.”

The blonde extended her beer bottle to Theodor, allowing him to hit bottles with her before the two took a drink. He glanced out of the corner of his eye at how much the woman was drinking, challenging himself to drink as much as she was. Both set their bottles down, smiling.

“Do you feel better?”

“Yeah. There’s a lot more that I want to get off my chest. Maybe right now isn’t the time. The night is still young for us. We’ll go back to it tomorrow, how about that?”

“Sounds good to me, Champ.”

It brought a smile to his face, hearing the word Champ. It felt like years away from happening, but one thing was for sure. A win in the five way contest would pave the road to become that Champion at Final Destination.

Michael Bishop, Diantha Rosso, #BeLikeBea and DT The Ruler have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos April 26th 2023, 2:08 pm by **Rin Asakura**

OWA5 #1: Happy Ending.

25.04.2023 Tokyo, Japan

*All of these were more than just weird, it was ridiculously crazy. Although, Omega Wrestling Alliance was used to this whole bunch of unimaginable things, one after another happened something that managed to surprise them. Even those who seemed to understand the situation and its consequences well. Even those who had the knowledge to be several steps ahead could not defend themselves against all those mysterious turns of events. Even Rin Asakura, who had an archive of information on many things at the present time. Still, she didn't even imagine Abholos would help her bond with Izanagi. Most importantly she didn't think that God would leave her so soon. Although, was he actually gone? She couldn't sense the strong energy he brought with him last time, but she also had the feeling that it hadn't completely disappeared. Then again, he didn't speak to her since the battle ended. She started to believe that he was angry with her, because she didn't live up to his expectations. Though there was another option, maybe Izanagi was waiting for a better time to stand on Rin's side again. But it would be too foolish to stick to that possibility. The girl had no idea what his intention was, so she had to assume that she couldn't count on his help. However, unlike in previous months, this time she was not left alone. For some reason, her relationship with Ruri Kuzunoha started blooming like a flower. Of course, it was not so simple, but these two girls began to understand each other much better. Perhaps it was the perfect moment for them to join forces and take over the world. But this time, the one of wrestling.*

*The camera catches a young Japanese lady sitting on the edge of an indoor pool, with her legs deep in the cool water. Behind Rin's back, there is a glass wall through which come the warm rays of sun. The girl is wearing a lilac bikini and round sunglasses with the frame in the same color. A bright pink beaded choker can be seen around Rin's neck. Matching the hair clip pinned, on the left side, into her pink hair, which falls in waves over her shoulders. In her left hand, the woman holds a turquoise drink, which she takes a sip of. Then she stares at the colored liquid for a moment. As her gaze finally turns to the camera, Rin takes a deep breath. You can tell by the tone of her voice that she is annoyed, maybe even angry. Though she tries her best not to let her body language show it.*

Happy ending. Something that everyone dreamed about, when we took our first steps on the battlefield. Something they eventually got. All Havoc' allies turned their backs on him, so he was defeated at the end of this chaos. Not to mention, we were on the verge of creating some kind of national holiday, because Capitan America somehow escaped death. There is an old saying that can describe this case well. The biggest idiots have the most luck. But that's not important right now. What I'm trying to focus on is that this war took a perfect turn for everyone in the arena. They all came home safe...there was no need for funerals...or at least most of them. I don't fucking care about Violet, she was only piece of trash. Anyway, everything just seems way too perfect. Shouldn't we enjoy it? Shouldn't we have a sigh of relief that everything will come back to normal? What a lovely scenario, isn't it? Although there is one person who imagined it a little differently. And of course, it's me. To be honest, I'm not satisfied. This war should have ended in a different way. Please, just understand one thing before you call me naive. Did I expect Havoc to turn his back on us? Of course, no one was stupid enough to fully trust a chaotic son of a bitch like him. Still, I followed him. But you wonder why? Because I was hoping this damn Frontline and this bunch of hoes would be wiped out like a plague. That's all I wanted from this bloody war and he fucking disppointed me. I just wished I didn't have to look at their stupid faces. What I didn't want to hear after leaving the battlefield were these pseudo-heroic speeches. Oh, you saved the world...Oh, how wonderful and kind you are. Oh, shut up! Shut the fuck up! This glorification of this piece of shit is the biggest joke that can be made, and yet this stupid crowd does that all the time. Regardless of the fact that they are terrible people with no rules, or even a bit of manners. I fucking hate you and your stupid judgment. I genuinely hate these bunch of anime protagonists and I hope all of them eventually end up dead.

However, it is not important now. Sooner or later, I will get my revenge and finish what my father started. The thing is, I can't do it right now, because I made a promise. Something I intend to keep, especially since I did it for the woman who saved my life.

Thank you, Ruri. With Bishop standing over me with the gun, I was just waiting for him to pull the trigger. I wasn't sad or scared. I was just angry that this piece of garbage was going to end my life. I didn't expect any protests, or anyone to try to stop him. After all, who cares about some filth from the Asakura bloodline? They would be happy if I was dead. But you reacted...you actually covered me with your own body. You were literally ready to take the bullet. Which I thank you for, because I can imagine how terribly scary it was. If I were you, I wouldn't be sure if Bishop wouldn't shoot both of us. This man is a complete lunatic, so you risked your own life too. But you know what it proves? That all these events that have taken place have made us closer to each other. All that trauma created a strange bond that got a chance to evolve into what might someday become a friendship. I don't know...maybe one day you will be able to call me your friend. So I have no regrets, that I saved your ass multiple times, even if you were being annoying. And I'm glad that it made you decide to save mine too. No one is in 'debt' at this point, and yet you haven't rejected me. What's more, you are ready to fight alongside me and change The Golden Dawn's reputation. I can't be more happy that you really desire to stand with me side by side as new Women's Tag Team Champions.

We're not the textbook example of a perfect team, Ruri. We are like fire and ice. We have completely different personalities and priorities. We don't look in the same way at this world, that has not been especially kind to us. So you could start wondering about one thing. Does it even make sense? Isn't this just a waste of time? After all, something like this has little chance to exist, without immediately falling apart. It's like a ticking time bomb that could explode at any moment. Honestly? Normally I'd think so too, but there's something that makes me believe in us. Or rather, I know The Golden Dawn can make it to the top of the Women's Tag Team division. Even if it's foolish, my instinct tells me that our differences are actually what we can state as our main weapon. This is what actually makes us have good chemistry. Therefore, I will say one thing. I don't believe we will leave OWA5 with these belts, I KNOW SO. Who the fuck can even stop us, Ruri? There is no real threat in this whole match. The truth is that Alyssa's sudden change of mood made things a lot easier for us and we should take that benefit. The championship win has never been that close for me and I'm not going to waste this chance. And I know you also want to prove something to these people, Ruri. You want to show that Ruri Kuzunoha is more than Havoc's sidekick, and take that belt. And I will be happy to assist you in this, my friend. Everyone else can try to stop us, but let's be honest. The Golden Dawn is destined to have these belts.

*A mischievous smile appears on Rin’s face, as she tilts her head back. After a moment her shining eyes looks back at the camera again.*

And here we go again, Josie. We haven't seen each other for a while, but I doubt anything has changed. I have no doubt that you haven't grown up a bit during all that time, and perhaps you've become even more childish. After all, you have a pretty strong tendency to regress. Every time we come face to face it just gets worse. I guess, I could assume it's me, that makes you act like you are mentally handi-capped. However, I kept an eye on you and your odd habits, which proved me wrong. You're just a brat in the woman' body. That's all! Every fucking time you have a problem, instead of taking sensible solutions, you put on some pathetic drama. So let me ask you something again. What the fuck is wrong with you? Taking lessons from your crazy mentor damages your brain as well? Because I don't really want to believe, that someone as ridiculous as you can even have a legal license to be a fucking lawyer. You are just full of shit and you lack credibility. No wonder you had to escape to the wrestling industry. No one would entrust their fate in the hands of such an insane lawyer. Although if I were Gwen, I wouldn't even do it in the ring. I don't know what your weird relationship is, but I'm pretty sure Gwen doesn't trust you. Unless she got sunstroke while hunting, or she's a complete idiot. Anyway, as much as I'd expect Gwen to be a threat to us, you're solving our problem perfectly well. You are just a fucking deathweight for her, so you are making her trapped, Josie. You and your stupid whims. I'm one hundred percent sure, you'd be able to throw that title opportunity, just to take your emotions out on me. You still fucking mad, that my father killed your Bishop? Even after they revived that jerk, you still refused to let me have some peace, and I doubt you ever will. You're like a pain in the ass, that nothing can cure. Though, I hope you're aware of one thing, Josie. Remember how it turned out the last time you tried to stick your nose in my business? I almost beat you up to death. If you try to cost me MY championship, I will fucking kill you. And not even Ruri can stop me. The same goes for you, Gwen. I don't care who you are. I'm even less interested in what you've achieved in OWA so far. Because it's in the past. You're not the same person, since you came back from break. You are no longer as impressive as you used to be. So I'm starting to think, your career ended faster than it started. Perhaps it was better not to return at all, Gwen. You could have just lived peacefully in your disgusting world and not embarrass yourself. You could have kept rummaging through the guts of all those animals like some psychopath. Though, who am I to judge you, right? I killed Sabertooth on my first day, didn't I? The difference is that animals have good and pure hearts. If they do something wrong, it's only in self-defense. While humans are just a pile of flesh and bones filled with selfishness, brutality and hatred. So you could say that trying to get rid of such monsters is actually doing humanity a favor. While you kill innocent animals for your own pleasure. I might be a terrorist, but you are truly a different kind of monster, Gwen. And this is supposed to be the face of this company? You people hate everyone who doesn't play by your dumb rules, but somehow you accepted such a piece of shit. The double standards of America will never stop to surprise me. Anyway, if you are not going to change your approach, then I am going to make sure that Gwen won't be back on top.

These two will not snitch these titles from us, and even more so it will not be this joke of the team. Sleepytime Gorilla Punk...or whatever is that shitty name. What the hell is this? Preschoolers would think of a better name, that wasn't just a bunch of random words. However, disregard your lack of creativity and stupidity. What are you guys doing here anyway?Well, besides being a background for others. Me and Ruri already beat you on Odyssey. Not to mention, you didn't do too well in the contendership match at Civil War either. So why are you even included in our match? You are just a fucking losers, you don't deserve to be challengers. You shouldn't be here, because you are a fucking joke to this brand. I'm sorry Ruri, I promised I won't nuke this country...for now...but I am not going to be fake nice to anybody. If these two bitches have the audacity to be here and think they're equal to us, after proving over and over again that they're a joke...then I'm not going to be quiet. It's time to wake up, Cassie. Your sweet nap is over. I guess, it's time to understand that real life is not that easy. You should finally realize that being associated with the Matsuda family won't get you a comfortable spot. Even if Cloud's popularity makes Llorona consider you when it comes to opportunities. Which is ridiculous, but whatever. Your blood ties won't make you lift the championship about your head. Why? Because you're a lazy cunt...Because you don't care enough... Because you take it all too lightly, while others treat it as if their lives depended on it. Do you think the bare minimum is enough to compete with this? Especially since there are a lot of people in this brand who are hungry for success, and Golden Dawn is one of them.

It's insane to have such an extravagant look and be so invisible at the same time. I guess you imagined it a bit differently, didn't you, Dani? You probably thought that heavy makeup, tattoos, piercings and ugly hair color would make you unique. The problem is, you're no different than half the girls on a fucking tik tok or other shithead app. You wanted so badly to be different from others, that you became just like everyone else. Even your rebel talk is so overrated, because it is nothing new. How many times have we heard of someone wanting to fight corporations and then doing nothing about it? Talking for the sake of talking isn't worth shit, missy. How many times have we seen bitching on classic beauties, because some idiot, full of complexes, like you, couldn't stand that you don't look like this? It's actually kind of funny that you're trying to promote that everyone can look whatever they want, as long as you are not a 'perfect' type of girl. And this is your freedom, Dani? I've told you before. You and your demands are just full of hypocrisy, and the only reason you bring these topics is because it's selling well these days. You give it to them, because you know that's what the bunch of teenegers, in front of TV, want to hear. You're literally the textbook example of being a puppet of management, who makes huge money, because these kids want to be just like their favorite rebel. So, Dani..where is your freedom, when Scott Oasis has his hand up your ass since you walked into this company?

I've been waiting for quite a long time to finally reach for my first championship and I feel that day will come at OWA5. This weekend, you will all witness how Rin Asakura and Ruri Kuzunoha can declare themselves as your new tag team champions. And The Golden Dawn will enter its era of greatest splendor.

VaeVictisBD, Michael Bishop, Diantha Rosso, Christopher Sabertooth, #BeLikeBea and DT The Ruler have spoken. It’s such good shit!

OWA 5 PROMO 2 April 26th 2023, 12:43 pm by **Christopher Sabertooth**

The scene begins at a vibrant bar, bustling with patrons as loud rock music blasts through the speakers. In the distance, we see a familiar face sitting by the countertop with a beer in hand. Jeff X whistles at the bartender for a refill before getting startled by a tap on his shoulder. His surprise turns to that of joy as he welcomes his friend, Christopher Sabertooth, with a friendly hug.

About damn time! I am already four beers down waiting for your ass.

Shame that Mike couldn’t come. Theo is legally allowed to drink now and yet he doesn’t want to indulge in such settings. And Arata has got the mind of a sixty-year-old man. He hates having fun… It’s dope being out here, boozing it up. Especially after everything we went through. Think we’ve earned a beer or two.

Or twenty. What you having?

Hit me with the best you got. I don’t mind getting wasted tonight.

Damn fuckin’ right! Get ‘em some beer, will ya?

The bartender obliged as Chris settled down next to Jeff.

How’s Hana, by the way?

She’s-- She’s not feeling the best. Still struggling to come to terms with everything that happened. The guilt is really kicking her ass right now but I am sure she’ll pull through.

I can imagine… I know what your ass went through back in the day. Shit, I didn’t even trust you off-rip. It wasn’t until facing the Golden Dawn together that brought us back. We haven’t looked back ever since. Cheers to that!

They clank their pints before chugging down on their beer.

It’s finally over, isn’t it?

Shit, I hope so. I was trapped in hell for that shit. You… You died a couple of times already.

You’ve been keeping count?!

I have to. Cats only got nine lives and you are a bit of a pussy.

Chris shakes his head as Jeff chuckles.

I know Abholos was talking about something terrible leaking out of the gates of the abyss-- We’ll see when we get to it. Right now, I want to pretend that our lives are back to normal.

Then again, Abholos has got a pink furry dog collar around his neck now. Women really do have the power. Who knew all Abholos needed was some pussy--

Hey man. I ain’t going to kink shame a fucking demon. He can do whatever he wants as long as he’s not trying to kill us all.

True that! Speaking of demons…How was it, by the way? Being trapped down there. The two of us had been there together once but thankfully it was a short affair. This time was different… We really thought we lost you.

Man… I’ve seen some shit. I’d rather not talk about it five beers down. We’ll see twenty beers in. But nah-- It is as terrible as you probably remember. I am just glad that I got out of it. Thanks to Marie.

I am still upset with you about that.

Don’t tell me it’s about--

FUCK YEAH, IT’S ABOUT YOU SACRIFICING YOURSELF FOR ME!... I-- Thank you. I wish it would have been me, especially in hindsight seeing that you’re here with me. If it ever comes down to that, I don’t want you to do that ever again. You shouldn’t sacrifice what you’ve got for me. You’re my brother but you’ve got a life of your own to see through. You’ve got your responsibilities. Who’s going to look after your bar when you’re gone? Or your dogs? Andmaybefelix.

What was that last one?

I was hoping you’d tell me about that. How’s everything between the two of ya?

She’s upset with me just like you are. It’s crazy-- My two wives just hate me for doing the right thing.

WHY DO I HAVE TO BE THE WIFE?! Oh is it because I'm a--

Pussy. Yup.

Makes sense. Anyway, her being upset is a good thing. She cares about you. Good for you man.

Don’t get all sappy with me. I know you’ve got a wife and shit. But come on! It’s a boys' night out. We’re here to get drunk and watch some NBA playoffs.

That’s fair. I missed you buddy. I am glad that I didn’t lose ya.

I am glad I didn’t lose myself either. I missed ya sorry ass too. Let’s not make this a habit. I think we should stop dying now. It’s getting old.

It really is. Well, thankfully we’ve got a sense of normality back with OWA 5. Five years of the company and I have almost been here since day one… And somehow, we still haven’t gotten our one on one match yet. Isn’t that fucking crazy?

Woah now. Why would you bring that up? You trying to fight homie?!

You’re not?! Come on! Just a head-to-head battle. The best man wins. Aren’t you curious to see how that will pan out?

Don’t we already know?

Oh, come on. Don’t count that one time with the demon. Besides, that was a handicapped match. Not only was Arata on his ass but the entire OWA showed up including Havoc’s own followers to fuck him up. That was hardly a fair fight!

HE WAS A FUCKING DEMON!... but fine. What about the Spartan’s Championship matches from a few years ago? I got your ass then!

You didn’t! It was always supposed to be one on one between the two of us and we had like three other dudes ruin that by joining in on the fun. Besides, I didn’t get pinned. You won that match but you didn’t beat me. Hell, the only time we’ve come remotely close to facing each other in a one-on-one setting-- was when Havoc cashed in on you to win the OWA World Championship.

Don’t remind me of that! I hate the fact that you held the OWA title ONE DAY more than me.

Have you tried combining both of your reigns?

Very funny! Shit, you trying to fight right now?

Like right now?

That’s what I said!

No! I don’t want to fight right now-- But there’s a chance that we can get the match we always wanted. OWA 5 is around the corner. Think you can manage to become the OWA World Champion for the third time?

It’s going to be tough. Kenny Drake. Aria Jaxon. Stark. Fuckin’ Michael Bishop. They’re all killers. All former champions. But I won’t lie-- I do fancy my chances. I love Mike-- I really do. But he recently got the chance to run the show. He was THE champion. He held it for a good while too. I am sure he’s itching to get it back but I want it bad. REALLY fucking bad. It feels like I put my career on hold--

THAT’S WHAT I HAVE BEEN SAYING! While we had a great run as tag team champions, we couldn’t really defend it as much as we wanted. And then it ended with me six feet under. Shit was rough! There was always something coming in the way of some good ol’ wrestling. I just want to prove to the world that I still have it in me. That I can still win without a demon up my ass.

Is that how he got in?!

I fucking hope not. Regardless, I just want to enjoy my time as a wrestler. It’s something I always aspired to be. The last few years have made me appreciate life on a much deeper level. You never know when it will be your last day and I think I am running out of second chances. I don’t want to die knowing I couldn’t do everything that I wanted to do. While technically I am a former OWA World Champion-- It just doesn’t feel right saying that knowing Havoc was responsible for it. It doesn’t feel like MY accolade. I have been thinking about it-- When I thought you were gone for good, I made a vow to myself and I let the world know. I want to become OWA World Champion. But this time, I want to do it the right way. By winning the Clash of the Titans and finally reaching the pinnacle of this industry on my own. You know what would make that a lot sweeter?

If I were to win the OWA World Championship on the next show.

Then we can have our one on one match. The match we always wanted. Without any distractions. Without any outside interferences. Just the two of us. The best man will walk out as the victor and the champion of the company. We always talk about how we carried Kingdom on our backs through the toughest of times… It’s about time we make good of all the things we have said. Don’t you think? I don’t know when we’d get a better chance to do exactly what we both want. Head into Final Destination and give it our very best.

It would be fucking tight, I won’t lie. But a lot of things have to go right for that to happen. Winning the OWA World Championship won’t be easy but I’ve got my mind set on it. I will make it happen. And if I don’t-- I will be winning the Clash…again. Chris, as good as the two of us facing each for the top prize would be, I am not going to fall back if you stumble along the way. No offense!

Offense taken! Sure, I don’t have the Clash win under my belt like you do. It’s a tall task and something I have come close to achieving before. But close isn’t good enough. I have to prove the world wrong. While the fans are accepting of my impact and legacy in the business, my peers are full of doubters. I heard Moongoose McQueen say the other day that I haven’t done anything without Havoc. It’s crazy how that is STILL the narrative about my career but then again-- I don’t blame them. I have had plenty of success in OWA. The second ever Grand Slam Champion. The two of us together had the longest title reign in the company’s history. A record I don’t see ever getting broken. I beat Gareth Cason when he was the unstoppable force on Friday nights. I know what it takes to get it done. It’s just that I haven’t done that yet at the highest level here in OWA without Havoc. And that’s the stigma that I wish to eliminate. I have been a world-beater in every promotion I’ve been to. But that doesn’t matter if I can’t prove the doubters wrong now. Even if I am supposedly at the twilight of my career, I will NOT stumble, Jeff. At OWA 5, I very much intend to punch my ticket to Clash of the Titans. And I’ll get the Outlaw Championship along with it. I am more than happy to have any sort of hardware under my belt as it only strengthens my claim. Don’t get me wrong-- I still want to face you one on one. As much as I love Mike, I will be rooting for you at OWA 5. Because I want that match. I want to face you. And I want to BEAT you. But that doesn’t change my story if you somehow fail to capture the gold. Whether it is Mike, Stark, Aria, or Kenny-- I will challenge the champion at Final Destination after winning the Clash. OWA 5 is simply the launching pad. It’s time that I finish the story.

Woah there, pal. It didn’t turn out well for the last guy who said it!... But I see you. I like this fire out of you, Chris. It reminds me of the Chris of old. The prizefighter. The loudmouth who backed it up in the ring. We haven’t seen that guy for a while, to no fault of your own. Shit, I love some fighting words. You’ve riled me up too. Aight. Lemme get that title at OWA 5 so that I don’t have to spoil your party at the Clash. You know what you have to do. Get that final spot and secure your chance--

Come on. You know me better than that.

Aight, yeah-- I was just testing you. I wanted to see how serious you were about this. Ain’t no way I would pussy out and pick the final spot if I were in your shoes. I know exactly what you’re going to pick.

Number One.

That’s my boy! You know what? I am rooting for you too. Don’t tell Arata this…

Oh, I will! He should know who the leader of the Frontline predicts to win it all! I respect the hell out of Arata. That man has been through hell, just like us. If there’s anybody who can relate to how I feel right now, it’s him. While Arata thinks that I shouldn’t be trying to break past my limits-- After all, I am a mere mortal now. No demon to help me out… But that goes against everything we have done in the past few years. Frontline-- Thotline together have broken past their limits and shown the world the true strength of humanity. Demons. Gods. Monsters. We have slayed them all. It’s almost like the past few years were building to this. Building back my confidence and strength. Slaying the demons that haunted my existence. Saving my friends and family. I am at peace. The REAL Christopher Sabertooth can finally return. I’ve seen plenty of the rookies and new faces around talk a lot of shit about me. About us. They think we’re washed. Just because our priorities lay elsewhere does not mean we aren’t the best to ever do this shit. It’s about time they know.

People will talk shit regardless of what we do.

They will. But I am not just going to sit there and smile and accept it as my truth. I know who I am. I know what I can do. Sure, I haven’t been able to show that over the past couple of years-- But can you blame me? I had shit to do! I had to save myself. My wife. THE FUCKING WORLD! Our plates were full and even then we managed to have the greatest title run in the company's history. That’s what we can do. But right now-- It’s not about Thotline. It’s not about us either. I have to be selfish. I have to think about Chris, who dreamed of being the best wrestler in the world. I can’t fail him.

Fuck yeah. I get it! Shit, I feel the same way about my career. I am tired of saving the world every fucking time some demon comes knocking around. We’ve done enough. Let’s go kick some ass.

Right now? Think we could take on everyone here.

Pfft. Easy. But let’s not ruin my business here. I don’t want bad ratings on Yelp.

Understandable. So-- A drink to commemorate the resurgence of Murder Inc.

Ayye!

A drink to Maggall’s fat ass that I am about to whoop all over the ring for all the shit he has been talking. As terrifying as he should be, Maggall really hasn’t done enough to even warrant being in this match. I’d much rather see someone like Chad Ecclestone in this match than Maggall… And I hate that guy!

Ayye!

A drink to Theo cause he couldn’t be here himself to have one with us. He’s my brother but he’s gotta wait a bit longer for his turn in the spotlight. Regardless, I am sure he wants to earn his position on the top by beating people such as ourselves who have held the Kingdom banner up high. Would I hate to see Theo pull off the miracle run and win the Clash? No, I’d be ecstatic for him. But is that something that I actively want to happen at this moment? Fuck no! DON’T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT, JEFF! You’re competing for the world title while he still has to overcome the toughest challenge in wrestling by winning the Clash. It’s not just me being selfish here-- I WANT my moment, Jeff. I want to experience the highs that you and Mike went through. The feeling of being at the top. My memory is faded and I can’t find solace in knowing that I couldn’t win it without Havoc. Whether the world sees it or not, I would be a failure.

You’re being too harsh on yourself. Win or not, you’re still one of the greatest in OWA’s history.

Stop glazing me up, bro! I need the motivation to push myself after everything that happened. Winning the Clash would be the reset button I have been desperately looking for. I don’t want to end my career on a lull.

What’s this about ending your career, eh? You ain’t going nowhere without our match.

Oh, trust me… I wouldn’t hate it if it was the last thing I ever did in my career. But why wait? If it’s gotta happen-- It will be at Final Destination. And it can’t get better than having the top prize of the industry hanging in the balance.

Shit, I better win then, huh?

Damn fucking right!

Don’t get too ahead of yourself just yet. You’ve got some killers against you…

And Maggall.

Yes. Goose is back and I know firsthand how shiesty he can be to get the win.

I don’t know why he’s talking about my drive when that man has nothing left to prove himself. Hall of Famer. Former Champion. He’s done it all. I see him as a welcoming surprise for the big show than an actual threat. Goose is happy being retired. He’d much rather go around saving the world! I am not letting him take away this moment from me. None of them can. It’s now or never. I have to do the last thing left for me to do in OWA. Win the Clash and OWA 5 will be the first step towards it.

Man… why we cutting a promo in the bar?

… Good point. Bottoms Up!

VaeVictisBD, Michael Bishop, Diantha Rosso, Scott Oasis, Theodor Pavel, #BeLikeBea, DT The Ruler and have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos April 26th 2023, 10:37 am by **DT The Ruler**

GOOD LORD!

(In his Hartford, Connecticut office, DT The Ruler is shown on camera, reclining at his desk, smoking a cigar while watching MSNBC on his widescreen television there. The OWA Tag team Championship belt he owned sat at the top of his desk in its display case as well)

I’m sure some of you will hear that and believe that I’m angry. I’m furious, foaming at the mouth like a rabid pitbull at what I’ve been hearing. I’m sure someone will say I'm super mad. Nah, not really. I’m sitting here, just minding my business, right, just watching the news in my office, with my suit on, seeing Mr. Joe Biden struggle to verbally make his bid for re-election. I was going to address you degenerates once again because walls have ears, and I hear a lot of nonsense coming from many members of the OWA Locker Room, and all I’ve done so far is tell the truth! Speaking facts is all I’ve spoken ever since I returned, fighting for the opportunities that I MORE THAN DESERVE is all I’ve done from the moment I debuted in OWA on Kingdom last year, and everything about me is met with antagonism and idiocy. I was at a Board Meeting when I heard Mr. Carlos Rosso get high and mighty.... well, just high... and insulted The Ruler worse than he insulted his actual opponent coming up at OWA5. I heard Mrs. Aria Jaxon go Cynthia G on myself and Mr. Raivo and call us “weak men” because Ms. Diantha Rosso decided to help ensure luck was not on the side of the “Queens” of Wrestling- though in reality, it was NOT needed- when not only did she and Mrs. Matsuda do the womanly thing and attack a non-wrestler in Mr. Giovante Reese for just wanting them on our side but turned a blind eye to a non-wrestler in Mr. Morgan Shaw getting stomped by a “real man” in Mr. Jeff X until he resembled road kill. Ultimately, all that ends up being is a reason men should not allow any women to dictate what a real man is, because they will move the goalpost to whatever they feel is right that moment.

And as I said, those things don’t make me angry. In fact: they sadden me. They sadden me because these are my people, Black People, talking negatively about their own kind in ways that is unwarranted, unjustified, and just not well thought-out. Sporadic, overly emotional opinions tend to happen when in a competitive environment, I understand that, but it still hits the heart. I’m feeling like how Russell Westbrook feels hearing those things from my own people, and in my respective professions, my proficiency is much better by a country mile.

But Mr. Darkane, however...

(DT The Ruler took a pause to shake his head and sighed then turned the volume down on the television)

I heard about this man, and I know some of the lore of the self-proclaimed Graveworm, a man who admitted to being the lowest of degenerates on the Olympus brand, the type to roll in his own shit if his favorite band encouraged it to a drum and guitar, and I must say, I am only disappointed because I was just trying to be nice while simultaneously being sarcastic about him and that other boy he’s teaming with. But all I got in return was a lot of politicking! A lot of lip-service and BS, akin to what I’m preparing all my senses for when it comes to Mr. Biden getting ready to struggle-speak into a second term against whatever out-of-shape mayonnaise mutant of elderly age is put against him in a Best of Three Bullshit on a Podium Match. But I had no clue there were aspiring politicians amongst the OWA faithful, but I should have known better! I’m sure the people against For The Minorities will flock to any and everyone against us as long as they promise that we’re going to get beaten mercilessly, that FTM dies off and blows away with the wind, that’s- how did he say it? Hold on, there was a lot of bullshit... (DT The Ruler picked up his cellphone and checked his notes) ah, there we are... that they’re going to make myself and Mr. Raivo “know the pain of losing something close to the vest. The pain of letting each other down when it counts the most.” Man, cut that edgelordian nonsense out. CUT IT OUT! Off the cuff, I can tell a good chunk of the shit you slung was copypasta of what you’d say to a Big Baker Brand CEO of the past. Matter fact, the more I hear you talk, the more I can’t help but sit back and think you’re assuming you’re going to be fighting against another Remington Ivory Prescott clone and whoever he contracts with money he finagled out of a Charity Fund he started. And I understand facing the likes of them, men who barely want to fight, is a very pathetic endeavor. But know right off the bat that I may be rich now, I may have confidence in myself, but I am not them. The people on my side are not bought and paid for, either. They are with me because they believe in Mr. Raivo’s Mission Statement, not because we are just a bunch of bitter crybabies looking for the easy way out, competing in the Oppression Olympics, and none of us are going to fall for that crap. Anytime Black People speak on issues that they’re dealing with, here come one of you followed by your echo chamber with any response equivalent to “shut up and dribble”, which is funny because we’ve done nothing but that for months at a time. Everyone in For The Minorities is talented enough to beat damn near everyone, but that’s beside the point, Mr. Darkane. Like I said, that doesn’t anger me, really. But it does give me more questions for you to muddle over, with my first one being WHY SO SERIOUS?! Turn that blood-lusted frown upside-down, Mr. Darkane! You see a man willing to spend a few pennies to help you out, and immediately: you assume I’m more worried about your hygiene than about the task at hand, the oh-so-serious fight coming up, where you’re going to make us suffer and struggle! Listen, not-so-good sir: I’m a grown ass man with his life under control, overseeing many business ventures at a time; multitasking is pretty damn easy for me. I’m just trying to do myself and Mr. Raivo a favor by offering to do you a favor simultaneously, because I am not looking forward to smacking you with a chair upside your head and risk getting dandruff flakes in my eyes! I don’t want to attempt to lift either member of the Seventh Ward and feel as if my hands are dipped in McDonald’s cooking grease! I don’t desire to push your asses off a ladder into another ladder- or a table even- and see your pasty bodies smack against the canvas and witness a skid mark where you land! I look forward to the violence myself and Mr. Raivo put you degenerates through be as clean as possible!

Since we’re in a questioning mood, Mr. Darkane, let me ask you another question: what is Clout Chasing? Because you’re not the only one to suggest this in your championship campaign against For The Minorities, and I’m sure with how many of you don’t think for yourselves, you won’t be the last. So inform everyone what that means, because I’m sure with the way you used it, the definition will be bastardized the same way you White People bastardized the term “WOKE”. Since it’s always pretty dark and/or murky wherever you are, I can tell you haven’t been using your eyes very well- if at all- because if you were, you’d be able to discern with your eyes that myself and Mr. Raivo since we started in OWA have done nothing but what was said we should do, and that is compete in the ring. If The Ruler was indeed a Clout Chaser, I would have demanded to return from retirement during a PPV in a segment solely dedicated to my past greatness! If I were indeed a Clout Chaser, I’d be pointing out my championship wins from yesteryear every chance I get, yet the people that do that the most are my opponents! I do not define my being on just the past; I keep to the past and present, and the fact that I’ve won two titles in less than six months of each other and held them both for longer than a New York Minute with multiple defenses each should be proof enough. But If you were paying attention, you’d know damn well neither of us have a problem fighting for our keep, putting our face to the grindstone, working for what everyone else has to work for in OWA. The very titles you and your running buddy are fighting for we won the hard way. So now that you know what it isn’t, let me tell you what it is, Mr. Darkane. Clout Chasing is kidnapping a woman one of your opponents from another brand happens to be smashing and threatening her life on LIVE television, emulating their favorite serial killer in order to be seen as legit. Clout Chasing is randomly appearing on the brand you don’t belong on AGAIN and attacking your next opponents with shovels right after they successfully defended their championships in a contest everyone tuned in with the hope that they’d lose and disappear! Clout Chasing is something you and your partner need to define correctly while looking through the clearest mirror you can find. But if there is one additional thing people around here lack, it is the ability to self-reflect, and you both exude it! Just like you claim to be bored of us- as if we are here for your entertainment- we are tired of having to explain ourselves and things like this over and over and over and over again to people who rather listen with their ears clogged and hear things how they want to hear them and refuse to understand the bullshit we have dealt with. You call us pointing out the fact that myself and Mr. Raivo pointing out how the one World Title match we’ve been in is one where we had to fight EACH OTHER, point out how the Outlaw Title was instantly made anew right after I lost it- despite the fact that I was so dominant as champion that no one wanted to try their luck with the 24/7 rule- that we point out how forgettable nobodies get to debut in title matches, despite not having proven themselves once worth the price of admission. None of what we For The Minorities stands for is Clout Chasing. We don’t stand up to this system for likes. We don’t give enough of a damn if you share snippets of our comments on Social Media. We care about the simple fact that we get the same opportunities we see everyone else getting for merely existing. Don’t lie to me and say that you’d just sit back and not say a damn thing about that, Mr. Darkane. I hear how you talk about your opposition on Olympus, particularly Mr. Mark Michaels, and how you feel as if every single being there is beneath you and substantially weaker, and I know damn well with the accomplishments you have scrounged up, you wouldn’t let that slide silently. But we should be quiet about that nonsense on Kingdom, right? We should just let what happens to us continue to happen, right? Being slighted, being cheated, being pushed to the side: we should just roll with it, all because supposedly other people are tired of us?

Man, listen....

(DT The Ruler stopped to laugh and inhaled before tapping his cigar against the ash tray on his desk, then took another puff before continuing)

Mr. Darkane, though, understand another thing coming into this TLC contest, a match that should favor garbage “fighters” like yourself and Mr. Arjen, is that myself and Mr. Raivo know your game well, and it’s a game of randomness, a game that you’re not really succeeding in, because that randomness is your biggest crutch coming into this contest! You expect us to be so shocked, so befuddled by the lengths you’re willing to go in order to win, so lost for words at the extremes you and your partner are willing to go, but the only thing you’ve managed to be was... slightly irritating. I can sense the desire of you both to be OWA’s Boogeymen, the monsters from under the bed, that thing making noise in the unlit part of the closet, that thing that goes bump in the night and emanates horror, but you’ll find out boogeymen only scare children. And just that alone: we don’t take you seriously. For The Minorities just don’t look at either of you as men we should get the 200% serious faces out for. You’re just politicking. I actually was waiting for “MAKE OMEGA GREAT AGAIN” to slip out somehow, but I guess further disappointment was avoided. Mr. Raivo, the Authentic, does not see you two as authentic in your beliefs that you can make us suffer any more than anyone else has attempted. And I do not either. You see with the Dojo Bros, as much as I look at them straining to make us flinch as I stand over both like Pai Mei stands over his vengeance-riddled opposition, they have a more legitimate excuse to bring out any and all tricks they can to damage that strong foundation our team is built on. They are younger, newer, still developing muscle. Maybe their growth will be akin to Giannis Antetokounmpo over time; you never know. Though right now: we’re going to annihilate Team Bird Chest with the greatest of ease. But for you two, all I smell off you is the odor of D E S P E R A T I O N in a way expected.

Despite us knowing your game, Mr. Darkane, I can tell you don’t know ours, especially mine, if you have to even sarcastically question whether or not I know how to fight, as well as whether or not my head is in the game. We’re the champions for a reason, and it’s not due to a lack of competition or attention to potential competition, either. The burden-of-proof is always on the challengers to prove us wrong, and there’s been a good list of failures you can ask about that, including one on your side, Mr. Darkane, and it’s pretty comforting that you would love to be added to that list. My next question to you is “Do you even know what a fight is” because if you did not see what the members of For The Minorities were willing to put themselves through to get their point across, from an all-out, no holds-barred, all weapons encouraged war just last month to fighting straight up against the very groups of people causing the most dysfunction on Kingdom and Odyssey, standing as the pillars for an organization that continues to overlook us, then I’m starting to believe your favorite grunge spots are so polluted that they’re degrading your senses. Every member of For The Minorities have been through the ringer, outside and inside that very ring, and yet we have come together and persevered. In moments where bigger egos would have imploded on each other and just let whoever dies just die, when other factions would’ve turned Dog Eat Dog, we stayed together and remain supportive of what each of us wants in the end. We fought back against a system that constantly wants us to have nothing and be fodder for The Frontline and others around us, and yet we get questioned about whether we know what suffering feels like. Until you lose your freedom and have to fight for your life with nothing but your hands and feet, until you have to kill or be killed because you were forced to- not because of a sanctioned match where your thirst for brutality gets quenched- you will never know understand suffering on a level that matters. But like said before: we do not speak the way we do because of some competition of oppression; all we do is tell the truth. And trust: myself and Mr. Raivo LOVE when our competition cannot stand to do that against us.

In the end, the movements of For The Minorities aren’t for attention on a Basic Bitch level, and I know that hurts everyone going into this TLC fight assuming that we are going to be too scared to break a nail and get scrappy, that we’re going to ask for peace when the battle begins for our titles. I know there are those believing that myself especially is going into this TLC match at OWA5 too concerned that I’ll bury my fist into a member of The Seventh Ward and catch syphil-gono-herpes and cooties when making contact with their skin. All we wanted was a fair shake at glory, at championships, and at being at the top of the mountain. And then to be acknowledged for the work we put towards that! So simple yet just like in every other sport: so complicated for Black People to be seen as great. But of course, life can’t be simple. But I’ll leave you with one last but simple question, Mr. Darkane and then answer it for you:

Which way will you address me after you fail to rid OWA of For The Minorities: SIR or Your Master and Ruler?

And the answer to that is: Yes.

(The camera fades to black as MSNBC airs a special vignette on Harry Belafonte and his activism)

Michael Bishop, Diantha Rosso, Darkane, #BeLikeBea, Felix Hartley and Tyler Kulina have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos April 26th 2023, 4:46 am by **Raivo**

I speak not because I like to hear myself talk, but so that those who are listening get the chance to finally hear what perfection is. Is it egotistical to think highly of yourself and to have the history to show that? Is it egotistical to be able to back up what you say no matter the people who try and bring the rain to your parade? You can hate me, you can love me, but you can’t deny that when people tried to call me out on my antics they was never able to get the job done. Because let me tell you something, I always deliver, I don’t talk because I can’t back it up, I talk because I know none of you bitches in the back are able to deliver. I talk because no one is ever able to shut me up. I talk because no matter what you do you can’t keep a good brotha down and I ain’t ever going to lay down for the white man in this fucking arena, or in this fucking company. You have so many people who are called generational talents, so many people who always hold a moral high ground when it comes to showing off like it will them more points than what they’re able to produce, but in actuality they’re just telling me they ain’t fun at all. That they are some bozos who feel that being in this position is going to put them above me, above DT. And dammit if they want to think that they can, but it ain’t true. Not true in the sense they want to be.

People ask me “Raivo why do you talk so much shit?” Well who gonna check me? Frontline has tried to kill me so many times but look who is still standing and look who died so many times then I can CARE to remember. Raivo has lived where others have failed. I am Uncheckable, I am Impeccable, I am the Authentic and the sooner you dumb sons of bitches understand that the sooner you can realize something. I just don’t care. I just don’t give a shit what narrative you’re throwing my way. Because when the push comes to shove its gonna go down like this. You gonna have us in a corner and think you’ve won, like everyone else does, and then we pull out with the win. People say we steal it, people say we are one of if not the team that commits the most highway robberies of our matches, but that’s because even though you prepare, even though you tell us you’re ready for what For the Minorities is going to do, you always fail. You always fucking fail no matter the people who face us. No matter the understanding that you have us figured out because For the Minorities has rigged the game. We have in our corner a game that so many people have tried to mix up, show up and fuck up for us because they don’t want us to succeed at all. Nah they want to keep us down because it makes them feel good and when it gets the point they’re unable to do so they get flustered and wonder where it all went wrong. And I can tell you that, it went wrong when you tried to fuck with me, it went wrong when you tried to fuck with DT, and it went wrong when you THOUGHT you knew who you were dealing with. That’s the fun thing about For the Minorities, we aren’t just one ideal, we aren’t just one trick ponies, nah we some tricky assholes. We don’t play fair and I don’t expect anyone to try and do so against us, but what gets us ahead is the fact we are the definition of scrappy. People hate us, Society loathes us, and the people in the back, well while they want to advertise themselves as the unlovables, we know we’ve had targets on our backs even before we became champions. No one wanted us in the spotlight so when we broke through the scene we set off so many others and they felt like we stepped on their toes. So we’ve had targets, we’ve had people hate us, and we knew that no one would ever think of us as upstanding people, so we didn’t care what we did. I mean the results speak for themselves. Who else is the most winningest team to have held these belts in recent memory? Who else is plastered and moving the merchandise sales even though so many people hate us? Who else is being given deal after deal to make someone buy something? For the Minorities, because while OWA can’t see it, everyone else sees our value. They see that we are the true paragons of a supposed change that was supposed to happen so long ago and so many people failed at. They see the fucking truth. And that truth is what these assholes in this match need to see. And it’s a hard truth for anyone to swallow but since we’re on the topic of it we might as well get started with these fucking fuckwits. I’m gonna be very very fucking blunt when I say this but.

OHHH MY GODDDD. Enough with the fucking theatrics. Homies acting like a fucking high school goth group who the world has shunned and “left to the dark” I ain’t been able to sit through whatever it is they were saying. Look I know you people love it when you got dark and brooding characters within this company but y’all got this shit more depressing than a Synder flick. It ain’t interesting, it never was. I don’t give a shit about who brings in what sort of dread because I’ve been faced with better competition. Look i don’t care what sort of dark energy you two got because let me tell you that is nothing compared to what I have had to go through, what WE had to go through. You two idiots had a lovers quarrel akin to that of a small hick bar brawl and think you know what it’s like to bring down competition. Darkane, Laz, I never respected you ever, and I never will, but even I know I’m not that delusional to think that you two have had it worse. You two are what I’d like to call a comedy act, but no one is laughing. You are like a fucking 4chan board come to life, you just ain’t at the throwing slurs every minute mark yet, but knowing what Laz is into I know that’s not far from the mark. But I mean I’ll bite, I’ll act like I’m scared of you for a second so let me get into character.

(Raivo moves his hand over his face and act terrified, cartoonishly acting like he saw something spooky, only for him to go back to what he normally was doing but with a big smirk on his face.)

Did you get off on that huh? The supposed fear that you think you command, the supposed anxiety you want to instill in someone? Is that what you want? Because if it is then let me tell you that don’t work anymore. The people that actually controlled fear are in hell or on a dog collar being paraded around by a white bitch. I know you two want to command that fear, I know you two want to be the next big evil boss that everyone is looking scared to face, but that’s not what is happening with me and DT. Because to us, you’re just a bigger Jeff X and Bishop, and those two hit a lot worse than you two. You surprised us sure, and you’re carrying that as you big fuck off banner but that means nothing to me. That means nothing to DT because we know one thing and that’s you two couldn’t get the job done without it. Now I’m not gonna look down on your for surprise attacks cause I’ve done my fair share, but I’ve always shown that I could hold myself in my own god damn fights as well. Darkane, Laz, you two have a lost a step and it’s noticeable, I’m able to see everything ain’t right for you two anymore. And that’s cause you two are becoming relics, relics of a past that should have evaporated so long ago. You two dominated Olympus for a while and now that Olympus has become this den of failure and slobs you two want to branch out, extend it a bit just to see if you can land it back in Kingdom, but I can tell your right now that that ain’t happening. Because you just can’t make it work anymore. And I know, I know “something something don’t underestimate us, something something we’ve taken down worse” bluh, If I wanted to be lectured by an old crone and his BDSM cock slave I’d go to the nearest town that Jeff is frequenting. And if I have to listen to any more recycled bullshit I might just do your job for you and end it all here.

The Seventh Ward, a name you two took from the cesspools your crawled out of. Now that’s the one thing I remember because due to mandated training by OWA, I have to be put into a spot where they force me to remember the names of the people I face. But you have to understand that when your boring you don’t leave a mark, and all of y’all are boring. Because you all are the same fucking thing just in different fonts. Laz, you’re like a fucking Arial version of Darkane, while Darkane is fucking Times New Roman of Bishop, and so on it goes down the line and I could keep giving more examples but if I do then I will kill myself. And before we get any further I do want to clear some air. I am discounting everything you’ve done. I am choosing to be ignorant about your accomplishment. I am choosing to say nothing about them, because why should I? I want you to make that argument of why I should care. Because I know you’re not winning, I know you ain’t walking out of there with OUR titles, with MY title, and I know you’re not going to be winning any time soon as long as you keep stepping to us. And that’s just a fact for us because let’s face it. The reason you were able to conquer all of Olympus is because we weren’t there. Because all the talent in Olympus are lesser compared to the talent in Kingdom. You were big fishies in little ponds and you want to expand I get it. And Darkane I know you got a history here but it matters very fucking little to me. Because where that was compared to now is different from where you were at and I need you to accept that. Because it’s just going to be a bitter loss after bitter loss when you realize you can no longer keep up. Same with you Laz, you’re doing what, riding the aging coat tails of Darkane so that your name is up there when you leave. So that with a little recency bias people are going to remember you? No, no one will. No one is going to remember the second fiddle, the stooge, the fucking igor to the frankenstein’s monster and that’s all you ever will be. Just a little earmark but one of those made because you accidentally closed the book too fast and caused a crinkle. I mean it’s just sad really but it your reality that you’ve made for yourself. And whether you two care or not, I need you to know I don’t need your approval. Because after this you’re just going to be another team who fell to For the Minorities. But good luck catapulting off our name, we love it when people try and use us for personal glory. It just goes to show you were nothing in the first place.

And speaking of nothing, while I want to talk to Tyler, I feel tired. Tired because of this fucking pompous bullshit people want to put on. Like we have the tale of two tapes here. You got these fucking brutal, dark as shit old guns who are looking for one shot of glory while also simultaneously relighting a flame to cement a legacy. And then you got two young bucks being led by an old ass foagie with no inclination of what it means to make a mark in history, trying their damned best to become the next big thing while being a guppy in a fucking ocean. You got these two teams and you got a story waiting to be told and people love a good story, and it within that story that you realize that it’s just nothing but a fucking word salad. Meaningless, no end in sight, and the people reciting it are too plastered to remember if there was an actual ending. That is what we got here, two paths for two teams who want to get a title, and at the end of those paths is what? A happy ending? Nah, whats at the end is disappointed, a clarity that they were the ones who shouldn’t have held the titles, a good kick to the gut that they have failed in become the champions that actually do anything worth a damn. That is what is in the ending and it’s funny because they believe that they are ready. That they are the team who is going to end the tyranny of For the Minorities and bring something back to the gold, but that’s not the case. Because what they got are tropes, are identities ingrained in what they want to be rather than what they are. You got crotchety old men still holding on the idea that they strike fear and that they are going to what they will in order to win. You know men with a death wish and a tenacity to throw their bodies into traps that work against them just for a sliver of chance to win. And then you got two up and comers who want what should have been theirs so long ago but has been out of their grasp for so long. But really they’re just two fucking goldfish who are trying to fight and wage wars with the sharks. They don’t know what’s in store for them because their sensei has diluted their ideas and filled their heads with an idea that they could achieve what they can now that they believe in themselves but that’s not the case. That’s never been the case. And let me tell you something, Tyler. Yes I’m addressing you now so listen to me.

You can believe all the rainbows and honey’d words that were given to both you and Sena, but that don’t mean shit to me. That don’t mean shit to DT, and it sure as hell don’t mean shit to Seventh Ward. You come out here like an anime protag thinking you can talk to our sense and hope for a good game. Nah dawg what’s going to happen is you’re going to come in here, get his with a Mickey Finn, thrown out and discarded and then the real match between For the Minorities and Seventh Ward begins. And that’s it. That is all there is going to be for Dojo Bros and honestly that’s all it should have been those months ago when you two couldn’t do shit to me and DT in our singles match and then our Tag Match. You did nothing but show the world what failures you are and you’re going to do the same thing come OWA 5. It’s not a prediction I have for you, it’s the current trend of you and your partner falling downward into a spiral that not even tenacity can save you from. You can try and bring yourself up, you can try and hype your abilities but we all know that it’s just talk at that point. That what you’re doing is amounted to Tucker Carlson hyping up the wall he’s talking to now that he’s jobless. Tyler, I admire the fact your so delusional that you got your partner believing your words but that ain’t gonna help when you take a knee to the face, when DT spears you and breaks you in half, and when you both are thrown away and not given a shit about anymore. And then what will happen after that? Will Emmy discard you like toys? Will Sena turn on you to finally grow? Will you finally realize you ain’t shit? I want to know what you think because if it’s the latter then I can’t wait to ruin it for you.

But that’s all for this group anyways. Because like I said this is a story that has two paths people want to see happen. But I like playing the fuck up, I like being the big bad wolf in all this that causes the derailment of stories. And that’s just what I’m gonna do. I’m gonna ruin their stories, I’m going to be the end goal they want. And I am going to show them why they shouldn’t mess with For the Minorities and our way of life. DT and I, we’ve faced others way better than these four shills and we sure as hell ain’t losing this early. We got more to do, we things to burn, and we got a company to usher into the promised lands. And if they want to try to take that from us, they can. But it ain’t gonna be pretty. And then they're going to see why FTM are the Problems.

Michael Bishop, Diantha Rosso, #BeLikeBea, 'Don' Hendrix, DT The Ruler, Felix Hartley and Tyler Kulina have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos April 26th 2023, 3:16 am by **Moongoose McQueen**

We are the Moo-ngo-osapiens

Oh, it’s true, it’s damn true. Moongoose McQueen, the man, the legend, the OWA Hall of Famer… is back! Just in time…….. for OWA5! A lot has changed though. How long has it been? A year and a half? You’re probably wondering! … Does he still have it? And I’m here to tell you that I still got it and more as I feel like I’m in the best shape of my life. No longer am I the man with a chip on his shoulder. I am no longer haunted by my demons, all doubt cast aside, I feel the same as when I debuted decades ago. Invincible, unstoppable, undeniable! No longer do I feel the need to prove anything, after all, I have long proven and solidified my presence in the industry. I have shown all my haters that I am a main event-worthy talent and draw. Oh how they all put me down, and now all they can do is look down because they can’t even look me in the eye and say it…. “I was wrong.”

But as I said, I don’t need your validation. Did you hear that pop? Did you hear the noise as I step through those curtains to a huge ovation that tore the roof off? I could barely hear the naysayers and the non-believers. I’d be a liar if I didn’t admit I miss that. I miss this. And most of all, I miss all of the OWA universe. I got the chance to see some old friends, some new faces. Thank you for the welcome, each and every single one of you that brought me back in with open arms…. Except for these four bitches.

I can see it. I can feel it. I’ve been through this multiple times. I get thrown into a match, and all people can think about it how I don’t deserve to be in it. How I shouldn’t be there, because these guys have been fighting weeks, months, to prove themselves to earn this opportunity, but your boy, Goose, just gets thrown in there, and there is a good chance that all those matches you’ve wrestled, all those promos you cut, all those fans who hands you’ve shaken, and the ass-eating of the boss you have done could end up being nothing. Because Moongoose McQueen was just inserted in there and would go on to win because he is so popular. Well, I him to tell you. I didn’t ask to be thrown into a match to get an opportunity to set myself up in a prime position for the Clash. I didn’t demand to get a shot for a unique opportunity. Hell let me break down how this conversation went down. “Hey, Moongoose, long time no talk, you want to do something for OWA5? I’m sure the fans will love it.” ….me, “sure.” And next thing you know, Kingdom100, I’m in gorilla position, I’m brought out, quite honestly, I don’t know what has been going on the past year or so, but next thing you know. Everyone loses their mind, because maybe, just maybe, you won’t just see the return of the Disaster Artist, you start imagining, fantasizing, coming up with scenarios of what I, Moongoose McQueen can bring to the table that no one else can provide.

Let’s be honest, I’m a trend-setter, a rule breaker, one of the most unpredictable man to revolutionize the game. Everything that you’ve seen and done by everyone else, simply following my steps because people know what works when I broke every single convention in the book that is “pro-wrestling,” and now that everyone is doing it, and OWA is still going strong 5 years and counting. Because let’s be honest with ourselves, the first year or two, when .. how you say, “the goose wasn’t loose,” OWA was just trying to be every other fed, but now stands out so far from every competition, we are untouchable. You’re welcome, OWA!

So in the matter of, should I be in this match? The answer is probably no. After all, I’ve already won the world title. I’ve already main evented Final Destination. I shouldn’t use my past accomplishments to jump the line, and based on what these jabronis have said, no one wants to see me anymore. Is there truth to that? After all, who doesn’t want to consider seeing Stark vs Moongoose for the title, we got history…. Or see me get my rematch with Jeff X, because last I checked, I still ain’t gotten him back from taking my title. Or it could be the first time in history, Moongoose McQueen, one on-one with the queen, Aria Jaxon, or the Revenant, Michael Bishop! Or last I checked, Moongoose McQueen and Kenny Drake, the score was one to one. Whoever walks out that match the winner, your boi Goose has something to bring to the table. Hell, how about I completely change the game, win the clash and for the first time ever, make Friday Nights Olympus my new home! To say that I am but the past, and thus, there is nothing new to see and get excited about, goes to show that you got your heads so far up your own asses, you can’t tell that Moongoose McQueen is simply just good for business.

So don’t blame the player, blame the game, even though yes, I effectively did change it, so you know what, go ahead. Hate me. Hate, hate, hate. Because guess what? I made my career in OWA hating everything, and if you guys are here arguing about how you ain’t hit your stride quite yet and got your world titles or your main events at Final Destination, then you all just ain’t hating enough. You ever think about that? Spend less time wondering why I’m there, and ask yourself, why am I not in the world title match at OWA5. And the answer is simple. You’re either not ready or you ain’t done enough to prove yourself. And guess what, gentleman, I’m here.

Crazy to think… Chris Sabertooth, a former world champion, he who should not be photographed, Maggell, Theodore Pavel, no particular nickname or accomplishment comes to mind, and Arata Asakura, just ain’t stacked enough. Because I don’t know if you four understand. This isn’t just a match for an advantage at the clash. This is it. This is the beginning of the road to Final Destination, and whoever wins this match is the first one in the clash and the favorite to win. And you know what? I don’t need that. I could have just been a surprise. I could have been number 1 in the clash, and nothing would change how badly I’d like to challenge for the world title during the biggest event of the year. I don’t need things handed to me. I’ll win it, regardless of the odds. But what it really is in the end, this is what OWA5 needs. OWA wants me on the headlines because maybe Moongoose McQueen rolls better off the tongue and puts butts in those seats. After all, is Chris Sabertooth anything special without Havoc? Is Arata Asakura anything without Golden Dawn or god powers? Is Maggell anything besides shock comedy because he called himself after a forbidden prophet for cheap heat? And is Theodore Pavel….anything special at all?

In the end, your gimmicks just don’t appeal. They don’t sell. You all ain’t special, and me being here, you all only have yourself to blame. Because um… ya bore… y’know? I can’t help but feel like I’m public enemy number one in this match. I can’t help be feel the tension of jealousy. I get, that as you watch me walk into that ring while the cries of fans screaming my name is deafening, all you can imagine is how your greatest opportunities are slipping away. Well, I was gone for a year and a half. Chris has a nice tag team title run. Arata broke multi-versal rules. Shouldn’t be doing that. Trust me, during the time I’ve been away, I’m a wizard now, and the multiverse is a terrifying concept we know very little of. Maggell also just returned, and Theodore Pavel… you’re still here, and that's what matters. Good for you. I’m sure someone will give you a reward for that. Don’t be ashamed of being the least successful Frontline member.

Point is, I’m back, I have some things I want to do like winning the clash. Ain’t done that yet. And you know, personal shit, cleansing evil and stuff. Nothing that involves you guys…. Well, maybe Theo. Something about that boi just aint right. And whether you like it or not, sorry, but not sorry. It’s not personal, it’s just business. If no one is stepping up, here I am, now which one of you sons of bitches is gonna take it from me! Instead of talking about me like a relic, how about you try to use me as a stepping stone before I bury you all in a rubble. The past, the past! Let’s talk about the future, and if you four, standing before me is the future of OWA, we just might not making it to OWA10..9…8…7…6.. Because Chris there lost his edge, Arata doesn’t got the fire or drive his “other-self” once had, Maggell is a fuckin’ meme, and THEODORE PAVEL, WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU EVEN HERE?!! Doesn’t matter. I’m sure every match needs an underdog, and deep down, I really would like to see you succeed. In an ideal situation, you’ll win and become the most decorated member of the Frontlines, but you are such a weirdo, it’s hard to root for you. Because while you see how everyone here is trying to think outside the box, and be a little more like Moongoose. You, Theodore Pavel, have gone full Moongoose. I don’t even go full Moongoose. You don’t ever go full Moongoose! You done gone full Moongoose, obsessing and saying weird shit. Like I did that once, lost some people, fought some a demon, and spent a good year in purgatory as a ghost. Son, you need you drop what makes you … you by about 60%, tone that shit down, and maybe, just maybe, you’ll get to where you want to be. Stay off twitter too, it ain’t doing you favors.

With that said, come on guys. Do better. I want to return to see to that the future of OWA is in good hands. If all the shit talk you can do is about what I use to do, then your wrestling skills in the ring will leave a lot to be desired. I can assure each and every single one of you in the locker room that I am back, and better than ever. A break does a body real good, and now I’m ready to continue where I left off. This ain’t a one time thing. This ain’t a cameo. This is the starring role of a life time for you all, as we begin this, Moongoose McQueen’s road to Final Destination. I’m not the one fortunate to be in this match. You all are the fortunate ones to be in it with me! And if you couldn’t get what you wanted while I was gone and assuming you all want the same thing. Titles, glory, respect, and recognition! It’s gonna get a lot harder now that I’m here. Step up, or fall behind. Don’t worry, there is always next year as long as I, Moongoose McQueen bring in the eyes.

Michael Bishop, Diantha Rosso, Scott Oasis, #BeLikeBea and 'Don' Hendrix have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos April 25th 2023, 11:12 pm by **Diantha Rosso**

Look at it.

Feel the weight of it in your hand.

Feel the smoothness of the leather, the intricate details of the gold plates.

Smell the scent of it, see the light glimmering off of the jewels that trace over it.

For five years, this has been my obsession. Very, very few of us remain from the old days, when OWA was just a dream of some people like Nasir Moore, Scott Oasis and Bob Taylor. I’m proud to say that I have been here since that first year. In fact, on the first recorded match that I can find, I faced one Aria Jaxon on the fourth ever episode of Kingdom. People come and go all the time in a sport like this one and I’m proud to say that I have had such longevity and success that most can’t say that they have had. It’s funny that people started calling me the Last Pillar because I have been around so long I almost feel like the First.

I’ve given up everything in pursuit of this title. My family abandoned me. Friends deserted me and stabbed me in the back. People rose up to make my life hell on earth just because they couldn’t stand the sight of me working my way up the ranks. I persevered and I claimed this title even when I wound up losing it, bringing it to me more than anyone else. People love to comment about how the reigns are not “legendary” and other moving goalposts that don’t apply to themselves, but I have proven my place among the greats. There is no questioning my legacy. There can never be any erasure of it, no matter how many declare that they will do so. Records can be eclipsed, but those who surpass them still pay homage to those that they overtake.

It has been no secret of mine that my greatest desire with this belt was to break Natalie Cage’s record of longest days held as well as the defense record of four that she shares with Jonetta Stone. I’ve held the title for…hmm…nearly a hundred days. When I’ve beaten Felix, it stands to reason that I will start to creep towards the business end of passing those records. Three successful defenses would be as many or more than any of the preceding five champions, including April, Stephanie, and Rebecca Filth. In terms of days held, I would probably surpass the likes of Jonetta Stone, Stephanie Matsuda, Rebecca Filth, Dulce Torres, and TyAnna Jupiter within just a few more months.

People can downgrade and criticize all the please, but these are things that are true. Outside interference? Other champions have done it before me, gleefully in some cases, and are celebrated why I am reviled. Why is that? Making friends with those in power? It’s no secret that people have slept their way into title shots and championship reigns. It was either treated with a shrug or a laugh. I make a good rapport with Llorona and I’m looked down upon. Is there a reason for that double standard?

In the end, I honestly don’t care.

Felix, I don’t think you understand me or why the things that have happened to you happened to you. For starters, it was never my intention to take the title from you. I planned everything that I did with the expectation that Rebecca or the Banshee would be the one left standing in the end. That is the first, last and ONLY time that you’ve ever been underestimated by me. I made no secret that the person who won the Chamber would be an immediate target and that they would not leave the arena with the title, and I made that happen. Did I feel a slight bit of annoyance that you stood up so valiantly? Did it take any of the satisfaction away that you wouldn’t go down easy? No.

In fact, I actually respect the resolve that you showed. You see, when I was in the same predicament, I was honestly a little too beaten up to really offer much resistance to Eris, who was much larger than me and hadn’t wrestled in at least two weeks. She didn’t have battle scars from a ladder match defending the Athena’s Cup or anything like that. She was fresh and ready, eager to pounce on someone who had just gone to war with coincidentally enough our current General Manager. And she won. And I never, EVER forgave her for it. Even after I choked the life out of her with a steel chain, I was not satisfied until she was gone.

You are very similar. Not the same, but very similar. You feel that same hatred coursing through your veins, don’t you? I keep you up at night, I keep you in the gym, I keep you from making the stupid decisions that other frauds who would challenge for a title would make. Late nights, wild parties. You’re more and more focused on taking from me than you’ve ever been in anything in wrestling, aren’t you? You want my head on a silver platter to display for your friends. You want to prove that you winning the chamber wasn’t some fluke.

For that, I’m actually happy.

Five long years.

It’s taken me every day of those years to reach the heights that you are dangerously close to realizing in less than two years. You tasted the gold, but you’ve never truly felt the weight of it, have you? You’ve held it, but it’s never held you. This title, and the Odyssey half of it’s forebearer…it has a way of changing most of the champions who acquire it. Stephanie went from a loud pompous bitch to a loud pompous bitch with a championship. April Song went from a relentless assassin trying to finish her story to a hokey, boring, bland shell of a woman. The Banshee went from being one of the most feared and dangerous beings in existence to a chaperone for an ugly vampire and a witch who I’ve seen do nothing but cry about her dead friend every time I open social media. Your buddy Rebecca Filth went from being an oustanding Openweight Champion into a complete fucking fraud, recruiting you and bullying Angelina to join her. She plotted. She schemed. She cheated.

Yet you applaud and love her but have nothing but contempt for me. So what’s good for the goose isn’t for the gander in Thotyssey land, is it?

Jonetta Stone went from an elegant, petty woman to a brute willing to slaughter anything that got in her way. Natalie Cage went from a brutal thug to a gutless, sophomoric coward who could only rely on insults and reputation and mystique to carry her in her final days as a champion. The belt has changed me too. I used to be okay with losing. I used to be fine falling in a fair fight. Even when I lost to Dulce at Final Destination all that time ago, I could live with it. I could deal with falling against Jonetta Stone. I could stomach losing.

But I can’t anymore.

This title corrupted me. It kept calling out to me, wanting me to hold it. It has a grip on my very fucking soul. And I’ve sacrificed everything to heed the call. My friends. My family. My reputation. Endorsements, opportunities away from wrestling. My entire life has been devoted to the pursuit of this championship…and everything that I have left will go into keeping it.

You’ve already seen bits and pieces of this. You have seen how far I’m willing to go, yes? I have sent everything at you to try to keep you away from me. Not out of fear, not out of malice, but out of understanding. I know that once people get a hold of this belt, that once they feel that leather and that beautiful golden plate, it does very funny things to them. DT and Raivo and Maggall? When the first two came, it was a declaration. When the servant of Allah came, that was a warning.

What I’m trying to tell you essentially is that I will not stop at anything to keep this title around my waist. As determined and certain of victory as you are, I’m just as determined to keep it and just as certain that I will make that a reality. I was willing to make a deal with a literal demon to open up hell and let him dominate Earth just to keep this prize. I have to ask you, and think very hard on this: how far do you think I will be willing to go if my hand is forced?

I have not been trying to avoid you. I’ve been trying to keep you from going down the path you’re going down, the path of revenge. There’s no fun here, there’s no joy. There’s no satisfaction. There’s only a thirst for more. No matter what you do, no matter how thoroughly you dominate someone, you’ll still want more. You just feel this burning inside, this fire that can’t be quenched no matter how long ago that was. You left a scar on my body with a bullet, I’ve left a scar on your very soul…one that will never be made to fade with cosmetics. No matter how much you think you can bury or erase me….a little part of me will always exist in you, even if it’s deep down in places you don’t want to fucking talk about.

I want you to understand that there is not much worth redeeming left in me. I’m a bitch, an obsessive, deceitful, horrible human being. But when I think about wrestling you, I understand that it’s not something that I can do in the regular way. I can’t just have people do this and that for me. Because i Know what you want and I know that you will keep coming. My goal is to make sure that you never come again. Do you understand what I’m telling you? One of the biggest misconceptions that people have about me is that I enjoy violence, I enjoy hurting people. While I do get a bit of gratification, a feeling of euphoria and all when I’ve hurt people…it’s almost instantly followed by a pang of sadness.

I didn’t want this.

I didn’t want to be remembered for this.

I wanted to be the hero, the one who saved the OWA Women’s World Championship….not the one who sullied its reputation.

I wanted to be the savior, not the last horseman of the apocalypse.

I didn’t want to face you because I think that you’re a better wrestler than me. I don’t want to face you because I know that in far too many ways for me it’s like looking in the mirror. You’ll never understand so I won’t bother explaining, but for me, this may as well be Me vs Eris inverted. I think about all the horrible things that I’ve done to you, every hurdle that I’ve thrown at you and you’ve managed to get to this point. And I respect you a lot for this. I really do. And you deserve more than anyone else on this quickly decaying roster this title that I’m holding. You endured the pain of losing Jeff but you have him back now.

I’m glad you two had a chance to have a lot of fun. OWA 5 will not be fun.

I know what the world wants at the end of the show in Madison Square Garden. They want confetti falling from the sky. They want you out there, celebrating your victory, holding up the Undisputed Women’s Championship belt while Jeff X Holds up the X and his championship! They want the Dojo Bros to be in tow with that airheaded half-breed Italian slut Emmanuelle holding up the tag titles while that lunatic Moongoose McQueen is the new Outlaw Champion! They want Chris and Hana holding hands and plotting how each can be a bigger fucking fraud now that Havoc’s in Hell where he belongs. They want little Marie to be the dumb bitch that could and win her first title.

THEY WANT THE FAIRY TALE ENDING FOR YOU AND ALL YOUR FUCKING FRIENDS AT THE EXPENSE OF ME AND FOR THE MINORITIES!

THEY WANT TO CLOSE WHAT SHOULD BE A CELEBRATION OF MY HARD WORK BUILDING THIS FUCKING PLACE, MY BLOOD, MY SWEAT, MY TEARS, MY BONES GOING INTO THE VERY FOUNDATION OF TIHS PLACE WITH A NOSTALGIA FEST OF HAS BEENS AND NEVER WERES AND FUCKING DEGENERATES!

THAT'S THE FAIRY TALE ENDING THAT YOU AND ALL THOSE PEOPLE WANT!

AND IM NOT FUCKING GIVING IT TO YOU! FAIRY TALES AREN’T REAL! HAPPY ENDINGS DON’T HAPPEN ALL THE FUCKING TIME!

There’s not going to be a fairy tale. Donovan T, The Master and Ruler of Men, and Raivo, the most gifted athlete in OWA today, are going to retain the titles. They’re going to pack those little Dojo Brats and their Italian-Japanese-American Hussy back to Carlos’s playground set so they can have their little play dates there. They’re going to DESTROY those annoying pissants from Olympus. They will walk out the Tag Team Champions of the World, even if I have to personally make sure of it. Maggall, The Hand of God, the mightiest powerhouse in the history of OWA, is going to squash those other losers and become the NEW OWA Outlaw Champion.

And I am going to make sure that you leave with nothing. Since you’re back to fucking Jeff, I hope he has a nice spot in the back reserved to watch what I do to you. Hell, I’m honestly hoping that he can sit ringside to watch. I’m going to take everything from you. Your health obviously enough. Your dignity. Your honor. Your ambitions. Your dreams. I’m going to turn them all to dust. People love to bring up Donovan and Raivo and Maggall and Mr. Reese, but they all forget that I have been doing this for a long time, before I even got to OWA. And they all know that when I am pushed to do so, I AM VERY ADEPT AT HURTING PEOPLE.

All my life has been spent learning how to hurt people. This isn’t a part time hustle. This isn’t a launching pad into multimedia opportunities or something I do to try to get noticed by movie directors. I didn’t come here because I failed at something else. This is all I ever wanted to do with my life. Do you understand how fucking demented and heartless someone has to be to be willing to be slammed and slam other people on canvas, wood, and steel for fourteen years?

You have no fucking clue.

I was hoping that it wouldn’t get to this point. I was hoping that I could spend this time preparing for a serious challenge from Skylar to redress that little slip-up in my first defense. But we’re here. You wanted to be here, you’ve earned your way here, and now I will give you the prize for all your efforts. It’s not the OWA Women’s Undisputed World Championship that is your prize. The only prize that awaits you is more pain. More loss, more anguish. More despair. Haven’t you given enough already? Haven’t you felt enough sorrow, enough bitterness? Do you really want to go further down the path that you’re on?

If you don’t, stay home. If you do, come to New York. I don’t have Timberland boots or Black Air Forces to stomp on you with, but I’m pretty sure my wrestling boots will suffice. I will not be deterred if you keep getting up from everything I do to you. Oh no. I’ll just knock you back down and wait for you to get back up.

And once it’s over and all the dust has cleared….the same image that you all saw at Hardcore Havoc will be even better this time around:

Maggall, the NEW OWA Outlaw Champion, carrying me on his shoulders.

DT The Ruler and Raivo, the UNDISPUTED World Tag Team Champions, holding up their titles.

Mr. Giovante Reese, beaming like a proud papa, clapping and smoking a cigar, pleased with how far we’ve come.

And at the top of this pyramid of Black Excellence…who else but me? Still the OWA Women’s Wrestling Champion of this Earth. Still the author of Thotyssy’s pain. Still the ruler of Odyssey. STILL THE MOST COMPLETE WRESTLER IN THE WORLD! STILL THE ONE THING THAT YOU AND YOUR WHORE FRIENDS CAN’T FUCK WITH! STILL THE ONLY PERSON WILLING TO DO ANY AND EVERYTHING TO MAINTAIN MY GRIP ON THIS BELT AND THIS COMPANY!

And make no mistake, I have this very company by the fucking balls. Havoc is gone, FTM will win the Men’s Clash, hold at least two titles, and will run Kingdom and Olympus. And me, all by myself on Odyssey holding the very future in my hands. On the fifth anniversary show to commemorate OWA’s history, three things will happen:

They will honor the past.

They will acknowledge the dominance of the present.

And they will cower in fear of the inevitable future.

The one constant of all this time in women’s wrestling here, the one and only Lioness.

I am the past, present and the future of this sport.

I AM NO LONGER JUST ODYSSEY, I AM OWA ITSELF!

You wanted this chance to finish the story. You wanted this war. You’re going to have it, and by the time I’m through, you will not stand tall. You will crawl like the little worm that you are back to the dregs of the gutter.

I will close the book on the Whoritude Era of OWA with my iron fist. And there’s nothing your friends, your walking dildo of a boyfriend or you can do to stop it.

Michael Bishop, Elijah Hampton, #BeLikeBea, 'Don' Hendrix, DT The Ruler and Felix Hartley have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos April 25th 2023, 10:05 pm by **Lazarus Arjen**

BOOK OF RATS: CHAPTER XIII
“The Killing Fields.”

It was dark. It was quiet.

Normally the city of New Orleans would be alive; traffic noise mixed with the belligerent noises of drunks partying on Bourbon Street would fill the night air, but not on this night.

Gentle rain fell from the sky, keeping everyone inside - be it of their dwellings, or of the bars that they would usually spill out of and carry on in the streets. But those streets, wet with falling rain, were empty - were clean - were quiet.

We transition away from the streets, to the open mouth of a storm drain that fed into the Mississippi River within the French Quarter. Inside of this storm drain were the Rats. The members of the Seventh Ward; OZIAS standing at the large oval opening, staring off into the night - watching as the rain fell onto the city in the background. Victoria Poirier was with him, her arms crossed over her chest - cradling herself. Her eyes were in the direction of the river, but her head was somewhere else…

And then there was Lazarus. He sat in an old, rusted steel chair in the middle of this storm drain, just feet behind OZIAS and Victoria - right in front of the camera that filmed this video. Even though the temperatures were in the mid seventies, Lazarus always wore his hooded sweater with the hood brought up over his head. The strands of hair that were visible were wet - presumably from the rain. His eyes fixated on the camera before him, and his stare was as cold - as menacing - as it always was. …

“Is it the attention we crave, or is it the satisfaction of hearing the desperate pleas of why? This goes to show you how little you actually pay attention. The ‘Ruler’ of a division with blinders on to the only legitimate threat to the championship brings up more questions pertaining to you, than it does to me. Are you really that full of yourself that you don’t consider one of the most dominant men in the history of this company in Darkane, and a man who knows no limits - a man who holds no regards for human life and is more than willing and capable of severing every major artery in your body - as legitimate threats? Or is it stupidity? But no matter the explanation of your lack of situational awareness when it comes to challenges from outside your narrow field of vision; you wouldn’t ask stupid things such as ‘why’, when Darkane and I stood in front of Olympus cameras and laid out our plan and intentions. It’s in the water they serve to you on Kingdom, though. Olympus is a second rate brand, not worth the time or brain power for you on Kingdom; that is something they have drilled into those feeble little brains of yours to make you truly believe that you’re alone in this company.”

“You want to know why we laid you and Ravio out? To remind you that there’s more out there than just the insignificant and lackluster teams on Kingdom that you need to worry about. We did it to remind you of the killers on Friday Nights that lurk in the dark, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. But you need not concern yourself with the why. You should be more concerned about the remaining time you have left before OWA 5. I get it; you’re riding high off of a win over the Queens - but should you be? I’m not going to give you grief about Dianatha coming in for the save; but to openly brag about the victory when you looked shaky at best against a team with one foot in the grave? It doesn’t speak too highly on your quest to convince everyone you’re as dominant as you claim to be. And neither will childish hygiene jokes; but you’re not above reaching out and taking the low hanging fruit are you? The easy insults, the easy quips - like, for example, you bring up Boiling Point - which I predicted. I predicted you would hold that ‘win’ over my head, it’s an easy route to go - despite the fact that it’s not only inaccurate, but irrelevant. Hard to have a physical ‘win’ over someone who walked away. But I guess you hold the ‘win’ over Chris Sabertooth as well, despite the fact his neck was snapped and he was left for dead? The only person you beat was a weak, inferior Alex Carter - who I left to fucking die. As I previously said - you and Raivo are champions because you seized an opportunity. You saw the open door; Chris was dead. Jeff was emotionally distraught. I was gone. All that was left was a near-dead Alex Carter, and defeating him was academic. Think for a second, Donovan. If Chris and Jeff were still actively fighting in the match - had I not walked away from the entire match - would you be the champion right now? The jury is still out on that, no one knows -- but for the egregious claims of me ‘knowing’ things about you, as if you’re an intimidating bad ass, I will set the record straight and I will see to it that I will do to you now what I should have done to you then.”

“We pissed you off? We motivated you? Good. Now you feel just a shred of how Darkane and I have felt, sitting over on Olympus and having to preoccupy ourselves with ripping Gypsy’s to shreds and making Elijah Hampton’s life a living hell. You now feel just a shred of how we’ve felt, having to watch you and Raivo duck your duties as champions while you fucked around with thots, whores, demons and other stupid, insufferable shit that happens on your cesspool of a brand. I want you to bring that hate, Donovan. I want you to bring that anger, that motivation, and that desire to bloody your hands; because it’s a fucking fight that we want. We could walk into your little playground at any time and rip those titles from your clutches - just like we did at Kingdom One Hundred, but where’s the fun in that? We want to make you eat those words, we want to stuff them down your fucking throat - along with your teeth, and maybe even your tongue once I cut it out. We want you to come out with everything you fuckin’ got, because WHEN we walk away with those titles you and Raivo have held hostage - I don’t want to hear any fucking excuse from you or your partner. So while you stand in your ivory tower looking down at us Rats, while you’re formulating some smart ass response, while you’re figuring out a way to twist my words - I want you to stop. I want you to turn around and give your title, Raivo’s title, a last look - because at OWA Five, no matter what is said prior to the date, no matter what you attempt to do during the match; the only outcome of this match is the Seventh Ward becoming tag team champions. Instead of falling into the same old, same old as you always do - Donovan; instead of trying to come off as intimidating, bad ass all while being ‘wise’ - maybe you should figure out whether you want to let those titles go easy, or if you want Darkane and I to turn this match into a fucking slaughter. Either way is fine with us.”

“And that’s not coming from ego. That’s coming from a neutral place. See, I truly don’t care whether either of you live or die at OWA Five. I truly don’t care whether or not you heed my warnings beforehand, or mock and ridicule myself and Darkane because it seems to be the easiest thing to do. Of course no one is going to acknowledge the fact that they’re walking into a dangerous match, with the two most dangerous individuals in this company, so they’re going to puff their chests out and downplay the severity of the situation. They’re going to shoot off little quips that they think are clever, but the desperation reeks. Desperation coming in the form of ‘I can’t think of anything with substance to say, so I’m going to say they’re dirty and unwashed’. Desperate to hang onto that throne you sit on so confidently, desperate to have the world cling onto your every word - to see you and Donovan as the greatest tag team in the world, but that is the furthest thing from reality. I’ve already gone over your opportunism and how it assisted you in picking up the titles in the first place, but the bold claims you and DT have laid out, aren’t doing you any favors. For example, when you said everything Darkane and I have done looks like nothing compared to what you and DT have done. What exactly have you done? Ended the reign of Chris and Jeff without actually beating them? Failed to win a ‘Great War’ and were ordered off of the battlefield? Beat up two retired ‘legends’ who were better off on the sidelines and behind the commentary booth than they are in the ring at this point in time? Beat up two young kids from the Dojo who had no business being in the ring with you in the first place? I don’t need to bring up Darkane’s Championship reign. I don’t need to bring up the fact that I’ve sliced my way through the roster, carving my name into the foundation of this company in the most gruesome of fashion. This isn’t ego, this isn’t arrogance - these are facts, Raivo - you’re just too stupid to know it.”

“Stupidity is no excuse, and you don’t even need to admit that you don’t pay attention to any team - be it the lone team on Olympus, or any team on any other brand - because we all know that you have your head so far up your own ass. But you know what happens, right? Those rose-colored glasses you wear that prevent you from seeing and acknowledging all of the negative things that are quickly approaching your life, they turn to shit. You can’t ignore the inevitable, Raivo, no one can. What I mean by that is - we said we were hunting for those titles, we said that we were going to make a statement - and we did exactly that. We made a fucking example out of YOU when I left you at my fucking feet. Is that still considered doing nothing? The inevitable is, and always has been, the Seventh Ward coming into your home and challenging for those titles. You want to know what I think, Raivo? -- Actually, I don’t care if you do or don’t. -- The events of Kingdom 100 embarrassed you. You and DT like to think you come off as untouchable. You both like to think you’re both head and shoulders over everyone in this company, but Darkane and I left you both broken like we have everyone else that’s crossed our paths. We shattered that aura that you two have built for yourselves, and now you’re left scrambling - grasping onto anything that you think you can use as a life preserve. You know in your hearts that the sands of time are slipping through the hourglass; that your reign is slipping away from you just as it almost did against two vets on a joyride to relive the golden days of their career. So in order to try and redeem yourselves, you just shoot off at the mouth, saying whatever pops up into that brain of yours. Anything to make yourselves seem like credible champions; but you’re failing at convincing anyone in the days leading up to the match - just like you’ll fail in the match.”

“Desperate, insecure, hypocritical - three traits that are unbecoming of a champion. You say Darkane and I come at this with ego, when you’ve made your entire career being an ‘egotistical son of a bitch’, as you’ve bluntly called us. There have been no ego’s from us, just cold - hard - truth. Just a warning of the impending destruction and downfall of the self-accredited ‘best team’ in OWA. Raivo, those three traits don’t send the message of champions who know they’re in control. In fact, it’s the opposite. You can act tough, you can deny everything I’m saying - which you undoubtedly will - but it won’t make any damn difference. See, Darkane and I are coming to MSG with every intention of taking the tag titles, and will stop at nothing. You think pain tolerance won’t help? We’ll see who’s left standing after the hellacious battle that ensues. Will it be the desperate, insecure, insufferable hypocrite with the big mouth? Or will it be the two war-hardened, ultra violent psychopaths who do this shit for FUCKING FUN?! The answer is obvious, Raivo. You’re not stepping into the ring with just two ‘dirty white guys’ from Olympus. You’re walking into this match with two killers who have every intention of making this match a gory horror movie. And - well - we all know who dies first…”

“Typically, the weakest would be the first ones weeded out - but we’re going to do the Dojo Bros a favor. Instead of gutting them first, we’re going to allow them to watch what we do to FTM; maybe it will have them rethink their life choices, Kulina specifically. ‘Take a seat, boys’ was your advice to us? You have barked up the wrong tree, Kulina. Darkane and I could snap your neck in the blink of an eye and not feel a single bit of remorse about it. We’re not the type of people that someone like you warns. You’re still a pup with an inferior bark trying to intimidate a Pitbull and a Rottweiler, how do you think it’s going to work out for you? I truly don’t give a fuck who you train with, nor do I care about how this could be a redemption story after all of the failure you and your partner have achieved. You want to suggest that we wait our turn, while you and Sena have done this dance with FTM before and were handled? I get it, though. You need to save face. You need to at least fire out one video, promising to right the wrongs of your career, to patch up the holes of your sinking ship and to steer it into the promised land. But do you actually believe the words that have probably been spoon fed to you by Matsuda and-or Emmanuelle? There’s a hint of shakiness in your voice, Tyler. And as your entire spiel unraveled, after all of your empty promises have been made - after all of your cliches have been used - all you have left are school yard insults just like DT and Raivo. Cutting our wrists, listening to MCR, that you’re going to fold us like chairs. Insulting you, suggesting you have half a brain cell would be generous because it’s clear that you do not, the way you follow the same old, tired formula everyone else has tried. But, I’m going to do you a solid Ty. You and your Dojo brother…”

“I’m going to let you watch as Darkane and I fucking eviserate FTM. I’m going to let you and Sena watch as we mutilate, as we maim, as we rip the so-called ‘best tag team’ to fucking shreds. And then - while you gaze upon us, with the same eyes that are currently widened with all of the hope and aspirations in the world, you will see the two of us covered head to toe in the blood of the men masquerading around as champions. Then, it will be your choice. To join the slaughter, which is exactly what it will be, or to exit stage left with your lives and careers intact. And that isn’t an empty promise or idle threat; that is a guarantee. You and everyone else have turned a blind eye to Olympus and it shows; questioning and acting surprised to see Darkane and I standing side by side and even throwing out little shots at us betraying one another. But know this; while Darkane and I have fought to the death previously - we engage in this war together. And together we will see to it that death turns away from us, and fixates itself on the reign of FTM, and everyone else involved in this match. You are no exception.”

“The four of you do not understand, or grasp the very real reality that’s just days away. Darkane and I aren’t here to fill out the card. We’re not some last minute addition, or novelty act. Darkane and I stormed into Kingdom with one purpose; to make the Tag Team championships our own, and to butcher anyone that tries to stop us. We’re going to turn MSG and New York city in its entirety into the killing fields; and that is where the four of you will take your final breath.”

“And just before your eyes close for that final goodnight, the last thing you will see is the Seventh Ward becoming tag team champions.”

VaeVictisBD, Michael Bishop, Darkane, Elijah Hampton, #BeLikeBea, Rebecca Filth, 'Don' Hendrix and have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos April 25th 2023, 9:52 pm by **Stark**

OWA 5 PROMO TWO
OWA Promos - Page 6 Shinsuke-Nakamura-WWE-Smackdown

You'll stare at the sun but not a mirror, Aria? I knew you were washed. I knew you were washed. You're out here quoting the new Taylor Swift album when Beyonce dropped an album at the same time last year! This is what you choose now? Well I can't be surprised. You're just a rich, white, out of touch wine mom, you chose that "suburban life", no wonder you're repping a sad old hag like Taylor Swift instead of the hard-working sweatshop-running Empress, Queen Bey. It's just a result of the lifestyle you chose in the last few years.

You see I got nothing against the love a mother holds for her child, in general, but when it comes to you Aria? It would be better if that piece of shit was never born. Why? What got into you? This is the year 2023, not 1923. What kind of person, what kind of PROFESSIONAL would throw away such a good promising career - for what? For a CHILD? A screaming, crying, shitting baby. That's what you walked out on the wrestling industry for, Aria. A soft little sack of tears, piss, and shit. That is what you chose for your life Aria.

At first you just threw away your career but at least you still had your reputation, your legacy, the good memories.

Then you decided to return and burn the rest of that to dust too.

You should've stayed home, lady. You should have stayed home. You're not going to be walking back into Kingdom calling yourself the Queen of anything when the only thing you're the Queen of now is changing diapers at home. Wine Moms don't belong in a wrestling ring, they belong at HOME. You chose the kitchen, Aria. You spent your entire career moaning and bitching about women getting their due or whatever delusional feminist bullshit you were trying to infect the wrestling industry with - and then when it came down to it, the second the going got tough, the second you lost a step, the second you weren't the same dominant force you were - you got knocked up and took your ball, you went home and you settled, you gave birth to a disgusting cretin and you put your career on ice.

You should have left it on ice. Because you returning now, you returning in the era of Stark, that's not going to work out for you lady. You're not who you used to be, you're not at that top level anymore. You haven't been for a LONG time. And you know what, now that I think about it, now that I'm thinking about it hard, I gotta ask you again - were you ever really that good?

Let's take a look at your career real quick Aria. I'm going to completely discount EAW Empire because who gives a shit about dominating the mountain of mediocrity known as the EAW Women's Division. We all know that girls like you and Cloud didn't matter at all until you guys finally decided to step up to the men and do some real damage. Oh congrats, you were better than all four of the Ava sisters and became the longest reigning EAW Women's Champion? That's worth even less than the OWA Icarus Championship is worth right now with El Landerson competing for the belt. Aria, you had one failed run on Voltage back then where you couldn't even capture the god damned Hardcore Championship from whoever the champion was, probably George Copeland or Clark Duncan. You were at that low of a level where you can come off of the EAW Women's Championship and then not even hold your own against bottom of the barrel filth like the midcard of Voltage.

You were garbage from the start and you know what? You would have always been. You wouldn't be the legend you are, you wouldn't have the reputation and respect you have, you wouldn't have that foolish unearned confidence you have right now…

If it wasn't for me. I made you Aria. I gave you the chance to succeed that you never got anywhere else. You achieved mediocrity at best and failed everywhere else at worst except for one place, the one place I took a bet on you, the one place that wasn't afraid to let even someone like Aria Jaxon get a chance at the big big time, the one place that I am going to replace OWA with once I burn this place to the ground, the place where I allowed Aria Jaxon to become a legend…

Strong Style Wrestling.

You owe your career to me, Aria, so before you start showing yourself having tea with Cloud talking shit like a dumb little bitch, how about you straighten your fucking attitude, get a clue, show me some respect, and say "THANK YOU, MR. STARK!" for everything that the opportunity I gave you in SSW has done for your career.

Where would you have been without me, Aria? Huh? Would you have just been another career midcarder in EAW? Another good few reigns with the EAW Women's Championship and you go into that Hall of Fame? That would've been nice? Or maybe you just go to OWA regardless. Well, we saw how your OWA run worked out for you at the start there. You can deny and deflect, be willfully ignorant and pretend like it didn't happen, but it doesn't matter. Facts don't care about your feelings Aria, and history is history - you were getting that ass whooped by the likes of Savannah Sunshine and HENDRIX out here in Season One. That's the level you were performing at, you fucking bum, so don't try to talk big in front of me. Don't try to call me a "loser" when losing is all you were ever good for before I made you a better wrestler, a better person, in Strong Style Wrestling.

That's really all I have left to say about you, because anything else that comes out of your mouth is just the sad and pathetic cries of a woman past her prime - word to Don Lemon - a woman who doesn't have what it takes to succeed in my world anymore. Because this time around Aria, there won't be that golden ticket for you waiting in SSW. I think it's time I put my efforts towards rehabbing another bum and turning them into the stuff of legends. I think I'll even pick someone who's better now than you were back then when I gave you that SSW contract - I think I'll put my efforts towards someone worthier than you ever were - someone like Ryo Sakazaki.

"A return to form.
Renewed hope.
A chance to start again."

You're not going to get any of these things Aria. I mean, let's not forget that your first match back was a resounding loss - you and Cloud got shown the door by Raivo and DT The Ruler and as they should. You two hasbeens had no business at all stepping into the ring against two of the standard bearers of this era. You guys should have realized that you had no business coming back at all. You came back and took a hard loss and just proved that you don't have what it takes to compete anymore. Yet because Oasis is one of the dumbest fucking promoters I've seen in my life, he rewards your failure with a title match against ME. STARK. THE BEST IN THE WORLD TODAY. You know what though? I should thank him actually, I should thank him for making this match so easy by putting someone as washed as you in the ring with me and giving me a free pass to retain my championship.

You know what Aria? You should have just went home and STAYED home when you had the chance. You should have known those boots didn't even DESERVE to get laced up again when you had to bow out against someone as low on the totem pole as JD Damon, but shit, is it any surprise that the hussy who started her OWA career with a loss to Savannah Sunshine would have to end that same career with a snoozefest against a bum like JD Damon? Of course it's no surprise. It's par for the course when it comes to Aria Jaxon.

So I'm gonna be a nice guy to you yet again Aria. It's what my mentor Brian Daniels would've wanted for me after all. I'm going to take a page out of my fellow GOAT's playbook, my man Gervonta "Tank" Davis, who also had to beat up on a little bitch who didn't know when to stop talking shit and had to be beat down and humbled. Aria since you're such a family woman these days, since you were so willing to throw away your career to be a breeder, I'll give you a warning. Leave your family at home. Don't bring them to see what's going to happen to you at OWA5 when you try to get in the way of Stark's plan, when you try to bring an end to Stark's era, when you try to EXIST in STARK'S WORLD. Leave them all at home, your pops, your moms, your brothers and sisters - that one armed cripple you call a husband and especially your precious baby son. Aria, if you bring your child to OWA5, I can't guarantee his safety. I can't guarantee that if I go outside the ring and see that baby throwing a tantrum in the front row while I'm beating the shit out of his mom, that I won't do something to it. And shit, it'll end up being for the best. Just like you should have never returned, just like you should've stayed at home and left us with the good memories of when you weren't a washed up piece of shit, I'll do you and your kid a favor, and I'll put him down now while we can still remember him fondly before he turns into a second generation failure like Otto Nova. I'll do you a favor and put your son to rest while his life still matters, just like your career once used to matter, and now you're just a legacy act that Oasis needs to wheel out for a rating in Season 5.

This kind of shit won't happen once I rebuild OWA in my image.

But how can I talk about the failures of OWA without mentioning the biggest success story there is in this company's history? Jeff X!

Jeff, let me be the first to welcome you to the new phase of your career. The part of your career where you've hit that first peak that you will never rise to again. Your glorious win in the main event of Final Destination where you finally captured the OWA World Championship - you will NEVER be that good, that popular, or that important again - and that's okay! Because you've found the secret key to staying relevant… dying and coming back to life! Of course that's a time-tested trope innovated by yours truly, the OWA World Champion Stark, that has been bit-off and imitated by shitstains like Nate Cage and Kenny Drake, but no one does it like me. I do it the best, and since I'm the best at it, I think I'm the most qualified to tell you that your little stunt here Jeff? It wasn't good. I mean come on. What happened? You fucking tripped and fell into Hell? You didn't even do a flip on your way down! And what were the consequences? What were the consequences? A white whore mourning your death for two weeks before she immediately moves on to a fat piece of shit like Edward Softly? You were gone for two fucking weeks before you came back and you proved that you were at the lowest point of your career because you decided the best thing you could do with your second shot at life after coming back from Hell, the best thing you could think of was… beating up Morgan Shaw? Congrats Jeff. You died and came back to life and now you're at the in-ring level of someone who's been sitting on a desk for the last five years and more.

You're another piece of shit that gets a free chance every time he fails. Yours might even be more egregious than Aria's because she at least had the decency to fuck off for a few years before she came back to try again. You've done nothing but get beat by people on your level and beat up on small time talents like Noah Krieger. You lost your belt to Arata and failed everyone around you, YOU failed and let the Black Sun take over and become the Golden Dawn, a threat that you were never able to put away for good. Just like you weren't able to put Havoc away for good either. You always lose when it counts and then parade yourself as a hero for doing the bare minimum. You lost your own life in the process and show no shame or regret, you just come back out and run a victory lap again beating up on a helpless commentator like the god damn criminal you are. Let's think back on your biggest failure anyways, when you lost your OWC to Arata Asakura. You got scared of a god damn Abholos mask and look at him now. He was fucking your girl while you were burning in Hell!

Jeff, it's really this simple. If you're the top guy of Kingdom, if you're the face of the brand, the face of the company, if the culmination of five years of OWA's existence is YOU… then by God it's long overdue that I put this place to rest once and for all.

Don't worry Kenny, I'll get to you soon, but I don't think it's really worth my time addressing such a clear side character like you yet. You've coasted on being a legacy member of OWA for too long after one good run a few years ago when OWA was considered to be at its weakest point. I don't need the King of Season Two out here trying to act like he can compete with the man who just main evented Kingdom 100 and is going to main event #OWA5. You couldn't even main event Final Destination when you were the OWA World Champion, you lost that distinction to fucking Bull Connors and god knows where that fat piece of shit even is these days. So I'll wait until you open your mouth and say something stupid before I even mention your name again. You belong in the past, and trust me when Kingdom becomes mine after I put all these 'heroes' to rest, you ain't gonna be the General Manager for much longer.

Now let's get back to this fucking guy:

26, 37, 43, 69, 112, 420, 7000.

Shut the fuck up.

Mike I don't know how to tell you this but you just gotta get with the program man. You're not John Wick. You're not Solid Snake. You're not Marcus Fenix. You're just an idiot with a gun. You're a fake tough guy. You can't handle it when the going gets tough. You've never been on the real winning side of a war. Huh? What have you really done? In the Great War, it was Kenny Drake who had to sacrifice his life and leave a family without their father for a year, that wasn't a victory for the Frontline - for an entire YEAR you left a wife sleeping alone in her bed and a kid who couldn't be picked up by their daddy. Dimensional Warfare you took an utter resounding defeat to the hands of the Golden Dawn and you had to be bailed by EMMANUELLE! EMMANUELLE! "WHAT ABOUT ME, WHAT ABOUT EMMANUELLE?" THAT'S WHO HAD TO SAVE THE FRONTLINE! You haven't done shit! Great War 3, again, it took EVERYTHING you had and you still had to sit there and watch your bro Jeff X fall into Hell while you could do nothing about it!

I want to know! I want to know for real! What kind of soldier are you? What kind of fighter are you? What kind of man are you?! Five years of being a bottom bitch in this company, five years of being Mr. Outlaw Champion, five years and you capture the OWC only to lose it to Jason Long! Jason Long! Jason Long! That's your legacy, Bishop - so don't talk to me about mine. Fake tough guy like you talking about toe tags like you're some military man when in reality you peaked as an amateur MMA fighter who couldn't cut it in the pro leagues so he had to come over to EAW and be Malcom Jones' hype man. That's your fucking career Bishop. That's who you are. Bottom of the barrel. The shit I need to scrape off of my fucking shoe. Don't talk to me about JET, that promotion has never outdrawn SSW in its entire life so I don't know where you're making up that statistic from, don't talk down about the first company where you got to feel like anything more than enhancement talent and act like the other company that looks like a Japanese Pleasure House is better. Why didn't you go to JET then Bishop if it's so much better than SSW huh? They would've let you in considering you definitely don't got what a man like me has got between my legs you pussy. Fake tough guy.

You remind me of Steven Seagal talking about toe tags like you've ever served, fake valor ass motherfucker. Know your damn place.

Talk about how many times I had to try before I could win this World Championship, but weren't you in the same boat? I got my shot for free and hell yeah I'm happy with that. Fuck I look like going through a 40 Man Clash of the Titans to get my due?! Am I an idiot?! You worked so hard just to take this title off of Azumi Goto but before you can go around saying that you had a great reign, a great reign is one that has a great start and a great end, not one that starts by you beating an old hag past her prime and one that ends with you going out sad to a deceased man and a fat fuck on a fuzzy pink leash. You are a failure in every sense of the word.

I wanted to offer you the same chance I gave Aria to leave her wife and kids at home but nah, bring your Becca, bring your Lita, I'll do to them what I'll do to you in our match you shitty little punk, I'll leave them in a bloody mess just like I'm going to do to you, you don't understand me Bishop, you don't get me at all, you think I'm just fun and games but I'm more methodical than anyone you've ever dealt with in your life and I'm not these villain of the weeks like Havoc or Arata Asakura, I've been at this shit for my entire LIFE - and it's going to culminate at OWA5.

Every last hero will fall to their knees and pray at the feet of Majin fucking Stark, the man who's going to walk out of OWA5 not just with the OWA World Championship, but with the keys to OWA as a whole, I'm going to reshape this entire fucking WORLD in my image and just like every other "Great War" that you've failed to win Bishop, you're going to fail to win this one too, because as good of an amateur fighter that you are…

Stark, Scott Oasis, Elijah Hampton, #BeLikeBea, "Killer Bee", DT The Ruler and Felix Hartley have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos April 25th 2023, 9:47 pm by **Dr. Bethany Hastings**

COMMAND

As far back as she could remember, the rhythmic tick-tick-tick of a metronome was always a source of stability and comfort to the mind of Dr. Bethany Hastings. A soothing, reliable sound that provided some small comfort to her ever-analytical, borderline obsessive mind. A calm port in the midst of even the fiercest storm.

Until recently, that is. Try as she might, she finds it significantly harder to properly unwind these days. The stress is a not entirely unexpected side effect of the additional workload she’s taken on as of late, but an unpleasant one nonetheless. On its own, the added pressure of her new crusade in Odyssey would not be enough to weigh so heavily on her mind... but it is hardly the only thing she has to worry about these days.

“Dr. Hastings? Are you still there?” comes a man’s voice from the speakerphone on her desk. It’s like something out of central casting, the product of too many cigarettes, too much booze, and a lifetime of late nights spent cutting deals in smoke-filled rooms across the country.

Whoever the voice belongs to, the sound of it is enough to snap the Doctor out of her troubled daydreams. She realizes quickly that she’d let herself trail off in the middle of a conversation, a rather uncharacteristic slip-up for the woman who’d made quite the reputation for being reliable and detail-oriented in all matters both personal and professional.

“Of course I am,” she says swiftly, clearing her throat and attempting to play off her lapse as some temporary distraction, “I was just thinking. Carry on, you were saying?”

“Mmhmm,” comes the response, a sound that signifies the man on the call has believes there might be more at play than the Doctor mulling over some minor thought, “I do hope your new responsibilities aren’t too much for you, Doctor. Things are heating up around the country, and we need every piece of the puzzle in their proper place... particularly a true believer like yourself. Try not to forget the importance of your duties, hm?”

“Don’t patronize me. Let’s not forget that my husband and I have almost as many friends in the Capitol as you do.”

A laugh comes down the line, a guttural noise that is barely recognizable as human.

“The key word being ‘almost’. But don't worry, as long as you remain useful, it won't be a problem. Do try to get some rest, though. I’ll be in touch.”

A click signals the end of the call, and Bethany’s mask slips briefly, a look of pure disgust passing over her face. She felt greasy every time she had to dip her toe into the fetid waters that flowed through the halls of power in this country. But it was a necessary evil in her mission to cleanse her beloved country of the cancer that had taken root in every public institution.

She was, as the man on the phone said, a true believer. And that meant making use of all means at her disposal to accomplish her goals, no matter how bad a taste it left in her mouth.

“I thought I’d proved my point back at Civil War during what was, for all intents and purposes, a handicap match against two once-promising young talents. The match that ended in victory for the lone defender of virtue and freedom left in this entire corrupt company... and in a remarkably one-sided fashion, no less. Not that I’m trying to brag, of course. I leave such petty, egotistical boasting to those to whom it comes more naturally. I’m merely here to state facts, just as I’ve always done, and just as I’ll always do.

But it turns out that Tomomi and Rebecca were just the beginning of my trials, the first obstacles that management sets in my path to impede my glorious crusade. Perhaps Llorona has finally woken up from her months-long Tequila and Cocaine stupor, and realized that the woman she welcomed onto her own brand with open arms is not the ally she might have assumed me to be at first. That her own personal brand of criminality and corruption were precisely what I had come here to fight against. I suppose I should be surprised that it took her this long to realize... I wonder if she’s regretting bringing me into the fold. I wonder if she understands now that Leona is not the woman she once knew, that she now serves a new master with her entire being.

Even if she does have regrets about signing me, it hardly matters at this point. My contract is iron-clad, and I doubt Omega Wrestling Alliance can afford the negative attention that might come from breaking our agreement without cause. We do live in the era of mass media, and I have many friends on many networks who would be interested in such a story.

So, Llorona and all of the broken toys on Odyssey are stuck with me, whether they like it or not. It’s clear, though, that the cartel Barbie simply cannot stomach having someone like me as champion. Someone who stands for everything her criminal ilk seek to destroy. A wise man once said that they’re not sending their best, and I couldn’t have put it better myself. Rather than take steps to remove me herself, that Latin tramp has brought in a few ringers to do the job for her... and since two challengers couldn’t get the job done, she’s done one better by providing me with three.

Little does she know that I couldn’t have asked for a finer gift than that. You see, it may come as a surprise to all the hyper-partisan liberal idiots out there, but I’m not just in this for a fresh platform to spread my message. No, as important as all that is, there’s more to me being here than that. And it’s not just my renewed love for athletic competition, something I haven’t felt since my days on the wrestling team back at Yale, that’s keeping me on Odyssey. I must admit to a more professional motive.

You see, I’m a Mother first, a Psychotherapist second, a Republican third, and an Athlete fourth. And I’ve come to view the borderline personalities in the locker room as some combination of wayward children and psychological cases. Not only do I want to guide them back into the light and away from the sick temptations of our demented, Democrat-run society, as a loving Mother might... I also want to study them. Not from afar, either: I could have accomplished that much with a VCR player and a few tapes, or a subscription to they OWA Network.

I want to study them close-up. Close enough to lay hands on them. Close enough to watch the panicked look in their eyes when they realize I’m not the push-over some might assume me to be. Oh, I’ve come to rely on Leona for assistance... perhaps too much, I’ll freely admit that much. I simply believe in working smarter, not harder. But please don’t mistake strategy for weakness, just because you’re incapable of thinking things through yourselves.

If you were able to effectively strategize, I might be a bit worried. With Leona at ringside, I’m confident I could handle two of you... but all three, working together? Well now, that might pose a problem. Fortunately, I don’t have to concern myself with such possibilities... because if one thing can be relied upon when it comes to the short-sighted creature known as ‘modern woman’, it’s that they can’t put aside their differences for the greater good. Not even for a second.

I know precisely how this is going to go. And it’s not going to be how you picture it. No moment of triumph over the big, bad, evil Republican is in your future. Far from it. You’ll stumble over each other, squabbling and fighting to be the first to score the pinfall for yourself, and in that confusion, in that blind panic and rush for glory, I’ll have all the opportunities I need to outmaneuver the three of you. In fact, I don’t doubt that you’ll be so busy clawing each other’s eyes out that I may not even need Leona to intervene on my behalf at any point... but then again, I won’t dismiss the possibility.

You see, I’m the most dangerous thing in today’s United States of America: a smart, self-assured, confident woman on a mission. And that means I’m not bound by silly rules, or a vain lust for accolades and pats on the back, or a desire to impress anyone but myself, my family, and God Himself. I’ll do whatever I need to, I think I’ve already proved that much to anyone who might be paying attention.

At the end of the day, I simply can’t afford to let any of you take this championship, and it has nothing to do with personal pride. The only way you’d ever get it is prying it out of my cold, dead hands, to borrow a phrase from a great man... and I don’t think any of you have what it takes.

Felix Hartley holding the Sparks belt and serving as role model to an entire generation of impressionable girls was bad enough, but even she had one or two redeeming features, albeit buried under inches of make-up and thousands of dollars of gaudy, revolting plastic surgery. She was, if nothing else, American, somewhat intelligent, and talented. Even possessing some small amount of class in her own trashy way. But the three of you? Aside from Ellie Quinn who I must unfortunately call my fellow citizen, you’re none of the above. But allow me to break it down for you all, because I know I’m speaking to a trio with the combined IQ of a CNN fake news anchor.

There’s the would-be Queen Bea herself. Dear, in case you weren’t aware, there’s a thin line between self-confidence and full-blown narcissism, and you seem to have crossed it long before you decided to ‘grace’ this company with your presence. You put in so much effort to appear both strong and feminine, without understanding what truly makes a person either of those things. Your attempt to prove both desirable and powerful has made you little more than a Frankenstein's monster, plucked straight from the porn-addicted mind of some lonely, disgusting muscle fetishist. And what’s worse, you’ve marketed and plastered yourself all over social media as some kind of standard for your fans to strive towards.

Mmm, yes, your little hive of internet followers. The same ones that feed you the dopamine hit of validation that you crave with every fiber of your being. The same ones who are, at the end of the day, the only things that keep you going... isn’t that right? What would you do if you couldn't wake up and check your phone to find a constant stream of ‘yas Queen slay’ comments, or whatever other nonsensical statements this bastardized generation uses to make themselves feel empowered and important? Well, Bea, let me be the one to break the news to you: your relevance is little more than a meager pile of sand clutched desperately in your palms... and it’s pouring through the gaps between your fingers faster than you could ever realize.

Your brand of influencer has a best before date, surely you must know the business enough to understand that, even if you think you’re immune to the effects of time yourself. But you’re not. Nobody is. And rather than prepare for the future, you’ve thrown everything you have into the present... and while it’s commendable to live for the moment, it’s also the province of fools. One day, those internet comments will slow to a trickle and then end completely, just as those swarming fans rushing to take selfies with you will – in time – disappear. And then what will the glamorous and popular Bea Havertz have?

Nothing. Nobody.

I hope you’re ready for that, because it’s going to be worse than anything I plan on doing to you in that ring... and you can rest assured, I’ve got plenty of rather nasty ideas about that. But I’ll let you see for yourself when the time comes, because I know your sort is hardly the type who’s willing to listen to the voice of reason.

And then we have Ellie Quinn. What, did you think you could just come slithering back in now that I’ve done what you couldn’t do yourself? You’re welcome, by the way. Nobody on Odyssey has bothered to thank me for ending that whore’s reign. But do you think that the person who tore Felix Hartley off her throne and tossed her in the dirt is going to be any easier to defeat than the woman herself? Are you really as stupid as you look, you gutter trash? Do you see this as a real second chance at the Sparks Championship? Don’t be ridiculous.

As far as I can tell, Ellie, your only success... your sole source of pride... comes from some other place in Europe that serves as a punchline within the professional wrestling industry. In my eyes, the only genuine star that ever graced Kingdom Pro was Michael Bishop, the last relevant champion in the OWAC's lineage. What has your good friend Lazarus Arjen done since coming to Olympus? A bloody rivalry with OWA legend Darkane, one that he only managed to survive -- barely -- with the assistance of his fellow murderous scumbags. And now, after realizing he has no path to success on his own, he’s joined hands with the same man he once swore to kill in an effort to get carried to some semblance of success. What of Remington Ivory Prescott? I understand you had some problems with that disgusting, unabashed, exploitative capitalist during your time overseas, didn’t you? Another Kingdom Pro failure, who had to resort to purchasing an entire brand in order to thrust his own tainted name into the spotlight. And you, Ellie Quinn, the perpetual runaway. Running from home. Running from responsibility. Running from your dismal first tenure on Odyssey. And now, for whatever reason, you’ve come back. Not running this time, but crawling.

To me, you’re no countryman of mine. You’re not even worthy of being called a woman. Or a person. You’re everything that’s wrong with this country, personified in one sentient ball of filth and grease, without even the strange dedication to their ideology that personifies the punk rockers you’ve ripped your style from. What do you stand for, Ellie? Chaos? Violence? Mindless destruction?

That all bores me. It’s so tired, so stereotypical, just the same worn-out rhetoric parroted by every nihilistic teen whose parents never gave them the attention and love they needed growing up. But that’s okay, dear... because while it may be too late to bring you up properly, I’m fully prepared – and capable – of bending you over my knee and doing what your mother and father never did: disciplining you.

Last... and least... we have the predictable returning ‘star’ from the early days of Odyssey, most likely trotted out just to fill the quota for mediocre, washed-up wrestlers from the past brought back for OWA’s fifth anniversary show. You know, when I said I want to Make Odyssey Great Again, I wasn’t talking about letting every failed wrestler that's ever passed through this company back into the locker room. My idea of traditionalism isn’t dredging up the ghosts of the past and parading them in the spotlight for cheap pops from the Bud Light-swilling idiots in the crowd. It’s about taking everything good about the past, every value worth saving, and instilling them in a new generation of Americans. A generation that might be, with my help, capable of succeeding. Something that poor Jessica Rose hasn’t the slightest idea about.

I won’t waste too many words on the poor, wilted English Rose... because in my books, you don’t get to coast on seniority. And I have no interest in doing any research on the middling career of such an unimpressive specimen as Jessica. I won’t be going over your old matches, or listening to your silly accent spout tired talking points about opponents long-gone. Because I don’t have to.

After all, I’ll be seeing you very, very soon, won’t I? So how about you save me some time going through the archives, and show me what you’re capable of. Show me that you’re not just some nostalgia act here to collect a round of half-hearted applause before fading back into the shadows after – yet again – accomplishing nothing of note.

But more likely, you’ll just wail and bleat at me, trying to convince the world that you’re better than me, more worthy of carrying this belt, without actually putting in the work necessary to secure a victory where it matters: on the mat.

But I suppose that’s the difference between myself and the rabble backstage, isn’t it? They walk around like preening peacocks, shamelessly strutting and running their pathetic mouths in a desperate attempt to come across as something more than they are. More important, more threatening, more respected. Nothing but one constant temper tantrum from a pack of petulant, childish brats.

Me, though? I don’t demand respect. I command it.

Because to some of us, authority comes naturally. And to the rest? Well, you’d best fall in line... or be prepared to become an enemy in my eyes, insead of the mere curiosities you are now. So consider this your one opportunity to show your worth. To show that you’re worthy of being saved. To show that you deserve a place in the new world that me and my people are building from the ruins of this fallen nation.

You wouldn’t want to waste your last chance, just as you’ve wasted the rest of your lives up to this point... would you?”

Michael Bishop, #BeLikeBea, 'Don' Hendrix, DT The Ruler and Felix Hartley have spoken. It’s such good shit!

jesus christ // owa5 001 April 25th 2023, 6:29 pm by **Felix Hartley**

“This is everything you’ve never wanted.”

Felix’s voice was void of emotion as she stared at the still-bruised and swollen orbital bone on her face. She dips her fingers into - another - jar of salve that Marie gifted her, likely exhausted from concocting so many of them for her alone the last few months. Felix glazes her cheekbone in the salve, wincing at the contact.

“Try as you might, you won’t escape me. Try as you might, you cannot control your own destiny when I’m right around the corner. Since Hardcore Havoc, you have nearly died trying to manipulate every second of this company, of Odyssey, Thotyssey and especially me just to secure your place on the throne… and I have thwarted every attempt. I am your final obstacle. You’ve known it for too long.

Your cash-in was never about you and your ‘full circle’ bullshit. I don’t buy it. What I saw instead was an oldhead ‘pillar’ of Odyssey realize earlier that same night that she almost lost her briefcase to a less experienced Marie Bouchard, and as she drew your blood with every hit, as she clutched it IN HER HANDS over your lifeless body, I watched you pray that you make it out with your precious briefcase so you could have one more anticlimactic World Championship reign before you hung up your boots forever. She hit you so fucking hard you saw hourglasses. It wasn’t about what Eris did to you. It was about capitalizing before it was too late. It was about scraping the bottom of your own dusty ass barrel before people could laugh at the way you dragged that briefcase around with you like a ball and chain for a YEAR and did nothing with it.

Unlucky for you, I was your prey.

But you had no choice. You needed this cash-in to stop your career from fleeting into the void, and I compromised your plan for an easy challenger. I know you didn’t want it to be me. Because you knew deep in your gut that I’d spend forever holding that grudge, and wherever you went, I would follow. Civil War, Jeff’s death, Banshee’s death, Violet’s death…severe lapses in focus as they were, your face stayed planted in the deepest crevices of my brain, aching for revenge. You said it yourself - I don’t fucking stay down.

That’s why you had to submit me. Even after the Promethean Chamber…after I had defeated five of Odyssey’s best wrestlers…after you had Raivo and DT fucking obliterate me in the middle of the ring… I should have been dead.

But even as you ‘beat’ me… I was still standing.

You locked in to your worst submission and I fought back. I stood across from you after everything I had been through and I spat at your fucking feet and invited you to your own cash-in. I’m not an idiot - I knew I wasn’t going to win that fight. But I sure as fuck wasn’t going to lay down for you. If you were getting served the Women’s World Championship on a platter, I was going to piss on your plate first. Because even if you were going to walk out of Hardcore Havoc with the Championship that I FUCKING FOUGHT FOR, I was going to make sure it tasted bitter.

Your ego couldn’t take it. You fucking LOATHED that your precious little full-circle moment didn’t go exactly how you planned it. I wouldn’t let you have the satisfaction. You hated that I wasn’t as weak as you were when Eris cashed in on you. I could see the disbelief in your eyes as we stood across from each other, watching the gears turn in your head, choosing to submit me rather than pin my shoulders to the mat because there was a glimmer of doubt that you’d be able to do it. You couldn’t risk it. You couldn’t risk trying to PIN ME. You KNEW there was a real, tangible chance that I’d kick out.

Once again, I ruined your plans. I will never grant you the satisfaction or validation that you desperately need.

At this point, I don’t even fucking care that you cost me the Sparks Championship. All it did was expose you. All it proved was that every single passing moment since Hardcore Havoc, you’ve been anticipating my revenge. You’re a greedy little cunt and you wanted to make sure that by the time I got to you for real, you and me, no interruptions, I’d be broken. Mentally, physically, emotionally. You thought you were playing some fucking 5D chess, but all you did was show your hand. Show me every weakness of yours so that all I had left to do on my bucket list was walk into OWA 5 and checkmate your dumb ass. You saw me in the ring at Hardcore Havoc, the Sparks title draped over one shoulder, the Undisputed Women’s World Championship over the other, standing there as the 3rd Promethean Chamber winner… you saw how easy it was for me to start stacking these galactic achievements in the ONE year I’ve been with OWA and you felt that pang of jealousy. The cool breeze of the shadow, watching Thotyssey - watching me - soak up the sunshine. Watching Rebecca and I dominate the brand you called yours for years, your blood boiling because you cLaWeD your way to the top meanwhile Bex and I have been effortlessly mopping the floor with these broads since our debuts. You were too late. I already made history as the longest reigning Sparks Champion at 258 days.

That’s longer than all three of your World Championship reigns combined.

I’d outgrown it. All you did as you tried to break me by stripping me of the only Championship I had left was fast track the death of your final reign. I’d beaten every low carder, mid carder, and by the time I was pummeling competitors like Alyssa Grace and competing in the Promethean Chamber it’d essentially become nothing but a keychain. Slinging it over my shoulder felt as natural as putting on underwear in the morning. It had lost its shine. All I had to do was wait until somebody was good enough to actually beat me for it, and without you, Diantha, nobody would have. You saw Bethany hit me with finisher after finisher after fucking finisher and… you guessed it.

I wouldn’t. Stay. Down.

And you took that personally. Because once again you tried to hurt me. You tried to break me. You wouldn’t leave the arena until Maggall flattened me like I was his 10th IHOP stack. I’m genuinely surprised the fat motherfucker didn’t cover me in syrup and eat my ass like it was his last meal. He collapsed my fucking lung and two weeks later I won a fucking street fight. You couldn’t break me. Maggall couldn’t break me. Skylar couldn’t break me. No matter how much you paid off the nurse to let her in the room and get the best of me the only way she had a chance to.

Battered, bloody, and broken…it didn’t matter. Because the second I was cleared from that hospital, I had to go home in the same clothes I arrived in. I had to lace my boots, hunched over, unable to breathe. I had to slide my black pleather ring gear on, scratching the caked on blood spatters through gasps of air and a crackling rib cage. The deep-seated rage and anger swirling around beneath my skin pulling the strings, moving me when my feet couldn’t. I had thought that was my lowest point. I thought that was when I had lost everything.

You can say you know my pain because of what Eris did to you…but you have no fucking idea. When Eris cashed in on you, for weeks afterwards all the Odyssey commentators could say was THAT was Diantha Rosso’s lowest point. ‘Diantha Rosso was robbed of the World Championship, this has to be the lowest point of her career’. TO BE SO FUCKING LUCKY. I lost a HELL of a lot more than you did. And you got your rematch a hell of a lot sooner than I did. You waited 55 days. Not even two months. Hardcore Havoc was in January and you waited until after you made sure your team of clit-nibblers took turns beating the shit out of me. You waited until after I had to fight for my life, my man’s life, and my sisters’ lives in a fucking WAR. And then, just when you thought there was no possible way I’d survive that… Just when you thought I was getting too close for comfort… You formed this little secret fucking alliance with Skylar Arceneaux.

You literally did everything in your power to make sure Skylar was your opponent at OWA5. But that’s the thing, Diantha. When it comes to me, you’re just not fucking powerful enough.

I mean, for fuck sakes you were barely powerful enough for her. Your first ‘defense’ and it’s a double disqualification? That ain’t a defense. It’s fucking embarrassing. That belt means you are the BEST female wrestler in the world. Not the best at tying the score - the best in the world. And there were moments - actual, real moments - where Skylar had your number. You should be licking DT’s boots for all FTM’s been doing for your career. You might as well etch their names onto the belt next to yours because they’ve been CARRYING this reign for you.

That was your plan, though. You needed Skylar at OWA5. Not only could you have a cute little redemption arc for your embarrassing double disqualification win, but you also knew, regardless of how fucking close that match was, you still had a better chance beating her than you do me. You KNOW that. You’ve BEEN knowing that. And you proved it. You saw me bodying Skylar with ease and you couldn’t possibly go into OWA5 knowing that you might have to beat ME. You couldn’t possibly go into OWA5 knowing your competition looked fucking flawless against the very same woman you beat by DISQUALIFICATION. For MONTHS you have been ducking me, Diantha. Skylar has been nothing but your human shield, a pawn in your very amateur chess game. You’ve spent every single week since Hardcore Havoc trying to manufacture every defense, every match, every pay-per-view, and I have been there the whole time, throwing Bex’s wrench into every single fucking plan you ever thought you had.

You will not walk out of OWA5 with my Undisputed Women’s World Championship.

You fucked around so much and you are finally going to find out.

I’ve had an answer for every one of your questions, but you wouldn’t dare ask me. Instead you chose to grandstand on some ‘I’ve beaten every single member of Thotyssey’ bullshit. Your ego desperately needs that statistic, and it’s something only one person on this roster can boast about.

But…it’s not you. It’s actually me. I was the one that single-handedly pinned both of my Thotyssey sisters during the Promethean Chamber. You’ve never been in the ring with Angelina. You choked me unconscious while I was still standing. And you would have lost LONG before I could get my revenge had Jason Long - may he absolutely not rest in peace - not had a personal vendetta. BOTH of your defenses have been fucking jokes. You nearly lost both of them. And yet you walk around here like you’re some fucking pillar of this brand. Call yourself that all you want, but it’s Thotyssey who are the foundation. You’re not any different from the rest of the brand. We’ve been public enemy #1, #2 AND #3 for as long as we’ve been here. The catch-22 for you being that you need to tout this win over us, and me specifically, to be able to truly say you’re the best. But you don’t want to face us. You keep saying you’ve outmaneuvered me at every turn but it’s a facade to disguise your failed attempts at avoiding me. Outmaneuvering me at every turn and yet I’m the one that turned away from the title belt you tried to take me out with last Odyssey. To keep your little promise to Skylar. To make sure your pathetic little reign continues. A true champion would actively TRY to eliminate me - prove once and for all that you COULD beat me at full capacity. That you don’t need to choke me out after the most brutal match this company has to offer. You should be fighting for your own reputation as a World Champion.

But instead we’ve put you on the poster for OWA5 to represent nostalgia. Nothing more. A gentle reminder that 5 years has gone by and despite being the only woman to have three world title reigns, it’s somehow outshined by the length of your contract.

Sure, you could say something about how ‘real champions’ don’t need to bring guns into the wrestling ring. Maybe you’re right. But I did bring them to a war. To send the message that you can ‘plot revenge’ all you want. You can attempt to thwart my success or delay the time it takes for me to finally get to you. But when it matters - and I mean when it actually fucking matters - I will always one-up you. I will bring a gun to a knife fight. I will make sure that when I want it to end, it ends. You saw how good I am with an AK, and if you forgot, look down and then about 45 degrees to your right. You should see a scar from a bullet hole that I put there. Never hesitate to remember that I will pull the fucking trigger when I need to - on a gun, and on your career. Look down at that scar again. Remember it the next time you have the overwhelming desire to pick up a microphone and call me the most ‘overlooked’ member of Thotyssey again. Bitch, the only reason I’m overlooked is because you’ve been looking in any other direction but mine since Hardcore Havoc.

Remember that scar the next time you tell me that I was a cash cow and that you ‘earned’ everything you got. You’re right, Diantha. You did earn those two Final Destination main event losses. Remember that scar the next time you tell me you’re going to make my life a living hell in ways I couldn’t imagine. Once Jeff came back from that very place, he fucked my brains out and told me hell really wasn’t that bad - so I’m certainly not going to start taking your word for it. If the shit you’ve put me through over the last few months is your idea of hell, then I guess I’ve survived it too. Maybe I can show you at OWA5 what my idea of hell is, and we’ll see whose is better.

Leading up to Civil War, every word that came out of your mouth was supposed to sound like a threat. But all I heard were endless pleas. You realized you couldn’t beat Rebecca Filth without Jason Long, without For the Minorities. Every time you addressed me, all I could hear were scared little desperate pleas ever so slightly dipped in just enough venom to sound threatening. Stay down. Go away forever. DURING Civil War, you backed the fuck off. You ‘let us grieve’. That we’d been through enough. Fuck off. You knew by then that Thotline has an unbelievable threshold for grief. It doesn’t stop us. It motivates us. It FEEDS us. And I know that they will have my back at OWA5 should your goons try anything fucking stupid. Especially Rebecca. Because no matter how many times you try to rip Thotyssey apart or minimize the bond that we have, the sisterhood that we’ve created and nurtured, we will always kill for each other. We will always be in each other’s corners. We are protected. Armed. Invincible. And on the brink of dethroning you and exposing you for the fraud you are, for good. Because you are close to your wit’s end, Diantha. And long after you’re gone, after I fucking decimate you in the middle of the ring at OWA5, after I make fucking sure that I die before I let you leave that arena in anything but a stretcher or a coffin, I will STILL be here, in OWA, on Odyssey, gunning for every single fucking achievement you have ever won JUST to say that I did it too. I will wipe out your legacy in one fell swoop. I will erase you from the ranks. I will turn every past and present poster you’re on into an obituary. And if there’s some way in hell that Felix “Jesus Christ” Hartley doesn’t do it…

I will simply pluck the thorns out, rise again and do it all again next year."

VaeVictisBD, Michael Bishop, Jeff X, Darkane, #BeLikeBea, Rebecca Filth, 'Don' Hendrix and have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos April 25th 2023, 6:04 pm by **Darkane**

It wasn’t difficult to miss if you looked hard enough. Located in the bowels of New Orleans rested a massive and gloomy abandoned mausoleum, its luster lost and vacated and left for dead with the dead. It was illuminated by natural light but at a cost. The above ground tombs were horizontal and stacked on top of each other. Long vandalized and desecrated it was sombering in a sense. To see families, their loved ones, tarnished in such a way that felt unjust. The halls gave off an empty feeling and if the walls could talk they sure would have stories to tell. Inside of the tombs spider webs tangled together with bones protruding from the ravaged caskets. A skull here, a femur there, some even had glass jars filled with something unearthly, a sign of black magic to curse the dead. Dried stains of bodily fluids traveled down to the stone floor leaving a circular mark. There was something truly malevolent left behind here.

The sudden sound of footsteps echoed throughout the mausoleum and turning the corner was Darkane. The man in black came alone, as he looked straight ahead. The daylight peaked through openings throughout the building and revealed the scars on his haggard face. He’d seen far better days, the rawness from the burns still pulsated on his cheeks but he was over it; he had to be. As far as he was concerned it was dealt with, the lingering effects would go away but his mind was elsewhere. He was lost in a reverie of winning the Tag Team Championships with Laz but he knew it was only a dream at this point. Darkane was sick to death of dreaming, he wanted tag team gold so bad that it kept him up deep into the night. He’d been chasing gold for a while now, The APEX World Championship notwithstanding, which never felt ‘right’ on him to begin with. It was a fucking joke, something to tame his urge while others basked in their own glory. Enough was enough. All this maneuvering to get back to the promised land only to come up empty handed was a burden but not anything impossible to overcome. This was Darkane afterall, a legendary name to most and those who didn’t know him, learned real fast.

He stood there studying the cracks in the foundation, wondering how such a place could be so derelict and forgotten about. He knew of the mausoleum beforehand but never decided to visit until today. It looked like it had been empty for centuries and in Darkane’s mind it was. In Darkane’s mind it was his now, for now.

“I’m not much of a believer in karma, I air on the side of letting people fuck themselves on their own. It happens all the time. It’s a shame to see places like these completely defaced and trashed beyond recognition. Even though karma isn’t my cup of tea, I do believe in the ability to make things right by your own hands. And my hands? They’ve done plenty of damage over the years and while they may jitter some, at least they still pack a punch. These hands weren’t just made to build a legacy of my own, these hands were made to maim. I know the power they hold. I’ve won championships with these hands. I’ve ended careers with these fucking hands. And DT? While karma ain’t real in your mind.

The Seventh Ward are.

And we’re not going away.

We are the parasites at the bottom of your buckle dress shoes, we are everything that you despise in a person, we are a contagious fucking disease that will eventually infect FTM and The Dojo Bros all the way to their core. We are the very antithesis of what you stand for because there is no moral high ground here, DT. You can flex as much as you want to, you can claim FTM is the best tag team OWA has ever seen even though that in itself is hyperbole. You wanna coast off your laurels be my guest but know this. Everything you do is under a microscope. Nobody in OWA looks to FTM for guidance or for influence, they look at FTM as two aggrieved and butthurt clout chasers, especially Raivo. The kind that nobody really wants around but still has to deal with anyway, but OWA isn’t a popularity contest when you get down to the nitty gritty. OWA doesn’t need FTM’s seal of approval. OWA needs to rid itself of charlatans like DT who would rather focus on impertinent shit like personal hygiene when the stakes are sky fucking high. Your head isn’t in the game DT. It’s not where it needs to be and that’s gonna come back to haunt you like an old ghost.

Which is fine by us. It’s easy to throw somebody like you off his hinges. When shit goes awry it’s usually the self proclaimed rulers that don’t know how to fight. Do you know how to fight DT? When you’re up against it? When your back is against the wall, are you a caged animal? I don’t see a monster with a heart of ice when he’s up shits creek. I see a fucking manchild, wagging his fist at anybody and everything, sending out a call to arms, setting off the alarm systems, flipping over his desk until the door is blown wide open, while papers fly haphazardly everywhere, windows shattered, and fires are blazing. You and your obedient bitch boy Raivo wondering where all went wrong. Where you’re faced with real legitimate fucking competition, who aren’t here for a last hoorah, joy ride like The Queens. Who aren’t here just to say they competed in the same ring as The Seventh Ward and FTM like The Dojo Bros. We’re here to take what's yours, your belongings, your babies, your crown jewels and unceremoniously smash your display case with our shovels and finally get our hands on The Tag Team Championships.

We want you to know the pain of losing something close to the vest. The pain of letting each other down when it counts the most. I can just see Raivo somehow fucking it up and DT strangling him Homer Simpson to Bart style, showing his true agenda. Showing that Raivo isn’t a brother to him, but a pawn. And that’s when your world starts to burn DT. All the way down, to the blazing depths below. And as the embers dance together, we will stand over the crumbled cadavers of FTM and The Dojo Bros as the new OWA Tag Team Champions with DT himself left repeating the very same question he asked us after we assaulted him.

Why?

Why did The Seventh Ward attack us from behind, the cowards?! As your diapers fill up with soil and as the tears burst from your eye glands like the stylish art deco fountain in front of your high rise. That’s not a very tall look for someone who walks tall and mighty. Oh no! The Seventh Ward played dirty so I’m going to make a bunch of recent shitty basketball references and then loop it around and compare the two for style points. I sound so hip, don’t I?! Boy I sure pegged them! That’ll get Oasis to pop up out of his seat and cheer lead in his skirt from the back! I hope Raivo digs that one! We don’t owe you an explanation DT, for anything. The proof is in the pudding. Asking why is almost as witless as commanding your competition to massage your ego and call you sir. The Dojo Bros may do it, but we sure as hell won’t. You’re gonna let that appetizer of an attack rile your ass up? Wait until the real bloodshed begins, you won’t be able to handle it. The DT we thought we knew is just a sheep in wolves clothing, he’s all fancy window dressing. Everything he does is for means of intimidation. It might work on less experienced young pups like The Dojo Bros but we see right through you DT and we’re not gonna cower in fear and skip town. We’re going to fucking break you instead.

The same goes for his lapdog, Raivo. He goes on a passionate tangent about how The Seventh Ward is cut from the same cloth, and about how we’re redundant as if it’s a detriment. We’ve been tight knit and practically joined at the hip since you were drinking apple juice out of sippy cups in your fucking high chair. A lot longer than you and DT have formed your spontaneous oppression support group made up out of fucking thin air. Like it’s some sort of break glass in case of whiteness overload assemblage of two jerk offs that do what they do and say what they say to stir the pot more than anything else. When in contrast, The Seventh Ward relies on full throttle, pedal to the metal action and brutality. We don’t need to play the victim card to generate buzz. We don’t need to drag everyone else down through our own crises just to alleviate our insecurities as fucking men. Oh but that’s boring! You guys are boring! I don’t see how that’s relevant when it comes to winning championships. FTM and especially you Raivo aren’t the judge and jury, we don’t care if we’re ‘boring’ to you. This isn’t American Idol. Winning championships isn’t solely based on star power and pizzaz. You and DT can sport a smile for the flashing cameras while we empty your fucking skulls by the shovel full. While we take our pound of flesh and squeeze every last drop of blood out of you fucks, until you’re dry enough for the pound mutts to sliver down out of their bowls for dinner. If everything we did was predicated on being brash and being pretentious showoffs, we’d be in for a nasty realization that not all that glitters is fucking gold.

We’re not gonna get sucked into FTM's whole ploy, Raivo, we’re not gonna be defined by some babbling loquacious shitsmear who likes to shoot off the cuff and make up narratives that he wants to be true when in reality couldn’t be further from the truth. I’ve dealt with slimy weasels like you before, that slither their way into people’s heads and gets them thinking about their own moral compass and you try to mix in feelings of guilt along the way. I can see it coming from a mile away and it falls on deaf ears. Motherfucker has the gall to talk about inflated egos when his is the size of a fun house. Same goes for DT. It’s the game within the game. It’s all about getting your adversaries off kilter. It's a plea for pity, or at least for The Seventh Ward to think twice about what we’re about to do, but we’re as sure as ever. The buck doesn’t stop at FTM or The Dojo Bros. We’re going for a full scale massacre, one the likes you’ve never seen before. Even beyond what you dealt with in the great war. Our capabilities are endless because there is no inherent off button. We’re not able to dial it back, it’s full steam ahead. We cannot be reasoned with and I bet that’s why you’re truly pissed off. We didn’t beat you down to motivate you, we beat you down to debilitate you. The process has already begun. We’re not out here to get ourselves killed, we’re out here to get you killed. To finally stuff your fucking chirping mouth with a stinking wretched dead rat so you know your rank. FTM aren’t the be all and end all when their entrails are dumped like raw sewage into a bin, mixed with The Dojo Bros together creating a bloody collage of wasted potential and overthrown narcissists.

Yet we don’t deserve your time? Well too fucking bad, you don’t have a choice. You’re playing with fire Raivo and you know as much as I do that glossing over the likes of The Seventh Ward is going to leave you and DT down writhing in a hole. Where you fucking belong. Our bond isn’t based on hatred, respect, it’s based on knowing that we already have one foot in hell, but neither of us are jumping into the pit without taking FTM and The Dojo Bros with us. Only we’re not going to cascade into the lake of fire, we’re gonna drag you down beneath the soil and watch you motherfuckers squirm in our lair. Then who will be the ones to fade into obscurity? Then who will be the ones sucking their thumbs and kneeling before us, closing their eyes in preparation of what’s to come. But we’re just here for the Tag Team Championships, leaving FTM and The Dojo Bros to cradle each other helplessly as we break out the executioner's axe for pure novelty is just a bonus. We’re gonna wipe Kingdom clean of its fabled tag team representatives. The same faux kings that thought they had no equal. The same DT who thought his power trip would never cease. The same Raivo who thought he could squeak by, by flash and gaudiness alone.

I don’t believe Ty Kulina fully buys what he’s selling. He breaks out overused cliches that The Dojo Bros represent the long tumultuous journey, or how they represent a tough as nails, ask-questions-later work ethic yet here he is apologizing in spades to his partner because his head was in the clouds. He takes the blame for their shortcomings, he wants to put on a brave face and shoulder the burden of failure. You live as a team, you die as a team and it can be a double edged sword sometimes but no one is here cutting onions, no one is here to lament and feel sorry for themselves. Being accountable is one thing, but everything you say has a certain emptiness behind it. As if you already know you’re about to be eviscerated. I sometimes wonder what men on death row feel like, what goes through their heads, how they’re driven more and more to the point of lunacy as their due date draws nearer. That’s where The Dojo Bros are. Death row and they never once committed a heinous act per se, they don’t have that kind of malice in them. Ty and Sena are on death row because they know that their demise is inevitable and it’s coming quickly.

Ty knows it. Sena does too as he wallows in the shadows.

But make no mistake about it Ty. FTM aren’t the real villains here.

We are.

And as much as you’d like to convince yourselves that you can avenge each other, to right every wrong, to cross every T and dot every I. To make damn sure you put OWA on notice. We’re leaps and bound ahead of you. And if your head isn’t in the game this time around, then it will promptly be severed off both of your shoulders as they roll right into the fucking grave. That’s when you can truly hold yourselves accountable instead of using it as a basis to clear your shoddy conscience, to give yourself an out, to make sure that Sena still trusts you, even though you don’t trust yourself. You’ve been at odds with FTM for months and all you have to show for it is a shaken confidence. Did they really fuck with you two? Or do you just not have what it takes to pull the rug out from everybody and shock the world? It ain't your turn Ty, Sena, you’ve had your shot a glory and you blew it. And who are you to dictate who’s first in line anyway? We’ve been waiting in the wings for the better part of a year for Oasis to finally pull the fucking trigger and let us come in to dump on Kingdom and take The Tag Team Championships. We know he’s back in the fold hyping up FTM, puckering up his lips and kissing their fucking asses on the daily, but even he knows they’re on borrowed time. The Dojo Bros are right under that umbrella too. Ain’t nobody running from us anymore. We’ll catch you by the legs and claw out your carcasses, whether it’s on a table, up a ladder, through a chair. It doesn’t matter.

This shit is ours. Our time is fucking now. The Tag Championships are coming home.

‘Til Kingdom come.”

Darkane spreads his arms the length of his wing span and snarls straight ahead.

A wrathful darkness forming in his eyes, one we haven’t quite seen before.

VaeVictisBD, Michael Bishop, Elijah Hampton, #BeLikeBea, Rebecca Filth, 'Don' Hendrix, Remington Ivory Prescott and have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos April 25th 2023, 5:54 pm by **Michael Bishop**

Conviction: The quality of showing that one is firmly convinced of what one believes or says. Anyone can lace up a pair of boots, strap on a pair of gloves, and jump into a wrestling ring. Few can do it at this level, the ability to do so is anointment through combat, strife, walking a road that few survive, to become the one above all, the best of the best, who stands at the peak of that mountain having defeated everyone. Doing so requires unity within one’s self, to stand atop the world, to defeat all others, you must be at peace with yourself. The battle within is long, dragged out, like an iron man match or a clash, and will almost certainly destroy you. You must decide in your pocket, who you are going to be, and if you are willing to sacrifice who you are for who you must become. Venom once flowed through my veins, my mind was paralyzed by anger and revenge, no more. Every since walking the steps to heaven my shots have rung true, my motives have been righteous, and my will to win has been total.

Some learn easier, others not. The focus in my mind today came from almost losing it to malice and being consumed by my own hatred. I had to meet the devil to learn his name.

Some would say they would hate to be in a match like this, why? This canvas is the ultimate theater of truth, the world's top ring where everything is left inside to prove who is the best in the world. I’ve never shied away from a fight in a life, and I’ve never turned down a match, a bout, or a war. That’s a fact, a statistic, you know what else is? The most opponents an OWA World Champion has ever faced, in a reign that contained the most carnage per capita, per main event, per pay per view. When I walked down that ramp with that strap of leather and gold there was no doubt, no hesitation, no fear. In fact I instilled it in the mind of everyone I faced, flipped the fucking board because when you shot for the top I took the fight to you, the Hellbow to your skull, the stake to your heart, the blade to your neck. All out attack. My being here is because when they looked to create the most stacked match for the OWA World Championship, my resume made it undeniable. I know who I am, and while the challenge has never been greater, I look to the bells and I see absolute certainty. I will be OWA World Champion; Kingdom is in free fall chaos, returning legends wanting to cash their chips, a titleholder who still lives in the shadow of his Dynasty brothers. A fighting champion is needed, and I still have that fire in my soul, so ring the bell because it is time for the return of the Heavyweight King.

To step into a match like this is to gamble your very well being, but in a land like OWA that is common, you know that first hand Aria. You’ve been stabbed in the gut, I’ve blown up, set on fire, sliced, diced, shot, buried, literally-killed, honestly the shorter list is now types-of-ways-I-haven’t-died. We both know what this game costs; the mental battle to come back after a long lay off, the spiritual war to keep on walking whilst you literally physically can’t. Us merely talking right now is a testament to how far we are willing to go, to do the shit that lives so vividly in our soul. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love it: Roar of the crowd, the rush that instantly hits when the bells ring oh so right, the cold anxiety battling hot fury as you trade back and forth. It is exhilarating, it’s the kind of rush I’ve felt all the way back in my youth, the genesis of my journey. I’ve told you before what those were like: “Kill, Die, Repeat”- but I have to be better than that. Those days are gone and I am no longer a slave to my drive, my hunger is an instinct, kept in check, and while I may have been a combat junkie once those days and I are far removed. Yes I’m willing to die for this shit, as is anyone else who is at this level and seeks to win. You do belong here, Aria, that’s something the Majin will never admit because he’s too busy being backed into a corner, saying whatever it takes to get a rise out of us. Whether or not we answer, is a testament to our discipline, and we both have had doubts. That being said, my place here is earned too, and you know first hand that while I am one of the best allies you could ever have, having Michael Bishop as an enemy is a fucking death sentence.

This an all or nothing hour, Aria, everything is on the line; Best of the best of the best, the biggest main event in the company’s history, and above all? The OWA World Championship on the line. Who gets to rule Kingdom after all is said and done, that’s a question that will only be answered by those final bells. Who you are at the top is a reflection of who you are in your worst moments. When despair is laying claim to your mind and you have every ability to cut corners, the choice you make there… defines who you are standing on that turnbuckle, when the confetti is dropping. You once questioned my ability to get to the top Aria, back when my return was turning into a knock down, dragged out, fight for survival, your words echoed the sentiments of the entire world as they asked if Michael Bishop really had what it took to be the guy. Two years later I stood victorious in the city of 808 villages, covered in blood, vindicated by every single setback I had. When times were tough, when the fight got very, very close… I knew that I was going to pull through. When odds were seven billion to one, I dug my heels in and dared the world to watch, as I was the guy, who beat the guy, the nightmare, the god, the devil, cinder king, the prophet, the chosen one, the father, the ace, the lost wolf, the maverick, the punisher, the queen, to become the King. Confidence in the face of adversity that has made others break upon contact, that has made people refuse to enter the ring and run in terror. I survived because I refused to become what others wished of me, and became what I knew I could be. I thrived because I refused to be a sentence in someone else’s storybook.

Wisdom comes from recognizing the danger you take every single day you feed your ambition, and carrying on because you know you can defy it. That wisdom has made me a standard bearer across not just Kingdom, but OWA, for several years: I could leave right now, my child’s future would be secure, my wife and I could never work for the rest of our lives, but that’s not who I am. I made a promise to be the best, when I was champion I didn’t just wave the flag, I made every stitch of it count. A misstep happened but as they say: What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, mothafucker. I don’t see you as a stepping stone, Aria, you are the ultimatum to me being able to win this, and our collision was always going to be unavoidable. But in order to win the championship, take the throne, I must spill your blood, and render you unable to continue, it is evil but it is necessary.

Before man was, conflict awaited him. Hardship will find you, how you respond is your prerogative. I had to tell myself that every single day, Kenny, while you went on to prosper and enrich the Wolvesden name. I sat for hours in the dark and was faced with deconstructing myself… I wanted to have my revenge, I wanted to make it my own, I wanted it to be righteous. But I see more clearly now, that doing so would force me to dig two graves: One for you, and one for myself. I will not sacrifice my chance to become OWA World Champion to end a war long since buried, but defeating you; returned from death and retirement, hungering for blood, shot for shot, rolling you up and making you the catalyst of my victory will be the true victory. An exoneration of the notion I found branded to me when I first got here; that I was below anyone’s boot. Salvation for the title that it is earned with absolution through merit. Don’t worry, Drake, your hunger will be satisfied. There will be no shortage of blood, no lack of carnage, but this match will be your burial ground. For several hundred days my leg was turned into a mental weight that afflicted me wherever I went with the memory of what happened. The question I asked myself, were I placed across from you: Would I win? When I stand victorious on that turnbuckle, championship high, you face down on that canvas, we will finally have the answer; I could, I would- I will.

Some of these match ups are years in the making, but a consistent, never ending ability to improve and prepare has always been a dogma of mine. The wayward man I was is a shadow compared to who I am now. I’ve got eyes in the back of my head, and the readiness to fight whoever needs to be fought, do what needs to be done, to win the battles that need to be won. I always knew Jeff and I would face off yet again, Frontline or not we are two of the heaviest hitters on Kingdom and in the company. Truth be told, I hadn’t felt as alive up until that point as I did against the Carolina Reaper. But I have always kept my word, be who I say I am, and even blinded by my own blood I kept on marching, kept swinging, and one of us was down on that canvas and it wasn’t me. My respect for you is infinite, Jeff, you know this, despite what many say we are of the handful who have the bigger picture on the world in the ways we have fought. That being said, respect has never saved anyone when they found themselves within my grasp. You are a two time world champion, a grand slam champion, but accolades have only served to raise the stakes and networth of a battle for me. We are Frontline’s finest, but only one of us can stand tall by the end of this. Whatever that takes, I am willing to pay it, and the blood will not be my own. You know this, you always have, it doesn’t mean you can stop it however. You will give it all you’ve got to beat me, and you will fail in that objective.

Speaking of failure… alright Stark, let’s keep it stack: Out of the generation you came with, you were always second to everyone. In the illustrious land of EAW, you spent years toiling only to be a side act to Rosso, Ava, Oasis, on every brand, at every show. The responsibility lies on no one but yourself, because you consistently fumbled every fucking bag you were ever given. You left those pastures to create your company; where everyone saw Bad Boy Know, Senn, their crowning champion Aria, their belt hoarder CM Nas, and no one thought anything, gave a single fuck about you until they were all done and gone. You were and still are a vulture that was trapped by a ceiling of being unable to break the above-average-line, that stayed around long enough to gnaw at the corpse of the Rising Sun, and your PrEcIouS CoMpAnY lasted a year more on life support. Hell, JET beat you in ratings, that alone should make you wash your mouth out with a revolver. But enduring embarrassment so you can get pyrrhic spiritual victory is what you’ve always done. Then somewhere along the way you got lost in Mushroom Mayhem and died, turned white, couldn’t handle that fact so you left… must really get under your skin that an All-American Chiraqi like me managed to not only get to the top of your company, but Usurp Aria’s reign in days.

You want me to say thank you? That company would have been forgotten just like you, if not for me carrying it on my shoulders like I was so many other things in 2022. You wanna accuse me of being handed shit? I have been passed over time and time again, by motherfuckers from companies long dead like you, while nepotism alone has kept your generation in the spotlight over, and over. You can say I didn’t make it in the Octagon, but the stories tell the truth. You ran from me sweating blood at Kingdom 100 because you knew when I got my hands on you, I would make you scream like a bitch, and I will end your reign in one, two, three. The only reason you hold that championship is because you had to pry it off the body of a drug-addled motherfucker who could just barely get past Jacob Striker, and even then? Let’s not forget he almost got you all the same. Out of the two “men” responsible for ending my reign: I had one shot and buried in a shallow grave, the world thanked me for it. The other is the great old one we had made into a pet.

Those who fucked around, found out, their psyches are irreparable and there is not a mothafucka’ on this earth that can stand toe to toe with me, and when it comes to you it’s always out of the question. I piss you off on every fundamental level because I didn’t start at some wrestling school, I wasn’t a part of one of the cliques, no… I hellmarched in here from an environment all of you would get rolled up and buried in, I took no hand outs, I stopped at nothing, and I came back from every setback; stabbed in the heart, my leg being cut the fuck off, and yet despite all the jeers and jokes men like you made; I managed to accomplish twice as much, become an exponentially bigger threat, more renowned name, than you have in your long, painful, regrettable career. A man who claims to be of a “higher plane of consciousness”, yet his words drip of the bitterness of someone who got their teeth dragged through the mud. Not because of discrimination, or class, hell if anything you were one of the most privileged of all who walked in here. No deep down underneath the mark of the Maijin, you are that same guy who got fucking bricked against even the lowest level of competition over, and over, and I can smell the anxiety off you because you are staring down a murderer’s row of challengers, your reign is nearing it’s expiration date, and the name on the toe tag, your cause of death, will be me.

History will look back on us… They’ll know me as Michael Bishop; King of the Mountain, Champion of Seoul, Hero of Tokyo, Dreadknight of Chicago, who managed to unite two hemispheres, two world championships, on one set of shoulders. You? When your name is called, people will ask; “Stark? You mean the guy who got his heart ripped out by JD Damon? The man who’s entire time in OWA was spent in an I-Simp-Side-Story with Nathan Fiora? The guy who got balled up by Keelan Calihan? The guy The Dynasty ditched in their first year because he was dead weight? The third wheel Goto beat with ease in her 98 day reign with his free title shot??”.

I’ve danced with the reaper, your biggest rival was a washed “milkman” who at the end of the day, is still a Hall of Famer. And by the end of this? You will still be waiting for the chance to go in because your damage will be undone, and all you will be remembered as is Brian Danielson’s strongest defender. You want to lay it all out on the line, fine, let’s tear each other apart but I warn you: I know who I am, the mistakes I’ve made, I’ve got nothing to hide. You? A glass castle where every wall, corner, and window is more fuckin’ disappointing than the last.. I’ve buried rosters to get here, cleaned divisions out thrice just to send a message: We are not even in the same area code of skill. It takes hours for you to do what I do in minutes without preparation. Being and remaining dominant on Kingdom requires consistent violence and unrelenting will, I’ve got both. you’ve had neither and you still don’t because you are an empty husk of a man who passed away in 2017. All it takes to stop the human body from being able to walk is 26 bones, 37 to cause them to shit in a bag for the rest of their life, 43 to make them eat through a tube, 112 to force them into an iron lung. There will be no return for you after this, Stark. I’m gonna outclass you and make people wonder why the hell you were even here. This will be your last match, I will triple down and send you the fuck out. What will you say when that time comes? Nothing, I’ll split your jaw so the world never has to hear another thousand pounds of shit leave your mouth. When you lie there breathing your last, feeling the dark calling… go quietly, do the entire world a favor, and take the easy way out.

I don’t ask who will be there in that ring, I ask for the date. I stand, alive, and more fired up than every because I have exactly what I want… a shot to reclaim my title; the 10lbs of black and gold presented to me in one of the earth’s oldest cities, carried across over 7,000 miles of success and conquest. I put the “world” in world champion. Across from me stands four names who are known throughout OWA’s history as some of the best; Two hall of farmers, two clash winners, two grand slam champions, a current world champion. Half a decade of history collides and only one of us can walk out the victor, as the World Heavyweight Champion. Every chain that tried to hold me down, I have broken. Every phantom that has haunted me, I have exterminated. Racked, stacked, and put in the fucking ground as another brick on Ground n’ Pound Boulevard. I was a child of the octagon, who crossed the gap and nearly fell to his death, climbed out through righteous fury alone, and I was given no breaks, no room for error or to breath, and yet I am here!!! There are many phrases for it, for what is to come between those three bells; Retribution, Justice- will be ushered follows the four words you all know and dread: Fuck Around and Find Out.

VaeVictisBD, Darkane, Elijah Hampton, #BeLikeBea, Rebecca Filth, 'Don' Hendrix, Remington Ivory Prescott and have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos April 25th 2023, 12:02 pm by **Arata Asakura**

OWA Promos - Page 6 Tumblr_pfyg6uqaFE1s0zdtdo2_1280

OWA5 #2: Understanding Yourself.

23.04.2023 Osaka, Japan

*A few days passed, but Arata felt that nothing had changed. After all these years in the wrestling business, he was used to the fact that every big occasion came along with a flood of words and thoughts. There was always a lot of yelling, insults and arguments. Even among friends. This time there was absolute silence. Almost none of his opponents said a single word. Which made the Japanese man wonder about one thing. Was it because everyone was so experienced, that they didn't need this type of movement? Maybe. Though Arata began to be tormented by one thought. What if the rest wasn't as interested as he was? Perhaps they figured that it was better to save energy for Clash of the Titans. On the one hand, he tried to understand this approach. After all, winning at OWA5 didn't guarantee a spot at Final Destination. It was a good way to go, but you couldn't be sure of anything. However, as it turned out, this match does not contain only one opportunity. According to the announcement, the winner will also receive the vacant OWA Outlaw Championship. Something Arata has never had the chance to hold before. So, in a way, he was excited to experience something new, even if he didn't show it. That's why, he was even more annoyed by the dismissive attitude of most of the participants in this match. After all, he wanted to beat the strongest group possible. However, he didn't feel any desperation for this to happen. If they didn't care enough, it wasn't his problem. He was going to take all the prize for himself and build himself a comfortable way to triumph in Clash as well.*

*This Sunday Arata spent time with his 'family', although he didn't quite know how to treat them. The children were small, so they didn't know the difference between him and the Gaijin Killer. Their relationship was less complicated, so it wasn't that hard for him to treat them as if they came from his dimension. The bigger problem was with adults. They understood much more. Even if they knew these two people had the same face, they had different personalities. Despite this, the Japanese man tried to establish a positive relationship with these people, because it looked like he would stay here forever. After all, all he could find in his dimension was sadness and suffering. Here, he could at least try to find his way to happiness.*

"Dad!" Izaya ran towards Arata and grabbed him for a hug "I'm glad you came back!"

*Arata smiled slightly and patted the child on the head. The man turned back, as he heard a female voice coming from behind him.*

"Nice to finally see you, Arata. You haven't been to our house for a long time." Chelsea said in a calm tone, then turned to her son "Bring your siblings, we'll be having dinner in a moment."

*As the baby ran back home, Chelsea sat down next to the man on the stairs. She sighed heavily and, looking straight ahead, spoke again.*

"There's no need for you to feel like an intruder in your own home, or at least the one we used to live in together. I don't know what to think of HIM being gone. But I'm not going to treat you like an enemy. This dimension or the other...you are our family."

*Arata didn't expect Chelsea to bring this up at all, but he was glad to hear it from her. He ran a hand over his beard, then finally spoke up himself.*

"Thanks...I'm trying to figure it all out. Although, it's probably not easy for you either. It's all so complicated, and I'm escaping from this into work as usual. It's an annoying habit of mine. If I don't know what to do, I simply do everything. That's why, I'm even glad that I have so many things going on. I need challenges to not lose my sanity."

"Worried about the match at OWA5? It's a pretty good squad, but I think you can make it. You are a damn beast in the ring. At least that's what you both have in common."

*Chelsea made a joke, but then began to feel guilty that it might not have been the best combination of words.*

"I'm not worried about the battle itself, but about the condition of my colleagues. The Great War left a lot of damage. We will feel the effects of this chaos for a longer time than we even expect. And you can imagine, some of us deal with it worse than others."

*Arata sighed heavily and rolled his eyes, thinking of this particular person.*

"Theo is a good kid, but he gets blinded by his own emotions too quickly and too easily. Not to mention the fact that he carries not only the burden of the war, but also his private affairs. I have seen how overwhelmed he is for a while. Because of this, he makes stupid mistakes and he causes idiotic arguments about things that don't really matter. Sometimes he's even paranoid and thinks everyone is against him. That worries me, Chelsea. I think he should see a psychiatrist. Wrestling won't fix everything, it'll only lead him to self-destruction. Each successive failure will only drive him into madness sooner or later. This is not a good time for him to think about championships and opportunities. He should take care of himself first."

*Arata frowned slightly, and the woman felt a slight surprise. After a moment, she added a couple of words in a calm tone of voice.*

"Recently you talked about wanting the three of you to approach this matchup as good mates, but I didn't think Theo was doing that bad. Admittedly, I don't follow OWA that closely, so maybe I missed something. i just always thought, he's a kid who's been babysited by everyone, so when things don't go his way, he goes crazy and does stupid things. But, maybe there is some bad emotional state behind it. However...Didn't you say that you trust them to take it all calmly?"

"Not really. I said, I believe in them. And if I'm being honest, I know that Chris can handle that, because he can control his emotions much better. However, I'm sure Theo will snap very soon, and then it will only get worse. And I really don't want to lose another friend, especially on his own wish. Chelsea. I'm tired of seeing how everyone is gone. All I ask for is a moment of peace."

*Chelsea was about to say something else, but the kids started knocking on the window. So they both went home to have a family dinner.*

24.04.2023 Osaka, Japan - Osaka Metropolitan University Hospital

*The next day, as part of his further education, Arata began his internship at a hospital, affiliated with his university. He had worked in such a place before, but this time he had way more qualifications. Due to his current job, he couldn't do it on a daily basis, but he was still very happy to be able to do some work in the hospital from time to time. Though, he sometimes felt uneasy about that. Wrestler and doctor. It was quite an odd combo, that would have put many patients off. There would also be those who would certainly undermine his competence, only through the prism of what he is known for. Although he had never experienced such treatment before, he was sure that sooner or later it would happen. Despite these irritating fears, Arata's day passed quite peacefully, and as he walked home, he felt a certain inspiration. Even though his opponents from the OWA5 weren't very talkative, he felt there were still some things he hadn't said.*

*As the recording begins, the camera catches the entire silhouette of Arata Asakura. The man is wearing a white shirt, black tie, gray suit pants and black leather shoes. At the top of his shoulders he has a white doctor's gown, and round glasses with a gold frame can be seen on his nose. Arata keeps his hands in his pants pockets and slowly walks towards the camera. After a while it zooms in, so that we can see him from waist up. Without stopping even for a moment, the man begins to speak. His voice is calm, but there is a hint of worry in it.*

Desire to fulfill your dream and self-destruction are two completely different things, but unfortunately they follow the same path. Although it may not seem so at first glance, it is simply a fact. The problem is, we don't see it until it's too late. What does the pursuit of a goal mean to us? Hard work, determination and taking risks. However, everything has its limits. Of course, I've always thought that putting in a tremendous amount of effort is important, and I can't judge anyone for that, because I am doing the same. However, at some point, the boundaries of common sense are crossed. At that very moment, we think we are helping ourselves to become better, but unfortunately we are doing the opposite. We destroy our own body, because we do not know how much it can take. What we don't understand is that in order to evolve our limitations, we can't mindlessly force ourselves and think that it will solve the problem. Because when the consequences finally show up, our head also gets damaged. Lack of control over the body often leads to failures, and they infect the brain like an incurable disease. As a result, a man is locked in this murderous cycle or ruining your health and having no good results from that. Something they can't break through. But why? Because it is this cunning self-destruction that stretches out its hand, pretending to be what achieving success is. And this is how many young people with great potential end their careers, before they can reach their peak. Not because they want to. They simply can't do it anymore.

It's not a sin to try, but you can't be a mindless idiot. You always have to know what your possibilities are. You simply can't throw yourself into deep water, when you don't know how to swim. Especially when it's not the best time for you. It may seem like a distraction from your problems, but sooner or later it will turn into a heavy stone tied to your ankle, dragging you to the depths of the ocean. Do you understand what I mean, Theo? With all due respect, but you're not ready for Clash, or even our next match. I'm not saying this to hurt you, or provoke you. I still want to handle this without drama. I'm saying this because I'm just worried about you. I've been watching you for the last few months, and I have no doubt that you're overwhelmed by a lot of things. Your outbursts of anger, arguments with friends are just the tip of the iceberg of what you really feel. What do I mean by this? Anger is always a great cover for fear. And even if you don't admit it, I know how anxious you are. From the moment you set foot in this industry, you were surrounded by people who cared about you. They were the ones who gave you directions and made decisions for you, and you could shine as a new young star. However, when you started walking through the path of career on your own, you began to understand how difficult it is. You started to feel the pressure and that everyone around you was right. You began to believe that you were clumsy without a group of people, who surrounded you like a protective shield. You couldn't assess your limits because you don't even know them. They always did it for you and that's why you could feel like you are the best in the world. However, reality is brutal, isn't it, my friend? You finally found out that this career path is not filled with rainbows and unicorns. And what happened then? You showed us your bad side...the side of spoiled brat. Still, none of us turned our backs on you, but don't get me wrong. We won't babysit you, Theo. We won't let you drag us down with you, if you keep on being reckless. So please, get your shit together. See a specialist, because at the moment, your place is not in the ring. Just fucking look at yourself, Theo! You're just a scared kid, who doesn't know what to do, and is desperately looking for answers. And since you can't find it, you're blaming others, Theo. So let me tell you something as a friend. You know why you're not an OWA World Champion yet? Not because of Rin, Havoc or god's wish. You're just not ready to take responsibility and this is what this belt is all about. You can't control your life, so you can't even come close to having authority over the whole brand. And I know you're gonna get upset 'cause it's me AGAIN, telling you this brutal truth. But I really can't watch how you ruin your life, Theo. It's sad to see you put the final nail in your coffin.

You are different from him, Chris. Even though you have been through hell on Earth yourself, you are somehow able to deal with all these emotions. Emotions that strong, they are killing from inside. Or you're rather pretending, because you don't want Hana to feel even more guilty. Anyway, you're able to keep your cool, and I respect that. Especially since you are not only doing it for yourself, but someone you love. Not everyone would be able to do that after being possessed by a demon for a long time, and then seeing that same son of a bitch, try to take your wife away. It is miracle you didn't fucking kill yourself after all of that. Though, I'm grateful you're here with us. I'm glad I got to know you. If I'm being honest, you're like a safe point for me in this different dimension. You're the only thing that feels truly familiar to me. And do you know why? Because we're practically the same. We're like a mirror reflection, Chris. We both lived in a nightmare for years, and yet we finally managed to escape from it. Yet, we were not able to avoid the demons of our past. Both, mine and your legacy, have a mark from the monsters that took it from us. But we want to get rid of it and I believe we can make it work, Chris. The only problem is that we both have the same vision of how to do it, and unfortunately only one of us can afford it. And I'm sorry, but it will be me. I know how much you want to get the spot selection opportunity and win Clash of the Titans. Just like me you want to start with a number one to prove your worth. So it feels like the winner will be the one who wants it more than anybody else. And I swear, there's no one in this company who cares more about winning this match, just to make sure I beat everyone in Clash.

As for Goose, I still wonder what his purpose is in all this. He's been gone for so long, and now he's back, trying to impose his order in our brand. Then again, he hasn't even shown a little bit of interest since the last Kingdom. So what's the point of that whole shitty comeback? Is he really serious about returning to OWA? Or is he here to make us look like fools? So let me tell you one thing. We're not the clowns in your circus. Take this fucking match seriously, or don't show up in the ring at all. It's enough that we already have one jokester. We don't really need any more bullshit. It's just crazy how much you and Maggall have in common. Although, there is one important difference between you. Moongoose somehow made it to the Main Event. Magall was too busy crying like a bitch.

I promise you one thing, I come at OWA5, fully focused on the future. And when I say that, I don't just mean Clash of the Titans. The Outlaw Championship is also on the line and this is something I need. I have to add this title to my list of accomplishments if I want to become Grand Slam Champion in the near future. I realize I'm still missing Tag Team Belts, but it's only a matter of time. I am sure I will find someone, who would love to fight by my side and help me achieve my goal. But I shouldn't look that far. Now, all i should think about is...me entering Clash of the Titans as Outlaw Champion. And this is where my redemption arc will truly begin.

VaeVictisBD, #BeLikeBea, 'Don' Hendrix, DT The Ruler and Lazarus Arjen have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos April 24th 2023, 9:21 pm by **marielacorriveau**

Custos Sanguinum

It’s all over her.

On her hands, soaking the gear she’d been fitted with before leaving for the stadium, it’s in her hair, her nose, her mouth, it’s choking her, the smell is overwhelming. She can feel it slithering down her throat like a snake, but there’s nothing to pull out, no way to escape it. It’s become part of her, a second skin to cover her and suffocate her-

Marie stumbles out of her bed, scrambling to the bathroom just in time to empty her stomach into the antique claw foot tub. It’s hard to get anything out, she hasn’t been eating, and in between wretches she knows that she’s screaming, her nails scraping across her bare torso, raking her arms and bare thighs. She can’t get it off of her. Grief hurts, it turns out, in a very literal way, her throat shredded by her stomach acid and her screeching both. When she’s finally done, when she can rest her head against the tub and all that’s left in her are small, breathless sobs, she forces herself to look down.

Nothing. No blood, just raw red scratches from her own nails. It’s been days. She’s clean.

No, no. Not clean. She’ll never be clean again.

Marie pushes herself off the bathroom floor and walks downstairs on shaky legs, trying to keep focused only on the forward, on the walk, the tiny field of vision she allows herself until she’s outside in her backyard.

She lays down in the grass, staring up into the rainy sky, and finally feels some sort of relief. Marie closes her eyes, and this time, she doesn’t dream at all.

-

“How fucking dare you?”

Marie is in the process of cleaning her altar. The three tiered tower of candles, statues, and offerings has been stripped bare, its contents packed into boxes scattered around her room. She picks up a cleaning cloth and dips it into a still steaming pot, brimming with mint leaves and tiny lavender blooms.

“It’s not the most elegant thing I could say in response to the bullshit you spewed all over me, but it’s sure the strongest feeling I’ve got right now. You really think the best thing you could possibly do here is lecture me? Project on me? Do you think I’m stupid? No, no, don’t answer that, that’s obvious enough with these second rate mind games. Do you really think a woman who’s faced Felix Hartley, Diantha Rosso, Alyssa Grace… wouldn’t see through any of that?”

“Let’s start with the easiest bit, hein? The shit I saw coming from a mile away. My title reigns. Bad Meets Evil set a record for shortest Women’s Tag Team Championship reign that I doubt will be broken for a very long time, isn’t that right? What a nasty mark on my record. Extend grace about it if it makes you feel better, since the thing piloting your prefrontal cortex like a private jet ended that reign by killing my fucking partner. If it soothes your troubled mind, good for you, but as for me? No thanks, Hana. Your leeway means less than nothing to me, you disgust me by even mentioning it. Let’s talk about my woeful reign as Outlaw Champion while we’re at it, shall we? Let’s talk about how I lost that belt when Golden Dawn jumped Bad Meets Evil in the ring, attacked me, laid me out, and then gifted it to Ruri in a display so repulsive that she just gave the title up because she couldn’t bear to carry it anymore. Let’s talk about it, Hana, because right after that, what happened?”

“I know you remember. You saw it all, but you weren’t there. Did you feel it? Maybe that’s a cruel question, but I have it anyway. Did you feel Banshee’s blood spraying across the ring? Did you feel Violet’s blood on your face? I haven’t stopped feeling it since that day. You know how it feels to walk through a cobweb, or see a bug skitter across your arm, and the sensation doesn’t leave you once it’s gone? You feel it for hours, you could strip down and scrub every inch of your body, but as far as that same body knows, you’re covered in them. You can never be clean.”

“And despite everything, despite the fact that you’ve washed your hands of it, claimed that because you were his tool, it has nothing to do with you, you still gloat about it, while simultaneously talking about how very very hard it was for you to be possessed. Oh, câlice, how I wish I could extend you some fucking kindness for that, but I can’t. I think you’re full of shit, Hana. I think you want it both ways, you want to wallow in your self loathing and get sympathy for your terrible suffering and take credit for the wins that happened when Havoc was wearing you like a fleshy Muppet. Havoc was always with you, Hana. You can claim that because they didn’t break the neck of everyone who challenged you for that title, you won it on your own. But they were still there, stamping an asterisk next to everything your body accomplished. You might want to take credit for the good while disowning the bad, but I’m not going to let you have your contradictions. You’ve shown all of the integrity of a gas station condom, and I’m about as likely to trust you.”

Marie sets the cloth aside and stares at the empty altar. There’s a rising, compulsive desire in her, the red and yawning want to take an ax to the whole thing, break it down into firewood, then turn to the old floors, the plaster walls. She can see herself sitting inside the inferno, a living bomb, watching the old house burn, all of the precious texts and ancient relics inside turning to ash. Not one of them saved her friends. Not one of them brought her what she needed. The soft heart inside her cautions her, begs patience, tells her that magic has never been arithmetic.

Sometimes the answer to the petition is no. Sometimes you can give everything and still get nothing in return.

No, not nothing.

“I traded it all… for you.” Marie breathes. “The most expensive soul in history. Banshee. Violet. Jeff. How’s that for rule of three, huh? Jeff is back, and I am… comforted by that. I am comforted by the fact that even in the depths of my grief, I am not alone. I have lost my sisters, but I still have friends beside me. I have Thotline, even now that the war is over. If I didn’t…”

The inferno fills her mind again.

“I told Jeff, before all of this came to its conclusion, that I understood why he made his deal with Havoc. And I did understand. In the cavern of my mourning for Banshee, I understood how someone could trade themselves for their friend. How a deal with the devil could be the only reasonable path forward. I was so… angry, when he did it. So angry and so scared that we would lose a good man, and then I lost her, and it all made sense in a way it hadn’t before.”

“But when my turn came, I made a very different deal. I looked Death in the face, and I gave my consent for him to keep my partner. I want you to think about what that means.”

“What kind of woman holds out her own heart for the Grim Reaper, Hana? Does that sound like someone you want to underestimate?”

“You still talk about me like a Make a Wish kid you plucked out of a hospital ward. Not someone who has been here for a year, who has been scratching her way from title shot to title shot, and then from title to title, a genuine competitor, a real fucking wrestler who would give anyone on this roster pause. No, not to you. To you I'm a sad little thing full of hatred that I can't bear to show, isn't that right? It's about the only thing you've been straight about, how sure you are of that."

“Instead you seem to love to imply things about me, Hana. Giggle behind your hands like a mean girl at a summer camp and suggest something about me and then immediately disown it after you’ve spoken it into existence. Imply I simply want to be handed a reign. Imply my grief was fixed by a title shot, that I’m so heartless a belt makes up for my loss. You can take it back as fast as you want, Hana. Disavow it as something you wouldn’t really take seriously, no, not you, you know much better than all of that. You still said it. Be a fucking coward if you want, pretend you don’t mean it, pretend you’re a better person than you are. It’s not slick, it’s not cute, it’s schoolyard bullshit.”

She drops the cleaning cloth into the pot, not even noticing how the water has begun to bubble again, spitting out steam and bits of herbs as boiling water splashes over the metal rim and flecks her white dress with dark spots.

“But okay, let’s get to the meat of things. Let’s talk about your baiting me, lecturing me, talking about me like you have a window into my soul, like you have any idea how I feel or what path I’m on.”

“You’re right about one thing. It was tough to look at you when you came to see me. I wish you’d given me more time to grieve before I had to put on a brave face. Because, truthfully, I don’t hate you for what Havoc did. But I sure resent the hell out of you for coming to me less than a month after I lost my partner to have a little talk about it. That’s not a lot of time to come to terms with what I went through. It felt like you were just using me to make yourself feel better, like giving me a title shot at OWA 5 could absolve all your self hatred, all those lingering doubts about what was you and what was Havoc. You thought you could give me a treat, and a pat on the head, and everything would be better. That’s all it takes to fix the gaping wound left by Havoc, right? Of course you can’t fathom the idea that I would ever win. It’s just a token gesture. You lose nothing at all, because I’m just the silly sidekick with the good heart, and giving me a shot, well, it would turn your first match back into the climax of your redemption story, when you haven’t even bothered to start the book at the fucking beginning.”

“Let me explain something to you about redemption. You need to earn it. You need to take a long look at yourself and accept you need to be redeemed. I haven’t seen that from you, Hana. Just a bunch of braggy bullshit and oh poor me whining. It was awful bring possesed! So terrible that it puts your pain on the level of everyone else’s! You need this to prove you really are such a very special girl who really does deserve to be on top! Won’t someone think of poor Hana Nakajima, who now has to deal with absolutely NO CONSEQUENCES for the last year’s carnage?! Redemption stories don’t generally involve the person who wants redemption sitting at the top indefinitely and only briefly stooping to acknowledge the people who got hurt before going on with their lives. I am not a fucking footnote to your story, and neither are my girls.”

“You want redemption? I’ll give you a real shot at it, Hana. I’ll knock you down to nothing. I’ll lay you lower than that demon ever did, cherie. Let you really prove that you can do it without Havoc, let you try to earn something without him, crawl your way back up the card while I bring honour to the names of my lost sisters with the Goddesses Championship.”

“If I know this belt won’t solve my grief, though, then why fight for it? If I don’t hate you, why do I want to beat you so badly? Why do I want to break your body and bring you to the brink? Why does this belt, and this shot, matter so much?”

Marie stares up at the bare bones of her altar. It has to be something else now, doesn’t it? She can’t build the same thing on the charred ashes of the past. She’s the last one left alive of her short lived sisterhood, the sole survivor, an endangered species on the Odyssey roster.

A relic of a war they had won at terrible cost. A piece from a finished puzzle, magic in a world that doesn’t need it anymore.

“Challenging for this title was one of the last things my partner did in this world. One of the last things that happened before we went to war and I lost everything. My wyrd sisters. My triple goddess. My Ekati of the crossroads, my trio of Brighids, my many named Erzulie. I can’t change what happened. I can’t undo their unwilling sacrifice. I can’t turn away from my own deal with Death, and I pray that they understand what I did for the world.”

“If they don’t, then when my time comes… there are worse hells than the vengeance of the ones you love, hein? I miss them so much… I would welcome that. I will welcome that. But I can’t undo what I did, and I can’t apologize for it either, because it was the right thing to do. Surely you can understand that, hein? Even a woman who gave nothing, who gives NOTHING, and acts like she deserves for the story to rest on HER redemption, has to understand that.”

“No. I can’t make you understand that either.”

“What I can do is wear their names on my gear when I break your body and take your ill gotten gains. I can show the world that the Hex Girls are not gone because two of us are lost. I love what we were too much to lay it all in the grave beside them. You may have missed all of this because you were being ridden by a demon, following his instructions like a well trained mare, but Violet and I had a purpose. We didn’t just get together for a newly minted tag championship. We did it because we believed in something. Because we knew that as monstrous as we were, we could bring people like us hope. They wouldn’t want me to let go of that. The triple goddess has to survive, and it will survive through this title. Everything I do now?”

“I do it for them. For our purpose, our mission, for the exquisite monsters who saved humankind from ruin. So that no one ever forgets what was sacrificed to make the sun rise on a world without Havoc.”

“You’re right, Hana. This isn’t my redemption story. It’s not a redemption story at all. It’s a hero’s journey. You’re not finishing Havoc’s work here, cherie. I won’t let you use me that way. I will not be your stepping stone to a hollow unearned redemption.”

She looks up at the camera, one hand gripping her altar, sending curls of smoke into the air as her fingers burn the dark stained wood.

“I’m not a liar, Hana. I am a warden. I have kept all of my grief, all of my anguish, all of my fury, caged since the day we lost Banshee. I told myself it was the right thing, because you couldn’t be blamed, you were just a twenty one year old girl being puppeted by a monster, but I was wrong. Thank you for giving my rage a place to go, Hana. Thank you for giving me the signal I needed to unlock the cell door and let out everything that’s been so carefully held inside.”

“Thank you for showing me that Havoc only gave you the permission you needed, and all of the cruelty left behind is the true you. You are the monster, Hana Nakajima.”

“But the gate is open now. The fallen angel is waiting. The gibbet is ready.”

“And when I’m done, you’ll curse Havoc for not burning me when they had the chance.”

VaeVictisBD, Jeff X, #BeLikeBea, Rebecca Filth, 'Don' Hendrix, Remington Ivory Prescott, DT The Ruler and have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos April 24th 2023, 6:33 pm by **Quinn**

ellie quinn // days of future past

It’d been so long, she’d almost forgotten where the on button was for her camera. Now, sat on her couch with a cigarette hanging out of her mouth was Ellie Quinn, the Most Miserable Bastard in professional wrestling. Her leather jacket is zipped and buckled up to hide her torso from view, dark denim jeans ripped at the knees hanging loose on her legs. Combat boots laced up and ready to kick someone in the ribs until they shatter. A far different Ellie Quinn than the one who was left dejected and defeated over five months ago the last time she had the chance to grasp that OWA Sparks Championship.

Reaching into the pocket of her jacket, Ellie brushes her bangs out of her eyes with her other hand before tugging a lighter out. Guarding the flame as she flicks it to life, she lights that addictive stick to get that nicotine high she craved. Her first in weeks. Almost orgasmic sensations of the end of a drought, a withdrawal as she takes a long, slow drag. Blowing the smoke out like a dragon of medieval times…right before it was ready to scorch the Earth. Right before she was ready to scorch the Earth. Letting out a long, drawn out sigh, Ellie inhales and exhales, puff after puff of smoke as she stares towards the ceiling. Knowing that after OWA5…there’s no turning back.

“Five months. Five long, agonizing months. For five months, I was left on the sidelines. Not cleared to compete. Told over and over and over again I’m not ready to come back. That I can’t pass some stupid concussion protocol put together by a bunch of frauds in lab coats who don’t know a damn thing about professional wrestling. It’s a bunch of nonsense, if you ask me.”

“So, I’m sure the question is: Why, Ellie? Why now? Why Dr. Hastings? Why Jessica? Why Bea? Why not Felix? Why not Thotyssey? And the answer is…because it was never about Felix and the bimbo brigade. It was never about BIANCA running away to Japan because she’s too much of a fucking pussy to face me in a fair fight. Hell…it’s barely even about the OWA Sparks Championship at this point.”

“You want to know what it’s about? It’s about this.”

Reaching her hand into her leather jacket, Ellie pulls out a picture. A picture of a blood-soaked Ellie Quinn in a Killjoy Club shirt. Being dragged kicking and screaming away from the Cage of Death at Kingdom Pro’s final show. The death of Killjoy Club. The death of the only real family she’d ever truly had.

“The one word that’s been eating away at me for the last five months: TAKEN. Killjoy Club was taken from me by an alliance put together just to get rid of us. My Kingdom Pro Atlantic Championship was taken from me in that match by Remington Ivory Prescott. The chance to make a first impression in OWA was taken from me by BIANCA. The chance to become OWA Sparks Champion was taken away from me by Felix Hartley. Five months of my career, of my life was taken from me by a concussion and doctors who wouldn’t let me get back in that ring and kick Felix Hartley so hard in the chest that her fake tits pop.”

“...Well I’m sick and fucking tired of everything being taken away from me, being ripped out of my hands. So now, I’m going to take everything away from everyone on Odyssey. And it starts at OWA5 when I take away Jessica Rose’s last remaining bit of relevance. When I take away Bea Havertz’s pretty face. And especially…when I take Dr. Bethany Hastings’ OWA Sparks Championship.”

Tossing the photo out of her hand, Ellie lifts a leg up, placing a combat boot up on the coffee table in front of her. Pulling out her phone, she loads up the OWA roster page, loading up Bea Havertz’s profile. Leaning in, she pushes her phone up to the camera up close and personal.

“Bea Havertz. The walking personification of white privilege. The princess of prim and proper. Never met a pair of designer shoes or a designer purse that her daddy wouldn’t pay for. Yeah…safe to say you and I have been on the polar opposites of life’s spectrum our whole lives. My dad hated my fucking guts and kicked me out at 16, while you’re still living off your dad’s credit card. Needless to say, we are nothing alike, and quite frankly, the world is a much better place because of it.”

“See, the thing that gets me is that even without Daddy’s influence, read: big fat check to Scott Oasis to get you in the door or Angelina put in a good word, you could’ve gotten here all by your little self without anyone else’s help. But, ye of the upper crust and maids and personal chauffeurs have never been the type to actually bother putting in any actual effort, are you? No, you’re just like every other spoiled rotten brat who has ever walked through that door, Bea. And I’m going to be the one to throw you out on your ass through that exact same door.”

“So, Pheebs, can I call you Pheebs? Ahh, who cares, Pheebs, your daddy either paid for your contract or maybe you or your best bud Angie sucked…up to the right people to get you the job. Congratulations, Pheebs! You finally made it! We’re all so proud of you…for being Remington Ivory Prescott with a set of tits and a bigger dick. But now that you’re here, your daddy ain’t going to be around enough to protect you from what I’m going to do to you…and then you can start calling me Daddy instead, babygirl.”

Ellie pulls her phone away and looks at it before she taps away on it, pulling up Jessica Rose’s profile.

“Jessica Rose. The Ghost of Odyssey’s Past. Hair looking like you just got a pint of Neapolitan ice cream dumped on your head. Full of piss and vinegar, but when you get in that ring with me, that piss is going to be rolling down your leg. Choked harder in every chance you had than Felix Hartley chokes on Jeff X’s cock. You choked so goddamn hard on every opportunity that was handed to you on a silver goddamn platter that your soul finally had enough and left your damn body and now you’re just as much of an emotionless husk as that roided up freak Leona. Whoop. De. Fucking. Do.”

“See, nobody here feels bad for you for failing. Trust me, babe, I learned that first hand. The old choke artist meets the new choke artist. Only difference is, you’re still stuck in neutral while I’ve put all that shit behind me and slammed my foot on the accelerator. Now, instead of being the bridesmaid, I’ll finally be the bride, and you’ll still be a choke artist. Sucks to suck. This is a sink or swim business, and if I have to step on you to keep my head above water, don’t think I’ll hesitate to do it.”

“You’re like the…like the Milky Chance or the Trapt of Odyssey. And for those of you asking ‘Who!?’ right now? You’re proving my point exactly. You’re a one-hit wonder, you peaked early and now everyone looks at you and says ‘Oh yeah, wasn’t she that one girl who was on the first OWA show with Aria Jaxon and Savannah Sunshine? Whatever happened to her?’ and not even realize you’re still here. And you’ll fade away further and further into the distant past after OWA5.”

At last, Ellie pulls the phone away one more time, scrolling until she gets a picture of the incumbent champion, Dr. Bethany Hastings.

“And then there’s you. The good doctor. PHD in QAnon conspiracy theories or something, yeah? What’s up, Doc? Stuck an ice pick and some HGH in your patient and turned her into your bodyguard-slash-crutch to stand on, Leona. I would’ve said you brainwashed her, but Leona would have to have a brain to wash. You’re on Fox News more than your king without a throne Donald Trump these days. Shown on Russian TV more than footage of the Ukraine invasion because you’re deepthroating every right-wing pundit you can find. You’re a poser. You’re a grifter, and you’ve been a grifter your entire miserable life.”

“It’s such a shame, because hey, lord knows I’d never have the IQ or the checkbook to get a PHD from Yale. I’d never have the patience to write, or have someone ghostwrite, multiple bestselling books. But the thing is…if you had the checkbook to get into Yale, if you had someone ghostwrite all those bestsellers…then what exactly have you accomplished on your own, Doc? Hell, you couldn’t even win the Sparks Championship on your own! You needed help from Diantha, from the belt itself, from Leona, and from Felix not being 100% to even win the championship that currently sits on the mantle in your office like any other trinket.”

“See, Doc, you’re not respected for your in-ring work, you use too many shortcuts for that. You’re not respected for your work as a psychologist, or else someone would be paying you right now to figure out if they have bipolar disorder or depression or Trump derangement syndrome or whatever! See, you’re famous because you’re the one that Tucker Carlson calls up these days only because Kanye West finally went off the reservation. You’re not a revered and respected psychologist or pro wrestler, you’re a whore who puts herself out to anyone who will let her spew her rhetoric that these brainless, spineless beta cucks slurp up like gruel. You are example numero uno, Exhibit A of what is wrong with society today. You want a case study? You want a self-absorbed narcissist to write a bestseller about? I got one for you, but you’re really not going to like what you see when you look in the mirror, Doc.”

Before she further works herself up over mindless politics, Ellie just tosses the phone aside. Taking a deep breath, Ellie cracks her neck before continuing.

“Has it been smooth sailing for Ellie Quinn since I got to OWA? The opposite. I’ve been screwed over, I’ve been stuck with a tag partner I hated, I was in some stoner cuck’s acid trip, and worst of all, right when I had my hands on that Sparks Championship, it was ripped out of my hands at the eleventh hour. Then, I got tossed to the side while new challengers were found, new opportunities were given out, and I was on the sidelines watching the sand from that hourglass trickle through my fingers. But am I mad about it? Fuck no. I picked myself up, dusted myself off and I got my shit in order. In case you care or want to know, I got myself sober for the first time since I was 17 years old. So yeah, that’s nice, I guess?”

“But now, I take a look at the state this division is in and it makes me want to go right to the nearest ABC store and buy my entire body weight in Jack Daniels and drink myself half to death. I’m not mad that things haven’t gone my way, trust me, I’m not. In fact, all that failure, all that time I spent scratching and clawing to break down that glass ceiling over my head just makes me that more ready, that more hungry to kick that door down and make all three of you my bitch at OWA5. Because right now, the Ellie Quinn you’re looking at right now is one that nobody in this company has seen before…well, except for Felix. Except for Prickscott. Except for my brother in blood, Lazarus Arjen.”

“See, I had a long, hard conversation with Laz during my time away. Here…I even recorded it for you.”

“...Ever thought about getting the band back together?”

“...The fuck even are you, Quinn?”

“Right now? Like 20,000 feet up. I don’t really give a fuck. Need some time to clear my head.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Feel like nothing’s going right. Feel like I need eyes in the back of my head. Feel like drinking until they need to pump my stomach. Feel lost, dude.”

“Well, you know what happened the last time you were lost. You found a way to get past it.”

“Yeah, I know what I did.”

“You regret any of it?”

“Fuck no.”

“‘Atta girl. Everything you and I do is a clusterfuck, El’. That’s just how we operate. We are who we are. That’s why we’re family.”

“You tell them where I am?”

“Nah. Told them you went back to the hotel.”

“Don’t catch shit because of me, dude.”

“It’s in our DNA.”

“I know. And that’s why almost all of Olympus wants your head on a spike, and why all of Odyssey has me pulling my fucking hair out.”

“Good thing we’re both used to an entire company wanting to rip us apart…I need to go. He needs me.”

“Do what you have to do.”

“Could say the same to you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Remember the Ellie Quinn that did whatever she had to do to get her hands on that Kingdom Pro Atlantic Championship?”

“...What're you getting at?”

“Let her back out.”

“The fuck do you mean? I’ve always been the same Ellie Quinn.”

“No, you haven’t. The Ellie Quinn I knew was a fucking killer. The Ellie Quinn I’ve been seeing on Odyssey has been a punching bag, and you and I both know that. That’s why you asked if I thought about getting the band back together.”

“You know what KJC meant to all of us…especially to me.”

“I know. But right now? What you need to do is do exactly what we did to KPro: You need to grab the Odyssey brand by the fucking balls, take that shit over and never look back. We’ll talk later, I gotta go.”

“...See girlies, it’s a clean slate for me. The old, sappy, ‘happy to be here pal!’ Ellie Quinn is long, long gone. I’m not here to play nice. I’m not here to make friends. I’m definitely not here to make any fuckin’ friends. Nah…I’m here to take championships off of carcasses. I’m here to make this whole entire roster taste their own goddamn blood. See, when I first came to OWA, I tried to play nice. I tried to be the good guy. I tried my damnedest to wear the white hat. But let’s be honest with each other: I just look so much goddamn better in black.”

“I learned that as soon as I walked through the doors, I got complacent. I got sloppy. I got careless. See, I shouldn’t have walked through the doors with a simple ‘how do you do’, I should’ve kicked the doors down and made this place mine from day fucking one! But, as they say…you live and let learn. I’m not the type to run from a burning building, I’m the type to pull up a chair, kick my feet up and watch it burn to the ground before my very eyes.”

“The Ellie Quinn you saw before I came back with a bang was weak. That Ellie Quinn was…was indebted to pay for all of her sins. But now? I’m not going to pay for all of my sins, I’m going to build a monument for them. The only debt I have to pay now…is to my brother in blood, to Laz, for awakening something in me that should’ve never, ever been put to bed. And the only way to pay that debt is to sacrifice everyone else’s hopes and dreams for my own personal happiness, for an enjoyment that I haven’t felt since the letters K-J-C were emblazoned across my chest.”

“When it gets down to it, am I ashamed of the person that I’ve become? Absolutely not. Because really, my upbringing, my livelihood, that is what made me the person I’ve become, the sick, bloodthirsty rottweiler that I’ve become. Every drop of ink that’s been drawn into my skin, every scar on my body that I can run my fingers across, they tell the entire life story of Ellie Quinn and I will forever and always be proud of that. I used to look in the mirror and wish I could look at anything else. Now, I look in the mirror with a smile on my face that even scares the living hell out of me sometimes.”

“I’ve broken bones and spilled blood on five different continents. I’ve waged more wars than Germany. I’ve shortened more careers than the minimum wage crisis. I’ve crippled more people than polio. And by god, that’s just the fun of it all. Knowing that every drop of blood, every drop of sweat, every tear I’ve shed went towards the suffering of everyone around me, it makes me feel whole. It makes me feel alive. As much as I wanted to just…be a different person, be a good person, it’s just not possible for me to do that, as much as I tried to make it a reality.”

“As much as I just desperately wanted to be a new woman, there’s no escaping that side of me that finally made me something less than a complete and utter joke. There’s no real palpable way to lock away that dark, twisted side of people like us or else it just eats you alive. See, when it gets down to it, Laz and I are kindred spirits, bonded souls. Because the truly vile, evil people that you come across in life, they just can’t pretend to be anything else. They are exactly what they are.”

“My name is Ellie Quinn, and I am a vile, evil person.”

#BeLikeBea, 'Don' Hendrix, Lazarus Arjen, Felix Hartley and Dr. Bethany Hastings have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos April 24th 2023, 6:32 pm by **Aria Jaxon**

I’LL STARE DIRECTLY AT THE SUN, BUT NEVER IN THE MIRROR. | NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK.

Thursday, April 20, 2023
War Room Dojo
7:04 AM

Thud.

Aria’s body hit the canvas with a muted thumping sound. Something about that shoulder block from Stephanie had felt particularly vicious, though Aria wasn’t convinced that it was as if her best friend had hit her extra hard or anything. It was like gravity was working against her, and unfortunately, the thoughts swirling around in her head seemed to weigh a ton.

Looming above her, Stephanie tilted her head quizzically and stared at Aria for a couple of moments before reaching a hand out to help pull her tag team partner up to her feet. Just as Aria sighed and took Stephanie’s hand, Matsuda let go and sent Aria falling back onto the mat.

“Matter of fact, stay down there,” Stephanie remarked.

Aria’s mouth was agape. “The fuck?!”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Stephanie replied, shaking her head and chuckling. She sat down on the mat beside Aria and crossed her legs. “I just felt like we needed to talk, so it made more sense for you to stay your ass down there.”

Aria glared at her. “You and I both know it’s too early for your shit.”

Stephanie laughed. “You and I both know you and Aren have been up since at least 5:00 dealing with the baby. I’m calling your bluff.”

Aria shrugged. “When you’re right, you’re right.” She mimicked Stephanie and crossed her legs as well. “So why are we down here like kindergarten kids getting ready for story time? I thought you were gonna help me get ready for this title match.”

Stephanie eyed her. “I am helping you,” she shot. “Right now, I’d argue that the mental aspect of all this shit is more important than the physical aspect.”

Aria didn’t think there was anyone else in the world that she trusted more than Stephanie to put her through her paces before stepping into the ring for the chance to become OWA World Champion again. It wasn’t an opportunity that she expected. And hell, if Oasis wasn’t such a stickler for nostalgia or wanting to celebrate how far OWA had come in five years, she didn’t know if she’d actually be competing for a world title just two matches into her return run – after already losing in a title match, no less.

Sure, everyone who’d seen Kingdom 100 knew the truth. For the Minorities felt their World Tag Team Championships slipping away and left to their own devices, they knew that they’d have lost. They did what weak men did whenever they were faced with their power being dented – they sent a woman to do their dirty work. A well-placed Bloody Moon from Diantha had proven more impactful than anything Raivo or DT could’ve dished out on their own. Still, a moral victory was little more than a synonym for loss, and Aria hated few things more than losing.

She liked to believe that two completely different matches with two completely different sets of circumstances surrounding them had nothing to do with each other. Objectively, that was true. The outcome of one match had nothing to do with the outcome of the other. She could be robbed of her chance to become a two-time World Tag Team Champion and still leave MSG as a two-time OWA World Champion. At this exact moment, she couldn’t say there was anything she wanted more. For some reason, though, there was some mental block that had thrown itself up, a wall that she couldn’t get over. Stephanie knew that, and she knew that all the training in the world wouldn’t matter if Aria couldn’t tackle that before OWA Five rolled around.

Stephanie gestured to the ring around them. “You never lost a step when it came to all of this,” she mused. “All your time away, the physical toll that it takes on your body trying to get back in fighting shape after having a baby…you pushed through it in a way that I don’t think anyone else has. When that bell rings, you’re in a class of your own. Deep down, I believe even you know that – which is why this bitch gnawing at the back of your mind has to shut up. Whoever she is, she’s making you doubt yourself.”

“She's a bitch, isn't she?" Aria remarked bitterly. “I’m putting all this shit on my own shoulders. When the time comes for the four dudes in this match to start gagging on my name, I’ll remind them that I’m not doing any of this for them. It’s got nothing to do with their expectations or anyone else’s. I’m just…stuck at this point where I expect a lot from myself. I didn’t think I’d have a chance so soon to rocket back up to the spot where I used to be. That’s what’s at stake. That spot at the top of the mountain that I got so used to.”

“So take your ass back up there, then,” Stephanie replied. “You were the hottest prospect on the block when Stark’s loser ass was bopping down the ramp to Taylor Swift. You were holding this place down when Bishop was at home rehabbing that bum leg. You were the best in the game when the parole board was pondering the pros and cons of letting Jeff out. You were already winning titles and taking names, dripping in gold since way back when Kenny was wasting his time fucking around with JD Damon in the Jersey prison camp.” Matsuda rolled her neck to either side before bringing herself back up to a vertical base. She looked down at her tag partner. “Whether anyone will admit it or not…that mountain you’re talking about? You’ve got more experience than anyone in this match when it comes to climbing to the top – and surviving at the high altitudes. The air is too thin up there for these boys. That’s your wheelhouse. It’s high time you learned to enjoy the view from up top.”

A smile slowly crept across Aria’s face as she watched Stephanie’s hand crane down in her direction. “Well, shit. Let’s get to climbing.”

***

OWA Five – remember when a bunch of niggas in NYC’s asshole said we’d never make it this far?

The dirtsheets had a field day with the Exodus – it was such a big deal that SSW’s first pay-per-view was named after it. A bunch of wrestlers who had enough decided to break out from the big, bad “industry standard” and create something grander for themselves. From its humble beginnings in the OWA Arena, this company has grown into something marvelous. I’m fortunate to say I’ve been part of the process.

Five years ago, you’d never have heard me say that. Everyone remembers the massive chip that 2018 Aria Jaxon had on her shoulder. Walking out of companies with belts around her waist, joining OG Phantom Troupe, dying her hair black, being a general menace to society…I can now say with a laugh and almost zero irony that I was acting out like a teenager tasting their first bit of freedom. Still, that’s the beauty in all of this; OWA has grown, and so have I. As this company – which I helped put on the map – has risen to heights some may have once thought impossible, its legacy is still so intertwined with mine that when you shortlist the GOATs of this promotion, my name is always coming up in the conversation.

That’s my ticket here. I didn’t have to die. I didn’t have to shell out three hundred American dollars. I don’t have to be the sitting champion! What’s funny is that, when Stark finagles his way into a title match and catches Jason Long slipping, it’s the meme-worthy heist of the century. When I’m placed into a title match because the chairman recognizes me as one of this company’s preeminent talents, I obviously have dirt on Oasis and I’m undeserving of a spot because I had a baby. I can retire, unretire, push out a whole person, lose my GM job, show back up, win, lose, whatever – it all proves that nothing can tank Aria Jaxon’s stock, and that pisses you off. My track record eclipses the “what ifs” in such a way that I’m classified as undeniable. You can’t have a match of this caliber without me present. You not wanting to swallow that pill doesn’t make this fact any less true.

I’ll admit, a landmark show like OWA Five could go either way. It could be used as a chance to prop up the new guard and remind people of just how much longer we’ll be around as a company, or it could be a chance to look back on the people who helped make this place what it is now. Oasis chose to go the nostalgia route, and even if you got a problem with it, you’re still gonna show up. You had your chance to play around with “the future” when you took Jason’s lunch money. For someone who’s so eager to draw the line in the sand between the future and the past, it’s not like you’re a rookie, either. All this talk about oldheads, and you’ve been around longer than I have! You were already in EAW by the time I showed up, and that was eight years ago. Whatever timetable you’re abiding by, I helped lay the foundation for this company. I come back whenever I damn well fucking please. I’m the past, the present, the future – whatever I decide. A title reign is a title reign, and nobody can erase your name from the record books, but I can still cut this little moment in the sun short. I can still yank the rug out from underneath you and remind you that the days of me being a threat aren’t as far in the past as you’d like to let yourself believe. It’s very much an issue of the present day.

One constant that has linked all the phases of my career together is that I’m an unashamed accolade chaser. I’ll admit that with no provocation. Titles, tournaments, battle royals, awards, all of it…I love it all. Y’all know why? Because anyone can blow a bunch of smoke up people’s asses and talk about how they’re the best and puff their chest out. Accolades are quite literally what separates the winners from the losers. There’s only so long that you can run around as an active wrestler with no belts to your name before people start wondering why you’re even wasting your time. I’ve never had that problem. Folks can say a lot of things about me, but nobody can say that I’m not literally worth my weight in gold. I’m not printing currency with no backing.

So yes, Mike, you’ve hit the nail right on the head. This Queen is chasing another accolade, and why the hell wouldn’t I? At some point during this run – Kingdom 100 shenanigans, be damned – I would’ve turned my sights to being a champion once again. In the back of my mind somewhere, I was resigned to the idea of punching my way up the ladder, and I was more than okay with that. That’s usually how shit works. Consider me shocked when we were all thrown a curveball.

As much as I dislike losing, the only thing I dislike more is the thought of being seen as a stepping stone…and yet, that’s the function that I served for both you and Kenny. In a way, it’s also the function you ended up fulfilling in Jason Long’s story before Stark hit the stopwatch on his fifteen minutes of fame. Before you became the big bad flag-carrying OWA World Champion for months on end, you were the physical manifestation of untapped potential – and it was at my expense that the well was tapped.

I know better than most what you’re capable of, Mike. I don’t know who else has a more crystal clear picture of just how far you’re willing to go and how much you’re willing to put an opponent through to bring that picture of gold and glory into focus. But as you said, I’m a championship chaser – and that’s the easiest and oldest motive in the book. I have to overcome the odds here to show that I’m nobody’s springboard or lauded talent of yesteryear. I can’t get to where I want to be until I acknowledge where I’ve been. Becoming a two-time OWA World Champion means that I have to confront every obstacle on the path that led me to this point – and that means atoning for the fact that I was once used to put Michael Bishop’s name up on the marquee. The success you’ve attained has been hard-fought and hard-won. I know all that you’ve accomplished and all that you’ve sacrificed to achieve your dreams and provide the best possible life for Rebecca and Lita…my goddaughter. From bell to bell, you’re not my friend. You’re not the man who entrusted me with his daughter’s life. Only one of us can leave MSG with their championship dreams intact, and I have to ensure that it’s me – even if it comes at the expense of denying you the redemption and the swift return to glory that you deserve.

On the topic of men who have used an Aria Jaxon defeat to take their career to the next level – nice haircut, Kenny.

The thing that sticks out in my mind the most about the leadup to Hardcore Havoc 2019 is how often I was told by you and Niki that a place like that just wasn’t my wheelhouse. The light tubes, the Chamber win, it all paled in comparison to the bloody battles in which Kenny Drake made a name for himself. When it was all over, not only was I put in the position of being the final obstacle you knocked down to finally realize that world title dream…I had proven you right. I fell short in that “hardcore” environment. I’d lost, and all anyone could talk about was how they’d always been right about Kenny Drake. How he’d always been a star.

And yeah, they were right.

You were right.

You couldn’t wait to bring it up when you walked your ass out there on Kingdom 100, and you might’ve been the star of the show with your grand re-entry into competition if not for Jeff literally rising from the grave.

Is it bold of me to think that I’ve got any business fucking around with dudes who are quite literally willing to die over this shit, whether they’re my friends or not? Probably not.

Then again, in spite of how far I know that Jeff or Kenny would go in other situations, this isn’t a war with the fate of the world hanging in the balance. There’s no Abholos or Havoc waiting in the wings. This might sound crazy after all that I’ve said so far, but this isn’t a life-or-death situation. It’s about the OWA World Championship, and all that it could mean to any of us (except Stark) in this position.

A return to form.

Renewed hope.

A chance to start again.

I faced Jeff one-on-one when he was what, three matches into his OWA tenure? And I beat him then, back when he was brimming with promise and nothing was guaranteed. Of course, he’s not that upstart anymore. He’s not the guy that was locked up and found the solace of a second chance in an OWA ring – some people now are calling him the franchise player. Just like Kenny, who was sitting on a mound of “maybes” and “could bes” for years, until all of the pieces were put together and he ascended to near-godhood. The story of three-fifths of this match are stories of men who have known what it was like to have their rise as something that was waiting around the bend. And now, so much time has passed that they’ve been around the block, punched their tickets, and are dying to get a taste of what it’s like to be the top dog again.
Jeff’s not the upstart, he’s the poster boy.

Kenny’s not the underrated veteran, he’s the greatest storyteller we’ve ever seen, and a deathmatch legend forged in blood.

Mike’s not a gold mine of untapped promise, he’s cemented himself as one of the most formidable champions and toughest competitors that have ever stepped into an OWA ring.

With all of that being what it is, I don’t lack self-awareness. I’ll take it there – I’ve got the most to prove out of everyone in this match. Three guys in this match have beaten death, one of which has an OWA World Championship reign fresh in both his mind and the minds of the entire world. The other one, well, he is the sitting champion. So where does that leave me?

As the winner.

I don’t need to sell anyone in this match on why I'm walking out of New York with the OWA World Championship around my snatched waist yet again. Keep believing that I’m in the wrong place at the wrong time or that I’m a relic of the past or that I don’t want it bad enough. Sooner rather than later, the truth will set in that there’s only one place for me.

With my perfect ass sitting back in my throne, overlooking my Kingdom like I never fucking left.

VaeVictisBD, DampshawIIIఒ, #BeLikeBea, 'Don' Hendrix, Remington Ivory Prescott, DT The Ruler, Lazarus Arjen and have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Re: OWA Promos April 24th 2023, 4:55 pm by **#BeLikeBea**

“I am healthy, I am wealthy, I am rich, I am that b*tch, I am gonna go get that bag and I am not gonna take your sh*t. I am protected, well respected, I’m a queen, I’m a dream, I do what I wanna do and I’m who I wanna be ‘cause I am me.” - BABY TATE.

A fun little fact about me is that I hate to complain. I always find myself quite confused when I’m accused of doing nothing but complaining all the time considering how much it grinds my gears when people waste their valuable time doing exactly that but I shouldn’t really expect anybody here to be intelligent enough to be able to tell the difference between a woman complaining and a woman making astute observations and sound critiques regarding her surroundings and the situation she may ever find herself in. I’ll be the first to call a spade a spade and say that this entire situation is preposterous.

Well okay, maybe not all of it, but for the most part? This sucks.

Although I’m not narcissistic enough to believe that I should have been granted the Sparks Championship the second I strutted through these doors, (although that would have been nice and I’m sure there would have been no complaints), I do think that it’s not far fetched of me at all to say that I am the only challenger involved in this little get together that actually deserves to hold that title. If anybody is able to name three people who actually want to see Jessica Rose and Ellie Quinn in the year 2023, let alone three people who actually want to see Jessica Rose and Ellie Quinn compete for a championship in the year 2023, I’ll give you one thousand American dollars right this second.

…

That’s what I thought. Once again, I’m right and I’m rich. Life is grand.

With that in mind, it is my duty to set an example to all the impressionable young women who follow both myself and the product that OWA has been producing for half a decade now, the message that I look to send to those girls is quite simple but it is very impactful, it is a lesson that my mother, the great Charlotte Havertz instilled in me at a very young age.

The most powerful thing a woman can do is show up and show out, especially when they feel slighted.

So whilst it’s a travesty that Jessica and Ellie were even allowed back onto Odyssey and whilst there should be some kind of legal punishment for interrupting any of my well earned celebrations (my lawyer is working on it, love you Carrie), I’m not going to let my emotions alter my plans in the slightest, no, I’m far too strong willed to let anything be clouded by the fact that I’m just a teeny tiny bit upset by these circumstances. A woman of my stature, of my class, of my type, shouldn’t be made to go against individuals who will be in the deep ends of obscurity at the end of the week. A goddess shouldn’t have to kneel down and drink the same water as the peasants of the village. I shouldn’t have to dispose of Ellie and Jessica before getting my gold, but I think the entire world would rather watch me do it then watch themselves do it again. It’ll be less sad this way and I think this company could do with a break from seeing melodramatic little girls crying their eyes out because one thing didn’t go exactly to plan, it wouldn’t be foolish to assume that someone like me has never had things go wrong and gosh I wish that were the case but it isn’t. I have been left with no other choice but to craft a silk purse out of a sow’s ear multiple times and if nothing stopped me back then when I didn’t have nearly as much to my name as I do now, nothing can stop me now. In the end, whatever Bea wants, Bea finds a way to get. The incredibly miniscule amount of people who have ever had the audacity to try and tell me no have not lived to even potentially get the opportunity to do so again. I don’t care if there isn’t a single sweaty fingered soul out there who doesn’t think I’m worthy enough to be where I currently am because at the end of the day, I am here and they aren’t, I am going to be your next Sparks Champion and they aren’t.

This is meant to be.

First impressions are crucial in this world and I can proudly say that I am the only challenger who did not royally screw theirs up which adds to my legitimacy as a threat to the title reign of Dr. Hastings. Unfortunately for Jessica Rose, what she says this week will not matter all that much because the rose tinted sunglasses that the world once wore when they looked at her have been broken beyond repair. It’s baffling to me that now is the time that Jessica has decided to bother Odyssey with her existence and her unachievable dreams of being somebody again because women’s wrestling, especially here in OWA, has never been more alive, it has never been more difficult to make a name for yourself here than it currently is. If Jessica couldn’t be remarkable what.. four or five years ago when competitors such as Savannah Sunshine of all people were considered to be great then how on Earth is she going to do that now? I’m not trying to be rude or anything, I’m genuinely curious. Maybe Jessica knows that she doesn’t stand a chance and is one of those strange individuals who gets gratification from their own pain and humiliation. If that is the case then I really think that the only thing Jessica needs from Bethany is a therapy session, certainly not a title opportunity. Such behaviour shouldn’t be normalised and honestly neither should second chances. Jessica didn’t deserve her first chance and she certainly doesn’t deserve this one. Once a loser, always a loser. I almost don’t want to comment on the fact that Jessica is only back here because she physically lacks the ability to be good at literally anything else because she’s not even pretty decent at the thing she’s been doing since childhood and honestly? That’s really depressing. I have been in the world of wrestling for less than a year and I’ve only been consistently wrestling during that period for about four months and yet I’m thrice the competitor Jessica ever was and I proved that much during my debut. Yikes. Despite this, Jessica is going to promise my demise and when she fails all I can hope is that she’ll finally accept that there are some things in life that can’t be changed.

They always say, "there's always somebody better than you at what you do." What they fail to mention is that there's always somebody who's the absolute best at what you do, and that person has no superior. I'm that woman. I’ve been that woman in every aspect of life since the day I was born and walking out of OWA 5 as a champion in my second ever match for this promotion will cement me as that woman in wrestling too. I’m the present of this division and the future will be reflective of me and me alone as well. This story is one that ends with her dangling from the cliff that overlooks the sharks with barely any feeling left in her fingers. The one where her face will light up with glee once she lays eyes on the new champion standing above her, shooting her the most dazzling of smiles, a huge gush of relief will flood through her puny little body as I extend my hand ready to save her, ready to spare her life for one final time. Jessica won’t hesitate. She’ll immediately reach out and thank a God she didn’t believe in until five minutes ago that he sent me to get her out of this. She sees me as a chance. A chance to become everything she’s ever wanted to be. My hand will graze against Jessica’s and she’ll feel pure euphoria until my beautiful smile transforms into a scowl as hideous to look at as she is. My grip will loosen and immediately a sinking feeling will fall onto the pit of her stomach. She’ll then know what’s coming. She’ll fight hard with the fate that she’s about to meet and that unbearable accent of hers will begin to plead and beg. “Please don’t end me, Phoebe!” “I’ll do anything! I’ll be better! I’ll improve my consistency and quality of content and in-ring skills!” “Please!!” But it won’t be enough. She’ll fall deep into the darkness as the world opens up just to swallow her whole for good this time simply because I’d rather die a slow and painful death than take pity on scum like Jessica Rose.

I shouldn’t be able to repeat every last syllable that you just had the pleasure of listening to and just replace the name Jessica Rose with Ellie Quinn and somehow be even more correct but I could quite easily do that if I wished to stoop to the level of the latter. Ellie and Jessica are really just the same person, different font and unlike when that used to describe Angelina and I, this time it’s not a compliment.

There is nothing intimidating about Ellie Quinn.

Sure, she interrupted a match between - checks notes - Apollonia Cipriano and Tomomi Shinozaki and I suppose we can thank her from saving us from witnessing how embarrassing that would have been but I’m not going to sit here and pretend that she did something diabolical that has me shaking in my stilettos. In fact, the only thing that worries me in regards to sharing a ring with Ellie Quinn is figuring out how many vaccinations I’m going to need to get this week to avoid catching any disease. Hantavirus, leptospirosis, lymphocytic choriomeningitis, tularemia and salmonella are just the tip of the iceberg of maladies that Ellie’s type carries. Thank freakin’ god I have access to whatever private healthcare possible.

According to Ellie Quinn, she’s never been this brutal and bloodthirsty before, I’m not sure if that’s true or not because I couldn’t care less about whatever company she infested with whatever group of Eric Harris’ and Dylan Klebold’s she met on tumblr.com prior to stinking up the greatest promotion in wrestling today but it really doesn’t matter when all is said and done. It isn’t as difficult as you may think to steer clear of danger and considering I’ve got the biggest brain in this entire match up and have not had a platinum hair on my head be harmed, I don’t have any reason to feel anxious. I’m sure that Ellie, much like Jessica, believes that this is her chance to turn it all around and maybe in some alternate dimension that would be the case but fortunately for everybody, I am in this match and I have every intention of taking that championship back to Manhattan with me. Even if I were a decorated legend walking into this match and not the new, beautiful girl on the block, I wouldn’t care all that much about the thoughts, feelings and intentions of my opponents. Perhaps the only difference between Jessica and Ellie is that I am going to graciously opt against overlooking Ellie. I may not have any respect for her, but she does bring something to this match that I’m not familiar with when it comes to ring experience. That could give her an advantage, but well, we have all seen what happens when she’s in a position where an advantage was available for her to take so who knows? What’s next for Ellie after this I don’t know and honestly I don’t care. Best case scenario is that she scampers off to Olympus or something. Ellie Quinn is an expendable competitor, Rebecca Filth and Felix Hartley do the whole crazy chick thing better and she hasn’t made an impression at all in the time she’s been here. Meanwhile I made an impression within my first five minutes. My debut totally overshadowed Ellie’s return and as it should have done and she knows that.

Ellie is understandably threatened by me and that’s why she pulled that cute little stunt on Odyssey the other day. I love knowing that I have condos in the heads of people I wouldn’t urinate on if they were burning alive because that’s how it should be. If you’re not thinking of me then you shouldn’t have the privilege to think, let alone the privilege to speak. I think we all know what Ellie is going to say when she opens that trap of hers so why don’t I summarise it for you all now? She’s going to preach about how she’s better than me and do her damndest by snarling to convince anybody that she belongs at the top even though everybody who will listen is just going to laugh. Ellie’s self esteem is so low that she’s willing to live and die by her results in this profession and honestly that makes her abysmal excuse of a career here so far all that more hilarious. I would love to see her stand up and try to turn me into a, god I’m not very good at these edgelord threats so please forgive me if it’s not very threatening, bloodstain on the bottom of her foot but she’s not going to do that, is she? She can assault the unprepared and act like it’s something to be proud of but when she faces someone who is prepared, her entire shtick will fall right apart and I’m going to get quite the giggle out of being right yet again.

And now we move on to the only woman in this match who doesn’t make me completely lose faith in humanity.

Hello Bethany, it’s a shame that we have extra factors in what everybody knows will be our match. Two intelligent, strong and assured women competing is something that everybody should want to see and even if we may differ in lots of viewpoints, I don’t view you in the same manner I view the rest of the rats here. You should consider yourself blessed because it is excruciatingly difficult for me to find any trait in others that is worth complimenting. I hope that you are clever enough to not be so enamoured by the glitz and glamour that encompasses me because if you fail to realise that I do want this, sure it might be for reasons that aren’t exactly conventional but I do really want this, it’s going to be easier than expected to take that championship from you. I won’t blame you too harshly if your intelligence fails you but I’d hate for my hopes to be crushed like that. Your time with the Sparks championship has been.. fine, but a championship of such prestige deserves better. It deserves to be carried by somebody who is capable of bringing millions of eyes onto it, the Sparks championship deserves to be represented by someone who lights a spark everywhere she goes and the only woman in the world of wrestling currently who does that is me. It’s nothing personal Bethany and I’m sure that you’ll actually thank me for relieving you of your championship duties. You’ll have more time to do what you were born to do, write! I expect a passage in your next book to be dedicated to how great I am, hell, I’ll even be nice and do a book review on my YouTube channel so you can attract more readers, I think you’ll need that because I had a look at the reviews on Google and well, they’re a little harsh! You’re not as important to your community members as you claim to be currently but we can fix that! I’m all about doing charity work, all I’ll need in exchange for my services is that title. I promise it’ll be coming to a lavish home. :grinning:

I did not come to OWA with the intentions of changing a thing around me, Bethany may want to clean up this industry but I am not so selfless, I don’t waste my time trying to fix damaged goods because my time is far more valuable than that, life is already moving a million miles a minute and I am not foolish enough to stop for even a split second because if I do? It’d be suicide. I did not come to OWA with the intention of changing myself because my confidence is bulletproof and I’ve gotten this far being unapologetically me. I'm clearly not broken so I don’t need ‘fixing’. But I understand that a lot of things in life can change in the blink of an eye and that’s why I am extra protective and some may say.. callous when it comes to my desires. If you step in the way of me and what I want, you are my enemy. And if you are my enemy, I will put all of my power and energy into breaking you down bit by bit, I will peel back layer after layer until there’s nothing left because the less vermin desperate to get the tiniest part of my spotlight that I have to worry about, the better. If you threaten the absolute utopia that I’m in; you’re my enemy. If you even look at me in the slightest way; YOU ARE MY ENEMY! AND WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU BECOME MY ENEMY?

You get eliminated.

Diamonds are cut to last and to shine. So is Bea Havertz.

VaeVictisBD, Elijah Hampton, 'Don' Hendrix, Remington Ivory Prescott, DT The Ruler, Felix Hartley, Tyler Kulina and Dr. Bethany Hastings have spoken. It’s such good shit!

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