Feigel

Syracuse, NY — The Asylum Wrestling Society (AWS), one of the most extreme and unapologetically intense wrestling promotions in the world, is proud to announce the acquisition of the Memorial Sports Arena & Business Complex located in the heart of Syracuse, New York. This historic acquisition marks a major step forward in AWS’s continued growth and dominance across the wrestling landscape. The Memorial Sports Arena, a state-of-the-art venue with a rich legacy in New York sports and entertainment history, will now serve as a premier hub for AWS events, training, production, and business operations. The adjacent seven-story business complex will house AWS corporate offices, creative departments, talent development facilities, and exclusive merchandise and media studios. Charlie Feigel, AWS CEO & Founder: “This is more than a real estate deal — it’s a declaration of intent. The Asylum Wrestling Society isn’t just building a brand. We’re creating a movement. The Memorial Sports Arena will be the crown jewel of our chaos. Expect blood. Expect rebellion. Expect the unexpected... every night.” With a translucent mechanical roof and expansive indoor seating, the Memorial Sports Arena is a one-of-a-kind architectural masterpiece—perfectly fitting for the mayhem and spectacle of AWS programming. It will now be the official home arena for AWS flagship shows including Monday Night Ward, Respect, and Proving Ground, plus upcoming live events, tapings, and pay-per-view spectaculars. Additionally, AWS is already planning to launch several community engagement initiatives through the complex, including youth wrestling programs, open tryout events, and local partnerships to revitalize the surrounding district and bring new energy into Syracuse's entertainment scene. This acquisition represents a new era. A home for the rejected. A fortress for the fearless. A proving ground for the next generation. Welcome to the Asylum. Media Contact: AWS Public Relations Team 📧 media@awsefed.com 🌐 www.awsefed.com 📍 Memorial Sports Arena & Business Complex – Syracuse, NY Asylum Wrestling Society — Where the insane become immortal. View full article

Serenity Hunter & Carlotta Paine ~versus~ Street Royalty (Beckie Reckless & Velma Rossi) Tag Team Match Two pairs of world traveled superstars hoping to elevate themselves into the title picture. 2x Maximum Promos, 2k Word Limit View full promo

Daughters of Texas © ~versus~ World Elite AWS Squad Championships The ladies of World Elite get to unseat The Daughters of Texas from the throne of the AWS Squad Championships. 2x Maximum Promos, 2k Word Limit View full promo

The Schoner Twins © ~versus~ Lexie Laren & Mystery Partner A2W Women's Tag Team Championships A mystery partner and Lexie Laren will get an opportunity to unseat The Schoner Twins as the A2W Women's Tag Team Champions. 2x Maximum Promos, 2k Word Limit View full promo

WARNING This live event contains strong coarse language (L), and intense violence (V) which may be unsuitable for younger viewers. Do NOT try to do reenact anything you see from this event at home. ASYLUM WRESTLING SOCIETY PRESENTS 2300 Arena in Philadelphia Event Date: 05/31/2025 Event Deadline: 05/31/2025 06:00 AM A2W Women's Tag Team Championships Tag Team Match Schoner Twins ~versus~ Lexie Laren & Mystery Partner AWS Squad Championships Trios Match Daughters of Texas (Abbi Lee, Karli Rae & Averi Michelle) © ~versus~ World Elite (Lindsey Flare, Amanda Macleod & Agent Carter) Tag Team Match Serenity Hunter & Carlotta Paine ~versus~ Street Royalty (Beckie Reckless & Velma Rossi) Card is subject to change. View full card

[Scene opens in a dark, sandstorm-drenched desert with an Iraqi flag fluttering in the background. A lone torch flickers against a cracked stone wall carved with Arabic script. Amir Al-Hassan steps into frame, wearing a traditional keffiyeh and his black-and-gold wrestling robe, eyes cold, intense, unblinking.] Amir Al-Hassan: ["In Arabic-accented English"] Heh… You say you are a god, Cameron Tyler? A Rock Star God? [scoffs] Do you hear yourself; you are arrogant, delusional fool? Do you truly believe that dressing like an overgrown glam puppet from a forgotten era makes you divine? Is that what passes for godhood in your country now? Leather pants, spray tan, and dollar-store eyeliner? Ha! You are not a god, Cameron. You are not even a man of conviction. You are the byproduct of a rotting empire. An empty vessel filled with loud music, cheap perfume, and broken promises. You prance around arenas like a peacock — all feathers, no fight. But at Proving Ground, you will learn the meaning of reality. [Amir paces slowly in a half-circle, torchlight casting ominous shadows across his face.] You see, I come from the cradle of civilization. From a land older than your flag, richer in blood and sand than your spoiled country could ever comprehend. Mesopotamia — my home — where empires rise and fall. Where every man who claimed divinity was buried by truth. And truth, Cameron Tyler, is coming for you. You… you dare call yourself a god? You are comical. A parody of strength. A false prophet wrapped in glitter and lies. You sing your little songs, strut your little struts, and bathe in the adoration of ignorant fools. But in that ring, under the lights, under the weight of your own illusion… you will break. Not because I am stronger. Not because I am faster. But because I am real. [He jabs a finger toward the camera.] You are manufactured. I am forged — by war, by blood, by the fire of every drone strike and shattered city my people have endured because of people like you. You, the face of the West. You, the smiling villain. You are no god. You are the reason gods go silent. You are everything wrong with your dying culture. But let me be clear. This is not just about you, Cameron Tyler. This is judgment. You stand on a stage built by liars. I walk with the weight of a thousand ancestors. While you play air guitar, I carry the stories of martyrs in my fists. I am Amir Al-Hassan, the Punishment of the East. The Desert Storm Reborn. The Walking Reckoning. And at Proving Ground… I will expose you. [Camera zooms in on Amir’s face, sweat starting to bead across his forehead as he speaks with even more venom.] You want to talk about “star power”? Pfft. The only stars you’ll see after our match are the ones spinning above your empty skull when I drive your head into that mat. You want to talk about “godhood”? When you feel your joints twist, when your spine screams under my grip, when your lungs beg for air and I show no mercy — then you will pray. Not to your so-called god-self, but to anyone who will listen. And no one will. Because in that ring… there will be only me. And there is no salvation for the false. You see, this is what you don't understand. Wrestling, to you, is a stage. A circus. You perform. I punish. You entertain. I inflict. You prance for attention. I fight for retribution. You carry a guitar on your back? I carry rage. The rage of a generation. The fury of stolen oil, of toppled statues, of cities turned to ash. Every cheer you receive is a slap to the face of the forgotten. And that is why I must silence you. I will not just beat you. I will make an example of you. You may be AWS’ golden boy — its glittering idol — but when I’m done, there will be nothing left to worship but broken bones and bitter tears. [Amir pulls a steel chair into the frame and slowly sits down, draping his arms over the backrest like a lion ready to strike.] You see, Tyler… Rock Star God… this isn’t personal. Not yet. But it will be. When you look in my eyes and realize your gods have abandoned you… When your fans fall silent and watch their idol crumble… When your screams echo across the arena and are swallowed by silence… Then, and only then, you will understand what you were up against. I am not coming to wrestle you. I am coming to humble you. You think this is a gimmick? A game? Do you think I wear this keffiyeh for show? That I speak in riddles and rage for entertainment? No. This is not a costume. This is not an act. This is who I am. I walk with generations behind me. With holy vengeance in my veins. I will drag you from your artificial heaven, down to the sand and grit where men become monsters. And I will drag my boot across your throat as a reminder… That the gods of America are fragile. And the gods of the West… bleed. [He leans closer, eyes piercing through the camera like twin daggers.] You call yourself a Rock Star God? Good. Because false gods make the sweetest victims. And I have come to build an altar of broken idols. You will be the first. Let the world see it. Let the world watch as their loudest voice is silenced. Their golden boy turned to bronze. Their “chosen one”… exposed. When I lock in the Chains of Babylon (Rings of Saturn)… and your limbs beg for mercy… there will be no encore. When I drive your face into the mat with the Desert Verdict (BFT), no crowd chant will revive you. No guitar riff. No bright lights. Just silence. Just the truth. And I… I will stand over you, triumphant, as the world sees what happens when illusions clash with inevitability. I am the storm coming to your arena. I am the reckoning that cannot be stopped. While your people chant “USA! USA!” in blind devotion, I will answer with every suplex, every submission, every sickening impact that screams one simple message: Your gods are false. And at Proving Ground, Cameron Tyler, I will tear your altar down with my bare hands. [He rises slowly, turning his back to the camera, the Iraqi flag rippling in the background as thunder rumbles faintly in the desert sky.] You may be a star in your land, Cameron. But in mine… stars fall. Fade to black.

Name: Eirian Pierce Ring Name: The Welsh Destroyer Height: 5'4" Weight: 150 lbs Hometown: Cardiff, Wales Billed From: “The Wreckage of the Valleys” Age: 25 Alignment: Tweener (leans face with a biker's edge) Affiliation: The Reapers MC — Las Vegas Chapter Theme Music: “Fuel to the Fire” by Music Beyond Appearance & Attire: Eirian is a powerhouse in a compact frame. With piercing bright green eyes and blown-out red hair streaked with blonde highlights, she commands attention the moment she enters. Her biker-inspired ring gear includes: A black and pink leather cut branded with The Reapers, MC — Las Vegas, NV*, featuring the Grim Reaper on a chopper on the back. * Worn blue jeans with a tight athletic fit, tucked into jet-black biker boots. * A pink studded belt with a silver & purple metallic buckle. * Subtle but enhancing cat-eye makeup that adds ferocity to her look without losing femininity. In-ring, she removes her jacket to reveal a black sports top and reinforced knee pads for durability in physical matches. Wrestling Style: Hybrid Brawler/Powerhouse with Technical Submissions Eirian combines raw strength with gritty street-fight tactics and old-school catch wrestling taught to her by her grandfather in Wales. Every match feels like a pub brawl with purpose. Signature Moves: * Dragon Valley Driver – Sit-out Michinoku Driver II * Reaper’s Reign – Ground-and-pound flurry with mounted elbow strikes * High Noon Headbutt – Running headbutt from a low crouch * Welshbreaker – Back suplex transitioned into a spinebuster * Throttle Kick – Running big boot, often used as a match opener Finisher Moves: * Last Ride to Cardiff – Crucifix Powerbomb with a high-impact toss * Chrome Guillotine – Rear naked choke while mounted, ending in a body-scissors sleeper combo Character Background: Eirian Pierce was born and raised in Cardiff amidst a rough, working-class background. Her father ran a bike repair shop while her mother worked double shifts in a steel mill. Her affinity for motorcycles and destruction led her down a dark path until she found purpose in the squared circle. She left Wales at 19 and was embraced by The Reapers MC after earning her place in an underground fighting circuit in Nevada. A fiercely loyal biker with a no-nonsense edge, she doesn’t seek the spotlight — she earns it with pain and pride. Notable Quotes: * “I don’t ride for fame. I ride for legacy... and to crush bones.” * “Wrestling ain’t ballet — it’s a war on leather wheels.” * “They thought I was just another girl with an accent. Now they know I’m the last one they’ll hear.” Notable Feuds: * "The Rebel Rose" Vera Eames – A turf war between rebellious hearts * Street Royalty (Velma Rossi & Beckie Reckless) – For biker pride and turf dominance in the women's tag team scene Championships & Accomplishments: Inducted into The Reapers MC – Inner Circle* as a full patched sister (first non-American member) Catchphrase: "I don’t knock. I kick the door down and burn the house with it."

Wrestler Name: "Big" Rob Pierce Real Name: Robert Alan Pierce Height: 6'7" Weight: 333 lbs Hometown: Las Vegas, Nevada Alignment: Heel (Outlaw Enforcer) Nickname(s): * "The Reaper's Hammer" * "Sin City Juggernaut" * "The Steel Horse Executioner" Affiliation: The Reapers, M.C. (Motorcycle Club stable) Appearance: Towering and heavily built with a dominating presence Bald head with a scruffy, jet-black beard Piercings in both ears and eyebrow Intense silver eyes that reflect a cold, menacing glare Wears a black leather biker jacket emblazoned with: “The Reapers, MC – Las Vegas, NV” on the back featuring a grim reaper riding a chopper Worn blue jeans held with a distressed brown leather belt and heavy silver buckle Jet-black biker boots Often seen walking out beside his custom chopper with orange flame detailing Entrance Theme: “Fuel to the Fire” – by Raging Speedhorn Entrance Description: The arena lights dim to a burning red glow as the rumble of a motorcycle engine echoes throughout the building. A spotlight hits the ramp as "Big" Rob Pierce slowly rides his flame-covered chopper to ringside. The crowd erupts in boos and awe as Pierce dismounts, staring down the ring like a man ready to deliver judgment. He walks methodically to the ring, cracking his neck, leather jacket still on, and silver eyes locked in with deadly intent. Wrestling Style: * Brawler / Powerhouse * Ruthless, calculated, brutal * Uses heavy strikes and spine-jarring slams * Shows no mercy, prefers to injure opponents to send a message Signature Moves: * Chopper Drop – Sit-out Crucifix Powerbomb * Sin City Smash – Running big boot to the face * Concrete Slam – Swinging Side Slam * Pierce the Veil – Mounted punch barrage in the corner until the referee intervenes * Hell’s Hitch – Avalanche-style Fallaway Slam from the second rope Finisher(s): * Last Ride to Vegas – High-angled Razor's Edge into a backbreaker * Reaper’s Verdict – Devastating Running Lariat (often turns opponents inside out) Catchphrases: * "What happens in Vegas... gets buried by me." * "I don’t wrestle. I wreck souls." * "The road to hell runs right through me." * "Your ride ends here." Championships & Accomplishments: * Multiple-time Tag Team Champion in outlaw circuits across the American southwest * Leader of “The Reapers, MC” faction Backstory / Gimmick: “Big” Rob Pierce is the enforcer and spiritual cornerstone of The Reapers, M.C., a violent outlaw motorcycle gang turned wrestling stable. A former underground bare-knuckle fighter and bodyguard for a Vegas crime syndicate, Pierce transitioned to professional wrestling with the same purpose he’s always had — dominate and destroy. A man of few words and dangerous presence, Pierce uses intimidation and violence to mark his territory. Whether it's dragging an opponent's body off like roadkill or riding down to the ring like a harbinger of doom, he represents lawlessness and brute power in AWS. Pierce doesn’t just want to win — he wants to leave a trail of wreckage behind him and establish the Reapers as the deadliest force in professional wrestling.