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Number One Daron Smythe

UltraViolence Champion
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  1. Scene opens inside of a local gym in Wheeling, West Virginia. The gym is cold and dark, save for the fluorescent lights beaming down over the main wrestling ring. The faint sound of weights clanking and jump ropes snapping against the floor echoes throughout the space. The camera slowly pans across the room, taking in championship banners from various promotions that hang from the walls, a reminder of Daron Smythe’s decorated career. In the center of the room, sitting on a bench next to a pristine IWE Elite Championship, is the reigning champion himself, Daron Smythe. Smythe finishes wrapping his hands in black tape, rolling his shoulders as he looks straight into the camera with a confident smirk. Smythe lets out a slow chuckle, shaking his head before leaning forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. DARON: "Eric… I have to say, it’s been entertaining listening to you talk about your grand return. Entertaining in the same way that watching an old movie is—you know how it’s going to end, but you still sit through it for the nostalgia factor. And you, my friend, are nothing more than an old movie trying to convince everyone it still belongs in the theaters." He grabs the IWE Elite Championship off the bench and runs his fingers along its polished gold plating. DARON: "You sit there, reminiscing over the past. The AWS Ultraviolence Championship, the Society of Destruction, the history of your so-called kingdom. And I’m sure, to you, all of that still matters. But here’s the truth, Eric—history doesn’t step into the ring. Legacy doesn’t throw punches. And no amount of nostalgia is going to help you when you step across from me. I had my own legacy - my own career - but when I came to the AWS I knew none of it mattered. In this modern era in the now IWE, the past doesn’t matter. No one, not even me, can rest on their own laurels. I’ve been facing a murderers row of opponents show after show. There’s been no slowing down." He tilts his head slightly, smirking as he places the championship back down beside him. DARON: "You talk about how you’ve beaten everyone. About how your fingerprints are all over this place. But let me ask you, Eric—when was the last time you actually laced up those boots and fought in today’s era? When was the last time you stepped between these ropes and proved you can still hang with the best of the best? When’s the last time you got into the ring with people like Drake Nygma, Summer Rayne, Vin Halsted, Ace Sky? When’s the last time you got in a Wicked Games Battle Rumble? I’m a guy who has been in the wrestling business for a long time, but I’m the last guy to rest on his laurels - no matter where it is. I took my time off, but I hit the ground running in 2022. This past October, I signed with the Asylum Wrestling Society and I’ve ridden the wave of every change and every decision." He pauses, letting the silence linger for a moment. DARON: "Because while you’ve been off in semi-retirement, dipping your toes into different promotions, playing businessman, I’ve been here. Holding this championship. Defending it against the toughest competition IWE has to offer. Earning my place at the top, not because of my past, but because of my present. I could have easily gotten stuck in my past and other accomplishments I’ve had - but I chose to sign with AWS/IWE and despite all the changes, all the challenges, no matter where the company has chosen to send me, I’ve come out on top every time." Smythe stands up, pacing slowly around the ring, the championship still in his grasp. DARON: "You know, Eric, you talk a big game about how you ‘live for this.’ How this is your passion. How you’ve spent your life fighting for this industry. But let me tell you something—I don’t just live for this. I thrive in this. Every match, every defense, every single night, I prove why I’m the top name in IWE. And not only here in IWE, all over the world in several other promotions. I call myself the number one man in professional wrestling for a reason - it’s gotten to the point where I’m turning down bookings elsewhere." Smythe stops at the edge of the ring, gripping the ropes tightly, his intensity rising. DARON: "You think coming back and reclaiming your so-called throne is going to be easy? You think just because you put in the work twenty years ago that it still means something today? That’s not how this works, Eric. This business doesn’t wait for anyone. Time moves forward, and if you can’t keep up, you get left behind." He shakes his head, his expression turning serious. DARON: "And that’s exactly what’s happening to you. You see, guys like you, guys who can’t let go of the past, they always come back thinking they can just waltz in and pick up where they left off. But the reality is, the landscape has changed. The faces at the top have changed. And right now, you’re looking at the man who runs this place. You’re looking at the champion." Smythe climbs through the ropes and steps onto the apron, looking out over his empty training facility as if surveying his kingdom. DARON: "You keep calling this ‘your kingdom.’ You keep talking about how the Society of Destruction, the Children of the Damned, and all these little factions you were part of built this company. But let’s get something straight—this isn’t your kingdom anymore, Eric. It hasn’t been for a long time." He turns back to the camera, eyes narrowing slightly. DARON: "Do you really think that just because your stepfather runs this company, you’re entitled to something? That because your name was once etched in the history books, it means you still belong at the top? That’s not how this works. In this world, you don’t get by on past accomplishments. You get by on what you can still do in the ring. And as far as I’m concerned, you still have everything to prove." Smythe leans against the ropes, gripping them tightly as his voice grows more intense. DARON: "You want to talk about lineage? About how your family has held this championship before? That’s great. But let me remind you of something, Eric—holding a title is one thing. Defending it against the best in the world? That’s another." He smirks, slapping the faceplate of the IWE Elite Championship. DARON: "And I don’t see anyone taking this off my shoulder anytime soon. Especially not you." Smythe steps down from the ring and walks toward the weight rack, placing a hand on one of the heavier dumbbells before looking back at the camera. DARON: "You can try and talk your way into this, Eric. You can try and spin your return as some grand resurgence of an old legend. But at the end of the day, none of that matters when you step inside that ring with me. All that matters is whether or not you can still go. Whether or not you can still hang. And let me tell you right now—you’re stepping into my world now. And I’m not about to let some veteran trying to relive his glory days take what I’ve worked my ass off to earn." Smythe picks up the dumbbell, curling it once before placing it back down with a thud. DARON: "You say I don’t know you presently? That I’ll learn soon enough? No, Eric—I already know exactly who you are. You’re a man desperate to prove he’s still relevant. And that? That’s a dangerous place to be. Because when you start fighting for validation instead of for victory, that’s when you lose your edge. That’s when you make mistakes. And that’s when you get left lying in the middle of the ring, staring up at the lights, wondering where it all went wrong." Smythe tilts his head, his smirk returning. DARON: "And trust me, Eric… that’s exactly what’s going to happen when you step into the ring with me." Smythe grabs his championship once more, slinging it over his shoulder as he walks toward the exit of the facility. He stops at the door, turning back to the camera one final time. DARON: "Enjoy your little comeback tour while it lasts, Eric. Because soon enough, you’re going to realize what everyone else already knows—the past doesn’t dictate the future. I do." Smythe adjusts the championship, his expression hardening as he takes one last glance at the camera. DARON: "This isn’t your story anymore. This isn’t your kingdom. This is my era. And when the dust settles, when the bell rings and you find yourself on the wrong side of history, you’ll understand exactly why." Smythe reaches for the light switch, pausing for just a moment before flipping it, plunging the room into darkness as the scene fades to black.
  2. The scene opens inside a high-rise apartment in Wheeling, West Virginia. The gold glow of sunrise filters through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting shadows over an open suitcase resting on a sleek, modern bed. Daron Smythe, dressed in a black track jacket with gold accents and an "IWE Elite Champion" patch, zips up his luggage and exhales sharply. His championship belt is slung over his shoulder as he leans against a dresser, looking into the mirror. A flight itinerary sits on the nightstand—PIT → LAX, departure 9:10 AM. The grind never stops. Daron adjusts his watch, takes a deep breath, and turns to face the camera. DARON: "There comes a point in life where you stop running from challenges... and start running toward them. That’s what separates the ones who chase greatness from the ones who achieve it. Right now, my schedule is insane. ECWF's WarTime Rumble this Sunday. The PMLL Heavyweight Title finals. The Pinnacle Rumble in MAINSTREAM Wrestling. UWL’s Eruption. IWE’s Monday Night Ward. One after another. City to city. Flight after flight. It’s chaos… but I wouldn’t have it any other way." He chuckles to himself, picking up his MAINSTREAM Wrestling World Television Championship from a side table and placing it next to his IWE Elite Championship in the suitcase. DARON: "Some people crumble under the pressure. Me? I thrive in it. This is the life I wanted. The schedule I created. I didn’t just fall into these opportunities—I made them. When I joined the Asylum Wrestling Society, I didn’t come in just to exist. I came in to dominate. I took on every match they threw at me, I faced the best they had—Summer Rayne, Ace Sky, Drake Nygma, Vin Halsted—and I walked out the Internet Champion. Then the Asylum Heavyweight Champion. Then I unified both world titles and created the IWE Elite Championship. And now? I’m the most wanted man in this industry." He slings his duffel bag over his shoulder and starts pacing slightly. DARON: "Everywhere I go, I see the same thing—hungry wrestlers, desperate to make a name off of me. They want to test themselves against the guy who’s been running through every promotion, the workhorse of the modern era. And I welcome it. Because I’m not just some paper champion, I’m the measuring stick. You want to see where you stand in this business? Stand across from me and find out." He smirks, looking into the camera with confidence. DARON: "Which brings me to Eric Herrera. Sunday night. IWE. A man I know nothing about. That’s rare for me, Eric. I’ve been in this game long enough to know the ins and outs of almost every competitor, but you? You’re an enigma. That makes you dangerous… but it also makes you predictable. You’ll come at me with everything you have, swinging for the fences, trying to make an impression. And that’s fine. That’s what everyone tries to do when they stand across from me. But Eric, understand this…" Daron takes off his sunglasses and leans in. DARON: "I’ve built a career on teaching lessons to guys like you. Because when the bell rings, it’s not about mystery, it’s about mastery. And right now, in this business? Nobody has mastered the game better than me. You’re stepping into the ring with the #1 man in professional wrestling. You’re stepping into the ring with a man who has nothing left to prove, but everything left to take. So Eric, if you want to make a name, you better bring your A-game—because anything less than your absolute best? Gets left in the dust." He grabs his suitcase and heads for the door. Before stepping out, he looks back over his shoulder with a knowing smirk. DARON: Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a plane to catch… and another milestone to check off. He exits the apartment, rolling his suitcase behind him as the door shuts. The camera lingers for a moment on the two championship belts resting inside the open bag before fading to black.
  3. We see a black screen as a narration begins… DARON (voiceover): This Monday Night - AWS presents Monday Night Ward and here I am, once again throw into the fire against former Heavyweight Champion, Vin Halsted. It’s a microcosm for my life. My pro wrestling career as a whole has been a rollercoaster. To those wrestlers who compete in the UWL they are familiar with a lot of my story. I’m not sure if I’ve ever told the full story of why I walked away from wrestling in 2012 but let’s start with the night I quit - a night that haunted me for nearly ten years. I worked through the trauma of that entire experience and finally decided to come back to professional wrestling in 2022. But before I get into any of that, let me take you back to a cold January night in 2012… The Sportatorium, a crumbling warehouse barely holding itself together, buzzes with the excited murmur of 150 die-hard fans, jam-packed into folding chairs around the ring. The air smells of stale popcorn, hot dogs, and the faint metallic tang of old steel beams. The building’s dim lights flicker occasionally, adding to its gritty charm—a place where dreams are made or broken, but always on a tight budget. The PA system crackles to life, playing a generic rock anthem. Two wide-eyed trainees, barely out of wrestling school, make their way down the aisle. The fans give them polite applause, though it’s clear they’re waiting for the real action to begin. Inside the ring, ring announcer Joey Dallas holds the microphone and is about to introduce the opening contest when— “DING DING DING!” The music cuts off abruptly, replaced by the growling, distorted chords of Daron Smythe’s entrance theme. The crowd erupts into boos and murmurs of confusion as Daron Smythe, the reigning Pro Wrestling eXpress Heavyweight Champion, storms through the curtain. His hair is disheveled, his usual cocky smirk replaced with a look of pure fury. Dressed in street clothes—a leather jacket over a faded band t-shirt and jeans—he marches straight to the ring, the PWX Heavyweight Championship slung over his shoulder like it’s nothing more than a gym bag. FAN: “Hey, Daron! Why don’t you defend that belt tonight, huh?” Smythe ignores the hecklers, climbs into the ring, and snatches the microphone from Joey Dallas, shoving the announcer out of his way. DARON: “Cut the damn music!” The crowd quiets down, sensing something big is about to happen. In the back, promoter Jim Miller steps out from behind the curtain, his arms crossed and his face a mix of confusion and irritation. Smythe’s glare locks onto Miller like a missile. DARON: “You think this is a joke, Miller? You think I’m gonna keep carrying this company—” he waves the PWX Heavyweight Title in the air before throwing it to the mat with a loud THUD—“on my back after all you’ve done to me?” The crowd gasps, some fans shouting “Whoa!” Others start a faint “You sold out!” chant, unsure of what’s happening. DARON: “I gave you everything, Miller. I bled in this ring, I broke bones, I put this dump on the map! And for what? For you to lie your ass off when the big leagues came calling to sign me? And even worse, to have your precious little daughter lie to me and everyone and claim she is pregnant with my child? Why? To keep me from leaving?!” Miller steps closer to the ring, yelling, “Calm down, Daron! Let’s talk about this!” DARON (pointing directly at Miller): “Don’t you dare tell me to calm down! I’m done. I’m done busting my ass for your little bingo hall operation. You wanna crown another paper champion? Fine! Go ahead! But you’re not doing it at my expense.” Smythe picks up the microphone and the PWX Heavyweight Championship, holding them both aloft for the crowd to see one last time. DARON: “You can take your title, your matches, your pathetic little company—and you can shove it. FUCK YOU, I QUIT!” He spikes the microphone in the center of the ring, the feedback screeching through the sound system. The PWX Heavyweight Championship belt lies discarded beside it, a symbol of everything he’s just left behind. The crowd explodes into a cacophony of boos, gasps, and chants of “Holy shit! Holy shit!” Smythe steps over the ropes and storms up the aisle, brushing past stunned fans and trainees as he exits the Sportatorium. Outside, he gets into his beat-up Chevy Camaro, fires up the engine, and peels out of the parking lot without looking back. The camera pans to the ring, where Jim Miller stands on the apron, staring at the discarded championship in disbelief. FAN (yelling): “Guess we’re getting a new champ tonight!” The Sportatorium falls into a stunned silence, broken only by the nervous chatter of fans trying to process what they just witnessed. And just like that, Daron Smythe disappeared from professional wrestling for a decade. …scene fades back in as Daron Smythe sits alone in a dark room, staring at the projection of that night’s event, it had become something of an urban legend on the internet. But Daron still has a DVD copy and he will watch it from time to time. The local wrestling fans thought it was some clever “shoot” storyline, but Daron would completely disappear from professional wrestling, only returning to the UWL some ten years later. Daron turns the video off and looks directly at the camera. DARON: Some people may think it shows “weakness” for me to share my experiences and my trauma with the world, but I’ve been trying to figure it and myself out for almost 42 years now. I can say with certainty that sharing my story has made me feel better - it’s brought a bit of closure to the events that happened in the past and helped me forge on into the future. But isn’t that trauma response a huge part of what we are doing? You look at a guy like Vin Halsted and I feel for the guy…I empathize with him. It’s interesting - he saw his father shot in cold blood as a youth. I can’t imagine what that must have felt like. On the other hand, there were times I wished that upon my own father for the things he did to my mother…the things he did to me. The way I’ve dealt with my trauma? I’ve thrown myself back into wrestling. I made the mistake of running away from it almost thirteen years ago, blaming it for the pain I felt. After keeping my guard up for so long both personally and professionally, I finally opened up the gates. My reward? A crippling blow to both my wrestling career and potential family life. As I grow older I realize that you can have things like that happen no matter what you are doing, no matter the profession. I have grown to embrace the challenge the AWS office continues to throw my way. Week after week, show after show. People like Ace Sky, Summer Rayne, Drake Nygma, Ethan Murphy, Vin Halsted. I can’t rest for a moment here. It’s equal parts scary and thrilling. Just like everything else, I’ll throw myself head first into this challenge. I’ll carry this AWS Elite Championship until I can’t anymore. I will keep sharpening my skills week after week, show after show, against the absolute best this company has to offer. Why? Because my trauma response includes a unique defensive mechanism - an uncanny belief in myself that I am the number one many in all of professional wrestling. I can’t function any other way. I’ll see you on Monday, Vin. Daron snaps his fingers at the camera as the scene quickly cuts to black.
  4. Scene fades into the AWS interview set featuring the AWS logo prominently on the backdrop. Laura Andersen stands poised with a microphone in hand, her professional demeanor on full display. The crowd’s buzz can be faintly heard through the walls, setting the tone for the high-stakes night. The Asylum Heavyweight Champion, #1 Daron Smythe, steps into the frame, his championship belt gleaming over his shoulder. He’s dressed in a sharp black leather jacket over his #1 t-shirt, exuding confidence. LAURA: Ladies and gentlemen, we’re live backstage at the T-Mobile Arena in Las Vegas, Nevada, where history will be made tonight at AWS Day Zero. Please welcome my guest at this time, the Asylum Heavyweight Champion, #1 Daron Smythe. Smythe adjusts the title on his shoulder, flashing his signature smirk as he nods at Laura before turning his piercing gaze to the camera. DARON: Laura, tonight is the night. Day Zero—the night AWS hits the reset button, and out of the chaos, a new champion emerges. The Elite Champion. And who better to carry that torch than the man standing before you? The #1 man in this company, the Asylum Heavyweight Champion, Daron Smythe. Smythe shifts his stance, looking at his title briefly before locking eyes with Laura. DARON: Let’s talk about this unification match for a second. Vin Halsted. A legend in this company. A multiple-time title holder. The current Global Champion. Beat one of the hottest wrestlers in all of wrestling right now in TJ Alexander. Notice a key phrase in that last sentence — “one of the” — right now, I am on the run of my life and I don’t plan on slowing down anytime soon. It’s nothing personal, Vin, it’s just about proving that I am exactly what I say I am — and that’s the #1 man in all of professional wrestling. Smythe steps closer to the camera, his voice dropping into an intense tone. DARON: Vin, tonight’s not about you anymore. It’s not about your ego or your entourage or whatever spin you’re trying to sell. Tonight’s about the AWS Elite Championship. One belt, one champion, one legacy. And while you’re busy trying to outshine me, I’ll be busy doing what I always do—outworking, outlasting, and outclassing. LAURA: Daron, this match is being billed as one of the biggest in AWS history. With both titles on the line and the chance to be crowned the first-ever AWS Elite Champion, how are you handling the pressure? Smythe chuckles, tapping the belt on his shoulder for emphasis. DARON: Pressure, Laura? This isn’t pressure—this is destiny. You see, I didn’t come to AWS to blend in; I came to stand out. I didn’t come here to be just another champion; I came here to be the champion. Tonight isn’t pressure—it’s an opportunity. An opportunity to cement my name in the history books as the man who carried AWS into its next era. Smythe leans slightly closer to Laura, the intensity in his eyes unmistakable. DARON: Vin Halsted better bring his A-game, because I’m not walking out of Las Vegas empty-handed. When that bell rings, the Asylum Heavyweight Championship becomes the foundation of the Elite Championship. My championship. My legacy. Vin, you’re not just facing a man tonight—you’re facing the future of AWS. And the future is #1. Smythe straightens up, adjusting the belt on his shoulder one last time before looking directly into the camera with a smirk. DARON: I always say it’s my destiny to be the “world’s champion” but as it stands, I’ve been there, and done that here — now it’s time to unify these belts and signify a new era in AWS. He steps out of the frame, leaving Laura Andersen composed yet visibly impressed as the camera zooms in on the AWS logo to close the segment. LAURA: Strong words from the Asylum Heavyweight Champion, Daron Smythe. Will he leave as the first-ever AWS Elite Champion? We’ll find out tonight at Day Zero. The screen fades to black as the crowd’s noise swells in anticipation.
  5. The lights of the Hammerstein Ballroom still glowed behind him as Daron Smythe made his way up the entrance ramp, the newly won AWS Asylum Heavyweight Championship gleaming under the overhead spotlights. Moments ago, the legendary New York City crowd roared in approval (and perhaps a little shock) as he pinned “The Sphinx” Drake Nygma to seal his fate—and the gold—in a triple threat that also included Ethan Murphy. Every ounce of adrenaline still coursed through his veins, each frantic heartbeat a reminder of the high-stakes battle he’d just survived. Applause and catcalls echoed from the raucous fans still filing out of their seats, craning their necks to catch a final glimpse of the new champion. The wide grin on Daron’s face was as bright as the shining plating of the title belt he now clutched tight against his chest. The belt felt heavier than he expected—as though every challenge and every sacrifice leading up to this moment now weighed upon him in solid form. Stepping through the black curtain, he left behind the roar of the crowd for the tight, twisting corridors of the backstage area. A wave of production staff, stagehands, and wrestlers greeted him with congratulatory nods, handshakes, even a few pats on the back—though some wore the neutral expressions of polite courtesy rather than genuine warmth. Championship victories often stir up equal parts respect and envy in the locker room. Daron acknowledged them all with a gracious smile. Music still thumped beyond the curtain, rattling the old bones of the Hammerstein Ballroom. He caught a glimpse of the ring crew beginning to disassemble parts of the stage, loading cables and dismantling lighting rigs. The backstage of a wrestling show never truly slept, and that comforting sense of constant motion reminded Daron he was exactly where he wanted to be—on top of the mountain, for the moment. But he needed a moment to collect himself. The pulsating energy from the ring area could be overwhelming, especially having just stepped off the biggest victory of his AWS career. His heart hammered in his chest like a drum. Clutching the Asylum Heavyweight Championship a little tighter, he slipped down a side hallway toward a quieter spot. He found an unoccupied corner near a stack of folded chairs and crates, a place bathed in the soft glow of a single overhead lamp. The faint hum of the building’s ancient heating system provided a subtle background noise, a lullaby compared to the roaring arena. Slowly, Daron lowered himself onto a sturdy equipment trunk. His ring gear was still damp with sweat, and his breathing finally began to slow. For the first time, he allowed himself to truly stare at the belt now resting across his lap. Every etched detail of the faceplate, the stylized letters reading “Asylum Heavyweight Champion,” felt surreal beneath his fingertips. He could hardly believe that this moment—once a daydream—was now his reality. The swirl of emotions inside him was almost too much to contain, so he simply inhaled, exhaled, and let the gravity of the occasion sink in. He shut his eyes briefly, letting the memory of the final bell ring in his mind, hearing the crowd’s erupting cheers, seeing the referee raise his hand in victory. He pictured Drake Nygma on the mat, Ethan Murphy slumped in the corner, and the shock in their eyes as the realization sank in that Daron Smythe had pulled off the upset. A small laugh escaped him, half of disbelief, half of pride. The sound of hushed footsteps on concrete made him open his eyes. Standing a few feet away was Laura Andersen, the AWS Backstage Interviewer. Her smile was kind but edged with excitement, and the microphone she held bore the distinctive AWS logo. LAURA: Daron! she greeted, stepping forward with a reserved enthusiasm Do you mind if I ask you a few questions? He gave a slight nod, still catching his breath. DARON: Sure, Laura, he replied, voice thick with fatigue but also buoyed by adrenaline Fire away. Laura eased closer, mindful of the belt resting across his lap, its reflective surface catching the overhead light. LAURA: First of all, congratulations on becoming the new AWS Asylum Heavyweight Champion! her voice carried a genuine delight You went through a war out there tonight, overcoming not just one but two top contenders in Drake Nygma and Ethan Murphy. Tell me… how are you feeling in this moment, now that the dust has settled? Daron let out another long breath, running a hand through his damp hair. DARON: I’ll be honest, I’m just… on top of the world. he admitted, eyes still flicking back to the belt I’ve put so much into this—sacrificing time, enduring injuries, pushing through doubt. To have my hand raised in the middle of the Hammerstein Ballroom, a place with so much wrestling history… it’s incredible. It’s one of the biggest moments of my career, bar none. Laura nodded, clearly appreciative of the sincerity in his voice. LAURA: It was certainly an unforgettable match, and the fans here ate it up. But I hate to pull you from this celebration so quickly—there’s already a big announcement swirling around about your immediate future. I’m sure you’ve heard rumors, but let me make it official. She glanced down at her notes, then locked eyes with the new champion On January 1st, at Day Zero 2025, you’re scheduled to face the AWS Global Champion, Vin Halsted, at The Crow’s Nest in Las Vegas. The two of you will unify your championships into the brand new AWS Elite Championship. This means that in just a few weeks, you’ll be putting the Asylum Heavyweight Championship on the line in quite possibly the biggest match of your entire career. Any thoughts on this momentous challenge? At that, Daron’s smile faded slightly as he absorbed the enormity of what she’d said. He’d known rumblings of the unification match existed—whispers in the halls, subtle online posts, maybe even some insider remarks from management. But hearing it confirmed out loud was something else entirely. DARON: That’s… huge after taking a moment to reflect, he finally answered, eyes flicking from Laura to the belt Vin Halsted is… well, he’s a living legend in AWS. The man’s got an aura about him, a legacy that spans countless battles. To unify these titles means we’re stepping into a new era of AWS. And for me to be a part of that—fresh off winning this championship—it’s both thrilling and daunting. But look, I didn’t become the Asylum Heavyweight Champion by hiding from challenges. I know exactly what kind of fight Halsted will bring to the table, and I’m preparing myself for a war. Vin just stopped the hottest wrestler in the game in TJ Alexander right in his tracks to win that Global Championship. If I have to step up to unify these belts, I’ll bring everything I’ve got. Laura leaned in closer, intrigued by the earnest confidence in Daron’s tone. LAURA: You might not have a lot of time to recuperate or celebrate. After Day Zero, in Las Vegas, you’ll have just a few days before you’re booked to appear on the very first Monday Night Ward of the new year—January 6th—where you’ll be defending or competing again, this time against TJ Alexander. That’s basically five days between matches, and you’ll be heading into battle again, presumably as a champion of some sort. How do you plan to deal with that quick turnaround? He exhaled slowly, pressing his lips together as he contemplated. DARON: It’s a gauntlet, that’s for sure, he said, letting out a slight chuckle Most wrestlers get the chance to exhale after a momentous match. But if I unify the titles at Day Zero—if I become the first-ever AWS Elite Champion—that puts a massive target on my back. And TJ Alexander, well, he’s no slouch in that ring. I’m not looking past him one bit. Holding the belt a little tighter, he continued… I’ll say this: My body’s going to be beaten up, my mind’s going to be spinning, but opportunities like these don’t come every day. This is what I fought for when I first laced up my boots—to have people talk about my matches, my championships, my legacy. So I’ll handle it the way I always have: keep my head down, train harder than everyone else, and do everything I can to prove I’m worthy of this gold—and the next gold. Being a champion in AWS isn’t about coasting. It’s about forging ahead, even when you’re exhausted, even when the odds are stacked. That’s the champion I intend to be. Laura regarded him with genuine admiration, her brow arching in approval. LAURA: Well said. This is without question a pivotal moment in your career. Do you have any closing thoughts for the AWS universe watching at home, or for Vin Halsted and TJ Alexander, who I’m sure will be reviewing your performance tonight? Daron thought on it for a moment, letting the hush of the backstage area settle around them. DARON: Vin, if you’re watching, I respect everything you’ve accomplished. But as of tonight, I’m on your radar—I’m not just some new kid you can dismiss. Come January 1st, I plan on unifying these titles and holding that brand-new AWS Elite Championship high. So I hope you’re training. I hope you’re ready. Because this belt right here”—he patted the faceplate—“didn’t fall into my lap. I earned it. And at Day Zero, I’m ready to earn my place in history yet again.” He turned his focus to the camera… And TJ, you’re one hell of a competitor. I know you’re itching for a shot at gold, and you might just be walking into Monday Night Ward to challenge the brand-new Elite Champion. Win or lose, I won’t duck you. I’ll bring the fight to you like I always do. So get ready, because I’m not slowing down for anybody. Laura smiled, lowering her microphone, clearly moved by his passionate declaration. LAURA: Thank you, Daron, and congratulations once again on your victory tonight. I’m sure the AWS fans can’t wait to see how these next few weeks unfold. She offered him a respectful nod, then quietly made her exit, leaving Daron alone once again in the dim backstage corridor. For a moment, he simply listened to the faint rumblings of the ongoing cleanup in the arena. Still feeling the adrenaline pumping in his veins, he ran a finger along the raised lettering of the belt, thinking of what lay ahead: the unification match in Las Vegas on New Year’s Day, the looming challenge of TJ Alexander only days later. His body ached, and the exhaustion from the triple threat match was settling in, but a current of excitement ran beneath it all. He’d finally reached the summit of one mountain, only to find another, taller peak in the distance. That was the nature of wrestling, and he relished it. Taking one more look at the Asylum Heavyweight Championship—his championship—he summoned a quiet, determined smile. DARON: Alright, he murmured under his breath, standing up from the equipment trunk All that talk about destiny…the time for talk is over. The time for action is now… With that, he pulled the belt onto his shoulder and walked down the hall, the faint cheers from the Hammerstein Ballroom crowd still echoing in his ears. On the horizon loomed Las Vegas, Day Zero, a shot at unifying the gold into a single, shining prize… and then five days after, another battle, another test. The AWS universe was about to see if Daron Smythe could stand the heat in the spotlight he had worked so hard to claim—and he wouldn’t have it any other way.
  6. The scene begins in near-total darkness. A faint, rhythmic dripping sound is heard in the background. The camera fades in to reveal an old, abandoned clock factory. Dust particles float through beams of pale moonlight filtering through broken windows. Massive gears and shattered clock faces lie strewn across the floor. The air is thick with the scent of rust and decay. From the shadows, Daron Smythe emerges, his presence both commanding and deliberate. The familiar smirk plays across his lips, but there’s a cold steel in his eyes — a determination forged in the fires of ambition. DARON: “Drip. Drip. Drip. The sound of inevitability. The sound of time passing, of seconds bleeding into minutes, minutes dissolving into hours. For most people, it’s background noise. But for men like me — men who understand what it means to seize every fleeting moment — it’s a reminder. A reminder that time waits for no one.” “That's why, when I returned to professional wrestling about two and a half years ago, I hit the ground running. I had been away from our great sport for nearly a decade for a multitude of reasons. I had been hurt - hurt by a woman I loved and had put all my hope and trust in. When that trust was broken? I had to disassociate with everything that could hurt me. When I realized it wasn’t professional wrestling’s fault, that professional wrestling was the one thing that truly motivated me. Professional wrestling is the thing that motivated me from an early age and when it was gone, I felt a true emptiness inside of me. I knew I had let a lot of time slip through my fingertips. I had to make up for lost time…” Smythe walks through the debris of the clock factory, his footsteps echoing ominously. DARON: “Drake Nygma, you want to turn AWS into a labyrinth, a cage of your own making. You want to play the puppet master, pulling strings from the shadows, thinking you’re always one step ahead. But here’s the thing about labyrinths, Sphinx — they’re designed to trap the weak, the lost, the clueless. I’m none of those things.” “I think, deep down, you know exactly that I am none of those things. I’ve watched from afar as you steamroll people. Your physical prowess and mental capabilities are a sight to behold. And yet, despite all of your success and your abilities - you still feel the need, the desire, the absolute necessity - to change. I think you felt that when we were in the ring - that you had finally stepped in the ring with someone who could match and possibly overtake you. Based upon the way you’ve reacted to this revelation, I’m not sure if you hate or embrace this challenge. As exhausting as you have been to match up with, I’ve grown to embrace this challenge. I said before, Cory Chevelle is the most physical man I’ve ever been in the ring with. Cyrus Rinaldi may be the most intelligent, cunning wrestler I’ve stood across the ring from. Drake, you may be the perfect combination of these qualities. Make no mistake about it, I’m happy to have the chance to face this challenge. I know, win, lose or draw, I’ll come out on the other side of this better for it. He stops in front of a rusted grandfather clock. The pendulum swings listlessly, creaking with each pass. DARON: “You call yourself the riddle no one can solve. But riddles, Drake, are just puzzles with answers waiting to be found. You’ve spent years — centuries, if your delusions are to be believed — locked in cages of your own making. Scribbling riddles on the walls, whispering to rats, convincing yourself that chaos is freedom. But all you’ve really done is chain yourself to madness.” “That madness seems to engulf you. Your psyche is a swirl of different personas. As much as you talk as though you are on some otherworldly plane, some immortal being, you bleed blood, just like I do. You may consider yourself tethered to a mortal vessel, but that mortal vessel has limitations just like me. Smythe’s fingers trace the cracked glass of the clock face. DARON: “You say freedom is a lie. That we’re all prisoners of one kind or another. Maybe you’re right. Maybe we are trapped. Trapped by expectations, by fate, by our own damn fears. But unlike you, I don’t embrace the cage. I break out of it. I don’t scratch riddles into the walls and call it a masterpiece. I tear those walls down.” "Drake, the difference between us isn’t just how we see the cage — it’s what we do with it. You dress your confinement up with riddles and symbolism, painting yourself as some grand architect of chaos, a tortured soul who found comfort in the confines of madness. But me? I see the cage for what it is: an obstacle, a challenge, something meant to be obliterated. While you lose yourself in the maze, convinced that its walls give you purpose, I’m sharpening my mind, my fists, and my willpower to bust through. Your walls aren’t protection, they’re a prison. They’re limits. And I refuse to be limited by anything — not by fear, not by fate, and sure as hell not by the twisted constructs of a man who’s forgotten what the outside world even looks like. Freedom might be an illusion for you, but for me, it’s the only reality worth fighting for." He turns to face the camera, the intensity in his eyes cutting through the gloom. DARON: “Drake, you’ve convinced yourself that AWS is your playground. That we’re all just pieces on your twisted chessboard. You talk about Reindeer Games being the start of your endgame, the beginning of some grand, chaotic spectacle. But let me remind you of something: This isn’t your show. This isn’t your story. This is my time.” "That’s where your delusion gets the better of you. You believe that you’re the puppet master pulling strings, that the rest of us are just mindless pawns caught in your elaborate game. But puppets don’t have a heartbeat, and pawns don’t fight back. I’m not a piece on your chessboard — I’m the damn wrecking ball coming to tear it apart. Reindeer Games isn’t your curtain call; it’s the night your illusion shatters. You’ve spent so long building this fantasy world where you control the chaos, but I’m here to remind you that chaos doesn’t discriminate. It doesn’t favor the one who thinks he controls it. And when the bell rings, all your riddles, all your schemes, and all your grand designs will crumble under the weight of reality. This isn’t a spectacle for you to direct. This is a battleground where only the strongest, the smartest, and the most relentless survive — and that’s me. This is my moment, my legacy, and my championship to claim." Smythe starts walking again, his pace measured, deliberate. The dust swirls around him as if the factory itself holds its breath. DARON: “You see, Drake, time is a funny thing. It doesn’t care about your riddles or your chaos. It doesn’t care how long you’ve been trapped in your own mind. Time just keeps moving forward. And right now, it’s counting down to the moment I kick your teeth in and take that Asylum Heavyweight Championship off your cold, painted shoulders.” He pauses, chuckling to himself. DARON: “And then there’s you, Ethan Murphy. The former champion. The man who can’t stop clinging to what was, who can’t let go of the glory days. I get it, Ethan. You were on top once. You held the gold. You felt that rush, that validation. But let me tell you something about time — it doesn’t care about your past. The clock doesn’t turn backward. It only ticks forward.” Smythe’s smirk fades into a look of genuine disdain. DARON: “You’re like an old record stuck on repeat. You think because you held that title once, you’re owed a second chance. But the world doesn’t owe you a damn thing. You have to take it. And the sad truth, Ethan, is that you’re just not hungry enough. You’re chasing ghosts, while I’m out here creating a legacy.” DARON: "Ethan, you’re like a ghost haunting your own past, desperate to relive the moments when you were the man everyone cheered for, the man who carried that gold and thought he was untouchable. But here’s the cold, hard truth — the past is dead, and you can’t resurrect it. Time is merciless. It doesn’t rewind for sentiment, for nostalgia, or for faded glory. While you’re busy looking back, clinging to memories of what you once were, I’m charging forward, carving out a future that belongs to me. I’m not here to relive old chapters or reclaim old glories; I’m here to write a new story, one where I’m the champion, I’m the standard, and I’m the man everyone talks about. You think your experience gives you an edge? Nah, it just makes you complacent. And in this game, complacency gets you left behind. When the bell rings at Reindeer Games, you won’t be the man reclaiming his title — you’ll be the man who realizes too late that the future passed him by. Tick-tock, Ethan. Your glory days are over, and the future is mine." Smythe steps over a pile of shattered gears, the crunch of metal echoing beneath his boots. DARON: “At Reindeer Games, it’s not about the past. It’s not about chaos or labyrinths or riddles. It’s about who wants it more. Who’s willing to bleed, to suffer, to push past their limits and come out the other side holding that championship high.” He stops in front of a massive clock face lying cracked and broken on the ground. The hands are frozen at 11:59. DARON: “You see this? One minute to midnight. That’s where we are, Drake. That’s where we are, Ethan. The final minute before everything changes. Before the bell rings and the world sees who really deserves to call themselves the Asylum Heavyweight Champion.” Smythe crouches down, his eyes fixed on the broken clock. DARON: “Drake, you said we might be destined to do this forever. That you represent chaos and I’m your foil, carving out my own legacy. Maybe you’re right. Maybe we are locked in some eternal struggle, two forces destined to clash over and over again.” He stands up slowly, his eyes burning with resolve. DARON: “But here’s the thing about destiny — it doesn’t mean a damn thing if you don’t have the guts to fight for it. And I’m ready to fight. I’m ready to do whatever it takes to make sure that when the dust settles, it’s my hand raised, my name in the history books, and that championship belt around my waist.” DARON: “I’m sure it sounds like a broken record to everyone because I repeat it so often but it is my destiny to be World Champion. People get sick of hearing it, but look at what has happened? Two-time and current UWL World Champion, HRW World Champion, ECWF Triple Crown Winner, future MAINSTREAM Wrestling Television Champion, and now? A shot at the Asylum Heavyweight Champion. Destiny seems so cliche but if it isn’t destiny, what keeps putting me here? I learned a long time ago that when opportunity calls, you listen. Smythe takes a deep breath, his chest rising and falling with controlled intensity. DARON: “At Reindeer Games, the clock strikes midnight. The chaos ends. The past fades. And the future — my future — begins.” He points to the broken clock face, the hands still frozen at 11:59. DARON: “This is where I typically say my destiny is to be world champion and the only variable is time, but… “Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Time’s up.” He turns and walks away, disappearing into the shadows. The camera lingers on the broken clock, the hands still refusing to move. The screen fades to black, and the sound of a ticking clock echoes into silence.
  7. The camera fades in on a festive backstage area decked out for AWS’s Reindeer Games. Twinkling Christmas lights and a decorated tree sit in the background, but the atmosphere is anything but cheerful. The air crackles with tension as AWS interviewer Laura Andersen stands in the center, microphone in hand. She wears a red blazer, the serious look on her face cutting through the holiday decor. LAURA: “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m standing by with one of the most dominant forces in AWS today. Tonight, in a Three Way Dance for the Asylum Heavyweight Championship, we’ll see the reigning champion, ‘The Sphinx’ Drake Nygma, defend his title against former champion Ethan Murphy and the man who calls himself ‘#1’, Daron Smythe.” The camera pulls back to reveal Daron Smythe standing just to Laura’s left, just off screen of the initial shot. Daron Smythe stands confidently on the left, wearing his signature smirk, his eyes filled with ambition. The self-proclaimed “#1” adjusts the tape on his wrists, the glint of the Internet Championship over his shoulder serving as a reminder of his recent success. LAURA: “Daron, tonight, you face two of the best champions the Asylum Wrestling Society has to offer. Ethan Murphy, former holder of the title, looking to get a title back he held for 177 days and “The Sphinx” Drake Nygma, the current reigning and defending champion. First, I want to ask about Ethan Murphy. Some people have commented that Murphy seems like an afterthought in this match. What do you say to those people? DARON: “Laura, I had this very same thought the other day - am I focusing too much on Drake Nygma? Does that leave me vunerable to Ethan Murphy? I’ve spent the last several days studying tape on Ethan Murphy. He’s very, very good. But, do I see the same things in him as I do Drake Nygma? I hate to say it, but I don’t. And that’s not meant to be offensive to Ethan Murphy. I realize that I am still relatively new in AWS, but I have been all over the world in the past two and a half years since I returned to this business. I’ve been in the fight of my life, both physically and mentally, against people like Cory Chevelle, Billy Danielson, Victor Kall, Caine Marik, Cyrus Rinaldi, and many, many others. Drake Nygma presents my most unique challenge yet. When you strip away the superficial, I think Drake and I are very much alike. I think I read one journalist say we are like the Batman and Joker of AWS. Laura nods as she listens to Daron’s answer and readies her next question… LAURA: Speaking of Drake Nygma, it seems like he is ever changing and evolving - I’ve seen mention of him shedding all of his human qualities and reverting completely to being The Sphinx. What do you make of this development? DARON: It’s interesting and I’ve said it before, but Drake’s is both mentally brilliant and mentally ill. I can see it plain as day, it’s a trauma response. Does he scare me? Absolutely not. There’s something that gets my blood rushing to face a challenge like this. Our draw made me thirsty for more. On one hand, I have to buckle up because it’s a helluva challenge. On the other hand, I embrace these challenges because they make me better. I’m not afraid of taking a punch to give one. Tonight, I’ll take whatever is necessary in order to walk out of this building as the AWS Asylum Heavyweight Champion… LAURA: Thank you for your time, Daron. DARON: I don’t need luck, Laura. It is my destiny to be the Asylum Heavyweight Champion. The only variable is time and the time… is now. Daron looks right at the camera, snaps his fingers, and the scene quickly cuts to black…
  8. Daron’s voice narrates a pitch black screen… DARON: I feel like you and I are destined to do this forever, Drake. Two sides of the same coin and two magnets - opposite, yet the same. We both have dealt with extreme trauma in our lives and how we choose to deal with them is completely different. You have chosen to disassociate with reality and in many ways, I respect and even understand it. There are times I have disassociated in order to survive. In fact, many times things have happened to me that in the moment felt like distant memories. Had I not learned how to break away from those things, I might have destroyed myself a long, long time ago. You are completely right - the darkness can be all consuming. However, my mere existence today shows that no matter how dark the situation may be, everything ends. There is daylight even after the darkest, longest, coldest nights. People grow weary of me talking about my destiny, but how in the hell else do you explain it? How a kid like me, born inheriting nothing of worldly value would be here, right now, standing at the precipice of destiny. The darkness has tried to come for me several times - in fact, it’s my first memory: The events are burned into my brain, a short, yet intense interaction creating a core memory which has shaped my path in so many ways. I'm barely two years old, it's late. Sitting in the middle of the floor - surrounded by a scattering of colorful toys—a small plush animal here, a block tower precariously standing there, happily playing while my mother sits close by, nervously tapping her toes while taking a drag from a cigarette. My father stumbles through the door, to my mom's recollection over four hours after the end of his shift, a line cook in the cafeteria at the local state college. My mother angrily awaited for his return and had she not found a pair of strange underwear in the backseat of the family car this morning, she might have let this one go. An argument ensues. My mother, typically passive, especially in her exhaustive state of taking care of an especially rambunctious two year old, is fighting back - a prisoner in her own home while her husband is off, likely gallivanting with co-eds on the college campus bar. She's finally had enough. My father had enough as well, buckling under the pressure of having to work and provide for a while and a two-year old, succumbing to vices that may have been tolerable pre-wife and child, but has damn near pushed his marriage to its breaking point. Suddenly, there’s a sharp, loud movement. A wooden chair, ordinary but solid, arcs through the air. Its legs blur, the polished wood catching glints of light from a nearby window. The chair hurtles toward the pale-painted wall just feet from the toddler’s head. The sound of its impact is jarring—a deafening crack reverberates through the room, followed by the muffled thunk of the chair bouncing off the wall and hitting the floor. Plaster dust drifts down slowly like snowflakes, highlighting the small dent now marring the once-pristine wall. The toddler flinches at the noise, their tiny body tensing for a moment. Their gaze snaps toward the source, confusion and fear clouding their expression. The world around them feels unstable, the security they take for granted suddenly shaken. The toddler’s lip quivers, their big eyes begin to well with tears, and their fragile innocence collides with the harshness of the moment. In a flash, my mother summons all the strength her weary five foot three inch frame had to offer, sprung to her feet - scooped up her crying son in her arms. "GET THE F**K OUT!" she screams with all her might. My father, in a mix of inebriation, fear, and surprise, stumbles back out the door and in the distance Ihear the car's engine fire up and then fade into the distance. She held me and rocked me back and forth, soothing her son in her arms, the events of this day shaping their lives moving forward. The scene once again fades to black and we hear Daron’s voice once more… DARON: That one moment, an Earth-shattering, life defining moment. My first memory - and I don’t share it for sympathy. I share it because it helps me. It’s therapeutic. It helps me remember where I’ve come from and appreciate all the things I h ave now - things that could have been taken away in an instant - in that mind-altering state my father was in. It could have been the end of me. It wasn’t, and that’s something I’ve learned to not take for granted. I know you may look down on me, may think of me as a mortal while you are on the level of some god, but your constant struggle with yourself shows how shackled you are to the same mortal coil, the same limitations, the same fragilities that I face. Your yearning to shed these human qualities is a simple acknowledgment that while you see yourself as a deity, you have the same flaws that I do, and make the same emotional decisions. But whereas you are trying to break away from those human emotions and their effect on our decision making, I embrace those feelings - I lean into it. These things I share with you - these events strengthen me. In fact, years after that first core memory, something major happened again… The clock on the kitchen wall read 11:17 PM. The dim overhead light flickered slightly, casting uneven shadows across the small, outdated kitchen. The walls, once painted a cheerful shade of pale yellow, had faded over the years, much like the memories of better times. Fourteen-year-old Daron Smythe sat at the kitchen table, his elbows resting on the scratched wooden surface, his fingers tracing a groove in the grain. He could hear the distant rumble of a car engine outside, growing louder. His mother, Debbie, stood by the counter, nervously wiping a clean dish with a damp cloth. She glanced toward the front door, eyes filled with a hope that seemed fragile enough to shatter with the slightest misstep. The engine sputtered off, followed by the unmistakable sound of unsteady footsteps crunching on gravel. A wave of dread swept over Daron. His muscles tensed, his mind warring with itself. He wanted to hope for the best—his mom deserved that much—but something felt wrong. The front door creaked open, and his father stumbled in, his broad frame slumping against the doorjamb. The stink of alcohol invaded the room almost immediately. His father’s eyes, bloodshot and unfocused, darted around before landing on Debbie. His lips twisted into a grin that looked more like a grimace. DAN: Debbie he slurred you’re lookin’ good. Debbie forced a smile, her fingers gripping the dish towel so tightly her knuckles turned white. DEBBIE: Hi, Dan she said softly You’re late… DAN: Late? Dan let out a humorless laugh, his head lolling slightly. DAN: Who cares? I’m here, aren’t I? He pushed away from the door and staggered toward the center of the room, the clumsy shuffle of his feet echoing like a warning. DAN: Besides he continued I was busy with... Debbie. Debbie blinked, confusion clouding her face. DEBBIE: What are you talking about? DAN: Another Debbie Dan sneered. A different one. Funnier. Prettier. He leaned against the kitchen counter, his hand knocking a glass to the floor. The crash shattered the fragile silence, shards of glass scattering across the linoleum. DEBBIE: Dan, please she whispered Why are you doing this? DAN: Why? he snapped, his voice a growl Because I can. Because I’m not some pathetic, desperate... woman— DARON: Don’t talk to her like that. Daron interrupted, his voice steady but edged with a raw anger he barely recognized. Dan turned to his son, his eyes narrowing. DAN: Oh, look at you. Big man now, huh? Think you can tell me what to do? He pushed himself off the counter, advancing toward Debbie, his movements erratic, unpredictable. Maybe she needs a reminder of who’s in charge? Debbie took a step back, her voice trembling. DEBBIE: Dan, don’t. But he didn’t listen. His hand shot out, fingers wrapping around her wrist. Her gasp of pain was a dagger to Daron’s heart. Something inside Daron snapped. He surged to his feet, his chair scraping across the floor with a harsh screech. His vision tunneled, all his fear and anger boiling over in a single, instinctive motion. His fist clenched tightly, he stepped forward and swung with all the strength his fourteen-year-old frame could muster. The punch landed squarely on his father’s jaw. The sickening crack reverberated through the room. Dan’s head snapped to the side, and he staggered back, eyes wide with shock. He touched his lip, where a thin trickle of blood ran down to his chin. DAN: You little… Dan began, but his voice faltered. For a moment, the man who loomed so large in Daron’s nightmares looked small, defeated. He shook his head, his gaze avoiding Daron’s. Without another word, he stumbled to the door, yanked it open, and disappeared into the night. The sound of his father’s footsteps faded, leaving an emptiness that felt both terrifying and liberating. Daron’s chest heaved as he stood there, his fist still clenched. His knuckles ached, but he barely noticed. Debbie sank to her knees beside him, her arms wrapping around his waist, her body shaking with silent sobs. DEBBIE: I’m sorry, baby. she whispered. I’m so sorry. Daron swallowed hard, his own tears threatening to break free. He placed a hand on his mother’s head, his fingers threading through her hair. DARON: It’s okay, Mom. he said, his voice barely audible I’ve got you. In that moment, Daron knew something had changed forever. The boy he had been was gone, and in his place stood someone who understood, far too early, what it meant to protect the ones you love—even from their own demons. The scene fades slowly back to the present, where we see a dark room, a single chair in the center with a single bulb overhead. Daron Smythe sits in the chair, slumped over and exhausted from a workout. Daron wipes the sweat from his brow and looks up at the camera… DARON: If you think you can bring a bigger darkness to me than I have already faced, Drake, you are dead wrong. I have looked death and despair in the eyes several times. I have faced my biggest fears from a young age. I have had to grow up and be a man way before I should have been. And you know what? I wouldn’t change a fucking thing. All of those things prepared me for this day. My mother, showing me that example of strength, how to fight back. Do you really think I fear any parts of your being? I’ve stood toe to toe with you in the ring before, and if you think you are going to evolve, to shed your skin like a snake and suddenly be that much better than me, you are dead wrong. This grit, this determination, this will to succeed within me has been burned into my brain, my heart, and my soul since a very young age. Maybe to some people claiming that I am #1 makes me an asshole. But for me? I’ve had to keep telling myself this every single day, to get myself to get up early and workout. To will myself to study tapes and learn from the best professional wrestlers on the planet. I am coming to Reindeer Games to show why I call myself the number one man in all of professional wrestling and at the end of the night, when I strap the belt around my waist, you, in whatever form or name you choose to call yourself will have to acknowledge that I am the AWS Asylum Heavyweight Champion because it is my destiny to be the champion. The only variable… Daron looks right into the camera, burning a hole through the lens with his gaze… Is time. Daron snaps his fingers and the scene quickly cuts to black…
  9. The camera cuts to the backstage interview area where AWS Backstage Interviewer Laura Andersen stands poised with a microphone in hand. Beside her is the ever-charismatic and confident #1 Daron Smythe, dressed in his signature ring gear with the AWS Internet Championship proudly draped over his shoulder. LAURA: Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome my guest at this time, the AWS Internet Champion and the self-proclaimed “#1 man in professional wrestling,” Daron Smythe. Daron, tonight you’re stepping into the ring with former Asylum Heavyweight Champion, Summer Rayne. How are you feeling heading into this matchup? DARON: (grinning, adjusting the Internet Championship on his shoulder) Laura, it’s no surprise to me that once again I find myself up against a main-event-level talent. Summer Rayne has been to the top of the mountain, and tonight, I prove to her—and everyone else—why I’m the guy everyone keeps trying to knock down. I am the #1 man in professional wrestling, and every time I step in that ring, I make sure the world remembers it. LAURA: Speaking of making statements, you’ve been holding the AWS Internet Championship for some time now. Fans are wondering—when will we see you defend that title? DARON: (smirking) That’s the thing about me, Laura—I’m not hard to find. This championship? It’s not just a prop, it’s a statement. I’ll defend it anywhere, on any show, at any time. I don’t run from challenges, I embrace them. You’ve got a dream of facing #1 Daron Smythe for this Internet Championship? Step up, because I’m always ready. LAURA: You’re certainly not short on confidence, Daron, and you’ll need every bit of it as you look ahead to Reindeer Games, where you’re thrust into the main event for the Asylum Heavyweight Championship. You’ll face both Drake Nygma and Ethan Murphy in what promises to be a chaotic match. What are your thoughts on that showdown? DARON: (his smile fades slightly, his tone becoming more serious) Drake Nygma… Drake might be the biggest challenge I’ve ever faced, not just physically, but psychologically. He’s been through trauma, Laura, just like me. The difference is in how we’ve dealt with it. Drake channels his pain into something dark, something almost otherworldly. In some ways, it’s like looking in a mirror—but the reflection is distorted. And Ethan Murphy? Let’s not forget, the guy is a generational talent and a former champion. When you’ve got three guys of this caliber in one ring, anything can happen. But I’m not looking ahead just yet. LAURA: So, the focus for tonight is— DARON: Summer Rayne. Tonight, the focus is on establishing why I’m #1 in AWS, why I’m the future of this company, and why this Internet Championship stays on my shoulder. Summer’s a big name, but after tonight, she’ll be another stepping stone on my road to greatness. LAURA: Confident as always, Daron. Best of luck tonight against Summer Rayne. DARON: (flashing a confident smile) Luck’s for losers, Laura. I don’t need it. (With that, Daron adjusts the title on his shoulder one more time and walks off screen, leaving LAURA looking impressed yet slightly wary of the man’s self-assured demeanor.) LAURA: Ladies and gentlemen, that was Daron Smythe. Stay tuned, because this is one matchup you won’t want to miss. (The camera fades to black, transitioning to the arena.)
  10. The show opens with a dazzling pyro display as the camera pans over the Thanksgiving-themed stage. The ring is surrounded by tables laden with food—turkeys, mashed potatoes, pies, and more. Mia Russo: “Happy Thanksgiving from AWS! Tonight, it’s the Turkey Bowl, where chaos reigns, and the only thing hotter than the action is the gravy!” Gigdet Stephenson: “Six competitors, one winner, and a whole lot of food about to go flying. I’m not sure if this is wrestling or a feast, Mia!” Song Teng: “Introducing first, from New York City, New York, weighing in at 135 pounds, CARLOTTA PAINE!” Carlotta struts onto the stage as "Let’s Go All The Way" by Insane Clown Posse blasts through the arena. She wears a gothic Thanksgiving outfit and waves a turkey baster mockingly at the crowd before sauntering to the ring. Mia Russo: “Carlotta’s got her game face on—she’s here to stir up trouble!” Song Teng: “Next, from Hunter, New York, weighing in at 110 pounds, ISABELLA WINTERS!” Isabella bounces out to "Be My Lover" by La Bouche, wearing sparkling ring gear. She spins gracefully at the top of the ramp before heading to the ring, waving to fans. Gigdet Stephenson: “Don’t let her charm fool you—Isabella’s all business when that bell rings!” Song Teng: “From Broken Arrow, Oklahoma, weighing in at 125 pounds, CHEROKEE RYDER!” To "Warrior Spirit" by Indigenous, Cherokee storms onto the ramp, her fringed gear flowing. She raises her fist to the crowd, then gestures to the buffet, signaling her readiness. Mia Russo: “Cherokee Ryder has the heart of a fighter, and she’s not afraid to get messy!” Song Teng: “From Transylvania, Romania, weighing in at 225 pounds, BLACKTHORNE!” The lights dim, and "Funeral in Carpathia" by Cradle of Filth plays as Blackthorne emerges cloaked in a dark cape. He walks slowly to the ring, sneering at the buffet as if it’s beneath him. Gigdet Stephenson: “Every Turkey Bowl needs a villain, and Blackthorne’s here to play that role to perfection.” Song Teng: “From Newfoundland, weighing in at 177.5 pounds, DRAKE NYGMA—‘THE SPHINX!’” “The Devil Within” by Digital Daggers plays as Drake slinks onto the stage. He surveys the ring and the buffet with a sinister grin before sliding into the ring. Mia Russo: “Drake Nygma is unpredictable and cunning. He’s got a plan for every situation.” Song Teng: “And finally, from Wheeling, West Virginia, weighing in at 246 pounds, he is ‘#1,’ DARON SMYTHE!” "#1" by Nelly blares as Daron Smythe steps onto the stage, exuding arrogance. He wears a Thanksgiving-themed jersey with "#1 Turkey Tamer" on the back. Smythe jaws with fans on his way to the ring, pausing to inspect the buffet disdainfully. Gigdet Stephenson: “Daron Smythe already looks disgusted by this setup. Guess he’s not a fan of pumpkin pie.” The action begins with everyone brawling at once. Carlotta Paine grabs a cookie tray from the buffet and smashes it over Isabella Winters’ head, sending cookies flying everywhere. Mia Russo: “Carlotta’s baking up some punishment!” Blackthorne, unimpressed by the theatrics, takes a gravy boat and pours it over Daron Smythe’s head, earning laughter from the crowd. Smythe stumbles around, blinded by gravy. Gigdet Stephenson: “Smythe’s going to need a shower after this!” Chaos breaks out as all six competitors start an all-out food fight. Cherokee hurls cranberry sauce at Blackthorne, while Isabella retaliates by launching a pumpkin pie at Carlotta. Drake Nygma slyly ducks out of the fray, watching the chaos unfold with a sinister grin. Smythe counters a charge from Cherokee Ryder with a back body drop, sending her crashing into a tray of mashed potatoes at ringside. Mia Russo: “Cherokee Ryder just got mashed—literally!” Carlotta sneaks up on Smythe, grabs a roasted turkey, and shoves it onto his head. She kicks him into the corner, leaving him flailing comically. Cherokee climbs the top rope for a high-risk maneuver, diving onto Carlotta with a crossbody. Both women crash through a table of pies and desserts at ringside, eliminating themselves. Gigdet Stephenson: “That’s two down, and the dessert table is history!” Isabella pulls off a desperation Canadian Destroyer on Blackthorne on the apron. The impact sends both tumbling to the floor, leaving Drake Nygma and Daron Smythe as the final two competitors. Smythe and Nygma trade heavy strikes in the ring, with smashed food covering the mat. Smythe sets up for his #1 Shot Running Knee, but Drake counters with a low blow, sending Smythe reeling. Drake grabs Smythe and lifts him into position for a piledriver. With the crowd on their feet, he drives Smythe through the buffet table in the center of the ring. Mia Russo: “Drake Nygma just destroyed Daron Smythe—and the buffet table—with that piledriver!” Drake covers Smythe amidst the wreckage for the 1-2-3! Winner: Drake Nygma wins the 2024 AWS Turkey Bowl! Drake stands triumphant, holding up a turkey leg as his music plays. The camera pans over the carnage—smashed food, broken tables, and battered wrestlers—as the commentators sign off. Gigdet Stephenson: “Drake Nygma just made Thanksgiving history! What a match!” Mia Russo: “Happy Thanksgiving from all of us at AWS—what a feast of action!”
  11. A single light bulb dangles from a frayed, cloth-wrapped cord, swaying slightly in the still air of the room. Its soft, yellow glow creates sharp contrasts, casting deep, flickering shadows against the bare wooden walls. The bulb’s light reflects faintly on the surface of a worn wooden table below, its grain marked by years of scratches and stains, each telling a story of its own. A lone chair, equally weathered, stands pulled out slightly as if someone had just left or is expected to sit. The setting feels both intimate and eerie, with the bulb’s faint hum breaking the silence. The surrounding space is cloaked in darkness, only hinted at by faint edges of other objects caught in the spill of light—a corner of a shelf, a hint of an old rug, or a cracked window that lets in no moonlight. Dust particles float lazily through the air, illuminated briefly as they drift through the cone of light. The atmosphere is heavy, filled with the sense of isolation, mystery, or quiet anticipation—an impression heightened by the stark simplicity of the setup. The minimalistic scene feels like it holds secrets, waiting for someone or something to reveal them. The door creaks open, and Daron Smythe steps into the room, his silhouette momentarily stark against the faint light spilling in from behind him. His presence fills the space immediately—a quiet, commanding energy that cuts through the dim, shadowed air. The bulb sways slightly in response to the movement, the flickering light dancing over his angular face and the sharp set of his jaw. His strides are deliberate, each step echoing faintly against the wooden floor, the rhythm steady and unshaken. A simple, worn backpack is slung over one shoulder, its seams stretched tight from being overpacked. The faint outline of the contents presses against the fabric—mysterious, yet intentional, as though each item was chosen with care. The bag brushes lightly against his back as he moves, its weight not slowing him in the slightest. Reaching the table, Daron pauses for a fraction of a second, his hand resting briefly on the back of the wooden chair before pulling it out. He lowers himself into the seat, movements fluid and controlled. Once seated, he leans forward slightly, placing both hands firmly on the table, his fingers splayed as if anchoring himself to the moment. Daron raises his head and looks directly into the camera, his eyes piercing through the lens. They’re intense—alive with both determination and fire—giving the impression he can see not just through the camera, but into the soul of whoever is watching. His gaze doesn’t waver, nor does it blink, as though he is holding the world in place with sheer will. When he speaks, his voice is steady and deliberate, each word delivered with weight and clarity. His expression remains unwavering, his purpose undeniable, as though every syllable carries the potential to change everything. The light bulb above casts stark shadows across his face, accentuating the raw determination etched into every line and curve, leaving no doubt that Daron Smythe is a man on a mission—and this is only the beginning. DARON: It may seem excessive and maybe even a bit cliched, but I chose every aspect of this room, this presentation, because I want the focus to be front and center. I want my message to be heard loud and clear, my own production to be more about substance than style. I want my intentions crystal clear and I want everyone watching this, whether we are wrestling one another or not, to fully understand who you are dealing with. When I signed my contract for Asylum Wrestling Society, I gave the green light to Charlie Feigel and the entire management team to use me as they see fit. That may be my greatest attribute, my reliability - week in, week out, show in, show out, no matter the circumstances, I will be there. I’ll be there putting on a show in that ring and on that microphone. All I need is to be handed the ball and I’ll score every fucking time. I may sound like a broken record when I talk about destiny. Maybe it is moreso my own stubborn will and determination? Whatever the reason, something about this just feels…right. I learned a long time ago whenever life keeps steering you in a certain direction you should lean into it. Something keeps bringing us together, Drake Nygma. The Sphinx. Dollia. All other entities that inhabit your psyche. Most people would be intimidated by someone like you. It is clear that you are very, very good. You are on a level well above many of the other competitors in the AWS. While the top championships have been passed around a little bit as of late, it seems like your destiny is to be at the top of this company as well. Like I said before, I told AWS management to put me in matches as they see fit, and it seems like I was becoming the perfect utility player for them. Again, it may be a sports cliche, but I am always ready for a fight, and if someone else is going to fumble, you’ll be damn sure I’ll pick up that ball. But then, they put us together. That type of challenge is humbling and inspiring at the same time. Since returning to wrestling nearly three years ago, I’ve never run from a challenge. I can take a loss and learn from it, move on, become stronger, better, smarter than before. In the UWL, Cory Chevelle beat the shit out of me - tossed me around the ring like a rag doll. Many popular wrestling pundits thought I would never come back from it, but I did just that - rebuilding myself in the Coronation Cup, becoming the only man in the company capable of beating Cory for that UWL World Title, the same one I proudly carry around with me now… Daron Smythe shifts in his seat, his eyes momentarily breaking their intense connection with the camera as his hand moves to the strap of the overstuffed backpack slung over his shoulder. With measured precision, he lowers the bag onto the wooden table, the fabric groaning softly as it settles. His movements are deliberate, like a man who understands the weight of the moment and wants every action to resonate. Unzipping the bag reveals a hint of what lies inside: the polished gleam of gold and leather. With a quiet, almost reverent care, Daron reaches in, his fingers brushing against the contours of the object as though it holds not just physical weight but the culmination of years of struggle, grit, and sacrifice. Slowly, he pulls out the UWL World Title, its faceplate catching the dim light of the swaying bulb above. The championship belt seems to radiate a glow of its own, its intricate engravings glinting like a testament to the countless battles it represents. As he places the title on the table before him, the belt lands with a solid yet gentle thud, its presence immediately commanding attention in the room. The leather straps spread out, framing the gleaming centerpiece that declares him the pinnacle of the wrestling world. Daron’s hand lingers on the belt for a moment, his fingers tracing the etching of the championship logo as though connecting with the history and meaning it embodies. His face transforms—confidence mingling with pride, a flicker of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth but never fully forming. The weight of accomplishment is there in his expression, alongside the determination that made it possible. His eyes flick back to the camera, burning even brighter now, as though daring anyone watching to challenge the legitimacy of what’s laid before them. Daron leans back slightly, one hand resting possessively on the belt, his posture exuding the quiet but undeniable authority of a man who knows his worth. When he speaks, his voice is filled with conviction, amplified by the presence of the title in front of him. The UWL World Title isn’t just a trophy—it’s proof. Proof of his dominance, his struggle, and his legacy. And the pride radiating from him makes it clear: this is a moment meant to be etched in history. DARON: This belt means a helluva lot to me. It symbolizes the culmination of all of the work I’ve put in to getting back to the top in professional wrestling - this belt, that company, is part of the reason I’m here now - if I don’t sign that UWL contract, then I’m not sitting here right now in AWS, ready for the fight of my life. And trust me, I’m ready for it. Like in that fight with Cory, I don’t mind the taste of my own blood. I don’t mind taking that first punch, to know I can absorb it. It’s like breaking the seal - the feeling is out of the way and I can focus on what is important. Drake, you speak about those buildings, the ivory towers - both literally and figuratively. I understand those comparisons. I’m not completely sure about the trauma you have lived through in your past that has gotten you to this state, but I know mine, and the character in my life is my own hometown, my city. A small piece of Appalachia that wishes to be bigger than it really is. A city that shaped me, both with its kindness of the regular folks I grew up with and those dimwitted assholes who were born into wealth and privilege. That’s exactly why the ivory tower metaphor makes me laugh - I’m not a person born into anything like that, nor do I believe I am incapable of failure. Yes, my bravado in calling myself the number one man in professional wrestling may sound arrogant, brash, over the top. However, it is that singular belief that pushes me to keep going. I’m not resting on my laurels as the number one man, and I know that no matter which company I am competing in, simply by making that declaration, I am inviting everyone’s daggers to be pointed in my direction. In my mind, it is another thing that makes us similar, how we view ourselves. Your human form, the Sphinx, Dollia, all of it - you view yourself as above the fray, passing judgment on all of us - entities you see as beneath you, but you have very human qualities. You allow your temper to control you, just like any man. I’ve done that as well. I signed with Hard Rock Wrestling because their owner handed me a contract offer that was so absurd, I’d be foolish to turn it down. I tried to do exactly what I do in any company, and just like that destiny I’ve talked about before, it led me to this… Daron Smythe adjusts his backpack, a faint smirk creeping across his face as he unzips it again, his motions steady and deliberate. The dim light from the single bulb above seems to dance in anticipation, catching the gleam of another prize nestled within the bag. Reaching inside, he pulls out another championship title: the Hard Rock Wrestling World Title. Its faceplate, though slightly scuffed from hard-fought battles, still shines with authority, reflecting not only the light but also the unmistakable tension of the moment. As Daron sets the belt on the table beside the UWL World Title, the motion carries a hint of defiance, a subtle statement laden with history. The Hard Rock Wrestling World Title lands with a heavier thud, its presence far more personal, like a grudge immortalized in gold and leather. The belt is broader, flashier, but somehow rougher around the edges, as if it symbolizes not just victory but the fire and fury it took to claim it. Daron’s smirk deepens as his hand lingers on the title, his fingers pressing into the leather as though feeling the weight of his own triumph. His expression darkens momentarily—an echo of the anger and determination that fueled him when he took that belt, not just for glory, but for something deeper. His eyes glint with a mix of satisfaction and unyielding intensity as he stares down at the title, his mind flickering back to Jayden Riley, the man whose arrogance and laziness made this championship a target. Jayden had bragged endlessly about winning the title with minimal effort, wearing it like a costume rather than a crown, belittling the blood, sweat, and tears others poured into the ring. Daron had taken it personally, channeling every ounce of his skill—and his infamous temper—into tearing that title from Riley's grasp. The Hard Rock Wrestling World Title wasn’t just a symbol of skill; it was a symbol of vindication, a trophy won not out of necessity but out of spite. Daron leans forward, the fire in his eyes blazing hotter now, his expression daring anyone to question his reasons, his drive, or his dominance. The light above catches the etching on the belt’s faceplate, highlighting its intricate design—now a monument to both his talent and his wrath. His voice, when it comes, carries a sharper edge, the weight of his words amplified by the dual championship display. The Hard Rock Wrestling World Title wasn’t just another accolade. It was a testament to Daron Smythe’s resolve, his refusal to be disrespected, and his ability to elevate anything he touches—even when it means proving a point to a man who dared to underestimate him. DARON: I can see that I’m starting to annoy you a bit, but that’s good, it shows you are a human, like me. Humans bleed, humans live, humans die. Sometimes humans let their emotions override their logic. I won this Hard Rock Wrestling title not only because I could, but because I let my anger and pride take over. I watched that good for nothing lazy prick Jayden Riley win the title and then do absolutely NOTHING with it. It made my blood boil - as a person who has had pro wrestling taken away from me, I would never EVER take something like that - a WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP - for granted, regardless of the company or the perceived prestige. Being able to channel these emotions, these flaws, these weaknesses and use them to fuel our passions, is a critical part of being successful. While I may not always harness those outbursts well, I’ve been more triumphant than not… With a slow, deliberate motion, Daron Smythe leans forward once more, his hands gripping the edge of the backpack as if savoring the moment. His eyes flicker with a quiet satisfaction as he reaches inside, the fabric rustling faintly. The room feels heavy with anticipation, the swaying bulb above casting fleeting glimmers of light onto the treasure yet to be revealed. His movements are calm but purposeful, a man who knows exactly what he’s about to do—and what it means. When his hand emerges, it holds the AWS Internet Championship, a belt that radiates prestige even in the dim light. Its polished gold plates reflect the bulb’s yellow glow, while the deep black leather strap anchors its brilliance with a sense of gravitas. Daron lays it out carefully on the table beside the UWL World Title and the Hard Rock Wrestling World Title, forming a growing testament to his dominance. The Internet Championship’s bold design stands out, its insignia symbolizing the reach and recognition of a platform that connected wrestling fans across the globe. Daron’s face softens for a brief moment, a flicker of pride crossing his features—not the fiery pride of a grudge or the cool pride of conquest, but the quiet satisfaction of someone who understands his value and has forced others to do the same. The AWS Internet Championship wasn’t handed to him; it was a recognition, a calculated reward from management that knew his worth and wanted to stake their claim on his rising star. Yet for Daron, it was never just a token of respect. It was a move in a larger game. He adjusts the belt on the table, aligning it meticulously with the others, his fingers brushing over the faceplate with purpose. His eyes burn with the vision of something greater. To others, this title might seem like a stepping stone, a rung on the ladder. For Daron, it’s a cornerstone—a key piece of his plan to cement his legacy by achieving the AWS Triple Crown. The Internet Championship was just the beginning. The Pure Championship was within reach, and the Asylum Heavyweight Title loomed on the horizon like the ultimate prize. Together, they represented not just personal achievement but a roadmap to redefining greatness in AWS. Each belt was a chapter in his story, a calculated step toward a legacy that no one could question. Daron leans back in his chair, a satisfied yet determined expression settling on his face. His gaze locks onto the camera again, his voice carrying the weight of his ambition and the inevitability of his success. The table in front of him now holds more than just championship gold; it holds a vision of dominance, a blueprint of a man who refuses to settle for anything less than complete and total supremacy. DARON: Like I said, when life steers me in a certain direction - I lean into it. I was put into the Internet Title match, now the Pure tournament, and after winning the Wicked Games Battle Rumble, I’m thrust into the Asylum Heavyweight title scene. I’m going to take these opportunities and create an AWS Triple Crown and hell, I’ll defend all the belts separately. There is one thing you will learn, Sphinx. It is my destiny to be the AWS Asylum Heavyweight Champion. The only variable… Is time… Daron snaps his fingers and the scene quickly cuts to black…
  12. [The scene opens in a dimly lit studio with a sleek, modern aesthetic. Sitting on one side of a polished black table is AWS interviewer Bryce Green, dressed sharply in a tailored suit, his microphone resting in front of him. Opposite him sits #1 Daron Smythe, casually confident, his AWS Internet Title draped over his shoulder. Daron is dressed in his signature leather jacket with a custom #1 logo embroidered on the back, his expression a mix of cocky and contemplative.] BRYCE: "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to this exclusive sit-down interview with one of the most talked-about competitors in professional wrestling today. Please welcome the AWS Internet Champion, #1 Daron Smythe." DARON: "Bryce, always a pleasure. And you're right about one thing—people can’t stop talking about me. But then again, when you're the #1 guy in this business, that's just how it goes." BRYCE: "Daron, let’s start with your recent success. At Wicked Games, you emerged victorious in the Battle Rumble, securing a contract for a future championship match. But before we get to that, let’s talk about the vacant Internet Title. You defeated Ace Sky, one of the most tenacious competitors in the game, to claim that gold. Walk us through that match." DARON: ""Ace Sky is a phenomenal athlete, no doubt about it. The guy has a gas tank that doesn’t quit, and he’s got heart for days. But at the end of the night, heart doesn’t get you wins. Skill, strategy, and knowing how to seize the moment—that’s what makes a champion. I knew Ace would come at me with everything he had, but the truth is, he didn’t have what it takes to beat me. That’s why this title"—Smythe pats the Internet Title on his shoulder—"is right where it belongs."* BRYCE: "Congratulations on that victory, but there’s no time to rest. You’ve been booked in another high-profile match on the next edition of Ward. You’ll face the current AWS Asylum Heavyweight Champion, Summer Rayne. Let’s talk about her for a moment. She’s a four-time champion and, as many say, the franchise of AWS." DARON: "Summer Rayne is everything people say she is—and maybe more. She’s the heart and soul of AWS, the most consistent performer on this roster. Four-time champion? That’s not a fluke. She’s built her legacy on grit, determination, and being better than anyone who steps in the ring with her. But let’s not forget one thing, Bryce—I didn’t come here to ride on anyone’s coattails. Summer Rayne might be the franchise, but franchises fall. Giants get slayed. And when she steps into the ring with me, she’ll find out firsthand why I am the #1 man in professional wrestling." BRYCE: "Before your match on Ward, Summer has to defend her title on Throwdown against two formidable opponents: Ethan Murphy, the former champion who held the title for an impressive 177 days, and Drake Nygma, someone you’re very familiar with." DARON: "Let’s start with Ethan Murphy. The guy’s hungry—when you’ve been at the top for 177 days, it’s hard to swallow being on the outside looking in. Ethan’s going to bring everything he has to get that title back, and I respect that. But respect doesn’t win matches. Then there’s Drake Nygma. Let me tell you something, Bryce—Drake Nygma might be the toughest opponent I’ve faced since I returned to this business. Tougher than Cory Chevelle. Tougher than Cyrus Rinaldi in the UWL. The guy’s a wildcard, unpredictable, dangerous. But I’ve beaten tough before, and I’ll do it again." BRYCE: "Any of those three—Summer, Ethan, or Drake—could be holding the Asylum Heavyweight Title when you decide to cash in your Wicked Games contract. Does that change your approach?" DARON: "Not at all. Whoever’s holding that title when the time comes, they’re going to learn the same thing Ace Sky did, the same thing Jayden Riley did, and the same thing everyone else who’s ever faced me learns—I’m the real deal. I’m not here to test the waters; I’m here to test myself against the best. Whether it’s Summer Rayne, Ethan Murphy, or Drake Nygma holding that gold, they’re going to find out why I’m not just #1 by name—I’m #1 by skill, by results, and by destiny." BRYCE: "You’ve been in main events across multiple promotions, Daron. It seems like you’re always in the spotlight. Why do you think that is?" DARON: "Simple, Bryce. People know talent when they see it. The fans know it, the wrestlers in that locker room know it, and the promoters sure as hell know it. I’m money. I’m box office. When you see Daron Smythe on the marquee, you know you’re getting the best in the business. And that’s why I keep getting these opportunities—because I deliver every single time." BRYCE: "Final question: What’s your ultimate goal in AWS?" DARON: : "To prove—without a shadow of a doubt—that I’m not just the best in AWS, but the best in the world. Titles, main events, accolades—they’re all just stepping stones to the legacy I’m building. And when people talk about the greatest to ever do it, they’re going to have no choice but to put my name at the top of the list. Because, Bryce, let’s face it—I’m #1 for a reason." [The camera lingers on Smythe’s confident smirk as he adjusts the Internet Title on his shoulder. Bryce Green thanks the champion, and the screen fades to black, leaving viewers buzzing about the high-stakes matches and rivalries ahead in AWS.]
  13. (Please have this before the Daron Smythe/Ace Sky match) [The camera fades into the AWS backstage interview area. #1 Daron Smythe is seated confidently across from AWS backstage interviewer Laura Andersen. Both are calm but poised for a compelling discussion, with the glow of the evening's excitement filling the atmosphere.] LAURA: "Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome my guest at this time, #1 Daron Smythe. Tonight, Daron faces a tough challenge in Ace Sky for the AWS Internet Title. Daron, thanks for joining me." DARON: "Thanks for having me, Laura. Always a pleasure to talk about what I’m here to do." LAURA: "Daron, tonight you’re facing Ace Sky—a competitor known for his incredible athleticism and high-flying style. How are you feeling about this match?" DARON: "Look, there’s no denying Ace Sky’s talent, Laura. He’s fast, he’s fearless, and he’s got that crowd on the edge of their seats every time he steps through those ropes. But there’s something missing. He’s got the moves, sure, but he doesn’t have that it factor. He lacks that killer instinct, that consistency. It’s what separates a great performer from a true champion—someone a company can depend on to deliver, show in and show out." LAURA: "So, you’re saying Ace Sky just doesn’t have what it takes to stay on top in AWS?" DARON: "Exactly. Being a champion isn’t just about talent; it’s about being reliable, about knowing when to switch gears and go into that dark place if you have to. Ace is good, but I’m here to prove that being great takes more than just high-flying moves and a crowd reaction. I have what he’s missing—and tonight, I’ll show everyone that when it counts, I’m the one who delivers." LAURA: "Tonight’s match aside, Daron, you’ve been on a roll since coming to AWS. After winning the Wicked Games Battle Rumble, you earned a guaranteed shot at the Asylum Heavyweight Title. How has that momentum been for you?" DARON: "Laura, the momentum’s been nothing short of incredible. Coming into AWS, getting drafted to Monday Night Ward, and then going on to win the Wicked Games Battle Rumble—all of that is just the start of what I’m here to accomplish. Winning that Rumble proved I’m not just some guy who’s here to make up the numbers. I’m here to make a statement. And that guaranteed shot at the Asylum Heavyweight Title is only the beginning." LAURA: "Speaking of the Asylum Heavyweight Title, that championship is currently held by Summer Rayne. How are you feeling about eventually going up against someone with her skills and reputation?" DARON: "Summer Rayne’s been a strong champion, no doubt about it. She’s worked hard to get where she is, and I respect that. But every reign has an end, Laura, and Summer’s going to find out that I’m not just another challenger. I’m the challenger. I’m the one who’s here to make history, not just to show up. I’ve got the drive, the vision, and, yeah—the killer instinct that I keep saying Ace lacks. Summer may be the champ now, but when my time comes, she’ll be facing someone who’s on a completely different level." LAURA: "It sounds like you’re very clear about what your goals are here in AWS." DARON: "Absolutely. My destiny here is the same as it is anywhere else I go—to be the world champion. I’m not here to take part; I’m here to take over. The only variable is time, Laura. Whether it’s Ace Sky tonight, Summer Rayne tomorrow, or anyone else who steps in my path, they’re just obstacles in the way of what I’m here to achieve." LAURA: "Well, it sounds like the AWS roster has been put on notice. Daron, thank you for your time, and best of luck tonight against Ace Sky." DARON: "Thank you, Laura. Just watch—tonight, the real show begins." [The scene fades as Daron and Laura exchange a nod, leaving viewers with a sense that #1 Daron Smythe’s rise in AWS is only gaining momentum.]
  14. [Scene opens with a professionally lit AWS backstage set. The logo of AWS is prominently displayed in the background, and interviewer Laura Andersen is seated across from Daron Smythe, who is wearing a sharp suit with his UWL World Title resting on his lap and the ECWF Midwest Title draped over the arm of the chair. Smythe has a confident grin as he leans back, waiting for the interview to start.] LAURA: Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to AWS Backstage. I'm Laura Andersen, and today we have the pleasure of sitting down with one of the most accomplished and talked-about wrestlers in the business today, Daron Smythe, also known as "#1." Daron, thank you for joining me. DARON: The pleasure's all mine, Laura. [smirking] It's not every day you get to sit with the #1 man in professional wrestling. LAURA: [laughs lightly] Fair enough! Daron, you've been incredibly busy lately, juggling a variety of commitments across several promotions. I don’t know if anyone has ever held as many titles and challenges at once as you have right now. Let’s start with UWL—you're the reigning UWL World Champion, and you've got a huge "I Quit" match coming up against Cyrus Rinaldi. How are you preparing for that? DARON: [adjusting the UWL World Title on his lap] It’s simple, Laura. I’m preparing the same way I always do—by being better than everyone else. Rinaldi’s a tough guy, no doubt about that, but he’s not me. He’s not willing to do whatever it takes to win, and that’s why, when all is said and done, I’ll still be the UWL World Champion. "I Quit" matches? They favor the mentally strong, and no one in this business is stronger than Daron Smythe. LAURA: Not only are you the UWL World Champion, but you're also holding the ECWF Midwest Championship. How do you balance defending multiple titles and still finding time to challenge for even more? DARON: Balance? [chuckles] Laura, when you're as good as I am, you don’t need balance. I’ve got the ECWF Midwest Championship, sure, but that’s just one step. The Midwest Title is a prestigious belt, don’t get me wrong, but it’s not enough for a guy like me. I’m eyeing the ECWF World Title soon. And while I’m busy over there, I’ve got HRW on my plate, where I’m set to challenge for the HRW World Title. But let’s not forget, I’ve got my hands in MAINSTREAM Wrestling too, where I’m the mystery opponent for Lex Collins, the World Champion. People are speculating all over the place about who will show up. Well, surprise! It’s the #1 man himself, Daron Smythe. Lex Collins won’t know what hit him. That belt will look real good next to the UWL and Midwest titles, don’t you think? LAURA: [nodding] You certainly have your hands full. Speaking of that, AWS is now a part of your schedule as well. You've already notched some big wins here, defeating Tokyo Ghost and Monster Mack, and even holding your own in a hard-fought draw against the former champion, Drake Nygma. Now, you’re gearing up for an Internet Title match against Ace Sky. What’s going through your mind? DARON: [smirking] Ace Sky… man, this guy. We’ve danced in UWL, we’ve thrown down in ECWF, and now here we are in AWS. I gotta say, I respect the hell out of Ace. He’s probably the most underrated wrestler in all of pro wrestling today. He’s quick, he’s agile, he’s got the heart of a lion. But—and there’s always a but—he’s not me. He’s not Daron Smythe, the #1 guy in this business. We’ve had some epic battles before, but I’ve always come out on top when it matters most. This time, it’s no different. The Internet Title? It’s nice. It’s a stepping stone, Laura. A stepping stone to something bigger. I’ll take that title off Ace, I’ll defend it with pride, and I’ll make it mean something before I level up to the world championship scene in AWS. LAURA: Ace Sky is no stranger to championships himself, but it sounds like you’re confident you’ll be the one to walk out with the Internet Title. DARON: [laughs] Confident? Laura, I’m beyond confident. I’m certain. Ace might be good, maybe even great on his best day, but he’s not better than me. No one is. I mean, look at my track record! I’ve beaten the best in UWL, I’m dominating in ECWF, I’m about to take over HRW, and now AWS. Everywhere I go, I win. Ace Sky? He’s just another stepping stone, and this Internet Title is just the beginning. LAURA: You talk about the Internet Title being a stepping stone. What’s next after that for Daron Smythe in AWS? Are you already eyeing the World Title? DARON: [leaning forward] Let me make one thing clear. The Internet Title is a way for me to solidify my place here, to show AWS and everyone else that I’m not just here to pad my resume. I’m here to take over. I’ll make that title mean something because, wherever Daron Smythe goes, gold follows. And after I’ve established myself with that belt, yeah, I’m coming for bigger fish. Whether it’s the AWS Asylum Heavyweight or Global Championship or any other major title, there’s no ceiling for me. The Internet Title is just the warm-up, the appetizer. The main course? That’s a World Title, and soon enough, it’ll be mine. LAURA: Daron, with such a packed schedule and so many titles on the line, it’s amazing how you keep the energy going. Any final thoughts before your upcoming match against Ace Sky? DARON: [smirks and looks into the camera] Final thoughts? Sure. Ace, if you're watching—and I know you are—you might be flying high right now, but you’re about to crash. Hard. Because there’s only room for one #1 in this business, and that’s me. I’ll see you on Monday Night Ward, where the Internet Title becomes mine, and you? You’ll just be a footnote in the #1 man’s story. Get ready to be outclassed… again. LAURA: There you have it, folks. Daron Smythe, never short on confidence, is set to take on Ace Sky for the AWS Internet Championship. It’s sure to be an exciting match. Daron, thank you for your time, and good luck. DARON: [stands up and straightens his suit] Luck? I don't need it. Destiny is on my side. It is my destiny to be World Champion - the only variable...is time. [He gives the camera a final smirk before walking off, both championship belts in hand.] LAURA: And that’s all for today’s sit-down with the #1 man in professional wrestling. Be sure to catch Daron Smythe in action on Monday Night Ward as he goes for the AWS Internet Championship. Thanks for watching! [Fade to black.]
  15. Scene opens in a dimly lit locker room. The camera is positioned low, showing only the legs of Daron Smythe as he laces up his wrestling boots. The flickering light casts long shadows on the cold concrete floor. Slowly, the camera pans upward, revealing Daron Smythe, the battle scars of a lifetime of in-ring wars, the intensity in his eyes, and the unshakable determination on his face. He looks up, his reflection visible in a cracked mirror, as he begins to speak... DARON: (softly, almost to himself) The Sphinx... Drake Nygma... a man lost in the sands of time. Yet here you stand, holding onto ancient myths, tangled in the web of avatars and identities, like a riddle that only you know the answer to. This persona...these personas, a defense mechanism, to avoid or redirect some past trauma in your life. These delusions of grandeur. I'm not sure where it all comes from - part of me is empathetic and sympathetic to your plight, knowing those who have experience traumatic events that caused that schism in you...but... He stands, taking a step closer to the camera. His voice grows louder, more confident, yet still measured.... DARON: ...I’ve watched your little production, Drake, and while I commend the effort, it left me with one question: What are you really running from? You can hide behind the personas of ancient gods, whisper tales of rebirth and punishment all you want, but the truth is, you're afraid. You're afraid of what comes next. Because what comes next, Drake, is a future that doesn't need the past—doesn't need relics, myths, or ancient riddles. It needs something real. Something undeniable. And that, my friend, is where I come in. He smirks, his confidence growing as he takes a moment to flex his neck, his intensity rising.... DARON: You see, I’m not some mystical figure reborn in the fires of ancient Egypt, chasing prophecies and listening to whispers from gods. No. I’m born and bred right here. Wheeling, West Virginia. I’m as real as it gets, Drake. Flesh and blood. Sweat and steel. And while you pontificate about the cleansing nature of fire and the burdens of immortality, I focus on one thing, and one thing only—the climb to the top. The #1 spot. He pauses, letting his words sink in.... DARON: But let me break it down for you, Drake, in a language you might understand. You speak of gods and executioners, of avatars and systems, as if the weight of history bears down on your shoulders. But history... history only matters to those who don’t have a future. You’ve built yourself a nice little cocoon of mythology, wrapping yourself in the comforting embrace of darkness. But that won’t save you from what’s coming. It won’t save you from the reality of what happens when you step into that ring with me. His eyes narrow, his face now only inches from the camera lens, as the intensity in his voice heightens... DARON: You think you’ve got it all figured out, don’t you? You think you're playing some cosmic game, holding the secrets of the universe in your hands. But there’s something you don’t understand about me, about the man standing before you. You think you’re the executioner? You think you're the one who decides who falls and who survives? That’s laughable. I was born and raised in this small town where privilege was handed out in droves to those legacy families and the old money - and I was this kid from a trailer court who made it out. I don’t need ancient gods or alien avatars to guide my hand. I’ve walked through hell and back, Drake. I’ve earned everything in this business with my blood, my sweat, and my broken bones. I am my own executioner. And at AWS Wicked Games, the only thing you’ll be executing is your chance at being anything more than a footnote in my rise to the top. Smythe starts pacing slowly, his hands gesturing to emphasize his words... DARON: Let’s talk about this little concept you threw around: punishment. You’re obsessed with it. It’s funny because when I look at you, all I see is a man desperately trying to punish himself for sins no one else cares about. You’re punishing yourself for being weak. You talk about keeping Drake in line, controlling his emotions, as if that’s what makes you strong. But that’s where you’ve already lost. Strength doesn’t come from suppression. Strength comes from embracing who you are, from standing tall in your own skin and daring the world to knock you down. He stops and turns back to face the camera head-on, his voice full of conviction.... DARON: This Saturday on Throwdown you and I are both walking into that ring with one goal in mind - to carve a path towards one of the top titles here in AWS. I'm sure you, or the personas within you, are desperate to get back to the top.. The difference is, I don’t need to hide behind a persona to get there. I don’t need the shadows of some ancient, long-dead entity to justify my existence. I’ve earned this. I’ve scratched, clawed, and bled for this moment. You? You’ve lived in the past for so long that you’ve forgotten what it means to fight for your future. He takes a deep breath, calming himself before continuing.... DARON: You say you’re the Sphinx. You say you’re here to judge, to sentence. But when the dust settles, the only judgment that will matter is mine. And I don’t judge based on ancient prophecies or mythical riddles. I judge based on what happens inside that squared circle. When that bell rings, all the talk, all the theatrics, all the stories... they won’t mean a damn thing. It’ll just be you and me, Drake. And I will show you, and everyone else, why I am the future of AWS. Smythe’s voice drops to a whisper, but the intensity remains. DARON: You think you can burn me in your funeral pyre? You think your fire will cleanse me, purify me? Drake, I’ve been forged in a fire you can’t even comprehend. I don’t break. I don’t bend. And when I throw you over that top rope, when I’m the last man standing in that ring, you’ll finally understand... I am the number one man in professional wrestling for a reason.. [He steps back, flexing his arms, the veins in his neck pulsating with adrenaline.] DARON: Drake, this isn’t about fate. This isn’t about destiny. This is about one simple truth: The #1 and Done Superkick is all it takes to end your little fantasy. Your riddles won’t save you, your gods won’t protect you, and your darkness? Well, I’ll walk right through it. He smirks again, that trademark cocky smile crossing his face... DARON: So run along, Drake. Hide in the shadows, consult your gods, tell yourself whatever you need to sleep at night. But when the lights shine bright, and the fans are screaming my name, you’ll realize there’s no escape. There’s no reincarnation. No resurrection. Just reality. And the reality is, Daron Smythe is walking out of Throwdown as the winner because my destiny is to be World Champion. The only variable.... He turns away from the camera, heading toward the locker room door. Before stepping out, he looks back one last time, his eyes cold and determined... DARON: ...is time. The screen fades to black as the door slams shut, echoing through the empty hall....

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