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Non-Title
Singles Match
Daron Smythe© vs. Eric Herrera

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.

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.


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