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Tag Team Match

Vin Halsted & KD Feigel vs. The Summer Boyz
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[Scene: A dimly lit locker room, the scent of sweat and stale beer lingering in the air. The walls are lined with old posters of past Grindhouse Wrestling (GHW) events, bloodstained mats, and bent steel chairs from wars long fought. In the center, sitting on a wooden bench, taping up his fists with an almost ritualistic intensity, is Kid Kaos—KD Feigel. The son of a legend. The heir to the ultraviolent throne. He looks up, a cocky smirk forming as he shakes his head.]


KD Feigel:
"You ever walk into a room and feel every set of eyes on you… but the second you look back, they all turn away? Like they suddenly got somethin’ real important to do? Yeah. That’s my life in every damn locker room I step into."

"Ain't 'cause they fear me. Not yet. Nah, it’s 'cause of my name. Kid Kaos. KD Feigel. Son of the man, the architect of Grindhouse Wrestling, the one and only Charlie Feigel himself. Pops built this house with his own blood, sweat, and a few too many broken bones. He made Grindhouse what it is—ultraviolence, no mercy, pure carnage. The place where legends are forged, and bodies are broken. And because of that? Some of these boys look at me like I ain't earned my spot. Like I got a shortcut straight to the top just 'cause of my last name."

"But lemme tell you somethin’—that shit don’t fly with me."

"I ain't here to ride nobody’s coattails. I ain’t here to sit pretty and let daddy’s legacy carry me. I break my knuckles just like everyone else in this company. I eat chair shots. I go through tables. I bleed, I suffer, and I come back for more. Anybody who’s got a problem with me? They can step up, but they better step right, ‘cause I ain’t losin’ sleep over some jealous locker room nobodies. My last name don’t make me better than anyone. My work does. My pain does. My fight does."

"And at GHW Border Wars, y’all are gonna see exactly what that means when I step in that ring alongside one of the baddest men to ever do it—Vin Halsted."


[KD leans back against the locker, smirking as he pulls his wrist tight on the tape, nodding to himself.]


"Now, I got respect for Vin. Guy’s a straight-up killer. A man who’s been through it, won gold, broke bodies, did it all. No doubt about it—he’s a certified legend. But when that bell rings? He’s just another body standing next to me. I don’t do partnerships, I don’t do best buddies. I do winners. If he pulls his weight, great. If he don’t? I’ll put the damn match on my back, drag it through the mud, and still get my hand raised when it's all said and done."

"‘Cause on the other side of the ring, we got Bill and Don Summer—the Summer Boyz. And lemme tell ya, they ain’t no joke. They got chemistry, they got experience, they got that brotherly bond that makes ‘em dangerous in that ring. They’re the type that’ll take a beating and still come back for more. But guess what? That’s Grindhouse, baby. We all come back for more."

"Difference is, some of us come back meaner. Nastier. Hungrier. That’s me. That’s why at Border Wars, whether Vin Halsted’s on the same page as me or not, we’re walking out with the W. That’s not a prediction, that’s a guarantee. ‘Cause in Grindhouse, you don’t just win matches—you survive ‘em. And I survive better than anybody."


[KD stands up, cracking his knuckles, rolling his neck from side to side. His eyes darken, the smirk fading into something more sinister.]


"Bill. Don. I hope y’all are ready. I hope you been training, watching tape, coming up with strategies and all that. ‘Cause none of it’s gonna matter once that bell rings. You can fight smart, you can fight dirty, hell, you can fight for your goddamn lives—but you can’t fight destiny. And right now? Destiny says Kid Kaos is leavin’ Border Wars with a win."

"Y’all are tough. But I’m tougher. Y’all want it? But I need it. And when that’s the equation? There’s only one outcome."

"See you boys in the trenches."


[With that, KD slams his locker shut and walks out, his footsteps echoing down the hall. Border Wars awaits. And Kid Kaos is ready to claim his place—whether the world’s ready for it or not.]

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