Battle Rumble Match

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AWS Interstate Championship

Battle Rumble Match

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Mason Hurst versus Adam Stryker versus Wild Willey versus Rockin' Lunatic versus Hector Venegas versus Kofi Von Erich versus El Halcón Azul versus TJ Alexander versus Ace Sky

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Man of His Word

The scene opens in the backyard of Adam Stryker’s house. The LA sun shines down on the green grass. It’s calm and quiet. The kids are at school, his wife Maria is inside taking care of chores, so Adam can be outside and reflect. The camera finds the veteran wrestler walking through the backyard.

“I hope everybody saw Ward this past Tuesday. Saw that I am a man of my word,” Stryker says calmly, looking into the distance. Only then he turns around to address the camera directly.

“I said Hector Venegas is still figuring himself out after all those years. He confirmed that when he decided to start wearing a mask again just before facing me. I said no matter what he tries, I will wrestle him to the ground. And I did just that. Put him to sleep in the center of the ring, no bullshit needed.”

Stryker smirks, satisfied with himself.

“I hope that really shows the AWS management, and all of you watching, that Adam Stryker is all he says he is and more. That AWS made a statement by signing me and now I will make my statement when I win one of the titles from their rich championship gallery.

Notice that I said WIN,” he barks, letting the word echo for a second. “If you stayed after my match at Ward and watched the main event, you know AWS is just giving out titles now. That you can become a champion even if you’re the first one eliminated. A shiny gold belt for being the first one to lose.”

Stryker chuckles and shakes his head.

“No offense to any of the former world champs in that match… But that’s not how I roll. I don’t take championships as consolation prizes. When I walk into Detroit for Survival of the Fittest, whether I’ll have to go through the eight other people currently advertised for the match, or anybody else that wants to throw their name in the hat, I intend to do what I’ve always done. And that is EARN the title,” he says as if he’s lecturing those on the roster he doesn’t quite respect. He folds his arms across his chest.

“The reason why I have to be the favorite to win this match is simple. I even said it already but I’ll repeat it for the slower individuals watching this – It’s because Adam Stryker is a man of his word. When I say I will run the gauntlet in that match and drop every single fool that’s in my way, I mean it and I will do everything to fulfill it. The rest of the field are not like me. They are the same as most of the people I’ve had the displeasure of knowing over my two decades in the business. Hypocrites.”

Stryker’s expression hardens as he stares down the camera.

“Wild Willey tried to take our fight outside the ring, tried his outlaw shit on me, and when that didn’t work, he said I ‘moved out of his way’. No Willey, I promised you a beating the next time I see you, and that time is coming,” he nods.

“Hector Venegas tried to disprove my words about him not knowing who he really is, and did it while wearing a mask and changing his persona once again. He tried to flex the AWS World Heavyweight title he won a long time ago, but still ended up looking at the lights,” Stryker insists.

“TJ Alexander talked a big game, disrespected a veteran in Mike Dimter and kept insisting how there was no chance he would not walk out of Ward without the C4 Championship… And then he lost. He wasn’t as amazing as he claimed, was he? And even though he should be crawling back to the end of the line, he gets another title shot, this time for the Interstate title. Same with Ace Sky, who failed to claim the Fusion Championship and still gets another shot immediately in the Battle Rumble. Even if all he talked about was the fact he needs to get surgery.”

Stryker lets out a big sigh.

“I could go on and on… But you get my point.”

He puts his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

“As you may know, I’m a bit of a history buff and unlike many leaders of this world, I am aware we have to learn from history so we don’t repeat our mistakes. The situation I find myself in, surrounded by ambitious hypocrites, reminds me of the aftermath of Alexander the Great’s death.

When he died, in 323 BC, he left no clear successor. The Diadochi, his generals, spent the next four decades fighting one another. Most died bloody deaths in unnecessary battles. Only a handful of them survived and managed to carve out a little piece of the kingdom for themselves… But nobody REALLY won. The empire that Alexander built was never whole again.

Why? The crown was there for the taking. There was just nobody strong or smart enough to claim it immediately. Nobody with a good enough strategy, just a bunch of men throwing themselves into battle. Fighting for scraps I don’t settle for. That’s the part of the story I intend to learn from,” he says, tapping the side of his head.

“The men I talked about earlier, and anybody who decides to join the Battle Rumble, can try to fight as hard as they want. No matter how bloody this battle gets, this time, there will be a strong, smart man waiting for his opportunity to make the empire his. Only this time, there is no crown to show who’s the new leader, but the AWS Interstate Championship.

March 17th, at Survival of the Fittest… Adam Stryker will build his empire in AWS.”

We fade to black.

The room is quiet except for the faint sound of candle wax dripping.

Dozens of flames flicker along the walls, their violet shadows stretching and twisting like they’re trying to listen.

At the small round table in the center sits Oopsy Daisy.

They shuffle the Deck of Oops slowly, thoughtfully.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

A card slides halfway out of the deck as if impatient.

Oopsy tilts their head.

“Oh… you’re excited today.”

They pull the card free.

The Wheel of Fortune.

Oopsy studies it for a long moment… then shrugs.

“Ah.”

Beat.

“A game.”

Another card slips out.

The Fool.

Oopsy’s eyes brighten.

“Oh good.”

They clap their hands once in delight.

“A game full of fools.”

They stand, sweep the cards into a messy pile, and grin like someone who just discovered the greatest board game ever invented.

“A Battle Rumble.”

They say the words like a child discovering candy.

“So many moving pieces… so many accidents waiting to happen.”

They shuffle again.

“Let’s see who’s playing.”

The next card flips over.

Blank.

Oopsy blinks.

“…That’s new.”

Fluorescent lights hum loudly.

Rows of cereal boxes stretch down the aisle like colorful monuments to sugar.

In the middle of it stands Oopsy Daisy, leaning casually against a shopping cart.

They flip tarot cards across a shelf between Cornflakes and Instant Noodles.

One card landed perfectly balanced on a can of soup.

Oopsy nods approvingly.

“Good throw.”

They pull out a notebook.

Written across the top:

AWS Battle Rumble

Underneath it are names.

Oopsy reads the first.

“Mason Hurst.”

They squint thoughtfully.

Then glance at the cereal.

“Hmm.”

They pick up a heavy family-sized box.

“Feels like a large man.”

Nod.

“Possibly breaks furniture.”

They write:

Prediction: punches like a brick wall and takes things very seriously.

Next name.

“Adam Stryker.”

Oopsy raises an eyebrow.

“Oh, that’s definitely a guy who points dramatically before hitting someone.”

They mimic a dramatic finger point.

“STRYKER!”

They pause.

Then whisper to the cereal boxes:

“He probably owns sunglasses.”

Next name.

“Wild Willey.”

Oopsy stops writing.

They stare into the distance.

Then slowly smile.

“Oh, this one is chaos.”

They lean closer to the camera.

“The good kind.”

A card flips across the shelf.

It lands upside down.

Oopsy flips it.

The Tower.

“…Oops.”

Dryers hum.

Washing machines spin like tiny portals to other dimensions.

Oopsy Daisy sits on top of a folding table, tarot cards scattered beside them.

They stare thoughtfully at one particular washer.

It spins aggressively.

Oopsy nods like the universe just confirmed something embarrassing.

“Yes.”

They whisper.

“That’s exactly how this is going to go.”

They check the list again.

“Hector Venegas.”

Oopsy taps their chin.

“That is a very heroic name.”

They picture something.

Hand to chest.

Noble stance.

“Yes.”

“Definitely heroic.”

Beat.

“Also probably gets thrown over the top rope by three people at once.”

They scribble a note.

Next.

“Kofi Von Erich.”

Oopsy blinks.

Then slowly sits up straighter.

“That name sounds dangerous.”

They nod solemnly.

“Yes.”

“That name comes with history.”

The washer machine BANGS loudly.

Oopsy points at it.

“See?”

They whisper to the machine.

“You get it.”

Next name.

“El Halcón Azul.”

Oopsy lights up immediately.

“Oh, that one flies.”

They flap their arms like wings.

“Very dramatic.”

They grin.

“Someone is definitely going to miss a top rope dive.”

They pause.

Then whisper:

“…Probably into Mason Hurst.”

They write it down.

Oopsy flips another card onto a cereal box.

“TJ Alexander.”

They consider.

“Responsible name.”

They nod respectfully.

“Probably the person who reads the rulebook before the game starts.”

They lean closer to the camera.

“That person always suffers the most.”

Final name.

“Ace Sky.”

Oopsy gasps quietly.

“Oh, that’s a very fast guy.”

They gesture upward.

“Lots of flips.”

They tilt their head.

Then point dramatically at the air.

“Someone is going to catch him.”

They flip a card.

The Fool.

Oopsy grins like a gremlin who just solved a puzzle.

“Oh yes.”

“Definitely a catch.”

Back at the table.

Candles flicker violently now.

The cards are spread everywhere.

Oopsy Daisy stands in the middle of them like a delighted fortune teller at a carnival.

They clap their hands excitedly.

“A Battle Rumble!”

They spin a tarot card across the table.

“So many wrestlers.”

Another card flips.

“So many egos.”

Another.

“So many opportunities for—”

The final card lands face-up.

The Fool.

Oopsy stares at it.

Then smiles.

“…Oops.”

They lean forward and whisper to the camera.

“Someone will trip.”

Beat.

“Someone will fly.”

Beat.

“Someone will get very angry.”

They pick up one last card and hold it toward the camera.

The Wheel of Fortune.

“And someone…”

They grin mischievously.

“…is going to accidentally win a championship.”

Oopsy tilts their head.

Then shrugs casually.

“Maybe me.”

They toss the card over their shoulder.

It lands perfectly on the table behind them.

Oopsy glances back.

Nods approvingly.

“…Well.”

They grin.

“Let’s see what happens.”

Fade out.

“…Oopsy Daisy.”

The candles flicker as Oopsy Daisy slowly turns over one last card.

They stare at it.

Their head tilts slightly.

“…Oh.”

A pause.

Oopsy leans closer to the camera and lowers their voice like they’ve just realized something extremely funny.

“In this game… the way you lose is very simple.”

They slowly raise a hand and gesture toward an invisible set of ropes.

“You go up…”

Their hand rises.

“…and then you go out.”

Their hand casually drops off the side of the table.

Oopsy nods thoughtfully.

“Gravity is very consistent.”

They flip another card from the Deck of Oops and glance down at it.

Their eyebrows lift.

“Well that’s interesting.”

They turn the card slightly away from the camera so the audience can’t see it.

“Oh dear.”

A small goblin-like grin spreads across their face.

“This one says the winner of the Battle Rumble will be someone who thinks tonight was supposed to go very differently.”

They tap the card twice.

“…Oops.”

Oopsy slides the mystery card back into the deck without revealing it.

Then they shrug.

“Good luck.”

El Halcon Azul RP

Wild Willey is walking out of a local arena, a child with his cellphone out is filming Wild Willey

Child - Willey! You suck!

Wild Willey - Out of my way kid.

Child - You're the worst wrestler in the AWS

Wild Willey - Open your eyes kid, its obvious you haven't seen the rest of those so called "wrestlers" in that locker room.

Wild Willey ushes the kid out of the way and starts walking past him

Child - You're gonna lose at Survival of the Fittest!

Wild Willey turns around, walks towards the child, gets within a few inches of the child and stares down at him without touching him

Wild Willey - Look over there kid.

Willey points to a man standing over by a wall near a building

Wild Willey - I'm guessing by the way that man looks, and how he's acting right now, that he's your father.

The child gets nervous, the man looks on, taking a little step forward, than stepping back again

Wild Willey - Is that scared man your daddy little kid?

Child - Uhhhh, ya.

Wild Willey starts laughing

Wild Willey - I can tell. Look at him kid, look at your daddy, look at him tremble. Look at him, afraid to step up to me, afraid to confront the man who's staring down his own kid.

I point at the man

Wild Willey - Your daddy, is a coward, just like you, and just like those children in the locke room.

I step a little closer to the child

Wild Willey - Look at that, I get closer to you and you cower in fear, your "Daddy" stands over their, about to piss himself, scared, a whimpering child himself, willing to allow his own child, his own flesh and blood to get it's ass beat.

Willey stares down at the child

Wild Willey - You think i'm gonna lose. You think i'm not gonna win the AWS Interstate Championship. Well let me tell you kid. You watch the AWS and you see wrestlers doing there pretty promos, each talking about winning the AWS Interstate Championship, focusing on the title match, and winning that belt.

Child - You're not gonna win the title.

Wild Willey - See that's where you don't know a damn thing about what you're talking about kid. You assume that I want the title, that I want to win the AWS Interstate Championship. Lets get this straight right here and right now.

Wild Willey points at the arena

Wild Willey - Those wrestlers, want to win the title, those wrestlers want to be a "somebody".

Wild Willey take his thumbs and points it towards his own face

Wild Willey - But this guy, the last True Outlaw, just wants to whoop some ass. I don't care about no shiny belt, I already have a shiny belt.

Wild Willey points to his belt buckle

Wild Willey - You have to understand something kid, i'm not here for title chances, for title reigns and i'm not here to make people happy. I've been saying it ever since I first arrived in the AWS, the talent in the back, is soft, a bunch of sissies who need to be reminded about what wrestling is all about. So i'm doing my part, i'm being a servant of the people, to beat the living crap out of every single one of those wrestlers in the back, until they learn, to no longer be soft, to no longer be a sissy, to appreciate those who came before you and to respect those who came before you, especially me, the last True Outlaw.

Wild Willey stares down at the child

Wild Willey - I look at a Battle Royal, and I lick my chops, what better way for me to raise hell and create havoc than in a match where I have the opportunity to beat the living hell out of 8 people all at the same time. Like I said, I don't care who win, all I care about it kicking a lot of ass, and whoever does win that match, will have survived. But survival does not mean living, it means barely walking out, alive. Whoever wins, will be beaten, they will be bloody, they will have lifelong scars and they will be taking years off their lives.

Child - See, you're gonna lose, even you admit it!

Wild Willey - Like I said kid, i'm not in the match to win it. If anything, winning that title, is a slap in my face. If I happen to pin someone, you can be damn sure, it was an accident. Because I don't want to pin anyone, pinning them means I have to stop fighting, means I have to stop teaching, means the rest of those wrestlers will finally get peace. I want the match to keep going, I want it to never end, I want to keep beating the crap out of them until they learn, that I am the True Outlaw, and how to be a better wrestler.

Child - You wan to kill them?

Wild Willey - No, I never said that. I want to teach them. I want them to value every breathe they take. I'm not in the match until that final 1,2,3 pinfall, i'm in that match to create 3,2... the count of breathes before they reach there last breathes. I intend to take each of them all the way up to the end of their lives, so they know what it feels like to give 100%, to give absolutely everything into the match. To teach each of them, that if they don't have what it takes, than they shouldn't be in my ring.

Wild Willey starts to walk away from the child, then turns around and look at the kid.

Wild Willey - Pay attention kid, because while i'm not rainbows, unicorns and happy smiles. You'll learn more from watching me than you will every learn from those so called "wrestlers".

Wild Willey points to the kids father

Wild Willey - And you'll learn more from me in 5 minutes, than your precious daddy will teach you in a lifetime.

Wild Wiley walks away as the kid stares in disbelief

The room is nearly pitch black. A single lightbulb hangs from a wire above, flickering with a faint electric buzz. Dust floats through the beam of light. Footsteps echo softly.

Three figures slowly emerge from the darkness.

Maxx Vile steps forward first — tall, composed, a cruel smile curling across his face. Behind him, two silhouettes linger just outside the light: Maxxine Vile and Daemon Vile.

Maxx folds his hands together, tilting his head as the bulb flickers again.

Maxx Vile:
Ah… there it is. The hum of electricity… the tremble in the dark… the anticipation.

He chuckles softly.

The Interstate Championship Battle Rumble… what a delightful little slaughterhouse KØЯ∃ Wrestling Company has prepared for us.

Daemon slowly steps halfway into the light. His expression is cold, eager.

But the most important part of this entire spectacle… is not the championship.

Maxx glances at Daemon with a proud, almost predatory grin.

No.

It's the lesson my son is about to teach.

Maxxine steps briefly into the light, arms folded, watching the camera with quiet menace.

Maxxine Vile:
They're not ready for him.

She fades slightly back into shadow again.

Maxx Vile:
No… they truly aren't.

Now let us examine the unfortunate souls who have volunteered themselves for Daemon's education.

He begins pacing slowly beneath the flickering bulb.

Mason Hurst.

A big man. A proud man. A man who believes strength alone will carry him through chaos.

Maxx smirks.

Strength is wonderful… until the lights go out and someone smarter is standing behind you.

The bulb flickers harder.

Then we have Adam Stryker. Dangerous… unpredictable… a man who thinks violence is an art form.

Maxx leans slightly toward the camera.

My son was raised in violence.

Daemon steps fully into the light now, cracking his neck slowly.

Daemon Vile:
I hope Stryker lasts long enough to disappoint me.

He steps back into shadow.

Maxx Vile:
Then we have the carnival attractions…

He counts on his fingers mockingly.

Wild Willey.
Rockin' Lunatic.

Maxx shakes his head, amused.

Clowns who believe chaos is their ally.

But chaos… belongs to the Vile family.

Maxxine steps forward again.

Maxxine Vile:
They're noise.

She taps the hanging bulb lightly. It sways.

Noise that gets silenced.

She disappears into the dark again.

Maxx Vile:
Ahh but the rumble is international tonight.

Hector Venegas.
El Halcón Azul.

Warriors. Fighters with pride. Men who fight for honor.

Maxx smiles coldly.

Honor is such a fragile thing when it's choking on blood.

He slowly raises one finger.

Then there's Kofi Von Erich. Legacy. History. Tradition.

And history… loves repeating itself.

Especially when it ends in tragedy.

The light flickers violently for a moment.

And the hopefuls.

TJ Alexander.
Ace Sky.

Young men chasing glory.

Maxx whispers.

Glory doesn't live in battle rumbles.

Only survivors do.

He tilts his head.

And finally…

He smiles wider.

Sarah-Jane.

Oopsy Daisy.

He chuckles darkly.

A rumble filled with warriors, lunatics, daredevils… and even a few brave women ready to fight.

Good.

That means there will be no excuses when Daemon crushes them all the same.

Daemon steps forward again, fully illuminated now. The bulb flickers wildly.

Daemon Vile:
Twenty bodies.

One ring.

One champion.

He cracks his knuckles slowly.

And a lot of screaming.

Maxx steps beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Maxx Vile:
You see… the KØЯ∃ Interstate Championship isn't being defended tonight.

He leans closer to the camera.

It's being claimed.

By something far worse than a wrestler.

Maxxine appears behind them both, barely visible.

A family.

Maxx spreads his arms slightly.

And when the rumble ends…
when bodies are draped over the ropes…
when the crowd finally understands what they've unleashed…

His smile turns sadistic.

The world will hear three words echo through that arena.

Daemon looks straight ahead.

Daemon Vile:
Vile.

Maxxine Vile:
Family.

Maxx Vile:
Victory.

The lightbulb pops.

Darkness.

The scene opens up in the von erich household where kofi is hanging with the world elite and black list mafia.

Kofi pauses and looks at the camera.

So i see here at the ppv i get a chance to bring even more gold to the blm and world elite.

I have seen what everyone has to say and i have this to say. I am a von erich and i will do things my way.

Kofi pauses and sips some water.

Now that just happens to be the black list mafia way and you see i was tired of being overlooked by management.

So now i get to go into a battle royal and kick other peoples asses and throw them over the top rope and when its said and done i will be the interstate champ.

Kofi pauses and walks off.

But that's not all tonight begins the rise of world elite and the blm.

Kofi walks off as the scene fades to black.