Raw Results
03/17/2025
St. Patrick’s Day
State of the WWE Address 🌟
[The arena lights dim slightly, and “The Game” by Motörhead blasts through the speakers. Triple H strides down the ramp in a sharp suit, the crowd giving a mixed reaction of cheers and anticipation. He steps into the ring, microphone in hand, as the WWE logo glows on the titantron behind him.]
Triple H:
“Ladies and gentlemen… welcome to Monday Night Raw!”
(The crowd pops.)
“Now, I came out here tonight not to sugarcoat anything, but to address the current state of WWE — where we are, and where we’re going. And as much as I’d like to start on a high note… we’ve got some business to take care of first.”
“Let’s talk about R-Truth.”
(A buzz rolls through the crowd.)
“R-Truth was scheduled for a World Title opportunity tonight. He earned that shot, no doubt about it. But here’s the problem — he’s a no-show. And I’m not talking about getting stuck in traffic, or his flight being delayed. I’m talking… radio silence.”
“R-Truth, as much as I respect everything you’ve done, this is a business. You don’t show up? You lose your opportunity. Plain and simple.”
(The crowd reacts, a mix of boos and disappointment.)
“Now that that’s out of the way… let’s talk about the future. Let’s talk about something bigger than one man. Let’s talk about something bigger than WWE itself.”
(Triple H paces for a moment, then leans on the ropes, looking straight into the hard cam.)
“WWE is the global standard for professional wrestling. But wrestling… wrestling has evolved. The industry has grown. And whether people like it or not, AEW has proven they’re here to stay.”
(The crowd cheers at the AEW mention — some boo.)
“So… instead of pretending this isn’t happening, instead of fighting a war that divides the industry… I made a phone call.”
(A stunned murmur spreads through the crowd.)
“We agreed — it’s time to do something that’s never been done before. No invasions, no sneak attacks, no smoke and mirrors. For the first time in history, we are in talks to create an interpromotional championship. One title. One champion. Across two companies.”
(The crowd roars, half in shock, half in excitement.)
“The best of WWE. The best of AEW. No politics, no ego — just the best wrestlers in the world proving who really is the best.”
(Triple H’s expression hardens.)
“This isn’t about tearing each other down anymore. It’s about building something that lasts. This is about the fans. This is about the future of pro wrestling. And trust me when I say this… the future has never looked brighter.”
[Triple H stands in the ring, the crowd still buzzing from his bombshell announcement about the WWE and AEW interpromotional championship. He paces slowly, letting the noise die down before bringing the microphone back to his lips.]
Triple H:
“You know… when I first stepped into this role — when I became the guy behind the curtain, making decisions — I thought the only way forward was to build something new. To look ahead and never look back. But over time… I learned that’s not how this business works.”
“Wrestling is built on history. It’s built on the moments we never forget. And to ignore that history? That’s a mistake I refuse to make.”
“Because this industry isn’t just about WWE, AEW, or any one company. It’s about the whole damn thing — the legacies that got us here.”
(The crowd cheers in agreement.)
“I’m talking about legends like Jesse ‘The Body’ Ventura and Arn Anderson, two of the toughest guys to ever lace up a pair of boots — their rivalry still talked about to this day. I’m talking about the brutal wars between Slammu and Splinter, two icons that redefined what wrestling could be. And who could forget the unforgettable battles of Blaster vs Mickey — two men who brought a level passion to that ring that inspired an entire generation of wrestlers to follow in their footsteps?”
(The crowd cheers louder, appreciating the callback to old-school feuds.)
“And now? Now we find ourselves writing a new chapter. A new history.”
“The WWE of today is standing tall — but not because of me. It’s because of the men and women who bleed for this company every week. From top to bottom, we’ve got a roster full of history-makers in the making.”
“You look at Damian and The Final Judgment — a group that took the idea of dominance and reshaped it in their image. Love them or hate them…. and let’s not forget about William Zabka — a man who, at first, people laughed at, thought he didn’t belong here. But now? He held the Intercontinental Championship and turned that title into what it was always meant to be — a workhorse title. A title that means something to our business.”
(The crowd pops at the mention of Zabka.)
“Then you’ve got Jesse and Brock Anderson — the son of a legend, carrying the weight of his family name while carving his own path. A man who are proved that he was not just living in his fathers’ shadow.”
“And how could I stand here and not talk about the man who sits at the very top? The man who came to WWE to remind the world that he is — and always will be — The Great One… The Rock.”
(The crowd explodes with cheers, chanting “Rocky! Rocky!”)
“The Rock isn’t just the WWE Champion — he’s a living, breathing piece of history. He is WWE! His current reign? It’s something we’ll be talking about for decades to come. He’s taken on everyone who’s dared to step up, and he’s proven why he’s the most electrifying man in sports entertainment.”
(Triple H pauses, letting the crowd’s chants settle before continuing.)
“So, what’s next? What happens now? With this new partnership… with WWE and AEW working together, we’re not just writing the next chapter — we’re writing a whole new book. A book filled with new rivalries, new champions, and new icons.”
“And one day, when people look back at this era — at this moment — they won’t just see WWE. They won’t just see AEW. They’ll see a wrestling world united. They’ll see a generation that wasn’t afraid to step out of the shadow of the past while still honoring everything that came before it.”
“The future’s coming faster than anyone expects. The only question is… who’s ready to grab it?”
*The crowd roar at a fever pitch*
Triple H:
“And you want to talk about the future? You can’t talk about the future without talking about ULW — one of the best developmental brands in the world today. I’ve watched what they’re doing over there. I’ve watched the passion, the hunger, the fire of those men and women coming through the ranks. That’s the next generation, right there. One day…they may even secure a contract with a major wrestling promotion!”
“And you can’t talk about ULW without talking about The Triad.”
(A rumble of cheers and boos from the crowd.)
“Yeah… I know their reputation. I know what they have done to children and the Diddy parties. I know they do things their own way — and they don’t care who they piss off along the way. But you know what? I almost respect them. Because whether you like them or not, they get results. And in this business… results are everything.”
(Triple H nods, pacing a little.)
“And now? Now we find ourselves writing a brand-new chapter. A new history. One that includes the best of WWE, AEW, and the developmental talent of ULW, and the entire wrestling world.”
(Triple H pauses, so what happens now? With this new partnership — with WWE and AEW working together, with ULW continuing to push the next generation of stars — what comes next? It’s simple: we’re not just writing the next chapter of professional wrestling… we’re writing a whole new book.”
“One day, when people look back at this era — at this moment — they won’t just see WWE. They won’t just see AEW or ULW. They’ll see a wrestling world united. They’ll see a generation that wasn’t afraid to respect the past while building the future.”
“Also, I have reinstated the United States Championship to Smackdown with Flex Fuller continuing his reign as champion!”
“Oh…and one more thing…Are ya ready? I said…Are. You. Reeeaaadddyyy?!”
*The crowd explodes into cheers as we head to commercial*
AJ Styles vs. Erik 🌟
Entrances:
Erik stomps to the ring with intensity, his Viking aesthetic on full display. He pounds his chest, roaring to the crowd.
AJ Styles’ music hits, and the crowd erupts. He emerges, arms spread wide in his signature pose, exuding confidence.
The bell rings. They circle each other cautiously before locking up. Erik’s strength wins out, shoving AJ to the mat. AJ smirks, nodding, acknowledging Erik’s power.
They lock up again. AJ slips behind, attempting a waist lock, but Erik powers out, throwing AJ Styles.
Erik charges, but AJ ducks under and fires off quick calf kicks, targeting Erik’s legs to cut down his base.
Erik catches a kick, spinning AJ around and leveling him with a huge lariat that flips AJ inside out. He covers — 1… 2… kickout!
Erik dominates for a stretch, tossing AJ around with brutal slams — a gutwrench suplex, followed by a sidewalk slam.
Erik hoists AJ up for a powerbomb, but AJ flips through, landing on his feet. He counters with a Pele Kick that staggers Erik!
AJ sees his opening. He hits a Phenomenal Blitz (strikes combo), knocking Erik into the corner.
He charges for a corner clothesline, but Erik explodes out with a running knee, flooring AJ! Cover — 1… 2… kickout!
Erik goes for a Death Row (spinning knee), but AJ dodges, springboarding off the ropes and hitting a springboard forearm!
AJ lifts Erik, looking for the Styles Clash — but Erik powers out, flipping AJ over his back. AJ lands on his feet, rebounds off the ropes, and gets caught with a pop-up powerslam! 1… 2… kickout!
Erik signals for his spinning powerslam finisher — he hoists AJ up, but AJ counters mid-air into a hurricanrana, sending Erik headfirst into the turnbuckle!
AJ scrambles to the apron, setting up for the Phenomenal Forearm. He leaps — but Erik ducks! AJ rolls through on the landing, dodges a charging Erik, and nails him with the Pele Kick again!
AJ, sensing the end, hooks Erik’s arms for the Styles Clash. Erik fights it off, powering up to a vertical base.
Erik lifts AJ for a powerbomb — but AJ counters into a mid-air Frankensteiner, flipping Erik into the mat!
AJ wastes no time. He scrambles to the apron, measures Erik, and hits a picture-perfect Phenomenal Forearm!
1… 2… 3!
Winner: AJ Styles
AJ celebrates as the crowd cheers. Erik sits up, visibly frustrated but nods in reluctant respect. AJ offers a hand. Erik hesitates but accepts it. The two share a brief, respectful nod before Erik exits the ring, leaving AJ to soak in the adulation.
Backstage 🌟
John Cena:
“You know, it’s funny — what people say when it comes to John Cena. You talk about AJ Styles like he’s some underdog hero, scraping and clawing his way to the top. But let’s set the record straight. AJ didn’t climb the ladder — he took the stairs one by one while I carried the damn building on my back.”
“You wanna talk about my time in LWF? UWA? HCW? Like that’s some big revelation? I’m not ashamed of where I came from — because every setback, every so-called ‘midcard run’ made me hungrier, made me smarter, made me better. While AJ was too busy racking up meaningless titles in bingo halls, I was busy learning what it really takes to be the guy. Not just a standard bearer — the whole damn standard.”
“They say I’ve never won world championships? Cute. Championships don’t make the man — the man makes the championship. And while AJ was playing king of the Indy jungle, I was out here building an empire. You think EWA found him? Nah. I made this industry so hot, promotions started scrambling to find someone — anyone — who could be the ‘anti-Cena.’ Styles wasn’t discovered — he was drafted as a consolation prize because nobody could measure up to me.”
“And now here I am, still standing, still stealing the spotlight, because that’s what legends do. AJ Styles is a phenomenal talent — but I’m a once-in-a-lifetime force. He can have his little belts, his Indie darling sob story, and his fans. I don’t need the people. I don’t need the gold. I am the top of the mountain — and AJ Styles? He’s still trying to climb it.”
Cena lowers the mic, glares into the camera, and sneers.
“The champ may not be here…yet— but the king sure as hell is.”
Mic drop.
John Cena vs. Ivar 🌟
Entrances:
The lights dim as the crowd erupts into a mixed chorus of cheers and “Let’s Go Cena / Cena Sucks” chants. The iconic riff of “My Time Is Now” blares through the speakers. John Cena bursts onto the stage, hyped and full of energy, saluting the crowd before sprinting down the ramp. He slides into the ring, throwing his hat into the crowd and flashing his classic “Never Give Up” towel.
The mood shifts as war drums echo through the arena. Ivar emerges, roaring with intensity. He marches to the ring, slapping his chest and staring daggers at Cena. The crowd pops for Ivar’s presence — a dominant, agile big man who’s earned their respect.
The bell rings. Cena and Ivar circle each other, the crowd still buzzing.
Lock-up: Ivar immediately uses his power advantage, shoving Cena halfway across the ring. Cena looks impressed, nodding with a smirk. They lock up again — this time Cena ducks behind for a waist lock, but Ivar breaks free and floors Cena with a thunderous shoulder tackle.
Cena pops back up, only to be met with a spinning heel kick from Ivar — showing off his incredible agility. Cena rolls to the outside, regrouping while Ivar stands tall, hyping the crowd.
Cena returns to the ring cautiously. He fakes a lock-up and goes for a side headlock. Ivar shoves him off into the ropes, Cena ducks a clothesline and hits a flying shoulder block — but Ivar barely budges!
Cena tries again — another shoulder block, but Ivar still stands strong. On the third attempt, Ivar catches Cena mid-air and plants him with a spinning powerslam! The crowd gasps as Ivar covers:
1… 2… kickout!
Ivar stays on the attack, lifting Cena and driving him into the corner with a series of body shots. He steps back and charges for a corner splash — but Cena dives out of the way! Ivar crashes into the turnbuckle.
Cena seizes the moment, hitting his signature “Throwback” bulldog. He lifts Ivar for a suplex — struggling at first against Ivar’s weight — but powers through and slams him down! Cena goes for the pin:
1… 2… Ivar powers out!
Cena starts firing up, landing his signature shoulder tackles. He ducks Ivar’s wild clothesline and nails his spinning back suplex. The crowd knows what’s coming.
Cena looks to the crowd, smirks, and raises his hand.
“YOU CAN’T SEE ME!”
He bounces off the ropes and hits the Five Knuckle Shuffle right to Ivar’s forehead.
Cena goes for the Attitude Adjustment — but Ivar is too heavy! Ivar elbows his way out, then hoists Cena up instead, spinning him around into a Sit-Out Powerbomb!
1… 2… Cena kicks out!
Ivar looks to finish it. He drags Cena near the corner and climbs to the top rope, the crowd on their feet.
He stands tall, setting up his Viking Splash. The crowd holds their breath…
Ivar leaps — but Cena rolls out of the way! Ivar crashes to the mat, clutching his ribs.
Cena pops up, adrenaline surging. He lifts Ivar onto his shoulders, straining under the weight. The crowd roars in anticipation.
Cena, wobbling slightly, steadies himself and hits the Attitude Adjustment — but Ivar bounces off the mat, dazed but not down!
Cena looks stunned for a moment, then wastes no time. He locks in the STF, pulling back on Ivar’s neck!
Ivar crawls toward the ropes, his arm shaking, but Cena wrenches back harder.
Ivar roars in defiance, trying to power out… but the pain is too much. He taps.
Winner: John Cena via submission (STF)
Post-match:
Cena stands tall, exhausted but victorious. He helps Ivar to his feet and offers a handshake. Ivar hesitates, then accepts, earning another roar from the crowd. Cena raises Ivar’s arm in a show of respect but then lifts him up an Attitude Adjustment!
The camera fades with Cena standing on the turnbuckle, soaking in the crowd’s energy, while Ivar lays in the background — a warrior who came up short but still won the fans’ admiration.
Hotel 🏨 🌟
[Scene opens inside a slightly disheveled hotel room. Chad Gable sits on the edge of the bed, still sweaty from a workout, wearing a brightly colored luchador mask. His tank top says “SHOOSH! ELITE EDITION.” He’s scrolling through his phone, breathing heavily.]
Chad Gable:
(sighs) “Man… nothing hits like a post-workout pump. But I need some ice for my knee. Doc! Hey Doc Brown — can you run down the hall and grab some ice?”
[From the bathroom, Doc Brown bursts out, wild-haired and frantic as always.]
Doc Brown:
“ICE? Ice! Yes, yes, of course! By my calculations, that should take approximately 1 minute and 21 seconds!”
Chad Gable:
“Cool, thanks. But like… regular ice, not some time-travel ice from the Jurassic period or something. My knee doesn’t need dinosaur DNA.”
Doc Brown:
“Yes, yes! Regular ice! Got it! Great Scott, I’m on it!”
(Doc rushes out of the room, his lab coat billowing behind him.)
[A minute later, the door BURSTS open. But instead of Doc Brown, two stern-looking agents in suits march in.]
Agent 1:
“Chad Gable? You’re coming with us.”
Chad Gable:
(stands up, confused) “What? Why? I didn’t even steal the minibar snacks this time!”
Agent 2:
“You asked for I.C.E., right? Immigration and Customs Enforcement. Someone reported an unregistered luchador in this room.”
Chad Gable:
“WHAT?! No, I meant like… COLD ice! The frozen kind! For my knee! It’s swollen, not illegal!”
[The agents shake their heads, cuff Gable, and start dragging him away.]
Chad Gable:
“Doc! DOOOOOC! Help! Tell them I’m American Alpha, not Mexican Alpha!”
[Doc Brown reappears, holding a vending machine soda and a crushed bag of ice.]
Doc Brown:
“Oh no… oh dear… this isn’t what I meant! I misunderstood the request! I thought… I thought we were dealing with the multiverse of cooling agents!”
[He watches helplessly as Gable is hauled off, still yelling about his knee.]
Chad Gable:
“I swear, if Otis doesn’t bail me out, I’m putting him on a juice cleanse!”
[Doc Brown sighs, defeated. He turns back toward the room, when he notices something gleaming on the bed: the Intercontinental Championship.]
Doc Brown:
(eyes widen in shock, slowly picking it up)
“…Great Scott!”
[He looks around nervously, then cradles the belt like it’s a newborn baby.]
Doc Brown:
“If my calculations are correct… I might be the champion now.”
[The screen fades to black with the sound of Gable still faintly shouting from down the hall.]
World Of Wrestling: Murrey Universe 