Live from the Resch Center | Green Bay, WI | Crowd Size: 11,404
SEGMENT ONE
Last Week:
Minutes after Dynamite went off the air on Columbus Day, Bobby Lashley storms through the curtain at the gorilla position, drenched in sweat. His chest is heaving and his eyes are wild, as crew members scatter like flies as he rips the tape off his wrists and tosses it across the room.
Bobby Lashley: [yelling] He cost me the fucking title!
He kicks over a chair, sending a set of headsets and papers flying. MVP rushes through the curtain in behind him, his arms stretched outwards as he tries to de-escalate the Almighty’s rage.
MVP: Bobby! Bobby, listen to me, brother! It’s not worth it, we’ll handle it!
Lashley grabs the edge of the production table and flips it clean over, expensive monitors crashing to the floor. He turns to MVP, seething.
Bobby Lashley: Handle it? HANDLE IT? I HAD HIM BEAT, AND THAT LITTLE WEASEL STUCK HIS NOSE WHERE IT DIDN’T BELONG.
MVP tries to talk him down as MJF steps cautiously into the frame, his hands up in a defensive position.
MJF: Whoa, whoa, big man! Just relax, alright? We clearly had a misunderstanding. I was just trying to help. You know, like how I helped you beat Cody Rhodes at All Out? I’ve held up my end of the deal—
Before MJF can finish his sentence, Lashley charges, grabbing him by the shoulders and slamming him up against the concrete wall with a thud. Crew members shout desperately for security.
MVP: [shouting] Bobby! Bobby, stop it, dammit!
Lashley’s nostrils flare as he puts his face inches from MJF’s, holding him against the wall.
Bobby Lashley: Does it look like you helped me? You cost me!
MJF struggles with nowhere to go, his face twisting between panic and indignation.
MJF: Are you outta your mind? It was an accident! I was trying to make sure you won! You think I wanted—
Before it can escalate further, Shelton Benjamin and The Acclaimed rush into gorilla and pry Lashley off. MVP stands between them.
MVP: That’s enough! That’s enough, damn it! You’re gonna blow this whole thing up, Bobby!
Lashley is still seething as the Hurt Syndicate holds him back. MJF straights up, fixing his hair with trembling hands.
MJF: [furious] You know what? Fine! You wanna act like an animal, go ahead. But don’t say I didn’t hold up my end.
MVP cuts him off, pointing in MJF’s face.
MVP: You need to get the hell out of here, right now. We can only hold him back for so long, you hear me?
MJF glares at Lashley, then MVP, brushing himself off.
MJF: When he’s calmed down, when he’s thinking like an adult again, we’ll talk. But until then? Keep your boy in check.
MJF storms off, leaving Lashley breathing hard in the Hurt Syndicate’s grip, his veins bulging as they hold him back.
The shot fades to black, before switching to a live shot of a sleek SUV pulling up to the talent entrance.
The door swings open, and Lashley steps out, dressed in a sharp suit, dark sunglasses, and his expression cold. MVP steps out the other side, a duffel bag over his shoulder. Noticeably absent is the AEW World Heavyweight Championship.
They approach the entrance, but as they get there they’re met by BWM Inc.’s Head of Security, Big Boss Man. Boss Man isn’t alone, as a sea of at least 20 security guards stand behind him neatly in formation.
Big Boss Man: [sternly] Evening, gentlemen. I’m afraid I can’t let you in tonight.
MVP: [in disbelief] What the hell are you talking about?
Big Boss Man: Apologies, but these orders came from Mr. Mouse himself. After what happened last week, Bobby’s been barred from the arena tonight. Benny said he needs more time to cool off after the property damage and physical altercation last week in the gorilla position as Dynamite went off the air. Benny said he’s a liability.
Bobby Lashley: [coldly] Did MJF put you up to this?
Big Boss Man: [shaking his head] MJF isn’t even here tonight.
Lashley steps forward, surveying the sea of security guards.
Bobby Lashley: [to Boss Man] Get out of my way.
Lashley starts to push back, but the security guards immediately close ranks around him. Boss Man’s hand goes to his baton.
Big Boss Man: I’m going to need you to think about what you’re doing here.
MVP steps in, placing his hand on Lashley’s chest
MVP: Come on, Bobby. Let’s go. It’s not worth getting suspended.
Lashley stares down Boss Man, his nostrils flaring. He finally takes a step back.. He adjusts his sunglasses and gives Boss Man a small, bitter smirk.
Bobby Lashley: This isn’t over.
He turns back toward the SUV as MVP pats his shoulder. The camera lingers on Boss Man’s uneasy face before cutting to the show’s opening video.
As the opening video airs and the pyro explodes, Arn Anderson and Kevin Kelly welcome us back to Dynamite, one week out from the mid-season finale, Sympathy for the Devil. Before they can even run down tonight’s card, they’re interrupted as the lights dim, and the crowd murmurs as a spotlight falls on the stage.
Paul Heyman: Ladies and gentlemen…
Heyman slowly steps through the tunnel, clutching a microphone. His trademark smirk creeps across his face as the crowd’s reaction swells.
Paul Heyman: My name is Paul Heyman. And I am the advocate for your REIGNING… DEFENDING… UNDISPUTED AEW World Heavyweight Champion, The Kinslayer Sean Olson!
Heyman slowly creeps towards the ring as he continues.
Paul Heyman: Say what you want about Mr. Olson, but there’s no denying the fact that he is a man of conviction. A man of truth. And more importantly, a man of his word!
As Heyman steps through the ring ropes, the crowd boos.
Paul Heyman: In August, he said to his half-brother Brandon Lee, ‘I will leave you broken, and I will leave you forgotten.’
The boos reach a crescendo, as Heyman waits for them to stop before continuing.
Paul Heyman: And when that dust settled, when the echoes of twenty years of blood, frustration, and heartbreak settled, Sean Olson kept his promise.
Paul Heyman takes a beat, before continuing.
Paul Heyman: And then, just weeks ago when he came to me and sought my representation, he said he had another world title run in him. The skeptics laughed, and the critics rolled their eyes! But in record time, Sean Olson stood tall once again, when he slayed the Almighty Bobby Lashley to become the heavyweight champion of the world!
Paul Heyman: I admit, I was skeptical to represent Mr. Olson, but that was not because I doubted him. It’s because I knew how dangerous he could be. I knew that Sean Olson doesn’t make promises he doesn’t intend to keep. He delivers prophecy, and turns it into history!
Paul Heyman: That is why I stand before you to ask that your rise… RISE and bear witness to the champion who burned it all down and rebuilt it in his image… The slayer of kin, beasts, and legacies… YOUR AEW World Heavyweight Champion… SEAN OLSON!
“Hysteria” by Muse hits, and the lights dim as six masked attendants, dressed in black and cold, step through the tunnel, carrying a royal carriage draped in crimson. Atop a throne, Olson sits defiantly, the belt wrapped tightly around his waist.
Heyman watches on smugly as Olson is literally carried down the ramp on the carriage, and placed in front of the ring. Heyman holds the ropes open as he steps through, taking the microphone from Heyman and standing in the center of the ring until the crowd quiets.
Sean Olson: Do you know what it’s like to wait your whole damn career for opportunities that were never meant for you? To sit in locker rooms with guys like Dragonfly, AJ Styles, and Randy Orton. Guys that were constantly handed every spotlight, every main event slot, because they were the safe bet. The poster boys.
Sean Olson: But I still showed up, each and every night. Every city. I delivered. I gave everything to this business, yet somehow, the cycle always reset. I’d climb the mountain, I’d reach the top, but before I could even plant my flag, someone else’s anthem was already playing…
He paces in the ring, his tone hardening.
Sean Olson: This summer, I was a last round draft pick. When I got here in July, I watched as the cycle tried its damndest to repeat. Cody Rhodes gets another redemption arc… Will Ospreay another comeback story… and I see the pattern repeat itself. The golden boys never stop getting their chances, while I’m forced to EARN mine from the dirt every single time.
As Olson airs his grievances, Heyman nods along.
Sean Olson: But, here’s the truth… there isn’t a man in this company… hell, even in this industry, who has aged like I have. With every day that passes, I am more relevant. Most stars fade, but I’m not slowing down. And I’m not living off my past. I am building my legacy day by day, brick by brick.
Sean Olson: This… [he taps the AEW World Heavyweight Championship around his waist] isn’t luck. It’s another promise kept. I am having the best year of my career, and still, the praise… the attention, the hype… it all goes to ghosts. Brandon Lee played his little “Forgotten” act and people called it art. You know what I did? I buried his story, and I put The Forgotten to rest myself! I slayed my own flesh and blood!
Olson looks straight into the hard camera.
Sean Olson: And then, I slayed The Almighty. I stand before you as your AEW World Heavyweight Champion not because I was chosen, or because the machine decided to back me. I am the champion because I promised I would be, and I saw my shot and I took it. I’ve only been here for three months, and I’ve completely reinvented myself!
Sean Olson: And next week, at Sympathy for the Devil, when I meet the Aerial Assassin Will Ospreay, this story will not end with another golden boy’s coronation. It will end, once again, with me proving that I am exactly who I’ve always said I am… the man who survives every era, outlasts every name, and slays every false idol put in front of me!
“Elevated” hits and heads turn in unison towards the tunnel, where Will Ospreay walks out with fire in his eyes, and a microphone already in his hand.
Will Ospreay: You call me the golden boy, yeah? You think I’ve had it easy? You think any of this was given to me? Mate, I wasn’t born into privilege. I wasn’t some handpicked prodigy.
Will Ospreay: I grew up on the mean streets of Essex, where your reputation was the only thing that kept you breathing. My mum — God bless her — did the best she could, but there were nights when the lights went out, and the cupboards were empty. And she still told me, ‘Will, you keep fighting. You fall, you get up, and you fight harder.’
He starts pacing the stage, emotion breaking through his voice.
Will Ospreay: That’s what I’ve done every single day of my life. Every time I’ve been knocked down, every time someone told me I wasn’t ready, I got back up and I proved them wrong!
Will Ospreay: It wasn’t long ago that the pundits were saying I wasn’t ready to be AEW World Champion. Said I didn’t have the experience. Said I hadn’t earned it. Then I sat down with Chris Hyatte and I told the world exactly who I am — what I’ve been through — and suddenly, the same people who counted me out started saying, ‘Maybe Ospreay is the guy.’
He points directly at Olson in the ring.
Will Ospreay: And next week, 14 months after my first match on American television, I’m going to prove that every sacrifice, every bump, every flight, every moment away from my family… it was worth it.
Will Ospreay: You call me the golden boy because this company paid good money to bring me here early? To break the rules of the World of Wrestling just to get me here a year ahead of schedule? Do you think that was because I was their chosen face? I call bullshit. It was because the people in charge saw what I already know… from the bingo halls in Europe to the coliseums in Japan, I’ve proven everywhere I’ve gone that I am the best god damn professional wrestler on the planet!
Will Ospreay: Within a year, I was main eventing Starrcade, atop the card that you weren’t even invited to! Proving that I belong here. Go back and check the record, Sean. Three. That’s how many times I’ve been pinned in 14 months. And yeah, maybe I’m a little rough around the edges. Maybe I talk with my chest and get too emotional sometimes, but that’s only because what’s wrapped around your waist means EVERYTHING to me. And next week, when I pin your shoulders to the mat, and that bell rings, everything I’ve given to this business — the broken bones, the travel, the sacrifice — it’s all going to be worth it.
Ospreay drops the microphone on the stage, and it echos as it hits the metal. The crowd is revved up as Elevated plays once more, and the scene concludes with Ospreay and Olson in an intense staredown.
Match #1 | AEW Television Championship Open Invitational
Logan Paul (C) vs. ???
As Logan Paul makes his introduction, Arn Anderson says that at All Out, Logan Paul became only the second man in AEW history to have won both the World and TV titles; the only other man to do so previously was MJF. Kevin Kelly says Paul ended the three-month undefeated streak of the former champion, LA Knight, before taking to social media to announce the Open Invitational for the belt.
Kevin Kelly: Logan Paul says he’s going to be a defending Television Champion, and last night on X he posted that he’s ready for anyone. But the question remains, Arn, who’s it gonna be?
Arn Anderson: Look, Logan Paul has guts. Earlier tonight, Ospreay mentioned he’d only been pinned three times. One of those defeats came at the hands of Logan Paul. As much as people want to clown on Logan, and I admit, he’s unlikeable, but he’s also one of the best wrestlers on the planet. He talks shit, but he backs it up.
As Logan waits for his opponent in the ring, his confidence seems to fade as a familiar theme hits, and the crowd goes wild as Kurt Angle steps out the tunnel! Paul’s smug expression drops immediately.
Kevin Kelly: Are you kidding me? The man who won the Olympic Gold Medal with a broken freakin’ neck! Kurt Angle! He’s answering the challenge!
Arn Anderson: Well, Logan’s always chasing those viral moments, and son, looks like you just got another one! There’s been a lot of talk since the World of Wrestling Draft about the relationship between WWE and AEW, and if the talent exchange program hyped last season would still continue among risings tensions between the company. It looks like we just got our answer in the former PWI champion Kurt Angle!
Angle steps into the ring as the crowd lovingly showers Angle in the “You suck!” chants. Logan tries to shake off any signs about being nervous, but as the bell sounds, Angle immediately rushes him, backing him into the corner with stiff forearms.
He launches Logan Paul with an overhead belly to belly that sends the champion sprawling across the ring! Angle pops back to his feet, his eyes locked on Paul as he yells, “Come on, kid!”
Kevin Kelly: Kurt Angle is wasting no time bringing the fight to Logan Paul! Somehow, after all these years, this man still wrestles like he did in his prime!
Paul staggers up, throwing wild punches, catching Angle with a quick jab to the gut and a spinning forearm. Logan hits a leaping clothesline that knocks Angle down. He follows with body punches and a high boot to the temple for two.
His confidence building, Paul takes a beat to pose of Angle on the mat, flexing his biceps.
Arn Anderson: If you ask me, that’s the behavior that is going to hold Logan Paul back. He’s got all the tools, but then he starts showboatin’ instead of following through!
Paul whips angle into the corner and hits a running uppercut. He follows it up with a blockbuster, before transitioning into another pin attempt.
1…
2…
Angle kicks out.
Paul muscles Angle into a delayed vertical suplex, showing off his strength before dropping him hard to the mat.
Paul locks on a chinlock, as he screams, “You’re old news, Kurt.” The crowd begins a “Let’s go, Angle!” chant as the Olympic Gold Medalist fights his way to his feet, catching Paul in the gut with elbow strikes. Paul cuts off his rally attempt with a gut wrench suplex, as he covers him once more.
1…
2…
Angle kicks out once more!
Kevin Kelly: Logan Paul’s offense continues to evolve week after week. That gut wrench suplex was executed perfectly.
Arn Anderson: True, but he’s in there with an Olympic Gold Medalist. I question the strategy behind trying to out wrestle a guy like Kurt Angle. You can’t just wear him down, his stamina is unprecedented!
Logan goes for another uppercut, but this time Kurt sidesteps it and catches him with a German suplex. He rolls through, immediately firing off another one, and then a third. He goes for a fourth, but Logan elbows him in the face and hits the ropes, connecting with a spinning jumping uppercut.
Both men are on the mat as junior official Lance Storm begins the count.
Angle is the first to his feet, and as Logan joins him he catches him with a clothesline, followed by a belly to belly. The crowd is on their feet, as Angle rips down his straps.
He goes for the Angle Slam, but Logan lands on his feet. He springboards off the ropes and nails a Buckshot Lariat, and again goes for the cover.
1…
2…
2.999!
Arn Anderson: I thought he had him!
Paul climbs to the top rope, taunting the crowd before positioning himself for a frog splash. He leaps, but Angle gets his knees up! Logan rolls through in pain, clutching his ribs.
Angle pounces, and as soon as Logan stands up he catches him with the Angle Slam!
Kevin Kelly: Angle Slam! Angle Slam! He’s got him!
1…
2…
2.999!
Paul kicks out!
Angle doesn’t appear phased as he immediately transitions into the Ankle Lock! The crowd explodes once more, as Paul scream, clawing towards the ropes. When he’s almost there, Angle drags him back to the center of the ring!
Arn Anderson: You can’t out wrestle Kurt Angle! I keep saying it because Logan clearly needs the reminder!
Paul finally twists to his back, using his long leg to push Angle off of him and into the turnbuckle. Logan gets to his feet, trying to shake off the damages ankle. He catches Angle with a reverse release powerbomb!
1…
2…
Kurt gets the shoulder up!
Back in the center of the ring, both men exchange heavy strikes. Angle fires off another German, but Paul lands on his feet and lands a springboard uppercut.
Kevin Kelly: These two are throwing everything they’ve got at one another!
Paul mimics Angle’s intensity, pulling down imaginary straps, mocking the legend. This earns Paul deafening boos from the crowd.
Paul hoists Angle up, going for an Angle Slam of his own! Angle counters into a rolling German suplex sequence. On the third and final suplex, Paul flips through mid-air and again lands on his feet. He lifts Angle onto his shoulder and flips through the Finlay roll. He bounces off the ropes and connects with the split-legged leg drop!
He lifts Angle up for the Paulverizer, but Angle shoves him off. Angle Slam! Paul again lands on his feet. He springboards out of the corner and connects with the mule kick!
Paul climbs to the top of the turnbuckle… SWANTON BOMB connects! He immediately gets back up, and connects with a beautiful standing moonsault!
1…
2…
Angle kicks out!
Arn Anderson: How did Angle kick out of that?
Kevin Kelly: That’s the Three I’s at work, Arn! Angle’s integrity, intensity, and… wait, what’s the other stand for?
Angle gets back to his feet, and Paul catches him with the Angle Slam. The crowd boos furiously. He covers him once again.
1…
2…
Angle kicks out!
Paul slams the mat in frustration, yelling at Lance Storm. He drags Angle up and strikes him with the knockout punch!
Instead of covering him, Paul goes back to the top rope. This time, the frog splash connects!
1…
2…
Angle kicks out as the crowd erupts!
Paul, gasping, gets to his feet, eyes wide with disbelief. As Angle gets to his feet, Paul drops him hard with the Paulverizer!
1…
2…
3!!!
Winner and STILL AEW Television Champion: Logan Paul
Match Time: 18:33
Kevin Kelly: What a war! Kurt Angle pushes Logan Paul to his absolute limit, but somehow, Logan Paul walks out with the Television Championship!
Arn Anderson: I’ll give the devil his due, Kevin. That boy’s got talent. He’s got guts. And tonight, he just beat one of the all0time greats.
Paul rolls out of the ring, clutching his title, yelling “I’m the greatest athlete alive!” as Angle kneels in the ring, glaring after him. The crowd chants “You still got it!” at Kurt as the show cuts to commercial break.
SEGMENT TWO
The camera pans through the hazy, incense-filled lounge of High Minded’s clubhouse. Empty rolling papers and a broken bong litter the coffee table. A lava lamp glows dimly beside a flickering neon “High Minded” sign. The mood in the clubhouse, however, is far from mellow.
Hulk Hogan sits on a couch, his head hung low. A feather boa that’s seen better days is wrapped around his neck. Meanwhile, Randy Savage paces the room like a caged animal. Kevin Nash lounges back in a recliner, as Scott Hall twirls a toothpick between his lips.
Hulk Hogan: [sighing] It’s been a rough few weeks, brothers. First Midget Hogan turns his back on us, and then we had that cowardly attack on Lady Love.
Randy Savage: [growling] Oh yeahhhh, that little dude’s got some bad karma comin’ his way, ya dig? How’s Lady Love doin’?
Hulk Hogan: She’s beat up pretty bad. Doctor’s got her on bedrest. She’s probably at home watchin’ old tapes of us, back when things were good.
Kevin Nash sits up, leaning forward.
Kevin Nash: We can’t let this slide. Midget Hogan’s behind all of this shit. He’s the brains behind every bad thing that’s happened to us lately.
Scott Hall: It’s time we knock the little brain outta his head, chico.
Suddenly, the door creaks open, and Matt Riddle steps in, looking dead serious for the first time anyone can remember. His flip-flips slap the floor as he walks in, tension thick in the air.
Hulk Hogan: Brother, where the hell have you been? You missed our group meditation, and our wake ‘n bake session!
Matt Riddle: [nodding] Yeah, bro, I was in Shocker’s office… which, sidenote…. is NOT what I thought a Shocker was. [Riddle holds up the “two in the pink, one in the stink” hand gesture, and everyone groans]
Kevin Nash: [grimacing] Jesus, kid.
Matt Riddle: [shrugs] Anyway, I talked to him, and I got myself a match next week at Sympathy for the Devil. Next week, it’s me versus Jesse Hash!
Everyone sits up, suddenly intrigued.
Matt Riddle: It’s crazy, because under different circumstances, me and Hash coulda been bros. We could’ve shared a spliff, maybe some deep convos about consciousness and stuff… but he hurt my best gal pal, Lady Love. And nobody does that!
Scott Hall: [accidentally snapping his toothpick] That’s the Riddle I like to see, chico!
Kevin Nash: Hell yeah, bro. About time you put down the vape pen and picked up a fight!
Hulk rises to his feet, fiery again.
Hulk Hogan: Then it’s settled, brothers. Next week, Riddle gets redemption for Lady Love… and we start takin’ back what’s ours, dude!
The group erupts in cheers. Savage slaps the table, Hall raises his drink, Nash gives a cool nod.
Matt Riddle: For Lady Love… and for High Minded, bro!
Randy Savage: OHHH YEAHHH, that’s what I’m talkin’ about! Revenge is like a fine strain, baby — best when it’s slow-burned!
The scene ends with the group fired up and determined to avenge Lady Love.
A black and white vignette opens in the Knockouts locker room. The camera drifts past empty locker benches, discarded ring gear, before landing on a single vanity mirror lit by flicking bulbs.
Timeless Toni Storm sits before the mirror in a flowing robe, sipping from a crystal coupe glass as she lets out a long sigh, eyes on her own reflection.
Timeless Toni Storm: Well… this is different, isn’t it? Usually, my little soliloquies are filmed on a soundstage — the soft glow of studio light, the faint hum of a fan to make my hair dance like something out of Gone with the Wind. But tonight, I wanted to be here… because I’ve always been a fan of symbolism. And there is no place more symbolic of my current predicament than this locker room… the very locker room I have led since Memorial Day.
Timeless Toni Storm: Through all the noise, through Jade Cargill’s glittering summer blockbuster, through every press headline and post-match tweet, when the credits rolled, the audience was still talking about me. Because when the rest fade into background extras… Timeless Toni Storm remains the star.
She pauses, looking at herself in the reflection, smirking faintly.
Timeless Toni Storm: When Becky Lynch arrived, I rolled out the red carpet. I wanted to beat The Man. And now she wants to whine, to say she kicked out right at three? This isn’t Rudy. You don’t get credit just for showing up. You got beat. You got outclassed. Roll the film back, play it in slow motion, run it with director’s commentary — the ending doesn’t change.
She stands up from her chair, turning away from the mirror and towards the camera.
Timeless Toni Storm: And then came Jade Cargill. A shiny new thing, all muscles and marketing. She strutted into my picture like a studio’s wet dream. But I built this house, Jade. I headline this feature. I damn sure wasn’t going to let some outsider steal my top billing. I would’ve beaten her, too, had Becky not stuck her Irish nose where it doesn’t belong.
The camera continues to follow her as she walks towards a locker. She pops it open, revealing the AEW Knockouts Championship inside.
Timeless Toni Storm: That’s the thing about the two of you… you’re bloody tourists! You don’t live here. This isn’t your locker room. This isn’t your story. This is my story. My division. My legacy. And if I have to face you both at once, well darling, just name the night and the place. Because I am the best woman’s wrestler alive!
She turns to the camera, her eyes piercing.
Timeless Toni Storm: So Becky, Jade — lace up your boots and get ready for the big finale. You can train all you want, run all the stairs you like, play your little Rocky soundtrack. But when the bell rings, when the curtain rises… I’m the one they paid to see!
Match #2 | Exhibition Match
The Young Bucks vs. Proud & Powerful
The crowd in Green Bay pop for the returning Proud & Powerful, in their first match back since being drafted in June. Those pops turn to boos as the number one contenders, Matt & Nick Jackson, The Young Bucks, are introduced next.
Kevin Kelly: The Young Bucks are only a week removed from that hellacious Ladder War, where they earned the right to challenge the Harlem Turtles for the AEW World Tag Titles. However, Benny Mouse has yet to set a date for that match.
Arn Anderson: It’s clear that in his loyalty to the Turtles, the boss is dragging his feet on purpose. The Bucks are on a hot streak, and Benny’s trying to cool ’em off before they get their shot at gold.
Kevin Kelly: And what better way to do that than with the first-ever AEW tag champs, who also hold the record for longest reign with the belts at 385 days.
Arn Anderson: Santana and Ortiz are as real as they come Street fighters, tough as a two dollar steak!
As the bell sounds, Santana starts things off with Nick Jackson. They circle, lock up, and Santana hits a sharp armdrag takedown straight into an armbar, wrenching the shoulder tight.
Nick kips up, reverses, but Santana transitions seamlessly into another armdrag, popping the crowd. Nick nods in respect, tagging in Matt.
Kevin Kelly: Santana’s got that pitbull intensity, but look at the confidence on Matt Jackson’s face.
Arn Anderson: And why wouldn’t the Bucks be confident? After that speech Kenny Omega gave them last week, we’re witnessing two thirds of what Omega called the true Elite of professional wrestling.
Matt charges, and Ortiz tags in. He catches Matt with a backbreaker! Matt shakes it off, sends Ortiz into the ropes, and nails a dropkick right on the jaw!
Arn Anderson: You’re probably not going to out wrestle the Bucks, but you can damn sure rough ’em up. That’s what Proud & Powerful are doin’ in there.
Santana sneaks back in, kick to the gut, Nick tags himself in — and now both Bucks hit a double dropkick that sends Ortiz tumbling out of the ring!
Back in the ring, Proud & Powerful turn the tide. Ortiz rolls in, and catches Nick off guard with a neckbreaker into a backbreaker combo! Santana follows up with a basement dropkick to Nick’s head!
Ortiz nails a bodyslam on Matt, as Nick rolls out of the way when Ortiz goes for a splash. He fires a superkick right to the jaw! Matt gets the hot tag. He comes in like a rocket, connecting with a right hand to Santana, and a clothesline to Ortiz!
Arn Anderson: The Young Bucks’ chemistry is unrivaled.
Matt hits a hurricanrana, sending Santana sprawling. Ortiz catches him with a kick, but Matt responds with a twisting cutter off the ropes!
He covers…
1…
2…
Kickout!
Nick tags back in, and they go for a tandem slam into a powerbomb, but it only nets the Bucks another two count.
Santana regains control when she shoves Matt, who crashes into Nick! Ortiz sneaks back into the ring and nails Matt with a sitout slam. He drags Matt to the top ropes… Falcon Arrow off the top!
Santana covers…
1…
2…
The Bucks stay alive!
Ortiz locks in a neck crank submission on Nick while Santana dives through the ropes, crashing onto Matt at ringside! Nick fights through the pain, twisting, clawing, until Matt comes off the top with an elbow drop to break the hold!
Arn Anderson: That’s what brother do! They save each other, even if it means breaking their own spine!
Nick stumbles up, Santana returns — Doomsday Device! Nick nearly decapitates Santana with that clothesline!
Kevin Kelly: The Young Bucks pulling from the classics! Shades of the Road Warriors right there!
Both teams are exhausted. Nick and Matt share a glance… double superkick to Santana! Ortiz dives in for the save at two-and-three-quarters!
Nick goes for another knee strike, but Santana moves and Nick crashes into the turnbuckle. Santana springs off the ropes and catches the Bucks with a double cutter!
Ortiz hoists Nick up… STREET SWEEPER! (A blockbuster into a powerbomb)
1…
2…
Matt dives OVER the ref’s back to break up the count!
Kevin Kelly: I thought that was it! The Bucks were milliseconds from defeat!
Ortiz snaps, dragging Matt outside and powerbombs him into the barricade!
Arn Anderson: That’s the kind of move that takes years off a wrestler’s career!
Ortiz turns back towards the ring, as the crowd roars in approval. He scoops up Nick Jackson. Nick picks the leg and rolls him up with the inside cradle!
1…
2…
3!!!
Winners: The Young Bucks
Match Time: 14:02
Kevin Kelly: He got him! He got him! Nick Jackson steals one! The Young Bucks beat Proud & Powerful in a thriller!
Arn Anderson: The Bucks continue their streak, but Benny Mouse’s delay games mean the Harlem Turtles still hold those belts hostage.
The Bucks celebrate in the aisle, bruised and battered but defiant, as Santana and Ortiz glare daggers from the ring. The crowd stands, applauding the battle they just witnessed as the show cuts to commercial.
SEGMENT THREE
Somewhere deep in the bowels of the Resch Center, past the screams of the crowd and the buzz of fluorescent lighting, a corridor stretches into the shadows.
Benny Mouse paces like a caged animal, his fingers steepled, his jaw moving as if he’s chewing on the future. The glow of a green EXIT light in the distance is all the lights Benny and Danhausen, who leans against the cold concrete. He is clam, like a man who’s already read the last page of the play.
Benny Mouse stops mid-stride, as the words fall out of his mouth.
Benny Mouse: I knew hiring that rat Shocker was a mistake. I wanted the nostalgia pop. Splidder runs off with the Remnant, Splinter gets buried, and somehow all three of them come crawling back to spit in my face. Now they’re aligning against me, and next week you’ve got to fight Sami… when we should be worried about what’s stirring beneath all this.
Benny tails off, his words jumbled by his worry. Danhausen turns his head in an unnatural manor, as he watches Benny pace.
Danhausen: The strings move as they were always meant to. The puppets think they choose the rhythm, but the floorboards already know the dance. Sami Zayn is not our problem. He’s noise. I’ve seen the shape of his rage before, and I do not scare. He will scream, he will claw, and then I will break him.
Benny stops pacing, turning to Danhausen with feverish eyes.
Benny Mouse: I’m not afraid of Sami, I’m afraid of losing you. You know what that means, don’t you? Without you, I’m nothing — I go back to the walls, to the sickness, to the quiet. I’m not that mouse anymore. I won’t be.
Danhausen steps off the wall, the sound of his boots echoing faintly.
Danhausen: Fear is a lantern, Benny. Hold it too close, and it consumes you. Too far way, and you walk blind. Keep it level, and maybe it’ll show you the path we’ve seen in the flames.
Benny exhales, forcing his breath steady.
Benny Mouse: Then we prepare. And we keep that damn lantern lit.
A low, mocking laugh slithers down the hallway. From the shadows, Mr. Brodie Lee steps forward, the Guilty Remnant in formation behind him — Executioner, Aleister Black, Brody King, and Splidder.
Mr. Brodie Lee: Next week, after I dispose of your golden boy Randy Orton, the sweep begins. A reckoning is coming, Benny. For you and all your enablers.
Benny Mouse: If you touch either of us, I’ll send your ass back to ULW where you belong. [He scoffs at the mention of ULW.] What a fuckin’ joke of a company. Letting one guy bury an entire roster… letting your champion go to another promotion, and take a piss on your top prize. It’s amateur hour, Brodie, and I’ll happily send you back there.
Brodie takes a step closer, his voice lowering to a threat.
Mr. Brodie Lee: Your focus is scattered, tiny king. While you play chess with ghosts, while my soldiers sharpen the knives. When the Remnant moves, you won’t even have time to scream.
Danhausen steps between Benny and Brodie.
Danhausen: The hourglass has been turned, and I have watched the sand fall both ways. I’ve seen your rise, your fall, and the silence after. You do not matter in what comes next.
Brodie stares at him, unreadable, before finally smirking.
Mr. Brodie Lee: We’ll see about that.
He gestures to his men, and the Remnant fades back into the dark.
For a moment, only the hum of the lights remains. Benny exhales, rubbing his temples.
Benny Mouse: We need to leave. Something’s not right.
Danhausen doesn’t move. His gaze drifts down the hall, where the Remnant disappeared.
Danhausen: You’re right to be worried, Benny. The air is shifting. When the hour comes, everything must be in place, or everything we’ve built together will fall apart. The storm isn’t coming, Benny. It’s already here. We just haven’t heard the thunder yet.
Match #3 | Exhibition Match
Aleister Black vs. Randy Orton
As the introductions are made, Arn Anderson and Kevin Kelly discuss what we just witnessed with Benny Mouse, Danhausen, and the Guilty Remnant. They discuss the finalized card for next week’s Sympathy for the Devil, headlined by Danhausen vs. Sami Zayn II, the AEW World Heavyweight Championship match between Sean Olson and Will Ospreay, Brodie Lee vs. Randy Orton, and the match made official earlier tonight, Matt Riddle vs Jesse Hash.
The bell barely rings as Orton and Black waste no time throwing hands, exchanging wild punches as the crowd goes wild. Orton connects with a series of stiff European uppercuts, driving Black into the corner before stomping him down on his chest in his signature cold, deliberate style.
Kevin Kelly: Randy Orton returned to BWM Inc. with his eyes set on the top prize in the business, only for MJF to cost him his shot. Before Orton could even turn his focus to MJF, Mr. Brodie Lee and the Guilty Remnant locked their sights on him.
Arn Anderson: Lee and the Remnant have promised to rid the wrestling world of anyone who has ever enabled the Mouse family’s tyranny, and as much as I respect Orton, he undoubtedly looked the other way while Benny ruled like a mad king while he benefited.
Orton whips Black into the ropes, catching him on the rebound with a crisp powerslam. He grabs Black’s hair and tosses him to the outside, immediately following after.
He grabs him by the arm and whips him shoulder-first into the steel steps. Black crumbles, but Orton doesn’t let up. He tosses the top half of the steps off their foundation, before slamming Black’s face into the lower steps with a DDT!
Kevin Kelly: However just the Remnant may be for focusing on Randy Orton, he’s not just going to roll over and play dead. He’s proving he’s just as cold, calculating, and cruel as everyone else around here!
Arn Anderson: One person notably absent from the Guilty Remnant the past few months has been Julia Hart. Hart pledged her allegiance to the House of Black before the Remnant formed, and you’ve got to wonder, where’s she been?
Orton picks up the steps again, this time to use as a weapon. He swings them wildly, but Black rolls out of the way and Orton’s arms rattle as the stairs connect with the ringpost. Black unloads a series of sharp body kicks, each striking with Muay Thai precision. He leaps and catches Orton with a jumping knee to the jaw, staggering the viper back into the barricade.
Black climbs to the apron, and launches himself at Orton, connecting with the Meteora. His knees crash into Orton’s sternum as both man fall to the floor. Black doesn’t let u, however, as he grabs Orton by the head and slams him back first into the barricade, and then the apron, and then the steps for good measure!
Kevin Kelly: Black is matching Orton’s violence measure for measure, Arn.
Arn Anderson: And next week, Orton’s gotta compete again against Brodie Lee! What kind of shape will he be in for that match?
Black finally sends Orton back into the ring. He follows, and winds up for the Black Mass. He spins with the kick, but Orton ducks it, before scooping Black up high. He drops him across his knee with a backbreaker that contorts Black’s frame in a disgusting way.
Orton stalks around the ring, a sadistic smile forming across his lips. He lines up for the punt, rushing at Black. Black barely has the presence of mind to roll out of harms way, returning to the floor.
Kevin Kelly: Orton’s not going to want to give Black this much breathing room. He’s like a ghost, if you turn your back on him, he’ll be right behind you!
Orton waits for Black to return to the ring, and as soon as he tries to step through the ropes he grabs a hold of his head, going for the draping DDT. Black blocks it by hanging on to the rope, and catches Orton’s temple with a kick from the apron.
Black springboards end, catching Orton with the moonsault!
1…
2…
Orton stays alive.
They again brawl to the floor, where Black tries for a suplex onto the announce table. Orton counters it into a snap DDT onto the edge of the table, cutting Black above his eye.
Arn Anderson: Whether it’s on the apron, in the ring, or on a table, you’ve always got to watch out for Orton’s DDT!
Orton rolls him back into the ring and lines him up for the RKO, pounding the mat as the crowd comes alive. Orton goes for it, but Black shoves him away at the last second, connecting with a spinning heel kick.
Orton staggers, and Black hits a running knee!
1…
2…
Orton kicks out once more.
They again spill back to the outside. Orton tries to whip Black into the post, but Black reverses it and it’s Orton’s right shoulder that connects with the steel. With a primal roar, Black hits a running meteora, sending Orton back-first into the steep steps, still broken apart from earlier in the match.
Kevin Kelly: A rough landing for Randy Orton! That’s how you crack a rib!
Both men are slow to rise. As Orton gets to his feet, Black goes for a springboard off the apron, only for Orton to catch him with an RKO out of nowhere on the outside! The crowd explodes.
Arn Anderson: That’s the strike of a viper! Quick, clean, and lethal!
Orton rolls Black inside and covers.
1…
2…
2.999!
Black’s shoulder rises off the mat just in time!
Orton momentarily turns his attention to senior official Michael McMahon, which gives Black the opening he needs. Black crawls to the corner, just as Executioner hops the barricade.
Arn Anderson: What the hell! Where did he come from?
Executioner slides Black something small, just out of the camera’s view, before hopping back over the barricade and disappearing into a sea of fans.
Orton goes to Black and pulls him up, launching at him for a second RKO!
Black shoves him off, and suddenly, a burst of flames erupts from Black’s palm! A fireball! It scorches Orton’s face, sending him stumbling back, clutching his eyes in agony!
Kevin Kelly: WHAT THE? DID HE JUST? Aleister Black just threw a fireball!
The referee has no choice but to call for the bell, as a team of medics rushes to the ring to assist Randy Orton. Black watches on, showing no remorse. In fact, he looks proud of himself.
Winner via DQ: Randy Orton
Match Time: 13:49
As the medics tend to Orton, Black starts to leave the ring, before Mr. Brodie Lee appears at the top of the stage. He gives Black a silent nod, and Black returns to the ring and starts tossing the medics out of the way!
The crowd boos thunderously as Black begins to stomp away on Orton, as Anderson says he’s softening him up for Lee next week. He lifts Orton up, and though Orton can’t see, he tries desperately to fight back. Black just smirks as Orton swings blindly at nothing, before leveling him with the Black Mass!
Kevin Kelly: Black’s lost the match, but he doesn’t give a damn! He didn’t come out here to defeat Orton, he came out here to make sure Orton’s not 100 percent next week at Sympathy for the Devil!
Black stands tall over Orton, the remnants of smoke still in the air. Anderson and Kevin Kelly thank everyone for joining us, and say next week we’ll be back with Sympathy for the Devil.
The screen fades to a beat of black, before the broadcast hiccups, and white noise fills the air. Tracking lines wash over the feed, like skipping tracks on a vinyl record.
The image snaps back to a grainy and too-close shot of Sami Zayn, who sits on a cheap metal folding chair in a windowless hotel room. He stares directly into the camera. He does not blink.
Sami Zayn: For over a year, you’ve hid the ugly truths in lights and laughter. Candles, curses… a laugh track for your sins. You taught me to fear a mask, to flinch at shadows. That was before I learned what real fear tastes like.
He breathes once, the sound of his breath small yet dangerous.
Sami Zayn: Real fear isn’t shadows or smoke. Real fear is the echo of her name down an empty hallway. Real fear is a bed that remembers two bodies and keeps the shape of only one.
A small smile threatens to form at the edges of Sami’s mouth as he contiues.
Sami Zayn: Last I checked, I am still the chairman of BWM Inc. I don’t need permission for what I will do next. I need walls that don’t lie.
The camera pushes in slowly, tightening on Sami’s eyes.
Sami Zayn: We’ve done this before in the open air, and it wasn’t enough. I don’t want you running. I don’t want Benny’s army barging through our fight. I want a place where the truth has to stand and say its name. Next week, over one year in the making, you and I are going to go through a war together… inside HELL IN A CELL.
The reveal lands hard, and Sami gives it a second to breath before continuing.
Sami Zayn: I’m not coming to pin you and walk away. I’m coming to strip away your theatrics, until your tricks are just lonely hands. I will tear through your smoke and mirrors, and I will beat you without mercy until you tell me where Megan is.
He leans back, the camera still pushing in until all that fills the shot are Sami’s two eyes.
Sami Zayn: When that steel door closes next week, understand this… I’m coming to collect. There will be no Sympathy for the Devil.
The image shatters into static. Sami’s breath is the last thing you hear — slow, inevitable — then the screen dies.
World Of Wrestling: Murrey Universe 