DW Clash 80
📺 Live on the Sanctioned Violence Network
📍 The Stratford Arena, London, England
📆 8th September 2025
The scene opens with a sweeping shot of the packed Stratford Arena in London, England. The crowd is on its feet, a sea of passionate fans roaring with anticipation. The camera pans across the towering LED screens displaying the Dynasty Wrestling logo before settling on the commentary table at ringside. Steve Pringle and Eddie Bates are seated at the table, microphones in hand, with a mix of excitement and professional calm on their faces.
PRINGLE: Welcome, everyone, to a monumental episode of Dynasty Wrestling’s Clash! We are live from the state-of-the-art Stratford Arena, a building that has become synonymous with the heart-pounding thrill of this very company!
BATES: The energy is absolutely off the charts, Pringle, and you can feel the tension in the air. This isn’t just another show; this is the final stop before Titans PPV! Every rivalry, every grudge, it all comes to a head tonight!
PRINGLE: You’re absolutely right, Eddie. And speaking of rivalries, we have a stacked card for you tonight. Kicking things off, we have ‘The British Bomber’ Oliver Reed going one-on-one with ‘The Golden Boy’ Riley Smith! A classic clash of humility and arrogance.
BATES: It’s the people’s champ against the Beverly Hills snob. I can’t wait to see Reed put a well-deserved beating on him. The man thinks he’s a perfect specimen, Pringle. It’s time for him to get humbled.
PRINGLE: Also tonight, we have the high-flying Welsh Dragon, Rhys Morgan, facing off against the technical sadist, ‘The Amsterdam Avenger’ Stijn De Raaf. Rhys is known for putting his body on the line for the fans, but Stijn sees it as a science… and he’s ready to dissect him.
BATES: Stijn De Raaf is a surgeon in that ring, and he’s going to find every weakness in Rhys’s game and exploit it. I’m telling you, Rhys is too much of a showman; he needs to be more calculated if he wants to win tonight.
PRINGLE: Another fascinating match-up sees ‘The English Rose’ Emily Shaw taking on ‘The American Ace’ Leo Lewis. Emily, with her cunning tactics and self-proclaimed superiority, faces a fan favorite who loves to put on a show.
BATES: Emily is all about winning by any means necessary. The American kid is going to have to watch his back, Pringle. She’s going to cheat, she’s going to mock him, and she’s going to make him pay for coming over here to London.
PRINGLE: And finally, in our main event, we have a collision of two international powerhouses. ‘The Mirage’ Maxwell Blackwell, London’s own master manipulator, takes on ‘The Colossus of Finland’, Eero Koshinen! Maxwell’s mind games against Eero’s sheer brutality.
BATES: You’ve got to be kidding me! Blackwell has a posh accent and is a complete coward. Eero Koshinen is a stone-cold killer who will dismantle him piece by piece! This isn’t going to be a match, Pringle, it’s going to be a massacre!
PRINGLE: We shall see, Eddie. We have a lot of questions that are going to be answered tonight. Tensions are at a boiling point, and the only place to witness the final push to Titans is right here on the Sanctioned Violence Network! Let’s get to the action!
Ringside
The Stratford Arena is bathed in a stark, cold light as Angelo Anderson’s ominous theme, “God of the Underground” by Fever 333, hits the sound system. The crowd immediately erupts into a chorus of boos. The stage is filled with smoke as a long, sleeveless trench coat with a metal-plated chest piece slowly emerges. Angelo Anderson, the DW Heavyweight Champion, walks with a deliberate, intimidating swagger, the title belt slung over his shoulder. His shaved head, short beard, and intense, calculating eyes are visible as he makes his way down the ramp, unflinching in the face of the hostile crowd. He steps into the ring, takes the microphone from the ring announcer, and holds it up, the boos from the crowd momentarily overpowering the music.
Anderson waits for the noise to die down. He never raises his voice, speaking with an icy calm that sends a chill through the arena.
ANDERSON: This week… I’ve heard a lot of words. I’ve heard… “London’s Last Whisper”. I’ve heard… “heart” and “resilience”. I’ve heard you people whisper about how Cedric Thornfield is going to give me a run for my money at Titans. How he’s the one to finally crack the “Unbreakable” champion. All of it is just noise. It’s a fairy tale you’ve told yourselves to make the inevitable less painful.
He raises the DW Heavyweight Championship belt above his head, letting the gold shimmer in the lights. The crowd boos even louder.
ANDERSON: Look at this. This isn’t just a prize. It’s a symbol. It’s proof of superiority. It’s a testament to what happens when you stop caring about tradition, about legacy, about all the useless words and pointless promises. I didn’t come here to be your hero. I came here to dominate. To show every one of you and every person in that locker room that power is the only thing that matters.
He lowers the microphone and points directly at the camera.
ANDERSON: Cedric Thornfield… next week at Titans, you will stand across the ring from me. You can quote all the poetry you want. You can carry the hopes of every pathetic fan in this city on your shoulders. You can give me your best shot, your absolute best, and it still won’t be enough. Because I am not just a man. I am a storm you cannot weather. I am the wall you will never break. I am the Dynasty Destroyer, and I am unbreakable.
He drops the microphone to the canvas, the thud echoing throughout the arena. He lifts the belt again, holding it high as the camera zooms in on his cold, determined face. The crowd continues to boo, but a silent awe has settled over the fans, as if they’ve just been shown the chilling reality of what’s to come.
Backstage
The camera cuts backstage to the interview area, where William Smith is standing with a microphone. The background is a stark black curtain with the Dynasty Wrestling logo faintly visible. William Smith has a professional smile as he looks into the camera.
SMITH: Welcome back, everyone. We have a moment with one of Dynasty Wrestling’s most iconic names, Jet. Jet, thanks for joining me. You’ve been here for a couple of weeks since your return, but you have yet to step back into the ring. What’s the reason for that, and are we going to see ‘The Shogun of Speed’ in action at Titans next week?
Jet steps forward, a determined look on his face. He takes the microphone from Smith before he can finish his question, his frustration evident.
JET: You wanna know why I haven’t had a match yet? You wanna know why I’m not on the card for Titans? I’ll tell you why. I came back here to Dynasty Wrestling for one reason and one reason only, to show everyone that I am the past, present and future of this company! And what do I hear? What do I hear out there just now? I hear Angelo Anderson, a man who has held that belt for a few months, calling himself the greatest champion of all time! I was the DW Heavyweight Champion! Back when this company was in its first run, I held that very belt. The difference is, I didn’t need to call myself the best, I was just the best!
Just as Jet finishes, Jonathan Sullivan steps into the frame, a look of respect on his face.
SULLIVAN: Jet. I can’t help but hear your passion. I’ve been a fan of yours for a long time. I was just a kid when you were tearing it up in the original Dynasty Wrestling. You were the reason a lot of us got into this business in the first place, and it would be an honor to step into the ring with a true pioneer.
Jet gives a slight smirk, looking over at Sullivan.
SULLIVAN: Next week at Titans, let’s prove who the true pioneer of this company is. I’m giving you a challenge right now. Jet versus Jonathan Sullivan.
Jet looks at Sullivan, then at the camera, a wide grin spreading across his face.
JET: Jonathan, you got it. I’ll see you at Titans. You want a match? You’ve got a match. And at Titans, I’m going to show you, Angelo, and everyone else who the true greatest Dynasty Wrestling Heavyweight Champion of all time really is!
Jet hands the mic back to William Smith, who looks stunned as Jet walks off. Sullivan gives a confident nod and smiles as the camera cuts away.
Single Match
Oliver Reed vs. Riley Smith
The lights dim in the Stratford Arena as the opening chords of “A Fighter’s Chance” hit the sound system. The crowd erupts as a determined Oliver Reed walks out, clad in black trunks with a red and white stripe. He wears boxing gloves and a serious but determined look on his face. He high-fives the fans at ringside, a true people’s champion.
PRINGLE: A hero’s welcome for ‘The British Bomber’ Oliver Reed! This man is all heart, all guts, and he is a fan favorite here in London. He’s looking to get a win on the road to Titans.
BATES: I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: he’s too nice, Pringle. You can’t win with honor in this game. You need to be willing to get your hands dirty.
As Oliver Reed poses in the center of the ring, the music abruptly changes to a high-energy pop-rock anthem. The crowd boos loudly as ‘The Golden Boy’ Riley Smith makes his way to the ring, with a smug grin on his face. He’s wearing a sparkly black and gold satin ring jacket and black trunks with a gold trim. He blows a kiss to the booing crowd before entering the ring and winking at a few people in the front row.
BATES: Now, that’s how you get a reaction! This kid gets it. He’s not here to make friends; he’s here to win!
PRINGLE: This is what I’m talking about, Eddie. A classic clash of good versus evil. Let’s see if Riley Smith’s tactics are a match for Oliver Reed’s pure heart and talent.
The two men stand in opposite corners as referee Jerry Law signals for the bell.
DING! DING! DING!
The match begins, and the two men circle the ring. They lock up in the center, a test of strength. Reed gets the upper hand, pushing Smith back into the corner. He gives a clean break, but Smith immediately goes for a cheap shot, a kick to the gut. Reed catches the leg and shoves him away, a look of disgust on his face.
PRINGLE: And just like that, the arrogance of Riley Smith is on full display. He’s not interested in a fair fight.
BATES: Why should he be? This is about winning, Pringle, not about sportsmanship.
Smith charges Reed, but Reed ducks a clothesline and lands a series of stiff jabs to the body and head of Smith, just like he would have in his boxing career. He follows up with a powerful right hook, sending Smith stumbling into the corner. Reed lines up for a running powerslam, but Smith scurries away, exiting the ring to a chorus of boos.
PRINGLE: Cowardly tactics from Riley Smith. He’s trying to frustrate Oliver Reed, get him off his game.
BATES: It’s smart, Pringle! He’s using the environment to his advantage!
Smith slowly makes his way back into the ring, and the two men engage in a collar-and-elbow tie-up. Smith gets the better of the exchange, twisting Reed’s arm into an armbar. Reed reverses it, twisting Smith’s arm and then transitioning into a side headlock. Smith pushes him off, and Reed hits a shoulder tackle, knocking Smith to the mat. Reed runs the ropes, attempting an elbow drop, but Smith rolls out of the way.
The action continues to go back and forth, with both men exchanging blows. Smith, becoming increasingly frustrated, tries to hit a low blow, but Reed catches him and throws him into the corner, setting up for a running clothesline. Smith ducks out of the way, and Reed runs into the referee!
PRINGLE: Oh no! He didn’t mean to do that! Reed has accidentally taken out the referee!
BATES: That’s it! He’s getting disqualified!
PRINGLE: No, Jerry Law is still trying to get to his feet.
As Reed checks on the referee, Smith grabs a nearby ring jacket. He wraps it around his hand, a smug look on his face. He then runs up to Reed, who has his back turned, and nails him with a vicious right hand. The jacket, wrapped around his knuckles, makes the blow even more powerful.
PRINGLE: A cheap shot! Riley Smith, what a coward!
BATES: I’m not sure what you’re talking about, Pringle. The referee didn’t see it!
Reed is dazed, staggering on his feet. Smith throws the ring jacket into the crowd, out of sight of the referee.
PRINGLE: The referee is still down, and Riley Smith has no remorse! Look at him!
Smith then grabs a stumbling Reed, lifts him, and slams him to the mat with a devastating suplex. He then stands over Reed, a smile of pure evil on his face. He checks on the referee, who is still out of it, and then goes for a pin. The referee slowly crawls over to the pin and makes the three count. The bell rings!
DING! DING! DING!
PRINGLE: No! No! This can’t be happening! The referee didn’t see it! Riley Smith has won by cheating!
BATES: A win is a win, Pringle! I told you, you have to be willing to do whatever it takes to win in this business!
Smith’s music hits, and he raises his arm in victory. The crowd boos loudly as he celebrates his ill-gotten win. He then walks out of the ring, a smug grin on his face, leaving a defeated Oliver Reed and a baffled referee behind.
Backstage
The camera cuts backstage, where William Smith is waiting with a microphone. He is joined by the two members of The Sovereign, Ben Noble and Kandi Sparks. Both are dressed in their gear, looking ready for a fight. They have a serious look on their faces.
SMITH: Welcome back, everyone. I’m joined by The Sovereign, Ben Noble and Kandi Sparks. Now, last week, we all saw the unprovoked attack by The Cursed, Kane O’Malley and Lorcan Murphy. My question for you both is, why? Why did they choose you?
Ben Noble steps forward, his expression still and focused. He takes the microphone from William Smith.
NOBLE: That’s a question we’ve been asking ourselves, William. Why us? Why did they choose to attack us who stand for everything good in this business? Maybe it’s because they’re a couple of bitter, angry men who can’t stand the sight of two people who love this business and respect the fans. We don’t know why, but we know this: what they did last week was cowardly, and it was wrong.
Kandi Sparks steps in, her voice filled with a quiet intensity.
SPARKS: We’re not like them. We don’t believe in fighting dirty. We believe in honor, in sportsmanship, and in winning the right way. But after last week, a part of me… a part of us… wants to show them that we can be just as ruthless as they are. They messed with the wrong team. We are going to get our revenge, and we are going to do it in the ring where it counts.
SMITH: So, what’s next for The Sovereign? I can only imagine you’re looking for revenge. Is a match against The Cursed what’s on your minds for Titans?
NOBLE: At Titans, we’re going to prove we’re not just about heart; we’re about destruction!
Ben Noble holds the microphone up, as the camera zooms in on his face, a determined look in his eyes. He drops the mic and turns to Kandi Sparks, who nods in agreement. They then walk off, leaving a stunned William Smith behind.
Single Match
Rhys Morgan vs. Stijn De Raaf
The arena is buzzing with excitement as the first notes of a high-energy Celtic rock track, “A Hero’s Rise,” fill the Stratford Arena. A huge pop erupts from the crowd as ‘The Welsh Dragon’ Rhys Morgan makes his way to the ring. He’s wearing red and white trunks with a dragon emblazoned on the back. He has a huge smile on his face, waving to the crowd, and high-fiving the fans at ringside.
PRINGLE: A fantastic reception for Rhys Morgan! A young man who embodies the spirit of a true high-flyer and a fan favorite! This man loves to put his body on the line for the fans and always puts on a show!
BATES: Oh, come on, Pringle. He’s a reckless child! He’s all flash and no substance. This isn’t a show; this is a fight. And tonight, he’s going up against ‘The Amsterdam Avenger’ Stijn De Raaf, who is going to show him what a real fight looks like.
The Celtic music abruptly stops and is replaced by a cold, sterile electronic track with a repetitive, hypnotic beat. A hush falls over the crowd as a stoic Stijn De Raaf makes his way to the ring. He’s wearing a simple black singlet with a red and white stripe. He has a blank, emotionless expression, a stark contrast to Morgan’s fiery persona. He is a man of few words, preferring to let his actions do the talking for him.
PRINGLE: This man gives me the creeps, Eddie. His methodical and slow style often draws chants of “boring” from the crowd, and he simply ignores them. He’s a cold and calculating individual who takes great pleasure in inflicting pain and torment on his opponents.
BATES: That’s because he sees wrestling as a science, not a popularity contest. He is the mad scientist, meticulously dissecting his opponents’ bodies with his technical prowess.
DING! DING! DING!
The bell rings, and the match begins. Stijn De Raaf immediately goes for a takedown, but Morgan nimbly dodges it, staying light on his feet. Morgan uses his speed to get the upper hand, landing a few quick strikes to the body and head of Stijn, but Stijn catches a kick and throws Morgan hard to the mat.
PRINGLE: Stijn De Raaf is trying to ground Morgan, take away his high-flying advantage!
BATES: It’s the only way to beat a high-flyer. You can’t let him get to the top rope, Pringle. You have to keep him on the mat.
Stijn begins to work over Morgan, targeting his leg and applying a series of submission holds. Morgan screams in agony, but he refuses to tap out. The crowd chants “Rhys! Rhys! Rhys!” willing him to get back into the match. Morgan manages to get to his feet, but Stijn keeps him grounded with a brutal lariat, following up with a series of stomps to the head.
PRINGLE: Stijn De Raaf is showing no mercy! This man is a master of maiming, and he’s doing exactly what he said he would do.
BATES: That’s what I’m talking about, Pringle! Stijn De Raaf is going to win this match with his intellect and his strength.
Morgan, fueled by the crowd’s energy, begins to mount a comeback. He manages to get to his feet and hits a series of kicks to the legs and chest of Stijn. He then runs the ropes and hits a beautiful springboard moonsault! The crowd goes wild as Morgan’s momentum shifts. He goes for another high-flying move, a beautiful corkscrew moonsault to the outside!
PRINGLE: What a move from Rhys Morgan! The Welsh Dragon is showing his heart and his passion, and he’s risking it all for the fans!
BATES: I’ve seen this before, Pringle! He’s going to get himself hurt if he keeps this up! He’s too reckless!
The two men battle back and forth, both men now exhausted. Stijn De Raaf, in a last-ditch effort, goes for the Dutch Clutch, his devastating cross-armbar submission. Morgan manages to get out of it by kicking Stijn in the face with his free leg, which dazes Stijn.
PRINGLE: What a counter! Stijn De Raaf is dazed! This could be it!
Morgan, seeing an opening, climbs to the top rope. He stands on the top turnbuckle and lines up a 450 splash. But as he’s about to leap, Stijn De Raaf quickly gets to his feet and pushes the rope, sending Morgan crashing to the canvas.
PRINGLE: What a cheap shot! The referee didn’t see that! Stijn De Raaf is a coward!
BATES: He’s a mastermind, Pringle! He’s a master of bending the rules to his advantage! I told you, you have to be willing to get your hands dirty to win in this business!
Morgan is dazed, clutching his back in pain. Stijn De Raaf sees the opportunity and quickly applies the Dutch Clutch. Morgan screams in agony, his arm trapped, with nowhere to go. He is forced to tap out. The bell rings!
DING! DING! DING!
PRINGLE: No! No! This can’t be happening! The crowd is in shock! Stijn De Raaf has won!
BATES: I told you, Pringle! Stijn De Raaf is a master of his craft. He dismantled Morgan just like a surgeon.
Stijn De Raaf’s cold, sterile music hits the sound system. He releases the hold on Morgan, who is still writhing in pain on the mat. Stijn De Raaf stands over him, a blank, emotionless expression on his face, a testament to his cold and calculated victory. He walks out of the ring, a winner, but with no honor.
Backstage
The camera cuts backstage, where William Smith is waiting with a microphone. He is joined by ‘The Essex Pretty Boy’ Oliver Harrington. He’s wearing a sparkly, skin-tight black and gold ring jacket and has a smug look on his face.
SMITH: Welcome back, everyone. I’m here with a man who is making a lot of noise in the Dynasty Wrestling locker room, Oliver Harrington. Oliver, your confidence is palpable, can you win back the DW UK Championship at Titans next week?
HARRINGTON: Oh, William, darling, you’re looking at the future of this company. I don’t need a title to prove my worth. I’ve already proven it. But since you asked, yes I do look good with gold.
He flips his hair, a cocky smirk on his face.
HARRINGTON: There’s a certain so-called ‘Highlander’ running around here, prancing for the crowd and getting their hopes up. Callum McLeod, I’m talking to you. You’ve got that UK Championship, a title that is supposed to be a stepping stone to greatness. But let’s be honest, you’re not a star. You’re just a glorified circus act.
SMITH: He’s a fan favorite, Oliver, and a very respected competitor.
HARRINGTON: Respected? Please. The only thing he respects is a good photo op. He’s a humble and lovable character who always puts the fans first, but I don’t care about the fans. They are just peasants who don’t appreciate my flawless technique and my stunning good looks.
SMITH: Are you at all worried about the DW UK Champion?
HARRINGTON: Worried? No, darling. I’m offering him a chance to step into the ring with a true superstar. A man who will show him what it means to be a champion. A man who will take that title and make it look as good as I do. Next week, at Titans, I’m going to take that DW UK Championship and show everyone that the ‘Prince of Brentwood’ is the rightful heir to the throne!
Oliver Harrington walks off, leaving a flabbergasted William Smith behind.
Single Match
Emily Shaw vs. Leo Lewis
The lights in the Stratford Arena go dark as a high-energy electronic track with a driving beat, “A Royal Pain,” blasts through the sound system. The crowd immediately begins to boo as ‘Platinum’ Emily Shaw makes her way to the ring, with a smug grin on her face. She’s wearing a silver and gold ring jacket with “Platinum” emblazoned on the back and matching gear. She blows a kiss to the booing crowd before flipping her long blonde hair and winking at a few people in the front row.
PRINGLE: This is the self-proclaimed ‘English Rose,’ Emily Shaw. A woman who believes she is superior to everyone else in the locker room. She’s a cunning and underhanded heel who will do whatever it takes to win, often resorting to cheap shots and outside interference.
BATES: And that’s why she’s a winner, Pringle. She’s not here to make friends or to impress the fans. She’s here to win, and she’s not afraid to use every trick in the book to get it done. I respect her hustle.
As Emily Shaw poses in the center of the ring, the crowd erupts in cheers as the upbeat pop-rock anthem “A Star is Born” hits the sound system. ‘The American Ace’ Leo Lewis sprints down the ramp, high-fiving the fans at ringside. He’s wearing red and white trunks with a star-spangled banner on the back, and he has a huge smile on his face.
PRINGLE: A hero’s welcome for Leo Lewis! A young man who embodies the spirit of a true high-flyer and a fan favorite! He’s a natural showman who loves to interact with the crowd, and his energy is infectious.
BATES: The kid’s got a lot of energy, I’ll give him that. But he’s a rookie, Pringle. He’s got a long way to go before he can hang with someone like Emily Shaw. She’s a highly decorated independent wrestler from England.
The bell rings, and the match begins. The two wrestlers circle the ring, sizing each other up. They lock up in the center, and Lewis gets the upper hand, pushing Shaw back into the corner. He gives a clean break, but Shaw immediately goes for a cheap shot, a slap to the face. Lewis is shocked, and Shaw takes advantage, landing a few quick strikes to the body and head of the ‘American Ace.’
PRINGLE: What a cheap shot from Emily Shaw! She’s living up to her reputation as a cunning and underhanded heel!
BATES: What’s the matter, Pringle? Can’t handle a little bit of sass? She’s just getting inside his head. It’s a mind game, and she’s already won.
Lewis, fueled by a fiery passion, begins to mount a comeback. He ducks a clothesline and lands a series of powerful kicks to the body and chest of Shaw. He then runs the ropes and hits a beautiful springboard moonsault! The crowd goes wild as Lewis’s momentum shifts. He then goes for another high-flying move, a beautiful corkscrew moonsault to the outside! He goes for a cover, but Shaw kicks out at two.
PRINGLE: What a series of moves from Leo Lewis! He’s showing his heart and his passion, and he’s risking it all for the fans!
BATES: He’s too reckless, Pringle! He’s going to get himself hurt if he keeps this up! You can’t win a match on pure adrenaline alone. You need to be smart.
The two wrestlers battle back and forth, both of them exhausted. Shaw, with a devious look in her eyes, goes for a low blow, but Lewis catches her and throws her into the corner. Lewis then attempts a running knee, but Shaw dodges it at the last second, and Lewis’s knee hits the turnbuckle.
PRINGLE: Ooh! That’s gotta hurt! Lewis’s knee just took a beating!
BATES: This is the end for the American Ace! She’s a master of bending the rules to her advantage, and she’s just done it again!
Lewis is dazed, clutching his knee in pain. Shaw, seeing an opening, quickly goes for her finisher, the Royal Flush. She delivers a spinning back fist to a dazed Lewis, before transitioning into a swift knee strike to the side of his head as he falls. Lewis is knocked out cold. Shaw then goes for the pin, and the referee makes the three count. The bell rings!
DING! DING! DING!
PRINGLE: No! No! This can’t be happening! The crowd is in shock! Emily Shaw has won by pure cunning!
BATES: I told you, Pringle! Emily Shaw is a master of her craft. She dismantled Lewis just like I knew she would. You have to be willing to do whatever it takes to win in this business, and she’s not afraid to get her hands dirty.
Emily Shaw’s music hits, and she raises her arm in victory. The crowd boos loudly as she celebrates her victory. She then walks out of the ring, with a smug grin on her face, leaving a defeated Leo Lewis behind.
Backstage
The camera cuts backstage, where William Smith is waiting with a microphone. He is joined by the two members of British Hospitality, Harry Black and Alexander Hate. Both men are dressed in their wrestling gear, looking ready for a fight. They have a serious but determined look on their faces.
SMITH: Welcome back, everyone. I’m joined by one of the most beloved tag teams in Dynasty Wrestling, British Hospitality, Harry Black and Alexander Hate. It was confirmed that you two will be challenging the DW UK Tag Team Champions, The Dogs of War, for the titles next week at the Titans PPV. How are you two feeling?
Harry Black steps forward, a determined look on his face. He takes the microphone from William Smith.
BLACK: William, we’re not just feeling good; we’re feeling great. The Dogs of War, Jack O’Connor and Nate McKenzie, think they can come to our country, win our titles, and walk around with no fear. Well, they’ve got another thing coming. We’re going to show them some true British hospitality at Titans, and it ain’t gonna be pleasant.
Alexander Hate steps in, his voice filled with a quiet intensity.
HATE: The Dogs of War are a pair of ruthless, vicious animals. They have no respect for their opponents, no respect for the fans, and no respect for this business. But next week, they’re going to face two men who are going to bring the fight to them. They’re going to have to look us in the eyes and face us, man to man, and when they do, they’re going to see two men who are not afraid to fight.
SMITH: So you’re confident you can defeat the Dogs of War, and bring those championships back home to London?
BLACK: Absolutely. We’re a team of honour, strength, and integrity, and we’re not going to let them get away with what they’ve done. Next week, at Titans, we’re going to take those titles and show the world what it means to be the DW UK Tag Team Champions!
Harry Black holds the microphone up, as the camera zooms in on his face, a determined look in his eyes. He drops the mic and turns to Alexander Hate, who nods in agreement. They then walk off, leaving a smiling William Smith behind.
Single Match
Maxwell Blackwell vs. Eero Koshinen
The lights in the Stratford Arena go dark as a smooth and jazzy tune with a big band feel, “A Deceptive Game,” hits the sound system. A cacophony of boos rains down from the crowd as ‘The Mirage’ Maxwell Blackwell makes his way to the ring, with a smug grin on his face. He’s wearing a custom-made black and gold velvet ring jacket and black trunks with a gold trim. He waves to the booing crowd with a mock salute before entering the ring and winking at a few people in the front row.
PRINGLE: This is the self-proclaimed ‘Master of Manipulation,’ Maxwell Blackwell. A man who sees wrestling as a mind game, not a physical contest. He is an opportunist who will use any distraction or loophole to gain the upper hand.
BATES: And that’s why he’s a genius, Pringle! He’s a master of psychological warfare. He’s not here to get in a brawl; he’s here to win, and he’s going to use his brain to do it. Eero Koshinen is a monster, but he’s not a mastermind.
The jazzy tune abruptly stops and is replaced by a dark, foreboding metal track with a slow, heavy bassline and deep, guttural guitar riffs. A hush falls over the crowd as a stoic Eero Koshinen makes his way to the ring. He’s wearing a plain black singlet that highlights his immense size. He has a stone-cold expression on his face, a testament to his intimidating and stoic persona.
PRINGLE: This man, Eero Koshinen, is a powerhouse striker with a background in European strong-style wrestling. He’s a man of few words, letting his actions in the ring speak for him. And tonight, he’s going to show Maxwell Blackwell what a real fight looks like.
BATES: I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: this isn’t going to be a match, Pringle, it’s going to be a massacre!
DING! DING! DING!
The bell rings, and the match begins. Maxwell Blackwell, ever the coward, immediately exits the ring, running to the other side to a chorus of boos. Eero Koshinen stands in the center of the ring, a look of pure menace on his face.
PRINGLE: Cowardly tactics from Maxwell Blackwell! He’s trying to frustrate Eero Koshinen, get him off his game.
BATES: It’s smart, Pringle! He’s using the environment to his advantage! He’s a master of manipulation!
Blackwell slowly makes his way back into the ring, trying to get the upper hand with a few quick strikes, but Eero Koshinen doesn’t even flinch. He grabs Maxwell by the neck, lifts him, and slams him to the mat with a devastating suplex. Eero then stands over him, a smile of pure evil on his face. He goes for a few stomps to the head, but Blackwell manages to scurry away and get out of the ring.
PRINGLE: Eero Koshinen is a monster! Maxwell Blackwell is trying to use his mind games, but Eero is just too powerful!
BATES: He’s a brute, Pringle! But he’s not a genius. Blackwell is going to use his intellect to win this match.
The two men battle back and forth, but Eero Koshinen’s raw power is too much for Maxwell Blackwell. Koshinen hits him with a series of hard-hitting strikes and powerful slams. Blackwell, becoming increasingly frustrated, tries to hit a low blow, but Eero catches him and throws him into the corner. Koshinen then goes for a running powerslam, but Blackwell dodges it at the last second, and Koshinen’s head hits the turnbuckle!
PRINGLE: Ooh! Koshinen is dazed! This could be it! Maxwell has an opening!
BATES: This is where Maxwell Blackwell’s cunning pays off, Pringle!
Maxwell Blackwell, seeing an opening, climbs to the top rope. He stands on the top turnbuckle and lines up a high-risk maneuver, but as he’s about to leap, Eero Koshinen quickly gets to his feet and grabs Blackwell from the top rope, lifting him into the air.
PRINGLE: What a display of pure strength from Eero Koshinen!
BATES: This is the end for Maxwell Blackwell! He’s going to get himself hurt if he keeps this up!
Eero Koshinen hoists Blackwell high above his head, and the crowd chants “Koshinen! Koshinen!” Eero then slams him down with a devastating powerbomb. He then stands over Maxwell, a look of pure dominance on his face. He goes for the pin, and the referee makes the three count. The bell rings!
DING! DING! DING!
PRINGLE: What a dominating display from ‘The Colossus of Finland!’ He has decimated Maxwell Blackwell and picked up a big victory tonight!
BATES: I told you, Pringle, this was going to be a massacre! Eero Koshinen is an unstoppable force! He’s a monster, a brute, a killer! And he just proved it tonight!
Eero Koshinen’s music hits, and he raises his arms in victory. The crowd is in awe as he stands over a defeated Maxwell Blackwell.
Ringside
Eero Koshinen stands in the middle of the ring, his hand raised in victory. The Stratford Arena is still buzzing from his dominant performance. The crowd, though they dislike his cold demeanor, respects his power. Koshinen’s face remains emotionless, a silent testament to his victory. The commentators, Steve Pringle and Eddie Bates, are wrapping up the broadcast.
PRINGLE: A statement victory from Eero Koshinen! What a dominating performance by “The Colossus of Finland” tonight! He has truly cemented himself as a main event player in Dynasty Wrestling.
BATES: I told you, Pringle! He’s a monster! A powerhouse of pure aggression and brute force! He’s going to be unstoppable going into Titans next week.
Suddenly, the arena lights flicker, then turn a deep, foreboding red. The rhythmic, ominous sound of “Valhalla Calling” hits, and the crowd immediately erupts into a thunderous chorus of boos. From the stage, ‘The Viking’ Bjorn Asulf emerges, his massive frame silhouetted by the red light. The camera quickly cuts back to Eero Koshinen, who stands motionless, his back to the stage. He doesn’t even turn his head, just stares straight ahead.
PRINGLE: Oh my word! It’s Bjorn Asulf! The “Norse Nightmare” is here!
BATES: I told you he was coming! I told you he was here to cause chaos! He’s a relentless, intimidating, and deeply proud man, and he’s not going to let Koshinen get away with a victory in his house!
Bjorn Asulf storms down the ramp and slides into the ring. Koshinen slowly turns around, his cold expression finally showing a hint of acknowledgment. The two giants stand face-to-face in the center of the ring, a battle of two of the most intimidating men in Dynasty Wrestling history. They lock eyes, a silent, tense stare-down. Bjorn Asulf lets out a chilling war cry, then a vicious headbutt, followed by a series of punches to the head and body. Eero Koshinen is dazed and stumbles backward.
PRINGLE: Bjorn Asulf is showing no mercy! He’s taking Koshinen out!
BATES: He’s a brutal powerhouse brawler, Pringle! I told you, this man has no finesse, just pure destruction!
Bjorn Asulf lifts the dazed Koshinen high above his head for a Ragnarök, a vicious spinning side slam. He screams, and a thunderous roar from the crowd rains down on him as he plants Eero Koshinen on the mat with a devastating impact. Koshinen is out cold. Bjorn Asulf stands over the fallen Koshinen, his arms raised in triumph, letting out a primal war cry. He looks into the camera, his eyes filled with a chilling conviction.
PRINGLE: This is a man who believes he is the physical reincarnation of Norse conquerors, and he’s treating Eero Koshinen like a defeated foe!
BATES: The era of kings has returned, Pringle! And Bjorn is the only rightful ruler!
Bjorn Asulf looks down at the fallen Koshinen, a smug look on his face as the camera zooms in on him. The screen goes black as the credits begin to roll. The show goes off the air with the chilling image of Bjorn Asulf standing over his fallen opponent.
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