P:V Uprising 104
Live on the Sanctioned Violence Network
Kaseya Center, Miami, Florida
28th December 2024
The camera pans over a packed Kaseya Center in Miami, Florida, with over 19,000 fans roaring as P:V Uprising 104 kicks off! The arena is alive with energy, the crowd waving signs and chanting for their favorite stars. Pyro explodes across the stage as the show begins.
Zac Brindle:
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to P:V Uprising 104, live from the sold-out Kaseya Center in Miami! I’m Zac Brindle, joined by the ever-opinionated Johnny Kaos, and Johnny, what a week it’s been!”
Johnny Kaos:
“Zac, I’m still reeling from the chaos we witnessed at the EWL ‘European Cup’ on Christmas Eve in Berlin! Our Heavyweight Champion, Adam Garcia, fought his heart out against DW’s Jean Louis Duval in the final, but let’s not mince words—it was Caleb Knox who cost him the win! And tonight, I’ve got a feeling the fallout from that betrayal is going to be explosive.”
Zac Brindle:
“That’s right, Johnny. Knox has made it his mission to destroy every top name in P:V, and his interference at the European Cup has only added fuel to the fire. Will Garcia seek retribution? Or will Knox continue his reign of terror unchallenged?”
Johnny Kaos:
“Speaking of challenges, we’ve got an incredible lineup of matches tonight, including not one, but two championship matches!”
Zac Brindle:
“In our main event, the P:V Tag Team Champions, The Starr Brothers, defend their titles against the unlikely but determined duo of Teddy Rush and Dutch Ramirez. Can the challengers continue their hot streak, or will the Starrs prove why they’re the champs?”
Johnny Kaos:
“Then there’s the P:V TV Championship match! Stevie Rigg has been on a roll lately, but tonight he faces the cunning and opportunistic Maverick Matthews. Can Rigg hold onto his gold, or will Matthews outsmart him?”
Zac Brindle:
“And let’s not forget two hard-hitting singles matches. Rex Stone takes on the enigmatic Bernard Wolfe, while Dash Diaz looks to snap his losing streak against ‘The Holy Avenger,’ Gabriel Cross.”
Johnny Kaos:
“Diaz better bring his A-game because Cross isn’t here to play nice. And Wolfe versus Stone? That’s a match where both guys have something to prove. Buckle up, Zac—tonight is going to be wild!”
Zac Brindle:
“With the fallout from the European Cup and so much on the line tonight, you won’t want to miss a second of the action. P:V Uprising 104 starts right now!”
The camera cuts to a wide shot of the roaring crowd before transitioning to the backstage area, teasing the night’s drama and action.
Ringside
Top Stars
The arena lights dim as the menacing theme music of Caleb Knox hits. The crowd erupts into a sea of boos as Knox strides confidently down the ramp, smirking at the hostile Miami fans. He climbs into the ring, grabs a microphone, and waits for the noise to subside, though the jeers only grow louder.
Caleb Knox:
“Shut your mouths and listen up!” The boos intensify. “You can hate me all you want, but the truth is standing right here in front of you. In the past few weeks, I’ve taken out not one, not two, but three of the so-called top stars in P:V!”
Knox paces the ring, holding up three fingers.
Caleb Knox:
“Adam Garcia. Elijah Drake. Masafumi Satake. One by one, I’ve left them lying in the ring or the locker room, wondering what hit them. And now, just a few weeks out from the PPV, your supposed main event stars aren’t even here tonight because of me.”
The fans erupt in chants of “You suck!” Knox smirks, letting the crowd vent their frustrations before continuing.
Caleb Knox:
“So let’s cut the charade. James Von Drake, get out here right now and do what everyone in this building already knows needs to happen. Hand me the P:V Heavyweight Championship, because no one else in this company deserves it. Not Garcia, not Drake, and certainly not anyone back there in the locker room.”
Knox lowers the mic, staring up the ramp expectantly as the crowd boos. The tension builds, and after a moment, music hits—but it’s not Von Drake’s. It’s the theme of Hate Watson! The crowd gives a mixed reaction as Watson, one-half of the dominant Gutter Gods, marches down to the ring with purpose.
Zac Brindle (on commentary):
“Wait a second! It’s Hate Watson! What’s he doing out here?”
Johnny Kaos:
“Looks like Knox’s demands hit a nerve with one of the most dangerous men in P:V!”
Watson climbs into the ring and snatches a mic, staring down Knox with a smirk.
Hate Watson:
“Knox, I’ll give you credit—you’ve been making waves around here. You’ve taken out some people I personally can’t stand, so for that, I’ll say… well done.”
The crowd murmurs as Knox raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued.
Hate Watson:
“But here’s where you’ve got it wrong. Those guys you’ve laid out? They’re not the top stars around here. I am. I’ve been running roughshod over this company for years, carrying gold and breaking bodies. You might think you’re the big bad wolf, but you haven’t faced anyone like me.”
Knox steps closer, smirking again.
Caleb Knox:
“Oh, is that so? Well, if you’re so sure about being the top star, why don’t you prove it? You and me, one-on-one, in the main event tonight.”
The crowd roars at the challenge, clearly anticipating the clash.
Hate Watson:
“You think I’m scared of you? You’ve got yourself a match, kid. But tonight, you’re going to find out why they call me Hate.”
Watson drops the mic as the two men stand nose to nose, the tension palpable as the crowd buzzes with excitement.
Zac Brindle:
“Wow! What a way to kick off the show! Caleb Knox versus Hate Watson in the main event—this is going to be explosive!”
Johnny Kaos:
“Knox’s reign of terror might hit a wall tonight, or Watson could end up as his latest victim. Either way, I can’t wait!”
Knox and Watson exchange intense glares as the show cuts to a commercial break.
Backstage
May the Best Man Win
The camera cuts to the backstage interview area, where Elena Cruz stands alongside the young Canadian star Rex Stone. Stone, dressed in his ring gear and exuding quiet confidence, adjusts his wrist tape as Elena begins the interview.
Elena Cruz:
“Rex, tonight you’re opening the show against one of the most respected veterans in P:V, ‘The Wayward Traveller’ Bernard Wolfe. How are you feeling heading into this match?”
Rex Stone:
Smiling faintly. “You know, Elena, I’ve been waiting for this opportunity. Bernard Wolfe is someone I’ve watched for years. He’s tough, smart, and a guy who’s been all over the world proving why he’s one of the best. For me, this match is a chance to test myself against someone I admire—and to show everyone what I’m capable of.”
Elena Cruz:
“It’s no secret that you’ve been on a roll recently. Do you think you have what it takes to defeat someone with Wolfe’s experience?”
Rex Stone:
“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t believe I could win, Elena. Wolfe might have the experience edge, but I’ve got heart, speed, and a hunger to make a name for myself. I know it won’t be easy, but I’m ready for the challenge.”
As Rex finishes speaking, Bernard Wolfe walks into the frame, already in his ring gear and carrying his signature weathered leather jacket. He nods respectfully at Rex and turns to Elena.
Bernard Wolfe:
“I couldn’t help but overhear, and I’ve got to say, I like your attitude, kid.”
Wolfe extends his hand to Rex, who shakes it firmly. The crowd can be heard cheering in the background of the live feed.
Bernard Wolfe:
“Let’s give these fans something to remember out there. May the best man win.”
Rex Stone:
“Looking forward to it. Let’s tear it up.”
Wolfe flashes a small smile before walking off toward the entrance area. Rex watches him leave, then turns back to Elena.
Rex Stone:
“That’s the kind of match I live for. Time to go to work.”
Rex adjusts his wrist tape one last time and heads toward the ring with determination in his eyes. The camera lingers on Elena as she wraps up the segment.
Elena Cruz:
“There you have it—respect and competition at its finest. Rex Stone versus Bernard Wolfe is coming up next!”
The scene fades to the arena as the crowd cheers in anticipation.
Single Match
Rex Stone vs. Bernard Wolfe
Backstage
The Streak
The camera cuts to the backstage area where Elena Cruz stands with Dash Diaz, the charismatic and energetic fan favorite who has recently faced a string of setbacks. Diaz is dressed in his ring gear, his demeanor more focused than usual, though a hint of frustration lingers in his eyes.
Elena Cruz:
“Dash, tonight you’re moments away from stepping into the ring with one of the most dangerous competitors in P:V, ‘The Holy Avenger’ Gabriel Cross. You’ve been on a bit of a rough patch lately—how are you preparing for such a high-stakes match?”
Dash Diaz:
Exhales deeply, nodding. “Yeah, Elena, it’s been tough. I’d be lying if I said the losses didn’t weigh on me. Losing the IPWA Junior Heavyweight Championship—it stung, big time. And since then, I feel like I’ve been chasing something that keeps slipping through my fingers.”
He pauses, looking down briefly before locking eyes with the camera.
Dash Diaz:
“But here’s the thing—I’m still here. I’m still fighting. Gabriel Cross might be dangerous, but so am I when I’m cornered. This losing streak? It’s not who I am. I know what I’m capable of, and tonight is my chance to prove it to everyone, including myself.”
Elena Cruz:
“Gabriel Cross has made a name for himself as a ruthless competitor who enjoys exploiting his opponent’s weaknesses. What’s your strategy to overcome that and get back on track tonight?”
Dash Diaz:
Smirks faintly, some of his usual charisma shining through. “Gabriel’s good, no doubt. He’s got that ego and that attitude, but I’ve faced guys like him before. My plan? Stay quick, stay smart, and remind him that I’m not some stepping stone for his agenda. He wants to intimidate me? Good luck with that—I’ve been through too much to let someone like Gabriel Cross stop me.”
Before Elena can ask another question, Gabriel Cross appears in the frame, his imposing presence immediately shifting the energy. Cross, with his signature smug grin, looks Diaz up and down before addressing him directly.
Gabriel Cross:
“Dash, Dash, Dash… all this talk about proving yourself, about getting back on track. But let’s face it—you’re just trying to convince yourself. You’re not beating me tonight. You’re not even in my league.”
Diaz steps up to Cross, their faces inches apart as tension fills the air.
Dash Diaz:
“We’ll see about that in the ring. Hope you’re ready, because I am.”
Cross chuckles, dismissively shaking his head, before turning and walking off. Diaz watches him leave, his determination solidifying further.
Elena Cruz:
“Dash, any final thoughts before you head out there?”
Dash Diaz:
Glances at Elena, then back toward the direction Cross walked off. “Yeah. Tonight, the streak ends.”
With that, Diaz storms off toward the entrance area, his focus unshaken. The camera pans back to Elena, who looks into the lens with a mix of anticipation and concern.
Elena Cruz:
“It’s Dash Diaz versus Gabriel Cross—coming up next!”
The scene fades to black as the crowd roars in anticipation.
Single Match
Dash Diaz vs. Gabriel Cross
Backstage
Paper Champion
The camera cuts to the locker room where P:V TV Champion Stevie Rigg is warming up for his upcoming title defense against former champion Maverick Matthews. Rigg is laser-focused, shadowboxing and stretching, his TV Championship belt resting on a nearby bench. Suddenly, the door swings open, and the devious Katya Roux saunters in with her ever-present air of arrogance.
Katya Roux:
Clapping mockingly. “Oh, look at you, Stevie. The mighty TV Champion, preparing for yet another… uninspired title defense.”
Rigg glances at her, clearly annoyed, but doesn’t stop his warm-up routine.
Stevie Rigg:
“Whatever you’re selling, Katya, I’m not buying. Shouldn’t you be off scheming somewhere else?”
Katya Roux:
Scoffs, stepping closer. “Scheming? Oh, darling, this isn’t scheming. This is truth. You walk around here with that belt like you’ve accomplished something, but let’s be real. Defending against the likes of Maverick Matthews? Please. It’s almost embarrassing.”
Rigg finally stops and turns to face her, rolling his eyes.
Stevie Rigg:
“Embarrassing? I beat one of the toughest guys on this roster to win this title, and I’ve defended it against anyone they’ve put in front of me. If that bothers you, too bad.”
Katya Roux:
Smirks slyly. “What bothers me is that you’re avoiding the real competition. My monster, Midas, has been waiting. Waiting for you to stop hiding behind these so-called challengers and prove you’re not just a paper champion.”
Rigg steps closer to her, his frustration evident but controlled.
Stevie Rigg:
“Hiding? Paper champion? You’ve got some nerve, Katya. But let me make this clear: I don’t back down from anyone. If Midas wants a shot, he can step up, earn it, and then we’ll see if he’s as scary as you keep saying he is.”
Katya Roux:
Laughs mockingly, leaning in closer. “Oh, Stevie, you’ll regret underestimating him. But don’t worry—you won’t have to wait long. After your little defense tonight, why don’t you keep a close eye on what Midas does next? You’ll see exactly why that title is destined to be his.”
Katya turns on her heel and walks out, leaving Rigg shaking his head but visibly fired up. He grabs his belt, slings it over his shoulder, and mutters under his breath.
Stevie Rigg:
“Bring it on, Katya. Bring it on.”
The camera lingers on Rigg as he heads toward the entrance area, his focus unwavering despite the interruption. The scene fades to black as the tension continues to build.
P:V TV Championship Match
Stevie Rigg (c) vs. Maverick Matthews
Backstage
A Disgrace!
The camera cuts to the backstage area where P:V Tag Team Champions Darren and Simon Starr are standing in their locker room, their gold championship belts glinting under the fluorescent lights. Both men are clearly agitated, pacing back and forth as they engage in a heated conversation.
Darren Starr:
“This is a joke, Simon! An absolute joke! We’re the Tag Team Champions—the best in the division—and we’re being forced to defend against… what, two random guys who aren’t even a real team?”
Simon Starr:
Crosses his arms, leaning against the wall. “Yeah, two guys who have about as much chemistry as oil and water. This is what Von Drake calls ‘competition’? What a disgrace.”
Darren Starr:
Gestures emphatically. “Exactly! We’ve beaten everyone who actually matters, and now we’re stuck fighting some thrown-together duo like we have something to prove? We’re the ones carrying this division on our backs!”
Simon nods, his expression sour.
Simon Starr:
“Look, I get it. Teddy Rush and Dutch Ramirez might be popular with the fans, but that doesn’t make them worthy of a shot at our titles. They don’t deserve to breathe the same air as us, let alone share the ring with us.”
Darren Starr:
Smirking now, his confidence returning. “You know what, Simon? Maybe this is a blessing in disguise. Tonight, we show everyone why we’re the champs and why this division revolves around us. We’ll embarrass these clowns, and then Von Drake will have no choice but to find us some real challengers.”
Simon steps forward, clapping Darren on the shoulder.
Simon Starr:
“That’s right. We’re not just champions—we’re the standard of excellence. Teddy and Dutch are stepping into our ring, and they’re going to leave knowing they should’ve stayed on opposite sides of the roster.”
Darren grabs his belt from the bench and slings it over his shoulder.
Darren Starr:
“Let’s go remind everyone why we’re the best.”
The Starr Brothers exchange a confident nod before heading toward the entrance area. The camera lingers on their smug expressions as the scene fades out.
P:V Tag Team Championship Match
The Starr Brothers (c) vs. Teddy Rush and Dutch Ramirez
Backstage
Survival
The Starr Brothers, Darren and Simon, stand victorious in the center of the ring, their P:V Tag Team Championship belts raised high as the crowd rains down boos. Teddy Rush and Dutch Ramirez lie on the mat nearby, exhausted and defeated but still earning the admiration of the fans for their valiant effort. Rush and Ramirez slowly begin to stir, pulling themselves up using the ropes.
Zac Brindle:
“What a performance by Teddy Rush and Dutch Ramirez, but the Starr Brothers once again walk away with the gold!”
Johnny Kaos:
“Yeah, but give credit where it’s due, Zac. These two aren’t just champions—they’re smart champions. They did exactly what they needed to do to keep those belts.”
Suddenly, the boos from the crowd grow louder as Gabriel Cross storms down the ramp with a steel chair in hand. His eyes are locked on Rush and Ramirez, and his intent is clear.
Zac Brindle:
“Wait a minute! What is Gabriel Cross doing out here?!”
Johnny Kaos:
“This doesn’t look good for Rush and Ramirez!”
Before Rush and Ramirez can fully regain their footing, Cross slides into the ring and swings the chair with brutal precision, slamming it into Ramirez’s back. Ramirez crumples to the mat in pain. Rush turns, but Cross wastes no time delivering a second thunderous chair shot to his spine, sending him crashing down as well.
Zac Brindle:
“Come on! This is uncalled for!”
Johnny Kaos:
“It’s called making a statement, Zac! Gabriel Cross isn’t here to play games!”
The Starr Brothers, still holding their championship belts, burst into laughter at the vicious assault. Darren leans against the ropes, smirking, while Simon mockingly applauds Cross’s actions.
Darren Starr:
“That’s how you deal with wannabes!”
Simon Starr:
“Yeah, show them how it’s done, Cross!”
The crowd’s boos reach deafening levels as Cross stands tall over the fallen Rush and Ramirez, steel chair in hand. He exchanges a nod with the Starr Brothers, but it’s clear he’s operating on his own agenda. Cross raises the chair one more time, taunting the fans as the Starr Brothers exit the ring, still laughing at the chaos they’ve left behind.
Zac Brindle:
“This is disgusting! Teddy Rush and Dutch Ramirez gave it their all tonight, and now this? Gabriel Cross should be ashamed of himself!”
Johnny Kaos:
“Look, Zac, this is P:V. If you want to survive, you better stay out of Gabriel Cross’s way.”
The camera pans over the scene—Rush and Ramirez writhing in pain, the Starr Brothers smugly holding their belts on the ramp, and Gabriel Cross standing menacingly in the ring. The segment ends with the crowd’s boos echoing throughout the arena.
Backstage
Eternal
The camera cuts to the locker room of Hate Eternal, where Hate Watson, Masashi Miike, and Anderson Alvarez are gathered. Watson stretches his shoulders and smirks confidently as he prepares for his main event match against Caleb Knox. Miike and Watson, collectively known as The Gutter Gods, are seated nearby, polishing their IPWA Tag Team Championships. The atmosphere is intense yet smug, with the group feeding off their collective dominance.
Masashi Miike:
“Knox might be tearing through people, but he hasn’t faced anyone like you, Watson. He doesn’t stand a chance.”
Hate Watson:
“Of course he doesn’t. Tonight, I’ll remind everyone why Hate Eternal runs this place.”
The door swings open, and James Von Drake, the General Manager of P:V, steps in, his expression as stressed as ever. He looks at Miike and Alvarez, cutting through the tension in the room.
James Von Drake:
“Alright, Gutter Gods, listen up. I’ve got some news for you. After tonight, you’re on the first flight to London.”
Masashi Miike:
“London? What for?”
James Von Drake:
“You’ll be defending your IPWA Tag Team Championships at DW Collision Course on Monday night. Your opponents are ‘The Ultras’—they won the #1 contendership at the European Cup in Berlin a few nights ago. So pack your belts and get ready to show them why you’re the best.”
Miike and Watson exchange irritated looks, clearly not pleased by the announcement.
Anderson Alvarez:
“London? Are you kidding me? Why do we have to waste our time on some Euro-trash team?”
James Von Drake:
“Because that’s what champions do, Alvarez. You defend those belts, no matter where or against who. And trust me, The Ultras aren’t a team you want to underestimate.”
Masashi Miike:
“Great. Just what we needed. A long flight and a bunch of British fans who probably can’t even spell ‘Hate Eternal.’”
James Von Drake:
“Spare me the complaints. You’re champions—act like it. Now, focus on the match tonight and get your gear ready. I expect you to bring those belts back to P:V.”
Von Drake turns to leave, but Hate Watson stops him with a sly grin.
Hate Watson:
“Don’t worry about us, Von Drake. We’ll handle Knox tonight, and then we will handle The Ultras. Hate Eternal always gets the job done.”
Von Drake nods, unconvinced, and exits the room. Miike and Alvarez shake their heads, muttering under their breath as Watson finishes his stretches.
Anderson Alvarez:
“London better have decent food. I’m not eating crumpets and tea.”
Masashi Miike:
“And these ‘Ultras’? They’re just another team for us to destroy.”
Hate Watson:
“Exactly. Now shut up and focus. We’ve got a message to send tonight.”
The camera lingers on Hate Eternal, their confidence palpable despite their frustration, before cutting back to the arena.
Single Match
Caleb Knox vs. Hate Watson
Ringside
How Many More?
The crowd erupts into boos as Caleb Knox stands tall in the middle of the ring, sweat dripping from his brow but a smirk etched on his face. The fallen Hate Watson lies motionless at his feet, a victim of Knox’s ruthless streak. Knox grabs a microphone from ringside and slowly circles the ring, soaking in the hostile reaction from the fans.
Caleb Knox:
“Another one bites the dust. Another so-called ‘top star’ left lying in this ring, wondering what hit them. Adam Garcia. Elijah Drake. Masafumi Satake. And now, Hate Watson. Tell me, Miami—how many more of your heroes need to fall before you finally understand?”
The fans boo louder, with some chanting “You’re a coward!” Knox shakes his head, amused by their reaction.
Caleb Knox:
“‘Coward,’ huh? That’s rich coming from all of you. The real coward is James Von Drake! Yeah, Von Drake, I’m talking to you. I’ve dismantled your roster. I’ve proven that no one can touch me. And yet, you still refuse to do what everyone here knows is inevitable—crown me as the Heavyweight Champion.”
Knox leans against the ropes, staring into the hard camera.
Caleb Knox:
“How many more bodies do I have to leave in my wake? How much more suffering do I need to inflict before you admit it? You’re not protecting this company by denying me the title—you’re delaying the inevitable. So, Von Drake, here’s the deal. Either you do the right thing and give me what I deserve, or I’ll keep breaking your so-called ‘stars’ until there’s no one left to put in front of me.”
Knox drops the microphone with a thud and raises his arms, basking in the jeers of the crowd. As the boos continue to rain down, the screen suddenly cuts to the backstage office of James Von Drake.
Von Drake sits behind his desk, his hands clasped together in thought. The sound of the crowd’s disdain for Knox filters faintly through the office walls. The GM stares at the monitor, where Knox stands triumphant, and sighs deeply. His face reveals a mix of frustration, determination, and uncertainty.
James Von Drake:
“How many more, huh?”
Von Drake looks up, seemingly pondering his next move as the show fades to black with Caleb Knox still standing tall in the ring, his dominance undeniable.
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