P:V Uprising 122
📺 Live on the Sanctioned Violence Network
📍 Crimson Club Casino Arena, Atlantic City, NJ
📆 17th May 2025
[CAMERA OPENS TO A WIDE SHOT OF THE CRIMSON CLUB CASINO ARENA — THE CROWD IN ATLANTIC CITY IS ON FIRE!]
[PYRO EXPLODES ON STAGE AS THE UPRISING THEME PLAYS LOUDLY OVER THE SPEAKERS]
[CUT TO COMMENTARY DESK: ZAC BRINDLE & JOHNNY KAOS ARE STANDING BY, AMPED UP]
Zac Brindle:
Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to PV UPRISING 122 — we are LIVE from the Crimson Club Casino Arena in the heart of Atlantic City, New Jersey, and it’s the FINAL stop on the road to ASCENSION! I’m Zac Brindle alongside Johnny Kaos, and tonight… everything changes!
Johnny Kaos:
Zac, next week is the big one, the pay-per-view, the reckoning — but tonight? Tonight is the last chance to shape the battlefield! Semi-finals in the Ascension Tournament, a war in the tag team division, and Adam Garcia is out for blood — this show is gonna be chaos in the best way!
Zac Brindle:
Two tournament matches tonight will decide who’s going to Ascension with a shot at immortality — will it be the unbreakable Caleb Knox or the fast-rising Dash Diaz? And can Dutch Ramirez finally shut up Danny Domino and punch his ticket to the final?
Johnny Kaos:
Plus, the Anarchy Alliance and the Masters of the Mat are going to tear it down in tag team battle. That’s going to be straight-up anarchy — no pun intended!
Zac Brindle:
Henry Steele is back in action too, with Cherry Bordeaux breathing down everyone’s neck, and in our main event, The Mad Bull Adam Garcia goes one-on-one with the bruiser Boyd Jackson. And you know Elijah Drake will be watching that one from somewhere…
Johnny Kaos:
And don’t forget, the Project Violence Heavyweight Champion Masafumi Satake is watching his back as Jean Louis Duval lurks in the shadows — those two are on a collision course for next week and it’s going to explode!
Zac Brindle:
Strap in, folks. We are one week away from Ascension, and tonight? EVERYTHING is on the line. This is UPRISING 122… and it starts RIGHT NOW!
[CUT TO THE RING AS THE FIRST MATCH GRAPHIC — “CALEB KNOX VS. DASH DIAZ” — FLASHES ON SCREEN]
[THE CROWD ERUPTS]
[FADE TO BLACK AS THE MATCH BEGINS…]
Ascension Tournament Semi Final Match
Caleb Knox vs. Dash Diaz
Ringside
The crowd at the Crimson Club Casino Arena rises to its feet, roaring with appreciation as the bell rings to end an instant classic. “Iron Heart” Caleb Knox stands victorious, breathing heavily, sweat pouring down his face after an absolute war with fan-favorite Dash Diaz.
Both men lock eyes across the ring. No words are exchanged, just a quiet nod of mutual respect — forged through thirty minutes of punishment and perseverance. The fans begin a respectful chant:
“THAT WAS AWESOME! clap clap clap-clap-clap
“THAT WAS AWESOME!”*
Caleb Knox raises a fist briefly, acknowledging the crowd — but not playing to them. Dash Diaz begins to rise, clutching his ribs but still defiant, as the crowd claps him to his feet…
Suddenly—
BOOOOOOOOOO!!
The camera swings to the ramp as Cherry Bordeaux appears, microphone in one hand and that trademark smirk on her face. At her side, the imposing figure of Henry Steele — the “Steel Fortress” — marches with silent intensity.
Cherry Bordeaux (yelling over the noise):
“Oh no, no, no. Nobody cares about handshakes and little moments, Dash. What these people came to see… is violence!”
Cherry points dramatically toward the ring.
Cherry Bordeaux:
“Henry. Break him.”
Without hesitation, Henry Steele slides into the ring like a missile — and BLINDSIDES DASH DIAZ with a vicious lariat that flips him inside out! The crowd explodes in boos as Diaz crumples to the mat. Caleb Knox pauses mid-ramp, halfway to the back, turning to watch the assault unfold.
Steele mounts Diaz and hammers him with heavy forearm shots. Cherry climbs the steps, applauding her monster from the apron.
Inside the ring, Diaz tries to fight back, but Steele DRILLS him with a brutal spinebuster. Cherry shouts instructions from ringside.
The camera cuts to Caleb Knox, still watching. He takes one step toward the ring…
…then stops.
He exhales, shakes his head slightly, and walks away — disappearing through the curtain without a word, his focus already on the tournament final next week.
Back in the ring, Steele stands tall over the battered body of Dash Diaz as Cherry Bordeaux joins him, raising his arm in the air like a trophy. The fans boo relentlessly, but the message has been sent loud and clear.
Zac Brindle (on commentary):
“This was supposed to be Dash Diaz’s moment… but instead, Henry Steele just stole the spotlight in brutal fashion!”
Johnny Kaos:
“And Caleb Knox? Didn’t lift a finger to stop it. Cold as ice, Brindle.”
The camera lingers on Cherry and Steele soaking in the chaos as the show fades to black on the image of Diaz broken in the center of the ring.
Backstage
The camera cuts to a backstage interview set at the Crimson Club Casino Arena, where the ever-energetic and social-media obsessed Elena Cruz stands with her phone already live-streaming to her followers. Beside her, in a leather jacket with an arrogant smirk plastered across his face, is none other than “The Bully” Danny Domino, a proud representative of sVo.
Elena Cruz:
📱“Heyyy Violence Nation! It’s your girl Elena Cruz, coming to you live from backstage at Uprising 122 — and I’m here with a man who just loves to stir the pot, Danny Domino! Danny… big match tonight against Dutch Ramirez in the Ascension Tournament Semi-Finals. What’s going through your head?”
Danny Domino (grinning smugly):
“What’s going through my head? Destiny, Elena. See, tonight… I punch my ticket to the finals. And next week? I win this whole damn thing and do what nobody in that locker room thinks I can do — become only the second man in history to hold both the sVo Championship and the Project Violence Heavyweight Title. That’s not just history, sweetheart — that’s legacy.”
He straightens his collar, radiating arrogance as he turns slightly toward the camera.
Danny Domino:
“But let’s be real, before I take my rightful place in the final… I get to do something even sweeter.”
He sneers, eyes narrowing.
Danny Domino:
“I get to end Dutch Ramirez. The fake tough guy. The biker with a chip on his shoulder and no gas in the tank. Dutch… you’ve been barking for weeks, but now it’s time for me to shut you up. Permanently.”
Elena Cruz (half-smiling, glancing at her phone):
“Ooooh, my feed is blowing up right now. The fans are fired up, Danny! Anything else you want to say to them?”
Danny Domino:
“Yeah. Watch closely. Because after tonight, there’ll be one less pretender left in this tournament — and one step closer to The Bully ruling two empires. I’m not just here to win. I’m here to take over.”
He smirks again and storms off the set with swagger, leaving Elena looking wide-eyed at the camera.
Elena Cruz:
📱“Okayyyy, that just happened! Catch Danny Domino vs. Dutch Ramirez tonight on the Sanctioned Violence Network. It’s gonna be messy! 💅💥”
Backstage
The office door flies open with a loud BANG as the Masters of the Mat—George Lanchester and Mike Donovan—storm in, smug and frustrated in equal measure. Lanchester adjusts his designer sunglasses while Donovan tosses a water bottle across the room.
George Lanchester:
“Von Drake! What the hell is this? We beat the Anarchy Alliance tonight, and we’re still not guaranteed a tag title shot? That’s criminal!”
Von Drake, already looking exhausted, barely gets a word in before Mike Donovan points across the room.
Mike Donovan:
“You’ve got them in here already lobbying for another handout?”
The camera pans slightly to reveal Anarchy Alliance — Stevie Rigg and Edwin Ellis — standing across from the desk. Rigg folds his arms, calm but defiant. Ellis just smirks.
James Von Drake:
“You’re all here, perfect. Let’s make this simple. Whoever wins tonight… gets the Starr Brothers at Ascension. End of story.”
The Masters of the Mat nod smugly, but George leans in, pointing a finger toward Ellis.
George Lanchester:
“It’s about time. When we beat you tonight, we’re taking our rightful place at the top of this division — and the Starrs won’t know what hit ’em.”
Stevie Rigg steps forward, cool as ever.
Stevie Rigg:
“Funny thing is… we agree with you, George. Whoever wins tonight should get the shot.”
Ellis chimes in, cocky grin on his face.
Edwin Ellis:
“Only problem is, it ain’t gonna be you.”
There’s a tense stare-down as the two teams glare at each other, the tension so thick you could cut it with a blade.
Von Drake:
“Save it for the ring, boys. Now get the hell out of my office — all of you.”
Both teams turn and walk out, brushing shoulders on the way. The match is set, and the stakes are sky-high.
[FADE OUT.]
Ascension Tournament Semi Final Match
Danny Domino vs. Dutch Ramirez
Ringside
The crowd inside the Crimson Club Casino Arena is on their feet, the noise deafening. The referee raises the arm of Dutch Ramirez, who stands tall in the center of the ring, having just scored a hard-fought victory over his bitter rival Danny Domino in the Ascension Tournament Semi-Final.
The bell has long rung, but Danny Domino is still on his knees in disbelief, his face twisted in rage and humiliation. The fans are loving it, chanting:
Crowd:
“YOU GOT BEAT! YOU GOT BEAT!”
Ramirez walks to the corner, climbing the second rope and throwing a fist in the air, the Atlantic City faithful roaring in approval. He slaps his chest and points directly to the camera, mouthing the words:
Dutch Ramirez:
“One more to go!”
Domino slaps the mat in frustration, shaking his head. He argues with the referee, screaming that it was a fast count, that it was rigged, that it doesn’t count — but nobody’s buying it. The ref ignores him, and the fans drown him out with chants of:
Crowd:
“CRY-BABY DOMINO! CLAP CLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP!”
Ramirez turns to see Domino throwing a tantrum and lets out a small smirk. He walks past Domino and leans down just enough to pat him on the shoulder in mock sympathy.
Dutch Ramirez (grinning):
“Guess that dream of yours just hit the pavement, huh?”
The crowd pops as Domino fumes and tries to lunge at Dutch — but Ramirez is already halfway up the ramp, raising his fists in triumph.
Up on the stage, Caleb Knox walks out, his usual cold, intense expression locked in place. The crowd buzzes as the two finalists lock eyes — Dutch Ramirez vs. Caleb Knox next week in the Ascension Tournament Final.
Ramirez nods with a grin. Knox doesn’t move a muscle. The show fades out with the two men staring each other down under the lights, the fans chanting:
Crowd:
“LET’S GO DUTCH! LET’S GO KNOX!”
Backstage
The scene opens backstage at the Crimson Club Casino Arena, where the ever-buzzing Elena Cruz stands in front of the Project Violence backdrop, flashing a perfectly filtered smile for the Sanctioned Violence Network feed.
Elena Cruz:
“Okayyy, Uprising fans! I’m here with the man of the moment, the TV Champion, and the guy who somehow always manages to find trouble on the road—‘The Wayward Traveller’ Bernard Wolfe!”
The camera pulls back to reveal Bernard Wolfe, the PV TV Championship draped over his shoulder. He looks tired but proud, his eyes shaded by his signature worn leather jacket and travel-worn demeanor. There’s a fresh intensity in his expression—he’s clearly been through a storm these last few weeks.
Elena Cruz:
“Bernard, last week you evened the score with Elijah Drake in a brutal showdown. But now, with only a week left before Ascension, you’ve got another challenge ahead—your old rival Midas, who’s been hunting you ever since you took that title. Tell us, how are you feeling heading into this one?”
Wolfe pauses for a moment, adjusting the belt on his shoulder. His voice is calm, but firm.
Bernard Wolfe:
“Elena, these last few weeks have been hell. Elijah Drake pushed me to my limit—twice. He’s a legend for a reason. But I walked out with this title still over my shoulder, and that means something.”
He taps the center plate of the TV Championship.
Bernard Wolfe:
“Midas? He’s been lurking in the shadows, waiting, sending messages through Katya, trying to shake me. I get it—he wants his rematch. He wants to prove he never should’ve lost this in the first place.”
He leans in just slightly, his tone sharpening.
Bernard Wolfe:
“But next week, at Ascension, there are no shadows. No sneak attacks. Just one match… one result. I walk in as champion. And I walk out the same way. Because this isn’t just a title—it’s the journey I’ve fought for every damn step of the way.”
Elena raises an eyebrow as Wolfe finishes, clearly impressed.
Elena Cruz:
“So you’re saying…?”
Bernard Wolfe:
“I’m saying this is it for Midas. After next week? He’s headed straight to the back of the line.”
Wolfe gives a nod to the camera and walks off without another word. Elena watches him go, quickly turning back to the lens with her signature smirk.
Elena Cruz:
“Well, there you have it folks! The champ is focused, fired up, and ready to send Midas packing. But will the ‘Wayward Traveller’ survive one last detour? Find out next week at Ascension, only on the Sanctioned Violence Network!”
Tag Team Championship #1 Contenders Match
Anarchy Alliance vs. Masters of the Mat
Ringside
The crowd at the Crimson Club Casino Arena is electric as the bell rings and Anarchy Alliance—Edwin Ellis and Stevie Rigg—have their hands raised in victory. The fan-favourite duo just defeated the Masters of the Mat in a hard-fought match to officially become the number one contenders for the PV Tag Team Championships at Ascension.
Ellis and Rigg soak in the cheers from the Atlantic City crowd, slapping hands with fans at ringside and throwing up their signature “Anarchy” symbol to the cameras.
Zac Brindle (on commentary):
“What a win for Anarchy Alliance! They’ve scratched and clawed their way back from injury and setbacks, and next week they get their shot at redemption!”
Johnny Kaos:
“Don’t get too excited, Brindle. The Starr Brothers aren’t losing to these scruffy punks. No way.”
Suddenly, the lights dim slightly and the crowd’s cheers turn to loud boos as the PV Tag Team Champions, Darren and Simon Starr, strut out onto the entrance ramp in matching designer ring jackets and the titles gleaming around their waists. Each holds a microphone, smirking arrogantly at the ring.
Darren Starr:
“Well, well, well… look at what the cat dragged in.”
Simon Starr:
“The so-called Anarchy Alliance. You two actually think beating a couple of washed-up grapplers like Masters of the Mat means you’re ready for the big leagues?”
Darren Starr:
“You’re riding high now, fellas—but let’s not forget, when it actually mattered last time, we embarrassed you.”
Simon Starr:
“And at Ascension, we’re going to do it again. Only this time? We do it with the world watching. With the gold on the line. And when it’s all said and done?”
Darren Starr:
“You’ll be right back where you belong. Licking your wounds, blaming the system, while the Starr Brothers shine bright like champions should.”
The fans boo loudly as the champions smirk and hold up their titles high in the air. In the ring, Ellis and Rigg stare them down, not backing down an inch.
Stevie Rigg (shouting from the ring):
“Talk all you want, boys. Next week, the talking stops. The fighting begins.”
Edwin Ellis:
“See you at Ascension. Hope you packed your bags… because that gold’s coming home with us.”
The staredown continues as the crowd roars in anticipation of the title clash next week. The camera lingers on the intense visual—Anarchy Alliance fired up in the ring, the smug champions on the ramp—as PV Uprising 122 rolls on toward its explosive finale.
Backstage
The camera cuts to the backstage interview zone at the Crimson Club Casino Arena, where Elena Cruz stands with her ever-present phone in hand, already streaming to her followers on PV’s social channels.
Elena Cruz (smiling into the camera):
“Heyyy besties! It’s your girl Elena Cruz, and I’m here with the man everyone is talking about ahead of next week’s huge Ascension PPV… the one and only Legendary Elijah Drake!”
The camera pans to reveal Elijah Drake, dressed in a sleek designer suit jacket over a custom “LEGENDARY” t-shirt. He adjusts his cuffs, sneers confidently, and glares into the camera.
Elijah Drake:
“Next week… the world gets reminded of exactly who I am.”
He takes a slow step forward, voice calm but laced with venom.
Elijah Drake:
“Adam Garcia wants revenge? He wants to play the hero? Sorry, amigo—this isn’t a fairy tale. This is my story. And at Ascension, I finish writing the chapter on the ‘Mad Bull.’”
Elena tilts her head, clearly loving the drama.
Elena Cruz:
“You’ve promised to make him tap out in front of the whole world. That sounds personal.”
Elijah Drake:
“Oh, it is personal. Garcia embarrassed me. He cost me a championship, tried to play the moral saviour of Project Violence. But all he did was wake up the beast.”
Drake stares into the camera lens with laser focus.
Elijah Drake:
“So next week, no more brawls. No sneak attacks. Just me, him, and a submission match. And I promise—when I stretchhim in the middle of that ring and he’s clawing for the ropes? Crying out for mercy? That’ll be the moment everyone sees the truth…”
He leans in closer, voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.
Elijah Drake:
“I’m the biggest name to ever walk through these doors. And after Ascension? I’ll be the only name that matters.”
Drake flashes a smug smile, brushing past Elena and out of frame as the fans watching on the screen in the arena boo loudly.
Elena Cruz (smirking at the camera):
“Well… that was intense. Don’t miss Ascension, besties. It’s going to be legendary.”
Single Match
Henry Steele vs. Chopper Anderson
Ringside
The bell rings and the referee raises Henry Steele’s arm in victory after a dominant showing against Chopper Anderson. The fans boo loudly as Steele stands tall, breathing heavily, while the cocky and commanding Cherry Bordeaux climbs into the ring in heels and a fitted blazer, microphone in hand.
Cherry Bordeaux:
“THAT’S what happens when you overlook the Steel Fortress! Another week, another body on the mat!”
She walks over and leans over Anderson’s fallen body with disgust.
Cherry Bordeaux:
“But we’re not done yet. Henry—send a message. To Dash Diaz. To James Von Drake. To everyone in Project Violence!”
Steele cracks his neck, grits his teeth, and steps forward to grab Anderson again, ready to inflict more punishment—
🎶 Cue a pop from the crowd as the music of Dash Diaz hits! 🎶
The fan-favourite sprints down the ramp, steel chair in one hand and microphone in the other. He slides into the ring and Steele immediately backs off slightly, eyeing the chair warily as Cherry yells at him to hold his ground.
Dash Diaz (raising the mic):
“Hey! That’s enough! I’ve had it with you, Henry. You wanna jump me last week after I went to war? You wanna act like a monster? Then how about this…”
The fans begin to buzz with excitement as Dash steps forward, chair in one hand, fire in his eyes.
Dash Diaz:
“You and me. One on one again. Ascension. Let’s see if you’re still a fortress when someone comes straight at you!”
The crowd roars. Cherry smirks and slowly raises the microphone.
Cherry Bordeaux:
“Dash, sweetheart, you just made the biggest mistake of your life. You’re on. But don’t come crying to the fans when Henry Steele breaks you in half and buries your little ‘Standard’ under the rubble.”
Henry Steele glares at Diaz as Cherry tosses the mic down. Dash readies the chair in case of an attack, but Steele just points at him and mouths, “Next week,” before backing away with Cherry as the crowd cheers.
The camera focuses on Diaz standing tall in the ring, pointing the chair at Steele as the fans chant “DASH! DASH! DASH!” and Uprising goes to a commercial.
Single Match
Adam Garcia vs. Boyd Jackson
Ringside
The bell rings and the crowd rises to their feet, cheering as “The Mad Bull” Adam Garcia pushes himself up from the mat, exhausted but victorious after a gruelling battle with Boyd Jackson. The referee raises Garcia’s hand, sweat dripping down his face, as he slowly climbs the turnbuckle and throws both arms into the air.
The fans chant:
“GA-RCI-A! GA-RCI-A!”
Garcia nods, chest heaving, soaking in the adoration of the Crimson Club Casino Arena crowd. But suddenly…
🎵 The music shifts. 🎵
Boos erupt from the stands as Elijah Drake steps out onto the entrance ramp, dressed sharp in a black button-down and slacks, a smug expression plastered on his face. He’s mock clapping, slowly and sarcastically, his eyes locked on Garcia in the ring.
Zac Brindle (commentary):
“There he is! The man who’s made Adam Garcia’s life a living hell over the past month—and next week, it all comes to a head!”
Johnny Kaos:
“This one’s personal. And after what Garcia’s been through tonight, you know he’s chomping at the bit to get his hands on Drake!”
Garcia steps down off the turnbuckle, grabbing a towel from the corner and wiping his face before tossing it aside. His eyes lock with Drake’s across the arena. The fans simmer with anticipation, the tension thick. Not a single word is spoken. Just a long, cold, burning stare.
Drake slowly lifts his hand and draws a line across his waist—then points to Garcia, mouthing something the cameras can’t quite catch. Garcia doesn’t flinch. He just nods once, and then raises a clenched fist high into the air as the crowd erupts again.
Zac Brindle:
“No more games. No more sneak attacks. No more cheap shots. Next week—submission match. Drake vs. Garcia. Someone’s tapping out… and something tells me it’s not going to be the Mad Bull!”
With one final stare, Elijah Drake smirks and turns, disappearing backstage as the final image is that of Adam Garcia standing tall in the ring, eyes full of fire, as Uprising fades to black and the screen reads:
“NEXT WEEK – ASCENSION”
ADAM GARCIA vs. ELIJAH DRAKE
SUBMISSION MATCH
Backstage
The camera cuts to the plush, wood-panelled office of General Manager James Von Drake, who stands behind his desk, flanked on either side by the two finalists of the Ascension Tournament.
To the left stands ‘Iron Heart’ Caleb Knox—stoic, arms crossed, a cold intensity in his eyes. On the right, ‘The Biker’ Dutch Ramirez leans back in his chair, relaxed but alert, his leather jacket still on, eyes locked on his opponent across the desk.
James Von Drake:
“Gentlemen, thank you for coming. Next week, live on Pay-Per-View at Ascension, you will face each other in the final of the Ascension Tournament. And as I’m sure I don’t need to remind either of you—whoever wins that match earns a shot at the Project Violence Heavyweight Championship.”
Von Drake places a thick contract on the desk between them and slides it forward.
James Von Drake:
“This is your official contract for the final. Sign it, and make it official.”
Dutch Ramirez smirks and steps forward first, grabbing a pen off the desk.
Dutch Ramirez:
“You know, Caleb… I don’t like you. You walk around here like the whole place owes you something. You think because you call yourself Iron Heart, you’ve got this tournament won already. But next week? You’re gonna learn that some of us had to earn every inch the hard way.”
He signs the contract with a flourish, slamming the pen down before staring across the desk at Knox.
Dutch Ramirez:
“See you in the ring, tough guy.”
Knox slowly approaches the table, eyes never leaving Ramirez. He picks up the pen in silence and signs without a word. As he finishes, he sets the pen down deliberately, then lifts his eyes to meet Ramirez’s with a smirk of his own.
Caleb Knox:
“You think this is about swagger? About walking around like I’m owed something? No, Dutch. I’m not owed a damn thing… but I’m taking everything.”
He leans in slightly.
Caleb Knox:
“You might be the fan favorite. But when that bell rings… you’re just another man in my way.”
Von Drake quickly steps in as the tension builds.
James Von Drake:
“Alright! Save it for next week, gentlemen. This match is official. Ramirez vs. Knox. One of you walks out with a title shot… the other walks out with nothing.”
Dutch and Knox stare each other down, the crowd audibly buzzing in the background as the shot fades to black with the Ascension logo rising in the corner.
Ringside
The lights in the Crimson Club Casino Arena dim slightly as the iconic music of Masafumi Satake hits to a thunderous ovation. The Project: Violence Heavyweight Champion steps onto the stage with poise and purpose, his title belt strapped tightly around his waist. Clad in his signature ring jacket, Satake bows respectfully to the crowd before making his way to the ring.
He climbs through the ropes and is handed a microphone. The fans chant his name as he takes a moment to soak in the atmosphere. His eyes are focused, his expression calm—but determined.
Masafumi Satake:
“All my life I’ve been searching for something… a feeling of fellowship and acceptance. I have finally found that—with Project: Violence.”
The crowd erupts in applause. Satake places a hand on the PV Championship belt, tapping it gently.
Masafumi Satake:
“Every time I step inside that ring, my heart is filled with pride. These fans… you… deserve the best. And that is what I give you—every single time.”
The cheers grow louder, as Satake’s tone grows sharper.
Masafumi Satake:
“Jean Louis Duval… you are a fraud and a coward. You’ve already taken one thing from me. But no more. Never again.”
Suddenly, the crowd’s cheers turn to boos as classical French music begins to play. Out struts Jean Louis Duval, the International Heavyweight Champion, in a designer blazer and scarf, sunglasses on despite the indoor lighting. He carries his title over one shoulder, soaking in the jeers with smug delight.
Duval steps into the ring with a microphone, smirking at Satake.
Jean Louis Duval:
“Mon ami, I beat you once… and I will do it again. And this time, I will walk away with both of these belts. The PV Championship deserves class. It deserves elegance. It deserves… me.”
The boos get louder, but Satake steps forward, not backing down an inch.
Masafumi Satake:
“You say you will beat me again? You seem very confident – Then why not put your International Heavyweight Championship on the line, Duval?”
The crowd erupts with cheers. Duval raises an eyebrow, clearly caught off-guard. He hesitates. Satake stares him down.
Masafumi Satake:
“Unless… you are afraid.”
CUE THE CHANTS:
“CHICKEN! CHICKEN! CHICKEN!”
Duval scowls at the crowd, visibly rattled, before finally raising his mic with disdain.
Jean Louis Duval:
“Fine. You want it all? You want to lose everything in one night? Then oui, Satake. I accept. My title is on the line too.”
Satake and Duval step forward, going nose to nose. The crowd is roaring. Both men slowly raise their respective championship belts high into the air, the tension reaching a fever pitch as the screen fades to black and the final tagline flashes:
“ASCENSION – ONE WEEK AWAY. WINNER TAKES ALL.”
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