P:V Uprising 125
📺 Live on the Sanctioned Violence Network
📍 Crimson Club Casino Arena, Atlantic City, NJ
📆 14th June 2025
—[Opening video package begins]—
Pulse-pounding music kicks in as the screen flashes with highlights from last week’s Uprising: Adam Garcia standing tall after his win over HyperNova… the intense staredown between PV Heavyweight Champion Masafumi Satake and tournament winner Caleb Knox… Cherry Bordeaux laughing alongside Henry Steele and the newly-aligned James Mendoza… and Jean Louis Duval’s cold warning to Garcia.
A graphic flashes:
🎲 Project Violence: UPRISING 125
📍 LIVE from the Crimson Club Casino Arena – Atlantic City, NJ
📅 June 14, 2025
🎥 Only on the Sanctioned Violence Network
Cut to the arena: the camera swoops over a red-hot Atlantic City crowd, pyro blasting from the stage as fans wave signs and chant.
ZAC BRINDLE:
“We are LIVE from the Crimson Club Casino Arena, and THIS is Uprising 125! I’m Zac Brindle, joined by the voice of chaos himself, Johnny Kaos—and partner, we’re on the road to Dance of the Damned!”
JOHNNY KAOS:
“That’s right, Zac! July 26th, the most twisted night of the PV calendar is coming—but tonight, the heat is already rising! We’ve got chaos, grudges, and gold all on the line in this powder keg of a show!”
ZAC BRINDLE:
“Let’s talk about this main event—‘Iron Heart’ Caleb Knox vs. ‘The Mad Bull’ Adam Garcia. Two men with nothing but momentum and fire behind them, and the winner sends a powerful message to Masafumi Satake heading into Dance of the Damned.”
JOHNNY KAOS:
“Caleb Knox is cold, calculating, and undefeated since Ascension. But Adam Garcia has been on a mission since he broke Elijah Drake and stared down Jean Louis Duval. This match is going to be violent, technical—and personal.”
ZAC BRINDLE:
“And speaking of Duval—he’s in action tonight against rising powerhouse Rex Stone, who’s been demanding a shot at the TV Championship. Duval’s ego won’t let him ignore a challenge, but he may regret stepping in the ring with the Stonewall.”
JOHNNY KAOS:
“Duval’s smart, Zac. He doesn’t take risks unless he’s got something planned. Stone better keep his head on a swivel with Royce Lacroix lurking.”
ZAC BRINDLE:
“Also tonight—James Mendoza makes his first singles appearance since turning on Dash Diaz, taking on the outlaw Dutch Ramirez. Will Mendoza prove he’s more than just Cherry Bordeaux’s muscle, or will the Biker take him on a long road to hell?”
JOHNNY KAOS:
“If Dutch doesn’t run him over, I’ll be shocked. That guy doesn’t forget betrayal, and Mendoza just painted a bullseye on his chest.”
ZAC BRINDLE:
“Tag team action too! The newly-crowned champions Anarchy Alliance go toe to toe with Masters of the Mat—can Rigg and Ellis keep the momentum going after shutting up the Starr Brothers?”
JOHNNY KAOS:
“They’d better. The tag division is heating up and the Masters want to remind everyone why they think they should be in contention for the belts themselves.”
ZAC BRINDLE:
“And we kick things off with Bernard Wolfe vs. Brandon Snyder—two men with something to prove and the skill to make waves in any division.”
JOHNNY KAOS:
“This ain’t just another episode of Uprising—it’s a proving ground for Dance of the Damned, and everyone wants a ticket to the main stage.”
The camera cuts to ringside as Bernard Wolfe’s entrance music hits.
ZAC BRINDLE:
“Let’s get to it. Uprising 125 starts—RIGHT NOW!”
[SHOW BEGINS]
Single Match
Bernard Wolfe vs. Brandon Snyder
Backstage
The camera fades in on the loading dock of the arena. The door swings open and in steps ‘The Mad Bull’ Adam Garcia, duffel bag over his shoulder, hoodie up, laser-focused expression on his face as he strides through the corridor. The crowd watching on the big screen pops with cheers.
Before he can get far, Elena Cruz—clutching her phone in one hand, selfie camera already rolling—rushes up beside him, heels clicking as she intercepts him with her usual social media energy.
ELENA CRUZ:
“Adam! Adam! Hold up, hold up—got a hot one for the timeline! Elena Cruz here, backstage with the man they call ‘The Mad Bull’—and Adam, tonight, you’re stepping into the main event with Caleb Knox. What’s running through your mind right now?”
Garcia stops, lowers his hood and glances at her briefly before looking dead into the lens. He’s calm—but intense.
ADAM GARCIA:
“Focused. Ready. Determined. Caleb Knox wants to prove he’s the future of Project Violence, but he’s looking past the wrong man. Tonight—he doesn’t face a tournament bracket. He faces a bull who doesn’t back down.”
The crowd cheers loudly again from the arena as Garcia’s voice hardens.
ADAM GARCIA:
“And if Caleb thinks I’m just another stepping stone to Masafumi Satake—he’s gonna find out real quick what happens when you step into the ring with someone who fights like he’s got nothing left to lose.”
Just as Elena starts to speak again, Garcia’s eyes narrow and his expression shifts. The camera pans slightly to reveal HyperNova and Royce Lacroix standing further down the corridor, arms crossed, leaning casually against the wall—smirking.
They don’t speak. They just watch. Cold. Calculating. Menacing.
Garcia steps forward slightly, locking eyes with the pair. The tension thickens. HyperNova gives a mocking little salute. Royce Lacroix grins and taps an invisible watch on his wrist—as if counting down the seconds until something worse is coming.
After a few long moments, they push off the wall and walk away, still smirking.
Garcia watches them go, jaw clenched.
ELENA CRUZ:
“…Well. That was weirdly intense. Adam, you—”
Garcia just throws the strap of his bag back over his shoulder and walks off without saying another word.
Cut to black as the crowd buzzes in anticipation.
Tag Team Match
Masters of the Mat vs. Anarchy Alliance
Ringside
The bell rings as Edwin Ellis rolls up George Lancaster for the three-count, and the crowd inside the Crimson Club Casino Arena erupts in cheers!
RING ANNOUNCER:
“Here are your winners… and still PV Tag Team Champions… Anarchy Alliance!”
“WAR CRY” hits the speakers as Stevie Rigg and Edwin Ellis regroup in the center of the ring, clutching their championship belts. Both men are battered, but defiant, raising the gold high into the air as the crowd gives them a warm ovation. Rigg mouths off to the camera, yelling “Still the best team in Project Violence!” as Ellis pounds his chest, nodding to the fans.
But the celebration is short-lived.
From behind, Mike Donovan and George Lancaster of the Masters of the Mat suddenly lunge back into the ring with rage in their eyes!
Johnny Kaos (on commentary):
“Oh come on! What the hell is this?!”
Donovan clubs Ellis in the back of the neck with a forearm, sending him sprawling to the mat. Lancaster grabs Rigg by the hair and throws him shoulder-first into the ring post with a sickening thud!
Zac Brindle (on commentary):
“They lost fair and square—and now this?! The Masters of the Mat have completely snapped!”
Lancaster and Donovan begin stomping down both champions in unison, as the crowd boos loudly. Edwin tries to fight back, swinging at Lancaster—but Donovan cracks him across the jaw with a knee strike. Rigg crawls toward his tag title belt, but Lancaster snatches it and smashes it across Rigg’s back!
The beatdown continues until several referees and officials rush down to the ring, trying to pull the furious challengers off the fallen champions.
Donovan is yelling:
MIKE DONOVAN (shouting):
“This ain’t over! You didn’t beat us, you escaped!”
Lancaster throws his hands up mockingly as he’s pulled away, grinning and pointing at the downed Rigg.
GEORGE LANCASTER:
“You’re holding our belts!”
The fans boo even louder, some throwing up thumbs-down signs as the Masters of the Mat retreat up the ramp, shouting and shoving away officials.
In the ring, Ellis and Rigg are left groaning in pain, clutching their bodies and the titles they fought to keep—victorious, but ambushed. The camera lingers on their battered faces as Zac Brindle solemnly calls it:
Zac Brindle:
“This war isn’t over, folks. Not by a long shot.”
Fade to black.
Backstage
The camera cuts to the backstage area of the Crimson Club Casino Arena, where Rex Stone is seen warming up for his big match tonight. He’s shadowboxing against a cinderblock wall, headphones around his neck, eyes locked in focused intensity. Sweat glistens on his brow as he moves with deliberate precision—completely dialed in.
Suddenly, the frame widens—and in steps the elegant, cunning, and ever-confident Katya Roux, manager of the reigning TV Champion, Midas. Dressed in a sleek black power suit, she struts into view with a smirk, her heels clicking deliberately on the concrete floor.
KATYA ROUX:
“Well, well, well… Monsieur Stone. So tense. So serious. I must say, it’s… alluring.”
Rex pauses, cracking his neck and giving her a sideways glance, unimpressed.
REX STONE:
“You lost? This locker room’s for competitors. Not mouthpieces.”
KATYA ROUX: (chuckling)
“Ohhh… sharp tongue. But don’t flatter yourself, chéri. I’m not here for idle chit-chat. I’m here on behalf of the Television Champion.”
Stone straightens up, crossing his arms, now fully listening.
KATYA ROUX:
“Midas heard your little outburst last week. All that bravado… all those demands. Very bold. Very… cute.”
She circles him slightly, twirling a strand of her hair as she continues.
KATYA ROUX:
“And while my client doesn’t take kindly to being called a coward, he does admire ambition. So here’s the deal, darling…”
She leans in closer, just enough to make it uncomfortable.
KATYA ROUX:
“Impress us tonight. Show us that you’re more than just bark. Show us that you belong in the same ring as a champion.And maybe, just maybe… you’ll get your little title match.”
She steps back with a wink, leaving Stone staring daggers into her retreating figure.
REX STONE: (muttering to himself)
“Hope Midas is watching real close… I don’t miss when I aim.”
Stone returns to his warm-up, now with even more fire in his eyes—as the camera cuts to black.
Single Match
Dutch Ramirez vs. James Mendoza
Ringside
The bell rings, and the fans roar in approval as Dutch Ramirez gets his hand raised by the referee after a hard-fought battle with James Mendoza. Mendoza rolls to the outside, clutching his ribs in frustration, while Cherry Bordeaux, at ringside, looks absolutely livid.
ZAC BRINDLE (commentary):
“He got him! Dutch Ramirez with a big-time win over Mendoza—he’s building momentum at just the right time!”
JOHNNY KAOS:
“But look at Cherry, Zac—she is not taking this well.”
In the ring, Dutch throws a fist in the air and slaps his chest, hyping up the crowd. Cherry Bordeaux, heels clicking furiously against the floor, storms around the ring barking instructions to Mendoza—then turns to the ramp and raises her arm with a sharp signal.
ZAC BRINDLE:
“Wait a second… what’s she doing now?!”
The fans begin to boo loudly as Henry Steele appears at the top of the ramp, storming toward the ring with fire in his eyes.
JOHNNY KAOS:
“Oh, come on! Of course. When Cherry doesn’t get what she wants, she calls in the sledgehammer!”
Steele charges down the ramp like a freight train. Inside the ring, Dutch Ramirez immediately clocks the situation—he locks eyes with Steele, quickly gauges the odds… and smirks. As Steele slides into the ring, Ramirez dips through the ropes and drops to the floor on the opposite side, narrowly avoiding a sneak attack.
ZAC BRINDLE:
“Smart move by Ramirez! He’s not walking into a three-on-one trap tonight!”
JOHNNY KAOS:
“He may be outnumbered, but he’s not outsmarted. Dutch saw that one coming from a mile away.”
Cherry is irate at ringside, shouting at Ramirez to come back and fight. Steele paces the ring like a caged animal, while Mendoza leans against the barricade trying to collect himself. Ramirez backs up the ramp, eyes locked on the trio with a defiant grin, tapping his temple to show he outwitted them.
The crowd chants “DUTCH! DUTCH! DUTCH!” as he raises a fist again.
ZAC BRINDLE:
“Dutch Ramirez walks out with the win, and maybe more importantly—he walks out still standing!”
JOHNNY KAOS:
“Cherry Bordeaux is building a wrecking crew—but Dutch Ramirez just reminded her he’s not so easy to break.”
The camera lingers on Ramirez at the top of the ramp, nodding confidently, before cutting to a furious Bordeaux and her faction regrouping in the ring.
Backstage
The camera cuts backstage to a velvet rope-lined interview area bathed in red and gold lighting. Elena Cruz, dressed stylishly with her phone in hand snapping a selfie, turns to the camera with a bright (and slightly performative) smile.
ELENA CRUZ:
“Heyyy fight freaks, it’s your girl Elena Cruz, and I am backstage with the man who won the Ascension Tournament and punched his ticket to the Dance of the Damned main event—‘Iron Heart’ himself, Caleb Knox.”
The camera pans to Caleb Knox, standing tall in a dark grey hoodie zipped to the neck, the tournament trophy strapped to his shoulder like a war prize. His expression is ice cold, his stare fixed straight ahead.
ELENA CRUZ (grinning nervously):
“Caleb, tonight you go one-on-one with ‘The Mad Bull’ Adam Garcia in our main event, but everyone’s talking about what’s on the horizon—your Heavyweight Championship match against Masafumi Satake. So tell the fans watching on the Sanctioned Violence Network… what’s your mindset heading into tonight?”
Knox slowly turns to face her. The silence lingers just long enough to feel heavy. Then, in a low, deliberate voice:
CALEB KNOX:
“My mindset? Same as always—break the man in front of me. Then break the one after him.”
He looks down briefly at the tournament trophy, then back into the camera.
CALEB KNOX:
“This—” tapping the metal with a knuckle “—was just the beginning. Adam Garcia’s a fighter. Tough. Proud. But pride makes people reckless. Tonight, he learns what it feels like to be dismantled, piece by piece.”
ELENA CRUZ:
“And Satake? What about the champ? He’s beaten legends. He’s respected all over the world—”
Knox cuts her off, voice colder now.
CALEB KNOX:
“Respect… doesn’t protect your ligaments. At Dance of the Damned, I’m not stepping into a war of honour. I’m stepping into a ring with a man who’s holding my title. Satake might be a legend—”
He tilts his head slightly, his tone turning sharp.
CALEB KNOX:
“—but legends end. I’ll make sure of it.”
Elena, slightly unsettled but trying to keep her composure, gives a smile back to the camera.
ELENA CRUZ:
“Well, there you have it. Ice cold words from a man with fire in his veins. Good luck tonight, Caleb—though it doesn’t sound like you think you’ll need it.”
Knox doesn’t reply. He just walks off camera, the tournament trophy still slung over his shoulder, leaving Cruz alone with the tension hanging in the air.
ELENA CRUZ (to camera, tapping her phone):
“Okayyy… that was intense. Don’t miss the main event, y’all—Garcia vs. Knox is going to be straight fire. Stay tuned!”
The segment ends with a dramatic shot of Knox walking down the hallway, shadows falling across his face.
Single Match
Jean Louis Duval vs. Rex Stone
Backstage
The scene fades in on a dimly lit private locker room. Gold-tinted lighting casts an eerie glow across the space, which is decorated with lavish Egyptian motifs—sandstone textures, ancient symbols, and a throne-like chair made of gold-painted steel.
Sitting upon that throne, silent and still, is the monstrous Midas—his face obscured behind his ornate black and golden mask, every inch of his frame oozing menace. He does not move, save for the slow rise and fall of his chest.
A large flat-screen monitor on the wall replays the end of the recent match between Rex Stone and Jean Louis Duval—specifically, the moment where Stone’s shoulders are pinned to the mat.
Standing nearby with her arms folded and a cigarette in one hand, the ever-stylish and always unimpressed Katya Rouxwatches the screen with a sour expression. She exhales sharply, flicking ash into a gold-plated tray.
KATYA ROUX:
sighing dramatically
“So… this is the man who dared to call you out?”
She tilts her head back and scoffs, then glances at Midas without even trying to hide her disdain.
KATYA ROUX (coldly):
“He can’t even survive Duval, and he thinks he’s ready for you? How… disappointing.”
Midas remains motionless for a moment. Then, slowly, he raises one massive, gloved hand—and with a contemptuous swipe, waves it at the monitor, as if wiping Rex Stone from existence. The gesture is chilling in its finality.
Katya smirks, nodding approvingly at the silent judgment.
KATYA ROUX (mocking):
“Maybe next time, Rex. Maybe after you grow a spine.”
She walks past Midas, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder as she does, her voice now a whisper just loud enough to hear.
KATYA ROUX:
“They’re all the same in the end. Mouths full of bravado… until the gold blinds them.”
The camera lingers on Midas—still unmoving, a silent god of wrath—as the screen behind him fades to black.
[Fade out.]
Single Match
Caleb Knox vs. Adam Garcia
Ringside
The bell rings loudly as the referee raises Caleb Knox’s hand in victory. The fans in the Crimson Club Casino Arena are booing furiously, their jeers echoing through the arena after the controversial ending to the night’s main event.
Knox, cold and composed, stands tall in the center of the ring—his face glistening with sweat, his eyes sharp with calculation. At his feet, Adam Garcia lies in the corner, clutching his ribs and glaring up the ramp with rage. Moments earlier, Jean Louis Duval had appeared out of nowhere, dragging the referee’s attention away just long enough for Knox to strike with a brutal low blow and seal the win.
Duval is nowhere to be seen now—his job done. But the damage is clear.
Garcia shouts out toward the ramp:
ADAM GARCIA (furious):
“DUVAL! You coward!”
The camera pans in close on Garcia, his face twisted with pain and fury.
In the center of the ring, Caleb Knox slowly raises the Ascension Tournament Trophy in one hand, and with the other, he gestures around his waist—signaling that he’s coming for the PV Heavyweight Championship. The crowd boos even louder.
ZAC BRINDLE (on commentary):
“Oh, come on! He had help! Duval just cost Garcia the biggest match of the summer!”
JOHNNY KAOS:
“Help or not, Zac, the record book says Caleb Knox just pinned Adam Garcia—and now he’s heading straight for Masafumi Satake at Dance of the Damned! Whether the fans like it or not.”
Knox climbs the turnbuckle and stares directly into the hard cam, his face cold and expressionless, mouthing the words:
CALEB KNOX (quiet but clear):
“Your time’s up, Satake.”
The screen suddenly splits—on one side, Knox standing tall in the ring, and on the other, a backstage shot of Masafumi Satake, the double champion, watching on a monitor. Satake’s expression is stone-faced, unwavering. The crowd roars at the sight of the champion.
ZAC BRINDLE:
“There he is—the man Caleb Knox will meet at Dance of the Damned! Satake looks ready… but he knows he’s got a war coming.”
Back in the ring, Knox drops down and picks up the Ascension trophy again, raising it high one last time as the show fades out with a final shot of Garcia still seething in the corner, Satake watching backstage, and Knox standing alone at the top of the mountain—for now.
[FADE TO BLACK]
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