PV Uprising 127
📺 Live on the Sanctioned Violence Network
📍 Crimson Club Casino Arena, Atlantic City, NJ
📆 28th June 2025

Cue intense visuals: Caleb Knox standing over Adam Garcia… Masafumi Satake holding both belts high… Duval smirking as Legion flanks him… Dash Diaz getting double-teamed by Henry Steele and James Mendoza… Midas staring menacingly into the camera while Katya Roux smirks… Rex Stone holding his fist high in defiance…

🎙️ Narrator (V.O.):

“With just weeks until Dance of the Damned 2025, the tension in Project Violence is boiling over. Allies are forged, grudges are deepening, and legacies are on the line…”

Fade into pyrotechnics as the Crimson Club Casino Arena comes alive with a packed house roaring with energy.

[Cut to Commentary Desk]

🎙️ Zac Brindle:

“Welcome, fight fans, to another blistering edition of PV Uprising, live from Atlantic City on the Sanctioned Violence Network! I’m Zac Brindle, joined as always by the unfiltered voice of chaos himself, Johnny Kaos.”

🎙️ Johnny Kaos:

“You want blood, betrayal, and brutal showdowns? You came to the right place! We’re officially weeks away from Dance of the Damned, and tonight’s card is stacked with matches that could shift the entire balance of Project Violence!”

🎙️ Zac Brindle:

“In tonight’s main event, the ever-dangerous Jean Louis Duval steps into the ring with Dutch Ramirez—a man who’s been standing tall lately, backing up Dash Diaz and racking up wins.”

🎙️ Johnny Kaos:

“Speaking of Diaz, he’s looking for momentum tonight against a debuting but dangerous man—Maverick Matthews. But don’t forget, Cherry Bordeaux’s crew is always lurking…”

🎙️ Zac Brindle:

“Also tonight—Rex Stone continues to chase that elusive TV Title shot as he collides with Brandon Snyder, who’s coming off a bitter loss and looking to rebound hard.”

🎙️ Johnny Kaos:

“Meanwhile, the Legion are back in tag team action against the Ordinary Gentlemen. I’d say pray for the Gentlemen, but even that might not be enough.”

🎙️ Zac Brindle:

“And in a battle of fan favorites—Teddy Rush faces Bernard Wolfe in what’s sure to be a respectful but hard-hitting clash!”

🎙️ Johnny Kaos:

“Let’s not forget the wider picture. Caleb Knox is laser-focused on Masafumi Satake’s PV Heavyweight Championship. Adam Garcia still wants to tear Duval apart. The tag division is heating up, and Midas… well, that monster might not be hiding for much longer.”

🎙️ Zac Brindle:

“The path to Dance of the Damned continues tonight, and it could be a career-defining one for more than a few of these competitors!”

🎙️ Johnny Kaos:

“Enough talk, let’s get violent!”

[Cue opening match graphic: Maverick Matthews vs. Dash Diaz – Up Next!]

The camera cuts to the entrance ramp as the crowd roars with anticipation…

PV UPRISING 127 officially begins.

---

Single Match
Maverick Matthews vs. Dash Diaz

---

Ringside

The crowd at the Crimson Club Casino Arena is electric as “The Standard” Dash Diaz stands tall in the center of the ring, catching his breath and soaking in the applause after a hard-fought victory over Maverick Matthews. His music blares through the speakers as he raises a fist to the cheering Atlantic City fans.

🎙️ Zac Brindle:

“What a win for Dash Diaz tonight! A performance full of grit and heart—he’s building momentum heading into Dance of the Damned!”

🎙️ Johnny Kaos:

“Yeah, but how long can he keep this up with those vultures circling…?”

Suddenly, the music cuts—

“Steel Fortress” hits the speakers, and the crowd erupts into boos as Cherry Bordeaux steps out onto the entrance ramp in her crimson stilettos, flanked by Henry Steele and James Mendoza, both dressed in black and gold with smug grins etched across their faces. Cherry holds a mic and motions for the crowd to quiet down, but they only boo louder.

📣 Cherry Bordeaux:

“Oh Dash, sweetheart… Look at you. Standing there, all sweaty and proud, like that win just meant something.”

(smirking)

“But all I see is a little boy playing hero in a war that’s already been lost.”

The fans rain down jeers, and Dash leans against the ropes, nodding slowly with a sarcastic smirk of his own, clearly unimpressed.

📣 Cherry Bordeaux (cont’d):

“You’ve got heart, darling. I’ll give you that. But at Dance of the Damned, heart won’t save you. Heart doesn’t stop steel, and it certainly won’t save you from the beating James and Henry are going to deliver.”

She turns toward her men, holding the mic up for James Mendoza, who takes a step forward, eyes locked on Diaz.

📣 James Mendoza:

“Dash… you keep trying to climb outta the hole we buried you in. But every time you do, we’re just gonna be there—shovels in hand—ready to throw dirt back in.”

📣 Henry Steele:

“You wanna play hero? You better find yourself a sidekick—fast. Because at Dance of the Damned, we’re coming two-on-one unless you can find someone—anyone—willing to stand beside you.”

Mendoza crosses his arms, and Cherry tosses her hair with an exaggerated laugh.

📣 Cherry Bordeaux:

“But let’s be real, Dash. Who’d be dumb enough to team up with you? You’re damaged goods, darling. You’ve been beaten, broken, betrayed. Just ask Mendoza how easy it was to walk away.”

Dash picks up a mic from ringside and leans over the top rope, staring the trio down with fire in his eyes.

🎤 Dash Diaz:

“You’re real brave from up there, Cherry. Real brave when you’ve got your dogs on leashes. But keep barking… I’ll find someone. Someone who isn’t afraid of you. And when I do? We’ll shut all three of you up—for good.”

The fans cheer as Dash throws the mic down defiantly. Steele and Mendoza step forward slightly—but Cherry extends her arm, holding them back with a smirk.

📣 Cherry Bordeaux (calling out):

“Tick tock, Dash. Let’s see if anyone’s foolish enough to stand beside a sinking ship.”

“Steel Fortress” plays again as the trio slowly back up the ramp, leaving Dash Diaz pacing in the ring, fired up and burning with resolve as the crowd rallies behind him.

🎙️ Zac Brindle:

“Dash Diaz has thrown down the gauntlet—now the question is, who’s gonna rise to the challenge and fight by his side?”

🎙️ Johnny Kaos:

“I don’t know, Zac. But one thing’s for sure—if he doesn’t find backup, Dance of the Damned could be his last stand.”

The camera lingers on Dash as he looks out into the crowd, ready for war, as we cut to commercial.

---

Single Match
Brandon Snyder vs. Rex Stone

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Ringside

The camera cuts to the backstage area of the Crimson Club Casino Arena, where Elena Cruz is already live-streaming on her phone for the Sanctioned Violence Network’s social media platforms. The glittery phone case sparkles under the hallway lights as Elena holds it high, adjusting her angle for maximum glamour.

📱 Elena Cruz:

(smiling at her screen)

“Okay, guys, we are live with so many of you joining right now—don’t forget to like, comment, and share because guess what? I’ve got a very special guest who just picked up a huge win over Brandon Snyder—ladies and gentlemen, Rex Stone!”

The camera pans as Rex Stone steps into frame, still breathing heavy from the match but focused and intense. Elena spins to face him—without lowering the phone—and smiles brightly.

📱 Elena Cruz:

“So, Rex, tell your fans—how does it feel to get that big W, and what’s next for the hottest rising star in Project Violence?”

Rex Stone:

(dryly)

“Elena, I’m not here to chase your likes—I’m here to chase gold. I’ve proven myself week after week, and I’m done waiting. Midas—”

The crowd watching on the monitors pop at the mention of the TV Champion’s name.

Rex Stone (cont’d):

“—you’ve been silent long enough. And your mouthpiece? She’s been doing all the talking, all the stalling. I’ve earned my shot, and I want it. I want that TV Title.”

📱 Elena Cruz:

(half-listening, still adjusting her camera)

“Oooh, spicy! You guys, Rex is going right for the champ! Tag Midas in the comments—let’s make it trend!”

Before Rex can respond, the live stream chat explodes as Katya Roux suddenly glides into frame from the side, dressed in black and gold with a cold smirk curling on her lips. Just behind her, looming in shadow but unmistakable, stands the mute, masked monster — Midas. Arms folded. Eyes locked on Rex. Silent. Menacing.

📱 Elena Cruz:

(gasping slightly)

“Oh! Speaking of trending—hi Katya! Hey Midas! So glad you could—”

Katya Roux:

(cutting her off, never looking at Elena)

“Shh.”

Elena blinks and immediately lowers the phone, chastised. Katya now turns her full attention to Rex Stone.

📣 Katya Roux:

“Rex, darling. You bark loudly, but barking doesn’t earn title shots. Dominance does. Excellence does. Perfection does.”

(She slowly glances back at Midas, who hasn’t moved an inch, his eyes burning holes into Rex.)

📣 Katya Roux (cont’d):

“You say you’ve earned something. But all you’ve proven is that you’re persistent. Annoying. Like a fly buzzing around the throne of a god.”

Rex Stone:

(stepping forward)

“I’m not a fly, Katya. I’m the guy who’s gonna break your golden monster’s streak. So go ahead—keep hiding behind riddles and silence. Eventually, you’ll run out of excuses.”

Katya Roux:

(laughing softly)

“Oh Rex. You poor, naive thing. You think silence means fear? Midas doesn’t need to speak. His dominance is spoken in broken ribs… in shattered pride… in every man who’s ever thought they were ‘the one’.”

(She leans in closer, her voice a venomous whisper.)

📣 Katya Roux:

“You are not in his league, Rex. You’re not the next chapter… You’re not even the footnote.”

Elena timidly raises her mic, trying to regain control of the segment.

📱 Elena Cruz:

“S-So, Midas, any comments for your fans? Maybe just a—”

Katya spins on her heel and glares at her. Elena immediately shrinks back, lowering the mic.

Katya Roux:

“No.”

With that, she snaps her fingers. Midas steps forward beside her, towering over Rex for a tense moment. The two stare down, the tension thick enough to slice through. Then, without a word, Midas and Katya walk off, leaving Rex standing tall—but clearly burning with frustration and determination.

🎙️ Zac Brindle (voice-over as the segment fades):

“If that wasn’t a statement from Katya Roux and Midas, I don’t know what is. But you’ve gotta believe, Rex Stone’s not backing down one inch.”

🎙️ Johnny Kaos:

“And if he keeps pushing… he might finally get what he wants. The real question is—does he really want it?”

Fade to black.

---

Tag Team Match
The Legion vs. Ordinary Gentlemen

---

Ringside

The match is over, and the camera pans around the Crimson Club Casino Arena as The Legion (HyperNova & Royce Lacroix) stand tall over the fallen Ordinary Gentlemen, their arms raised in victory. The fans boo loudly as the smug Frenchmen soak in the disdain, sneering at the Atlantic City crowd.

Suddenly, the lights dim. The arena buzzes with anticipation—

🎵 “WALK AMONG THE WRECKAGE” hits over the sound system.

The crowd erupts in cheers as the Project Violence Tag Team Champions, The Anarchy Alliance — Edwin Ellis and Stevie Rigg — step through the curtain wearing their signature leather jackets and holding their championship belts high.

They make their way to the ring with purpose, entering opposite The Legion who wisely exit to the floor to avoid conflict. The music fades as Edwin lifts a mic, his eyes locked on The Legion at ringside.

🎤 Edwin Ellis:

“Now that was adorable, fellas. Really. Two French imports slapping around two lads who’ve barely learned to lace their boots.”

The crowd laughs as HyperNova and Royce scowl.

🎤 Stevie Rigg:

“But this ring? This ain’t a catwalk in Paris — this is Project: Violence. And we are the Champions here because we fight anyone, anywhere, any time.”

Edwin nods, pacing the ring.

🎤 Edwin Ellis:

“We don’t duck smoke. We breathe it in. And next month at Dance of the Damned, we’re gonna do what we always do — step into that ring and make sure these belts stay right where they belong.”

Suddenly, a sharp string section cuts through the air—

🎵 “Symphony of Discipline” blares through the arena speakers.

The lights shift to gold as the sharply dressed Masters of the Mat — George Lancaster and Mike Donovan — walk onto the stage in perfectly tailored suits, their noses tilted upward as if they can smell the chaos and disapprove of it.

George Lancaster lifts a mic first, his voice dripping with disdain.

🎤 George Lancaster:

“Ah, yes… the Anarchy Alliance. A pair of scruffy vagabonds masquerading as champions. Charming.”

🎤 Mike Donovan:

“Let’s be clear, gentlemen. Mastery… wins championships. Precision. Strategy. Control. Not flannel shirts and barroom bravado.”

They begin to stroll halfway down the ramp, confidence oozing from every motion.

🎤 George Lancaster:

“You talk about breathing in smoke? We’ve studied under Olympic coaches, we’ve trained across three continents—”

🎤 Mike Donovan:

“—and come Dance of the Damned, we’re going to expose the truth. That you’re not champions. You’re just survivors. And your time is running out.”

The crowd jeers as the tension rises. Ellis and Rigg lean over the ropes, smirking as Edwin raises the mic again.

🎤 Edwin Ellis:

“Y’know what’s funny, George? All your ‘precision’ couldn’t stop us from beating you the last time.”

🎤 Stevie Rigg:

“And you two can quote all the mat-based doctrine you want — we’re not here to study. We’re here to fight. So when Dance of the Damned rolls around, bring your best holds and your fanciest robes…”

🎤 Edwin Ellis (cutting in):

“Just don’t forget to bring a couple of ice packs. You’re gonna need ‘em.”

The crowd roars with laughter and cheers as both teams lock eyes from a distance, each holding firm. No one makes a move — the tension is razor sharp but contained. The champions hoist their belts high in the air as “Walk Among the Wreckage” plays once again, and the Masters of the Mat slowly retreat up the ramp, their expressions calm but focused.

🎙️ Zac Brindle (on commentary):

“Talk about contrast, Johnny — chaos vs. control, brawlers vs. technicians… this tag team title match at Dance of the Damned is gonna be something else.”

🎙️ Johnny Kaos:

“And I can’t wait ‘til these two teams finally get to throw hands! That ring might not survive the clash!”

Fade to black.

---

Single Match
Teddy Rush vs. Bernard Wolfe

---

Backstage

The shot opens on the slightly shaky vertical frame of a phone camera. The backstage hallway of the Crimson Club Casino Arena buzzes faintly in the background. Social media-obsessed interviewer Elena Cruz holds her phone high with one hand, angling it to capture both herself and the looming presence beside her.

📱 Elena Cruz (cheerily, but a bit nervous):

“Hey hey everyone! Elena Cruz here live with none other than the man who won the Ascension Tournament and will be challenging for the Project: Violence Heavyweight Championship at Dance of the Damned… ‘Iron Heart’ Caleb Knox!”

The phone pans awkwardly as Elena angles it toward Caleb Knox, who stands in a sleeveless hoodie, his face glistening with sweat, jaw clenched, eyes focused like a blade. His hands are taped. His posture is still. Coiled. Dangerous.

📱 Elena Cruz (still trying):

“So Caleb, the fans are dying to know… how are you feeling heading into the biggest match of your career against Satake—?”

Knox slowly turns his head and stares into the lens. Elena’s voice trails off, visibly unnerved by the icy glare.

Caleb Knox (quiet, unwavering):

“You want a headline, Elena? Fine.”

He takes the phone from her hand — gently but firmly — and holds it at eye level. The image stabilizes, focused squarely on his intense expression. His tone remains calm, but there’s a tremor of thunder underneath.

🎤 Caleb Knox:

“I didn’t win Ascension to feel something. I don’t need glory. I don’t need the cheers. I need purpose.”

A pause. His voice tightens like a vice.

🎤 Caleb Knox:

“Satake walks to the ring with pride. Honor. Tradition. That’s beautiful. But none of it will save him.”

He inches closer to the camera, eyes like cold steel.

🎤 Caleb Knox:

“You’re looking at a man with no reverse gear. No hesitation. No conscience when the bell rings. I don’t stop. I don’t blink. I break people. It’s what I do. It’s why they call me ‘Iron Heart’.”

He scoffs, barely smirking.

🎤 Caleb Knox:

“Satake’s had his moment. A noble reign. But in less than a month, I carve my name into that championship. Permanently. And when I do… they’ll all forget the man who was champion.”

He lowers the phone and turns it back toward Elena, who’s now clearly uneasy, forcing a nervous smile as she carefully accepts it back.

📱 Elena Cruz (softly):

“…Well. You heard it here. Caleb Knox. Not holding back.”

Caleb walks off without another word. Elena watches him disappear down the corridor before turning the camera back to herself.

📱 Elena Cruz (still rattled):

“…Yeah. Okay. Uh, that was… intense. Stay tuned, you guys. Dance of the Damned is gonna be something.”

She quickly ends the stream, the camera fading to black as the tension lingers.

---

Single Match
Jean Louis Duval vs. Dutch Ramirez

---

Ringside

The crowd inside the Crimson Club Casino Arena is buzzing with frustration as the referee raises the hand of Jean Louis Duval, who just secured a controversial victory over Dutch Ramirez. Ramirez is still down, clutching his ribs, having been caught by a crafty low blow before the final pin.

Duval sneers, brushing imaginary dust off his tailored ring gear, then casually pulls a gold cigarette holder from his corner jacket and lights it with deliberate flair. The crowd boos thunderously as Duval smugly puffs, waving smoke toward the audience with theatrical elegance.

Zac Brindle (on commentary):

“This guy’s insufferable, Johnny.”

Johnny Kaos:

“But damn, he’s effective. Duval’s record speaks for itself.”

Duval demands a microphone and is handed one by a ringside attendant. He raises it slowly, savouring the moment as he strolls around the fallen body of Dutch Ramirez like a predator circling his prey.

🎤 Jean Louis Duval:

“Mon dieu… this is what you send me, America? Dutch Ramirez? This… roughneck? This cowboy with fists but no finesse?”

He scoffs and flicks ash from his cigarette onto the mat, to more furious boos.

🎤 Jean Louis Duval:

“I told you all… there is class, and then there is chaos. Technique over testosterone. Intelligence over instinct. Refinementover… whatever this is.”

He gestures with mock pity toward Ramirez.

🎤 Jean Louis Duval:

“And now, the next savage you wish to throw at me is Adam Garcia? Please.”

The crowd erupts in cheers at the mention of Garcia’s name.

🎤 Jean Louis Duval:

“Adam Garcia is not a wrestler. He is a brawler. A bull. An animal pretending to understand this sport.”

He smirks arrogantly, smoke curling around his words.

🎤 Jean Louis Duval:

“I will not stoop to dance with beasts. I will outthink them. Outsmart them. Outclass them. Adam Garcia is a storm with no direction. I am the calm — the control. And he, like everyone else, will kneel before—”

🎶 [“The Mad Bull” Adam Garcia’s music hits! The crowd explodes!] 🎶

Duval’s eyes widen slightly before hardening into a smirk. Moments later, Adam Garcia storms out from the back like a bat out of hell, fists clenched, jaw tight, no mic, no patience. He marches toward the ring with purpose, his eyes locked on Duval like a bull locked on a matador.

Zac Brindle:

“Garcia’s heard enough! Here comes the Mad Bull!”

Duval immediately tosses the mic aside and rolls out the opposite side of the ring, still holding his cigarette. He backs up the ramp, calm as ever — and that’s when The Legion appear from the curtain: HyperNova and Royce Lacroix, blocking Garcia’s path.

Garcia slides into the ring, veins bulging in his neck as he paces furiously, yelling toward the ramp. He dares Duval to fight. Duval smirks, shrugs, and hides behind his muscle, exhaling another puff of smoke.

Garcia grabs the top rope and leans over it, pointing toward Duval and shouting in Spanish — full of rage, full of fire. The fans chant his name, urging him to tear through the Legion.

Johnny Kaos:

“This is boiling over, Zac! Garcia is gonna snap!”

Duval holds his arms out mockingly like a French aristocrat at court, then laughs and slowly retreats up the ramp, The Legion flanking him like royal guards.

Garcia stands alone in the ring, fists trembling, eyes burning a hole through Duval — and Duval, in turn, laughs down at him as the show goes off the air.

Zac Brindle:

“It’s only a matter of time before these two collide. And when they do… something’s going to break.”

The final shot is Garcia seething in the ring, Duval smug at the top of the ramp — war on the horizon.

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