HCW Voltage, 7/6 – “A Call from the Shadows” (originally recorded 7/5 – character used with permission from NPCW)
The screen flickers to static. A soft chime, then the frame resolves into shadows and candlelight. A rotary phone rings in a grand, dimly lit study. Count Vlad Dragomir—draped in velvet and half-light—leans forward, lips curling as he answers.
COUNT VLAD (smooth, amused)
“Mistress Tynell. What a rare pleasure. Or is this merely another beautifully wrapped warning?”
MISTRESS TYNELL (on the line, voice silk and precision)
“You always did answer like you were expecting me, Vlad. I assume solitude hasn’t softened your arrogance.”
COUNT VLAD
“Arrogance is for the untested. I prefer... certainty.”
MISTRESS TYNELL
“Then you may appreciate a certain development. Sherlock Holmes came to us. He spoke with Ardan.”
Vlad pauses, swirling his wine slowly.
COUNT VLAD
“The British bloodhound, sniffing at the roots of old empires. And what did he find?”
MISTRESS TYNELL (coolly measured)
“Only what we let him. Ardan offered smoke. I dressed it in silk. Holmes left with less than he wanted… but more than he should.”
COUNT VLAD (low laugh)
“He always mistook doors for answers. And let me guess—my name came up?”
MISTRESS TYNELL
“Not just your name. A photograph. A theory. He thinks you’re the key to unraveling something far beyond his grasp.”
COUNT VLAD (smirking)
“He’s wrong. I’m not the key. I’m the lock he’ll break his mind against.”
A beat of charged silence. Vlad thinks “I DID hear that name.”
MISTRESS TYNELL (voice narrowing)
“I thought you should know… before Ardan turns his eye toward you. The Grand Manipulator tolerates few rivals—real or imagined.”
COUNT VLAD
“And what does the High Mistress gain by whispering warnings into my ear?”
MISTRESS TYNELL
“Let’s just say… I’d rather keep my fingers in the fire than be burned by it.”
COUNT VLAD
“You always did prefer to play both sides of the flame. Tell me—does this message come from you… or from you pretending to serve someone else?”
MISTRESS TYNELL (light smile in her tone)
“I never pretend, Vlad. I simply arrange truth in more useful shapes.”
COUNT VLAD
“Mmm. Then arrange this: if Ardan believes he still commands the stage, he should be reminded that the script has changed. And the fire… is mine now.”
MISTRESS TYNELL (cautiously amused)
“You always did enjoy setting matches near open parchment. But don’t forget—some shadows watch the flame. And remember who taught you the trick.”
COUNT VLAD
“You were never a teacher. You were a test.”
MISTRESS TYNELL (final note, velvet and venom)
“And yet you still answer when I call. Goodnight, Vlad. May your stage hold.”
She hangs up. The line clicks dead.
Vlad slowly lowers the receiver, eyes fixed on some distant corner of the room. Thunder rolls. The candlelight flickers across his face—calm, cruel, calculating.
COUNT VLAD (to himself, barely a whisper)
“Let him come.”
Fade to black.
[Opening Sequence: Static distortions and pulsing voltage lines snap across the screen before the Voltage logo slams onto the screen with a thunderous crackle.]
Sam Duffy (voiceover):
“Hello wrestling fans and welcome back to another installment of the HCW Wrestling Newsletter—this is Voltage, and we’re coming off a supercharged Fourth of July weekend in Columbia, South Carolina!”
[Cut to ringside – pyro explodes as the crowd roars. Sam Duffy and Rick Granger are standing at the commentary booth.]
Sam Duffy:
“Sam Duffy here alongside Rick Granger and Rick—we witnessed absolute mayhem at Meltdown! From Zack Brown getting robbed in that Dominion Rules main event… to Ashley Summers being caged like a warrior queen!”
Rick Granger:
“Oh, and let’s not forget the Yeti. Jax Brenner didn’t just lose a war—he got hunted. Dominion’s dominance just keeps expanding, Sam, and I don’t think anyone’s figured out how to stop it.”
Sam Duffy:
“And the fallout is just beginning. Let’s take a look at tonight’s Voltage card as the dust settles.”
[ON-SCREEN GRAPHIC: Tonight’s Match Line-Up]
Sam Duffy:
“Kicking us off in just moments—Adam Jameson and Billy Robbins take on The New Sicilians, Dirty Dick and Vicious Vinnie Albano. And with Pierre Boulay slithering at ringside, you know there’s no such thing as a clean fight.”
Rick Granger:
“Then it’s the Smashers going head-to-head with Jet Moreno and Diego Estrella—these two daredevils made their presence felt at Meltdown, and tonight they’re looking to back it up with a win over a pair of sledgehammers.”
Sam Duffy:
“After that, the Alaskan Wildman Jax Brenner is in the building—and he’s calling for the Yeti. But word backstage is… this encounter might come with more than he bargained for.”
Rick Granger:
“Once that chaos settles, we’ve got a monster mash on deck—Korbi Kong, accompanied by Count Vlad, goes one-on-one with the fearless Betsy Cummings. If she can survive the Empress, she still has to survive Vlad.”
Sam Duffy:
“And then it’s tag team stakes with gold on the horizon—Duke Knight returns from injury to reunite with Biceps Bannerman against Joe 'Jack Hammer' Sanders and Noah 'High Flyer' Murphy. The winners walk out with a shot at the HCW Heritage Tag Team Titles.”
Rick Granger:
“And finally—the Television Title is on the line. Beastfang, Dominion brute and nightmare made flesh, takes on the unpredictable wild card that is Cara Loco. The champ is unhinged. The challenger is unstoppable. And Count Vlad will definitely make his presence known.”
Sam Duffy:
“Buckle up, folks. Voltage starts now.”
Sam Duffy:
“Folks, we’re wasting no time getting to our opening contest—tag team implications on the line as one of HCW’s purest babyface duos squares off with two of the dirtiest players in the game.”
Rick Granger:
“Say what you want about the New Sicilians, but Dirty Dick and Vicious Vinnie Albano fight like their uncle’s legacy is on the line every time they step into a ring—and tonight, they’re looking to steal the spot held by Adam Jameson and Billy Robbins.”
[Ring Announcer Tony Calibur stands center-ring.]
Tony Calibur:
“The following contest is a tag team match scheduled for one fall… and the winners will secure their place in the HCW tag team division rankings!”
[“Unbreakable Ground” by Victory Parade hits and the crowd pops huge.]
Tony Calibur:
“Introducing first… at a combined weight of 431 pounds… the team of Adam Jameson and Billy Robbins!”
[Adam and Billy step onto the stage side-by-side, slapping hands and nodding to the fans. Billy is fired up while Adam keeps a calm focus.]
Sam Duffy:
“They’ve been in the trenches together—fighting back Dominion interference, the Hubers, you name it. These two don’t get handed anything. They earn every step.”
[Suddenly, the upbeat theme is CUT OFF and replaced by “Omertà Anthem” by Vinny Bones and the Ten Bell Mob—complete with distorted accordions and brass horns. A shower of gold and red sparks fall at the entrance.]
Tony Calibur:
“And their opponents… accompanied to the ring by Pierre Boulay… at a combined weight of 465 pounds… Dirty Dick and Vicious Vinnie… The New Sicilians!”
[Dick and Vinnie come swaggering down the ramp with smirks on their faces and gold chains swinging. Pierre Boulay follows with a crooked cane in hand, shouting insults at the fans in French and English.]
Rick Granger:
“I’ll say this—Boulay might be the most punchable man in HCW. But he’s also clever. He didn’t just bring the Albano name back for nostalgia. These guys are calculating thugs—and they’re climbing the ladder one cheap shot at a time.”
Sam Duffy:
“Let’s not forget—they’ve shown zero loyalty to anyone, including Count Vlad and the Dark Dominion. They’re not looking to join forces. They want power on their own terms.”
[Referee ‘Honest’ Abe checks both teams as the crowd chants “LET’S GO BILLY!” and “ADAM’S HOUSE!” The bell rings.]
Rick Granger:
“Here we go—Voltage kicks off with heat, history, and a whole lot of bad blood in the air!”
Match #1: Adam & Billy vs the New Sicilians w/Pierre Boulay for their (A&B) spot
From the opening bell, Adam Jameson put his technical mastery on display, immediately grounding Dirty Dick Albano with a Reverse STF that had the New Sicilian clawing for the ropes.
Sam Duffy:
"Adam Jameson wasting no time! He’s out here to work, Rick!"
After softening Dick up, Adam made a clean tag to Billy Robbins, who lit up the ring with a flurry of Rapid Punches. But just as momentum built, Pierre Boulay grabbed Billy’s arm from the outside—allowing Dick to stumble away and regroup.
Rick Granger:
“There’s that slimeball Boulay again! I’ve seen cleaner hands on a sewer grate.”
Billy, infuriated, tried to take a swing at Pierre, but the distraction left him vulnerable. Dick Albano struck with a Smothering Chinlock, slowing the pace and tagging in Vicious Vinnie. The beatdown began in earnest.
Vinnie launched Robbins out of the ring like yesterday’s trash, and the ref began counting. The crowd rallied, and Billy barely made it back in at five.
Sam Duffy:
“Billy’s tougher than he looks, but he’s eating fists from every direction!”
Inside the ring, Vinnie unleashed a brutal Seaside Right, followed by a smash into the turnbuckle, before tagging Dick back in. The New Sicilians had cut the ring in half, isolating Billy with suffocating double teams.
But Billy refused to stay down.
With the crowd roaring, Billy caught Dick with a Flying Body Press, and Adam re-entered the fray with a Spin Kick. The double team offense fired on all cylinders—Slingshot Over the Top from Billy, Springboard Face Smash from Adam—but Dirty Dick caught Adam flush with a Rising Knee Strike to break the combo and stagger the comeback.
Rick Granger:
“Say what you want about Dick Albano, but he can take a hit and throw one twice as nasty.”
What followed was chaos. Both teams started brawling, and Billy Robbins found himself in the wrong corner. The Sicilians executed another round of double-team punishment, with eye gouges, smashes into the turnbuckle, and a devastating Apron Sidewalk Slam from Dick.
Pierre Boulay cackled from ringside, his cane waving in triumph as the referee’s count hit 8… 9…
Billy tried to pull himself in—hand on the apron…
10!
Tony Calibur (ring announcer):
“Here are your winners… by count-out… The New Sicilians!”
Sam Duffy:
“Come on! What a cheap, greasy way to win—Robbins never got pinned, but the Sicilians stole it anyway.”
Rick Granger:
“Hey, a win’s a win, Sam. They played the long game. Billy fought with guts, but guts don’t matter when your back hits the floor at nine-point-five.”
As the New Sicilians celebrated, Pierre Boulay barked orders and demanded the ref raise their hands. Adam Jameson knelt beside his partner, glaring up the ramp at the smug trio, seething.
Sam Duffy:
“Billy and Adam will want a rematch—and next time, maybe they’ll keep Boulay’s greasy fingers off the outcome.”
[Backstage – HCW Executive Office Suite]
The camera peers through the barely opened office door. Max McGillicutty leans against his desk, arms folded, a confident smirk on his face. Across from him stands Count Vlad, his posture regal, eyes half-lidded, as though surveying a chessboard only he can see.
Max McGillicutty (smirking):
“Let the Big Bad Boss Man have his little moment in the spotlight. He’s a figurehead now. He can bark and wave papers around all day—but I still control what matters. Everything that happens between these ropes? That’s mine.”
Count Vlad (quietly amused):
““As you should. It was always meant to be yours... as long as you remember it’s not about power, Max. It’s about precision.”
Max narrows his eyes slightly, sensing something behind the tone but unable to pin it down.
Vlad steps closer, his voice a silken whisper, cold but confident.
Count Vlad: “Because the truth isn’t for everyone, Max. And lately... new eyes are watching.”
Max McGillicutty (smirking): “If he’s watching—”
Vlad interrupts with a soft chuckle, barely audible. He raises a hand.
Count Vlad (calm, unshaken):
“—He is. Others too.”
He lets that hang in the air—deliberate, heavy.
Max (straightening a bit): “Yeah? Yours or mine?”
Count Vlad (smiles faintly): “Neither. But let them look. What they find... will be exactly what I allow.”
He turns with calculated grace, cloak sweeping as he exits, leaving Max standing with a furrowed brow—still smirking, but noticeably more contemplative.
[BACK FROM COMMERCIAL – The Voltage logo pulses on screen before cutting back to ringside.]
Sam Duffy:
“Well, if you’re just joining us—welcome to HCW Voltage! We’ve already seen tempers flare in our opening tag match, but now it’s time for something fast, furious… and airborne.”
Rick Granger:
“Or grounded, if the Smashers have anything to say about it. Jet Moreno and Diego Estrella might have stolen the spotlight at Meltdown, but the Smashers are here to smash dreams, not sign autographs.”
Sam Duffy:
“Jet and Diego made waves when they interrupted the tag title match last week, inserting themselves—literally—into the fight. Now they’ve got to prove they can finish a match, not just crash one.”
[“Launch Sequence” by Sky Reign hits the PA system—an explosive electronic rock anthem. The crowd erupts.]
Tony Calibur:
“The following tag team contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first… at a combined weight of 405 pounds… the team of Jet Moreno and Diego Estrella!”
[Jet Moreno bounds through the curtain, springboarding off the stage railing before landing in a crouch. Diego Estrella follows with high energy, hyping up the crowd as they race to the ring. Jet shouts, “Altitude is attitude!” and points to the sky.]
Rick Granger:
“These two don’t believe in walking. It’s all flips, dives, and adrenaline—until someone grounds them with a fist to the mouth.”
Sam Duffy:
“Say what you will, Rick—this is a young team with sky-high potential. If they can work as a unit, they could turn this whole division upside-down.”
[The music cuts to “Malice March” by Iron Cartel—a heavy, plodding industrial track. The arena dims in red as smoke rises from the ramp.]
Tony Calibur:
“And their opponents… at a combined weight of 526 pounds… Smasher #1 and Smasher #2… The Smashers!”
[The hulking twins stomp out from the back in matching black gear and scowls. They walk with mechanical precision, not acknowledging the crowd as they head straight for the ring like twin wrecking balls.]
Sam Duffy:
“They’re not here to entertain. They’re here to obliterate. The Smashers don’t do flips—they just flip you inside out.”
Rick Granger:
“Jet and Diego better not get too fancy. One mistimed springboard and these two bowling balls will be scraping their spines off the mat.”
[Inside the ring, referee ‘Honest’ Abe checks both teams. Jet bounces on the ropes while Diego stretches out. The Smashers remain completely still, glaring across the ring like statues of menace.]
Sam Duffy:
“Here we go! Can the high-flying newcomers survive the storm—or will the Smashers flatten their momentum before it even begins?”
[The bell rings.]
Match #2: The Smashers vs Jet and Diego
This one started with brute force and blinding speed—two teams with wildly different philosophies on how to win, and neither willing to budge an inch.
Sam Duffy:
“You’ve got controlled chaos on one side and human demolition equipment on the other. Welcome to HCW Voltage!”
From the opening moments, Smasher #1 imposed his will on Diego Estrella, dropping a massive Elbow Drop, then hoisting him up for a punishing Powerbomb. Diego fired back with a crisp Leg Hook Belly-to-Back Suplex and a Benadryller, but the big man absorbed it like granite and tagged out to Smasher #2.
That’s when things turned ugly. The Smashers initiated a string of coordinated double-team attacks—Backbreaker, Powerbomb, Russian Legsweep, even the nasty Steel Smasher—while Diego miraculously stayed in it, landing a daring 630 Senton mid-onslaught.
Rick Granger:
“I don’t know how Diego’s still breathing. These two aren’t wrestling—they’re repaving him into the mat!”
Still absorbing damage, Diego managed to land a Jumping Corkscrew Roundhouse Kick, then tried to tag out—but the Smashers kept cutting the ring off. Even when Jet finally entered and connected with a Step-Up Enzuigiri and a Poison Rana, the sheer durability of the Smashers nullified the impact.
Time and again, Estrella fought through double teams, even scoring a near fall off another 630 Senton, but ‘Slow-Count’ Sam lived up to his name—giving the Smashers precious seconds to recover.
Sam Duffy:
“I’m not saying this ref is crooked, but I’ve seen trees fall faster than Sam’s count!”
Eventually, Jet and Diego found their rhythm—Northern Lights Suplex from Diego, Standing 540 Flip Senton from Jet—and managed to get Smasher #2 reeling. But just when it looked like the tide was turning, the Smashers dragged them into a brawl where size ruled over style. A wild four-man melee broke out with all four competitors landing devastating strikes: Superkick, Knee Strike, Powerbomb, and Forearm Smash.
Jet went for a Standing Moonsault, but Smasher #2 rolled through and landed a Spinning Back Elbow so precise, it dropped Jet on the spot.
Rick Granger:
“Jet might be flying high—but Smasher #2 just canceled his flight plan!”
1… 2… 3.
Despite the crowd’s defiant chants, ‘Slow-Count’ Sam called for the bell.
Tony Calibur (ring announcer):
“Here are your winners… The Smashers!”
Sam Duffy:
“Jet and Diego threw everything they had at them—corkscrews, flips, facebusters—but in the end, the Smashers just kept standing.”
Rick Granger:
“Jet and Diego are gonna be stars someday, Sam. But today? They just got smashed.”
As the Smashers silently exited the ring, the camera caught Jet shaking his head in frustration while Diego checked his jaw. The crowd gave them a respectful round of applause, acknowledging the fight—even in defeat.
[Scene: Ringside - The crowd is electric as Jax Brenner storms into the ring, microphone in hand. His face is a mix of anger and desperation, his voice booming over the roaring fans. Molly is noticeably absent, still recovering from her injuries at the hands of the Mystery Woman at Meltdown.]
Jax Brenner: (yelling into the mic)
“YETI! WHERE ARE YOU? SHOW YOUR FURRY ASS NOW!”
The crowd erupts, chanting for Yeti to appear. On cue, the monstrous Yeti emerges from the curtain, flanked by Count Vlad and the hooded Mystery Woman. Vlad walks with a smug, calculated confidence, his sinister grin reminiscent of a puppet master pulling the strings. Yeti towers beside him, his presence alone enough to send chills through the arena. The Mystery Woman lingers behind them, her hood and mask concealing her identity as the crowd buzzes with anticipation.
Yeti: (mocking, with a sarcastic tone)
“Ah yes, Wildman. You wanted to speak with me? How charming. But tell me, Jaxie, what’s the matter? Feeling a little lost without your Mason girl?”
(Yeti chuckles darkly, his voice dripping with malice. The crowd boos loudly as Jax paces in the ring, his fury barely contained.)
Jax Brenner: (pointing at Yeti)
“I’m tired of your mind games! The fans are tired of your games! Who is this new doppelganger you’re trying to pass off as Suzie? What sick joke are you playing now?”
Yeti: (grinning, his tone condescending)
“Oh dear Jaxie... you are so wrong. Can’t you see it in her eyes? I know the last time you saw her, she was just a mere child. But now? Now she’s all grown up, transformed into a true beast.”
(The crowd murmurs in shock as Jax shakes his head, disbelief etched across his face. Count Vlad steps forward, his voice smooth and calculated, like a serpent weaving its way into the conversation.)
Count Vlad: (with a sinister smile, his tone dripping with charisma)
“Indeed, Jax. Her true nature awakened, her true potential revealed. You see, it wasn’t easy. It took time, patience, and... an intense training program. But oh, the results speak for themselves, don’t they?”
(Yeti and Vlad chuckle together, their laughter echoing through the arena like a haunting melody. Jax’s anger grows as he grips the microphone tighter.)
Yeti: (gesturing to the Mystery Woman)
“But if you don’t believe me, Jaxie, why don’t you let her speak for herself?”
The crowd roars as the Mystery Woman steps forward, her movements deliberate and commanding. She slowly removes her hood and mask, revealing long dirty blonde hair and a bestial, furious look. Her piercing eyes lock onto Jax as she grabs the microphone, panting heavily. The arena falls silent, the tension palpable.
Mystery Woman: (low and growly voice)
“Bubba Jaxie...”
(She pauses as the crowd begins chanting “Bubba Jaxie!” The chant grows louder, but Jax remains frozen, his face a mix of shock and confusion.)
Mystery Woman:
“Do you not recognize your baby sister?”
(Jax shakes his head, disbelief washing over him as the crowd gasps. She steps closer, her voice growing more intense.)
Mystery Woman:
“I know I am not the same weak child you let the beasts take many years ago. Your great failure in a long list of failures. But I have been shown the way to unlock my true self—to let the beast inside free.”
(Jax continues shaking his head, repeating “No, no, no,” as anger and tears begin to show. The Mystery Woman’s expression hardens, her voice dropping to a guttural growl.)
Mystery Woman:
“But you are right, Jax. Little Suzie is dead—thanks to your impotence. And now, only FERAL remains.”
(She growls ferociously, her primal energy filling the arena. Yeti roars in unison, the sound shaking the crowd as Vlad smirks triumphantly. The trio stares at Jax with devious smiles as he screams from the ring.)
Jax Brenner: (yelling)
“YOU LIE! YOU ARE SICK!”
The crowd erupts as Jax stares at her, stunned. The trio retreats to the back leaving a stunned and angry Jax in the ring trying to make sense of what he just heard. Eventually, Jax storms off to the back…seeking answers to so many questions.
[BACKSTAGE – GOTHIC LIGHTING – COUNT VLAD & KORBI KONG]
[The camera opens on Count Vlad standing in front of the ominous Dominion banner. The lights are low, shadows dance across his face. Beside him looms the monstrous silhouette of Korbi Kong, arms folded, eyes burning with rage.]
Count Vlad (smirking):
“Tonight… a spectacle awaits. A tale of size… versus spirit. But let us not pretend this is an equal contest. No, no. Tonight is a demonstration. Of muscle. Of malice. Of inevitability.”
[Korbi growls low and sharp, flexing her shoulders like a beast in a cage.]
Count Vlad:
“Betsy Cummings is brave. I will give her that. But bravery means nothing when the storm arrives. When the temple crumbles. When the fury of Korbi Kong is unleashed.”
[He glances sideways at his monstrous charge.]
Count Vlad:
“She does not speak because there are no words for what she will do. Only wreckage. Only fear. Only silence left behind. And when it is over…”
[He leans closer to the lens.]
Count Vlad (hushed and cold):
“Tell the others. This… is just a preview.”
[Korbi exhales through her nose and stomps off screen. Vlad smiles, eyes twinkling with cruel delight before the screen fades to black.]
[The Voltage crowd in Raleigh buzzes with nervous anticipation as the camera returns to ringside.]
Sam Duffy:
“Well I don’t know about you, Rick, but I’ve got goosebumps—and not the good kind. Count Vlad has a monster in his stable, and her name is Korbi Kong.”
Rick Granger:
“Betsy better be fueled up and praying hard. Korbi’s got hands like demolition cranes.”
[Suddenly, “Out for Blood” by Steel Velvet blasts from the speakers. Betsy Cummings bursts through the curtain, clad in red-and-black gear, pacing across the stage like a caged fighter. She throws up a hand to the crowd, who pop loudly.]
Tony Calibur:
“The following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first… from Buffalo, New York… Betsy Cummings!”
Sam Duffy:
“Betsy Cummings isn’t backing down from anyone, Rick. She’s got more guts than most, and she’s fought bigger names before. But Korbi Kong? That’s another beast entirely.”
Rick Granger:
“She’s about to find out if courage can hold up under a freight train.”
[Betsy circles the ring, stretching her shoulders, hyping up the crowd one corner at a time before locking eyes with the entrance ramp.]
[The lights suddenly dim. A pounding tribal drum rhythm echoes as “Mother Earth Weeps” by Dark Chant Choir plays. Purple and crimson fog floods the entrance ramp. Count Vlad emerges, arms outstretched like a twisted priest. Behind him, the hulking Korbi Kong steps into the light—her hair wild, body painted with bone-white streaks, and fury in every step.]
Tony Calibur:
“And her opponent… accompanied by Count Vlad… standing nearly six feet tall and weighing in at ‘whatever she feels like’… Korbi Kong!”
Sam Duffy (quietly):
“...This crowd just fell silent.”
Rick Granger:
“As they should. That’s not just a wrestler walking to the ring. That’s a blunt instrument.”
[Korbi climbs onto the apron without assistance, steps over the ropes, and stares down Betsy with complete contempt. Count Vlad circles the outside, grinning ear to ear.]
Sam Duffy:
“Betsy’s got a mountain to climb… and that mountain is glaring back at her.”
Match #3: The Viperfang Empress Korbi Kong w/Count Vlad vs Betsy Cummings
From the moment the bell rang, Betsy Cummings showed no fear. She charged straight at the towering Korbi Kong, meeting force with force in a test of grit and guts. A running clothesline from Korbi staggered her, but Betsy quickly locked in a front facelock, refusing to give the monster a free shot.
Sam Duffy:
“Betsy’s bringing the fight right to her—and I respect the hell out of it!”
Rick Granger:
“Yeah, but you can’t out-tough a wrecking ball, Sam. You duck the wrecking ball. You don’t run into it.”
Despite Korbi’s brutal forearm uppercut, Betsy answered with an armbar, working methodically to wear
down the bigger woman. A reversal exchange ended with Betsy hitting a running kneelift that rocked Korbi to the ropes.
Sam Duffy:
“She’s got her staggered! I repeat—Korbi Kong is rocked!”
But it didn’t last. Korbi shook it off, planting Betsy with a diving forearm to the back, then smothered her with a rear chin lock that she turned into a grinding control hold. Betsy tried a monkey flip to escape, but Korbi deadlifted out of it like it was nothing, punishing her with a backbreaker moments later.
Rick Granger:
“That’s not a reversal. That’s a woman getting thrown off a cliff.”
Betsy wouldn’t stay down, but each rally was met with brute resistance. Korbi clamped on another rear chin lock, slowing the match to her brutal pace. She followed with a pin attempt, but Betsy kicked out at two.
The crowd rallied as Betsy fought back with another kneelift, but Korbi caught her mid-motion and yanked her into a savage arm triangle lock. Betsy gritted her teeth, refusing to submit even as her face turned crimson.
Sam Duffy:
“She won’t tap! Look at the heart! Betsy is still fighting—she’s still—”
Korbi wrenched the hold tighter, dragging her down like prey caught in a python’s grip. And finally, the pain became too much. Betsy taps!
Referee 'Honest' Abe called for the bell.
Tony Calibur:
“Here is your winner… by submission… Korbi Kong!”
Rick Granger:
“Dominant. Unrelenting. That was a message, not a match.”
Sam Duffy:
“And look at Vlad—he’s just standing there like a proud architect of destruction. This wasn’t just about beating Betsy. This was about making sure the rest of the roster sees what’s coming.”
As Korbi stood tall over her fallen opponent, Count Vlad stepped into the ring with arms open like a conductor finishing a symphony. The Dominion's beast had delivered—and the rest of HCW had been warned.
[BACKSTAGE – HCW VOLTAGE]
[The shot opens backstage with General Manager Max McGillicutty walking through the hallway in a sleek charcoal blazer. He’s holding a cup of cold soda and scrolling through something on his tablet, flanked by two stoic security guards.]
[Suddenly—BOOM!—a blur of blue and orange explodes from the right. The figure crashes full-speed into Max, sending the drink flying into his chest and knocking the tablet to the ground with a splat.]
[It’s CARA LOCO. Mask on, black cap twisted backward, wild orange-and-blue hair flaring in every direction. His fists are up—brass knuckles gleaming with the words “CARA” and “LOCO” proudly engraved.]
Cara Loco (grinning like a madman):
“¡Boom, baby! Sorry, boss man—I don't walk… I LAUNCH!”
Max McGillicutty (stunned, seething):
“You absolute—you just ruined my suit.”
Cara Loco:
“Could’ve been worse, hombre. I once spilled hot cheese on a nun. Whole different vibe.”
[Max steps forward, nostrils flaring, brushing soda off his chest as his guards instinctively tense up. Cara doesn't flinch—just leans in, nose-to-nose, grin never fading.]
Max McGillicutty (cold and clipped):
“You’ve got a match tonight. A title match. And here you are acting like a damn clown.”
Cara Loco:
“Correction—I’m a champion clown. Big difference.”
Max McGillicutty (voice dropping):
“You’re a loose cannon. And while that might amuse the fans… it’s becoming a problem for me.”
[He straightens his jacket, dead-eyed.]
Max McGillicutty:
“Tonight… after your match… you’re getting a little surprise. Call it a gift from upper management.”
Cara Loco (tilting his head, mock concerned):
“Is it cake? I love cake.”
Max McGillicutty (smiling grimly):
“No. But when it hits you… I promise you’ll remember it.”
[Max storms off, flanked by his guards. Cara watches him go, then turns to the camera—wide-eyed and buzzing with barely-contained insanity.]
Cara Loco (laughing):
“A surprise, huh? Ooooh, I hope it explodes…”
[He punches his brass knuckles together—CLACK!—and saunters off toward gorilla position, the crowd in the arena already chanting his name from a distance.]
[Camera cuts to the ring as the Voltage crowd buzzes, still talking about the war between Betsy and Korbi. Suddenly the lights shift to a blue-and-gold hue as a heartbeat thump echoes through the speakers.]
Sam Duffy:
“Here we go, folks! This one’s got big implications—whichever team wins here is next in line for a shot at the Heritage Tag Team Titles!”
Rick Granger:
“And it's not just about gold, Sam—this is about legacy. These four are some of the most hard-working, hard-hitting athletes in HCW.”
[“Stand Tall” by Liberty Fuse kicks in as pyro blasts from either side of the ramp. Joe ‘Jack Hammer’ Sanders bursts through the curtain, flexing both arms as the crowd roars. Behind him, Noah ‘High Flyer’ Murphy charges out, slapping hands and pointing to the rafters.]
Tony Calibur:
“Introducing first… at a combined weight of 443 pounds… the team of Joe ‘Jack Hammer’ Sanders and
Noah ‘High Flyer’ Murphy!”
[Joe slaps his chest and yells “WE BUILT THIS!” while Noah climbs the turnbuckle and throws up a double peace sign to the fans.]
Sam Duffy:
“They’ve become a well-oiled machine lately. Joe brings the muscle, Noah brings the motion—and together, they’re on the brink of tag team glory.”
Rick Granger:
“Sure, they’re good—but tonight they face a walking tank and a returning titan. And that’s a lot of meat to move.”
[Suddenly, the lights flicker and dim. A single spotlight hits the ramp.]
[“Forge the Blade” by Iron Summit erupts through the arena as a massive wall of smoke billows from the curtain. Biceps Bannerman steps out first, muscles glistening, fists clenched and ready for war. Behind him, the crowd erupts as Duke Knight emerges—his long black trench coat whipping behind him, head bowed until he reaches center stage.]
Tony Calibur:
“And their opponents… at a combined weight of 478 pounds… the team of Biceps Bannerman and Duke Knight!”
[Biceps pounds his chest with one fist while Duke raises a single arm into the air, absorbing the thunderous response from the fans.]
Sam Duffy:
“Listen to this ovation! Duke Knight is back, and you can feel the energy shift. This crowd has missed him.”
Rick Granger:
“Say what you want, Duke may be battle-worn, but when he steps in that ring, he turns into a knight with steel fists. And Biceps? He’s pure power in motion. That’s not a team—it’s a problem.”
[Duke steps into the ring and slowly removes his coat, revealing battle-hardened gear underneath. Biceps crouches in the corner, eyes locked on Joe Sanders. Noah paces behind him, bouncing on his toes. ‘Honest’ Abe checks both sides as the crowd rises to their feet.]
Sam Duffy:
“Two teams. One title shot. And absolutely no room for error. Voltage rolls on—this one’s gonna be a banger!”
Match #4: Duke & Biceps vs Joe and Noah for the next shot at the Heritage TT titles
The bell rang to a red-hot crowd as Duke Knight and Joe Sanders met in the center of the ring. Two proud workhorses—no wasted motion, no trash talk—just pure intensity. They locked up hard, pushing chest to chest like a pair of bulls before Duke whipped Joe into the ropes and dropped him with a stiff shoulder block.
Sam Duffy:
“Duke looks like he never missed a beat. That’s ring rust evaporated.”
Rick Granger:
“Yeah, he just flattened Joe like a sidewalk pretzel.”
Joe quickly rolled to his corner and tagged in Noah Murphy, who springboarded into the ring with a beautiful flying forearm that caught Duke square on the jaw. Noah picked up the pace with two quick dropkicks, backing Duke into the ropes. He ran for the ropes again—only for Biceps Bannerman to catch him mid-air with a devastating powerslam.
Sam Duffy:
“Good God! Did you see the altitude on that?!”
Rick Granger:
“I saw the impact. I felt it in my sternum.”
Biceps tagged in officially, grabbing Noah and launching him with a vertical suplex that seemed to hang forever. Noah’s back crashed hard into the mat. But the High Flyer showed heart, dodging a running elbow and hitting a desperation enzuigiri to stun the big man.
He dove for the tag—Joe Sanders back in!
Joe exploded into the ring, leveling Biceps with two clotheslines and a flying shoulder tackle. He caught Duke trying to enter and dropped him with a belly-to-belly suplex. Joe turned back to Biceps and went for a Jack Hammer Slam—but Biceps blocked it and drove Joe back into the corner with raw power.
Rick Granger:
“That’s the thing—Joe’s strong. But Biceps is a walking monument.”
Joe tried to fight out of the corner, but Biceps headbutted him and tagged Duke back in. With the crowd rising to their feet, Duke grabbed Joe in a clinch, unloaded a European uppercut, then hit a Spine-Shattering Backbreaker.
Sam Duffy:
“He bent Joe like a coat hanger!”
Noah tried to run in, but Biceps met him with a thunderous clothesline that sent him spinning.
With the field clear, Duke Knight called the shot, lifted Joe up, and with Biceps assisting from the apron, planted him with the Knightfall Slam—a brutal combo spinebuster/dropkick variation.
Sam Duffy:
“Knightfall! That’s it! That’s gotta be it!”
1… 2… 3!
Tony Calibur:
“Here are your winners… and the #1 contenders for the Heritage Tag Team Championships… Duke Knight and Biceps Bannerman!”
Rick Granger:
“They came in with purpose, and they just earned their shot. Duke’s back. Biceps never left. And together? That’s a title-level team.”
Sam Duffy:
“Joe and Noah fought with everything they had—but Duke and Biceps were a freight train with no brakes. The champs better be watching.”
As Duke helped Joe to his feet post-match, the two exchanged a respectful nod—mutual warriors in a tough, clean fight. Biceps lifted Duke’s arm, the crowd roaring as the future title contenders stood tall in the center of the ring.
It is time for our main event. Without much fanfare, Count Vlad and Beastfang make their way out to massive booing from the fans. Vlad takes it all in stride and goes to commentary as Beastfang enters the ring after giving the ref Beastfang’s contract that he is cashing in tonight. As the crowd showers him in boos, the music changes and out comes the TV Champion Cara Loco. The crowd explodes as Cara is sporting a new look for this match. He makes his way to ringside and asks for a mic.
[HCW Voltage – In-Ring Promo Segment]
CARA LOCO enters solo, TV Title over one shoulder, mic in hand, towel tucked in the waistband, bouncing side to side. The crowd’s already rowdy. Lights dim just enough for spotlight focus. No music. Just that smirk.
"Yo."
Crowd pops.
"I been sittin’ back chillin’—watchin’ fangs flash in the dark,
Thinkin’ ‘bout how Beastfang want a bite at this mark.
But you don’t hunt me, dog…
You just bark."
Pause as crowd starts chanting "LO-CO! LO-CO!"
"You from the shadows, right? Dominion of doom?
Crawlin' outta coffins like it's Halloween in June.
You got your brother screamin’ 'VAMPIRE LUNGES FOR EVERYBODY!'—
And that’s cute…
But I ain't scared of party city outfits and bloodsport karate."
"You don't talk, Beastfang? That’s fine—
I’ll put these words in your mouth like every punchline.
You some ancient evil? I’m the curse breaker.
I'm a real one, you a cosplay Undertaker."
"See, I come from the dirt, where we fight to survive—
You come from a crypt with your uncle Count Vlad high-fivin’ guys.
He send you for this title like you earned the shot?
Well tell Vlad this belt stays mine—
And he can suck my parking lot."
Crowd erupts. Cara tosses the towel into the crowd.
"See this title? It ain’t a snack for some night-crawlin' brute—
It’s for the ones who grind, who scrap, who bleed in their boots.
I put in work while you sleep upside-down like a freakin' bat.
I been beat, bruised, broken—and still came back."
"So bring your fangs. Bring your shadows.
Bring your twisted little cult.
I'm the loco, the lone wolf—
You just Vlad’s result."
Cara raises the TV Title high.
"This ain't gothic horror—
This is a street fight in the spotlight.
And when you step to me, Beast…
Better hope you bite right."
Mic drops. Crowd explodes. Cara stares at the camera with a toothy grin, belt in one hand, two fingers pointed like a pistol in the other.
Match #5: The Main Event: Cara Loco vs Beastfang w/Count Vlad for the TV title.
[The bell rings.]
Sam Duffy:
“This is it—the champ versus the monster. Buckle up.”
The opening lock-up is anything but technical—Cara Loco ducks under, throws a quick chop—but Beastfang doesn’t even blink. Instead, he flattens the champion with a thunderous Standing Moonsault that drives the air from Cara’s lungs.
Rick Granger:
“He shouldn’t be able to move like that! That’s a moonsault from a heavyweight!”
Beastfang stays on the attack, Deadlift German Suplexing Cara halfway across the ring. Cara scrambles to the corner, dazed but defiant. He tries a sudden burst—Short Arm Back Elbows followed by a Double Underhook DDT—but Beastfang sits up immediately after impact.
Sam Duffy:
“I don’t think Cara’s ever fought anyone who shrugs off pain like this. It’s inhuman.”
The two exchange heavy strikes—Headbutts, Running Brainbusters, and clubbing blows. Cara nails a second Double Underhook DDT and stumbles to the ropes, shouting toward Vlad.
Cara Loco:
“You want some too, Dracula?!”
[He lunges toward Vlad at ringside—only to eat a blinding Transylvania Spike to the chest from the Count's cane, hidden inside his coat sleeve.]
Sam Duffy:
“OH COME ON! Honest Abe didn’t see it—Vlad struck him right in the ribs!”
Rick Granger:
“Do your job, Abe! You're supposed to be watching the monster, not reading Bram Stoker!”
Cara staggers back into the ring just in time to catch Beastfang’s F-5000 into a Running Brainbuster, followed by a brutal pinning sequence.
1… 2… NO! Cara kicks out!
The crowd comes alive, rallying behind the battered champ. Cara Loco pulls himself up using the ropes, slaps himself in the head, and screams, “¡VAMOS, LOCO!”
But Beastfang cuts him down with another series of clubbing shots—then hoists him up and drops him with the second Transylvania-assisted strike, this one right behind the ref’s back.
Sam Duffy:
“NOT AGAIN! That damned cane just stole another win!”
Beastfang scoops Cara into a final, twisting F-5000 and hooks the leg deep.
1… 2… 3!
Winner: Beastfang
New HCW Television Champion
Tony Calibur:
“Here is your winner… and NEWWWW HCW Television Champion… Beastfang!”
Rick Granger:
“Dominion now controls the Television Championship. Count Vlad said he was building an empire—and tonight, another jewel’s been claimed.”
Sam Duffy:
“Cara Loco never quit—he fought with everything he had—but with Vlad at ringside, this was always going to be a loaded game. And don’t forget—Max McGillicutty promised Cara a surprise after this match. What the hell could that be?”
[As Beastfang snarls and lifts the title high, Count Vlad motions to someone off-camera.]
[Beastfang stands victorious in the ring, holding the HCW Television Championship as Count Vlad enters to raise his hand. Cara Loco lies on the mat, barely moving, still reeling from the Transylvania Spike and the brutal Brainbuster. The crowd is booing heavily—when suddenly…]
“Ladies and gentlemen…” – Max McGillicutty’s voice echoes ominously through the speakers.
[No music. Just Max—slowly walking onto the stage, flanked by two Dominion-aligned security agents. He’s dressed in an immaculate black suit with silver trim, Dominion colors unmistakable.]
Max McGillicutty (smirking coldly):
“Cara. Cara, Cara, Cara…”
[He tuts mockingly, pacing near the edge of the stage as the camera focuses on his condescending expression.]
Max McGillicutty:
“You just couldn’t help yourself, could you? You had to throw chaos into everything. You had to run the halls like a clown, waste my time backstage, mock the structure we—Dominion—have brought to this company.”
[He gestures to Beastfang, who stands looming behind him with the title.]
Max McGillicutty:
“And now… just look at you. The wild dog with no collar… finally put down by the real power in HCW.”
[The crowd is chanting “CARA! CARA!” as the champion rolls to his knees, still defiant, flipping Max off.]
Max McGillicutty (grinning):
“Oh, still got some bark left, huh? Don’t worry. That ends now.”
[He motions to the back. Security steps forward.]
Max McGillicutty:
“Cara Loco… by executive decision and full authority granted to me by…well, me—under advisement from Count Vlad—you are hereby terminated from HCW. Not suspended. Not fined. FIRED.”
[Gasps from the crowd.]
Max McGillicutty:
“And since your wacked out kind doesn’t like to respect borders or contracts, I’ve taken steps to ensure this is permanent. As of this moment… you are also being deported.”
Sam Duffy:
“WHAT?! This is madness! He’s using his Dominion power to erase a champion!”
Rick Granger:
“He’s using his authority, Sam. Dominion runs this place now—and the purge is starting.”
[Security hauls Cara to his feet. He stumbles, still half-laughing, half-spitting blood, grinning like a madman.]
Cara Loco (defiant):
“Vlad can have his dogs. He’ll never cage me.”
[He’s dragged toward the ramp, but halfway up, he passes Doofus Covfefe, standing at catering with a hot dog in one hand and a smug grin plastered across his stupid face.]
Doofus Covfefe:
“Bye-bye, freak! Guess the circus finally packed up, huh?”
[The guards pause. Cara slowly turns his head.]
Sam Duffy:
“Oh no… Covfefe, run.”
[Cara lashes out—kicks Covfefe in the gut—AND DROPS HIM WITH A BRUTAL STONE COLD STUNNER! The hot dog explodes across the floor as Covfefe crumples like a folding chair.]
Rick Granger:
“COVFEFE JUST GOT STUNNED INTO NEXT WEEK!”
[Cara stands over him, bruised, but proud. He glares at the camera one last time, teeth bared beneath his mask.]
Cara Loco:
“Life is a circus… and THERE is your clown.”
[Security finally drags him through the curtain as fans chant “THANK YOU CARA!” while Dominion security restores order. Max simply adjusts his cufflinks and turns his back on it all.]
Sam Duffy:
“Dominion has claimed another casualty. But Cara Loco… did not go quietly.”
Rick Granger:
“No… he went out in flames.”
This brings tonight’s show to an end. Up next will be JR Holland’s look at the PPV and then we’ll be back on 7/12 for our next episode of Live Wire. Stay Tuned.
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