“Hello
wrestling fans and welcome back to another installment of the HCW Wrestling
Newsletter!”
Sam
Duffy:
“Ladies and gentlemen, we are coming to you live for another explosive night of
HCW Voltage, and what a moment we find ourselves in here in HCW. The
landscape has shifted dramatically coming out of last week—new momentum, new
attitudes, and perhaps… new opportunities.”
Rick
Granger:
“Yeah, ‘opportunities’ is one way to put it. I’d call it chaos, Sam. You’ve got
people stealing wins, people getting run over—literally—and now everybody’s
scrambling to figure out where they fit in this new HCW.”
Sam
Duffy:
“Still to come tonight, we’ll see the World Tag Team Champions, The
Samoan Bloodline, put their titles on the line in our main event against the
newly re-focused—and perhaps newly redefined—Dynamic Duo.”
Rick
Granger:
“Oh, I’m looking forward to that. Something about those two feels… different. I
like it.”
Sam
Duffy:
“We’ll also see a brand-new competitor step into the spotlight in a Proving
Grounds Match, as Nyx Evermore looks to earn her place here in HCW—”
Rick
Granger:
“And she picked a rough welcome party in Lavender Gooms. That’s not exactly
easing into things.”
Sam
Duffy:
“And in addition to all of that, we’ll hear from Steel Justice, plus a special
edition of The Truth Hurts with Truth Wayne, featuring the Heritage Women’s
Champion, Korbi Kong.”
Sam
Duffy:
“But before we go any further, we do want to address some developing news
regarding Owen Zestwell.”
Rick
Granger:
“Yeah, and this one’s… interesting.”
Sam
Duffy:
“Following last week’s events, Owen is reportedly dealing with minor injuries
and will be taking time away from in-ring competition to recover.”
Rick
Granger:
“Convenient timing, wouldn’t you say?”
Sam
Duffy:
“Well, depending on your perspective. Because during that recovery period, Owen
has reportedly been approached with an opportunity outside of HCW—”
Rick
Granger:
“Oh, here we go…”
Sam
Duffy:
“A potential role in a Hollywood remake of the film Stripes, where he’s being
considered for the part of ‘Ox.’”
Rick
Granger:
“…You’re telling me this guy goes from getting banged up in the ring to going
straight to Hollywood? That’s quite the career pivot.”
Sam
Duffy:
“It’s an opportunity, Rick. And while nothing has been finalized, sources
indicate discussions are ongoing.”
Rick
Granger:
“Yeah, well, I’ve seen this before. Guy gets a little spotlight, starts
thinking about life outside the ring… next thing you know, he’s gone.”
Sam
Duffy:
“I think it’s too early to draw that conclusion. For now, Owen remains part of
the HCW roster, and we certainly wish him a full and speedy recovery.”
Sam
Duffy:
“But right now, we turn our attention to the future of HCW.”
Rick
Granger:
“That’s right. Time to see if the next big thing actually lives up to the
hype.”
Sam
Duffy:
“This is Proving Grounds.”
Tony
Calibur:
“Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is a Proving Grounds Match,
scheduled for one fall!”
The arena
lights dim slightly before shifting into a soft, atmospheric glow—deep purples
and midnight blues washing over the stage. A haunting, melodic track—“Starlight
Reckoning” by Velvet Horizon—begins to play as a slow pulse builds through
the speakers.
Nyx
Evermore steps out onto the stage.
There’s a
moment—just a brief pause—as she takes in the crowd, the lights, the scale of
the moment. This isn’t just another match.
This is
her shot.
She
exhales, then walks forward with purpose—focused, composed, but with a quiet
intensity behind her eyes. No theatrics, no arrogance—just determination. She
knows exactly what this opportunity means.
Sam
Duffy:
“This is what it’s all about right here. A chance to prove you belong. Nyx
Evermore stepping onto one of the biggest stages of her career.”
Rick
Granger:
“And let’s be clear—this isn’t some feel-good moment. This is a test. You
either pass… or you disappear.”
Sam
Duffy:
“We’d be remiss if we didn’t acknowledge that Tony Calibur is back at his
station after the beating he got from Terrible Herse.”
Rick
Granger:
“He’s probably the most hardcore of any ring announcer anywhere.”
Nyx makes
her way down the ramp, eyes locked on the ring the entire time. She slides in
under the bottom rope, rises to her feet, and takes one more look
around—soaking it in—but quickly centers herself again.
Game face
on.
The music
cuts.
Then—an
abrupt, upbeat, almost obnoxiously cheerful tune hits—“Sugar Rush Riot” by
The Candy Vipers—as bright pink and neon lights flash across the stage.
Lavender
Gooms bursts out with exaggerated energy, waving her arms and spinning once on
the stage like she’s the star of the show.
Because,
in her mind, she is.
She smirks
down toward the ring, spotting Nyx already waiting.
That smirk
turns into a laugh.
Rick
Granger:
“Now this is someone who knows exactly where she stands. Lavender Gooms isn’t
here to prove anything—she’s here to remind everyone who she is.”
Sam
Duffy:
“She’s got the experience advantage, no question. But sometimes that confidence
can turn into overconfidence.”
Lavender
struts down the ramp, taking her time—mocking the seriousness of the moment.
She claps sarcastically toward Nyx, then gestures as if to say “This your big
moment?”
She climbs
onto the apron, poses briefly for the crowd, then steps through the ropes with
a dismissive flick of her wrist toward her opponent.
Nyx
doesn’t react.
She just
stares back.
Nyx stands
ready—focused, grounded.
Lavender
leans casually in the corner, smirking, almost amused.
Two very
different mindsets.
One trying
to prove she belongs.
One
convinced she already does.
Sam
Duffy:
“This is a defining moment for Nyx Evermore.”
Rick
Granger:
“Yeah… and Lavender’s about to give her a reality check.”
The bell
rings and Lavender Gooms wastes zero time, immediately circling Nyx with
a confident smirk before shooting in and taking control early—grabbing the leg
and twisting Nyx down into a tight four-leg cloverleaf right in the
center of the ring.
Sam
Duffy:
“Smart strategy from Lavender—ground the newcomer early, take away that
explosiveness.”
Rick
Granger:
“Welcome to HCW, Nyx. This isn’t training class anymore.”
Nyx fights
through the pain, clawing toward the ropes before finally forcing a break—but
the message is clear: Lavender came in ready to dominate.
As
Lavender rises, she turns—and eats a sharp dropkick right to the chest
from Nyx, snapping her backward and drawing a reaction from the crowd.
Nyx
follows up with quick strikes—her Midnight elbow combinations—but
Lavender absorbs just enough to fire back, cutting her off and flipping her
hard with a hurricanrana that sends Nyx tumbling across the mat.
Lavender
keeps the pace high, staying aggressive—until Nyx answers back.
Both women
collide in the center of the ring with simultaneous offense—Lavender crashing
down with a running leg drop while Nyx counters with a Scissor Sister split
leg drop of her own, the impact echoing through the arena.
Sam
Duffy:
“Nyx is not backing down—she’s matching Lavender step for step!”
Rick
Granger:
“I’ll give her this—she’s tougher than she looks.”
The match
settles into a fast-paced exchange—Lavender using power and experience,
throwing Nyx around with snap suplexes and press slams, while Nyx
answers with speed—dropkicks, counters, and sharp timing.
Midway
through, Lavender looks to take over again—springing into another hurricanrana—but
Nyx catches the momentum mid-rotation, flipping through and reversing it,
then immediately unloading with a clean series of Midnight elbow strikes
that finally stagger the veteran.
The crowd
starts to rally.
Nyx builds
momentum—dropkick after dropkick—forcing Lavender to rethink her approach as
the match begins to tilt.
Still,
Lavender doesn’t go away. She powers Nyx up and drives her down repeatedly with
press slams, even landing a heavy pump-handle side slam that
nearly turns the tide back in her favor.
Both women
are feeling it now.
They rise
slowly—exhaustion setting in—but neither willing to give ground.
Final
exchange.
Lavender
charges—
Nyx
counters—
Celestial
Descent DDT!
The impact
spikes Lavender into the mat, and Nyx doesn’t hesitate. She pulls herself up,
digs deep, and launches one more time—
Scissor
Sister Split Leg Drop—flush across the chest!
She hooks
the leg.
Sam
Duffy:
“This could do it!”
Referee
“Honest” Abe slides in—
ONE…!
TWO…!!
THREE!!!
WINNER:
Nyx
Evermore
Nyx rolls
off, breathing heavily, sitting up in the ring as the reality of the moment
begins to set in.
She did
it.
She proved
she belongs.
Sam
Duffy:
“What a debut! Nyx Evermore just went toe-to-toe with a seasoned competitor and
came out on top!”
Rick
Granger:
“…Alright. I’ll admit it—that was impressive. She didn’t just survive… she
earned it.”
Across the
ring, Lavender Gooms pulls herself up in the corner, clearly frustrated—but she
gives a reluctant nod.
Nyx rises
to her feet, the crowd behind her now, as she takes her first real step forward
in HCW.
BACKSTAGE
— LARRY MORTON INTERVIEW
The camera
cuts backstage to the familiar HCW Voltage interview set, the logo
glowing on the monitor behind them. Larry Morton stands poised with
microphone in hand.
Next to
him…
Azrael.
No
theatrics. No smoke. No shadows.
Just
presence.
And for
the first time in a long time—when the camera finds him, the crowd reaction
from the arena is positive. A noticeable pop echoes through the
building.
Larry
Morton:
“Ladies and gentlemen, I’m here with a man who, quite frankly, has become one
of the most talked-about figures in HCW over the past week… Azrael.”
The crowd
reaction swells again—mixed with curiosity, but undeniably supportive.
Larry
Morton:
“Azrael, last week you did something that many believed was impossible… you
walked away from the Dark Dominion. You turned your back on a group that
controlled this company for months. I
have to ask you directly—why?”
Azrael
doesn’t answer immediately.
He looks
slightly off-camera… then back at Larry. Calm. Measured.
Azrael:
“For a long time… I told myself I was part of something greater.”
A pause.
Azrael:
“Power. Control. Purpose.”
He exhales
slowly.
Azrael:
“But somewhere along the way… I stopped recognizing the man carrying those
things.”
The crowd
murmurs—listening.
Azrael:
“The Dominion didn’t make me stronger… it made me comfortable.”
That line
lands.
Larry
Morton:
“So this… this isn’t just about leaving a faction. This is about changing who
you are?”
Azrael
nods once.
Azrael:
“This is about remembering who I was… before I let someone else define me.”
Another
small reaction from the crowd.
Larry
Morton:
“Tonight, you step into the ring against Waldo—no Dominion, no backup, no
shadows behind you. Just you.”
Azrael
turns his head slightly, eyes narrowing just enough.
Azrael:
“Good.”
A beat.
Azrael:
“Because now… there are no excuses.”
The crowd
pops again—this time louder.
Azrael:
“If I fall… it’s on me.”
He steps
closer to the camera—intensity rising just a notch.
Azrael:
“And if I rise… it’s because I earned it.”
He steps
back.
Silence
for a moment.
Larry
Morton:
“Azrael… thank you for your time.”
Azrael
gives a slight nod… then walks off frame.
Larry
turns back to the camera.
Larry
Morton:
“A different man… and perhaps a dangerous one in a very different way. Azrael
returns to the ring—next.”
Tony
Calibur:
“Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall!”
A bizarre,
offbeat track hits—“Confusion Parade” by The Static Clowns—as the crowd
reacts with a mix of groans and laughter.
Out walks Waldo…
followed closely by his equally peculiar ally, Doofus Covfefe.
Waldo
struts onto the stage with exaggerated confidence, pointing to himself like
he’s the biggest star in the building—despite the very audible negative
reaction. Doofus trails behind him, clapping enthusiastically, occasionally
yelling something unintelligible while trying to hype his friend up.
Rick
Granger:
“Well… here we go. If confusion had a mascot, it’d be these two.”
Sam
Duffy:
“Waldo certainly believes in himself—and with Doofus Covfefe in his corner,
he’s got someone who’s fully bought in.”
Waldo
stops halfway down the ramp, posing dramatically—only for Doofus to try and
copy him a second too late, completely ruining the timing. Waldo shoots him an
annoyed look, then waves it off like it was intentional.
They
continue down the ramp, Waldo jawing at the crowd while Doofus backs him up,
pointing and shouting toward fans in the front row.
Waldo
climbs into the ring, stepping through the ropes with a smug grin, while Doofus
remains at ringside, pacing and talking nonstop.
The lights
dim.
A low,
steady tone hums through the arena—no sudden burst, no spectacle. Just a slow,
deliberate shift in atmosphere.
Then—“Ashes
Reclaimed” by Iron Veil begins to play. A heavy, deliberate rhythm.
Azrael
steps out onto the stage.
No
theatrics.
No grand
gestures.
Just
focus.
And this
time—something different.
The crowd
responds.
Not
cautiously… not uncertainly…
They
pop.
Sam
Duffy:
“Listen to this reaction! A week ago, this might not have been the case—but
tonight, Azrael walks out to a very different reception.”
Rick
Granger:
“Yeah, yeah… everybody loves a redemption story. Let’s see if it lasts.”
Azrael
doesn’t acknowledge Waldo.
Doesn’t
acknowledge Doofus.
He walks
straight down the ramp, eyes locked on the ring—on the fight ahead.
No
distractions.
No past.
Just
what’s in front of him.
He steps
up onto the apron, pauses for just a moment—then enters the ring, standing tall
as the music fades.
Across
from him, Waldo smirks… but there’s a hint of uncertainty now.
Waldo
leans back into his corner, talking trash, pointing out to Doofus for support.
Azrael
stands motionless in the center of the ring.
Focused.
Grounded.
Ready.
Sam
Duffy:
“A new chapter begins for Azrael here tonight.”
Rick
Granger:
“Or it ends real quick. We’re about to find out.”
The bell
rings and Azrael moves with immediate purpose, stepping forward and dropping
Waldo early before pulling him right back up, keeping the pressure on without
hesitation. There’s no theatrics, no hesitation—just controlled aggression as
he drives Waldo backward across the ring.
Sam
Duffy:
“Azrael looks completely locked in tonight—this is a man determined to prove
something.”
Rick
Granger:
“Yeah, and Waldo’s the unfortunate volunteer.”
Waldo
tries to create space, firing off a quick open-hand chop to the chest, but
Azrael absorbs it and answers right back, cutting him down with a sharp
sequence before snapping into a clean flying head scissors that sends Waldo
tumbling. The pace is entirely dictated by Azrael, who stays one step ahead,
transitioning from offense to offense with a calm intensity that hasn’t been
seen from him before.
He keeps
Waldo grounded, mixing in strikes, a spear that nearly folds him in half, and a
series of counters that leave Waldo scrambling just to survive. Each time
Azrael goes for a cover, Waldo barely escapes, desperation beginning to creep
into every movement.
Sam
Duffy:
“This is control—this is precision. Azrael isn’t rushing… he’s breaking him
down.”
Rick
Granger:
“I don’t like it. He’s too comfortable out there.”
At
ringside, Doofus Covfefe is becoming increasingly frantic, pacing, shouting,
trying to inject energy into Waldo—but nothing is working. Inside the ring,
Azrael continues to dictate the pace, driving Waldo down again with another
clean takedown before rising and watching him carefully, waiting for the next
opening.
Eventually,
Waldo finds it—rolling away, slipping under the ropes, and stumbling out to the
floor in an attempt to regroup.
Azrael
follows.
The crowd
rises as Azrael steps to the outside, never breaking stride. Waldo leans
against the barricade, trying to recover, while Doofus rushes in, getting
directly in Azrael’s path, shouting and waving his arms in a misguided attempt
to intervene.
Azrael
doesn’t say a word.
He simply
reaches past him, grabs Waldo, and lifts him—effortlessly pressing him high
above his head.
The
reaction builds instantly.
Sam
Duffy:
“Azrael has him up—look at the strength!”
Rick
Granger:
“Oh no… Doofus might want to move!”
He
doesn’t.
Azrael
launches Waldo forward—
—and Waldo
crashes directly into Doofus Covfefe, both men collapsing in a heap at ringside
as the crowd erupts.
Azrael
looks down at the damage for just a moment.
Then
calmly turns and rolls back into the ring.
No
urgency.
No
concern.
Just
control.
Outside,
Waldo and Doofus struggle to untangle themselves as Referee “Slow-Count” Sam
begins the count. The crowd joins in, the noise building as Waldo crawls,
reaching—but unable to get clear in time.
Sam
Duffy:
“He may not make it back!”
Rick
Granger:
“They’re stuck on each other! This is unbelievable!”
The count
continues, Waldo desperately trying to free himself—
—but it’s
too late.
The
referee calls for the bell.
WINNER:
AZRAEL (by Count Out)
(Hurl
Out of Ring finish)
Azrael
stands in the center of the ring, breathing steady, composed, showing no
outward celebration—just a quiet acknowledgment of the result as the crowd
responds strongly.
Sam
Duffy:
“Not the way it traditionally ends—but there’s no question who controlled that
match.”
Rick
Granger:
“…Yeah. He didn’t just win—he made a point.”
Outside,
Waldo and Doofus are still recovering from the collision, the embarrassment
evident as Azrael turns and makes his way up the ramp without looking back.
No
theatrics.
No
distractions.
Just a man
beginning to define exactly who he is.
The camera
cuts backstage once again to the HCW Voltage interview set, where Larry
Morton stands ready.
This time,
there’s no delay.
No
waiting.
Because
already in frame…
The
Dynamic Duo.
Chris
“Thunderstrike” Thompson and Mike “the Rebel” Matthews stand
shoulder-to-shoulder—no smiles, no crowd-playing energy. Just intensity.
And
attitude.
The crowd
reaction from the arena is immediate—and noticeably more negative than usual.
Larry
Morton:
“Ladies and gentlemen, I’m joined right now by the challengers in tonight’s
main event—the Dynamic Duo.”
A brief
pause.
Larry
studies them for a moment before continuing.
Larry
Morton:
“Chris, Mike… I want to get right to it. Last week, in your match against Duke
Knight and Biceps Bannerman, you didn’t just walk away with a win—you stole
one. A tainted victory over two of the top champions in this company.”
The crowd
boos faintly in the background.
Larry
Morton:
“And tonight, you’re stepping into a World Tag Team Championship match against
The Samoan Bloodline. So I have to ask—was last week a statement… or a
warning?”
Chris
Thompson smirks slightly, shaking his head.
Chris
“Thunderstrike” Thompson:
“A statement? A warning?”
He leans
in just a bit.
Chris
“Thunderstrike” Thompson:
“Larry… that was reality.”
The crowd
reacts again.
Mike
“the Rebel” Matthews:
“For months—months—we carried this division. We were the ones setting the pace.
The ones putting on the matches people actually remember.”
He
gestures toward the arena.
Mike
“the Rebel” Matthews:
“And what did we get for it?”
A beat.
Mike
“the Rebel” Matthews:
“Nothing.”
More boos.
Larry
Morton:
“So this change in attitude—this shift we’re seeing from both of you—you’re
saying this is about respect?”
Chris lets
out a short laugh.
Chris
“Thunderstrike” Thompson:
“No, Larry.”
He steps
closer, tone sharpening.
Chris
“Thunderstrike” Thompson:
“This is about taking what should’ve already been ours.”
Mike nods,
stepping in beside him.
Mike
“the Rebel” Matthews:
“The Samoan Bloodline—they’re good. Real good.”
A slight
pause.
Mike
“the Rebel” Matthews:
“But they’re champions because the rest of us played nice.”
He shakes
his head.
Mike
“the Rebel” Matthews:
“We’re done doing that.”
The crowd
noise rises again.
Larry
Morton:
“So tonight… no hesitation?”
Chris and
Mike exchange a quick look—then both turn back to Larry.
Chris
“Thunderstrike” Thompson:
“Tonight, we stop asking.”
Mike
“the Rebel” Matthews:
“And we start taking.”
They don’t
wait for another question.
The
Dynamic Duo walk off together—focused, unified, and unapologetic.
Larry
watches them go, then turns back to the camera.
Larry
Morton:
“A very different tone from the Dynamic Duo… and perhaps a very dangerous one
as well. We’ll see how that approach holds up later tonight against the World
Tag Team Champions.”
The camera
fades.
Tony
Calibur:
“Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall!”
The arena
lights shimmer as a bright, upbeat track hits—“Glitter Riot” by Neon Skyline—and
the stage bursts to life with flashes of silver and gold.
Twinkle (of the Tinsel Twins) steps out
first, all energy and sparkle, immediately engaging with the crowd. She spins
once at the top of the stage, throwing her arms wide as the lights reflect off
her gear, creating a dazzling effect.
Behind
her, Sparkle appears briefly at the top of the stage, clapping and
cheering her partner on before pointing toward the ring as if to say, “Go get
it.”
Sam
Duffy:
“Twinkle looking to build off that strong showing last week—she and her sister
took Aurora and Daphne to the limit.”
Rick
Granger:
“Yeah, and now she gets one half of that team all to herself. No safety net
tonight.”
Twinkle
makes her way down the ramp with a bounce in her step, slapping hands with fans
along the way before sliding into the ring and popping up to her feet. She
climbs the turnbuckle and throws her arms up again, soaking in the positive
reaction.
She hops
down, turning her attention to the entrance—ready.
The lights
dim.
A low
rumble rolls through the arena as the screen flickers with flashes of
lightning. Then—“Eye of the Tempest” by Stormbreaker Syndicate hits—and
a crack of thunder echoes as Aurora Storm steps out onto the stage.
Her
presence is immediate.
Focused.
Intense.
Aurora
pauses just long enough to look out at the crowd—then begins her walk to the
ring, steady and deliberate, eyes locked forward.
Sam
Duffy:
“Aurora Storm—power, presence, and precision. One of the most physically
imposing competitors in the women’s division.”
Rick
Granger:
“And she doesn’t need the sparkle and shine either. She just hits you—and you
stay hit.”
Aurora
walks past Sparkle at the top of the ramp—no hostility, just a brief nod of
respect between competitors. She continues down the ramp, never breaking focus,
before stepping onto the apron and entering the ring.
She moves
to her corner, rolling her shoulders, eyes now locked on Twinkle.
Twinkle
bounces lightly on her feet, smiling but focused.
Aurora
stands still, calm, ready.
Two
different styles.
Same goal.
Sam
Duffy:
“Both of these women looking to gain momentum in a very competitive division.”
Rick
Granger:
“Yeah, and tonight—no distractions, no partners—just one-on-one.”
The
referee steps in.
Both women
nod.
The match
is set.
The bell
rings and both women circle cautiously at first, showing mutual respect before
engaging. Aurora Storm quickly uses her strength advantage, snapping Twinkle
back with a sharp hair whip—but Twinkle immediately answers, rolling through
into a smooth sunset flip that nearly catches Aurora early.
Sam
Duffy:
“Quick exchange right there—Twinkle showing she can match Aurora’s power with
speed and technique.”
Rick
Granger:
“Yeah, but speed only gets you so far when someone hits like Aurora Storm.”
Twinkle
keeps the pace high, landing a crisp dropkick and then transitioning into a
surfboard submission, bending Aurora back and forcing her to dig deep. Aurora
refuses to give in, powering through and eventually breaking free before
turning the momentum with a delayed vertical suplex that plants Twinkle firmly
on the mat.
From
there, the match settles into a back-and-forth battle. Aurora uses her strength
to control stretches of the match—dropping Twinkle with powerslams and driving
her down with authority—while Twinkle refuses to stay grounded, constantly
firing back with dropkicks, roll-ups, and submission attempts.
Sam
Duffy:
“This is exactly what we expected—two competitors pushing each other to the
limit.”
Rick
Granger:
“And neither one giving an inch. This is about pride as much as anything else.”
Midway
through, Twinkle nearly steals it with a quick pin reversal, only for Aurora to
counter right back, turning the tables and forcing Twinkle to kick out at two.
Moments later, Aurora delivers a crushing Air Raid Crash over the knee that
looks like it might end things—but Twinkle survives.
The match
stretches on, both women digging deeper with each exchange. Aurora connects
with the Eye of the Storm, but Twinkle manages to stay alive. Twinkle
answers with diving forearms, flying body splashes, and repeated attempts to
lock in the surfboard, testing Aurora’s endurance.
Fatigue
begins to show.
Breathing
gets heavier.
Movements
slow—but the intensity doesn’t.
Late in
the match, Twinkle strings together a series of counters, catching Aurora off
guard with a sunset flip for a near fall that has the crowd on its feet.
Sam
Duffy:
“That was close! Twinkle almost had her!”
Rick
Granger:
“Aurora’s starting to feel it now!”
Aurora
tries to regain control, lifting Twinkle for another heavy impact—but Twinkle
slips free, keeps moving, and refuses to let Aurora reset.
Final
sequence.
Twinkle
ducks in—
Rolls
through—
SUNSET
FLIP!
She holds
it tight—
ONE…!
TWO…!!
THREE!!!
WINNER:
TWINKLE
(Sunset
Flip)
Both women
remain down for a moment, exhausted after a hard-fought battle.
Twinkle
slowly pushes herself up, clearly feeling the effects of the match, while
Aurora sits up across from her, equally worn down.
There’s a
pause.
A look.
No
hostility.
Just
respect.
Twinkle
rises first and extends her hand.
Aurora
looks at it… then nods.
She takes
it.
The two
women shake hands in the center of the ring to a strong reaction from the
crowd.
Sam
Duffy:
“That’s what competition is all about right there. A hard-fought match and
mutual respect at the end.”
Rick
Granger:
“…Yeah, I’ll give them that. They earned it.”
Aurora
gives a slight nod before stepping away, leaving Twinkle to absorb the moment
as the crowd applauds both competitors.
IN-RING
SEGMENT — STEEL JUSTICE
The camera
cuts back to the arena as a steady, driving rock track—“Iron Will” by
Blackforge Anthem—hits the speakers.
The crowd
responds positively as the Heritage Tag Team Champions Steel Justice—Kellyn
“the Raven Archer” Chrisari and Alex “Skyhawk” Justice—walk out
together with purpose. No wasted motion. No theatrics.
Just
presence.
They make
their way to the ring, climb in, and each take a microphone.
Sam
Duffy:
“Here come the Heritage Tag Team Champions—Steel Justice.”
Rick
Granger:
“Yeah, yeah… the ‘standard,’ right? Let’s see what they’ve got to say.”
Alex steps
forward first.
Alex
“Skyhawk” Justice:
“You look around HCW right now… and everybody’s talking about change.”
He
gestures slightly.
Alex
“Skyhawk” Justice:
“New attitudes. New opportunities. New contenders stepping up…Proving they
belong.”
He nods.
Alex
“Skyhawk” Justice:
“Good.”
A small
pop from the crowd.
Kellyn
steps in.
Kellyn
“the Raven Archer” Chrisari:
“Because that’s what competition is supposed to be.”
He looks
out across the arena, calm but firm.
Kellyn
“the Raven Archer” Chrisari:
“But let’s make one thing very clear.”
He taps
the side plate of their title.
Kellyn
“the Raven Archer” Chrisari:
“This division still runs through us.”
The crowd
reacts.
Alex nods,
stepping forward again.
Alex
“Skyhawk” Justice:
“We’re not here to talk about what we’ve done.”
He shakes
his head.
Alex
“Skyhawk” Justice:
“We’re here to show you what comes next.”
Kellyn and
Alex exchange a look—completely in sync.
Kellyn
“the Raven Archer” Chrisari:
“So if you think you’re ready…”
A slight
pause.
Kellyn
“the Raven Archer” Chrisari:
“Step up.”
They lower
the microphones as the crowd responds.
Sam
Duffy:
“A simple message—Steel Justice are ready for anyone.”
Rick
Granger:
“Yeah, but the question is… who’s ready for them?”
Steel
Justice stand tall in the ring as their music hits again, the message delivered
loud and clear.
BACKSTAGE
SEGMENT — “THE TRUTH HURTS” w/ TRUTH WAYNE
The camera
cuts backstage to the brightly lit set of “The Truth Hurts.” A bold
graphic flashes across the screen as the crowd reacts with a mix of boos and
anticipation.
Sitting
center stage, dressed to impress and already smirking—
Truth
Wayne.
Truth
Wayne:
“Ladies and gentlemen… welcome to the only segment on HCW Voltage where you
don’t get hype… you get truth.”
Heavy boos
from the arena.
Truth
soaks it in, adjusting his jacket.
Truth
Wayne:
“And tonight, oh… tonight is special. Because my guest—whether she likes it or
not—is being called the standard bearer of the women’s division.”
He tilts
his head slightly.
Truth
Wayne:
“The Heritage Women’s Champion… Korbi Kong.”
The crowd
pops loudly as Korbi Kong steps into frame, title over her shoulder,
composed and confident. She doesn’t play to Truth—she walks straight in,
focused.
(VO) Sam
Duffy:
“A huge reaction for Korbi Kong—one of the most respected competitors in HCW
today.”
(VO) Rick
Granger:
“Yeah, yeah… let’s see how long that respect lasts in this segment.”
Korbi sits
across from Truth, unimpressed.
Truth
Wayne:
“Korbi, Korbi, Korbi… look at you. Champion. Fan favorite. Walking around like
everything’s just perfect.”
He
gestures toward the title.
Truth
Wayne:
“But let me ask you something real simple… who exactly have you beaten lately
that makes you think you’re the woman in this division?”
The crowd
boos loudly.
Korbi
doesn’t flinch.
Korbi
Kong:
“You brought me out here for that?”
A small
smirk.
Korbi
Kong:
“You want a list… or you want the truth?”
The crowd
reacts.
Truth
leans in, intrigued.
Truth
Wayne:
“Oh, I always want the truth.”
Korbi
steps forward slightly.
Korbi
Kong:
“The truth is… I don’t walk around acting like I’m the best.”
She taps
the title.
Korbi
Kong:
“I go out there and prove it.”
Strong
reaction.
Truth
chuckles, shaking his head.
Truth
Wayne:
“Prove it? Against who? A division that’s still trying to figure itself out?
New faces, teams splitting into singles matches, nobody stepping up—”
Korbi cuts
him off.
Korbi
Kong:
“Then maybe they should.”
Another
pop.
Korbi
Kong:
“Because I’m right here.”
Truth
pauses… then slowly smiles.
Truth
Wayne:
“Ohhh… I like that. I really do.”
He circles
slightly, looking her up and down—not disrespectfully, but calculating.
Truth
Wayne:
“But here’s the problem, Korbi…”
He stops.
Truth
Wayne:
“You don’t get to decide when someone takes that title from you.”
A beat.
Truth
Wayne:
“They decide.”
The crowd
murmurs.
Korbi
doesn’t back down.
Korbi
Kong:
“Then they better be ready.”
She steps
closer, eye-to-eye now.
Korbi
Kong:
“Because I don’t lose it.”
Big
reaction.
Truth
grins—he got what he wanted.
Truth
Wayne:
“Ladies and gentlemen… there you have it.”
He turns
back to the camera.
Truth
Wayne:
“Confidence… conviction… and maybe just a little bit of denial.”
Loud boos.
Korbi
shakes her head, unimpressed, and turns to leave—but pauses just long enough to
raise the title slightly before walking off.
Truth
watches her go, still smiling.
Truth
Wayne:
“Oh, I’m looking forward to seeing how long that lasts.”
(VO) Sam
Duffy:
“Korbi Kong sending a very clear message—she’s ready for whoever steps up.”
(VO) Rick
Granger:
“Yeah, and after that? Somebody just might.”
The
segment fades out.
A gritty,
hard-hitting rock track—“Break the Ground” by Iron Circuit—hits first as
Joe “Jackhammer” Sanders steps out onto the stage.
Joe
doesn’t play to the crowd.
He scans
the arena with a cold, measured look—focused, intense, all business.
A beat
later, the music shifts seamlessly into a faster, high-energy rhythm—“Skyline
Rush” by Neon Altitude—as Noah “High Flyer” Murphy bursts out behind
him, full of energy, throwing his arms up to a strong reaction.
Sam
Duffy:
“An interesting pairing here—Joe Sanders, all power and intensity, alongside
the electrifying Noah Murphy.”
Rick
Granger:
“Yeah, ‘interesting’ is one word for it. Joe looks like he’d rather punch
someone than tag anyone.”
Noah slaps
hands with fans along the ramp, feeding off the energy, while Joe walks
straight ahead, never breaking stride.
They reach
the ring—Joe steps up onto the apron and enters without hesitation, while Noah
springs up, vaulting over the ropes with a quick burst of athleticism that gets
the crowd going.
Noah
climbs the turnbuckle, pointing out to the crowd.
Joe stands
in the corner.
Waiting.
The arena
lights flicker—
Then
surge.
A
powerful, electric riff hits—“Storm Surge” by Voltage Kings—as strobes
flash in rhythm like lightning cracking across the stage.
Thunder
& Lightning—Ethan
Hayes and Rafael Sandoval—step out together, both men locked in and
ready.
Ethan nods
toward the crowd, composed and confident, while Rafael brings a bit more
fire—pumping his fist and feeding off the energy as they stand side by side.
Sam
Duffy:
“Thunder & Lightning—one of the most dynamic teams in HCW today. Power,
speed, and chemistry.”
Rick
Granger:
“Yeah, yeah… they’ve got the look, they’ve got the energy—but tonight, they’ve
got a real fight on their hands.”
The team
makes their way down the ramp together, focused but clearly in sync. They slide
into the ring almost simultaneously, moving to opposite corners before stepping
forward, eyes already on their opponents.
Noah
bounces lightly on his feet, ready to go.
Joe stands
firm, arms crossed briefly before lowering them—locked in.
Across the
ring, Ethan and Rafael exchange a quick nod.
Respect.
But no
hesitation.
Sam
Duffy:
“This one has all the makings of a fast-paced, hard-hitting tag team contest.”
Rick
Granger:
“Four guys, all wanting to prove something. I like it.”
The
referee steps in.
Both teams
ready.
The match
starts fast, with Ethan Hayes immediately taking the initiative,
catching Joe Sanders off guard with a basement dropkick that sends him
backward. Joe answers right back with a hard corner knee smash, reminding
everyone quickly that he’s not here to be outpaced.
Noah
Murphy tags in early, bringing speed into the match, but Thunder &
Lightning stay in rhythm. Ethan keeps the pressure on, working Noah down with
quick, efficient offense before tagging out to Rafael Sandoval, who
keeps the pace high with a mix of striking and aerial attacks.
Sam
Duffy:
“Thunder & Lightning showing exactly why they’re one of the most cohesive
teams in HCW—constant movement, constant pressure.”
Rick
Granger:
“Yeah, but Murphy’s hanging in there—and Joe’s just waiting to get back in and
flatten somebody.”
Noah finds
an opening, turning the tide with a powerful back suplex and then another,
refusing to let Rafael fully take control. The two go back and forth—Rafael
landing a pedigree, Noah answering with powerbombs and counters that keep the
match balanced.
The tempo
builds.
Both teams
begin to string together offense, with quick tags and bursts of momentum.
Rafael lands a superkick that snaps Noah’s head back, but Noah refuses to stay
down, fighting through with a series of suplexes and even landing Murphy’s
Law, nearly putting Ethan away when he tags back in.
Sam
Duffy:
“That might have been it! Murphy had this match won!”
Rick
Granger:
“And somehow Hayes is still in it—this is where experience matters!”
Joe
Sanders finally re-enters the match, bringing a heavier, more aggressive
presence. He throws hard strikes, slowing the pace and forcing Thunder &
Lightning to adjust. But the moment he does, the match shifts again—Ethan and
Rafael begin isolating him, using double-team offense to wear him down.
The action
spills into a chaotic exchange—everyone briefly in the ring, big moves flying
from all sides—before order is restored and Joe finds himself alone against
Thunder & Lightning.
They stay
on him.
Precise.
Relentless.
Joe tries
to fight out of it, landing heavy punches, even locking in a choke to slow
things down—but the damage is done.
Final
sequence.
Joe
swings—
misses—
turns—
OUT OF
NOWHERE—RAFAEL SANDOVAL CONNECTS WITH A SUPERKICK!
No setup.
No signal.
Just
impact.
Joe drops
instantly.
Sam
Duffy:
“Superkick! Rafael caught him out of nowhere!”
Rick
Granger:
“That’s it! That’s all it takes!”
Rafael
drops into the cover immediately.
ONE…!
TWO…!!
THREE!!!
🔔 WINNERS: THUNDER & LIGHTNING
(Rafael
Sandoval – Superkick / Pinfall)
Noah
Murphy is already back in the ring, checking on Joe—but quickly turns to
Thunder & Lightning, nodding in respect.
He steps
forward and offers his hand.
Rafael
accepts.
Ethan
follows.
A clean,
mutual acknowledgment between competitors.
Sam
Duffy:
“That’s what you want to see—respect between four competitors who just gave
everything they had.”
Joe slowly
pulls himself up in the corner.
He
watches.
The moment
lingers.
Noah
glances back at him—waiting.
Joe
finally steps forward, eyes moving between Rafael and Ethan.
A beat
longer than necessary.
Then—reluctantly—he
extends his hand.
They
shake.
Quick.
To the
point.
Joe pulls
away first, turning and exiting the ring without another word.
Rick
Granger:
“Yeah… that felt about right.”
Thunder
& Lightning stand tall as Noah gives one final nod, while Joe heads up the
ramp—still very much walking his own path.
The camera
cuts backstage to Larry Morton standing with the World Tag Team
Champions, the Samoan Bloodline.
A strong
reaction comes from the arena.
Larry
Morton:
“Ladies and gentlemen, I’m here with the World Tag Team Champions—Samoan
Stomper Raku and Tumu ‘the Island Beast’ Vaega. Gentlemen, tonight you defend
those titles against a Dynamic Duo that says they’re done waiting and ready to
take what they believe should be theirs.”
Raku steps
forward slightly, calm and composed.
Samoan
Stomper Raku:
“They can say whatever they want. Talking about taking something and actually
doing it are two very different things. We didn’t become champions by waiting
for opportunities—we earned them, and we’ve kept these titles by making sure
nobody takes them from us.”
The crowd
responds.
Samoan
Stomper Raku:
“If the Dynamic Duo wants to change how this division works, then they can try.
But they’re walking into a match against a team that doesn’t get distracted,
doesn’t lose control, and doesn’t make mistakes when it matters.”
Larry nods
and turns slightly.
Larry
Morton:
“Tumu ‘the Island Beast’ Vaega, your thoughts heading into this match?”
Tumu steps
forward, steady and deliberate.
Tumu
“the Island Beast” Vaega:
“They think tonight is about proving something. For us, it’s not. This is what
we do every time we step into the ring. We take control, we break teams down,
and we leave with what’s ours.”
He looks
directly into the camera.
Tumu
“the Island Beast” Vaega:
“They want to take these titles? Then they better be ready to fight for every
second of it. Because once that bell rings, we don’t give anything away.”
Tumu steps
back.
Raku gives
a slight nod.
Larry
Morton:
“Focused, confident champions. We’ll see if they can hold on to those titles in
our main event—coming up next.”
The camera
fades.
Tony
Calibur:
“Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is your main event of the
evening, and it is for the HCW World Tag Team Championship!”
The crowd
pops.
A
distorted, heavier remix hits—“No Applause Needed” by Iron Verdict—and
the reaction from the crowd immediately turns negative.
Chris
“Thunderstrike” Thompson
and Mike “the Rebel” Matthews step out together… but this is not the
Dynamic Duo the fans once cheered.
No
high-fives.
No crowd
interaction.
No energy
directed outward.
Everything
is inward.
Focused.
Cold. Calculated.
They pause
at the top of the stage, scanning the arena—not soaking it in, but almost
dismissing it.
Sam
Duffy:
“This is a completely different Dynamic Duo than what we’ve seen in the past.”
Rick
Granger:
“And I like it. No distractions, no playing to the crowd—just business.”
Chris
cracks his neck slightly, while Mike gestures toward the ring as if to say this
is ours tonight.
They walk
down the ramp side-by-side, ignoring the boos, ignoring the fans reaching out.
At ringside, they don’t pose—they don’t acknowledge anything.
They slide
into the ring and move to their corner, quietly talking strategy, eyes locked
forward.
No wasted
motion.
No wasted
energy.
The lights
dim.
A deep
tribal drumbeat begins—“War Drums of the Island” by Sons of the Tide—echoing
through the arena as the energy shifts completely.
Then—
Samoan
Stomper Raku
steps out.
Behind
him—
Tumu
“the Island Beast” Vaega.
The crowd
erupts.
This isn’t
flashy.
This isn’t
for show.
This is
presence.
Sam
Duffy:
“The champions have arrived—and listen to this reaction!”
Rick
Granger:
“Yeah… they don’t need to say a word. You can feel it.”
Raku
stands at the top of the stage for a moment, scanning the arena with a calm,
controlled intensity. Tumu stands just behind him, unmoving, a silent force.
They begin
their walk to the ring—measured, deliberate, each step carrying weight.
No wasted
motion.
No
emotion.
Just
purpose.
As they
reach ringside, Raku steps up onto the apron, turning slightly toward the ring
before entering. Tumu follows, stepping over the top rope with ease, his
presence immediately shifting the atmosphere inside the ring.
The
champions move to their corner.
Across
from them—the challengers.
No words
exchanged.
Just
tension.
Tony
Calibur:
“Introducing first… the challengers… at a combined weight of 462 pounds… Chris
‘Thunderstrike’ Thompson and Mike ‘the Rebel’ Matthews… THE DYNAMIC DUO!”
Loud boos.
Chris
smirks slightly.
Mike
doesn’t react.
Tony
Calibur:
“And their opponents… at a combined weight of 610 pounds… they are the reigning
and defending HCW World Tag Team Champions… Samoan Stomper Raku… and
Tumu ‘the Island Beast’ Vaega… THE SAMOAN BLOODLINE!”
Huge
reaction.
Raku
raises one arm slightly.
Tumu
doesn’t move.
Both teams
stand in their corners.
Dynamic
Duo—focused, cold, ready to take.
Samoan
Bloodline—calm, unshaken, ready to defend.
Sam
Duffy:
“Champions versus challengers. Control versus ambition. This is what it’s all
about.”
Rick
Granger:
“Yeah—and somebody’s walking out with everything tonight.”
The
referee steps in, holding up the titles.
The crowd
builds.
The moment
is here.
The bell
rings and the tone is set immediately—The Dynamic Duo come in sharp,
aggressive, and completely in control of the moment. Chris Thompson opens
strong, taking Samoan Stomper Raku off his feet with a clean vertical
suplex before keeping the pressure on with tight, efficient offense.
Raku
absorbs it and tags out quickly to Tumu “the Island Beast” Vaega, but
the challengers don’t let up. Thompson drops Tumu with a DDT, and just like
that, the Dynamic Duo begin dictating the pace early.
Sam
Duffy:
“The challengers came in with a plan—and right now, they’re executing it
perfectly.”
Rick
Granger:
“This is what they were talking about. No waiting, no hesitation—they’re taking
control.”
The match
settles into a rhythm where the Dynamic Duo consistently stay one step ahead.
Quick tags, double-team setups, and well-timed strikes keep the champions from
ever fully settling in. Even when Raku and Tumu fire back—double chops,
headbutts, power offense—the challengers answer right back.
Mike
Matthews begins to take over mid-match, working Raku down with control holds
and strikes before isolating him in the corner with Thompson. The challengers
keep rotating in and out, slowly building momentum while the champions are
forced to react.
Sam
Duffy:
“You can see the difference in approach here—the Dynamic Duo are controlling
every second of this match.”
Rick
Granger:
“And it’s working. The champions are on the back foot.”
Tumu
re-enters and swings momentum briefly with a crushing Super Samoan Splash,
followed by the devastating Island Quake, but even then, the Dynamic Duo
refuse to break. Matthews absorbs it, regroups, and pulls the match right back
into their favor with calculated offense.
The longer
it goes, the more it feels like the challengers are closing in.
Raku tries
to rally—choking Matthews against the ropes, firing off heavy shots—but
Matthews counters, and once again the challengers regain control. Another
double-team sequence lands clean, and now the champions are clearly in danger.
Sam
Duffy:
“The Dynamic Duo have been ahead most of this match—this might be their
moment!”
Rick
Granger:
“They’ve got them exactly where they want them!”
Tumu tags
back in.
Matthews
is still legal.
Both men
collide in the center of the ring—power vs precision—and Matthews fires off
strikes, trying to keep control. Tumu absorbs them… barely moving.
The crowd
starts to build.
Something
shifts.
Tumu steps
forward.
Matthews
throws another shot—
Tumu
doesn’t budge.
Tumu grabs
him.
Drives him
down.
The energy
changes instantly.
Tumu looks
up.
Then—
toward the
top rope.
The crowd
rises, unsure… then realizing.
Sam
Duffy:
“No… no way…”
Rick
Granger:
“Don’t tell me he’s thinking—”
Tumu
climbs.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Every step
heavier than the last.
The entire
arena is on its feet now.
Sam
Duffy:
“This is over 300 pounds going to the top rope—this is not supposed to happen!”
Tumu
reaches the top.
Turns.
Balances—
And
launches.
SUPER
SAMOAN MOONSAULT!!!
The ring
shakes on impact.
The crowd
ERUPTS.
Sam
Duffy:
“HOLY—WHAT DID WE JUST SEE?!”
Rick
Granger:
“THAT’S IMPOSSIBLE! A MAN THAT SIZE DOES NOT DO THAT!”
Tumu hooks
the leg.
ONE…!
TWO…!!
THREE!!!
WINNERS
AND STILL WORLD TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS:
THE
SAMOAN BLOODLINE
(Tumu “the Island Beast” Vaega – Super Samoan Moonsault from the top rope)
For a
moment, nobody moves.
The crowd
is still reacting.
Trying to
process what they just witnessed.
Sam
Duffy:
“The Dynamic Duo controlled so much of this match—but it only takes one moment…
and that was it.”
Rick
Granger:
“Yeah… you can be winning all night—but you can’t prepare for that.”
Raku steps
back into the ring, nodding once at Tumu, who rises slowly, still composed
despite what he just pulled off.
The
champions stand tall as the referee hands them the titles.
Across the
ring, the Dynamic Duo slowly recover—stunned, frustrated, knowing how close
they were.
But one
moment changed everything.
Tumu
stands still.
Raku
beside him.
No
celebration.
Just
control.
The camera
lingers on the ring as The Samoan Bloodline stand tall, titles in hand,
while the crowd is still buzzing from what they just witnessed.
Sam
Duffy:
“I don’t know if I’ve ever seen anything like that, Rick. Tumu ‘the Island
Beast’ Vaega—over 300 pounds—off the top rope with a moonsault to retain the
World Tag Team Championships.”
Rick
Granger:
“You’re not supposed to see that. That’s the kind of thing that changes matches
instantly—and that’s exactly what it did tonight.”
Sam
Duffy:
“The Dynamic Duo had control for so much of that match—they dictated the pace,
they stayed one step ahead—but all it took was one moment. One unbelievable
moment.”
Rick
Granger:
“Yeah, and now they’ve got to live with it. Because they were right there—and
it slipped away in a heartbeat.”
The camera
cuts briefly to a replay angle of the moonsault, the crowd reaction swelling
again.
Sam
Duffy:
“What a night here on HCW Voltage. We saw a major debut as Nyx Evermore proved
she belongs with an impressive victory in Proving Grounds—”
Rick
Granger:
“Azrael backed up all that talk too—took Waldo apart and left him and Doofus in
a pile on the outside.”
Sam
Duffy:
“Twinkle and Aurora Storm delivered a hard-fought, competitive match with
respect shown afterward—”
Rick
Granger:
“And Thunder & Lightning pick up a big win in tag action with that
superkick out of nowhere. That team is dangerous when they’re clicking.”
Sam
Duffy:
“We also heard from Steel Justice, who made it clear the tag division still
runs through them—”
Rick
Granger:
“And don’t forget Korbi Kong on The Truth Hurts—she’s ready for anybody who
wants to step up.”
Sam
Duffy:
“And in our main event—the Samoan Bloodline retain in stunning fashion,
continuing their dominance as World Tag Team Champions.”
The camera
returns to a wide shot of the arena as the champions exit up the ramp.
Sam
Duffy:
“An unforgettable night here on HCW Voltage—momentum shifting, new contenders
rising, and champions proving exactly why they hold the gold.”
Rick
Granger:
“And if tonight showed us anything—it’s that nothing is guaranteed in HCW.”
Sam
Duffy:
“For Rick Granger, I’m Sam Duffy—thank you for joining us. We’ll see you next
time.”
The screen
fades from the arena…
…and cuts
to a dramatic, cinematic presentation.
Bold text
flashes across the screen:
“COMING
SUMMER 2027”
“A Patriot Pictures Production”
“Directed by R. J. Mallory”
“Starring Ed Sanders as Owen Zestwell… as OX.”
A heroic
shot of Owen—now reimagined as OX—carrying a massive log over his
shoulder as explosions echo in the distance and helicopters pass overhead.
Then—
“REVEILLE
AND RELOADED!”
The music
swells.
One final
shot.
“THE
ARMY WILL NEVER BE THE SAME!”
BACK TO
COMMENTARY (VOICEOVER OVER FINAL SHOT)
Rick
Granger:
“…You know what? I’m not gonna lie… I’d watch it.”
A beat.
Sam
Duffy:
“…Of course you would.”
Rick
Granger:
“What? Guy goes from getting knocked around in HCW to carrying logs and barking
orders? That’s range, Sam!”
Sam
Duffy (laughing slightly):
“Well, we’ll see what the future holds for Owen Zestwell—but for now, we wish
him a full recovery.”
The screen
fades to black.
END OF
SHOW
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