JoeStar Stanton: “The first time I had a shot at championship glory, I wasn’t ready. I came up short against Kimberly. But trust you me, Ricky... THIS TIME? I’ve stacked too many bodies and put in too many hours to let this slip through my fingers! This is MY time! The time of the JoeStar!”
JoeStar took a step back, locking eyes with his cousin, letting every word land with heavy authority.
JoeStar Stanton: “It is not... the time... of Stanton Enterprises. Just let me do this alone, Ricky. Okay? And when I finally go out there and win the ultimate prize? Don't worry—I'll bring that championship belt straight into Stanton Enterprises headquarters and hang it right on the wall in my old accounting office... you know, the cubicle where you stuck me doing spreadsheets all those years?”
JoeStar let out a rich, hearty laugh.
Ricky stared at his cousin for a long, quiet moment. He looked away, his eyes dropping toward the floor as he absorbed the sheer conviction behind JoeStar's words. Slowly, the arrogant promoter facade faded, replaced by an authentic, proud smile. Ricky looked back up, his expression softening.
Pretty Ricky Stanton: “...It’s time for the JoeStar to rise.”
Ricky extended a hand, then pulled JoeStar into a tight, meaningful embrace. The Nashville crowd responded with a warm wave of cheers.
Pretty Ricky Stanton: “Go make your father proud out there, kid. And make sure you tell him I said hello.”
JoeStar Stanton: “Always.”
They broke the hug, Ricky patting him on the arm one last time before turning on his heel and strolling down the hallway into the arena executive suites.
JoeStar watched him walk away for a brief second, a calm, confident smirk playing across his lips. Shaking out the tension in his hands, he turned toward the entrance curtain and marched down the rampway corridor, heading straight toward the ring.
BACKSTAGE: THE HALLIBURTON FAMILY LEGACY
[NASHVILLE MUNICIPAL AUDITORIUM - LOCKER ROOM]
Backstage, Clayton Halliburton sat completely alone on a cold, blue steel folding chair. His jaw was set in rigid concentration as he carefully wrapped athletic tape around his wrist, pulling each strip taut before smoothing it down across his knuckles in preparation for the five-way Rising Star Championship number-one-contender scramble later in the evening.
A sharp knock echoed against the heavy wooden door. Clayton didn't flinch, keeping his head down and ignoring whoever was on the other side.
A moment later, the knocking returned—louder and more insistent this time. Again, Clayton ignored it, continuing his methodical pre-match routine.
The door creaked open.
Stepping into the room first was an African American man carrying himself with quiet authority, impeccably dressed in a tailored, peach three-piece suit. Following right behind him was a much younger African American woman, her chin tilted up with natural, haughty confidence.
Clayton finally paused his wrist-taping, pulled his attention away from his preparations, and looked up at his unexpected visitors.
Clayton Halliburton: “Dad? Sis? Wasn’t expecting you two to come.”
Randall Williams raised an eyebrow, adjusting the cuffs of his peach blazer.
Randall Williams: “I don’t see why not. This is a huge night for the family.”
Clayton tilted his head slightly to the side, his tone dry and skeptical.
Clayton Halliburton: “Don’t you mean, me?”
Kalisha Williams stepped in front of her father, resting both hands firmly on her hips while sizing her brother up.
Kalisha Williams: “Dad is right... you haven’t done the greatest job pushing the legacy of our family forward since pulling off that stupid mask a year and some change ago. Winning tonight will go a long way toward redeeming yourself.”
Clayton scoffed, shaking his head.
Clayton Halliburton: “Funny. How many professional matches have you worked in the past two years?”
Kalisha simply shrugged her shoulders, utterly unbothered.
Kalisha Williams: “Biding my time. That’s all. You can’t rush a Princess, after all.”
Randall placed a steady, calming hand on his daughter’s shoulder.
Randall Williams: “Enough, you two. Kay, don’t antagonize your brother. He needs to be keyed in.”
Clayton rose to his feet, rolling his taped shoulders. He looked directly at his father, choosing to ignore his sister completely.
Clayton Halliburton: “I appreciate you two showing up. Means a lot. I got this. Endurance is no issue—the only thing I need to do is outlast everyone else and ensure I am the person with the final fall. I'm not a huge fan of chaos. But I’ll manage.”
Randall nodded with firm approval.
Randall Williams: “Good. We’re going to find a monitor backstage to watch. Do us proud.”
Kalisha offered a sugary, venomous smirk as she leaned in slightly.
Kalisha Williams: “Don’t screw up... bastard.”
Randall shot Kalisha a stern, disciplinary glare. Kalisha instantly threw her hands up in mock innocence, batting her eyelashes like she hadn't said a thing.
Clayton gave his sister one final, icy glare. Without another word, he scooped up his towel and pushed past them through the doorway, making his way down the corridor toward gorilla position.
BACKSTAGE: BRANDING AND BITTERNESS
[NASHVILLE MUNICIPAL AUDITORIUM - PRIVATE DRESSING ROOM]
The scene transitioned down the hallway to a private dressing room with a sleek, gold-plated sign taped over the door number: THE ATHERTONS.
Inside, a portable illuminated ring light cast a bright, flawless glow over “Miss Magnifica” Keylla Munoz-Atherton. Dressed in shimmering gold and magenta gear accented with rhinestones, Keylla held her smartphone mounted on a gimbal, checking her angles, smoothing her lip gloss, and filming a quick teaser for her millions of social media followers.
On the other side of the room, “Triple B” Felicia Atherton was pacing the carpet like an agitated thoroughbred, running a manicured hand through her immaculate blonde hair.
Felicia Atherton: “—And it is completely statistically unacceptable, Keylla! Unacceptable! Do you have any idea what it does to my brand to have my unpinned, unsubmitted record compromised by pure, chaotic negligence? I graduated magna cum laude from USC journalism. I understand narrative framing! And right now, the narrative is completely slipping into pedestrian mediocrity!”
Keylla tapped her phone screen, saving the draft to her story with a practiced flick of her manicured thumb, before turning with an amused, sympathetic smile.
Keylla Munoz-Atherton: “Amor, por favor, breathe! You’re going to give yourself forehead wrinkles, and we are under high-definition 4K arena lighting tonight. You know how unforgiving the broadcast feeds can be.”
Felicia Atherton: “I don’t care about the lighting, I care about the principle! We lost tag team matches on the house-show circuit that we should have dominated in under eight minutes. And don’t even get me started on Taylor Landry strutting around catering, bragging about being the very first talent signed to the Shooting Star division. Who gives a damn who signed first? Being first just means you were the most desperate to take whatever contract was thrown at you! I’m Blonde, Bratty, and Better—and I am going to make it my personal mission to eliminate Taylor first in that four-way tonight.”
Keylla stepped away from the vanity, placing her hands on Felicia’s shoulders with a soothing, glamorous poise.
Keylla Munoz-Atherton: “And you will, mi vida. You’re going to twist her into a pretzel and take that Shooting Star Championship. But right now? You need to shift some of that brilliant energy into my aura. Because in about two minutes, I walk through those curtains into that five-way scramble and become the official number one contender for the Rising Star Championship!”
Felicia exhaled sharply, her sharp blue eyes softening just a fraction as she looked at her wife.
Felicia Atherton: “It’s a thirty-minute scramble, Keylla. You’re in there with Ashley Ellis trying to farm internet clout, GT moving like he has something to prove, JoeStar trying to escape his family legacy, and Clayton Halliburton grappling like a man possessed. You can’t just showboat for the hard camera—you have to capitalize on every single pinfall window.”
Keylla gave a dismissive wave of her hand and a radiant smirk.
Keylla Munoz-Atherton: “Oh, please. Clayton has zero charisma, Ashley’s engagement numbers are completely bought, and the boys are going to tire themselves out swinging wildly. Meanwhile, Miss Magnifica is going to do what she does best: steal the spotlight at the exact right second.”
Keylla twirled toward the mirror, admiring the sparkle of her ring gear.
Keylla Munoz-Atherton: “And the moment the referee raises my hand? The celebration is going to break the entire internet, Felicia. I already have the VIP rooftop lounge in downtown Nashville booked. Champagne towers, custom ice sculptures with our initials, exclusive live-stream access for premium tier subscribers, and every top influencer in the Southeast flown in. It’s going to be the most aesthetic championship party in wrestling history.”
Felicia crossed her arms, a reluctant, proud smirk finally breaking across her lips.
Felicia Atherton: “Well... if you’re spending that much of our promotional budget on an afterparty, you had better make sure you actually win the match first.”
Keylla Munoz-Atherton: “Por supuesto. Who trained me, hm? The smartest, baddest submission technician in this company.”
Keylla leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to Felicia’s cheek, careful not to smudge their makeup.
Felicia Atherton: “Flattery will get you everywhere, Mrs. Atherton. Now go out there, exploit their mistakes, and bring that contender spot home. One way or another, tonight Splat! Wrestling realizes the Atherton name runs this entire promotion.”
Keylla Munoz-Atherton: “Watch me trend worldwide, baby.”
Grabbing her custom rhinestone sunglasses, Keylla strutted out of the dressing room with effortless swagger, leaving Felicia adjusting her wrist tape with renewed, cold focus as the countdown to the scramble began.
MATCH TWO: RISING STAR CHAMPIONSHIP #1 CONTENDER 30-MINUTE SCRAMBLE
Biff Franklin: "Welcome back to Splatoberfest live from Nashville, Tennessee! Up next, we have five of the brightest, hungriest competitors in Splat! Wrestling battling for the right to challenge for the Rising Star Championship!"
Leina Debaillion: "And Biff, this match is pure, unadulterated madness! Thirty minutes on the clock, all five wrestlers in the ring at the exact same time! Anyone can score a pinfall or submission, but the ONLY fall that matters is the very last one when that thirty-minute buzzer sounds!"
Biff Franklin: "That's the beauty and the cruelty of the Championship Scramble. You can score five pinfalls in twenty-five minutes, but if someone else pins an opponent with one second left on the clock, they walk out as the number one contender. The strategy in this match has to be calculated down to the millisecond."
Leina Debaillion: "My money is on Gabby. GT has the speed, the ring IQ, and the Heartless in his corner. But every single one of these five has the firepower to steal it!"
In the ring, ring announcer Mia Rivera stood under the center spotlight with microphone in hand.
Mia Rivera: "The following contest is the FIVE-WAY RISING STAR CHAMPIONSHIP NUMBER ONE CONTENDER SCRAMBLE! The rules of the match are as follows: all five competitors will compete simultaneously with a thirty-minute time limit! Pinfalls and submissions can occur at any time, but the competitor who holds the FINAL pinfall or submission when the time limit expires will be declared the winner and the official number one contender for the Rising Star Championship!"
The arena lights shifted to shimmering magenta and gold as pulsating Latin-pop rhythms blasted over the sound system.
Mia Rivera: "Introducing first... from Medellín, Colombia... weighing in at 123 pounds... she is 'Miss Magnifica'... KEYLLA MUNOZ-ATHERTON!"
Keylla strutted through the curtains in dazzling rhinestone-encrusted gear, sporting custom designer sunglasses and holding her phone aloft on a gold gimbal. She blew a kiss to the hard camera, gave a haughty spin at the top of the ramp, and strutted down to the ring, soaking in the thunderous boos from the Nashville crowd.
A blaring, obnoxious pop-synth beat kicked in next, accompanied by vibrant neon graphics flashing TikTok icons across the tron.
Mia Rivera: "Introducing next... from Atlanta, Georgia... weighing in at 135 pounds... 'The Menace'... ASHLEY ELLIS!"
Ashley strode out in bright neon lime and black attire, holding up her phone on a livestream ring-light rig, pointing the camera at the crowd while making exaggerated mocking faces. She slid into the ring, immediately exchanging heated glares and insults with Keylla in the opposite corner.
The arena plunged into stark white spotlights as a hard, heavy industrial rhythm filled the auditorium.
Mia Rivera: "Introducing next... from San Antonio, Texas... weighing in at 225 pounds... CLAYTON HALLIBURTON!"
Clayton emerged with a dark, uncompromising scowl, black towel draped over his neck, dark trunks taped tight. He marched straight down the ramp with total tunnel vision, ignoring the fans entirely. He vaulted into the ring, paced his corner like a caged panther, and pounded his taped fists together.
The sound of classic soul-funk horn blasts hit next, followed by an eruption of cheers.
Mia Rivera: "Introducing next... from Detroit, Michigan... weighing in at 200 pounds... 'THE JOESTAR'... JOSEPH STANTON!"
JoeStar came out wearing blue and silver trunks, pumping his fist to the rhythm of the crowd's cheers. He slapped hands with fans along the guardrail, slapping his chest with fierce determination, looking focused and completely liberated after rejecting Stanton Enterprises' interference earlier in the night.
Finally, the smooth, driving beat of "Heartless" by The Weeknd echoed throughout the Nashville Municipal Auditorium, and the building erupted.
Mia Rivera: "And introducing finally... from San Diego, California... weighing in at 195 pounds... representing The Heartless... G-T!"
GT stepped onto the stage in sharp black, crimson, and gold ring gear, soaking in the roaring ovation. He flashed a confident, million-dollar smile, pointed toward the rafters, and made his way down the ramp with effortless swagger, high-fiving fans before leaping onto the apron and backflipping into the ring.
Referee Dan Jacobs signaled for the official 30:00 countdown clock to appear on the giant arena screens. All five competitors took their positions in the ring, eyes darting from corner to corner.
*DING! DING! DING!*
TIME: 00:00 / 30:00
The bell rang, and the scramble instantly erupted into total pandemonium.
Clayton Halliburton charged across the ring like a guided missile, lunging straight for JoeStar Stanton and driving him into the turnbuckles with clubbing body blows. On the other side, Ashley Ellis and Keylla Munoz-Atherton immediately collided, trading furious forearm strikes and slaps in a battle of influencer supremacy.
GT stood back for a brief second, calculating the chaotic geometry of the ring. When Ashley whipped Keylla toward the ropes, GT stepped in, catching Keylla with a fluid arm drag that sent her skidding across the canvas. Ashley lunged at GT with a wild clothesline, but GT ducked underneath, swept Ashley’s legs out from under her, and nailed a standing shooting star press!
Leina Debaillion: "Look at Gabby moving! Fluid as hell! Get that first pin right now!"
GT hooked the leg, but Clayton broke it up with a brutal stomp to the back of GT's neck at the count of one. Clayton hoisted GT up and hurled him ruthlessly through the ropes to the floor.
JoeStar charged Clayton from behind, grabbing him by the waist and hoisting him high into the air for a stalling, delayed vertical suplex. The crowd counted along as JoeStar held the veteran inverted for eight full seconds before slamming him down into the canvas with the Factory Slam!
Biff Franklin: "Incredible strength by JoeStar Stanton! What power!"
JoeStar turned around—only for Ashley Ellis to blindside him with a dropkick to the knee! As JoeStar stumbled backward, Ashley rolled him up from behind, hooking the tights with both hands while propping her boots up on the middle rope for extra leverage out of the referee's sightline!
Referee Dan Jacobs dropped down to count:
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
*DING!*
Mia Rivera: "The current leader and provisional number one contender... ASHLEY ELLIS!"
TIME: 04:30 / 30:00
Current Leader: Ashley Ellis (1 Fall)
Biff Franklin: "Ashley Ellis steals the first fall of the match! Using every shortcut in the book!"
Leina Debaillion: "That was dirty as [BLEEP], ref! She had her feet all over the ropes! But that's scramble rules for you—it counts on the scoreboard!"
Ashley jumped to her feet, mocking JoeStar by mimicking crying tears for the camera, screaming "Aura up!" toward her livestream feed. But before she could celebrate further, Keylla Munoz-Atherton grabbed Ashley by the hair and yanked her backward into a spinning inverted DDT!
Keylla hooked Ashley's leg:
ONE!
TWO!
Clayton broke it up with a ferocious elbow drop across Keylla's chest.
On the outside, GT pulled himself up from the arena floor, adjusting his jaw. He slid back into the ring just as JoeStar was getting back to his feet. The two men found themselves standing shoulder-to-shoulder as Clayton, Keylla, and Ashley regrouped on the opposite side.
GT leaned in close to JoeStar, speaking low and fast over the roar of the crowd.
GT: "Joe! We keep fighting each other, these three are gonna vulture every damn fall. Let's clean house together. We take them out, then we settle who goes to Splatoberfest like men. You with me?"
JoeStar looked at GT, assessing the offer. He nodded firmly.
JoeStar Stanton: "Let's work."
Leina Debaillion: "Oh, I like this! GT and JoeStar teaming up! That's a powerhouse combination right there!"
GT and JoeStar moved in unison. Clayton charged, but JoeStar stepped forward and caught him with a stiff throat thrust, allowing GT to spring off the middle rope with a flying clothesline that sent Clayton tumbling over the top rope to the concrete!
Ashley and Keylla tried a coordinated strike, but JoeStar intercepted Ashley, lifting her up and driving her into the canvas with a bone-jarring Torque Breaker spinebuster! Meanwhile, GT spun Keylla around, locking her into an arm-trap neckbreaker and planting her flat in the center of the ring.
GT pointed to the downed Keylla, nodding toward JoeStar.
GT: "Take the fall, Joe! Get on the board!"
JoeStar hesitated for a fraction of a second, surprised by the generosity, before dropping down and hooking Keylla's leg with authority!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
*DING!*
Mia Rivera: "The current leader and provisional number one contender... JOESTAR STANTON!"
TIME: 10:15 / 30:00
Current Leader: JoeStar Stanton (1 Fall)
Biff Franklin: "JoeStar Stanton evens up the board and takes the provisional lead! And he owes a big thank-you to GT for setting that table!"
Leina Debaillion: "Gabby is playing chess while everyone else is playing checkers, Biff! He’s building trust, controlling the ring, and pacing himself for the final minutes!"
JoeStar rose to his feet and offered a fist bump to GT. GT smiled, tapped fists with JoeStar, and motioned toward the floor where Clayton was slowly climbing back up onto the apron.
Clayton entered the ring with cold rage in his eyes. He bypassed GT entirely and dove straight at JoeStar's legs, taking him down with a double-leg takedown and immediately transitioning into a crossface armlock. JoeStar bellowed in pain, thrashing against the canvas as Clayton wrenched the shoulder back.
GT stepped in, nailing Clayton with a series of stiff kicks to the ribs to break the hold. But as GT turned to check on JoeStar, Keylla Munoz-Atherton re-entered the fray like a woman possessed.
“¡Cállate, idiota!” Keylla shrieked, raking her manicured nails across GT’s eyes!
GT stumbled back, blinded. Keylla sprinted past him, leaped off the second turnbuckle, and drove both knees directly into the back of Clayton Halliburton’s skull with Double Exposure!
Clayton crashed face-first into the canvas, completely dazed. Keylla immediately hooked Clayton's far leg, grabbing a handful of his trunks and bridging her weight backward for leverage!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
*DING!*
Mia Rivera: "The current leader and provisional number one contender... KEYLLA MUNOZ-ATHERTON!"
TIME: 16:40 / 30:00
Current Leader: Keylla Munoz-Atherton (1 Fall)
Biff Franklin: "Keylla Munoz-Atherton capitalizes! Miss Magnifica puts the Atherton name on top of the leaderboard!"
Leina Debaillion: "Felicia is backstage probably booking that rooftop lounge already! But there are still over thirteen minutes left in this war!"
Keylla dropped to her knees, blowing kisses to all four sides of the arena, screaming in Spanglish into the hard camera. Ashley Ellis slid back into the ring, lunging at Keylla to reignite their brawl, but Keylla caught her with a spinning wheel kick that sent Ashley crashing into the turnbuckle.
JoeStar was back up, wiping sweat from his brow. He rushed Keylla, but Keylla ducked underneath his clothesline and tried to slap him across the face. JoeStar caught her wrist in mid-air, hoisted her up over his shoulder, and ran toward the ropes—launching her over the top rope straight onto Clayton and Ashley on the floor!
The crowd roared as all three crashed in a heap on the thin ringside padding!
Inside the ring, JoeStar turned around to see GT catching his breath against the ropes. GT rubbed his burning eyes, flashing JoeStar a thumbs-up.
GT: "We're running this match, Joe. Keylla's outside, Clayton's down. Let's get me on the board so we control the endgame."
JoeStar nodded, fully buying into the partnership. "I got your back. Let's bring Keylla back in."
JoeStar leaned over the ropes, hauling Keylla back into the ring by her hair. As Keylla stumbled to her feet, JoeStar hit a thunderous Steel Line lariat that nearly turned her inside out!
JoeStar stepped aside, gesturing for GT.
GT sprinted across the ring, leaped off the ropes with an enzuigiri to the temple, hoisted Keylla up into a crisp Falcon Arrow driver, and hooked the leg tightly!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
*DING!*
Mia Rivera: "The current leader and provisional number one contender... G-T!"
TIME: 21:50 / 30:00
Current Leader: GT (1 Fall)
Leina Debaillion: "YES! GABBY GETS HIS FALL! Look at him go! Four different wrestlers have scored now, and GT is in the driver's seat with eight minutes to go!"
Biff Franklin: "Four down, one to go! Clayton Halliburton is the only competitor in this match who has yet to score a fall, and the clock is ticking away rapidly!"
GT got to his feet, chest heaving, his face lit with intense determination. JoeStar clapped him on the shoulder, and for a moment, the two men stood side-by-side in total command of the ring.
Suddenly, Clayton Halliburton rolled back into the ring, his eyes wild and bloodshot with cold fury.
“The mat is sacred!” Clayton growled, his voice cutting through the arena noise.
Clayton charged with terrifying aggression. JoeStar stepped forward to meet him, but Clayton sidestepped, caught JoeStar in a waistlock, and launched him with a devastating German suplex that folded JoeStar’s neck against the mat. GT leaped at Clayton with a flying crossbody, but Clayton caught GT out of mid-air, hoisted him onto his shoulders, and dropped him across his knee with a brutal inverted backbreaker!
Ashley Ellis sprinted into the ring, attempting a sneak rollup from behind on Clayton, but Clayton didn't even budge. He grabbed Ashley by both wrists, spun her around, and hoisted her up into a gutwrench powerbomb, driving her down through the canvas with sickening force!
Clayton didn't hesitate. He dropped his full body weight across Ashley's chest, hooking both legs with unyielding pressure!
Referee Dan Jacobs counted:
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
*DING!*
Mia Rivera: "The current leader and provisional number one contender... CLAYTON HALLIBURTON!"
TIME: 25:30 / 30:00
Current Leader: Clayton Halliburton (1 Fall)
Biff Franklin: "Clayton Halliburton scores! All five competitors have now officially scored at least one pinfall in this match! And with four and a half minutes left, Clayton holds the golden ticket to the Rising Star Champion!"
Leina Debaillion: "Look at Clayton! He’s guarding the center of the ring like a junkyard dog! If nobody scores in the next four minutes, Clayton walks out as the number one contender!"
Clayton stood tall in the center of the ring, chest heaving, shouting at the arena floor: "This is MY ring! The mat is SACRED!"
TIME: 27:00 / 30:00
The clock was relentlessly bleeding away.
Keylla and Ashley were brawling on the outside, exhausted, battering each other into the steel guardrails.
Inside the ring, JoeStar and GT pulled themselves up in opposite corners. They locked eyes. They both knew the situation: Clayton was holding the winning fall, and time was rapidly expiring.
JoeStar charged Clayton first, trading heavy rights and lefts. Clayton fired back with stiff European uppercuts, backing JoeStar toward the ropes. GT saw his opening, sprinting across the ring and hitting a double-team low dropkick to Clayton's knees while JoeStar grabbed Clayton around the throat and delivered a crushing chokeslam!
Clayton rolled out under the bottom rope, landing heavily on the arena floor, gasping for air.
Biff Franklin: "Clayton Halliburton is out of the ring! The provisional leader is incapacitated on the floor!"
Leina Debaillion: "TWO MINUTES LEFT! TWO MINUTES! Someone has to pin someone right now or Clayton wins!"
Inside the ring, only JoeStar Stanton and GT remained standing.
JoeStar turned toward the ropes to check on Clayton’s position on the floor, then turned back toward GT, extending a hand to reset for the final sequence.
JoeStar Stanton: "We got him out, GT! Now let's—"
JoeStar never finished the sentence.
GT's face transformed from allied warmth to cold, calculating ruthlessness. Without warning, GT drove a vicious spinning back kick directly into JoeStar’s solar plexus!
JoeStar gasped, doubling over in sheer shock.
Leina Debaillion: "NO! GABBY, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"
Biff Franklin: "THE BETRAYAL! GT HAS TURNED ON JOESTAR STANTON!"
GT: "I'm going to the top, Joe! Nothing personal!"
GT grabbed JoeStar by the head, dragged him into the center of the ring, spun off the ropes with blinding speed, and unleashes the ALVAREZ—his devastating, signature discus lariat!
*CRACK!*
The lariat landed flush against JoeStar's jaw, turning him completely upside down before he crashed lifelessly onto the canvas!
TIME: 29:30 / 30:00
The crowd was on their feet, screaming in a mixture of shock and sheer adrenaline. The 30-second countdown graphic began flashing red on the giant tron!
30... 29... 28...
GT dropped to his knees, hooking JoeStar's far leg, leaning all of his weight across JoeStar's chest, staring directly into referee Dan Jacobs' eyes!
ONE!
Leina Debaillion: "COUNT IT! COUNT IT, REF! HE'S GOT IT!"
TWO!
20...
Biff Franklin: "IS GT GOING TO STEAL IT AT THE BUZZER?!"
Dan Jacobs' hand rose for the three count—
Suddenly, a shadow fell over GT.
Clayton Halliburton, bleeding from the lip and driven by pure, possessed urgency, slid under the bottom rope! Before Jacobs' hand could hit the canvas for three, Clayton grabbed GT by the waistband of his trunks and the back of his hair, violently yanking him off JoeStar!
12... 11... 10...
GT threw a frantic elbow, trying to break free, but Clayton didn't bother grappling. Clayton hoisted GT into the air, charged the ropes with terrifying momentum, and hurled GT completely over the top rope!
GT flew through the air and crashed with a sickening thud onto the ringside floor, taking out the security barricade!
5... 4... 3... 2... 1...
*BUZZZZZZZZZZ!*
*DING! DING! DING!*
TIME: 30:00 / 30:00 — TIME EXPIRED
Biff Franklin: "THE HORN SOUNDS! TIME HAS EXPIRED!"
Leina Debaillion: "DID GABBY GET IT?! DID HE GET THE THREE COUNT?!"
Referee Dan Jacobs waved his arms frantically in the air, signaling that no pinfall was scored in the final seconds. He pointed to the official timekeeper at ringside, confirming that the last legally recorded pinfall of the match belonged to the man standing in the center of the ring.
Mia Rivera stepped into the ring, holding the microphone with wide eyes.
Mia Rivera: "Ladies and gentlemen... the thirty-minute time limit has expired! By virtue of scoring the FINAL pinfall of the match at the 25:30 mark... the winner of the scramble, and the NEW NUMBER ONE CONTENDER for the Rising Star Championship... CLAYTON HALLIBURTON!"
The Nashville crowd erupted in a thunderous mix of stunned gasps and heavy boos as Clayton Halliburton stood in the center of the ring. His face was a mask of cold, unyielding intensity. He didn't smile. He didn't celebrate with the fans. He dropped to one knee, pressed both palms flat against the canvas, and looked up toward the broadcast booth.
Clayton Halliburton: "THE MAT IS SACRED!"
On the outside of the ring, GT was clutching his ribs against the shattered barricade, staring into the ring with wide, disbelieving eyes. When he realized what had happened, he slammed his fists against the ringside padding in uncontrollable fury, screaming at the referee.
Leina Debaillion: "Dammit! That is straight [BLEEP]! Gabby had the match won! He hit the Alvarez, he had the pin, and Clayton literally threw him out of the ring with five seconds left!"
Biff Franklin: "It may be heartbreaking for GT, but that is the brutal reality of the Championship Scramble! GT played a brilliant tactical game, he turned on JoeStar at the perfect psychological moment, but Clayton Halliburton’s ring awareness saved his title opportunity! Clayton scored the final fall on Ashley, and when it mattered most, he defended that lead with pure ruthlessness!"
Inside the ring, JoeStar Stanton was slowly pushing himself up against the bottom turnbuckle, clutching his jaw where GT's lariat had connected. He stared across the ropes at GT on the arena floor, his eyes filled with bitter disappointment and cold realization. The alliance had been a facade.
On the ramp, Keylla Munoz-Atherton was stomping her feet in frustration, shouting in Spanglish at the referees while checking her ruined makeup in her phone screen, realizing her lavish rooftop celebration would have to wait. Ashley Ellis was slumped against the ring post, clutching her ribs and cursing the camera feed as her stream chat mocked her loss.
Biff Franklin: "All five competitors gave everything they had in an absolute thirty-minute masterclass of stamina and strategy! Every single wrestler got on the board tonight, but Clayton Halliburton emerges from the wreckage as the official number one contender for the Rising Star Championship!"
Clayton stepped through the ropes, marching up the ramp with dark, possessed purpose, his eyes locked on the future, while GT stood on the floor, breathing heavily, swearing revenge as the Nashville crowd buzzed with electric energy.
MATCH THREE: SUPERSTAR CHAMPIONSHIP NUMBER-ONE-CONTENDER FATAL FOUR-WAY
Biff Franklin: "What a night of high-stakes competition we have seen already here at Splatoberfest! But the intensity inside the Nashville Municipal Auditorium is only going to escalate! Up next, four elite veterans—four world-class competitors from the Superstar Division—will collide in a Fatal Four-Way match where the winner walks out as the official number one contender for the newly minted Superstar Championship!"
Leina Debaillion: "And Biff, look who's in this match! Amber Payne! Just an hour ago, she helped her sister Nikki screw my mom out of the title! Now Amber is out here trying to win the number one contender spot for herself! Can you imagine if she wins?! We'd get sister versus sister for the richest prize in Splat! Wrestling!"
Biff Franklin: "That would be a psychological nightmare for the division, but standing in her path are three absolute titans of this industry. Max Ironside, Aaron 'Scarface' Snyder, and Mark 'The Dragon' Cross. There are no count-outs, no disqualifications, and the first person to score a pinfall or submission punches their ticket to the top of the mountain!"
Leina Debaillion: "Every single one of these four has a legitimate claim, but in a four-way, having eyes in the back of your head is the only way you survive without getting your head kicked off!"
In the ring, Mia Rivera stepped under the bright white spotlights, holding the microphone with poise.
Mia Rivera: "The following contest is the SUPERSTAR CHAMPIONSHIP NUMBER ONE CONTENDER FATAL FOUR-WAY! The rules of the match are as follows: the first competitor to score a pinfall or submission will be declared the winner and the official number one contender for the Splat! Wrestling Superstar Championship!"
A heavy, industrial metal beat exploded through the arena sound system, drenched in sinister crimson lighting.
Mia Rivera: "Introducing first... from Charlotte, North Carolina... weighing in at 160 pounds... 'THE HUNTRESS'... AMBER PAYNE!"
The Nashville crowd erupted in a cacophony of deafening boos. Amber stepped out onto the stage with an arrogant, unapologetic swagger, wearing matte-black leather gear with blood-red accents. She raised both arms to soak in the vitriol, a cold smirk plastered across her face. Having just orchestrated Nikki Payne’s title victory earlier in the evening, Amber walked down the ramp with supreme confidence, barking back at fans along the barricade before rolling smoothly into the ring.
A rhythmic, steady rock riff followed, bathed in crisp blue and silver spotlights.
Mia Rivera: "Introducing next... from Cleveland, Ohio... weighing in at 155 pounds... 'THE STEADY HAND'... MAX IRONSIDE!"
Max walked through the curtain in simple, classic navy-blue trunks and taped wrists. His demeanor was calm, composed, and utterly devoid of flash. He received a warm, respectful ovation from the crowd, acknowledging the fans with a subtle nod. Max methodically wiped his boots on the apron, stepped through the ropes, and took his corner, stretching his arms while analyzing every corner of the ring.
A haunting, low-frequency hum resonated throughout the building, followed by sharp, percussive war drums. The lighting shifted to a cold, predatory violet.
Mia Rivera: "Introducing next... from Tokyo, Japan... weighing in at 250 pounds... 'SCARFACE'... AARON SNYDER!"
Aaron marched onto the stage, the prominent facial scars across his cheek and jaw illuminated by the stark spotlights. He carried himself with terrifying physical presence and absolute psychological superiority. He didn't look at the crowd; he looked through them. He stalked down the ramp like a predator closing in on prey, stepped over the top rope effortlessly, and stared down the other competitors with a chilling, dead-eyed smirk.
Finally, the screech of electric guitars blended with traditional taiko drums, and the auditorium erupted into thunderous cheers.
Mia Rivera: "And introducing finally... from Miami, Florida... weighing in at 225 pounds... 'THE DRAGON'... MARK CROSS!"
Mark Cross exploded through the curtain in striking red, gold, and white ring gear. He threw double fist pumps into the air as pyro flared along the entrance stage. The veteran gave high-fives to roaring fans on both sides of the ramp, his eyes burning with fiery determination. Mark bounded up the steel steps, vaulted onto the middle turnbuckle, and let out a warrior’s roar that brought the entire arena to its feet.
Referee Dan Jacobs called all four wrestlers to the center of the ring. The atmosphere was so thick with tension that you could cut it with a knife. Amber glared at Mark; Aaron stared coldly through Max; Max remained perfectly stoic, while Mark paced with intense energy.
Jacobs signaled to the timekeeper.
*DING! DING! DING!*
TIME: 00:00 / 25:00
The bell sounded, and the four veterans did not wait a single millisecond.
Mark Cross immediately lunged forward, colliding with Aaron Snyder in the center of the ring! The two heavyweights traded thunderous forearm strikes that echoed through the auditorium. Meanwhile, Amber Payne charged Max Ironside, backing him into the corner with a relentless flurry of knife-edge chops and heavy body shots!
Aaron drove a knee into Mark’s midsection, whipped him across the ring, and looked for a big boot, but Mark slid underneath the ropes, grabbed Aaron by the ankles, and tripped him hard onto the canvas! Mark pulled himself onto the apron and connected with a springboard flying clothesline that took Snyder down!
Leina Debaillion: "Look at Mark Cross flying early! The Dragon is on fire tonight!"
Across the ring, Max slipped out of Amber’s corner assault, grabbed her arm, and executed a picture-perfect hammerlock transition into a snap Northern Lights suplex with a bridge!
ONE!
TWO!
Amber powered out with authority, shoving Max backward.
Amber rolled to her feet, eyes blazing with fury. She sprinted toward Max, but Max sidestepped with effortless fundamentals, sending Amber crashing shoulder-first into the steel turnbuckle post! Amber tumbled out through the ropes to the arena floor, clutching her shoulder.
Aaron Snyder was back up, shaking off Mark's clothesline. He stepped right into Max’s path, locking eyes with the smaller veteran. Aaron offered a cold, mocking grin, towering over Ironside.
Aaron Snyder: "You don't belong in the ring with the big boys, Max."
Aaron unleashed a vicious open-hand palm strike to Max's chest, but Max barely flinched. Max grabbed Aaron's wrist, dropped his weight, and snapped Aaron's arm over his shoulder in a textbook Fujiwara armbar takedown! Aaron let out a sharp grunt of pain as Max wrenched the elbow joint against the canvas!
Biff Franklin: "Max Ironside targeting the arm of the third-generation star! That ring IQ is unmatched!"
Before Max could fully cinch in the hold, Mark Cross sprinted back into the ring, leaping over Aaron and catching Max with a basement dropkick to the temple, breaking the submission! Mark rolled Max up with a schoolboy!
ONE!
TWO!
Max kicked out, rolling backward to his feet in one continuous, fluid motion.
TIME: 06:15 / 25:00
The crowd was already roaring at the breathless pace. All four competitors were back on their feet, circling one another in a four-way standoff.
Amber rolled back inside, sharing a momentary glance with Aaron. In an instant of unspoken, sinister calculation, the two heels nodded. Aaron lunged at Mark, while Amber charged Max!
Aaron backed Mark into the ropes with heavy kidney punches, then hoisted him high into the air, dropping him with a spine-shattering gutbuster across his knee! On the other side, Amber trapped Max in the corner, unleashing her trademark Final Judgment sequence: a running lariat, a crushing body splash, a brutal hip attack, and a stiff big boot that rattled Max's jaw against the top turnbuckle pad!
Leina Debaillion: "Oh, hell no! Amber and Aaron are teaming up?! That is completely **[BLEEP]**ed up! They're trying to eliminate the competition together!"
Biff Franklin: "It's completely legal in a Fatal Four-Way, Leina! Temporary alliances form and dissolve in seconds!"
Aaron dragged Mark out to the center of the ring, holding him in an inverted front facelock, while Amber climbed to the middle turnbuckle, looking for a diving knee drop across Mark’s exposed chest.
Amber leaped—but Mark suddenly broke free of Aaron’s grip! Mark sidestepped, and Amber crashed knee-first into the empty canvas! Aaron lunged at Mark with a wild clothesline, but Mark ducked, grabbed Aaron around the waist, and executed a breathtaking bridging German suplex!
ONE!
TWO!
Aaron bridged his massive shoulders off the mat at two and a half!
As Mark got up, Amber struck from behind, driving a ferocious roaring forearm into Mark's jaw! Mark stumbled toward the ropes. Amber whipped him across the canvas and caught him with a picture-perfect fisherman swinging neckbreaker!
Amber hooked the leg:
ONE!
TWO!
Max Ironside dove across the ring, breaking the count with a stiff double axe-handle across Amber’s shoulder!
TIME: 11:45 / 25:00
Max seized Amber by the arm, twisting it behind her back and lifting her into the air for his signature Half-Nelson Facebuster, driving her face-first into the canvas with surgical precision!
The crowd roared as Max dropped down to cover Amber:
ONE!
TWO!
Aaron Snyder slid in from behind, wrapping his massive arms around Max's neck in a brutal Skull End Choke!
Aaron pulled Max off Amber, dragging him into the center of the ring while wrenching Max's head backward. Max’s face turned deep crimson as he fought for oxygen, clawing at Aaron’s scarred wrists. Max, relying on his two decades of veteran craftsmanship, walked his feet up the turnbuckle ropes, pushed backward with all of his momentum, and flipped completely over Aaron, rolling him into a pinning predicament!
ONE!
TWO!
Aaron broke the pin, but Max instantly transitioned on the scramble, trapping Aaron’s left arm between his legs for Accessible Parking—the double knee armbreaker into a schoolboy rollup!
ONE!
TWO!
THR—NO! Aaron kicked out by a fraction of a second!
Biff Franklin: "What incredible counter-wrestling by Max Ironside! He nearly stole the victory right out of thin air!"
Aaron rolled to the apron, clutching his hyperextended elbow in agony, his face contorted in rage. Max pursued him, but Aaron caught Max with a vicious jawbreaker over the top rope!
Outside the ring, Amber Payne recovered, stalking around the perimeter. As Aaron stood on the apron, Amber suddenly hooked his legs from behind, yanking Aaron off the apron and driving his face straight into the steel ring steps!
Leina Debaillion: "THERE GOES THE ALLIANCE! Amber Payne doesn't care who you are! She wants that title shot against her sister!"
Biff Franklin: "Every competitor for themselves! Amber sends Aaron face-first into the steel!"
Amber slid back into the ring, where Mark Cross was already waiting.
TIME: 16:30 / 25:00
Mark and Amber squared off in the center of the ring, the Nashville crowd roaring in appreciation for the clash of styles.
Amber unleashed a blistering Shining Wizard, catching Mark flush on the temple! Mark wobbled but refused to go down, his fighting spirit igniting. Amber charged again, but Mark caught her in mid-stride, hoisting her onto his shoulders in an electric chair position, spinning her around, and dropping her directly into a vicious spinning sit-out powerbomb!
*THUD!*
The impact shook the ring! Mark hooked both legs, stacking his weight over Amber!
ONE!
TWO!
THRE—KICKOUT! Amber got her shoulder up at 2.9!
Mark sat back on his knees, running a hand through his sweat-soaked hair, breathing heavily. He hauled Amber up by the hair, looking to set up his legendary Tiger Driver '91, but Aaron Snyder re-entered the ring like an enraged bear!
Aaron grabbed Mark from behind, executing a brutal Mach Punch Rush—rapid-fire shoot-style palm strikes and closed fists straight to Mark’s ribs, chest, and face! The flurry pushed Mark into the corner, dazed and bloodied from the mouth. Aaron hoisted Mark to the top turnbuckle, climbing up alongside him.
Aaron Snyder: "This ends now, old man!"
Aaron hooked Mark for a devastating superplex from the top rope!
Suddenly, Max Ironside and Amber Payne charged beneath them. In a jaw-dropping sequence of sheer power and geometry, Max and Amber grabbed Aaron by the waist, hoisting him onto their shoulders in a double electric chair position while Aaron still held onto Mark!
Leina Debaillion: "TOWER OF DOOM! LOOK OUT BELOW!"
*KABOOOOOOOM!*
All four bodies crashed violently into the canvas in a monstrous four-man superplex-powerbomb combination! The entire ring buckled under the sheer force of the impact! The Nashville Municipal Auditorium rose to its feet, chanting in unison:
“THIS IS WRESTLING! *CLAP-CLAP-CLAP-CLAP-CLAP* THIS IS WRESTLING!”
TIME: 21:00 / 25:00
All four competitors lay motionless across the canvas as referee Dan Jacobs checked on each of them. The physical toll of the match was etched across every face.
Amber was the first to stir, rolling toward the corner. She pulled herself up using the turnbuckle ropes, her eyes fixed on Max Ironside, who was slowly pushing himself to his knees. Amber entered full Huntress Mode, stalking Max from behind.