Leina Debaillion: "Yeah, sure. I don't trust her for a second."
ONNA stepped through the cage door and into the ring, pacing like a caged animal, her fists clenched.
The lights shifted to a warm, tropical glow as Poema Tua's theme hit the speakers. The Nashville crowd erupted in cheers as Poema emerged onto the stage, her expression calm but resolute. She wore her signature island-inspired ring gear, but the toll of months of warfare was visible—faint bruising still lingered on her ribs, and her movements carried a slight hesitation.
Mia Rivera: "And her opponent, from Pago Pago, American Samoa, weighing in at 124 pounds... POEMA TUA!"
Poema walked down the ramp slowly, her dark eyes never leaving ONNA. She paused at the base of the cage, staring up at the steel structure, then glanced briefly at Seo Hyung Kwon, who stood handcuffed to the mesh.
Biff Franklin: "Poema Tua has been through hell. She's been attacked, injured, and vilified for an accident that was never her fault. Tonight, she has the chance to end this nightmare."
Leina Debaillion: "But she's walking into a cage with a woman who wants to destroy her. Poema's tough, but ONNA is dangerous. This is going to be brutal."
Poema stepped through the cage door. The official locked it behind her with a heavy chain and padlock.
The two women stood across the ring from each other, the steel cage casting shadows across their faces.
Referee Dan Jacobs checked both competitors, then signaled for the bell.
*DING! DING! DING!*
TIME: 0:00 / 40:00+
The bell rang, and ONNA charged immediately.
Poema sidestepped, but ONNA caught her with a brutal forearm to the jaw that sent her stumbling into the ropes. ONNA grabbed Poema by the hair and slammed her face-first into the steel cage mesh.
*CLANG!*
Poema crumpled to the mat, clutching her face.
Biff Franklin: "ONNA is not wasting any time! She wants to hurt Poema Tua!"
Leina Debaillion: "This is what happens when you let anger consume you. ONNA's not here to wrestle—she's here to punish."
ONNA dragged Poema to her feet and whipped her hard into the corner turnbuckles. Poema's back hit the steel with a sickening THUD. ONNA charged in with a running body avalanche, crushing Poema against the cage.
Poema gasped for air, her ribs screaming in pain.
ONNA grabbed Poema by the throat and lifted her onto the second rope, pressing her face against the steel mesh.
ONNA: "YOU DID THIS TO ME! YOU RUINED MY LIFE!"
Poema struggled, but ONNA raked her face across the steel, dragging her skin against the unforgiving metal. Poema screamed.
Biff Franklin: "This is sickening! ONNA is trying to tear Poema apart!"
Leina Debaillion: "She's not just trying to win—she's trying to make Poema suffer!"
ONNA released Poema, who collapsed to the mat, a thin line of blood trickling from a cut above her eyebrow.
TIME: 5:30
ONNA stalked Poema like a predator, grabbing her by the arm and dragging her toward the center of the ring. She hoisted Poema up and delivered a thunderous powerslam that shook the canvas.
Poema arched her back in pain, clutching her ribs.
ONNA didn't go for the door. Instead, she pulled Poema up again and delivered a second powerslam, driving her into the mat with even more force.
Biff Franklin: "ONNA is not interested in escaping! She wants to inflict as much damage as possible!"
Leina Debaillion: "This is personal, Biff. ONNA wants Poema to feel every second of this."
ONNA finally turned toward the cage door, signaling for the official to unlock it. The referee on the outside fumbled with the chain and padlock.
But as ONNA approached the door, Poema grabbed her ankle from behind.
ONNA turned, furious, and kicked Poema hard in the ribs. Poema gasped and released her grip, rolling away in pain.
ONNA turned back toward the door—but Poema, fighting through the agony, lunged forward and grabbed ONNA's leg again, this time wrapping both arms around it and refusing to let go.
Biff Franklin: "Poema Tua is not giving up! She's fighting with everything she has!"
ONNA dragged Poema across the mat, but Poema held on, her face twisted in determination.
Finally, ONNA turned and delivered a brutal stomp to Poema's head, forcing her to release the hold.
TIME: 10:15
ONNA grabbed Poema by the hair and dragged her to her feet. She whipped Poema into the ropes, but Poema ducked under a clothesline attempt and rebounded off the opposite ropes, connecting with a desperation Tropical Twist—a spinning superkick that caught ONNA flush on the jaw!
ONNA staggered backward, stunned.
Poema collapsed to one knee, breathing heavily, blood dripping from the cut above her eye.
Leina Debaillion: "POEMA'S STILL IN THIS! She just bought herself some time!"
Poema forced herself to her feet and stumbled toward the cage door. She dropped to her knees and began crawling toward the exit.
The referee on the outside unlocked the chain and swung the door open.
Poema reached out, her fingertips inches from freedom—
ONNA grabbed her by the ankle and yanked her back into the ring!
Biff Franklin: "NO! ONNA PULLS HER BACK!"
ONNA dragged Poema to the center of the ring and delivered a vicious knee to her ribs. Poema cried out in pain, clutching her side.
ONNA grabbed Poema by the hair and slammed her face-first into the steel cage again.
*CLANG!*
Poema's forehead split open, blood pouring down her face.
Leina Debaillion: "Oh my God, Biff. Poema is bleeding badly. This is getting out of hand."
Biff Franklin: "This is what a steel cage match is, Leina. There are no rules. No mercy."
TIME: 15:45
ONNA pressed Poema's face against the cage mesh, grinding her forehead into the steel. Blood smeared across the metal as Poema screamed in agony.
ONNA: "YOU DESERVE THIS! YOU TOOK EVERYTHING FROM ME!"
Poema, her face covered in blood, grabbed ONNA's wrist and twisted, forcing ONNA to release the hold. Poema spun around and delivered a desperate elbow strike to ONNA's jaw, then followed up with a second, and a third.
ONNA stumbled backward, dazed.
Poema, running on pure adrenaline, grabbed ONNA by the arm and whipped her into the corner. Poema charged in and connected with a running forearm smash, then immediately followed up with a snap Island's End—her German suplex with bridge!
But Poema was too exhausted to hold the bridge. She collapsed to the mat, gasping for air.
Biff Franklin: "Poema Tua is fighting back, but she's running on fumes! She's lost a lot of blood!"
Leina Debaillion: "She needs to get out of that cage now, Biff. She can't take much more of this."
Poema crawled toward the cage door, leaving a trail of blood on the canvas. She reached the ropes and pulled herself up, stumbling toward the exit.
The referee swung the door open.
Poema dropped to her knees and began crawling through—
ONNA grabbed her by the waistband and dragged her back into the ring!
Biff Franklin: "ONNA WILL NOT LET HER ESCAPE!"
ONNA pulled Poema to her feet and delivered a brutal headbutt, splitting open her own forehead in the process. Blood poured down ONNA's face as she staggered backward, but she smiled through the crimson mask.
ONNA: "WE BOTH BLEED TONIGHT!"
TIME: 22:00
Both women were now covered in blood, their faces unrecognizable beneath the crimson. They stood in the center of the ring, exhausted, battered, but refusing to quit.
ONNA threw a wild haymaker. Poema ducked and countered with a spinning backfist. ONNA staggered. Poema followed up with a second spinning backfist, then a third.
ONNA dropped to one knee.
Poema, summoning every ounce of strength she had left, ran to the ropes and rebounded, connecting with a running knee strike that sent ONNA crashing to the mat.
Leina Debaillion: "POEMA'S FIGHTING BACK! SHE'S NOT DONE YET!"
Poema stumbled toward the cage wall, grabbing the steel mesh. She began to climb.
Biff Franklin: "Poema Tua is climbing! She's trying to escape over the top!"
Poema pulled herself up, one painful step at a time. Her hands slipped on the blood-slicked steel, but she kept climbing.
ONNA stirred on the mat, shaking her head to clear the cobwebs. She looked up and saw Poema halfway up the cage.
ONNA forced herself to her feet and stumbled toward the cage wall. She reached up and grabbed Poema's ankle, yanking hard!
Poema's grip slipped, and she crashed hard onto the mat, landing on her injured ribs. She screamed in pain.
Biff Franklin: "ONNA PULLS HER DOWN! Poema's ribs have to be broken!"
Leina Debaillion: "ONNA can't climb, but she's not letting Poema escape either!"
ONNA grabbed Poema by the hair and dragged her to the center of the ring. She hoisted Poema up and delivered a third powerslam, driving her into the canvas with devastating force.
Poema lay motionless, blood pooling beneath her.
ONNA stood over her, breathing heavily, her face a mask of blood and rage.
ONNA: "THIS IS WHAT YOU DESERVE!"
ONNA turned and began crawling toward the cage door.
TIME: 28:30
ONNA reached the ropes and pulled herself up, stumbling toward the open cage door. She dropped to her knees and began crawling through the exit.
One hand touched the floor outside the cage.
The crowd held its breath.
But before ONNA could pull her second leg through, Poema—barely conscious—grabbed the bottom rope and used it to pull herself forward. She reached out and grabbed ONNA's ankle with both hands, holding on with everything she had left.
Leina Debaillion: "POEMA'S NOT LETTING HER GO! SHE'S HOLDING ON!"
ONNA tried to kick free, but Poema's grip was ironclad. ONNA screamed in frustration and pulled herself back into the cage, turning to face Poema.
ONNA grabbed Poema by the throat and lifted her to her feet. She pressed Poema against the cage wall and delivered a series of brutal forearm strikes to her ribs.
Poema gasped for air, her body trembling.
But Poema, her eyes filled with tears and blood, grabbed ONNA's wrist and twisted, forcing ONNA to release the choke. Poema delivered a desperate headbutt, splitting ONNA's forehead open even further.
Both women staggered backward, barely able to stand.
Biff Franklin: "These two women are destroying each other! This has to end soon!"
Leina Debaillion: "I don't know how much more either of them can take, Biff. This is insane."
TIME: 33:00
Poema and ONNA stood in the center of the ring, swaying on their feet, their faces unrecognizable beneath the blood. They locked eyes, and for a brief moment, the hatred between them was palpable.
ONNA threw a wild punch. Poema blocked it and countered with a stiff elbow strike. ONNA staggered. Poema followed up with a second elbow, then a third.
ONNA dropped to one knee.
Poema, running on pure instinct, grabbed ONNA by the arm and whipped her into the corner. Poema charged in and connected with a running forearm smash, then immediately grabbed ONNA and delivered a snap Island's End—her German suplex with bridge!
ONNA crashed hard onto the mat, her body limp.
Poema collapsed beside her, gasping for air.
Biff Franklin: "Poema Tua just hit Island's End! But she's too exhausted to capitalize!"
Leina Debaillion: "She needs to move, Biff! She needs to get out of that cage!"
Poema forced herself to her hands and knees, crawling toward the cage wall. She grabbed the steel mesh and began to climb.
One step.
Two steps.
Three steps.
Her hands slipped on the blood-slicked steel, but she kept climbing.
Biff Franklin: "Poema Tua is climbing again! She's halfway up the cage!"
ONNA stirred on the mat, shaking her head. She looked up and saw Poema climbing.
ONNA forced herself to her feet and stumbled toward the cage wall. She reached up, grabbed Poema's ankle, and pulled with all her remaining strength!
Leina Debaillion: "ONNA'S GOT HER ANKLE! SHE'S TRYING TO DRAG HER DOWN AGAIN!"
Poema kicked desperately, trying to shake ONNA off, but ONNA held on with both hands, her face twisted in rage and desperation.
Biff Franklin: "ONNA refuses to let Poema escape! She's pulling her down!"
Poema clung to the cage with one hand, kicking at ONNA with her free leg. One kick connected with ONNA's jaw, stunning her. A second kick forced ONNA to release her grip.
ONNA staggered backward, dazed and bleeding.
Poema resumed her climb, pulling herself higher.
Leina Debaillion: "POEMA'S FREE! SHE'S CLIMBING AGAIN!"
TIME: 36:45
Poema reached the top of the cage, her body trembling with exhaustion. She swung one leg over the top, straddling the steel structure.
ONNA stood below, looking up at Poema with fury and frustration. She pounded her fists against the cage wall, screaming in rage.
ONNA: "GET DOWN HERE! THIS ISN'T OVER!"
Biff Franklin: "ONNA can't follow her up! She's trapped on the mat!"
Leina Debaillion: "But Poema's fifteen feet in the air, Biff! What is she thinking?!"
Poema, her vision blurred by blood and exhaustion, looked down at the ring below. She looked at ONNA, who stood in the center of the ring, barely able to stand but still defiant.
And then Poema made her decision.
She positioned herself on top of the cage, balancing precariously on the narrow steel beam. She looked down at ONNA one final time.
Leina Debaillion: "Wait... what is she doing?!"
Biff Franklin: "NO! POEMA, DON'T—"
Poema stood up on the top of the cage, balancing precariously on the narrow steel beam. She looked down at ONNA, who stood motionless in the center of the ring, staring up at her.
And then Poema leaped.
*BOOOOOOM!*
Poema executed a perfect Good Night From the Waves—a backflip moonsault—from the top of the fifteen-foot cage, crashing down onto ONNA with devastating force!
The impact shook the entire ring. Both women lay motionless, their bodies broken and bloodied.
Biff Franklin: "OH MY GOD! POEMA TUA JUST HIT GOOD NIGHT FROM THE WAVES FROM THE TOP OF THE CAGE!"
Leina Debaillion: "THAT WAS FIFTEEN FEET, BIFF! FIFTEEN FEET! BOTH OF THEM ARE DOWN!"
The Nashville crowd erupted in a deafening roar, chanting:
"HOLY [BLEEP]! HOLY [BLEEP]! HOLY [BLEEP]!"
TIME: 38:20
Poema lay on top of ONNA, both women completely motionless. Blood pooled beneath them on the canvas.
Referee Dan Jacobs checked on both competitors, waving frantically for medical staff.
But Poema, somehow, began to stir. She rolled off ONNA, gasping for air, her body trembling.
Biff Franklin: "Poema Tua is moving! I don't know how, but she's moving!"
Poema crawled toward the cage door, leaving a trail of blood behind her. Every movement was agony, but she refused to stop.
She reached the ropes and pulled herself up, stumbling toward the open cage door.
ONNA lay motionless in the center of the ring, her body broken.
Poema dropped to her knees and began crawling through the cage door.
One hand touched the floor outside the cage.
Then the other.
Poema pulled herself through, her torso clearing the threshold.
Leina Debaillion: "SHE'S ALMOST OUT! COME ON, POEMA!"
Poema dragged her legs through the door, and both feet touched the floor outside the cage.
*DING! DING! DING!*
TIME: 39:47
Mia Rivera: "Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of this match, by escaping the cage... POEMA TUA!"
The Nashville crowd erupted in thunderous applause and cheers.
Poema collapsed on the floor outside the cage, her body trembling, blood covering her face and torso. Medical staff rushed to her side, but she waved them off, forcing herself to sit up.
Biff Franklin: "Poema Tua has done it! She survived the war! She escaped the cage!"
Leina Debaillion: "I can't believe what we just witnessed, Biff. That moonsault from the top of the cage... I've never seen anything like it. Poema Tua just put her body on the line to end this feud once and for all."
Inside the cage, ONNA lay motionless in the center of the ring. Medical staff entered the cage and immediately called for a stretcher.
AFTERMATH
As medical staff carefully placed ONNA onto a stretcher and began wheeling her out of the cage, Seo Hyung Kwon—still handcuffed to the cage—reached into her jacket pocket with her free hand.
She pulled out a small silver key.
Leina Debaillion: "Wait... is that a key?! She brought her own key?!"
Biff Franklin: "Seo Hyung Kwon came prepared! She's unlocking the handcuffs!"
Kwon quickly unlocked the handcuff around her wrist and sprinted toward the stretcher, shoving medical staff aside.
Seo Hyung Kwon: "ONNA! ONNA, GET UP! WE'RE NOT DONE!"
But before Kwon could reach ONNA, security officers tackled her to the ground, restraining her.
Security Officer: "Ma'am, you need to leave the arena immediately!"
Kwon struggled, screaming as security dragged her up the ramp.
Seo Hyung Kwon: "THIS ISN'T OVER! YOU HEAR ME, POEMA?! THIS ISN'T OVER!"
The crowd booed loudly as Kwon was escorted backstage by security.
Biff Franklin: "Seo Hyung Kwon has been removed from the building! And ONNA is being stretchered out! This feud has finally reached its conclusion!"
Poema Tua sat on the floor outside the cage, her back against the barricade, blood dripping from her face. Jazmin Davis approached cautiously, microphone in hand.
Jazmin Davis: "Poema... can you give us your thoughts?"
Poema looked up, her eyes filled with exhaustion and emotion. She took a deep breath, wincing from the pain in her ribs.
Poema Tua: (quietly) "It was an accident. It was always an accident. But ONNA... she chose this. She chose revenge. She chose hate."
Poema paused, wiping blood from her eyes.
Poema Tua: "I didn't want this. I never wanted this. But tonight... it's over. It's finally over."
Poema forced herself to her feet, refusing medical assistance. She stood on her own, battered and bloodied, but unbroken.
The Nashville crowd gave her a standing ovation.
Biff Franklin: "Poema Tua has survived the war. She has ended the feud. And she is walking out of here under her own power."
Leina Debaillion: "That's a warrior, Biff. That's someone who refused to quit, no matter how much pain she was in. Poema Tua just earned my respect for life."
Poema limped up the ramp, pausing at the top to look back at the steel cage one final time. She nodded slowly, then disappeared through the curtain.
Biff Franklin: "What a match. What an absolute war. ONNA and Poema Tua just tore each other apart, and Poema Tua emerged victorious. This feud is over."
Leina Debaillion: "And now, Poema can finally move forward. She can finally put this nightmare behind her."
The camera lingered on the blood-stained cage as medical staff continued to wheel ONNA up the ramp on a stretcher.
[FADE TO BLACK]
CONFESSIONS
[THE STREET 'RUNNERS' DRESSING ROOM - BACKSTAGE]
A gentle glow of ambient color-changing neon lights illuminated the edges of the dressing room mirror, softly cycling between cool cyan, violet, and electric blue. The Street ‘Runners’ private quarters carried the warm, unmistakable aroma of Nashville hospitality. Laid out across a long craft table off to the side was an elaborate spread of Southern comfort food—crispy fried chicken, homemade biscuits, creamy mac and cheese, smoked pulled pork, and warm cobbler—all presented in a clean, upscale catering display alongside a polished, gleaming espresso machine.
Across the room, a large flatscreen television had been hooked up to a PlayStation 2 console. Two vibrant Dance Dance Revolution dance mats lay smoothed out across the floor, with game cases for DDRMAX and DDRMAX2 resting beside the controllers. Everything had been prepared with meticulous care, ready for a grand post-show victory celebration—but only if Charlie Foxtrot could dethrone Kimberly Hart for the Rising Star Championship.
The door creaked open as Camila Ramos stepped inside. Dressed in her stylish cowgirl boots and denim, she glanced around the unusually quiet room.
In the center of the space stood “The Mystic Phoenix” himself, Charlie Foxtrot. He was already fully dressed in his striking ring attire—boots laced, wrist wraps secured, and mind dialed in. Sitting quietly on a plush dog bed beside his chair was his golden retriever service dog, Gucci, who looked up with a relaxed pant, wagging his tail gently against the floor.
Camila tilted her head, looking around the empty space with a confused expression.
Camila Ramos: "Where's everyone else?"
Charlie finished adjusting his gear and walked past her toward the doorway, gently easing the heavy door shut and turning the lock as a precaution.
Charlie Foxtrot: “I sent them out of the room for a moment because I wanted to talk to you in private.”
Camila raised an eyebrow, a slight smirk playing on her lips.
Camila Ramos: “Me? You wanna talk to little ol’ me?”
Charlie nodded, a faint, genuine smile crossing his face before he glanced down, feeling a warm, subtle blush creep into his cheeks. He took a few steps back toward the vanity, leaning lightly against the edge of the table in front of the illuminated mirror. He inhaled deeply through his nose and let out a slow, steady breath.
Charlie Foxtrot: “Sorry… give me a moment.”
Camila couldn’t help but let out a soft, affectionate chuckle, her eyes softening as she watched him try to compose himself.
Camila Ramos: “Chuck, you always had a way of making me laugh, and even on them bad days.”
Charlie lifted his head and turned back toward Camila. He stepped forward, closing the distance between them, and gently took both of her hands into his own. The sudden warmth of his touch caught Camila off guard, sending a light dusting of red across the Gallopin’ Cowgirl’s sun-kissed cheeks.
Charlie looked at her with complete sincerity.
Charlie Foxtrot: “Camila… I truly thank you, for everything you have done, especially when I was at my low point. I do care about you. You… truly saved my skin. I will dedicate this match to you. I will do my damnedest to win that title and win it for my crew, and especially for you.”
Camila looked down at their joined hands, her heart fluttering, but a flicker of lingering vulnerability surfaced in her voice.
Camila Ramos: “Chuck… I don’t understand. Why? You friend-zoned me.”
Charlie gently released her hands, reaching up to rub his shoulder as he let out a quiet, reflective sigh. The weight of years of grief, trauma, and guarded isolation hung in the space between them, but the heavy shadows behind his eyes had begun to recede.
Charlie Foxtrot: “The wound was still fresh, but over time… I have reflected and done some deep thinking. I have learned to let go of the pain and just live on with my life. Live in the moment.”
He stepped closer, looking straight into her dark brown eyes with the calm, piercing clarity of his soft blue gaze.
Charlie Foxtrot: “This match is for you, Camila, especially since we’re in your hometown.”
Camila’s expression melted, a radiant, emotional smile breaking across her face. Unable to hold back the sudden rush of feelings, she stepped into his chest, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. As she buried her face against his shoulder, a few tears escaped and rolled down her cheeks.
Camila Ramos: (voice cracking slightly) “That means a lot. Thank you, Chuck.”
Charlie wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her close against him before pulling back slightly. Reaching up with his gloved thumb, he gently wiped the moisture from beneath her eyes.
Charlie Foxtrot: “Hey, don’t cry. It's okay. As Dante would always put it, ‘Devils Never Cry.’”
Camila sniffled, letting out a laugh through her tears and nodding firmly.
Camila Ramos: “You’re right.”
Charlie smiled, giving her shoulder an encouraging squeeze as the calm, stoic fire of The Mystic Phoenix returned to his eyes. Gucci stood up from his bed, letting out a sharp, happy bark as if sensing his master's renewed resolve.
Charlie Foxtrot: “Anyways, I gotta get ready to head to my match now. Kimberly Hart will be in for a world of hurt.”
KIMBERLY HART: NO FAIRY-TALE ENDING
[BACKSTAGE - ENTRANCE GORILLA POSITION]
Near the heavy black curtain leading out toward the roaring Nashville arena bowl, the vibrant neon glow of Splatoberfest illuminated backstage interviewer Jazmin Davis. Holding her microphone firmly, Jazmin stood poised and professional in front of the Splat! Wrestling media backdrop.
Beside her, leaning nonchalantly against a steel road case, was the reigning Rising Star Champion, Kimberly Hart. Dressed in her custom ring gear with its signature chaotic flair, Kimberly draped the championship belt casually over her left shoulder. She was humming a disjointed, cheerful melody under her breath, a wide, cherry-lipped grin fixed across her face while she twirled a strand of blonde hair around her finger.
Jazmin Davis: "Ladies and gentlemen, we are just moments away from tonight's main event: a thirty-minute Ironperson Match for the Rising Star Championship. Joining me right now is the defending champion, Kimberly Hart. Kimberly, tonight you step into thirty minutes of grueling, uninterrupted combat against Charlie Foxtrot—a man who has overcome immense personal and professional hurdles, and who has made it abundantly clear that he is dedicating this title match to his crew, this city, and Camila Ramos."
Kimberly gasped dramatically, clasping her hands together against her chest with exaggerated sentimentality before bursting into a sudden, high-pitched giggle.
Kimberly Hart: "Oh, Jazzy... stop, please, you're gonna make me cry! Seriously, are we watching a wrestling pay-per-view or a cheesy daytime soap opera? 'This one's for you, Camila!' 'I'm doing this for my crew!' It is so precious! It really is! But out there in that ring, all that warm, fuzzy emotional baggage isn't armor, honey—it’s a giant, flashing target."
Jazmin Davis: "With all due respect, Kimberly, Charlie Foxtrot earned this opportunity by pinning you in the gauntlet match in New York. He proved he can counter your tactics, and the entire arena tonight feels the momentum behind him. Aren't you underestimating the sheer drive of a challenger fighting with nothing left to lose?"
Kimberly’s grin tilted sideways, her bright eyes widening into an unblinking, unsettling stare that stripped away the goofy veneer in a split second. She stepped forward, closing the space between them and tapping the gleaming gold center plate resting on her shoulder.
Kimberly Hart: "Drive? Heart? Let me let you in on a little secret, Jazmin: people love a sob story. They confuse sympathy with talent. Ever since Charlie walked through the doors of Splat!, everybody’s been waiting for the universe to hand him a happy ending just because he suffered. Well, newsflash: I don't give a damn about fairy tales. I survived the tournament. I took the targets off everyone's back. I took this title, and I beat everyone they put in front of my face."
She spun lightly on her heels, laughing softly before leaning right into the microphone.
Kimberly Hart: "Thirty minutes is a very, very long time to be locked in a cage of your own delusions, Jazzy. Charlie thinks he’s walking into his crowning glory. What he’s actually walking into is thirty minutes of prolonged, agonizing, public humiliation. He can bring his little entourage. He can bring his cowgirl. He can bring that sweet, fluffy golden retriever and all the emotional support in North America to ringside—because once that bell rings, not a single one of them can step between the ropes to save him from me."
Jazmin Davis: "You sound very confident, Kimberly, but thirty minutes leaves zero room for error. If Charlie takes an early lead, you won't have anywhere to hide."
Kimberly tilted her head back, letting out a breathy, chilling laugh that resonated against the staging rigs. Her eyes sparkled with erratic delight as she turned to glare straight into the camera lens.
Kimberly Hart: "Hide? Why would I hide from my favorite new toy? Charlie thinks he’s the Mystic Phoenix rising from the ashes... but by minute thirty, I'm going to blow those ashes away with a sweet little kiss. When I shatter his dreams into a million tiny pieces, Nashville will remember exactly who rules this division."
Kimberly blew a theatrical kiss directly into the camera lens, tapped the championship belt with a smug wink, and turned on her heel, strutting purposefully toward the entrance tunnel into the arena.
Jazmin Davis: "Tensions couldn't be higher. Up next... the Rising Star Championship is on the line!"
MAIN EVENT: RISING STAR CHAMPIONSHIP 30-MINUTE IRONPERSON MATCH
[NASHVILLE MUNICIPAL AUDITORIUM - ARENA]
The lights inside the auditorium dimmed to an electric indigo before flashing into rhythmic pulses of cyan and gold. The sold-out Nashville crowd rose to its feet, sensing the monumental weight of the evening’s final contest.
Mia Rivera: "The following contest is scheduled for one fall... with a THIRTY-MINUTE TIME LIMIT! And it is the MAIN EVENT of Splatoberfest for the RISING STAR CHAMPIONSHIP!"
The speakers blared with heavy synth-wave bass as “Phoenix Rising” roared through the arena sound system.
Mia Rivera: "Introducing first... the challenger! Accompanied to the stage by The Street 'Runners'... from San Diego, California, weighing in at 192 pounds... 'The Mystic Phoenix'... CHARLIE FOXTROT!"
Charlie stepped through the curtain into the roaring auditorium. Flanked by Cyrus Stryker, Proxy, Ronny Rizzo, Shin Yamada, Julie Watanabe, and Camila Ramos—with Gucci sitting obediently on his leash beside Julie near the staging ramp—Charlie looked like a man possessed by pure purpose. Dressed in striking cyan, black, and silver gear, his gaze was fixed entirely on the ring. He slapped hands with Cyrus and Proxy before turning to Camila, who gave him a determined nod. Charlie jogged down the ramp, slid beneath the bottom rope, and climbed the second turnbuckle, throwing his arms wide as the Nashville fans showered him with a deafening cheer.
Biff Franklin: "Here comes a young man whose resilience has been tested inside and outside of this squared circle. Charlie Foxtrot has weathered unimaginable storms in his life, Leina, but tonight he faces the greatest athletic challenge of his career."
Leina Debaillion: "Charlie is the real deal, Biff! He’s got heart, he’s got his crew, and he’s fighting for something way bigger than himself tonight. Kimberly Hart is gonna find out real quick that you can’t intimidate someone who’s already been through hell and back!"
The lights snapped to an ominous, flashing crimson and ultraviolet. A chaotic nursery-rhyme melody warped into an aggressive, distorted industrial trap beat.
Mia Rivera: "And his opponent... from Charlotte, North Carolina... weighing in at 113 pounds... she is the reigning and defending RISING STAR CHAMPION... KIMBERLY HART!"
Kimberly skipped out from behind the curtain, swinging the gleaming Rising Star Championship around her waist like a toy. She wore black and neon pink ring gear with shredded mesh, her hair tied in erratic pigtails, dark smudged eyeliner accentuating a wide, unsettling grin. She skipped down the ramp, mocking the booing Nashville fans, before sliding into the ring and immediately dropping into an eerie spider crawl in the corner, staring unblinkingly at Charlie.
Biff Franklin: "Kimberly Hart has reigned over this division with equal parts brilliance and terrifying unpredictability. Her psychological mind games are without peer, and over thirty minutes, she is as dangerous as they come."
Leina Debaillion: "She’s straight-up crazy, Biff! But she’s dangerous as [BLEEP], and that’s what makes her scary!"
Senior referee Dan Jacobs called both competitors to the center of the ring. He took the Rising Star Championship from Kimberly, holding it high in the air under the bright arena lights.
Mia Rivera: "Referee Dan Jacobs has signaled the thirty-minute time limit! The competitor who scores the most pinfalls or submissions when the time expires will be declared the winner and the RISING STAR CHAMPION!"
Referee Jacobs turned his back to Kimberly, walking toward the ropes to hand the championship belt down to the timekeeper at ringside.
In that split second of distraction, Kimberly Hart's goofy grin vanished into cold malice. Reaching deep into the waistline of her ring tights, she slipped a heavy pair of solid steel brass knuckles over her right fist.
Before Charlie could even raise his hands to defend himself, Kimberly lunged forward and drove the brass knuckles with sickening force directly into the side of Charlie’s temple!
*CRACK!*
The sound echoed off the ringside audio monitors like a gunshot. Charlie’s eyes rolled back instantly, his knees buckling beneath him as he collapsed face-first onto the canvas, motionless.
Kimberly swiftly slid the knucks back into her tights, dropped flat to her knees, and threw herself over Charlie’s limp body just as referee Dan Jacobs turned around, completely oblivious.
Jacobs called for the bell!
**DING! DING! DING!*
TIME: 0:08 / 30:00
Kimberly hooked Charlie’s leg, pressing her chest down with an arrogant, manic smirk.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
*DING!*
Mia Rivera: "At eight seconds... scoring the first fall... the champion, KIMBERLY HART!"
Scoreboard:
Kimberly Hart: 1 | Charlie Foxtrot: 0
Biff Franklin: "WHAT JUST HAPPENED?! Charlie Foxtrot is down, and Kimberly scores an immediate fall in eight seconds!"
Leina Debaillion: "NO WAY! She had to have hit him with something! Look at Charlie, he’s totally unconscious! Ref, check her! That’s total [BLEEP]!"
TIME: 0:35 / 30:00
The rules of the Ironperson match required a five-second reset. The moment Dan Jacobs wiped Charlie’s arms and stepped back, Kimberly didn't even allow Charlie to stir. She grabbed him by his hair, dragged his dead weight into the center of the ring, and dropped a vicious knee across his throat before hooking both legs.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
*DING!*
Mia Rivera: "At thirty-five seconds... scoring her second fall... KIMBERLY HART!"
Scoreboard:
Kimberly Hart: 2 | Charlie Foxtrot: 0
The Nashville crowd erupted in furious boos, pelting the ring with jeers as Kimberly sat on the canvas, clapping her hands and laughing hysterically. At ringside, Camila Ramos slammed her hands against the barricade in agonizing frustration, while Cyrus and Proxy shouted desperately for Charlie to wake up. A thin trickle of dark blood began to seep from the jagged cut on Charlie's hairline where the knucks had shattered the skin.
Biff Franklin: "This is an unmitigated disaster for Charlie Foxtrot! Less than one minute into this thirty-minute Ironperson match, and Kimberly Hart has already built a 2-0 lead!"
Leina Debaillion: "Charlie, please wake up! Get up, man!"
TIME: 1:15 / 30:00
Kimberly stood up, skipping in a circle around Charlie’s prone body. She delivered a pair of sadistic, unprovoked stomps directly into his battered face, wiping a smear of his blood across her own forehead like war paint.
She dropped down, casually hooking his arm with one hand while blowing a kiss to Camila Ramos at ringside.
Jacobs dropped to count again.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
*DING!*
Mia Rivera: "At one minute, fifteen seconds... scoring her third fall... KIMBERLY HART!"
Scoreboard:
Kimberly Hart: 3 | Charlie Foxtrot: 0
Biff Franklin: "Three to zero! Three falls in seventy-five seconds! Kimberly Hart is running away with the Rising Star Championship!"
Leina Debaillion: "This is sickening, Biff! Charlie hasn't even had a chance to defend himself! He’s out cold!"
TIME: 2:30 / 30:00
Kimberly stood tall over Charlie, resting her hands on her hips with a sneer of utter contempt. She placed a single arrogant boot across Charlie’s chest, leaning back against the ropes while pointing mockingly at the referee.
Kimberly Hart: "Count it, Danny boy! Make it four!"
Dan Jacobs dropped to the mat:
ONE!
TWO!
...
*KICKOUT!*
At the very last microsecond, Charlie’s right shoulder jerked off the canvas!
The Nashville Municipal Auditorium exploded into a thunderous roar!
Biff Franklin: "HE KICKED OUT! Charlie Foxtrot somehow gets a shoulder up!"
Leina Debaillion: "YES! HE’S ALIVE! HE’S STILL IN THIS!"
Kimberly’s jaw dropped in genuine shock. Her eyes flashed with immediate fury. She dropped to her knees, grabbing Charlie by his hair and slamming his skull violently into the mat.
Kimberly Hart: "Stay down, you pathetic loser! Stay down!"
For the next fifteen grueling minutes, the match turned into a barbaric, one-sided slaughter. Kimberly operated with ruthless precision. She targeted Charlie’s bloodied head and neck, dragging him to the apron and dropping him across the middle rope before delivering her signature Nightmares are Made Of rope-hung DDT.
**THUD!*
Charlie crashed head-first to the arena floor! Blood now freely streaked down the side of his face, staining his silver and cyan gear. Dan Jacobs began a mandatory twenty-count. Kimberly stood on the apron, taunting the crowd as Charlie dragged his battered body along the floor with pure muscle memory.
TIME: 08:45 / 30:00
At the count of nine, Charlie rolled back into the ring. Kimberly was waiting. She immediately trapped him in the corner, unloading with a barrage of stiff, rapid-fire strikes before backing up and sprinting across the diagonal—nailing Watch Me, her vicious shotgun dropkick, driving Charlie’s head hard into the turnbuckle padding!
She covered him frantically:
ONE!
TWO!
Charlie kicked out again!
TIME: 13:20 / 30:00
Kimberly’s frustration began to mutate into panic. She pulled Charlie into the center of the ring and drilled him with a barrage of Danielson-style From the Streets chest and shoulder kicks. Each strike produced a loud, echoing crack, but with every kick, Charlie’s stoic blue eyes began to refocus. He sat on his knees, absorbing the punishment, his jaw set in cold, unyielding defiance.
Kimberly Hart: "Why won't you just die?!"
Kimberly screamed and drove her fingers directly into Charlie’s mouth, locking in the Apex Crusher (Mandible Claw)!
The arena gasped as Kimberly applied unbearable nerve pressure under Charlie’s tongue, dragging him down to the mat while shouting manic obscenities!
Biff Franklin: "The Apex Crusher! The Mandible Claw is locked in! Charlie’s losing oxygen rapidly!"
Leina Debaillion: "BITE HER! CHARLIE, FIGHT IT! DON'T TAP!"
Charlie’s eyes widened as the pain surged through his jaw. He could hear the Nashville fans chanting his name—a swelling, unified crescendo of ten thousand voices:
"LET'S GO CHARLIE! LET'S GO CHARLIE!"
He looked through the ropes, catching sight of Camila Ramos clutching the barricade, her eyes filled with tears and fierce belief.
Drawing upon every ounce of Marine discipline and survival instinct, Charlie bit down hard on Kimberly’s fingers!
Kimberly shrieked in agony, breaking the hold and clutching her mangled, bleeding hand! Charlie staggered to his feet, wiping the crimson from his brow, his body trembling with raw adrenaline.
TIME: 18:30 / 30:00
Kimberly charged forward in a blind rage, looking for a desperation clothesline, but Charlie ducked under! As she rebounded off the ropes, Charlie caught her mid-stride, hoisting her into the air and driving her into the canvas with a bone-jarring Preem Ride spinebuster!
The arena erupted!
Biff Franklin: "HUGE COUNTER BY CHARLIE FOXTROT! The tide is turning in Nashville!"
Charlie didn't hesitate. Despite his exhaustion, he grabbed Kimberly by the arm, spun her around, and drove his knees into her back with Chromed Up!
Charlie hooked the leg with authority!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
**DING!*
TIME: 19:40 / 30:00
Mia Rivera: "At nineteen minutes, forty seconds... scoring his first fall... CHARLIE FOXTROT!"
Scoreboard:
Kimberly Hart: 3 | Charlie Foxtrot: 1
Leina Debaillion: "THAT'S ONE! That’s one, baby! He’s on the board!"
Kimberly rolled onto the canvas, gasping for air and clutching her spine. The smug, unshakeable confidence that had carried her through the opening minutes was completely gone, replaced by wild-eyed anxiety.
TIME: 22:18 / 30:00
With eight minutes remaining, Kimberly knew the clock was her only ally. She retreated to the outside of the ring, attempting to burn precious seconds. But Charlie refused to let her breathe. He pursued her out to the floor, rolling her back inside.
Kimberly dropped onto all fours, executing her terrifying spider crawl toward him, before springing up to attempt Shattered Dreams!
She twisted his neck, looking to drive him into the mat, but Charlie held his footing! With incredible core strength, Charlie reversed the momentum, spun behind Kimberly, and dropped her across his knee with No Future!
Kimberly bounced off the mat, dazed! Charlie hooked both legs, stacking her up!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
**DING!*
Mia Rivera: "At twenty-two minutes, eighteen seconds... scoring his second fall... CHARLIE FOXTROT!"
Scoreboard:
Kimberly Hart: 3 | Charlie Foxtrot: 2
Biff Franklin: "HE’S WITHIN ONE! Charlie Foxtrot has scored two unanswered falls! The champion is in deep, deep trouble!"
Leina Debaillion: "HE'S GONNA DO IT! THE PHOENIX IS RISING!"
TIME: 24:50 / 30:00
With just over five minutes on the clock, the Nashville crowd was on its feet, creating an deafening wall of sound. Kimberly was visibly hyperventilating. Desperate to protect her lead, she feigned an eye injury to draw referee Dan Jacobs into the corner.
As Jacobs checked on her, Kimberly suddenly reached back and pulled a concealed chain from her boot, attempting to wrap it around her fist. But Charlie saw it coming!
Charlie charged in, intercepting her arm! He delivered a rapid-fire sequence of devastating forearm strikes—the Mantis Blades—snapping Kimberly’s head back with crisp, martial-arts precision!
The chain went flying out of the ring! Charlie hooked Kimberly’s waist, bridging backwards into an airtight German suplex pin!
Jacobs slid into position:
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
**DING!*
Mia Rivera: "At twenty-four minutes, fifty seconds... scoring his third fall... CHARLIE FOXTROT!"
Scoreboard:
Kimberly Hart: 3 | Charlie Foxtrot: 3
Biff Franklin: "WE ARE TIED! THREE TO THREE WITH FIVE MINUTES TO GO!"
Leina Debaillion: "UN-[BLEEP]-ING-BELIEVABLE! THREE TO THREE!"
Kimberly shrieked at the top of her lungs, grabbing chunks of her own hair in disbelief. The arena shook as the fans chanted:
"THIS IS AWE-SOME! *CLAP-CLAP-CLAPCLAPCLAP* THIS IS AWE-SOME!"
Both competitors were battered, bruised, and covered in blood and sweat. Kimberly’s face was smeared with dark mascara and crimson stains, while Charlie’s face was a mask of sheer, unyielding warrior grit.
TIME: 27:30 / 30:00
Kimberly threw caution to the wind. She delivered a savage low blow behind the referee’s back, sending Charlie crashing to his knees! She immediately hooked his head, dropped into a spider twist, and hit Shattered Dreams flush in the center of the ring!
**BOOM!*
The crowd gasped in horror! Kimberly draped her entire body over Charlie!
ONE!
TWO!
...
Charlie got his foot on the bottom rope!
Biff Franklin: "ROPE BREAK! Charlie’s foot was on the ropes!"
Leina Debaillion: "THANK GOD! Keep fighting, Charlie!"
Kimberly began pounding the canvas in manic rage. She stood up, her eyes wide and bloodshot, screaming into the rafters.
TIME: 29:00 / 30:00
Biff Franklin: "ONE MINUTE REMAINING! ONE MINUTE!"
Kimberly grabbed Charlie by both arms, locking in a double underhook—she was setting him up for her ultra-finisher, Kiss2Kill (the double underhook brainbuster DDT)!
Kimberly Hart: "DIE, CHARLIE! DIEEEEE!"
She hoisted him upward, but Charlie used his core momentum to block the lift! He dropped his feet to the mat, wrenched his arms free from her grip, and drove a thunderous European uppercut right under Kimberly’s jaw!
Kimberly stumbled backward into the ropes, completely dazed!
TIME: 29:30 / 30:00
Leina Debaillion: "THIRTY SECONDS LEFT! GO FOR IT, CHARLIE! NOW!"