Aired - August 2, 2025
LEAD COMMERCIAL
🔥💥 SCROOGE TOYS PRESENTS: NPCW CHAMPIONS WAVE 💥🔥
(Cue electric guitar riffs, synths, and pyrotechnics over a glowing neon NPCW logo. A robotic voice chants: “COLLECT… FIGHT… DOMINATE!”)
🎺ANNOUNCER (V.O.): “THIS SUMMER… THE RING GETS COLDER… THE BATTLES GET BOLDER… AND THE CHAMPIONS GET… PLASTIC!!”
[VISUAL: A wrestling ring in the middle of a snow-covered parking lot. Fireworks shoot out of chimneys. A monster truck crashes through a gingerbread house. EBENEZER SCROOGE slides down a candy cane zipline onto a flaming podium of toys.]
SCROOGE (snarling into a gold microphone): “You want CHAMPIONS?! You want CARNAGE?! You want COLLECTIBLES so powerful they’ll chokehold your bank account?! THEN WELCOME TO THE NPCW CHAMPIONS WAVE!”
💪**CURRENT CHAMPIONS! $49.99 Each unless otherwise noted**💪
🎯 NPCW NORTH POLE CHAMPION: RUDOLPH!
With nose-glow power and a glittering title belt. He slays the competition. (Get it?!)
👹 TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS – MISFITS OF MAYHEM: NEGROPOLIS & MADMAN MASON! ($99.99 Each)
Includes BONUS FLIPPERS accessory! These two punch like penguins and drop elbows like glaciers!
🌌 NORTHERN LIGHTS CHAMPION – ABADDON!
Mysterious. Unstoppable. Comes in TWO belt variants—because one soul-devouring title just wasn’t enough.
👑 QUEEN OF THE NORTH – GOLDIE LOCKS!
TWO dazzling variants! Hair of gold, fists of steel!
👱♀️👱♀️ NORTH STAR TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS – THE BLONDE BOMBSHELLS! ($99.99 Each)
Double trouble, double suplexes, double the glitter—triple the volume! (legs not included)
🔥**FORMER CHAMPIONS!** -$69.99 Each unless noted🔥
🎅 NORTH POLE CHAMPION – SANTA CLAUS!
Two wild variants! Belt mysteriously missing... WHO STOLE IT?!
🛷 Comes with the Special Santa Championship Belt! (only in some packages, maybe, we’re not checking.)
🐻 FORMER TAG TEAM CHAMPS – THE POLAR BEARS! ($139.99 each)
They maul, they brawl, and they’re FUR-real! Includes frostbite punch!
🏹 NORTHERN LIGHTS CHAMPION – ROBIN HOOD!
Extremely limited! Short print run—just like his very short title reign!
🐺 NORTHERN LIGHTS CHAMPION – BIG BAD WOLF!
Howls, growls, and powerbombs like a blizzard in a fur coat.
🧙♀️ QUEEN OF THE NORTH – THE WICKED WITCH!
Comes with broom weapon and malicious cackle function! She RULED the ring and your nightmares!
[CUT TO EDDIE “THE EXPERT OF ELOCUTION” ELLINGTON strutting onto the set in jeans, sunglasses, and a vintage NPCW T-shirt.]
EDDIE (in classic Heenan-esque smugness): “You little runts out there think you can handle NPCW CHAMPIONS?! These aren't your baby brother’s toys! These are plastic warriors built to win, smack, and trash talk! I personally supervised every figure. Even the ones I hated. ESPECIALLY the ones I hated!”
[Eddie holds up the Robin Hood figure and flicks it aside dismissively.]
EDDIE: “Shortest reign in NPCW history—this guy lasted less time than Scrooge at a tip jar!”
SCROOGE (laughing maniacally): “COLLECT! FIGHT! DOMINATE! Each figure $49.99 to $139.99—depending on how much you love pain, glory, or… regret!”
🎁ENDING MONTAGE:
Figures body-slamming each other in stop motion!
Flames shoot out of a snowbank!
A kid powerbombs a teddy bear while screaming “I’M THE CHAMPION OF MY HOUSE!”
Voiceover:
“Each figure sold separately. Accessories may vary. Some figures may try to unionize. Not recommended for pacifists. NPCW: Where the coldest fights are the hottest toys!”
🎤FINAL TAGLINE (SHOUTED BY BOTH):
SCROOGE & EDDIE:
“NPCW CHAMPIONS WAVE — COLLECT! FIGHT! DOMINATE!”
SHOW OPENING
[As the commercial fades to black, Polar Power begins with its opening segment …]
(Cue dramatic visuals—icy winds swirling, northern lights glowing, and a deep, powerful voice-over.)
"From the frozen depths of the North… where strength is forged in the heart of winter… This is NPCW's POLAR POWER!"
(Quick montage of NPCW’s fiercest competitors in action—brutal slams, aerial maneuvers, and intense rivalries.)
Spotlighted Moments:
Santa Claus choke slamming a battered Rudolph. The fans in utter shock!
Rudolph squaring off against the four members of Monster Bash – A tense stare-down as Frankenstein’s Monster, Kong, Ogre, and Dragon King slowly advance. Rudolph clenches his fists, preparing to take on the monsters alone.
Big Bad Wolf fighting Nutcracker Captain – Slow-motion impact of Wolf slamming Nutcracker Captain, securing the Northern Lights Championship victory.
Jack Frost and Frosty facing off in a match during their long standing feud.
Blonde Bombshells vs. Wicked Witch & The Coven – Dorothy, Goldie, and Alice wield kendo sticks, expertly fighting off an attack from Wicked Witch, Wicked Willow, Morrigan, and Grizelda in a fierce battle of tactics vs. power.
Mrs. Claus vs. Sugar Plum Fairy – A clash of styles, showcasing Mrs. Claus’s raw power against Sugar Plum Fairy’s aerial agility, ending in a high-risk mid-air counter.
Robin Hood dodging a strike and countering with precision – A showcase of quick reflexes and tactical skill, proving that speed can overcome strength.
Krampus brutalizing an opponent – Heavy strikes, power slams, and ruthless control, proving that no one is safe from his merciless offense.
Santa pinning Belsnickel for the NPCW Championship.
(Heavy drumbeat intensifies—camera cuts to a sweeping view of the roaring crowd.)
"Tonight, the cold doesn’t slow them down—it fuels their fight! Champions will rise, challengers will clash, and the road to glory begins right here!"
"This… is POLAR POWER!"
Brought to you by Scrooge and Marley’s Counting House …
A SPECIAL MESSAGE
(As the opening montage ends, we are met with the familiar voice of Johnny “The Mic” Michaels, who welcomes the NPCW Universe to another unpredictable night of action.)
Johnny “The Mic” Michaels (voice-over):
Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the coldest, boldest, and most chaotic wrestling show on the planet — POLAR POWER! We are LIVE from the iconic North Pole Arena and the temperature ain’t the only thing dropping tonight!
(As the camera sweeps across the excited crowd, we see fans holding up an assortment of handmade signs that reflect the whirlwind of drama from recent episodes.)
FAN SIGNS SPOTTED:
WHY SANTA WHY?
WE WANT FLIPPERS
SANTA ATE FLIPPERS
FREE DAVE KENT
RUDOLPH IS THE GUIDING LIGHT
SANTA 4 LIFE
SANTA CLAUS IS COMING… FOR BLOOD
I SAW FROSTY MELT
TEAM BLITZEN
KRAMPUS IS RIGHT
SCROOGE SUCKS CANDY CANES
TINY TIM DESERVES BETTER
MAKE CHRISTMAS WRESTLING GREAT AGAIN
I FROZE MY BUTT OFF FOR NPCW
SNOW JOKE – THIS SHOW RULES
(The cameras finally settle on the ring, where Smooth Samantha, NPCW’s polished and professional backstage interviewer, stands in a powder blue blazer and silver heels, her poise and charisma on full display. She raises the microphone and smiles with practiced confidence.)
Smooth Samantha:
Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the ring the leadership of the North Pole Championship Wrestling Authority…
(She gestures to the three men standing beside her)
...NPCW Commissioner Bob Cratchit... NPCW Special Advisor Ebeneezer Scrooge... and Director of Rules and Regulations — the ever-observant former elf of the Claus Workshop — Fenwick Grimbough!
(The crowd gives a mixed reaction — some boos for Scrooge, respectful applause for Cratchit, and confused murmurs for Fenwick, who stands stock-still, large velvet bag in hand, with a thin, knowing grin.)
Smooth Samantha:
Commissioner Cratchit has requested this time to address an issue that has... shaken the very snow globe that is the NPCW Universe. Gentlemen — the floor is yours.
(She steps back slightly, giving the microphone to Commissioner Bob Cratchit, who looks like he hasn’t slept in days. He’s disheveled, his scarf is frayed, and his eyes dart around nervously. He fidgets with a crumpled piece of parchment as he steps forward. Scrooge, meanwhile, beams smugly beside him like a cat that finally caught the canary. Fenwick stands impassively, arms crossed, the velvet bag in his arms.)
Commissioner Cratchit (voice trembling):
Tonight, we come before you not as officials... but as guardians of what NPCW is supposed to stand for — joy, spirit, family...
(he pauses, voice cracking)
...and lately, that spirit has been challenged. Last week… what happened…
(he looks down)
...what Santa Claus did...
(The crowd begins to buzz. Boos, cheers, and gasps intermix.)
Scrooge (interrupting, gleefully):
...Was exactly what I’ve been warning you about for years! The red menace has finally revealed his true nature!
(Cratchit turns and glares at Scrooge. Samantha looks taken aback. Even Fenwick shifts slightly, his smirk widening. Cratchit struggles to speak again, but his throat catches. Scrooge leans in and whispers something inaudible to him. Cratchit’s face contorts in silent frustration. He turns back to the mic.)
Commissioner Cratchit (quietly):
I... I can’t do this, Scrooge.
(The crowd murmurs. Scrooge’s smile fades into a cold scowl.)
Scrooge:
Do it, Cratchit. Do it... for your family.
(Suddenly the camera cuts to ringside, where Mrs. Cratchit and Tiny Tim are seated. Tim is solemn, clutching a handmade Rudolph plushie. His mother holds him close. Cratchit sees them — and his eyes begin to well with tears. He straightens, emotion shaking his voice as he speaks with newfound determination.)
Commissioner Cratchit:
Then so be it. For my family... for all families...
(he takes a breath and shouts)
SANTA CLAUS — COME TO THE RING. NOW.
(Instantly, the arena plunges into total darkness. A cold blue mist begins to swirl around the stage as a low, ominous bell tolls in the distance. A blizzard-like fog rolls in across the ramp. The crowd gasps as the mood becomes surreal and haunted.)
(The titantron flickers... and then cuts to black.)
Johnny Michaels (voice-over from commentary):
Something wicked this way comes...
Eddie Ellington:
You wanted Santa, Bob — you’re about to get the real him. The unchained, unforgiving, old man Claus.
(Instantly, the arena plunges into total darkness. The air grows thick. Mist coils up from beneath the stage like tendrils. A low, distorted “HO… HO… HO…” echoes ominously through the loudspeakers. A warped version of Santa’s classic theme song begins — but twisted beyond recognition. The genre is industrial metal laced with gothic horror. The soundscape is a cacophony of clanging chains, ghostly whispers, distorted sleigh bells, and thunderous war drums.)
[Intro – whispered and echoing]
Here comes… here comes…
Santa Claus…
[Verse 1]
Here comes Santa Claus, creeping through the snow,
His boots stomp fire, his eyes aglow.
No merry twinkle, no silent night,
Just screams and shadows in pale moonlight.
Stockings shredded, wreaths in flame,
He rewrites joy into fear and shame.
Children cry, the naughty cheer—
The reckoning comes once a year.
[Chorus]
So run and hide, no use in prayers,
His sleigh is pulled by black nightmares.
From chimney smoke to cracked old halls,
The reckoning’s here—Santa Claus.
[Verse 2]
Forget the gifts, he deals in fright,
A bag of souls, no end in sight.
He marks your name with a blade of ice,
And checks it twice—he’s not so nice.
No milk, no cookies, just broken toys,
He laughs in echoes, destroys your joys.
No “ho ho ho”, just screams instead—
This Santa’s soul is painted red.
[Bridge – growled vocals]
He sees you when you’re sleeping…
He knows just when you’ve fled…
And if you think he’s leaving…
You haven’t bled enough yet.
[Final Chorus – full power]
Run and hide, no use in prayers,
His sleigh is pulled by black nightmares.
From chimney smoke to cracked old halls,
The reckoning’s here… Santa Claus!
[Outro – fading whispers and wind]
Here comes… Santa Claus…
Sleep tight…
(As the brutal anthem roars, the curtains part. From behind the mist and red lights emerge four reindeer — but not the ones fans remember. It’s Cupid, Dancer, Dasher, and Vixen, the male reindeer formerly fired in July. But now… they are reborn. Dark, tormented versions of their past selves. Their festive colors replaced with black and navy combat gear, antlers adorned with jagged metal rings, and glowing red eyes burning with hatred.)
(They pull a towering black iron chariot, draped in torn velvet and adorned with jagged sleigh runners. Riding atop it stands Santa Claus — but not jolly and merry. This is a towering warrior, standing tall, arms crossed. His long, white beard flows like a war banner. He wears a black leather battle suit, reinforced with crimson armor plates. A tattered black and red fur cloak whips behind him. An ornate belt glows faintly with a snowflake sigil. Ritualistic runes and chains adorn his gear — part Viking chieftain, part mythic enforcer. His boots are heavy, his gloves wrapped in golden bands — and his presence is immense.)
(The crowd reacts with an overwhelming wave of boos — but scattered cheers rise too, as awe mixes with fear. Santa grins wickedly and waves to the fans to boo louder. He throws his head back and lets out a guttural HO HO HO, more beast than man.)
(When the chariot reaches the ring, two reindeer kneel, creating steps. Santa descends from the chariot and steps into the squared circle like a conquering general. The lights rise slowly to full power, illuminating the ring in stark red and white contrast.)
(As Smooth Samantha lifts her microphone to speak, Santa calmly walks over, places a single gloved finger on her lips, quieting her instantly. He slowly takes the microphone from her hand and turns to the crowd as they continue to jeer.)
Santa Claus (calmly, darkly amused):
“HO… HO… HO…”
(Santa lets the microphone hang at his side for a moment as he takes a deep breath, scanning the crowd with cold, disdainful eyes. He raises the mic again and speaks in a scornful, mocking tone.)
Santa Claus:
“WHY SANTA, WHY?”
(He chuckles mockingly.)
Let me tell you why.
I gave years — centuries — of my life to this. To you. I spread joy, happiness, and cheer to the ungrateful masses. I carried NPCW on my broad back, and for what? Spoiled milk. Stale cookies. Children sneezing on me. Peeing on me. Slobbering and screaming and taking… and taking... and TAKING.
Generations of gimmedats. Always wanting more. Last year’s game console isn’t enough! No, they want the new one! And the next one! And more, more, more!
But the real betrayal… the true sting... came from someone closer.
Rudolph.
(He sneers at the name.)
Rudolph… you were my friend. I brought you into this business. When the other reindeer laughed at you — I believed in you. I let you lead my sleigh. I let you into my world. We were TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS, damn it. And I carried you to that glory.
And how did you repay me? You called yourself a “Champion of the People.” A fighting champion.
Implying I wasn’t.
You never visited when I was injured. You never checked in. Even as whispers swirled about your legitimacy, I stood by you. I let you shine — and the North Pole Championship rotted your brain.
But here’s the punchline, Rudolph — they don’t even call you the “North Pole Champion” anymore. They call you the NPCW Champion.
Because this company… has outgrown the North Pole.
(Santa turns to face Cratchit. The Commissioner looks caught off guard.)
Isn’t that right… Cratchit?
Commissioner Cratchit (nervously):
Y-yes… yes, you’re right.
Santa Claus:
And the NPCW Universe deserves a bigger, broader, more powerful champion…
Not a red-nosed baby reindeer.
(Scrooge suddenly steps forward with a sly smile.)
Scrooge:
It sure does. Fenwick…?
(Fenwick Grimbough steps forward and ceremoniously opens the velvet bag he’s been holding. From inside, he pulls out a stunning gold and crimson championship belt — gleaming with ornate holiday filigree, magical glyphs, and a large “NPCW UNIVERSAL CHAMPION” plate in the center. Santa’s eyes narrow with dark delight.)
(Cratchit’s shoulders sag as he looks out at the crowd with a mixture of sorrow and obligation.)
Commissioner Cratchit:
The Commissioner’s Office... agrees. NPCW has grown beyond its roots.
And so we hereby retire the North Pole Championship… and recognize the NPCW UNIVERSAL CHAMPIONSHIP as the new primary title of our company.
And by decree of the NPCW Commissioner’s Office… we appoint you, Santa Claus… as its inaugural champion.
(Scrooge claps gleefully as Cratchit holds the belt up. Santa reaches for it slowly, almost reverently, before snatching it with force. He lifts it high over his head as red and white pyro blasts above the ring.)
(The crowd roars with a mix of furious boos and stunned awe.)
Johnny “The Mic” Michaels (commentary):
What the hell are we witnessing?! Santa Claus… Santa Claus is our new Universal Champion!
(Just as Santa lowers the belt to his chest, a new theme hits — regal, defiant, familiar. The crowd explodes with cheers.)
Eddie Ellington:
Wait a second! That’s— THAT’S MRS. CLAUS’S MUSIC!!*
(At the top of the ramp, standing tall and flanked by loyal elf lieutenant Bernard, is a furious-looking Mrs. Claus. She locks eyes with her husband in the ring, her gaze full of fire and resolve.)
Mrs. Claus and Bernard step out, fury in her eyes, a microphone in hand. Her elegant robe billows in the wind, but her posture is pure steel. Bernard stands beside her with arms crossed.
The corrupted reindeer begin to prowl toward them—menacing, growling.
Santa whistles sharply.
They stop in their tracks.
Mrs. Claus:
“AUGUSTUS COLDIRON! What has gotten into you?!”
Santa’s eyes flash. She dare evoke his old name!
Santa:
“Oh, MERIDIANA… You need to wake up. Look what they’re doing to you. These so-called fans? They’ve tossed you aside for blonde bimbos trying to erase your legacy. Come with me. We were meant to rule this place together.”
Mrs. Claus:
(furious) “Unlike YOU, I haven’t forgotten who I am! I am the Champion of Hope and Joy! And I will never abandon the fans!”
Santa:
“Then you’re in for disappointment. Because they will turn on you. Just like they turned on me. And speaking of disappointment…”
He steps forward with venom.
Santa:
“I need to tell you the truth… Your super maple pancakes? They taste like cardboard. I only ate them to spare your feelings. But now we’re being honest? Your cooking sucks.”
The crowd gasps. Mrs. Claus covers her mouth. Her eyes fill with tears. Bernard puts an arm around her.
Santa:
(coldly) “And I’m not Augustus Coldiron anymore. That man disappeared the day Kris Kringle passed me the mantle. And today?”
He raises the belt.
Santa:
“Today… I am no longer Santa Claus. I am no longer your bringer of joy. From this moment on…”
“I AM SINISTER KLAUS—NPCW UNIVERSAL CHAMPION!”
The crowd erupts in thunderous boos.
Mrs. Claus turns and runs backstage, sobbing.
Bernard remains on the ramp—staring down the monster who once was Santa.
Bernard, eyes blazing, snatches the microphone from Samantha’s hand.
Bernard: “HOW DARE YOU!”
Sinister Klaus chuckles darkly, then raises his own mic.
Sinister Klaus: “How dare I? How dare you, old man. Washed up. A shell of an elf. Your so-called ‘glory days’—not that glorious to begin with. You couldn’t even keep your job as Commissioner. You needed to be replaced. And now? You’re a failed manager too. How many titles has Mrs. Claus won under your guidance? ZERO. ZILCH. NADA.”
The crowd boos as Bernard seethes.
Sinister Klaus: (sneering) “So why don’t you fade back into the background with your cute little desk job—the one you begged for? You’re irrelevant, Bernard. Outdated. And soft.”
Bernard steps forward, trembling with fury.
Bernard: “I may be old… but I’m not too old to WHOOP YOUR ASS IN THAT RING. You want to mock my legacy? You want to run down Meridiana and this company? Then how about we settle it—RIGHT NOW!”
Sinister Klaus: (grinning) “BRING. IT. ON.”
The arena explodes with cheers as referees and security scramble toward the ring, trying to prepare for an impromptu match!
THIS WEEK’S LOOKAHEAD
[After the opening montage ends graphics detailing the matches airing tonight begin to display with KC Rogers voicing over the details …]
Johnny: Welcome back folks to Polar Power, and we’re starting things off with a bombshell! I still can't believe what we witnessed—Santa Claus no more. He calls himself Sinister Klaus now... and he's turned his back on EVERYTHING North Pole Championship Wrestling stands for!
Eddie: What do you mean "turned his back"? He finally stood up and said what we’ve all known for years—he carried this place! He’s the REAL North Pole legend! And Bernard? He’s lucky he even made it down the ramp without a walker.
Johnny: And here we go—Bell rings! Bernard launching himself off the top rope with a SPLASH! Old bones still got some spring in 'em!
Eddie: Spring? That was more like a controlled fall. But look at Klaus! He's just smiling—AND HERE COME THE STOCKING STUFFER STRIKES! Like a blizzard of fists!
Johnny: Bernard back up—AND A FLYING DDT! RIGHT INTO THE MAT! The veteran surprises the newly unwrapped Sinister Klaus!
Eddie: That’s called a fluke, Johnny. Even a broken candy cane is right twice a day.
Johnny: Bernard with a move we haven't seen in years—DISPLAY COMMISSIONER AUTHORITY! Throwback time!
Eddie: Please. He should’ve displayed some retirement papers. Because here comes the COAL CRUSHER! Big boot straight from the tundra!
Johnny: And Sinister Klaus is turning up the pressure—KLAUS CRUSH! That bear hug has broken many a man!
Eddie: Crushed gingerbread, Johnny! Bernard's getting squeezed like he owes Santa rent! But somehow—he's still not tapping! Must be the ego.
Johnny: Klaus bounces off the ropes—NAUGHTY LIST! Running leg drop! That nearly took Bernard's buttons off!
Eddie: Can we get a mop out here? Bernard’s soul just spilled all over the mat.
Johnny: Both men digging deep now—Bernard with a DROP KICK! and Klaus responds with the SLEIGH RIDE LARIAT! They’re throwing haymakers in there!
Eddie: It’s like watching someone fight a holiday parade float. Except the float fights back.
Johnny: Oh no—back into the KLAUS CRUSH! For the second time tonight! Bernard might be in real trouble!
Eddie: He should’ve tapped earlier! This is just stubbornness. Or senility. Hard to tell with elves his age.
Johnny: Bernard climbs to the top again—SPLASH FROM THE TOP ROPE! He’s throwing his whole Christmas spirit into this!
Eddie: And Klaus just YEETS him through the ropes with the GIFT WRAP TOSS! That’s how you send a return to sender.
Johnny: Referee Honest Abe with the count… 1… 2… 3… 4—Bernard back in!
Johnny: Bernard’s still fighting—HEADBUTT! Right between the antlers!
Eddie: That’s the first useful thing his head has done since 2007.
Johnny: Another DROPKICK from Bernard! He’s hanging in there!
Eddie: But here comes SLEIGH RIDE LARIAT again! Sinister Klaus will take your lights down and your tree with it!
Johnny: Bernard with one last gasp—DISPLAY COMMISSIONER AUTHORITY! But it might be too late!
Eddie: Because here comes the NORTH POLE DROP! AXE BOMBER! DOWN GOES BERNARD!
Johnny: Klaus is going for the pin—WAIT! Bernard reverses it!
Eddie: WHAT!?
Johnny: Bernard is going for the pin!
Eddie: TURN IT OVER, KLAUS! TURN IT—YES!
Johnny: Sinister Klaus with the counter—he’s got the legs!
Referee Honest Abe: 1… 2… 3!!!
Johnny: HE GOT HIM! SINISTER KLAUS WINS!
Eddie: As it should be, Johnny! Bernard can go back to dusting off his collection of year-old peppermint bark. NPCW belongs to SINISTER KLAUS now!
Johnny: Fans, this was one of the most surreal matches we’ve ever seen. Bernard fought with everything he had, but the newly reborn—and remorseless—Sinister Klaus is a different beast altogether.
Eddie: He's not just Santa gone bad—he’s what happens when December gets MAD. Sinister Klaus is the Universal Champion… and now he’s proved he’s untouchable.
Johnny: Welcome back folks to NPCW Polar Power, and after what we just witnessed with Sinister Klaus, I don't know how we move on… but here comes match two with some big-time bruisers—The Big Bad Wolf from the Wolf Pack taking on the Merry Band's own Friar Tuck!
Eddie: From holy hymns to hospital beds, Tuck’s gonna get a sermon in suffering, Johnny! Look at Big Bad Wolf! That’s a predator with fur and fury.
Johnny: There’s the bell—Wolf rushes in—AND LEVELS TUCK WITH A POWER SLAM! Tuck just got pancaked into the mat!
Eddie: Flattened like communion bread! You love to see it!
Johnny: But Tuck’s not backing down! He counters with a Rolling Scissors—hooks the legs—Wolf powers out but they’re going hold for hold here!
Eddie: And Wolf still comes out on top. He’s got the instinct, the aggression. Tuck's just got... carbs.
Johnny: Now Wolf distracts the referee—wait a minute, that’s Fenrir and Lupin circling the ring!
Eddie: The Pack is watching their alpha eat. This is nature at work, Johnny!
Johnny: Tuck shakes it off—BIG SPLASH from the Friar! He’s got the Wolf rocking!
Eddie: More like rolling, that belly of his almost took out the second rope!
Johnny: Tuck tries the slingshot off the ropes—BUT WOLF COUNTERS! Shakes it off like a fly on his snout!
Eddie: That’s the agility of a primal predator, Johnny! Not some doughy do-gooder with a friar’s fringe!
Johnny: Another exchange—AND THEY BOTH HIT! Savage Spear from Wolf—Rolling Scissors again from Tuck! This is turning into a wild scrap!
Eddie: That’s the last gasp of a man who’s got nothing left but hope and ham, Johnny.
Johnny: LYCAN LOCK! WOLF LOCKS IT IN! DRAGON SLEEPER CINCHED TIGHT!
Eddie: Look at that technique! That’s not just strength—that’s savagery with science!
Johnny: TUCK IS STRUGGLING! HE’S TRYING TO FIGHT—HE TAPS! HE TAPS OUT!
Eddie: HA! Big Bad Wolf howls in victory and Friar Tuck goes back to the abbey to ice that neck! What a win for the Pack!
Johnny: The Wolf Pack stays dangerous—and you know the Merry Band is going to take this personally. We'll be back after this!
Johnny: Folks, up next we’ve got a big one—the in-ring debut of the ominous La Bruja Muerte, accompanied by the entire Witch’s Coven: Wicked Witch, Wicked Willow, and Morrigan!
Eddie: About time we got some real talent in this division. La Bruja Muerte didn’t crawl from the shadows to lose to a glorified gardener, Johnny.
Johnny: Now hold on, Eddie—Mother Earth has been a pillar of strength and grace here in NPCW. Don’t count her out.
Eddie: I’ve seen trees move faster than Mother Earth. And I guarantee you none of them could survive a Blood Moon Bomb!
Johnny: There's the bell and La Bruja opens with a Snap Suplex—but Mother Earth stands firm, neutralizing the move!
Eddie: She's just lucky the Coven hasn’t started working their magic—yet.
Johnny: Both women are trading big moves—Cross Armbreaker from La Bruja, countered by a Powerslam from Mother Earth!
Eddie: Yeah, and here comes the Coven already. Look—Morrigan just locked eyes with Earth. That HYPNOTIZE FOE move is legal... technically.
Johnny: But it didn’t stop Mother Earth from hitting an Alley Oop Facebuster! She’s got fire tonight.
Eddie: Don’t say “fire” around witches, Johnny.
Johnny: It’s back and forth! Spear by Mother Earth, Snap Suplex from La Bruja—neither woman is backing down.
Eddie: I haven’t seen this much action since the Wicked Witch turned a referee into a toad.
Johnny: Another Blood Moon Bomb! La Bruja with elevation and impact!
Eddie: That’s the kind of move you feel in the next dimension. Call the coven, this one’s over!
Johnny: Wait, no! Mother Earth kicks out! She’s responding with Gaia’s Grace—a beautiful 450 splash!
Eddie: HOW is she still in this?! What kind of vitamins is she growing in that greenhouse of hers?!
Johnny: Now a Curse Breaker from La Bruja—followed by a Powerslam from Mother Earth! This crowd is loving it!
Eddie: And so am I! This is the kind of match you show to scare rookies.
Johnny: We’ve got pin attempts—reversals—submission holds—this one is turning into a marathon!
Eddie: La Bruja straps in the STF! C’mon, tap out, Mother Nature!
Johnny: No tap! We’re hitting the 20-minute mark—another Cross Armbreaker—another Suplex—
Eddie: The bell?! That’s it?
Johnny: It’s official, folks. After 20 minutes of brutal back-and-forth action, this match is a draw.
Eddie: A draw?! What a ripoff! La Bruja should have had that won six times over!
Johnny: Say what you will, Eddie, but both women just made a powerful statement here tonight. The Witch’s Coven may have a new weapon... but Mother Earth showed she’s still a force of nature!
Eddie: I need a potion after that one.
SPELLS OF THE COVEN
The camera cuts to the NPCW backstage set, where Smooth Samantha stands poised with a mic in hand. Behind her loom the eerie silhouettes of the Witch’s Coven: Wicked Witch, Wicked Willow, Morrigan, and front and center, the imposing newcomer La Bruja Muerte, her painted skull face still glistening with sweat and menace. The only notable absence is Grizelda.
Samantha: “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m backstage here with the ominous and always unsettling Witch’s Coven, and tonight marked the in-ring debut of their newest member — La Bruja Muerte. A hard-fought battle that ended in a time-limit draw against Mother Earth, but an impressive showing nonetheless. Wicked Witch, your thoughts on this demonic debut?”
Wicked Witch (grinning with a cruel sneer, her green fingers curling around her gnarled wand):
“Impressive? Oh, my dear Samantha, tonight was but a whisper of the storm that is coming. La Bruja Muerte is not simply a wrestler — she is a curse, a weapon forged from the forbidden union of demonic wrath and ancient witchcraft. A being stitched together from blood rituals and shadow spells. And her mission is clear — to bring death... and destruction... to the so-called heroines of the women’s division.”
La Bruja Muerte silently stares ahead, unmoving. The black candle smoke seems to swirl unnaturally around her feet.
Wicked Witch:
“We sent her to test Mother Earth, and she survived everything thrown at her. But our true target is coming. That holly-jolly hypocrite… Mrs. Claus. Your days as the division’s matronly moral compass are numbered. This… creature, this death witch, will burn your cozy legacy to ash.”
Wicked Willow lets out a delighted cackle while Morrigan whispers a low, indistinct incantation, her eyes rolling back slightly.
Samantha (nervously shifting the mic):
“Strong words... and a strong message. But I can’t help but notice a missing member of the Coven tonight. Where is Grizelda? Has she been... replaced?”
Wicked Witch (smiling slowly, her voice dripping with dark confidence):
“Oh no, not replaced. Grizelda has been... elevated. We have sent her south, into the black cathedral halls of the Dark Dominion — to study, to suffer, and to learn. Count Vlad and his ilk in HCW hold arcane knowledge even we have yet to master. When Grizelda returns, she will not be the same snarling beast you remember. No... she will be something... far more dangerous.”
The other Coven members hiss in unison, as if punctuating the prophecy.
Samantha (swallowing hard):
“Well... there you have it, folks. The Witch’s Coven is expanding their power, their reach... and their threats. Back to ringside before the lights start flickering.”
As the camera pulls away, the Coven stands unmoving, a tableau of black magic and brooding menace, with La Bruja Muerte at the center — a silent omen of the chaos to come.
Johnny: Welcome back to Polar Power, folks! And it’s time for what’s sure to be a collision of cosmic proportions! The high-flying Reindeer Coalition’s Comet and Prancer take on the divine fury of the Gods of War—Ares and Mars—with none other than Zeus himself at ringside!
Eddie: Finally! No sleigh bells, no glitter, just raw, unapologetic power from men who were literally worshipped! The Gods of War are about to send these Christmas mascots straight back to the North Pole gift shop.
Johnny: Comet starts things off, but here come Ares and Mars—double team from the start! A SHORT ARM CLOTHESLINE by Ares! And a RUNNING POWER SLAM by Mars! But Comet springs to life with a SHOOTING STAR PRESS! These Reindeer don't stay grounded for long!
Eddie: That’s all fine and dandy until they land in a bearhug and get their ribs cracked like gingerbread. Watch Mars take over now—this guy doesn’t smile, doesn’t blink, just dominates.
Johnny: Mars delivers another RUNNING POWER SLAM! Comet tried to defend but couldn’t find daylight! This double-team barrage from the Gods is brutal!
Eddie: Brutal? It’s glorious! The Reindeer asked for this. They wanted a war, now they're in one!
Johnny: Comet rallies with a REINDEER ONE TWO—what a shot to Ares! Ares staggers and tags out to Mars!
Eddie: I don’t care if they land punches or jingle bells—these mortals are just stalling their demise.
Johnny: Mars applies a BEARHUG now! Squeezing the life out of Comet! Comet makes the smart tag to Prancer!
Eddie: Smart? More like desperate. Here comes “Prancer”—who names themselves that and expects to be taken seriously in a fight?
Johnny: Mars hits a POWER BOMB on Prancer—wait, he’s going for the pin—Prancer reverses it! Small package!
Eddie: NO! That was close! Zeus must be furious!
Johnny: Mars kicks out at two and a half! Prancer with a burst of energy—PULL THE REIGNS CLOTHESLINE connects!
Eddie: And he just tried to swing at Zeus—someone get that sugar cookie outta here!
Johnny: Comet back in! COMET’S CRASH! Diving Headbutt! Mars with another POWER BOMB—this is a war of attrition, folks!
Eddie: Back and forth, but look—Zeus is looming. His presence changes everything. You think those Reindeer have the guts to deal with him?
Johnny: Comet and Prancer go for a double team—REINDEER GORGE from Comet, followed by FACE IN THE MUD from Prancer! Ares trying to rally with a NECK BREAKER! Double teams continue from both sides—this is chaos!
Eddie: Controlled chaos, Johnny. The kind only gods can master.
Johnny: Another double-team on Ares—Reindeer KICK and FOREARM SMASH collide! But here come Ares and Mars again with a devastating GUTWRENCH BACKBREAKER and ELBOW DROP combo! Comet is reeling!
Eddie: The Reindeer Coalition is in over their antlers. I told you—divine power always trumps holiday spirit.
Johnny: Mars tags back in. Comet gets a brief flurry in with a SHOOTING STAR PRESS—he’s not going quietly into the snow-covered night!
Eddie: But watch Zeus—THE OLYMPIAN EYE! Right when the ref’s distracted! That turned the tide completely!
Johnny: That blinding flash just disoriented Comet! He’s stumbling—and now Ares tags back in—NECK BREAKER!
Eddie: Count it, Johnny! 1... 2... 3! YES! The Gods of War stand triumphant!
Johnny: Ares with the pinfall after a NECK BREAKER on Comet—and with Zeus’s “divine” interference helping tip the scales, the Reindeer Coalition comes up short tonight!
Eddie: That wasn’t interference. That was divine will, Johnny. And it’s clear: the Gods of War are here to take over this entire tag division!
Johnny: We are back here at Polar Power and this one is shaping up to be a grudge match! Maid Marion of the Merry Band steps into the ring with the malevolent mistress of the Coven—Wicked Witch, and she is not alone!
Eddie: Of course she’s not alone, Johnny! She’s smart! You don’t see generals marching into battle without their armies! She’s got Willow, Morrigan, and La Bruja Muerte by her side like the four horsewomen of humiliation.
Johnny: But don’t count Marion out! She's got speed, heart, and the North Pole crowd behind her!
Eddie: She’s got speed alright—speed at getting beat!
Johnny: There’s the bell—and Marion wastes no time! She bounces off the ropes—FLAPJACK! No! Wait—Witch reverses it mid-air!
Eddie: That’s what happens when you try fairy-tale nonsense against ancient black magic! Marion just got spell-slammed!
Johnny: Wicked Witch now transitions—oh no! She’s locking it in! That’s the WITCH’S WRATH—that dreadful Muta Lock submission!
Eddie: Oh it’s cinched in tight, Johnny! You can see Marion’s face twistin’ like she smelled the inside of Friar Tuck’s laundry basket!
Johnny: She’s fighting—trying to crawl—no! She’s got nowhere to go! She taps! She taps!
Eddie: HA! Of course she did! And that’s what happens when you bring a bow and arrow to a demonic cauldron fight! This is what the Coven does, Johnny—they dominate!
Johnny: Wicked Witch wins decisively here tonight, and the Coven stands tall—ominous as ever. And folks, if this is any indication of what La Bruja Muerte has planned for Mrs. Claus, we may be heading toward a very dark winter...
Eddie: Say it louder for the reindeer in the cheap seats, Johnny! The Witch is wicked and business is booming! Ho-ho-NO!
The lights in the arena flicker unexpectedly just as the Coven exits the ring. The feed distorts—audio warps like a chewed VHS tape—and suddenly the screen jerks to black-and-white static before resolving into a familiar, grungy scene: the cracked cinderblock walls of The Bunker.
A single fluorescent light above buzzes and flickers like it’s trying to give up. In front of the wall, hunched behind a metal folding table littered with old coffee mugs and NPCW memorabilia turned sideways, sits the ever-defiant Dave “The Brute” Kent. Black wrestling mask. Rumpled suit. Cold eyes. He leans into a battered desktop mic, his voice dripping with venom and vinegar.
The Brute (smirking): “Well, wasn’t that just a cinematic masterpiece? Maid Marion submits faster than Johnny ‘The Mic’ can botch a broadcast. Wicked Witch gets handed a squash match and I’m supposed to act like it's some epic war? Come on. That wasn't wrestling—that was a gift-wrapped burial. Marion deserves better, but I forgot—NPCW doesn’t do ‘better.’ NPCW does theater.”
He pulls out a stained stat sheet and waves it.
The Brute: “And another thing. Don’t let those fireworks and costume makeovers fool ya—this company let its top star crumble in plain sight. You wanna talk about Sinister Klaus? You wanna act shocked that Santa Claus turned to the dark side? Maybe if anyone in charge had been paying attention, we’d still have a symbol of hope instead of some holiday horror movie villain. This is what happens when Johnny Michaels spends more time powdering his nose and suspending me than actually running the show.”
He leans in, face tightening with anger.
The Brute: “I told you people. I warned you last month, last year, every time you tuned in. You don’t sideline a man like Santa without consequence. Now the blood’s on your hands, Johnny. You broke him. And now he’s breaking everybody else.”
Suddenly, the screen glitches again—STATIC BUZZ.
BZZZZT—
A bright white TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES screen flashes, complete with NPCW’s emergency jingle tone—cheerful bells over dissonant strings. The words “THIS BROADCAST HAS BEEN INTERRUPTED” blink over the screen for three awkward seconds.
The feed snaps away, cutting clean to the next segment.
The Fairest of Them All
The scene fades in from black, like the turning of a storybook page. Ornate chandeliers cast a warm golden glow across a regal chamber filled with velvet drapes, rosewood furniture, and polished marble floors. A harpist quietly plays in the corner, the melody sweet but carrying undertones of power.
In the center of the room, seated with perfect posture upon a silver-trimmed throne, is Snow White—no longer just the sweet and naive girl of fairy tales. Clad in a white and crimson wrestling robe embroidered with apple blossoms and shimmering crystals, she is grace forged in fire. Her hair, like a raven's wing, cascades over one shoulder. Her piercing eyes reflect both compassion and conviction.
Beside her stands Prince Charming, wearing a royal-blue tailcoat with golden buttons, a sash over one shoulder, and a championship-worthy confidence. He holds her hand gently, the perfect image of a gentleman-warrior—but with a jawline that says he’ll throw a forearm faster than you can say “noble duel.”
Snow White: (Her voice soft, but firm—like velvet with a steel lining) “Mirror, Mirror… on the wall… who is the fairest of them all?”
She pauses, letting the question settle like a snowflake on stone. She glances at Prince Charming, who flashes his signature heart-melting grin and gives her hand a reassuring squeeze.
Snow White: (Her smile grows, radiant and resolute) “That’s right, NPCW Universe… we are on our way.”
Prince Charming: (Stepping forward with a sweeping bow toward the camera) “Good people of the North Pole and beyond—your royal couple has arrived! And we come not just to win... but to uplift. With honor. With handsomeness. And with a bit of poetic justice.”
Snow White: “But justice comes with a price. And Regina… oh Regina, my dear stepmother… it’s time the mirror stopped lying to you. You wanted a kingdom where beauty was power and cruelty was strength? You taught me betrayal, exile… and how to survive both.”
Prince Charming: (Standing tall now, voice full of gallant thunder) “And let’s not forget your lapdog, the Huntsman. You may have her heart in your hand, Regina—but we’ve got the people behind ours. We fight not just for crowns and fairy tales, but for those who’ve been cast aside. Silenced. Poisoned and forgotten.”
Snow White: (Leaning forward, calm but unshakable) “Regina. Huntsman. You’re first on our list. We’re not just here for vengeance. We’re here for the throne.”
Prince Charming: (With a final bow to the camera) “And when we win… it shall be written in the next chapter of legend. Royalty reigns. And evil… shall fall.”
The harpist’s melody swells into a triumphant chord as the scene fades to a glittering snowflake that twirls in the air before dissolving into black.
Johnny “The Mic” Michaels: Welcome back to Polar Power: Episode 019! Strap in, folks, because this tag team bout promises to be one of the most hard-hitting of the night. We’ve got the thunder from the tundra — Blitzen and Donner of the Reindeer Coalition — taking on the snarling street brawlers of the Wolf Pack, The Howlers!
Eddie Ellington: Blitzen and Donner? Please. Just two holiday has-beens clinging to the past. The Howlers? These boys are mean, lean, and don’t need sleigh bells to bring chaos.
Johnny: Whoa! The bell hasn’t even stopped echoing and it's an all-out brawl in the center of the ring! Fists flying, fur flailing, antlers clashing — you name it!
Eddie: Referee Honest Abe’s already lost control! I love it. This is what the Howlers do best — dive straight into the carnage and tear things up.
Johnny: Blitzen charges at Howler #1 with a stomp-stomp-clomp combo! That’s vintage Reindeer Coalition! Meanwhile, Donner's throwing hands like it’s a snowball fight in the North Pole!
Eddie: Snowball fight? Please. Donner looks like a mall Santa’s bodyguard after a bad day. And here come the Howlers — double team sidewalk slam and a diving headbutt! That’s how you flatten deer!
Johnny: Blitzen gets tossed to the outside! Howler #2 grinning like he just found Christmas dinner! But Donner refuses to let his partner take the heat alone. He spins back in with a running clothesline — both Howlers staggered!
Eddie: But look at this! A beautiful counter by Howler #1 — backdrop into a power slam! And then they hoist Donner up for a double underhook suplex. The pack is howling tonight!
Johnny: Wait just a second — Blitzen back in the ring like a reindeer possessed! Springboard dropkick sends one Howler into the ropes, and now Blitzen lands a Flying Headscissors! That turned the tide!
Eddie: Yeah, turned the tide into a puddle! The Howlers will shake that off and be back to mauling in no time.
Johnny: Donner’s caught his breath and now — a Double Reindeer Roundhouse! One for each Howler! That’s teamwork you only get from pulling Santa’s sleigh side-by-side for centuries!
Johnny: This match is breaking down again! All four men in the ring, trading blows, yelling, snarling — and that crowd is electric!
Eddie: Because they know they're watching the wolves eat dinner! Donner’s getting stomped in the corner while Blitzen’s hanging on like a ragdoll!
Johnny: Blitzen fires back with an enzuigiri! And now a quick tag — Donner’s legal! He ducks the double clothesline, hits the ropes — Double Shoulder Tackle! The Howlers are down!
Eddie: They won’t stay down! These aren’t some overgrown pets — they’re predators! Real, vicious, tag team predators!
Johnny: Blitzen slingshots over the top for a plancha on Howler #2 outside! Donner stays in the ring and hoists Howler #1 up… THUNDERCLAP POWERBOMB!! That’s it! Hook of the leg — ONE! TWO! THREE!
Johnny: It’s over! The Reindeer Coalition — Blitzen and Donner — pick up a hard-fought win against two of the toughest brawlers in NPCW!
Eddie: Robbery! I want a recount! I want security footage! This match was stolen like cookies off Santa’s plate! The Howlers were robbed!
Johnny: Oh, come off it, Eddie! That was grit, guts, and classic Reindeer resilience. The Coalition proves once again that they’re not just holiday mascots — they are elite tag team athletes!
Eddie: Yeah, yeah. Let’s see how long they last when the Howlers smell blood next time. Because wolves don’t forget, Johnny — they hunt in packs.
Johnny: You can be sure of one thing — the Reindeer Coalition is heading into the month with momentum, pride, and plenty of antler power. Stay tuned, fans, Polar Power 019 rolls on!
Johnny: Folks, welcome back to Polar Power, and up next we’ve got a wild one—Van Helsing of the Hunter’s Enclave going one-on-one with the always imposing Nutcracker Captain.
Eddie: Let’s just take a second to acknowledge the obvious, Johnny—where’s the Nutcracker General? We haven’t seen him in weeks. The Legion’s been running on half-rations.
Johnny: That’s true. The General’s been conspicuously absent from NPCW action.
Eddie: He's scouting, Johnny! Unlike some people in this company, he’s doing actual work! You don’t just maintain a disciplined army of toy soldier maniacs by hanging around catering all day!
Johnny: Well, regardless of where the General is, the Captain’s got his hands full tonight with a hunter who’s slayed werewolves, vampires, and maybe a nutcracker or two in his day.
[Bell Rings]
Johnny: And here we go! Van Helsing charges in early—looking for the Back to the Grave piledriver!
Eddie: Whoa, whoa! The Captain reverses it—he’s not letting himself get planted like that!
Johnny: And look at that—Death From Above! The flying double axehandle connects right to the shoulder of Helsing!
Eddie: That’s what I like about the Captain—precision and power. Unlike Helsing, who swings like he’s fighting ghosts.
Johnny: Van Helsing, shaken but not stirred, rallies with a big roundhouse right! The Captain felt that one.
Eddie: Please, Johnny, I’ve seen firmer punches in a snowball fight.
Johnny: Now it’s a reversal clinic—Van Helsing counters another axehandle and—wait! Stake to the Heart! That heart punch drops the Captain to his knees!
Eddie: Okay, I’ll give Helsing that one. But don’t get used to it!
Johnny: Things are heating up now—Van Helsing with a Holy Crossface! He’s wrenching the Captain’s neck back!
Eddie: Honest Abe better keep his eyes open. We know Helsing’s definition of “holy” is sketchy at best.
Johnny: Captain refuses to tap! That’s toughness. And he fires back—Running Powerslam! Van Helsing with a powerslam of his own in return!
Eddie: Power moves on both sides, but my money’s on the guy who doesn’t dress like he’s hunting Dracula in a library.
Johnny: Spike piledriver from the Captain! That could rearrange your jaw! But Helsing is back with another chokeslam—these two are throwing everything at each other!
Eddie: The Captain’s spear—Nutcracker Cannon!—nearly splits Helsing in half!
Johnny: He’s going for the pin! 1...2—NO! Helsing kicks out! The Captain almost had him!
Eddie: That was a slow count, Johnny. Abe must’ve been distracted by Helsing’s coat buttons.
Johnny: March to Victory by the Captain! But Helsing isn’t done—another powerslam!
Eddie: You’ve got to be kidding me—where’s this guy getting all this from? A vampire blood bank?
Johnny: DDT by the Captain! And now Death From Above—but Helsing counters with a running DDT of his own!
Eddie: That move’s gotta be banned. It’s ruining hairlines across the roster.
Johnny: Back to the Grave! He plants the Captain again—but wait! The Captain reverses the pin attempt and—he’s got him! 1...2—no! Helsing escapes!
Eddie: Don’t scare me like that, Johnny!
Johnny: Helsing with another Back to the Grave—the third time tonight! He’s going for the pin again! 1...2—NO! The Captain stays alive!
Eddie: How?! This is why toy soldiers shouldn’t have human-level endurance!
Johnny: Captain back with a big powerslam, and he throws Helsing out of the ring! Honest Abe’s counting—1...2...3...all the way to 9, and Helsing just barely slides back in!
Eddie: See? Cowardice knows how to sprint.
Johnny: German suplex by the Captain! But—Back to the Grave AGAIN! Van Helsing with a final emphatic statement!
Eddie: No! No! Not like this!
Johnny: 1...2...3—It’s over! Van Helsing pins the Nutcracker Captain in an absolutely brutal contest!
Eddie: This is outrageous! Someone check if that stake was silver-tipped! There’s foul play afoot, Johnny!
Johnny: Regardless, Van Helsing stands tall tonight. He took everything the Nutcracker Captain had to give, and somehow kept coming. What a war!
[The bell rings, the crowd roars, and the atmosphere is electric inside the North Pole Arena as the Misfits of Mayhem make their twisted entrance.]
Johnny “The Mic” Michaels: Here they come, folks—Negropolis and Madman Mason. The NPCW Tag Team Champions. And listen to that reaction! The fans are firmly behind the Misfits.
Eddie Ellington: These fans are fools, Johnny. Absolute fools. They cheer for a walking corpse and a lunatic in a straitjacket. Negropolis looks like he crawled out of a bad dream, and Madman Mason looks like the nightmare that followed.
[Negropolis grabs Mason by the head and looks him dead in the eyes.]
Johnny: Whoa! Look at that—Negropolis just yanked Mason in by the scruff! He’s telling him to focus!
Eddie: That’s rich! Telling a lunatic to focus is like asking a polar bear to play chess. But I’ll give ‘em this—they know the stakes tonight.
Johnny: They’re facing the most dominant cold-weather bruisers in the business—the Polar Bears! And remember, folks, the case of the missing Flippers still hangs heavy. Lady Molly says she’s getting close. Could this be connected?
[The match begins fast. Mason throws Polar Bear 1 with a stunning Overhead Belly to Belly Suplex. Negropolis slaps Bear 1 with his vicious "Bitch Slap." Bear responds with a bone-crunching Bear Hug.]
Eddie: That’s what I’m talkin’ about! Grab 'em and squeeze like they owe you fish, Polar Bear!
Johnny: Mason and Negropolis starting off strong with some double-team precision, but the Bears aren’t backing down an inch!
[In the second minute, Mason tags Negropolis after hitting a Vertical Suplex. Bear 1 answers with a massive punch that echoes through the arena.]
Eddie: That paw just slapped the taste outta Mason’s mouth! Somebody get that man an ice pack and a dentist!
Johnny: And there’s the tag—Negropolis flies in with a Flying Elbow that lands flush!
[The match ebbs and flows. Negropolis is surgical—hitting a beautiful Hurricanrana and nearly pinning Bear 1 after a Dragon Suplex. Polar Bear 2 makes a last-second save! The crowd is wild!]
Johnny: That was two and seven-eighths, Eddie! We were milliseconds away from a title retention!
Eddie: I haven’t seen someone land on their head like that since Brick Brody tripped on a candy cane backstage!
[Madman Mason and Negropolis work seamlessly, double-teaming with a Power Bomb and Flying Elbow. But the Bears dig deep—Bear 1 and Bear 2 come back with their own double-team offense: a Backbreaker and Snowstorm Spin! Mason tries to reverse but gets flattened by Furry Vengeance!]
Johnny: It’s chaos! Tag team pandemonium! The kind of match that makes you believe in NPCW magic!
Eddie: Magic? Mason needs a miracle! Look at that—Bear 1 just powerslammed him halfway to the Ice Fields!
[In the closing stretch, Mason is dazed... then music begins to play. A haunting, distorted melody. Mason clutches his head in pain.]
Johnny: What on earth?! What’s that music? Is that... connected to the Flippers mystery? Mason’s reeling!
Eddie: Oh no. No no no. This has happened before! That freaky tune—something’s got its claws in Mason’s mind!
[Suddenly, Mason’s confusion turns to fury. With wide eyes and clenched fists, he EXPLODES with an Overhead Belly to Belly Suplex on Polar Bear 1!]
Johnny: HE’S SNAPPED! OVERHEAD BELLY TO BELLY—HE HOOKS THE LEG!!!
Referee Abe: ONE!... TWO!... THREE!!!
Eddie: WHAT?!? Are you kidding me?!
Johnny: It’s over! Madman Mason just pinned Polar Bear 1! The Misfits of Mayhem retain the NPCW Tag Team Titles!
Eddie: Oh come on! They were losing steam until that creepy circus music played! This stinks worse than the Yeti’s gym socks!
Johnny: The Polar Bears are furious! Madman Mason’s pacing like a wild animal! And what does that music mean?! Is this connected to Flippers? Or something even darker?
Eddie: Lady Molly—if you’re watching—you better crack this case before this whole tag division goes off the rails!
Johnny: The Misfits of Mayhem steal one tonight! NPCW Universe—we’ll see you next week! But something’s not right. Something sinister is slithering beneath the snow...
[The bell has rung and “Misfit March” plays faintly in the background. Madman Mason is stomping around the ring like a beast uncaged, eyes wide, hair wild, fists clenched. Negropolis steps between him and the ref while Ace MacDougal hustles down the ramp, sliding into the ring with urgency.]
Johnny “The Mic” Michaels: Folks, Madman Mason is losing it! That music earlier—the same mind-twisting melody from past episodes—it set something off again!
Eddie Ellington: He’s not just mad, Johnny—he’s cracked. I’ve seen people flip out over losing a remote, but this guy just powerbombed a Polar Bear into next week and now he’s throwing a tantrum!
[Ace MacDougal is speaking calmly, hands raised. Negropolis grips Mason’s shoulders and stares directly into his eyes. The tag titles lie forgotten on the mat.]
Johnny: Ace and Negropolis trying to reel Mason back in. You can see it—whatever this is, it’s not just rage. It’s fear. Trauma. Maybe even guilt?
Eddie: Guilt? Please. Mason doesn’t even spell guilt.
[Suddenly, the arena lights dim and the eerie glow of the jumbotron crackles to life. Static floods the screen, and then—clear as day—the captured image of FLIPPERS THE PENGUIN flashes across. Flippers is in a small cage, his eyes wide with fear, his wings pressed against the cold bars.]
Johnny (gasping): That’s—OH MY NORTH STAR—that’s FLIPPERS! IT’S FLIPPERS!
Eddie: He’s alive?! I mean... LOOK AT HIM! He’s in a cage, Johnny! Someone took him! Who would do that to a penguin!?
[The crowd immediately erupts into chanting.]
Crowd: FREE FLIPPERS! FREE FLIPPERS! FREE FLIPPERS!
[Inside the ring, Mason stops cold. The fury melts off his face like snow in spring. His shoulders slump. His eyes fill. He drops to his knees, hands to his head... and then—he cries.]
Johnny: Madman Mason... crying in the middle of the ring... This isn’t just about tag team gold, Eddie. Something’s been haunting this man. And Flippers... it might be the key.
Eddie: He snapped out of it the moment he saw that bird. What kind of messed up bond do they have?! Johnny, this whole thing just got real twisted...
[Suddenly, the image of Flippers flickers and fades. The screen turns black—then a soft, discordant lullaby begins to play. It’s not the haunting melody from before... this one is softer... sadder... but somehow even more disturbing.]
Johnny (nervously): What is that sound...?
Eddie: I don’t like it, Johnny. I really don’t like it.
[The screen flickers again. Then... a heavily distorted voice pierces the silence—genderless, inhuman, like something dragged through a broken speaker.]
Distorted Voice (from jumbotron):
“Mason... Negropolis...
Next week...
On Polar Power...
All... will... be... revealed...”
[The screen snaps to black. The lullaby cuts off. The crowd is dead silent for a beat—then begins murmuring, unsure of what they just witnessed.]
Johnny: What the—what does that mean?! What’s going to be revealed?! Who has Flippers?! Who’s behind this!?
Eddie: I’m tellin’ ya, Johnny... this is no ordinary feud. This is some deep psychological penguin-abducting mind game stuff! And I want no part of it!
[In the ring, Ace hugs Mason who is still on his knees, sobbing. Negropolis stands tall, defiant—eyes on the screen, fists clenched. The tag champs may have won tonight... but they look more broken than victorious.]
Johnny: Next week on Polar Power... answers? Or more madness? We’ll find out—but one thing’s for sure, folks... something dark is coming.
THE GUIDING LIGHT!
[The corridors of the North Pole Arena are quieter now. The crowd has filtered out, the echoes of the final bell still ringing in the rafters. The camera cuts to the backstage loading dock door as it swings open—RUDOLPH, the proud and battle-worn North Pole Champion, strides in with purpose. The title gleams on his shoulder, the strap weathered but proud. His breath clouds in the cold air of the loading bay as he scans the halls.]
Rudolph (firmly): Klaus! I know you're still here! Come out and face me like a man!
[Suddenly, from the shadows of the corridor, emerge three figures—Ebenezer Scrooge, Bob Cratchit, and the short, looming presence of Fenwick Grimbough in his sleek black coat.]
Scrooge (smirking, cane tapping cold concrete): Oh-ho, Rudolph... fortune smiles on you tonight. Sinister Klaus has already departed. Unfinished business elsewhere, I suppose.
[Rudolph narrows his eyes, ready for anything. But what comes next catches even him off guard. Grimbough steps forward slowly—expression unreadable—and reaches for the North Pole Title draped across Rudolph’s shoulder.]
Grimbough (calmly, assertive): You won’t be needing that anymore. As of tonight, the NPCW North Pole Championship... is decommissioned.
[He grips the strap again, more firmly. Rudolph steps back, incredulous.]
Rudolph: What do you think you’re doing?
Grimbough (stern): Replacing it. Effective immediately, the NPCW Universal Championship is the official top prize of this promotion. It's time to step out of the snow and into the cosmos.
[As Grimbough goes to forcibly take the belt—suddenly—a voice cuts in from off-screen.
Bernard (off-screen, stepping into frame): Not so fast... gentlemen.
[All heads turn as Bernard the Elf, impeccably dressed in a tidy green coat and official lanyard, steps forward holding a crisp folder of documents. He’s calm, smiling—but there’s fire behind his eyes.]
Scrooge (sneering): What do you want, elf? This is official business. You're far out of your depth.
Bernard (unfazed, smug): Oh, I don’t think so, Mr. Scrooge. You see, that little “desk job” I practically begged for? It’s not just any position. I’m now the Special Liaison to the KWO Board for NPCW affairs.
[Cratchit's eyes widen. Scrooge’s smirk vanishes.]
Bernard (producing the printed email): So I called the Board Office... had them forward me the paperwork for this new Universal Championship. And yes, the title has been approved... however—the paperwork contains no clause for the decommissioning of the North Pole Title.
[Bernard smiles sweetly as he holds the email up for the camera and for Scrooge to see. Scrooge snatches it and scans quickly. His eyes flash with fury.]
Scrooge (spitting): Cratchit! What did you do, you bumbling oaf?! You couldn’t even fill out a simple form properly?!
Cratchit (stammering): Well... you did fire Tilda last week, and, uh, I’ve been handling all the paperwork alone... It was just a simple checkbox! I thought I checked it!
Bernard (cutting in): And since the North Pole Title is a designated legacy championship, it can’t simply be erased with a missed form. If you truly want it gone...
[He turns to the camera with that glimmering grin of righteousness.]
Bernard: You’ll have to hold a TITLE VS. TITLE UNIFICATION MATCH.
[The tension in the air becomes ice-cold. Grimbough’s jaw clenches. Scrooge trembles with rage.]
Scrooge (growling): Very well then... At the Supercard on August 31st... it shall be the NPCW UNIVERSAL CHAMPIONSHIP... vs... the North Pole Championship.
Let the shadow fall on your precious legacy, Rudolph. On that night... the North Pole melts.
[Scrooge spins on his heel, cane clicking like a gavel. Grimbough follows without a word. Cratchit lingers for a moment, casting a sly glance at Bernard—then gives him a subtle smile, almost... conspiratorial. Bernard nods ever so slightly in return.]
[Cratchit jogs after the others, leaving Bernard and Rudolph alone.]
[A long pause. Then Bernard turns to Rudolph. His voice is calm, but full of gravity.]
Bernard (softly): The legacy of the North Pole... is now firmly on your shoulders, Rudolph.
[Rudolph doesn’t say a word. He looks down at the North Pole Championship in his hands, then toward the hallway where Scrooge disappeared. His antlers tilt upward. His jaw sets. His eyes burn.]
[Cue the dramatic sting of NPCW’s closing theme. Fade to black.]
DAMN
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