Aired - September 6, 2025
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:
Mean Jack Mason standing triumphantly in the ring hoisting the NPCW North Pole Title over his head.
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 …
CROWD AND WELCOMING
[CAMERA: Wide sweeping shot of the North Pole Arena — fans waving signs, snowflake pyrotechnics still hanging in the rafters. Signs in the crowd: “FREE FLIPPERS!” … “NEGROPOLIS 4 LIFE” … “MASON MADE MEAN” … “SANTA IS BACK!” … “KRIS KRINGLE = LEGEND” … “RUDOLPH = REAL CHAMP” … “CLAUS IS SINISTER” … “BLONDE BOMBSHELLS RULE” … “VAN HELSING: SLAYER OF DARKNESS.” Scattered through the stands: red shirts with the white wolf logo on the front, “HE’S COMING” across the back. The hard camera lingers on them before pulling toward the announce desk.]
JOHNNY “THE MIC” MICHAELS: (voice swelling with excitement, like Tony Schiavone) “Welcome everybody to NPCW Polar Power, Episode Twenty-Four, coming to you live from the North Pole Arena! And folks—after last weekend—after Shadowfall and Wrestlefest: Labor Day, the very future of this company, of this sport, of this world may never be the same!”
EDDIE ELLINGTON: (smirking, dripping smugness) “Oh Johnny, you’re finally right about something. Two history-making nights, two nights that proved one thing—nothing is sacred in NPCW anymore. Friendships? Broken. Champions? Dethroned. Legends? Exposed. And Eddie Ellington, as always, called it all before it even happened.”
JOHNNY “THE MIC” MICHAELS: “And in the Queen of the North division—it was chaos! Moonshadow, the dark outlaw of NPCW, managed to dethrone Goldie Locks at Shadowfall. But the very next night at Wrestlefest—she lost the title to Lilith of the Demonic Legion!”
EDDIE ELLINGTON: laughing ““She pulled a regular Robin Hood, Johnny! Even when a thief steals the crown, it doesn’t stay on their head long! Moonshadow’s reign lasted about as long as a snowflake in a fireplace. Lilith was the better villain, plain and simple—and now the Demonic Legion holds the gold!”
JOHNNY: “Then—what a battle it was—Sandman managing to overcome Abaddon to win the Northern Lights Championship! The darkest nightmare met the master of dreams, and in the end, Sandman prevailed!”
EDDIE: “Bah! Abaddon got robbed. That match was officiated tighter than Santa’s belt after Christmas dinner. Sandman should thank every referee in this company that he’s walking around with gold right now.”
JOHNNY: “And then—how about Van Helsing? He came face to face with HCW’s darkest overlord, Count Vlad—words were exchanged, threats were made, and folks… mark my words… this battle between worlds is just beginning!”
EDDIE: “Yeah, Van Helsing’s got guts, I’ll give him that. But brains? Not so much. You don’t go poking the Count unless you’re ready to get bitten. And the Dark Dominion? They don’t lose arguments. They finish them.”
JOHNNY: “And the tag team scene? Exploded into chaos! The Beasts—those savage monsters from Dr. Moreau’s nightmares—captured the NPCW Tag Team Titles from the Misfits of Mayhem! And why? Because Madman Mason—he turned his back on Negropolis! At least Flippers is back with the Misfits, but what a shocker!”
EDDIE: grinning ear to ear “Oh it was glorious! Mason finally realized what Eddie Ellington has said for months—Negropolis is dead weight! Flippers may be back, but let’s be honest, he’s not scaring anybody but a sushi bar. The Beasts are dominant now, Johnny. Dominant!”
JOHNNY: “But then came the biggest shock of all—the return of Kris Kringle to NPCW! The grizzled guardian from wrestling’s yesteryear stood face-to-face with Sinister Klaus! And folks, Kringle was not alone—he brought with him none other than Augustus Coldiron—Santa Claus himself!”
EDDIE: “And what good did it do him, Johnny? Sinister Klaus is never alone. Fenwick Grimbough, that snake, has shown his true colors and aligned himself with Klaus! And now Hans Trapp, that devil of winter folklore, AND Belsnickel have joined forces with them. A brand-new faction has been forged, and the world trembles at the name—Grim Tidings! Ho ho ho, Johnny—what a Christmas present!”
JOHNNY: “But that begs the question—if Sinister Klaus can summon such evil, if he commands men like Fenwick, Hans Trapp, and Belsnickel… if Sinister Klaus is not Santa turned evil… then who is he really?”
EDDIE: “He’s the man running this place, Johnny! And the Universal Championship, his championship, is now officially the top prize in NPCW! Oh sure, Rudolph hung onto the North Pole Title by losing via count-out—but let’s be real—there’s no comparison anymore. Klaus is on top of the mountain!”
JOHNNY: “And speaking of titles—the biggest main event at Wrestlefest saw Mean Jack Mason—once Madman Mason—defeat a battered, bruised, and beaten Rudolph to become the new North Pole Champion! Mason has reinvented himself and sits at the top of the mountain!”
EDDIE: with gleeful mockery “Music to my ears! Rudolph’s fairy-tale reign is over. No more glowing noses saving the day. Mean Jack Mason is your champion now, Johnny—and he didn’t need a red light to guide him there, just cold, ruthless talent! And if you ask me, the North Pole Title’s finally around the waist of a real fighter.”
JOHNNY: shaking his head in disbelief “Folks, last weekend changed everything. The landscape of NPCW has shifted. New champions, new alliances, new enemies, and perhaps… a new era.”
EDDIE: “Oh, not ‘perhaps,’ Johnny. The future’s already here—and Eddie Ellington likes what he sees.”
JOHNNY: “Well fans, it’s all about to continue tonight—and right now we’re heading to the ring, where Smooth Samantha is standing by with a very special interview to kick off Polar Power!”
[CAMERA: Back to the ring. Smooth Samantha stands center stage, spotlights catching her elegant blue gown. The crowd buzzes. She flashes a radiant smile, microphone in hand.]
SMOOTH SAMANTHA: “Ladies and gentlemen of the North Pole Arena… welcome to Polar Power! Tonight we begin with a very special interview. So without further ado… allow me to introduce to you the new NPCW North Pole Champion… Mean Jack Mason!”
[CAMERA: Cuts to the entrance ramp. The arena erupts—a cascade of boos, scattered jeers, with a few defiant cheers from fans who like his new attitude. Mason emerges, almost unrecognizable. His once-wild hair is now slicked back jet black, his eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses. A smug grin stretches across his face. Around his waist gleams the NPCW North Pole Championship. Draped over his shoulders, a long black leather coat. His aura screams arrogance, not chaos.]
[On either arm, two women in short, glimmering dresses cling to him, stroking his ego as much as his arms. They play to the camera as he struts forward.]
JOHNNY “THE MIC” MICHAELS: “This… this isn’t the Madman Mason we knew, Eddie. This isn’t the fan-favorite brawler who fought side by side with Negropolis. This is a man transformed… and I don’t like what I see.”
EDDIE ELLINGTON: “Oh I love it, Johnny! Finally Mason’s found some class! Look at that suit, that coat, that title—look at those ladies! This is what a champion looks like, not some reindeer with a glowstick for a nose!”
[Behind Mason, a sight equally captivating and disturbing—his sister Polly Mason skips onto the stage. Her hair wild, her eyes manic, humming and twirling in her own world as if none of this chaos matters. She dances around them, pointing at the crowd, mocking their boos.]
[The camera then pulls back wider. Behind Polly, lumbering forth like unleashed monsters, comes Marcus the Beast Master—a mountain of a man gripping thick iron chains. At the ends of those chains are The Beasts, their faces feral, collars digging into their necks as they strain and snarl at the crowd. Both wear the NPCW Tag Team Titles proudly on their waists. Marcus jerks the chains as they lunge, drawing heat from the audience.]
JOHNNY: “Oh my… this is despicable. Look at this display! Mason’s turned his back on the fans, on Negropolis, and now he’s parading around with Marcus, Polly, and those… those Beasts!”
EDDIE: “Those Beasts are champions, Johnny. Don’t forget that! Mason led them to the gold, and now he’s got the North Pole Title around his waist. This is power. This is dominance. This is the future of NPCW!”
[The entire group saunters to the ring in slow, deliberate fashion. Mason plays to the boos, cupping his ear, blowing kisses at the angriest hecklers. Polly skips in circles, mocking fans in the front row with faces and giggles. Marcus yanks the Beasts up the steel steps, chains rattling with each step. The two women lift the ropes for Mason, who steps in like royalty.]
[Inside the ring, Samantha waits—but the atmosphere is tense. Mason takes his time unbuckling the North Pole Title and holding it up high, basking in the hatred. The women cling to him while Polly flits around, and the Beasts crouch at the ropes, snarling. Samantha lifts the mic—only for Mason to snatch it from her hand.]
[Close-up: Mason, sunglasses still on, smirk widening as he raises the mic.]
MEAN JACK MASON: “Hello… my people…”
[The boos rain down heavier. Mason chuckles, tilts his head, and soaks it in like fuel. Polly claps wildly at the noise, twirling beside him. The camera lingers on Mason’s smug expression as he’s clearly about to launch into his first words as champion.]
[The crowd is deafening, boos pouring through the North Pole Arena. Mason takes a slow spin in the middle of the ring, arms stretched wide, letting the venom soak into him like it’s oxygen. The two women cling to him, stroking his arms, while Polly twirls like a manic ballerina. Marcus and the Beasts stand menacing behind, chains rattling.]
MEAN JACK MASON: smirking “Before we begin… I just have to say… Samantha—darling—that was a horrible introduction. Simply dreadful. The people of the North Pole deserve better. I deserve better.”
[He sneers, sliding his sunglasses down just enough to glare coldly at the camera.]
“So… let me show you how it’s done.”
[Mason steps forward, pacing slowly, finger raised like a maestro conducting a twisted symphony.]
“First… the mistress of mayhem… the muse of mockery… the woman who dances through chaos and laughs at all of you worthless fools… and the future Queen of the North Champion…”
[He gestures with flourish. Polly Mason twirls to center ring, bows dramatically, then blows mocking kisses to the crowd’s furious jeers.]
“My little sister… POLLY MASON!”
[The boos rain down. Polly cackles and cartwheels back into place, taunting the fans.]
MEAN JACK MASON: “And now… the hulking mass of pure dominance… the man who bends monsters to his will… the behemoth of bedlam himself…”
[He points to Marcus, who lifts the chains and yanks them violently, sending The Beasts thrashing against their collars as they snarl at ringside fans.]
“MARCUS… THE BEAST MASTER!”
[Heat grows. Marcus smirks coldly as the audience recoils in disgust and fear.]
MEAN JACK MASON: “And your NPCW Tag Team Champions… the brothers of primal hatred… the walking nightmares… the next evolution…”
[He steps aside, spotlight falling on the brutes as they roar, pounding their chests and snapping at the crowd.]
“THE BEASTS!”
[The crowd explodes in boos. A loud “RU-DOLPH! RU-DOLPH!” chant tries to drown them out. Mason lowers his head, smirking, then slowly unbuckles the North Pole Title from his waist, holding it high in the air.]
MEAN JACK MASON: “And last… but never least… YOUR NPCW NORTH POLE CHAMPION! The new Beacon of Mayhem! The Master of Meanness! The one true Alpha Male of this company…”
[He drops the sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, glaring into the hard camera with venom.]
“MEAN… JACK… MASON!”
[The arena erupts in hatred—boos raining from the rafters, fans screaming, kids covering their ears. Mason lowers the title onto his shoulder, women fawning at his sides, kissing his arms. Polly claps and twirls, chanting “MEAN! MEAN! MEAN!” in a sing-song voice. Marcus and the Beasts stand behind, chains rattling like thunder.]
MEAN JACK MASON: smug, dripping arrogance “And together… we are the PRIMAL HORDE! The next rulers of NPCW!”
[Mason thrusts the title high once more as Marcus yanks the chains, making the Beasts roar in unison. Polly drops to her knees laughing hysterically, pounding the mat. The crowd noise hits a fever pitch—boos, chants for Rudolph, trash tossed at ringside. The Primal Horde stands tall, reveling in the chaos they’ve created.]
JOHNNY “THE MIC” MICHAELS: “This is sickening! Mason’s sold his soul! The Primal Horde?! They’re nothing but a gang of thugs with gold around their waists!”
EDDIE ELLINGTON: clapping gleefully “Oh Johnny, don’t be jealous! What you’re looking at is the future of NPCW. Champions. Monsters. Brilliance! Mason isn’t just a man anymore—he’s the leader of a horde! And NPCW belongs to them now!”
[The boos are still pouring in. Mason paces slowly in the ring, one hand on the North Pole Title slung across his shoulder, the other hand lifting the mic. His smirk never leaves his face. Every little twitch—adjusting his sunglasses, tilting his head, raising an eyebrow—just eggs the crowd on more. The two women drape themselves on him, stroking his chest and shoulders as though he’s royalty. Polly skips circles around him, chanting his name like a nursery rhyme. Marcus and the Beasts stand like an iron wall at his back.]
MEAN JACK MASON: “Last weekend… at Shadowfall and Wrestlefest: Labour Day… the Primal Horde accomplished what the so-called Alphas couldn’t… what even the Sinister One himself couldn’t.”
[He holds the title up high, tapping it with a finger as the crowd boos.]
“We snuffed the guiding light of NPCW out. We broke the hope of the North.”
[He motions toward himself, sneering.]
“And while you sheep were looking up and down for the coming shadows—you never bothered to look beside you. That was your mistake. And with that mistake… you fell.”
[The crowd explodes in “RU-DOLPH! RU-DOLPH!” chants. Mason pretends to wipe a tear from under his sunglasses, mocking them with fake sobbing noises.]
MEAN JACK MASON: “Oh, you ask me… ‘WHY, JACK, WHY?!’”
[He bursts out laughing, then suddenly shifts to mock crying, wiping his cheeks as the women at his side giggle.]
“Well now…”
[He drops the act, grinning wickedly.]
“You thought the Madman was crazy? Ha! You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”
[The boos intensify. Polly claps wildly, spinning like a deranged ballerina.]
“All this time—you thought Jack Mason was the good guy. The lovable nut with a penguin and a partner. You cheered when I danced like a clown. You smiled while I broke myself in half just to entertain you.”
[He glares out at the crowd, his smirk twisting darker.]
“But that wasn’t me.”
[He pauses. The arena grows quieter, tension thick in the air.]
“That… was the mask.”
[Heat rains down. Mason tilts his head back, relishing it. The women kiss his shoulders as though crowning him.]
“The real me? The real me is what you saw at Shadowfall. The real me doesn’t need a penguin. He doesn’t need a tag partner. He doesn’t need your cheers, your smiles, your pathetic love.”
[He adjusts the belt on his shoulder, his tone growing more venomous.]
“The real me needs pain. The real me needs control. The real me needs to take… everything… that was denied to him.”
[Polly suddenly shrieks and points at her brother.]
POLLY MASON: “He’s awake now! He’s awake!”
MEAN JACK MASON: “Damn right. Polly sang me back to life. And Dr. Casey? That old hack thought she could bury me under fairy tales and hypnosis. But nightmares don’t die. No, nightmares wait. And now…”
[He pulls his sunglasses off, staring directly into the hard camera with cold, piercing eyes.]
“…I’m awake.”
[The boos are deafening now. Mason takes it all in like oxygen, smirking as Polly claps her hands gleefully.]
“So here’s your warning: Mean Jack is here. And he’s not going away. Flippers? Gone. The Madman? Gone. Your false idol? Shattered.”
[He points straight at the lens.]
“You either stand behind me… or you get beat down beneath me. Because the only thing more dangerous than a madman…”
[He steps closer, sneering, eyes locked into the camera lens. The women cling tighter to him, kissing his chest as if he’s a god.]
“…is a man who remembers how much he loves being… mean.”
[The crowd ERUPTS in boos, chants of “RU-DOLPH! NEGROPOLIS! RU-DOLPH!” filling the arena. Mason stands tall, smug grin spread wide, as Polly chants “MEAN! MEAN! MEAN!” at the top of her lungs. Marcus tugs the chains and the Beasts snarl, slamming their chests and roaring at the audience.]
[Suddenly — the arena goes dark. The opening riff of the Misfits of Mayhem’s theme music blasts through the speakers. The crowd ERUPTS into cheers, the boos instantly drowned out. Red and green strobe lights flash across the stage.]
[At the top of the ramp, through the curtain, emerges Negropolis, his silhouette casting an imposing shadow across the arena. The fans are on their feet, screaming as the chaos inside the ring freezes. Mason doesn’t look shocked—he looks pleased.]
[Close-up of Mason: he smirks, lowering the mic, and whispers to himself just loud enough to be caught on the camera mic.]
MEAN JACK MASON: “…right on cue.”
[The camera cuts between the roaring Negropolis at the top of the ramp and the smiling Mason in the ring, surrounded by the Primal Horde. The standoff is electric as the segment fades.]
“NEGGIE! NEGGIE! NEGGIE!” chants thunder like rolling drums as the camera whips toward the entrance curtain.
Through the smoke steps NEGROPOLIS — the dark avenger of NPCW, his silhouette cutting a brooding figure under the lights. His black cloak trails behind him, and in one gloved hand he holds a microphone. He stops at the top of the ramp, letting the chants fuel him, and finally lifts the mic to his mouth. His voice is low, gravelly, heavy like rolling thunder.
NEGROPOLIS: “HAVE YOU GONE MAD FOR REAL, MASON?”
The crowd explodes again. Mason only smirks in the ring, rolling his shoulders like he’s savoring the moment.
But then — the curtain parts again.
Out steps ACE MACDOUGAL — the Scottish manager of the Misfits, a former pilot turned unlikely mastermind. Dressed in a wrinkled bomber jacket and scarf, he waddles with exaggerated steps, cracking a grin. His presence alone earns cheers, and the cameras catch him wagging a finger toward Mason as he makes his way to Negropolis’s side.
The fans laugh and cheer. Mason tilts his head, unimpressed, muttering something to the women at his side.
Then — another pop, this one shockingly loud.
EDIE steps out from the curtain. The meek, soft-spoken former girlfriend of Jack Mason, clutching Flippers the Penguin tenderly in her arms. The camera zooms in on her nervous expression, the audience rallying behind her instantly. She steps shyly up beside Negropolis, keeping her eyes locked on Mason.
The shot widens. On one side: Negropolis, dark and imposing, with Ace beside him. On the other side: Edie, fragile but resolute, holding Flippers. The three of them form a wall of resolve against Mason and the Primal Horde.
Back in the ring, Mason smirks again at first, shaking his head… but when his eyes land on Edie, that smug façade falters.
For the briefest of moments — just a flicker — Mason’s expression changes. A glimmer of something else. Concern. Guilt. A shadow of the man he used to be.
But then it’s gone. Just as quickly as it appeared, the grin slithers back across his face, and he lifts the mic again.
MEAN JACK MASON (mocking tone): “Tony, Tony, Tony…”
[Negropolis’s head snaps sideways, shoulders tightening at the sound of his real name.]
MASON (smirking wider): “…Or as others call you… UGLY SKULL FACE!”
[The crowd erupts in boos. People throw thumbs down, some even hurl popcorn toward the ring.
Polly laughs hysterically at the insult, skipping in a circle while chanting “UG-LY! UG-LY!” Marcus yanks on the chains of the Beasts, who roar toward the barricade. The two women stroke Mason’s arms, fawning as if his cruelty only makes him more irresistible.
Mason raises his free hand, basking in the wave of heat from the audience.]
MASON (cold, smug, dripping arrogance): “I’ve not seen things so clearly in years…”
[The camera cuts between Mason’s icy stare and Negropolis’s grim, locked jaw. Edie clutches Flippers tighter, her lips trembling. Ace MacDougal points at Mason from the ramp, barking in his thick Scottish brogue, almost inaudible over the crowd’s roar.]
The standoff is set. The crowd knows it.
The war lines have been drawn.
[The crowd is still booing loudly after Mason’s insult to Negropolis when the “Mean One” adjusts the NPCW North Pole Title on his shoulder, raises the microphone again, and sneers into the hard cam.]
MASON (mocking, with venom): “I carried the Misfits on my back! I carried your sorry ass, Neggie! The only reason we were ever successful was because of me! Certainly not that drunk Scotsman of a so-called manager…”
The camera cuts instantly to Ace MacDougal, who throws his arms up in mock offense. He leans toward Negropolis’s mic, his brogue booming over the crowd noise:
ACE MACDOUGAL (fuming): “Ohhh listen tae this walloper! Ye couldn’t carry me bar tab, never mind this team! Yer ego’s bigger than yer nose, Mason, an’ it’s just as crooked!”
The crowd roars with laughter and cheers at Ace’s fiery comeback. Mason only smirks wider, brushing it off like he’s above even acknowledging the Scot’s words.
MASON (cold, smug): “The Primal Horde are the next evolution… and the Misfits? You’re old news.”
The boos cascade again, louder than before. Negropolis starts to move forward, but then, timidly, Edie steps up. She looks down at Flippers trembling in her arms before clutching the microphone tightly.
Her voice cracks but carries through the arena.
EDIE (pleading): “Jack… please. This isn’t you…”
For the first time tonight, Mason’s confidence wavers. His jaw tightens, his eyes flicker. He opens his mouth, but for a heartbeat… nothing comes out. Almost as though something inside is fighting him.
Then — with a sharp inhale — his grin returns.
MASON (snapping back, cruel): “Oh, poor plain Jane Edie. You still don’t get it, do you? This is me. The Jack you knew was a façade. This is the real me.”
He leans against the ropes, staring down at her with venom.
MASON (smirking, twisting the knife): “I would ask you to join the real me… but I like my women a little more… spicy.”
Without warning, he grabs one of the women at ringside, dips her, and kisses her passionately.
The crowd lets out a collective GASP followed by thunderous BOOS.
The camera zooms in on Edie, whose eyes fill with tears. She buries her face against Flippers. Ace’s jaw drops in disbelief, muttering Scottish curses under his breath. Flippers lets out a loud, distressed squeal, flapping his little flippers wildly at Mason.
Negropolis’s head jerks violently, his whole frame shaking with rage. He finally growls into his mic, voice a guttural roar:
NEGROPOLIS (snarling): “You son of a—BLEEP! I’m going to pound you into the ground!”
The arena explodes with cheers. Negropolis surges forward, but Edie clings to his arm and Ace grabs his shoulder, holding him back. Even Flippers adorably wriggles free, trying to waddle down the ramp in a fury.
Inside the ring, Mason laughs maniacally, pointing as Marcus Ironblood yanks on the chains of the Beasts, positioning them protectively in front of their leader. The Primal Horde stand tall, Mason still clutching the belt, smugness radiating from his every move.
MASON (mocking, shouting over the noise): “Well, Neggie, if it’s a fight you want… how about tonight’s main event? ME and the Beasts against YOU… and whatever idiots are stupid enough to join you!”
The crowd goes absolutely wild. Negropolis yanks the mic free from Ace’s hand, his voice thundering over the cheers:
NEGROPOLIS: “YOU’RE ON! Even if I can’t find partners… I’ll face you ALONE!”
The pop is nuclear. The fans are on their feet chanting “NEGGIE! NEGGIE! NEGGIE!”
Negropolis glares at Mason, Ace throws his scarf into the crowd in defiance, and Edie clutches Flippers close as the three of them storm backstage. The camera lingers on Mason, who smirks with supreme confidence before slowly lowering the mic.
Mason drops the microphone with a CLANG.
The Horde stand tall in the ring, Mason stroking the title on his shoulder, the women draped on him, Polly singing “MEAN! MEAN! MEAN!” while Marcus and the Beasts roar menacingly.
The scene fades on Mason’s wicked grin.
[Cut to Commentary Desk]
JOHNNY “THE MIC” MICHAELS (excited): “OH MY GOODNESS! Negropolis just laid down the challenge of his life — Mason and the Beasts against himself and whoever he can find tonight in our MAIN EVENT!”
EDDIE ELLINGTON (snide, grinning): “And Johnny, let’s be honest — Negropolis has a better chance of finding Santa’s naughty list than finding two partners dumb enough to get in there with the Primal Horde! Mason’s playing chess while the Misfits are still struggling with checkers!”
JOHNNY (firm, fiery): “Don’t count out the courage of Negropolis, Eddie! Tonight, he’s fighting for more than himself — he’s fighting for Edie, for Ace, for Flippers, and for the honor of NPCW!”
EDDIE (smirking): “Honor doesn’t win matches, Johnny… power does. And the Primal Horde have it in spades.”
JOHNNY (pointing to camera): “Ladies and gentlemen, don’t you go anywhere — our explosive MAIN EVENT has just been signed: The Primal Horde versus Negropolis and mystery partners — TONIGHT! We’ll be right back!”
[Fade to commercial.]
COMMISSIONER’S DECREE
(A Message From Commissioner Robert Cratchit)
[Cut back from commercial. The camera zooms in on Johnny “The Mic” Michaels and Eddie Ellington at the announce desk.]
Johnny: "Welcome back, folks! Polar Power Episode 24 is rolling on, and what a night we’ve got lined up — Moonshadow battling Dorothy, Frankenstein’s Monster against Peter Cottontail, Hansel taking on the giant Goliath, Bella Aurelia making her debut against Regina, and Alice facing off with the Wicked Witch!"
Eddie: "Don’t forget — Blitzen and Donner of the Reindeer Coalition colliding with Cupid and Dancer of the Slay Team, Belsnickel tangling with Frosty, and of course our massive main event: Mean Jack Mason and the Beasts against Negropolis and whoever’s crazy enough to join him! But before all that — trouble is brewing upstairs in the Commissioner’s Box."
[Camera cuts to the Commissioner’s Box. The scene is already in chaos. Ebeneezer Scrooge, red-faced and huffing, is nose-to-nose with Bernard, the KWO board’s liaison elf. Commissioner Bob Cratchit stands between them nervously, wringing his hands. In the background: Fenwick Grimbough paces, flustered and muttering, while Ms. Sweetins lounges in a chair, sipping tea, clearly entertained.]
Scrooge (snapping, pointing a bony finger at Bernard): "I don’t care what you say, you pitiful little elf! He is not giving up his directorship!"
Bernard (matching his fury, waving papers in his face): "The KWO Board has ruled! Fenwick Grimbough cannot serve as Director of Rules and Regulations while managing Grim Tidings. Conflict of interest! It’s as clear as ice, Scrooge."
[He shoves the paperwork into Scrooge’s chest. Scrooge yanks it out of his hands, squints through his spectacles, and frowns.]
Fenwick (stammering, desperate): "This isn’t right — I—I rewrote that rule! I filed the amendment myself!"
Bernard (mocking laugh): "Oh, really? Well, many of your so-called ‘rule rewrites’ have been rejected by the board — including that one. Your power games are finished, Grimbough."
Scrooge (furious, crumpling the paper in his hand): "We’ll fight this, Bernard. Mark my words!"
[Everyone braces for another shouting match, but suddenly Cratchit — usually meek, mild, and deferential — SLAMS his hand on the desk.]
Cratchit (firm, voice raised): "ENOUGH!"
[The entire room freezes. Even Scrooge and Bernard stop mid-breath. Ms. Sweetins nearly spits out her tea. Fenwick stops pacing. The shock on their faces shows — nobody has ever heard Bob Cratchit raise his voice like this.]
Cratchit (steady, resolute): "Fenwick, I’m sorry. But the board’s ruling is clear. As Commissioner, I cannot allow this to drag NPCW into further chaos. You are hereby suspended as Director of Rules and Regulations, effective immediately."
[Fenwick clutches his head, trembling, trying to protest, but Cratchit silences him with a raised hand.]
Cratchit (softer, but unwavering): "If your appeal succeeds, you’ll have your position back. Until then, the suspension stands."
[Fenwick slumps back in his chair, defeated. Scrooge seethes, but even he is stunned by Cratchit’s resolve.]
Scrooge (snapping): "Then who, pray tell, is your ‘acting director’?! Who could possibly step into his shoes?"
Bernard (smirking, smug as ever): "Well, by our chain of authority, it falls to the next in line… Buddy the Referee Elf!"
[The doors swing open, and Buddy the Elf — in full referee stripes, carrying his whistle, grinning ear to ear — bounces in.]
Buddy (cheerful): "That’s me! Don’t worry, everybody, rules are safe in Buddy’s hands!"
[The crowd watching on screen laughs and cheers. Scrooge groans audibly, holding his head like he’s in pain. Ms. Sweetins cackles into her teacup.]
Scrooge (grumbling): "Not that fool…!"
Cratchit (after a pause, sighs): "Yes… until further notice, Buddy the Referee Elf will serve as Acting Director of Rules and Regulations."
[Buddy does a fist pump and blows his whistle, nearly deafening everyone in the box. Fenwick buries his face in his hands. Scrooge looks ready to faint.]
Bernard (pressing forward, enjoying the moment): "And that leaves one last vacancy… Fenwick’s role as General Manager of Chill Factor."
[Scrooge sputters, turning red, while Fenwick hangs his head, looking utterly crushed.]
Cratchit (hesitant, clearly at a loss): "I… I don’t know who…"
Bernard (cutting him off, smiling slyly): "Well, you do have a color commentator who’s an ex-champion and a former manager. Someone respected, someone who knows both sides of the ropes. How about… Alton Bell?"
[The crowd reacts with surprise — some cheers, some boos, but mostly loud buzz. Cratchit looks thoughtful. Scrooge raises an eyebrow. Even Ms. Sweetins sits forward, intrigued.]
Cratchit (after a pause, nodding slowly): "Yes… Alton Bell. He’ll take over as GM of Chill Factor."
[Scrooge shakes his head in disgust, grabbing Fenwick by the arm.]
Scrooge (spitting the words): "This isn’t over. Not by a long shot."
[He storms out, dragging a humiliated Fenwick behind him. The camera lingers on Bernard, smugly adjusting his tie, and on Ms. Sweetins, smiling knowingly into her cup. Buddy waves to the camera, cluelessly.]
Johnny (voiceover as cameras cut back to the announce desk): "Whoa! Did you hear that? Cratchit laying down the law! Fenwick Grimbough suspended, Buddy the Elf promoted, and Alton Bell named GM of Chill Factor!"
Eddie (shaking his head, half-smirking): "This company’s gone nuts, Johnny. Buddy the Elf running rules? Alton Bell running Chill Factor? Scrooge and Fenwick licking their wounds? NPCW is never gonna be the same again!"
Johnny: "The fallout from that decree is gonna shake NPCW to its core — but folks, we’ve got matches to get to! Let’s send it down to the ring!"
[Fade to the next match graphic.]
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: Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Polar Power, and what a way to kick things off! It’s Dorothy, representing the Blonde Bombshells, taking on the ever-dangerous Moonshadow of the Wolf Pack!
Eddie: Ever-dangerous? She’s the best thing that pack has! Look at her—focused, ruthless, and unlike Dorothy, she doesn’t need a little dog and a dream to get by in NPCW.
Johnny: (chuckling) Well, Dorothy may not have Toto with her tonight, but she’s got a lot of heart, Eddie, and she’s ready to test herself against one of the most devious competitors in the women’s division.
Johnny: And there’s the bell—OH! Moonshadow wastes no time, LUNAR LARIAT! She nearly took Dorothy’s head off!
Eddie: That’s how you start a match! You don’t wait, you don’t pose—you flatten your opponent! Brilliant!
Johnny: Moonshadow going up high—Flying Kneedrop! But Dorothy rolls her up—School-girl pin attempt!
Eddie: Too close! Don’t let yourself get embarrassed that early!
Johnny: Dorothy showing she can surprise you at any time!
Johnny: Dorothy firing back—ONE-ARMED NECKBREAKER SLAM! Moonshadow’s down!
Eddie: What is this? She got lucky, Johnny! That’s not skill, that’s stumbling into an opening.
Johnny: Moonshadow right back—Front Facelock cinched in tight! Dorothy’s struggling!
Eddie: Squeeze the life out of her, Moonshadow! This is how you make a Bombshell pop!
Johnny: Dorothy fighting back—backhand chop!
Eddie: Congratulations, Johnny, she just slapped a wolf. Real smart strategy.
Johnny: Dorothy now—Kansas Cyclone! Big Tornado DDT connects! Moonshadow’s rocked!
Eddie: She’s lucky the ring isn’t spinning her out into the front row. That move came out of nowhere.
Johnny: Both women trading offense—Moonshadow rakes Dorothy’s eyes on the ropes!
Eddie: That’s why I like her! Smart wrestling! You don’t win matches by being nice, Johnny.
Johnny: Dorothy firing back with chops despite being blinded!
Johnny: Moonshadow again—another rake across the ropes, then follows up with a LUNAR LARIAT!
Eddie: And just like that, Dorothy’s looking like she should’ve stayed home in Kansas.
Johnny: Dorothy connects with the Emerald City Elbow! But Moonshadow comes crashing down with a Flying Kneedrop! Both women giving it everything!
Eddie: And one of them is giving more than she has! Dorothy can’t keep this up.
Johnny: Dorothy—Spinebuster! Bulldog! She’s on a roll!
Eddie: This is outrageous! Where’s the ref? Check those moves!
Johnny: (laughs) Eddie, those are perfectly legal! Dorothy’s fighting fire with fire!
Johnny: Moonshadow—LUNAR LARIAT again! And now a Neckbreaker!
Eddie: There it is! That’s how you do it. Pack leader! Show this farm girl where she belongs.
Johnny: Dorothy slams her right back down! What a slugfest this has turned into!
Johnny: Moonshadow with the Lycan Lock—Dragon Sleeper applied!
Eddie: That’s it, she’s finished! Dorothy’s gonna be howling—
Johnny: NO! Dorothy counters—Kansas Cyclone AGAIN!
Johnny: Dorothy taking control! Splashes Moonshadow hard after breaking free!
Eddie: That’s illegal airspace! Somebody ground this woman!
Johnny: Moonshadow regains momentum—Flying Kneedrop, Neckbreaker! Dorothy is down!
Eddie: Cover her! That’s the kill shot!
Johnny: Moonshadow has the front facelock—but wait! Big Bad Wolf up on the apron, distracting Honest Abe!
Eddie: He’s helping! That’s what you do as a teammate!
Johnny: NO—Moonshadow herself gets distracted! Dorothy slips free—KANSAS CYCLONE! She plants her! The cover—1! 2! 3! She’s done it! Dorothy wins!!
Eddie: Are you kidding me?! That was Moonshadow’s match! She had it won! Big Bad Wolf ruined it!
Johnny: Dorothy with a HUGE victory here on Polar Power, pinning Moonshadow clean in the center of the ring!
Eddie: No, no, no, don’t you dare say clean! That was sabotage by her own Pack!
Johnny: Well, clean or not, Dorothy walks away the winner, and Moonshadow looks furious—she won’t even leave with the Wolf Pack! What does that mean for their future?
Eddie: It means they’d better start listening to her instead of tripping over themselves.
Johnny: Fans, we’ve only just begun here on Polar Power—don’t go anywhere, more action is still to come!
MOONSHADOW’S HUNT
The camera cuts backstage where Smooth Samantha, mic in hand, stands ready in front of the NPCW logo backdrop. Moonshadow storms into frame, still sweaty and furious from her loss. Her wild hair is in her face, chest heaving with rage. Samantha nervously raises the mic.
Smooth Samantha: “Moonshadow… a tough loss tonight against Dorothy, and it looked like you had the match won until a little distraction at ringside. Your thoughts?”
Moonshadow (snatching the mic, snarling): “My thoughts? My thoughts are that Dorothy got lucky! Lucky! That Tornado DDT was desperation, nothing more! I had her beat… I should have had her beat… but somebody couldn’t keep his big furry nose out of my business.”
(Crowd watching on screen in the arena gives a loud “ooooh.” Before Samantha can follow up, Big Bad Wolf strolls into frame, oozing cool arrogance, toothpick in the corner of his mouth like Razor Ramon. He adjusts his leather vest and smirks at Moonshadow.)
Big Bad Wolf: “Chica, you better watch that temper. I wasn’t tryin’ to cost you nada. I was out there makin’ sure Honest Abe didn’t screw you like he’s done before. You don’t like it? That’s too bad, ’cause I got your back. That’s what the Wolf Pack does.”
Moonshadow (getting right in his face, voice seething): “I don’t need you or anyone else having my back. I’m not some cub that needs protecting—I’m a hunter! And I’m gonna hunt down the Queen of the North Title, whether you like it or not. Demoness Lilith thinks she’s untouchable? I’ll drag her into the shadows and tear her apart.”
(The crowd in the arena pops huge at Moonshadow’s defiance. Big Bad Wolf chuckles, almost amused, then steps closer, looking Moonshadow up and down like he’s trying to keep her grounded.)
Big Bad Wolf: “Lilith ain’t Dorothy, chica. She’ll chew you up, spit you out, and dance in your ashes. You go after her now, you ain’t getting that crown—you’re getting buried. You’re better than that. You wait, you plan, you strike when the moon is full. You don’t run headfirst into the fire.”
Moonshadow (eyes burning, gripping the mic tight): “You think I’m afraid of fire? I am the fire! You don’t get to tell me when I fight. You don’t get to tell me who I fight. You stay out of my way, Wolf, or I’ll put you down myself.”
(Crowd in arena gasps loudly. Samantha looks terrified as the tension boils. Big Bad Wolf smirks, tosses his toothpick at the floor, and tilts his head coolly.)
Big Bad Wolf: “Careful, chica. You bite the Wolf… you better make sure you finish the job. ’Cause I don’t forget. And I don’t forgive.”
(The two stare each other down, the atmosphere thick with menace. Finally, Moonshadow throws the mic at Samantha’s chest and storms off, leaving Wolf smirking after her, half proud, half annoyed. Samantha, shaken, tries to collect herself as the camera cuts back to ringside.)
Johnny: “Fans, welcome back to NPCW action here tonight—Match 2 is underway! It’s the Alpha Monster of Monsters Bash himself, Frankenstein’s Monster, accompanied by the diabolical Dr. Frankenstein, going one-on-one with the fleet-footed folk hero, Peter Cottontail!”
Eddie: “Johnny, let’s call it like it is. Cottontail may be quick, but he’s nothin’ more than a rabbit hoppin’ into traffic. And Frankenstein’s Monster? That’s an eighteen-wheeler, baby!”
Johnny: “Collar and elbow tie-up—oh my, look at that! Frankenstein’s Monster just clubs Peter Cottontail with The Bolt Driver, a devastating double axe handle right to the skull!”
Eddie: “Beautiful! That’s 500 pounds of pure power crashing down. You can hit the gym all you want, Johnny, but you can’t build a neck strong enough for that!”
Johnny: “But Peter fires back! Dropkicks! A pair of them, sending the Monster stumbling backwards toward the ropes!”
Johnny: “Another exchange—Frankenstein’s Monster with another Bolt Driver! He’s pounding Cottontail like a railroad spike!”
Eddie: “And that’s exactly what Peter is—just a little nail sticking out where it doesn’t belong. Pound him down, Monster!”
Johnny: “Wait a second! Peter with a turnaround sidekick! That caught the big man square on the jaw!”
Johnny: “Ohhh! A Flat Liner! Running powerslam from Frankenstein’s Monster—it nearly drove Peter straight through the canvas!”
Eddie: “That’s a squash if I’ve ever seen one! Just roll him over and count three!”
Johnny: “Not yet, Eddie—Peter counters with deep armdrags, trying to use leverage to turn the tide!”
Johnny: “Monster back up—another Bolt Driver! He’s hammering Peter Cottontail at every turn!”
Eddie: “Like chopping wood, Johnny! And look at the good doctor at ringside—he’s loving every second of it. Can you blame him?”
Johnny: “Knife-edge chops from Peter! Listen to the crowd—WHOOO! He’s trying to rally!”
Johnny: “Frankenstein’s Monster with the Graveyard Slam! What impact!”
Eddie: “Goodnight, Peter Rabbit! Back to the storybooks for you!”
Johnny: “Not so fast! Peter leaps up with a judo chop right to the throat! He’s still got fight left in him!”
Johnny: “Cottontail with another leaping judo chop! He’s hammering away at the Monster!”
Eddie: “Yeah, and the Monster’s not even moving, Johnny! He’s absorbing it all. Like punching a brick wall with bunny paws!”
Johnny: “Monster finally answers back with that massive Heavy Hand back smash—oh but Peter hits a dropkick at the same time! Both men stagger but stay on their feet!”
Eddie: “That dropkick’s like throwing a pebble at a tank. Monster barely felt it.”
Johnny: “Both men back and forth now—Monster grabs him! Oh no—he just hurls Peter Cottontail right out of the ring with a vicious throw!”
Eddie: “Goodbye, Peter! He’s gonna need a GPS just to find his way back to the ring!”
Johnny: “The referee, Honest Abe, starting the count—Peter’s slow to rise… 6… 7… 8… he’s not gonna make it back! 9… 10! That’s it! Peter Cottontail is counted out!”
Eddie: “Hah! Perfect strategy by the Monster—why bother pinning the bunny when you can just toss him out and let the count do the work?”
Johnny: “Frankenstein’s Monster wins by count-out after throwing Peter Cottontail to the outside! Folks, Peter gave it his all, but tonight the size and strength of the Monster was just too much to overcome.”
Eddie: “Johnny, this is what I’ve been saying! You don’t bring a carrot to a chainsaw fight. The Monster is unstoppable, and Dr. Frankenstein has his Alpha Monster tuned up and ready for anyone dumb enough to step in that ring!”
Johnny: “Fans, stay tuned—we’ve got plenty more action coming your way here on NPCW Polar Power!”
Johnny: Fans, here we go—Hansel of the Hunters Enclave against the massive Goliath! Look at the size difference, Eddie. Hansel’s got guts even stepping in the ring tonight.
Eddie: Guts? More like no brains, Johnny. You don’t fight a mountain with a slingshot—unless you want to be buried under an avalanche.
Johnny: And right away Goliath just plants his boot across Hansel’s throat—choking him in the corner!
Eddie: That’s called efficiency, Johnny. Why waste time when you can just step on a man and watch him squirm?
Johnny: Hansel fights back—flying forearm smash! He’s showing his speed!
Eddie: Ha! And Goliath crushes him with a splash in the corner. That’s like running into a brick wall with frosting on it.
Johnny: Hansel with a spine crusher! He’s trying to chop down the giant!
Eddie: Yeah, and the giant just rammed him into the steel post! You don’t chop Goliath down—you get chopped up!
Johnny: Another flying forearm from Hansel—he’s connecting!
Eddie: Goliath’s still standing, Johnny. You can throw forearms all night; he’s like a stone pillar.
Johnny: Both men colliding—Hansel hits a forearm, but Goliath drives an elbow right into Hansel’s throat!
Eddie: Beautiful! That’ll shut down his windpipe and his momentum.
Johnny: Dropkick from Hansel! He’s got Goliath staggering!
Eddie: And right into the bearhug! Wrap it up, big man, squeeze him like a juice box!
Johnny: Hansel refusing to submit! He’s still fighting!
Johnny: Belly-to-belly suplex! Hansel gets the giant over! Cover!
Crowd: One! Two!
Johnny: Kick out by Goliath at two!
Eddie: Don’t insult Goliath with those little boy covers, Johnny.
Johnny: Forearm from Hansel—but Goliath right back with that choke with the foot!
Eddie: It’s not pretty, but it’s effective. That’s dominance!
Johnny: Oh come on, Goliath’s intimidating the ref and Hansel with that cold stare—
Eddie: Johnny, when you’re that big, you don’t even need to wrestle. You just look at people and they crumble.
Johnny: Hansel firing back! Another flying forearm!
Eddie: And another boot choke from Goliath. Like swatting a fly.
Johnny: Goliath tries to ram Hansel into the post—but Hansel reverses it! Atomic kneebrop!
Eddie: He absorbed it, Johnny. That’s not hurting the big man, it’s just making him mad.
Johnny: Hansel’s spinning toe hold! He’s going for the legs! Cover!
Crowd: One! Two!
Johnny: Kick out by Goliath again!
Eddie: Rookie mistake, Johnny—pinning a skyscraper like it’s a sandcastle.
Johnny: Boston Crab! Hansel’s got it locked in!
Eddie: That’s like pulling on a tree root. Useless!
Johnny: Both men landing big shots—forearms, suplexes—Hansel with another cover—
Eddie: Goliath kicks out before two. Don’t waste our time, Hansel.
Johnny: Goliath counters! Powerslam! He covers!
Crowd: One! Two!
Johnny: Hansel kicks out! He will not stay down!
Eddie: Dumbest thing he ever did. Just lay there, kid. Save yourself.
Johnny: Back and forth—Hansel with counters, Goliath hurling him through the ropes—Hansel makes it back at six!
Eddie: Should’ve stayed out, Johnny. Saved himself from the beating.
Johnny: Hansel with another flying forearm—cover!
Crowd: One!
Johnny: Goliath powers out! But Hansel is staying on him!
Eddie: This guy just doesn’t know when he’s beaten.
Johnny: Dropkick! Hansel nailed him! He’s down! Cover!
Crowd: One! Two! Three!
Johnny: He got him! He got him! Hansel with the upset victory over the monster Goliath!
Eddie: This is highway robbery! Goliath had this match won ten times over. Hansel just got lucky with a desperate kick.
Johnny: Lucky or not, Hansel just pinned the giant, and the Hunters Enclave will celebrate this one for a long, long time!
SANDMAN’S NIGHTMARE
The screen fades into mist, swirling like smoke over a pale moon. A soft lullaby plays faintly, slowed down and warped, almost unsettling. The camera drifts through a desolate dreamscape—half foggy graveyard, half starlit void. Broken clocks hang in the air, pendulums swinging in silence. The Northern Lights title sits on a black velvet pillow, glowing faintly, almost as though it were alive.
Sandman (voiceover, whisper-like, echoing): “Dreams… they are where hope is born… and where fear comes to die. For me, the Northern Lights Championship was once just that—a dream. A fleeting vision of glory in the endless sleep.”
Sandman steps into frame, his face hidden under his dark hood, eyes barely visible, glowing faintly. He slowly lifts the Northern Lights Title onto his shoulder. The lullaby fades into the sound of deep breathing, almost like the viewer is being pulled into sleep.
Sandman (calm, unnerving): “But what was my dream… has become your nightmare. For as long as I hold this title, every challenger who steps forward… will be pulled into the long sleep. Their struggles will fade… their breath will slow… and in the end… they will awaken only to the cold embrace of defeat.”
Images flash like fragments of dreams: Abaddon’s face painted across the mist, Van Helsing loading a crossbow in silhouette, other NPCW warriors distorted as though glimpsed through fractured glass. Each one fades away into blackness as Sandman speaks.
Sandman (his tone growing darker, almost hypnotic): “Abaddon, Van Helsing, whoever dares… it doesn’t matter. You are walking into my world. A world where time stops. Where screams are silenced. Where the Sandman decides when you close your eyes… and when you never open them again.”
He slowly raises one pale hand, sprinkling fine sand through his fingers. As it falls, the sound of it hitting the ground echoes like thunder. The camera pushes in close on his mouth beneath the hood.
Sandman (soft, chilling whisper): “Rest well… because the dream has only just begun.”
The screen goes to black. Only the words appear in white, slowly fading in like mist:
“Sandman – Northern Lights Champion”
“Sweet Dreams… Eternal Nightmares.”
Fade out with the sound of a lullaby music box closing shut.
[LIVE AFTER VIGNETTE – COMMENTARY DESK]
Johnny: [shaking his head slightly, almost spooked] “Folks… I don’t know what we just witnessed. That was eerie, that was chilling, and that was Sandman in his element. The Northern Lights Champion is sending a very clear message—he’s not just defending a title, he’s dragging challengers into his own world!”
Eddie: [smirking, leaning back] “And what a world it is, Johnny! A dreamscape… a nightmare factory! That man doesn’t fight you in the ring, he puts you under, he pulls you into the darkness where HE controls the outcome. I mean, Abaddon? Van Helsing? It doesn’t matter which of these so-called contenders steps up—they’re all going to be put to sleep by the Sandman!”
Johnny: “But let’s not forget—this is NPCW, this is Polar Power. We’ve seen warriors like Abaddon drag men to hell and back, we’ve seen Van Helsing take down monsters twice his size. To them, Sandman’s threat isn’t a lullaby—it’s a challenge.”
Eddie: [cutting him off] “Challenge? Please! You don’t challenge the Sandman, you don’t wake him up! You cross that man and you’re closing your eyes for the last time inside that ring. His dream became reality, Johnny, and for the rest of the roster? It’s going to be one long, sleepless nightmare.”
Johnny: [serious, leaning in] “Well, one thing is certain—the Northern Lights Championship has never been in stranger hands. Sweet dreams may be for Sandman, but for anyone who dares to step into that dreamscape… it could very well be their worst nightmare.”
Camera cuts to crowd murmuring with a mix of awe and unease before fading to the next segment.
Johnny: “We’re back with more Polar Power action, ladies and gentlemen, and it’s time for the debut of Bella Aurelia! She’s stepping into the ring with one of the most cunning and cruel competitors in NPCW, Regina the Evil Queen of the Queens of Despair, accompanied of course by that ominous presence at ringside, the Huntsman.”
Eddie: “Cunning and cruel? Johnny, you make it sound like a bad thing! Regina is royalty, she’s class, she’s ruthless, and that’s exactly why she’s dominant. Bella Aurelia? Debut match, too much sparkle, not enough substance. She’s walking into a buzzsaw, and I hope she brought tissues.”
Johnny: “You’ve clearly underestimated Bella before she’s even stepped in the ring, Eddie. She’s trained, she’s powerful, and Beauty and the Beast have made waves in every promotion they’ve touched. This could be the start of something special here in NPCW.”
Johnny: “There’s the bell—Bella locking up with Regina… oh! Quick snap suplex! That’s power from the newcomer!”
Eddie: “Beginner’s luck! She won’t get two of those, Johnny. Regina knows every dirty trick in the book.”
Johnny: “Another suplex! Bella is chaining them together—look at that Samoan Driver! Cover! No—Regina rolls it into a pin attempt of her own! This could do it—ONE, TWO—No! Bella kicks out!”
Eddie: “That’s that ring IQ from Regina! Always three steps ahead. Bella thought she had her, but royalty doesn’t go down that easily.”
Johnny: “Bella’s firing back—forearm smash! Big short-arm lariat! She’s stringing offense together, Eddie!”
Eddie: “Doesn’t matter. Regina’s just letting her burn out. Look at the Huntsman—perfectly placed distraction! Honest Abe didn’t see it, and Bella ate that forest mist earlier!”
Johnny: “Huntsman is stealing the spotlight again, but Bella is showing grit—hip toss! She’s posing to the crowd—cover! One, two—No! Regina barely kicks out!”
Eddie: “Too much showboating, Johnny! You don’t pose in front of a Queen! You kneel!”
Johnny: “Regina back on top now—diving splash! Cover! One, two—Bella out again! This young competitor refuses to stay down!”
Eddie: “But for how long? She’s already been raked across the eyes three times, and Regina hasn’t even started digging deep into her bag of tricks.”
Johnny: “Wait a second—Bella fights off Huntsman’s interference! Snap suplex to the Queen! Running knee strike—she’s rolling now!”
Eddie: “No, no, no! Don’t let this happen—”
Johnny: “Leg sweep DDT! Regina’s rocked—Bella’s got her where she wants her—Hip Toss and Pose! She hooks the leg—ONE! TWO! THREE! Bella Aurelia wins her debut here in NPCW!!!”
Crowd: [erupts in cheers]
Johnny: “What a victory! Bella Aurelia just pinned Regina the Evil Queen in her very first match!”
Eddie: “This is a disgrace! An outrage! Somebody check that count! Honest Abe must’ve dozed off—there’s no way!”
Johnny: “Bella’s celebrating in the ring—but wait! Regina’s up—and she blindsides Bella! A vicious attack from behind!”
Eddie: [gleeful] “Now this is what I like to see! Teach the rookie a lesson, Queen!”
Johnny: “It’s a two-on-one now, Eddie—Malice is storming down the ramp! The other half of the Queens of Despair is here! Bella is getting mauled by Regina and Malice! This is a savage beating!”
Eddie: “Welcome to NPCW, Bella! This is what happens when you disrespect royalty!”
Johnny: “Wait a minute—here comes URSA TITANIA! Bella’s partner, the powerhouse of Beauty and the Beast! She’s in the ring, swinging for the fences! Malice is rocked, Regina goes flying to the outside! The tide has turned!”
Eddie: “Oh great, here comes the circus act…”
Johnny: “The Queens of Despair retreating up the ramp, but Bella Aurelia and Ursa Titania stand tall in the ring tonight! Beauty and the Beast have arrived in NPCW—and what a debut for Bella Aurelia!”
Eddie: “Yeah, yeah, one lucky night. But next time, Johnny, royalty won’t be so merciful.”
Johnny: “Folks, the tag division just got hotter—Beauty and the Beast making their mark, and you can bet the Queens of Despair are not going to forget this one!”
Camera lingers on Bella clutching her ribs but smiling, with Ursa Titania at her side, as the crowd cheers.
Johnny: Fans, here we go—Blitzen and Donner, representing the Reindeer Coalition, taking on their corrupted former teammates Cupid and Dancer of the Slay Team. This one has been brewing for weeks, and with Fenwick Grimbough at ringside, you know the Coalition has to keep their heads on a swivel.
Eddie: Keep their heads on a swivel? Johnny, Blitzen and Donner should keep their resumes updated. They’re outclassed, outgunned, and outsmarted. Cupid and Dancer are the future, and the Coalition is stuck in the past pulling sleighs for scraps.
Johnny: And joining us here at the desk is none other than NPCW Universal Champion Sinister Klaus. Klaus, what do you make of this battle of holiday heavyweights?
Klaus: Ho-ho-ho, Johnny… this is beautiful. Two reindeer gone rotten, spreading chaos under my black banner. Cupid and Dancer—they’re not pulling sleighs anymore. They’re pulling destinies apart.
Johnny: And right off the bat, all four reindeer charge in—Blitzen stomps away, but Cupid and Dancer double-team with Reindeer Clomps of their own!
Eddie: That’s how you do it, teamwork! Coalition doesn’t understand that. Slay Team are innovators!
Johnny: Blitzen’s rocked, but here comes Donner with Blitzen—Coalition trying to respond with some double offense—headbutts, stomps—
Eddie: Nope! Cupid cuts ‘em off! That’s ring awareness, Johnny. Something the Coalition never had.
Klaus: Look at Donner crumble. The Slay Team is teaching the Coalition the only lesson that matters—follow power, or get trampled beneath it.
Johnny: The match is all chaos right now—big shoulder tackles, aerial presses—what impact! Cupid nearly had a three-count, but Donner kicks out!
Eddie: Nearly doesn’t cut it, Johnny. Cupid’s softening him up. It’s only a matter of time.
Johnny: Blitzen tags back in, coming with heavy clomps, mule kicks—Cupid firing back! Neither man giving an inch.
Eddie: And every inch lost by the Coalition belongs to the Slay Team.
Klaus: You can feel it, can’t you, Johnny? The tide belongs to us. Every stomp, every press, every kick—it’s the rhythm of inevitability.
Johnny: But look at Donner—Thunderclap Powerbomb on Dancer! Huge move! He’s firing the Coalition back into this contest!
Eddie: A lucky shot, Johnny! Even a broken ornament shines once before it shatters.
Johnny: Back and forth now, both sides trading punishing offense! High-impact attacks—Stomps, Clomps, Presses! This is turning into a war of attrition!
Klaus: Attrition, Johnny? Attrition is for the weak. Dancer and Cupid aren’t wearing down—they’re sharpening their antlers.
Johnny: Into the closing minutes now—Donner with a surge, big Shooting Star Press! Dancer with a Spinning Heel Kick! This crowd is on their feet!
Eddie: They’re on their feet for the Slay Team, Johnny. Nobody cheers the Coalition except Rudolph’s mom.
Johnny: We’re in the final stretch—both sides exhausted, both sides battered—wait a minute! Fenwick Grimbough with the rulebook! He just nailed Donner when the referee’s back was turned!
Eddie: Perfectly legal if Abe didn’t see it, Johnny!
Klaus: That’s the beauty of power, Johnny. You bend the rules until they break.
Johnny: Dancer covers—1…2…no! Donner kicks out! Unbelievable resilience from the Coalition!
Eddie: Unbelievable stupidity. Stay down, Donner!
Johnny: And there’s the bell! Time has run out! After thirty minutes of punishment, this one is a draw!
Klaus: A draw? No, Johnny. This is only the beginning. The Slay Team didn’t come here for victories—they came to corrupt the spirit of Polar Power. And when I’m done, there won’t be any Coalition left to fight.
Johnny: Fans, what a battle! The war between the Reindeer Coalition and the Slay Team is far from over, and you know Sinister Klaus and his dark vision loom larger than ever!
THE YULETIDE TITANS
[Backstage – Smooth Samantha stands in front of the NPCW backdrop, microphone in hand. The camera pans out to reveal the towering figures of the Yuletide Titans: Kris Kringle, rugged in his green-and-black gear with a weathered cloak over his broad shoulders, and Santa Claus in his red battle-coat, eyes burning with righteous fire.]
Samantha: Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome my guests at this time… the Yuletide Titans themselves—Santa Claus and the man who shocked the world with his return at Shadowfall… Kris Kringle.
[Crowd in the arena pops loudly at the mention of their names, faint chants of “TITANS! TITANS!” bleeding into the audio feed.]
Samantha (with energy): Kris, the entire world saw what went down at Shadowfall, when you stormed back into the ring for the first time in decades to stand side by side with Rudolph—and then, in a moment that left us all speechless, you brought Santa Claus himself into the fight against Sinister Klaus. Let’s take a look.
[Replay airs: Kringle’s storming entrance, flooring Fenwick, trading haymakers with Klaus, Santa’s descent from the rafters to a thunderous “HO HO HO,” the annihilation of Belsnickel and Hans Trapp, and finally Santa and Kringle standing together, clotheslining Sinister Klaus to the floor. The crowd reaction from Shadowfall echoes over the replay, ending on the Titans arm-in-arm, glaring out at the villains.]
[Cut back to backstage—Kringle and Santa stand stoic, the crowd’s cheers rumbling faintly through the arena walls.]
Samantha (awed): Kris, after all these years, after walking away from the ring, you came back at Shadowfall with fury in your eyes and a cause in your heart. What brought you back?
Kris Kringle (gravelly, with a weight of years in his voice): Samantha… I’ve spent years in the shadows. Watching. Waiting. Carrying the weight of battles long past. I thought my fight was done. But then I saw what Klaus had become—the poison he spread through NPCW, the corruption he laid on the spirit of the season. I couldn’t stand by. I wouldn’t stand by. The dream I fought for all those years ago… it had become a nightmare. And when Rudolph stood alone against the darkness, I knew it was time to step out of the shadows… and make sure he wasn’t fighting it by himself.
[The crowd cheers again, “KRIS! KRIS! KRIS!”]
Samantha (turns): And Santa—your arrival shook this company to its core. For weeks, Sinister Klaus has paraded around as a twisted reflection of you, claiming to be the true Santa. Fans want to know—where were you all this time, while Klaus pretended to be an evil version of you?
[Santa lowers the mic briefly, his eyes narrowing, then raises his massive hand to still the crowd noise.]
Santa Claus (deep, commanding): Samantha… that is a story for another time. What matters now… is that I’m here. The real Santa Claus. The one who brings hope, not despair. The one who gives, not takes. And I came back to do what I’ve always done—fight for the light.
[Crowd ERUPTS in the arena, chants of “SAN-TA! SAN-TA!” roll like thunder.]
Samantha (nods): So what’s next for the Yuletide Titans?
[Kringle and Santa exchange a glance—two legends bound by purpose. Kringle leans in.]
Kris Kringle: What’s next, Samantha? War. Grim Tidings is spreading its shadow over NPCW. Klaus, Belsnickel, Trapp… their darkness grows with every passing night. But we are not afraid of the dark. We are the light.
Santa Claus (booming, fiery): At Polar Power, at Shadowfall, and everywhere they hide—we’ll hunt them down. We’ll tear through their lies, their tricks, their shadows. Because when the Yuletide Titans stand together, no darkness can snuff out our flame.
Kringle (growling with finality): Abaddon. Alphas. Klaus. Any of you who think you can carry the nightmare further—when you step up to us, you’ll find only one thing waiting… the long, cold reckoning of the North.
Santa (raising his fist, voice booming): And as long as the Titans stand, NPCW will have what Grim Tidings cannot take—HOPE!
[Santa’s booming voice echoes. The crowd in the arena is deafening—“HOPE! HOPE! HOPE!” chants.]
Samantha (smiling but serious): Santa Claus. Kris Kringle. The Yuletide Titans are here in NPCW—and the forces of darkness have been warned.
[Camera fades out on Santa and Kringle, shoulder-to-shoulder, burning intensity in their eyes, as the NPCW logo splashes across the screen.]
Johnny: And here we go! Alice, one half of the North Star Tag Team Champions, making her way to the ring for her singles debut tonight, taking on the Alpha Witch herself—Wicked Witch!
Eddie: Oh Johnny… debuting, yes… but stepping into the ring with Wicked Witch and her Coven? You might as well hand her a shovel—she’s digging her own grave tonight!
Johnny: The bell rings! Alice immediately with an over-the-shoulder arm drag! She’s not letting Wicked Witch breathe early.
Eddie: Breathe? Alice better hold her breath for the next thirty minutes, because the Coven isn’t here to sip tea!
Johnny: Wicked Witch responds with a Black Magic Backbreaker! She’s punishing Alice right out of the gate!
Eddie: And that’s just the appetizer, Johnny. You can see it—Alice is fighting for her life here.
Johnny: Alice counters with a Rabbit Hole D.D.T.! Beautiful technique!
Eddie: Technique? Ha! She’s flailing against sorcery and brooms! Give me a break!
Johnny: The Coven is interfering now—Smack With Broomstick! Alice barely avoids being taken out. She tries to retaliate, but the witches are relentless!
Eddie: And that’s why she’s going to lose, Johnny. She’s in over her head. I can feel it.
Johnny: Alice with a Superkick, but Wicked Witch neutralizes it—oh, that’s some veteran savvy right there.
Eddie: Savvy? She’s practically reading Alice’s mind! The Coven is whispering dark secrets in her ear—this isn’t a fight, it’s a slaughter!
Johnny: Alice hits a Wonderland Whirl Hurricanerana—she’s gaining some momentum!
Eddie: Momentum is temporary, Johnny. Magic lasts forever.
Johnny: Alice locks in a Keylock—Wicked Witch writhes—but here comes the Coven again! Alice fights them off! She’s keeping them at bay for several rounds!
Eddie: Well, I’ll be… Alice is actually holding her own for once. But Johnny, we’re still twenty minutes from the finish, and you know the Coven has plenty of tricks left.
Johnny: Alice executes a Tilt-A-Whirl Small Package! She’s trying to get the win while keeping the witches under control.
Eddie: She’s going to regret it—every move she makes is watched by three very vengeful witches. Look at them, scheming!
Johnny: Alice lands Wonderland’s End Moonsault! Could this be it? She goes for the pin!
Eddie: Pin? Against the Alpha Witch? That’s adorable.
Johnny: 1… 2… Wicked Witch kicks out! Incredible resilience!
Eddie: Resilience? That’s witchcraft, Johnny. Pure witchcraft.
Johnny: Alice keeps pushing, CODE RED Sunset Flip Powerbomb! She’s not giving up!
Eddie: And that’s why she’s my favorite target tonight—cocky, determined, and about to learn the hard way.
Johnny: Wicked Witch catches her with a Black Magic Backbreaker! Alice is trapped in the Ankle Lock!
Eddie: And she doesn’t tap! Foolish girl! This is why she’ll never beat the Coven…
Johnny: The match has been a grueling back-and-forth, but finally, Wicked Witch sets up a Smack With Broomstick… Alice is down!
Eddie: And that’s it! The Alpha Witch takes the win! Told you, Johnny—bless her heart, Alice gave it her all, but the Coven always gets the last laugh!
Johnny: What a brutal debut for Alice! She showed incredible heart tonight, but the power of the Coven was just too much to overcome.
Eddie: Heart won’t save you from magic, Johnny… or brooms.
Johnny: Welcome back, folks, and it’s time for our seventh contest of the night—Belsnickel, accompanied by Fenwick Grimbough, squaring off with one of the fan favorites here in NPCW, Frosty the Snowman!
Eddie: Fan favorite? That overstuffed ice sculpture doesn’t belong in a wrestling ring, Johnny. He belongs in a snow globe on somebody’s mantel. Tonight, Belsnickel’s going to send him right back to the front yard where he belongs.
Johnny: The bell rings—and right out of the gate, Belsnickel with a big suplex, planting Frosty hard! But Frosty bounces back with a Frostbite Suplex of his own! Both men trading power moves in the early going!
Eddie: Yeah, but look at the way Belsnickel’s suplex rattled the ring! Frosty’s just lucky the snowflakes held him together.
Johnny: Belsnickel scoops him up—powerslam! But Frosty fires back with that Stove Top Hat Headbutt! He’s using every part of his body as a weapon here.
Eddie: It’s not strategy, Johnny. It’s desperation. When you’ve got a hat and a carrot for offense, you’re in trouble!
Johnny: Both men up again, and Belsnickel with another suplex—wait a minute! Frosty answers instantly with the Frostbite Suplex, throwing the big man across the ring!
Eddie: That’s pure luck. Frosty’s running on borrowed time. Belsnickel is tenacious, and Grimbough at ringside is keeping him focused.
Johnny: Another suplex by Belsnickel! But Frosty… Frosty counters yet again with the Frostbite Suplex! Neither man giving an inch!
Eddie: You notice the pattern? Frosty’s just reacting. Belsnickel is the one dictating this match, setting the pace, making Frosty chase him. That’s why Belsnickel’s dangerous.
Johnny: Big moment here! Belsnickel comes off the ropes—Ringing the Bell! A huge flying lariat takes Frosty down! But Frosty powers up—Blizzard Buster! A devastating sit-down powerbomb that nearly caves in the ring!
Eddie: That was blind luck, Johnny. If Frosty keeps throwing his weight around like that, he’s going to melt halfway through the match!
Johnny: Both men back up in the sixth minute—Belsnickel with a thunderous powerslam, but Frosty again fires back with the Frostbite Suplex! These two are matching move for move!
Eddie: No, no, no. Frosty is just copying. Belsnickel’s the original. Frosty’s a cheap snow clone!
Johnny: Seventh minute now—Belsnickel tries to catch Frosty, but Frosty reverses—Blizzard Buster again! He plants Belsnickel! Belsnickel tried to defend it, but he couldn’t stop that impact!
Eddie: Honest Abe’s reffing this one, right? Figures. Frosty gets away with everything when this guy’s in the stripes.
Johnny: Both men looking worn down as we hit the eighth minute—Belsnickel with another suplex! But Frosty crushes him with the Snowball Slam! What a collision!
Eddie: If Belsnickel can just stay on him, Johnny, he’s got this. Frosty doesn’t have the stamina.
Johnny: Ninth minute—Belsnickel with a hip toss! But wait—Frosty scoops him up and throws him out of the ring!
Eddie: No! No, keep your footing! Don’t let that frosty freak chuck you like that!
Johnny: The referee begins the count… 1… 2… 3… Belsnickel’s on the outside, dazed! Grimbough is shouting for him to get up! 6… 7… 8… 9… 10! He’s counted out! Frosty wins!
Eddie: Oh come on, Johnny! That’s a travesty! Frosty didn’t win this match—Belsnickel just got robbed by the count-out!
Johnny: Like it or not, Eddie, the record books will show Frosty defeating Belsnickel tonight, and the fans are on their feet! Frosty survives the onslaught and gets his hand raised here at Polar Power!
Eddie: Survives, sure. But beat him? No way. You give Belsnickel five more minutes, Frosty’s nothing but a puddle.
Johnny: Folks, Frosty gets a huge victory tonight, but you know Belsnickel and Fenwick Grimbough won’t take this lying down. Something tells me this rivalry is far from over!
HUNTERS ENCLAVE
(Scene opens in near-darkness. A candle flame flickers. Then another. Soon dozens of candles glow, revealing the vast and foreboding Hunters’ Enclave meeting hall. The atmosphere is like a cathedral mixed with a war room — stone walls lined with weapons, mounted trophies from defeated monsters, and shadowy portraits. At the front, a stage holds a massive oak table with seven high-backed chairs. The Hunters’ Crest — a silver stake crossed over a wolf’s fang — hangs draped in banners behind it.)
NARRATOR (low, gravelly): "When the world forgets its shadows… someone must remember."
(The doors creak open. Slowly, Van Helsing walks in. Long coat trailing, fedora shadowing his stern face, he carries a silver-headed cane. He strides through the center aisle with the gravity of a man who’s seen centuries of horrors. His voice begins as he walks, echoing through the great hall.)
Van Helsing (monologue): "There has always been darkness. It slithers into kingdoms, poisons the faithful, corrupts the strong. For every hero that rises… there are monsters waiting to drag them into the grave. The North Pole is no different. Shadows have come for NPCW."
(As he passes, the camera lingers on artifacts in the background — a faded etching of Dracula’s castle, a glass case containing a tattered Cthulhu cult symbol, a scorched map of the Monastery of the Circle of the False Light, broken weapons and relics of past battles. These hints tell the viewer the Enclave’s reach goes far beyond NPCW.)
Van Helsing: "But when darkness rises… so do we. We are the Hunters’ Enclave. We do not yield. We do not falter. We do not forgive."
(As he steps closer to the stage, a shadow joins behind him. It is Hansel, scarred but unbroken, clutching his axe. He stands silently, staring forward. A moment later, Gretel steps from the opposite side,chains in her hands, eyes fierce and unflinching. Then one by one, the others emerge like ghosts joining a formation.)
Scarlett Howl — crimson scarf tied around her arm, a crossbow slung at her side.
Crimson Vane — enigmatic, cloak drawn tight.
Ruby Howl — younger, defiant, with wolf-like intensity.
Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn — rogue hunters, mismatched but fearless, carrying old-world rifles and silver stakes tucked into their belts.
(Non-descript hunters begin to fill the hall’s chairs, silent, their faces in shadow, until the hall feels full. A true army, not just seven names.)
Van Helsing (voice steady, gathering momentum): "We are not seven. We are not seventy. We are LEGION. And when you come for one of us… you will find ALL of us. Shoulder to shoulder. Blade to blade. Against every creeping horror that thinks it can sink its fangs into this world."
(He ascends the stage and turns. The camera follows as he stops at a wall of framed portraits and relics. His hand touches one gently — a faded, smiling picture of Mina Harker, framed from a happier, brighter time. His eyes soften for just a moment before steel returns to his voice.)
Van Helsing (final words): "We are an eternal order. The tip of the spear. The hand that drives the stake. We are used to defanging the monsters of the night."
(He looks to the camera, and at once the entire hall rises, fists clenched, voices booming in unison in Latin:)
All Hunters (chanting):
"Umbrae Non Vincunt!"
(“The Shadows Shall Not Conquer.”)
(The screen fades to black, but the chant echoes into silence.)
Johnny Michaels: “What a chilling statement from Van Helsing and the Enclave! Eddie, I don’t know about you, but when he stopped in front of that portrait of Mina Harker… I swear there was an underlying threat aimed straight at Count Vlad of HCW’s Dark Dominion. Remember, it was Vlad who turned Mina against Scarlett Howl down south.”
Eddie Ellington: “Johnny, Johnny, Johnny… that’s HCW. That’s their business. We’re NPCW. I don’t care what Vlad did or didn’t do in some other promotion. What matters here is this Enclave marching in and acting like they’ve got authority in the North!”
Johnny Michaels: “I hear you, but it all connects, Eddie! Shadows are creeping across wrestling everywhere—HCW, NPCW, it’s all the same battlefield. If Vlad and the Dominion are pulling strings down there, what’s to stop them from reaching into our backyard up here?”
Eddie Ellington: “Because this is our backyard, and we’ve got our own monsters to deal with! Sandman, Demoness Lilith, Sinister Klaus—need I go on? Van Helsing needs to keep his crosshairs on what’s in front of him here, not chasing ghosts of some castle overseas.”
Johnny Michaels: “Still, you can’t ignore the symbolism. Dracula’s shadow has loomed for centuries, and if Vlad ever decided to come North—”
Eddie Ellington: “Oh, please. If Vlad ever comes North, I’ll be the first to sell garlic at the concession stand. Until then, Johnny, let’s focus on what’s real. NPCW is where the fight is, not HCW. And the Enclave better remember, when you step into this ring, you play by our rules, not theirs.”
The crowd is buzzing, stomping on the ice floor, anticipation thick in the air. The lights dim and the spotlights hit the ring as Louie Linville, decked out in his powder-blue tuxedo, takes the microphone.
Louie Linville: “Ladies and gentlemen… this is your MAIN EVENT of the evening! A six-man tag team match… with a forty-five minute time limit!”
The fans roar.
Louie Linville: “Introducing first… accompanied by Polly Mason and Marcus the Beast Master… at a combined weight of 925 pounds… the wild fury of muscle and madness, the untamed horde of primal rage… this is MEAN JACK MASON, your reigning NORTH POLE CHAMPION… and the NPCW TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS… THE BEASTS! Together they are… THE PRIMAL HORDE!”
[Arena plunges into darkness.]
A tribal war drum rhythm begins, joined by guttural chants and bestial growls. Suddenly, a harsh guitar riff shreds across the soundscape.
Polly Mason storms onto the stage first, eyes wild, screeching into the hard cam: “Bow to the HORDE! They OWN you all!”
The massive Beast 1 and Beast 2 follow, stomping with iron chains rattling from their necks, pounding their chests and roaring like feral animals. Then, with a flash of blood-red light, Mean Jack Mason emerges. He swaggers, smirking, beer bottle in hand. He jaw-jacks with the fans, then SMASHES the bottle against the barricade, glass raining down as fans recoil.
At their rear, Marcus the Beast Master strides like a silent sentinel, arms folded, eyes cold. The Primal Horde march to the ring together—an unstoppable wall of chaos and violence.
Johnny Michaels (on commentary): “Jack Mason, The Beasts, Polly, Marcus… Eddie, this is a warband, not a wrestling team. Look at ’em—wild, unhinged, and dangerous. That ring is their hunting ground tonight.”
Eddie Ellington: “That’s 925 pounds of primal destruction right there, Johnny. Who in their right mind wants to step in against these savages? Not me, that’s for sure. Mason’s smirk says it all—he doesn’t even think this’ll be a fight.”
The Horde enters the ring, Mason leaning back in the corner laughing, The Beasts pounding the turnbuckles like war drums. Polly screeches at the front row, Marcus stands arms folded, glowering.
Louie Linville: “And their opponents… first, from the Necrotic Depths of Negropolis… weighing in at 267 pounds… the Bringer of Death and Destruction… the Last Disciple of Negronomicon… NEGROPOLIS!”
[The arena plunges into pitch darkness again.]
A low drone of funeral chants fills the Dome as thick fog rolls across the stage. From the mist, Negropolis emerges, slow and deliberate, his long trench coat trailing, skull-faced mask fixed on the ring. He radiates ritualistic menace, unbothered by fan reaction.
Behind him, Ace MacDougall appears, holding Flippers aloft like Simba over Pride Rock, the crowd roaring at the absurdity of the moment.
Negropolis stops halfway down the ramp, turns sharply to the curtain, and points.
Louie Linville: “And his partner… he lit the way through the storm, and now he leads this entire federation! From the North Pole… RUUUDOLPH… THE RED-NOSED… REINDEER!!”
The arena erupts. Rudolph’s theme hits, but when he appears—it’s not the heroic stride fans expect. He emerges battered, bruised, and bandaged. His eye blackened, limp pronounced, but determination burning in his gaze. He moves slowly down the ramp, joining Negropolis and Ace.
Johnny Michaels: “Oh my… look at Rudolph! That’s not the same glowing symbol of hope we’re used to—he looks like he’s been through a war! He’s taped up, limping, but he’s HERE, Eddie!”
Eddie Ellington: “He should’ve stayed in the back, Johnny. He looks like a reindeer heading for the slaughterhouse. Mason’s laughing in the ring—and honestly, can you blame him?”
Camera cuts to Mason, doubled over in laughter, slapping Beast 1 on the chest, taunting Rudolph’s weakened state.
Rudolph, Ace, and Negropolis stop on the ramp, all turning back toward the curtain.
Suddenly, the lights cut to icy blue. A chilling wind howls through the arena. The sound of wolves snarling and branches snapping echoes through the Dome. Then—BLAST!—a heavy outlaw metal riff explodes from the speakers.
Through the curtain steps Molly Mason, dressed in a nurse’s uniform with crimson accents, a comforting smile on her face, medical bag in hand. Behind her stomps Jax Brenner, the Alaskan Wildman.
Unkempt hair, animal pelts draped over his frame, and a rusted pickaxe slung across his shoulder. His eyes burn with feral intensity as he snarls at the crowd, pacing wildly, thumping his chest. He SLAMS the pickaxe into the stage with a deafening CRACK, sparks flying.
Louie Linville (shaking in his voice): “And their partner… making his way to the ring, accompanied by Molly Mason… from the frozen wilds of Alaska, by way of HCW… a feral force of fury and vengeance, wielding rage forged in blood and survival… this is the ALASKAN WILDMAN… JAX BRENNERRR!!”
The crowd EXPLODES, half in shock, half in awe. Brenner storms down the ramp with Molly at his side. Rudolph, Negropolis, and Ace fall in line with him, the four staring daggers into the ring.
Johnny Michaels (nearly shouting): “It’s JAX BRENNER! The Alaskan Wildman is here in NPCW! Eddie, do you know what this means?! This man is FEARED down in HCW, a monster born of the tundra, and now he’s standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Rudolph and Negropolis!”
Eddie Ellington (furious): “Wait a second, Johnny—he’s HCW! What’s he even doing here? How is this legal?! Jack Mason’s right to argue this—this isn’t supposed to happen!”
Johnny Michaels: “I’ve just gotten word from production—hot off the presses, Eddie—a NEW agreement has been signed between HCW and NPCW. That’s right! Talent can now cross over! And Jax Brenner is the first bombshell dropped on this partnership!”
Eddie Ellington: “That’s insane! Mason didn’t sign up for this—look at his face, he’s fuming! This changes EVERYTHING.”
The camera catches Mean Jack Mason, red-faced, screaming at the referee, demanding to know how this is legal. Polly is shrieking at ringside, pointing at Molly Mason, nearly foaming with rage. The Beasts snarl, pacing.
Meanwhile, Brenner, Rudolph, and Negropolis enter the ring together like a warfront. Mason’s smirk is gone, replaced with pure rage as he rips off his jacket.
Johnny Michaels (excited): “Business just picked up, Eddie! Mason and the Primal Horde thought they had the numbers, thought they had the advantage—but look who’s standing across from them now!”
Eddie Ellington: “I don’t like it, Johnny. HCW dogs sniffing around our yard? This is dangerous. But I’ll admit it—that’s one hell of a stare-down.”
The crowd chants “This is AWESOME!” as both trios square off in the ring, the bell moments away.
Johnny: "Here we go, folks! The six-man main event is underway, and this place is electric! Negropolis, Rudolph, and the shocking newcomer Jax Brenner against Mean Jack Mason and the Beasts — the Primal Horde!"
Eddie: "You mean the Champions of Champions, Johnny. Look at ’em — size, power, gold. Mason’s a genius, the Beasts are monsters, and with Polly and the Beast Master at ringside this thing’s already over."
Beast 1 starts hot, hammering Negropolis, while Polly leaps to the apron reciting a manic poem, distracting the referee.
Johnny: "Oh, come on! Polly Mason again — Honest Abe needs eyes in the back of his head!"
Eddie: laughing "That’s called culture, Johnny. She’s a poet! Negropolis should be honored."
Beast 1 smothers Negropolis with power, forcing the tag.
Rudolph limps in, black eye glaring, still firing. Beast 1 tries to overpower him, but Rudolph shocks the crowd with a sudden pin reversal!
Johnny: "One… two—no! Rudolph almost stole it! That’s the heart of the Red-Nosed Warrior!"
Eddie: "Heart? That’s called dumb luck. He should’ve stayed home with a glass of eggnog instead of embarrassing himself in the ring."
Rudolph fights back with a desperate mule kick — the Reindeer Kick — but staggers to tag Negropolis.
Negropolis and Rudolph double-team Mason with aerials, rocking the champ.
Johnny: "Listen to this crowd! They want Mason’s head on a platter after all the chaos he’s caused!"
Eddie: "You mean they’re jealous! Jack Mason is the North Pole Champion, Johnny — he’s smarter, stronger, and tougher than these misfits could ever hope to be."
Negropolis nearly gets the pin with the Doom Bomb, but Mason wriggles free.
Johnny: "One… two—No! Mason kicks out at the last heartbeat!"
Eddie: "That’s why he’s champ! Negropolis should go crawl back to whatever graveyard he came from."
The Primal Horde take turns brutalizing Rudolph, even pulling off a triple-team when Honest Abe loses control.
Johnny: "It’s chaos! Beast 2, Beast 1, and Mason — all piling on Rudolph! This is a mugging, Eddie!"
Eddie: grinning "That’s what a family looks like, Johnny. The Masons look out for each other. Rudolph? He’s just red-nosed roadkill."
Rudolph gets destroyed with suplexes and even a low blow from Mason while the referee’s distracted.
Johnny: "That’s despicable!"
Eddie: "That’s strategy."
Rudolph fights back, miraculously hitting a flying dropkick and tagging Jax Brenner.
Johnny: "Here comes the Alaskan Wildman! The crowd is on its feet!"
Eddie: "Who even let him in here? This is NPCW, not some frozen cave in the Yukon!"
Johnny: "Eddie, memo just came down — HCW and NPCW have signed an agreement. Talent can cross over, and Brenner’s making the most of it tonight!"
Eddie: "Well, somebody should rip that memo up right now before Brenner eats somebody’s pet."
Brenner unleashes fury — Sasquatch Stomps, slams, even tries to pin, but Mason saves it at the last second.
Rudolph gets tagged back in despite his injuries. He fights valiantly, firing dropkicks, but the Beasts wear him down with relentless suplexes.
Molly Mason screams encouragement while Polly mocks her at ringside, twirling her purse threateningly.
Johnny: "Rudolph’s running on fumes — but listen to this crowd! They believe in him!"
Eddie: "Yeah, and they’ll believe in Santa Claus too when Mason finally puts him out of his misery!"
At the 19-minute mark, Beast 1 clamps on a side headlock, wrenching Rudolph down. The referee counts —
Johnny: "One… two… three! No! Yes—oh my goodness, it’s over! Beast 1 just pinned Rudolph with a crushing side headlock!"
Eddie: laughing triumphantly "Ha! What did I tell you? Mason and the Beasts are unstoppable! Rudolph got squeezed like a stress ball!"
Johnny: "The Primal Horde steal another one — but at what cost? Rudolph gave everything, Brenner made a terrifying debut, and Negropolis nearly had Mason beaten! This war is far from finished!"
CLOSING SEGMENT
The bell has barely rung before Mason and the Beasts slither out of the ring, the trio smirking like hyenas. Mason clutches his North Pole Championship to his chest, barking insults back at the ring while Polly recites another mocking rhyme, pointing at Rudolph’s limp frame.
Rudolph ran, but not too fast,
Beast 1 caught him—now he’s past.
No sleigh, no flight, no guiding light,
Just hoofprints stamped in pain and fright.
Red nose? More like black and blue,
Your Christmas cheer just got run through.
So dash away, dash out of sight—
Polly’s Beasts own this silent night.
Beast Master raises the arms of the Beasts, their snarling faces lit by the arena lights as the chorus of boos rains down.
In the ring, Negropolis kneels beside Rudolph, his skeletal mask tilted downward in grim silence. Jax Brenner, chest heaving like a wild animal just barely restrained, helps haul Rudolph upright. Together they lead him out of the arena, the crowd giving a respectful cheer as the underdogs limp to the back.
The camera follows — Rudolph barely conscious, draped across Brenner and Negropolis like a wounded soldier. The corridor is colder here, dimly lit, and waiting at the far end are two women.
Edie, Mason’s former girlfriend, is nearly in tears, wringing her hands. Beside her stands Lady Molly of Scotland Yard, immaculate in a tailored coat and hat, her posture regal but her eyes burning with determination.
Lady Molly immediately steps forward, wrapping an arm around Edie’s trembling shoulders.
Lady Molly (softly): “Don’t worry, my dear. We’ll get your Jack back.”
Edie nods, unable to speak. Her voice catches in her throat.
From under his mask, Negropolis lets out a derisive snort, his tone dripping with disdain.
Negropolis: “Even if I have to beat the sense back into him myself.”
Before the tension can thicken, Molly Mason hurries into frame, clutching her bag tightly, her expression troubled. She glances from Rudolph’s broken form to the departing champions, then fixes her eyes on Lady Molly.
Molly Mason (hesitant, then firm): “There’s something you should know about the Beasts. At first, I wasn’t certain. But… seeing them up close tonight — I know. They’re mine and Jack and Polly’s cousins. They disappeared years ago with my uncle after a yeti attack.”
The revelation stuns the group. Brenner’s wild eyes flare, his lips curling back in a snarl.
Lady Molly (thinking aloud): “Taken… twisted… changed by Dr. Moreau, no doubt.”
Brenner roars, his voice rough as gravel.
Brenner: “That damn Yeti. First he destroyed my family… now yours, Molly! I’ll tear him limb from limb!”
His hands clench into trembling fists, rage barely contained. Molly Mason steps close, pressing her hand to his chest, speaking gently to calm him.
Molly Mason: “Easy, Jax… we’ll need you whole for what’s coming.”
Negropolis crosses his arms, shaking his head slowly.
Negropolis (low, ominous): “This runs deeper than any of us imagined…”
Lady Molly nods gravely, then straightens with an air of authority.
Lady Molly: “It seems that way. But others are following different threads in this web. Give us time, and we’ll keep you informed. Trust me.”
She squeezes Edie’s hand, gives one last glance to Rudolph being tended to, and then turns briskly, heels echoing on the stone floor as she departs with Edie by her side.
Negropolis turns back to Brenner, extending a gloved hand.
Negropolis: “Thank you for coming, Wildman.”
Brenner stares at the hand for a moment, then smirks, refusing the gesture.
Brenner (snorting): “Didn’t do it for you, ugly skull-face. I did it for her.”
He jerks his chin toward Molly Mason.
Negropolis chuckles darkly beneath the mask.
Negropolis: “Then… thank you anyway.”
With that, Negropolis signals to Ace, Flippers, and the other allies. They carefully guide Rudolph down the hall, leaving Brenner and Molly Mason standing alone in the shadows.
For a moment there is silence… until a low growl echoes. Out of the darkness steps the Big Bad Wolf, swaggering with a toothy grin, his manner cocky yet predatory — pure suave and smoothness with a feral edge. He circles Brenner slowly, sniffing the air.
Big Bad Wolf (smirking, with a growl in his voice): “Rrrraahh… I smell it on you, chico. There’s a beast inside you, Wildman… but it ain’t the one that fool Yeti thinks.”
Brenner’s nostrils flare. He growls back, animalistic, nose to nose with the Wolf.
The Wolf’s grin widens. He lets out a thunderous howl, the sound echoing through the halls, before stepping back into the shadows, vanishing with eerie calm.
Brenner clenches his jaw, frowning, his fury bubbling just below the surface. Molly Mason looks at him with a meek but worried smile. He gives her a curt nod. Together, they walk off down the corridor — leaving the echo of the Wolf’s howl hanging heavy in the air as the show fades to black.
END OF SHOW TEASER
“The Sword in the Ice”
A sweeping snowy landscape in the far North. A glowing sword (clearly Excalibur-inspired) is embedded in a block of magical ice. Wind howls. The camera slowly pushes in as whispers in Old English echo: “The king shall return when the North needs him most.”
Text on screen:
“When legends rise… kingdoms tremble.”
[#HeIsComing]
Wow
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