THOUGHTS FROM THE BUNKER …
by Dave “The Brute” Kent
“Where the truth hits harder than a Beast Fang lariat.”
Folks, November’s shaping up to be an all-timer. The full card for HCW/NPCW: Convergence dropped on the 22nd, and let me tell ya—this isn’t just a crossover, this is a collision course between two entire philosophies of wrestling. You’ve got HCW’s hard-hitting, gritty, blood-and-bone style smashing headfirst into NPCW’s high-concept, mythic pageantry. It’s like throwing a bar fight into a Broadway show and seeing which one comes out breathing.
And credit where it’s due—both promotions are showing some serious guts. Twenty matches. Two nights. Two worlds, one ring. HCW’s letting their champions step into enemy territory with titles on the line, and NPCW’s rolling out their biggest stars to prove their magic isn’t just smoke and mirrors.
So let’s talk about three matches that already have my phone lighting up like a Christmas tree (and not the kind Rudolph’s happy about).
MATCH 1 — HCW WORLD TITLE MATCH
(HCW Night of Convergence — Night 2)
Jack Lumber (HCW World Champion / Timberfang of Dark Dominion)
vs.
Rudolph (NPCW Guiding Light / Former North Pole Champion)
Now this one’s got layers thicker than a Canadian forest in December.
First off, hats off to HCW for having the stones to let their World Title cross the border. That’s guts, plain and simple. A lot of companies talk about “open challenges” and “brand warfare,” but most of ‘em wouldn’t let another promotion’s poster boy breathe on their belt. HCW’s doing it. Respect.
Now, if Rudolph manages to beat Mean Jack Mason on October 31st to reclaim the North Pole Championship, this becomes champion vs. champion. And if there’s any fairness in the world (which there isn’t), NPCW should make it TITLE VS. TITLE.
But will they? Please. NPCW loves a grand spectacle, but when it comes to risk, they pull their punches faster than a Santa promo before the kids go to bed. My money says they’ll bill it as “prestige vs. power” or some marketing fluff and keep the NPCW belt tucked safely away in the workshop.
Now, make no mistake—Rudolph’s no pushover. The guy’s got the heart of a lion and charisma that can light up a whole arena. But Jack Lumber? He’s a monster. HCW’s World Champ isn’t just a brawler—he’s a calculated, lumberjack-built terminator with a mean streak longer than a Maine winter. He’s not coming to put on a show; he’s coming to make a statement.
Prediction: Jack Lumber retains. And if Rudolph’s not careful, he’s gonna be hanging from that world title like a red ornament on a pine tree.
MATCH 2 — HCW TELEVISION TITLE MATCH
(HCW Night of Convergence — Night 2)
Beast Fang (HCW TV Champion / Member of Dark Dominion)
vs.
Van Helsing (Leader of the Hunter’s Enclave)
If there’s one word for this match, it’s personal.
Van Helsing’s been obsessed with Beast Fang ever since Count Vlad—the Dark Dominion’s puppet master—turned his beloved Mina Harker to the dark side. You can see it in his eyes. The man’s not just hunting a vampire; he’s chasing redemption, vengeance, and closure all at once.
And that’s the problem.
Because in this business, emotion’s like a steel chair—it’s useful when you know when to swing it, but it’ll wreck your career if you don’t. Van Helsing’s walking into this one too hot, too personal, and too focused on revenge. Beast Fang? That animal doesn’t care about love stories or curses. He’s a walking weapon, trained by Vlad to hurt, not to feel.
This match has “main event energy” written all over it. HCW putting their second title on the line proves they’re betting big on their dominance, and I can’t say I blame ‘em. The Dark Dominion’s on a warpath, and right now, Beast Fang looks unstoppable.
Prediction: Beast Fang retains, but not clean. Expect interference, chaos, and maybe a new chapter in the Helsing/Vlad saga before this one’s over.
MATCH 3 — NPCW MAIN EVENT
(NPCW Night of Convergence — Night 1)
Santa Claus & The Alaskan Wildman Jax Brenner
vs.
Yeti & Partner TBA
This one’s got history, heartbreak, and a hell of a lotta frostbite.
Last time we saw Yeti in an NPCW ring, it was December 2025—fighting for the North Pole Title against Santa himself. He had it won, folks. The monster was seconds from glory before that conniving snake Grinch Heyman and Krampus pulled the rug out from under him. After that betrayal, Yeti packed up his rage, headed south, and joined Vlad’s Dark Dominion.
Now he’s coming back colder, meaner, and twice as dangerous. And this feud with Jax Brenner? I’ve said it before—it’s got Feud of the Year written all over it. Doppelgängers, family betrayals, psychological warfare—it’s wrestling Shakespeare wrapped in a blizzard.
But the million-dollar question is who’s Yeti’s partner?
Rumor mill’s running wild. The smart money’s on Sinister Klaus, given the holiday symmetry and their shared hatred for Santa. But don’t count out Frankenstein’s Monster, Big Bad Wolf, or even Marcus the Beast Master. Any one of those names changes the match from a grudge fight to a massacre.
Santa and Jax are as rugged a duo as you’ll find—the North Pole’s heart and the Alaskan wilderness’s fury—but against the Dark Dominion’s brand of cruelty, they’ll need more than spirit and survival skills. They’ll need a miracle.
Prediction: Depends on Yeti’s partner. If it’s Klaus or Wolf, Santa’s crew is in trouble. If it’s anyone else, it’s a toss-up. Either way, this one’s going to be a war.
FINAL THOUGHT:
Convergence isn’t just a crossover—it’s a declaration of war. HCW’s coming to prove they’re the tougher, realer brand. NPCW’s fighting to show that myth and magic still draw money and blood.
Next week, we’ll break down three more matches that’ll shape the fate of this inter-promotional powder keg.
Until then, remember—don’t believe the hype, don’t trust the booking, and never bet against momentum.
NO WORDS BARRED
Dave’s Takes on NPCW House Show from Summerside, PEI (October 23, 2025)
Summerside isn’t exactly the heart of Canadian wrestling country, but you’d never know it from the crowd that packed into the Credit Union Place this weekend. NPCW rolled into P.E.I. for House Show 031 and turned a quiet coastal town into a riotous storm of stomps, chants, and disbelief.
This wasn’t a show built on pyro or spectacle—it was a night built on grit. Every bout felt like a statement, every pop felt earned. And in true NPCW fashion, the main event didn’t just close the night—it rattled it.
When the lights hit the ring for the Mirror Saints versus Rapido Rojo and Peter Cottontail, Summerside got a glimpse of what happens when divinity, deceit, and desperate heart collide.
MATCH 1: Prancer vs. Sandman (Northern Lights Champion)
(Non-Title Match)
Referee: “Honest” Abe
The Hype:
The North Pole’s frosted fist, Sandman, strutted into Summerside with his Northern Lights Championship gleaming like a halo of intimidation—though this one wasn’t on the line. Across the ring, Prancer danced in like the Reindeer Coalition’s resident showboat, bouncing to the beat of his own entrance remix and sprinkling glitter on the crowd like he was handing out miracles. The chatter before the bell? Could the “holiday hotshot” actually make the champ look mortal, or was this another frozen burial under Sandman’s silent rage?
The Match:
The bell rang and Prancer came out with more flash than a holiday light parade, nailing Sandman early with back-to-back Prancer’s Prances (Flying Enziguiri) that nearly put the champ down in under two minutes. Sandman weathered the flurry, found his base, and fired back with fists like sleet storms—Spinning Fist Strike, Cradle Suplex, even teased the Go To Sleep. But every time he built momentum, Prancer found another gear: Reindeer One-Two, Face in the Mud, Reindeer Kick.
Around minute 8, it became a tug-of-war of stubborn pride—Sandman grinding out power offense, Prancer refusing to stay down, both trading near-falls like Christmas cookies. The crowd in Summerside was split—half chanting “Sleep! Sleep!” for the champ, the other chanting “Dance, Deer, Dance!”
By the 15th minute, both men were gassed, but Prancer’s legs still had a spring left. When Sandman wound up for one last Spinning Fist Strike, Prancer countered out of nowhere with a picture-perfect Flying Dropkick, right on the chin. 1...2...3. The house show exploded.
Prancer pins the Northern Lights Champion Sandman after 15 minutes of high-energy chaos.
Kent’s Take:
★★★★☆ (4/5)
Hell of an opener. Prancer looked like a caffeinated missile for most of it, while Sandman played the stoic wall of frost trying to withstand the storm. It’s rare to see Sandman pinned clean—even in a non-title match—but the upset works. It gives Prancer legitimacy heading into the holiday circuit and reminds everyone that the Northern Lights division isn’t an ice-locked kingdom.
Was it perfect? Nah. Prancer’s pacing was all over the place mid-match, and Sandman’s expression never changed once (is he human or an action figure?). But this was the kind of spirited curtain-jerker that makes a crowd wake up and say, “Okay, Summerside’s got a show tonight.”
Verdict: The Reindeer danced, the Sandman slipped, and PEI got a surprise stocking stuffer of a match.
MATCH 2: Goldie Locks vs. Gilda the Greedy
Referee: “Fast Count” Frank (+1)
The Hype:
This one had “bankruptcy battle” written all over it. Goldie Locks—NPCW’s golden gymnast with the millionaire mindset—squared off against Gilda the Greedy, who treats every match like a hostile corporate takeover. The Summerside crowd didn’t know whether to cheer or clutch their wallets. Add “Fast Count” Frank in the mix—whose stopwatch seems connected to a gambling app—and you had all the ingredients for a three-minute financial crash.
The Match:
Bell rings. Goldie explodes out of the gate like she’s chasing a tax refund. A Handspring Back Elbow Smash levels Gilda right off the bat, knocking the “Queen of Coin” loopy before she can even unzip her coin purse. Gilda tries to regroup, but Goldie’s on her like compound interest—lands a Running Dropkick flush, and the Summerside crowd actually gasps at the snap of impact.
By the third minute, Goldie goes full portfolio diversification—locks in the Twin City Twister Surfboard and yanks back like she’s cashing out early. Gilda thrashes, claws, pleads for a refund—but there’s nowhere to go. Before anyone can say “liquid assets,” she taps out.
Goldie Locks wins via submission in under 3 minutes with the Twin City Twister Surfboard.
Kent’s Take:
★★★☆☆ (3/5)
Fast, flashy, and decisive—just like Goldie’s investment strategy. Gilda didn’t even get a chance to file for bankruptcy protection before Goldie stretched her out like a stock market crash. Some might complain it was too short, but this was a statement squash: clean, tight, and brutally efficient.
Goldie looked crisp, confident, and every inch the “trust fund technician” NPCW’s women’s division has been missing since Vixen Vail left to shoot that cursed perfume commercial. If she keeps chaining holds like this, she’s a lock (pun intended) for title contention before year’s end.
Verdict: Gilda got humbled, the crowd popped, and Goldie’s gold standard keeps rising.
MATCH 3: Gods of War (Ares & Mars w/ Zeus) vs. Merry Band (Friar Tuck & Little John)
Referee: “Fast Count” Frank (+1)
The Hype:
It’s divine destruction versus pious persistence — the Gods of War strutted into Summerside like Mount Olympus’ hitmen, dragging thunder and ego behind them. Across the ring, The Merry Band — Friar Tuck and Little John — came in representing Nottingham’s finest fellowship, fueled by heart, teamwork, and just enough mead to forget who they were fighting.
With Zeus looming ringside, shouting orders like a drunk coach at a peewee football game, this looked like a celestial mismatch on paper. But here’s the thing about Tuck and John — they might pray before the match, but they swing like sinners once the bell rings.
The Match:
Tuck started fast, flattening Ares with a Cross Body Block that woke the gods up faster than a lightning bolt to the rear. Ares tried to answer with brute force, but the Friar’s slingshot offense kept him on his heels. Tag to Mars — the meaner half of the Olympian duo — but Little John tagged in and said, “Nah, not today, god-boy.”
John hit a Backbreaker that rattled the bleachers, and suddenly the mortals were running the show. Ares tagged back in, looking to restore order, landing a nasty Over Shoulder Backbreaker and a Short Arm Clothesline, but even Zeus’ sideline thunder couldn’t turn the tide.
Then came the double-teams — Little John and Friar Tuck went full medieval. Arm Drag Series, Cross Body Block, then again with a Backbreaker + Slingshot combo that had Mars staggering like he’d just lost a war council.
By the eighth minute, Mars was gassed and swinging blind. Little John wound up and landed an Axe Handle Drop that shook the ropes and flattened the god clean. Three-count. Crowd erupts. Olympus falls in Summerside.
Winners: The Merry Band (Little John pins Mars with the Axe Handle Drop)
Kent’s Take:
★★★★½ (4.5/5)
Now this is what I call storytelling — myth versus man, and man damn well won. The Merry Band worked tighter than a church choir on Easter morning. Their timing, their double-teams, the way they built momentum — textbook tag psychology. You can teach holds, but you can’t teach chemistry, and these two have it in spades.
Meanwhile, the Gods of War looked good in flashes — Ares’ power still pops — but Mars? He’s got the cardio of a statue. Once he got trapped in those double-teams, it was over. Zeus barking on the outside didn’t help either; if anything, it made them look like bickering brothers instead of immortals.
Bottom line: Friar Tuck and Little John just handed the gods their eviction notice from Mount NPCW. This match had pace, teamwork, and a story that paid off. If the Merry Band aren’t in the title hunt by the next special, someone backstage is asleep at the booking table.
Verdict: Thunder stolen. Gods grounded. Merry Band marching on.
MATCH 4: Maid Marion vs. Thimble Hex
Referee: “Honest” Abe (+0)
The Hype:
Maid Marion — Sherwood’s sweetheart with a snap kick like a church bell at dawn — versus Thimble Hex, the sinister seamstress whose idea of embroidery involves threading pain into her opponents’ joints.
Summerside crowd was hot for this one, mostly because Marion’s been on a quiet tear lately while Hex has been walking around acting like she hand-sewed destiny itself. Honest Abe refereeing meant no shortcuts, but with Hex, “honest” and “fair” are about as foreign as a clean mat.
The Match:
Hex opened with a heavy Senton that squashed Marion early, making it clear the rag doll wasn’t here to play. Marion tried to regain her footing with that gorgeous Kiss Goodnight Roundhouse Kick — a picture-perfect connection that echoed through the arena — but Hex absorbed it and tossed Marion overhead like she was tossing scraps into the bin.
Momentum swung like a pendulum — Hex hit suplexes and stomps, Marion fired back with heart and technique. The Arm-Trap Neckbreaker popped the crowd, but Hex’s durability was freakish. She countered Marion’s top-rope attempts and landed the Final Stitch (Michinoku Driver), nearly sewing up the win right there.
But Marion’s got that Sherwood spirit. She rebounded, landed a Diving Seated Senton, and refused to die. In the chaos of the tenth minute, Hex went for another pin off a Basement Crossbody, but Marion rolled her through, hooked the legs, and stole it with a Bulldog counter. Three-count, clean as a whistle.
Winner: Maid Marion (pins Thimble Hex with a Bulldog Reversal)
Kent’s Take:
★★★ (3/5)
I’ll give it to both of them — this was crisp, clever, and paced like a chess match with dropkicks. Hex wrestled like a bruiser possessed, mixing in power moves with her creepy precision offense. But once again, her arrogance cost her. She had the match wrapped up tighter than one of her cursed corsets, but couldn’t resist showboating.
Marion continues to be the unsung workhorse of NPCW’s women’s division. She’s consistent, clean, and connects with the crowd in a way that no dark magic can replicate. You can’t manufacture that — it’s charisma and craft.
Bottom line: Marion outsmarted the stitch-witch. Great storytelling, great resilience, and one hell of a reversal finish.
Verdict: The lady of Sherwood proves that sometimes heart beats hex.
MAIN EVENT - Mirror Saints (Sorin Savax & Vael Thorne w/ Elyra Moane) vs. Rapido Rojo & Peter Cottontail
Referee: “Honest” Abe (+0)
THE HYPE:
This was billed as a stylistic clash from the heavens—or maybe the underworld. On one side, the self-proclaimed “Reflections of Perfection,” Sorin Savax and Vael Thorne, with Elyra Moane pulling strings like a gothic maestro. On the other, two faces of pure charisma: Rapido Rojo, the NPCW speed demon, and Peter Cottontail, the hopping hope of the holiday division.
The Saints promised revelation. The heroes promised redemption. Summerside promised noise. All three delivered.
THE MATCH:
Peter Cottontail came out blazing, catching Sorin early with a Turnaround Sidekick that cracked louder than the first bell. The quick tag to Rapido Rojo kept the pace high—Headbutt Drop, Bulldog Lariat, Dropkick barrage—Rojo looked like a man trying to set a land-speed record in a wrestling ring.
Then Elyra Moane did what Elyra Moane does best: changed the story. A well-timed shove to “Honest” Abe distracted the ref long enough for the Saints to reset the board. Vael Thorne tagged in, and what followed was a masterclass in malicious symmetry. The Mirror Saints chained Bicycle Knees, Palm Strikes, Chokes, and Octopus Holds in eerie synchronization, turning Rapido into a mirror image of agony.
Rojo managed to fight back with a desperate NutCracker (Flying Fist Drop), but even momentum bends in the presence of the Saints. Vael and Sorin worked him down, minute by minute, until both sides crawled to tag.
Peter Cottontail flew in like a man reborn—Deep Armdrags for everyone—only to get caught mid-roll. Sorin flipped the momentum, rolled through, and snatched the pin in one seamless reversal.
1… 2… 3.
Nine minutes. Pure motion. Pure manipulation.
KENT’S TAKE:
★★★★☆ (4/5)
This one was a gem—tight, psychological, and laced with the kind of dark chemistry that makes NPCW’s tag division tick. Rojo and Cottontail brought the fight, no question. The crowd was rabid for them. But the Saints operate on another wavelength—fluid, hypnotic, and heartless.
That pin reversal was chef’s kiss—the kind of poetic finish that makes you mad and impressed in the same breath. Elyra’s interference? Subtle enough to avoid disqualification, blatant enough to boil blood. That’s how you build heat the right way.
The Mirror Saints don’t just wrestle; they convert.
FINAL WORD ON SUMMERSIDE FROM THE BRUTE:
Summerside proved once again that NPCW doesn’t need a pay-per-view stage to steal the month. The Mirror Saints walked out with another soul or two in their pocket, and Rapido Rojo & Peter Cottontail walked out to a standing ovation that said, “We still believe.”
NPCW House Show 031 was small-town wrestling with big-time bite—and if this is what the road to Convergence looks like, the rest of the roster better start saying their prayers.
THE FINAL WORD
By Dave “The Brute” Kent
Alright, let’s get something straight right out of the gate.
I’ve spent my whole damn life talking about wrestling — breaking it down, rating it, calling out the phonies and praising the professionals. I’ve seen legends rise, paper champions crumble, and “tough guys” wilt faster than a cheap tent in a hurricane. But this Sunday at Chill Factor, I’m doing something I swore I never would: I’m stepping into that ring myself.
Yeah, you heard me right — Dave “The Brute” Kent, the loudmouth with the pen and the platform, is lacing up the boots. I’m teaming with HCW’s masked enigma, Mr. X, against Brick Brody — NPCW’s resident slab of meat with a microphone — and his merry man Robin Hood.
Now, let’s not pretend I’m suddenly the second coming of Terry Funk here. I’m not a wrestler. Never claimed to be one. But after months of hearing Brick Brody flap his gums on commentary about being some kind of Outlaw Legend... well, my patience finally tagged out.
See, Brody loves to paint himself as this bar-fight bruiser, a beer-swilling, blood-spilling, no-rules cowboy who “ain’t afraid of no man.” But I’ve done my homework. I’ve watched the tapes. I’ve talked to the boys. And let me tell you, the so-called Outlaw Brick Brody was about as rough and tumble as a mall cop with shin splints.
When the spotlight was on, Brick looked the part — good jawline, gravelly voice, solid frame. But when it came time to deliver?
He was a half-step slow, a mile wide and an inch deep. The kind of guy who’d rather talk about his toughness than prove it between the ropes.
And the thing that really grinds my gears? He’s been running his mouth about me — calling me an armchair analyst, saying I “wouldn’t last a minute in his world.” Well, this Sunday, Brick, I’m not bringing a stopwatch. I’m bringing Mr. X, and that man’s world is a whole lot darker and nastier than yours ever was.
You see, I’ve got a surprise lined up for ol’ Brody.
No spoilers — this ain’t Reddit, it’s The Brutal Truth. But let’s just say when that bell rings in Summerside, the self-proclaimed “Outlaw” is gonna find out that not every fight can be won with a sound bite and a sneer. Some of us fight with facts. Some of us fight with fists. And on Sunday?
I plan on using both.
So tune in to Chill Factor, folks. Because for the first time ever, the critic’s stepping off the page and into the ring — and by the end of the night, Brick Brody’s gonna wish he’d stuck to commentary.
This ain’t just a match.
It’s a reckoning.
And when the dust settles, the only Brute Truth left standing… will be me.
– DAVE “THE BRUTE” KENT
“Brick’s about to learn that talk is cheap, and I charge interest.”
Tell ‘em Dave
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