Aired - October 12, 2025
SHOW OPENING MONTAGE
🎵 Music: Industrial-metal theme with a pounding cold rhythm. The cracked ice bell remains, but now layered with a low male choir chant, like a ritual tone.
NARRATOR (Alton Bell, rich Welsh accent, smooth but sinister):
“In the frozen North… where mercy perishes… only the strongest endure. Welcome… to a brand-new era of Chill Factor.”
🌨️ [Static blast → Logo burn-in: CHILL FACTOR]
🎬 Montage Kicks In – synchronized to pounding riffs
Highlight Reels (Main Six)
- Rudolph vs. Kong
Rudolph’s glowing nose cuts through the haze as he charges. Kong meets him mid-air with a brutal backhand that rattles the ring.
[SFX: Impact crunch → ice cracking] - Sandman vs. Sinbad
Sandman coils Sinbad into the Icy Slumber Sleeper Hold, the arena lights dimming as Sinbad struggles and collapses.
[SFX: Deep exhale fading into silence] - Frankenstein’s Monster Mark II Debut vs. Prancer
The stitched behemoth steps over the ropes like a living weapon. Prancer leaps — only to be snatched mid-air and driven through the canvas.
[SFX: Heavy slam + crowd gasp] - Negropolis vs. Beast 1
The arena flickers into shadow as Negropolis consumes the ring in swirling void. Beast 1 claws forward, but is engulfed into darkness.
[SFX: Digital distortion + echoing scream] - Abaddon vs. Sinbad
Abaddon hoists Sinbad crucifix-style before obliterating him into the mat with a demonic slam, sparks raining from overhead lights.
[SFX: Metal screech + guttural roar] - Sinister Klaus vs. Friar Tuck
Klaus swings his chain like a guillotine, narrowly missing Tuck — who counters with a thunderous cross-body avalanche splash that shakes the posts.
[SFX: Chain whip + wood snapping]
Superstar Flashes (Quick Cuts – lightning-fast)
- Santa Claus standing bloodied but unbroken.
- Mean Jack Mason drilling someone with the Northern Lights Driver.
- Kris Kringle smashing a candy cane over an opponent’s back.
- The Beasts pounding their chests in unison as snow bursts up.
- Big Bad Wolf snarling into the camera, breath steaming in the cold.
- Van Helsing raising his silver stake toward the screen.
Transition: The Broadcast Team
Music dips to a steady pulse.
📺 Hammer Washington & Brick Brody at the announce deck, frost mist clinging to their monitors. Their voices bleeding into the track:
HAMMER: “This is the proving ground, baby — freeze or fall!”
BRODY: “Every match tonight will cut to the bone!”
Final Shot
The music falls to a dark hum.
💀 Dave “The Brute” Kent sits alone in his dim bunker studio. One swinging bulb, static crawling across the feed. His eyes lock on the viewer.
NARRATOR (Alton Bell, Welsh accent, almost whispering):
“In this new era… the cold does not kill. It crowns… and it condemns.”
❄️ Logo Slam:
CHILL FACTOR
“The Brand-New Era Has Begun.”
CROWD AND WELCOMING
The camera cuts backstage immediately after the opening montage. The atmosphere is heavy. The Misfits of Mayhem’s dressing room is draped in black velvet curtains and flickering lanterns, their usual chaos silenced into a ceremonial hush. At the center, seated like a monarch upon a chair of obsidian-stained wood, is Negropolis, his mask reflecting the dim light, eyes sharp and commanding.
Before him stand the two silent shadows known only as the Disciples of Negropolis. Both are clad in full black body suits with masks: smooth white faces that reveal nothing but their eyes. The larger, broad-shouldered one—Disciple 1—steps forward, chest heaving, his presence a wall of power. The slimmer, wirier Disciple 2 lingers in the back, still and patient, like a drawn bow waiting for release.
Behind the throne of Negropolis stands Father MacDougal, the wild-eyed prophet, his weathered pilot’s goggles resting on his forehead. His voice is a rasp of thunder and scripture. Perched beside his leg, flapping its fins and squeaking supportively, is Flippers, the team’s eccentric mascot and emotional tether.
Negropolis (low, deliberate, voice carrying the weight of inevitability): Last night… the North Pole Champion revealed his cowardice cloaked in bravado. Mean Jack Mason, once our brother in chaos, now our betrayer in conquest, dared to throw down the gauntlet at the feet of the Covenant. He seeks trial by combat, and the world will bear witness.
Disciple 1 steps forward, puffing his chest, arms crossed. His silence is louder than words, a grunt rumbling from his throat as if to say, “I am ready.” The camera closes in on the emotionless white mask.
Negropolis (raising a gloved hand calmly toward Disciple 1): Your loyalty is unquestioned, brother. Your strength undeniable. But tonight… it is not the hammer that must fall. Tonight it is the dagger.
Disciple 1 bows his head slightly, grunting in understanding, before stepping back into line. His submission feels ritualistic, solemn.
Negropolis now turns his gaze toward Disciple 2, who takes a single step forward. His shoulders straighten, his eyes burn beneath the mask. Silent, but his resolve vibrates like a coiled spring.
Negropolis: Disciple Two… you shall walk into the storm. You shall carry the weight of the Covenant upon your shoulders. And when the final bell tolls, Mason will kneel in acknowledgment of a truth he cannot escape— That the Covenant cannot be undone.
Father MacDougal (stepping forward, voice rising, hands clutching at the air like he’s plucking visions from it): Aye! The winds scream it! The storm skies tear themselves apart with the name of the Disciple! And the oceans cry doom! Jack Mason sees only the glitter of his false crown, but he cannot see the abyss yawning beneath his boots!
MacDougal points toward Disciple 2, his accent thick, his eyes burning like fire in a cave.
Father MacDougal: Tonight, the dagger cuts the bull down! Tonight, prophecy is fulfilled! The Bringer of Ends has spoken, and the Disciples shall leave their mark upon the flesh of the Champion!
Negropolis stands, placing a hand upon Disciple 2’s shoulder with calm finality. Flippers squeaks, flapping wildly as though in applause. The camera lingers on the mask of Disciple 2, the reflection of the lantern flames dancing across his white visage.
Negropolis (quietly, with an edge): Go forth. Make the Champion bleed belief from his body.
The Covenant bows their heads together as the camera slowly fades to black, the sound of Flippers’ squeaks eerily echoing like the beat of a war drum.
The camera fades from the eerie darkness of the Covenant’s locker room back into the roaring Scotiabank Centre crowd. The spotlight falls on the announce desk, where Hammer Washington sits upright in his crisp blazer, radiating that classic, grounded authority, while beside him, Brick Brody leans back in his chair, half-smirk on his rugged face, chewing gum like he’s about to spit it on the floor.
Hammer Washington: Fans, welcome once again to Chill Factor—Episode Nine, live right here in Halifax, Nova Scotia! We’ve got ourselves one heck of a night lined up, and let me tell ya, last night’s Polar Power left shockwaves that we’re still feeling tonight.
Brick Brody (snorts, leaning into the mic): Shockwaves? Hammer, last night was a downright earthquake. The Primal Horde—Mason’s mighty monsters—took a big fat loss when the Beasts dropped the tag straps to Huck Finn and Tom Sawyer. Two kids with a raft just paddled over a couple of war machines! You tell me that ain’t embarrassing.
Hammer Washington (calm but firm): Well Brick, I’ll tell ya this—it’s a new day in NPCW, and those young challengers took the fight straight to the champions. That’s the kind of action that defines this sport! But you’re right about one thing: the Primal Horde is reeling, and you can bet your bottom dollar that Mean Jack Mason is looking to make a statement tonight when he steps into the ring against Disciple of Negropolis Two in a non-title contest.
Brick Brody (gruff chuckle): “Statement”? Mason doesn’t make statements, Hammer, he makes victims. That Disciple better hope his insurance covers dental, ‘cause when Jack gets done with him, he’s gonna be eating mashed potatoes through a straw.
Hammer Washington: And that’s not all—tonight we’re also gonna see Marcus the Beastmaster step into the ring against a man near and dear to the fans here at NPCW, the former North Pole Champion himself, Rudolph!
Brick Brody (mocking tone): Oh yeah, the red-nosed wonder boy. That guy’s been prancing around like he’s the savior of Christmas, but I remember the good ol’ days—guys didn’t need a shiny nose to get cheered. Rudolph’s got guts, I’ll give him that, but Marcus is mean as a bear with a hangover. He’ll chew that deer up and use the antlers as a coat rack.
Hammer Washington (ignoring Brick’s jab): Speaking of big men, after months of speculation and negotiations—it’s finally happening tonight. The Frost Giants are making their debut! These monstrous men have signed exclusive contracts with Chill Factor, and folks, this could change the landscape of our tag team division forever.
Brick Brody (slamming his fist on the desk, excited growl): Now that’s what I’m talking about! Finally—some real heavy hitters. You bring in monsters the size of glaciers, Hammer, and you ain’t talking about bedtime stories anymore. You’re talking about bar fights that break buildings. And I love that Bell locked ‘em down just for this show. That’s a coup, baby! Forget your flippy-dos, these boys are gonna smash skulls.
Hammer Washington: But the big one tonight—the one everybody’s talking about—is our main event. The Universal Championship is on the line as Sinister Klaus defends against Lion of the Wizard’s Warriors. It was just last week on Polar Power when Lion shocked the world and pinned Klaus in a non-title bout to earn this opportunity.
Brick Brody (leaning forward, smirking, gravel in his tone): Hammer, lemme break it down for ya: Jack Mason’s been runnin’ around tellin’ everybody that his North Pole Title is the real top belt in NPCW. And ya know what? He’s got a point! The guy’s out there fightin’ everyone, provin’ it night after night. Meanwhile Klaus is sittin’ on that Universal strap like it’s Santa’s throne. Tonight ain’t just about beatin’ Lion—it’s about showin’ the whole world that Klaus is still the big bad Claus in town. If he don’t dominate, Mason’s gonna keep laughin’ all the way to the bank.
Hammer Washington: That’s certainly one way to put it, Brick. Folks, this is going to be one wild night—titles, debuts, and grudges exploding right here on Chill Factor!
Brick Brody (leaning back with a grin, pointing at the camera): And don’t think I’m done yet, Hammer. After the break, I’m marchin’ myself straight into The Bunker to sit down with that pencil-neck Dave “The Brute” Kent. He thinks he’s the smartest guy in the room? Well tonight, I’m gonna shut him up. He’s gonna learn why you don’t poke a brawler who’s still got gas in the tank.
Hammer Washington (trying to reel it back in): Fans, don’t you dare go anywhere—we’ve got The Bunker, huge matches, and one explosive main event still to come tonight. Stay tuned!
The crowd roars as the broadcast cuts to commercial, Brick still muttering under his breath about how he’s going to “knock some sense into Kent” when he gets the chance.
THIS WEEK’S RUNDOWN[After the opening montage ends graphics detailing the matches airing tonight begin to display with KC Rogers voicing over the details …] | |||
| 1 | The Frost Giants | VS | North Pole Express Mickey Mistletoe and Gary Garland |
| 2 | Rudolph | VS | Marcus The Beastmaster |
| 3 | Mean Jack Mason | VS | Disciple of Negropolis 2 |
| 4 | Hansel and Sinbad | VS | The Polar Bears |
| 5 | Frankenstein’s Monster | VS | Van Helsing |
| Main Event | Sinister Klaus | VS | Lion |
PLUS INTERVIEWS WITH | ||
| Frost Giants | Mean Jack Mason | Van Helsing |
| TONIGHT’S TEAM | |
| Hammer Washington | Dave “The Brute” Kent |
| Louie Linville RING ANNOUNCER | Slick Ricky Vega INTERVIEWER |
THE BUNKER
Inside a stark, metal-trimmed studio lined with frosted pipes and glowing monitors, DAVE “THE BRUTE” KENT sits behind a heavy wooden desk. The place looks like it was built in his basement—cinder block walls, cold light reflecting off steel trim. A vintage NPCW microphone sits in front of him like a weapon. His black lucha-style mask with silver outlines hides his face, but his eyes and words cut sharper than any blade.
Off to the side, half-hidden behind a camera monitor, stands J.R. HOLLAND—the calm, composed host of HCW After Dark. She’s observing, headset on, clearly uncomfortable with how tense the room has become.
ANNOUNCER (V.O.):
“Welcome to the most dangerous mic in professional wrestling—this is THE BRUTE’S BUNKER, with your host… DAVE ‘THE BRUTE’ KENT!”
[Camera pans in on Kent, thick-shouldered and unflinching behind his desk. Across from him sits BRICK BRODY — a grizzled former brawler, denim vest open, shades on, and smirk loaded.]
DAVE “THE BRUTE” KENT:
“Well, well, well… look what stumbled into my bunker. The man who replaced me on commentary, the so-called voice of Chill Factor, the man with a million stories and zero fresh ideas—Brick Brody.”
[Scattered crowd reaction; Brody cracks his neck and leans forward, smirking.]
BRICK BRODY:
“You know, Brute, I gotta hand it to ya—you’ve got guts invitin’ me down here. I thought this was where you hid from daylight, yellin’ about ‘work rate’ while orderin’ another pizza. Real nice setup. Real ‘I live alone with my opinions’ vibe.”
DAVE KENT (snapping back):
“Oh, don’t worry, this bunker’s got plenty of room for washed-up fossils like you, Brick. I wear this mask to focus on truth. You wear those sunglasses to hide the fact you can’t look in a mirror without seein’ your career limpin’ away.”
BRICK BRODY (grinning):
“Truth? That’s rich comin’ from a guy who hides his face ‘cause he’s scared the fans’ll recognize him as the guy who never laced a boot! You’re an armchair analyst, Brute. You talk tough, but you couldn’t fight your way out of a buffet line!”
DAVE KENT:
“Maybe not, but at least I don’t live in the past like a ghost that doesn’t know he’s dead. You keep talkin’ about the ‘good ol’ days,’ but the only thing old-school about you now, Brick, is your medical chart!”
[Crowd laughs. Brody stands abruptly, pulling off his sunglasses and slamming them onto the desk.]
BRICK BRODY (growling):
“You think you’re funny, huh? You wanna sit there and run your mouth, callin’ me washed up? Tell ya what—two weeks. Chill Factor Ten. You and whoever you can beg to team with you… against me and my guy. You’ve got the mic—let’s see if you’ve got the guts.”
[The crowd roars through the monitor feed. Kent rises, slow and deliberate, leaning across the desk. His masked face and Brody’s scarred one are inches apart.]
DAVE KENT:
“You’re on, Brody. Two weeks, Chill Factor Ten. The Brute’s steppin’ out of the bunker—and when I’m done, you’ll wish you stayed behind the announce table instead of provin’ just how far you’ve fallen.”
BRICK BRODY (snarling, almost laughing):
“Hope that mask’s thick enough to soak up the blood, big man. I’m gonna make you feel what real wrestling pain is.”
[The two stand nose-to-nose as studio crew scramble. Off-camera, J.R. Holland’s voice breaks in—measured, steady.]
J.R. HOLLAND (off-screen, trying to defuse):
“Alright, gentlemen, that’s enough! We’re live, remember? Let’s not turn The Bunker into an infirmary, okay?”
[Neither man moves. Brody finally smirks and backs up, fixing his vest.]
BRICK BRODY (to camera):
“Two weeks, Kent. Bring your partner—if you can find anyone dumb enough to stand next to ya.”
[He storms off, knocking over a metal chair on his way out. The feed stays live for a few more seconds as Kent stares into the lens, breathing hard behind the mask.]
DAVE KENT (gritting his teeth):
“You just signed your own obituary, Brody. And The Brute writes in permanent ink.”
ANNOUNCER (V.O.):
“Two weeks. Chill Factor Ten. The Brute and his mystery partner versus Brick Brody and his chosen bruiser! The past collides with the present—and someone’s leavin’ broken!”
[Red “LIVE” light goes dark. The bunker feels even colder now, just the hum of the pipes and the echo of Brody’s boots fading down the hallway.]
J.R. HOLLAND (walking into frame, arms crossed, soft but firm):
“Dave… what the hell was that? You just accepted a match. Against Brick Brody. He’s unstable. He’s dangerous. You’re not—”
DAVE KENT (cutting her off with a dismissive wave):
“Relax, JR. I’ve got this all figured out. I’ll call in a favor. Maybe someone from HCW… Jack Lumber, maybe. Big guy, lotta heart. I’ll ask him to back me up.”
[He turns to her, confident grin under the mask.]
DAVE KENT:
“They’ll say yes… right?”
[J.R. just stares at him, unimpressed. Then rolls her eyes, shaking her head slightly.]
J.R. HOLLAND:
“Sure, Dave. Whatever helps you sleep tonight.”
[She turns to leave. Kent watches her go, tapping his fingers on the desk, muttering under his breath.]
DAVE KENT (low, half to himself):
“They’ll say yes... they always do.”
[The camera fades out on Kent standing alone in his bunker, the vintage mic still glowing faintly on the desk.]
TAGLINE:
🧊 “THE BUNKER EXPLODES — CHILL FACTOR X — OCTOBER 26TH” 🧊
MATCH 1 INTROS AND ENTRANCES | |
| Intro by Louie Linville | Intro by Louie Linville |
| “Ladies and gentlemen… prepare yourselves for a storm of ice and fury! Hailing from the frozen wastelands of Northern Scandinavia… at a combined weight of over six hundred and fifty pounds… they are the towering titans of destruction… THE FROST GIANTS!” | “Ladies and gentlemen… making their way to the ring, at a combined weight of four-hundred and eighty-eight pounds… the holiday dreamers, the smiling underdogs, this is the NORTH POLE EXPRESS!” |
| Entrance | Entrance |
| The arena plunges into darkness as the sound of howling arctic winds fills the speakers. Heavy, booming war drums blend with icy, symphonic metal as white-and-blue spotlights cut through artificial snow flurries that fall from the rafters. The Frost Giants emerge slowly, towering figures draped in frost-crusted furs and glacial armor. They stomp methodically to the ring, glaring at the crowd with glowing cold stares, showing no emotion, feeding on the crowd’s fear and boos. | Upbeat jingle-bell rock blares as Gary Garland and Mickey Mistletoe burst out from the curtain, grinning ear to ear. They slap every hand they can reach, nearly tripping over each other as they hustle down the ramp. Their mismatched, almost homemade-looking gear only adds to their charm as they wave and point like they’ve just won a championship before they even hit the ring. |
Hammer Washington: “Fans, welcome back to Chill Factor! We’re kicking things off tonight with a big debut—literally. The Frost Giants have finally arrived here in NPCW, and Brick, they are every bit as massive and intimidating in person as those negotiations hinted at.”
Brick Brody: “Intimidating? Hammer, these boys aren’t intimidating—they’re terrifying! Look at the size of ‘em! Each one looks like he just walked out of a Viking raid and straight into the ring. And poor Gary Garland? He’s about to get squashed flatter than an empty beer can under my boot.”
Hammer: “Well Gary Garland starting it off for the Express, and he’s gotta use his speed—oh! Tried for a kneelift, but Frost Giant 1 just shrugged it off and nailed him with that leg drop! That’s a lot of weight crashing down!”
Brick: “Kid’s ribs are rattling like loose change, Hammer. And now the tag—look at the way they cycle in and out. That’s old-school brutality, I love it!”
The action rolls as Frost Giant 2 plants Garland with a backbreaker, only for Garland to fire back with an armdrag, showing fight.
Hammer: “Garland showing some fight there, that’s what the Express are all about—quick tags, high energy, trying to chop the big men down—Atomic Drop! He got Frost Giant 1 reeling!”
Brick: “Reeling? Please! That’s like poking a bear with a stick, Hammer. He’s still standing, and standing taller than ever. These Giants are built for punishment. Garland just woke him up.”
The match escalates, with Frost Giant 2 drilling Garland with a Cobra Clutch Slam, only for Mickey Mistletoe to rush in for double-team help.
Hammer: “Now all four men in the ring—Express trying to chop down the Giants—corner chops from Mistletoe—”
Brick: “Yeah, real tough, slapping a guy’s chest. And the Giants answer back—Backbreaker, Power Bomb, just throwing ‘em around like rag dolls! This is a mugging, Hammer.”
The Giants continue to dominate. Garland keeps fighting back, but every rally is cut short. Finally, Frost Giant 2 unloads with a flurry of forearms that knock Garland silly.
Hammer: “Oh my goodness, a relentless barrage of forearms from Frost Giant 2! Garland is defenseless—referee Honest Abe checking—there’s the cover! One, two, three, and it’s over!”
Brick: “Hammer, that wasn’t a match, that was a mauling! The North Pole Express just got introduced to Frost Country, and let me tell you, it’s a cold, miserable place to be. These Giants are gonna terrorize every tag team in NPCW from this day forward.”
FROST GIANTS DEFEAT NORTH POLE EXPRESS VIA PINFALL (CONTINUOUS FOREARMS) AT THE 13-MINUTE MARK.
FROST GIANTS
The bell has rung, the North Pole Express have rolled out licking their wounds, and the crowd is buzzing about the monstrous debut. “Honest” Abe raises the hands of the Frost Giants—HrÃmr the Endless and Ymirsson the Frostborne—as snow-like pyrotechnics trickle from the rafters. Into the ring slides none other than NPCW’s rhinestone-soaked interviewer, Slick Ricky Vega, his wide tie flapping like it’s in a wind machine, mic in hand, sweat glistening under the lights.
Slick Ricky Vega (grinning, pointing at them): “Ladies and gentlemen, dudes and divas, give it up for the colossal conquerors, the icy assassins, the Rock-and-Roll Ragnarok themselves—the Frost! Giants! Yeeeahhh!”
The crowd gives a mix of cheers and awe at the massive newcomers. HrÃmr stands stoic with frost-white eyes piercing the camera, while Ymirsson cracks his knuckles like he’s crushing ice boulders.
Vega: “HrÃmr the Endless, Ymirsson the Frostborne—you two just turned the North Pole Express into the North Pole wrecks-press, baby. The whole world wants to know—what’s your mission here in NPCW?”
HrÃmr steps up, his voice a cold, low growl:
HrÃmr the Endless: “The mission is simple. To break every team that stands before us. To take this tag division—this soft, fragile snow globe—and smash it against the rocks of Jötunheim. Tonight was only the first crack.”
Ymirsson grabs the mic, speaking more thunderous, a booming voice like an avalanche:
Ymirsson the Frostborne: “The tag division looks… underwhelming. Weak men parading as champions. Pretenders who crumble when real power stands across from them. But now the frost has come. Now it will be elevated—by blood, by bone, and by ice. The North remembers… and the Giants dominate.”
The crowd oohs, a mix of fear and admiration. Vega nods, running a hand through his sweat-slicked hair.
Vega (smirking): “Oh, baby, that’s colder than the back of a walk-in freezer at a midnight kegger, yeah! But tell me this, frosty fellas—word on the street is you didn’t just walk in on your own dime. Someone cut the deal. Someone wrote the check. And that name is Alton Bell.”
HrÃmr nods slowly, leaning into the mic with that glacial stare:
HrÃmr: “Alton Bell… made this possible. He knew what NPCW needed. He knew the tag scene was starving. And he brought us here to feed.”
Ymirsson (snarling): “We are here to repay that trust—with domination.”
The two Giants raise their massive arms, fists clenched like hammers, while the camera tilts up to capture their immense stature. Snow-like pyro hits again as Vega wraps it up with a flourish:
Vega: “Ladies and gents, you heard it here first—the Frost Giants aren’t just here to play the game… they’re here to break it. Get ready, tag division—because the storm is here to stay! Back to you, Hammer and Brody!”
The camera cuts from the Frost Giants’ towering pose back to the announce desk. Hammer Washington adjusts his glasses with a big grin while Brick Brody leans back in his chair, arms crossed, chewing on a toothpick like he’s not impressed.
Hammer Washington (bright, smooth tone): “Fans, what a debut for the Frost Giants—HrÃmr the Endless and Ymirsson the Frostborne—absolutely flattening the North Pole Express and making a statement in their first outing here on Chill Factor! That’s two of the biggest men we’ve ever seen in an NPCW ring, and they’ve got their sights set squarely on the tag team division!”
Brick Brody (snorting, leaning into the mic): “Yeah, yeah, Hammer. Look, I’ll give ‘em credit—they’re big, they’re mean, and they hit hard. But let’s pump the brakes before we start building snow castles for these two. I’ve seen monsters come and go. I’ve brawled with guys twice my size in barrooms where the lights didn’t even work. And lemme tell ya—size doesn’t make you unstoppable. It just makes you a bigger target.”
Hammer (slightly chuckling): “Well Brick, they certainly didn’t look like targets tonight. That was dominance.”
Brick (gruff laugh): “Dominance against the North Pole Express? Please. That’s like me braggin’ I won a fistfight against a mall Santa and his helper. Doesn’t prove much. But—I’ll say this—if Alton Bell really got these guys locked down exclusive to Chill Factor, then maybe, just maybe, the tag division’s about to see what real punishment looks like. And Hammer, you know me—I like punishment.”
Hammer (smiling): “Well, whether you like it or not, the Frost Giants have arrived, and folks, something tells me the entire tag team scene is about to feel the chill!”
MATCH 2 INTROS AND ENTRANCES | |
| Intro by Louie Linville | Intro by Louie Linville |
| “Ladies and gentlemen… accompanied to the ring by Polly Mason… standing six feet five inches tall and weighing in at a colossal three-hundred and ten pounds… the enforcer of the Primal Horde… he is the unyielding handler of beasts… MARCUS… THE BEASTMASTER!” | “Ladies and gentlemen… he lit the way through the storm, and now he leads this entire federation! From the North Pole… RUUUDOLPH… THE RED-NOSED… REINDEER!!” |
| Entrance | Entrance |
| The arena lights dim to a deep crimson glow as a slow, pounding tribal drumbeat mixed with heavy industrial bass shakes the speakers. A spotlight cuts through the haze, revealing Marcus standing on the stage, motionless, a massive steel chain draped across his shoulders. At his side, Polly Mason stalks forward with wild-eyed energy, taunting the crowd and reveling in the chaos. Marcus never acknowledges the fans’ boos, his cold, deliberate march to the ring exuding pure menace while Polly fuels the hate with manic gestures. | The arena erupts in cheers as the stage explodes in red and white pyro. Uplifting rock-pop music with sleigh bell undertones kicks in as a red spotlight scans the crowd—then locks on RUDOLPH, bursting through the curtain with unshakable energy and a confident grin. His glowing red nose pulses with the beat as he slaps hands, points to the NPCW North Pole Championship around his waist, and rushes the ring with the speed of a sled on Christmas Eve. |
Hammer Washington (play-by-play, excited): “Fans, we’re back and it’s a big one here on Chill Factor—Marcus the Beastmaster, one of the monsters of the Primal Horde, with Polly Mason at ringside, going one-on-one against Rudolph! The former North Pole Champion, looking to get back in the win column after losing the gold at Wrestlefest to Mean Jack Mason!”
Brick Brody (color, leaning in gruff): “Yeah, Hammer, and lemme tell ya—losin’ that belt took the shine right off Rudolph’s red nose. He went from leader of the pack to just another deer caught in the headlights. And tonight? He’s got Marcus the Beastmaster—one of the nastiest, meanest men in the Horde—lookin’ to tear his antlers clean off.”
[Bell rings, match begins]
Hammer: “Here we go—and look at Rudolph, charging in with those fists flying! Double punch connects! But Marcus fires back with a headbutt that staggers Rudolph!”
Brick (laughing): “See that? That’s what I’m talkin’ about! Marcus doesn’t need fancy lights on his nose, Hammer. He’s got a skull like a cinderblock and he just rammed it right between Rudolph’s eyes!”
Hammer: “Rudolph comes back though, driving the head into the gut! Marcus folds over and Rudolph—beautiful flying dropkick sends the Beastmaster down!”
Brick (snorting): “Yeah, yeah, that was cute. But I’ve seen Rudolph try to play high-flyer before. You know what happens? He crashes and burns. He better keep his hooves on the ground if he wants to survive this one.”
Hammer: “Cross body block! Cover—no, Marcus shoves him off with power to spare! Rudolph’s staying aggressive, though—look at that, the Guiding Light body press! He’s throwing everything at him!”
Brick: “He’d better, Hammer. ‘Cause Marcus is tougher than week-old beef jerky. You think one reindeer splash is gonna put down a man who wrangles monsters for breakfast? Forget about it!”
Hammer: “Marcus now—there’s the bearhug! He’s trying to squeeze the air out of Rudolph!”
Brick (smirking): “And I love it! Old school. You don’t need five flips and a dance routine—just grab a guy, squeeze him like a tube of toothpaste, and watch him wilt!”
Hammer: “Rudolph fights free! Head ram to the gut again—but Marcus cuts him off! Primal Bomb! He just planted Rudolph!”
Brick: “That’s it! Drop him on the back of his neck, fold him up like a bad Christmas sweater!”
Hammer (urgent): “Cover—one, two—Rudolph kicks out! Somehow, some way, Rudolph is still alive in this matchup!”
Brick (mocking): “Alive, but limpin’. He’s on borrowed time, Hammer. Polly’s already singin’ his funeral march over there.”
Hammer: “Marcus doesn’t let up—shoulderbreaker! Another Primal Bomb! He’s got him hooked—drives him down again! This could be it!”
Brick (slapping the desk): “Lights out for Rudolph! Stick a fork in him, Hammer—Christmas is canceled!”
Hammer: “Cover—one, two, three! Marcus the Beastmaster pins Rudolph in the middle of the ring!”
MARCUS THE BEASTMASTER DEFEATS RUDOLPH VIA PINFALL AT THE 13-MINUTE MARK.
MATCH 3 INTROS AND ENTRANCES | |
| Intro by Louie Linville | Intro by Louie Linville |
| “Ladies and gentlemen… accompanied to the ring by his deranged sister Polly… representing the shattered psyche of a once-beloved soul…He is the harbinger of havoc… the cruel conscience uncaged…This… is MEEEEAAAN JAAAACK!!” | “From the depths of chaos itself… weighing in at 175 pounds… the wild spirit of Negropolis… DISCIPLE OF NEGROPOLIS… NUMBER TWO!” |
| Entrance | Entrance |
| The lights dim. A distorted lullaby plays at low volume before being shattered by a grinding, guttural guitar riff — a twisted industrial-metal remix of a child's music box. Smoke billows at the entrance as a flickering spotlight follows Polly, skipping in a ragged, tattered dress, dragging a headless doll behind her. From behind her emerges Mean Jack, slow-walking with cold, deliberate menace, wearing a cracked grin and spitting at the fans.He ignores the crowd’s jeers, jawing at anyone who dares make eye contact. Occasionally he stops, stares blankly into space, then breaks into a cruel smirk — like he’s enjoying a joke only he and Polly understand. When they reach the ring, Polly sits cross-legged on the apron, humming eerily, while Jack climbs in and paces like a caged animal. | The lights flicker chaotically as a frenzied industrial beat mixed with carnival tones blares through the speakers. Disciple 2 bursts through the curtain with manic energy, flipping and cartwheeling his way down the aisle. He taunts fans with erratic gestures, leaping onto the barricade to scream into the crowd before springboarding into the ring. His movements are unpredictable, wild, and unnerving. |
Hammer Washington: Folks, here we go — Mean Jack Mason, the reigning North Pole Champion, stepping into the ring with Disciple Number Two of the Obsidian Covenant. It’s non-title, but don’t let that fool ya — this one’s about pride and power!
Brick Brody (gruff chuckle): Pride? Nah, Hammer, this one’s about pain. Mason ain’t here to shake hands or prove anything scientific. He’s here to rearrange faces. And if this Disciple don’t get with the program quick, he’s gonna leave lookin’ like he lost a bar fight behind a truck stop.
Hammer: Oh my! Mason starts right out with that Family Jewels Therapy — a blatant low blow!
Brick (laughing): Now that’s how you set the tone, Hammer! Forget your fancy lock-ups — go straight for the crown jewels! That’s ring psychology in the real world, brother.
Hammer: And there’s that Personality Disorder Stunner! The Disciple’s rattled but MacDougal’s hollering orders, and Flippers the Penguin’s up on the apron distracting Abe!
Brick: See, Hammer, that’s teamwork. The Covenant ain’t choir boys, but neither is Mason. I like it — this is a slugfest, the way wrestling oughta be.
Hammer: Mason’s just pounding away now, a Therapy Session! And Polly’s up singing and dancing, trying to throw the Disciple off balance!
Brick (snorting): Hey, if I had Polly in my corner back in the day, I’d still be wrestling — or dead. Probably both.
Hammer: And here comes MacDougal again, pointing out weaknesses, and the Disciple’s landing heavy shots! Mason looks rocked for the first time!
Brick: Good! Knock the smug out of him. But don’t blink, Hammer, Mason’s a rattlesnake — the second you think you’ve got him, he bites.
Hammer: There it is — The Relapse Piledriver! And now a Shut-In Slam Spinebuster! Mason’s got the Disciple gasping for air!
Brick (grinning): That’s the champ right there. People boo him, call him mean, but when he plants ya, you stay planted.
Hammer: Wait a second! Polly tries the glitter trick — and the Disciple reverses it! Sister Abigail! Sister Abigail! Mason might be down!
Brick (slamming the desk): That’s how ya do it, kid! Swing for the fences! Drop the champ on his head, I love it!
Hammer: Both men throwing everything they’ve got! Disciple hits that Inverted DDT — but Mason locks in the sleeper! Mason’s got it cinched!
Brick: He’s squeezing the life outta him, Hammer. That’s not a hold, that’s a python in human form!
Hammer: Disciple’s fighting… he’s fading… he’s outta there! He’s tapping! He’s tapping!
Brick: Hah! See? Told ya. You don’t survive long with Jack Mason around your throat. Champ doesn’t just beat ya — he breaks your will.
Hammer: Folks, like it or not, Mean Jack Mason has forced a submission out of Disciple Number Two, but you can bet the Obsidian Covenant won’t forget this!
MEAN JACK MASON DEFEATS DISCIPLE OF NEGROPOLIS 2 VIA SUBMISSION WITH A SLEEPERHOLD AT THE 11-MINUTE MARK.
MEAN JACK MASON’S WARNING
Hammer Washington: Well, folks, Mean Jack Mason has forced a submission victory here tonight, but it looks like this thing ain’t over — Mason’s motioning for Polly to get in the ring, and here come The Beasts with Marcus the Beastmaster marching down to ringside. This Primal Horde is packin’ the ring like it’s their own jungle!
Brick Brody (grinning): And it is their jungle, Hammer! When the Primal Horde rolls in, it’s survival of the meanest, and Jack Mason is at the top of the food chain. Look at that swagger — man’s holdin’ court like he owns the whole company.
[Jack Mason grabs the mic, pacing the ring like a prowling wolf.]
Jack Mason: "Cut the music, cut the noise! Take a look around, North Pole — this right here is what domination looks like. Yeah, the Beasts had a little slip-up last night, Huck and Tom had their fifteen minutes in the sun — but newsflash, boys, lightning don’t strike twice. Halloween Horror? October thirty-first? My monsters are takin’ back what’s rightfully ours, and when it’s done, the River Reapers are gonna be cryin’ for a raft to float their sorry carcasses downstream!"
[Crowd boos, Mason smirks and leans over the ropes.]
Jack Mason: "And Rudolph… oh, Rudy, Rudy, Rudy. Tonight you found out what happens when you step in the ring with Marcus the Beastmaster. You got tossed around like the weak link you’ve always been. Now you’re clingin’ to this little rematch you begged for at Halloween Horror — but here’s a thought, reindeer boy: maybe don’t even show up. Maybe hand that spot over to somebody more deserving. Maybe one of the Amigos. At least they’ve got the guts to fight like men. You? You’re just red-nosed roadkill waitin’ to happen!"
[Polly claps and twirls around Mason like a siren.]
Hammer Washington: Oh, come on now! That’s uncalled for. Rudolph’s a proud champion, a fan favorite —
Brick Brody (cutting him off): Proud don’t win matches, Hammer! Mason’s right — Rudolph’s runnin’ on fumes. The Horde’s chewin’ him up and spittin’ him out, and come Halloween, he might not even make it to the ring.
[Mason adjusts his belt and looks straight into the hard camera.]
Jack Mason: "And while I’m at it — let’s talk about tonight’s so-called main event. Sinister Klaus versus Lion? That’s the headliner? That’s what closes the show? You’ve got the North Pole Champion right here, bleedin’ ratings, drawin’ crowds, breakin’ necks, and you stick me in the middle of the card? Ha! Biggest insult of my career. So here’s what’s gonna happen — the second I leave this ring, you’re gonna watch those numbers plummet. You’re gonna watch the paper champ, Sinister Klaus, try and convince you he’s the top dog. But the truth? He ain’t even in the same league as Mean Jack Mason. You want a real main event? You’re lookin’ at it."
[Polly Mason snatches the mic and twirls around the ring, breaking into her mocking sing-song voice, pointing at the camera.]
Polly Mason (singing):
🎵 “Huck and Sawyer think they’re tough,
But Halloween night, they’ll get enough,
The Beasts will rise, the river runs red,
Two little boys goin’ straight to bed!
Ohhh, the Beasts will crush, the Beasts will maul,
Halloween Horror — they’ll take it all!” 🎵
[The Beasts snarl and pound their chests, Mason raises his belt high, and the Horde stands tall over the carnage.]
Hammer Washington (disgusted): What an absolute display of arrogance from the North Pole Champion and his Horde. Folks, the fire’s only burnin’ hotter heading toward Halloween Horror.
Brick Brody (smirking): Arrogance? No, Hammer — that’s called confidence. Mason’s right — this should’ve been the main event. After this circus, I almost don’t even wanna stick around for Klaus and Lion. Almost.
MATCH 4 INTROS AND ENTRANCES | |
| Intro by Louie Linville | Intro by Louie Linville |
| “From the frozen frontiers of the far North… weighing a combined 565 pounds... the unbreakable... the unshakable… POOOLAR BEEEAAAARS!!” | “Ladies and gentlemen, now entering the ring — the daring duo of folklore and adventure! First, the seafaring legend who’s conquered storms and serpents alike… SINBAD! And his partner, the cunning hero who turned candy into courage… HANSEL! Together, they are the fan-favorite team of HANSEL AND SINBAD!” |
| Entrance | Entrance |
| The arena lights dim to a frozen blue hue as a deep, thunderous war drum beat begins, layered with wind howls and cracking ice. On the screen: a glacier splits, revealing the words “THE NORTH REMEMBERS.” The two massive figures of Polar Bear 1 and Polar Bear 2 step through fog and snowfall effects at the top of the ramp, clad in fur-lined ring gear and cold stares. They march to the ring in perfect sync, no emotion, no theatrics — just raw dominance. They never speak. They never smile. They just crush. | A rousing orchestral adventure theme with pounding drums and flutes fills the arena. The lights shimmer gold and blue as Sinbad strides out first, cloak flowing, flashing a daring grin while gesturing grandly to the crowd. Hansel follows, tossing candy to fans and twirling his custom candy-cane baton. The duo meet mid-ramp, bump fists, and pose back-to-back — the sailor of legend and the clever survivor — as fireworks burst in a wave of golden sparks. They run to the ring, soaking in the cheers, Sinbad rallying the crowd while Hansel climbs the ropes, pointing confidently to their opponents. |
Hammer Washington: Well, fans, it’s time for our fourth bout of the evening, and this one is a real test. We’ve got the Polar Bears, two of the most rugged brawlers in NPCW, taking on the unlikely new pairing of Hansel and Sinbad. First time these two men are teaming up, and boy oh boy, they’ve got themselves a tall order tonight.
Brick Brody: Yeah, Hammer, and word on the street is Sinbad’s been sniffin’ around the Hunter’s Enclave, tryin’ to get himself a spot in their little outlaw crew. I’ll tell ya what, that’s the smartest move that sailor’s ever made. You don’t survive on your own in this business anymore — you need muscle, you need backup, and the Enclave are killers.
Hammer Washington: That remains to be seen, Brick. Right now, Hansel’s starting things off, and he’s going right after Polar Bear #1 with a Spine Crusher! That’s some impressive power out of the gate.
Brick Brody: Yeah, but Hammer, let’s not get carried away. Anybody can get lucky in the first minute. Let’s see what happens when these Bears get mean.
Hammer Washington: Sinbad tagging in, and he’s coming in hot — oh, but wait a minute! Polar Bear #1 with a big neckbreaker, nearly spiked Sinbad right on the mat. That’s what you’re talking about, Brick, the brute force of these two monsters.
Brick Brody: You can’t train for that, Hammer. You can’t practice gettin’ your head snapped back by a creature that outweighs you by a hundred pounds. That’s just a different kind of hurt.
Hammer Washington: Sinbad’s rallying though! Inverted Tornado DDT! Nicely done, the big man can move when he needs to!
Brick Brody: I’ll give him that — he’s got the scrapper’s instinct. Reminds me of some brawls I saw in old Cairo ports… but let’s see if he can keep it up when the Bears stop playing nice.
Hammer Washington: Hansel back in, but Polar Bear #2 now legal as well — and good heavens, look at that Inverted Bearhug! Hansel’s thrashing but he’s not submitting!
Brick Brody: And he should’ve, Hammer! Save your career! These fans won’t pay your hospital bills. But no, he’s fightin’ like some storybook hero. That’s how you end up in traction.
Hammer Washington: Hansel somehow gets free, fighting his way back, a Belly-to-Belly Suplex! He’s not going down without a fight.
Brick Brody: Yeah, but one suplex don’t win a war, Hammer. You think these Bears are just gonna roll over? Forget about it.
Hammer Washington: Back and forth now, both teams tagging in and out, both trying to keep fresh. Hansel with another Boston Crab, really wrenching down on Polar Bear #1!
Brick Brody: You can crab a bear all day, it don’t matter. These guys are built to take punishment. They eat submission holds for breakfast and swat ‘em away like mosquitoes.
Hammer Washington: Double-teaming from the Polar Bears now — referee "Honest" Abe losing control here! Massive paw strike, and a Snowstorm Spin from Polar Bear #2! Hansel somehow gets back into the ring at the count of eight, but he’s barely standing.
Brick Brody (laughing): That right there, Hammer, that’s what I love! Old-school violence! Two-on-one, big men doin’ what big men should do — crushin’ whatever’s in front of ‘em.
Hammer Washington: Hansel’s still fighting though, Belly-to-Belly Suplex! Oh, but the Bears just keep tagging, keep wearing him down.
Brick Brody: Hansel looks like he’s been lost in the woods again. Maybe he’ll find a gingerbread house to hide in after this.
Hammer Washington: Tag to Sinbad, who comes in strong! Inverted Facelock Backbreaker on Polar Bear #2! And again on Polar Bear #1! Sinbad’s bringing the fire — but wait, Polar Bear #1 scoops him up! Backbreaker! A devastating one at that!
Brick Brody: That’s it, Hammer, it’s over. Nobody gets up from that kind of crunch.
Hammer Washington: Cover… one, two, three! That’s it! The Polar Bears with the victory here tonight over Hansel and Sinbad in a bruising contest!
POLAR BEARS DEFEATS SINBAD AND HANSEL VIA PINFALL AT THE 22-MINUTE MARK WHEN POLAR BEAR 1 PINS SINBAD WITH A BACKBREAKER.
MATCH 5 INTROS AND ENTRANCES | |
| Intro by Louie Linville | Intro by Louie Linville |
| "Making his way to the ring… led by the diabolical genius Dr. Frankenstein... standing over SEVEN FEET TALL and weighing in at THREE HUNDRED AND FORTY POUNDS of pure, unrelenting terror… he is the ORIGINAL experiment in PAIN… THE ALPHA MONSTER… | “Standing at 6 feet 4 inches tall… weighing 260 pounds… from the darkened corners of forgotten legends… he is the relentless force that hunts the night—VAN HELSING!” |
| Entrance | Entrance |
| As the lights dim and a storm of purple and green lightning crackles on the tron, industrial horrorcore metal blares through the arena. On the jumbotron, the words "THEY LIVE! THEY LIVE! THEY LIVE TO BRING DESTRUCTION" flash with rhythmic static. Smoke floods the ramp as Dr. Frankenstein steps out first, cackling madly with a control device in hand. Behind him lumbers The ALPHA Monster, bolts in neck, stitches visible, unfazed by the crowd's jeers. He stops, cracks his neck, and raises his massive arms as thunder echoes through the arena. | The lights drop to near-darkness, replaced by a deep blue hue and slow flashes of silver strobe. A haunting pipe organ plays a gothic orchestral theme layered with thunderclaps and wolf howls. Smoke rolls across the ramp as Van Helsing emerges through the mist, wearing a long black-and-blue duster coat and a shadowed fedora. His cold stare pierces the arena as he walks with purpose—no wasted motion, no theatrics. He stops at the ring steps, slowly tilting his head up toward the rafters before stepping between the ropes like a man on a mission. The crowd chants his name in reverence—not out of excitement, but respect. |
[Bell Rings]
Hammer Washington: Fans, we are set for our fifth contest of the night, and what a collision this promises to be! On one side, the unstoppable creation of Dr. Frankenstein — Frankenstein’s Monster Mark II — and on the other, the fearless leader of the Hunter’s Enclave, Van Helsing!
Brick Brody: Oh, this one’s right up my alley, Hammer. None of that flips-and-tricks garbage here, no TikTok poses, no fancy tights. Just a monster made of bolts and bruises, and a hunter who looks like he’s been in more bar fights than church sermons. This is a man’s match.
Hammer: Van Helsing comes out swinging with a big right hand, but the Monster shrugs it off!
Brick: Like punching a wall, Hammer. You don’t knock down cinder blocks with a Sunday haymaker.
Hammer: But look at this! The Monster with that deadweight drop, slamming Van Helsing to the mat! Oh my!
Brick: He ain’t pretty, but that’ll flatten your lungs in a hurry.
Hammer: The Monster hoisting Van Helsing — running powerslam! That’s The Flat Liner!
Brick: That’s 400 pounds dropping on you, Hammer. I don’t care if you’re a vampire hunter, demon hunter, or treasure hunter — you’re getting squashed.
Hammer: But Van Helsing’s got fight! He’s wrenching back with the Holy Crossface!
Brick: That’s guts right there. But lemme tell you, Hammer, guts get spilled. Strength like that monster’s doesn’t care how much heart you’ve got.
Hammer: Van Helsing with the spear! The Silver Bullet Spear! Monster’s rocked!
Brick: First time I’ve seen the big man stumble tonight.
Hammer: And now — oh no! Van Helsing lifting him… tombstone position! Back to the Grave!! He hit it!
Brick: I don’t believe it! He tombstoned a man stitched together from cadavers!
Hammer: Cover—no, the Monster kicks out! Van Helsing can’t believe it.
Brick: Neither can I. Back in my day, Hammer, a move like that ended your career, not just your night.
Hammer: They’re trading shots now—Monster with the stitched slam! Van Helsing answers with the heart punch! Both men down hard!
Brick: That’s called fighting like you mean it. None of this choreographed ballet — this is ugly, this is mean, this is wrestling!
Hammer: Monster cinches him in—The Clamp! That pendulum backbreaker! Van Helsing screaming in pain, but he won’t quit!
Brick: Stubborn fool. That’s how hunters end up being the hunted.
Hammer: Wait! Van Helsing breaks free! Right hand to the chest — Stake to the Heart! He drops the Monster!
Brick: What?!
Hammer: Cover—one! Two! Three! He got him! Van Helsing slays the Monster here tonight on Chill Factor!
VAN HELSING DEFEATS FRANKENSTEIN’S MONSTER VIA PINFALL AT THE 15-MINUTE MARK.
Hammer: What a fight! A battle of raw power and iron will, and tonight it’s Van Helsing standing tall!
Brick: I’ll give the hunter credit, Hammer, he survived a war. But lemme tell ya — you don’t just kill monsters, they come back. And when that stitched-up freak rises again, Van Helsing better have more than a heart punch ready.
GARNETT
[Lights hit the ring. “Honest” Abe has exited. The crowd is buzzing as Slick Ricky Vega, mic in hand, struts up next to Van Helsing, who is still sweaty from his victory.]
Slick Ricky Vega: Wooo, baby, what a night in Halifax, and what a major league victory! Slick Ricky Vega’s here live, stylin’ and profilin’, turnin’ the volume up to eleven, and standing next to the man who’s got more stakes than a Texas grill-out — the Hunter of Hunters, Van Helsing!
[Crowd cheers, “Van Hel-sing! Van Hel-sing!”]
Van Helsing (grim, steady voice): Another monster falls. Another chapter in this war closed. But don’t think for a second the hunt is done. Not until every creature of the dark has been put down.
Slick Ricky Vega: Yeah, bay-bay, but speaking of unfinished business, word on the street is you’ve still got one hairy situation to settle. I’m talkin’ about HCW’s own Dark Dominion and that gnarly beast of a man, Beastfang!
Van Helsing (nodding): Beastfang. I’ve tracked him across oceans. I’ve watched him maul men and leave them broken. But at Convergence next month, his hunt ends. I’ll put a silver bullet right through the heart of that animal, and the Dominion will know the name Van Helsing means their extinction.
[Crowd roars, some stomping their feet.]
Slick Ricky Vega: Oooh yeah! That’s rock ‘n’ roll! But, brother, before we get there — Polar Power: Halloween Horror. October 31. You and the big, bad boogeyman himself, Sinister Klaus. The question on everybody’s lips, daddy-o — is the Universal Title on the line?
Van Helsing (intense, glaring at camera): No. Because Klaus is a coward. A paper champion. He hides behind contracts, behind lawyers, behind that little worm Fenwick Grimbough. He knows that if I had my shot at his gold, I’d take it. So he’s ducking me. But title or no title, on Halloween, I’ll carve through Sinister Klaus just the same.
[The fans cheer, but suddenly — a noise begins. From the upper decks, long, sharp wolf howls echo through the arena. The cameras swing up to reveal dozens of fans in the cheap seats standing, dressed in red shirts with a white wolf’s head emblazoned on them.]
Hammer Washington (from commentary): What in the world is this?!
Brick Brody: I’ll tell ya what it is, Hammer — that ain’t no coincidence. That’s organized, that’s a pack. And Van Helsing don’t look so smug now.
[The howling grows louder, building into a chant. Then, amongst the pack, an older battle-worn man in a flowing red cloak stands tall. He raises a finger and points directly down at Van Helsing in the ring. The crowd erupts.]
[Camera zooms on Van Helsing. His jaw tightens, his lips purse. He mutters just loud enough for the mic to barely catch.]
Van Helsing (whispering): …Garnett.
[Fade to black as the wolf howls echo, and the broadcast cuts to commercial.]
MAIN EVENT INTROS AND ENTRANCES | |
| Intro by Louie Linville | Intro by Louie Linville |
| “From the frozen wastes beyond mercy... weighing in at 327 pounds of fearsome frost and wrath... he is the bringer of reckoning, the punisher of the naughty... this is no jolly myth—this is Sinister Klaus!” | “He is the roar of courage, the warrior king of Oz… standing tall with the heart of a lion—make way for… THE BRAAAAAVE… LIIIIIIION!” |
| Entrance | Entrance |
| A cold blue mist floods the stage as a low, ominous bell tolls, and a blizzard-like fog coils across the ramp. The arena falls into total darkness. A warped, industrial-metal version of a twisted Christmas anthem explodes through the speakers—chains clanging, sleigh bells distorted, ghostly whispers echoing. A guttural "HO... HO... HO..." rumbles as a black iron chariot slowly emerges, pulled by four corrupted reindeer in war armor. Riding atop is Sinister Klaus—a towering specter in black and crimson, arms crossed, beard like a battle flag, eyes like frozen fire. He steps down from the chariot, dragging a rusted sack behind him, and marches to the ring with judgment in every step—unbothered by the crowd's terror. | A booming tribal war-drum anthem kicks in, layered with roars and triumphant horns. A golden spotlight sweeps the entrance as THE BRAVE LION steps out in a regal fur-lined cloak and lion-emblazoned gear. He beats his chest and lets out a mighty roar to rally the crowd, who chant back in unison. Fire bursts light the stage as he charges to the ring, fearless and proud. |
Hammer Washington: Folks, it’s main event time! The Universal Championship is on the line — Sinister Klaus, the reigning champ, defends against the red-hot challenger, Lion! This is what Chill Factor is all about!
Brick Brody: And lemme tell ya, Hammer, Lion’s got guts steppin’ up to the big man. But guts don’t buy you dinner and they don’t win you titles. Klaus is the champ for a reason — he cheats better, he hits harder, and he don’t care about the rules.
Minute 1–2
Hammer: There’s the bell! Lion explodes out of the gate — SPINNING HEEL KICK! He catches the champion square on the jaw!
Brick: Kid’s comin’ in hot, but all that does is rattle Klaus’s beard. You don’t win the biggest prize in wrestling with a karate kick.
Hammer: Another spinning heel kick! Klaus staggered early!
Brick: He ain’t staggered, Hammer — he’s baitin’ him in. Seen it a hundred times in bar fights.
Minute 3
Hammer: Bodyslam by Lion! He’s showing no fear, tossing the champion!
Brick: Yeah, congratulations, you slammed a 300-pound wall. Now what? That wall’s still comin’ back for ya!
Minute 4–5
Hammer: Klaus answers back! SLEIGH RIDE LARIAT! Nearly took Lion’s head off!
Brick: That’s what a champion looks like, Hammer — one swing, and you change the whole mood.
Hammer: But Lion counters later — BRAINBUSTER! The champ is down! The crowd is electric!
Brick: You don’t put Klaus down easy. He’s tougher than reindeer jerky.
Minute 6–7
Hammer: NORTH POLE DROP! Klaus covers—one, two—NO! Lion reverses into a pin of his own! One, two—Klaus kicks out!
Brick: Cheap pin attempts never win titles. You gotta take a man apart to beat him.
Hammer: Klaus regains control — another NORTH POLE DROP! Lion’s rocked!
Minute 8–9
Hammer: Hold on — Fenwick Grimbough’s up on the apron, hollering those strange Ruke quotes again! He’s distracting Lion!
Brick: That’s called strategy, Hammer. Every great champ’s got a mouthpiece, and Fenwick’s one of the best.
Hammer: STOCKING STUFFER STRIKES from Klaus! Pummeling Lion into the corner!
Minute 10–11
Hammer: Klaus charges — SLEIGH RIDE LARIAT—NO! Lion reverses—SPINNING HEEL KICK! But Klaus blocks it!
Brick: That’s why he’s champ! He’s seen every move comin’ before it even happens!
Hammer: Another NORTH POLE DROP! He’s going for the cover! One, two—Lion kicks out!
Minute 12–13
Hammer: YULE ELBOW connects! But Lion rallies — Bodyslam into the Main Event Neckbreaker! He’s fighting with everything he’s got!
Brick: I’ll give Lion credit — kid’s hangin’ in there. But hangin’ ain’t winnin’.
Minute 14 – Finish
Hammer: Klaus drops the big leg — NAUGHTY LIST! The running leg drop crashes across Lion’s chest! The champ hooks the leg!
Crowd: ONE! TWO! THREE!
Hammer: That’s it! Sinister Klaus retains the Universal Championship here on Chill Factor!
Brick: Like I told ya, Hammer — Santa Claus don’t bring gifts, but Sinister Klaus brings pain. Another victim added to the Naughty List!
SINISTER KLAUS (C) DEFEATS LION VIA PINFALL WITH THE NAUGHTY LIST (RUNNING LEG DROP) AT THE 14-MINUTE MARK TO RETAIN THE UNIVERSAL CHAMPIONSHIP.
Hammer Washington: Oh, come on now! That just makes me sick. Sinister Klaus might still be champion, but you and I both know, Brick, he had a whole lot of help from Fenwick Grimbough out there tonight. That man’s constant interference turned the tide more than once!
Brick Brody: Hammer, Hammer, Hammer… you sound like every cryin’ fan in the front row. Winners find a way, losers make excuses. Fenwick didn’t do nothin’ illegal — he just rattled Lion’s brain with a few mind games. That’s called ring IQ.
Hammer: “Ring IQ”? That was distraction, plain and simple! Lion had the champ on the ropes until Fenwick stepped in!
Brick: Hey, Hammer, I been around this sport longer than you’ve been keepin’ score. The smartest champions ain’t the ones who do it alone. They’re the ones who use every tool at their disposal. Fenwick’s a tool — in more ways than one — but he makes Klaus unbeatable. That’s why he’s still holdin’ that Universal Title high tonight.
Hammer: I’ll give Lion credit — he came out swinging, he fought with fire, and he nearly pulled off the upset of the year. But once again, Sinister Klaus walks away with the gold, thanks to a shortcut.
Brick: Shortcut? Ha! That was the express lane to victory, Hammer. That’s why he’s the champ and everybody else is just a challenger.
Hammer: Folks, I can promise you this — Lion is not done, not by a long shot. And if Sinister Klaus keeps winning like this, he’s going to find himself with a lot of angry challengers in the weeks to come.
Brick: Let ‘em line up. Klaus will just knock ‘em down. That’s the Klaus Clause, baby.
Hammer: …The Klaus Clause? Oh, brother. Fans, don’t go anywhere — we’ll have more on this shocking finish when we return.
CLOSING SEGMENT
Brick Brody: Oh yeah, Hammer, the Frost Giants weren’t just making a debut — they were making a declaration! Those two ain’t here to play games, they’re here to crush bones. Finally, a tag team I can get behind. Big, mean, and they don’t give a damn about the fans’ feelings. I love it.
Kent better find him someone good or it’s Nighty Night.
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