3/6-Post Show Media Scrum


Last Night’s Post-Wrestling Night in the Heartland Media Scrum
Topeka, Kansas

*NEW* MVW Women’s Champion Jennifer Colton
The flashes of camera bulbs illuminated the press area, signaling the arrival of the new MVW Women’s Champion, Jennifer Colton. As she made her way to the podium, the thunderous cheers and applause from the audience enveloped her like a warm embrace. She couldn’t help but beam with pride as she stood before them, the championship belt gleaming in her hands. The atmosphere was electric, charged with excitement and anticipation for what this young champion would say next. The stage was set for her moment in the spotlight, and all eyes were on her as she began to speak, her voice confident and determined. And as she held onto that championship belt, she knew that anything was possible with hard work and determination.

“First off,” Jennifer began, her voice strong and confident, “I owe a huge thanks to RIA and Miranda DC.” She nodded earnestly. “Without them having my back out there, Victoria McGill might still be holding this title.”

The mention of her allies drew cheers from the fans who remembered showdown that had tested every fiber of her spirit.

“Next, to my family…” Her voice softened, eyes glistening with heartfelt sincerity. “Your love and support mean everything. And to Ray McAvay,” she shifted her gaze to the MVW owner standing proudly off to the side, “for believing in me enough to let me train in Japan and come back stronger—thank you.”

Jennifer raised the title high above her head, eliciting another roar from the audience. “And to all the MVW fans, your cheers fueled my fire. You believed in me, and here we are!” She gestured to the shining belt. “Last time I was champion for six months. This time,” she paused for dramatic effect, “we’re going for the record!”

MVW Majority Owner Ray McAvay
As the applause continued, Ray McAvay took his turn at the microphone, his seasoned presence commanding immediate attention. He spoke with the gravitas of a man who’d seen countless battles within the squared circle.

“First off, the injury to McLean Oswald wasn’t as bad we’d feared,” McAvay began.  “She’ll be out until the end of April.  So that’s good news.”

McAvay took a deep breath of relief and then moved on to the show.

“Tonight’s show… it had it all. But what’s next is even bigger,” Ray announced, teasing the upcoming Spring Fling extravaganza featuring two thrilling six-person tag team matches. “Tune in to Wrestling Night in the Heartland next Tuesday for the full rundown.”

The moment was interrupted by a tempest, as Jill Berg stormed onto the stage, her heels clicking like the ticking of a clock counting down to confrontation. “Ray McAvay!” she exclaimed, her voice cutting through the air like a knife. ” You let Jennifer Colton bring in PRIME’s RIA and The SHOOT Project’s Miranda DC so she could have them assault her and JBE during the match!”

Her accusation was met by boos from the crowd, but Ray remained unflappable.

“Jill,” Ray replied with calm authority, “JBE brought this on themselves by repeatedly attacking Colton on the floor in previous matches. Your team made their bed when they kept attacking Colton and this time, she brought company to back her up.” His words were measured, leaving no room for debate.

Unfazed, Jill Berg launched into a tirade of corporate jargon, boasting about Sheline Carrigan and Madison Miller’s tag team success. “With their combined efforts, they were able to secure the largest deal in company history,” she declared proudly. “And don’t even get me started on their strategic planning skills,” she continued, her voice rising in excitement. “They are truly unstoppable together.” She paused for effect, her eyes sweeping over the impressed audience. “But let’s not forget who trained them,” she added with a sly grin before confidently striding out of the room. Her words lingered, leaving no doubt in anyone’s mind about her role in the team’s success.

“You all clearly don’t understand the level of talent and hard work it takes to reach this level,” she sneered, her perfectly manicured nails tapping against the podium. “Sheline and Madison are paving the way for our company’s future, while the rest of you struggle to keep up.”

The crowd’s disdain followed her out, their boos echoing off the walls. But Jill just tossed her hair over her shoulder and flashed a condescending smile. “Jealous much? Don’t worry, you can always strive for mediocrity.” With a final haughty laugh, she sauntered out of the room, leaving a bitter taste in everyone’s mouth.

Ray cleared his throat, turning his attention to the topic of the High Octane Wrestling LSD title match. “Jace Parker Davidson reached out,” he explained with a nonchalant shrug. “We made it happen quick, and he chose Captain Jack himself. It turned out to be one hell of a match.”

With that final note, McAvay stepped back, satisfied with the night’s revelations. The anticipation for the next event hung thick in the air, promising more high-stakes drama and unforgettable moments in the ring.

No Quarter: Bracken Krueger and Daryn Thompson
As soon as Bracken Krueger and Daryn Thompson, the infamous duo known as No Quarter, entered the media room, a hush fell over the crowd. Krueger’s massive height seemed to fill the entire space, his broad shoulders threatening to burst out of his robe. Thompson walked beside him, her frame a stark contrast to his intimidating stature, but she radiated an intense aura that demanded attention. The two approached the podium with calculated steps, their eyes fixed on the sea of reporters in front of them. The air was charged with anticipation, as everyone knew that something big was about to be revealed by this powerful pair.

“First off,” Thompson’s voice rang out clear and sharp, “big congrats to Jennifer Colton on reclaiming the Women’s Title. She’s proof that hard work and having the right allies pays off in this business.”

Krueger nodded, his gaze fixed on an unseen point in the distance. “But let’s talk about The Stevens Dynasty,” he growled, the bass in his voice resonating through the room. “Cary Stevens… consider this your only warning. Keep yourself out of our ring, or you’ll find yourself at the bottom of the abyss I call home.”

There was no mistaking the threat in his words, nor the promise of retribution that hung heavy in the air. Thompson chimed in, her Texas accent adding a sharp edge to her tone. “George Stevens, you took a cheap shot last month, but we don’t forget, and we sure as hell don’t forgive. We’re coming for those tag belts, and just so you know—when we step into that ring in two weeks, there will be ‘no quarter’ given.”

The crowd murmured their approval, knowing full well that when No Quarter made a promise, violence was sure to follow.

Dawn McGill with The Kentucky Redneck Mafia
As they made their way out, the atmosphere in the room seemed to transform with the arrival of Dawn McGill. She exuded a commanding presence, her fiery red hair cascading down her shoulders. She was dressed in a sharp black suit with a plunging neckline, accentuating her curves and adding an air of danger to her already formidable aura. Flanking her were the rugged members of the Kentucky Redneck Mafia, Cletus T. Johnson and Enos T. Johnson, who oozed a dangerous charm. A look of fierce determination mixed with frustration crossed Dawn’s face as she entered the room, ready to take on whatever challenges lay ahead.

“Should’ve been there quicker for Adam,” she declared, her voice tinged with regret. “The SEC, they’re nothing but a bunch of underhanded jackals preying on the talent. But being back with KRM, helping forge the new blood like Adam Ellis—it’s where I belong.”

She paused, her eyes scanning the crowd before continuing. “Adam’s hit a rough patch, sure, losing five straight in PRIME. But every great has their trials, and it’s not about how you fall—it’s about how you get back up. Adam’s got the heart, and with the KRM behind him, he’ll turn it around.”

Her conviction was as solid as the earth beneath their feet, and though the path ahead was fraught with challenges, with Dawn McGill and the KRM standing united, hope remained undiminished. The scene closed on Dawn’s unyielding stare, a testament to the unwavering spirit that defined the very essence of old-school professional wrestling.

The press room buzzed with the residual energy from No Quarter’s fiery declaration and Dawn McGill’s impassioned defense of Adam Ellis. The air was thick with tension, sorely needing a release valve.

‘Sports Entertainment Genius’ and ‘Raconteur of Road Rage’ Triple R and Phil Feinbaum
It found one in the swaggering entrance of Triple R, decked out in his ostentatious ‘Sports Entertainment Genius’ garb, complete with a smirk that could incite a riot.

“Alright, alright, settle down,” Triple R commanded, silencing the murmurs as he took center stage, Phil Feinbaum at his elbow like a shadow. CSPN reporter Rebecca Morris, microphone in hand, stepped forward, her eyes reflecting the glare of the camera lights.

“Triple R, your thoughts on tonight’s show?” she queried, her voice cutting through the charged atmosphere.

“Forty-nine minutes of wrestling?” Triple R scoffed, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Way too much grappling, not nearly enough razzle-dazzle. Where’s the spectacle? The drama? This is entertainment, sweetheart.”

Rebecca nodded, pressing on with professionalism. “And Luke Woods’ victory over Adam Ellis?”

“Ah, Luke Woods,” Triple R beamed, his face lighting up at the mention of the SEC member. “A true star in the making. He exemplified what it means to be SEC tonight—superior talent, unrivaled skill.”

Feinbaum couldn’t resist chiming in, his voice dripping with disdain. “Ellis? A small-town kid playing in the deep end. He’ll never reach the heights of the SEC. We’re the elite. Our faction dominates while others just… participate.”

Rebecca shifted gears, her attention turning to last week’s controversy. “What about Surf Express Bro’s attack? Was that part of the script?”

“Script?” Triple R’s laugh boomed across the room as he brandished a sheaf of papers. “This right here said we run this show! SEC goes over— no ifs, ands, or buts.”

“Surf Express Bro thought they could outshine the SEC,” Feinbaum snorted, his contempt palpable. “They learned the hard way— nobody steals our spotlight.”

As the scene closed, Triple R and Feinbaum stood united, a testament to the ruthless ambition of the Sports Entertainment Corporation. Their words were a gauntlet thrown, a challenge to any who dared to question their supremacy in the squared circle. The message was clear: In the world of professional wrestling, might makes right, and the SEC reigned supreme.

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