LIVE EVENT MODE – Gas South Arena, Duluth, Georgia
Doors are closed. The building is sitting at 5,187 in attendance. In a venue built for over 12,000, the empty seats are obvious — especially in the upper levels and corners. The energy is curious but not hot. People are still settling in, some already on their phones.
The house lights cut to black.
A loud, heavy pyro sequence explodes from the stage — multiple bursts of white and gold flames shooting high into the air, the sound cracking through the arena. The crowd reacts with a decent pop as the lights stay down.
The big screens come alive with a Sterling Marlin tribute graphic.
It opens on old footage of Sterling in the ring from years ago, then cuts to more recent shots of him with the crew. A simple, clean graphic appears over the footage:
“IN MEMORY OF THE WORK” Sterling Marlin Weeks ago, Sterling was involved in a serious accident while bringing equipment to this building. As a result, tonight’s show will look different than planned. We appreciate your patience and understanding.
The graphic fades out.
The arena stays dark for a beat.
Then the opening pyro hits again — even louder this time — as Taylor Swift steps out onto the stage.
She’s in the tight white latex jumpsuit, the material shining under the lights, with “DRIVE ME STERLING” stretched across the back in bold lettering. The spotlight follows her as she walks down the ramp with that signature deliberate pace, hips swaying, letting the moment breathe. The crowd reaction is solid — better than before — a mix of cheers, whistles, and phones coming out.
She steps through the ropes (laid out flat as part of the large spray-painted circle on the floor) and walks to the center. A stagehand hands her a microphone. She takes it, waits for the noise to settle, and brings it to her mouth.
Taylor Swift: “First of all… I just want to take a second and talk about something that’s been on my mind.”
The crowd quiets down.
Taylor Swift: “A few weeks ago, Sterling Marlin was in a really bad car accident. A lot of you already know that. What some of you might not know is that he was bringing the ring with him that night. That’s why we don’t have one here tonight.”
She looks around the building, taking in the empty seats without commenting on them.
Taylor Swift: “I was supposed to come out here and do what I usually do… but after everything that’s happened, it didn’t feel right to just pretend like this is a normal night. So I’m gonna keep this short and say what I actually want to say.”
She shifts her stance slightly, the latex creaking.
Taylor Swift: “Sterling… if you’re watching this right now, I just want you to know that we’re thinking about you. All of us. And I hope you’re okay.”
She pauses for a second, then lets a small, knowing smirk form.
Taylor Swift: “And I hope you like what I’m wearing tonight.”
She turns just enough to show off the back of the jumpsuit again. A louder reaction rolls through the crowd this time — cheers, laughter, and a few loud whistles. Taylor lets it land, then turns back to face the hard camera.
Taylor Swift: “Hope you like it, Sterling.”
She lowers the mic slightly but doesn’t walk away. She stays in the center of the circle, looking out at the crowd like she’s waiting for something — or someone — to tell her what’s next.
The lights stay low on her as the crowd reaction continues to roll.
Taylor is still standing in the center of the spray-painted circle, mic in hand, having just finished her short tribute to Sterling. The crowd reaction has started to die down, and there’s a slight awkward pause in the air — not dead, but not hot either.
Backstage:
Cowboy Watts is standing near the gorilla position with an earpiece in, watching the monitors. He speaks calmly but firmly into the mic.
Cowboy Watts: Arnold, you got her?
Arnold Palmer: (through the earpiece, already moving) Yeah, I got her. What do you need?
Cowboy Watts: Tell her to stay out there. Stall. Have her shake her ass for the hard cam so they can really see the “DRIVE ME STERLING” on it. And tell her to play it up like Sterling’s watching from the hospital bed. Then have her do “The Locomotion.” We’ll ride the crowd reaction out of the segment.
Arnold Palmer: Got it.
In the ring:
Taylor is still standing there when one of the producers quickly steps through the ropes and walks up to her. He leans in and quietly relays the instructions in her ear.
Taylor listens, nods once, then brings the mic back up with a small smile, like she’s deciding to have a little fun with it.
Taylor Swift: You know what… since we’re all here, and since Sterling’s probably laid up in that hospital bed watching right now…
She turns slightly, looking over her shoulder toward the hard camera, and gives her ass a slow, deliberate shake — just enough for the stitching on the back of the jumpsuit to be clearly visible.
Taylor Swift: Hope you’re getting a good look, Sterling.
The crowd reacts with a loud mix of cheers, laughter, and whistles. Taylor grins, clearly leaning into it now.
Taylor Swift: Since we’re already doing this… how about we give him something to really smile about?
She lowers the mic for a second, then starts singing — a cappella at first, then motioning for the sound guy to hit the track.
The familiar beat of “The Locomotion” kicks in over the speakers.
Taylor Swift: (singing, playful and energetic) Everybody’s doin’ a brand new dance now… Come on baby, do the locomotion…
She starts doing the dance right there in the middle of the circle — simple, fun, exaggerated movements, shaking her hips and moving her arms as she sings along with the track. The crowd starts clapping and singing along with her. It’s light, it’s fun, and it’s working. The energy in the building picks up noticeably.
Taylor keeps performing the song, feeding off the crowd, really selling it like she’s doing it just for Sterling. She’s smiling, laughing a little between lines, and making sure to hit the choreography in a way that keeps the back of the jumpsuit visible to the hard cam.
After the final chorus, she lets the music fade out and brings the mic back up, breathing a little heavier but still smiling.
Taylor Swift: That one’s for you, Sterling. Feel better soon.
She lowers the mic and stands there in the circle, still smiling as the crowd continues to react — clapping, cheering, and chanting her name. She doesn’t walk off. She just stands there, waiting, like she’s expecting something else to happen.
The camera stays tight on Taylor Swift’s ass as she continues lightly moving to the fading music — the sweat making the white latex cling even tighter, the black “DRIVE ME STERLING” lettering clearly visible. The shot holds for a few seconds before cutting to black.
The screen fades in on Mariska Hargitay’s office.
Mariska is standing behind her desk with her arms crossed, looking genuinely pissed. Sitting and standing in front of her are the four women who showed up unbooked: Boxxy, Jennette McCurdy, Miranda Cosgrove, and Anya Taylor-Joy.
Mariska Hargitay: (sharp, no-nonsense) Do you four have any idea how badly you fucked this up?
The room is quiet for a second. Jennette already looks over it. Miranda looks tense. Boxxy shifts in her seat like she’s about to say something. Anya stays quiet, just watching.
Mariska Hargitay: I made it very clear — multiple times — that unbooked talent weren’t supposed to be in the building tonight. And what did you do? You walked in like this was some kind of open call. Like we needed the extra bodies.
She leans forward on the desk.
Mariska Hargitay: Now I’ve got Cowboy on my ass, the show’s already running behind, and I have to fix your mistake by making room for you on the card. So here’s what’s happening.
She looks at all four of them.
Mariska Hargitay: You’re in a tag match tonight. Jennette and Miranda, you two are a team. Boxxy and Anya, you’re the other team.
Jennette McCurdy: (dry, sarcastic) Great. Can’t wait.
Miranda Cosgrove: (carefully) …What kind of match is it?
Mariska Hargitay: (flat) Escape the stall. Inside the handicap bathroom. First team to get both members out of that stall wins. And before any of you start thinking this is some cute little angle — this is happening exactly where you think it’s happening.
She lets that sit for a second before continuing.
Mariska Hargitay: Since you decided to show up without being asked, this is your punishment. You wanted to be here so bad? Now you’re on the show. And if any of you go into business for yourselves out there, I promise you it’ll be a lot worse than a bathroom stall.
Boxxy: (defensive, loud) Wait, that’s not even fair though—
Mariska Hargitay: (cutting her off, firm) I’m not asking. This is what you get for not following instructions. Now get the fuck out of my office and go get ready.
She looks at all four of them one last time.
Mariska Hargitay: And just so we’re clear… your match? Is next.
She sits down at her desk like the conversation is over.
The four women start getting up. Jennette rolls her eyes as she stands. Miranda looks stressed. Boxxy looks pissed. Anya stays quiet but her jaw is tight as they head for the door.
The camera lingers on Mariska for a second as she picks up her phone, already moving on.
Fade to commercial.
The show fades back in from commercial.
We’re in the dimly lit hallway outside the handicap bathroom stall. Security has cleared the area. A referee and two medical staff members are standing nearby. The camera is positioned to catch both the inside and outside of the stall.
Inside the stall, the four women are already locked in.
Jennette McCurdy and Miranda Cosgrove are on one side. Boxxy and Anya Taylor-Joy are on the other. The door is shut and locked from the inside.
A stagehand outside starts the count.
Stagehand: Five… four… three… two… one… Go!
The bell rings.
Inside the stall, it’s immediate chaos.
Jennette grabs Anya by the hair and slams her head into the side of the stall wall. Miranda goes right after Boxxy, shoving her hard into the toilet. Boxxy tries to fight back, throwing wild punches and elbows, but she’s in a bad spot from the jump.
Boxxy: (panicking, struggling) Get the fuck off me—!
Miranda Cosgrove: (gritting her teeth, holding her down) Shut up and stay still!
Anya manages to create some space and starts climbing the stall wall, using the top of the partition to pull herself up. Jennette grabs her leg and yanks hard, trying to drag her back down.
Jennette McCurdy: (yelling) Where the fuck do you think you’re going?!
Anya kicks her off and finally gets over the top. She drops down on the other side of the stall, officially escaping first.
The crowd pops.
But the bell doesn’t ring.
Anya stands outside the stall, breathing hard, looking confused as to why the match hasn’t been stopped.
Anya Taylor-Joy: (quiet, confused) …What the fuck?
Inside the stall, Jennette and Miranda immediately turn their full attention to Boxxy, who is now trapped in there alone with both of them.
Boxxy: (desperate, realizing she’s alone) Anya?! Anya, what the fuck?! Get back in here!
She tries to fight, but Jennette grabs her by the back of the head and violently shoves her face-first into the toilet. Miranda helps hold her down, keeping her there.
Boxxy’s legs kick and thrash as she struggles. The sound of splashing water and muffled choking can be heard from inside the stall. She’s fighting hard, but she’s losing.
Boxxy: (muffled, desperate) Get off—! Stop—!
Jennette and Miranda don’t let up. They keep her head submerged until her struggling starts to slow down. Eventually, her body goes limp.
Right then, the medical staff breaks protocol. One of the doctors quickly unlocks the stall door and rushes in with another staff member.
In one smooth motion, Jennette and Miranda slip right past the doctors as they’re entering the stall. They don’t run. They don’t panic. They just casually walk out of the bathroom like they’re done with their shift.
The second they clear the doorway, the bell rings.
DING DING DING.
Inside the stall, the doctors are now giving Boxxy CPR as she lies on the floor with her head near the toilet. The camera stays on the scene as they work on her.
Outside in the hallway, Anya Taylor-Joy is still standing there. She didn’t go back in to help. She just watches from a few feet away as medical tends to Boxxy, looking lost and unsure of what just happened.
The crowd reaction is loud and mixed — some people are booing heavily, others are yelling “What the fuck?!” and “She left her!”
The camera cuts to a quiet backstage hallway. Emma Watson is walking through when she spots Hilary Duff standing near a production table, stretching out her shoulders.
Emma slows down as she approaches.
Emma Watson: Hey.
Hilary Duff: (looking over, nodding) Hey.
There’s a short pause. Emma leans against the wall across from her.
Emma Watson: You ready for this?
Hilary Duff: (shrugging slightly) As ready as I’m gonna be. Been a weird night, but… I’m not here to complain about it. I just wanna go out there and wrestle.
Emma Watson: (nodding) Yeah. Same. I know things haven’t gone exactly how anyone planned tonight, but I still want to have a real match. Not some half-assed thing where we’re just going through the motions.
Hilary Duff: (looking at her directly) Good. Because I’m not in the mood to do that either. If we’re doing this, I want it to actually mean something. I want to go out there and wrestle like it matters.
Emma studies her for a second, then gives a small, genuine smile.
Emma Watson: That’s all I want too. I’ve got a lot of respect for what you bring. You’ve been doing this a long time. I don’t want to waste that.
Hilary Duff: (after a beat) Appreciate that. And I know you’re not just here to collect a check either. So let’s not make this some bullshit “respect” match where we hug it out and call it a day. Let’s actually go out there and have a match.
Emma Watson: (nodding firmly) Deal.
Hilary pushes off the table and starts walking past her, but stops for one last thing.
Hilary Duff: Just don’t hold back. I’m not gonna.
Emma Watson: I wasn’t planning on it.
Hilary gives her one last look, then keeps walking down the hallway. Emma watches her go for a second before heading in the opposite direction.
The show fades back in from commercial.
We cut to a backstage interview area. Florence Pugh is standing in front of the CBWL backdrop, casually leaning against a production crate while aggressively eating a big brick of cheese like it’s a sandwich. She’s already made serious progress on it.
Wendy Williams walks into frame with a mic, immediately clocking what Florence is doing.
Wendy Williams: Girl… what the hell are you doing?
Florence Pugh: (mouth half full, looking up) Eating cheese?
Wendy Williams: (staring at her like she’s stupid) No shit you’re eating cheese. I’m asking why you’re out here inhaling a whole brick of it like it’s your last meal on death row. You do know you’re supposed to be making your debut next week, right?
Florence Pugh: (chewing) Yeah, I know. That’s why I’m eating now. I’m hungry.
Wendy Williams: (squinting) You’re hungry… so you decided to eat an entire block of cheese backstage? On the night before your first match? You trying to show up constipated next week or something?
Florence Pugh: (pausing mid-bite, then shrugging) I mean… I didn’t really think that far ahead. It was just sitting there and it looked good.
Wendy Williams: (laughing in disbelief) It looked good? Florence, you’re out here stress-eating dairy like it’s going out of style and you don’t even have a match tonight. What are you gonna do if they put you in one of them nasty matches next week? You gonna be in there all stopped up?
Florence Pugh: (still chewing, unfazed) I’ll figure it out if it happens. I’m not really the type to plan ahead like that.
Wendy Williams: (staring at her) You really are just out here winging it, huh?
Florence Pugh: (nodding) Pretty much. I just showed up, they gave me some cheese, and now I’m eating it. That’s about as far as my plan went.
Wendy Williams: (shaking her head) Lord have mercy. Well, good luck next week, girl. Try not to be too backed up when they throw you in whatever disgusting shit they got planned for you.
Florence Pugh: (giving a small, awkward smile while still holding the cheese) Thanks… I think.
Wendy gives her one last judgmental look before turning to the camera.
Wendy Williams: This one right here… y’all better keep an eye on her next week.
The show fades back in from commercial.
We open cold on the concession stand area in the concourse. Laura Prepon is already standing there in her gear, looking around like she’s waiting for her opponent. She checks her wrist tape, shifts her weight, and glances around the area, clearly unsure why she’s been sent here.
After a few seconds, Mila Kunis walks into frame from the side hallway. She doesn’t say a word. She doesn’t even acknowledge Laura at first. She just walks straight up to her and, without warning, slaps her hard across the face.
The sound cracks through the concourse.
Laura stumbles back, shocked. Before she can react, Mila grabs her by the hair and slams her face-first into the metal counter. Laura drops to a knee as Mila immediately starts stomping her.
Mila Kunis: (cold, almost casual) You really thought this was gonna be a regular match?
She grabs Laura by the back of the head and drags her along the concession stand, knocking over cups and trays. Mila then yanks her up and throws her into a stack of boxes, sending everything crashing down.
Laura tries to fight back, landing a couple of wild punches, but Mila eats them and fires back harder. She knees Laura in the stomach, then grabs her and shoves her toward the deep fryer station. Laura’s hands slap against the hot metal as she tries to stay on her feet.
Mila grabs a metal basket and swings it, cracking Laura across the back. She then shoves Laura’s arm toward the fryer. Hot oil splashes up and lands on Laura’s shoulder and side of her face. Laura screams and pulls away, clutching her arm as Mila keeps the pressure on.
Laura Prepon: (in pain) Fuck—!
Mila doesn’t let up. She grabs Laura by the hair again and slams her head into the side of the fryer, then throws her down onto the greasy floor. Laura tries to crawl away, but Mila stomps her in the back and keeps her down.
Mila looks around, spots a big container of nacho cheese, and dumps it all over Laura’s head and back. The thick orange cheese pours down her face and gear as the crowd reacts with a mix of disgust and laughter.
Mila Kunis: (smirking) Look at you.
She grabs Laura by the waistband of her pants and yanks them down in one rough motion, exposing a pair of plain, high-waisted granny panties. The camera zooms in as Laura tries to cover herself, clearly embarrassed. Mila stands over her and laughs.
Mila Kunis: This is what you get for showing up like you belonged here.
Laura tries to pull her pants back up, but Mila stomps her hand and keeps her down. She then grabs Laura by the hair one more time and drags her back toward the deep fryer area. She shoves Laura’s face close to the hot oil again, threatening to dunk her before pulling her back at the last second.
Laura is clearly out of it now — covered in cheese, pants around her ankles, breathing hard.
Mila finally decides she’s had enough. She pulls Laura up one last time, sets her up, and hits her finisher (a hard spinning heel kick to the head). Laura drops.
Mila drops down and hooks the leg.
Referee: One! Two! Three!
DING DING DING.
Mila gets to her feet and stands over Laura, looking down at her with clear disdain as the referee raises her hand. Laura lies on the floor in a mess of cheese, oil, and shame while Mila just smirks at the camera before walking off.
The show fades back in from commercial.
The arena lights dim as the big screens light up with a simple graphic:
“JOJO SIWA – UPDATE”
A pre-taped video begins to play.
It opens with older footage of JoJo Siwa from a few months ago — smiling big, full of energy, dancing and talking excitedly to the camera in her usual over-the-top style. The footage then cuts to more recent clips of her looking noticeably quieter and more tired, sitting in what appears to be a medical or recovery room.
JoJo’s voice plays over the images:
JoJo Siwa (Voiceover): “Hey everyone… I know a lot of you have been wondering where I’ve been and how I’m doing. I’ve been dealing with some personal stuff lately and it’s been pretty hard. I’m not gonna lie — it’s been one of the toughest times I’ve had in a while.”
The video cuts to a shot of her sitting on a couch, looking directly into the camera. She’s still trying to smile, but it’s much softer and more subdued than her usual self.
JoJo Siwa: “I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who’s been reaching out and checking on me. It really does mean a lot. I’m working on getting better every day, but I’m just not ready to come back yet. I miss being out there with all of you. I miss the energy, the dancing, the crowds… all of it.”
She pauses for a second, then continues.
JoJo Siwa: “I’m gonna keep working and hopefully I’ll be back soon. I just wanted to let you all know that I’m okay… or at least I’m getting there. Thank you again for all the love and support. It really helps.”
The video ends on a shot of her giving a small wave and a tired smile before fading out.
The arena lights come back up as the crowd reacts. There’s a decent amount of applause and some “aww”s, but there are also scattered laughs and indifferent reactions from parts of the audience who clearly aren’t buying into the sympathy video.
The show fades back in from commercial.
We cut to a small production area backstage where several referees are standing around. Larry David (Head Referee), Jack Black, Sarah Silverman, and Urkel (Jaleel White) are all present.
Larry is holding a small piece of paper with the main event written on it.
Larry David: (annoyed, looking around) Alright, listen up. One of you is getting the main event tonight. Emma and Hilary. I’m not doing it. I already worked the bathroom stall match and I’m not going back out there for another one. So we’re doing this the old-fashioned way.
He holds up his fist.
Larry David: Rock, paper, scissors. Best of one. Loser gets the main event. Let’s go.
The four of them put their fists out.
Larry David: One… two… three… shoot!
- Larry David throws Rock
- Jack Black throws Paper
- Sarah Silverman throws Scissors
- Urkel throws Rock
Jack wins with Paper. Sarah wins with Scissors. Larry and Urkel both lose with Rock.
Jack Black: (grinning) Hell yeah! Not it!
Sarah Silverman: (smirking) Sucks to suck.
Larry David: (staring at Urkel) …You.
Urkel: (looking around nervously) Wait… me?
Larry David: (deadpan) Yeah, you. You lost. You’re reffing the main event.
Urkel: (panicking slightly) But I— I don’t even have my glasses on right now! What if I mess up the count?!
Jack Black: (laughing) Then don’t mess it up, Urkel. It’s the main event. No pressure.
Sarah Silverman: (patting Urkel on the back) Have fun out there, champ. Try not to get involved in whatever the hell they’re doing tonight.
Urkel: (muttering as he walks off) This is how I die…
Larry just shakes his head as Urkel leaves.
Larry David: (to the others) See? That’s how you handle these things. Democracy.
The house lights dim as the show returns from commercial.
A simple graphic hits the screens:
MAIN EVENT Emma Watson vs Hilary Duff
The crowd gives a decent reaction — not huge, but solid for the half-empty building.
Hilary Duff’s Entrance
Hilary’s music hits. She walks out with a focused, no-nonsense look on her face. She’s not playing to the crowd much — she just walks straight down the ramp, climbs through the ropes (laid flat as part of the large spray-painted circle), and heads straight to her corner. She bounces on her feet a couple times and stares across the circle, already locked in.
Emma Watson’s Entrance
Emma’s music plays next. She comes out looking calm but clearly a little nervous. She walks down the ramp with her head up, trying to look confident. When she steps through the ropes and into the circle, she glances around at the mostly empty seats for a split second before turning her attention to Hilary.
Both women stand on opposite sides of the big spray-painted circle. The referee (Urkel) checks them both quickly and calls for the bell.
DING DING DING.
The match starts.
Right as they’re about to lock up, Mariska Hargitay’s music hits.
The crowd reacts as she walks out onto the stage with a microphone in hand. She’s dressed sharply, looking very much like the on-screen authority figure. She walks down to the circle slowly, taking her time.
Emma and Hilary both stop and look at her, confused.
Mariska steps into the circle and raises the mic.
Mariska Hargitay: Hold on.
She looks at both women, then turns toward the entrance ramp and makes a hand signal.
A few seconds later, several agents and production crew members come down carrying tools. They walk straight to the center of the circle and start pulling up a square section of the plywood that had been covering the ice.
Once it’s removed, a thick layer of dry ice is revealed underneath. Thick white smoke immediately begins rising from the center of the circle. The crowd reacts with a mix of “oohs” and confused murmurs.
Mariska lowers the mic and speaks directly to Emma and Hilary.
Mariska Hargitay: There. Now you’ve got something to work with.
She drops the mic and walks out of the circle without another word, heading back up the ramp as the smoke continues to rise from the center.
Emma and Hilary both look down at the smoking ice patch, then at each other. Neither of them looks thrilled, but they don’t have time to argue about it.
The referee waves them on.
They slowly circle each other inside the big spray-painted ring. The crowd is quiet, watching.
Emma and Hilary finally lock up in the center. It’s stiff and a little awkward — two untrained women trying to wrestle on a hard plywood surface. They push and pull for a few seconds before Hilary breaks the lockup and shoves Emma backward. Emma stumbles but stays on her feet.
Hilary moves in and grabs Emma in a headlock. Emma fights out of it and pushes Hilary into the ropes (which are just laid on the floor). When Hilary comes back, Emma catches her with a basic shoulder tackle. Hilary goes down but gets right back up.
The two women continue trading basic holds and strikes, both clearly trying to feel each other out while also trying not to look completely lost on the hard surface. Every bump sounds loud and flat against the plywood.
Emma shoots in for a takedown and gets Hilary down, but Hilary reverses it and ends up on top. They scramble on the floor for a moment before both getting back to their feet.
The match is even so far — 50/50.
The show returns from commercial.
The match picks up with Hilary Duff in control. She has Emma Watson down on the plywood and is working her over with basic but effective submission holds. Hilary has wrapped Emma up in a body scissors, squeezing tight while Emma tries to fight out of it. Every time Emma tries to power out, Hilary adjusts and cranks it harder.
Hilary’s thick ass and thighs are on full display as she squeezes — noticeably fatter and softer compared to Emma’s more toned frame. Every time Hilary shifts or adjusts her grip, her ass jiggles heavily against the hard plywood.
Hilary Duff: (gritting her teeth, low) Stay down…
Emma fights her way out of the body scissors and gets back to her feet, but Hilary stays on her. She grabs Emma and locks in a headlock, dragging her around the circle while grinding the hold in. Every few seconds, Hilary starts dragging Emma closer to the exposed dry ice in the center, teasing that she’s going to dump her on it.
Emma fights out of the headlock and shoves Hilary off her. For a moment she gets some momentum — landing a few stiff forearms and a sloppy but effective clothesline that takes Hilary down. The crowd gives her a small reaction as she tries to build some fire.
But Hilary cuts her off quickly. She catches Emma coming in and locks her into a tight abdominal stretch, really wrenching it. Emma’s face twists in pain as Hilary leans into the hold, keeping her trapped near the edge of the ice patch.
Hilary Duff: (quietly, while wrenching the hold) You feel that? I can put you right on it.
Emma fights out of the stretch and reverses it, spinning Hilary around and muscling her toward the center. She manages to trip Hilary up and sends her stumbling backward — right onto the exposed dry ice.
The second Hilary’s back and ass hit the ice, her whole body reacts.
Hilary Duff: (screaming, high-pitched and uncontrolled) AHHH— FUCK!!
She immediately starts thrashing, trying to get off the ice as fast as possible. The chemical burn is instant and vicious. Hilary’s face is twisted in real pain as she rolls off the patch, clutching at her back and ass.
Emma sees the opening and takes it. She grabs Hilary and hits a series of basic but stiff strikes, trying to keep control. She even manages a sloppy but hard suplex, sending Hilary back down near the ice again. Emma’s clearly trying to build something, but she’s moving slower now too — the earlier submissions have taken a toll.
Hilary fights back through the pain. She grabs Emma and, with visible effort, lifts her up and hits a sidewalk slam, driving Emma’s back and side directly onto the dry ice patch.
Both women scream.
Hilary Duff: (yelling in pain) Shit!!
Emma Watson: (screaming) Fuck—!!
Emma rolls off the ice holding her side, clearly burned. Hilary is also hurting badly now, breathing heavy and moving slower. The ice is visibly doing damage to both of them.
Hilary grabs Emma again, looking like she’s trying to set something up. She gets Emma in position for what looks like a power move, but as she’s lifting her, she suddenly hesitates. It looks sloppy — like she lost her grip or forgot what she was doing mid-spot.
Hilary Duff: (strained, trying to hold Emma up) Emma… I can’t—
Before she can finish, Emma reverses it. She slips out of Hilary’s grip, grabs her, and in one stiff, selfish motion drives her hard with her finisher directly onto the dry ice patch.
The impact is nasty.
Hilary Duff: (screaming, raw and uncontrolled) AHHHHHH— FUCK!! OH MY GOD!!
Hilary’s whole body reacts violently. She thrashes on the ice, screaming in real pain as the chemical burn hits her back and ass hard. She’s clearly not selling — she’s actually hurting.
Hilary Duff: (screaming, voice cracking) Get me off it!! Get me the fuck off it!!
Emma doesn’t check on her. She just drops down and hooks the leg tight.
Referee: One! Two! Three!
DING DING DING.
Emma stays on her knees for a moment, breathing hard and clearly in pain herself from the ice. She eventually gets to her feet as the referee raises her hand. Hilary is still down on the ice, writhing and holding her back as medical staff rushes out to check on her.
The crowd reaction is loud and uneasy — some people are cheering Emma’s win, but a lot of the noise is confused and concerned because of how real Hilary’s screaming sounded when she hit the ice.
End of Main Event.
This version makes the spot look like a genuine botch on Hilary’s part (she lost the power move and Emma just took over), while still protecting that Emma went into business for herself at the end. Hilary’s screaming is now much more visceral and panicked.
The bell has already rung. Emma Watson is still standing in the center of the circle as the referee raises her hand. She looks exhausted and clearly in pain, but she keeps her arm up as the crowd gives a mixed reaction — some cheers, some scattered boos, and a lot of confused noise from the half-empty building.
Hilary Duff is still down on the dry ice patch, visibly hurt. Medical staff is already with her, checking her back and trying to get her off the ice as carefully as possible. Hilary is moving slowly and grimacing in real pain.
Emma glances over at Hilary and the medical team for a second, then turns and walks out of the circle without saying anything. She heads up the ramp alone as the crowd continues to react.
The big screens light up with a simple graphic:
THANK YOU FOR ATTENDING CBWL Friday Night Filth
There’s no big pyro. No final celebration. No post-match angle. The lights stay at a low level as people start getting up from their seats and heading for the exits. The building feels even emptier now that the show is over.
In the ring area, the medical staff is still helping Hilary to her feet. She’s moving stiffly and holding her back as they walk her out through a side curtain.
The show ends with the sound of the crowd leaving and the low hum of the arena lights coming back up.
The show is over. Most of the crowd has cleared out and the building is quieting down. Cowboy Watts is standing near the loading dock area with a cigarette in his hand when two of the medical staff members approach him.
One of the doctors, a middle-aged man still in his scrubs, speaks first.
Doctor: Cowboy. Got the reports from tonight.
Cowboy takes a drag and nods for him to continue.
Doctor: Hilary Duff took the worst of it. She got significant chemical burns on her lower back, ass, and the back of her thighs from the dry ice. It’s pretty bad in a couple spots. We treated it on site but she’s gonna need proper burn care for the next week or two. She was in a lot of pain when we got to her.
Cowboy exhales smoke and rubs his face.
Cowboy Watts: Fuck. How bad we talking?
Doctor: Bad enough that she was screaming for real out there. Second-degree burns in a couple places. She’s lucky it wasn’t worse, but she’s not gonna be moving right for a while.
The second doctor chimes in.
Doctor 2: Emma Watson got burned too, but not as bad. She took some on her side and lower back when Hilary slammed her. It’s mostly first-degree with a couple spots that might blister. She’s in pain but she’s walking fine. We gave her some cream and told her to keep it clean.
Cowboy Watts: (grumbling) Jesus Christ… I knew that ice was gonna be nasty but I didn’t think it was gonna cook ‘em like that.
Doctor: It’s not regular ice. That dry ice shit is no joke when it’s sitting there that long. Both of them were hurting bad by the end.
Cowboy takes another drag and stares out toward the empty loading dock for a second.
Cowboy Watts: What about the other ones? The girls from the bathroom match?
Doctor 2: Boxxy’s got some bruising and she swallowed some water, but she’s okay. We kept an eye on her after CPR. She’s shaken up but nothing serious. Laura Prepon from the concession brawl has some cuts and bruises, nothing major. She’s already gone.
Cowboy nods slowly, still looking tired.
Cowboy Watts: Alright. Keep me updated on Hilary and Emma. Make sure they get whatever they need for the burns. Last thing I need is two girls out for weeks because we turned the floor into a goddamn hot plate.
The doctors nod and walk off. Cowboy stays where he is, smoking in silence as the arena continues to empty out behind him.
