Kimberly Williams vs. Chris Lawler

[The Matt]

2 of 2
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October 11th, 2026
Boston, Massachusetts
Off Camera
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The grey, overcast light of the crisp October morning filtered through the small, dust caked window at the far end of the second floor hallway, illuminating millions of dancing dust motes that hung suspended in the damp, stagnant air. The upper story of the old house retained the stale, dry warmth of uninsulated attics, carrying a rich smell of aged timber, brittle insulation, and old paper. The warped floorboards groaned softly underfoot, echoing through the narrow corridor as the house settled in the autumn breeze. Positioned right at the dark threshold where the second floor hallway came to a dead end stood “The Woman Scorned” Kimberly Williams and her boyfriend Tommy, their gazes locked on the narrow, shadow drenched stairwell that led up into the unfinished attic.

The door to the attic sat completely open, propped against the plaster wall by an old wooden crate filled with spare copper pipes. The steep wooden steps leading upward disappeared into an pitch black void, where the faint, cool draft blowing down smelled sharply of dry cedar, old insulation fibers, and an unmistakably wild, earthy scent. Every few seconds, the stillness of the corridor was shattered by a series of distinct, erratic rustling noises echoing down from above the ceiling joists. There was a rhythmic scratching sound, followed by the dull, unmistakable thud of a heavy creature dragging something bulky across the loose plywood subflooring overhead.

Kimberly stood at the very base of the steps, her combat boots planted wide in a firm, tactical stance. She was dressed in her standard home maintenance armor: dark brown canvas work pants tucked into her unlaced boots, a faded navy blue zip up hoodie with the sleeves pushed up to her elbows, and a thick pair of heavy leather work gloves tucked into her back pocket. Perched tilted slightly to one side on her head was her trusty pink glittery hard hat, catching the faint morning light and casting tiny, sparkling flecks across the dark wooden steps ahead of her. Her face was set in a strange mix of deep strategic contemplation and unexpected sympathy, her eyes tracking every rustle and scrape coming from the darkness above.

Standing a step behind her, leaning his broad shoulder against the doorframe, was Tommy. He wore his usual dark gray pocket shirt and heavy work trousers, carrying a heavy duty flashlight in one hand and a thick pair of animal handling gloves draped over his shoulder. His dark beard was trimmed neat, and his eyes carried the quiet, steady amusement of a man who had long since accepted that no single morning in this house would ever be simple or ordinary. Above them, another loud clunk echoed through the rafters, followed by a rapid, scurrying patter of four paws scrambling across a sheet of old drywall. Kimberly looked up at the ceiling, her brow furrowing deeply as she tapped the rim of her pink glittery helmet. She tilted her head back, addressing her boyfriend without taking her eyes off the dark attic opening.

“Do we really need to take him into custody?” Kim asks. “He’d be homeless.”

“It’s a raccoon, babe.” Tommy chuckles. “Besides, on the list of items that we still need to take care of…you know, the one from Permitting?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Kim rolls her eyes. “Rodent infestation. An INVASION!”

“Not just rodents, but anything at all could draw the attention of the city again.”

“And we just got them off our backs.” Kim sighs and shakes her head. “Oh well, no offense to the raccoon but if war must be declared, then war it shall be!”

Rung by rung The Queen of the Death Match climbs up the ladder heading to the attic space. She is the MWE World Champion and 5Lakes Grand Champion. She is the record holder in SCW for most Underground Title wins and is one world championship away from becoming SCW Supreme Champion. Kimmy is treating this raccoon operation as no less important as any of her professional wrestling bouts, including her upcoming encounter against Chris Lawler. In fact, in her twisted and warped mind, The Woman Scorned believes this is a great training opportunity for that very match. After all, Kim surmises, is there any difference in wrestling Lawler and wrestling a potentially rabid raccoon?

“Rocket!” Kim exclaims as she steps into the attic space. “Come out, come out wherever you are!”

“Rocket?” She hears Tommy calling out from downstairs. “Tell me you haven’t named him.”

“Damn it, you’re right, naming him Rocket is a bad idea.”

“Naming him isn’t necessary, Kimmy.”

“Yeah, but Rocket is a cute name. Like that raccoon from Guardians of the Galaxy.” She sighs. “I’ll give him a name that has zero sentimental value whatsoever so I won’t feel bad if I have to violently maim and crush him.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“CHRIS LAWLER!” Kim exclaims. “Come out, Chrissy, and meet your maker!”

Kimberly clicked on her high-powered tactical headlamp, sweeping the blinding beam of white light across the dusty cavern of the attic. The space was a chaotic labyrinth of exposed wooden rafters, yellow fiberglass insulation, and old cardboard boxes stacked in precarious towers. Down on her hands and knees, she crawled across the loose plywood subflooring with absolute stealth, her pink glittery helmet scraping softly against a low-hanging roof beam as her dark eyes scoured every shadow for her furry, masked adversary. A sudden, sharp rustle exploded from behind a stack of weathered window frames near the far gable end.

“I see you, Lawler!” Kimberly hissed, creeping closer. “No Franky to protect you! Just you and me and this SCW ring!”

“Actually it’s just an attic.” Tommy calls out.

“Don’t distract me…” she points “...there he is!”

There, perched atop a dusty trunk, sat a remarkably large, thoroughly agitated raccoon. The wild creature bared its sharp teeth, letting out a low, menacing hiss that echoed ominously through the tight confines of the rafters.

“Oh, so you want to lock up, huh?” Kim smirked, adjusting her leather work gloves. “This is my world! No disqualifications! Pure Underground rules!”

With a battle cry that rattled the roof shingles, The Woman Scorned lunged forward into the dark corner. The raccoon let out a startled shriek and launched itself straight at her, leading to a wild, frantic flurry of rolling, tumbling, and chaotic scrambling across the plywood. Insulation flew through the air like snow as Kim attempted to secure a double wristlock on the wriggling creature.

“He's going for a illegal headlock, Tommy! He's fighting dirty!”

“You just said it’s Underground Rules.” Tommy chuckles. “Nothing is illegal in the Underground.”

“Quit making sense!” Kim yelled down through the floorboards, wrestling the wildly snapping intruder as her hard hat tilted wildly over one eye.

The raccoon, realizing it was dealing with an opponent far more unhinged than anything it had ever encountered in the wild, executed a brilliant counter-maneuver. Slipping free from Kim’s grasp, it bolted across her back, scampered up a vertical support beam, and darted toward the tiny, unlatched attic window at the front gable.

“Oh no you don't!” Kim shouted, scrambling to her feet and diving after it.

With one final, desperate leap, the raccoon threw itself straight through the open window frame, tumbling out into the crisp morning air, landing gracefully on the sturdy branch of an adjacent oak tree, and scrambling down the trunk toward safety at record speed. Kimberly poked her head out the attic window, her pink helmet sparkling in the autumn sun as she watched her furry opponent vanish into the neighborhood. She wiped a smudge of insulation off her cheek, letting out a satisfied, victorious laugh.

“And THAT is how you clear the Underground!” she yelled out into the quiet street, turning back toward the stairs to call down to Tommy. “Mark it down, babe! Victory by forfeit! Chris Lawler doesn't stand a chance!”

“Somehow I doubt it’ll be that easy.” Tommy chuckles. “I mean, mainly because Lawler isn’t really a raccoon.”

“Oh hush!” Kim smirks knowingly. “This was exciting. Now what other infestations do I need to eliminate? I need more training!”

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October 14th, 2026
Boston, Massachusetts
On Camera
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We open to find the self-proclaimed Queen of the Death Match and hometown girl for tomorrow night’s SCW Breakdown, Kimberly Williams, standing outdoors at night. In the background there is a muted yellow-green wall. Above the wall is a dark structural framework with horizontal beams and sections of metal gridwork visible along the ceiling. A bright, square-shaped artificial light is mounted high above Kimmy, almost directly over her head. Its intense white glow creates a dramatic backlighting effect, illuminating the edges of her hair and shoulders while leaving much of her face and the front of her clothing in shadow.

The Woman Scorned is dressed entirely in black, creating a strong contrast with her fair skin and the lighter-colored ground. Her outfit consists of a fitted, sleeveless top with relatively broad shoulder straps and a square or gently rounded neckline. The top fits closely around her torso and transitions into fitted black bottoms that extend to just below her knees. On her feet, she wears black, pointed-toe high heels with delicate, thin straps that cross around the front of the feet and appear to wrap around or fasten near the ankles.

“Once again I came up short. Once again Rise To Greatness was not kind to yours truly. Hell, that’s fine. I get it, chaos rules the day. Chaos is fair. That night just wasn’t my night. I’m not going to make excuses about why I didn’t walk away as the SCW Underground Champion because that’s not my style, that’s not who I am.” Kimmy shakes her head. “So fair play to Asher for retaining at Rise To Greatness. You earned it, buddy.” Then The Woman Scorned holds up two fingers.

“Still, there’s TWO things that I don’t understand. First, why is it that when all parties involved agree on a title match, the talking heads in charge of SCW booking won’t listen? The Enigmatic Enigma had the Underground Title, AGREED to defend against me one on one, but the match was never made. Asher Hayes became champion, agreed to defend against me one on one, but instead I get saddled with a four way against Asher, Striker, and Kemal. Oh but little miss priss Bree wants a piece of Asher, not because she enjoys the Underground…quite the opposite, she hates it…but she can’t live without having some championship to define her. So she just asks for an Underground Title shot one on one and she gets it because she’s Bree Lancaster? Hell, what am I missing? Glory Braddock just pinned her ass on Breakdown. Where is Glory’s Underground Title shot? I made a career out of pinning Bree once upon a time. Where is my one on one Underground Title shot?” She shakes her head.

“No, instead I get the chance to waste Chrissy Lawler again. Now Chrissy, I’ll get to you in a moment. First I want to address the odd couple of CHBK and Franky who can’t seem to end this nonsensical pissing contest over who is the better boss. You may disagree with my methods, you may think I’m unorthodox, but you cannot deny that I get results. I hold world championships in two separate promotions and here in SCW I am ONE World Championship away from being Supreme Champion. And I also sell a crap ton of merch. I make you two and this company money. Chaos sells, boys. So if either of you want the loyalty of the one true Queen of Chaos the one true Queen of the Death Match then all you have to do is give me the one thing that everyone has been demanding to see for over a year…Kimmy getting her one on one shot at the Underground Championship. That’s how you can buy me, bitches!” She throws her head back and laughs maniacally. Then she regains her composure and points back at the camera.

“Speaking of buying people out….Chrissy Lawler. You’ve been such a loyal little soldier haven’t you? But tell me, where has it gotten you? How has your loyalty to Frank advanced your career? Despite the mountains Frank has moved only our behalf you still managed to screw up and fall flat on your face. This isn’t even the first time we’ve had this dance, is it? We’ve danced before and I beat you. That’s not even the funniest part. The real gag is that I beat you in the Shot of Adrenaline Tournament, a tournament I didn’t really care much about at the time. AND on top of that, I made you tap out. So in a match where I could have given a damn less if I won or lost, I beat you and made you tap out.” She snickers. “Pathetic.”

“Oh but now you’re facing me in MY Underground? But that’s not new for you either, is it? You have attempted to set foot into my world, my domain, and find a home here. I warned you then that you weren’t cut out for it. I told you that I was more than just a gatekeeper, that I determined who lives and dies in the Underground. You didn’t heed my warning and, as I predicted, you fell flat on your face. You must really have curried the favor of Franky because he managed to get you in that United States Championship ladder match and, yes, you failed again. Is failure your middle name or just a habit you can’t seem to shake?” She smirks devilishly.

“So now here you are coming crawling back to the Underground as a fallback. You failed everywhere else so you came back here to MY world? I see it, the rest of the world sees it, and you had better believe that the guy writing your paychecks currently, Franky, can see it. You cannot get the job done when it counts. But I can. I can get the job done when it counts in the Underground and the fact that I hold the record for most Underground Title wins proves it. I can get the job done when it counts in a straight up wrestling match and the fact that I currently hold world championships in two different promotions proves it. I’ve humiliated you before and I will humiliate you again in my hometown of Boston, Massachusetts. The real question for you, Chrissy, is how much longer will Franky tolerate your failure?” Kimmy scratches her chin as if she is in deep thought.

“Maybe this time after I put you down again you will be replaced by a far superior wrestler with red hair, female, and is slightly unhinged? Because I am in the market for what should have been mine all along, a one on one Underground Title Match. And I am willing to do anything to get it. Anything means more than just maiming you, Chrissy. Although maiming you in the Underground is certainly a perk.” She winks playfully. “See ya in Boston, Chriss! Oh and Franky, CHBK…call me!”