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Vegeta/Triple 6 vs. Steele/Julio Guerrera; Tag Team Open Challenge
Topic Started: Apr 22 2007, 10:47 PM (686 Views)
Vegeta
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Triple 6
---

The lights in the arena slowly dim to a black and an all too familiar guitar riff resonates from the speakers. The crowd members lead their seats, preparing to herald this latest entrant just as the iconic battle-cry fills the arena.

THE TIME HAS COME, IT IS QUITE CLEAR!
OUR ANTICHRIST IS ALMOST HERE!



With those words spoken, the arena explodes into a fusion of Marilyn Manson’s Antichrist Superstar and the rabid cheers of the PWA fans. The black drapes of the entryway rustle a little before being thrown back all together. From behind them steps The Antichrist Superstar himself, Triple 6. His appearance is greeted with an elevation in cheers, to which he can’t help but smirk at. He begins his descent down the ramp, clad in his traditional attire: a black leather jacket, a vintage Forsworn t-shirt, and a pair of weathered blue jeans. The Heartstopper climbs the ring steps, entering the ring for the first time in quite awhile. He resists the urge to play to the crowd, instead retreating to a turnbuckle on the side of the ring farthest from the ramp, reclining against it as the referee goes through his pre-match ritual. Meanwhile, the ring announcer formally introduces him to the crowd, as if an introduction is needed.

Announcer: Weighing in at two-hundred and eighty pounds, hailing from Chicago, Illinois… Trrrrrrrrrriple SIX!

The Father of the Forsworn steps out from his sanctuary for a brief moment to acknowledge the crowd’s cheers, but he just as soon returns to it. It’s clear he’s more than ready to just get the match underway.

---
Vegeta
---

With the entire card almost in the books, we find ourselves down to the very last match of the evening. As the fans sit and await the arrival of The Icon, they wait no longer as In the End by Linkin Park hits the PA system!

It starts with one thing,
I don't know why?
It doesn't even matter how hard you try.
Keep that in mind,
I designed this rhyme to explain in due time,
All I know,
Time is a valuable thing.
Watch it fly by as the pendulum swings,
Watch it count down to the end of the day
The clock ticks life away,
It's so unreal.
Didn't look out below,
Watch the time go right out the window,
Trying to hold on, but didn't even know,
Wasted it all just to watch you gooo...

Announcer: Weighing in at two hundred and forty-six pounds, standing at six feet three inches tall, he resides in New Jersey. He is The Icon, The Showstopper, he is...VEGETA!!!

Emerging from behind the curtain, Vegeta stands tall as the sold out crowd shows him their support, cheering and clapping for him as loud as they can. With his normal ring attire, the lime green shirt with "The Icon" enscipted upon it with the black spandex shorts and the black and lime boots, The Showstopper struts his stuff as he walks down the ramp, enjoying each and every moment for what it's worth.

I kept everything inside and even though I tried,
It all fell apart.
What it meant to me will eventually be a memory of a time when,
I tried so hard,
And got so far.
But in the end,
It doesn't even matter.
I had to fall,
To lose it all.
But in the end,
It doesn't even matterrrr.

Slapping hands with the fans as they reach over the ring barrier, Vegeta continues along the steel ramp until he reaches the bottom of it. Walking up to the ring, the veteran shows his athletism as he leaps onto the apron with one giant jump. Dancing along the apron, Vegeta entertains the crowd before entering the ring. Diving underneath the top and middle ropes, the Hall of Famer enters the squared circle onto to spin around with his arms held in the air. He works his way to the center of the ring and he finally stands still.

One thing, I don't know why,
It doesn’t even matter how hard you try.
Keep that in mind,
I designed this rhyme, to explain in due time.
I tried so hard,
In spite of the way you were mocking me.
Acting like I was part of your property.
Remembering all the times you fought with me.
I'm surprised it got so far.
Things aren't the way they were before.
You wouldn't even recognize me anymore.
Not that you knew me back then,
But it all comes back to me.
In the endddddd...

Lunging to his right side, Vegeta lifts his fists up to around his eye level as lime fireworks shoot off behind him as he flexes for the crowd in the middle of the ring. The fireworks come to an end and Vegeta stands tall. His music slowly fades out as the referee walks over to him, patting him down to make sure he doesn't have any illegal objects. After finding him clean, the referee backs away, allowing Vegeta to climb the to the middle turnbuckle to raise his hands high above his head. The crowd eats this up, continuing to cheer for him. Putting the entertaining part in his backpocket, Vegeta puts on his gameface as he mentally prepares himself for this bout.

The two men stand united in the ring as the ring announcer hands Vegeta a microphone.

Vegeta: Triple 6 and I stand here, looking to take on any two men who are man enough to step up to our challenge. We don't care if you're a rookie, someone coming out of retirement, a veteran, or even someone apart of Wrestling And Revolution or Steele's group. We stand before you all, calling out any two men who have the balls to go toe to toe with us. We're not going anywhere until our we get a pair of wrestlers out here, and if we have to, we'll wait all night!

--------
Steele
--------
The arena lights fade for a moment, the crowd knowing what's left jump to their feet and start to boo loudly even before the first and most memorable guitar riff starts to play into the PA system. However, the show continues. 5 years in the making, one of the most familiar, and hated theme's in PWA starts to play loudly. It's recognized as "Here To Stay" by KoRn signaling the entrance of the "Franchise" Chaz Steele. He appears on the top of the ramp as the lyrics cut into the song. Vegeta's son is right there with him, following the "Franchise" through thick, and thin as he's stated he would. Steele, after playing the part of a parapalegic for the last couple of months looks to be in stellar shape. Walking to the ring slowly, his hair having grown back sways back and forth slightly, not really long enough to do it freely. The crowd's heat grows ever hotter with each step made towards the ring. Ignoring it all, Steele stares into the squared-circle, thinking back on the many battles that have taken place in that spot for him.

This time, taking it away
I've got a problem, with me getting in the way,
Not by design
So I take my face and bash it into a mirror.
I won't have to see the pain (bleed, bleed)

This state is elevating, as the hurt turns into hating.
Anticipating, all the fucked up feelings again.

The hurt inside is fading
This shit's gone way too far.
All this time I've been waiting
No I can not grieve anymore.
For once inside awaking.
I'm done, I'm not a whore.
You've taken everything and, oh, I cannot give anymore.


As the lyrics come through the chorus the "Franchise" races to the ring and slides in underneath the bottom rope, showing no respect to the ring announcer, he walks right to the center of the ring and shoves the well dressed man out of the way. Taking his place, a scruffy bearded, cut up denim jean, heavily taped up wrists and fists, and an old Misfits t-shirt with the sleeves cut off, PWA superstar. He lowers his head, the announcer still however chimes in with the official introduction.

Ring Announcer - Aaaaaand their opponent, standing in the ring weighing in at two hundred and sixty pounds, from Atlanta Georgia, the Franchise CHAZ STEELE!

The heat gets even louder, Vegeta's son walks over to Steele's corner and takes his place outside the ring. Chaz hopes that this will give him the psychological advantage in the match, thus taking half of the fight before the bell even rings. However, as the music slowly fades out he walks to his corner, knowing that even with this "advantage" tonight's match will be no walk in the park. He lowers his head and peers out at his two adversaries, a smirk on his face as the Franchise just shakes his head, stunning not only the Icon, but the Antichrist Superstar himself. Steele points up to the top of the ramp, whilst the audience watch on with much interest, not knowing just who to expect to come through the curtains.

--------
Julio Guerrera
--------

Much to the fans surprised, the song they hear next is not Razer's, not is it Alex Giltinane's or even Brandon Hawk's. Instead, they are surprised to hear the words "I hope they never forget me.." coming out of the speakers. Those words are quickly followed by the rest of Julio Guerrera's new theme song, Bone Thugs-N-Harmony's "Never Forget Me".

Going thru the struggles everyday on this pavement
an every hood I see em doin the same
there's alot of haters that don't want me to make it
all I want is for you to remember my name
So that you never forget me
So that you never forget me ohhhhuhhhohhh
So that you never forget me
So that you never forget me ohhhhuhhhohhh

My reputection is solid yall n my street credits unpolished yall
known as a lil boss hawk in the hood boy in my hood imma superstar
niggaz in the pen tryna hold a nigga down but I put in my work in check it check it
nah these niggaz respect it knowin im the wrong one they wanna mess wit
from the gutter wit my brothers doin these ghetto streets they don't love us
lettin these undercovers these motha fuckers doin everything they tryna bust us
but these suckaz know they cant touch us they envy deep in they hearts
if they eva try to rush us nigga they know we gone rip em apart
niggaz go hard from the start nigga this nina ross is my body guard
fuck wit mine an ill charge lil krayzy ass nigga at large
pullin cards on these lame niggas ill neva let go of my heat
yea stand up man on his feet lil layzies bone and them 3...memba me

Going thru the struggles everyday on this pavement
an every hood I see em doin the same
there's alot of haters that don't want me to make it
all I want is for you to remember my name
So that you never forget me
So that you never forget me ohhhhuhhhohhh
So that you never forget me
So that you never forget me ohhhhuhhhohhh

we be, poppin collas, throwin dollas indeed
in the hood getting money, Boi I got what you need
Hah we hott, you cold, that ice, on froze that six,
whole chrome, them bricks, they glow
drop yo crisp cases, and watch drop them big faces
leaning like a thug, hittin the club throwin big faces
This is for them dope boys choppin in the trunk goods
welcome to ma hood, hood, home of the dope boys

Going thru the struggles everyday on this pavement
an every hood I see em doin the same
there's alot of haters that don't want me to make it
all I want is for you to remember my name
So that you never forget me
So that you never forget me ohhhhuhhhohhh
So that you never forget me
So that you never forget me ohhhhuhhhohhh

Remix!
Pull a gun out on me, I'ma say lets ga
You'z a snitch I seen you testify
No you aint, you aint a G, You don't rep the style
Low nigga you a P.U.S.S.Y. you pussy
ey yo was poppin, poppin, crackin, crackin
he yappin, yap em, if it happen, happen,
caught you rattin, so cock it back and know this hammer talk
he ain't letting this hammer off,
they was on that side of the street, heat,
I ran across, like who had floss,
man em niggas was scared to talk
five puddles of death in the flesh
I am new york, got a brand new hammer
ask me how much that hammer cost,
imma tell you I detonated it, man ofcourse
It's something like I put my rachet to the statue of liberty, oh

Now that Julio finds himself in the squared circle, the song has no choice but to cut out just as soon as the last set of lyrics were to begin.

DING DING DING!
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Steele
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Truly shocking, are the only words to describe the events that have just transpired to turn this episode of Insanity from what would be described as a regular old run of the mill Monday night episode, into a memorable one with possible epic proportions. The four Pojo Wrestling legends stare each other down across the ring, before a march to the center transpires. Vegeta and Steele nose to nose, whilst Julio and Triple Six jaw at one another from about an arms length. It doesn't take long to establish who the heels are here, as the tandem of Julio and Steele break from their positions and draw their arms up, Julio on a crash course with Vegeta, and Steele on the same track with the Antichrist Superstar. Julio's forearm slams into the jaw of the Icon, sending him sprawling to the mat. And in an act of synchronized arts, Steele's elbow meets the cheek of the Father of Forsworn, sending him to the mat much like his partner, before him. The pain in Triple Six's face is apparent, by the haste in which he draws his arm up and rolls out of the ring, merely on instinct, to get away from that which has hurt him. Little does he realize though, he's just left his partner alone, in the ring with two men that could care less the damage that tolls on another man. Since the official has no clue as to who the legal man is, he struggles with both Julio and Steele, while on the outside of the ring, Vegeta's son makes his way around to the down carcass of the submission specialist. The young man draws his leg up and slams it down into the throat of Triple Six, before holding it there, grinding his heel back and forth as if he were trying to stamp out the life of a discarded cigarette. Triple Six draws his arms up and wraps his fingers around the heel of the Junior, not as if to try and escape, more so as an attempt to relieve the pressure on his wind pipes. Meanwhile back inside the ring, the referee seems to have gotten some sort of order. And the reunited one-time World Tag Team Champions, seem to be showing some of that old teamwork. Steele exits the ring, taking his place on the apron, whilst Julio is left to deal with the Owner, as he starts to pull himself back to his feet, shaking his head to clear it of any cobwebs. As the official circles the ring, the son of Vegeta backs off, to not get his team into any trouble. It's apparent that Triple Six isn't critically wounded, however he's been somewhat taken out of the equation for now, giving the two antagonists a distinct advantage. Julio crouches down and charges at Vegeta, who despite being back to a vertical base, is a little dazed still, being completely blindsided by that attack at the start. Within striking range, Julio leaps off of the mat and draws his legs back, holding his knees close to his chest before pumping them out like a piston come to life, slamming his boots into the chest of the Icon with a running drop-kick that sucks the air right from the lungs of Vegeta. The cocky veteran stumbles backwards a couple of steps, but the speedy BRUTE Guerrera hops right back to his feet and circles around, not having time for the running start, he simply leaps off of the mat and draws his legs back again, repeating the process - however this time, he slams his feet into the back of the Icon. Vegeta finds his backward motion, reversed. Sending him straight into no-mans land; or the corner of the former World Tag Team Champions. And it's met with a most unpleasant greeting. As Steele hops up on the bottom rope and leans into the ring, slamming his elbow point blank into the bridge of Vegeta's nose. The Former World Champion takes two steps back, and draws his arms up, cupping his nose with both hands, as his eyes roll into the back of his head, his face now encased in a veil of burning pain.

Johnny - Well this sure has turned into more than what any of us could have imagined it would be like. And I have to say, that so far the team of Steele and Julio Guerrera seem to be firing on all cylinders. Maybe Vegeta and Triple Six are a little rusty to tag team competition?

Donny - Who cares!? The most important thing is that they have the advantage. And lets not forget, they are former Tag Team Champions together, Julio and Steele - while they might not be the best of friends. Know each others style very well.

Julio walks over and yanks Vegeta to his feet, by the back of his neck. The WAR leader drapes one of Vegeta's arms over the back of his neck and draws his free hand back, balling it into a firm fist before pumping it forward, slamming it right into the ribs of the Icon, which draws him onto his tip toes. Julio reaches down and hooks the trunks, before drawing Vegeta up off of his feet, and back around quickly, slamming his back into the punishing canvas with a quick snap suplex to further wind the aging superstar. Julio leaps up and walks over to Steele, smacking his hand. The official confirms the change of authority in the heel's corner, and the Franchise slides into the ring. Seeing the struggling Triple Six, resting on the canvas. Steele looks down at Vegeta, knowing that the key to victory will be keeping these two slowed down. Sensing that Vegeta is probably in a worse way than Triple Six right now, the Franchise turns his attention to the Antichrist Superstar. Steele charges across the ring, hoping to catch Trips with his head down, however that would not prove to be the case. Sensing the vibrations in the ring, Triple Six looks up, and sees it just in enough time to evade the oncoming attack. Side-stepping to his left, Triple Six leans forward and wraps an arm around the back of the neck of the four-time World Champion, and leaps off the canvas. The frame of the Franchise can't resist the weight and he's left to hang out and dry over the top rope; before Triple Six releases, sending Steele's torso up in a slingshot effect that nearly pulls him off of his feet before he's knocked back down onto the canvas. In his own corner, his partner watches with disgust, showing his disdain for the actions in the ring by slapping the top turnbuckle nearest him. Julio shakes his head and then starts to shout words of encouragement to his down ally, while Triple Six climbs back onto the apron, apparently re-energized now. Perhaps that surprise attack by Steele to try and slow down the opposition had the opposite effect. Now the submission specialist turns to the greatest form of support for the Icon, his fans. Triple Six starts to rally the troops, as screams and cheers of "Ve-Ge-TA" start to fill the hollow halls, with an echoing effect. Julio turns his back on the action and starts to wave his arms, and pull them in a downward motion, to try and quieten the crowd, but they could care less. Their chants continue, and it seems to have some kind of effect, Vegeta slowly rises to his feet, and although he's up, he's not all there. He makes his way to his corner, wisely. And makes the tag, the official signals for the legal swap, and the second round of this bout is about to get underway.
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Triple 6
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This is the moment The Heartstopper has anticipated, the moment he eagerly awaited from the second the first notes of Here to Stay were played this evening. The Franchise weakly crawls towards his corner; or, at least, he crawls away from the corner of Triple 6 and Vegeta. The Antichrist Superstar restrains himself from the temptation to gloat in this moment, knowing full well that stroking his ego now could lead to it being bruised later on. He has to admit, though; the sight of a four-time World Champion squirming across the canvas is almost enough to make him chuckle. Triple 6 stalks towards the worm formerly known as Chaz Steele, devious fantasies dancing in his head. He quickens his pace just a tad once he realizes just how close the villain has come to reaching his partner. Not close enough, though. Steele can hear the footsteps closing in on him, so he’s hardly surprised when a burly hand snares him by the ankle. He tries to claw at the canvas to prevent himself from being dragged to the center of the ring, but his efforts are half-hearted at best. He’s aware that it’s more or less inevitable. In the center of the ring is where he will put up his fight.

The Corpsemaker attempts to roll his prey onto his back, but Steele is having none of it. He thrashes around like a bratty child, flailing at his aggressor with arm and leg. Triple 6 responds in turn, acting as the abusive parent of said bratty child, battering his adversary’s face with a barrage of belligerent Forearm Shots. The passion in Steele’s resilience fades with every incoming blow, until finally his thrashing comes to a lull. Good boy. Now for playtime.

The games start off with Triple 6 elevating Steele’s left leg off of the canvas. He steps over this uplifted appendage with his own leg before collapsing back to the canvas. Once on the ring floor once more, he uses his own two legs to craft a vice around Steele’s, locking it in place with a set of Leg Scissors. While independently, such a “submission” (if you’d like to refer to it as such) is hardly one that dishes out damage, when coupled with another dastardly hold it can create a near inescapable situation. That is exactly the situation that The Heartstopper hopes to create. His fingers trace over his captive’s ankle, eventually interlacing with one another and crafting an Achilles Tendon Hold. The reaction is immediate and substantial: an anguished growl that fleets past the lips of The Franchise. This cry from one man should quickly be lost amongst the buzz from the crowd, yet somehow it’s not. Somehow this lone man’s pain-filled harmonics resonate above the noise of a couple thousand. Everyone hears it, from the fans in the front row to those up in the nosebleeds. Even the viewers at home can hear the wails; unless they’ve already muted the television set to spare the children. Triple 6 has become an engine. He intakes the howls of his nemesis and uses them as fuel. It stirs a reaction inside him, firing him up and allowing him to channel even more vigor into the crippling hold he has devised. Things certainly seem to be going the way of the Heartstopper. That is, until Julio Guerrera decides to take matters into his own hands.

The Messiah descends from above. To The Franchise, he appears as an Angel of Salvation. To Triple 6, an Angel of Death. His body is aligned perfectly vertically, his knees tucked inwards to his chest. He almost seems to be a child performing a cannonball dive into his backyard pool. The childish innocence quickly evaporates as, just before impact, Julio shoots his legs out before him, extending them to their fullest. The resulting blow seismic. The target of this Double Stomp? The back of Triple 6’s skull. It’s a ghastly sight, to say the least. Silence falls over the crowd; most of its members have lost their breath. They watch as The Heartstopper’s submission unravels and his limbs fall limp. If it weren’t for his eyelids rapidly shuttering open and shut, they’d question if he was still alive. The fans may not be doctors, but they all feel confident in diagnosing the situation as a possible concussion. The Antichrist Superstar flops onto his back like a fish out of water, and just as helpless as one. The referee berates Guerrera for his illegal actions, but the WAR leader is unconcerned. He ignores the angered babblings of the referee and coolly returns to his spot on the ring apron. For now. Who knows when he’ll have to intervene again?

Johnny: Can you believe that?! The nerve of Julio Guerrera! The recklessness! He could have very well ended Triple 6’s career right then and there! It’s disgusting! Disgusting! I’m absolutely repulsed, and I feel sick to my stomach.

Donny: Oh, shut the hell up! You know what this match is? An open challenge! When these two arrogant brutes issued their egotistical challenge, they should have been prepared to face off against someone who wasn’t willing to follow the rules. They should have known someone from WAR or Steele’s faction would accept. I mean, it’s their perfect opportunity. I, for one, applaud Steele and Julio for using their heads where Triple 6 and our owner did not.

From the apron, Vegeta clenches his fist in rage. While his lips are pursed tight, you can be damn sure his enamel is being worn away, his teeth grinding against each other in frustration. The carnage that meets his eyes makes him feel similar to Johnny: utterly nauseated. Just when he thinks there’s nothing these two men can do to amplify his hatred of them, they go and raise the bar yet again. He’d almost be impressed if it were not so repugnant. While The Icon is brimming with a flurry of emotions, his tag partner is just the opposite. His motor functions have shut down completely. He drifts in an out of consciousness. He feels almost like an amnesiac, completely unaware of what’s going on around him or how he came to be in this position. All he remembers is that crushing blow and the unbridled agony that accompanied it.

Steele, on the other hand, is aware of what’s happening, and he could not be more grateful for his partner’s intervention. The pain in his foot is still ripe, but at least it’s been prevented from blossoming. He should still be able to walk on it, at least, and thank god for that. Losing a limb this early in the game could be disastrous. Eager to test his appendage’s vitality, he crawls to the edge of the ring where he uses the fabled nylons to assist him in regaining a vertical base. He puts weight on the foot, little by little. He does peel some sharp bolts of agony flare up, but no more than he expected. Steele counts himself lucky on this one, and can only hope that such fortune will persist. Now, to test the luck of his enemy…

The Franchise’s target has been painted for him. There’s no way he could not focus his assault on the ailing head of Triple 6. It’s too big of an advantage to let it simply slip away. He saunters over to the cadaver, the fires of tenacity blazing in his eyes. Kneeling on the canvas, Steele rolls his lifeless opponent over and onto his belly. The Antichrist Superstar does not resist; he cannot. Steele’s arm slides along the side of this corpse’s neck like a serpent, just as venomous as one though infinitely more resourceful. The self-deposed World champion aligns his body parallel to that of his victim and then rears back. The Dragon Clutch is a submission that seems tailored specifically for these circumstances. Every area afflicted by Julio’s aerial assault can be worked by this particular vice, and some others that have yet to feel pain. To some, it is seen as overkill. To Chaz Steele, it is not nearly enough.

OOC: Should be a fun match, it's already given me a lot more motivation than usual. Good luck, guys.
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Vegeta
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From the very start of this match, one has to conclude that the former Tag Champions have been in total control of this open challenge. Had it not been for their sneaky divide and conquer tactics just ten minutes ago, who knows what would have happened. But the fact is, what’s happened has happened and the fans now find themselves with butterflies in their stomach- mainly due to the fact that most of them have come to the realization that the two most loved individuals in Pojo Wrestling Alliance history have finally teamed up, but by the look of things, their future in this bout sure doesn’t look so great. Restoring the light back into crowd’s eyes, ridding their bellies of the nervousness and replacing it was faith, The Icon storms into the ring with his eyes glued to the man manhandling his partner. Having seen enough of this one-sided match, Vegeta does exactly what Julio Guerrera did earlier, but instead of a ruthless attack from the top rope, he simply walks over to Steele, lifts his leg into the air and stomps the sole of his black boot deep into the cranium of his archrival. Before he’s able to repeat this process, the quick referee intervenes and creates space between the two Hall of Famers. But that’s irrelevant. The main point is that Vegeta’s vindictive cheap shot had enough force behind it to break the ruthless submission Steele had applied on Triple 6. Clearly, it hasn’t completely knocked him off course, but it does buy time for the Chicago native. Being forced back to his respective corner, The Showstopper exit’s the ring whilst on the other side over the squared circle, Julio Guerrera is fuming. The WAR leader spews vulgar rhetoric directed at the man sporting the white and black stripped shirt, while his partner slowly rises to his feet after having sustained a swift stomp to his skull. Once to an upright position, a feeling of vexation marinates through Steele's body, quickly rising to a level so intense he explodes. Unfortunately for the PWA Owner, his courageous efforts to aid his partner have only made The Franchise even more sinister than he was moments ago!

Johnny: Look at that man’s face, look at his eyes! Donny, this can’t be good for the fan favorites.

Donny: Those unwarranted actions by Vegeta evidently did more harm, than good. Show him whose boss Steele!

The cohesive unit which was just formed last Monday in order to protect this company, has undoubtedly just bitten off more than they can chew. As the blood circulating through Steele’s veins begins to boil, he stares down his Boss, at the same time, allowing the former Father of Forsworn to get up on his own efforts. Struggling to just regain his equilibrium, Triple 6 manages to rise to a vertical base- which isn’t the best idea for him right now because what proceeds him is bound to be horrible. His valiant efforts in standing up are thwarted by the pitiless aggressor, who hovers over his flimsy opponent and delivers a few jabs for good measure to keep him winded and on his toes, unable to fight back against his ever-oppressive offense. Continuing this process, his forceful punches have backed The Antichrist Superstar into the ropes. His eyes glare up at the Sergeant, who is fueled by unfaltering rage and aggression. Suddenly, a force upon his chest pushes him back against the elasticity of the tightly-bound nylon threads, his legs tilting as his body rests against the ropes. Almost as if by a slingshot, Triple 6 is thrusted toward the opposite side of the ring, his legs stomping across the canvas at an alarming rate as a result of the force of the strength which Steele asserted behind the Irish whip. Before he can even tell the difference, The Heartstopper finds himself on the opposite end of the ring, turning about to absorb the energy from the ropes as they launch him back toward his ominous predator, who stands tall awaiting the arrival of his counterpart. He finds himself locked up in the grasp of the former World Champion, the strong man’s arms wrapped tightly around his waist. Trapped like a rat, his face abruptly receives an expression of fear as he is helpless to fight out of this predicament. He is lifted over Chaz’s head with ease, released at a peak in the toss, and is arched through the air. Cameras go off left and right, hundreds of flashes filling the arena with light as Triple 6 ingloriously descends toward the mat, where he lands with great impact onto his head and neck, folding onto his back afterwards. Such a perfectly executed overhead belly-to-belly suplex has not only given the bad guys more of an edge in this match, but it also shows how dominant they’ve been, and seemingly enough, will continue to be if Triple 6 can’t mount some sort of offense.

Johnny: Look at that conniving jerk laughing! Just a few moments ago, Julio was complaining and now that the match is going his way, he’s all happy. That makes me sick!

Donny: What makes me sick is the fact that Vegeta and Triple 6 think by teaming, they’ll be able to save PWA from it’s demise. Well let me tell you what Johnny, as much as I don’t want to admit it, it’s fate. Sadly, this match is proof enough for me.

Johnny: It’s not over till it’s over. Don’t count them out just yet, their both resilient and have a history of overcoming odds.

Combined, Triple 6 and Vegeta have held more titles, have had more accomplishments, and are arguably two of the greatest wrestlers to ever grace a ring in the illustrious history of the PWA. But the question at hand is, with so much greatness as a combination, why has this duo been prominently dominated by Steele and Julio Guerrera? One could blame the malicious occurrence at the start of this match, another could point the finger at The Messiah’s devious top rope double stomp, or maybe it’s the fact that Triple 6 hasn’t had an opportunity to make a tag to his fresh partner. Well regardless, we still find ourselves back to where we left off- the antagonists controlling every aspect of this bout as Steele yanks his adversary to his feet, plotting how to continue this physical dissection. Placing his hand outward, initiating the tag to his partner, Steele’s request is answered as his palm is smacked by Julio’s. The official signals a tag has been made, as the hyenas bury Triple 6 into their corner, looking to pick him apart like the animals they are. As if he were a punching bag, the two villains take turns, winding back as far as they and unleashing wicked right hooks, one after another straight to their opponent’s cheekbones. The fans of this sold out Cam Henderson Center begin rallying behind Triple 6, stomping their feet in front of them and clapping to somehow build his adrenaline. But no matter how much they cheer, Steele and Julio’s double teaming strategy is just to much for any man to overcome. Thinking twice, not wanting to do more harm than good like before, Vegeta eventually decides to rush to his partner’s side, but this time, hoping the outcome will benefit them. Wasting no time to enter the ring, The Icon treads across the canvas looking to make the save. As if there were a stampede behind him, Julio can not only feel, but he can hear what’s coming. The founder of WAR pivots on his heels, notices his employer charging at him and decides to fight fire with fire. He sprints out from within the corner and towards Vegeta, but his quick decision seems to have been the wrong one. Levitating from his feet, he soars through across the ring and crashes against the two hundred and forty pound frame of Guerrera, taking him down with a nicely executed Lou Thesz press. Following the takedown with a fury of punches, his attack comes to a halt as he can see Sgt. Steele’s legs coming towards his direction! With Triple 6 lying in a comatose-like heap against the corner and Julio taken out of the fight for now, Vegeta pops upward to his feet, preparing himself to go toe to toe with his nemesis in yet another epic showdown. As the two draw closer to one another, the fans rise to their feet while the referee walks around the ring franticly, realizing how he has lost total control of this match!
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The Jesus
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Johnny: "Fans, you may not get Vegeta versus Steele at Three Hours of Power, but we got it for you guys right here, tonight, free of charge!"

A blustery right fist from the Sergeant, however, manages to kill what hope the fans had of seeing a potential re-match of Pandemonium's main event. The fierce fist is surprising not only because of the quickness of it's execution, but also because of the resounding success. The strike, simple as it may be, stuns The Icon just enough to make the inevitable encounter with his arch nemesis a futile attempt at battle and, fully knowing this, Vegeta decides to instead back off. At least, his head forces him to back off - his heart, as always, was willing to go to war, win or lose. Vegeta's body bolts towards and off of the nylon-covered cable wires, the venomous rope-amplified dash of The Icon's returning to it's point of origin. His heart seems to have won his own internal struggle, the former World Champion not even bothering to second-think his actions as his right arm billows out to the side of him and strikes Steele with a weak lariat; Vegeta's respond to the earlier blow. Steele, oh-so-obviously acting with the simple intent of feeding his own ego, shows no signs of discontinuing this particular skirmish despite his earlier actions. His hand, once again, balls itself into a fist and makes contact with Vegeta's cheek bone, leaving behind only a rosy-pink hand print in the general area his knuckles once occupied. And once again, despite the poignant grittiness of the Sergeant's attack, The Showstopper responds to the strike with a blow of his own. The heart once again takes control of Vegeta's appendages, the mythical counter-part to The Icon's vascular organ forcing the owner of PWA to charge at and bounce off of the ropes once again. This time, however, his weaponof choice is not a lariat. Instead, Vegeta decides to counter the Sarge's gritty arsenal with his own prestine counter-part. It seems that the two are polar opposites even in combat. A perfectly executed Dropkick sadly puts an end to this skirmish before it could rightfully escalate to a battle, Steele's body having no way to counter the sudden momentum created by Vegeta's attack and having no choice but to crash into the canvas as a result. Unfortunately, although Vegeta has managed to temporarily surmount the mountain that is Chaz Steele, he still has the explosive, spit-fire volcano that is Julio Guerrera to deal with and apparently has no way to hinder a sudden attempt by Julio to crush Vegeta's growing momentum; The Messiah appears out of seemingly nowhere and manages to wrap his arms around the waist of a cretinous Vegeta with relative ease and, having done that, the coming part - El Malvado actually lifting his prey up into the air and slamming him into the ground - seems almost like child's play. The Brute floors Vegeta with his disquieting Back Drop Suplex. And just when Vegeta seemed to be well on his way to bringing the ball into his team's court. Suddenly rejuvenated, evidently as a direct result of his partner's current short comings as a savior, the Father of the Forsworn lifts himself onto his feet in a single motion - by grabbing onto the two perpendicular-angled top ropes and lifting himself out of the corner, a motion usually attributed to one of the Father's current opponents, The Franchise. He lifts himself up and finds himself staring straight into the eyes of The Brute.

Donny: "There's no resting in this match, brother! You knock one down, and his partner stands up to replace him! This is great!"

Johnny: "The tenacity of these four men definitely must be admired, Donny."

Although there is much to be said about the rivalry that Chaz and Vegeta are currently embroiled in, the history between Triple 6 and Julio Guerrera is definitely not to be taken lightly. Although the bulk of their feud occured years ago, the repercussions of said rivalry can still be felt to this day. Their rivalry both took and stole from PWA - it presented PWA with the very first dog-less Kennel To Hell match in professional wrestling history, but also ended the career of Triple 6's partner, Sambo, and ended the apparent stranglehold that Death Metal had on the early years of PWA's tag team division. Of course, some may say Julio liberated Triple 6 - it was, in fact, less than six months after Sambo's untimely exit from this organization at the hands of Guerrera that Triple 6 found himself as the victor of WrestleFest, a victory which is now commonly seen as the origin of The Corpesmaker's now epic rise to the topc and succeedinging dominance. There is a chance, they say, that had Julio not taken out Sambo, Triple 6 would have never of had the chance to shine as much as he did - he never would have claimed the PWA World Title as his, he never would have formed The Forsworn, and, perhaps, neither Deception nor Organon, without a doubt the two most prominent members of The Forsworn besides Triple 6 himself, would have enjoyed their own reigns at the top of the ladder.

Of course, none of that matters now - at least not to Triple 6. And if it does, he definitely does not show it; his face, instead, is contorted into a callous smirk at he stares at his opponent. A devilish smile, if you will. The Corpsemaker begins the process of exiting the corner which temporarily became his abode. He takes a step forward and, surprisingly enough, Julio takes a step backwards. It seems the devilish smirk of his has worked like a charm. A second step forward by PWA's Eliot Ness is followed by a second step backwards by PWA's Che Guevara. A third step forward is met with pretty much the same results, with only one single exception. Instead of keeping his eyes fixated on PWA's self-proclaimed saviour, The Messiah pivots his neck from side to side, quite obviously embarassed for his own gutless actions. And that distraction was exactly what The Antichrist Superstar wanted. A surprise burst of agility propels the two hundred and eighty pound frame of the Chicago native forward, his body contorting itself into it's battle stance before The Heartstopper even crossed the ring's mid-point. His pre-emptive preparations seem to work out for the best, although, of course, if the cowardness that Julio showed in the preceding seconds are anything to go by, Guerrera was defeated before Triple 6 even laid an finger on him. The Messiah's two hundred and forty pound frame slams into one of the turnbuckles, his body simply not willing to withstand The Corpsemaker's knee strike, at least not to the point where it would actually remain standing after such a strike.

Johnny: "And Guerrera just got the wind knocked out of him by Triple 6..."

Donny: "Not good, Johnny! Not good!"

It's actually kind of shocking to see Julio Guerrera get out-maneuevered on such a large scale by Triple 6, especially after how easily he was able to seemingly dispose of Vegeta. And, as anybody who has watched more than a single Heartstopper match can tell you, the knee strike is only the beginning. A series of left and rights ignite Guerrera's chin, The Best from the West certainly not living up to his namesake at this point in time. It's not clear whether Triple 6's fury of punches is fueled by the ever-growing commotion that the crowd is beginning to produce, or if it's the other way around, but the fact of the matter is that, following each strike, the West Virginians become more and more ear-deafening. And then El Malvado dips the tips of his fingers into his attacker's eyes. And just like that, the near-psychotic amount of cheers and cat-calls the Huntington residents were emitting is replace by nothing but hate-filled "boooooo!"'s. They're so overwhelming, in fact, that Guerrera has no choice but to address the fans and ignore his opponent. He glances from one side to the other before simply lifing up his arms, and erecting both of his middle fingers into the airs. Obviously, this does nothing but add to the jeers currently being thrown at Guerrera's way. And, obviously, this does nothing to capitalise on the window of opportunity that Guerrera created for himself through his illegal eye poke. So, when Julio finally decides to let the fans be and instead return his focus to The Corpsemaker, the spectators aren't at all surprised to see a European Uppercut ending the WAR leader's short comeback before it could truly get off the ground.

Triple 6 resumes his onslaught of lefts and rights. Given the vigor of each strike, it seems he remembers Sambo after all.

Donny: "Those are closed fists, that's not fair!"
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Certainly not a sight for the faint-hearted, Julio continues to absorb punch after vicious punch from the enigmatic Triple Six. However, one thing that is lost in all of this, and even so to Triple Six, surprisingly enough. Is that the motions of the actions in the ring have shifted course, and the two men are now heading back to the corner of the former Tag Team Champions - a place that Triple Six surely would not want to find himself. Some semblance of order has been restored, Vegeta has rolled out of the ring and propped himself up, the Franchise is resting in his respective corner, watching the actions inside the ropes as they transpire. And just when he thought it was time to take a break, this sweet, irresistible morsel presents itself. The two figures come backing into the corner, much like a Mack Truck would, sloppy and not quite centered. But that means squat to the Franchise. With a quick showing of his dexterity, and Eagle like precision, Chaz leans forward firing a shot that whizzes past the ear of his partner, and right into the left eye of the Iconoclast. Having not seen what hit him, the assault on Julio stops post haste, and Triple Six staggers back to the center of the ring, drawing his arm up he places the palm of his hand over his eye, in an attempt to quell the sudden surge of burning heat that is associated with a fresh wound to the body. He looks first down to his boots, and then back up at the corner of his opponents. Even though he hadn't seen what happened to him, he had a very, very good idea. And that suspicion turns out to be truth, when Steele basically admits to it by swiping his fingertips off of his chin, before he reaches down and slams the shoulder of his partner. The official signals that the unorthodox tag is in fact legit, and the Franchise leaps over the top rope. However, his showboating catches up to him, as the ankle that Triple Six had been working on earlier, buckles from the sudden drop in weight on it. This is all the time that he needed, Triple Six pulls his arm back down and charges in towards the Franchise. Steele tries to sprint out of the way but he can't. Triple Six slams his large shoulder into the abdomen of the Franchise, a move that not only winds him, but bends him in half. The Corpsemaker pushes forward, with a running shoulder block that carries Steele back to his corner. In a two-for-one deal, Julio Guerrera was still trying to exit the ring, the force of the two men hitting him in his blind spot sends the Brute spilling to the outside, slamming into the mats with an audible thud. Vegeta's son quickly runs over to try and get the revolutionary leader back to his feet. Meanwhile inside the ring, the action continues. Triple Six, rather blinded by rage, or just tired of the cheap shots by these two, looks to exact some revenge on Steele. And looks to be delivering that just fine, keeping his back pinned to the turnbuckles, while delivering strike, after strike, with his large shoulders.

Johnny - Well as underhanded as the tactics might be, you can't argue with their results. Up to this point, it's been all Julio and Steele. But it looks like Triple Six is mounting an offensive right now. I sure hope the momentum carries.

Donny - ... Aren't you supposed to be un-objective? Well whatever, either way, this has happened before in this match. Steele and Julio will regain the momentum. And I think this time, they'll end it for good.

Steele's eyes close, and in an attempt to try and alleviate the pain in his torso, he relaxes his body. Triple Six delivers another shoulder block to the corner, driving the total up to five. With the ferociousness of a stampeding bull, using the strength in his legs for the absolute best results. And gripping onto the ropes on either side of his opponent for a directed shot. However, Steele has had enough. He clenches his fist on his right hand, and starts to flex the muscle in the forearm. He raises it slowly and pulls it down fast, and hard. Shocking the system of the Corpsemaker. Triple Six feels the brunt of what might as well be a mace slamming into the area just underneath his neck. Steele quickly draws his hand up and repeats the process, this time knocking the fan favorite to one knee. Steele pushes forward on the shoulders of Triple Six, and places his hand on the back of his opponents head, before drawing his leg up and slamming it into Triple Six's left eye with a gruesome knee strike that kills all the momentum, sending Triple Six flopping back on the mat. He draws both hands up this time, to console his throbbing face. Steele simply takes three steps forward and falls down to one knee. His partner, back on the apron now starts to speak words of encouragement. While on the opposite side of the ring, Vegeta looks on desperately. Knowing that he has to be tagged into the ring. Triple Six, for whatever reason has been chosen as the lamb in this match. A lamb that the tandem of Julio and Steele is working over surprisingly well, considering their clashes in the recent weeks.

Steele reaches down and pushes up off of his knee, cocking his head back sending a small wave of perspiration flying through the air as he hobbles himself out to the center of the ring, where his prey lays. Steele reaches down and grabs the wrist of his opponent, lifting the Father to his feet, revealing to everyone in the crowd, and at home a swollen eye now, one that's certainly to turn black after the blood settles. However, as disturbing as that may be, Julio looks into the ring with a great deal of pleasure. He now knows that Triple Six is ripe for the picking, all Steele has to do is finish it off, and should Vegeta dare think of interfering to break up a count, or a submission hold, he'd be right there to stop it. It was the perfect setting, and the fans knew it. Steele draws his leg up and slams his boot into the stomach of Triple Six, doubling the man over, the Franchise hooks both arms and appears to be setting him up for his signature move... when suddenly. He shocks everyone in the crowd, leaving his parter to watch on in horror. Steele unhooks Triple Six and shoves him back to his corner. Vegeta, at first, has no idea what to make of this. Staring into the ring with bright eyes, knowing that by some strange fate, disaster has been avoided. Steele takes a fighting stance, and raises one arm waving his wrist in a circle, telling Vegeta to bring it. The Icon reaches forward and gives his partner a slap to the chest, before climbing into the ring himself. The volume from the audience is near deafening, the two mortal enemies stare at each other, from a safe distance. Vegeta has made a self vow, to not be caught off guard in this match again. And he makes sure to keep both men in his line of sight. Steele starts to slowly approach, breaking the silent concentration of the Icon. Vegeta charges forward, trying to shock the Franchise. But it's a futile attempt. Steele side steps the Icon, and draws his leg up, slamming his knee into the thigh of the PWA Owner. The move stumbles Vegeta, before he falls forward, like a child tripping over his untied shoes. The sight emits a small laugh from Steele, but it infuriates Vegeta. He pushes himself back up off of the mat, and out of nowhere, slams his boot into Steele's face with a Sweet Chin Music! The Franchise drops where he stands, leaving Julio to put his hands on top of his head, watching as his partner lays on the mat, his heart racing faster and faster. The crowd is in nothing less than an uproar right now. Vegeta, shoots a stare at the Brute, and returns the gesture that Julio gave to all of his fans, with the one finger salute. Before he drops to the canvas, and hooks the leg of the Franchise. Much to the shock of many of the people watching, knowing that, that will only serve as a catalyst for interference on the part of Guerrera. However, Vegeta follows through, and just as the referee slides down to make the count, Julio jumps into the ring. The official quickly gets up and starts to struggle with Julio to get him out of the ring. Whatever Vegeta's reason for this was, is unclear to everyone else. But it soon turns out to backfire. His son slides into the ring with a pair of brass knuckles resting firmly on his hand. Vegeta starts to get to his feet, when he feels a pain creeping up on the top of his head, a crimson color coats his vision, before he falls to the mat. The young man kicks his father's body off of his mentor, and slides out of the ring. Whatever Vegeta's plan was, we'll never know it now. Julio slides out of the ring, satisfied with what he saw. The official starts his ten count, whilst the Franchise rolls over onto his stomach, peering up through the tangled mess that is his hair, as he slowly starts to crawl towards his corner. Meanwhile, Vegeta lays there, heaving hard, while a trail of blood trickles down his face, pooling on the mat just at the back of his head. Julio seems to be the only man in this match with any hint of energy left at this point, and the Franchise seems to be well on his way to tagging in the "fresh" man. The crowd try valiantly to restore their heroes, but it seems to be a vain effort, because the Franchise is just an arms length away now, and Vegeta has yet to move. Steele leans up extending his hand as far as possible, but it's just inches off...

Johnny - If Steele can make this tag...

Donny - HE DID IT! HE MADE THE TAG! IT'S OVER FOR VEGETA AND TRIPLE SIX! HA-HA YES!
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Vegeta
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Steele could have most likely ended this fight just moments ago, but he allowed his rival to tag his partner and dared him to step up to the plate. Although that backfired on The Franchise, the fact of the matter is that the antagonists somehow found a way to once again hold the ball in their court. Playing such a vital role in this, Vegeta’s son rushes towards his mentor’s side as he slides underneath the bottom rope after tagging out. But ninety-nine percent of the people watching don’t even notice that, as their attention is completely focused on Julio Guerrera. Staring down at his helpless Boss, who just two weeks ago ruthlessly gave him a beating like none other, The Messiah can’t help but chuckle at the situation which lies before him. Thinking to himself, “My, my, how the tables have turned”, the cocky, arrogant rebel feels like a kid in a candy store- so many possibilities! The straight edged superstar kneels down, places his fingers underneath the bloodied head of his adversary and locks his claws onto a handful of hair. Lifting Vegeta’s head up ever so slightly, Julio has flashbacks of Massacre. The series of events which occurred that night begin playing through his mind: the relentless beating, a blotched shooting star press, followed by his own employer denying him medical attention so that he could plant him with his finisher and pick up a victory. His emotions become overwhelming, as those very thoughts rewind and play themselves over and over. As the blood continues leaking from the laceration on Vegeta’s skull, Julio gives in to temptation. Reeling back, squeezing his fists as tight as possible, he proceeds to pound away at the open wound. Blow after blow, his knuckles become saturated of crimson fluid, but he could evidently careless. Sickened by such a violent display of abuse, fans are forced to turn their heads, not wanting to see their hero beaten into a bloody pulp.

Johnny: This has gotten out of hand. Come on, can’t they keep it clean!

Donny: Were they expecting to have a tea party instead of a match? Come on Johnny. They came out here, they called out anyone man enough to take on their challenge, and here we are, watching them be castrated!

Coming to the defense of not only Vegeta, but the fan’s as well, the referee wraps his arms around Julio’s waist and pulls him away from the unconscious Hall of Famer. West Virginia, we have a problem. Infuriated by the course of action the official decided to take, the only one out of the four to never hold the PWA World title spins around and gets in his face. With the hand that is covered in his enemies blood, Julio grabs a hold of the ref’s collar, threatening to knock him out cold with one punch. But little does the WAR leader know, Triple 6 jumps into the squared circle full of enthusiasm and bountiful energy. The former two-time World Champion looks to come to the rescue of the referee, as well as give his partner a chance to recover from his mugging. Rushing behind and pulling his deviant counterpart aside so hard that his grip on the official is lost, Triple 6 shoves his foe into the nearest corner. The Antichrist Superstar’s face is full of enthusiasm as he quickly capitalizes on this sneak attack, even increasing his pace as he hastily plunges a few boots to the ribs of Julio Guerrera. Attempting to hide the agonized bones in his body, El Malvado curls his body into a fetal position- his arms rising to his chest to guard him from further harm. His teeth clenching together as tight as a bear trap, Guerrera attempts to escape the wrath of his opponent. Diving out from the confines of the ring, this proves to be frivolous as Triple 6 easily chases his prey down. The debilitation of his foe proving to slow him down enough to keep him from escaping entirely. Continuing to sprawl across the canvas, trying to escape to the outside of the ring, he only gets so far before he is stopped dead in his tracks by a stealthy stalker. The boots of Triple 6 continue to take their toll on the torso of the man looking to overthrow Vegeta. With fierce tenacity, The Corpsemaker continues to stomp a proverbial mudhole into the midsection of his foe. No remorse is present in the actions of the former Father of Forsworn, clearly doing what he has to do in order to get his team back into this match. Julio is glued to the canvas, completely immobile as the vicious stomps continue to fall hard on his torso. This glue is quickly peeled from his back, however, as Triple 6 doubles down to grab hold of his opponent’s hair, lifting him slowly to his feet against his own will. The punks in the front row begin hollering at the ref, telling him to stop this unfair beating, but the ref’s biasness towards the man who just saved him from losing a couple teeth is the reason he hasn‘t stepped in, and in reality, is actually enjoying watching this. Inventing new meticulous plots of destruction for Guerrera, Triple 6 attempts an Irish whip, but is mightily overcome, not by strength, but by the courage and determination of the heel. The whip is reversed and subsequently sends The Heartstopper charging headlong into the opposite ropes- his long hairs wafting in the breeze as he charges full speed ahead at the nylon ropes which offer extensive elasticity. Turning his back to the ropes, his body absorbs the nylon cords and he darts once again towards the exhausted gladiator who stands across from him. Despite a complete lack of energy, The Messiah’s fighting spirit and his motivation are so high and his adrenaline pumps so hard and fast that he is able to hoist his oncoming foe into the air and tilt-a-whirl backbreaker him on his bent knee. After that, all hope seems lost! But things are just getting worse and worse, as Steele finally comes to his senses while standing in his corner and waiting eagerly. His arm stretching almost halfway across the ring as his teeth grit and his eyebrows furrow, his intensity growing with every passing moment clearly wanting to take the place of his somewhat spent partner.

Johnny: Vegeta is out. Triple 6 it out. I can’t watch!

Donny: You almost have to feel sorry for them. Wait a second, is Steele drooling? Johnny, close your eyes! He’s not licking his chops because his stomach is growling, he sees this as the perfect chance to do what he’s wanted to do for so long- end Vegeta’s career!

Slowly staggering towards his corner, Julio gives in to his partner’s wishes and makes the tag. Stoically signaling the tag has been made, the referee looks on in horror, realizing how much trouble the two fan-favorites are in. Steele dives between the middle and top ropes and impetuously enters the ring. With such confidence in his step, he paces towards the downed Triple 6, nudging him with his black Dr. Martin boots and pushes his under the bottom rope and to the outside of the ring! The cameraman rushes over to the fallen superstar lying on the thin black mat which circumferences around the ring, getting a shot of him with the back of his hands hovered over his spine. But back to the action inside the ring. The Franchise places his hands on his hips, staring down at the so-called Icon of professional wrestling. But before a single thought could enter his mind, he’s taken aback by what he sees. The bloody, beat up Showstopper rolls back onto his shoulders and neck and forcefully throws his weight forward, kipping up to his feet in one single motion! The fans erupt out of their seats as a feeling of euphoria overcomes their souls, while Vegeta seems to have recovered thanks to his partner‘s selfless actions. Sure, the New Jersey native is back to his feet, but the beating he sustained earlier is clearly being expressed as he stands still, rather than using this sudden surge of energy to attack his nemesis. Steele shakes his head, wondering what the hell does he have to do to put the thirty-eight year old away once and for all. Once again, the two stare down, the hatred and spite between them has gone to a new level. They circle the ring, measuring one another up, making quick juts toward the center of the ring in their attempt to throw their opponent out of sync and rhythm, causing them to jump the gun. This tactic of trickery accomplishes nothing for either competitor as both succumb to the inevitability of the sequence of events which would lead them to a collar and elbow tie-up. The two titans vie for leverage, striving with all of their might to overpower the opposing gladiator. The struggle between the two legal men ends as Vegeta finds himself with the upper hand, exploiting this opportunity as his arms clench around the neck and skull of the very man who took his World title, locking him in a standing side headlock, the intensity of which causes the skull of his foe to throb in pain. The sweaty hairs of Steele leave thick puddles of sweaty residue upon the forearm and elbow of the executor, while the blood on his face has dried up for the most part.
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The Jesus
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*OOC*
HE KIPS UP.. straight into a side headlock. Ladies and gentlemen, THAT is how you pace a match! >_>

*IC*
Dried flakes of coagulated blood manage to coat the very fringes of the Seargent's mop-esque hair as a direct result of the positions the two men find themselves in. Vegeta, somehow surprised that the audience commences to quiet down after what may very well have been the longest period of continuous pandemonium a PWA crowd has ever produced, decides to re-fit his arms around the head of Steele; offering the man a very split second of freedom before once again applying pressure around the man's cranium. The Franchise decrepitly delivers a jab to the lower back side of The Icon, but it is largely ignored. A second jab doesn't fair much better, The Showstopper simply flashing a re-assuring smile towards the now placid crowd before once again re-applying the vice his arm has over his archnemesis's head. A third, awkwardly-angled jab by Steele once again fails to make much of an impact on the anatomy of it's intended target. However, it does prove to Steele that he must either switch tactics as soon as he possibly can, or risk losing too much momentum to his blood rival. Even before he manages to fully contemplate the plan, his legs are already at work. His heels are seperated from the canvas, lifting Steele's feet onto their toes. And then, his toes begin to push off the canvas - pushing the rest of his body as well as Vegeta's body forwards. Although it is off to a slow start, by the second step enough momentum has been built by the Sergeant that the two figures seem to be jogging towards the ropes, if not out-right running. Vegeta's arms have no choice but to absolve the vice grip in order to help stabilize their owner's figure as he jogs towards the black-colored cable wires. If not for his infamous striped shirt, the fans would be able to see streaks of pink suddenly dawn on The Icon's muscular bust as his body is pushed into the ring's ropes. As anybody who has watched even a single wrestling match can tell you, anything that is pushed into the ring ropes is bound to come back harder and faster than before, and that is exactly what happens in this situation. In fact, the force of the rebound is so much that the Showstopper is unable to even twist his body around to meet his opponent. Steele slides his body ever so slightly to the left, and protrudes his right shoulder outwards. The inevitable impact isn't pretty but, then again, nothing in this match really is. Just like everything else, however, it gets the job done. Vegeta's body is suddenly thrusted forwards, once again towards the ropes as a direct outcome of the devious Shoulder Block which has just rocked his body. The left arm and neck of the man find themselves draped over the top rope due to the peculiarity of the way in which he was shoved into the ropes. His right arm, his only source of support in this new position Vegeta finds himself is, firmly grips the middle rope. But, of course, not firm enough. A simple tug from Steele pries the man's fingers apart and brings the owner out of grasps of what he may have turned into a safe haven and instead brings him right into the clutches of the executioner himself. The former four time World Champion wraps his arms around the midsection of his prey's, and, following a second tug (not to mention a lift), he manages to hit an uncharacteristically utopian German Suplex. Blood rushes to Vegeta's head and, eventally, out of the opening on his skill, the thick liquid easily forcing itself through the crevices left behind by the flaked off particles of blood which now invade the end points of Steele's hair. The trickle of blood converts itself into a gusher for just a split second, but that split second is enough to allow a string of crimson to shoot out of Vegeta's head and pool on the once white flooring of the squared battlefield. With blood once again smeared across his head and his mouth fully agape, Vegeta seems to be completely out of it. The fans notice this but, more importantly, so does The Franchise. He drops onto his two knees and allows his body to cover his opponent's.

Johnny: "When was the last time you saw Steele pull out a German Suplex?"

Donny: "I don't know, but I can tell you when the next time I'm going to see a German Suplex end a match will be - right now! Vegeta is out of it!"

The referee wastes a second in positioning himself on the ring mat, but even with the delay his black dockers dip into the pool of crimson created by the gap on Vegeta's head. He seems ambiguous to this fact, however, as he raises his arm above his head for the first of what may be the deciding three times.

1!

The fans, realizing just how close Vegeta (and Triple 6) is to losing to the two leaders of PWA's biggest hurdles, once again begin to emit what can only be described as absolute pandemonium. This clash of noise is only increased as the referee smacks his arm into the mat for the second time.

2!

A young fan of Vegeta's watches from the front row, his eyes wide and his skin pale. A single thought runs through his mind, and that is "Kickout!" And, much to his relief, he does! A victory cry explodes out of the little kid's mouth. In fact, a good majority of the audience all seem to be emitting similar chants of "Whoooooo!" and "Yes!".

Just when it all seemed lost, just when the Sarge thought he had found the key to Vegeta's defeat, The Showstopper manages to evade defeat and powerlessly throw his arm in the air. Steele can't believe, obviously. Not even as he lifts himself back up to his vertical base and sees Vegeta laying on the mat, his once parted lips twisted into a sly smirk, and he sees his not the man he has contested with for the better part of this year, but his opponent. Steele's sole is shoved into an opening inbetween two of Vegeta's ribs, a stomp which ends up only being the first of many. Each one is vile, each one is ruthless, and each once seems like it could easily break a bone in The Icon's body. And, unfortunately, that is just the beginning. The Messiah enters the ring.

The referee, blind to Julio's presence in the squared circle for only a second, rushes towards the corner the Mexican employed as a door into this battle with relative ease. Of course, that leaves the former four time World Champion completely unsupervised to do as he pleases with his blood rival. The official places his palms on the sweat-bathed shoulders of El Malvado, instantly asserting himself over Guerrera as the authority in this match and as an official willing to use force is absolutely necessary in order to restore order. It's best for PWA personnel to fight fire with fire, apparently. Julio, obviously not one to take authority seriously, simply offers a demeaning laugh towards the referee before sidestepping the official and continuing on his march towards his partner and his employer. Never turn your back on your opponent, but turn your back on what should be a non-entity? That's fine, right? Wrong! The referee, his visage now contorted into a portrait of absolute frusteration, quickly places his two hands on the left shoulder of Guerrera. The presence of another man's skin upon his own quickly stops El Malvado in his tracks, which ultimately makes it easier for the referee to accomplish his goal of forcing the illegal competitor to rotate in a one-eighty degree motion with a simple pull. Never back down. Julio isn't one to take such a physical altercations lightly, especially not from a man he deems as inferior to him - a man who IS inferior to him physically, but is he willing to sacrifice this match and a potential long-term partnership with one of The Dynasty's co-founders simply to make a point? Under normal circumstances, this wouldn't even be an issue. The answer would be a "Fuck yeah!", usually followed by either a punch or a kick. But now? Fortunately for Julio, it is ultimatey not his choice to make. Before he can even contemplate a strategy to deal with the referee, he finds his body being whisked out of the ring and, for some peculiar reason, he doesn't feel any obligation or even desire to fight back. Not this time, at least. He lets himself be carted out of the battlefrield and onto the ring apron by the referee.

Back inside the ring, Steele's once demented assault has been subdued to a simple, but poignant Sleeper Hold, his body kneeling behind the body of The Showstopper. As the referee approaches the two men in order to perhaps declare a winner (as a result of a submission), it becomes abundantly clear that the maneuver currently being employed isn't supposed to win the match for the Steele-Guerrera duo, but instead shatter the spirit of Vegeta, his face now plastered by copious amounts of what seems to be ever-flowing blood.

Donny: "I spoke too soon, Johnny. A German Suplex isn't going to end this, but a Sleeper Hold may do the trick!"

Johnny: "Not if Steele has anything to say about it, look at him!"

Indeed, Steele barks at the approaching referee to "stay the hell away!' as he shifts the head of his victim in order to increase the amount of blood leaking out of the man's custom made faucet.

*OOC*
I need to stop RPing at such a late hour, I'm going to have trouble staying awake tomorrow. :(

EDIT - Fixed a spelling error caused by the shittiness of Wordpad.
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Steele
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In a scene that the fans are probably tired of seeing tonight, the two villains have the dominating upper-hand in the match once again, never fleeting is their stranglehold on the contest. Steele and Julio, while having had several chances to - what many would see as - end the match, have for whatever reason kept it alive. And to the small pockets of their fans here and there, seeing a bloody Vegeta sitting in the middle of the ring, possibly passed out, make it worth the while. The official cycles through the thoughts in his mind, and even though he's shown courage throughout the match, staring into the face of Julio and in some cases winning those mini-battles. He knows that the Franchise is a whole other kind of beast, one that he's not willing to test just yet, but duty calls and he must see if Vegeta is unable to compete at this point or not. The referee walks over and much to his surprise, Steele doesn't shoo him away. With a renewed confidence, the referee reaches down and grabs one of the sweat soaked wrists of the Icon. And arm that would normally be heavy for any normal man to lift, becomes even heavier when it's apparent that Vegeta is nothing more than a limp lump of skin at this point. The official struggles with the sweat slicked wrist for a moment before prying it up off of the abdomen of the Icon, and lifting it in the air. To no ones surprise, the arm falls quicker than a ton of bricks dropped off a gorge somewhere. The official reaches down and grabs the wrist, however just inches behind Vegeta's head. The Franchise starts to close his eyes, little does the referee, or anyone else in the arena know. This Sleeper hold will not make it past two, because that would be too simple. The referee draws the arm up for the second time, and in true fashion, it falls back down to the mat. The crowd watch on with horror, in their minds this match is over. No way can a man that looks like Vegeta does at this point, muster up the strength to not succumb to that. But it's all for naught, the Franchise opens his eyes again and with a loud roar, one that's audible on camera even. He jumps up to his feet, his toy in tow. Steele keeps the sleeper hold locked in tightly, and leaps back, kicking his legs out. The natural force known as gravity takes it's place, pulling the more than four hundred pounds - combined - to the canvas. In what looks like a sleeper variation of a reverse neck breaker, the Icon slams into the mat. And it becomes clear that he is HURTING! The hold is broken on impact, simply because it wasn't without it's faults to the person applying the move, Steele is completely winded and in fact the impact nearly knocked him out. Certainly not a move to add to the everyday arsenal, but it served it's purpose here, as he peers up and spots the Icon flopping around wildly. Vegeta tries to pull himself up to his feet, but once he does, he realizes that his legs seem to have forgotten how to support the massive frame of which they are connected, and he simply drops back to the canvas. It's a rather amusing site for some, as he does this about three times before he just comes to a rest on the mat. Steele rolls over onto his back, and sits up in the ring, and starts to pull himself back towards his corner, placing his palms to the canvas and dragging himself along. Vegeta at this point is just laying on his side, rather he's unable to continue, or trying to take a breather is anyone's guess. And at this point, the Franchise is in no condition to try and finish it off, he reaches up behind his head and is met with an eager smack of the palm by Julio.

Johnny - If Vegeta and Triple Six are to continue teaming up after tonight, they're going to have to do a little better than this. Steele and Julio have completely dissected these two here tonight.

Donny - Vegeta probably isn't making any plans after tonight, look at him. He's as limp as a noodle in there. This just goes to show, when you're good you are good. But when you are bad, you're even better.

Having been described as a Hyena earlier, Julio Guerrera lives up to that title right now. Circling Vegeta with his mouth watering, he licks his lips as if to say it's time to feast. Triple Six stands in his corner, watching all of these events unfold, and even he, the never-say-die superstar, is starting to doubt the chances that his team has of walking out of here with a victory. But that is usually the case when it's three on two, as it has been at points tonight. Julio goes to make his approach, he leans forward and tangles his fingers into the hair of the Icon, and slowly pulls him up, making sure he feels the pain, and humiliation of being drug around by his hair, like a dog. However, Vegeta has come up with another tactic, earlier the question was posed, what might he be doing on the mat? Well it's soon answered. The crimson liquid that had once been considered a hinder to him, is now his greatest ally. As soon as he's eye level with Julio, Vegeta draws back and leans forward quickly, hawking a thick glob of red liquid into the face of the WAR leader. Unsuspecting as it was for the rest of us, Julio was even less suspecting of it, and as such is caught completely off guard. His eyes starting to sting, as his vision goes completely black. Vegeta slaps Julio's hand off of his head and falls back down, ass first, to the canvas. Before quickly bouncing up and racing towards his corner, his advances are met by a much delighted Triple Six, knowing that any doubting that he once had, can be erased. The tag is made, the fresher man enters the ring. The Iconoclast squares his vision on the struggling Brute. Triple Six draws one arm up and starts to stroke his chin, a whole database of moves are at his disposal in this situation, but picking the right one is the key. After some thought, he just shrugs his shoulders and says fuck it! The Father charges forward with his arm extended, catching the neck of the Mexican superstar, with one of the more vicious clothesline's that any of the participants have seen in a while. Julio now has three problems. His eyes, his throat, and most of all, his opponent. Triple Six reaches down and grabs Julio by the back of the head, lifting him off of the canvas. The two men walk towards the corner, albeit in much different fashion. Triple Six stops just inches from the turnbuckle and thrusts his arm forward, slamming the head of the revolutionary into the top turnbuckle. As dazed, and confused as one smack of the turnbuckle will make you, two is even better. And the Corpsemaker knows this, electing to repeat the process, slamming Guerrera's head into the padded bolt again. And although it won't change the complexion of this match at the start, a simple tactic such as this can seriously slow down a team, that has been moving along with the speed of a jet in transit, up to this point. However, it would appear as though Julio has had enough, he curls his arm and brings his hand forward, cupping his fits in the other and pumping it backwards, slamming his elbow into the stomach of the former two time, World Champion. The move is good enough to at least crumble the grip on his head, and Triple Six stands kind of paralyzed by the sudden jolt to his system. Julio reaches forward and grabs the middle rope, as he leans down and kicks up off of the canvas, slamming his boots into the chest of his opponent with an impromptu donkey kick that knocks Triple Six off of his feet, and backwards about four steps, before he slams back into the canvas. Julio simply drops to his knees where he was standing, and starts to bring his arms up to rub the vision in his eyes back to normal. The official goes to check on the Corpsemaker, who at this point is looking anything but. The brutal bout that started about half an hour ago, wages on. And even though it has appeared to be all Steele and Julio up to this point, it has been anything but. Part of winning a match, is how well you can do to not lose it, and anyone that's been watching can tell you, that Vegeta and Triple Six have been doing pretty good to avoid that. After having cleared his vision to a satisfactory level, Guerrera stands up and makes an about-face, resting his eyes on his opponent as he treks lightly across the canvas, stepping through that mess of blood that once belonged inside his own employer's body. The official, who was resting on a knee beside Triple Six, looks up and spots the oncoming danger. Having won an earlier battle with Julio, he decides not to press his luck this time, stepping out of the way as the WAR leader reaches down to lift his much larger opponent off of the mat, it would appear as though he's just getting started...

Johnny - While I certainly do not advocate giving up when the going get tough. I do have to say that sometimes you just have to know when to hold 'em and when to fold 'em.

Donny - Well I DO advocate quitting, and in fact I think that's what Vegeta and Triple Six should do right now... and save themselves some more humiliation, ya know?

OOC - EDIT: Took my sig out, because I'm tired of having my post edited by other people >_>

EDIT 2: OWNED!
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Triple 6
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As he tows his enemy up to his feet, one thing is on Julio Guerrera’s mind: victory. It’s something that he always strives for, but it means so much more tonight. Throughout his entire career, he’s been viewed as simply an above average athlete; he’s never been considered a superstar. Tonight, with one pin, he can change all of that. Tonight he can reinvent himself. Tonight he can become a star. But first, he’ll need to set the stage. Legends aren’t born out of victory rolls or small package pins; they’re born out of decisive victories. That’s exactly how Julio plans to end this, right here and right now: by being decisive. Once Triple 6 is standing, he sets his plans into motion. Julio turns so that he is facing in the same direction has his subject, then reaches behind him and snags a hold of Triple 6’s head and neck, pulling him forward a bit into a Three-Quarters Face Lock. Not much of a submission in its own right, but it opens the door to several other opportunities that Guerrera can choose to pursue. He seems to have already handpicked one out, however, as evidenced by his mad dash towards the turnbuckle. With incredible grace, Julio quickly runs up the turnbuckle rungs. Once at the top, he immediately shoves off with his feet, launching himself backwards and into the air, although he still manages to maintain his grip on the skull of The Corpsemaker. The Messiah back flips through the air, ceasing his rotation once he’s reached a sitting position. All he can do now is wait for the impact. It comes quickly. Triple 6 finds his cranium being spiked into the ring canvas, the victim of a Modified Shiranui. The pain is immediate. The pain is intense. After all of the hell he’s already been dragged through over the course of this match, he begins to think that El Malvado’s intensity may actually be able to do him in… He quickly rids such thoughts from his mind; such thoughts don’t belong in the ring. Just as there are no atheists in foxholes, there are no pessimists in wrestling rings.

Julio’s grin could not be any broader. It seems as if his fortunes have finally changed. At the poker table of PWA, he’s just been dealt a royal flush. Now it’s just time to cash in. But how should he go about doing it? How can he make this moment even more memorable? What can he do that will etch this memory into every fan’s memory, what image will define him as he begins his new era? Maybe a little bit of flash… Yeah, that’ll do the trick. With vanity on his mind and a smile across his face, he heads over to the corner turnbuckle. He takes his sweet time now, there’s no rush. Savor the flavor. Once atop his pedestal, he turns back to face his foe one last time. As far as he is concerned, this is where Triple 6’s career ends and his truly begins. This will be the blow that takes him and WAR to the top. Except… Something happens. Nothing happens. No leap forward, nothing. Fans had readied their cameras, but look on with disappointment. While they may hold contempt towards The Messiah, they were more than willing to take a snapshot of this moment. This moment that never comes… Julio just stands there, completely frozen. His knees tremble and he begins to feel nauseous. A moment ago, nothing was on his mind but victory. Now, however, he can’t stop thinking about the last time he was in the ring… He just can’t stop thinking about Massacre. His neck hurts just reminiscing about it, thinking about that botched Shooting Star Press. He had been amazed he was left alive, let alone able to walk and wrestle again a week later. He hadn’t even thought about that until he got up on his perch. Now it’s all coming back to him, though…

Then, his feet leave him. He falls.

He’s not a victim of vertigo, but rather a victim of The Heartstopper. In all of the time he spent trembling from his own demons, Triple 6 was battling his. His endocrine system kicked into full gear, diffusing adrenaline throughout his bloodstream. It was fight or flight. It was for both men, really. And when Julio decided not to take flight, Triple 6 decided to fight. He leapt forward at the ring ropes, throwing his body against them. It was enough to knock them out from beneath Guerrera’s footing. Without their support beneath him, Julio was left with no alternative but to plummet straight down. Even if he had anticipated it, he’d never have been able to stop the resulting outcome: his testicles being impaled upon cold steel. It’s enough to make a grown man cry.

Johnny: It seems as if Massacre has left Julio… well, mentally scarred. Honestly, I’m surprised he even went up there in the first place; that was the first thing I thought about once he started climbing. It’s almost like déjà vu, really. At Massacre, he took to the top ropes and it cost him the match. Right now, it’s cost him the very valuable momentum that he and Steele worked for so long to earn. Maybe he should learn to control his arrogance…

Donny: Oh, yeah, it’s all Julio’s fault! He got so cocky! How could he possibly think that he could take his time finishing off a man who has basically spent the past half hour being vivisected alive! How dare he be so confident! …Get a grip, Johnny, anyone would have done it. The way I see it, Triple 6 took the cowards way out.

Triple 6 has been given possibly the biggest opportunity of the match thus far. Julio simply sits atop the turnbuckle, his legs squirming in agony but the rest of his body still frozen in shock. This match has been served to him on a silver platter, but he simply can’t will himself to make anything of it. Supporting himself against the ropes, The Antichrist Superstar seems near-death. His chest heaves up and down as he tries to replenish the oxygen his body is perpetually burning up. It’s a struggle just to hold himself up anymore, let alone attack another human being. Despite this, he knows he has to act. He tries hard to do something, anything, but his mind and body conflict with one another.

Can’t move. Gotta move. Can’t… Gotta hurry. Need to rest… Go now!

His mind wins the argument. Although he feels as if his limbs are working to impede him rather than progress him, The Heartstopper manages to walk away from the ropes and sustain himself unsupported. Such a simple act, yet so monumental. He’s just walking, something any child over eighteen months can do, and yet the crowd reacts as if he had just captured his third World championship. The arena’s foundations rumble under their cheers as Triple 6’s supporters try to will him on. They have no idea whatsoever if they’re helping at all, but they’re willing to keep on trying just in case. At any rate, whether crowd fueled or not, Triple 6 is now making progress. He stands beside the turnbuckle that ended Julio’s hope. Guerrera is still frozen, surprisingly. You’d almost think that a taxidermist had paid him a visit. Slowly, The Heartstopper lifts one leg up onto the bottom rope. It’s a challenge, but he does it, and drags the other up alongside him. He lifts it again and he’s on the second rope. Progress. That’s as high as he’ll need to be for now. Riding the fading tide of his adrenaline, Triple 6 reaches out with his hands. They wind their way around Julio’s skull like serpents, forcing him to bow forward into a Front Face Lock. That’s enough of a hint to reveal his intentions to the crowd. The ones that were not already cheering do so now. They quickly ready their flashes, doing so just in time to fire off a picture as Triple 6 hoists El Malvado from his seat and into the air.

The two bodies fall a mere four or five feet, tops, and yet it takes them an eternity to land. The aesthetics are incredibly elegant. Even the landing looks majestic and beautiful. Tell that to Julio Guerrera, who has just had the top of his head speared into the canvas with a Second-Rope Venym. Any hope that Julio had of recapturing his chance for superstardom collapses within itself now. Triple 6 fights against his fatigue once more, forcing Julio over and onto his back before slinging his arm across his chest. Oh God, he hopes it’s over.

1…

Julio doesn’t budge. His brain can barely even function anymore. He can’t move his fingers, let alone kick out of a pin attempt. It’s over, and he knows it. For once, there truly is a pessimist in the wrestling ring.

2…

Invisible scars from Massacre have been torn open. That pain he felt in his head and neck last Sunday is coming back to him once more, as vivid and vibrant as it was when he first made impact. As Steele curses from the corner, Julio begins to close his eyes. He’s given up. All he wants is to rest. He waits for the final count.

It doesn’t come.

Both men in the ring notice this, and both are surprised. They’re infinitely curious, but they lack the strength to crane their necks to see. If they did, however, what they would see would be the son of Vegeta dragging the zebra by the leg out of the ring. Once forced outside, the referee is obviously aggravated at being interrupted. He screams and shouts at the son of his employer, but the youth merely shrugs and begins walking away. Deciding he’s had enough of this young man for one night, the referee informs him that he’s being ejected from ringside. Now the fruit of The Icon’s loins spins around in a rage. His face turns red and he looks about ready to explode in a tantrum. Whether he was about to give the official a piece of his mind or not, we’ll never know; the confrontation is cut short by a steel chair. The weapon comes crashing down atop the kid’s cranium. Not used to being subjected to such vicious assault, the boy is instantly floored. Standing over him is the infamous tandem of Sparkle Motion!, Piccie with a chair in hand. It appears as if they, too, have had enough of watching their allies be cheated by the little brat. He doesn’t look like he’ll be causing any more trouble.

For the Antichrist Superstar, however, it is too little too late. He had this match wrapped up. He pinned Julio for a clean three. Fuck, three? He had him for at least six or seven. As much as The Heartstopper wants to be frustrated, as much as he wants to yell, he simply can’t for two reasons. One, it won’t rectify any of the wrongs committed against him. Two, he simply does not have enough vigor to spare. The energy he still has must be used constructively: to pulverize Julio Guerrera. That’s exactly what he intends to do, as well. While mere seconds ago he rolled Julio onto his back, he now does the opposite. Once The Messiah is on his belly, The Iconoclast begins to ventilate his frustrations.

An artist will often unload his emotions into a canvas with his paints of all imaginable colors. Triple 6’s canvas is the body of his enemy, and he’s only allowed two colors on this particular occasion: black and blue. Perhaps red will follow later. For now, however, he is content to paint the back of Julio’s neck with these blacks and blues, as well as every color in between, using repeated Right Fists as his brushes. The pacing starts off slow enough, which the fans expect after all the wear and tear their hero has been through. Surprisingly, however, this doesn’t last for long. Eventually, his arm begins pumping up and down in a rapid-fire manner. His arms are the pistons of an engine of war, an engine that’s tank has just been refueled. The driver certainly has the pedal to the metal. He remembers why he is back here in the Pojo Wrestling Alliance at all. It’s because of this man. Him and his corrupt crusade and propagandized ignorance. The speed of his blows hastens, if that’s at all possible at this point. He’s the jackal, picking apart his opponent where he’s weakest. After Massacre, the overall fatigue of this long match-up, and a second-rope Venym, El Malvado’s neck was already a sponge of punishment. Now… Well, if one had to make any estimation for gambling purposes, the smart money would be on Guerrera ending up being a quadriplegic for the remainder of his lifetime. That is, until the engine dies out.

It would appear that the rejuvenation was merely temporary, a sugar-high rather than a long-lasting euphoria. The blows still come, but they come slower and weaker. Eventually, The Heartstopper collapses on top of his enemy, completely drained of vitality. The proud and powerful gladiator has poured everything he has into mutilating his enemy, but now he simply has nothing else to give. His arms hang like corpses that have been fused to his torsos, unrecognizable shadows of the powerful appendages they once were. His breathing has gone shallow, and it’s not because he doesn’t need the oxygen; he most certainly does. Unfortunately, even heaving his chest has become an arduous task for The Father of the Forsworn. Just trying to perform such an act makes him want to vomit in anguish. He desperately wants to close his eyes and just drift away into sleep…

Johnny: My God, this is… this is inhuman. This match has been an absolute war, I have never seen intensity like this. All four of these men are known for their refinement when it comes to wrestling, but tonight it’s just… It’s just raw, animalistic aggression!

Donny: What did you think you were calling, Johnny? A bout of croquet? These guys can’t stand each other, and you expect them to dick around with “refinement”? If someone pisses all over you, you don’t treat them with sportsmanship. You scratch, you claw, and sometimes you even cheat… Whatever you can to beat them not only physically, but mentally and emotionally.

Johnny has described the match as animalistic, and from that a question comes to mind. What adjectives could not be used to describe this match? Boring, perhaps? Trite? It’s certainly been one hell of a roller coaster. It seems far from over, and yet still gives off the feeling that it could end at any moment. In fact, it could happen right now… As has happened so many times already in this match, the two competitors eye their corners with survivalism lining their faces. They know what to do. Julio begins to crawl forward like the serpent he is, while Triple 6 opts to rise to a vertical base. It’s a difficult ascent for a man so encumbered by lethargy; scaling Mount Everest, even at full health, would be a much simpler task. He completes his mini-crusade, however, and begins stumbling towards his ring corner. Vegeta, wounded but remaining spirited, readies his hand to make the tag. It looks as if The Corpsemaker will easily outpace Julio in this race. But he doesn’t.

As he approaches, he’s struck by something. He notices that Vegeta’s mask has become completely washed with crimson. He can see almost no flesh tone there; all of it has been caked with clotting and drying blood. When he sees this, he stops dead in his tracks. Even with his face painted claret, it’s easy to make out The Icon’s bewilderment. He simply can’t fathom why The Antichrist Superstar isn’t eager to slap his palm. Triple 6 knows, however. He simply can’t allow Vegeta to step into the ring to replace him. He’s lost too much blood. It’s not so much that The Iconoclast is concerned with his partner’s well being, but more that he has invested far too much in this match to throw it away by tagging in an overly-exhausted ally. So Triple 6 turns his back to his partner, just in time to watch Julio slap the hand of his. He has made up his mind; he’s going to stay in the game. Pray for an adrenaline rush.

From behind, he can hear the voice of Vegeta, begging him to tag him in. The Icon even reaches over the rope, hoping to blind-tag his way in, but he simply can’t reach far enough. Even his allies at ringside, Sparkle Motion!, implore him to make the tag. A few fans get caught up in it as well. Their cries all fall upon deaf ears. For such a liberal individual, The Antichrist Superstar can be mind-numbingly stubborn. All Triple 6 can do is watch as his former friend and current enemy steps through the ring ropes. The Franchise has had a long time to conserve his strength and recuperate. Clearly, the odds are in his favor. He knows it. The fans know it. Triple 6 even knows it himself. But, being at a disadvantage never stopped The Heartstopper before…

So now this man with big shoulders from the City of Big Shoulders is faced with the phenom from Georgia. It’s a testament to Steele’s raw talent that he can still be called a phenom five years detached from his debut. The man is just that damn good… Then again, it’s hard to sell Triple 6 short. If there is one person that could work their way out of such a situation, it would be The Antichrist Superstar. Even still, bookies won’t be giving him decent odds. But he likes it that way.

From the apron, Vegeta watches in dismay as Steele peppers The Icon’s partner with a potpourri of strikes to the body. His lime green shirt has been dyed a sickly maroon color, the color of blood long set in, with more fresh crimson coating it all the time. Why is it that Vegeta can bleed so profusely and still feel as if he is the healthy half of this tandem?

Donny: Well, here it is, Johnny! We’ve arrived at the climax. A totally expected outcome, I might add. I mean, think about it. The Icon and The Iconoclast teaming together? It was a pairing that was doomed to fail from the beginning! I mean, you’d have better results if you teamed Triple 6 up with The Bunny! I mean, at least they would have some positive chemistry!

Johnny: You sure are quick to count them out, aren’t you? You’re forgetting, Steele and Julio don’t have Vegeta’s son there on the outside anymore to turn the tide when things aren’t going their way. Without him, I think things would be far different right now. Hell, they’ve still got more than enough time to change.

For once, it would seem that Donny is correct. Triple 6 looks as if he’s inebriated, stumbling clumsily in a pain-induced stupor. Steele chuckles sardonically, following his marionette around and pummeling him mercilessly. It’s only when The Franchise tires of his own games that things really change, and it’s certainly not for the better of The Corpsemaker. Rather than striking with his arms, he elects to lash out with his legs. The Toe Kick penetrates deep into the victim’s gut, manipulating him into keeling over. He’s in a prime position, and Steele is more than willing to take full advantage. He plucks Triple 6’s arms one by one with his own hands and slides his arms beneath them. Boos pour in like rain in a thunderstorm, yet reviling the man isn’t going to do a thing to change his actions. The fans watch in shock as their hero is stricken with one of wrestling’s most lethal finishing maneuvers: the Double Underhook Evenflow DDT. The canvas rushes up to meet Triple 6, and then it all goes fuzzy. He thinks he can feel someone pushing on him. He rolls over and he thinks he can see the house lights. He thinks that he feels something laying across his chest…

1…
2…


OOC: Just making up for not RPing yesterday. I won't be able to RP like, at ALL after tomorrow, so can we each just do one more each (well, two more for Vege and Mysterio) and leave it at that? It's up to you guys. Either way, my next will be normal length, so don't feel like I've turned this into an arms race or anything.

Also, let's not make childish OOC comments that degrade the match, Mysterio. Keep that stuff on AIM, it's embarrassing...

EDIT: Misspelled 'wins' as 'winds'... :shifty
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Donny: This is it! This is it!

Johnny: This is not it! Look at his leg!

Just as the referee is moments away from slapping the canvas for the third consecutive time, somehow, someway, Triple 6 is able to muster enough energy to higher his leg into the air so that his ankle drops on top of the bottom rope! Leaping from their seats as if they were on fire, the fans watch on in amazement as the “never give up” mentality from the good guys continues to shed some light into their eyes. Clearly, as the dominance of Steele and Julio progresses, the dimmer the light gets, but nonetheless, there is still a gleam of hope within their minds. Steele, although stressed about his adversary getting his foot on the ropes, continues to strategize in his mind as way to cast a shadow over the light once and for all. Realizing how much physical punishment the three other participants in this match have taken thus far, Steele comes to his senses and notices how he’s the only one who isn’t completely exhausted. Not wanting to become totally worn out like everyone else, The Franchise decides to stop dragging this match on and end it right now! He buries his hands into the pectoral region of Triple 6, using his arm strength to do a push up in order to get back to his feet. Nodding his head back so that he could move his sweaty and unkempt curly hair away from his eyes and to the top of his scalp, Steele lifts his arm in an upward fashion until his hand meets his neck. Extending his thumb outward, he cuts his throat with his finger in order to explain to the crowd that Triple 6 will soon be a deadman. As a result of the taunting of his foe, Triple 6’s fury increases as he attempts to get himself off of the mat. Struggling with his exhaustion and with the outside force known as gravity, the expression of strain upon his face mixes with the painted frown and gritted teeth characteristic of his anger. As he finally manages to substantiate an upright stance, Chaz looks to ruin his effort by putting him away by hitting him one more time with his deadly finishing maneuver. He charges towards his seemingly unsuspecting counterpart, but The Corpsemaker has done well masking his awareness and baiting him for the kill. Just as Steele lifts his leg into the air, looking to prepare his foe for his signature move, Triple 6 winds up, calculating his shot as he continues to lure his opponent in. When he finally gets his opportunity, he hits the bull between the horns as a solid clothesline connects to the neck and chest region of the former aggressor, now victimized by his own momentum. The unexpected retaliation on the part of the man hailing out of the Windy City quickly turns the tide of the match-up, but for how long? As the Hall of Famer falls abruptly to the canvas, the swirl of colors and flashing lights dizzies him, confusing him as to the events that have occurred as he gazes up at the rafters. His back crashes to the canvas, releasing a thunderous thud of his two hundred and sixty pound body against the structure that contains these caged animals. That one single blow was good enough to buy Triple 6 some time, as his foe lies on his back momentarily until he regains his equilibrium. Staggering after the devastating offense, The Heartstopper begins to recover as he relaxes in the corner, winded and bruised, exhausted and aching. For a brief moment, he scans the landscape and soaks in the atmosphere. With a moment to rest, he addresses the crowd, all of whom are brought to their feet with raucous cheers by the responsive offense on the part of tone of the fan favorite in this bout.

Johnny: Now would be the perfect time for him to tag out! He needs a break.

Donny: He’ll regret that sudden surge that leveled Steele. Just give it two minutes and the tables will be turned once again.

Triple 6 realizes the urgency of the situation, however, knowing that the stun factor currently taking effect on his foe will shortly wear off, unless he capitalizes on the situation. Standing on the apron, shouting at his partner to let him in, Triple 6 turns attention to The Icon. The fans, proud of The Antichrist Superstar for what he’s done, realize in order to keep the upper hand on Steele, the fresher of the two should be in. Walking along the ropes for support, Triple 6 extends his hand outward, coming to the realization that he did his part, now it’s time for his stablemate to shine. The tag is made official and the bloodied warrior enters the ring, but shortly thereafter, The Franchise shakes off the shock of the tenacious shot, working his way to his feet. Lined up in a perfectly straight line behind his nemesis, the PWA Owner sets his scope to lock-on mode, charging full-speed at his target and leaping into the air. His eyes widen as he draws nearer and nearer to his unaware victim. Immediately upon removing the soles of his boots from the canvas by jumping into the air toward Steele, he simultaneously clutches the back of his head with one hand and drives him face first to the canvas with a one-armed bulldog, the dynamics of which nearly break the nose of the antagonist. The fans erupt once again for the success of their heroes, now with a clear-set lead in the match-up, in the execution of yet another harmful and ruinous maneuver. The Showstopper still suffers from soreness as a result of the consistent beating by Steele and Julio Guerrera earlier in this bout, but having been given time to recover and lick his wounds, thanks to his partner‘s selflessness, he has reduced this damage to a minimal state by comparison. As the intermittent pain continues flowing through his body, Vegeta fights off the agony and pops right back to a vertical base. From here, the crafty veteran can come to the conclusion that he and his partner, although currently in control, are still the two most exhausted in this match and in order to make this offensive run worthwhile, he’ll need to allow his tag partner time to recuperate, just as he did. Lifting his lime green shirt up to his face and wiping the blood from it, the aggressor then paces around to the lower half of Steele‘s body fully intent on slowly down the pace of this match. Already face-first on the canvas, Chaz cuts Vegeta’s work in half. Squatting down onto his longtime enemy and grabbing hold of his leg, the New Jerseyian pulls back and locks in a single leg crab. The crowd, Triple 6, and even SparkleMotion! all look on with jubilance, whipped into a frenzy, shouting out toward their respective favorite in the ring to tear his opponents leg off. The referee quickly drops down to mat, looking into Steele’s eyes as he tries to fight off defeat. Writhing in pain from the power of the submission, The Franchise begins kicking and screaming as Vegeta keeps the hold synched tightly, failing to relinquish any of his forceful grasp on the limb. After agonizing over the pain of the hold, the four-time World Champion decides that it is time for change. He refuses to be defeated by a man he just beat a few months ago- the very man he vows to end the career of. With all of the strength remaining in his torso, he pulls himself closer and closer to the ropes, the salvation that is their solace calling to him, singing sweet tones of relief and freedom. Steele begins his quest to escape the lethal submission hold. He screams in pain, the referee continually asking him if he wishes to forfeit and lose the match, but he refuses to quit. Like an earthworm, he crawls slowly across the canvas and increasingly grows closer and closer to the ropes. Even as he grows closer, the expression of pain upon his face becomes wider until it covers the entire circumference of his pale white skin. His hands press firm against the mat as he pushes his body from the canvas against the force of gravity. The grip of Vegeta’s boots begins to slip as the strength of the Chaz Steele pulls him in a reverse direction, backing him up like a U-Haul truck. The fingertips of the behemoth reach toward the ropes, nearly obtaining their grasp, and with one last lunge he finally reaches across the ring to the ropes, forcing the referee to call for the break of the hold.

Johnny: The hold may have been broken, but look at that Donny. With Vegeta's rebellious son out of the picture, the good guys have been building such a definitive dominance that they were unable to do with the constant interference from Steele's protégé.

Donny: *grumbles*


*EDIT*
OOC: After Mysterio gets up another RP, would you all be content with one more RP each? I know Trips and I are fine with that, what about you two?
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The Jesus
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Milk was a bad choice.
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But The Franchise has done too much for Vegeta to actually release his prey after all Steele has put him through not only in this match, but since he returned, right? Psychologically, physically, emotionally - Steele's actions will forever be scarred into all facets of what makes Vegeta the man he is. His weakened ego, his emotional unbalance, his broken household - all caused by the man Vegeta now has firmly locked in a paroxysm of pain. And so, really, it is no surprise that it takes the referee threatening a disqualification after the often used, but rarely enforced five count expires for The Owner. He straightens himself up to a vertical base, his boughs releasing their clutch around the Sarge's appendage, allowing the limb to fall carelessly onto the canvas. Pivoting his entire body on the sole of his right foot, the fan favorite turns his body to once again meet his nemesis. It seems that finally, after months of combat, Vegeta has the upper hand on the former four time World Champion. Steele remains on the canvas, though he is not without life. In fact, he is quite animated in his attempts to pull himself out of the ring. He knows exactly what Vegeta knows, he knows that he's hurt. Triple 6 targeted the appendage earlier in the contest, and though the man's leg did go without suffering much physical trauma for the bulk of the match, that is obviously not the case now. The Showstopper swiftly lifts his right foot into the air, his knee bending at a near perfect ninety degree angle, before being briskly brought down, the sole of Vegeta using the cartilage in Steele's knee as a landing pad. A second stomp to the man's injured member brings forth an uncharacteristic bellow of pain from the nihilistic savage but, fortunately, the second volley ends up being Vegeta's last for the foreseeable future. Some how, some way, the Atlanta native manages to pull his entire two hundred and sixty pound frame out of the battlefield and, thus, bring a premature end to Vegeta's defilement before the damage became so severe that this particular match would either be lost for good, or the efficiency of Steele's limb would be lost for good. The misanthrope's evasive maneuvers are almost ninja-esque, the safely padded concrete rushing up to meet The Franchise's body before anybody noticed the magnificent, self-preserving feat being performed.

Vegeta, slightly bewildered at the sudden loss of a target, once again pivots his body in a one-eighty degree motion. This time his actions are performed in order to meet his non-combative employee, the black-and-white striped referee met with an expeditious, one-man debate. Only those closest to the ring can overhear the Owner's words, and even then, they only manage to hear a handful out of what must have been over a dozen. And among those, "hands", "off" and "fire" are the most discernable. It seems Vegeta isn't particularly enthralled with the referee's attempts to call the match straight down the middle. Perhaps, in his mind, the referee's actions are sly attempts to help PWA's "terrorists" and may be flummoxed as treason. And treason is punishable by death.

The Owner's self-righteous crusade for justice must be put on hold, however. Julio, rejuvenated to the point that he can continue where the Sergeant should have left off, steps back into the ring, truly proving that there are no piss breaks for the men in this battle. His entrance isn't as swift as Steele's exit, or as sly as the referee's alleged acts of treason. In fact, he is quite dawdling in his maneuvers, his body sluggishly slipping through the opening between the third and middle ropes. It is obvious he is procrastinating, although it isn't clear why. Perhaps fear? Perhaps regret? Maybe he truly isn't recovered, or maybe he isn't prepared to enter what can easily turn into a two on one ambush now that his partner and fellow Vegeta cynic is hurt. Or, shit, it could just be simple mind games. Whatever drives Julio will likely never be known, however, the Mexican bruiser backing himself into the safe confines of his own ring corner. His back pushes against the foam-covered turnbuckles. His feet push off the canvas.

And he is off! A race horse with a mission, the Mexican seems to put all fears, doubts and precautions out of mind as he charges the two time World Champion. He doesn't stop his sprint, not even when The Icon adjusts his own body to meet the on-coming human projectile. Hell, he doesn't even stop when his forearm smashes into his employer's chin, Vegeta's body sent tumultuously flipping onto the canvas. Specifically, it is his neck that ends what could have been a complete rotation on behalf of The Showstopper's frame. Like I said, though, Guerrera's run doesn't come to a halt there. El Malvado continues forward, his arm once again finding itself folding onto his chest as he charges, his appendage reeling itself back ever so slightly so as to maximize the overall damage that a second forearm can cause. With Vegeta done (and out?), it becomes apparent that his target is Triple 6, who resides in the corner completely opposite of the turnbuckle The Brute resided in just a few seconds ago. However, the Corpsesmaker saw it coming. In fact, if he had been in Julio's chances, chances are he would have gone for a maneuver not at all unlike the one Julio would have performed. The top half of Triple 6's body slips into the ring much in the same way Guerrera slipped his entire body in - through the top and middle ropes. However, the intentions behind his entry are a bit more malicious than Julio's, surprisingly enough. The Chicagoan's shoulder dips into one of the many crevices found between Guerrera's ribs, the illegal attack being Triple 6's preferred form of defending itself against the wily Mexican's assault.

Julio stumbles backwards, his arms grabbing at his intestines as he does so. The Father of the Forsworn may have struck the revolutionary in the ribs, but it seems the aftereffects are focused solely on his gut. Vegeta, conscious enough to have maneuvered himself onto all fours, slides his hair-covered arm in between his employee's legs. Julio, his mind too concerned over potential internal injuries, lets himself be carted off of his feet and onto his back, Vegeta swiftly locking The Messiah in a School Boy. The fans quickly ascend onto their feet, knowing full well that they may be witnessing the last few seconds of this match. The referee drops into the position Vegeta occupied just a split second ago, all fours. His arm quickly smacks the canvas for the first count.

It is unnecessary for the referee to shout the number, the fans in attendance instead taking over that aspect of the official's job. A thunderous "One!" erupts from the fans, followed by a variety of clapping and cat calls. Julio Guerrera, in the mean time, seems to be the complete antithesis of these feelings. He lies on the blood-spattered canvas, motionless. Almost in perfect harmony. It seems he has taken the most inopportune time imaginable to rest.

"Two!", the fans wail in unison, once again followed by the smacking of hands and the emptying of their lungs in a variety of cat calls and ill-fated chants. Guerrera's eyes part open and his head sways from side to side, but the rest of his figure remains motionless.

"Three!", the fans chant but, in a perfect example of counting your chickens before they hatch, the "three" isn't followed by applause, but instead by a single "Booo!". It seems that, mere milliseconds before the official's hand struck the mat, Julio shoved his boss off of body, and his shoulder off of the ring. Miraculously, Julio Guerrera has managed to overcome the first of what may turn into a series of double team attacks from the conclusive fan favorites of this match.

Sgt. Steele slides into the ring. Triple 6 bursts into it.

Both of these men's intentions are clear, Chaz wants to help his partner (and, by extension, himself) win this match while Triple 6 wants to do the exact opposite and stop the duo of anti-Vegeta unit leaders from achieving victory. The Corpsemaker, having been the person to commence his team's attack of the Sergeant's leg, knows exactly what to do. He picks up right where The Icon left off; knee folded at a ninety degree angle and sole-in-knee included. But the sudden immersion of these two former PWA World Heavyweight champions doesn't only captivate the attention of the fans, but also the attention of Vegeta. The referee, the one who SHOULD have noticed such intrusions into the ring, is occupied with checking on the condition of Julio Guerrera, who remains sprawled on the canvas as a portrait for all to see the might of PWA. Triple 6 allows Chaz to reach a vertical base (using the ropes as an auxillary limb in order to keep pressure off of his hurting one), but as soon as he does, Vegeta enters the fray. The Icon, still vividly agitated at the mere sight of the corrupter of his son, shoves his fist into Steele's chin. On any given day, chances are that if the two PWA ultra-legends went at it in a pure brawl The Franchise would end up the victor, but that is most definitely not the case here. In fact, the former four time World Champion can do nothing but let his head jerk backwards after each strike from Vegeta, his wild hair flinging from side to side as a result. Triple 6, having taken the role of an observer for the first few seconds of this extremely one-sided exchange decides to join, his left fist making contact with Steele's chin just as soon as Vegeta's right fist departs from the man's jaw. The two PWA loyalists seem to be caught in some sort of trance as their attacks continue. A trance that, unfortunately for The Franchise, seems to be solely focused on bringing as much pain and suffering to Chaz as humanly possible. It seems like they almost ignore the fourth man in this match, the man with, by far, the most to prove. Very bad mistake.

Guerrera, despite having taken the moniker of "The Brute", runs across the ring. Although his speed is obviously affected by the twenty or so extra pounds of mass that his body now contains, his charge is still as fluid and as harsh as ever. The man's feet depart from the canvas about two feet away from his partner's prosecutors, The Brute using those two feet of separation to fold his legs inwards, efficiently exposing his knees. The callous skin which covers said knees quickly rush up to the nape of Triple 6's back, the internal rivalries in this match being made explicitly clear with that maneuver alone. And then, the mat rushes up to meet Vegeta's face. A genuinely surprising Evenflow DDT puts a stop to Vegeta's attack and brings both the predator and the prey onto the mat! A fresh coat of blood begins to trickle out of Vegeta's head, the sheer impact of Chaz's infamous trademark re-opening The Icon's wounds. Chaz rolls Vegeta onto his back. But he doesn't go for the cover. For some impeccable reason, the Sergeant instead decides to focus his attention on bringing himself to a standing base. His arms grabs onto the ropes, the nylon-covered cable wires once again being used as auxiliary limbs in order to help relieve the pressure off of the misanthrope's hurting member. He lets his back fall onto the same ropes he just used to lift himself up, and he juts his arms outwards. A sudden backwards jerk of his head also frees the man's visage of hair, revealing closed eyes and a sick smile that can only be attributed to Steele. The crowd shows their displeasure at the man's arrogance by booing the former four time World Champion. Julio Guerrera shows his displeasure by spitting into his partner's face.

A buckshot of slimy saliva brings a sudden end to Steele's unorthodox mid-match celebration. The Sergeant's eyes peel themselves apart to see Julio Guerrera, his very own partner, standing in front of him. "What the hell are you doing?!", yells the revolutionary. "Pin him!" Steele ignores Julio's command, his gaze simply fixated on his partner's eyes. "God damn it!" are the next and last words out of Julio's mouth. He drops on top of his Owner's still downed body almost immediately after having berated his partner and former mentor for his unfortunate gloating. The referee slides next to the two bodies to commence what may very well be the final pin fall.

1!

The fans once again help the official with that aspect of his job.

2!

The Sergeant's eyes remain on his partner.

*OOC*
And that's a wrap, I think. Are you guys (Vege/Trips) going to be able to RP anymore?

EDIT - G'bye, sig.
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The Notorious PIC
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Still Drunk
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Journey hits the sound system.

Working hard to get my fill,
Everybody wants a thrill
Paying anything to roll the dice,
Just one more time
Some will win, some will lose
Some were born to sing the blues
Oh, the movie never ends
It goes on and on and on and on

Don't stop believin!
Hold on to the feelin!
Streetlight people...

Don't stop -


Scene fades to black and remains for one minute before the Insanity logo appears on screen.

Announcer: Winners of this bout, VEGETA AND TRIPLE 6!!!

Johnny: Tommy Dragon is a fag.

Donny: Yeah, what a sweet win by Vegeta and Trips. They r awesome.
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