KOTDM: Dreamer / Delta

[Dustin Delta]

Dustin flies in on a five headed dragon and stands in a heavenly aurora of light as a family of phoenixes bring him his King of the Deathmatch Championship and very hot, sexy women begin to surround him as he awaits Shawn Dreamer. The dragon turns into a hamburger, which Dustin consumes as he waits.



GIVE ME MY GIMMICK BACK

[x|SHAWN DREAMER|x]

"And his opponent...."

The champion pulls up his knee pads and stares at the entrance tunnel as his opponent of the night, Shawn Dreamer is set to arrive. But just then, the lights all around the arena starts to slowly dim down to darkness, turning the whole place to a realm of pitch black. The crowd let their feelings out as they give out loud screams in unison, letting their complains about the power surge to be voiced. But just then, the large screen by the entrance tunnel flickers to life, with a few words in red slowly appearing over a black backdrop.

"The match is simply nothing but the coronation,
The title win will be nothing more than acknowledging,
The sheer in-ring presence and hardcore nature,
Of the uncrowned Prince of Hardcore!"

The lights come back and the crowd instantly gives out a loud pop, knowing well what's coming their way. The PA system finally goes live as God is a Man by Face to Face bursts out of the speakers all around the arena, getting the crowd to ascend to their heels. The curtain shakes up and the Hardcore Prince steps out to light, with a serious look on his face. He scans the audience, who are solely behind him, and then turns his attention to the ring, where his opponent of the night stands. Staring for a while, the Floridian Extremist marches down the aisle and heads up to the ring, with the fans rallying up by the guard rails to have a touch of their hero.

"From Jacksonville, FL; the Hardcore Prince, SHAWNNNNN DREAMER!"

By then Dreamer had jogged up to the apron and he simply hops up over it, before entering the ring through the middle and the top rope. He wastes no time and positions himself on the corner, waiting for the bell to ring and for the match to commence.

TBC;

[The Masked Marauder]

Before the bell can ring though.....

"Hold it! Hold on just one moment, filthy infidels!"

The voice alone, so crisp and intelligent, and laden with disdain, echoes through the PA system as The Masked Marauder storms out from behind the curtain with microphone in hand. Clasp in his free hand is a piece of paper that he waves frantically in the air as he continues down the isle to the ring. Of course the crowd boos him as he makes his way around the ring and hands the piece of paper to Coors and discusses something with not only him, but the nameless and unimportant timekeeper also.

Matthew: "What the hell is this? Get out of here, man."
Al: "This, my Genius friend, is our resident Islam fanatic and major league asshole. He ruined my lap dance at Dawn of Destruction!"
Collin: "Mine too, then he beat the hell out of us. I'd like to see him try that now though, since we have the great Mattie O here with us. He looks ready to fight, he's in his ring gear. I don't like this a damn bit."

It's true, TMM is clad in his usual ring attire, which consists of basically the same thing as the Immortals wore in the movie "300", with silver mask included. After a bit of off camera discussion, Coors shakes his head "yes" reluctantly and the Sultan of Slaughter lets out a tongue rolling type Arab scream of excitement and turns back toward the ring.

"It seems that since I was unjustly fired for my religious beliefs and my 'reprehensible' actions toward Dominik Santiago exactly one month ago, the lawsuit I filed directly afterward has forced GM Smarky Smark to come to his senses. We've come to an agreement. I will drop the lawsuit if he allows me to compete here TONIGHT in any match of my choosing, and guess what you miscreant piss ants - I pick THIS match!"

The Arab Nightmare leaps onto the apron with mic still in hand and bellows out loudly over the protests from Delta and Dreamer...

"Introducing the FINAL participant! My height and weight need not matter, for I am greatness in the flesh and carry the Sword of Allah. I am The Masked Marauder, and tonight I give all glory, blood, and life to Allah! ALLAH HU AKBAR!!!!"

He drops the mic down to the floor and steps into the ring as the bell chimes, officially starting the contest. Unseen to the viewing audience, backstage Smarky is berating his security detail for incompetence. Someone had ransacked his office, meddling with mainly his paperwork regarding the Total Carnage event, most directly the match contracts.

Al: "This is bullshit! I don't wanna see this guy out here. But I guess we have to right? Oh well, let's just hope Delta and Dreamer can give him what he's due, an ass kicking for the ages."
Matthew: "I've seen stranger things happen in this business. Nothing surprises me anymore. But don't you guys worry, he won't do anything to you while I am out here. If he does, I'll personally do the world a favor and take him out."
Collin: "Oh we know, Mattie O, we know. Hmm, I am looking at that piece of paper he brought down. It's the match contract for this match and TMM's name is on here, he's signed it and it does have a signature in Smarky's slot, but it just doesn't look like his signature. Something is wrong here, something smells fishy."

Continued by Delta or Dreamer.

Disclaimer: After getting approval from Ryan to enter this match, I PM'd both Delta and Dreamer for permisson also. I heard back from Delta who said he is okay with it. I have not heard back from Dreamer, although according to my outbox he has opened and read my PM and has logged onto the site a few times since then. I will take his non yes or no answer as a yes, I guess, since if he'd objected to it he'd already replied with a NO answer.

[x|SHAWN DREAMER|x]

Just as the bell chimes, Dreamer and Delta looks over to each other and nods, seemingly coming into some kind of agreement as the Masked Marauder stands on the opposite side. Wasting no time, the champion and the challenger darts out for the surprise entrant and takes him off-guard with fists and strikes. Soon the Hardcore Prince and the Aerodynamic Blitz takes the upper hand over the Muslim Crusader and takes him down to one knee, with countless number of fists and forearms pelted onto his skull. The Jacksonville native then spews out strategy up toward the Everglades’ pride, to which he simply nods. The two then grabs onto the head of TMM and hoists him up to his heels, before lacing their arms with that of his and throwing him off to the other side. The man from the Worlds Unknown takes a lap of the ring and rebounds off the ropes, before returning back toward Dreamer and Delta. The Floridian duo then laces their arms up and charges up toward Marauder, trying to pull out a double team move. The laced arms crash right onto the neck of TMM and send him down to the canvas with a thud, inflicting pain onto his neck and back of the head region. With the mysterious man down to a prone state, Delta and Dreamer starts to poke him with their boots, sending him rolling under the bottom rope and land outside over the barely-protected floor. The crowd fires up with cheers as TMM lies over the concrete floor and lies lifeless, loving the way how the champion and the challenger took out the one they hate the most. With the threat out of the equation, Delta decides to catch a breather, but is not allowed to take one as the hungry Hardcore Prince kicks him right on the solar plexus, doubling him up.

“Dreamer and Delta did a pretty smart thing out there; they took the Marauder out in the early end and took this match back to the originally scheduled one on one.”

“Smart thing indeed, but it turned out the team-up was for the time being. Dreamer reminded us the golden rule of triple threat matches – it’s every man for himself and its Shawn who’s on top now.”

“But the real deal is that they took out the Masked Marauder! I hate that guy since day one and after what he did to me back at Total Carnage, I simply want to spring out of this booth and want to whack him up!”

“Easy there, Al. You might get paralysed with just a jab.”

With Delta in a bent state, Dreamer balls his fist and sends it right to the side of the skull of the champion, sending him to flop right over the dusty canvas. The jab simply acts like a knock out punch, with Delta lying lifeless over the canvas. The Floridian Extremist shakes his hand in pain right after the hard jab, clearing up that Delta isn’t the only one to get hurt. With every other adversary down and sailing fast in the slumber-land, the former tag champion walks up to the ropes and gets out, before pulling up the skirt of the ring. He bends over, pulls out a pair of Singapore cane and throws one inside the ring, before grabbing the other one with his both hand and stare at it. A sadistic grin appears on the face of the Hardcore Prince as he stares at the stick made of fibres, which gets the crowd to give out a loud pop – they know well that Shawn had found his original self.

“Oh my! This doesn’t look good for neither Delta, nor Marauder! The Hardcore Prince is back!”

“Aye, I remember the days when I was in charge of the show. It was Dreamer who was in the main event in a No Man’s Land match for the King of the Deathmatch title. That look right there brings up memories of the vintage Hardcore Prince.”

“Never liked him, never will! I simply hope Delta retains ‘cause he’s the future of the show, while Dreamer might simply go back to EVPW and throw the belt in the dump.”

“There goes the big barrell of negativity - Big Al Mulligan. You don’t need to show off your sides all the time, man. Besides it’s just the beginning of the match.”

Breaking the gaze, Shawn pushes the cane inside the ring, before starting to walk over to the other side, where a huge fibre-wood board with barbed wire embedded in it. As he draws near, he bends over and starts to pick up the board, before trying to push it inside the ring. It takes a little sweat, but in the end, Dreamer successfully slides the board inside the ring. He then takes a look of the things going on in the squared circle – Delta is almost up on one knee, while he can’t see the Masked Marauder around. Without wasting a breath, the Jacksonville’s pride hops onto the apron and tries to get inside the ring.

But surprisingly enough, the reigning champion springs up to his heels like a jackrabbit and charges off toward Dreamer out of desperation, knowing it’s now or never. He gets his arm outstretched like a falcon and smashes the forearm right onto the face of Dreamer, getting him to see stars right in front of his eyes. Even though the shot was hell hard, the Technical Extremist somehow retains the hold of the top rope on his left hand and hangs on, trying his best to evade the crash land. Using his head to the fullest, the cruiserweight simply reels back to the ropes and bounces back, gaining momentum on the recoil. The EVPW veteran could only stare as the man hailing from the skies of Everglades simply goes low and throws his boots to his shin, taking him down on his knees over the apron. The former EVO rookie then grabs onto the skull of Dreamer and pulls him in a little through the middle rope, before locking his arm around his neck. With the front facelock perfectly locked, Delta grabs onto the opening of the tights of Shawn and starts to pull him inward, before getting him to be perpendicular with his boots resting over the ropes. The Courier of Controversy then falls back and in turn smashes Dreamer’s head right onto the barbed wire board with a thud, executing a sick Rope Hung DDT.

“Oh well, Dreamer isn’t smiling anymore! I knew it was Dustin who would retain in the end. He holds the title for a reason and there’s simply no way ass-wipes like Dreamer or that Muslim bastard can win this one.”

“Well, I hate the Masked Marauder as much as you do, Al; but I’d love a little competition here. That DDT was pretty sick, I agree; but that’s not the end of Dreamer as I feel.”

“Guys, you gotta know that these guys are hungry lions and they would do every human possible thing to win this one. I know Dreamer, I know Delta, even though I haven’t watched much of the Marauder, I have heard of his wrath and I can safely bet this one to be a close one.”

“The genius has spoken! This is ought to be a good one for sure! But still, I hate the MASKED MARAUDER!”

The Hardcore Prince simply rolls over after the impact and reveals a deep gush on his forehead, with a little blood oozing out. Delta sits up and gives out a cocky grin, with Dreamer screaming in pain right beside him. The Cruiserweight then gingerly gets up on his heels and points at his dome with his index finger – its brains that separated him from Shawn. The crowd simply rallies up with boos as Dustin shows his cockiness at them, showing how much they hate his arrogance. Meanwhile, the Masked Marauder springs up to his feet and slides under the bottom rope, being completely unnoticed by the radar of Delta. Upon getting in, the Jihadist strafes to the right and retrieves a Singapore Cane, before aligning right behind the champion.

Done messing with the crowd, Dustin turns around and instantly gets a high-voltage shock – its The Masked Marauder standing right behind him! The cocky smile instantly wipes away and a feared look takes over the visage of the cruiserweight – even way faster than a chameleon would change colour. But before Dustin could make a move, Marauder smashes the fibre stick right onto the forehead of his foe, getting him to stumble back to the ropes. The Aerodynamic Blitz simply bounces off the ropes right after hitting it and returns groggily back to his nemesis, being totally dazed. With retribution written all over in the eyes hidden behind the façade, the mysterious Crusader simply grabs around the neck of the champion and pulls him up in the air by the hold of his tights. The Arab Nightmare then turns by ninety degrees, facing the plank embedded with barbed wire, and sends the EVO graduate down with authority. The crowd rises up to their feet to get a better look as Dustin simply gets planted with a huge chokeslam, down over the barbed wire board. His system arches up right after the impact, and the air turns heavy as he screams at the top of his voice. Unison chants of “Holy Shit!” along with a few muffled jeers, flies from all around the arena as the Masked Marauder stands tall, once again making it clear that he’s here to win this one.

“I doubt if Delta would be available for the next Combat after the pay-per-view! This one is sick!”

“Trust me, Fuzz; it really hurts. When those barbed wire loops simply tears through your flesh, it stings like hell! Plus, the bump that Delta took might heal after a week or so, but the scars would stay forever.”

“You have been in the receiving end of many such bumps, Matt and I, for one, remember almost all of them. Do you think that these men would be on one piece after this one?”

“I don’t know… Every single one of them look as hungry as a shark. I hope these guys are okay after the match.”

The Masked Marauder raises his arms up high and screams out “ALLAH-HU-AKBAR!” while the other two counterparts of the match lie beside him being comatose.

TBC;

[Dustin Delta]

With the current King of the Deathmatch Champion almost surely out of comission, Marauder sets his evil gaze upon the Hardcore Prince. The Jihadist reaches down to the mat, grabbing the fellow challenger by his neck and pulling him to his knees. The competitor who hails from Worlds Unknown drops to one knee whilst spinning quickly, connecting with a back fist to the face of Shawn. The Jacksonville native holds his nose as T.M.M. retrieves the Singapore Cane which was used prior in the match. Dreamer grips his right hand on the second rope, using it as support as he returns to his feet. Showing no mercy, the Masked Marauder runs at the Floridian contender with the cane, pressing it into his neck as he pushes him back into the north western corner of the ring. As the Cut Squad member tries to catch his breath, the unknown TNT superstar draws the cane back in a fashion similar to a baseball bat, and smacks it relentlessly into the side of the head of Shawn Dreamer. The audience explodes in hating boo's, and begin to chant "U.S.A!" as Marauder let's out a mighty screech; "أنا في نهاية المطاف!"

The Jihadist challenger dawns a devious smile and turns back to face Dreamer. Marauder irish whips Shawn to the southern ropes, and as the Floridian returns, T.M.M. ducks under his feet, and as he kips back up, locks the other contender in a Full Nelson, perhaps going for a suplex of some sort. The Jacksonville native struggles, writhing and wriggling around in the Masked Superstar's arms. Shawn and Marauder fall back onto the mat, and T.M.M. capatalizes, locking in body scissors as well. Dreamer cries out in pain, but when the official asks if he'd like to tap out or quit, he refuses curtly. The Senseless Savage keeps the hold locked in though, showing no compassion or remorse whatsoever. On the other side of the ring, Dustin is trying desperately to reach his feet. Marauder keeps a cautious eye on Delta, who now pulls the last of barb-wire out of his sides and back. Finally, the Jihadist releases Shawn and begins to stalk the King, prepared to take him out of action again.

"Dustin! Dustin! Damnit, kid, look behind you!"

"It seems to me like Marauder has this match in the bag! He's been dominating ever since he was announced as the surprise third man!"

"If Smarky Smark hadn't fired him in the first place, he wouldn't have to be RUINING this match right now! Geez, what a General Manager..."

Double D plants both his feet firmly on the mat, and Marauder charges at him. Dustin looks over his shoulder and almost instantly tugged down the top rope, and T.M.M. goes sailing over, to ringside. Delta runs back, running the ropes behind him. He dashes back and leaps over the ropes, flipping forward. He cascades down to the Masked Marauder with a high angle senton, knocking them both down and barely missing a Taipei Table. The Human Fighter Jet kips up and sets his sights on the Table, thinking of ways to methodically and devilishly put the challenger through it. He has no time to act on those malignant thoughts, though, as Belial comes running at the champion. Delta delivers a stiff kick to the head of Belial, almost as a natural reaction. The Deathmatch Majesty hoists the high-flyer up and lays him softly on the Table, a plan being put into action. Dustin begins to drag Marauder under the wooden structure, but the imperious and triumphant behemoth known as Sonneillion enters the scene, jumping over the crowd barrier. Double D slowly backs away, unsure of how to take care of this monster of a man. Fortunately, he won't have to do it alone, as Shawn Dreamer jumps over the ropes, taking out the mastodon with a shoulder block.
Now co-existing, the two Floridians pick the drudge up over their shoulders and place him atop Belial. With the Masked Marauder underneath, the both ascend to the top turnbuckles. They look over at eachother and give an approving nod, and lift off. The speed downwards towards the table and the Sons of Darkness, a double diving elbow sending Sonneillion and Belial down and crushing the Jihadist, the air forced out of his lungs as all four hundred eighty pounds of his cronies fall unto him.

"Guys, I'm not an easily impressed man...but that was damn impressive! It was thought-out and effective!"

"Well, Matt, veracity lies in the statement that two heads are better than one."

"Really, it was a pernicious assault by Dreamer and Delta. But now we return to the original scheduled match, and I don't see that changing anytime soon. Nearly five hundred pounds of unconscious flesh is crushing The Masked Marauder right now. It'd take superhuman forces to get that off of him..."

Dustin extends an arm towards Dreamer, offering a handshake. The Jacksonville native is hesitant, not sure if he is able to trust Delta. Slowly, Shawn reaches out and meets the Everglades Exemplar's hands. Instantly, Shawn's cautiousness is given reason, as Double D hits a sucker punch. Whilst the Prince of Hardcore is dazed, the King of the Deathmatch swings his right leg up, a stiff kick connecting to the temple of the Leigon member. The Living Nightmare staggers back into the security barricade, and Delta looks around at ringside. Passing by the mess that was once called the Sons of Darkness, the Human Fighter Jet picks up a 2x4, covered in barb-wire and tacks. The King smirks methodically and picks it up carefully, clutching the wooden weapon in his hands, bloody and sweaty. Delta turns back to Shawn, prepared to deal damage.

[The Masked Marauder]

Dustin swings the damage dealing weapon at Dreamer's skull, missing his target just barely as Shawn ducks at the last nanosecond. The erroneous strike almost wallops an innocent fan in the head, causing the patron, as well as many others, to scatter from the immediate area just to be on the safe side. The Hardcore Prince, hurting, bitter and needing something huge to get back into the driver's seat, hastily secures his off balanced foe into a waistlock from behind. Delta tries to squirm and counter but Shawn is too big and too strong. With tremendous exertion and a primal roar, the Cut Squad member lifts up his much, much lighter adversary and reclines backward, chucking Dustin as far as he can into the area vacated just moments ago. The Human Fighter Jet hurtles through the air, flesh and steel bending and almost breaking against one another as he lands with a spectacular bang and crash into the forest of metallic curves and flats normally used for seating GHW's clientele. The fans descend upon him, awed and chanting "HOLY SHIT!" while urging him to continue - the latter demand a monumental one even for a Deathmatch Superman.

Collin: "The Human Fighter Jet just got shot down by the Human Air Defense System, Shawn Dreamer. That was sickening."
Matt: "A German Suplex into the seats - damn, that was DELICIOUS, not sickening! Finally, after playing third man behind Delta and that Arab thus far in the match, the Hardcore Prince has established himself, and it's gonna be hard to come back from something like that."
Big Al: "I'm pretty damn sure the champ wouldn't call what just happened to him, 'delicious'. But, oh well, he's come back from worse and won in the end, so just chalk this up to luck on Dreamer's part, nothing more."

After malingering for a bit to properly recuperate, the former GHW tag champion stands tall and surveys the scene, trying to decide between following up on the KOTDM champion, or picking the bones of the Arab Nightmare. Not wanting to wade through over 500 pounds of humanity, the Prince of Hardcore choses to go after his original opponent, and begins to look around to ascertain the whereabouts of the wire clad 2x4 the champion had tried to brain him with. Unable to find it in a timely manner, the Legion main-stay abandons the search and slithers over the security barrier, kicking and tossing chairs out of his way as he hunts down his prey. He finds Delta sprawled out yet conscious, trying to regain the awareness of his physical whereabouts. Growling with frustration, Shawn yanks him up and traps his arms at his sides whilst hefting him up to eye level. Dreamer rears his head back and brings it forth, careening his noggin into the champion's visage repeatedly, punishing him for his superhuman resillence, and drawing new blood. The slew of headbutts continue for a short time, then alas he releases him and tosses him like ragdoll toward the barricade. The security apparatus is the only thing that keeps Dustin standing as the challenger rushes toward him, heaving himself into the air with his right knee taking the lead - a Harley Race knee strike inbound. The Everglades Exemplar evades by simply side stepping to the left, Shawn sailing right past him over the barricade. The Cut Squader manages to land on his feet, but stumbles a bit in order to recover his balance. This small window of opportunity is all the Deathmatch Superman needs to bring things back into his favor. Swiftly jumping onto the top portion of the railing and using it as a launching pad, the defyer of gravity soars through the vastness of space in front of him, forward flipping and grabbing onto Dreamer's head in the process. As he plummets downward, he brings his catch with him, driving his head and neck into the quagmire of wooden items strewn about the ringside area.

The desperate, electrifying neck breaker variation elicits a torrent of cheers from the Boston crowd, but their favorite lies motionless also, his inertia inert due to the toil his body has taken thus far. Chants of "Let's go Delta!" kick up, bringing the Floridian back from the depths of darkness. He kips up, copiously bleeding but full of vigorous volition. He leans over and claims a pair of wooden nunchucks, specially made with one end littered with smalls tacks, glass shards and other tiny sharp things. Double D belts out a warrior's yell while whirling the weapon like a true martial arts expert, before bringing the modified end crashing down across Shawn's exposed abdomen with truculent force. The hellish impact ushers in excruciating pain across Dreamer's midsection, while also piercing and ripping away some of his exposed epidermis. The former Tag Team champion rolls onto his stomach to protect it, but only offers up a new area for his tormentor to exploit. Greedily, the Champion of the Deathmatches rains down shot after shot with the morbid item, all of them connecting along the entire expanse of the challenger's back, each paying the same dividends as the initial blow. The Jacksonville native wails in unfathomable agony as he convulses in place, thrashing wildly in a bid to rid himself of the champion's wrath. He battles through the withering storm, powering to a vertical base long enough to turn tail and slide into the ring. Dustin discards the Ninja Turtle weapon and follows suit, quickly seizing Shawn's foot. He plots out a submission hold and tries to initate it, but the scrambling Dreamer uses his free foot to push him away. Now somewhat distanced, the Hardcore Prince trudges to his feet as fast as possible, only to see his foe vaulting from the second cable, twisting once and bringing his forearm into the forefront - European uppercut style. The Human Fighter Jet is just too blazingly quick to counter, and the shot jars the Cut Squad member's head back harshly, his feet betraying him, coercing him onto his back like a timbering tree.

Big Al: "To blatantly steal a line from a certain palsy victim from Oklahoma.... 'He's beating him like a government mule'. This is why Dustin Delta is a breed unlike any other. I told you he'd been through worse and would come back, and he has. Just look at him in there. He's lacerated Dreamer's back and stomach with that nunchuck. Come on Matt, that was impressive."
Matt: "Impressive and Barbaric. I like it. It's tenacity like this that separates the men from the boys, and right now I can honestly say Delta is THE MAN."
Collin: "Then he turns around and delivers a magnificent springboard European uppercut. He may just be pound for pound the best we have in GHW, period. He- wait, oh no. Guys, look! NOOOO!"

Yes, Belial and Sonneillon had moved, just barely, but enough to roll themselves off of their pride and joy who still lies interred under the debris of the table. The incognizant Mid East Beast sticks his head up, his gritted teeth opening up wide, as his mouth gapes simultaneously with the unclenching of his eyes. The Nefarious Persian takes forever and a day to wobble up to his feet, but cleverly conceals himself at ringside once vertical, eying the Courier of Controversy that is slowly ascending the turnbuckles. Bending down, The Masked Marauder takes control of a random weapon, which happens to be a old school style wooden chair, from wrestling's days of yore. As the Everglades Exemplar bends at the knees and bunches his leg muscles to prepare for his Blaze of Glory signature move, the Sultan of Slaughter hurls the chair through the atmosphere, the wooden relic cutting through the air fraught with enmity. The weapon collides with the side of Dustin Delta, causing a loud, harsh “CRACK” sound to echo throughout the arena as the chair is shattered and the champion is ruthlessly expelled from his pedestal. As Double D hurtles downward, he somersaults "involuntarily" right through a regular table, selling the spot like the good little worker that he is. The crowd is hushed into a cowed silence, despondent over what they'd witnessed, as the man from the Land of Allah eyes Shawn Dreamer wallowing around in the ring and quickly goes to work. Scanning the area, he notices a table set up at ringside, and it's covered with everything under the sun ... barbed wire, razor wire, concertina wire, tacks, glass, nails and all the fixings. However, it is missing one thing. Turning on his heels, TMM sifts through the robe of his battered mentor and pulls out a bottle of flammable fluid and a match book, articles they'd brought down for their insidious plans made earlier. The spectators, animals themselves, erupt into a mixed reaction as the Arab Nightmare empties all the contents of the container onto the table then strikes a match and the book itself, producing fire that he hastily tosses onto the wooden structure. A massive wall of flames emerge from the evil concoction, inducing a thrill of psychotic excitement deep down in that cold black heart of the Arabic Asshole. The Marauder raises his hands to Allah, drawing strength from him whilst tongue rolling a loud prayer to him. This, of course, instigates a new round of jeers.

The Masked Marauder rolls into the ring to retrieve one of the men that had put him out of commission for so long. The Hardcore Prince, on one knee and seemingly out of it still, suddenly bursts upward and spins, drilling an enormous Kendo stick into the skull of the ominous Muslim that nears him. He slams it against his head a second time, then a third, hitting each side. The fans get into it, elated and shouting "OOOHH!" with each murderous blast. Allah's right hand man begins bringing his arms up, blocking some of the next barrage but failing to block the ones to his ribs and thighs, a change in tactics that only a seasoned Hardcore Prince would pick up on. The onslaught soon renders the Kendo stick broken and unserviceable, much like the victim it was brought against, so the Floridian whacks him one last time and drops it, then steps back. With the hated Marauder draped against the ropes, listless and wholly defeated and demoralized, the 289 pounder runs headlong at him. At the desired distance from him, Dreamer side steps and thrusts his leg up and out, his patented "Sweet Dreams" superkick on yet another voyage to victory. On instinct and instinct alone, TMM reaches up and grabs his foot in the knick of time, thwarting the glorious plans he had made. The Agent of Allah torpidly pushes the foot away from him, but doesn't have quite enough in the tank to come up with a quick enough counter. However, Dreamer does. Instantaneously, the Prince of Hardcore reclaims his footing and uncorks a rushing Lariat straight from hell itself. The monstrous momentum sends the Marauder spilling over the top rope, but sadly Shawn also. The two combatants free fall without a parachute right through the fiery conflagration created by the fanatical mind of the Mid East Beast. The crowd voice their sick pleasure at seeing this, each tongue exclaiming profoundly how Holy that Shit is as the ring crew enter the scene, spraying anything that moves with their fire extinguishers.

Matt: "Fucking shit! Holy FUCKING shit! I knew there was a chance of this happening, one of these men crossing that 'line', but that was almost too damn much. That Marauder is a sadistic bastard."
Big Al: "And that wasn't just a table set ablaze. It had all kinds of demented stuff piled on it also. You know they are not only burned, but cut up some too. Imagine getting cut open by some of the things on that table, THEN getting those wounds seared by scorching heat. Holy FUCKING shit is correct, Mattie O! We need the champ over here, these guys are easy pickings for him now. Come on, Delta, get up. Stop napping over there."
Collin: "I just don't understand it. The sacrifice Shawn just made. Hell, that they ALL have made. All of it for a leather belt fashioned with a gold face. I'll never understand it."
Matt: "Which is also why you never have been, nor ever will be a Fighty fighty person. Definitely not one in this type of environment anyway. It's not for everybody, Fuzz. It takes a certain type of man."

TBCB Dreamer or Delta.

[Dustin Delta]

I get the post after Dreamer then. :3

[x|SHAWN DREAMER|x]

Soon the cloud of fire retardants dissolves in thin air, leaving the bodies of the challengers to be visible under light. The Masked Marauder simply lies over the wood chunks with his eyes shut, apparently unconscious. Wires and glass beads of all sorts are seen to be sticking around his back, ripping through his attire and going through his soft skin. The Hardcore Prince however shows little signs of life as he is seen to twitch over the unpadded floor. He bears the mark of the bump he took – his skin had turned red from the burn and from the looks of his face, it hurts real lot.

While the challengers are lying dead, the champion with a crimson mask slowly gets up on his one knee and eyes the carnage ahead of him. Dustin then gingerly gets onto his heels and starts to walk over to his adversary, with a huge grin on his face – as if he had seen the end of the match. Upon drawing close to the debris and the fallen bodies, he bends over and grabs onto the skull of the Middle Eastern, before pulling up the Allah’s right hand man and throwing him inside the ring under the bottom rope. The Aerodynamic Blitz then pulls out a loop of barbed wire from the shreds of wood and razors and wraps it up around his arms. He then looks at it and throws a huge grin, before hopping up on the apron and starting to ascend the turnbuckles. As he reaches the top of the world, he simply looks down and finds his opponent still on his slumber, with not a single sign of life on his system. The champion then cocks his elbow and dives off from the top rope, letting gravity to do the rest. Delta soars through the brisk air and connects right onto back of TMM, getting him to jolt up in pain. The official looks on as Dustin simply rolls the Middle Eastern and hooks up his legs, trying to score the first pinfall of the match. The referee quickly slides down at the point and starts to register the pin, looming the apparent end of the match.

“He has got the pin, Al! This match just might be over!”

“But the best part here is the Masked Manglar is getting pinned! Come on Dustin, get retribution for me and Collin, and beat that ass-wipe for good!”

“Guys, it’s just the first pinfall of the match. Even though it might seem that it would take a lot to kick out for Marauder after that sick bump, I say he would find a way and get back to the match.”

“Don’t say a word, Matt! Don’t say a word!”

ONE!!

TWO!!

THR---!!

Before the referee’s palm could hit for the third time, his legs get pulled and in turn, dragged out of the ring. The official simply crashes over the rough concrete nose first as the Hardcore Prince pulls him out of the squared circle in utter desperation. He had to stop the pin, and that simply was the way he could do it. Without wasting anytime, the Hardcore Prince grabs the 2x4 with tacks and nails attached from the floor and charges inside the ring, where Dustin still has Marauder hooked.

The champion simply looks confused as there was no sign of the third count. He lets the leg of Marauder go, and tries to get up… but no, he is flopped down to the canvas with a huge blow to the back. The Floridian Extremist, who had sneaked inside the ring, nails the champion down with a shot of the 2x4, ripping through the skin of Delta in the process. Dustin simply squirms in pain as Shawn follows up the shot with another, getting the tacks to dig through his flesh and bust up scars. The former tag champion simply looks on at Delta as he screams out in pain and blood starts to burst out of the newly made scars, erupting up like lava in a volcano. With no remorse on his eyes, Dreamer drops the 2x4 over the top rope and starts to pelt his boot around the impact region, gaining a sharp scream from the cruiserweight with each stomp. Oozing a little more of crimson from the scars, the seasoned extremist stops after six stomps and starts to heave the former EVO rookie up on his heel. Being dazed, the Everglades native gets up on his jelly limbs before bending over upon receiving a hard shot of the boot from Dreamer on his sternum. The veteran from Jacksonville then pulls the head of Dustin between his legs and hooks his arms on his back before lifting him up upright. Dreamer turns around by one-hundred and eighty degrees and drives Delta face first onto the board with barbed wire embedded on it, getting his body to be slammed hard against the sharp wire. The crowd gives out a loud “OOOOOH!” in unison as the “original” challenger takes down the champion with a spinning double underhook slam onto the barbed wire board.

“That’s the reason why the fans are advised not to replicate what the Fighty fighty persons do in the ring. Dustin would probably wake up tomorrow in a medical facility with his head taped and his body bandaged.”

“Oh well, I can say a lot about it, but I’d cut short. It hurts like hell after taking a bump as such, and I’m sure it would take long for Delta to get back to his regular life. He would be feeling the after effects for a long time.”

“Indeed, I can’t believe having myself slammed in such a way! But yeah, I’m proud to say that Hardcore is well alive in GHW and guys like Dreamer and Delta are paving the path you once rolled through, Matt.”

“Oh well, some things never die, Al.”

The Human Fighter Jet screams out in pain as he rolls away from the board, ripping away the wires that pricked through his soft skin and in turn, opens up a few more new wounds too. The Hardcore Prince simply stares at his suffering foe for a while, before walking up to him and rubbing his palm across the forehead of Dustin, collecting a little crimson from his adversary. He then rubs the blood across his chest and lets out a huge roar, to which the crowd responds with a huge pop. The veteran one then turns around and instantly receives a huge boot to the face, courtesy to the Jihadist, which in turn gets the crowd to utter silence. The Muslim Crusader looks down at Dreamer through his mask and pulls him up by his hair, before giving him a thrust backward. Shawn, being a little dazed after the boot, complies with Marauder’s wish and reels backward to the ropes, before bouncing back off the trio. The Jihadist simply grabs Dreamer around his waist as he rebounds back to him and lifts him up before slamming him back first onto the canvas with a thud. The Cut Squad member gives out a loud shriek as he is driven to the mat with a hard Spine Buster by Marauder. TMM then gets up and screams “ALLAH-HU-AKBAR!” whilst eyeing the crowd, gaining a round of boos from the audience.

“DAMN! The Masked Asshole is back! I HATE YOU, MARAUDER! GRRR!”

“Easy, Al. You don’t want him to beat you up after the match.”

“Oh yeah?! At least I’ve got you with me this time! You can go even with that prick, without Collin and me helping you.”

Saying his lord’s name, the Middle Eastern Beast marches up to the ropes and gets outside the squared hell, pulling up the skirt of the ring as his heels hit the floor. He looks around under the ring for a while, before pulling out a baseball bat with nails embedded on it. The Arab Nightmare stares at the bat for a while and then starts climbing over the apron, with the weapon welded within his grip. But what he fails to realise is that the Hardcore Prince has recovered from the big boot and he charges back at him, with rage glittering within his pupils. Marauder simply doesn’t get a chance to get inside as Dreamer floors him with a hard lariat to the face, sending him onto the concrete floor again.

With blood boiling under his skin, the Hardcore Prince evacuates from the ring and gets outside, before starting to nail the Allah’s right hand man with stomps all over. After nailing him with around five stomps, Shawn pushes his boot onto the throat of Marauder, choking him in the process. Meanwhile, in the ring, the Everglades’ champion gingerly gets up on his heels and scans the ringside area. Spotting his adversaries, the Human Fighter Jet charges off to the ropes on the other side and rebounds back with momentum backing up against him. With his new found speed, Delta launches himself between the middle and top rope like a torpedo and lands head and neck first onto Dreamer and Marauder, taking them both out. The crowd breaks out a chant of “THIS IS CRAZY!” from all corners as all three combatants lie lifeless on the floor, covered with blood, sweat and a little tear.

“These guys deserve a standing ovation for sure. They have put their bodies on the line, they have taken bumps, they have taken shots after shots, but this match is still on! I’d put my hats off at them – these boys have made me proud.”

“Well, there have been words around the back that Hardcore is dead, but folks, it’s not. Delta, Dreamer and Marauder are putting on a show that none of us will soon forget, and I’m sure my colleagues would agree with me.”

“Putting all the hatreds aside, I do agree, Collin. But I would love to see Dustin come up on top, regardless anything. That kid has been working hard day and night, in comparison to that Arab fucktard and the washed up Dreamer.”

“There you go, defending your sides again!”

TBC;