House of Horrors 3-way Dance! Tracks/Delta/???

[Jack Tracks]

In a show of surprising efficiency, by the time Triumph has returned from commercial, the entire ring had been converted into a horrible playground, surrounded by weapons hanging from strands of barbed wire. It's a gruesome sight all by itself, so one can only imagine how much worse it'll be when the competitors get their hands on it!

"The following is your House of Horrors match!"

The arena lights dim, as the strobes sweep over the arena. "Don't Stop Me Now" kicks in, as the first competitor is announced.



The lights continue through the intro, but once the song kicks into high gear, so does the arena itself!The lights flash a wide range of colors, the crowd clapping with the song. Jack Tracks bursts out of the gorilla position, fist in the air, pumping with the crowd. The King of the Road dashes to the ring, sliding under the bottom rope and hopping to his feet. He nearly runs to the turnbuckle, but realizes that the House of Horrors set up would make that a bad idea. He chuckles, but then just raises his arm towards the crowd,before tossing his jacket aside.

"Tracks looks to be in strangely good spirits tonight. How can you be smiling in a match like this?"

"Well I spoke to Jack earlier, and he said that he's actually very excited to be facing Hayden Hardcore himself in this match. Even with a mystery opponent involved, I know he's looking forward to squaring off with the former champ after so long. Add to that the H-Games qualifier also on the line here, and he's got alot to be excited about!"

"Well we'll see how long he keeps that high spirit up when we find out who the third man is going to be."

[The Rock Messiah ®]

Jack Tracks stands in the middle of the ring, raring to go so to speak, spoiling for a fight. And he would get one, considering the fact that one of his opponents was the legend himself, Hayden Hardkore, a multiple time King of Deathmatches and a grizzled veteran known for his huge spots and hardcore wrestling expertise. What Tracks didn't know however, was the identity of the third man in what was built up to be a historic Triple Threat Match. The anonymous superstar would make said match-up an interesting one, due to his anonymity, and the fact that neither of his opponents could be prepared for him. The element of surprise was a ball that was in his court, and both Hayden and Tracks would have to adapt to his proverbial ballgame. But that realization and knowledge did little to hinder Jack's confidence, as the up and coming young star remained steadfast in his belief that he could hang with the best of them, and could beat anybody on any given night. And the crowd was behind him, cheering loudly and boisterous. That was until the acoustic distortion of the commencing first guitar riff in Grand Funk Railroad's "Sin's A Good Man's Brother" sends shockwaves through the arena.

~"Big" Al Mulligan}- "And this must be the "Mystery" superstar. I'm giddy with anticipation Colin. Rumor on the internet is that it could be Vladimir Strife, or Dave Carter. I've even seen Rhaps!"

~Colin "The Fuzz Jennings:}- "Don't believe everything you read on the internet Al. They once said we'd be replacing you on commentary with a hot blond. That never came to fruition."

The camera shakes from the announce table, where Colin and Al sit in a state of both anxiety and confusion, and if they did somehow know the identity of the emerging competitor, they were selling their incognizance well. It transitions to the entrance stage in the most unsteady fashion. Their befuddlement is coupled with the curiosity of the fans, whose attention is captivated by the peculiar tune. The substantial suspense suddenly ceases, whilst the mounted tension is cut with the proverbial knife. The volume of the crowd reaches new decibels as the figure behind the music suddenly surfaces. Clothed in knee length yellow shorts, and yellow vest jacket opened to reveal an extremely hairy chest, a pink scarf and his iconic Retro Super Future Sunglasses, is the one of a kind, charistmatic, enigmatic, self-absorbed, third person speaking, shag-wagon driving, 70's rocking hunk that's been absent from GHW programming for over a year. Standing before the enthusiastic Boston spectators is a man known to abide by no rules or regulations, who is who is completely self-centered and superficial, who’s allegiance and respect for anyone lasts as long as a lit cigarette. Standing before them was none other than Magnus Gunner.

~"Big" Al Mulligan}-"AM I SEEING THIS COLIN? THIS IS SURREAL? IT'S HIM!"

~Colin "The Fuzz" Jenings}- "THE ROCK MESSIAH HAS RETURNED TO GLORY AND HONOR WRESTLING..."

~Charlie Coors}- "Introducing next, making his GHW return, he hails from from Detroit Michigan, he is the "Rock Messiah"...MAGNUS GUNNER!"

The electric guitar kicks in as Gunner slowly removes his shades in a smooth, swaggering fashion before tossing them into the crowd, cocky yet sophisticated as he stands tall at the apex of the ramp. Despite being blared throughout the arena, the passionate signing of Mark Farner is quite inaudible due to the pandemonium of noise created by the ruckus crowd.

Ain't seen a night,
Things work out right, go by....
Things on my mind,
And I just don't have the time,
And it don't seem right.

Gunner soaks in the moment for as long as he can, his traditional smug, pompous smirk manifesting on his mug in wake of the avidity and tumult of the arena surrounding his aura of euphoria. Gunner briefly peers into the outskirts of the arena before commencing his saunter to the ring. Magnus marches around the outside of the ring before stopping at the steel stairs. He gingerly massages his porn star inspired mustache before suddenly throwing his arms into the air, both hands having his index and pinky fingers extended whilst his ring and middle fingers held down by his thumbs, throwing up the metal horns and holding the hand gesture as his head tilts to the heavens above.

Ain't seen a day,
That I don't hear people say,
They know they're gonna' die.
This may seem a little bit crazy,
But I don't think we should be so lazy.
If you think you've heard this before,
Well, stick around I'm gonna' tell you more.

The Michigander drops his arms to his side, and then proceeds to climb the stairs, each stamp of his feet on the steel in a rhythmical fashion. The Rock Messiah ambles along the outside of the ropes, leisurely strolling along the apron before reaching the center. He wipes his feet along the apron as if he were royalty and were gracing the fans with his mere presence before stepping through the middle and top ropes, entering GHW's squared hell for the first time in what seemed like an eternity for the Loaded Pistol. Gunner passes his fingertips along the ring cable, beginning to reminisce about past battles, wars and scores settled in the very ring he stands in. The trip down memory lane brings out a brimmed, haughty grin. His grasp on the ropes gradually diminishes before he heads over to the corner, raising his hand into the air, prompting a microphone to be tossed in his direction by the nearest stagehand. He catches it in the air, clutching the proverbial pipebomb in his hands once again as he gazes out at the packed arena. The music begins to fade, as if it hadn't already been drowned out by the noise level of the crowd. He briefly adjusts his collar, his emanation of self-gratified protruding from him just as it used to. Gunner raises his freehand into the air, signaling for the crowd to quiet down. The volume slowly reduces to a level which meets Magnus' satisfaction. He then looks at Jack Tracks, the brash, blue chipper eyeing the Detroit native down with a murderous expression plastered on his face. Magnus simply scoffs to himself, and having commanded the crowd's undivided attention, he puts his hand down, simultaneously raising the microphone to his mouth and speaking, his voice confident and powerful.

"Ladies and Gentleman... TRIUMPH... JUST BECAME GROOVY AGAIN!

The audience cheers, in their normal mindless sheep mode, evoking a disingenuous smile, as the man at the center of the arena's esteem could cared less about the spectators and more about inflating his ego.

"And Mr. Tracks... I'm about to Shatter your Records... and make you Truly Shagadelic! And this time, everyone will see it coming!

Magnus drops the microphone, before tossing his scarf into the crowd. The arena had just been put on notice, and the "Rock Messiah" just made his intentions clear in emphatic fashion - he was here to win the H-Games.

TBCB Hayden Hardkore

[Hayden]

No sooner had Magnus finished spraying his pheromones all over the front row of the audience, an all to familiar song hits. In contrast to the song of the mystery opponent, the third song to play over the PA System receives an instant reaction from the capacity crowd. As soon as the blaring guitar churns out CKY's "96 Quite Bitter Beings" the noise from the crowd drown out the song, as all in attendance rise to their feet to welcome back the future Hall-of-Famer.



"Introducing finally. Making his return to Tuesday Night Triumph after a long hiatus. Hailing from Wellington, New Zealand and weighing in at one hundred and ninety two pounds.

Hayden Hard-Kore!"

Hayden appears in a cloud of smoke, pushing through the barrier with his palms as he steps through the entrance-way. He bobs in time with his music, swaying from side to side as he springs his way down to the front of the entrance stage. Taking large steps as if walking through mud, the Kiwi Legend points out over his waves of loyal fans till his eyes fall upon the two men in the ring.

Instantly, his expression changes. He eyes up his once protege, Magnus Gunner and looks to make up for lost time. Making a beeline for the duo in the ring, the Kiwi sets off for the squared circle, the house of horrors awaiting his entry. As he does so, the returning Gunner keeps a weary eye on the crafty veteran, knowing that the Kiwi is unpredictable at the best of times. Hayden's entry is without incident, however, as the Kiwi sets his sights on the cheering fans instead. He makes sure that as the match is set to kick off, he climbs up atop each of the turnbuckles and waves periodically at the adoring masses before turning his mind back to the action at hand.

"Hayden HardKore also making his return tonight. One of these two me is not quite going to have the return that they expected."

"Or both, aren't you forgetting Jack Tracks? Both of these men could leave tonight with their tails between their legs. Hayden and Magnus have a long list of history together... Let's hope they can keep their mind focused on the match at hand and not let their emotions get the better of them.

"Or Tracks will swoop down and snap the win out from under their noses."

Tracks and Gunner both wait with limited patience as the Kiwi finishes his peacock-like strutting for the fans. When HardKore comes to a natural end-point, the trio are stationed in the center of the ring, each not risking the first move. The referee steps in between the men, trying his best to gain control over a match that already threatens to ignore him.

With a ring of the bell, the match begins - with an impending feeling that all hell is about to break loose.

TBC

[The Rock Messiah ®]

OOC: Never seen a "House of Horrors" so I just referenced this GHW Match for the basic ring set up and rules.

---

Magnus couldn’t help himself from stirring up his former mentor, Hayden Hardkore. The Rock Messiah approaches the Kiwi, talking trash and ushering obscenities unable to be discerned underneath the chirping of the crowd. The Michigander quickly shoves the legend back, his chest protruding out, clearly smelling himself as he sneers at the much shorter New Zealander. Never one to be intimidated, Double H shoved Gunner back, raising his nose high in his own swaggering type fashion. In retaliation, the self-imposed rocker strikes Hayden across the face, knocking the taste out of his mouth with the blatant open palm slap, and more importantly, a contemptuous display. Hardkore smiles as every battle he’s had with his aggressor of the years rushes back to the surface. The nostalgia trip comes to an abrupt end however as Hayden quickly staggers the Loaded Pistol with a flesh wrenching chop across his hairy chest. As the “WOO” chants resonate throughout the venue, Hardkore follows up with another chop, and then another, leaving Magnus wincing and yelping in pain as his body shrivels up from the agony. The most decorated superstar in GHW History seizes Magnus by the arm and lurches back, pulling him forward and whipping him across the ring. Introducing him into the fray, Jack Tracks steps forward and deftly wraps his feet around Gunner’s legs; having been coerced from his vertical base, the loud-mouthed superstar freefalls into the barbed wire surrounding the ring. Gunner frantically pulls himself from the unforgiving wire that sticks to his abdomen and lacerates his flesh. He rolls under the bottom rope to the floor clutching his sternum, having been welcomed back to Glory and Honor Wrestling in a fashion he never intended.

~Colin “The Fuzz” Jennings}- “Tracks and Hardkore didn’t exactly roll out the red carpet for Magnus tonight. That was one of the more unfriendly returns you’ll ever see.”

~"Big" Al Mulligan}- “Gunner better lose the ring rust fast, or he may leave tonight in an ambulance.”

As Tracks climbs back to his feet, Hayden scurries to the weapon filled trash can beside him, removing a lighttube, and brandishing it overhead to a standing ovation. He wastes no more time in posturing, charging at the racecar nut, violently swinging the fluorescent tube toward Jack’s cranium. The former Television Champion ducks and scrambles to the can, getting a tube of his own to level the playing field. As Hayden charges, he quickly doubles him over with a precise toe kick to the midsection. From there he lifts the tube overhead, before smashing it across Hardkore’s lower back. A dusty cloud of fluorescent vapor manifests as the smashing sound echoes throughout the arena. Hayden drops to a knee, his eyes cringed, and shoulders arched as miniature streaks of blood rise to the surface of his skin. Quick thinking and fueled by vengeance, the Triple Crown champion extends the lighttube and plunges it into Jack’s solar-plexus, immobilizing him as the pain surges through his breadbasket. Climbing back to his feet, Hayden acquaints Track’s face with his tube, blasting him in the forehead and sending dropping to the canvas. The lighttube shatters on impact, completely obliterated as it leaves a crimson line underneath the Indiana native’s hairline. Having momentarily gained control, Hayden lifts the trashcan and empties its contents onto the ring, leaving lighttubes, kendo sticks, and other smaller objects scattering. With a murderous, vindictive expression etched on his grizzled face, Hayden lifts the trashcan overhead, looking to further pummel his adversary. On all fours, Tracks reaches out and grabs another tube, before lifting to his knees and swinging the tube at Hayden’s midsection. The trashcan drops to the canvas with a thud as the three time Undisputed Champion embraces his midsection in pain. With haste, Tracks scrambles to his feet, quickly lifting Hayden onto his shoulders before jumping backward, slamming him on top of the can, sandwiching him between his full two hundred thirty pound frame and the aluminum can.

~"Big" Al Mulligan}- “Jack Tracks just took out the trash so to speak. Hayden passed the torch last year, its time for him to head back to the retirement home.”

~Colin “The Fuzz” Jennings}- “Al don’t be ridiculous. Hardkore looks better than ever…well of course not right now, considering the fact he was just Samoan Dropped onto a trashcan. But other than that, he’s been a hot ball of fire!”

Jack Tracks slides off of Hayden's battered, broken carcass, but before he can get to his feet, he's dragged out of the ring. The perpetrator is none other than the third competitor in the deathmatch, the Rock Messiah, who quickly greets Tracks with a thunderous right hand across his cheek. Jack retaliates with a knee strike to the gut, before grabbing Magnus around the head and slamming his face into the steel post. Gunner stumbles like a drunk toward the guardrail, his white forehead now a shade of red from a new bruise. In hot pursuit, Tracks makes his way to the rail, reaching into the crowd and grabbing a bag of hot popcorn from one of the patrons. He indulges himself, eating a handful to a chorus of cheers, before tossing the hot bag into Gunner's face, sending him in retreat as the butter burns his eyes and impairs his vision. Magnus blindly backpedals toward the timekeeper's table, with Tracks not far behind, in total control of the contest thus far. Out of desperation, the Loaded Pistol strikes with a thumb to the throat, stifling the high-octane superstar's momentum, and more importantly, buying himself enough time to take advantage. And he does, quickly encircling his arms around Jack's waist and reclining back, dragging him off his feet and sending him overhead. The timekeeper moves out of harms' way, running for the hills, leaving the former T.V. champion to crash and burn into the rack of steel chairs that do little to cushion his fall.

~Colin "The Fuzz" Jennings}- "Magnus Gunner and his technical skill just served him well in that exchange. Impressive Belly to Belly Suplex right there!"

~"Big" Al Mulligan: "Yeah, but that does little to help somebody in this sort of environment where lighttubes, chairs and tables are part of the furniture."


~Colin "The Fuzz" Jennings}- "Well this is the H-Games Al. Anything goes."

~"Big" Al Mulligan: "Just like in the bedroom with your mother, it's no holds barred!"

TBCB either Hayden or Tracks

[Hayden]

Magnus takes a little time to re-evaluate the situation. Putting priorities in order, he first tweaks his moustache to ensure it is sitting correctly atop his lip. After running his hands through his hair and posing for a shagadelic photo opportunity, he turns his sights back to the groaning figure of Jack Tracks. While Tracks fumbles through the small mountain of mangled chair to escape his confines, Magnus turns his attention to timekeeper duties. With the usual timekeeper abandoning his post, the Rock Messiah takes it upon himself to take ownership of the bell hammer. A devious smile spreads across his lips as he lifts it off the table and turns back to his opponent. Being the upstanding sportsman that he is, the prodigal protégé of Hayden HardKore helps Tracks out of his bind and hoists him to his feet. However, with a swift flick of the wrist, he sends the dazed high flier reeling, a metal hammer strike to his forehead giving him something to think about. Tracks is lucky enough to stagger backwards, away from the timekeeper’s corner and near the ring itself. However, Gunner is still hunting for him and a second, more violent bell-hammer swing sends Jack Tracks spinning lifelessly to the ground just outside the ring.

”Magnus Gunner really rung his bell with that shot!”

”How did I know that you were going to say that exact line? Of all of the puns you could have used there…”

”Pun or no pun, a shot like that could concuss somebody, knock them out cold. Hell, Magnus swung that hammer with enough venom to end Jack Tracks’s career.”

”He is unrelenting and has one hell of a mean streak in him. Can anybody stop Magnus from steamrolling over this match?”

Magnus tosses aside the bell hammer and sets his sights on new forms of punishment. Stepping up onto the ring apron, he undoes a length of thick steel chain from where it hangs above the ring ropes. Holding an end in both hands, Magnus lets the length of chain itself droop in front of his chest. When he nears the unmoving body of Jack Tracks, he steps in from behind, holding the chain out like a mob boss with a length of piano wire. The Rock Messiah proceeds to wrap the chain around Jack’s neck, tightening it until it cuts off his circulation. Then, using the chain around his neck like a lead, Magnus drags his opponent on all fours around the corner of the ring away from the commentary desk. It takes a good yank of the chain to raise Tracks to his feet, but the twinkle in Gunner’s eye shouts out that he will not be up for very long. He lines up the ring steps at the far corner of the ring. When he is near enough, Magnus yanks the chain downwards, forcing his opponent’s head down. He slides the head under his arm and hurls Jack Tracks into the air. Magnus proceeds to drop down, slamming Jack Tracks head first into the bottom ring step, much to the disturbed awe of the crowd. The sound of skull meeting steel echoes out around the arena as jack Tracks comes to rest lifelessly draped out across the ring steps. Magnus again takes the time to run a hand through his hair after his patented Magnus Driver had destroyed the highflying Tracks, but his cockiness is short lived.

A familiar mentor blindsides Gunner with a baseball slide from the ring, kicking him square in the chest and pushing him backwards against the crowd barricade. As several hands reach over to touch the shagadelic flesh of the downed Messiah, Hayden continues to slide out of the ring and towards Gunner. He grabs Magnus by the scruff of his neck, like a mother scalding a naughty child and marches him over toward the commentary desk. With a head slam into the desk, Hayden buys himself enough of a window to ceremonially strip the desk of its contents. Clipboards, pens, Al’s coffee cup and a monitor all are flung off the desk without regard. As Hayden approaches Fuzz’s side of the desk, he hears a moan emanate from the rock Messiah’s lips. Knowing that his small window is closing, he picks up the second monitor and slams it across the back of Gunner’s head. This serves to silence the loudmouth once more. With a trademark smile, Hayden looks over apologetically to the bemused commentary crew. Gunner is still standing, but his torso draped out across the desk. Hayden takes the time to plead his case to Al and Fuzz. Given the proximity to eac other, Hayden’s side of the conversation is picked up in Al and Fuzz’s headsets allowing for a rare two-way conversation mid-fight.

”Sorry about your desk, mates…”[/i]

Al, one who had never really rooted for team Hayden in the first place, is first to chime back.

”All of the weapons you have here, and you choose my desk. What am I going to drink for the rest of the show now, you Jackass.”

”My bad, at least you don’t have to listen to him prattling on any longer… Anyway, I have a match to win, so if you don’t mind.”

”Kick his ass Hayden. Give him one for ol’ Fuzz.”[/i]

Hayden sets his sights back on Magnus. Looking to send the Rock Messiah through the table itself, the lightweight Kiwi lifts him off the desk. However, Magnus is aware enough of his surroundings to kick out, booting the Kiwi away. The unexpected retaliation takes the smile off Hayden’s face. As Gunner drives Hayden back, the pair exchange unheard pleasantries. With a crunching impact, the small of Hayden’s back is driven into the side of the ring. Magnus backs up for a second shoulder charge but Hayden escapes the charging bull by grabbing a hold of the barbed ring rope and hurling himself skywards. He flips up over the ropes and into the ring to safety. With a cut to the hand, he escapes a broken back. It is enough to put the smile back in its place. Gunner looks up at the crafty veteran. He shakes his head and follows Hayden in. The time it takes gives the Kiwi a chance to arm himself, knowing that Gunner will not be coming lightly. He picks up a trashcan lid with his right hand and a light tube with the left. The right handed Gunner arms himself similarly, a trashcan lid with in his left and a light tube in his right. Like medieval knights, the pair face off, light tube swords at the ready. Gunner is first to swing, a shot dodged by the Kiwi. When Hayden retaliates, the strike is blocked by the shield, causing the light tube to shatter into pieces. The pair pace around each other for long enough for the Kiwi to acquire a second sword. This time it is Hayden to charge first. Again, Gunner bocks his strike with his trash-can shield, causing the light to shatter into millions of shards. Leaving himself open slightly, Hayden is quick to turn to defend himself but it is too late. The Rock Messiah swings the light tube and catches the Kiwi across the forehead, opening up a large gash along Hayden’s forehead. The cut instantly springs forth blood and it is not long before Hayden is spitting it out of his mouth.

With no light tubes left to arm himself with Hayden charges forward. Through blood stained vision he readies himself, narrowing his sights on his former protégé. Gunner smiles as the veteran charges towards him. As Hayden winds up for his trademark Power of the SouthPaw, Gunner holds the trashcan lid up in front of his face. He didn’t expect Hayden’s punch to pack the power that it did. Hayden’s left fist connects with the steel can with a clang of bone meeting steel. A yelp of pain from the Kiwi is quickly followed by one from Magnus, as the trashcan lid is forced into his face. The result is the combined force of Hayden’s Haymaker with the added sting of a steel lid to the skull and drops Gunner to his back. He falls, body limp, into a crumpled and unconscious heap.

”Hayden might have hurt his hand from that Power of the Southpaw, but it appears he got the upper hand.”

”I’ll give him this. For a little guy, he packs a deceptively strong punch. The power to push through Gunner’s defenses and Knock him out with a single shot, priceless.”

”I’ll watch that replay a dozen times, I’m sure… And it’ll be just as classic each time.”

Hayden is busy shaking off the pain in his hand when Jack Tracks surfaces once more. He does not see the high flier close in behind him. The crowd rise as one as Jack Tracks lines the Kiwi up with a steel chair. He raises it above his head and slams it down on the unsuspecting body of the Kiwi, sending him sprawling forward into the corner turnbuckle. It appears that the match is not over just yet…

TBC

OOC: Sorry, a bit longer than I thought it would be. I wanted to do all of the spots here so couldn't cut it down too much.

[Jack Tracks]

Steel hitting flesh is never a very pretty sound. Not, of course, unless you'-re the one doing the hitting! And right about now, things sound really pretty for Jack Tracks. The normally-noble piece of furniture continues to be used for some decidedly nefarious purposes, as it'-s brought down again and again on the former Champion of Everything, the sick echo of his back getting blown up echoing through the House of Horrors. At first, the Kiwi'-s body jumps at each hit, but after awhile, it seems to just give up and take it without any real protest, lying limp in the middle of the ring. With the chair visibly dented from the assault, Tracks decides to give it a break, and tosses the implement aside. His breathing's a bit heavy from it all, but it just gives him an excuse to sit back and admire his handiwork for a second.

"A vicious assault from Tracks with that chair! While he's always dangerous, we don't see him just go nuts like that very often."

"I bet it's instinct. He knows he's not going to get another chance to take out a guy of Hayden Hardcore's reputation like this for a real long time, and you have to make your opportunities count."

The crowd seems rather mixed at the turn of events, Tracks' supporters getting hyped up over their man taking the advantage, while the people wh6o still find themselves firmly in Hayden Hardcore's camp boo at seeing their hero getting beat down like that. But the King of the Road pays it no mind. Instead, he turns to the hardcore fruit hanging above from the vines of barbed wire. Like the pickiest chef in his personal tomato grove, Tracks eyes each of the weapons, touching their handles to get an idea of their weight. It seems like a particularly well'-made Kendo Stick earns his Seal of Approval, and he tugs at the handle, yanking the cane from its orchard of hate. The former TV champ gives the cane a few warm'-up swings, and seems pretty happy with the result. Until he turns around. With Tracks taking so long to continue his attack, Magnus had slid back into the ring, and jumped right for the Indianan. In his hands, he holds what appears to be a cast-iron skillet...perhaps the same one that Tracks himself had used back in the Bring Your Own Weapons match? It would certainly bring a little bit of irony to the attack. As the cookware comes down, Tracks' reflexes manage to save him, at least a little, as he turns his body in order to feed the shoulder, and protect his skull. A solid hit from that thing would cause even worse brain damage than the hammer, if it hit dead-on! It still hurts like a motherfucker, and the King of the Road'-s shoulder looks like it could damn'-near collapse from too many more of those.

"Looks like Gunner's about to cook up a nice heapin' helpin- of PAIN in there!"

"...Did you seriously just make that joke?"

"I did! And you'll never be able to erase it! I've got the editing crew in my bridge club. They'll leave in all the terrible jokes I want them to!"

"Why do you have a brid- Fuck it! Let's just watch the rest of this horror unfold!"

Wanting to make these hits really count, the Groovalicious One quickly hops over to the other side of the ring, near the fallen body of Hayden Hardcore. Measuring his strike, Gunner waits for Tracks to turn around after smarting from that first hit. When his target is in position, Magnus dashes forward, pan raised up high! But just a nasty shoulder wound isn't going to slow Tracks' reactions, and instead of hitting some skull, Gunner ends up getting back'-body'-dropped high into the air. But this time, because of the House of Horrors set up, there wasn't only empty sky. Instead of flying right over, Gunner's body snags against the barbed wire "halo" that surrounds the ring, from which all the weapons were hanging. Having already a good range of weapons danling from it, and a sudden weight of over 200 pounds bearing down against it,the entire structure is carried with him, a ring-sized circle of jagged metal hurling outside of the ring, with a man-shaped weight bringing it down. And physics only make it worse, at least for Jack Tracks. Realizing what was about to happen just a bit too late, Tracks turns around to find that massive lasso of violence closing around him, as the barbed wire from the other side of the ring hurls towards him, catching around the tall Indianans' neck! The weight on the other side of the heap immediately pulls Tracks back, causing him to not only be strangled by the wire, put pressed against the also barbed-wire ropes, as well! Tracks' body tries to fight, as he's now both being strangled by wire, and pulled hard against a whole wall of the stuff! The crowd "OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHH"s in shock at the sight, but at least one person seems to enjoy it.

It was actually to Hayden's good fortune that he was prone on the mat that whole time, as the wire noose went clear over him. The respite from Tracks' assault gave Hayden time enough to stand back up, and a huge grin on the Kiwi's face shows he likes what he sees. But he's not going to leave well enough alone here. Embracing this chance to put at least one of his rivals away for good, the legendary fighter dashes forward, keeping his head down, and launches himself like a missile, spearing right into the trapped Tracks! The pressure of the two men at that kind of velocity proved to be too much for the barbed wire, and both of them go crashing through the "ropes", landing as a big ball of metal and flesh, right on top of poor Gunner below! The bloodthirsty crowd rises to its feet, everyone clamoring for a look at the trainwreck down below!

"HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!"

"Oh my fucking God! Between the three of them, the entire House of Horrors itself has been destroyed!"

"Quick, get your ass down there, ref! Someone's got to be pinning someone else down in all that!"

"If you're right, then that's got to be it, because I doubt anyone's going to be kicking out from under all that..."



(OOC: Thanks for the extension. If you see any weird, out of place numbers or symbols, my keyboard's been fucking up, although I deleted the extras the best I could. Also, just so people know: Jack Tracks isn't a flyer. Seems to be a common misconception.)