Matt Violence vs Carson Schraeder

[Matt F'N Violence]

*SCREAM*

The crowd start buzzing in anticipation, the high pitched scream could only mean one thing: the return of Mr. FuckHisDayUp. As the rest of A7X's sound blares throughout the PA system, Matt Violence himself explodes from backstage. He jumps out from behind the curtain, leading on his right foot then freezes at the top of the ramp. His gazes drags from the far west side of the arena to the far east side of the arena as he nods his head approvingly at all the boisterous fans excited for his return.

"The following match your Pre-Main Event of the evening and is scheduled for one fall! Making his way to the ring first, ladies and gentlemen from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania Matt Violence!"

He begins to walk down the narrow ramp, leaning more to the left allowing the fans to grab and pat him on the back. He smiles the whole way to the ring and jump right up on the apron with ease. He jumps over the top rope and waits for his opponent.

((OOC: God, I don't miss entrances.))

[Carson Schraeder]

The crowd are buzzing, as Violence stands in the ring. He turns his gaze towards the stage, curtain, and waits. He doesn't have to wait long, until a drumbeat bursts through the speakers, the bass reverberating off of the walls, until a guitar joins in, followed shortly after by Chad Kroeger's vocals.

Who's coming with me, to kick a hole in the sky?I love the whiskey, let's drink that shit til its dry. So grab a Jim Beam, JD, whatever you need.
Have a shot from the bottle, doesn't matter to me.
'Nother round, fill 'er up , hammer down, grab a cup, bottoms up!


All of a sudden, the muscular frame of the 6'6" Texan, Carson Schraeder strides out from the back, wearing his black jeans, white wrestling boots and a black cowboy hat. Clutched in his hand is a can of beer. Schraeder stops on the stage, and cracks open the beer, and proceeds to down it, crushing it in his hand and throwing can into the crowd. The Austin native proceeds down the ramp, eyes locked on the ring, on Matt Violence.

"And his opponent, from Austin, Texas, standing at six foot six, weighing in at two hundred and seventy two pounds, Carson Scraeder."

This is what it's all about, no one can slow us down.
We ain't gonna stop until the clock runs out.
Bottoms up!
Hell can't handle all of us, so get your bottles up.
Drinkin' every drop until it all runs out.
'Nother round, fill 'er up, hammer down, grab a cup, bottoms up!

Ohh, bottoms up...

Schraeder strides down the ramp, never once taking his gaze off of the opponent, and he finally reaches the entranceway. He pauses for a moment, and scans the crowd, who are getting pumped. He smiles wryly, and walks to the apron, reaches up and grabs the top rope, and pulls himself up onto the skirting. He locks his eyes on the Philly resident, and steps coolly over the top rope, and into the ring.

So grab your best friends and make your way to the bar.
But keep your distance, we're gonna light it on fire.
We're drinking black tooth, 80 proof, straight gasoline.
Slam as much as you can take and hand the bottle to me.
'Nother round, fill 'er up, hammer down, grab a cup, bottoms up!

This is what it's all about, no one can slow us down.
We ain't gonna stop until the clock runs out.
Bottoms up!
Hell can't handle all of us, so get your bottles up.
Drinkin' every drop until it all runs out.
'Nother round, fill 'er up, hammer down, grab a cup, bottoms up!

Ohh, bottoms up...

Schraeder backs into the corner and turns around, eyeing off his opponent, and the referee checks for foreign objects, before he signals to the timekeeper to ring the bell, to which he obliges.

*DING DING*

[Matt F'N Violence]

Matt and Carson remain motionless in their respective corner, their eyes locked narrowly on one another. Matt's eyebrows come together in a scowl as he begins to formulate a plan inside his head on how he will slay the giant. The wood begins to burn even more as now Carson starts to make his way towards Violence with slow, powerful steps rattling the four corners of the ring every time he plants his boot into the canvas. Matt's fearless attitude shines though and he seems to just say fuck it and charges at his mammoth of an opponent. The fans let out a loud pop at MV's display of valor. Mr. FuckHisDayUp swings a wild elbow into the Texan's rib area, but it does very little damage. Matt takes a step back then decides to throw another but is dropped by the edge of Carson's hand.

"Holy shit, that almost broke MV's skull in half!"
"Almost, it looks like it really did!"

Carson lets no second go to waste and continues with his assault, drilling the returning Ultraviolent Superstar with three consecutive stomps, all delivered to the middle most part of his spine. With each shell-shocking blow Matt's body twitches much like someone's would in an electric chair. The oversized Texan hunkers over and pulls Matt up by his head, dazed and on noodle legs, Matt is Irish Whipped into the far corner. As he lays there propped up only by the support of the adjacent ropes, he is crushed by the weight of Carson who comes charging at him like a raging bull. The big man backs up and Matt falls out of the corner right on his face. Things are not looking good for the returning Violence and look even worst as Carson looks to make his way to the top rope.

OOC: Sorry it's short. I have my first MMA fight Saturday and I've been killing myself making weight. I probably picked a bad week to sign back up.

[Carson Schraeder]

The Texan native hesitates as he eyes the corner cautiously, before turning his gaze to his opponent, who is lying motionless on the canvas. Schraeder lets out a reassuring breath, as if his opponent's prone carcass was all the convincing he needs, and steps over the top rope onto the apron, and making his way to the turnbuckle, and hesitantly tests the bottom one, by standing on it. It holds his weight, which again, makes Carson sigh with relief, and he begins to, rather clumsily, ascend the turnbuckle. It takes him several moments, before he is perched on the top rope, rather wobbly, and he lifts his gaze from his feet to the ring, just in time to see the Ultraviolent Superstar charging at him. Carson's eyes widen in horror as Mr. FuckHisDayUp bends his knees and jumps, launching himself in the air, and driving his forearm into the cranium of his larger opponent, who wobbles violently on the top rope. The Philadelphia native grabs the top ropes, and pulls himself onto the middle turnbuckle, and balls his right fist, and begins driving it into the facial features of the Texan, as the crowd cheers. Violence continues to rain down right hands, until Schraeder places both hands square on the UltraViolent Superstar's chest, and shoves him, sending him crashing to the mat. The big man shakes his head, to negate the effects of the assault, and stares down at his opponent, before getting to his feet, so he is standing on the top rope. He wobbles precariously, before smiling, and he launches himself into the air, and extends his legs, so he is in a sitting position, and he begins to arc downwards, right towards Matt Violence. The Philly Native's eyes fly open, and he sees the huge frame of Carson Schraeder descending down upon him, and he rolls swiftly out of the way, sending Schraeder's legs and ass crashing into the canvas with an almighty thud, and the Texan lets out a howl of pain, as he sits there, clutching his behind. Mr. FuckHisDayUp smiles, and hauls himself to his feet, and smiles at his prone opponent, before charging at the ropes, the momentum acting as a slingshot, and sending him hurtling towards Schraeder. At the last moment, Violence launches himself up, and extends his feet, driving the soles of both feet into the face of the Texan, with a sickening crack. Schraeder's head snaps back from the force, and his eyes roll back into his head, as he lays motionless on the canvas.

What a beautiful dropkick from Matt Violence there, folks! He almost kicked Carson Schraeders head clean off of his shoulders!

And his facial features might have been rearranged to boot!

That's a shame, too, Al. He was a handsome guy before that dropkick.

Violence scrambles on to the crumpled form of his opponent, and hooks his leg in the first pin attempt of the match. The referee drops down onto his stomach, and slaps the mat hard. ONE! He drives his palm down into the mat for a second time. TWO! At the count of two, Schraeder places his hands on Violence's chest and, with tremendous power, pushes the Philly native into the air, to break the pin attempt. Mr. FuckHisDayUp crashes chest first into the mat a couple of feet away from Schraeder, who begins to groggily get to his feet. After several moments, Schraeder is up to a vertical base, and he shakes his head, trying to shrug off the effects of the Dropkick. The Pennsylvanian scrambles to his feet, and looks at his opponent, who is still slightly dazed and charges, driving his forearm into the cranium of Schraeder again, who attempts to cover himself. The forearm lands on the forehead of Schraeder again, and again, as Schraeder covers himself, before finally swatting Violence away with a thrust of his arm. The Philly native falls backwards, but bounces straight back to his feet, and rushes again, and continues his assault of the head of his much larger opponent. Again, Schraeder covers up, before thrusting his arm again, and brushing the Ultraviolent Superstar off of him, and sending him tumbling to the mat. Like last time, Matt just rolls back to his feet and runs back to his opponent and again, rains down forearms. Schraeder, angered by now, uses both hands to brush Violence off of him, and sends him tumbling to the mat for a third time, and for a third time, Violence gets up as if made of rubber, and charges. Schraeder smiles, and charges himself, and lifts his leg up, and drives his size 16 boot into the face of his opponent with a sickening crack heard around the arena. The Pennsylvanian's head snaps back from the whiplash, and he crumples to the mat, seemingly unconscious.

Well, it seems it is Matt Violence's turn to have his facial features rearranged, with a huge big boot!

So it would seem, although, I think Matt Violence's tenacity got the best of him and he became a bit predictable.

You think? Third time not so lucky, perhaps?

The Texan smiles wickedly, and stares down at his crumpled opponent, before reaching his hands down, and grabbing a fistful of hair, and hauls the near unconscious Matt Violence to his feet. Schraeder holds his opponent up, and stares at him for a moment, before grinning, and grabs Mr. FuckHisDayUp's head, and places it between his legs, face pointed downwards. Schraeder stares out at the crowd, before pinning Violence's arms behind his back, in a double underhook, before launching into the air, and pulling the Pennsylvanian towards him by the arms, and drives his head, point first into the canvas, vertically, sending a sickening thud around the arena. Carson untangles his arms, and rolls his limp opponent onto his back, and covers him. The referee drops down to his stomach and starts the count.

ONE!
TWO!
THREE!

DING DING DING!

Carson's music blasts from the speakers, as he hauls himself to his feet, and the referee raises his arms.

Ladies and Gentleman, your winner of this match, Carson Schraeder!

Schraeder smiles, and taunts the fans, before leaving the ring, and heading up the ramp.

What an impressive debut for Carson Schraeder here tonight folks!

You're right there. He absolutely dominated Matt Violence! I can't wait to see him in action again next week!