Singles: Gunner vs. Reaper

[Vladimir Strife]

((I'll just make this an action post being the entrance time has passed))

As the bell rings, the men step forward toward the center of the ring. Magnus suddenly bursts into laughter, confusing his opponent as he holds up a finger to signal for a moment to resolve this issue. The uproar only gets worse, the nearly 1 foot and 100 lb advantage tickling the former Imperial Champion. He backs himself against the ropes, holding one for stability as his showing persists. The Japan native is not as amused however and suddenly charges, racing like lightning across the distance between them. The Rock Messiah is not as defenseless as his chuckles would have it seem, however, stepping away from the corner and dodging the oncoming Reaper. Leaping up, the cruiserweight slaps the soles of his boots against the middle rope and pushes back off of them, twisting himself around driving his heels into the rear of his nemesis's cranium, sending him down to one knee as he grasps at the pain. The audience bursts into cheers, not sure what to make of the pint sized aerialist, but dazzled by the move.

JP: What a dropkick! Crystov just nearly took off Gunner's head with that!
Ray: It was impressive, but I don't want him to hurt Magnus.. he reminds me of the men in my vintage movies..
JP: Awww, come on! Was that REALLY necessary?
Ray: ...Maybe..

As the men make their way back up to their feet, a fire burns in the Michiganite's eye, fueled by the feeling of humiliation and a newly found understanding that the star opposite of him was not to be taken so lightly. They near one another again, Crystov striking him across the thigh with a stiff kick. The force creates a cramp in the muscle, distracting Magnus for the next blow to hit it's mark across his stomach, causing him to lurch forward and nearly double over. The end of the trifecta of boots crashes against his right temple, the blast ringing in his ears long after impact. The Loaded Pistol is annoyed by the onslaught and steps in close, wrapping his arms around the torso of the lightweight, grabbing him tightly. He shoots back, hurling Vlad's messenger overhead with as much strength as he can muster. The effort is perhaps too much, though, allowing the wiry devil to exert himself into the flip and catch himself with the flats of his feet against the canvas and coming out of the belly to belly unscathed.

Unaware of his failure, Gunner clamors back to his feet, shocked to see the Collector of Lost Souls breezing past him as he does. The Anarchistic Acrobat leaps upon the center cable again and throws himself back at the egotistical American, arm poised and ready to take him by the head and show him to the mat. What he finds, instead, is a leg shooting up into his path, the heel at the end of it catching him against the jaw with a mighty slap that floors the Crazed Cruiserweight. The massive superkick makes Magnus believe the match might be done for already and he goes for a pinfall, scooping up the leg of Crystov as the referee slips into place.

JP: OUCH! Razetti just bit the business end of that super kick!
Ray: Screw that- what he just bit was the dust! Kill him, Magnus!

"1!"

"2!"

The Reaper is just barely able to regain his bearings long enough to roll his shoulder off of the mat and end the count, surprising the Commander of Cool yet again with his resilience. The fingers laced through his hair guides him back to his feet, an awaiting Gunner wasting no time in tucking Crystov's skull into the pit of his arm. He drapes the semi-conscious man's arm over his neck before grabbing him by the tights and quite easily raising him up into the air. Holding him there, the Rock Messiah walks around the ring delaying the inevitable as he displays his superior strength. Returning to the middle of the squared circle, he falls back, both men's backs crashing against the mat. The Devil's Delivery Boy snaps up to a seated position, arching his back and grimacing. He brings his arm back, resting the outer part of his forearm against his lumbar to try to find some solace to the agony that afflicted him. It had been a long time since he'd taken such a spill, but he couldn't quite remember it being so painful. While he tries to sooth his spine, he is unaware of the menace behind him which bends down and vines it's arms under his own, hands meeting along Razetti's solar plexus and locking together. Before he has time to react, he is ripped off of the ground and over the Loaded Pistol again, who holds tightly to prevent the welterweight from repeating his escape of fate. Unable to get away, the shorter man gets the short end of the stick, the back of his head and neck being driven down with a bang that rings out to the rafters. His momentum doesn't stop there, however, seeing him roll over the apron and dropping down to the outside of the ring.

Ray: WOOHOO!!
JP: Geez.. Magnus is really manhandling The Reaper here tonight. He just slung him like a ragdoll..

With a cocky smile, the 240 pounder watches his lighter foe looks on as his victim stumbles back up to a vertical base and tries to shake off the wear of the combination of suplexes. The referee begins a different count as he does so, warning the Asian that he'd better return to the ring soon.

"1"

"2"

"3"

"4"

The Collector darts back without warning, jumping up and leading himself through the bottom 2 ropes. He ducks down quickly, rolling against the canvas and quickly coming up to a standing. Magnus has had enough of the showboating though and runs in behind him, swinging a heavy arm right at Crystov's neck. The foreigner ducks the attempt, leading his opponent to direct his inertia to the ropes, bouncing off and coming in low. Unable to go under this one, he opts to go over, popping up and spreading his legs out to clear his mustachioed adversary's oncoming force. As he makes the repeat trip, Gunner almost seems to combine his previous effort, hunkering down with a shoulder prepped to meet spine. With a quick peek backwards, the elusive enigma springs up and into a backflip, avoiding collision yet again in an impressive display. Not satisfied to simply play matador, Razetti takes off into a sprint, mimicking the Loaded Pistol as he slings his body against the nylon cable and follows after the man who just done the same. Not seeing his opponent after this rebound, the larger star is confused and as he hits the opposing side, he stretches his arms out, latching on and stopping himself to figure out what has happened. The Reaper comes in besides him, taking to the air headfirst, catching himself with a hand upon the middle and top ropes. He shoots his legs up, pivoting about his grasp as he brings them over the uppermost barrier and slams them across the base of his rival's skull. The Disco era Dreamboat collapses, his legs abruptly folding under him before he comes face to fabric with the squared circle.

JP: Sickle Kick! Absolutely stunning. For all of the talk this man does, who would have ever imagined he could back it up so well?

TBCB Magnus

[Magnus Gunner]

Gunner lies motionless in the ring, his brains and thoughts scattered across the canvas as he lies in a sweaty heap. Meanwhile, the miniature masochist, Razetti scrambles back to his feet, his chest panting following his recent adrenaline rush. He takes a deep breath to both calm himself and recuperate, before turning toward the corner. From here the proverbial lightbulb flickers in his head, prompting him to step through the middle and top rope and onto the apron. With the audience glued to his every movements, the daredevil from Japan slowly begins ascending the top rope. As he nears the top, the recovered Rock Messiah regains a state of full verticality, his hands wiping away the sweat plastered on his face, allowing him to clear his vision. His first look at the brave new world is the Reaper perched at the top turnbuckle, readying himself for a death defying leap. Looking to foil Crystov's plans, Magnus charges at the corner, quickly leaping onto the second rope in pursuit of his foe. Fueled by desperation, the Japanese Russian begins unloading on Gunner's already dented skull, repeatedly smashing his forearm into the aforementioned part of the sleazebag Rocker's anatomy. Following three pummeling shots, Magnus falls from the sky, crashing supinely to the canvas, leaving Razetti to ponder his next move. In a state of delirium, Magnus climbs to one knee, his head titled crookedly, eyes weakened and low looking like a prize fighter ready to be knocked out. As the bewildered rocker staggers to his feet, The Reaper leaps off the top, quickly turning his body sideways whilst lifting his right leg and striking the mustached superstar in the temple. The crowd collectively jumps to its feet, the sound of boot impinging on cranium reverberating throughout the gymnasium as the deliver of the attack lies on his back, while the recipient rests inert on his knees with his face buried in the canvas.

"GUNNER JUST GOT HIS FUCKING HEAD KICKED IN!"
"Flying Enzuigiri from the Reaper. And he just won the crowd over with that one Ray! What a move!"

Magnus rolls onto his back, his body twitching violently as the aftershocks of the maneuver travels throughout his body. With a sense of urgnecy, Razetti crawls over to Gunner's carcass, quickly executing a lateral press, spurring the referee to move into position and make the count.

"ONE"
"TWO"

Gunner throws a shoulder up, breaking the count, much to the dismay and anger of the crowd. Obviously punch-drunk, Mangus plants his fists into the canvas and pushes himself up onto both knees while Razetti climbs back to his feet. Continuing to press the issue, the Reaper sidesteps before unleashing a vile Roundhouse Kick to the Loaded Pistol's hairy chest. The Michigander flinches and winces, the force behind the kick almost knocking him on his back. Seeing as his foe remains upright, the Reaper punishes him for his defiance, lacing his chest with a second barbaric kick, with the successor thrown with more force and vigor than the one that preceded it. Magnus coughs in pain, almost like a new smoker who's lungs are new to the cigarette toxins and therefore his body attempts to flush out the disease. Despite the agony in his abdominal region the Rock Messiah remains on his knees, both perturbing and exasperating the pocket sized pugilist. Going for the hatrick, the Cruiserweight swings his once again in a semi-circular motion, this time aimed at the cranium of his adversary. Avoiding the proverbial guillotine, Magnus ducks, throwing Razetti momentarily off-balance, effectively creating a window of opportunity to take back control of the contest. In one fluid motion, Gunner springs to his feet and rotates three hundred and sixty degrees, all the while simultaneously swinging and bending his near arm. The Rock Messiah's elbow crashes into the side of Crystov's head, just as the soul collector had gotten his equilibrium back in tact and turned around. The debilitating elbow strike turns Razetti around, leaving him vulnerable and staggering in place like a drunk. Gunner quickly wraps his arms around the Russian's waist and clasps his hands together before falling backward, dragging Razetti along for the ride. He releases him halfway into the throw, tossing him onto his head, planting him into the canvas with a picture perfect German Suplex. The momentum behind the throw sends the aerialist rolling onto one knee, looking like a strong wind could knock him over. Rushing to his feet, Magnus approaches his groggy opponent, quickly placing Razetti's head in his armpit and executing a double underhook. Without a moment's hesitation he hoists the lighter superstar into the air before releasing him. As the Japanese star descends through the tense atmosphere, Magnus drops to one knee, bending the back of his antagonist across his raised knee doing his best snapping pencil impression. A unanimous gasp is heard in the arena, as the Reaper convulses on his back, tormented by an excruciating pain which shockwaves throughout his spinal region.

"Double Underhook Backbreaker. I think I heard Razetti's back crack! That caps off an impressive flurry from the Rock Messiah."
"Razetti had his fifteen seconds of fame. Its over now Jimmy. He just bent him like a goddamn pretzel!"

The callous rocker climbs back to his feet, a smug grin stretching from ear to ear as he rises back to his feet. His stands in the middle of the squared circle, his eyes surveying the arena, both hands raised pridefully in the air holding the "Rock N Roll" sign, sending the audience into a hate filled frenzy. The detestation of the crowd is voiced in vociferous boos, each one of them falling on deaf ears as the Loaded Pistol continues to relish over his recent accomplishment. And that accomplishment, seemingly rendering his opponent paraplegic. The aforenamed Razetti crawls into the corner, the expression on his sweat filled face conveyed the pain and agony he's afflicted with. He pulls himself up in the corner, struggling to get to his feet, his strained back a wrong move from completely giving out on him. Meanwhile, Gunner commences to stroke his Magnum PI mustache, invoking jeers from the jam packed gym inhabitants, watching on intently as a familiar scene begins to unfold. That scene is a battered opponent situated in the corner, and The Rock Messiah standing in the middle of the ring. Having received Razetti's ticket, Hayden Hardkore's former understudy settles out to give him his official admittance to EVPW's most hated ride. The crowd stands on their feet, knowing exactly what is next, continuing to boo as the loquacious Michigan native opens his mouth.

"WHO WANTS TO RIDE THE YELLOW SUBMARINE?!!!"

Gunner then charges into the corner, a few seconds away from taking the Reaper on the ride of his life. Obviously not a fan of such thrill rides, Razetti deftly maneuvers out of the corner before sidestepping and wrapping his feet around the legs of his incoming opponent. Magnus is coerced forward, his seventies kindred mustached face being planted into the turnbuckle padding. Seeing stars, Gunner lurches back on his feet, the Drop Toe Hold befuddling him long enough for the mini wrestler to take advantage. Crystov springs to his feet and leaps across the second rope before jumping back. In midflight he rotates backward, gracefully executing a backflip which captivates the audience. The incredible exhibition of body control and athleticism ends with the Collector of Souls maliciously driving his elbow into his opponent's mug. The mesmerizing maneuver sends Magnus to the canvas, while the Reaper lands on his back, eyes staring up at the ceiling lights, totally drained of energy from the recent sequence of events.

"Razetti just shut down the Yellow Submarine! Can he do that?"
"He just did do that Ray. That Springboard Elbow has Magnus swallowing his pride.
"And that's something I never imagined I'd watch Gunner swallow..."

TBCB THE REAPAH

[Vladimir Strife]

With both men down and not responding, the youngest referee in the company initiates a count of ten for them to respond by.

"1"

"2"

"3"

As the Loaded Pistol begins to stir, his foreign foe pulls his legs up, bringing his knees into his own line of sight before bridging his arms back and laying his palms down flat for stability. He kicks up forcefully, pushing himself off of the mat as he does and springing up to a vertical base to a fresh round of applause. He waits impatiently as Magnus grabs at the ropes, clamoring sluggishly back into contention. Razetti lets him turn around before taking him by the wrist and yanking back, whipping him towards the far side. Not so easily coaxed, the nearly whole foot taller American spins himself around as he pulls back, reversing their roles in the Irish whip. Thinking fast, Crystov steps up onto the second rope, flinging himself back around and wrapping his legs around the head of the off guard opposition. He drops down, looking to hit the Pale Horse and bring the bout to a close. Gunner resists him, latching onto the cruiserweight's forearms before lifting him once more. With a slight turn and a large step forward, he chucks him into the corner gracelessly. The Reaper falls into a heap, sparse for motion.

JP: Powerbomb into the corner! Razetti is definitely feeling that one..
Ray: What can you say? A strong man beats a fast one everytime.

The Detroit native bends over, gathering the Collector by the ankle before dragging him into the center of the squared circle. Once satisfied with the position of the cruiserweight, he turns away from him, facing out towards the Concord crowd as he approaches the edge of the ring. He takes a moment to boast, flexing his bicep and bringing it to his lips for a gentle peck. Jumping up, he pounces onto the second rope, baring down his full weight onto it before pushing off. Magnus leans back sharply, going heels over head and landing his torso across the length of the Reaper, a mighty clap of their flesh expressing the inflicted agony better than even the twisted face of the receiver. He doesn't bother to go for the pinfall, having something far more sinister in mind as he takes the Shrimpy Sadist by the hair and leads him back to his feet. With his opponent still groggy, the Rock Messiah pulls his arm and brings it across his shoulders, wrapping his own appendage around Razetti's neck as he does. Reaching forward with his other hand, he takes Satan's Little Helper by the back of the knee as his fans begin to ready themselves to cheer his victory.

Ray: Time for a drive! Audi 5000 coming up!
JP: If he hits this one, I don't see much hope for the Reaper.. This move is just absolutely devastating!

Before Magnus can raise him into the air, Crystov protests with a ball of knuckles to the ribs. A repeat performance rattles the rocker, a third one proving the charm as he relents the leg. He easily slips his head out of the hold, escaping danger and throwing a swift boot into the side of his adversary for good measure. As the former Imperial Champion doubles over from the strike, the Asian Sensation takes his spot in the corner across from him, lining him up before sprinting toward. He bounds off of the canvas, slapping a sole down across the back of the middleweight and using him as a stepping stone to the top turnbuckle. Turning around, he faces the oncoming charge of an insulted and infuriated Gunner. The Reaper expertly abandons the post, flipping himself over him out of harm's way, his feet plopping down onto the mat behind the aggressor. When the Mustachioed Menace pivots to meet him, he tilts his body mass on one leg, shooting the other up and planting his heel across the chin of dazed Disco Dreamboat. The Loaded Pistol extends his arms as he crashes back into the turnbuckle padding, slouching but managing not to slink down to the canvas.

JP: TORO! TORO! Magnus might need a moment to fetch his teeth!
Ray: Hey, no fair! You shut your mouth!

Acting quickly, Razetti makes his way across the ring and slips out onto the apron next to an adjacent turnpost. He climbs up to the top of it, stopping for a moment to balance himself and take a deep breath. In an almost unbelievable display of agility, he runs across the rope, making a beeline for the stunned Gunner. Not as deep into dreamland as his enemy had expected, the Rock Messiah rushes out of the corner and clear of the Reaper's path. The Collector of Lost Souls quickly rectifies his plans, hurling himself forward and bottom first toward the uppermost rope. He springs off of it, rotating his body backwards and managing to get his feet back under him in time to catch himself. Quite satisfied with his showing, Crystov directs his attention back to Magnus and is rewarded with the wing of a boot to the solar plexus. He lurches forward and the man often referred to as the best thing to come out of LDWA clutches his cranium in a front facelock, then seizes the rear upper lip of the Pint-Sized Pugilist's tights. The Loaded Pistol yanks him up and drives them both down to the canvas, spiking the shrimp face first as the crowd roars again in approval.

Ray: YES!! THE MAGNUS DRIVER!!!

(Getting a bit tired to go on, I mustache Gunner to continue.)

[Magnus Gunner]

The crowd continues to chirp as the two combatants lie motionless, until the deliver of the Impaler DDT begins to stir. Magnus slowly shakes the cobwebs, his surroundings becoming clear as the blurry haze vanishes. His wary American brings himself around to collapse across the sprawling Reaper's heaving chest, causing the referee to move in and begin the count.

"ONE"
"TWO"

"It's not over yet Ray! The fat lady isn't singing."
"Yeah but she's clearing her throat. The end is near!"

With the third count seeming imminent, the Russian convulses his body and rolls a shoulder over to break up the count. The crowd roars in approval, the tenacity of the pocket sized acrobat having won them over. Gunner's face reddens with rage, seething and boiling like a kettle on the stove, as he immediately gets up and turns to the referee. The Rock Messiah admonishes the young official, and despite a handful of obscenities being voiced and thrown at him holds his grown and brandishes two fingers, effectively stating his case. Meanwhile the dazed Cruiserweight regains his bearings, rolling over to a prone position before lifting himself up on all fours. He wills himself up on one knee, shocking the Rock Messiah who turns to witness the phenomenon. With his lips curled in a scowl, the Loaded Pistol assaults his foe's face with an open palm slam, a blatant show of disrespect which doesn't go over well with the crowd. Razetti's foundation trembles but remains on his knee defiantly, giving the callous musician the proverbial middle finger despite ever fiber in his being screaming at him to throw in the towel. Satisfied with having added insult to injury, Magnus grapples the head of his adversary and goes to lift him up. As he nears a vertical base, one of the many Japanese stars on the roster reaches up and grabs Gunner with both hands. Crystov captures him by the head before dropping to his knees; the sleazy superstar's chin collides with the Reaper's head, his jaw realigned with the old fashioned Jawbreaker, a counter in the repertoire of every superstar and a trick that pulls Razetti out of the fire. The only bright spot from LDWA staggers back before dropping to a knee, his bells ringing loudly as his head hangs awkwardly to the side. The Reaper falls back into the ropes, the cables quickly throwing him back forward, allowing him to exploit the momentum and use it to discombobulate his opponent. He steps onto Gunner's raised knee, before swinging right leg and bending it, aiming it at the Michigander's battered brain. A loud, resounding, audible crack briefly precedes the sound of the supercilious "Sleazy One" dropping to the canvas. It is followed by the cheers of the ignited patrons, moved by the fight and determination of the miniature mauler who lies on his side after delivering the withering shot.

"I think Razetti smells blood in the water. He just put a crack in Gunner's proverbial dam. The flood gates could be opening Ray."
"You wen't through all that to sell that Shining Wizard?"
"It's called commentating Ray. You should try it sometime."

Both men remain motionless, the punishment the superstars have endured thus far seemingly beginning to take its toll on them, meanwhile a "Let's go Reaper" chant slowly builds up in the infamous Solid Core Gymnasium. The man being chanted is the first to move, crawling to the ropes and using them like a crutch to pull himself to a vertical base. Upon struggling at first, the stupefied Rocker is able to stand as well, albeit teetering on his feet, his lower extremities wobbling as if about to crumble under the pressure of holding up his weight any longer. Magnus is the first to strike, as he takes the initiative and greets his adversaries face with his fist, garnering a chorus of boos. Crystov staggers back, before retaliating with a stiff kick to the rocker's midsection, the crowd screaming "YAY" to voice their approval. Dominik doubles over, clutching his solarplexus as he moans in agony. Never one to pass up an opportunity to fly, Razetti turns around to the ropes, quickly pulling himself up onto the top cable. Before he can take flight, the shrewd Michigan man charges forward, throwing his body into the cables, causing the Reaper to lose his footing. With his balance thrown off, the dark messenger plummets down, crotching the ropes, receiving the sympathy of everyone in attendance as the entire crowd groans at the sight. The pain and fatigue sits painted on Crystov's cringing face, and as he hands precariously on the ropes, he gives Gunner a moment to recuperate and ponder his next attack. Magnus doesn't wait long to act, as he scurries to the adjacent ropes. He leaps onto the second cable before springboarding back toward his target. In mid air he rotates his frame, rearing his far leg back like a would be baseball bat, before it across his body in a semi-circle fashion. The sound of his boot clashing into the Reaper's cranium reverberates throughout the small gym, the inhabitants of the venue recoiling with shock and fear at the recent display of brutality. The Rock Messiah lands in the ring, while his counterpart falls off the ropes and drops to the apron with a thud.

"SHATTERED RECORDS! RAZETTI'S ALBUM JUST FLOPPED!"
"That could very well spell the end for the foreign superstar. What a venomous, vicious, vile kick!"

Magnus brings himself to his feet, leaning over the ropes, a smug smirk etched on his face as he taunts his adversary. A volley of disapproval comes from the audience, not fazing the nefarious Detroit resident one bit. The man voted as the most hated man in the company exits the ring and steps onto the apron, grabbing the exhausted, battered Razetti and lifting him to his feet. Magnus stares deep into the Reaper's weary pupils, scoffing to himself, Razetti deliriously staring back at him. Gritting his teeth, the Rock Messiah begins hammering down on the Cruiserweight's forehead, looking like an axman trying to split a block of wood open. He connects with a second, and a third piston like punch, Razetti's fading from each shot. Having served enough knuckle sandwiches, the narcissist delivers a blistering forearm shiver that rattles the Reaper's jaw; the high flyer's chin wires shut from the collision between elbow and face. With his foe in a bad way and begging to be put out of his misery, Magnus plows his knee into his gut, doubling him over. The self proclaimed, "Face of EVPW" executes a standing headscissors, and encircles his opponent's waist with his arms. As he attempts to hoist him into the air, the Russian holds his ground, countering and precluding Gunner from putting the proverbial nail in the coffin. Persistent and pugnacious like a bloodhound, the Rock Messiah tries for a second time, but it proves fruitless. Desperately, he delivers a series of clubbing shots across Razetti's lower back, further softening him up. From there his able to lift his small antagonist into the air, the third try proving the charm as he holds him in position for a Powerbomb. The Loaded Pistol turns to away from the ring, looking to launch his foe off the apron and into oblivion. With a sense of ring awareness, the Reaper suddenly flips backward, wrapping his feet around Gunner's head and coercing him forward. The Motor City madman somersaults off the apron, crashing unceremoniously to the floor below. The two men lie on the padded surface, "THIS IS AWESOME" chants filling the venue, an appreciative response to the targets of that incantation.

"Hurricanrana! Razetti had one more trick up his sleave!
"More like his anus. He pulled that gold nugget right out his rectum. I thought for sure Gunner was going to finish him off.
"That goes to show that you should never count out the heart in a man with nothing to lose, and everything to gain!"