Strangla set up. Aggravation clearly plastered accross his face. Sitting next to Smash he peeled the wire off of his arm. Throwing it randomly to the side of the battle field. Quickly he looked around. Standing up he went to the tazzer. Draining the batteries of the self defense device. Letting every last drop of juice fill his body, via the love handle area. Fighting against the strong currant to stay standing through out the experiance. When little more then a tickle graced his sides he let the instrument fly out over the top of the cages wall. Smash was slowly stirring to his feet. Coming up to all fours, as MadDog blood boiled far more rapidly. The Texas Menace retrieved a steel chair mangled to holy hell. Bent nearly half way back around. He went to town on Smash. Mercifullessly and repeatidly slamming the chair home. Straightening the twisted metal on the Psycho one like he was a human anvil. Long after Smash fell flat and limp on the canvas. A never ending rain storm of the steel constantly falling down on the challenger. Strangla would only cease his brutal atack as the metal grew weak. The chairs tubeing folding and the sitting pew breaking in two. The remains vanishing out side the cage.
DW: My god I think Strangla just put a hundred chair shots down on Psycho Smash!!!!
MT: A hundred!? Somebody slow the footage down and start counting. I think it was way more then one hundred.
DW: No doubt about it. The champion is pissed off, and is looking to make Smash pay.
MadDog continued working quickly. He gathered a set of hand cuffs climbing into one of the corners. One end latching in the steel tubeing forming the top of the cage. Smash scooped over his shoulder in a firemans carry. Strangla charged in. Ramming The Psycho One back first into the unforgiving steel. Leaving him to sit atop the highest turn buckle. Climbing up infront of the challenger Strangla let fist fly. The fans indeed loved to count. 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10 With that MDS stretched Smash's left arm up. Delivering it to the confinds of the handcuffs. Could've been worse for Smash, this wasn't the hot side of the cage. MadDog hopped down. Jerking Mr.'s body off of the turn-buckles. Leaving him to hang like some sort of twisted half assed crusified being. Sheer pain and instinct drove Smash to save himself. His free hand shooting out to the other side of the cages corner. Pulling his body back to rest on the buckles. Too woozy to attempt an escape immediatly.
MadDog was accros the ring. Working in the opposite corner gathering ever last chair he could find. Six of them laid out end to end, and side beside. Four trash can lids bridging over the gaps. Finally the trash cans themselvs. They laid ontop of the chairs across the corner. A runway of metal mayem, leading right to the buckled point of the corner. With that finally set up Strangla returned his attention to Psycho Smash. Not surprised to see him standing under his own power. Fighting for freedom from the hand cuffs. MDS quickly found his old friend the sledge hammer. Running at Smash the twenty pound work end aiming at the challengers gut. Wisely The Psycho raised a boot in his own defense. Too soon, or not soon enough. It didn't work regardless. Strangla rolling around the extended foot. Still able to drive the hammer into Smash's ribcage. Taking the bottom of the handle in just one hand, MadDog shoved it up. The heavy work end, colliding with the bottom of Mr.'s jaw. With the Psycho Smash effectively laid out once more Strangla resumed work. The challengers legs hooking over his shoulders. MadDog climbing up. Forcing Smash up higher, and higher. Strangla shoved his legs over the top of the cage. Smash layed out on his stomach over the top of the cage. Like laundry left to dry as Strangla climbed up with him.
MT: What in the hell is MadDog Strangla up to!?
DW: I don't know, but I doubt it will hold well for either man. This is a dangerous position thier both in.
MT: I don't even want to watch.
Percariously Strangla balanced on top of the steel cage. The guide wire playing favorably to his aid as he snapped the chain links of the hand cuffs. Smash squeeling like a little piggy at the blunt force just applied to his wrist. MadDog slinging the challengers legs length wise with the top of the cage. Bringing the challenger to stand across from him. Smash throwing a wild punch and then another. Looking to find any way out of this he could. A driving low blow knew from MDS stopping that nonsence. Strangla keeping The Psycho one standing. Pulling him into the corner with him. Their legs spliting over the two section of the cage. Smash forced to stand infront of Strangla. Looking out over the audience. MadDog's arms wrapping around his waist. The gentle touch soon changed for a bear like squeeze. Strangla pumping his legs, and jerking his hips. Smash flying up and over out of his grasp. Flipping feet over head as he flew through the air. A belly to back suplex, the victim forced to flip in the air. Set-up to land face first. Strangla flipping just after the release so he could land on his feet. Smash flew through the air like a feather. 3/4's ACROSS THE RING. CRASHING INTO THE RUNWAY STRANGLA HAD JUST BUILT. THE FOUR TRASHCANS FLATTENING ON IMPACT. THE STEEL CHAIRS NO WHERE NEAR AS FORGIVING. SMASH'S FRONT SIDE BOUNCING OFF OF THE HARD STEEL. THE CHALLENGER CRUMPLING OVER HIMSELF. DOUBLING UP THE CORNER JUST BEHIND HIMSELF. Strangla's landing wasn't as perfect as it could be. Hitting hard the force drove him to tumble back landing on his ass. He still faired far better then the Psycho Smash.
DW: OH, my god! I Can't believe it! MadDog Strangla just hit 'The No Room For Error' from the top of the steel cage!!!! A move known for ending careers. Unbelievable.
MT: Smash flying accross the ring landing in that pile of steel and mettal. The horror, I've never seen anything like that before.
Strangla sat on the mat. That run of dominance taking everything out of him. He'd pushed too hard, too fast with no pace set. Completely burnt out little energy left to make it across to Smash and go for the pin attempt. Slowly he stirred, but every movement was a chore now.
(When is it your leaving again?...and I know mds dominance in this post, but as I've said, before the match is over my writing style see's everything ballances out.)