Exhaustion and pain gripped like the icy hand of death upon both men. Agony flowed through Psycho Smash's body following the devastating move from MDS. With each flinching movement Strangla's being burnt from fatigue. Never before had he found the simple task of movement so challenging, dragging his lifeless body to the ring ropes. Using them to their full potential as he pulled his body up their ladder like form. Gulping in air as he stood begging to replenish his form and find what he needed to carry on. He stumbled across the ring kicking tools of torture out of his path, heading for Mr. Name Altering Psycho Smash. The far ring corner was a jumble of steel, tin, human flesh, blood, and bone. The Psycho One buried in there amongst all the dented and destroyed trash cans and chairs. MadDog spotted a boot and closed in.
DW: Oh, my god! I can't believe it!? How!?
MT: I'm just as speechless as you.
A heavy boot amazingly shot out of the mountain of metal, between up and through Strangla's legs. MadDog doubled over from the low blow, gnarled trash can bottom spiking his dome. Slowly Smash raised from the carnage, the mayhem tumbling off of his body folding chair gripped in both his hands. Coming high over his head as he sit-up, swinging down as his spine aligned. Exploding into the back of MadDog Strangla's head MDS falling flat like a morgue patron. Mr. Smash mimicked Strangla using the ring ropes to pull himself up. Staggering around the ring like Devin Reilly on a good night the Psycho One cleared the ring of litter. Throwing spent trash cans over the cage walls, badly battered steel chairs treated the same. By the time he was done all the remained was Strangla's sledge and four of the steel chairs. Straddling over MadDog's downed form the head of the hammer drove down. The twenty pounds of solid iron slamming into the back of MDS's exposed neck. A brutally blunt guillotine threatening to pop head from neck, like champagne cork from bottle. The multi-purpose shop tool sailing over the top of the cage, Smash moving on to decorate the ring with the last four chairs.
MT: What is Smash up to a chair in front of each corner like that?
Psycho Smash had MadDog Strangla hooked under his arm. Raising the Texan feet high towards the rafters and falling back, vertical suplex laying MDS out over one of the steel chairs. Rolling and popping his hips Smash brought himself and Strangla around. The duo raising and the Psycho one pushing MadDog's form high into the air once more. Turning slightly he lined themselves opposite the first chair. There were three more in the ring, each as the first was. Laying across the angle of the corner, a few feet out from the ring post. Strangla crashed down gripping at his back Mr. Smash not giving him a moment of relief. Snapping at the hips and rolling over still hooked to MadDog Strangla.
DW: There's still two left! I think Psycho Smash is planning quadruple vertical suplexes.
MT: And worse yet all four of them on to a steel chair....
It was time for number three Smash with MadDog held high once more. Delivering him like Carl 'the Mailman' Malone perfectly on target scoring the battering three point swish. The fourth came as the first three had. The Psycho one struggling to bring MadDog up for this final impaction, Strangla was growing heavy. Happily Smash fell back letting MDS bounce painfully off the unforgiving steel chair. He had to crawl over Strangla's chest, the until now forgotten ref coming in to count the pin fall. 1...2...
The arena jump with just as much excitement as when Mr. Smash shot a boot out between Strangla's legs. The Texas Menace remarkably, amazingly, inspiringly kicking out of the weak pin hold Smash had implicated. A pissed off challenger argued quickly with the ref, a hard fist grinding across Strangla's chin. Smash bringing himself and the champion up immediately after. A biding war of fists split between the two before Strangla's attitude was subsided once more. The rest happened in a whirl of lights to MadDog Strangla before he knew it was wasn't the DWF StrikeZone champion any longer. 3 echoing through the ring area as the ref smacked his hand for the third and final time of the match. His eyes fluttering while attempting to shake the cobwebs away, Lillian Garcia's sweet voice realizing the nightmare.
"Ladies and Gentlemen Your Winner and the new DWF StrikeZone Brand Champion Mr.....I'm sorry, Psycho Smash!"
DW: Amazing Psycho Smash hitting the 'Smash Bomb' out of no where on MadDog Strangla. Laying the champion out over a steel chair.
MT: Attaining the three count on top of the mangled steel, and the Championship.