Tagteam Championship Blood-Cage Match

<<Microphone>>
Eternity Death Street Brawl Rules for the Rude ones, heading for the main event as battle royal in competition and for doubled company. Featuring rocka for roller and blade in the ring. The Contenders on the bottom. Guardian Angels Indestructable .vs. the Rat Pack Connection, remind their Query for Intermission and the Trailer Sequence of the creatures they were antes la lucha. Writing of history and a fight out of hell for honour of Valhalla. The Europeans in Corner Blue, call him the indestructable Portuguese Manowar and B.B. the King Brawler of Mailbattles. Ihre Verehrer nennen sie spöttisch Gartenzwerge, small like the both of them the strong they are.
On the other, and against, Fat Boy Slime Roller and Aker the Babber, in Corner Red. As a night of contenders, a night for champions, let it roll, get the fear, hidden like secrets the eyes. Time for brawl, time for history, see just the Buffer "lets geeet reaaaaady too rrrrruuuuuuuummmmmmmmmbbble". Crash.


theindesctructables

<<commercial>>
This week for Pay per View, watch it Live, the Event of the Universe. Slaughterbrawl out of living hell, show event for grown ups, blood seen to be likely. Expect the heel turns en masse, Manöver wie Maschinengewehrfeuer. Babyfaces may be popular in America, not with us. Our pants light the ashs bone like Al the idol on top of his never forgotton amamzing highschool football and street brawl career. Watch out, keep the line, and order the right point in time. <<spotted>>

A reminder as the battle starts and the commercial sequence got finished for further preparation der Schlacht. Down the steel they pulled the faces of the ugly ones from the very beginning once the bang for beating tuned up the hall. Yeah, you never know, call them Babyfaces, take them for heels?! No no no, that one's for sure and reminder of following contendership. Get it clear buddys, you want to challenge them, europeans with fire de la peninsula?! Take it seriously, they're playing, with the opponent and watch for them executing their neck breaking tackle. Es increible, how they smashed the heads of the enemy as if they were playing ping pong in chinese democracy. The challengers made a poor figure all night long, it was not one moment they really were in charge of the ring. No, all like being a big kind of choreography, they were famous for all the way down their career. Big names? No, we, are the big names, the secret of success whenever they started from scratch and whichever league they entered to become the Worlds Nr. 1. For sure on the strings it's up to them.

The evil ones had to get the stars faced and painted with the darkened juice sprinkled out of their veins as well the pain they deserved. It was a dark match, never knew when lights turned off, when did they turn on or who kept freezing like the Undertaker using whatever looked promising to smash heads across the ring. Death man's rollin thunder and how it turned back, european honorship, intelligence in fighting by strategy. Three on one, two on two and sometimes four against the audience. Like Angels from heaven the ropes became their mastermind and that way it was clear by time and who should be for sure the nights winners on the art to steal the big show. Was that Mankind, looking down from the curtain? What could he have in mind, will he turn his friends, turn the enemies into victory?! No, Cactus Jack is not that kind of man, as usual staying the guardian like all the stars of next generation and not the one D-X. Hard to recall and that he teamed up stone cold, that cage looks like checkboxed secure. Back to the scenery, inside the cage. The Challengers tried as hard as could, major weakness of their strategy: teamwork. Manowar and the King, tag in and out like cruising lightnings it was so easy for them to confuse the opponents like whistles of flies. Crash, Hammer and back to the rope, take the swing out and elbow-slam over the top. Most of the time it was Aker to do the job on the heels side the very match. Fatboy didn't look having guts enough to play like a man. No, don't tag me in, no, he looked a bit frightened. The more the day turned into night and the moon appeared on the horizon of the Beach Stage, yeah, he made understand us the rumours of dope.

It was a fight on questions of who keeps tricks dirty, who's able to sweep the ring floor with the enemies face and all it turned so lucky the ladder up the ladder down. Razor Ramon, right exactly, who could not remember him on his famous days, a Truck Driving Diesel by side and Hulkster before the age could have required him to retire the hall of fame. As well he was prepared to see and how the team of peoples choice took his favored instrument for extremes and continued being the european and international tag-team champions while him sitting front line in theatre. For the records important, the Champions. They: are the undefeatables; not to deconstruct, neither destroyable, hammerslam, powerchoke and shooting guns, the outter cage protection for interference. Aker the Babber, aka Babber Al, as called from old "friends" who most probably turned all on him, when he turned on referees decision for him having been tagged out. The Big boss men and his alter egos entered the scene for the finisher movement to be stunned in Corner blue. Como seleccionador he ran down the aisle providing help from the very moment the army of the stinking monkey gang tried to strip the champions off the belts, climbing the cage but it was to late to fool us whom they were to support. The crowd went nuts when they smelled "our" champions will remain, justice for the pair of blacks. It was in the air all night, hours long like years having passed. Smartass's know the better way: hammerchoke, flip flop and the tombstone driver steps down the ladder, for the both of the Rat Pack Connect. Blood went down their bodies already and everybody knew what will happen. Identifiable for anybody after? No, and don't imagine any of them to enter a ring after. An amazing finisher and ram it down knock them out, both of them in parallel. From the sidelines, 1-2-3, the ladder up, got the belts, the kids stayed the men. The bell, ding dong, and Doink the clown rang it, got the message:

Commercial.

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