Marcus White vs. Stetson Hayes [YOUTUBE]tfFHKZ0f6Ww[/YOUTUBE] A golden spotlight shined brightly on the entrance ramp. Marcus White strolled on stage wearing attire similar to a boxer: robe, shorts, and taped hands. He basked in the light, and shadowboxed his way down the ramp, with the spotlight following him the entire way. He took the long way in, climbing the steel stairs and standing on the ring apron. The Marquee paused, and gave referee Mike Plancha a scathing look. He gestured at the ring ropes, instructing him to open them for him, as an official should do for a champion. Plancha hesitated, shook his head in disbelief, and did as he was told. Marcus White slipped in and walked casually to a corner of the ring. He waited for Stetson. [YOUTUBE]nak4OVJlhAU[/YOUTUBE] The South knelt down and clasped his hands in prayer. He inaudibly asked for Marcus to come out of the match with only a few scrapes and bruises, as he planned to knock the shit out of him. He shouted "Amen!" before getting back to his feet. Stetson Hayes swaggered down the runway, stopping here and there to take in the crowd, who seemed to be on his side a bit more than The Marquee's. He tipped his cowboy hat to them, slip in the ring, and threw the hat into the front row, receiving a warm inception. Marcus White hyped himself up by jumping up and down in the ring. Stetson Hayes patiently waited for the referee to signal the start of the match. Both men kept their attention on one another, but neither made the opening gambit to antagonize the other. Mike Plancha told them to meet him at the center of the ring to hear the rules of the match. "This is a standard match where all rules apply. No foreign objects inside the ring, no outside interference, and no excessive unruly force. This includes eye-gouging, low blows, fish-hooking and any maneuver that renders the opponent blind. I will be keeping a close watch for any misconduct. If you break the rules, you will lose this match. Do you comply?" Stetson nodded curtly. "Do YOU comply?" Marcus smirked, and mouthed "Yeah". "FIGHT!" Right out of the gate, both men struck relentlessly, punching quicker than the audience can react. Marcus gained the upperhand, shoving Stetson into the ropes. The cowboy guarded his face as the young talent drilled away at his ribs. The moment The Marquee showed signs of slowing down, The South pulled him close and threw him into the ropes, and now it was Stetson's turn to work him over in a classic "Rope A Dope" technique. Each move went by too suddenly for Mike Plancha to issue a Warning. Stetson backed away, but Marcus was not out - giving Stetson a solid Wheelbarrow Kick to the side of his face. He went down, but as he hit the mat, he grabbed Marcus's leg. He wrenched it feebly into a textbook Leg Lock. Marcus rolled and grunted, trying to reach the bottom ropes. Precious minutes drifted by before he could get his hand underneath one, breaking the hold. Heckle: "Each man wants to make a great first impression tonight. They don't even seem to care too much about showboating, which is refreshing really. Haven't seen a knucklebiter like this in a while." Plancha was about to give Stetson the elusive Warning for his hold, but he released it in the nick of time. Marcus pulled himself out of the ring and to the outside using the ropes. The crowd voiced their disapproval to the man that stepped away from Stetson, and in doing so the match. Marcus: "You'll still pay to see The Marquee, though!" This earned him louder jeers. As the BTW official neared a count of 4 ! Marcus White pulled himself up onto the mat. Stetson Hayes was there to pull him in the hard way, but just as he went for the grab White thrust a shoulder into his stomach. Hayes backed away, clutching at his gut. The hot commodity used the ropes as leverage by jumping up, balancing on the top rope, and leaping into the air for a Seated Senton. The redneck caught the full brunt of the assault, and the indy star held onto a leg for the pin. 1 ...2 ... Stetson kicked out of the signature move, coughing harshly. Mike Plancha checked on the wrestler, telling him to remain stationary on the mat. It bothered the audience even further when Plancha signaled for a medic. "Let Them Fight! Let Them Fight! Let Them Fight! Let Them Fight!" "Stetson took that square into the sternum. I sympathize with this crowd, but I'd rather they call this bout off if he's injured. Regardless of how early it'd be. Hoping this isn't the end of their fight, though." The medic sprinted down the runway and slid in. They both examined Stetson's chest and his heart rate. Marcus "The Marquee" White rested in an opposing corner, wiping sweat from his brow. Hayes is arguing with the officials, rolling onto his side. More EMTs arrived to the scene, and they had to restrain the cowboy from getting up. "Bullllshiiiit!" "Bullllshiiiit!" "Bullllshiiiit!" Marcus White pantomimed a yawn. "It appears this fight is not going to continue. I don't know what to say. Marcus White is going to win by referee stoppage." A replay aired, showing Marcus's pelvis smacking dead into The South's chest. Once gravity took over, Stetson's back slammed into the mat in a jarring, catatonic position. As the video ended, he grasped close to his collar bone, spitting up flecks of blood as well. [YOUTUBE]S7B2VgRShew[/YOUTUBE] Mr. Sytes walked through the curtains with microphone in hand. He observed what was happening in the ring, and nodded with a stoic expression on his face. Sytes: "Aight, listen South. You need to stay calm and let the doctors roll you out of here. Your health is top priority here in BTW- Don't you get up! Don't do it Stetson! DAMMIT STETSON!" Hayes was back to his feet, knocking medics down left and right. He even gave an official the STO. Security bumrushed the ring in droves, tackling the man's legs and forcing him onto a stretcher to get him out of there. He resisted the entire way, shouting expletives as they carted him passed The Owner of BTW. Sytes looked on, shaking his head. Sytes then turned his attention to The Marquee. Marcus was on his way out of the ring. "Where do you think you're going? Did you hear Mike Plancha call for the bell? Naw. That means your fight continues. I have somebody who is ready for a challenge, and you still look fresh so let's see how you handle this man..." Sytes left the ramp, leaving Marcus White questioning what was going on. And that was when the music hit. Marcus White vs. Cavalcade [YOUTUBE]kyXz6eMCj2k[/YOUTUBE] "Now You're Messin' With A...SONOVABITCH!!!" Now You're Messin' With A...SONOVABITCH!!!" Cavalcade spun around on the ramp, firing up the live audience. He pointed at Marcus White and shouted "Fooker!" for some reason and the fans went nuts. "Now You're Messin' With A...SONOVABITCH!!!" Now You're Messin' With A...SONOVABITCH!!!" He made a wild dash down the runway and slid into the ring. Cavalcade slid so hard into the ring that he managed to find his way on the opposite side of the squared circle, falling out and rolling to the outside. Cavalcade headbanged to his music, getting an enormous pop. "Now You're Messin' With A...SONOVABITCH!!!" Now You're Messin' With A...SONOVABITCH!!!" Cavalcade climbed the stairs and walked along the ring apron, eyeballing the young star, who was beyond confused at that point. Cavalcade grabbed the corner ring post, and swung to another side of the ring apron. And then the other. And then the other. He laughed at the expression Marcus White made at that moment. The psychotic wrestler bit into the top rope, furiously staring down his opponent. "Now You're Messin' With A...SONOVABITCH!!!" Now You're Messin' With A...SONOVABITCH!!!" He stepped inside. ""Alright. This is a standard match where all rules apply. No foreign objects inside the ring, no outside interference, and no excessive unruly force. You know the drill. Do you comply?" Marcus White nodded, no longer smirking. Do YOU comply? Cavalcade did nothing but laugh. ...FIIIIGHT!!! Marcus sprinted across the ring, delivering a clothesline. Cavalcade didn't budge. The youngster went for a another clothesline, but the crazy headbutted Marcus square off of his feet! Cavalcade took a victory lap as fans laughed and cheered the quirky superstar on. "Now You're Messin' With A...SONOVABITCH!!!" Now You're Messin' With A...SONOVABITCH!!!" The Marquee crawled along the mat. Cavalcade took off...and kicked his fookin' face in with The Game Winning Kick! He had the sense to drag him away from the ropes before the pin- 1 !.....2 !.....3 !..... Marcus White remained prone on the canvas. Cavalcade got up, dusted himself off, stepped out of the ring and sprinted right back to the ramp and out of the arena. "Wow. In a hellacious turn of events, Stetson Hayes had to leave the fight due to what looked like a bone fracture, and maybe some internal bleeding. Cavalcade replaced him, and he made quick work of the protege. I can barely hear myself over this arena."