Playing With the Big Dogs

Match Type: Standard Match
Victory Conditions: Pinfall, submission, or KO.

---

Edgar Shaw sat backstage, propped up on the back two legs of his chair while he lounged, boots up on the table before him. He had a tendency to haunt this particular part of the backstage area. It was quiet, semi secluded, and the lone monitor showing the current Tension taping in process made for decent white noise to drift away to sleep to. Once he and Leah had arrived, she had buggered off someplace and he couldn't be bothered to go looking. His corner of the back area might as well have been the info counter at a store, if the girl got lost she knew he would be there waiting... or he left her here to go back to the apartment. Either way he was easy to find for someone who knew where to look. He had been enjoying his lazy drift in and out of sleep when he felt something off. The gentle sound of breathing, that ominous feeling something was close to you... He opened one eye to find Leah's beaming face nearly pressed to his as she leaned into his personal bubble.

"Peek-a-boo~ Rise and shine sleepy head." Leah clapped her hands down on Edgar's knees as she leaned her weight down on him, her smile widening even further once she say he was actually among the living. Her brother was giving her a look, as if waiting for her to get to the point. This, from her experience tended to be his default look, so it didn't deter her much. "I have a match... are you jealous~?" She rocked a bit, making Edgar's chair and him wobble a bit.

"No." Edgar responded flatly, closing his eyes again. He knew better than to humor her, especially when she was giving him looks like that. She just wanted him to watch her match most likely. He always would, unless it was some hentai bullshit, but he wouldn't give her the satisfaction to think he did it because she asked him to.

Leah pouted, leaning in far enough to press their foreheads together, applying enough of her weight into the lean he opened up his eyes again. "You should be... It's against Beowulf!"

Edgar reached out, nudging Leah back enough to wedge his hand up in her face, slowly pushing her back to arms length. "You know better than to lie to me L. Mom would be so disappointed in you." He tutted softly with the shake of his head.

Leah stood awkwardly at arms length from Edgar, still leaning into his palm, trying to shift from one side or the other but he continued to cut her off. "I'm not... I... stop! I'm not lying!" She threw up her arms, flailing her hands at his hand to bat it away in a prissy cat fight fashion.

"Then it's not the real Beowulf. It's going to be some random Japanese guy in a knock off costume. Beowurf." He knew who Beowulf was, it was hard not to. Leah was a huge wrestling fan even before they came to Japan. That guy was an icon, a legend, a household name. Why would he be here in Japan? More importantly why would he be matched up against his sister. What a shit show that would be. "Dude's too famous to beat up a twerp like you."

"He is not to famous to beat me up! Wait... no, that's not what I meant! I meant I'm not a twerp... why are you so meeeeean! It is totally the real Beowulf, and I'm going to have a match, and it's going to be the GREATEST match ever. I'll show you... Also that's racist!" Straightening up she pressed her balled fists to her hips giving Edgar one of those intense pouty lipped faces that made it hard to take her serious... sorta defeated the purpose.

"Okay, so lets just say this is the real Beowulf. Follow me here. That guy is big... like..." He raised a hand, gesturing above Leah's head. "I am willing to bet he weights almost double your scrawny ass."

"My butt isn't scrawny... I have a very well formed, lovely bottom I'll have you know." She glanced back over her shoulder, arching her back a bit to stick out her rump, giving it a quick look.

"L, do you even remember any of this dudes matches?" Edgar let out a long drawn out sigh. Sometimes it was like he was talking to a brick wall with Leah.

"Yeah, of course. Beowulf is pretty much the best." She nodded ecstatically. He had all the best catch phrases, and moves, and won all the time.

He snapped his fingers, pointing at her. Finally a thread of common understanding. "...And are you the best?" He leaned in slightly, head lowered to stare up at her  from the top of his eyes.

"Well, no... but I try really hard." She clasped her hands together, wringing her fingers.

"Well, try not to get murdered tonight. I don't want to have to explain how you broke your neck under my watch to mom and dad."

"Come support me ringside?" She laced her fingers together, shaking her hands in the prayer position.

Edgar quirked a brow. This was new. "Why, it's not like I can lend you my energy or anything. You aren't hoping he takes me out so you can unleash for final form or something, are you?"

"...No, but that would be pretty awesome if it happened." Her eyes lit up with stars in them at the thought. She wondered what cool new abilities she would gain.

"Thanks L." Edgar squinted at his sister giving her a dismissive roll of his eyes.

"I just want you there, okay? It's not like it's a hard request. I never ask you for anyth-"

"Ice cream. Manga. Video games. Plushies. That keyboard you never play. Those dumb little figures..." He had started to count on his fingers.

"Amiibo. They aren't dumb, they are collectable."

Edgar slapped a palm to his face, dragging his fingers down along his cheek to stretch out his skin slightly. "Point is, you ask me for shit all the time."

"Please... please please please? Pretty please? This is going to be the coolest match of my career, ever, and what want to share it with my brother." She clasped her hands on his shoulder giving him a soft shake.

"Stop. Fine. I surrender." He held up his hands, anything to get her to stop annoying him.

"You should carry to to the ring on your sho-"

"No, stop pushing your luck. Go get changed, I'll meet you at the curtain." He gave Leah a small shove.

"Can't blame me for trying." She grinned from ear to ear, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"I can, and I do. Piss off." He waved a hand dismissively at her as she scampered off.

---

Leah's Theme:

Leah Shaw:

Edgar Shaw:

As Leah's music hit, there was already a decent pop from the crowd. While she was still a relatively new face, she had been making quite an impression on the fans of Tension with both her straight matches as well as dipping her toes into the saucy stuff. The addition of Edgar trailing her as she slipped from the curtains was an odd one. Most people had even known the two of them were siblings which raised questions on what the two were in relation to one another. Unlike his sister, Edgar had only one prior match in tension and it wasn't as if he had done much to pander to the crowd. By proxy however, he was receiving slightly more attention now that was more favorable to his career... as if he cared.

While it was an intimidating prospect, fighting a dedicated professional as experienced as Beowulf, she was confident as ever she could bring him to a good match with her. She had been on a roll lately after all, so she must be pretty good. She hadn't done much to pump of the crowd beyond radiating the natural energy that came from her simply being around. The odd few high fives and leaning in to take a photo as well. She was quick to return to Edgar who was moving down the ramp at a slow and steady pace.

Leah slide herself into the ring, rolling under the bottom rope. Springing to her feet she ran from rope to rope, springing off each before throwing up the good old double V signs to the delight of the audience. She smiled so genuinely at the fanfare it only endeared her more with them. She backpedaled to one corner, limbering up with a few stretches as she anxiously awaited her opponent. It was time to show Edgar she wasn't lying... as far as she knew anyhow.

Edgar had taken to roaming the outside, lifting the ring apron every so often to look for something below. After a few failed attempts to locate it, he finally found what he wanted. He pulled out a black steel chair from under the ring, dragging it along the floor to set it up next to the barricade. He plopped himself down, not wanting to stand despite expecting this to be a short match.

"Beowulf...Beowulf..."

If you were to ask your typical internet wrestling fanboys about why some wrestling promotions weren't as engrossing as they once were back in their glory days, most would point the finger of blame to backstage politics and senile wrestling company owners pushing the wrong talent down the people's throats. Certain federations simply refused to see the writing on the wall when it came to what the people wanted, and the business suffered. As a result, there were very few pure, naturally charismatic wrestlers who also had the ability to draw in massive crowds and sell-out stadiums with but a mention of their name on the fight card.

"Beowulf!!!...Beowulf!!!...Beowulf...!!!"

So when one of those last few wrestling pioneers was scheduled to make his first ever appearance in a country who have never had the opportunity to see the wrestling legend in person...the result was a jam-packed arena filled to the rafters with raving Wulfamaniacs chanting his name...a sea of foam wolf fingers bobbing up and down along with life-size cardboard cutouts of the flexing Wulfman himself...and a monumental hype-train barreling out of control if it's conductor didn't make his appearance within the next few seconds or risk a full-blown riot to break out.

"I am a real American...Fight for the rights of man...I am a real American...Fight for what's right...FIGHT FOR YOUR LIFE!!!!"

The Wulfman!!!:

The booming eruption of cheering adulation blew the roof off the stadium as people felt goosebumps on their arms and shivers go down their spine as Beowulf's theme started playing and the Wulfman himself came strutting out!! The wrestling legend taking it all in as he stomped down the ramp mouthing words only he could hear and pointing all around the crowd before pointing straight at the ring and his opponent for the night inside. The fact that his theme was distinctly pro-American only engrossed the crowd further, Japanese sensibilities always having had an admiration for all things American anyway. The man who seemed larger than life itself slapped the outstretched hands of his fans until he stepped into the ring and wasted little time in enthusiastically playing to the audience. Beowulf would cup his ear to each side of the ring to gauge which side raised the decibel levels the loudest, and rewarded that side with a manly flexing of prodigious pectorals!!! Once the gun show was over, Beowulf would be handed a mic from the referee and started to address his fellow Wulfamaniacs!!!

"OHHH YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!!! I MAY HAVE TRAVELED HALFWAY AROUND THE WORLD, BUT I CAN SEE THAT WULFAMANIA IS STILL RUNNING WILD!!!" Beowulf paused for the crowd pop while raising his hands in the air until they got the cheers out of their system. "You may not have expected to see the main man bring his 24-inch pythins out here to tussle with the ladies, but the Wulf-man here is an equal opportunist who says the ladies can throw-down right along with the guys and are just as tough, and have just as much competitive spirit backing them up!!! And I'm here to cultivate the next generation of bright young hopefuls and see if these ladies can put on a five-star match, but LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHING SISTER!!!!" Beowulf than turning in place to finally address his opponent across the ring with a competitive smile and fiery confidence in his eyes."I've heard some good things about you, but now's the time to show me what you got, and show the good people here you're not just another candy-ass jabroni!!! So tell me sister, are you ready to throw-down with the WULF-MAN!!!???" Beowulf than lowered his microphone to let the crowds cheer once more, and to see how good Leah's own mic skills were.

Leah roamed the ring, pacing as she eyed the entryway. The anticipation was killing her. This was Beowulf, the real one, she knew it. Edgar was just giving her a hard time… this could possibly be the biggest match of her career. AFW had its share of stars between Tension and Friction, but how many wrestling LEGENDS did it play host to. Her excitement was at odds with her nerves leaving her in an awkward haze of butterflies in her stomach.

Her own merger audience reaction was steadily drown out by the rising wave of chants for Beowulf. Ordinarily she may have been off put by the difference in support, but even she was mouthing the chants with the crowd. As the music hit and the crowd exploded around her it was a feeling like no other. She hadn't ever been to a live show, as an active competitor or a audience member where the atmosphere was so lively. What would it feel like if this was what sort of reaction she would.get some day… how unreal.

As Beowulf came into view she tried to not make it look so obvious she hurried to the front of the ring to get a closer look. Her fingers curled around the top rope as she stared on with stars in her eyes, using every ounce of her being to keep from letting out a fangirl squeal. She shifted her weight from leg to leg anxiously, squeezing the ropes tightly.

Edgar had been slouched in his chair, leaning back with folded arms. As the crowd went wild, he was rolling his eyes. So they had his music, apparently, big whoop. As the audience roared and chants and cheers became deafening he lifted his head to squint over the top of the base of the ring. “Well shit.” He murmured to himself. That seemed to be him. Here. Somehow. Why?

Leah was going to give him so much shit for this, in her own little way. Poking and prodding about how he should be more positive or trust her more. What a drag. This posed an immediate problem though, not because of his sister but on behalf of her. While Leah, by most standards, was a decent wrestler, for a girl, Beowulf was a seasoned professional of a calibur far superior to her. For whatever reason they had decided to throw his sister to the wolves.

His look of slight confusion had slowly darkened as he watch the Wulfman make his way to the ring. If they wanted to get a show out of turning Leah into some sort of sacrificial offering to this dude, they had another thing coming. He sat up a bit straighter, lacing his fingers in between one another as he quietly stewed. He wouldn't hear the end of it of Leah caught him cheating for her, he was pretty sure if she wound up getting disqualified it would be even worse. He could deal. Normally he was fine with seeing her humbled, as long as she didn't get hurt. This however grinded his gears.

Leah had been watching intently, listening and hanging on every word. Once he had begun his descent down the ramp she hopped back away from the ropes,  backing to the far end of the ring to give him room. Her mouth hung partially open, in truth she looked a bit dopey. It took her a moment to remember Beowulf was talking directly at her, not as a fan in the audience, but his opponent for the evening. He was standing right there, all she had to do was walk a few steps to poke him. She snapped to attention when he tossed her a bit of unexpected praise. He knew about her? Beowulf knew who she was…

“Ohmaigod…” she whispered softly to herself. Her brow furrowed at the mention of her being a jabroni. She certainly wasn't. She was also pretty sure, while she had a lovely tush, it had nothing to do with being like candy for as much of an insult as that could be... What was up with boys taking pot shots at her butt today anyhow?

“You bet I a-” she had been talking with a raised voice, no microphone in hand. She was almost entirely drowned out by the crowd leaving her shut down for a moment. She looked among the audience, huffing as they cheered over what she felt was her turn. Rather than wait it out, she ducked down between. The top and bottom rope, motioning for a microphone. One was promptly run over to her. After a soft thank you she slipped back into the ring to stare Beowulf down.

“You bet I am!" She stood tall, radiating confidence that many would assume was rather misplaced. Whether or not she could win wasn't really in her mind, she was just excited to face off against someone who was so decorated in the business, especially someone she grew up watching.

She threw her arm out towards  Beowulf, pointing at him as fiercely as she could muster. “You may be big and bad, but it's going to take a whole lot more than huffing and puffing to blow me down buster brown!” She planted her fist on his hip, thrusting her weight out to one side. “That pelt of yours will make for a fine trophy for my mantle, hope you aren't too attached.” She cracked a wide grin, buying into her own theatrics. This was one of her favorite things about wrestling, playing characters was the best. "Wulfamania is gonna be running tired, all over the mat after I lay you out for that one! Two! Three!" She threw out her hand, counting along with her fingers.

Considered a living legend of the wrestling business, Beowulf prided himself on having an eagle eye for that raw and untapped potential in the younger generation of up and coming grapplers. One of the provisions of Beowulf's contract was that he would be given carte blanche towards picking his debut opponent, and while throwing down with a well-regarded Tension champion would have been a marquee match-up worth headlining PPV's, the Wulf-man's first priority in coming all the way to the land of the rising sun was to help train and cultivate youngbloods out here.

And Beowulf saw something in Leah Shaw that made her stand out above the other dedicated rookies. The girl definitely had the wrestling skills to give the crowd a damn decent show, and definitely had a hopeful ring presence that made you rally behind her like any of those natural-born good guys in the ring. It was one of those innate traits that you couldn't teach and just had to be born with.

But what officially sealed the deal for the Wulfman was her debut match with that obnoxious kid Levi. Where even after all that blustering bravado he tossed her way for all of that cheap heat, she never sunk down to his level and still respected her opponent. Hell, she even went as far as to offer the poor dude a helping hand back to his feet after she scored the W. "Ha!!...this kid's got guts, spunk, moxie, gumption...and maybe a few other things that I don't really know what they mean...but she's got'em!!!" Beowulf thought to himself after perusing her match catalogue. And now, after seeing her light up like a Christmas tree and soundly give him a solid rebuttal in their promo, the Wulf-man knew he made the right call in giving this brash rookie the spotlight to spread her wings.

"HA!!! You may talk the talk little lady, but as you know, to be the man, you gotta beat the man. And it's gonna take you a lifetime of training before you can come close to beating THIS WULF-MAN ANYTIME SOON!!!" Beowulf rocketed the devil horns up on his hand to a resounding crowd pop before lowering his arm to flex out his bulging bicep. "Now, whaddya say we put you to the test against these 24-inch pythons, and see if you stand strong like a cemented brick house, or crumple to pieces like a pile of kindling sticks. Cause ready or not...Wulf-A-Mania's bout to run...wild...on...YOU!!!" Beowulf gave his lasting words a raspy and commanding inflection, the audience mimicking his trademark catchphrase before he passed the microphone away. The Wulf-man than took a few steps forward so the wrestling legend could stand close enough so Leah could hear his whispered words while having his burly arms crossed and a confident smirk on his face.

"Hey, not bad on the promo kid. Didn't ramble, flowed naturally, and you had some good lines there. Jus don't forget to steady your breathing. Helps with projecting your voice..."

Something went wrong in Leah's brain. Maybe it was the fired up crowd, the adrenaline pumping through her veins, or the wafting air of machismo permeating her every fiber from sharing a ring with Beowulf but she thought it was a good idea to march herself right up to him and look his right in the eyes... or try! He had a pretty substantial height difference on her, standing side by side the two made for an extremely odd pairing that many hadn't considered until seeing them so close. She reached up, jabbing a finger into the professional wrestling legend's chest.

"I'm not little... You can be THE MAN all you want, because this WO-MAN..." She flexed her own arm, jutting a thumb out to point at herself. "...is going to take you down! Hope you have pet insurance, cause you're going to need to check those pythons into a vet when I get done with you!" She had the gift of mic skills, but frankly, as spirited as she was it was a rather ridiculous showing. If the people of Tension were looking for a good old fashion David vs Goliath story, they have come to filming on the right night. The tiny, in comparison, girl chewing out Beowulf was more adorable than intimidating.

She had a hardened look to her, ready to throw down here and now! Though a bit of that faded at the whispered praise and word of helpful advice. There was no way she would ever forget it. Was this the real Beowulf? Talking to her? Giving her advice?! Her lips tight as she held in a squeal, a bit of it getting out in a small whistle akin to a tea kettle. With a shake of the head she returned to her steely gaze up at him, really trying to sell a fictitious air of animosity between the two of them. Leah backed away, up tilting her chin up at Beowulf with her arms thrown wide as if she were some sort of hoodlum.

As she created distance from her she could hear her heart pounding in her chest and feel a small speckling of sweat beading on her forehead. She had just done something she never dreamed were possible... after this, she would need to write a bucket list just to cross this part of it off! She glanced around, tossing her mic to a on hand staffer before turning back to face Beowulf. One of her legs slipped back, shoulders lowering as she raised her hands up. Her fingers wiggled, waiting for the bell as ready as she could ever be to face the sensation himself. This was her time to shine, and nothing was going to get in her way.

The size discrepancy between the two of them did raise some questions as to how much of a legitimate chance Leah had against her brawny opponent. Who not only had a few inches of height over the scrappy newcomer, but also nearly two decades of in-ring experience to fill out his extensive grappling resume. But what Beowulf could see that your normal wrestling fan might miss was the youthful and impassioned wrestling spirit she had that made her ten feet taller in Beowulf's eyes...okay maybe not a whole ten-feet taller, but the Wulf-man could still see a natural talent for getting on the microphone and making her seem larger than life. And that was a great first step in mastering her mic skills.

Beowulf may have been acting a tad impetuously by offering his sagely advice right in the middle of their heated promo, but Beowulf just had a natural tendency to lecture the younger generation whenever he had the opportunity. Plus he thought bringing things back down to Earth might help settle her nerves after probably being swept up in all of the hype and trash-talking. He noticed the fangirl-ish sparkle in Leah's starry eyes and the squealish glee in her voice, which was about the typical initial reaction he provoked from the young bucks these days, but was impressed to see her stick to the program with a cocky swagger to her backpedaling.

Beowulf smirked and nonchalantly stepped towards the ropes. The Wulf-man than firmly grasping the top rope with both hands and tugging hard on them to test their elasticity and make sure they weren't too tightly or too loosely strung up. It was an old-school method of gauging the tension of the ropes while also getting in a little bit of a stretching exercise to help limber yourself up. It was a clever method of performing two tasks at once, and one he would put to use on the adjacent top rope until the ringing of the bell signaled that it was time to get this show on the road.

The Wulf-man cocked his neck from side to side and approached, judging from Leah's grappling stance, what looked like an invitation to lock horns with the legendary veteran. Beowulf saw it as a matter of manly pride to never turn down those types of invites, so with a stomping step forward he would lock-up with Leah and assign one hand to the back of her neck and another atop her petite bicep. Beowulf stood his ground and made sure not to give an inch for several seconds before putting every fiber of his muscled strength into pitching Leah backward for a tumbling roll into her corner. The Wulf-man than giving everyone a first class ticket to the gun show by flexing his muscles with a burly roar, a hyped up crowd popping wildly with cameras flashing everywhere from seeing one of his trademark poses that struck fear into the hearts of his former opponents!!!

"YAAAAHHHHH!!!!!!"

Once the bell rang, she was off. Covering the distance between them with careful strides, making sure she moved at just the right pace opposite Beowulf to collide mid ring. She clapped her hands down on him, having to lean in a bit more than she usually did. Her initial surge was stopped the instant they locked up. Her efforts to twist or lead met with stiff resistance. She would have seen more progress grappling with a car. She let out a small strained cry, trying her darndest to make something happen, but it was pretty clear while her opponent t was fresh, she wasn't going to be overpowering him, no the surprise of nobody but her.

She gave a surprised squeak as she was thrown backwards, hitting the mat hard. She tumbled along the ground, once, twice, in full rotations before she caught herself, boots squealing in protest against the canvas as she slid to a stop. Kicking off the ground, she rocketed forward, undeterred by how handily he had tossed her. While he was punching tickets to the gun show, she was jumping the fence, coming right at the industry giant.

Arms pumping, head low, she turned her small portion of the ring into a runway for take off, leaping high into the air directly at the Wulf-man himself. Her eyes flashed with intensity as her target was locked in. Twisting horizontally mid fight, her legs snapped forward in unison as she came flying in to crash land her boots dead center on his chest. It wasn't as if she had picked a hard target, she would have just as easy a time hitting the broad side of a barn.

In a way, Beowulf wasn't all that surprised that Leah went for a lockup with the burly wolf-man when the outcome was all but written in stone...that is, unless she had some flippy counter in mind beforehand. He could see by the adrenalized fire in her eyes that she wasn't going to be opening up this match in any other way, and while not tactically sound, it did showcase Leah's fearlessness in the face of adversity. A simple act of headstrong bravery like that probably earned her a few more hopeful and pint-sized fans in the audience whether she was aware of it or not. But Beowulf wasn't about to go easy on her, and making her pay the consequences was just another way of doling out that wrestling wisdom of his.

So after an impressive show of muscled force that sent the little lady comically tumbling into the corner behind her, Beowulf took the time to show off with an aspect of wrestling long since forgotten and underappreciated...Posing. Nothing quite rallied the crowd behind you like a well-implemented pose after knocked your opponent flat on their ass. The right pose can rattle your opponent into second guessing themselves while keeping the crowd momentum in your favor, and he was saddened to see the youngins not appreciate it as they did back in his day.

Unfortunately that trend continued to this match as well. As Leah took to the air before he could get phase one of his posing repertoire off the ground as she drilled him hard in his muscled pectorals with that agile dropkick of hers. Beowulf being knocked off of his feet to a slamming thud on his back and a resounding crowd pop at the spunky rookie felling the wrestling legend. But the winded and startled wolf-man was already starting to climb back to a vertical position at a quickened rate, trying to get a bead on where Leah would be coming for him next...

Leah wasn't the greatest thinker. She certainly spent much of her time thinking about things, though the relevancy and use of those things didn't seem to really line up with furthering any of her goals in life. Simple things such as: “Why are carrots generally more orange than oranges?” or “Why doesn't Tarzan have a big bushy beard if he lived in the jungle all his life? Did animals teach him how to shave? Who is giving monkeys razor blades?” Pressing stuff like that.

In the ring however, she was more focused, more capable. She didn't think so much as act off instinct. While not having a plan didn't tend to be the most sound way to find solutions to most problems in the world, it served her well here. She was a natural at picking things up as she went and playing along to whatever beat was set.

Had she planned to be thrown back, or even lose the first exchange with Beowulf when she locked up with him? No, she hadn't, but being thrown back presented her with opportunity. She wasn't just up against another wrestler tonight. She was up against THE wrestler. THE MAN. It was as if someone lit a fire inside her, pushing her to give no room to breath, she wanted to impress him, she wanted to beat him.

Both bodies hit the canvas one after the other, Leah’s significantly lighter landing was almost unnoticeable lost within the rippling shockwave of her larger for rocking the ring. She wasn't surprised by flooring him, not as much as she should have been. She liked to always envision things as a best case scenario before moving to the next, as it stood she was in a better position.

The noise of the crowd and the rush of success made her blood pump faster, harder, she could feel her thumping heartbeat threatening to burst from her chest. She rolled to her side, finding her footing easily enough to rise quickly from a slight crouch before she was moving back at Beowulf. "Huff! Puff!" Taking long strides, she pivoted on her foot with each l, spinning her body as a rapid pace to build up momentum until she was near enough to swing a roaring european uppercut for his chin as he rose. "Now get blown down!"

Being an older athlete who admittedly isn't exactly frolicking in the spring time of his youth, Beowulf noticed that kids these days certainly did prefer the more rambunctious, death defying style of grappling nowadays. Back when he was the humble recruit still learning the in's and out's of the business, it was all about pumping iron and showing how much bulging muscle you could put on display. That...and applying as much baby oil as you possibly could to give your muscled physique that extra shine and shimmering glow. Beowulf had a feeling if Leah lathered up her skin and went down the baby oil route, she would most definitely garner a stronger fan base...though the curves to her muscles probably wouldn't be the "curves" people would be appreciating...

But after taking a stiff dropkick to his pecs, he figured Leah was going to back to what she knew best. Which wasn't strength based grappling, and was definitely keeping matters, fast, loose, and energetic. Kids today definitely favored the more dynamic move-sets over what he was taught in his early years, but he tried not to be bitter about it at the fear of seemingly like an old fogey. Instead he coped as best he could and stuck to his guns to show these youngbloods how it was done back in his day...but he wasn't going to be doing any of that if he didn't get his bearings straight already.

The legendary wrestler shoving himself upward off of a bent knee and rising back up to a vertical stance as quickly as he could, all while a riled up audience rallied behind the plucky newcomer winding up a European uppercut that connected with the Wolf-man's scruffy chin. Beowulf teetered back with his whipped upward to look at the ceiling briefly before looking back down with a stunned look on his face. He shook his head to clear the cobwebs out, but was still standing strong. The hyped up crowd urging Leah on to see if she could fell the wolf-man once more. Leah's uppercut was strong enough to knock over a straw house, but it looked like Beowulf was built of stronger stuff...