Tension Elimination Chamber Match

Ryo and Felina followed each other up, matching kick for kick to either side of this massive bowlcut monster named Dasher, each kicking making a hard "SMACK" noise of boots meeting flesh, and a pained grunt from the terrifying man on his knee.

After a fun and protracted game of "who can kick harder", which left Ryo's leg damn near numb, a tenth and final kick, coming from both fighters at the same time, finally sent Dasher down onto the mat, much to the cheers of the crowd. Quickly, despite the stiffness starting in his leg, he dove down on top of the much larger warrior, motioning for Felina to join him. "CMON! Pin him now! We gotta put this freak away!"

Kicking Dasher in the face was surprisingly cathartic, Felina had to admit. Something about the way his head bobbed back and forth, and the look in his eyes, and how it made his silly haircut fly about. Oh, and the fact that she was busting up a guy who didn't think she even deserved to be in the same ring? Nice and karmic. She could’ve done it all day.

But she had a match to win, and doing that would, bare minimum, require her to get this lug out of the ring. After his shoulders hit the mat, Ryo had a good idea for keeping him there, and she gladly went along with it, jumping on his back to add her weight to the pile.

The referee came in for the count, slapping the mat hard with each strike. ”1…!”

The chauvinistic bowl-cut bruiser wavered left and right like a lumbering giant with every concussive strike to his prodigious jaw, his detractors counting along with each wallop and Dasher being the clear loser no matter who was determined to have the fiercer kick between Ryo and Felina. The flickering sparkle of hope for the pair to actually score the upset of the year by eliminating the legendary puroresu grappler suddenly became a spiraling inferno once the mighty Dasher had fallen...prompting both of the desperate strikers to dog-pile on the Dash. It was a comical sight that was nevertheless an effective strategy. Clearly no man having the thick-skulled endurance to withstand such a ferocious barrage of kicks and still be capable of unearthing himself from beneath close to three hundred pounds of centered weight all aimed at keeping him pinned down...

"One!"

"Two!"

"Th-OORIYAH!!!!"

..except Dasher was no mere man. The bowl-cut enthusiast flexing every muscled fiber in his jacked body towards thrusting both the competitors upward and above him, pitching the pairing duo a clear three feet away in a feat of strength that had left even the chatty announcers gobsmacked!!! As if awakening a long since dormant beast from his slumber, Dasher lethargically rolled over and punched his fist into the canvas as he began rumbling back up to his hands and knees...

"...Oh fuck..."

"Ahh!" Ryo yelped, he and Felina's pinfall attempt not only failing to eliminate Dasher, but sending the two of them flying as well, the handsome heart throb landing a few feet away.

Groaning, he got up to his feet...and saw Dasher starting to do the same. "...Well that's not good..." Still in good condition, he looked around, finding Felina and getting up to his feet. "Hey uh...Felina...you're good right? Please be good...I really don't wanna fight this guy by myself..."

It was a silly sight, Felina was sure of that, and she couldn’t have cared less. A grown man and a woman piling on Dasher like they were his kids in a playfight, desperately trying to keep the bowlcut bruiser down. When they were making a highlight reel of her best moments, it was a safe bet they’d skip over this part.

Fine. She was more interested in them getting the part where she was one the first ever Tension Elimination Chamber and then becoming the Tension Champ. She could suffer a few chuckles for that.

She and Ryo had this, all they had to do was keep his shoulders to the mat for three seconds, and then-

It was like an explosion. A big, sweaty, muscled explosion that sent Ryo and Felina spiraling away. Dasher burst out from beneath with strength that bordered on inhuman. Felina went rolling off, twice, before she sprung to her feet and faced their rising foe.

Her temporary partner said something, but Felina didn’t hear it. She was too busy rushing forward, dipping low, and throwing her body out in a desperate shoulder tackle, attempting to put Dasher on his back once again.

It would work. It had to work.

Dasher's head swirled after having his bowl-cut haired noggin become the fuzzy green ball in the tennis match between the duel strikers. His senses and motor functions noticeably dulled as he stirred beneath the opportunistic pairing seeing this to be their absolute best chance at eliminating the muscled meathead. Which said a lot considering that even than, after having smacked his head about left and right, that Dasher still managed to unearth himself with a guttural yell and summoned the strength to dash their hopes for pulling off the upset elimination...

The Dash squinted his beady eyes and scrunched his face after propping himself up on one knee, all to help solidify his distorted vision. He was breathing heavily as sweat droplets dripped from his forehead to the canvas below, the grappler only just than perking his head up to spy the Rodriguez girl barreling towards him. But instead of a debilitated Dasher hobbled and on one knee awaiting her, she would see pure muscle come careening towards her as Dasher vaulted up from his knee with a cocked back Lariat clothesline to welcome her.

"Ok, we need a pla-what are you, NOnonono!"

Ryo, by his own admission, wasn't the best tactician in wrestling. His partner, Ed, he was the smart one in the relationship, far more intelligent and far better than tactics, where as Ryo mostly went of instinct...and often the answer to his problems was "put a cock in it".

But even he could respect the seriousness of this situation. Dasher was one of the strongest, craziest, and most dangerous men in the league for good reason, and he had already pissed the guy off. This wasn't a situation he could get through with just his charm, winning smile, and a thin speedo. No, Felina and him, if they continued their haphazard partnership, and came up with a viable plan, then maybe, MAYBE, they could find a way to take Dasher down...

...Or, Felina could charge in like an idiot, without any sort of plan other than "Punch his face"...not a good plan. Ryo winced as Dasher's lariat connected, seeing his temporary partner dropped fast.

"Fuckfuckfuck....damnit!"

He cursed, any chance of strategy gone, and leaving him no option, not if he didn't want to face the big troll alone. He charged in, leaping high as he got near Dasher and kicking his booted feet out, trying to dropkick Dasher right in the chest!

In Felina’s defense, it did seem like a good idea. On paper. To her, anyway.

Dasher was rising up, fast, getting his bearings back. Despite the kickout, they’d done an admirable job of keeping the bowlcut bruiser off his game. He was staggering, he was hurt, he was not in the best shape, and every second spent not attacking him was a second for him to recover. That was the exact last thing she wanted, so...attack, attack, attack. How could it go wrong.

A lariat. A lariat was how it could go wrong.

It came in hard and fast and devastating, crashing into her face like a tidal wave. One moment she was standing, the next she was upside down, and the next she was crashing down on her back, staring up at the ceiling and trying to remember what her name was.

After a couple of seconds she blinked and tried to sit up...and failed, only to fall down a second later. Not doing well. Hoped Ryo was doing better. Sincerely doubted it

Barreling towards the opportunistic Rodriquez lady like a bowl-cutted bat out of hell, Dasher once again baffled the world by being remarkably swift-footed for someone of his immense size, strength, and rigidly proportioned muscle mass. The puroresu grappler not obtaining his wrestling name by having led in his shoes. And Felina paid for underestimating the dashing chauvinist via a cocked back lariat clothesline that she may have nightmares about in the future.

"...*pant*...ngh..." Dasher stopped himself a step or two after the clothesline from hell, than standing upright and breathing heavily with a cringing grimace as he massaged the temple of his battered cranium. But even through his flinching eyes, he caught a glimpse of the spirited speedo heartthrob valiantly running towards the bowl-cutted beast in the hopes of once again coming to the heroic aid of the downtrodden latina with a thrusting dropkick~...

...which Dasher would avoid by side-stepping, and having Ryo fall comedically short right beside the Dash with a disappointing thud. Dasher's beady eyes honing in on the fallen hero with a snarl before he would leap high into the air, and come careening down atop him with a simple but painfully squashing elbow drop.

...He blamed Felina for this.



Despite knowing just how foolish and potentially futile this was, Ryo still charged in and attempted his dropkick. He didn't have a choice really, Dasher was the biggest threat, and the odds of him defeating Dasher by himself were slim. He needed Felina, and in this case, that meant saving the woman.



...Or rather, it meant hitting nothing but air and falling like a prat back onto the mat because Dasher saw him coming and...casually sidestepped him, leading to the comical prat fall. Before Ryo could get up however, or even curse Dasher, darkness fell over him, the teen realizing Dashers shadow loomed over him, and, after glancing up, saw the mans massive elbow coming down towards him.



"...Meep..." He said meekly, before Dasher's elbow landed squarely in the center of his chest, leading a flailing of his limbs as recoil from the hit, his hands going to soothe his chest as he began gasping, the wind knocked out of him from the heavy impact, kicking at the mat!