Teuila Matautia vs. Prayuth Sakda - Hammer and Tongs

She had been watching him awkwardly flopped to the side, the blind grope for the ropes. As she moved to rise he did the same though something about to was almost comical for how cool he tried to present himself. No mirror here to shove in his face, that would have to wait for a repeat viewing of footage if he even did that. So when his first course of action was to return to smack talking her, it got one of the most incredulous looks from her that cut right through the need for words in questioning his sanity. She wasn't about to admit how much his strikes actually hurt, no way was she giving him that sort of smug satisfaction. Standing tall, she rolled her neck, buying time by looking down on him intimidatingly when she scraped up a response of her own. She wasn't a huge talker in the ring but she was getting tired of letting him run his mouth uncontested since hammering him into the dirt wasn't enough to cram it back down his throat.

"Listen…" How do you insult a successful movie star? Earlier attempts to demoralize him based on his primping looks had only managed to get it thrown back in her face, she couldn't help but think other go-tos like "Hotshot" would meet a similar fate. It left her grumbling with an awkward pause before continuing. "Don't know if I clocked you too hard and gave you brain damage or you are always this insufferable, but you are really just making this worse for yourself every time to open your mouth. Hope you know that." Sometimes there was something nice and simple about honesty. Best to not get bigger down with a conversation though, it only have him time to recover. She would be fine as long as she kept moving, it wasn't like he had almost collapsed her ribs with one of his knees or anything… she snickered to herself.

The cautious approach wasn't as much in play here as she already got a taste of being able to rush him down. Less hesitation and more drive, she could weather a blow or two if it meant getting close. It was time to do some work, some real work, and show this self entitled prick what it was to step into a ring with someone like her. Arms up, eyes in narrow focus looking for if an opportunity presented itself in the way of any kicks being thrown her way. She was practically daring him to try, eager to test her luck in trying to catch one of those sharp strikes. Teuila moves into a similar tune to before, shifting herself from one side or the other, trying to keep Prayuth up against the ropes and defensive as the distance dwindled. Just as she neared, she took a sudden feigning step in, trying to bait something out by making it look like she was charging again only to wait back, seeing if anything came out worth responding to.

Prayuth was legit surprised when Teuila actually spoke back, and with full sentences, no less. She’d been coming at him more or less nonstop since they kicked things off, and she seemed fairly set on being this unstoppable, immovable wall of Hawaiin muscle and malice, it was a little weird to suddenly have her get chatty. Not that he was complaining - every second she spent talking was one where he could recover, so he cherished them, even as she threw a little shade his way. He got the impression she was in a similar boat, even if she was doing an Emmy Award Winning job of hiding it.

”Yeah, that claim’s a little sus, pretty sure you’ll try to ragdoll me regardless at this point.” He straightened up and rolled his shoulders, getting off some of the pain from that crash. ”I get that you’ve got this whole Samoan Terminator thing going on, but you could lighten up. Just a smidge. Won’t kill you.”

Somehow he doubted she would take his suggestion to heart, but there it was, all the same. She wasted little time after that, coming his way, edging closer with each slow step, advancing on him with glacial speed and force. It made for an intimidating sight, but he understood the thinking behind it. Playing it safe, trying to get him to make the first move. He hardened his own stance and stepped forward, eyes focused, ready to meet her.

Wait, wait, wait…

She jerked forward and he reacted, taking a quick step forward and shooting his knee up fast to hit her stomach with a knee bomb - or, rather, where her stomach would’ve been if she hadn't been doing a feint. Instead, he came down right in front of her and drew his arms in close, prepping for whatever she’d try to fill the gap with.

Teuila couldn't help but roll her eyes. He was right of course, she really did want to lay his ass out on the canvas the first chance she could, but what he failed to understand was there were some ways more destructive than others. The first though she thought about now was his grin from earlier and how pristine his teeth had been. Surely he had better dental than what AFW was offering, he was a movie star after all. It got a small snicker out of her, amused by her own thoughts before Prayuth's comment dragged her out of that happy place and back into this moment. Her brow furrowed at his words, did he not understand they were fighting? It was business in the ring. She was plenty lighthearted and fun on her own time… sometimes… okay maybe she was a bit stiff but screw him for assuming he knew what she was like outside the ring. All he got in return was a soft incredulous snort.

He could have stood to take this more seriously, if not for his own prospects then out of respect for professional wrestling. He was an outsider to the craft, coming in with all this starpower and gaggles of fans, cracking jokes and treating it all like some sort of sideshow. This may have been a pitstop for him between movies, but this was her life, a legacy passed onto her with lofty expectations she was here to not only meet, but shatter. So when she dipped in and out and caught him biting at her baited advance, her darkened features hinted at the onslaught of pain she was looking to unleash.

The Samoan slugger came barreling in with a sharp haymaker, looking to rattle the playboy pugilist with a hard shot, wanting him hazy for the meat of her attack. If she landed the punch squarely, her hands shot out to scoop Prayuth up off the mat, hefting his considerable weight up and over her head with a palm on her shoulder and thigh to hand him aloft with a gorilla press. Careful breathing, straining muscle as she locked her arms and staggered her feet to account for the shift in his bulk.

With a roar she gave his body a rough twist, dropping him down onto a shoulder, head forward and legs draped off her back. Clutched close she surged forward to the corner to smash his upper body between the turnbuckle and her own weight to pin him in. With a harsh pivot she drag him hard enough across the ropes to make his skin burn, charging out of the corner to the middle of the ring. Diving the last step she whipped his body down towards the mat, trying to send him down like a meteor with her weight following on top of him shortly after with her signature War Dance. With a firearm pressed to a shoulder and an arm hooking a leg, Teuila would compact the movie star up in a tight ball, going for pinfall off the power move.

A snort.

She snorted at him

Who snorted at people, really? He’d seen people snort, even did it himself, but this was the first time anyone snorted at him. More than a little rude. ”I’m just floored by your charm. Jesus.”

This all shouldn’t have been bugging him so much, he knew it, but couldn't help the response all the same. He’d fought some hardasses before, but he was usually able to get in their heads enough and put them on the floor. Teuila was just not biting, and since the woman had the strength to yeet him clear across the ring, that was going to be a problem. A big fucking problem.

His blow would’ve gone a long way to evening things up if it landed, but it didn’t. Instead, he whiffed it and found himself getting coldcocked, right in the face. A stiff shot, but nothing that Prayuth couldn't recover from with good time. Teuila had the good sense to not give that to him. Instead, she moved in, scooped him up, and...well, things were a blur from there.

Prayuth recalled her lifting him like she was in some kind of weightlifting competition, then bringing him down hard on his shoulders, folding him clean in half. From there, she charged forward like a raging bull and rammed him into the corner. If he hadn’t already been breathless from the drop, that would’ve ensured it, the blow crushing his ribs. Oh, and then she had to cap it off by dragging him along the ropes, which was 100% unnecessary and a total dick move on her part that he would be getting her back for. And she ended it all by slamming him in the middle of the ring like a sack of potatoes, pulling him up for the pin right after.

The crowd was impressed, claps and cheering all around. Prayuth was notably less pleased.

”1…!”

Prayuth grunted at the referee’s call, still reeling from the slam, too winded to move just yet. She’d tagged him good with that one, and he didn’t want to think about what would be the followup. He’d taken all kinds of bumps in his career, did his own stunts, but she was taking a toll on him.

”2…!”

He kicked out as the referee was raising her hand, shoot his leg up and flopping over to his side. It was about all he could manage for now, though. Well, that and a quick taunt. ”Showoff.”

Holding Prayuth up in the air had gotten the crowd to come alive again. Those who knew her either from her time on the independent scene or were intimately more familiar with her break out came from viral videos and feats of strength were quick to start the growing roar of cheers. Each step of her savage reign of running roughshod over her male adversary caused and explosion of cheers as each act of carnage seemed to ignite them all over again until it all ended with a thunderous slam in the middle of the ring. Along with the referee, the audience changed alone, making sure Prayuth was well aware of his fleeting chances of victory at each slap of the mat. There was more than brute force behind her performance, a finesse to manhandling someone of Prayuth's build and weight. The technique even behind the tight pin was likely lost on a layperson but felt fully to the struggling man crushed beneath her.

If it had ended here, she would have been fine, but the movie star clung to life like a cockroach, bucking just enough to roll a shoulder up underneath her. It would have been a meritorious feat if not for his need to quip. Even now… seriously? She glared down at him incredulously, shoving off his body to get to a knee. Her hands clamped down on his shoulder and the other hooked behind his neck, roughly wresting him from the mat to drag his body up to his feet… or as far up as she needed to attempt to shove his fat ego inflated head under her arm.

She wasted no time, carrying the brunt of his battered body as she dipped her head to throw one of his arms up over her shoulder. Grabbing hold of the lip of his trunks she gave them a hard yank, making sure they were snug and secure while she shifted her feet for a good foundation. With a grunt, she attempted to lift him up off the mat and hold him vertically, balancing his weight across her shoulders as she held him aloft. Phones came out, pictures and flashes as she strained with sweat dotting her brow to maintain him in the air but when the burden had become too much of sway too dangerous she whipped them back to the mat to end the delayed vertical suplex.

Lumbering, she rose to a knee, dragging the back of her hand across her forehead to clear the trickle of moisture from running down into her eyes. Stepping up to her feet, she took a deep breath and stepped a foot on Prayuth's chest, leaning her weight down to attempt yet another link, though this one was as refined as it was respectful, which was to say, not at all.

Prayuth was pissed off.

It wasn’t because of the way she handled things, though that irked him. Prayuth was no expert, but he felt he was getting a good feel for the way these wrestling matches worked. The ebb and flow to them, the in and outs. It was combat, but it was a little like a dance, too. Certain moves were supposed to come after certain moves. These actions flowed into other actions. Everything had an answer to it, a rhythm to the match, and they fought within that framework. It was strange, far different from the free-for-alls he’d come from, but he was growing accustomed to it.

So, after he kicked out and escaped the hold, he thought for sure, that Teuila would give him a rest, if only for a few moments. That seemed like the natural thing to do after a pin attempt. Back up, regroup, plan your next lane of attack. Nope, Teuilia just hefted him and got him in position for her next attack. No brakes on this woman. He could almost respect that if it wasn’t so freaky.

He wasn’t mad about the slam, though, not even when used him as a way to show off, keeping him vertical far longer than was necessary. Prayuth wasn’t a heavy man, but he was far from light, either - last he checked, he was well over 150 pounds, and that was all solid weight. The blood rushed to his head, he was getting woozy, and that made the inevitable plunge even worse. Down he went, crashing into the canvas once more, ruining whatever recovery he had planned.

He could take all that in stride. Came with the match, whatever. But his opinion on matters took a drastic turn when he felt a weight on his chest, and looked up to see her foot planted there. ”What are you-”

”1…!”

Prayuth jumped, surprised by the referee’s count, and it took him all of half a second to process what was going on: She was pinning him with her foot. He’d never seen that done in wrestling before, but he recognized the significance of it. The ultimate insult, a sign of complete victory, total humiliation. In other words, the worst thing that could happen to his career, ever, if he lost to it.


Nope. Not happening.

Prayuth shoved the foot off just as the referee was an inch away from the second count, breaking free. While he was still hurting too much to get up and mount a full defense, he decided to give Teuila a parting gift on top of it all, too - he pulled her ankle under his shoulder, tucked it there, and threw his leg up high, aiming his knee at the side of her leg.

Teuila was putting in more mental work than anyone realized. It wasn't her ring work though, that came with experience and muscle memory. It was getting over Prayuth Skada. She had talked a big game to her brothers but the separation was hard when you were face to face with someone who played an action hero. While not a diehard fan of the Red Castle movies, she did enjoy them. It was at the level where if she ever stumbled upon clips of the fight scenes when browsing the internet it tended to lead her down a rabbit home of watching most of them or at the very least, hit compilations. And now she was tasked with putting the star down. She wasn't nervous about the crowd. She had accepted a long time ago anything she did in this business would have eyes on her, judging. It was about making sure she did things right and didn't go easy.

His displayed lethality with those strikes early on made it easier to overlook his fame and reputation but anytime she started taking control something in her mind kept trying to hold her back trying to justify she should go lighter on him because he wasn't a wrestler. It was some sort of sentimental bullshit she was so done with even before she had realized it was there. This had been the big striding breakthrough, cutting loose to try and grind him into dust before it surfaced again to dull her judgement. All he had to do was stay down and it was over. An easy out for the movie dandy.

Staring down her nose at him, her weight pressed down through her boot, compressing his chest. Her features soured at his words, taking his question inquiring of what she was doing to be the face value of him asking what she was… was that an insult, acting like she was some sort of freak. When he rebuffed her "gracious" escape from the match by shoving her leg away she wobbled briefly before finding her balance. It was fine though, eager to get him up again to make him pay for the falsely perceived insult.. Leaning forward she reached out for his head, not even registering his grasping at her leg as being anything more than the dying throes of his victory.

The knee caught her by surprise, letting out one of the most human yelps of pain she had uddered all match. Her leg buckled, dropping her down roughly to a knee before him. A hand braced itself on the canvas to hold her steady while the other was up in a blind defense, a bit confused by what he had just done to get her down here. No… it made no sense to hold back now and go on the defense. Second-guessing her but she broke her guard to swing her hand up into the air, ending it down at his midsection to try and club any remaining vestiges of air from his body with all the grace of a rampaging gorilla.

Prayuth was trying to keep things cool. Respectable. His whole life, he’d built up the image of an action star, a guy who didn’t cave to anger and let his emotions get the better of him. When Rama - the young, inexperience, but skilled new cop on the force - was trapped on the top floor of Thailand’s most notorious gang hideout, he didn’t bitch or whine, he came up with a plan and proceeded to fight his way down fifty flights, taking Bangkok’s seedy underground on and resulting in a twenty minute oner scene that earned him the National Film Award for Best Choreography.

Never not proud of that one, good memories.

But his manufactured cool had limits, and they were reaching them with that little stunt that Teuila pulled. It was already past obvious that he needed to take her serious, but now he was on a mission - win or lose, he was evening the score.

The first step towards that was getting back on his feet. Muy Thai wasn’t exactly a style that revolved around grounded combat, and she had far more skill with it than he could ever hope to achieve. As winded as he was from being wrecked around the ring, he needed to rise.

Teiula seemed to see his need, too, because her next move was reach over and try to club him with that sledgehammer arm of hers. He brought his arms up and crossed them low, just in time to block the blow - it still knocked the wind out of him, god she was strong, but it was a huge improvement. He’d need more than, though, had to do better than just surviving. He needed offense, and on that, he had an idea.

Instead of letting her arm retract, Prayuth tried to wrap his hands around the wrist, keeping her close and pulling her in. At the same time, he scooted back, brought his legs up, and tried to catch them around her head and shoulder - a triangle choke. He’d never done this move in an actual fight before, but he had done it for a fight scene a few years ago, and he knew the mechanics. His legs were strong enough to make it work, in theory, and today was as good a time as any to give it a shot.

Teuila was a technical wrestler in the broadest of senses. She knew her way around matwork, her DNA was practically infused with every aspect of the sport from growing up. It wasn't something that was expressly taught but learned at the hands of having older and stronger brothers, at the time. There was a time for these things, a bit of finesse on the canvas, but this wasn't what anyone could really call a real wrestling match. Her opponent wasn't here for suplexes and pinfalls, he was here to kick her head off her shoulders and she wasn't going to prance about and give him the chance. A show of force was the right call and she wasn't about to let up until they were scraping Prayuth pudding off the mat after she was done hammering him into a fine paste. She had given him his chance to bow out, even if it had been embarrassingly she wasn't one to offer olive branches lightly.

The hard contact of bone didn't deter her, so used was she to bashing her way through raised guards like a SWAT team raids through a door. It was only a matter of time until she would make her way inside to finish the deed. When she went to draw her arm back for another slam, her opponent had already grabbed hold of her. She let out a low growl while drawing back, annoyed to find him not only gripping her but trying to draw her down. Planting a hand on the canvas she held strong, fighting his attempt to reel her closer. Even so, it gave him room to maneuver and an unmoving target to kick his leg up, locking them around her. With the added power of arguably Prayuth's most valuable assets, his movie making face notwithstanding, it was impossible to not finally be wrestled down into the choke with only one arm to support herself.

Just like that Prayuth had turned the match on its head. It didn't matter how strong Teuila was or how dominant she had appeared in the match. He had set a timing and if she couldn't respond, it was nighty night. Her face would be plastered up on social media with his blowhard posing over her like some prized fish he'd caught on a day on the beach. If she could have uddered anything past a primal grunt it would have been a swear, possibly several at how foolish she felt suddenly after dropping her guard to end up like this… though dwelling on her initial thoughts, maybe it did matter how strong she was. She'd only have one shot at this though.

Crouched forward in the hold, she leaned herself back as much as she could muster, giving herself enough room to slip from her knees up onto the balls of her feet. It was shaky, difficult to manage with not only Prayuth's weight dragging her down but the sudden onset of lightheaded dizziness brought on from her oxygen deprived mind. With one final surge of strength, she shoved off the mat with her free hand, attempting to lift her opponent up off the mat with one arm and his own hold, trying to reach her full height before unceremoniously throwing the both of them back down to the mat as hard as she could muster in a sloppy, makeshift powerbomb.

This was good. Refreshing. New. Despite the fact that Prayuth had spent the majority of the last few minutes being ragdolled from pillar to post, a smile was forming on the corners of his lips, and not just the cocky one he was trying to piss Teuila off with. As much as he loved his career and wouldn’t trade it for the world, a part of him missed the streets. The rings. The real fights. Even the AFW matches he’d had so far were a far cry from the brawls in Bangkok. That was how he made his bones, and a fight like this was about as close as he was getting to having another taste.

Yeah, his back was up against the wall. Yeah, she had the strength to hammer him into the mat like a railroad spike. But that was just the spice that made the whole deal that much sweeter. He just had to hold on, survive, wait for the right moment and…

Here they were. ”Got you.”

Submissions weren’t Prayuth’s thing, but that didn’t mean his body couldn’t pull them off. He had the leg strength for a good triangle hold, and he proved that in action, snapping on the move and drawing her in tight. His legs were hard as cast iron, and each flex made them cut into her skull, a noose that was growing tighter with each passing second. Just a little longer, a few seconds. In half a minute, tops, the match would be all his. Nothing left to do but wait.

That, and twist the knife a little. ”That’s right, big girl, just doze off. This’ll be way better than me kicking in your face all day, trust me. After this, I’ll do a quick pose for Insta, and then...uh…”

...was she trying to lift him up.

...oh, no, she wasn’t trying to lift him up. She was actually doing it.

Prayuth looked on, wide eyed and flabbergasted, as Teuila defied gravity and physical limitations all at once, hoisting her up, higher and higher, in a stunning display of strength. So stunning, in fact, that it didn’t occur to him what she was about to do. Not until it was too late.

He opened his mouth for a curse, but never had the chance to put all the words together before he was brought down, fast and hard, crashing into the mat with a resounding impact. He let go of the hold on pure reflex and flopped off, rolling once before he ended up on his back. Hurting, aching, cursing, he laid there for a moment and writhed as he tried to process the pain.