Hardcore Handicap Match! Super Wylde Bros. vs El Fulano

Zack tried harder and harder to punch the man, but his attacks were in vain as Fulano simply dodged the strikes and picked him up for a bearhug! His waist burned in pain as he was crushed against his opponent's muscular frame, the large pecs really pressing into him. He couldn't help but shout out in pain, and looked desperately out of the ring at his brother, who was still out of it, but he was at least breathing. "Get....off of me!" Zack said as he punched the back of Fulano, but the hits seemed to do nothing to him, as he simply laughed it off. The problem with Zack was that his strikes were nowhere near as powerful as his brothers, and relied on speed and unpredictability to defeat his opponent, but right now he was right where Fulano wanted him.

The luchador then began to shake the man around violently before running forward and slamming his weakened form into the pole! Shouting out once more, Zack fell limp in the man's arms as he continued to get crushed, weakly saying "Then you're gonna have to break me in half...because I ain't giving up to a.....puto like yourself." as he then gave out a pained laugh, resting his pained body on Fulano's shoulder.

The kid had a hard head and wasn't afraid of getting hurt. He reminded Fulano of…well, himself. He watched him as he pulled away from the pole, amused by the fact that Zack had told him to just break him in half, before trying to spit out a curse in Spanish as if it were the worst thing he could think of. Fulano had been called worse things, but the fact that he always kept his cool was what kept him going. He could feel Zack resting his body on his shoulder, shaking his head for a moment. "When you can't even stay upright in a bearhug, chico, any insults you got don't really hold up very much."

A piece of Fulano felt bad for Zack. He and his brother were just looking for a nice debut match, and here Fulano stood, completely destroying him because he took the two of them off guard. But this was just who he was now -- he was a rudo, and he would make sure everyone else knew it. He dropped Zack to the mat, but he still held him upright for a moment; there was no point in letting him fall completely down, when Fulano would just have to pull him back up again. He moved to pick the boy up easily, before putting him over his shoulders in a rough torture rack, trying to stretch him out as much as he could!

Zack kept himself rested against Fulano, panting heavily as his mind raced around, trying to think of a gameplan. It seems he took too long however as the luchador lifted him up and transitioned him into a torture rack!

His well defined muscles bending harshly in the light, Zack screamed out in pain as Fulano bent him in half for the crowd. The pain on his already hurt back was multiplying as he scratched desperately at the man's fingers, who paraded him around the ring for all to see. He was running out of ideas as his back burned, until something popped in his mind, almost like a lightbulb went off.

He pulled as hard as he could to loosen the man's hold on his head, before saying "You'll.....have....to try harder then.......that!" Before clenching his teeth down as hard as he could on the man's index finger. It was no disqualifications after all, and the red Wylde twin hoped that the pain would be enough to let him wiggle out of the hold!

Fulano had no intention of letting him go before he was done. He smirked as he walked around the ring, the shifting of his body under Zack sure to make it all the worse! It sure as hell seemed like he was trying to get Zack's back broken; he wasn't relenting for a single second. He just kept holding him down, even when Zack tried to pull on his hand, just shifting it lightly in order to adjust. Which played right into Zack's plan. Zack bit down on Fulano's finger, making him howl in pain. Cursing under his breath, he gave a small snarl; that was how Zack wanted to play? Fine.

He didn't shift Zack off his shoulders; no matter how he played it, there was no way for him to do that and not end up twisting that finger somehow. No, he had a different plan. He released his other hand from the boy's leg, shifting it up -- and instead, he grabbed for his crotch and squeezed mercilessly! The initial pain would surely surprise him enough to let go of his finger, and Fulano wouldn't waste the opportunity; he would move to pick Zack off his shoulders, if his finger was released, and go for a reverse GTS, dropping him so his head slammed against his knee!

Zack bit down as hard as he could, causing Fulano to howl out in pain, something the twin couldn't help but enjoy as partial revenge for his brother. His victory was short lived however, as no matter how much he tried to budge, the man's much more muscular body prevented him from escaping. Panic signals began to go off as he struggled, but he was determined to keep the bite chomped down when suddenly the man's hand slowly snaked up from his leg up to his crotch, causing him to moan silently. Said hand however, suddenly squeezed straight down, causing Zack to howl out himself, causing him to let go of the finger!

Howling out proved to be a huge mistake however, as he was launched off the man's shoulders and barely had time to shout out when Fulano's knee connected straight to the back of his head. Much like the term "GTS" suggested, Zack blacked out before he even hit the mat. He'd awake once more in a few seconds, but as of now he was simply a ragdoll for his opponent to play with.

Had Zack even shown the slightest bit or remorse or fear for being in this situation, Fulano might have taken it easy on the boy. He just got in over his head, it wasn't a bit deal. But Zack continued to rile the luchador up, even going so far as to bite his finger. No, at this point, things were personal, and he would personally show Zack how he would deal with people who pulled that kind of shit on him. No, Fulano was going to go the distance to put Zack in his place, and it would take something less than a miracle to keep the boy from being completely and utterly ruined beyond repair.

It didn't matter that Zack blacked out for a few moments before he hit the mat. Fulano knew it, and he pounced anyway, grabbing the boy and picking him up in an instant, tossing him casually onto his shoulder, facing his front. That way, he would be able to set up for a tombstone piledriver easily. He let Zack fall down a bit, gripping him with his face just inches from his own crotch, squeezing him tight, tighter, tightest -- and jumping up, landing on his knees, and letting Zack land on his head. It was a move that made the ring shudder from the impact, that made the audience groan and wince and look away.

Fulano let Zack fall over, facing upward -- and he moved to cross his hands over his chest, as if laying him down for his funeral. Of course, this was just to make it more painful when he got up -- and jumped onto the boy, slamming his ass straight onto the hands over his chest, making it that much worse. "Give up. Or the next thing I'll do is try out each of my signatures and finishers on you, one by one."

Zack was still out of it when he slowly returned into consciousness, and he awoke to a view he didn't expect. He was upside down, with his face dangerously close to the luchador's bulging crotch. Realising the situation he was in, the Wylde twin panicked and wrapped his arms around Fulano's back to keep himself stable, which in hindsight wasn't the best idea. If his head wasn't fluttering in and out of consciousness and he wasn't having the life squeezed out of him, he would've gone for another illegal "bite" so to speak, but it was to late as his head smashed directly into the ground, making his pain's multiply immensely.

"Fu...Fuck...you....." he spluttered, barely being able to think straight as he lay still from the impact. He slowly watched as the masked man prepared his hands and lay them over his own chest, before jumping up and landing that large exterior straight onto them! Zack screamed out as it felt like his fingers had been snapped from the impact. Groaning out and staring at the man sat atop him, he tried to move his near-broken hands but found them still trapped under his opponent's muscular glutes, limiting his options of escape.

"You don't scare me..." Zack panted, before spitting at the back of his opponent! He knew he was going to pay for that, but if he was going to go out, he wasn't going to let his opponent have the satisfaction of his pleading for forgiveness.

Oh, how a piece of El Fulano was hoping that Zack wouldn't be dumb enough to keep this match going longer than it should have -- but he should have known better. A rock could take lessons on how hard-headed Zack Wylde was. So even when the man cursed at him and spat at him and told him that he wasn't scared, the masked luchador just felt…pity. How things could have been different, if only Zack had just learned how to shut up. At this rate, they were going to be risking a few broken bones for the twin, if not worse. El Fulano stood up with a small frown at him, shaking his head. "Ay, if only you had learned," he murmured to the boy, crossing himself as if he were standing over a dead man. He practically was, with the things that were still in store for the Wylde brother.

He reached down and grabbed for Zack's hair to yank him to his feet, pulling him into a front facelock. He would grab for the boy's lower half -- before he lifted up, setting the boy up for what looked like a vertical suplex. But instead, he jumped up and moved to slam Zack onto his head in his first signature, el asesino de cerebro. The slam would echo through the arena, even over the jeers of the audience.

It felt like years had passed when Fulano finally stood up from Zack. The twin looked at his fingers, they weren’t broken thank god, but the masked man’s rear had made sure to leave it’s impact as the slightest twinge in a finger would send a jolt of pain down his arms. Groaning in agony, Ethan couldn’t do much but lay his head still as the Tombstone felt like it had shattered it into a million pieces. Despite the pain he could still hear the jeers of the crowd, and Zack felt infuriated with himself. He NEEDED to keep fighting no matter how much pain the bastard had give him. He had to, for the crowd, for his brother, for himself…

His rest wasn’t long as Fulano’s heavy hands yanked up the barely conscious Zack to his feet, the twin having to rest against the man’s chest just to stay standing when suddenly his thick bicep reached around his neck and held him tight. Spluttering for breath, Zack felt Fulano grip onto his shorts tightly and before he knew it his body was completely vertical, the luchador holding him up for a few seconds in an impressive feat of strength. The fire wasn’t out in his head though, and the seemingly insane Zack tried to entice the man more, slowly saying “Hit me….with your….best sho-“ until Fulano jumped up and Zack’s last view being the upside down ring getting closer and closer until the Brainbuster connected and sent a thundering sound across the arena, the barely conscious Zack twitching on the ground, completely wiped out by the move.

Fulano was sure as hell that he would be hitting Zack with his best shot. Several of them, in fact. He smirked as he slammed the boy straight against the mat in a brainbuster, watching him twitch on the ground afterward. Honestly, he felt bad for him -- except for the fact that he was too thick-headed to know that he could end up killed as a result of Fulano's actions, considering how badly he was destroying him. He shook his head to himself for a moment, looking straight over at Zack after he stood back up once more, shaking his head to himself before he began to move once more. He knew he had some time to set things up for later -- so out of the ring he went. He reached under the canvas for a moment, grabbing hold of something and tugging it out.

A table. He pulled a table out from under the ring and set it up as if it were absolutely natural. The crowd began to boo louder, but Fulano didn't give a damn. He just wanted to set the table up now, so he would be able to use it soon. He moved back into the ring with a soft hum once that was done, moving to grab for Zack and pick him up, if he wasn't already on his feet. Once on his feet, Fulano would grab for the boy's throat and hold him up in the air, staring straight at him. "Was I not clear, maricón? Or are you just getting off to this?" he snarled, before dropping to one knee and slamming Zack over his knee in his second signature, Tirado de Dios. He didn't push Zack off quite yet though -- he moved to keep the hold clamped on, really bending Zack over his knee. One hand, however, had other ideas; it went straight for Zack's crotch, beginning to squeeze.