|Description||About five years ago a war was brewing. It was not a war over geographic boundaries, religion, human rights, or energy resources. It was not one of the ordinary wars we see repeated in history from ancient times to the present. This war was BG East's personal concoction. Alexander, Caesar, Genghis Khan, Washington, Churchill, and W had had their wars, so The Boss decided he needed a war of his own. It would be a war over bragging rights and nothing more, fought on North American soil between Canada and the USA. It would be a war by, for, and about wrestlers - over which of the two nations has the baddest asses and the toughest heroes, about which nation's grapplers can wear the skimpiest gear, and about which wrestlers, in a clinch, can rally themselves from almost certain defeat and rip their opponents to shreds in one climactic, rousing show of one-upmanship. Each nation would send its champions to fight the other side's champions one on one. And the battlefield would be a whitewashed gazebo surrounded by picturesque shrubs, fresh mown summer grass on the shore's edge of a cool, inviting lake.
Cameron leads the charge for the American forces. In a blue and white singlet, stripped down to his waist, he approaches the gazebo, Paul Hudson at his back massaging his broad shoulders, while his Canadian foe TJ testily waits in a maple-leaf-red singlet. "Ready to get your ass kicked?" Matthews leers with customary self-assurance, offering his right hand in a gentlemanly show of good sportsmanship. Hudson backs off, confident that his man can control the situation. Unable to restrain himself, the Canadian drives his fist to Cam's stomach. So it's on. Just like that. The two opposing patriots seize each other, leaping right into full-tilt brawl mode, forgoing the customary exchanges of bravado, forgoing the pose-off, foregoing the quiet intent circling of competitors. TJ brings Cam to his knees, slamming the Yank's forehead repeatedly to the mat. Ouch!
So begins one of the hottest, steamiest bouts in the history of the Gazebo Grapplers. International politics aside, this is a face-off we have all been itching for, for some time. Since his debut against Christian Taylor, TJ has shown sadistic heel potential, taunting his opponent, enjoying the shudder of pain vibrating through his adversary's body as he clamps the man between his sinewy legs. For TJ, it's all about arousal and domination, and the darkly handsome grappler sees no difference in the two. He wants to hurt and humiliate the cocky American. He wants to see just how far the boyish, buff punk can be stretched before he breaks. But TJ is not the first guy fooled by Cameron's dewy youth and fresh, scrubbed wholesomeness, that perpetual rookie look of being easy to take, and if TJ thinks this is going to be a quick win and a fast trot back to the Great White North, he's got another think coming. (Warning: Gear and SOCK fans beware of palpitations!)
It's hard not to smile when Cameron turns the tables on TJ. All taunts and crooked smirks, TJ is the height of arrogance, and clearly, to judge from the rock hard lump in his singlet, enjoying his mastery over the young American. Cameron rolls him over and jabs his knee repeatedly to the Canadian's abs, in a clean, textbook reversal, fortified with a dose of old-fashioned two-fisted justice. Mathews breaks free of TJ, snatches one of his socks, and proceeds to use it like a horse's bit, effectively shutting up the Canadian. That white sock trades hands several times in the ensuing fight, sometimes used as a makeshift boxing glove, sometimes as a gag, sometimes as a noose. Ultimately, the men must use whatever is at their disposal in a battle of ever-escalating viciousness.
Cameron calls TJ's methods "cowardly." Undeniably, TJ is not above kicking a man while he's down. He takes full advantage of every weakness - and he doesn't slow down when Matthews yells foul or even after he gives. It's equally clear that TJ takes malicious delight in tormenting the apple-cheeked babyface. The sound of Cameron's agonized cries excites him. When TJ peels off Cam's singlet, revealing a skimpy red-white-and-blue bikini underneath, he mocks the American's gung-ho patriotism. When Cameron resorts to his ring-wrestler instincts and reaches for the gazebo's whitewashed railing, TJ thinks it's funny to show him that the wooden rails are not as forgiving on his nuts as ring ropes!
Several times in the match, when all appears lost, Cameron's gaze wanders out past the railing, as if expecting the US Cavalry to ride in to the rescue. With great determination, he tries to fight clean, but TJ's relentless hectoring is daunting. Matthews wants to win solely on the weight of his wrestling know-how and training. When pushed to his limits, however, he loses control and lashes back at TJ, landing a few blows the Canadian will feel for months to come. But Cameron fails to follow up with the kind of assault that would ensure the man won't get back up. It's a courtesy TJ does not repay, and yet, ultimately, it is TJ's vicious sadism that is his undoing, triggering a surprising surge of rage that will almost certainly leave viewers slack-jawed - and, perhaps, jumping to their feet cheering for the brutal yet thoroughly satisfying (because so thoroughly well-deserved) payback climax!
|Size||412.80 MB (432,850,266 bytes)|
|Num files||1 files|