|Description||Don't keep Tyrell Tomsen waiting. The man's temper has a hair trigger, and it doesn't help that someone tipped him off that Z-Man likes to play head games with his opponent right before a match. Tyrell's been pounding on the bathroom door for close to ten minutes, without a peep from the man with whom he's scheduled to wrestle. Z-Man can't tear himself away from the mirror to give the man the courtesy of a hello. When at last Zack flings open the door, all pearly innocent smiles, Tomsen hurls him into the shower stall and stands on the pretty Florida boy's abs while he flexes his big, hard guns for the camera, barking, "THIS is pretty!" And who can argue with that? Tomsen is, in fact, well past "pretty" and is a top favorite for "audaciously beautiful." But Tyrell didn't interrupt his vacation and haul his ass across three states just for a beauty contest. The man is ready to fight, and The Boss promised him some juicy red meat this time.
Tomsen drags Z-Man to a bench by a hank of his hundred-dollar haircut and locks him into a headscissors. Z gives grimace second to none - and fans never tire of seeing the A-list fitness model cut down to size. And as the big black warrior's brawny thighs crush his head, you half expect to hear the pop of Z's brain cells like bubblewrap. Before that happens, the pretty boy concedes, showing that he still has a few neurons flashing brightly enough for self-preservation. But we're just getting started. Tyrell grabs more hair and walks his opponent to the ring, threatening a major rearrangement of Z's elegantly symmetrical face. He bangs the dude's head into a steel locker before squeezing him into another scissors, this time giving Zack an up-close and personal view of his huge bulge, barely concealed in bright yellow briefs. How's that for head games, Z-Man?
Z-Man submits twice before he has even stepped into the ring. Tyrell backs him up to the locker and thoroughly pummels the guy's abs. They are pretty to look at, sure, but Tyrell wants to hop on these bad boys and give them a road test. The chassis holds up beautifully, all the more beautiful for being put through hell, but it's hard to gauge what's left of the Z-Man's force, acceleration, and torque after Tomsen slams him one more time - and HARD - and then slings him like a wet chamois into the squared circle. Tyrell takes a breather at the mirror, soaking in the hard lines of his physique model muscle. "I don't like being like this," he explains rationally, never losing eye contact with his reflection, "but you can't look better than me." So like many a man before him, Tomsen unwisely opts for some "me time" before finishing his opponent. Behind him, Z-Man grabs the ropes and pulls himself up, a look of murder in his eyes. Tomsen has pushed this pretty boy to the edge and forgot that behind those porcelain-smooth features is the brain of shark, proud and elegantly lethal. Tyrell's cheap shots may be coming back to bite him in the ass!Tyrell finds himself face to face with a revived and infuriated Z-Man. Z guillotines the muscle god on the top rope, and the steely-built heel crumples to the hard floor outside the ring. Z-Man deftly slips through the ropes and snaps Tomsen into a full nelson, shoving him face-first to the mirror. Z is running on pure pissed-off-ness at this point. He releases Tyrell, spins him around, and shoots a round of well-aimed jabs to the man's midsection. But Tyrell is still fresh, having not yet broken a first sweat, having not yet taken a tenth of the punishment that Z has endured. And Tyrell is ready to take this game to the next level. He grabs Z-Man by the balls. Z howls like a nipped dog. Tyrell lifts the man up in his sinewy arms and smashes the small of his back to the ring post ... twice ... before slinging him back into the ring. While Z-Man clutches his groin and lower back, whimpering, Tomsen stands on the ring apron and pivots back towards the mirror, cooing, "Oooo, look who's pretty now! ... I'm even pretty when I'm upset." Especially pretty, we think.
Tomsen climbs into the ring after Z, grabs him by the hair then slugs him back down to the mat. Then hung up on the middle rope like laundry, Z feels the agony that a 185 pounds of solid muscle can heap upon an unprotected back. Tyrell taunts him for being a whiner, mocking his cries, riding his lats like a cowboy, and slapping his ass! When Tyrell finally backs off, Z-Man crawls to the corner, his whole body trembling, until he's back up on his feet. Tyrell hunches into position for a three-point tackle. The big heel lunges, but Z twists out of the way and Tomsen brains himself against the turnbuckle.
But Z-Man continues to take more than he's able to return. The closing minutes deliver rack and ruin by the cartloads. Fans will find it hard to think of a better example of a pampered frat boy getting his ass royally trounced after flipping off the wrong big brawny bruiser. A few matches ago, Tomsen turned heel, spectacularly, when longhair Bobby Horton first triggered the man's drive to squash something young and pretty and easy to bruise. And in his four previous matches at BG East, Z-Man has shown that chips don't get any bigger than the one he carries on his shoulder - and faces and bodies don't get much prettier. This is irresistible, savage entertainment that we think you're going to watch from beginning to end two or three times in a row. Brace yourselves, boys, it's gonna get rough!
|Size||454.11 MB (476,168,538 bytes)|
|Num files||1 files|