|Description||Hotheaded Aryx Quinn catches Muscle Mask going through his stuff, even trying on Quinn's iconic leather jacket for size. Uh oh - this is NOT going to go down well in Aryx Land! No way this is going to end without a fight! Aryx's volatile nature, short fuse and subsequent pugnacity are as legendary as his smooth, honey-hued physique. This guy will fight you for having a cheap haircut, much less for pawing his precious satiny ring gear.
Folks say Aryx wins matches mostly with his mouth, having one of the fastest minds and the biggest insult phrasebook in the business. Other folks say 90% of Aryx's victories hang on his ability to wage war on his opponent's psyche well before the first knee hits the first ball-sack. Both theories are true as far as they go, but it's also true that Aryx has a deep vein of mean to mine, and he never runs out of nasty, which he serves up in Costco-size value packs. And nothing gets Aryx's carefully selected panties in a twist like literally twisting the man's carefully selected panties.
Even outweighing Aryx by about 30 pounds, Muscle Mask is shitting in his silks as Aryx blasts him out for daring to poke around in his drawers. In a flash Aryx is pounding the bodybuilder down to his hands and knees, stripping off his prized, precious leather jacket, and choking the masked muscle hunk with it. He backs the big man to the ring post and tommy-guns the guy's abs with his bare knuckles. "Don't you ever ... ever disrespect me ... wearing my shit ... touching my shit! Nobody touches my shit! NOBODY!", Aryx explodes. Tearing the jacket away from the cowering masked man, Aryx tells him it's not made of leather. It's made from the skins of little jobbers who dared to stick their noses into Aryx Quinn's business. And, holy hell, by now we are all ready to believe him!"You're all show, and no go!" is how Aryx Quinn sums up the thick, well-carved muscle mass that Muscle Mask sports. Aryx has more go in his left nut than the Muscle Mask has in his entire posedown-ready body - according to Aryx, that is. He taunts the big lug with the charge that only for a fleeting fraction of a second did Aryx ever consider the possibility that Muscle Mask might kick his ass. He's not the least bit daunted by the size differential.
Aryx tucks a prize pair of his yellow trunks into his right boot, telling his big, blubbering opponent that they're all his to win and own... IF he's got game enough to wrest them away from him. "If you had any sense, kiddo," Aryx rails, "you never would've stepped into the BG Arena, let alone rifled through my personal property - you fuckin' pervert!!" Then he proceeds to blast away at every inch of muscle he can get his hands on. You've never seen USDA prime beef turn to milquetoast so fast. He pounds, pummels, punishes and repeatedly humiliates the muscle stud with total confidence and supreme arrogance. Aryx calls himself "110% natural nitroglycerin" for good reason!
Lithe, slippery Aryx has taken on the big boys here at BG East before, guys like Denny Cartier, Eddy Rey, Donnie Drake, Mitch Colby, and Tyrell Tomsen. Aryx doesn't always triumph, but when he leaves the ring, the other guy always knows he's been in a fight, all right. Aryx does not go down easily. So distinctive a performer is Aryx Quinn that The Boss himself, Kid Leopard, tailor-made a finishing hold expressly for him, a sexy and lethal submission hold that's reportedly impossible to escape, spelling certain doom for whoever finds himself caught in it ... 110% effective, 100% of the time!
Aryx employs several such KL invented finishers in this match, as well as improvising a few of his own invention, working over all that delicious beefy muscle on his masked opponent. While torturing Musclemask in his Quinn Lock leg hold, he strips the hunk of his boot and then covers his face with it like an oxygen mask! Like him or loathe him, there are few wrestlers as entertaining - and certainly no one as arrogant - as Aryx Quinn.
|Size||334.11 MB (350,334,703 bytes)|
|Num files||1 files|