Tango

TANGO

 by Crusher

Tango had been in the United States for several weeks. He came up from Argentina to do some research for his job. He always like to keep himself in good shape, so one of the first things that he did was to find a gym where he could work out. Since he was staying in a large metropolitan area this was not difficult. He discovered a gym that was only two blocks from his hotel. Because it was convenient to his location, he decided that he would use this facility to serve his needs. It didn’t take long for Tango to realize that the membership of this gym was made of mostly men who were wrestlers. Some of them just wrestled for fun and some of the guys were professional wrestlers who liked using this gym to stay in shape in between gigs.



Tango watched these guys in the ring and he just shook his head. He thought to himself, ‘These guys are just a bunch of wanna-be types. They are not for real. I could beat any one of them. They are not real men.” Another thing that Tango found to be offensive about a lot of the guys was the fact that many of them only wore Speedos or trunks when they worked out. He figured that they must all be faggots or something.

The more that he watched these wrestlers, the more he wanted to get into the ring and beat the hell out of them. He figured that it would be a piece of cake. So that is when he decided that he was going to prove to everyone that a real man from Argentina could destroy any of these American Wimps. He issued a challenge. “I want your champion in the ring. I will take his title from him and beat him into the mats!”

That is when Steve spoke up, “Have you got any wrestling experience buddy?”

Tango replied, “I know enough. I can handle myself against any of these guys. I want to take the champ’s title from him, then take it back to Argentina with me.” Steve chuckled to himself. He has seen this kind of loud-mouth asshole many times before. And they have all been put in their places and sent on their way. So, he figured, why should this Tango guy be any different. He would hook him up with one of the wrestlers and let them beat the shit out of him and send him running away with his tail between his legs.

Steve replied, “Well Tango, it is too bad for you that champ is out of town. He is wrestling out on the West Coast for the next month. He won’t be around for a while. But I suppose that I could find another wrestler that would be more than happy to beat that cockiness out of you.”

Tango snapped back at him, “I only want to fight a champion. I want to take a title belt away from one of your hot-shot American champions. I won’t waste my time on some nobody that doesn’t even matter. I demand a title match with someone!”

Steve explained, “The only title holders that are available right now are the tag-team champions. And you can’t fight the tag-team champs alone.”

Tango replied, “If that is all that you ve got, then I will challenge them for their title.”

Steve asked, “Are you crazy? How could you possibly think that you could beat the tag-team champs single-handed.? They would crush you!”

Tango was no small man. He was 28 years old and stood six feet two inches tall and weighed about 195 pounds. He was clean shaven and had light brown/blondish hair. He was strikingly handsome. His torso was nicely muscled and tightly toned. His body was smooth and his skin had a rich bronze tan from all of the time that he spent on the beautiful beaches of Argentina. He looked like he was the sweet innocent boy next door type. But Tango had an evil side to him that these guys knew nothing about. He figured that he had what it would take to beat these tag champions, whoever they were.

The Champions were Brad and Bart Battle, identical twin brothers. They were almost impossible to tell apart. Both really hot wrestlers and big fan favorites. They were 36 years old and stood about equal in height to Tango. But they had a weight advantage over him. Brad and Bart each went about 240 pounds and they were heavily muscled. They had black hair and each sported a mustache. They had a smile that could melt butter. They were two big hairy-chested muscle gods who always followed the rules and had a great sense of fair play. You would never see the Battle Brothers stoop to rule-breaking. These champions were big fan favorites and they stood for honor and justice.

“You are a fool if you think that you would stand a chance in the ring with these two guys.” Steve said.

But Tango was not about to take no for an answer. There had to be a way to make this happen. He thought about it for a moment and the spoke up, “OK then, how about this? I will fight both of these guys for the title. I will take them one at a time in a single match. After I finish destroying the first Pussy Brother, then the other one can come into the ring and take a beating from me. After I have shamed and humiliated both of these wimps, then I will hold both of the tag-team championship belts. Or are your big American Muscle-boys afraid of me?”

Steve laughed. “It is your funeral man. I’ll talk to Brad and Bart and see what they have to say about it. I will let you know what they decide, . . . that is if they can stop laughing long enough to accept your challenge.”

The next day Steve informed Tango that the Battle Twins had agreed to put their titles up against him. They were amused at the prospect. But Steve encouraged them to accept simply because he wanted to see them make minced-meat out of the cocky Argentinean Man. The match was set to take place in two days. It would be at the gym on Saturday night at 7:00pm.

Tango arrived early at the gym on Saturday. It was only three o clock. There were not very many people there at all. They would all show up later for tonight’s big event. The place would fill up before seven o clock for sure. Tango went into the office where he found Steve all alone.

Steve looked up at him and asked, “You’re kind of early aren’t you boy? Are you really all that eager to get your ass whipped?”

Tango grinned at him. It was an evil grin. After a moment of silence, he questioned Steve. “Who is going to be the referee for my match?”

Steve replied, “Oh, I am not sure yet. But there won’t be any problem finding a ref”.

Tango said, “I want YOU to be the ref.!”

Steve looked at him in amazement. “Are you suicidal? Do you realize that you are about to go up against two highly experienced wrestlers who will most likely grind you into hamburger? And on top of that you want me to be the referee? Brad and Bart Battle happen to be good buddies of mine. Are you sure that is what you want?”

Without hesitation, Tango replied, “I insist!”

Shaking his head Steve replied, “OK, if you really want it that way, I am not going to argue with you. I just hope that you understand what you are getting yourself into. “

Tango said slyly, “I know more than you think I know”. He strolled around behind the desk where Steve was sitting.

Steve looked up at him and asked, “Just what is that supposed to mean?”

Tango quickly pulled his hand out of his jacket pocket and placed a rag over Steve’s face. Steve was taken completely by surprise. He tried to pry Tango’s hand away from his face but the Argentine was strong and held his grip. The rag was soaked with chloroform. In seconds, Steve fell into unconsciousness.

Tango lifted the man out of his chair and threw him over his shoulder and carried him out of the office and down the hall to a doorway that lead downstairs to the basement. Tango had taken the time over the past couple of days to work out his plan. He discovered that nobody ever went down to the basement. It was the perfect place to convince Steve to go along with his plan. He took Steve down to the basement and laid him on a table.

While the man was still out of it, Tango stripped him naked and tied him in a spread-eagled position. He then took a device out of his gym bag and proceeded to strap it on to Steve’s cock and balls. First, he massaged Steve’s cock and made it big and hard. Then he tightened the cock-ring portion of the device to ensure that his hard-on was going to stay hard. Next, he slipped a black vinyl sheath over the cock-shaft. The inside of the sheath was lined with electrodes that were in direct contact with the skin of Steve’s cock. The next part of the device was a pouch that fit snugly over Steve’s balls. This pouch had the same type of electrodes on the inside as the cock-sheath. There was a battery pack that would later be attached to the waist-band of Steve’s undershorts so that power could be supplied to the electrodes when needed. The control pad that would regulate the speed and intensity of the electric shocks was attached to Tango’s belt. It made a fancy belt-buckle and nobody would ever suspect its true function. It was a remote control for the unit that was attached to Steve’s manhood.

With the equipment in place, Tango untied Steve and re-dressed him. He also used a pair of hand cuffs to secure Steve’s hands behind his back just in case Steve got any ideas about trying to remove the equipment before the match. Tango figured that as long as he could get Steve out into the ring, he would be fine. He thought that it would be far too embarrassing for him to go digging around in his pants in front of all of those guys that would be in attendance. Then he woke Steve using some smelling salts.

Steve shook his head. “What happened? How did we get down here in the basement?”

Tango smirked at him and said, “Don’t you remember Stevie old boy? You agreed to be the Referee for the match and you promised that you would not interfere with the destruction of the champs. You promised me free reign to do as I please.”

Steve looked totally confused and said, “I never agreed to any of that shit - except to be the ref. You will not be getting away with anything that is illegal BOY!”

With that, Tango pressed a silver button on his belt buckle and Steve’s whole body jerked. Tango laughed out loud and said, “You will do whatever I tell you to do! Is that clear?” The electric pulse only lasted for a second and it was not very intense. It was just enough to get Steve’s attention.

Steve cried out, “What the fuck did you do to me?” He was unable to use his hands to feel what was causing the shock but he realized that there was something in his pants that did not belong there. Tango gave him another little jolt. Steve jerked again.

Tango told him, “You have only experienced the lowest setting so far. I can turn up the juice and really fry your nuts if I want to. So, it would be in your best interest to do as I say. So, I ask you again. Do you understand?”

Steve cursed Tango and received another shock for his trouble. He now fully understood that he had no choice in the matter. Tango literally had him by the balls. So, they waited until it was time to go out to the ring. Tango escorted Steve up the stairs and down the hall to the doorway that lead out into the ring area. It was quite noisy out near the ring. There were a lot of men who showed up to see this match. Tango removed the hand cuffs and explained, “Now Steve, you walk through this door and straight to the ring. You are not to say a single word to anybody. If you try to speak, I’ll let you have it with another zap to the privates. Is that understood?” Steve nodded his head in acknowledgement. Tango shoved the Ref through the door and out in plain view of the men in the audience. Now if Steve even thought of trying to remove the electrical stimulator from his crotch, he would end up taking another jolt to the jewels. And he did not want that. He was resigned to the fact that He was at Tango’s mercy.

Steve climbed into the ring and explained that it would be a title match regular rule applying. First, he announced the challenger. Tango sauntered toward the ring with a prominent display of arrogance. He grinned from ear to ear as he listened to the boos and jeers of the men in the audience. Tango was wearing no shirt. He had on a pair of nicely fitted jeans that hugged every bump and curve of his tightly muscled ass and legs. The jeans were faded to a pale blue and were worn and had a few tears in them. He also had a black leather belt which sported a fancy buckle. As he stepped into the ring, Steve explained that Tango would first take on one of the Battle Brothers, and IF he was successful in pinning him or getting him to submit, . . . he would then have to face the other brother. The only way for Tango to win the title belts, would be for him to defeat both of the Champions.

When the bell clanged, Bart Battle came charging through the door from out of the locker room and trotted toward the ring. Everybody was on their feet - cheering and applauding. Bart took a couple of laps around the ring waving to all of his friends and fans. He was bare chested and wore long white tights with a red stripe running down each side. His tights were practically see through. And they fit him like a second skin, accentuating the beauty of his muscular frame. You could easily see his white jock-strap through them.

He hopped up onto the ring apron and turned once more to acknowledge his fans. As he stood there waving to the fans, Tango charged across the ring and drove a knee into Bart’s back sending him flying off of the ring apron. He came down hard and went face first into the steel railing that separated the fans seats from the ring area and then finally ended up flat on his back on the floor. Tango stepped through the ropes and leapt off of the apron in a frog-splash onto the Champ’s chest. He drove all of the wind out of Bart’s lungs. “Oooooffff !!!” Tango grabbed Bart by the hair and dragged him up to his feet. Holding onto him by the hair with one hand and by the seat of his tights with the other, he ran Bart -- head first into the ring post. Bart’s head was split open and he was bleeding pretty good.

Steve had jumped down out of the ring and was going to attempt to get Tango off of Bart. When Tango saw him coming, he pressed the silver button on his belt buckle and Steve stopped dead in his tracks and made a weird noise as he clutched his crotch. “Uuuggh!” Tango just glared at him and Steve knew to back off. So far, the lowest setting on that thing was keeping Steve under control.

Tango picked Bart up and rolled him into the ring under the bottom rope. As Bart attempted to get up on his feet, Tango climbed up onto the ring apron and reached over the ropes to grab Bart by the hair. He pulled Bart into the corner. Tango took the tag-rope and wrapped it around Bart’s throat and was choking the shit out of him. Bart grabbed at the rope to try to loosen it, but Tango had it cinched up really tight. Steve came over to the corner and yelled at Tango to release the choke that he had on Bart. Tango reached for the silver button again and pressed it. Again, Steve quickly cupped his crotch with both hands and staggered backward a few steps. Tango just looked at Steve and grinned. Steve was forced to stand by and watch Tango punish the handsome muscle-god without mercy.

Many of the guys in the audience were yelling for Steve to do something! They could not understand why he was allowing Tango to get away with these brutal tactics. Especially when you consider that Steve and the Battle Brothers were supposed to be such good friends.

Bart’s face was bloody and his arms hung limp at his sides as he was losing consciousness. Tango finally removed the rope from around Bart’s throat and Bart fell to the mats. Tango climbed to the top turnbuckle. He jumped off and came crashing down on Bart with a knee to the gut. Bart was completely out of it. Tango rolled him over onto his back and laid across the muscleman’s magnificent chest for the pin. Bart lay motionless as Steve gave the three count.

As Steve turned to signal the man at the bell to indicate the end of the fall, Tango jumped up and grabbed Steve by the arm. “Not yet my friend! I am not finished with him.”

Steve said, “You have pinned him! This fall is done!”

Tango got right in Steve’s face and asked, “Am I gonna have trouble with you? Do you want zapped again?”

Steve just shook his head and replied, “No, please don t. No more!”

And Tango said, “Then do what the fuck I tell you or else! You know that I can turn up the juice on this thing. You haven’t felt anything yet!” Steve just stepped back and allowed Tango to finish off the hapless Bart.

Tango reached down and grabbed Bart’s tights by the waist and pulled them down exposing the lower half of the downed champ’s jock-clad body. When he was unable to completely remove them because of Bart’s boots, he became frustrated and pulled a pocket knife out of his jeans and cut the tights off at the lower part of the legs. He then proceeded to hogtie Bart with his own tights. Everybody who was watching all of this happening were simply dumbfounded. They could not believe their eyes. No one had ever done this to Bart Battle before.

But Tango was still not done yet. As Bart was slowly regaining consciousness, Tango ripped Bart’s jock off of him and stuffed it into his mouth. He used the elastic straps to tie it around his head to hold it in place. Bart was laying on his belly, hogtied and gagged by his own gear. He had never been so humiliated in his whole life.

Tango turned to Steve and said, “NOW, you can tell that guy to ring the bell.” Steve did as he was told.



Back in the locker room, Brad was just pulling his brief white trunks up over his thighs and over his hard bubble butt. His trunks had red stripes on the sides, similar to the red stripes on his brother’s tights. He did not wear a jock under his trunks. He had a nice package and he liked to show it off naturally. Brad had been restricted to the locker room until it was time for him to go to the ring. He was not permitted to watch or listen to the match as it progressed. When he heard the sound of the bell that indicated that the first part of the match had ended. He thought to himself, “Gee, it’s over already. They were only out there for a short while. I guess Bart must have put that mouthy punk out quickly. I guess that I won’t even get a chance to put a whoopin on that mouthy punk.” Brad figured that he would not even have to wrestle. He never dreamed that Tango would stand a chance against his brother.

Brad walked through the door-way and headed toward the ring. The guys in the audience were going wild. They couldn’t wait to see what Brad was going to do to the nasty Argentine once he realized what had happened. As Brad got closer to the ring area, he saw Tango standing in the middle of the ring with his arms raised in victory.

“WHAT?!?!?! -- What happened? What is that punk doing?” Brad asked, in shock. When he reached the ring, he saw his brother struggling against his confines. Brad couldn’t believe what he was looking at. “YOU BASTARD!!! . . . YOU SON-OF-A-BITCH!!! . . . You re gonna pay for hogtying my brother like that!! I’ll fucking kill you!”

Brad’s first instinct was to go to his brother’s aide. He rolled into the ring and knelt at his brother’s side and tried to untie him. But Tango wasn’t about to let that happen. He came up behind Brad and kicked him in the kidney area. Brad arched backward in pain and fell to the canvas with a thud. Tango stood over him and smiled as he began to taunt his next victim. “I certainly hope that you are going to be a bit more of a challenge than you brother was. He was absolutely pathetic! Take a good look at him because you are going to end up the same way!” Tango grabbed Brad by the hair and pulled him to his feet.

Just as Brad had gotten up, he drove a powerful right fist into Tango’s gut. “Oooofff” Tango had not expected this. Brad had driven the air out of him. As Tango was doubled over, Brad delivered a knee-lift to his face knocking him backward and landing flat on his ass. The crowd was going wild again. Now they were going to see this arrogant bastard get what he had coming to him.

Tango had barely gotten to his feet when Brad took a hold of him and shoved him back into the corner. He pulled him out and whipped him into the turnbuckle across the ring. Pain shot through Tango’s back as he crashed into the corner. Brad wasted no time. He charged in and drove his shoulder into Tango’s gut. The cocky stud from Argentina was hurting now. Things were taking a new direction. Everyone seemed to be happy about it except for Tango.

Brad hauled his opponent out of the corner with a snap-mare. Tango laid there on his back trying to collect himself and get his bearings. Meanwhile, Brad returned to his brother’s side to attempt to free him. Tango saw this and told Steve that he had better stop him or else. Steve hesitated. Tango hit the button on his belt buckle again and Steve felt the jolt. Steve had thought that his problem was over but now he realized that he was still under Tango’s control. Tango gasped, “DO IT MAN!! Get him away from his brother or I will fry your fucking balls!!” As much as Steve hated it, he had to follow orders. He went over and pulled Brad away from his brother.

Brad looked at him with a very confused expression on his face. “What are you doing Steve? I ve gotta help Bart get loose!”

Steve replied, “Right now, you are involved in a match. You can tend to your brother later. But right now, you have got to put that mother fucker away!”

As Brad was arguing with Steve, Tango had recovered and came up behind Brad. He hit him with a double chop to the back of his neck that dropped Brad to his knees. Then Tango applied a nerve hold to Brad’s trapezium muscles. He dug in deep and hard. Brad held his arms out and both hands were balled into fists as he tried to resist the pain of the nerve hold. Tango would maintain this hold for several minutes and then release it only to deliver several chops to the same area and then reapply the hold. He alternated the chops and the nerve hold for about ten minutes.

Tango laughed as he saw the look of pain on Brad’s face. “Not so fucking hot now, are you Muscle-Man? Do you want to submit to me now or do you want to be humiliated like your pretty-boy brother?” Brad struggled with every bit of strength that he could muster. He got up to his feet and was able to jam his elbow into Tango’s midsection. It stunned the handsome Argentine, but he still maintained the nerve hold. But with Brad up on his feet, the angle was not a conducive one for Tango and the hold was less effective. Three more elbow-jabs and Brad was free of the hold. He moved his arms around like a windmill and flexed his shoulders to try to shake off the pain caused by the hold.

As Tango approached, Brad moved quickly in a go-behind and locked his wrists together around Tango’s waist. Every few seconds, Brad would give a hard squeeze and not realizing that each time he did this, he was sending a burst of electricity through the Ref’s crotch. Brads hands were directly over his opponent’s belt buckle. It was a real spectacle to watch. Every few seconds, Steve would jerk and he would grab his crotch. Unknowingly, Brad had also caused the little black knob on the buckle to turn - increasing the intensity of the current being sent to Steve’s manhood.

Nobody could understand what Steve was trying to do. They were actually laughing at him. Now it seemed that he had both wrestlers working against him. (Even if Brad had no idea what he was doing.) Steve finally dropped to his knees screaming in agony and clutching his crotch. “PLEEEEEEESE STOP!!! YOU RE KILLING ME!!!” But nobody had a clue as to what he was talking about.

Brad finally released the hold and let the winded Tango drop to the canvas. Brad went over to Steve to see if he was alright. “Steve! What wrong? What are you doing, man?” Steve laid in the canvas still holding himself. He was mumbling gibberish. He made no sense. He was completely out of it. He was so far gone that Tango would not be able to rely on his help anymore.

Once again Brad made the fatal mistake of turning his back on his opponent. Tango hit him from behind again. He scooped Brad up and slammed him hard. He decided that he had to take this American Muscle Stud out, and soon. “No more wasting time! You are going down Boy!!”

Tango dragged Brad to the corner by his hair. He pulled him up to his feet and propped him up against the turnbuckles. Brad’s arms were draped over the top ropes on either side and his legs were hanging outside of the second rope in the same manner. Tango said, “Do you submit Boy?”

Brad, gasping for air, managed to say, “Fuck You!”

This amused the sexy South American Wrestler. “Fuck ME???? HA!! No, my helpless little muscle-boy. If anyone around here is going to be fucked, it will be YOU! Besides, when I am finished with you, I don’t think that you are going to feel much like fucking anything for a long time.”

That is when Tango kicked Brad right in his exposed unprotected balls. Brad made some very interesting noises caused by the severe pain in his crotch. Tango then began to beat Brad’s crotch with his fist. With Brad’s legs hung over the ropes and spread wide apart, he was completely defenseless. Bart, still hogtied and making futile attempts to free himself was forced to watch as the young man from Argentina beat and pounded on his brother’s crotch. He could almost feel the pain that his brother was enduring, in his own groin.

After about five minutes, Tango ceased his brutal assault. He unhooked Brad from the ropes and let him drop to the floor of the ring. Brad moaned as he was now laying there near Steve and clutching his crotch much the same way that Steve was.

Tango got another idea. He quickly went to work taking the laces out of Brad’s boots. Brad was in no condition to stop him and he offered no resistance. Once he had the laces, he used one of them to tie Brad’s wrists behind his back. He stood up and looked around the ring and smiled. He yelled out to the men in the audience. “Look at them! These are your Champions? They are a joke! If this is the best that you ve got around here, then I feel sorry for you all.” The boos and jeers got loud and echoed through the gym.

Brad started to stir. He was regaining consciousness. Tango helped him to his feet and leaned him back against the turnbuckle. Brad realized that his hands were bound behind him and that he was again in a vulnerable position. He tried to get out of the corner, but He was shoved right back by Tango’s powerful arms. He asked again, “Do you submit now Champ?”

But Brad refused to give in. Tango reached out and cupped Brad’s crotch with his right hand. He began to knead and massage it until Brad’s cock started to swell. Brad protested, “What the fuck are you doing? Get your hands away from my fucking pants.!!”

Tango replied, “I think that you like it Champ. It’s looking like there isn’t enough room in those tight little trunks to hold that big growing muscle of yours. Here, let me help you out.” With that, Tango pulled Brad’s cock out of his trunks. It was hard as a rock and it was pointing straight at Tango. Brad was beside himself with humiliation. Nothing like this had ever happened to anyone at the gym before, much less to him!

Tango started a series of open-handed slaps to the Brad’s hard dick. Slapping it back and forth. As he continued, he slapped harder and harder. After a few more minutes, Brad was forced to cum against his will. He shot his load and it went all over Tango’s jeans. This did not please Tango. “You Asshole!!! Now look what you did. Clean it off!!” Brad was forced to his knees and made to lick his own cum off of Tango’s jeans.

Tango was not satisfied. He wanted to humiliate these big heroes even more in front of their fans. So, he took Brad’s head and forced it between his thighs and squeezed it tight. Then he reached around Brad’s waist and lifted him up. He brought Brad down hard in a tomb-stone pile driver. Brad was pretty-well out of it again. Tango dropped down on his knees, straddling the beaten man, and sat back so that he was sitting on Brad’s face. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a couple of packets. He tore the packets open and squeezed the contents out of them onto Brad’s chest. Then as he smeared the stuff all over the hairy pecs, it lathered up real nice. It was shaving gel. Tango laughed hysterically as he then pulled an object out of his boot. (It is obvious that Tango had given a lot of thought as to his preparations for this match before he came to the ring.) He now held a straight razor in his hand. He took the razor out of its small case and proceeded to shave all of that gorgeous black hair from the muscle-man’s chest. Brad was barely aware of what was happening to him. But Bart, had tears running from his eyes as he watched his brother’s dignity being stripped away. (Not that he was looking very dignified himself, laying there all tied up with his jock stuffed in his mouth.)

After Tango finished the complimentary shave-job, he stood over Brad and taunted him. “Look at yourself now you sorry-ass piece of shit! You and your candy-ass brother were going to kick my ass and send me on my way. But it looks like things didn’t work out for you, did they? Now everyone can see that you are NOTHING! You may have a lot of pretty muscles, but you don’t have the know-how to use them. Now, let’s clean off the rest of that shaving cream so that we can all see that nice smooth chest.” That is when Tango unzipped his fly and pulled out his own ample sized cock. He pissed all over Brad’s chest washing away any remnants of the shaving cream. Brad tried to roll out of the way but Tango held him in place by planting a boot solidly on his midsection. Once finished, Tango stuffed his meat back into his pants. He then reached down and pulled Brad’s trunks off of him.

Now, he looked around until he found the remaining boot-lace that he had removed from Brad’s boots earlier. He grabbed it and tied it tight around Brad’s balls. He dragged Brad over to where his brother Bart was laying. He rolled Bart over on his side and positioned the two brothers face to face next to each other. Then the other end of the boot-lace was tied to Bart’s balls.

The twin muscle-god Champs were now joined at the balls. Whenever one of them tried to move the other would nearly get his balls torn off. They tortured each other for a while until they realized that their efforts were achieving nothing but pain. They were helpless and thoroughly humiliated.

Tango demanded, “NOW!!! SUBMIT!! If you don t, then we will have to have a tug-of-war between the two of you pathetic pussies to see which one of you will lose your fucking balls first!” Bart could not speak because he still had his own jock stuffed in his mouth. So, it was up to Brad to say the magic words. He could not see any other way out. He was forced to submit.

Tango held his arms up in victory and smiled for the hostile fans at ringside. He slipped out of the ring under the bottom rope and grabbed both of the tag-team title belts. He held them up for everyone to see that he was now in possession of them and that he was taking them back to his homeland. He called out, “If any of you wimps ever develop enough backbone, you are welcome to come to Argentina and try to get these back from me. But I don’t think that I will be seeing any of you losers again.”

As Tango left the gym, several members of the audience rushed up to the ring to rescue the ex-champs. Oh, . . . and Steve finally came around and began to speak more coherently. A couple of fans helped him back to the locker room as well. He was totally embarrassed when he was in the locker room with Brad and Bart showing them how Tango had been controlling him. They were all rather pissed off at the fact that they had let this young punk come in here and show them up and humiliate them the way that he did.

A week later, the Battle Brothers received a letter from Argentina. Enclosed with the letter, was a picture of Tango standing on the beach in his swimming trunks. He had both of the title-belts slung over his shoulders and he was grinning from ear to ear.



-- The End