Gauntlet III Marshall vs The Executioner

 

The Gauntlet III:

Marshall vs The Executioner

By

The Mangler

Marshall limped through the curtain to the back as the announcer announced the second wrestler for the next match. He ignored the argument between Wiley and the league official, Walker, which was taking place in the aisle of the arena. 

The next two wrestlers were well-matched, so Marshall figured the match would go its full length. He had 20-30 minutes to prepare for his final bout against The Executioner, so he thought a quick hot shower would help.

No sooner had he walked into the locker room than a pair of arms went around his upper chest and under his arms before lifting up and locking his hand behind his neck, placing him in a perfect full nelson.  Almost instantly, he saw Ash, wearing lightweight boxing gloves, step in front of him and start throwing punches into his abs.  

Each punch echoed with a “splat” and the explosion of sweat droplets that reflected throughout the locker room.  Each blow landed deep into Marshall’s already worked-over abs and felt like a semi driving through him.  Ash quickly fell into a routine as he was used to using Marshall’s abs as his personal speed punching bag.  Tonight, he was trying to see how hard he could hit.  Marshall had almost no chance at defending himself other than trying to tense his abs, which was not very effective after the abuse from his first two matches.

The blows went on for a little over a full minute—a lifetime as you were getting your abs destroyed-- before a loud whistle was heard.

“Aahh looks like playtime is over,” Ash said as he drew back for his final blow.  However, the blow did not go into the abs but went directly into Marshall’s balls, eliciting a scream, a significant expulsion of breath, and a forward thrust, which forcefully broke the full nelson.  No longer being held by the nelson,  Marshall dropped to the floor holding his nuts.

Ash and his mysterious partner exited the locker room.

“Damn, that was a lot of fun,” Ash enthused.

“Yeah, for you, maybe, but I’d rather be doing the punching,” Kayden replied as they turned the corner away from the locker room.  They were joined by Adam, who was holding a whistle in his hand, and they were passed by Walker, heading down the hall.  He turned the corner toward Marshall’s locker room.  He looked at the three wrestlers askance but kept walking as they weren’t doing anything they shouldn’t be.

Walker entered the locker room and found Marshall slumped to the floor, his face scrunched in pain, and holding his nuts. The official looked back out of the locker room, knowing that those wrestlers had been up to something, but he couldn't do anything as he had not witnessed anything untoward.

“Time for you to head out to the ring,” Walker announced.

“I just fucking got jumped,” Marshall yelled from the floor.

“Sorry about that, but I didn’t see anything, so I only have your word for it. However, they are ready for your next match, so you need to head to the ring.”

Marshall looked up and whined, “What?  I have at least 15-20 minutes yet.”

“Nah, the other match is already over.”

“Over!  How can that be?” Marshall asked.

“They locked up into a collar and elbow, Uli locked on a headlock, and tossed Owen over his hip to the ring mat, where he covered him for a three-count.”

“What the fuck?  That was bogus.”

“Probably, but it was legal.  Now, am I going to cancel this match, or are you coming?”

“I’m coming.” 

Walker helped Marshall to his feet, noticing the winching and pain as Marshall rose. As he helped him out into the hallway, he noticed that Marshall kept one arm across his abs. He followed him down to the curtain, where Marshall awaited his entrance by taking deep breaths and trying to center himself. This was a crucial match—maybe his most important.

“Time to put this feud to bed,” Walker said, standing behind Marshall.

“You got that right,” Marshall responded.

Through the curtain, Marshall could hear, “Entering the ring now, we have The Executioner .” 

He listened to the loud boos coming from the crowd, although there were some cheers as well. 

“And now making his entrance,” the announcer began.

At that point, a blinding pain shot up from Marshall’s balls into his lower abdomen and up into his chest as Walker shot a pump handle between the legs.  To make it worse, the official was wearing a stiff leather arm guard under his long sleeves, which amplified the force of the blow.

As Marshall wretched, reached for his crotch, and bent over from the blow, Walker put his foot on Marshall’s ass and pushed him through the curtains and into the arena, where cheers were awaiting his entrance.  The official turned and high-fived both Ash and Kayden, who had come up the hallway unseen and unheard.

“It should be a very competitive match, don’t you think?” Ash said before bursting into laughter. The three moved to another entrance and then entered the back of the arena to watch the action.

“We have Marshall Gould,” the announcer finished his introduction.  The crowd was initially exuberant but then a little confused and concerned as Marshall stumbled through the curtains, holding his crotch and obviously in a lot of pain.  He stopped and took several deep breaths before he began a slow, stumbling walk down to the ring.  Many people figured something nefarious had occurred but had no idea what.

Marshall got to the edge of the ring and stopped. He looked up to see where The Executioner was located, as he was wary of an early assault, only to find his opponent standing in his corner talking with the referee. The referee, whom Marshall did not know well, was relatively new to this league, and this was his first major bout. He had experience in other leagues—at least, his resume said he did.

Marshall climbed unimpeded into the ring.  The ref went through his foreign body check and instructions with no issues or problems, although Marshall had been on high alert awaiting some shenanigans from The Executioner.

The ref rang the bell, and the two wrestlers approached each other—The Executioner with some pep and Marshall with some caution. The Executioner raised his left hand in the air, challenging Marshall to a test of strength. 

“Let’s see what you got, big boy,” he mocked.

Marshall slowly raised his right hand and reached out for his opponent’s hand.  The two men interlocked their fingers and then raised their other hands.  As their free hands were about to touch, The Executioner balled his hand into a fist, dropped it down, and drove it into Marshall’s solar plexus, causing him to emit a loud “oomph,” step back and bend slightly forward.

The Executioner disentangled his left hand, slipped it around the back of Marshall’s neck, and turned him into a side headlock.  He joined his two hands and pulled as hard as possible against Marshall’s head, smothering him into The Executioner’s side.  The Executioner turned Marshall away from the ref and drove his right thumb deep into Marshall’s throat.  Marshall gagged and tried to pull back, but The Executioner maintained the hold long enough to deliver a second thumb.  As he did so, he released the headlock, and Marshall stumbled backward with his hands going to his throat.

“Hey, did you strike the throat,” the ref inquired.

Throwing both his hands into the air, The Executioner replied, “Not at all.”  He quickly stepped into Marshall, grabbed him by the hair, and pulled him back into a side headlock.

“Watch the hair pull,” the ref admonished.  “Break...”

The Executioner released the hold and held his arms up, but he immediately reapplied it, making it legal again. Once again, he turned away from the ref and repeated the double thumb blows to the throat.

Marshall was gagging and struggling to get his breath as he flailed backward.  The Executioner ignored the ref’s warnings as he once again grabbed Marshall’s hair.  This time, he pulled him over to the ropes and draped his neck across the rope.  The Executioner then applied a full nelson with his hands going under the armpits, outside the top rope, over the top rope, and then behind Marshall’s neck before locking behind the neck and forcing his neck down across the ropes.

“Hey, break the hold,” the ref demanded.

“Why, it’s a legal full nelson,” was the reply.

“Not when it is over the rope and choking the wrestler.”

“Who the hell made that rule?” The Executioner asked.

“It has always been the rule, so break the damned hold,” the ref screamed.

The Executioner applied as much pressure to the hold as he could as he continued arguing with the ref, distracting him from starting a count.

“Break the hold,” The ref repeated.

When he saw no attempt to comply with the demand, the ref finally began to count to five.  At this point, Marshall started to sag to his knees as the lack of oxygen took its toll.

The Executioner released the hold when the ref reached 4.5 in his count and stepped backward.

“When I tell you to break a hold, I mean break it now,” The ref screamed into The Executioner’s face.

“Hey, I have until five, so fuck off,” was the reply as The Executioner continued to move backward until he was near the other side of the ring. He was keeping a close eye on Marshall the entire time.  Marshall put both hands on the top of the rope and began to pull himself back to a standing position.

At the right time, The Executioner charged across the ring, leaped across the top rope, twisted, and grabbed Marshall by the back of the head as he dropped to the floor.  The effect was to slam Marshall’s throat back across the top rope and deform the rope as he hit the floor.  Once he hit the floor, The Executioner released Marshall’s head, and the top rope rebounded, forcing Marshall up and over where he fell to the mat with the back of his head slamming full force into the mat.

The Executioner immediately reached under the ropes, grabbed both of Marshall’s ankles, and charged backward, dragging Marshall out of the ring until he was parallel to the floor before gravity took hold.  Marshall dropped to the floor, slamming his head on the thin mats around the ring.  The Executioner maintained his hold on the ankles, ensuring that most of the force was to the back of Marshall’s head.

The blow to the head, along with the lack of oxygen, sent Marshall into near unconsciousness.  Not missing a beat, The Executioner twisted and stepped over Marshall’s legs, forcing him to his chest, before dropping down and sitting on Marshall's back while pulling up on the legs.  Due to the initial lack of resistance from Marshall, The Executioner was able to drop into an extreme Boston Crab, putting immense pressure on Marshall’s lower back.

The move brought Marshall back to full consciousness from the intense pain due to the previous back and ab work he had received during the last two matches. The ref arrived at Marshall’s feet and immediately began berating The Executioner. 

Once again, The Executioner engaged him in an argument until the ref finally began to count. Although The Executioner released the hold before 5, the ref continued counting, and The Executioner realized he was trying to count him out of the ring.

The Executioner smirked and rolled onto the ring apron, and under the bottom rope just long enough to break the count, he rolled back outside, where he grabbed Marshall by the hair and jerked him to his feet.  Marshall felt as if he were being scalped.  The ref was screaming at The Executioner but not counting.  The Executioner dragged Marshall over to the barriers between the ring area and the crowd.  He draped Marshall’s neck across the solid barrier and then looked at the young leather vest-wearing, jean-clad punk standing in front of him who was laughing and smirking.

“Why don’t you put his head between your thighs?” The Executioner asked.

“Why not,” the punk replied as he stepped over and locked Marshall’s head between his thighs and then applied downward pressure.  The fans standing around the young punk tightened up to prevent any Marshall-friendly fans from getting down to interfere.

The ref ran over and began screaming at the fan for his interference.  He turned and called for security while The Executioner stepped backward, reached down, grabbed Marshall’s ankles, and lifted so that Marshall’s only support point was his neck over the metal barrier.  If anyone could see his face, they would see Marshall’s eyes bulging.

The ref screamed at the fan some more before he remembered to begin counting for a break.

“At four,” The Executioner said to the fan.

The fan stepped back when the ref reached four, releasing the head. The Executioner removed the feet, and Marshall slammed down to the floor and slid off the barrier.  His eyes were glassy, and he obviously wasn’t fully conscious.

By this time, security was approaching the area.  The young punk disappeared over the row of seats behind him while the fans in the first row stepped in front of him.  As he did so, he shed his leather vest, revealing a thin but muscular chest.  One of the fans handed him a bright polo shirt, which he slipped on.  He then dropped down into one of the seats on the second row, where the other fans surrounded him.

When security arrived, the ref could not point out the young miscreant even though he was trying to identify him.

Taking advantage of the ref’s distraction, The Executioner dragged Marshall to his knees, locked his head between The Executioner's thighs, and executed a perfect pile driver, driving Marshall’s head into the mats around the ring.  Marshall dropped to the ground.

The Executioner laughed as he slid back into the ring and stood at the ropes, taunting a barely moving Marshall. As the ref gave up on trying to identify the fan involved in the outside interference, he turned back toward the action, failing to observe one of the security guards nodding and delivering a wink to the fan, who just smirked.

When he turned, the ref found The Executioner standing in the ring and a moaning, gasping, and dazed Marshall lying on the floor.  He looked between the two wrestlers before moving over to check on Marshall.

Marshall was huffing and puffing but moving slowly. The ref kept checking on Marshall until the crowd began chanting, “Count him out, count him out.”  Realizing that he was obligated to start his ten-count, he did.

“Get up, Marshall, or I’ll have to count you out,” the ref said before he began the count.

At the count of 5, Marshall managed to get to his hands and knees, although all four limbs were a little shaky. When the ref hit 8 in his count, The Executioner came over the top on the rope, landing next to Marshall and delivering a football kick into the abs. The force of the kick forced Marshall up, over, and onto his back.

“Get back in the ring,” the ref screamed at The Executioner as he stopped his count, which was The Executioner's intent.

“I'm just going to help Loser back into the ring,” The Executioner replied as he grabbed a handful of hair and trunks and pulled Marshall to his feet. Once he had him on his shaky feet, he grabbed the right wrist and slung Marshall into the ring edge back first. 

After hitting the ring, Marshall took one step away until a charging Executioner met him. His lower back was slammed into the ring edge again, and Marshall let out a loud groan.

The Executioner picked up Marshall in a cross-body hold, walked him over to the ring, and slid him under the bottom rope, keeping him on his back.  All this time, the ref had been screaming at The Executioner to release Marshall and get back into the ring.

“Are you happy now? He’s back in the ring, and I’m going to follow,” The Executioner told the ref as he hopped onto the ring apron. 

He immediately jumped onto the top rope and, using its springiness, jumped into the air and did a somersault, landing back first across Marshall’s abs.  The ref was just getting under the rope, so The Executioner took the opportunity to slam a fist down into Marshall’s balls as he pulled himself to his feet.

Marshall let out a little scream as his hands dropped to his crotch.  The ref looked over and knew what had happened but could not say anything.  The Executioner grabbed Marshall’s ankles, pulled him into the ring, twisted him to his back, and applied a Boston Crab, getting as much stretch and bend as possible.

Marshall felt pain in his back and abdominal muscles as they stretched out. He was still somewhat out of it and was ineffective in trying to turn over and break the hold. However, he finally realized that he was near the ropes, so he could reach out and grab them.

“He is into the ropes, so break the hold,” the ref informed The Executioner.

Surprising everyone, The Executioner dropped the hold without question. However, as soon as Marshall hit the mat, The Executioner grabbed both ankles and jerked Marshall into the middle of the ring. He turned him to his back, spread his legs, and performed a leg drop, mainly impacting the abs and lower chest. He knelt between Marshall’s spread legs, leaned over, and locked on a double-handed abdominal claw. Due to the abs work by Ash and Byron in the previous matches, his hands sank in, and he got a good lock.

Marshall grunted and reached down, trying to pull The Executioner’s hands-free, but was unsuccessful. 

“See, when you have friends, they can help to soften you up.  And doing it legally to I might add,” The Executioner smirked.  When he said the last, he looked at the ref and winked.

The ref jerked back in surprise as he wasn’t sure what The Executioner was hinting at.   The Executioner released both claws, joined his hands together in one large fist, raised it above his head, and then slammed the fist down into the softened lower abs.  Marshall grunted, tensed, and tried to sit up.  The Executioner slammed his knee into Marshall’s balls as soon as he did.

“Watch the low blows,” the ref screamed.

“Oops,” was all The Executioner said as he stood up, grabbed Marshall by the hair and arm, and pulled him to his feet.  He stood behind Marshall, threw Marshall's left hand behind the head and back, locked his leg, and applied an abdominal stretch, pulling as hard as he could.  

He would grab the ropes when he had an opportunity to increase his pressure. Marshall groaned each time he did this, and the ref finally got wise and caught The Executioner the next time he grabbed the ropes.

“No using the ropes; break the hold,” the ref demanded.

The Executioner responded by pulling on the ropes harder, forcing the ref to begin his count.  Once he reached four, The Executioner released the ropes, balled his hand into a fist, and brought it up and over, slamming it down into Marshall’s lower abs before releasing the hold and dropping Marshall to the mat.

When he hit the mat, Marshall rolled to his stomach, giving The Executioner a perfect target in his lower back. The Executioner stomped twice and then dropped a knee to the lower back. Marshall rolled to the ropes, reached up, and grabbed the middle rope to try to pull himself back to his feet.

The Executioner started toward him, but the ref interposed himself between the two wrestlers, giving Marshall time to regain his feet.  When The Executioner pushed the ref to the side and advanced on Marshall, he was ready for him and delivered a kick to the lower abs, halting him in his tracks.  Marshall then leaned on the top rope, brought both feet into the air, and gave a mule kick directly into The Executioner's upper chest, propelling him across the ring and rebounding off the ropes, where he was met with a clothesline, slamming him back to the ring floor.

Not letting up, Marshall hobbled over, grabbed a handful of hair, and began pulling The Executioner to his feet.  The ref admonished Marshall for using the hair, and Marshall turned his head to look at the ref and laugh.  Seeing that Marshall had the ref’s attention, The Executioner drove his forearm between Marshall’s legs, slamming it up into his scrotum, resulting in his balls being smashed against his pelvic bone.

When the pain hit Marshall, he gave a loud grunt, grabbed his crotch, and bent over slightly.  The Executioner reached up and locked his hands behind Marshall’s head and pulled down as hard as he could, slamming Marshall’s forehead into the mat and stunning him.  The Executioner quickly turned so that he was aside Marshall’s back, pulled each of Marshal’s arms up over his knees, grasped under the chin, and pulled backward, trapping Marshall in a camel clutch.  The pain exploded in Marshall’s back and his abs.

The Executioner would rock back and forth and sit up and down, trying to maximize the damage that was being done to Marshall.  Tiring of the hold, he dropped Marshall supine to the mat, stood up, and pulled Marshall to his feet using his hair and his trunks.  He benched, pressed Marshall over his head, and displayed him for several seconds, showing off his strength.  The Executioner released Marshall at the same time he dropped to one knee, resulting in Marshall’s abs slamming across his knee, eliciting a loud “oomph” and the expelling of air from the lungs. 

The Executioner quickly pulled Marshall back up, lifted him, and then dropped him back first across his knee.  He took several seconds pushing Marshall’s chin and thighs, increasing the pain in the lower back.  He pulled Marshall to his feet, locked his right arm around his back, lifted him up, and dropped him in a shoulder breaker across his knee.  The Executioner had targeted all three weak areas, the abs, the back, and the shoulders, in a series of back-to-back maneuvers.

As he dropped Marshall to the mat after the shoulder breaker, The Executioner laughed and looked out at the crowd.  He repeated the series of three moves twice before finally dropping Marshall to the mat.  Marshall was in a world of pain and unaware of where he was.

The Executioner pulled Marshall from the mat, locked the right hand behind his back, bent Marshall over at the waist, and then charged him across the ring, sending his right shoulder into the ring post between the first and second rope.  The Executioner ensured that the shoulder's point took most of the blow. 

After hitting the ring post, Marshall sagged down in the corner.  Gripping the back of the trunks, The Executioner pulled Marshall from between the ropes, pulled him upright, and slammed him back into the turnbuckle.  He grabbed the middle rope on each side of Marshall and began slamming his shoulders into the damaged abs of his opponent.  He did this until the ref had finally reached the 4 ½ count.  He stood up before leaning forward and lifting Marshall into a fireman’s carry before twisting and slamming him down onto the mat.

Marshall arched up as his back impacted the ring floor, giving The Executioner a perfect target to slam a fist into. This forced Marshall to his back, and he pulled Marshall from the mat and executed a back slam. 

After accomplishing his move, he pulled Marshall to the center of the ring and rolled him onto his stomach.  He stepped over Marshall’s lower back, pulled Marshall’s legs up, and locked them around his waist before gripping each wrist and standing back up, trapping Marshall in a swinging surfboard.  This hold applied pressure to all three damaged areas.

To increase the pain in the right shoulder, The Executioner pulled upward on that wrist while letting the left wrist drop-down, applying most of the pressure to the right shoulder.  It did not take long until Marshall was screaming his submission.  The ref called for the bell and demanded that The Executioner break the hold, but his admonishes were ignored as The Executioner continued to swing Marshall back and forth.

The crowd’s boos turned to cheers as they saw Wiley come through the curtain and charge down toward the ring.  However, their expectations were halted when Wiley was about halfway to the ring when a body exploded out of the crowd and speared him to the hard floor.  When Wiley hit the floor, his head bounced off, stunning him.  Kayden then proceeded to rain punches down on Wiley, who initially threw his hands up, trying to ward off the blows, but Kayden had achieved the upper hand.  Eventually, Wiley’s hands dropped to the concrete, and he was all but out of it.  Meanwhile, in the ring, The Executioner continued the swinging surfboard and ignored the ref.

Suddenly, on the other side of the ring, another figure could be seen hurling toward the ring.  The crowd cheered when they realized it was Liam charging down.  However, the cheers stopped when Liam was near the ring, getting ready to slide under the ropes, when Ash appeared, wrapped his arms around Liam’s waist, and executed a near-perfect back suplex down onto the mats around the ring.  As soon as the two bodies impacted the floor, Ash rolled over on top of Liam and began raining down blows on the head and neck.  Just as on the other side of the arena, Ash had neutralized the saving angel so that The Executioner could continue his sadistic torture of Marshall.

The ref was practically begging The Executioner to break the hold, but he was ignored for nearly five minutes when Marshall’s screams became more intense and desperate.  Finally, The Executioner dropped Marshall to the mat and delivered several stomps into the injured shoulder before placing his foot in the middle of the back and throwing his hands up in a victory pose.  He was quickly joined in the ring by Kayden and Ash, who each stood on one side of The Executioner and held his arm up.

The ref, who was checking on Marshall, suddenly found himself forcibly pushed to the side of the ring. At the same time, The Executioner and Ash pulled Marshall to his feet, placed one of his arms over each of their shoulders, and then hooked one foot around an ankle, spreading Marshall out while his abs were fully exposed and unprotected.  Finally getting his turn, Kayden took up a boxer’s stance and began raining punches down into the abs, using them as his punching bag.  Each punch brought a loud grunt from Marshall, but he was unable to protect himself.

Kayden’s punches became more forceful and determined until the last punch was thrown with as much power as possible but was aimed at the balls instead of the abs.  A loud whooshing of air could be heard as the punch landed.  Marshall bent forward and hunched so forcefully that he broke free from both Ash and The Executioner as he fell to the mat, his hands locked onto his crotch.  The three heels pointed at Marshall, raised their hands, and laughed.

The Executioner bent over and said to Marshall, “In agreement with our contract, I have arranged a match for you next week.  And it is one you will enjoy immensely. I’ll send you the details.” 

Before exiting the ring, Kayden and Ashley relieved Marshall of his singlet, leaving him only his too-small jock strap.  They laughed as they exited the ring and sauntered up the aisle, stopping to give Wiley a couple of stomps as they passed him.  They high-fived the fans who had enjoyed the action.

When they went through the curtain, they also high-fived Walker, who helped distract Wiley (see Marshall vs. Byron), and then low-blowed Marshall before the start of the match. They gave a nod and a thumbs-up to Mike, the previous referee. He nodded in their direction and gave them a slight smirk. 

While the heel faction had officially been disbanded, it looked like another had been formed between The Executioner, Ash, Kayden, and Adam. They seemed to have acquired some friends within the league officials as well.

Who knew what this meant for the league?  Marshall was lying nearly naked in the ring with his abs, shoulders, balls, and back all in pain, while his two “rescuers” were lying in the aisle, slowly regaining their senses.   It wasn’t good for the faces—a mild understatement.

Wiley and Liam slowly regained their feet and headed to the ring, where the ref was checking on Marshall.

“He okay,” Wiley asked as he reached the apron.

“A little beat up, but yeah, overall,” the ref replied.

Liam and Marshall each reached under the ropes, grabbed an ankle, and slowly pulled Marshall to the edge of the ring.  They stood him up and placed one arm around each of their shoulders as they helped him up the aisle.

The ref was walking behind them until Walker intercepted him and began berating him for allowing the abuse after the end of the match.

The three wrestlers continued through the curtain into the back hallway, where they were met with three front kicks to the balls before The Executioner, Ash, and Kayden grabbed them by the head and dropped down to the concrete floor, slamming the head onto their shoulders in a neck breaker.  The three attackers dropped onto their opponent's back, where they locked on sleeper holds, which they held until Marshall, Wiley, and Liam were nearly unconscious.

The three released the holds, stood up, and gave each other fist pumps before reaching down and grabbing their victims.  They hoisted them onto their shoulders and carried them into the heel locker room.

Walker headed toward the heel locker room where Ash, Kayden, and The Executioner were just leaving, each carrying their gear bag.

“Everything okay?” he asked the trio.

“Yeah, just heading home.  The locker room is empty,” The Executioner said rather loudly so that others standing around could hear.

“Great, saves me from having to check it out,” Walker replied as he inserted his key into the lock and locked up the room.

Walker went down to the face locker room and found it empty as well.  He assumed Marshall had wanted to get out of here as fast as he could.

Walker whistled as he locked up the face locker room and headed out the back door.  If anyone had passed him, they would have noticed a smirk on his face.

The following morning, the janitor was treated to quite the sight when he opened the heel locker room to clean it. As soon as he turned the light on, he heard a series of loud grunts.

Marshall, Wiley, and Liam stood in a circle of three naked bodies except for wrestling boots.  Each of their arms was stretched over their heads and attached to the rafters by a chain attached to their wrists via a pair of soft leather cuffs.  Duck taped had been used to tape their knees to the two wrestlers next to them, (ie. Marshall had his right knee taped to Wiley’s left knee and Marshall’s left knee attached to Liam’s right).  Liam was similarly set up between Wiley and Marshall.  Each of the wrestlers had a pair of heavy-duty tit clamps attached with the center chain of the three clamps tangled in the middle so that any movement by the wrestler caused pulling on three of them.

Each wrestler had a leather parachute spreader attached to their scrotum, stretching their balls away from their bodies.  A metal chain at the end of the spreader was attached to a 20-pound weight hanging from the balls.  All three parachutes were attached to the same weight, so any movement affected all three.  Each wrestler had duct tape over his mouth.  All three looked exhausted and in pain.

“Holy fuck” the janitor said as he pulled out his cell phone to document the sight in front of him.

He laughed and said, “Don’t go anywhere while I find some official to help you out.”  Then he exited the locker room.

He returned 20 minutes later with Walker in tow.

“What the fuck,” Walker said with surprise. 

Walker began to free the three by first removing the tit clamps.  As each clamp was removed, it elicited a loud groan of pain as well as body movement, which only caused the twenty-pound weight to swing around, stretching out the balls.

He next began to try and release the twenty-pound weight.  Unfortunately, the weight slipped out of his hands a couple of times before he could free it.  Marshall was the last one to be free, and Walker lost his grip on the weight twice, causing it to drop with its full weight, pulling on Marshall’s balls.  It was all Walker could do not to laugh.

He finally freed the tape around the knees, causing more pain as it was ripped off. He then released the wrestlers' wrists from the cuffs. When he was fully free, each wrestler slipped to the floor. Marshall was the last to be freed.

As the three wrestlers pulled the duct tape from around their mouths, Walker profusely apologized and promised an investigation would be launched. The investigation would be “inconclusive” as no independent evidence was found about the responsible parties other than the three wrestlers involved. Of course, the wrestlers they accused denied any knowledge of what happened, so it was a them vs. them contest.