Marshall vs Wiley

 [This story is a "fill-in" story.  It takes place after Wiley vs The Executioner and before The Gauntlet matches with Marshall.   Hope you enjoy.]

Marshall vs Wiley

By

The Mangler

Marshall took a couple of deep breaths as he walked towards the curtain that would lead him into the auditorium and his first fight since throwing off the yoke of the Executioner and the Heel faction.  His opponent tonight, Wiley, was the wrestler who had brought him into the league but then had not only abandoned him but had helped the faction beat the crap out of him because Wiley felt he had not fulfilled his end of the bargain.

To his credit, Wiley had helped disband The Heel Faction with an unasked-for assist from Marshall.  To say Marshall had strong emotions going would be an understatement.  Some wondered if those emotions were mixed, but he would tell you they definitely were not.  Revenge and punishment were all that was on his mind.  Helping Wiley defeat The Heel Faction was revenge against the Faction.  It had nothing to do with Wiley. 

In the ring, Vinny, the ref, stood in the far corner, patiently awaiting the action.  The management knew this would be a “barn burner” of a match when the stadium had sold out quickly.  However, they wanted to give the audience an “honest” match to see where things would land between the two wrestlers, and not sure they could trust their in-house referees, they brought in an outsider.  But of course, that hadn’t worked quite as they had hoped the last time they did it (see The Gould Brothers Take Charge).  But they couldn’t say they were unhappy with the final results as it got butts in the seats and money in their pockets, and great anticipation for tonight’s fight.

Vinny stood 6’1” and weighed in at 190 well-developed pounds.  His tight striped shirt showed off his 46” chest and 18” biceps.  His torso tapered down to his 33” waist.  His pants showed off his well-developed quads and hinted at a well-packed package.   He had short blond hair with some silver scattered throughout.  It was hard to determine his age, but he obviously had some life experience behind him.  He started as a pro wrestler but switched to refereeing after a series of minor injuries as he aged but he still wrestled, just not in the “big” leagues.  He had a reputation as a very honest and fair ref but wasn’t willing to take shit from any wrestler.

He and Wiley were good friends, and they sparred often.  Vinny had informed Wiley that he wasn’t a big fan of his actions with the Marshall Brothers tag team match, and Wiley told him that he didn’t care as he did what he had to do. Vinny neglected to tell management about this friendship as he felt it would not affect the upcoming match; he would referee a fair match regardless of the results. 

“Our first combatant for tonight’s main event is our ever-lovable Wiiiillleeyy.”

Wiley wore lime green wrestling trunks, matching boots, and white knee pads. He bounced on his feet and looked anxious as he headed to the ring. He ignored the cheers from the crowd.  After reaching the ring and climbing in, he underwent a ‘foreign body’ check by Vinny before he turned and faced the back of the stadium.  

“And now, entering the arena, we have the newly freed Marshall “Loser” Gould,” the announcer’s voice rang out.

Marshall pushed the curtains aside and entered the arena to mainly loud cheers and applause. The crowd was cheering Marshall on just as they had cheered his opponent. They were on his side, at least for tonight, but Marshall’s relationship with the crowd was volatile, to say the least. Marshall mainly ignored the crowd as he was laser-focused on the man in the ring.

About halfway down the aisle, Marshall suddenly broke into a run, and slid, belly first, under the bottom rope only to be met by a charging Wiley who began to rain stomps down onto his shoulders and back.  After the third such stomp, Marshall rolled onto his back and grabbed Wiley’s foot as the next stomp came his way.  He twisted the ankle while sliding his body sideways on the mat so that he took out the other leg of Wiley, dumping him onto the mat.

Marshall hung onto the foot as he quickly regained his feet before dropping a pointed elbow into Wiley's upper thigh. When Marshall hit the mat, Wiley grunted with the blow to his thigh but placed his other foot on Marshall’s shoulder and pushed as hard as he could. Marshall slid across the mat. Both Wiley and Marshall quickly got to their knees and then warily got to their feet.

As expected, this was going to be a rough-and-tumble match, so Vinny made no effort to come between the two men. He knew any attempt to talk to them calmly was out of the question, so he motioned for the bell attendant to ring the bell to officially start the match. The crowd was cheering and screaming, knowing they were in for one hell of a match, but most were confused about who they were really rooting for.

While they had cheered Marshall's destruction at the hands of 5 other wrestlers, they were impressed with his resilience and wondered what his comeback would be like.  The crowd usually loved Wiley, as he was one of the good guys, except for his help in destroying Marshall.  But since then, he had been back on the straight and narrow path and helped disband the Heel Faction.  So, most were leaning toward him but also felt that maybe he deserved some retribution from Marshall.  Audience feelings were not static and were going to shift all over the place tonight.

The two wrestlers suddenly charged at each other with an arm extended, going for a clothesline.  The result was a mutual clotheslining of each other.  They both hit the mat, landing flat on their backs.  Wiley attempted to return to his feet, but Marshall rolled over, landed on top of Wiley, and sat on his abs.  He began throwing a series of fists to the head and neck of Wiley, while Wiley threw his hands up to try and protect himself.

“No fists, no fists,” the ref screamed at Marshall.

“Go fuck yourself,” Marshall responded.

As the blows continued to rain down, Wiley dropped his right hand, made it into a fist, and slammed it into Marshall’s crotch, striking his cock and balls. 

“No low blows,” Vinny cautioned, but the punch took the wind out of Marshall’s sails, and his punches became ineffective.  Wiley reached up and grabbed each side of Marshall’s head and pulled down at the same time he jerked his head up.  The two foreheads slammed into each other, with Marshall taking more of the effect as he was unprepared for the move.  He grunted and rolled off Wiley. 

Wiley slid away from Marshall before getting to his knees.  He noted that Marshall was still struggling trying to regain his senses.  Wiley hopped to his feet and stepped toward Marshall before dropping a leg drop across his upper chest, winding him.  He grabbed Marshall’s wrist, placed both his legs on Marshall’s side, and yanked outward on the arm, pulling the shoulder joint away from the body.

This was not a submission hold but a delaying tactic so Wiley could regain equilibrium. But Marshall wasn’t just going to play dead. He managed to lift himself to his knees with his arm stretched out. He brought his knees off the mat so that he was on his tiptoes and leaped upward toward Wiley. Wiley’s feet slid from Marshall's side, and Marshall continued until he partially landed on Wiley's chest.

Wiley grunted as Marshall’s weight landed on him, and his grip on the wrist weakened.  Marshall was able to yank his arm free and quickly wrapped that arm around Wiley’s head and locked it in a side headlock.  Wiley maneuvered himself up to his knees, and with supreme effort, he pushed himself to a standing position and dropped backward, taking Marshall with him in a modified suplex.  The landing stunned both of them, and they rolled away from each other before slowly regaining their feet.

During this series of events, the ref stood in a neutral corner with his elbows on the top rope.  He had decided to stay out of this match as much as possible other than to count a pin or accept a submission.  He would only try to enforce significant rule violations.  And even then, he wasn’t going to be too insistent.

The two wrestlers glared at each other as they slowly rotated around the ring.  Suddenly, Marshall leaped up and slammed both feet into Wiley’s chest in a standing drop kick.  This knocked Wiley back where he rebounded off the ropes.  Marshall had dropped to the mat and raised both legs so that Wiley ran stomach first into the feet, where Marshall pushed upwards and forward, somersaulting Wiley over his head who landed back first on the mat.  He slid toward the ring edge but stopped just short of the ropes.

Marshall dropped a leg drop across the upper chest before kneeling next to Wiley and delivering a series of axe handles across the pecs.  He rose to his knees and pulled Wiley with him by a hank of hair.  Once on his feet, he locked Wiley in a bear hug and lifted him before spinning around and dropping him to the mat in a belly-to-back suplex.  Both wrestlers bounced.

Marshall rolled Wiley to his stomach before grabbing his ankles, bending his legs, and locking them under his armpits. He adjusted so that he was sitting on the back, finally locking in a Boston Crab.

The ref walked over to ask Wiley if he wished to submit, not expecting a yes.  His expectations were met when Wiley yelled, “Hell, fucking no.” 

Marshall bounced up and down to increase the pressure on the back while Wiley exhaled with each bounce.  Using his hands and forearms, Wiley was able to crawl enough that he was able to get his hand on the bottom rope.

“Break the hold,” the ref demanded.

“Why?” Marshall inquired.

“Because he is in the ropes,” the ref replied.

Marshall lifted off the back and then took two steps toward the center of the ring, dragging Wiley with him and forcing him to release the rope.

“Well, he isn’t in the ropes now,” Marshall said as he sat back down.

“But he was, so break the hold, NOW,” the ref screamed before he began his five counts.

Marshall stood partially up and released the ankles, letting Wiley drop to the mat.  As soon as Wiley was free, Marshall dropped onto the lower back, grabbed the legs, and re-applied the crab.

“Happy now?” Marshall asked.

“Yep, I am,” was the reply.

Marshall returned to bouncing and pulling up on the hold.  Summoning all his strength, Wiley did a push-up from the mat while simultaneously kicking his legs away from him.  This managed to off-balance Marshall enough that he fell forward onto the mat.  Wiley quickly rolled over and sat up on Marshall’s abs before slamming two forearms across his pecs.  He disentangled himself and stood up, driving two stomps into the abs as he did so.

Marshall rolled over and out of the ring, dropping to the arena floor.  The ref quickly stepped in front of Wiley to prevent him from exiting the ring.  Wiley threw his hands up in the air and began backing away before turning and running to the opposite ropes.  He grabbed the top rope and used it to leverage himself over it, dropping to the floor.  He ignored the ref’s admonishment and charged around the ring to Marshall on the other side.

As he rounded the last ring post, he was met by a spear from Marshall, which drove him backward. He slammed back first into one of the dividing barriers, and it moved back about one foot from the force of the impact.   Marshall quickly pulled him to his feet, grabbed a wrist, and whipped him so his lower back impacted the ring edge.  As his back hit the ring, Wiley grunted and stumbled forward, where he was picked up by Marshall and dropped across his knee in a backbreaker.

Marshall pulled Wiley back up, turned, and deposited him on the ring apron.  He quickly slid under the bottom rope just as the ref hit the nine count.

“Keep the damned action in the ring,” the ref yelled as he got into Marshall’s face.  Marshall sidestepped him, bent over, and grabbed Wiley by the arm before pulling him under the bottom rope and back into the middle of the ring, where he rolled Wiley to his front, grabbed both ankles and locked on another Boston crab sitting high up on the back so that he could get the most leverage and concentrating the pain in the lower back.   Wiley grunted and slammed his palm down onto the mat.

“Do you wish to submit?” the ref inquired.

“Fuck no,” was the pained response. 

With the ref at Wiley’s head, Marshall, uncharacteristically, took the opportunity to release one leg before slamming the free fist into Wiley’s balls twice before re-hooking the leg.

“Fuck, shit,” Wiley screamed as the first fist impacted his nuts.  “My balls, goddamned it, ref, my balls!”

The ref moved to where he could see Marshall’s hands which were both still locked onto the legs.

“Did you hit him in the nuts?” the ref asked.

“Of course not.  You know I don’t play that way,” Marshall said with a look of innocence on his face.

The ref wasn’t buying it but had seen nothing, so he could not respond.  Marshall suddenly dropped both legs to the mat, stood up, and then dropped back down, slamming his ass into Wiley’s lower back.  He returned to his feet and drove a forward kick between Wiley’s legs, slamming into the balls.

The ref was immediately in his face.  “Watch the damn low blow,” he screamed as he pointed his finger at Marshall.

Marshall responds by throwing his hands up to the side of his face and forming his mouth into a circle, assuming the ‘home alone’ pose, as he says, “Oh, no, I’m sorry, my mistake.”  He then laughs.  Wiley had dropped his hands to his crotch and rolled over onto his side.

Marshall reached down, grabbed Wiley’s ankles, and rolled him onto his back, spreading his legs wide.  He dropped a leg down between the spread legs.  Wiley screamed as his balls were mashed again.

“I’m warning you, watch the low blows,” the ref screamed in frustration.

Marshall ignored him as he grabbed a handful of hair and pulled Wiley to his feet with great difficulty.  Once he had him standing, he slipped his arm between the legs and lifted Wiley before dropping him into a body slam.  He repeated this move twice while the ref mildly rebuked him for the hair-pulling.

The last time he lifted Wiley, he body slammed him so that his head was near the ring post.  He exited the ring, grabbed Wiley’s wrist, and pulled him partially under the ropes, where he began slamming his bicep and shoulder into the ring post repeatedly.  He continued until the ref neared a ten count when he slid back into the ring and pulled Wiley to the center.  He began a series of kicks and stomps to the abused bicep and shoulder.

The ref pushed him back to give Wiley a breather.  Marshall walked around the ref, yelling at him not to interfere, as he approached his opponent so his head was turned to the side.   Marshall turned his head back toward Wiley just as he pulled both legs up to his chest and kicked out, slamming both feet into Marshall’s lower abs, knocking him backward.  As Marshall went backward, he slammed into Vinny, pushing him back into the corner.  Wiley rolled to his side and regained his feet, staggering back into the opposing corner where he draped both arms over the top rope and sagged downward.

Vinny yelled about hitting a ref, although he knew it was inadvertent and Marshall ignored him as he shook off the feet to the abs and stalked toward the corner where a rung-out Wiley hung.   When he was near the corner, Wiley dropped his hands to his side and, using the power of his thighs, leaped from the corner, driving his left shoulder into Marshall’s front, spearing him backward.  He wrapped his hands around Marshall’s waist and continued chugging with his legs until Marshall slammed into Vinny, who was just stepping out of the corner.  The force of the blow trapped Vinny between Marshall and the turnbuckle, knocking the air out of his lungs.

Wiley lifted Marshall slightly into the air, turned, and dropped him in a belly-to-back suplex to the mat, with Wiley’s total weight dropping down on top of him. Wiley could feel Marshall’s breath whooshing across his back.  Looking up, Wiley noted that the ref was still out of position, so he brought his right knee up, hard, between Marshall’s legs, slamming into his balls.  He did this twice in rapid-fire mode.

“Aaahh, my balls, my nuts,” Marshall screamed.

“Did you hit him in the balls?” Vinny huffed as he staggered out of the corner, trying to regain his breath. 

“Of course not,” Wiley replied.  “I would never HIT him in the balls.” 

“He’s lying,” Marshall moaned.

As Vinny hadn’t seen anything, he couldn’t say anything.  However, he noticed Wiley's knee was pushed up against the pelvis, so he ordered Wiley to get off Marshall, who responded by removing his knee and standing up.  Marshall reached for his groin and rolled to his side.

Wiley grabbed Marshall by the hair and pulled him to his feet.  He placed his arm between Marshall’s legs, lifted him, and delivered a body slam to the mat.  He repeated this move twice more before he turned Marshall onto his chest and delivered several stomps to the lower back, then dropping his ass down on the back. He grabbed the chin and pulled upward before locking both arms over his knees, locking him in a Boston Crab.

“See how it feels,” he said to Marshall.  Looking at Vinny, he said, “Ask the little pussy if he wishes to submit?”

“Not a fucking chance,” Marshall grunted out before Vinny could say anything causing Wiley to lean back, therefore pulling Marshall’s chin and upper body upward and increasing the pressure on his back.

Marshall loudly grunted as he pulled both arms off Wiley’s knees and placed his palms flat on the mat.  He took a deep breath before he began to push upward with his arms and pull his legs toward his upper body.  This lifted Wiley until Marshall was on his hands and knees.  Wiley countered by raising his ass and slamming it back down, forcing Marshall to drop back down into the crab.

Wiley leaned forward so that his mouth was near Marshall’s right ear and whispered, “Piss-poor attempt pussy boy.  But better than I would have anticipated from a wimp like you.”

Marshall responded by reaching across with his left arm and raking across Wiley’s eyes.  When Wiley went to pull his head backward, Marshall jerked his head backward, slamming it into Wiley’s chin.  Wiley dropped the crab and rolled to the right side.  Marshall rolled left to get distance between the two wrestlers.

Both wrestlers slowly returned to a standing position and began to circle each other.

“Why don’t you save yourself some pain and give up pussy boy?” Wiley taunted.  “You know you were born to be a submissive little bitch, so just give in to it.  Again,” he sneered.

“Well, I’ll never be your submissive little bitch, unless you cheat again, with a little help, since you aren’t man enough to do it by yourself,” Marshall responded as the two locked into a collar and elbow.  They began to push and shove each other, trying to attain an advantage.

Marshall was keeping track of exactly where they were in the ring.  When in the correct position, he suddenly jerked Wiley to the left, slamming him into Vinny, who had gotten too close to the action.  This knocked Vinny backward, and his momentum carried him into the turnbuckle.  He recovered quickly but rubbed his lower back as he approached the action.

The move had broken Wiley’s concentration, and Marshall took advantage and twisted, pulling Wiley to the mat with a hip toss.  Wiley had no sooner hit the mat than Marshall dropped down with a shoulder smash into the abs.  He immediately turned, stretched out Wiley’s right arm, and drove a series of knees into the biceps.  After the last knee, still holding Wiley by the wrist, he slammed his knee up into the axilla, stretching out the ligaments in his right shoulder.  He repeated this twice before releasing his opponent.

Wiley’s left hand reached up to massage his right shoulder.  Marshall dropped and sat behind Wiley, placing each leg around Wiley’s waist.  He grabbed his opponent’s wrists in his hands, pulling the arms backward and upward and pushing forward.  This applied intense pressure to both shoulders and forced Wiley to bend forward to try and relieve some of the pain.

Marshall released both wrists and wrapped his arms around Wiley’s head in a sleeper hold, cinching down as much as possible.  Wiley responded by throwing elbows blindly backward into Marshalls’ sides.  Marshall managed to ignore the elbows at first, but the cumulative blows began to take effect.  He released his legs from around Wiley’s trunk and pulled them back.  He released the sleeper, rose to his feet, and pulled Wiley with him.  He turned so they were back-to-back, reached over his shoulder to grab Wiley by the head, and dropped into a neck breaker.

He forcibly pulled Wiley to his feet, grabbed him by the hair at the back of his head, and dragged him over to the corner, where he repeatedly smashed his forehead into the turnbuckle until Vinny reached the five-count. When he released the hair, Wiley staggered backward into the middle of the ring, where Vinny had to backpedal to avoid the wrestler.  Marshall delivered a standing dropkick, forcing Wiley into the opposite corner.   Unfortunately, Vinny was between Wiley and the corner, so he took much of the blow.  However, the back of  Vinny’s head impacted the top of Vinny’s skull, stunning them both.  Wiley slid down until he was sitting on the ring floor.

Ignoring Vinny,  Marshall grabbed both ankles and pulled him back to the middle of the ring.  He placed Wiley’s thighs around his head, wrapped his arms around his back, and stood up, placing Wiley on his shoulders before he delivered a powerbomb, slamming Wiley’s head and shoulders onto the ring mats.

Marshall slipped under the bottom rope, reached in, grabbed Wiley's right arm, and pulled it under the bottom rope. He then repeatedly slammed his shoulder into the ring edge.

“Get the action back in the fucking ring,” Vinny yelled at Marshall as he began a count out.  When Vinny reached a count of eight, Marshall rolled back into the ring.

“I’m in the ring now,” Marshall announced before rolling back out.  “I’m not in the ring now,” he mocked Vinny.

He pulled Wiley out of the ring, wrapped his arms around his waist from the back, and lifted him up and over, slamming him in a suplex to the thin mats around the ring.  He repeated this move four times before sliding back into the ring.

Vinny was immediately screaming at him.  “If you don’t stay in the ring, I’m going to disqualify your ass,” he yelled.

“Whatever, dude,” Marshall yelled as he slipped out of the ring again.  “Your pal wants you back in the ring,” Marshall shouted at Wiley as he pulled him up and slid him under the ropes.  Wiley wasn’t making much of an effort to do anything.

“He’s back in the ring. Are you happy now?” Marshall asked Vinny.

“Just follow the rules,” Vinny replied.

Mumbling under his breath but loud enough for Vinny to hear, Marshall said, “I fucking hate failed wrestlers as refs.”

Marshall failed to see Vinny's murderous look as he pulled Wiley to his feet, slipped his arm between his legs, and inverted him before dropping his right shoulder on his left knee. Instead of letting him fall to the mat, he stood back up and dropped him onto the knee twice more.

After the last move, he let Wiley drop to the mat but quickly pulled him back to his feet.  He pulled the right arm behind Wiley’s back, using the wrist to push the arm as high up the back as it would go.  He placed his hand under Wiley’s elbow and lifted Wiley off the mat so that all his weight was applied to the right shoulder.

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK,” Wiley screamed as the pain exploded across his shoulder.

“Do you want to submit?” Vinny asked. 

Before he could answer, Marshall released Wiley, dropping him back to his feet.  He immediately wrapped his arms around the waist, lifted, and fell backward in a suplex.  In addition to hitting his head and upper back, Wiley landed on his arm, still trapped behind him.  He bridged up to relieve the pain, only to be met by a stomp to the abs, forcing him back to the mat and onto his trapped arm.

Marshall pulled Wiley into a sitting position and dropped onto his thighs until the wrestlers were chest to chest.  He took his right arm, reached over Wiley’s left shoulder, and grabbed the right wrist, pulling the arm up the back and pulling Wiley into him.  It almost looked like lovers embracing.  It sure as hell didn’t feel like a lover's embrace to Wiley as Marshall used his left hand to push the elbow and arm upward, concentrating incredible pain in Wiley’s shoulder.

“I really should just dislocate and destroy this shoulder after the betrayal and setup you fucking did to me,”  he whispered into Wiley’s ear as he increased pressure in both directions, eliciting Wiley's loud scream of pain.

“Do you wish to submit?” Vinny asked again.  Hearing Marshall’s comment Vinny was seriously considering stopping the match.

Before he could, however, Marshall continued, “Fortunately for you, I’m not quite the motherfucking dickhead that you are.”  He then released the elbow and wrist, placed both hands on Wiley’s upper chest, and shoved as hard as he could, causing Wiley to slam the back of his head into the mat while also landing on his trapped arm.

“Why don’t you end this,” Vinny whispered.

“Because asshole here has earned himself some fucking payback,” Marshall sneered.

He pulled Wiley up and delivered another series of shoulder breakers, each earning a grunt of pain.

The crowd was booing at Marshall but without a lot of emotion behind it.  Although they liked Wiley and had ambivalent feelings about Marshall, they also realized that Wiley’s own actions had led to this point but they felt enough was enough.

After the last shoulder breaker, Marshall gave the crowd a double bicep pose, followed by the double finger. After some boos, he pulled Wiley to a sitting position before locking him in a dragon sleeper, arching his back as much as possible.

Realizing that he was going to be put out and not able to counteract the move, Wiley began to tap out on Marshall's bicep.  Vinny turned to the ring attendant and signaled for the bell.  As the bell was being rung, he turned to Marshall.

“You won; the match is over; release the man.”

“What?” Marshall asked, cupping his free hand to his ear.

“I said release him,” Vinny yelled.

Marshall looked at him as if he were some alien creature. Meanwhile, Wiley’s taps were getting weaker and weaker.

Vinny grabbed Marshall by the bicep and got directly into his face. 

“I said release the man before I reverse the decision and disqualify you.”

“Do what you’ve got to do, asshole.  But remember, I don’t forget or forgive anything,” Marshall sneered.

Just as Vinny started to signal for a reversal, Marshall felt Wiley’s body relax as he slipped unconscious.  Marshall smiled as he dropped him to the mat.

“Happy now, I’ve released your boy?” Marshall asked as he stood.

Vinny said nothing as he grabbed Marshall’s wrist and raised it, signaling his victory.  There was a mixture of cheers and boos, but mainly boos, but Marshall just smiled.

Vinny released Marshall’s hand and went over to check on Wiley.  Marshall made one more turn to the crowd before he started to exit the ring.  Turning back to look at Wiley, he changed his mind.  With Vinny kneeling beside Wiley and looking toward his face, he failed to register Marshall approaching until Marshall reached down and started untying Wiley’s trunks.

“What the fuck you doing?” Vinny asked as he turned toward Marshall.

“Just getting a little payback,” Marshall responded as he stripped Wiley out of his trunks and down to his jockstrap.  Vinny elected to do nothing to interfere, instead allowing Marshall to blow off some steam.  Marshall used his foot to tap Wiley in the balls as he twirled the trunks above his head.

“Karma is a mothing fucking bitch,” he said to Vinny and a still out of his Wiley.  He then turned and exited the ring, still waving the trunks.  When he got about halfway up the aisle, he turned and looked at the ring where a groggy Wiley was slowly coming to.  He sighed loudly as he turned and headed back to the ring tossing the trunks into the crowd as he did so.

Under his breath, he mumbled, “I fucking hate being the good guy sometimes.”

When he reached the ring, he reached under the ropes, grabbed both of Wiley’s ankles and pulled him underneath the bottom rope. This occurred so quickly that Vinny didn’t have time to try to stop him, but he quickly slid under the ropes.

“The match is over. Leave him the fuck alone,” Vinny screamed as he approached Marshall. 

“Oh, shut the goddamned fuck up and grab an arm,” Marshall said as he threw Wiley’s right arm across his shoulder and tried to hold him upright.  Wiley screamed as the shoulder hit Marshall’s.  Wiley staggered a little when pulled upright, increasing the pain in his shoulder.  Seeing what was happening, Vinny grabbed the left arm and placed it across his shoulder.

Marshall and Vinny helped a woozy and jockstrapped Wiley up the aisle and back to the locker room to the crowd's cheers.  Marshall made sure it was a slow walk.  Once Wiley was sitting on a bench, Marshall released him to Vinny’s care and went and took a quick shower.

As he was headed back to his locker to dress, Vinny looked over and said, “Why’d you help him after beating the crap out of him?”

“Because I am a fucking idiot, is why.  I should have given him the post-match beating he deserved and just left his naked ass in the ring.  But that would mean I had sunk to his level and haven’t gotten there yet.”

“I wouldn’t have allowed that,” Vinny snarled.

Marshall stepped up until he was looking Vinny in the eye.  “You couldn’t have fucking stopped me if you wanted to.”  With each word, he jabbed a finger into Vinny’s chest.  Vinny stood his ground and didn’t say a thing.

Marshall started to exit but turned back to look Vinny in the eye.  “But that doesn’t mean I don’t get revenge where it is needed.”

“What that’s supposed to mean?” Vinny asked.

“Don’t think I don’t know your and Wiley’s past and that the worthless powers to be put you in the ring to protect him.  But I still managed to get past that and give the asshole what he deserved.”

Vinny took a step closer to Marshall. “I wasn’t put in the ring to protect anybody. I was put in the ring to ensure everyone followed the rules and had a fair match.”

Marshall laughed.  “You must really think I am an idiot.  Too bad you didn’t get further beat up in the ring.”  He winked at Vinny as he turned and left the locker room.

“You ARE a goddamn idiot,” Vinny replied to the closing door. “You just made an enemy when you didn’t need to.”  Vinny turned back to minister to Wiley, who finally appeared to be returning to reality as he lay on the bench groaning.