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Freakshow follows Landry over. Upon arriving back at the ringside area, Freak spots a nearby cameraman. He turns towards him, and does a quick Fargo/Flair strut, then flexes his bicep a little, "Boooyah..." He smirks, winking, "This is where the power lies.." He says before turning back to focus his attention on the wounded, but still dangerous Innovator.

Freakshow storms up to the game Landry, here the southpaw would attempt pushing him against the steps, and teeing off at his skull with a series of hard closed fist lefts. "Ungh!" The champion would grunt dramatically after each shot. He'd follow up by grabbing him by the head to help the challenger up to his feet, from here he'd be able to more easily try rolling him into the ring.

Freakshow follows Landry in. He slides himself back into the corner behind Mike and crouches down, fist to the ground. It'd been a long match, at this point roughly over the twenty minute mark. Freak was ready to end this. He grabs both ropes, leaning in and out of the corner, again, "Get up.. Get up.." He mutters under his breath giving Landry the space to do so.

Freakshow pulls himself up and edges ever closer to Landry as he attempts to find his way up. He squats low, still muttering to himself, "C'mon.." The champ edges from side to side, grinning nervously, getting impatient, trying to find the right angle to pounce on Landry when he got up. He was practically foaming at the mouth in anticipation to put his rival away. If he could beat him, he could beat anyone. He felt as if he was on the brink of achieving total satisfaction as a performer.

Once the challenger got to his feet, Freak would make a throat cutting motion, as if to signify that it was over, then he would grab Landry by the wrist, spin him around, and duck under his arm. Once he had him hooked, the champion would try planting the challenger to the floor with a 2.0ver.

The audience lets out a chorus of boo's as Freak hooks Landry in the uranage position and nails the 2.0ver! A tad bit sloppy? Yes, but it did the job, and was quite insulting. The champion lands on his unpadded knees and left forearm. He rolls off to his back, before quickly recovering and diving on the opponent for a pin attempt.

But whether his opponent kicked out of the move or not was inconsequential, Freak would, in the middle of the count, grab Landry by the hair and yank him up, forcing his opponents shoulders up off the ground, a technical kickout..

A twisted, deprived look crosses the face of the champion. He wipes at his nose with the tape on his wrists. Slowly his head turns towards the announce table, he looks at it quizzically as if remembering something. The champion lets go of Landry's hair and puts both hands to the ground, pushing himself up. The sleazy new yorker stands up, he takes a moment to get his balance.. Slowly he limps over to the apron, where a cameraman was standing..

Freak stares into the lens, tongue snaking out the side of his mouth, eyes wide and red. "...Matthias.. Heh heh.." He says, his voice ragged and sardonic in tone, "Boy, I hope some day..," He turns towards Landry, pointing at him , before turning back towards the camera, "You see this.." He winks at the camera before backing away, and heading for the ropes near the announce table..

Freakshow stops midway through the ropes, he raises an eye brow, looks towards Landry, then backs into the ring. The champion strolls towards his opponent and stands over him, as if about to apply a camel clutch. He reaches down, once again grabs a handful of hair, and tries throwing more left hands, aimed at the forehead/hairline area. These would start out as slow and measured shots, eventually picking up with greater frequency... The champion had something in mind.. He was wearing his opponent down for it..

Freakshow wrings his hand out, he could've jammed a finger from all that punching. He staggers forward off the opponent, back towards the ropes, taking his time. Through them he goes. The champion takes a seat on the apron and leans back into the ropes, taking a moment to rest before dropping off to the ringside floor.

He heads for the announce table, his steps zig zagging in his condition. While he, by a large margin, had the advantage, the man had still taken a lot of punishment. A few finishers, weapon attacks, etc. Once he keels over once arriving at the desk. He places his forearms against the top of it for support. Onlookers seemed baffled by his intentions. If he wanted to put the fan favorite through it, why didn't he take Landry to the outside with him?

After a moments rest, he takes a knee and grabs at the underside of the table, attempting to flip it over, the commentators scatter out of the way.