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Dienko turned around and saw Tyler was on the ground by the reason of his own stupidity, as he assumed. Dienko took this 'opportunity' and moved to Tyler's head before grabbing it and putting it between his legs, setting up for a powerbomb. He reached down and wrapped his arms around Tyler's waist and tried to lift him up. If Tyler couldn't resist, he could land a powerbomb.

Dienko saw the opportunity as he moved and rolled Tyler onto his arms and knees before he grabbed Tyler's head. He slowly raise him up and placed him into the set-up for the Devil's Drop underneath his left arm. He then grabbed Tyler's left arm and placed it around his neck before grabbing the hem of Tyler's Pants. He raised Tyler up and it looked like he was going to do a Vertical Suplex before he sent Tyler face-down while Dienko dropped onto his own a** to maximize the damage as much as he could.

((Wall of Text!))

The knee from Calypso struck home in Willy's sternum. The 281 pound Texan descended to the ground, his chest clutched by his right hand, as he winced. It was relatively early in the match, so Willy was far from dead, but the sharp point of a knee never truly can be comfortable for anyone. He came back to a vertical base, rather quickly, and watched his partner be taken up for a move Willy was mostly familiar with, the Gordbuster.

Tyler was risen into the air once more, this time for the Demon Drop, but Tyler wasn't going to just give up so easily. He readied himself to land on his feet to counter the move, but the added velocity of this variation, and Tyler's lack of experience would prove too much. Tyler did land on his feet, but the angle of the fall, the power of Dienko, Tyler soon found his back on the mat.

Something had gone horribly wrong. Blood began to seep from Tyler's tights, and a shout of pain could be heard through out the arena. The referee seeing the incident held up crossed arms to the back, and a ringside medic rushed in the ring. The arena grew quiet as the chaos ensued. Medics, stretchers, and more came from the back as Tyler laid in the ring, his femur having shattered from the botched landing. He tried to bring his hands to his legs, but the referee stopped him.

Willy rushed to his partner's side, "You're going to be alright, Tyler."

"The *beep* are you talking about?! My leg's *beep*ed. *beep*!" Tyler began shouting, his voice in a higher octave than previously. His breaths where rapid and deep, his eyes as wide as Jupiter. Tears began to roll down into his beard. "*Beep*!"

Willy didn't know how to respond. His partner's leg had been destroyed in an instant. A range of emotions went through him. Rage, sorrow, hatred, denial, and finally, what he settled with, guilt. In his mind, he knew that Tyler wasn't ready to wrestle, especially on such a big stage. He rose up from beside Tyler, who was still in shock, and began toward the back. He didn't want to see Tyler, not in the state he had created.

Tyler watched Willy walk away, but quickly barked at him, "Willy?! Where are you going?!"

Willy turned back to his friend, "The match is over, Tyler. We can't continue, not with you like-"

"Bull*beep*! This is elimination rules!", Tyler sharply retorted, "This is your dream, Willy. You always wanted to be a wrestler. So do your debut. Continue the match. If you just walk away, I'll have *beep*ed my leg for nothing."

Willy just looked at Tyler like he was some sort of idiot, which isn't too far off. "This isn't Mighty Ducks, Murphy. This is real *beep*ing life."

Tyler just looked back at him, slowly losing conscientiousness, "You better finish this match, Willy. This is your time." He then fainted from the blood loss, and trauma. The medics finally pulled him off and asked the competitors to step out side of the ring so that the mat could be cleaned for the card to continue.

The referee began to walk away from ringside, but Willy grabbed him. He turned him around and spoke, "Restart the match."

"What? After that?"

"Restart... Just restart the match." Willy, almost sounded unsure of himself for having said that. He knew Tyler could be a bit dramatic, altruistic, and just plain stupid, but asking him to continue a match where his partner all but has been maimed? He must be just as stupid. Willy walked to the ring announcer and grabbed a mic from him. "You folks came to see 13 matches. You are going to get those 13 matches. Clean that ring, grab some popcorn, get a soda because this one's for Tyler." He shoved the mic back into the announcer's face and waited for the clean up to be finished to continue against Calypso and Dienko after this freak accident.

When the bell for the match to start began, Dienko charged at Willy to clothesline him. But he was knocked onto his back from Willy's left lariat.

Willy had landed on his knees in between the pair after the Lariat. He decided to turn his attention to Dienko, the man who had ruined Tyler's leg. Willy rose back to his feet, walked over to Dienko's leg and tried to return the favor with a sharp stomp to the patella.

Willy didn't get the kind of strike he wanted on Dienko, but he did land a blow atleast. He went to pick up Dienko by the head, and lock him into a side head lock. If successful, he would jump up and down a bit in an attempt to apply more pressure on the neck, and follow it up, if he could, by slamming his opponent's head to the canvas with a bulldog.

(A bit of chain wrestling attempted here.)

Willy was tossed into the turnbuckle, the pads jumping into his sternum. He turned from the corner hold his chest, but now seeing Deinko still standing, he quickly went toward Deinko for a DDT.