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The Punk was heaved to his feet by the slicked back locks, causing a growl to erupt from within his throat. The man was carelessly thrown back into the barricade before he could retaliate though, causing him to flip over and land on the inner mats with a rough thud. His arms shot up hold his head, now ringing with unparalleled headaches.

This wasn't going good.

The Black Stars were spinning around in Shanahan's head as he began to rise. Blurred vision took over as he made his way to his feet, his eyes searching for his opponent once more...

... And there he was, right in front of him, charging for the God of Punks! Adrenaline kicked in, and suddenly Shanahan was seeing better. He was thinking clearer. And best of all, he was reacting faster.

Once Chrono came in close quarters to ram Matt, he would attempt grab hold of the charging man and use his momentum against him, aiming to lift him high into the and over his back, hoping for some make-shift suplex onto the steep steps instead!

Seconds after Matt had landed on the ground, he was back up on his feet. The adrenaline was pumping, the crowd was in mild shock, and somewhere in the world, a waitress had just went a night without a tip. Shanahan was about to go on a power-trip.

With Chrono on the steel steps, Matt quickly took a step back to observe the situation. One would think he'd take a moment to think over his plot, but he didn't. Instead, he ran at Chrono and used the first step as a boost to leap up above his fallen opponent, and attempt a leg drop to squash the man's head between the steps and Shanahan's thick leg!

While the move had made it's mark, it defintely put the hurt on Shanahan's glorious behind. He couldn't help but hold his lower back as he stood, giving himself a brief moment to let the pain die while he watched his opponent on the ground.

"... Who's breaking who, amigo? Oh wait!... I think I broke you!" Shanahan joked with a victorious snicker, but he knew this was far from over. And since they were already out of the ring, they might as well keep the show going for the fans!... Right?

That's when Matt's eyes landed on the announcer's table. Yes, that would do just fine! The God of Punks turned to stare out at his adoring public for but a second before he began to tear the equipment off of the table and throw the equipment aside. The referee's count was nearing it's end, and Matt couldn't be bothered to care; tonight wasn't about winning anymore.

Once Shanahan had finished tearing all the important equipment out of the announcer's table, he took a moment to turn and stare out at his adoring public, cheering him on to finish his plan. It was a sensation he hadn't felt in years, and he was loving it.

Without another moment's hesitation, Matt walked to where his opponent was laid out... And picked up the entire set of steel steps instead, heaving them over to sit in front of the announcer's table with a loud thud. If he had managed to get them over in place before Chrono could recover, it would then be time for Matt to turn this his fellow God and attempt to yank him up by the hair.

... If that were successful, he would attempt to lift Chrono up sideways into his arms. Lotta stuff happening here.

Shanahan's big plans were put on hold, as Chrono seemed to take a page from Landry's old playbook. Yes, the foot connected, sending the God of Punks to the ground once more holding his precious twins!

It seemed that the God of Punks was having a rough return to the ring tonight. His attempt to make an impact was thwarted, as he was lifted up onto he steps, and driven straight through the announcer's table by his fellow God! As the table collapsed, so did Shanahan for a moment. A sharp groan of pain echoed from his throat as his hands immediately shot back to grab onto his back.