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"Come on champ!" Freakshow cranks on the hammerlock, "Lets see some of that fire King Nothing!" The oily veteran mocks as Kelly pulls the both of them up to a standing position. Still holding tight to his opponents wrist, he takes a step back and yanks roughly. Aiming to rip cord the opposition back into facing him, then whirl around himself for a gnarly arm wrench!

Freakshow winces in girly fashion, his legs going wobbly as he leans down, gritting his teeth together as he's put in the murderous arm wrench. Clenching and unclenching his fist, he looks at the ropes before shaking his head, too far way. With pain shooting up his arm, he needed out, and he certainly wasn't going to get it done with a cartwheel.

Instead he keels over for a rather sad looking forward rolls to unscrew himself. On his back, like a turtle, he twists himself around to get his legs facing King. He hoped to trap the mans elbow between his shin and foot, an elbow that he'd in on fell motion attempt to hyperextend.

Freakshows eyes glint up as he see's King stagger to the corner. Smelling blood in the water, however faint that blood may be, he stomps towards his target. This was where he excelled, small joint manipulation, hooking, nothing that looked too pretty. He tries grabbing the opponent off the ropes with a cravat, using the maneuver to try guiding 2.0 to the middle of the ring.

"Alright ladies, get a look'a this!" Freakshow swivels his hips then slowly twists his wounded opponent around in position for a Hangmans Neckbreaker. Key word, position. In the mood for some more misdirection, rather than drop down on his a** to complete the neckbreaker, Freak would let go of 2.0's neck and instead reach back behind himself to hook both of The One True King's arms to lean forward for a backslide pin attempt.

Freakshow is much cleaner up to his feet. He blinks a few times at the kneeling 2.0, before something clicks in his head. Some fans, knowing what was about to come, yell out in warning to the fan favorite. The sneaky blonde takes one good step forward before launching himself towards Kelly King for one of his signature moves, a stiff rising knee strike to the head. The Freak Bomber!

It was far, far worse than he could possible imagine. His legs flopping out from under him, the short but brutal free fall straight into the unprotected mat. Freak had wrestled a lot of shitty, shitty shows on his way up, but he'd never been forced to wrestle on an unprotected mat. The added weight of the axe handle into his chest made matters much worse. A normal, sane person would likely be feeling empathy for what Kayla was put through, but this was Freak.

Immediately the Marauder sits up, eyes wide open, cheeks puffing out as he reaches for the ropes more than halfway out the ring. "Uuuuhaaaaghhh.." He whines, back arched out.

Freakshow futilely tries covering up his head as he's clipped with a flurry of shots! The match had broken down, the caution and tact of before temporarily out the window. He tries to turn it over but doesn't have the leverage, he tries to gouge at the eyes but can't get a clear path to them. All he finds himself able to do is huddle up until the hopefully conservative referee forces some separation off the closed fists. "Help!"