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The crunching of steel, metal rending beneath the mess of colliding flesh as bell and chair amplify the shock of the impact while the weight of Three colliding with Draze tears the ladder in half leaving both men writhing in pain. Three rolled off of Draze, a blood stain covering the face of the now warped chair. He reached out hearing the chant of the crowd as only a faint roar in the ringing of his ears.

Three slowly starts to get up to his feet, he staggers slowly still hurting from the sick impact of man on steel on man on steel. Looking behind him he spots the trashcan he threw into the ring and turns right back to Draze trying to pull him up. With sluggish movements he attempts to hoist Draze onto his shoulders to plant him with his Fireman cutter so that Draze would land on the overturned aluminum trashcan.

Three was just about to plant the move when Draze slid off his shoulders and got a sleeper hold in before he could stop him. The body scissors clenched his ribs crushing his lungs as the sleeper made it hard for him to breath. Already weary and still hurting from the impact on the ladder Three collapsed to his side struggling to break free. An official got in close checking to see if Three was trying to tap, but each time he asked Three answered with a choking "No!"

After a few moments Three stopped responding to the official's questions, he was still and unmoving. The official reached for one of Three's arms and lifted it before letting it go; his arm dropped limp. The official held up a one count, and the crowd erupted into chant's of "Three" though it was easy to tell they were not cheering for a knock-out count but rather their DHW Blaze Champion.

The official lifted his arm a second time, and again it dropped; "TWO!!!" He called out. And again for a third time he lifted Three's arm, when he let go it hung there for a moment even seemed to drop a little. But then it shot up, not just out but up, fist clenched. He struggled again against Draze's hold and began throwing wild elbows behind him.

Three gasped for breath when Draze released him, allowing his airways to open again. His burning lungs cooled as fresh air filled them, but the relief was short lived, the world darkened and pain flared in his face as Draz's elbow collided with his nose. An audible pop heralded the outpouring of blood that now seeped from Three's nostrils.

Three heaves as he sucks air into his lungs quickly catching his breath. He can feel his nose is broken, but with Draze up and about he couldn't waste time on that. He looked up to see Draze going for the trash can and pushed himself to his feet. He was waiting for this moment; the spiced vodka he was holding in his mouth burned like hell. Three waited under the guise of being disoriented until Draze was coming at him; then all at once he would bring the sparker in bis trunks up and expell the vodka in a mist that would ignight into a ball of fire at Draze's face!

His plan had worked, and Draze was down, but he wouldn't get a reprieve for long. Three quickly bent down to pull Draze up to his feet so he could grab the trashcan and slam it down over his head and shoulders to try and trap Draze in the can. If he could get it on without Draze fighting him off he would try to shove Draze towards the ropes hoping to send him into a blind rebound.

When Draze rebounded off the ropes Three dropped down into a crouch. He was starting to feel light headed from the blood he was loosing, his nose still dripping blood down over his chest. When Draze got near enough Three would try to grab him by the waist and launch him up into the air. Draze was heavy, and Three worn out from the length and intensity of the match already, but he shoved with as much force as he could. If he could get Draze up he would stand and right as Draze, with trashcan in tow, started coming down to plant him with a european uppercut through the trashcan.