Welcome to Gaia! ::

The lights turn on. Freakshow is kneeling at the top of the ramp with an American Flag draped around his shoulders. Slowly standing up he turns around his hair freshly bleached his mustache immaculately trimmed and powdered with small specks of white dust. He raises his fist up into the air as the sound of bullets introduces Bruce Springsteen.



Holding the flag in his hand he walks down the ramp attempting to lead the fans in a rousing chant: "U.S.A! U.S.A!" Unfortunately the arena appeared to be packed to the brim with Communists. The impassioned cries fell on deaf ears, drowned out be the customary echo chamber of negativity that the arena became at any given moment wherein Freakshow made an appearance.


Winding up his lariat arm Freakshow swings around the ring post pumping his fist in the air screaming at the top of his lungs, "U.S.A!!" as he runs a full lap around the ring holding the flag up so as to leave it trailing behind him in the wind like a cape. He hoped that the spirit of Nationalism would propel him to new heights on this night where everything was at stake. His hair. His career in BBW, Or this particular town in BBW. Who knew what the logistics were. Either way. It was really really important. Important enough for Freakshow to take anabolic steroids.

Sliding into the ring the Marauder springs to his feet swiftly and stands up on the bottom rope leaning into the hard camera to deliver his message to Mad Dog McLennon even though he was really delivering his message to people watching him illegally on their anime streams or whatever it was that kids used to watch nationally televised backyard wrestling promotions.



He pulls at his crotch before blowing a bloody snot rocket straight in the camera. Turning around he grabs the referee assigned to the shirt by the collar. Shoving him hard against the ropes he backs up quickly into the opposite side before rebounding the hook the official with his signature crooked arm lariat.

"AXE BOMBA!"

Pure madness surging through his veins amongst other things the blonde whirls around upon execution of the move on the ref now left folded up in the middle of the ring. Spitting a loogie at him he immediately bakes a beeline for the female ring announcer, a ravenous look in his eyes as his gaze follows up and down her poorly concealed figure. Grabbing the brunette by the back of her neck he cups his ear to the audience gauging the partisan response while he winds his arm in preparation to cost the BBW some more sponsors.

Freakshow stares down McLennon from behind the protective shield of the lovely ring announcer. His eyes twitch a little. There was a strange atmosphere in the arena, the cultural relevance of a large crowd of people proudly hoisting the Stars & Bars in support of their hero against the prototypical Northeastern Yankee notwithstanding.

The moment Mad Dog reaches the top turnbuckle Freak gripping his hand around her neck violently launches her towards the ropes adjacent to the Hardcore Icon aiming to knock the bigger man off balance or at least temporarily disorient him.

Freakshow, shedding his nations banner from his shoulders, swallows hard. The strategy here differed from that of his opponents, the businessman was concerned merely with survival. Intent on taking full advantage of the precious time afforded him he quickly heads for the opposite side corner of the ring immediately focusing on the removal of the top turnbuckle pad.

Freakshow hunches into the corner working at unraveling the strings of the buckle until he is forced face first into the loosened padding! He bounces off flailing his arms backwards and tearing off the protective covering as he staggers backwards hitting the ground a** first! Looking up at the incensed McLennon he holds his hands up defensively, scooting backwards to the corner:

Freakshow more or less curls up into a small ball to avoid the continued stomps. After a few connect flush with his temple he clings to the bottom ropes flopping unceremoniously to the ringside area hitting the ground in a heap.

Just as Freakshow makes it to his feet the steel comes smashing down onto his spine! The wicked shot sends him careening towards the guard rail as failing to stop himself and in a half backed escape attempt he tumbles over the protective barrier into the first row. A microcosm of the entire arena, nobody in the first row liked Freak.

As Freakshow hits the ground hard with the only solace being a few beers conveniently next to the feet of several particularly vocal fans. At first with the intent of hydration the shaken veteran wraps his hand around the red solo cup. There were, however, more pressing matters than his thirst. Rather than consuming what would have turned out to be a light beer anyways Freak splashes the liquid out of the cup towards the eyes of McLennon mid motion.