The bandages affixed to Carlisle’s head have already been tainted by the crimson blood of his head wound he suffered from Buddy Bruiser putting him through a plane of glass moments ago. Despite this, the smartest man in XWA still radiates an aurora of supreme confidence, unfaltered by the challenge that stares him down from across the ring; the seven foot lunatic that goes by the pseudonym of Spyro the Clown. Slowly the clown licks the inside of his gums, his nostrils flaring, perhaps enticed by the smell of blood. Patiently he waits to be let loose at the sound of the bell his thirst for violence crying out to be quenched. The chimes ring out throughout the arena, enticing a chorus of cheers from the crowd as the Sex Brainiac goes straight on the offensive, perhaps reasoning that the best strategy for dealing with the mammoth maniac is to attack. He ducks underneath a clumsy left hook and wraps his arms around the waist of the adversary, locking his left wrist tightly in the grip of his right hand. The Englishman grabs a hold of James’ wrists and uses his superior strength to force him to break his hold, but wounded wrestler slips his wrists free and drops to the mat, hooking the inside of Spyro’s thigh and pulling him back, toppling the giant in a school-boy. The zebra-clad official drops to the mat to begin the count. [1] [2] and Patient #8994 powers out, kicking his legs up and forcing Carlisle into the air. The Calculator is as quick on his feet as he is witted and manages to adjust himself so he lands back first on the mat, The Ripper’s tree-trunk of a leg locked underneath his arm pit in a slightly modified heel hook. Mannibalecter claws at his head as the Brain Rapist ups the pressure of the hold. The pain shoots up the tendons of his leg and at numerous times he contemplates gnawing his own limb off to escape. He drops his head and shoulders onto the mat, thrashing about as if suffering a fit. The seven footer reaches out for the ropes, but even with his lengthy limbs he is more than half an arm’s span away from the glorious relief of a rope break. He looks down, his multi-coloured eyes locking contact with those of his aggressor. His upper lip curls as his forked tongue licks at his front two incisors, causing the Metrosexual Predator to raise an eyebrow, perhaps out of confusion but more likely due to suspicion of what the psychotic combatant has planned. Spyro brings his free leg up in the air and brings the heel of his boot down into the unprotected abdomen of his opponent. Hard. Carlisle’s body folds against his will, forcing him to sit upright and relinquish the submission hold applied to the leg of his nemesis. Spyro brings himself up to a seated position and in the same movement delivers a strong uppercut to JC’s chin, whipping his head back and laying him out on the mat. Something Wicked untangles the mess of limbs encapsulating his leg and begins to drag himself backwards out the way. He returns to a vertical base, shaking his leg, as a child shakes a toy to see if it’s broken, before putting any weight on it. As this occurred, the two hundred and fifty five pounder had begun to stir, first adjusting his blood-stained bandages that frame his cranium. He raises his legs into the air, pushing all of his weight up into his shoulders and places his hands either side of his head. Lurching his legs up and forward all the while pushing up on his hands he springs himself up, landing with both feet on the mat, though he does have to steady himself by placing one hand on the mat in front of him. He looks up and smirks at the giant, his expression telling everyone that he meant to do that little stumble. I mean, of course he knows how to do a kip-up… He knows everything there is to know. Both men begin to circle one another, Carlisle begins a clap which soon generates a following as he does so. As the claps quicken in pace so too does the footwork of the two men, leading to both going for a collar and elbow tie up, but again James exploits his obvious speed advantage and ducks underneath the lumbering frame of Spyro. This time, however, he takes the opportunity to showboat, pointing to his temple with his index finger to show he was using his brains. Upon turning around he is met with the arm of the asylum patient who delivers an explosive lariat to the cocky competitor.

Joey Miles: “You know, James Carlisle goes on and on about being the smartest man in XWA and maybe even the world, but it’s a pretty fucking dumb move to turn your back on any opponent in the ring. Never mind a big ass motherfucker like Spyro.”
Ted Cedar: “It may have backfired on Carlisle here, but mind games can be an effective strategy for sealing away your own victory in a match.”
Joey Miles: “Mind games relies on your opponent having a functioning fucking brain, a trait that this clown sorely lacks.”

From a grounded position, the Freakshow looks out into the crowd, his stare piercing through all that happen to be in its path. His lip curls up once again, revealing the slight decolourisation on his teeth as the two prongs of his split-tongue slither out from the wall of his gnashers and begin to fluidly flail around in the air. His head suddenly whips round to stare at the narcissist who is beginning to shake the cobwebs out after stiff lariat. Slipping across the mat, Spyro positions himself behind Carlisle and wraps his legs around the torso of the adversary. Much like a snake squeezing the life out of a wounded animal, the clown crushes Carlisle with his strong legs. The Sex Brainiac grimaces as he pushes down on the knees of his opponent, trying to gain himself some breathing room and a respite from the pressure. Not satiated with the torment the body scissors is delivering Captain Aberrant reaches out and grabs the shoulder of JC and drags his body backwards. Placing his left arm over the chest of his victim he hugs him close to his own bosom. Now showing his sinister side, the Split-Tongued Superstar delivers fist after fist to the top of the head of XWA’s best and brightest – the same spot where glass was removed from earlier in the night. Each blow causes Carlisle’s head to nod slightly and elicits a brief scream of pain as Spyro brutally attempts to beat the brains out of his opposition. The referee forces himself in the middle of the two, almost receiving a punch for his troubles, and breaks the wrestlers up. He marches the crazed colossus into a corner and goes to check on the beaten and bruised Carlisle who has a somewhat distant look plastered all over his face, his head bandages now skewwhiff. JC begins to climb the ropes, shaking the cobwebs out of his head as he does so. Both feet on the mat, though bent over and leaning on the middle rope James feels something lock round his waist. He looks down and sees that it is Spyro’s arms. He feels himself hoisted up into the air and the impact of his shoulders colliding with the mat after being lifted up and over the clown’s head sends shockwaves all the way up his spine. He arches his back as if the canvas itself was somehow burning his flesh as Terr sits in the centre of the ring chuckling to himself.

Ted Cedar: “That was a beautifully executed German Suplex on Spyro’s part. Through his size, power and – shall we say – odd mannerisms we often forget that he is actually a capable wrestler.”
Joey Miles: “Capable? Bozo the clown here’s been pinned more times than a picture of a pair of Doc Martens on Pinterest.”
Ted Cedar: “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about Joey.”
Joey Miles: “That’s ‘cause you’re fucking old. You need to keep up with the times Ted, like me. Joey stays fresh and never becomes stagnant, unlike half these kids we see in the ring nowadays.”

He rolls to his left onto his hands and knees and patiently waits for his prey to rise. He mimics each movement. When Carlisle takes a knee so too does Spyro. When Carlisle pushes himself up to a standing position, Spyro shadows him. His tongue flickers, his hands arms spread wide. The megalomaniac turns to face the mega maniac and takes a boot to the gut for his troubles, doubling him over and dropping him to a knee. The Crazed Clown takes a hold of The Calculator’s head and places it under arm. He lifts him up above his head and suspends him there, letting blood rush to his mummified head. Seconds pass before Spyro twists his hips and brings James Carlisle stomach first down onto the ropes. James hangs there, the open mouth and tightly closed eyes a perfect picture of pain. The Englishman wastes no time in steam training into the opposing ropes but on his rebound the Brain Rapist uses his quick thinking and rolls along the ropes and apron, narrowly avoiding the circus reject’s knee which incidentally slips between the middle and top rope. Spyro holds onto his loins, his face grimacing as he hung himself up on the middle rope. Sweat runs into the eyes of the narcissist and his cheek rests against the cool rubber of the ring ropes. He runs along the length of the apron and leaps off of it down to the ringside, placing an elbow into the side of the trapped knee on the way down. The referee begins his count as Carlisle grabs onto the ankle of the clown and pulls down, digging the cable into the underside of the opponent’s knee. This causes the monochromatic official to stop his count and begin anew to force the breaking of the hold. [1] [2] [3] [4] these numbers ring out in rapid succession before JC releases his grip. The clown hold onto his knee, but is yet to alleviate it of its bindings. Once more James pulls on the leg, using it as leverage to drag himself up on to apron. He places both hands on the top rope and leans back, creating torque in the cable. He uses this torque to catapult himself up and over the ring binding, twisting his body whilst airborne and grabbing onto Mannibalecter’s head, towing him down with him in a modified slingshot neckbreaker. Spyro’s head whips off of the mat, his leg remains tangled on top of the middle rope. His lungs can be seen to fill with and empty themselves of air as his chest rises and declines. The Metrosexual Predator buries his face into the joint of his elbow and trails his forearm across, trying to wipe the sweat from his eyes. He follows along the ring ropes and delivers a hard punt into his opponent’s exposed leg, causing Spyro to lurch up – his hands directed to his knee- and a cheer from the crowd; their fan favourite now in control of the match. James places a kick into the painted mug of The Butcher, knocking him back down before he unhooks the leg with ease. He places his hands on the uppermost rope and gives a glance over his shoulder. Numbers and formulas run through his head as he calculates the distance and trajectory of his next move. The corners of his mouth fold up into a small smirk as the answer is reached almost instantaneously. The Calculator turns and looks back to the crowd in front of him, vaulting up onto the top rope. For a millisecond he keeps his balance atop the wire walkway but then purposely drops to a seated position, bouncing the back of his thighs off of the cable and rebounding backwards in a flip, his chest landing atop the opponent’s. The arbiter slides to a better position to check the pinned superstar’s shoulders and begins his count. [1] [2] [3— centimetres away from the canvas the monochromatic official’s hand pauses and hovers, like he’s pushing down against some invisible object. The seven footer has managed to place his hand underneath the bottom rope, breaking the pin attempt (the sheer size of the man once again coming into play). Carlisle goes to his knees and places his hands on his hips. He shakes his head in disproval but then shrugs his shoulders as he pouts. After two quick strikes he elects to bring the larger man up to his feet, doing so with surprising ease. The Sex Brainiac delivers a European uppercut, his bicep connecting with the Englishman’s chin. This is followed up by another, but this time he latches his hand behind the Crazed Clown’s head. With the free arm he points around the arena before pointing at the nearest corner. The fans erupt into a cheer as they predict the beginning of the end. Short-stepped running whilst dragging the larger superstar behind him, James mounts the bottom turnbuckle and runs his way up them before backflipping off of the top. Time seems to slow as the six footer is suspended up above the clown before Spyro falls back, turning his body as he does so, once again bringing the man from I.Q. Heights stomach first down onto the ropes. Spyro grabs a hold of the wrappings around the cranium of Carlisle and pulls them down over the unfortunate soul’s eyes before steam training into the ropes. He rebounds, building up further momentum before driving his knee into the back of the Mind Rapist’s head and neck, causing him to unceremoniously slump down off of the ropes.

Joey Miles: “Fucking hell, I think I saw the brain cells fly out of the front of Carlisle’s skull after that knee!”

Spyro grabs Carlisle by the ankle with his right hand and drags him into the centre of the ring in one fluid movement, showing off the strength he still has after the match. Placing a gigantic foot on the rising and falling chest of his conquered opponent, Patient #8994 raises arms to the side and sticks his forked tongue out in triumph as the referee begins the count. [1] [2] [3]. As soon as the third number is called the Freakshow bends down and blasts the loser with a face full of Red Mist, much to the disgust of the crowd. He exits the ring, leaving behind the laid out James Carlisle surrounded by red staining on the canvas.