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[h1][color=wheat]GETHIN RHYS VS CHAD 2 BADD[/color][/h1]
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The Staples Centre descended into darkness as the lights went black. This could be a prelude to the entrance of many of the AWE’s finest in ring performers. Yet when the unmistakable [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K9QqIFQpUp4]retro synth beat[/url] began to bleed into the arena through the speakers, it meant only one thing; Gethin Rhys was coming. Purple flames began to rise across the titantron before the Welsh Dragon’s name appeared in cursive. The dull blue spotlight effortlessly blended with the 80’s neon to reveal the chiselled human torture device standing atop the stage. There was no flash Rhys; his ring gear was simple enough; black trunks, kickpads, boots and gumshield. The only design being the Welsh flag on the front of his trunks. As the tempo increased, the pinks turned into blood reds and the lingering cheers transformed into a thundering storm of boos and jeers. None of this would matter as Gethin began his deliberately slow and sinister walk to the thing he called home; the squared circle. His eyes were filled with pain and their gaze had not left the cowering young man who stood in the far corner of the ring.

Gethin Rhys was the most dangerous man in AWE; everyone knew it. Other wrestlers were more technically sound true; others were more charismatic but none could turn up the intensity like Gethin, none could make you more scared for a performer than him. He was often named the most violent wrestler on the planet and for good reason. He had been seduced by the glow of violence from an early age. It had enthralled him, it had warped him into what he was today. Some called him a monster. Gethin Rhys was not a monster, he was an artist; a brutal artist and the ring was his canvass. Tonight would be the start of his masterpiece.

He entered the ring as the lights came back up to normal; his eyes had not once left his opponent. Chad 2 Badd was his name or something like that. It didn’t really matter because Gethin was going to eat him alive. As usual, the ref had already placed his hands on Gethin’s chest to stop him from tearing the poor little sods heart out before the bell even rung. A sick smile crossed the Welshman’s face as the referee called for the bell to start the contest. 

Chad of course went for the collar and elbow tie up. That wasn’t going to work for the man from Cardiff. In an instant, Gethin had already planted Mr 2 Badd into the ground with an arched yakuza kick straight from the corner to the young lads face. Within a millisecond, he was on top of his opponent, raining down hard open handed strikes to his head and neck. Of course not a single one of these actually connected, Gethin was a professional after all and protecting your partner was part of the craft. He threw a final strike before whispering into Chad’s ear [color=wheat]”Corner spot”[/color] Getting to his feet, Gethin shoved his fingers into Chad’s open mouth and grabbed his upper jaw, with a hard yank he began to drag the terrified youngster to the corner before pulling him to his feet. Pulling his hand free, the brutal artist slapped Chad 2 Badd again before leaping and driving a stiff knee into his opponents chin.

[b]“YOU SICK FUCK! YOU SICK FUCK! YOU SICK FUCK!”[/b]

The crowds disdain was like ecstasy for Gethin as a wry smile crept upon his lips. As he approached Chad again, the plucky youngster pressed both his hands forward into Gethin’s gut with a double palm strike. Seeing an opportunity, Chad went after his winded foe with a few more hard strikes. The Welsh Dragon burst into a fit of laughter as he motioned for Chad to continue hitting him. With every blow, Rhys began to laugh more and more before finally he switched gears. One, two slap to the face, right leg kick and a spinning left heel kick to the gut and Chad was hunched over. Gethin hooked the legs from beneath his opponent, sending him to a seated position and setting him up for vintage Rhys. The Dragon ran the ropes and sure enough he struck with a devastatingly stiff penalty kick to the chest of 2 Badd. Gethin’s strikes were best in the game, no one could deny that fact. The crowds massive cheers with every successful strike was testament to the fact.

Raising a single finger to his lips, Gethin began to shush the crowd and they did what they were told. They knew what was coming. Grabbing Chad 2 Badd’s left hand, the ruthless ring general pulled him to his feet before tearing the fingers apart with his signature finger snap move. The crack of the bone echoed throughout the arena followed by sudden thump of foreheads as Gethin cracked Chad with a headbutt.

[b]YOU SICK FUCK! YOU SICK FUCK! YOU SICK FUCK![/b]

The crowd began again and they were right. All of this was just overkill. Gethin could have finished this with one move but that’s not how the surgeon of this theatre operated. Blood began to seep lightly from beneath Rhys hairline and he grinned again. Chad 2 Badd was out but it wasn’t over. There was one last thing to do. As the blood trickled down his head, Gethin closed let out a sigh of release. He took a knee and wrapped his arm around his opponents neck in a dragon sleeper before modifying it by interlocking his far hand behind his back with the other. This version of the dragon sleeper was known as the Owari Death Clutch and Gethin had said he was going to bring it to the AWE. Chad 2 Badd did not even tap out from the End Waltz, his body was limp and as the bell rang Gethin took a second before releasing him.

[color=wheat]”Thanks brother”[/color] Gethin whispered before getting to his feet and listening to the announcers confirm his advancement in the AWE tournament and the crowd jeer him with a small patter embracing his brutality.

[b]”PRO VIOLENCE! PRO VIOLENCE! PRO VIOLENCE!”[/b][/center]