Featuring "Big Bruiser" Barry Doomsday
‘Big Bruiser’ Barry was not a man who cared for ‘a good fight’. His job was to enter the squared circle, crush the enemies in his path, and walk out victorious. Tonight was no different, with the wrestler booked to crush three local competitors. “Good. About time I was booked like a real monster.” Dunsten, who went by the ring name of Barry Doomsday, stood head and shoulders above the rest of the men in the locker room. At 6 foot 8 inches, he watch as many of the other men discuss spots and strategies for their matches, attempting to make them as flashy and entertaining as possible. But not Dunsten. His opponents were local competitors, so what happened in the ring didn’t matter as long as he went over in the end. Barry’s act was third in the show, so he arrived early, warmed up, and before he knew it, it was time for the Long Island crowd to see the beast do what he does best. Tear up his enemies limb from limb.
When Run to the Hills
by Iron Maiden began, the audience knew they were in for something crazy. Out from the curtain stepped the mass of muscles known as Barry Doomsday, who was met with a mix of quiet cheers and loud boos.
Seemed those cheering liked to see an animal uncaged.
Barry’s wet hair hung down his face, masking the evil smirk that lay beneath. He kept his eyes on the ring, and more specifically the scared individual standing inside. Clyde Starmon stared nervously back. In fact, it was his first legitimate match for a promotion tonight, and he was not ready for a wrestler this… BIG. Once Doomsday reached ringside, he grabbed the middle rope, stepped onto the apron, then stepped confidently over the top rope. He bent his head down then flicked it back up, sending his hair backwards, and revealing the monstrous face underneath. A hollow-sounding bell rang, and an announcer stepped into the ring.
“Tonight, there will be a three-on-one gauntlet match. Introducing first the trio. Currently in the ring is Clyde Starmon, who will be followed up by Sir Hamilton, then Mr Viper.” The crowd remained silent, and Clyde gave a nervous glance to someone at ringside, probably a family member. “And now, their opponent. From Perth, Australia, he is the ‘Big Bruiser’ BARRY DOOMSDAY!” Barry raised both arms and let out a roar, sparking some cheers and boos from the crowd.
The bell rang once more, and the announcer stepped out. The arena was silent for a few seconds, before Clyde dashed forward and let out a flurry of punches and chops to Barry’s chest. The monster absorbed the attacks, and quickly retaliated by grabbing his 5’4” opponent sideways, then throwing him backwards for a fallaway slam. Starmon fell into a heap, and Barry simply placed one foot on the young man’s chest as the referee counted to three. One man down, two to go. The crowd was in awe at the quick pinfall. Barry kicked the jobber under the bottom rope, and he fell to the ground.
Some generic music started playing, and Sir Hamilton sprinted down to the ring diving over Clyde and under the bottom rope to slide into the ring impressively. Barry swung his massive right hand, but Hamilton ducked under and hit the ropes, then leapt off them into a running crossbody. Barry’s reflexes were too fast, however, and he grabbed the man with ease, turning the cross body into a scoop slam. Barry then took a couple of steps to the side, bounced off the ropes, and dropped like an anvil with a standing splash. Another cover and three slaps on the mat from the ref meant a second opponent was down. Barry stood up, picking Sir Hamilton up with him, and raised the lightweight up above his head in a military press.
Clyde Starmon stood up, light-headed, on the outside, only to see another limp body being thrown at him. Clyde barely had time to catch Hamilton, and collapsed to the outside with him. Barry knew that it wasn’t a planned spot, but damn did it make him look good. For a good 20 seconds Barry paced the ring, waiting for his next opponent. As he did, boos rained down on him. Destroying those poor, helpless babyfaces must’ve elicited a reaction from the crowd. The same generic music as before played, and a man in a snake-themed leotard entered the arena. The crowd actually popped for the local figure, and he high-fived people on his way to the ring.
Mr Viper was one of the more talented Long Island wrestlers around, and fans were waiting for his to break out into the scene. He confidently climbed up the steps and into the ring, staring down the Big Bruiser. Even though Viper was only a few inches shorter, Barry still towered over him. The two locked up, then Barry grabbed his opponent in a headlock. A few stiff punches into Viper’s abdomen sent him into the corner, winded. Barry then positioned himself in the corner opposite the snake enthusiast, and sprinted full force at him, crashing his whole body into Mr Viper’s, sandwiching him in between the corner and the Big Bruiser.
Once Barry backed off, he watched Viper immediately fall forwards onto his face and chest, and Doomsday smiled. He let out another roar, but was cut off part way by two clubbing fists on his back.
Barry turned to see the two jobbers from earlier had gotten back into the ring and tried to beat him down. Yet, this wasn’t planned at all. Maybe they were angry Barry had been a bit stiff with them, or maybe they were tired of being jobbers, and were revolting.
Without producing even a bit of sweat, Barry grabbed each guy by the head, then rammed the two skulls together with no remorse, and tossing the two guys to the side. Barry watched one slowly stand up in the corner, then bounced off the ropes, sprinted at that corner, and almost took the poor boy’s head off with a purposely hard hitting big boot. After Clyde’s head returned from the whiplash, there was blood gushing out of his nose, and he started howling out in pain.
The monster’s domination was not done though. Conveniently, in the opposite corner, Sir Hamilton stood there, trying to recover from Doomsday’s previous attack. Once more, Barry charged at his opponent with intent to take the guy’s head off. Barry raised his boot, but as he did, a pair of hands reached out and pulled Hamilton to the side, causing Barry to kick the top turnbuckle, damaging it.
Mr Viper had saved Sir Hamilton from destruction. For now. The two stood valiantly for a couple of seconds, before Barry charged and took both of them down with a pair of clotheslines. It didn’t matter how big or brave Barry’s opponents were, he was there to win, and nothing was going to change that. Hamilton rolled out of the ring to avoid this match being his last, and Mr Viper slowly rose to his feet. Barry Doomsday rose on hand up in the air, signifying his finisher was coming. Viper got up, turned around, and was grabbed around the neck. The Big Bruiser lifted Mr Viper high into the air, then on the way down, dropped to one knee and let Viper’s back fall onto it. Armageddon.
Doomsday dropped onto Viper’s limp body, hooked both legs, and let the referee count. “One, two, three! That’s it, ring the bell.” Barry sat up and he heard that bell ring once more, then simply stood up, gave one more roar of dominance, and left the ring.