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"La-la-la-ladies aaand gentlemen! Welcome back... to the Chapel of Wrestling Spirits! A-WOOOOOO~"
As the return to action was howled on in, the camera swept across the arena - passing by the still-present forms of Fatih and Felicia. It seemed the other competitors had taken their leave during the break, allowing the two make-shift partners to try and resolve their issues. Whilst they didn't exactly seem to be arguing anymore, they definitely weren't seeing eye to eye. An air of tension stewed over the duo as they impatiently paced the ring, barely acknowledging each other bar the occasional side-glance. It seemed that right now, their focus was on the great pair of double-doors heading up that ramp...
Moving beyond them, the camera came to settle on the three-piece act that made up the commentary team. To the left, a leather-clad lynx sat - a sizeable bell hanging just beyond her shoulder. To the right, a more casual figure many would recognise as the voice of Parallel Radio - and as the wolf who had just tuned them in. Between both of them sat a shirtless zebra, speaking up;
"Thanks Frankie," he addressed his broadcast partner, before turning to the camera, "I'm Handsome Greg, and this right here is Sable Somerset. And the three of us will be guiding you through the action tonight! Isn't that right?"
"I'm surprised we ain't already underway," the newly-identified Sable spoke up, "Only, the supposed 'team' in the ring seem to be about two words from coming to blows. Who needs another team in there? Fight, fight, fight!" The vampire's little chant seemed to inspire a small selection of the audience to take it up for themselves - the faint cries causing Felicia to offer a small glance towards her assigned partner. She seemed to be VERY tempted to...
"Speaking of other teams, uh..." Frankie, spoiling the magic a little bit, waved her tablet around, "We seem to be having some technical difficulties here. Only I'm not quite sure who's meant to be facing-"
"Then allow me to step in dear, before you make a fool of yourself."

Panning the camera to the right unveiled that - during the commentators small introduction - a rather old-fashioned looking gentleman had made his way to the entry stage. The middle-aged human stood as a classy contrast to the three who had preceded him. Adorned in a neatly-ironed white suit, accentuated with a little red bow-tie, his grey combed-over hair and neatly trimmed moustache helped grant him the look of a figure of times gone by - the look only furthered by the old-timey radio mic with which he addressed the audience;
"Allow me to introduce myself, for those of you from less auspicious backgrounds... I am Luis Fernando - and I shall be providing you with the REAL entertainment for tonight!" A chorus of boos rang out from the selection of congregation members who seemed to recognise his name - a gesture which went seemingly unnoticed by the white-glad gentleman, "You see, those of you who've been doing your maths homework should perhaps have realised by now that you've only seen twelve competitors tonight, and well..." he paused, "...I'd personally argue even less."
This rather unsubtle jab had seemingly raised the ire of both individuals in the ring - each shouting over each other in an attempt at hurling their own abuse back at the moustachioed man. This was of course, soon drowned out by the power of the microphone in Luis Fernando's hands;
"Still, they may yet still have chance to prove me wrong! Though that doesn't change the fact of the matter that there is still too few to host a proper tournament. As such, dear Saratheina has asked me to fill in some of the gaps! And whilst what you see before you is a team falling apart at the seams, I bring a well-oiled machine! Two cogs turning in synch, ready to grind up whatever tries to come between them!" As he spoke, he gestured to the increasingly irate pairing inside the ring, "So ladies and gentlemen, prepare for a show, as these slapped-together extras - and you, my wonderful audience - receive a demonstration of a REAL tag team in action!" Pausing for a few second more, he seemed to decide to offer what some might consider a backhanded compliment to finish off; "Still, with such violent brutes in the ring? You never know, we may ALL be in for a surprise! And believe you me, it could be SHOCKING indeed!"
In the ring, Fatih was now practically screaming himself blue, leaning right over the top rope as he attempted to let the rambling individual know EXACTLY what he thought. Felicia meanwhile had taken to simply pacing towards the back of the ring, visibly seething. It was evident that she was growing increasingly impatient - and that sooner or later a fight WOULD break out, whether it be sanctioned or not.

"Now, I feel I've let you all wait long enough," Luis continued, "It's about time I introduced you all..." All around the arena, the lights dimmed, "Standing combined at over 12-and-a-half feet tall, and weighing in together at 474lbs - the nightmare alliance of Drew Fionnlagh and the one they call 'Zynda'. Your future tag team champions - the VIOLENT DEGENERAAATES!"
Heavy electric thrums reverberated the arena as the great doors burst open behind Luis - two more human figures emerging from the rolling mists to flank the boasting gentlemen. It was immediately evident who these two were...
The larger of the pair was evidently Drew Fionnlagh, a towering pale figure who seemed to be trying his hardest to look like he hadn't tried on his looks at all. Messy brown hair in the laziest of ponytails matched up with a sea of stubble that completely failed at hiding the man's overly pronounced chin. This was evidently a man who'd seen battle, a crooked nose and missing teeth granting him the ugliest grin imaginable. Not that he seemed to care much what others might think... The moment he was out the door he was mouthing off - pointing at seemingly random members of the audience in his best attempt to pick a fight with anything and everything that moved.
Opposite Drew, the one known as Zynda was no dwarf herself. A beast of a woman, whilst her body showed enough flesh to cry 'human', the mask and hood disguising her visage gave her the feeling of something altogether more dark. Arms wide as she made her way down the ramp, she provided a quiet contrast to the loud-mouthed Scot at her side. A single blank stare to an audience member said so much more than his words ever could.

"...So..." Greg found the time during their descent down the ramp to speak up, "The 'Violent Degenerates'. What can you tell me about them?"
"'VD' for short, Zynda and Drew, two nasty pieces of work," Sable seemed to approve, "Luis there sorta... 'saw their potential', and wound up bringing them together into this monster team. They've been getting some recognition on the scene for their talent. And by talent, I mean latent psychopathy."
"I know Drew used to be a boxer," Frankie hopped in, "Got himself banned from that for taking things too far. And cheating. I think Luis used to be a promoter too, which is probably where they know each other from."
"And Zynda?"
"I... got nothing."
"As far as anyone's aware, Luis just turned up with her one day," Sable cut back in, "Never says a word. Seems to be happy just to let Luis handle all that for her."

Finally making it to the ring, the trio split ways - the Degenerates stepping into the squared circle, as their manager redirected himself off to the team's corner - where he could more easily advise when the time came. To one side of the arena, Zynda allowed herself to drape over the top rope... before snapping back up, arms spread wide as the lights shone around. As the music faded however, she soon stepped away, moving to join Luis in her team's corner. It looked like the Violent Degenerates had chosen Drew to go first, and the Scotsman certainly seemed ready to fight. Which was more than could be said for his opponents...
"What's the problem now?" Greg spoke up, evidently beginning to get rather annoyed by the matter himself.
It seemed that, whilst the unified team had made their way to the ring, another argument had broken out between Fatih and Felicia - this time on the subject of who would be starting the match. And with all the pointing and yelling the Khan was doing... well, it seemed he was pretty insistent on the fact that it should be him.
"Same as always," Sable rolled her eyes, "Fatih doesn't think a 'little girl' like Felicia should be in the ring with a guy like Drew. Thinks she'll cost them the match."
With something of an aggressive sigh, the scrappy wolf eventually threw up her arms, and made her way to her corner. It seemed like the big goat had gotten his way. For now at the very least...
"Wait, didn't a 'little girl' beat him last week?" the DJ at the end of the table spoke up.
"Yeah," Greg sighed, "But he's been insisting backstage all day that the referee made an 'error of judgement'."
"Speaking of which, hey Frankenface?" the vampire sneered, "Haven't you got a job to be doing?" The young wolf couldn't help but offer her colleague a glare. Still, she nevertheless got to her feet - ready to bring about the start of the match.

"Ladies aaand gentlemen, this match is scheduled for a-one fall! Each team may only have one active participant in the match at one time. If that active participant is fell at any point by pin, submission, ring-out, or disqualification, both they and their partner are defeated - and eliminated from the tournament! Sable, if you'd please?~"
DOOONG-AWOOOOO!
And immediately the match was underway! Charging forward with a surprising degree of speed for his size, 330lbs of Anatolian black goat surged it's way into the ill-prepared Fionnlagh, a well-placed shoulder bowling the Scot completely off his feet! Desperate not to lose the early footing, the ex-boxer hurriedly pushed his way back to all fours... only for the Khan to rebound off the ropes and come back at him again with a knee to the side of the head! Seeing stars, Drew simply fell to his back - trying to regain his senses as Fatih roared his dominance out to the gathered crowd!
"Looks like the Khan is out to send a message..." Frankie observed.
"Yeah," Greg continued the point, "For however controversial he might be... he certainly has the power to back up that ego."
Indeed, it seemed that even from just a couple of blows, Drew was already reeling. Staggering to make it back to his feet, it seemed that he'd leant his opponent enough time to step back in and grab either side of his head, ready to dole out more punishment!
Still, the Violent Degenerates hadn't earnt their reputation from their ability to talk. Feeling those hands clasp either side of his head, the Scot swung a low hook in at his opponent's stomach - the boxing strike doing the work to knock the wind from the big guy! Not wanting to let up, Drew continued his assault - another couple of jabs used to loosen the goat's hold juuust enough for Drew to swing a big right arm upside the Khan's jaw! Shocked and dazed from his opponent's assault, Fatih couldn't help but stumble back against the ropes - leaning just a few feet away from his partner's outstretched arm!
"Looks like Felicia wants the tag!"

It was evident that the wolf wanted in. Leaning as far as she could from her corner, her hand extended towards Fatih. All it would take was him extending his own hand in turn, and she could hop right in and take his place! However, a shaking of the head from Fatih gave one clear response; 'No.'
"Whilst I admit it's perhaps early days for the tag..." the zebra began, "...I suspect we'll be seeing a lot more of that this match."
"The asshole's on the ropes! Literally!" Sable pointed out, "Yet he's more worried about telling his tag partner 'no' than he is about his opponent! If he doesn't focus up, he'll-" She didn't even have to finish that sentence before her point was proven true. Seeing his opponent wide open, Fionnlagh stepped in with another flurry of blows - the young rabbit referee finally making his presence known as he began the count for rope break;
"One!" A left hook, a right hook, a headbutt.
"Two!" A knee to the left, a knee to the right, a resounding kick to the shin.
"Three!" A twirl - and a big discus clothesline, nearly knocking the goat clean over the ropes before his body pivoted back down, rebounding forward to collapse face-down on the mat. Now it was time for Drew to do some show-boating of his own! Hopping up to a neutral corner, he batted his fists together, before raising them over head in a celebratory display! Both active competitors had been felled once now - but it was clear who was looking better from the exchange.
"Despite a shaky start, it looks like Drew is putting some of that background to good work!"
"Greg?" Sable turned in her seat to give the shirtless commentator a quizzical look, "You know you don't knee people in boxing, right?"
"Well," Frankie cut in, "That never stopped him in the past."

Back in the ring, the Turkish terror was seemingly beginning to recover - his grizzly opponent's display of arrogance allowing the large goat to at the very least push to all-fours. Unfortunately, it seemed this freedom of movement wasn't going to last for long, as a small gesture from Drew's moustachioed manager dragged his attention back to his opponent. Ah.
With an unpleasant grin from a mouth filled with gaps, the Scottish brawler turned on the ropes, and readied an elbow to drop on Fatih's back. One little jump and he'd be ploughing the big man face-first into the mat! ...Aaaat least, that was the plan.
Unfortunately for the Violent Degenerates, the large man was much faster than they'd prepared for. As Drew dropped himself forward, the goat had risen up - and clasped a surprise arm across the chest of the unprepared human! Of course, the hold didn't last for long, and within moments of touching down, the Scot had been lifted back up again - before being slammed spine-first against the corner-post!
"A huuuge uranage to the turnbuckle!" Greg called it as it happened.
"I can feel that from here!" Sable winced in turn, "Doesn't matter how much padding you put on those, it's still metal underneath!"
It seemed that with that one move, Fatih had found the opening he needed. Now, it was time to put it to use...
As Drew writhed in the corner, he soon found his legs swept up from under him - his injured upper spine forced to pivot up on top of the ropes as the 330lb menace lifted the Scot's knees to rest over his shoulders. Panicking, and realising that this situation was in no way good for him, he swung an awkward fist in the direction of his opponent - only for it to sail about a mile overhead as he was yanked completely from the corner and up into powerbomb position!
"You really don't wanna be up there!" the DJ pointed out, as if there were any doubt, "Fatih's 6'4" - and that's a looong way to drop!"
"Yeah," her vampiric co-host sniggered, "An' something tells me Luis didn't pack his team any safety harnesses."
Fortunately, despite the commentator's concerns, the Scotsman wasn't exactly 'up there' for long. Unfortunately, this was due to the goat suddenly falling backwards, driving Drew head-first into the mat with an alleyoop facebuster!
"Right now... I feel Drew should be thankful he was already missing most of his teeth."
The ex-boxer was now barely clinging to conciousness, the Anatolian black warrior having efficiently knocked the fight from him. And he wasn't done yet...
Still holding onto his opponent, Fatih proceed to roll the both of them over - putting Drew onto his back as he leant forward and bent the poor man in half. Holding onto the dazed individuals ankles as he pushed his weight down, the Khan's intent was pretty clear;
"He's going for the pin!"
Dropping to the mat, the rabbit slammed his hand down; "ONE!" Leering at his opponent, the dominant party could only listen to the count; "TWO!" Building in confidence he-

-fell back into a seating position as his opponent violently kicked out! Drew Fionnlagh had seen to it that the Violent Degenerates remained in the competition! Unfortunately, it had evidently taken a lot out of him...
"Did you see that!?" Frankie suddenly called out, apparently having noticed something that had bypassed the attention of the others.
"See what?" Sable prompted, a dryness to her tone indicating she wasn't truly that interested in what the wolf had to say.
"Zynda didn't move an inch!"
"...So...?"
"So!" the DJ huffed, crossing her arms, "Her partner was being pinned! You'd've thought she'd have at least TRIED to break that up!"
It was true. In fact, even now, the masked figure seemed to be almost neutral to the state of her cohort - the only thing that could possibly be interpreted as a sign of concern being the arm she outstretched in her partner's direction. Unfortunately, it seemed he wasn't immediately capable of making the tag.
"Well, they've been a team for a while right?" Greg butted in, "Maybe she had enough trust that he was gonna kick out?"
"Maybe..."

Back with Fatih, it seemed the goat himself was beginning to suffer somewhat from his own assault. Whilst he'd gotten back to his feet, sweat was coursing it's way through that black fur - the assault he'd received from the boxer prior to his high-impact comeback having evidently worn on his well-being.
Luckily, to one side was an invitation. An outstretched offer from the palm of Felicia Zucker. She was fresh, energised, and evidently eager to get into this fight. With their opponent on the ground, now was the opportune time to make the tag!
...And Fatih simply shook his head. 'No'.
"Oh my god, just tag her in already you fat fuck!" It seemed that the Turk's adamant refusal to play ball was even beginning to pierce through Sable's dislike of Felicia.

Ignoring the pleas of commentary, it seemed the goat was still out to prove his point. Bending down with a huff, Fatih seized his opponent's ankles - only for that opponent to spring to life! Having apparently had time to recover both his breath and his senses, the Scot had felt that grasp on his legs and realised that he needed to act fast! Lurching up, Drew swung a fist, catching the maw of the Mongol Mauler, sending spittle flying across the mat!
Unfortunately, it was too little too late, and rather than loosening that grip, the large man instead tightened it as he turned to swing that 245lbs body weight up off the mat - and release it, sending him crashing across the ring and onto his side!
"Nothing fancy about a move like that..." Greg remarked.
"Gonna be honest with yah Greggy," Frankenhowl perked up, "Someone throws you across the room like that, you're probably not gonna be thinking about how pretty it is!"
And it looked like he wasn't done there. Whilst Drew was struggling his way back to all-fours Fatih Giray Khan had seemingly found a new lease of life - adrenaline building as he maintained the assault on his human opponent.
Coming up behind the slightly taller man, the bearded brute bent low, wrapping both arm's around the Violent Degenerate's waist. Aching and dazed, it seemed the Chapel's latest arrival was about to be sent home packing as he was hoisted upright - and pulled back into a release german suplex!
Only... somehow... Drew flipped to land on his feet.

It wasn't a clean landing by any means, the great Scot narrowly missing the referee as he stumbled back arm outstretched - and collapsed. But as he clumsily reversed, as he fell, he achieved one thing. As he went down, that outstretched palm... caught the hand of his partner.
"She's in! Drew has made the tag! Zynda is IN!"
Clambering in through the ropes, the monstrous masked woman stepped into the ring and stared down her opponent. Arms spread wide, even with her silence, she gave a pretty clear message. 'Bring it'.

Only... Fatih didn't. Rather than take the invitation, the brutish man simply stared for a second... before letting out an audible, boorish laugh. Calmly walking back to his corner, he slapped down on his partner's hand. It looked like Felicia had been... tagged in?
"At last!"
Whilst Sable seemed pleased, it was evident that the wolf at ringside was annoyed. It seemed an argument had broken out between the team once more - this time over the reason as to WHY Fatih had decided now was the right time to tag her in. Audible over the ringside cameras, a few of the goat's words could be heard to the TV audience;
"You want tag, I give you tag! You fight woman!"
Despite the disagreement, it did seem the two of them were swapping places - the Turk taking up position on the outside as Felicia stepped in and came face to face with the towering form of Zynda. The argument petered off as the wolf began to truly assess the task ahead of her.

"Now this should be good!" Greg commented, "Still everything to play for, with two fresh competitors hoping to move their team towards tag team glory! It's a pretty even playing field!"
"I mean..." Sable responded, "I wouldn't go as far as to say THAT."
With the human Zynda standing nearly half a foot and well over 50lbs above Felicia, it WAS pretty clear to see what she meant. Still... the Drunken Master had gained the 'Master' portion of her title for a reason. And this seemed as good a time as any to show it...

With a surprise burst of speed, the wolf made the first move! Hopping up, she used an arm across Zynda's shoulders to pull her other arm around - swinging around the larger opponent's back with enough momentum to pull them down to the ground in a huge slingblade manoeuvre! Not wanting to release the masked figure, the wolf kept that arm around the larger woman's neck, shuffling around to try and get her own body beneath her opponent and the mat - legs wrapping around that toned abdomen as she tried to completely lock the Degenerate down!
"I'm gonna admit," Frankie spoke up, a tone of hesitance in her voice, "I'm surprised."
As the action stilled for a moment, the cameras zoomed in to get a better look beneath the cowl of the hooded figure. It seemed that, for all intents and purposes, the mask Zynda wore was actually quite small, covering primarily the upper portion of her face. Still, it's blacks and whites intermingled with paints of the same two tones... utterly hiding the identity of the woman beneath. They said the only man who truly her identity was one Luis Fernando - the moustachioed figure who was now leaning beneath the bottom ropes, shouting instructions to his patron.

Whether or not she'd heard was unclear... but she was certainly taking action. Whilst Felicia had done a good job of constricting the neck and torso of Zynda, her limbs were mostly still free. Arms reaching behind her head, the human succeeded in wrapping her own hold around the wolf's head. Using her legs to flip herself up, Zynda tore free from Felicia's hold - her knees falling back down to support her as she forced a headlock.
Hoping to avoid this transitioning into anything worse, the wolf rolled sideways to her front - forcing Zynda back onto her back with the same motion. Now, the taller girl lacked the positioning and weight pushing down to keep the pressure on her hold - and Felicia knew how to take advantage. Awkwardly turning in the headlock, she moved 'til she was to the larger woman's side - forming a right angle of sorts with their bodies - before abruptly rolling back! As her head went back, it pulled those arms grasping her with them - right up until Zynda's shoulder met with Felicia's legs. Forced to release at that stopping point, it wasn't long before two furred hands shot out to grasp her by the wrists - and straighten out into an armlock!
"You know..." Frankie hesitated at the display, "If you were to tell me I was gonna be commentating on a fight between a Violent Degenerate and a Drunken Master, 'chain wrestling' wouldn't be the first thing that sprung to my mind..."
"I can't imagine much springs to your mind at all," her vampiric co-host spoke up, unable to resist the shot. It was decided that perhaps the response of 'bite me' to this individual would perhaps not be the best idea, so the DJ kept any further comment to herself, instead returning attentions to the match.

Back in the ring, Felicia was trying her best to solidify the hold she had on Zynda; the masked figure was evidently struggling as pain insisted it's way into her shoulder. It was hurting - it was hurting a lot. But still... the writhing had done it's work - dislodging the wolf's exposed legs just enough to stop that attack from reeeaaally locking in.
Finding enough of an opening, Zynda took a chance. Rolling towards her opponent, the legs that had once draped over her were now forcibly bent over their owner's torso - causing their body to roll back and their shoulders to meet the mat!
"That's a pin!" Frankie helpfully highlighted, "Zynda took Felicia's submission and turned it into a pin!"
Hitting the mat, the referee managed to slap down a "ONE!" before the wolf realised what was happening. Releasing the hold she had on her arm, she arched her back violently - shoving herself off the mat and distancing her opponent in one abrupt movement. That could've been close!
Now, as Felicia rolled up to her feet, it seemed the two competitors had reset - returned to equal footing, at least for the time being. Staring across the ring from each other, there was an air of hesitation...
"Who's going to make the next move?"

For a moment, Zynda considered tagging her partner. Whilst she wasn't too badly hurt, the exchange had at least drained her stamina - a moment to re-energise would be nice. Still... Drew had certainly taken the worst of it from his exchange with Fatih - and whilst Zynda WAS worn out, she could easily imagine Felicia was suffering just as equally. And she felt the wolf was gonna be much less eager to tag her own partner in...
Aaaand yeah, she was pretty much right about that. Felicia was rather aware that after spending most of the match begging to be let in, if she tagged out now it would only invite more mockery from the Turkish tit. And with that in mind... well, it only gave her one choice.
Stepping forward, the wolf ducked low, attempting to sweep out the legs of the taller woman! Unfortunately, Zynda was on-guard; Hopping over that leg, the large wrestler touched down - before striking out a foot directly into the face of Felicia! The scrappy combatant - having already ducked low in the sweep attempt - took the blow full force, falling to her back with a cry! A moment more, and Zynda was dropping a leg on her head, ensuring an abrupt stillness from the now extremely dazed wolfess!
"Aaand this is looking bad for Felicia," Greg noted, "Up until now the fight between these two has been on pretty even footing - but now it looks like Zynda is the one to take control!"
"Yeeeeaaah," Sable leant back in her chair, "And someone like her, you really don't- will SOMEONE shut him UP!?"

Over on the apron, it seemed Fatih had taken objection to his partner's current state. Or, to put it in less generous term, the large brute was now screaming at his partner to 'get up' and 'be less pathetic'. It was hard to describe his attitude in the matter as being even remotely encouraging.
Whilst Zynda wasn't exactly an easy read, there was some suggestion that she was perhaps... amused by this? Walking towards the Turkish Terror, she seemed largely unintimidated by his ranting and raving. In fact, drawing her arms wide, she seemed to be... taunting him?
"Is that... really a good idea?" the DJ glanced to her commentary partners.
"HAH!" Sable was first to the post, "Well if he takes offence he can actually get in and fight her himself! Rather than fucking hiding behind 'Oh I can only fight the man'! I'd LOVE to see her get her hands on him!"
Indeed, whilst Fatih was doing a lot of shouting right now, it couldn't be said he was doing much in the way of... anything really. At this point it had just devolved into a stream of insults that the masked woman was simply taking on the chin - unflinching in her motion as she held her outstretched pose. It was evident that her lack of reaction was only serving to annoy Fatih further... which was pretty much the intention.
Only... then there was a call from the ringside. The recognisably styled tones of Luis Fernando.

Turning to see what her manager was concerned about, Zynda instead came face-to-foot with the sole of Felicia's boot!
"Well..." the play-by-play zebra hesitated, "I guess that's what you get for taking your eye off the ball..."
It seemed that whilst Zynda had been busy taunting Fatih, Felicia had instead been busy recovering. One snap kick later, and the wolf was suddenly in control again! ...Aaalbeit not looking too great. Those two blows to the head had evidently knocked her focus loose, and whilst she was grinning, her footing could hardly be called stable. Still... that was more than could be said for the currently floored form of Zynda.
Wanting to press the advantage further, Felicia nabbed her downed opponent by the ankles... and began to spin. Whilst some would suspect the smaller wolf would perhaps struggle to lift her 6'2" frame, the momentum served it's purpose as she swung her opponent up into the appropriately-named Big Swing!
"Woo, here we go!" Frankie grinned, apparently a fan of the move, "Let's see how many times she can go round!"
"I'm... not sure it's a move she really wants to be using right now?" Greg forwarded his honest opinion, "I mean she already seems kinda dazed, I don't think spinning on the spot will exactly help..."
It did seem the zebra was pretty spot-on with his assessment. Whilst Felicia manager to swing her opponent around once, one stumble later and she was forced into an early release - sending Zynda crashing across the mat prematurely as she fought for her footing. Realising that, despite herself, she PROBABLY needed a moment to recover, Felicia turned to her corner... to find Fatih with his arms folded across his chest. Reluctantly, she reached out a hand - only to receive the shake of a head in response. It seemed the big man was rather insistent that Felicia continue the fight herself for now.

Well... fine! She didn't need his help anyway!
Turning back to her opponent, she prepared to chase Zynda down... only to realise the masked figure had already crawled her way to her corner! It was all too late to stop her - a quick tag and Drew was back in. The boxer had had his time to recover... and with an ugly grin seemed ready to put some of that renewed energy to work against Felicia!
Well, the wolf was MORE than ready for him! Bringing up her arms she-

-felt an abrupt slap against her back! Turning back to her corner, she was greeted with the visual of a bearded goat clambering his way into the ring!
"Did..." Greg spoke up first, "Did Fatih just tag himself back in? But he just told her not to tag him!"
"Wh- c'mon!" it was clear DJ Frankenhowl was losing her temper, "This is a goddamn pantomime!"
"That fatass thinks he's above fighting Zynda, but doesn't want Felicia to go up against Drew," Sable explained, a tone of disgust in her voice, "Why? Simple, he's a fucking sexist pig. And if I was Felicia, I'd be cursing Sarath right now for putting me through THIS!"
It was rather evident that Felicia was seething at this point. Earlier similar events had resulted in arguments between the dysfunctional tag team... but this time the wolf simply glared. Whilst prior to the tag she'd been feeling hazy, she'd now found new focus in her fury towards her teammate.
And yet... she stepped out. Slowly and calmly, she made her to the ring apron, her eyes never breaking from her tag partner. She was beyond screaming at him now. Now it was just a silent broiling rage, stewing away inside her.

And of course, the Anatolian black goat was oblivious to all this. As far as he was concerned, he'd simply gotten his way - and now, face-to-face with Drew once more, he was CERTAIN that 'his way' was going to seal the finish of this match in his favour! Stepping to the centre of the ring, the super heavyweight raised both arms-
And received a punch straight to the face.
Stumbling away in shock as much as pain, Fatih swung his body to maintain his stance - and opened his back up to his foe! Seeing the opportunity, Drew bought an arm around the big man's neck, kicking his legs off the ground and wrapping them around his opponent's girth. All 245lbs rested on Fatih's back now, pulling down on his neck in an attempt to choke him to the ground!
"That's what you get!" Sable shouted out, before helpfully adding; "You prick!"
It seemed a few seconds back in, and the Khan had already landed himself in trouble. Whilst he'd managed to retain his footing, he was slowly growing hazy, unable to escape Drew's grasp as his own fingers brushed lamely against the Scotsman's arms. He couldn't pull free!
"He needs to get out of this fast," Greg noted, "If Fatih goes down to the ground, it'll give Drew a quick chance to adjust..."
"Yeah, and if he gets his arms right, you know what that means?" Frankie evidenced her research, "He can lock in his finisher - the Breaking Point!"
And once more, realising the direness of the situation, Felicia extended her arm for a tag. There was no shouting this time, no demanding - a simple straight forward extension of the arm. To which Fatih once more... shook his head. Or at least, shook it as well as he could with that arm around his neck!
Instead he had his eye on something else... The referee had took up position in front of him - the man-in-stripes who's job it was to seem often invisible among the action in the ring. Now, as the rabbit attempted to keep watch of the Khan's condition, he'd garnered the goat's full attention.

Suddenly grabbing the shorter man by the scruff of the shirt, the non-combatant could only yelp as he was yanked abruptly towards the two-man-tower in front of him! In the same motion, Fatih jerked his own body forward - ducking down slightly to cause a head-on collision between Drew Fionnlagh and the official!
"That crafty bastard!"
The impact had been enough to daze the poor bun - and to force the Violent Degenerate to release his hold! Still, the brawler had taken worse hits before, and was more than ready to return the favour with an elbow to the back of Fatih's skull! Only... Fatih wasn't there. As Drew moved forward, the black Anatolian ducked down to the side - leaving only the referee in the path of that strike!
Pulling back at the last moment, Drew stumbled to a halt - and that stumble was all the opening his opponent needed! Bringing an arm up beneath the Scot's legs, the super heavyweight rolled Drew up into a pin! Blinking back into focus, the referee dropped to the mat to begin the count;
"ONE!"
Unfortunately, for his efforts, the count got no further, as Drew violently thrashed out! The Khan was simply left to flop onto the mat, gasping for breath as he attempted to recover from the hold he'd so narrowly escaped.
"It was a decent attempt from Fatih," Greg came out slightly in the big man's favour, "But the Glaswegian Gladiator still had plenty left in the tank for that!"

It was true. Whilst the 330lber was struggling to regain his stamina, Drew was already pushing to his feet. And boy, did he look PISSED.
Stomping over to the felled goat, he grabbed him by the hair, using it to pull his head up. Gritting his (largely absent) teeth, the Scot shoved his opponent maw-first against his thigh - before violently scrubbing his face up and down the sides of his boot!
"Jeez!" Frankie winced, "This is that temper that got him banned from boxing!"
"He's gotta be taking some fur off with that..."
"Eh," Sable simply shrugged, "Well, big buy looked like he could do with a shave."
However horrendous the scrape was, it was most certainly brief. Stepping in, the referee forced a release on Fatih's hair - drawing a chorus of boos from the audience! It seemed the people present had REALLY grown to dislike the Mongol Mauler - although a close observation would note that the sound of protest began at ringside from the Violent Degenerates very own Luis Fernando...

Spitting off to the side, Drew took a casual wander to Fatih's lower body. Picking his target, he lifted his leg... and stomped. And stomped. And stomped. And stomped and stomped - driving his heel into the super-heavyweight's knee over and over!
"That leg has to support a LOT of weight! You take out the base of a big guy like Fatih, he's gonna have trouble launching much offence at all! It may look vicious, but it's tactical play!" It certainly seemed to be having an effect too - the Turk was howling on the mat, trying to pull away from the assault. But with the way the stomps were coming, he wasn't being given any chance for freedom! It only came to an end when finally Drew jumped - and pushed both feet down at once!
Fatih's yowl echoed around the arena.

"Holy shit!" Frankie stole the words from the audience's mouths.
"That's 245lbs that's just come down on that knee!" Greg exclaimed, "I'll be amazed if it's not broken!"
Indeed, that seemed to be the worry that the referee was having too. Backing Drew away, the official bent low over the writhing goat, trying desperately to check on his condition. But the Scot wasn't having any of it...
Moving around the rabbit, the British Brawler decided if he wasn't allowed to go low anymore, he'd go high. Lifting his foot, he moved to continue his stomping assault - only this time, aimed directly at the goat's face!
At least... that had been the plan. Only, instead, as that boot came down, two hands shot up to catch it. Whether it was through determination or pure instinct, the big goat had found it in him to power through - and with a roll managed to drag that foot around to bring his shocked opponent crashing back-first to the mat!
"He's STILL fighting?"
"Can he even WALK?"
It didn't seem he necessarily needed to - as the referee backed off he simply dragged himself atop his opponent, and started laying in punches! Blow after blow to the face of the man who had just hurt him so badly - a torrent of fury in the form of fists! Soon enough, the Scottish native lay still, his senses knocked from him by the abrupt assault!
He'd let his aggression in, and taken back control. Now, he just needed to capitalise.

Groaning, unsteadily, Fatih pushed his way to his feet. It was evident that he was in A LOT of pain, and that leg seemed barely capable of supporting him. For a moment, he stumbled, the knee buckling slightly beneath his weight. Regardless though, he was still upright... barely.
And once more in his corner, there stood Felicia - arm outstretched as a symbol of salvation. All he needed to do was go over and slap her hand - and he could finally get some rest. Some time to recover.
And once more, through haggard breath and shaking legs... he shook his head. 'No'.
"That fucking IDIOT!" Sable slammed her hands against the decks, her anger slowly getting the better of her, "His stupid pig-headedness will cost them the fucking match!"

Whatever was going through Fatih's head, it was clear that he was stubbornly determined to fight this match on his own terms. He was injured, yes... but he was also the great Fatih Giray Khan, hero to his people! And he would FIGHT!
Gingerly bending down over the fallen figure of Drew, he rolled him to his front... before wrapping both arms around his waist! He seemed to be trying to force the Scot up...
"Surely he's not going to-"
And in one swift movement Drew was torn off the mat and overhead into a huge German suplex!
"He's a goddamn monster! He shouldn't be able to do that!"
He hadn't let go either. Forcing himself to his feet, he dragged Drew upright once more - before falling back into another suplex, crashing the scot down onto the back of his neck with a shout!
"He can't, keep this up for long, surely..."
It certainly seemed like he was gonna try! Pushing up one more time, he lifted Drew-!
And something went. As he pulled back, that leg gave way, causing both of them to crash down clumsily to the mat. It was agony... but it all could've been enough.
Ignoring the pleading hand of Felicia, the Turkish warrior dragged himself atop the Scot - simply draping across him in an attempted pin.

The referee dropped to the mat to begin the count.
"ONE!"
Fatih closed his eyes praying for the win.
"TWO!"
It seemed that it could've all been over.
But it wasn't.

Like a punishing spirit from beyond the veil, Zynda had entered the ring and seen to it that the referee's hand would not meet the mat for that third count. Bounding off the ropes, she'd used the moment to spring herself forwards - and bought down a particularly low dropkick to the side of Fatih's legs! The impact had served it's purpose.
Turning sidewards - carried both from the momentum of the strike and from his own body recoiling in pain - Fatih fell from his opponent too soon to get the pin. Right now though... he didn't care. He couldn't care about anything bar the pain as he rolled around screaming, clutching his badly abused limb.
"Zynda with the save!" Greg called it.
"Y'see?" Sable made a point to the DJ, harkening back to their earlier conversation, "The Violent Degenerates have been a team for a while. They know when each other are TRULY in trouble - and when to make the save."
"And HOW to make it too," Frankie responded, ignoring her co-hosts attempt to talk down to her, "'Cause that went BEYOND just breaking up the pin."
Indeed, it seemed the damage had been done to Fatih. As he clutched his leg, whimpering, a certain dampness could be observed around his eye. He was evidently hurting a lot.
And over him, Zynda showed no sympathy. Staring down at him, for a few moments she remained motionless... before looking out to the audience, her arms drawn wide in a display of dominance! A roaring response came from the congregation, a mixed reaction of cheers and boos. Soaking in the moment for but a second, she soon lowered her arms again, and returned to her corner - ready for her partner to call her into action.

In the opposite corner, Felicia was practically pleading for the same opportunity. Leaning as far over the ropes as she feasibly could, her hand extended outwards, all Fatih had to do was drag himself close enough to tag her in and be free of this.
And yet, as tears and sweat intermingled down his face, he simply pushed the front of his body up... and shook his head. He wouldn't. He COULDN'T.
And as he felt a hand suddenly latch onto his ankle, he already knew... He was about to pay for his hubris.

Drew, seemingly, had recovered from that pair of suplexes. Okay, 'recovered' was perhaps not the best word. He was aching all over, with a screaming headache... but he'd realised two things. The first, was that he was in faaar better condition than Fatih - the goat was a mess, and by the looks of things seemed incapable of even pushing up to a stand. The second however, informed his decision. Drew realised that if he went to tag Zynda in now, it would give Fatih cause and want to tag his own partner in. As things were currently, Felicia was the more fresh of their two foes - if he wanted the win over Fatih, he'd have to act to be the one to gain it.
So now, with malicious intent in mind, the Scotsman snagged the injured leg of his foe. Wrapping his own legs around the limb to scissor it in, all it took was a good hold of the ankle, and a slight arching of the body - and that targeted knee was now hyper-extended far beyond what it was ever meant to go!
Fatih screamed. He writhed. He frothed at the mouth. He banged his face against the mat. Anything... EVERYTHING to not tap out. The pain was unbearable - and a deep part of him feared that if that leg was bent any further...
He needed to not think about that.

"Well, was it worth it yah fat fuck!?" Sable had no sympathy, "Let's see how much pride you'll have going around here with a walking stick!"
He couldn't tap... He WOULDN'T tap. Tears rolling down his face, one word repeated itself in his mind; 'Escape.'
Desperately, blindly, he kicked out behind him with his decent leg - hoping to land it on ANYTHING that could possibly grant him freedom. He didn't care what he was aiming at, he just wanted to hit SOMETHING! And he did.
Landing a wild strike on Drew's elbow, the kick had been just enough. As the Glaswegian's hold on his ankle lessened ever so slightly, the 330lber found the energy to tear himself free and launch his body towards his corner! It was out of sheer desperation, everyone knew. But he couldn't afford to go on like this. It hurt too much, it needed to STOP!
And thusly, with that in mind, at long last, he reached out his hand to clasp Felicia's...

...and met with thin air.
Collapsing against his own corner, Fatih could only watch as Felicia withdrew her palm. Dropping down from the ring apron, she simply offered the huge Turk a dirty look... before making her way around the ring and towards the bottom of the ramp. There, coming face to face with Luis Fernando, she paused for a moment... before offering the manager a simple shrug, and making her way up the ramp and out of the arena.
Fatih had been abandoned.
"W-wait what?"
"Fatih's had plenty of chance to tag her before, and he chose not to," Sable said, as way of explanation, "At some point, that opportunity is gonna run out."
"True..." Frankie admitted, "But isn't she passing up her chance to be... y'know... potential tag champ?"
"Lemme put it to you this way... Would you really wanna be tag champ alongside HIM?"
The 'him' in question seemed to be rather rapidly coming to the realisation that right now he was in severe danger. He was on one leg, injured, without a partner, and with his back to his foe. Gingerly, supporting himself on the ropes, he turned to come face-to-face with...
Zynda.

It seemed that whilst Fatih had been coming to terms with the fact he was now by himself, Drew had taken advantage of the fact that he most certainly wasn't. One tag later, and now the injured Anatolian had been left to deal with the masked monster he had avoided thus far. She was fresh, filled with renewed energy. And he was...
No. No it wasn't going to go down like this.
Charging forward with all the energy he could muster, he simply barged into Zynda, shunting her away! And for a moment - just the tiniest moment - it seemed like he might still have the fight to go through with this...
Right up until that leg buckled.
As he'd shoved forward, he'd become incapable of supporting his own weight. Stumbling, the best he could do was to fall to one knee. It wouldn't save him.
Bounding off the ropes, the Violent Degenerate used that gift of momentum to bounce back, stepping up onto the Khan's one raised knee - and audibly connecting a swinging leg to the side of his head!
"Shining Wizaaard!"
And then for Fatih... everything lost focus. It was like being underwater, colours merging together, indistinguishable between the blurs. A hollow sound filled his ears as he tried to make sense of the reality dropping away. He tried to clutch onto something... anything to bring the focus back. There was a noise of sorts. Someone speaking over the weight on his body. He just needed to find that noise... to focus on it... to hear the words...
"THREE!"
...And with the ring of the bell, it was all over.

"And your winner, by pin-fall... THE VIOLENT DEGENERAAAAATES!"
By the time Fatih had come fully around, the Degenerates were already in full celebratory swing, both competitors and their manager gesturing wildly out towards the audience. It was all he had left in him to roll from the ring and to make his slow, limping exit. He was furious... but all too beat-up to do anything about it now.
Overhead, the last few moments of the match were on repeat.
"So..." Greg lead in, "The Violent Degenerates in their debut match in the Chapel, have managed to make it through to the second round of our tag team tournament! Having taken on the challenge of Fatih and Felicia-"
"Let's be honest Greg," Frankenhowl cut in with a bit of a grin and a nudge, "I think EVERYONE in that match was taking on the challenge of Fatih. Including Felicia!"
"Well..." the zebra hesitated, "Not to take anything away from the Degenerates victory but..."
"But they won against a shit team? Who hated each other?" Sable offered her own input, "Let's see 'em win in the NEXT round. Y'know, against people who've actually won matches? Then you can start riding their dicks about 'having taken on the challenge' or whatever."
"Well... er..." Greg just gave up, giving out a sigh, "Who've we got next for our first round?"
As the Degenerates music faded away DJ Frankenhowl took to her feet. Seemed that everyone was gonna be getting the answer to Greg's question at once.

"Aaand for your next bout-!" she began, drawing a hush across the arena, "Hailing in from San Francisco, California, she stands at 5'11" and 170lbs... Denise Konosso!"
That familiar electronic beat filled the arena as the lights began to strobe - the Chapel flickering in and out of existence for moments at a time. And entering in through that tripping light was the recognisably red-haired lemur who only last week had scored her own victory over the Mongol Mauler! Revelling in the cheers of the crowd, she allowed herself to weave a little to the beat before finally coming to a halt at the top of the stage.
"And her tag team partner," Frankie continued over the pulsing rythm, "Hailing all the way from Edinburgh, Scotland, she stands a full 6'3" and 220lbs... Kallan McAllister!"
The throbbing beat soon faded to be replaced by the shredding guitars of Kallan's Scotland The Brave! As the big canine stepped her way into view, the flashing lights faded away to be replaced by a cool blue - a single strip of white highlighting the path the two partners would take to make their way to the ring. Pulling up side-by-side with their ally, the two offered each other an acknowledging nod, before making their way down the ramp. The crowd were going absolutely ballistic for the duo.
"So," Greg prompted, "What do you guys think of these two as a team?"
"You can hear the congregation, right?" the DJ chuckled, still on her feet, "I think that more than answers your question!"
"They're two of the bigger names in our business," their vampiric co-commentator admitted, "Just seeing one of their names by itself reads 'title contender'. Together though? Other teams just better hope their tag game ain't as great as their solo work."

Rolling into the ring, the pair stepped up - and came face-to-face with the Violent Degenerates. It seemed the team had not quite taken their leave since the last match, and now, with Scotland the Brave slowly fading away in the background, all that was left in the air between them was an eerie tension. Both groups staring off in uncomfortable silent.
"You know..." And then it was broken. "I always think it's worth getting a measure of your fellow competitors." It seemed Fernando had taken on his role as the Degenerates mouthpiece once more - prowling around the four competitors as they retained their focus on each other. "Kallan McAllister and Denise Konosso. Biiig names on the singles circuit I'll tell you that much for free. At the same time, this is a TAG tournament, and you want to know the big name on the tag circuit?" a small grin emerged from beneath his moustache, "The Violent Degenerates."
Pausing a moment mid-stride, he took a look down at his suit. Taking a second to straighten it out, he glanced back up before taking a march directly between the two teams - speaking out to the audience.
"You should all know, this is special. There is a LOT of star power in this ring! Kallan McAllister and Denise Konosso, sharing a ring with Drew Fionnlagh and Zynda - for the first time ever! Somebody take a picture!" he held his arms wide, "We'll call this... a 'moment'." Holding that pose a little longer - seemingly expecting a few pictures to actually be taken - Luis allowed his declared 'moment' to leave an impression, before finally clicking to his clients. It seemed they were done here.
Breaking eye-contact, the Violent Degenerates took their exit. They felt the message left was clear. Frankie on the other hand...

"What was THAT all about?"
"Well, I dunno about you," Sable waved her phone around, "But I got MY picture!"
"By teaming together, Kallan and Denise have painted a target on their backs. And I think the Violent Degenerates have taken notice..." Greg gave his take on the matter, "However, if we're ever to see that match-up... well, the duo will have to make it through THIS fight first! Frankie - their opponents?"
"You got it! Now, hailing from the dohyos of Japan - standing at 5'11" and weighing in at an exact 300lbs - iiit's Daisy!"
The heavy brass of the great sumo heralded her arrival. Just as the week before, a procession began - albeit this time a little bit abridged. The Disciples sowed their salt as the enormous hippo emerged. The swordsman followed, coming to a halt alongside Daisy at the head of the ramp. She began her ceremony - the claps and the stomps. 'Casting out the demons'. As it came to a close, she signalled to Frankie to continue � now readied for the combat ahead.
"Aaand her tag team partner - he stands at 5'11 and weighs in at 220lbs! He's the two-ring afficianado - Ryltohn!"
'R-r-r-r-r-r-right about now~'
Bursting onto the scene, the grey dragon provided a significant contrast to his tag team partner. Swinging a few fists at the air, the rising salt mists from Daisy's Disciples helped the bulky figure deliver a striking image. He looked like an action star, emerging from the dusty wastes, ready to throw down! As a last dramatic gesture, he landed a final punch down to the ground - setting off a few white pyros from the stage. Satisfied with the entry made, he joined Daisy, starting their path to the ring!
"Quite a team of two extremes here!" Greg observed.
"You're right," Sable gave a fanged grin, "Ryltohn is really buff, and Daisy is really fat!"
Frankenhowl decided to outright ignore her commentary partner; "It's gonna be a cool mix of styles! You got a Sumo teamed up with a Boxer - can't exactly say you've seen that in any other sport can yah?"

Entering the ring, Daisy and Ryltohn at last came face-to-face with Kallan and Denise. All four of them were recognised in their respective fields - and all well-recognised by the Congregation at large. There was a buzz at this meeting, and excitement among the crowd.
Stepping forward, the Scottish collie offered a bow to the sumo. To their side, Denise and Ryltohn met hands. Small signs of respect shared between stars who soon enough would be exchanging blows in this very same ring...
"It's gonna be one hell of a match, with the two experienced wrestlers having to see if they can match wits with a boxer and a sumo. It's gonna be a real clash of the styles! And we'll be bringing that action to you live... right after this break!"