David Bekker: Your opening contest is scheduled for one fall!
The sound of electricity is heard, and instead of the beeping, it's a heavy drumbeat accompanied by Argentine Rock. White fog covers the stage, and out walks a tall, lean, fair-skinned man in a white mask with a green cross on it covering his entire head, except for his dark eyes. He is clad in more white, with the green cross appearing on his fingerless gloves, trunks and boots.
He raises his hands, looking at them with a quizzical head tilt, then looks up, clenches them into fists, and slowly makes his way to the ring.
David Bekker: On the way to the ring, from Buenos Aires, Argentina, standing 183 centimetres and weighing in at 98 kilos, El Cirujano!
SDS: Two weeks ago, this man made his Fight Pit debut against the current no. 1 contender, Danys Vités. It was a losing effort, but he took tiny pieces out of the Haitian. We also can't overlook your history with him, Diogo.
DS: Yeah, man, I remember being in the hospital with that torn groin, thinking I could never perform again.
SDS: What are you talking about? You didn't wrestle again, you said.
DS: Of course, I did. (lifts sunglasses and winks)
Cirujano wipes his feet and enters the ring.
Some bossa nova music plays, and out walks a well-built Pardo man with cornrows in his hair and wearing yellow and green shorts. He cracks his neck and bounces on his feet before walking briskly down.
David Bekker: His opponent, from Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, standing 178 centimetres and weighing in at 99 kilos, Marcelo Sousa!
DS: Hey, isn't he that Festa chica's boyfriend?
SDS: A bit reductive, don't you think?
DS: It's true, isn't it?
SDS: Well, for our new viewers, he was Luisa Festa's tag team partner. They competed at the Saturday Night Super Fight in November in a 16-person cage match to crown the first-ever Tag Team Champions. A match won by the now-former champions, Team Wallace.
DS: I heard they wanted Festa, but she refused to sign unless they took him as well.
SDS: It's not my place to comment on that, or yours. They were drafted separately. Festa was drafted to the Madhouse as the 21st overall pick and has been seeing some success. Sousa was drafted to the Fight Pit as the 48th pick, now making his debut.
DS: Imagine you and your girl get a job at the same place, and your girl is higher on the totem pole. No way to live with that as a man.
SDS: How would you know?
DS: Trust me, I just do.
SDS: Well, regardless, this is a good chance for Sousa to showcase himself.
Sousa rolls into the ring and goes to his corner, shaking his arms and wrists. Cirujano is in his own corner, grabbing the ropes and leaning forward.
SDS: We can expect a good technical match-up here. As we've seen, Cirujano, a veteran, combines Lucha Libre with British Catch Wrestling. Sousa, proficient in Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu- a purple belt, actually.
DS: Heard Festa's a black belt. Now, it makes sense.
SDS: Will you stop?!
Referee Dan Masters calls for the bell to start the match.
The two men approach, both crouched with their hands up and palms open. At first, they don't touch. Sousa takes a step forward, Cirujano steps back. Cirujano takes a step forward, and Sousa steps back.
SDS: Chess match. Who makes the first move-Ooh! Cirujano with a high feint, going for a single leg. Great sprawl by Sousa! Now, trying to take the back.
Cirujuno rolls onto his side and grabs hold of Sousa's left hand.
DS: Whoops, say goodbye to your fingers.
Cirujano brutally bends Sousa's index and middle fingers backwards. Sousa cries out, abandoning his positional advantage to relieve the pressure, allowing the masked man to escape and get to his feet while still keeping hold.
SDS: There's that brutal joint-manipulation from the Surgeon. We saw this two weeks ago against Vités.
DS: It's his style, man. He just loves to break fingers.
SDS: Brutal, but effective, especially against a grappler. Cirujano maintaining wrist control. Twisting the arm. Forward roll by Sousa and now he's in control of Cirujano's arm- Takes him down a Judo throw!
DS: That was beautiful. I'll admit. Stay on him!
SDS: Sousa scrambling. Looking for a Rear Naked Choke. He's got one hook in, but Cirujano crawls to the bottom rope before the second.
DS: You have got to be quicker with that.
Sousa releases the hold cleanly and backs away with his hands raised. Cirujano pulls himself up using the ropes, glaring at the young Brazilian. Masters steps between them to facilitate the break.
SDS: Cirujano with a kick to the knee! He used the ref as a shield.
DS: Never take your eyes off the opponent. Rookie mistake.
SDS: And now he's back to that left hand again. Fingers are not supposed to bend that way. Now wrenching the entire arm over his shoulder for an Armbreaker!
Sousa screams, clutching his hand to his chest. Cirujano grabs the arm again and forces him to the ground before dropping knee after knee onto.
DS: He's dissecting this kid! Going to send him back to his girl in pieces. If she even still wants him.
SDS: Are you still going on about- Cirujano with a Fujiwara Armbar, and look at this! He's still pulling on the fingers. This man is an animal!
DS: If he can't use his fingers, what good is he?
SDS: Santos-
DS: I'm talking about wrestling!
SDS: What kind?
DS: The match happening in the ring. Get your head out of the gut- Oh, Sousa rolled him up.
SDS: Kick out by Cirujano! Both men to their feet.
Cirujano rushes in for a clothesline, but Sousa ducks and hits the ropes.
SDS: Sousa with a leaping forearm!
The crowd pops, but Sousa
SDS: Cirujano's down, but Sousa landed on that left hand.
DS: That's the problem. You get a break, but the pain stays.
SDS: To my knowledge, Sousa is right-handed, but the left hand balances, covers and braces you. That's instinct. Both men, again, to their feet. Sousa with a front waistlock. Belly-to-belly throw, but again the arm.
DS: Is he stupid? Why would you do a move like that? You bringing all his weight on your fingers.
SDS: Sousa with a cover. Cirujano again kicks out.
DS: Look at Sousa's face. He wanted this to be over so bad.
Sousa stands up and stalks Cirujano, waiting for him to rise. As the masked man gets to his feet, Sousa ducks under a wild swing, grabs him, and lifts him up into a Fireman's Carry.
SDS: He's got him up! Going for that Samoan Driver. He calls it Sousacide! No, the left arm!
DS: He couldn't keep hold of Cirujano's head.
Cirujano slips out into a sunset flip roll-up. Sousa kicks out. Both men scramble to their feet again, but the Surgeon is faster and grabs Sousa's compromised left arm.
He traps the arm behind Sousa's neck, spins him around, and drops him with a vicious neckbreaker.
DS: Scalpel Cutter! This one's over!
SDS: Not yet. He's not going for a cover!
Cirujano immediately grabs Sousa's leg, stepping over and pulling back on the neck while simultaneously hyper-extending the knee and trapping the injured arm.
SDS: A modified STF!
DS: The Cirujano Stretch! Sousa's trapped!
SDS: The pressure on the neck and his leg is immense, and that trapped arm has been tortured... Sousa taps out! Marcelo Sousa is forced to tap out!
Masters calls for the bell to end the match.
David Bekker: Here is your winner, by submission, El Cirujano!
SDS: The match is over. Let him go. Let him go, dammit!
The bell rings again and again, and Sousa keeps slapping the mat with his free hand while screaming. Masters tries to pull Cirujano off, but he will not let go. The crowd boos heavily.
SDS: He's going to cripple him. Let go!
DS: He's sending a message. To Heladas. To Vités. To the whole Thunderweight Division. Madhouse. Fight Pit. It doesn't matter. This is who you have to deal with!
Cirujano finally releases the hold. He stares down at Sousa, then at his own hands as his Argentine rock theme returns. Dan Masters kneels down to check on the Brazillian who groans and writhes on the mat as the masked man leaves.
DS: Well, at least his girl to go back to... maybe.
*SMACK!*
DS: OW!
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