Kruscher stops in his tracks and narrows his eyes as the not-quite-as-large frame of Kala Kahuna enters into view. The big Hawaiian sports an open button-up and shorts, with slippers on his feet and bandaged toes.
Kahuna (folds arms): Well, look who it is. Da Ruski.
Kruscher walks past him.
Kahuna: Or maybe I should say rooster. Cos what you did to Cyclone last week? Dat was some chicken-shit.
Kruscher stops yet again, slowly lets go of the carry-on and turns around. Kahuna unfolds his arms as the Moscow Machine engulfs his personal space.
Kruscher: What I did last week was erase a nuisance. Do you want to be next?
The staredown holds for 30 seconds before the Russian looks down at Kahuna's toes and lets out a chuff of air. Perhaps a laugh.
Kruscher: You couldn't even beat that slobbering manlet. (looks up) And now you can stand up to me? That you can beat ME?
Kahuna (averts gaze): ... I don't know if I can beat you (looks at him with wide eyes), but I am gonna beat yo' ass!
The booming voice of Cyrus Reed nearly shakes the drone out of the sky: HEY!
Neither man moves, even as the 2.08-metre-tall Deputy Head of Security approaches, enveloping them both in his shadow. He sports a splint on the broken nose Vito Montani gave him last week.
Reed: That's edough! Save it for tha ring.
Kahuna: You heard him. See you in da ring.
The Hawaiian backs away, and then turns with Kruscher glaring after him before the video ends.
DS: Wow...
SDS: Indeed. Even after his heartbreaking loss to the Honey Badger last week, Kahuna's spirit and sense of right and wrong weren't dampened one bit.
DS: Too bad his brain got scrambled in that match. Does he have any idea what he signed up for?
David Bekker: The following contest is scheduled for 1-fall!
Deep, booming trumpets play. Kruscher marches onto the field in his red shorts and black boots, his expression as cold and hard as his wide, muscular frame. The crowd boos loudly.
David Bekker: On the way to the ring, from Moscow, Russia, standing 196 centimetres tall and weighing in at 132 kilos, KRUSCHER!
SDS: And here he comes, the Moscow Machine. He has been on the Warpath as of late. Absolutely OBSESSED with becoming the World Dominion Champion.
DS: He's a man on a mission, Darryl. He will destroy ANYONE standing in his way.
SDS: Initially, his cause was a just one. At the Saturday Night Super Fight in November, the Gauntlet Match to crown the first-ever Holder of Dominion, he ran through Kahuna, Gary Wildman, Badger, Seth and Montani to claim the belt, only for Paul Grizzly to swoop in as a surprise 7th entrant to take the belt. Kruscher had a legitimate claim then, but what his actions as of late have become indefensible-
DS: Indefensible?!
SDS: What he did to Johnny Cyclone-
DS: Johnny Cyclone had it coming! Just like Kahuna has it coming. Whatever happens when that bell rings, he brought it on himself.
Kruscher climbs the steps, wipes his feet and enters the ring. He slowly turns his steel gaze to the edge of the field from whence he came.
Some Hawaiian music remixed with alternative rock starts playing. The crowd pops for the big Kahuna with a green lei, tie-dyed orange tights and a long wizard beard. He throws up to shaka signs before slapping hands with fans on the way down the embankment.
David Bekker: And his opponent, from Ewa Beach, Hawaii in the USA, standing 185 centimetres and weighing in at 130 kilos, Kala Kahuna
SDS: The final-ever Heavyweight Champion of Jeffrey Campbell's old Passion Project Wrestling promotion, who has been struggling to find any footing in Psycho Style Wrestling.
DS: Bah! He's lucky he hasn't lost his footing. Look at that thing!
SDS: A wounded warrior is putting it likely. Stepping into the ring with Kruscher is an ordeal when you're healthy. Stepping inside with one good foot?
DS: It's suicide.
Kahuna reaches the ring and stares up at the Russian with the determination only reserved for the dead. He takes off his Lei and tosses it before stepping out of his slippers and climbing the steps. He stops on the apron, again staring down Kruscher. He then steps to the ropes and approaches.
Referee Bryan Mbuemo stands between both men.
SDS: You could cut the tension with a sword.
Mbuemo calls for the bell.
SDS: Kahuna with the first shot! Open Palm Uppercut to the face!
DS: What?!
SDS: And there's another one and another! Backing the Moscow Machine into the ropes! Unleashing a flurry on the Russian- and Krusher with the right hand of his own, knocking Kahuna back!
Kahuna falls to one knee while Kruscher shakes his head to regain himself.
SDS: Kahuna back to his feet- And he gets turned inside out! What a clothesline by Kruscher!
DS: Oh, he's mad now!
SDS: Kruscher, now dragging Kahuna to his feet. Polish Throw by the former Sambo Champion! And now a Ground and Pound; raining down vicious, brutal hammerfists! And the forearms! Trying to cave in Kala Kahuna's skull!
The ref has to pull Kruscher off so he can check on Kahuna while the Russian paces like a predator.
Mbuemo: Kala? Can you hear me? I can call this man. Just say the word.
Kahuna: Don't...
Mbuemo (kneels): What?
Kahuna (pushes him away lightly: Don't stop it. It's my match. I'll finish it. I'll finish him.
Mbuemo stands and steps back. Kahuna begins to rise to his feet.
SDS: Kruscher with a Release German Suplex! Not giving Kahuna a chance to recover.
DS: Tossed him like a bag of potatoes!
Kahuna crawls for a moment. Kruscher stands over him, beckoning with arms and yelling, "GET UP!"
At the exact moment the Hawaiian rises off the mat, he is scooped for a Powerslam. Only instead of slamming him, Kruscher runs towards a corner.
DS: Oh, Darryl!
SDS: I see it, Diogo!
Kruscher drives Kahuna's spine into the corner.
SDS: NEPO-
Kruscher keeps hold of Kahuna and charges at the opposing corner, again driving Kahuna's spine into it.
DS: -BODI-
Kruscher then runs to the centre of the ring and brings Kahuna down with a full-force, ring-rattling Powerslam.
SDS & DS: -MOST'!
Kruscher hooks the leg.
Mbuemo: 1! 2! 3! Ring the bell!
The trumpets return to loud boos and Kruscher rises to one knee, seething.
David Bekker: Here is your winner, KRUSCHER!
SDS: The Moscow Machine stamping his authority!
DS: Pure dominance, Darryl! Kahuna never stood a chance. This is more like it!
Kruscher stands. Mbuemo tries to raise his hand, only for the Russian to pull it away and glare the ref into submission. He then looks down at the fallen Kahuna, at his injured foot, and stomps on it!
SDS: Oh come on, now! You already beat the man!
DS: He's sending a message.
SDS: What message?
DS: Put on some damn shoes.
DS: Put on some damn shoes.
Mbuemo orders Kruscher out of the ring before kneeling to check on Kahuna, who is writhing in agony. The Russian powerhouse leaves without a second thought or glance, walking towards the grandstand and disappearing in the concourse.
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