In which Chaz begins to screw over Frank RyanCarrWeber

Chaz had been pestering his brother for a shot at his title since he'd won it, and delighted when Frank finally agreed, and the match was set as the final bout on a Saturday TW card. As per TW rules, Frank set the style of match - an NHB submission match, with no count-outs or disqualifications. Frank knew his brother liked to fight dirty, and this type of match would, he figured, at least give the kid a chance at not getting squashed. Frank had good reason to be confident - for a teen of his height and weight, he was extremely well-muscled, and also very agile from years spent studying gymnastics. Chaz was thrilled just to have the match finally set up... but now he had to make sure he'd win it, so he could become the first cross-weight champion.

To arrange for his brother's loss, Chaz knew he'd have to do more than get Karl to help from ringside - Frank needed to be tired before the match for Chaz to win. For this, he decided to exploit the new, as-yet unproven 'faction' in TW - the Heavyweight Heels. After school one day, he walked boldly up to Trace and Kale as they were loading their books into the trunk of Kale's car. He proposed that he could get Frank to challenge one of them. This would enable whichever one of them he challenged to get another win on their record, and would ensure Frank's unreadiness for the title match against Chaz. It was perfect, for everyone except Frank. And getting Frank to challenge Kale would be easy - Chaz was well-aware of how disgusted Frank was at the beatdowns going on lately.... inciting him to challenge one of the three main agitators would be easy.

The saturday of the title shot, the first match was a particularly one-sided demolition by Ryan on new middleweight Elton, after which Trace and Kale added to Elton's punishment at Ryan's hands. Chaz convinced his brother quickly that 'someone needs to teach those ass holes a lesson.'

Frank was unsure at first: "Chaz, I don't know... true, those guys fight dirty, but they're also good in the ring, especially Trace and Kale... I'm just a middleweight."

"Oh come on, Frank!" Chaz flattered his brother, "you're not *just* a middleweight, you're the frickin' Middleweight Division Champion. If anyone's gonna stand up for the guys in your weight class, it should be you. I heard even Kevin's not happy about the Heavyweight Heels, and he's makin some sort of statement tonight."

Frank considered for a minute, and finally reluctantly agreed to challenge Kale to an impromptu match immediately. The more Frank thought about it, the more he wanted to kick one of their asses. And, being the champ, he was the middleweight to do it. His anger only increased when he found Patrick sprawled out in one of the private locker rooms while he was looking for Kale. Soon after, he found the heavyweight, and the match was set for immediately.

Frank entered the ring first, and signaled for the crowd to be quiet. The audience knew him as fair-minded, and respected his wrestling ability. "I'm tired of watching the self-named 'Heavyweight Heels' tear through middleweights like pack animals. We might stand a chance, if they fought fair. So I, the middleweight champion, challenge Kale, the heavyweight poser, to a match right now... and if I lose, I'll forfeit my jacket to the next four most qualified middleweight contenders. But when I win, you'll see that the little guy can come out on top.

Kale lumbered down to the ring, flanked by Trace and Ryan. Frank swallowed, hard, as he saw the three. Trace and Ryan sat in the front row while the ring announcer introduced them: "This match will go to one fall, with the loser facing the ramifications just outlined. First, in the corner to my left, is the challenger, standing 5'10", weighing in at 178 pounds, Frank!" The middleweight underdog was cheered, as was his brother when Chaz came down to stand in Frank's corner, accompanied by his sometimes-"manager," Karl. "And in the opposite corner, weight in at 240 pounds, Kale!"

Kale raised his arms and smiled at the boos which emanated from the small audience in attendance that day. He was as buff as ever, shirtless and bulging muscle. Frank, though smaller, was even more sculpted, and far more experienced. The bell rang and the two circled, the difference in their sizes obvious immediately. A lockup saw Frank forced back into the ropes, where the ref demanded a clean break. Instead, Frank got a knee to his ripped gut, which his toned abs only partially buffeted. Another lock-up, and Frank managed to toss Kale into the ropes, although the clothesline he attempted was less than effective on the big heavyweight, who countered immediately with a far more effective standing clothesline of his own.

Frank scrambled to his feet and dodged just in time to avoid another clothesline. He turned, and was greeted with a kick to the gut by Kale, who hooked Frank's arms behind his back and pedigree'd him hard to the mat. Frank rolled over, his hands over his face, blocking his view of what Kale did next - a double-knee drop to the middleweight's ripped, but now almost useless, gut. Kale pulled Frank to his feet and tossed him into the ropes. He attempted a clothesline, which Frank ducked, and then a back-body drop, which Frank jumped over, and pulled Kale down into a pin. Frank was surprised at himself, the audience was in adulation, and Kale was furious when he kicked out at two.

The heavyweight was up first, but when he got to Frank, he was greeted by a fist to the gut. Kale doubled over from the unexpected blow, and Frank pulled him into a front-facelock. Pausing for a moment to catch his breath, Frank cranked on the facelock before grabbing a fistfull of Kale's shorts and straining to snap him over in a suplex. Kale arched up on the mat, his back stinging from the maneuver, and Frank got to his feet as quickly as his light fatigue would allow. He waited for Kale to rise, and hit him when he did with a standing dropkick that sent him back to the ropes. Frank bounced Kale off the ropes, sending him accross the ring, and pulled him into the mat with an armdrag, which he held onto and pulled into a wicked armbar behind the muscular heavyweight's back.

Kale couldn't believe he was getting dominated by a middleweight. He struggled to his feet and reversed the arm-bar, cranking Frank's arm high behind him. Frank winced at the power behind the heavyweight's version of the hold. He tried to reverse, but Kale only held tighter, keeping the armbar with one hand while he wrapped his other arm around Frank's neck in a chinlock. The pain was intense in Frank's shoulder, which was beginning to feel more and more like it was about to get dislocated. He couldn't twist out of the hold, though. In desperation, he slammed his free elbow into Kale's thick torso, to little effect. Five more, however, served to weaken the hold to the point where Frank was able to pull free.

The two squared off again, and Kale suprised Frank by spearing him to the mat. Frank was winded, and when he stood up, Kale was waiting with a clothesline that sent Frank over the top rope and to the floor below. The ref started counting, but was distracted when Kale began arguing with Ryan, who had gotten to the apron. Ryan shoved Kale, and stepped into the ring. The ref occupied himself with the massive heavyweight, who kept trying to get past the ref to Kale. Kale, meanwhile, had slipped to the outside, where Trace was already holding Frank in a full nelson. Kale approached and was surprised by a kick to the gut from Frank. He sucked it up and approached again, sort of from the side. He slammed a fist into the middleweight's ample crotch, causing Frank to wail. The ref turned to look, but Ryan tried to rush past him and he was again distracted.

The heavyweight pounded ten fists to the teen's chest and gut before Trace released him. They each wrapped an arm around his head, and performed a double-suplex to the padded cement floor. Frank was aching now from head to toe, and the two had no intention of relenting until Ryan's clever distraction wore too thin for the ref to buy. They pulled him to his feet, and slammed his head on the ring apron. Trace then lifted him into a slam position and rammed his back into the pole three times before slamming Frank down on his knee in a back-breaker which Kale worsened by sitting hard on the middleweight's gut. Trace pushed Frank off, and went back to his seat, where he was soon joined by Ryan, smiling broadly. Neither Chaz nor Karl had budged from their seats at ringside.

The ref turned to see Kale helping a totally-wiped out Frank back into the ring. Frank lay limply on the mat, and the heavyweight took his time getting back to him. Kale flexed for the audience, and then finally pulled Frank to his feet and slammed him at center-ring. The heavyweight kicked Frank in the side, rolling him over, and sat down on his lower back. The heavyweight leaned forward, wrapped an arm under Frank's chin, and pulled him back into a painful sleeper/camel clutch combination. Frank was trapped, Kale's 240 pounds pressing him firmly to the mat, and the heavyweight's massive arm holding him suspended further back than his back was intended to stretch. This match, he realized, had been a brash mistake.

Kale poured on the pressure, leaning back as far as he could. He felt Frank flexing and straining beneath him, and wished to himself that the middleweight would just give up already. He almost got his wish, too, but just as Frank was about to submit, he realized the bottom rope was within reach of his foot. It took a massive effort, but he slid his ankle just over the ring apron. The ref demanded that Kale release the hold, which he did. Frank rolled out of the ring. Kale went to follow, but the ref stopped him. Trace objected, getting up on the ring Apron and beginning to argue with the ref, even stepping into the ring and shoving the ref a little.

Meanwhile, Ryan approached Frank on the outside. He executed a standing splash, slamming his almost 300 pounds down on Frank's frame, and then rolled the teen into the ring. He picked up a steel chair, checking to be sure that Trace still had the ref distracted. Kale pulled Frank up into a full nelson, and walked him over to Ryan, waiting on the ring apron with the chair. Chaz yelled, "FRANK! LOOK OUT!" just in time for Frank to open his eyes, see the chair coming towards him, and slip down out of the full nelson. Kale was knocked out cold by the unexpected blow. Ryan started to get into the ring, but Frank tripped him, and he fell full-weight onto Kale. The action made Trace even more anxious, which made the ref even more agitated.

When Ryan got off Kale, he turned into a smack from the chair, wielded by Frank, who pulled on all the energy he had left to smack Trace out of the ring before discarding the chair. The ref was confused, and didn't know what to do. The next thing he knew, Frank had collapsed on top of Kale. He knew what to do about that. ONE, TWO, THREE times his hand slapped the mat. The audience erupted in applause. Frank had beaten *all three* of the Heels, mostly alone! Chaz rushed in to share in his brother's victory, and helped Frank out to the changing area, where the middleweight went promptly to a recuperatory sleep.

The Heavyweight Heels, humiliated by the temporary setback, bickered amongst themselves until they could find an unsuspecting lightweight to take their aggression out on. Poor, poor Mikey.