Ringwars 22 - DVD - BG East

Details

• Format: DVD
• Studio: BG East
• SKU: 365565
• Category: Fetish

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Cast

Alexi Adamov, Caleb Brand, Dick Rick, Donnie Drake, Exavier, Jobe Zander, Paul Hudson, Scott Starr

Description

Blond Versus Brunet Many BG East fans crave blond-on-brunet action in the ring, and the more brutal the better! This one's a doozy, with two big, experienced pros squaring off, itching to give each other a good, old-fashioned bruising. Longtime fans should be familiar with both wrestlers. Square-jawed Donnie Drake, with the dark club-kid haircut, is first in the ring, still stretching his beefy muscle when shaggy blond Caleb Brand, fuming as usual, storms through the ropes to join him. Caleb promises Donnie a good, hard thrashing, to which threat Donnie smirks and responds lackadaisically, "We'll see about that." The two bound towards each other, locking up, classic collar and elbow, hands at the base of the others' skull. Donnie snapmares Caleb to the mat, promising the golden-locked hothead all the fight he can handle. Seconds later, Caleb evens the score, and only a minute or two into the first fall, already it's a great day for fans of give-and-take mat action, served up by two well-trained and experienced ring pros. Their fists cocked in front of their chests, the two men circle each other warily. Typically, Caleb likes to bust rookie butt, small fries compared to him, just one indication of the type of cold, hard, and sometimes cowardly character this man is. Think back on his demolition of greenhorns like Shannon Embry, Gavin Keys, and Velvet Revolver, ambitious youngsters that Caleb sent limping home to their mamas, some never to show their pretty faces in the BGE ring again. Caleb's not always the villain, but even when he's purportedly the hero, it's a safe bet that his opponent will be pissing blood after the match. Donnie is a different story. Caleb may have a slight edge in overall experience, but it is only slight. As Donnie has proved in repeated no-holds-barred contests in the past (including two very popular Wrestler Spotlight videos of his own), this guy needs no encouragement to go ruthless and dirty to even the score against a dirtier fighter, and if Caleb is already aware of that fact, he must want to give Drake all the encouragement he can when he swipes at Donnie's hamstrings with the heels of his boots. Donnie is no stranger to cheap shots either, and though he is the bigger of the two, he and Caleb make for a very even match. Caleb dismisses the reality TV star as a "flash in the pan," already in the final seconds of his fifteen minutes of fame. His mistreatment of Drake is tasty, partly for its own sake, because Caleb is a maestro of physical abuse, delivered with a headsman's deadpan work ethic, and partly for its promise of comeuppance as a fired-up Donnie Drake demands payback. "I'm Not a Dirty Guy!" - Uh huh, Right! Caleb gets boners off his own capacity for cruelty, and he gets even more wound up against somebody who can take it and dish it back up ... so long as he's winning. Getting a big, hot-blooded pro grappler like Drake to submit, now that's a victory! Brand may think Donnie is a "flash in the pan," but Donnie's no quitter, and his capacity for rallying, after what would most certainly be a finisher for most wrestlers, is just as astounding as Caleb's capacity for inventing and carrying out new forms of bodily abuse. You have to admire this blond heel's eye for detail. At one point he's got Donnie by the toe of his boot. He twists it, twists it maniacally, and Donnie thrashes, at the mercy of his body's involuntary motor responses. Donnie tries to counter with a high kick that misses the side of Caleb's head by an inch. When Donnie succeeds at turning the tables on Caleb, pulling him up by his golden curls to deliver the thrashing this heel deserves, Caleb flees to the ropes, clinging to them while signaling for a timeout. Caleb begs Donnie to shake hands in a sportsmanlike gesture of respect. "I'm not a dirty guy," he assures him as Donnie looks skeptical about the proposed handshake ... and for good reason! Sensing now that Donnie is no inexperienced upstart, Caleb determines to weaken him with a series of hard side kicks capable of not just stopping his opponent in his tracks but hobbling him, and he completes a rigorous first fall with a spectacular finisher that looks crippling ... and gravitationally impossible. Encouraged by his first-fall victory and a quick and nasty followup that ends fall 2, Caleb gets cocky. There has to be a chapter in The Heel Handbook that requires bad-asses to overstep themselves from time to time. Caleb has Donnie locked in a crushing bearhug that looks like a surefire game-ender, but then, unexpectedly, Donnie elbow-slams his way free and reverses. It's hard to say when it's safe to count either of these guys out. Having demolished his opponent at what appears to be the end of the match, Caleb exits the ring and strides to the door. But Donnie, only half conscious at this point, calls out, his words slurring, "Where do you think you're going? We're not done yet. Get back here." Caleb stops dead in his tracks. Smelling the chance to up the brutality even further, he reenters the ring. Big mistake? Our lips are sealed, but you will definitely want to see the way this one ends. A sleeper? A piledriver? A surfboard submission? Or all of the above? As we said, our lips are sealed. The big finish is everything you might hope for. We won't spoil the surprise, but suffice it to say - you'll get a big rise out of the big finale! Spectacular, even startling performances from two of the very best in the business. "Ring Match Of The Year", anyone? Shoulder to the Grindstone Exavier's got the size advantage and the big muscle, but Hudson's a raging demon in the ring, a hard-gravel fighter for whom the phrase "I like to hurt people" might have been invented. While Exavier is rash, impetuous, and vain, Paul is scientific, strategic, and hellbent on destruction. He is a highly skilled and instinctual mat grappler, perhaps the most accomplished of many former amateurs on the BG Roster. For Paul, half the battle will be to keep Exavier flat on the ground where he can exact the most productive punishment. Though he too clearly knows his way around the mat, Exavier's always on the lookout for the easy win, the quick count, and the best camera angle to highlight his classic Roman profile. He goes big and bold, much to his opponent's chagrin. These wrestlers disliked each other the moment they first met at the BGE compound, so naturally we couldn't wait to put them in the squared circle together and watch the fireworks happen. And DO they! On his feet, Exavier relies on his weight and size advantage. He storms into Paul like a runaway locomotive. But speed is Paul's ace card, letting Exavier brain himself against the ring post once or twice before dragging him down to his knees for a grinding side headlock. Most of us think of Exavier as a big talker who bullies his opponents with a barrage of insults and threats, but Paul doesn't give him much opportunity to speechify in this contest. His quicksilver moves keep his opponent (and us) breathless from the beginning. The blond live wire takes the first fall with a punishing straight armbar you can feel through your TV, clenching Exavier's left shoulder between his thighs, legs across the neck and chest to fasten the big guy to the mat. Paul immediately follows up the win with a jackhammer assault on Exavier's weakened left arm, driving his knees to the elbow and then cranking the arm up straight and tight behind the man's back. The big talker is reduced to panicked gasps and gibberish. Then Paul pulls him to his feet to ram shoulder to shoulder with such ferocity that we half expect him to crack Exavier's humerus in two. Paul Hudson delivers a university-level course in how to destroy an opponent by targeting a single body part, relentlessly and maliciously. Collision Course Stay alert, gentlemen, because anything can happen in this battle. In a sudden turnaround, Exavier takes the second fall, in an impressive demonstration of not only the man's ability to survive Hudson's preceding assault but also his tactical prowess as a submission - as well as pro wrestler. He does to Paul's left leg exactly what Paul did to his left arm, and even after Paul submits and the bell sounds, Exavier continues the concentrated, vicious attack on the leg. Paul is methodical; Exavier is maniacal. "It's just the beginning," the big guy taunts, as Paul yelps and clutches his throbbing leg. Fully confident in his abilities and luck at this point, Exavier exults in Paul's seemingly helpless quivering, yet Exavier's words will soon come back to haunt him, because the hard-fought first and second falls are but a prelude to the rest of this rock 'em, sock 'em match, in which the outcomes are never certain and neither man is totally assured of victory ... or, for that matter, survival. These guys put on a clinic in brutal wrestling. Now both wrestlers must fight with seriously damaged limbs, so each assault causes almost as much pain for the attacker as for the victim. Wrestling fans know this situation makes for the most intense drama in wrestling, and we are in the hands of a couple of pros here who know how to escalate the drama and agony to dizzying heights. But we're not talking about clowning around and striking poses. These dudes WRESTLE, and 100% of the action is these guys' throwing it ALL down on the mat. They endure whatever pain is necessary to ensure that their opponent suffers even more than they do. The advantage switches from back and forth, from man to man, inside and outside the ring, and with each turn of events the fight's savagery swells, threatening to consume both combatants until a backbreaking, jaw-busting finisher, totally unforeseeable, decides the day. Exavier and Hudson may not have the ripped bodies or the prettyboy faces of some of our more popular fan favorites but what they DO have is tenacity and talent, which they demonstrate in this explosive match in spades! Often underestimated by fans and armchair-promoter bloggers, Paul Hudson and Exavier bring a seldom-rivaled, wildly exciting fireworks to Ringwars 22. This is one match you will never forget! The Big Dick versus The Big Centerpiece "They told me I was working someone named ... Dick Rick." "They got that right." "What the hell was your mom thinking when she named you 'Richard Rick'?" With affected patience, Dick Rick explains that "Rick" is his name, but "Dick" is a "title." Jobe frees his sunglasses from the waistband of his tights, as if he needs his shades to process this information: "All right, well, your mama named you that, but, you know, the GODS named me 'The Dick.'" His hands sweep down to the turkey-leg bulge at his crotch for validation. The gods may, indeed, have named Jobe Zander "The Dick," because nobody we know of is as vicious, insensitive, and so totally wrapped up in himself as he. Well, except for maybe Dick Rick. The chance to pit these two brutal narcissists against each other in the ring was, quite frankly, irresistible. A showdown over outstanding accomplishments in total dickery was just too damned titillatingly tempting and too terribly tasty, and we at BG East, to cite the great Oscar Wilde, "can resist everything but temptation." The bell sounds for the start of the match. Dick offers his hand to Jobe in an ostentatious show of good sportsmanship. He even claims, with grandiloquent self-effacement, to understand how his mere presence might be construed as an unintended insult to The Centerpiece and humbly offers to excuse himself from the match. Like two prima donna sopranos in the same spotlight, can two world-class dicks share the same wrestling ring? But Dick is not halfway through the ropes when Jobe, true to form, attacks him from behind. He hurls the handsome hunk to the corner for a furious stompdown, followed by a gasping, choking, deep-tissue throat-massage against the top rope! Jobe promises Dick he'll be "pissing blood" before he's done with him as the violence to the primped and polished body-beautiful escalates. Then, after three speedy two-counts in succession fail to provide an easy pinfall win, Jobe starts getting really testy! He goes for the low blow ... twice ... which is enough to fire Rick up for a serious retaliation. In case there was any doubt that Dick Rick was only pretending to be nice earlier, the spine-busting savagery of his payback speaks for itself ... and gives us exactly what we were hoping for. "It's You. It's Me. That's It!" When Jobe, caught in a crushing bodyscissors, screams, "I can't breathe!" Dick responds with an enthusiastic "Good!" You have to hand it to Zander, though; when he suffers, he suffers big: Greek-tragedy big, Italian-funeral big, unremembered-anniversary BIG. Dick has to find agony on such an epic scale deeply and richly satisfying, especially after the hell he has just survived (barely). At this point he'll settle for nothing less than a long, tormenting choke, or a screech-inducing clutch, or a set of boot stomps to the gut. As Dick Rick poses for his own - and our - delectation and contemplates his next assault on The Centerpiece, Jobe rolls under the bottom rope to the arena floor to escape. "Not that easy," Dick says as he steps down to fetch him. He winds Jobe's arms into the top and middle ropes and uses him as a punching bag, rearing back a couple of steps to raise the momentum of his fist. Jobe hangs there like wet laundry, shrieking wet laundry, while Dick mercilessly contrives to finish the guy's career at BG East once and for all. This is just the beginning. Jobe is trapped with his dick hanging out (literally), pleading for someone to save him. "There's nobody," Dick tells him, with grim satisfaction. "There is ... nobody. It's you. It's me. That's it. That's it!" When Jobe finally says "I quit," both wrestlers' chests are heaving as they gulp down air, but Dick is not finished with The Centerpiece yet, not by a long shot. From the looks of things, Dick doesn't want Jobe Zander to quit, he wants him, to cite the great Auric Goldfinger, "to die." This is brutal action that punches every sado-erotic button there is, and punches it HARD. At the sweat-drenched coup de grâce on the ungiving floor at ringside, it's both easy and impossible to imagine these two are truly finished with each other. And yet on it goes, sweaty and sexy, unrelenting and merciless, totally absorbing and riotously riveting action from two very savvy and sexy ring practitioners. One-on-one action is seldom this intense and chaotic. The pain, the humiliation, the rage, the savagery, Dick Rick-versus-Jobe Zander has it all! Enjoy, you sick bastards, enjoy! Over and over again, you will enjoy! Age and Treachery versus Youth and Skill Sporting blue trunks and his severest haircut to date, Alexi Adamov is a knockout. The man is not only one of the hottest wrestlers on the BG East roster but one of the strongest as well. Over the years he has moved from gym-bunny recruit - dismissed by fellow wrestlers as a "doormat" - to rugged warrior intimidated by nobody. Now he's on every ambitious wrestler's wish list for future matches. Alexi doesn't have to bark a lot to garner attention. His physique commands the wrestling ring with quiet confidence. Warming up before the match, Alexi looks like everybody's fantasy of a babyface hero, exquisitely well-muscled and boyishly handsome. Beefy pro boy Scott Starr tries to intimidate Alexi with big talk and he-man swagger, trying hard (perhaps too hard) to dismiss the challenge Alexi's well-hewn muscle represents. Alexi, though, looks more than ready for the challenge in this youth-versus-experience match between the eternally dreamy Adamov and the considerably more ring savvy and slightly older opponent, Scott Starr. The crisis of the match is whether Scott can overcome Alexi's massive muscle and whether Alexi can do what has to be done to take down an opportunistic sadist and well hung ring veteran like Starr. Both prove to be more than capable antagonists, but the question remains: who can vanquish (and, as it turns out, nearly demolish) the other? "Been doing this for a while, kid," Scott boasts, after breaking a test of strength with a knee to Alexi's midsection. Barely fazed by the blow, Alexi mentions that he noticed a few gray hairs on Scott's head while the two of them were chest to chest, hands clenched over their shoulders. Lest Alexi underestimate what kind of heel he's up against, Scott follows one cheap shot with another, raking his fingernails across his opponent's eyes. Alexi staggers backwards and falls to the mat, temporarily blinded. These guys have not met before this moment in the ring. Any respect they get from the other will be earned by brute force. Alexi raises his hands, inviting Scott in for another test of strength. As Scott draws near, Alexi rams him in the midsection with his shoulder, driving him backwards to the ropes. Then he pulls the "fucking scumbag" in for a side headlock and drags him down to the mat, Alexi's biceps grinding the nape of the man's neck. Yep, Alexi learned a long time ago not to play "nice guy" in the BG East ring. Shit's Getting Real Both men may have underestimated each other at first, but the give-and-take action that follows proves that neither is going to back away. "What's your name?" Alexi taunts, as he grinds Scott's chest between powerful thighs. He wants Scott to say his name as a kind of tapout signal. "Sandy? Suzy? Am I close?" A little too sure of himself, Alexi lets his opponent wriggle free of the hold and gain the upper hand, wrenching the right arm up behind Alexi's back. Scott "Super" Starr is not about to let some "cute kid" show him up. Scott Starr knows all the little nasty moves and pressure points to cause an opponent maximum discomfort. He goes for the fingers, stretching middle and ring fingers out wide. This guy is mean and loves to hurt young punks who don't know their place, and no tactic is too low so long as it gives him the upper hand. Scott licks his lip to the sound of Alexi's moans. Alexi scrambles to regain the advantage, but Scott stays right on top of him, choking him against the bottom rope and almost succeeding in knocking him out with a rear choke. "Let me show you what an old man can do!" he says, with cynical delight. Tempers rise. What starts out as two wrestlers' kinda feeling each other out turns vicious over time as neither gains a clear edge over the other. After a grueling chinlock cranks out the match's first submission, the victor doesn't even let the loser get his face off the mat before renewing the attack. A frenzied and brutal fight follows in the second fall, evening the score and setting up an unforgettable climax. Alexi has never looked so self-assured as he does in this fight, and few wrestlers have put him through his paces as relentlessly (and sadistically) as Scott does. Alexi, always something of a poker face, exudes confidence and a seductive hint of cruelty in this match. He's never had an opponent more adept than Scott Starr at rousing his best fight in the ring. The outcome is unpredictable to the last minute, yet nothing about it is out of keeping with what we've seen before during this intense and visually stunning match-up. Since the wrestlers, close in tenacity, play their cards exactly right, ultimately the win goes to the guy whom nature ("red in tooth and claw") has dealt the better hand. Both men rise to the challenge, concurrently elevating the competitive tension and the audience's pulse rate. All bets are off as it becomes clear that either man is capable of claiming the ultimate victory. Everything depends on who's willing to take the fight to the limit. Unpredictable as it is, the outcome of this match is an absolutely perfect conclusion to a hard-on inducing main event. This is great wrestling entertainment most of all because it's great WRESTLING, and nobody but nobody delivers the real shit like BG East!