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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
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"This is an absolute disaster!" JBL screamed, his voice cracking into a high pitch, ripping his headset off in pure, unadulterated panic. "No! That was a fluke! He got lucky! This cannot be happening! The God King is going to be furious!"
Inside the ring, Sheamus pushed himself to his knees, his chest heaving, a massive, exhausted smile spreading across his face. The referee handed him the Intercontinental Championship, and Sheamus hoisted it high into the air, soaking in the incredible adulation of the fans. He had struck a massive, undeniable blow against the reigning empire.
But the reaction on the outside of the ring was truly the story of the moment.
Paul Heyman had literally collapsed to his knees on the ringside mats. The Speaker of the Undisputed System held his head in his hands, his face a mask of absolute, unhinged horror. He rocked back and forth, screaming silently into the void.
This was not Dolph Ziggler losing an NXT developmental title. This was the Intercontinental Championship. This was a prestigious, main roster piece of gold that Sandro Zhang had explicitly ordered his faction to hoard. The loss of this title was a catastrophic failure, and Heyman knew that the wrath of the God King would be swift, merciless, and terrifying.
Big E and Ryback, recovering on the outside, looked at the ring in absolute shock, unable to process what had just happened.
The fans were riding an incredible, high adrenaline wave of excitement. The invincible aura of the Undisputed System had been pierced. Hope had returned to the WWE Universe.
And that hope carried directly into the very next match on the card, the final bout before the Royal Rumble main event, the World Tag Team Championship match.
Big E and Ryback, completely humiliated and enraged by Kofi's loss just moments prior, had to immediately step into the ring to defend their titles against the wildly popular, comedic underdog duo of Santino Marella and Zack Ryder, affectionately known as 'Team Co-Bro'.
"Big E and Ryback look absolutely homicidal, Michael," Striker noted, sensing the danger. "They just watched their faction lose gold. They are going to take all of their frustration out on Santino and Ryder!"
"It's going to be a massacre!" JBL roared, finally putting his headset back on, his voice trembling with anger. "Big E and Ryback are going to tear these two jokes limb from limb! They are going to make an example out of them!"
But to the absolute shock of everyone in the building, including the commentary team, it was not a squash match.
Santino and Ryder, riding the wave of momentum generated by Sheamus, put up the fight of their absolute lives. They knew Big E and Ryback were fighting angry, which meant they were prone to making mistakes.
Ryder utilized his speed and agility to keep the massive powerhouses off balance. When Ryback charged, Ryder pulled the top rope down, sending the Big Guy tumbling to the floor. Ryder then hit a beautiful, soaring somersault plancha over the top rope, wiping Ryback out!
Inside the ring, Big E turned around right into the path of Santino Marella. The Boston crowd began to chant "CO-BRO! CO-BRO!" at the top of their lungs.
Santino reached into his singlet, pulling out the infamous green snake sleeve. He slipped it onto his arm, his eyes widening with comedic intensity. He cocked the Cobra back, waiting for Big E to turn around.
Big E staggered to his feet. Santino struck, driving the Cobra directly into Big E's throat!
Santino scrambled for the cover!
One! Two!
Big E powered out with such force that he threw Santino halfway across the ring!
"Santino almost did it!" Lawler screamed, completely caught up in the magic of the moment. "He almost pinned the World Tag Team Champion with the Cobra!"
The hope spot was incredible, but it was ultimately fleeting. The sheer, terrifying power of the Undisputed System enforcers eventually overwhelmed the underdogs.
Ryback recovered on the outside, dragging Ryder into the barricade before sliding back into the ring. Big E recovered from the Cobra strike, his eyes burning with fury. He grabbed Santino, hoisting the Italian superstar onto his massive shoulder.
Ryback hit the ropes, accelerating with terrifying speed, and unleashed a catastrophic Meat Hook clothesline that nearly took Santino's head off. Big E immediately followed up with the Big Ending, driving Santino face first into the mat.
Ryback hooked both legs, staring fiercely at the hard camera.
One! Two! Three!
DING! DING! DING!
"Here are your winners... and STILL World Tag Team Champions... Big E and Ryback!"
"Thank God!" JBL yelled, letting out a massive sigh of relief, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Order has been restored! The enforcers retain the gold! The Undisputed System stops the bleeding!"
"You have to give credit to Santino and Ryder, they put up a hell of a fight," Cole said, sounding deeply disappointed. "But the power of Big E and Ryback was simply too much. They retain the World Tag Team Titles, ensuring that the God King's empire does not completely collapse here tonight."
Big E and Ryback snatched their belts from the referee, holding them high, looking incredibly angry despite the victory. They rolled out of the ring, joining a still hyperventilating Paul Heyman, and marched up the ramp, desperate to regroup before the wrath of Sandro Zhang fell upon them.
The ring was cleared. The ring crew quickly swept the canvas, making final preparations. The lights in the TD Garden dimmed slightly, taking on a dramatic, ominous glow.
The entire three hour broadcast, the weeks of intense rivalries, the promos, the brawls, and the betrayals had all been leading to this exact moment.
Justin Roberts, wearing a pristine tuxedo, stood dead center in the ring, holding his microphone tight. The Boston crowd began a low, rumbling cheer that steadily grew in volume.
"Ladies and gentlemen..." Roberts' voice boomed, echoing with historical weight. "It is now time... for the Royal Rumble Match!"
The eighteen thousand fans exploded into absolute pandemonium.
"The rules of the match are as follows," Roberts explained, his voice projecting over the roar. "Two superstars will begin the match. Every ninety seconds, a new superstar will enter the ring. Eliminations occur when a superstar is thrown over the top rope, and both of their feet touch the arena floor. The match will continue until twenty nine men have been eliminated. The sole survivor, the winner of the Royal Rumble, will earn a guaranteed World Championship match in the main event of WrestleMania!"
Roberts lowered the microphone, stepping back. The arena lights went completely dark.
High above the entrance stage, the massive digital Titantron shifted. A giant clock appeared, accompanied by a loud, echoing buzzer sound.
The crowd began to chant along with the ticking numbers in absolute unison.
"TEN! NINE! EIGHT! SEVEN! SIX! FIVE! FOUR! THREE! TWO! ONE!"
BZZZZZT!
The buzzer sounded. The arena held its breath.
Suddenly, an incredibly familiar, funky bassline hit the speakers, followed immediately by a booming, legendary voice shouting five words that sent the TD Garden into an absolute state of nuclear shock.
"CAN YOU DIG IT, SUCKA?!"
The pyrotechnics exploded in a massive shower of gold and red sparks. The crowd reaction was not just a pop, it was an earthquake.
"OH MY GOD!" Michael Cole screamed at the very top of his lungs, jumping entirely out of his chair. "IT'S BOOKER T! THE FIVE TIME CHAMPION IS BACK! BOOKER T IS ENTRANT NUMBER ONE!"
"I don't believe my eyes!" Lawler cheered, a massive smile on his face. "This place is coming unglued! What a surprise to kick off the Royal Rumble!"
Out from the smoke stepped the legendary Booker T. He looked absolutely phenomenal, wearing his classic red and black flame trunks.
He stopped at the top of the ramp, hitting his signature pose, holding his hands up and staring at his open palms before extending them to the crowd. He marched down the ramp, completely feeding off the insane energy of the Boston faithful.
Justin Roberts raised his microphone.
"Introducing entrant number one!" Roberts bellowed over the music. "From Houston, Texas... weighing in at 256 pounds... BOOKER T!"
Booker slid into the ring, immediately hitting the ropes and executing a flawless, lightning fast Spinaroonie right in the center of the canvas! The crowd roared in appreciation as he popped back up to his feet, ready for war.
The buzzer sounded again. The clock reappeared on the Titantron.
"TEN! NINE! EIGHT! SEVEN! SIX! FIVE! FOUR! THREE! TWO! ONE!"
BZZZZZT!
A regal, aristocratic trumpet fanfare echoed through the arena, instantly replaced by a heavy, ominous rock beat.
The cheers immediately morphed into a loud, sustained chorus of boos.
Out walked the legendary, ruthless English brawler, William Regal. Dressed in his dark burgundy trunks and boots, his face locked in a permanent, aristocratic sneer, Regal looked entirely unbothered by the hostile reaction. He slowly wiped his boots on the entrance stage before beginning his methodical walk down the ramp.
"And entrant number two!" Roberts announced. "From Blackpool, England... weighing in at 243 pounds... WILLIAM REGAL!"
"What an incredible way to start this match!" Striker analyzed. "We have the explosive, charismatic offense of Booker T against the sadistic, technical joint manipulation of William Regal! Two absolute veterans of the ring!"
Regal climbed the steel steps, entering the ring. He didn't attack immediately. He stood in his corner, looking across the ring at Booker T. The history between the two men was deep, filled with countless battles spanning across multiple continents and promotions.
In a rare display of true sportsmanship amidst the chaos of the WWE, Regal slowly walked to the center of the ring. He extended his hand.
Booker T looked at it for a moment, nodded respectfully, and shook Regal's hand.
The crowd applauded the gesture of mutual respect between the two legends.
Justin Roberts quickly exited the ring, slipping under the bottom rope. The referees positioned themselves at all four corners on the outside, their eyes glued to the ring apron.
The referee in the ring raised his hand and signaled for the bell.
DING! DING! DING!
The 2011 Royal Rumble match had officially begun, and the Road to WrestleMania, fraught with the tyrannical shadow of the God King, the vengeance of the Painmaker, and the electrifying promise of The Great One, was completely wide open.
In the center of the ring, Booker T and William Regal did not immediately lock up. They slowly circled one another, their eyes locked in a stare of deep, mutual respect. They were two masters of the squared circle, veterans who had traveled the globe and seen every dirty trick the industry had to offer.
"The history between these two men is incredibly rich," Striker noted on commentary, his voice filled with academic appreciation. "They have fought in Europe, they have fought in WCW, and they have fought here in the WWE. They know each other's arsenals inside and out. It's a brilliant, technical way to begin this chaotic match."
"They are fighting a lost cause!" JBL immediately barked, completely rejecting the nostalgic moment. "Look at them! They're sizing each other up like this match actually means something! Whoever survives this hour of torture just wins a one way ticket to the morgue! The God King is resting in a luxury suite right now, wearing the Triple Crown, laughing at these two peasants!"
"This match means everything, John!" Cole fired back passionately. "It is the guaranteed main event of WrestleMania! It is the only way to bypass the Undisputed System's political blockade and get a guaranteed, contractually obligated shot at Sandro Zhang!"
Regal made the first move. He lunged forward, securing a tight collar and elbow tie up, but seamlessly transitioned into a brutal, grinding side headlock. He drove his knuckles into the temple of the five time champion, trying to wear Booker down early.
Booker utilized his superior agility, pushing Regal into the ropes and whipping him across the ring. As Regal rebounded, Booker dropped down, leaped over Regal on the return, and caught the Englishman flush on the jaw with a devastating spinning heel kick!
The crowd popped loudly as Regal hit the mat. Booker popped up, shaking his dreadlocks, completely feeding off the energy. He dragged Regal up by the arm, delivering a blistering knife edge chop that echoed through the arena.
Regal staggered, but the veteran brawler was far from finished. He absorbed a second chop, gritted his teeth, and fired back with a sickening, stiff European uppercut that snapped Booker's head back. Regal followed it up with a beautiful, high angle exploder suplex, driving Booker's shoulders into the canvas.
"Look at the impact!" Lawler cheered. "Regal isn't wasting any time! He knows he has to eliminate Booker before the ring fills up!"
Regal grabbed Booker by the trunks, hauling him up and attempting to muscle him over the top rope. Booker frantically grabbed the top cable, wrapping his arms around it to lower his center of gravity, fighting tooth and nail to keep his feet inside the ring.
As the two veterans struggled against the ropes, the massive digital clock appeared on the Titantron.
"TEN! NINE! EIGHT! SEVEN! SIX! FIVE! FOUR! THREE! TWO! ONE!"
BZZZZZT!
The upbeat, energetic horns of "Oooooh Chavo!" blasted through the sound system. The crowd erupted into a massive chant of "EDDIE! EDDIE! EDDIE!" as the legendary Chavo Guerrero sprinted out from behind the curtain.
"Entrant number three is Chavo Guerrero!" Cole announced. "A man with incredible pedigree and the heart of a lion!"
Chavo slid under the bottom rope like a heat seeking missile. Regal turned around just in time to eat a massive flying forearm smash from Guerrero. Booker T stumbled forward, and Chavo caught him with a beautiful spinning headscissors takedown.
Chavo was a house of fire. He grabbed Regal, whipping him into the corner, and connected with a running European uppercut. He quickly turned to Booker T, kicking him in the gut, and immediately executed the first of his brother's signature Three Amigos rolling vertical suplexes!
The crowd counted along. "ONE!" He rolled his hips, hoisting Booker up again. "TWO!"
He rolled one final time, bringing the five time champion down with authority. "THREE!"
"Vintage Chavo!" Striker praised. "He brings an incredible pace to this match. The objective right now isn't necessarily elimination, it's self preservation and keeping your opponents off balance!"
"He's burning too much energy!" JBL scoffed. "You don't sprint a marathon! Chavo is going to be exhausted in five minutes!"
Chavo tried to capitalize, grabbing Regal and attempting to toss him over the top rope, but Regal hit a sharp back elbow, dropping Chavo to the mat. The three men engaged in a grueling, three way brawl in the center of the ring, trading heavy right hands as the two minute interval rapidly melted away.
"TEN! NINE! EIGHT! SEVEN! SIX! FIVE! FOUR! THREE! TWO! ONE!"
BZZZZZT!
A high energy, fast paced Japanese rock track hit the speakers. Out sprinted the charismatic, incredibly athletic Yoshi Tatsu, shadowboxing on the entrance stage before charging down the ramp.
"Entrant number four is Yoshi Tatsu!" Lawler cheered. "This kid has explosive striking ability! He could be a dark horse in this match!"
Yoshi vaulted over the top rope, immediately entering the fray. Chavo charged him, but Yoshi ducked, unleashing a blistering combination of Muay Thai kicks to Chavo's chest, finishing with a devastating spinning heel kick that dropped Guerrero to the canvas.
Regal approached from behind, but Yoshi had eyes in the back of his head. He caught Regal with a stiff back kick to the midsection, hitting the ropes and connecting with a running dropkick to the side of the Englishman's head.
"Yoshi Tatsu is cleaning house!" Cole yelled.
Yoshi grabbed Regal, violently Irish whipping him toward the ropes. He charged in, attempting a running clothesline to eliminate him, but Regal had the veteran instinct to pull down the top rope.
Yoshi went flying over the top, but miraculously managed to grab the top cable with both hands! He dangled precariously over the arena floor, his boots just inches from the ground.
"He's almost gone!" Striker shouted. "Both feet must touch the floor! Yoshi is hanging on for dear life!"
Booker T capitalized on the distraction, charging Regal and hitting a massive spinebuster in the center of the ring. Yoshi carefully pulled himself back onto the ring apron, sliding safely under the bottom rope, breathing a massive sigh of relief.
The ring was getting crowded. Four men were now brawling in separate corners, the physical toll of the match already beginning to show.
"TEN! NINE! EIGHT! SEVEN! SIX! FIVE! FOUR! THREE! TWO! ONE!"
BZZZZZT!
"I COME FROM MONEY!"
The arrogant, driving bassline of Ted DiBiase Jr.'s theme song hit the arena. The 'Fortunate Son' walked out, looking incredibly smug, checking an imaginary watch on his wrist before jogging down the ramp.
"Entrant number five is Ted DiBiase!" Cole announced. "A young man with incredible pedigree and unlimited financial backing!"
"Finally, some actual talent in this match!" JBL praised, completely changing his tune. "This kid understands legacy! He understands money! He would make a fantastic addition to the Undisputed System! Watch him clear out this deadwood!"
DiBiase entered the ring and immediately targeted Yoshi Tatsu, hitting a massive, crushing powerslam that folded the Japanese superstar in half. Chavo attempted to ambush DiBiase, but Ted ducked, delivering a brutal clothesline that turned Guerrero inside out.
DiBiase turned his attention to Booker T. The two traded heavy right hands in the center of the ring. DiBiase caught a kick from Booker, spun him around, and locked in his signature Dream Street submission hold!
"Dream Street is locked in!" Striker noted. "DiBiase is trying to choke out the five time champion!"
Before DiBiase could fully apply the pressure, William Regal delivered a sickening knee to DiBiase's back, breaking the hold and saving Booker from unconsciousness. The chaotic alliances of the Royal Rumble were in full effect. Every man was an island.
"TEN! NINE! EIGHT! SEVEN! SIX! FIVE! FOUR! THREE! TWO! ONE!"
BZZZZZT!
"BROOKLYN! BROOKLYN!"
The hip hop beat dropped, and JTG stepped through the curtain. He wore his signature baggy jeans and sunglasses, hyping up the crowd as he strutted down the ramp.
"Entrant number six is JTG!" Lawler laughed. "He brings a totally unorthodox, street fight style to the ring! You never know what he's going to do!"
JTG slid into the ring, immediately dodging a clothesline from Regal. JTG hit the ropes, rebounding with his signature Mug Shot diving facebuster, driving Regal's nose into the canvas!
The ring now held six men, and the real estate was rapidly shrinking. It was time for the herd to thin.
Yoshi Tatsu and Ted DiBiase were battling near the ropes. Yoshi hit a series of stiff chops, backing DiBiase against the cables. But Yoshi made a fatal mistake. He turned his back on William Regal.
Regal stalked up behind the Japanese superstar. He grabbed Yoshi by the hair, dragging him toward the ropes, and delivered his devastating Knee Trembler directly to the side of Yoshi's skull!
The impact completely scrambled Yoshi's senses. His body went limp, and his momentum carried him completely over the top rope, tumbling head over heels until he crashed heavily onto the ringside floor.
"Yoshi Tatsu has been eliminated!" Justin Roberts announced over the sound system.
"And there goes our first elimination!" Cole shouted. "William Regal strikes with absolute, brutal precision!"
Regal smirked, turning around to find his next victim, but the clock was already ticking down again.
"TEN! NINE! EIGHT! SEVEN! SIX! FIVE! FOUR! THREE! TWO! ONE!"
BZZZZZT!
An epic, sweeping orchestral score filled the TD Garden. The lights flashed, and out walked "The Masterpiece" Chris Masters. He stopped on the stage, slowly hitting his signature bodybuilding poses, flexing his massive, chiseled physique for the crowd.
"Entrant number seven is Chris Masters!" Cole said. "And look at the sheer size of this man! If he locks in the Masterlock, it is an automatic elimination!"
"He is a physical specimen!" JBL agreed. "But muscles don't win the Royal Rumble, strategy does!"
Masters marched into the ring, his raw power immediately shifting the dynamic. JTG tried to attack him, but Masters effortlessly caught him by the throat, hoisting the Brooklyn brawler into the air for a massive military press slam, dropping him violently to the canvas.
Masters then set his sights on Chavo Guerrero. He grabbed Chavo from behind, locking his thick, tree trunk arms around Guerrero's neck, applying the dreaded Masterlock!
Chavo thrashed wildly, his face turning purple as Masters swung him around like a ragdoll.
While Masters was distracted, William Regal and Booker T were engaged in a bitter struggle near the ropes. Regal was throwing stiff forearms, trying to back Booker over the edge. Regal charged, looking to hit a massive running knee to knock Booker off the apron.
But Booker T dropped his weight! He pulled the top rope down just as Regal lunged forward. The Englishman's momentum carried him completely over the top cable, sending him tumbling awkwardly to the floor below!
"William Regal has been eliminated!" The Boston crowd erupted into a massive pop as Booker T survived the exchange, pointing down at Regal with a triumphant smirk.
"Booker T eliminates Regal!" Lawler cheered. "Veteran instinct saves the five-time champion!"
"TEN! NINE! EIGHT! SEVEN! SIX! FIVE! FOUR! THREE! TWO! ONE!"
BZZZZZT!
"SOMEBODY'S GONNA GET THEIR ASS KICKED!"
The heavy, intimidating hip hop theme of Mark Henry hit the speakers. The pop was absolutely massive. The World's Strongest Man walked out, his face a mask of pure, unadulterated fury.
He didn't strut, he marched toward the ring with the intent to destroy everything in his path. "Oh boy," Cole warned, his voice dropping an octave. "Business is about to pick up. Entrant number eight is Mark Henry! The World's Strongest Man is here to clean house!"
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Name: Alessandro Zhang
Age: 21 (2011)
Birthplace: Orlando, Florida, USA
Brand: WWE - RAW
Wrestling Style: Mixed Of All Styles
Faction: The Undisputed System
Championships History: 1x FCW Tag Team Champions, 1x FCW Florida Heavyweight Champion, 1x TNA World Heavyweight Champion, 1x TNA X Division Champion, 1x WWE United States Champion, 1x WWE Champion, & 1x World Heavyweight Champion
Other Achievements: 1x Andre the Giant Memorial Battle Royale Winner, 1x Mr. Money In The Bank, Youngest WWE Champion, PWI Top 500 (No.1) - 2010, & 1x KOTR (2010)
Wrestlemania Record: 1 - 0