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Moments later, Matt Morgan's music hit, and the "Blueprint" himself stormed out, his own tag title in hand. Together, the TNA World Tag Team Champions walked shoulder to shoulder down the ramp, eyes locked on the ring, on Sabin and Shelley. The two men who decided to cut the line by using third party help.
The ring announcer's voice boomed.
"The following contest is scheduled for one fall… and it is for the TNA World Tag Team Championships! Introducing the champions, at a combined weight of 595 pounds… Hernandez and Matt Morgan!"
The crowd erupted with cheers, a welcome blast of babyface energy against the poison that had just stained the ring.
Inside, Sabin and Shelley stretched their necks, bounced in place. They were ready. Hungry. Driven. Not just for gold, but for legacy.
Meanwhile from the outside, Sandro who stood at their corner barked orders from ringside, arms crossed as he observed his chessboard.
The bell hadn't rung yet, but it already felt like a war was about to explode.
As Hernandez and Morgan reached the ring apron, they stared down their challengers. Sabin mouthed something to Morgan, something mocking. Shelley pointed to the gold on Morgan's shoulder and mimed a belt around his own waist.
Sandro, watching it all, gave a small nod. His plans were unfolding. And whether the fans liked it or not, the future was already being written in gold.
Hernandez and Morgan entered the ring, adrenaline pulsing, teeth clenched, shoulders squared. They didn't even need to speak, just one look exchanged between them said it all, no more games. No more politics. This was about respect. About holding onto what they'd earned.
But before fists could fly, the referee stepped between both teams, arms spread wide like a schoolteacher separating two brawling students. "Back to your corners!" he barked, his voice cracking slightly over the hard camera that captured them.
Sabin and Shelley smirked. Sabin leaned lazily on the top rope while Shelley raised his eyebrows at Morgan, mock innocence written all over his face.
Morgan and Hernandez didn't budge.
"You serious right now?" Morgan snarled, nodding toward the Motor City Machine Guns.
"They're mocking us, and you're worried about us starting something?" Hernandez added, his voice loud enough to draw cheers of support from the crowd.
But the referee didn't even look their way. He simply pointed to their corner and gestured sternly. It was clear, the fix was in. The referee was in Sandro's pocket.
Reluctantly, the champions backed up, clearly fuming. The crowd, sensing the tension, began to boo, not at them, but at the increasingly obvious manipulation unfolding.
Then came the next insult.
"Hand me the titles," the referee said, turning to Morgan.
Morgan and Hernandez exchanged a look again before finally handing over their TNA World tag team belts. The referee walked to the center of the ring, holding the titles high above his head, the shining gold catching the overhead lights, drawing camera flashes from the crowd.
But just as he turned to give them to the ringside crew, Sandro stepped forward from the outside. Cool. Calm. Dangerous. He extended his arms.
Without hesitation, the referee handed both belts to Sandro.
Sandro slung one title over each shoulder and smiled smugly at the champions, who were now seething in their corner.
It was a message. A silent one, but a powerful one, saying that they are already lost.
"What the hell is this?!" Morgan shouted, stepping toward the ropes. "You give our belts to him?!"
"Get him outta here!" Hernandez barked, pointing furiously at Sandro.
The referee simply turned his back on them.
Morgan gripped the top rope tightly. His muscles tensed, veins popping across his forearms. "Do your damn job right for once!"
The referee, unfazed, made one final check with both teams.
Sabin and Shelley nodded, bouncing on their heels with confident smirks.
Hernandez and Morgan gave curt nods, still staring daggers through the referee and Sandro.
The bell rang.
DING DING DING.
And just like that, it began.
Morgan started off against Sabin.
The two locked up in the center of the ring, the crowd roaring with anticipation. Morgan, with his superior strength, immediately shoved Sabin back into the turnbuckle with raw force. The ref came in and began counting fast.
"One, two, three, back it up, Morgan!"
Morgan threw up his hands and backed off, smirking. "Now you're worried about rules, huh?"
Sabin grinned and used the moment to shoot forward, ducking under Morgan's arm and delivering a quick kick to the hamstring. Morgan grimaced, and Sabin capitalized with a running dropkick to the knee.
He tagged in Shelley.
Shelley jumped onto the top rope and hit a diving axe handle right onto the same leg. The Machine Guns were working as a unit, fluid, fast, and surgical.
But Morgan wasn't down yet.
He caught Shelley on the next charge and planted him with a thunderous spinebuster that shook the ring.
Tag to Hernandez.
The powerhouse leapt over the top rope with terrifying agility and immediately began throwing Shelley around the ring with overhead belly to belly suplexes. The crowd rallied behind him.
Sabin tried to interfere, but Hernandez anticipated it and launched him with a backdrop that sent Sabin nearly across the ring.
Hernandez called for a tag, and Morgan came back in.
Double team. Morgan lifted Shelley while Hernandez delivered a running lariat, turning Shelley inside out as he then crumpled to the mat.
Cover.
1… 2... The referee stopped. He pointed at Sabin.
"Illegal man in the ring earlier," he said, waving it off. "No count."
Morgan's jaw dropped. "Are you KIDDING me?!"
The crowd booed louder now.
Morgan dragged Shelley up and shoved him into the corner. He delivered thunderous shoulder blocks to the midsection, tagging in Hernandez again.
They kept up the pressure. Hernandez whipped Shelley into the ropes and caught him with a pop up sitout powerbomb.
Cover.
1… 2…
Sandro slammed his hand on the mat at ringside, just enough to draw attention. The referee turned his head.
Sabin ran in and broke the count.
Hernandez was livid.
"He wasn't even the legal man!"
The ref warned him instead of Sabin.
This was insanity.
The champions tried to stay focused. Tag to Morgan.
Morgan hoisted Shelley up for the Carbon Footprint, but Shelley slid out and tagged in Sabin. Sabin launched into the ring with a flying forearm that staggered Morgan.
Then another.
Then he ducked a clothesline and delivered an enzuigiri.
Morgan wobbled.
Shelley returned and they hit a beautiful double superkick.
Morgan dropped to one knee.
Sabin went for a running knee, but Morgan managed to get up, caught him, and slammed him with a tilt a whirl slam.
Tag to Hernandez.
Hernandez charged and flattened both Motor City Machine Guns with a double clothesline.
He set Shelley on the top rope, looking for a superplex.
But the referee suddenly inserted himself between them.
"Get him down! That's not legal!" he shouted, pushing Hernandez.
Shelley used the distraction to rake Hernandez's eyes.
He dropped back to the mat and hit a flatliner into the middle turnbuckle.
Sabin came flying in and launched a dropkick to the back of Hernandez's head.
The Motor City Machine Guns were turning the tide, but not alone, as they had help.
From the man in stripes.
Tag in to Shelley.
He stomped on Hernandez's knee repeatedly before tagging Sabin again. They hit stereo kicks to his shoulders and then a combination kick into a bulldog.
Cover.
1… 2…
Hernandez kicked out with power, throwing Sabin halfway off his body.
Sandro didn't flinch. He just adjusted the titles on his shoulders.
Morgan roared from the corner, slapping the turnbuckle pad. "Let's go, H! Come on!"
Hernandez fought back with body shots. He pushed Sabin into the ropes and tried a shoulder block, but Sabin ducked and hit a low dropkick to the leg.
Shelley tagged back in.
Now came their signature tandem move, Skull & Bones. Sabin launched off from the top turnbuckle for a diving crossbody, while Shelley put Hernandez in a falling neckbreaker maneuver.
Shelley covered.
1…
2…
3... NO!
Hernandez powered out.
The crowd exploded.
Morgan was practically hanging over the ropes, begging for the tag.
Shelley grabbed Hernandez's arm and tried to drag him back to the corner, but Hernandez twisted out and sent him flying with a huge back body drop.
He dove—
TAG!
Morgan burst in like a bull unleashed.
He flattened Shelley.
Then Sabin.
Then both again with a double shoulder block..
He ran the ropes and hit a big boot to Shelley!
Massive fisherman suplex to Sabin!
The crowd was electric.
He lifted Shelley for the Hellevator and it connected!
Cover!
1… 2…
…Sandro slammed his hand on the apron again.
The referee turned, AGAIN.
Sabin's elbow dropped Morgan to break the pin.
Morgan sat up, breathing heavy, locking eyes with the ref. "Do your damn job, man."
The referee didn't even respond.
Morgan pulled Shelley up, tagged in Hernandez, and the two went for their combo finisher, Morgan lifting Shelley on his shoulders while Hernandez climbed the second rope.
Sabin, out of nowhere, shoved Hernandez off the rope, sending him crashing into the steel barricade!
Morgan tried to finish it alone, but Shelley raked his eyes again and dropped behind.
Tag to Sabin.
They hit a modified ASCS Rush, running knee from Shelley, basement dropkick from Sabin.
Morgan collapsed and rolled out of the ring, trying to catch his breath. The match had devolved into chaos, with the crowd roaring in disbelief at the injustice they were witnessing.
Inside the ring, Sabin and Shelley regrouped, pacing like hungry wolves. Hernandez, recovering from the shove that had launched him into the steel barricade, dragged himself up using the apron. His chest heaved, eyes blazing with fury as he stared at the referee.
"You saw that!" Hernandez shouted, pointing at Sabin, then at the ref. "That's interference! That's an illegal action!"
But the referee didn't even flinch. He ignored Hernandez entirely, eyes focused solely on Sabin and Shelley as if their actions were completely within the rules. The crowd began to chant, loud and angry.
"REF YOU SUCK! REF YOU SUCK!"
The chants only grew louder when Sandro, standing at ringside with both tag titles back on his shoulders, smirked. He tapped his wrist, as if saying, "It's only a matter of time."
Morgan slowly pulled himself back into the ring. His face was flushed, his jaw tight. He shook off the cobwebs, gritting his teeth, and locked eyes with Sabin.
The fans were rallying behind him, behind the champions.
"Let's go, Blueprint!"
Shelley charged, but Morgan countered with a thunderous clothesline that turned Shelley inside out. Sabin tried a springboard crossbody, but Morgan caught him mid air and turned it into a fallaway slam that nearly sent Sabin into the opposite turnbuckle.
Tag to Hernandez!
Hernandez exploded back into the ring, spearing Shelley and tossing him into the corner. He ran across the ring and delivered an avalanche splash to Sabin, then turned back and did the same to Shelley. The crowd was losing it.
"THIS IS AWESOME!" clap clap clap clap clap "THIS IS AWESOME!"
Morgan and Hernandez were on fire, feeding off the energy of the crowd, throwing the Motor City Machine Guns around like rag dolls. It was textbook tag team wrestling from the champs.
But the rules didn't matter tonight.
Because Sandro was still ringside.
And he was getting impatient.
Inside the ring, Morgan hit a Carbon Footprint on Shelley. He staggered back, into a tag from Hernandez, who caught Shelley and launched him into a sit out powerbomb. Sabin came flying in with a missile dropkick, knocking Hernandez backward. Morgan intercepted him and hit a massive sidewalk slam.
The ring was chaos.
The referee? Just watching. Not doing a damn thing.
Morgan turned toward the ref, yelling, "Control the match! Get them out of the ring!"
And that's when Sandro decided he had enough.
With a sudden motion, he dropped the titles on the floor at ringside and pulled off his jacket, tossing it aside.
He slid into the ring like a predator.
And before Morgan could react—
BOOM!
BICYCLE KICK!
Right to Morgan's face. The Blueprint dropped like a sack of bricks. "WHAT THE HELL?!" Hernandez screamed from the outside. "DQ! THAT'S A DQ!" He pounded his foot on the apron, demanding the referee call for the bell and stop the match.
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Name: Alessandro Zhang
Age: 20 (2010)
Birthplace: Orlando, Florida, USA
Brand: FCW
Wrestling Style: Mixed Of All Styles
Faction: The Undisputed System
Championship History: 1x FCW Tag Team Champions, 1x FCW Florida Heavyweight Champion, 1x TNA World Heavyweight Champion, & 1x TNA X Division Champion