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"John Cena. Triple H. Randy Orton. Big Show. Jack Swagger." His voice rumbled like thunder. "All of you think you've got what it takes to step inside that Chamber and come out with this." He slapped the gold plate of the championship. "But you're wrong. Every one of you is gonna feel the pain I bring, the pain I've been bringing my whole career. I'm walking in champion, and I'm walking out champion. Believe that."
The crowd responded with a mix of boos and cheers, half of them unable to stand the arrogance, the other half respecting the sheer dominance Henry radiated. He left the ring as the announcers hyped up the rest of the show.
Match after match filled the night. Promos, confrontations, chaos, typical Monday Night RAW mayhem. But underneath it all, everyone knew what the real headline was.
The main event. Sandro vs Shawn Michaels.
It was the talk in the arena, the murmurs during every commercial break, the energy building higher as the night pressed on. Fans who hadn't known Sandro a month ago had since gone back and watched his matches, studied his style. The consensus was clear, this wasn't some rookie. He was dangerous. He was skilled. He was ready.
And now, he was about to face Mr. WrestleMania himself.
The lights dimmed. A familiar guitar riff echoed through the arena, and the crowd exploded.
"I think I'm cute! I know I'm sexy!"
Shawn Michaels appeared at the top of the ramp, full of energy, soaking in the adoration of the Baltimore fans. He strutted down the ramp with his trademark confidence, slapping hands, his smile wide. Inside the ring, he hit his signature pose, pyro blasting behind him, and the cheers grew deafening.
Justin Roberts' voice boomed, "Introducing first, from San Antonio, Texas, weighing in at 225 pounds, The Heartbreak Kid… SHAWN MICHAELS!"
Shawn nodded, his eyes sharp now, the showman's smile fading into the competitor's focus.
Then the guitar's riff hit and—
"Look in my eyes… what do you see?"
The opening riff of Cult of Personality thundered through the arena. Instantly, the cheers flipped into a wave of boos, the energy shifting to venomous hostility.
Sandro walked out onto the stage, sneer on his lips, arms spread wide as pyro shot into the sky behind him. He basked in the heat, laughing at the hatred pouring down on him.
Roberts' voice rose above the crowd. "And his opponent, from Orlando, Florida, weighing in at 220 pounds… SANDRO ZHANG!"
He strutted down the ramp, ignoring the jeers, until he spotted a front row fan holding a sign that read, "SANDRO SUCKS! SHAWN'S THE BEST!"
Sandro stopped dead, locked eyes with the fan, and without hesitation ripped the sign straight from his hands. The crowd gasped, then erupted into boos as Sandro tore the sign in half, laughing mockingly in the fan's face before tossing the pieces aside.
"BOOOOOO!" The arena shook.
Sandro threw his head back, reveling in it, before sliding into the ring. He posed in the corner, arms outstretched, daring the fans to get louder. The noise swelled like a tidal wave.
The referee stepped forward, checking both men, then backed away.
The bell rang.
Ding ding ding.
The main event was officially underway.
The arena was alive with electricity. Shawn Michaels and Sandro Zhang circled one another, the fans divided into dueling chants that rattled the rafters.
"Let's go Shawn!"
"Sandro sucks!"
Shawn smirked, nodding to the crowd as if to draw strength from their adoration. Sandro, meanwhile, sneered at the chants, shaking his head and shouting back, "I'm better than him, and you all know it!"
Jerry "The King" Lawler jumped in immediately on commentary. "Listen to this crowd, Cole! They're firmly behind HBK! Sandro's walking into hostile territory tonight!"
Michael Cole, smug and unwavering, cut him off.
"Oh, please, King. These fans are just jealous of greatness when they see it. Sandro Zhang is the future of this business, and tonight, he's going to prove it by outclassing Shawn Michaels."
Back in the ring, both men finally locked up in a collar and elbow tie up. Shawn twisted Sandro's arm into a wristlock, wrenching down with a flash of that veteran precision. Sandro grimaced, trying to counter, but HBK transitioned seamlessly into a headlock takeover, keeping the younger wrestler grounded.
The fans cheered loudly at Michaels' control, but Sandro rolled through, wrapping his legs around Shawn's head and yanking him into a headscissors.
Shawn kipped up instantly, breaking free, and the two men stood at a standoff. The crowd roared in appreciation as both men stared each other down.
"See that, King?" Cole said with a smirk. "Sandro just went hold for hold with one of the greatest technicians of all time. That's not luck, that's skill."
"Yeah, but Shawn matched him every step of the way, Cole," Lawler countered. "Don't forget who you're talking about. This is Mr. WrestleMania, the Showstopper, the Icon!"
The chants picked up again, the tension palpable. The two locked up once more, and this time Sandro used his strength advantage, muscling Shawn back into the corner. The ref called for a clean break, but Sandro shoved Michaels hard in the chest before backing away, grinning with arrogance. The boos rained down, and Sandro basked in it.
Shawn nodded slowly, his jaw tightening. Then, SMACK! He lit Sandro's chest with a vicious knife edge chop that echoed through the arena.
"Woooooo!" the crowd cried in unison.
Sandro's cocky smirk dropped instantly as he clutched his chest. Shawn hit another chop. SMACK! Then another. SMACK! Sandro staggered out of the corner, his chest already turning red. Shawn whipped him to the ropes, and on the rebound, HBK nailed a textbook dropkick that sent Sandro scrambling under the bottom rope to the floor.
The crowd erupted with cheers as Shawn strutted inside the ring, tuning up the crowd with his classic showman flair.
Lawler nearly jumped out of his chair. "Ha! Look at Sandro run! He couldn't handle Shawn's chops!"
Cole snapped back. "Run? That's called strategy, King! Sandro's smart enough to know you don't go toe to toe with a fresh Shawn Michaels. He's buying himself some time. That's experience beyond his years!"
Sandro paced at ringside, holding his chest, glaring back at Shawn who leaned over the ropes daring him to come back in. The boos didn't bother him, in fact, he seemed to drink them in like fuel.
Finally, he slid back into the ring, taking a deep breath before circling again. They went for another lockup, but this time Sandro drove a knee into Shawn's gut, doubling him over. He followed it up with stiff forearm shots to the side of Shawn's head, each one landing with sickening force.
The crowd booed loudly, but Sandro pressed the advantage, whipping Shawn into the corner and charging with a running knee strike that crushed Shawn's ribs. Shawn staggered forward, only to eat a perfectly timed European uppercut that dropped him to the mat.
"Beautiful strike made by Sandro!" Cole praised. "That's what I mean, King. He's got Shawn right where he wants him now!"
Lawler groaned. "I hate to admit it, but that was impressive. Still, I wouldn't start counting Shawn Michaels out just yet."
Sandro dragged Shawn up by the hair, shouting in his face, "You're not the Showstopper anymore, old man!" before cracking him with a vicious elbow across the jaw. He followed up with a snap suplex, floating into the cover.
1… 2—
Shawn kicked out, sending a jolt of energy through the crowd.
Sandro immediately transitioned into a mounted position, raining down fists and hammering Shawn's skull with relentless aggression. The referee warned him, but Sandro barked back, "Shut up! I know the rules!" before slamming another forearm into Shawn's face.
Cole was grinning ear to ear. "That's the kind of intensity that makes Sandro different, King. He's not here to pander to these hypocritical fans. He's here to win."
The beating continued until Shawn, with the desperation of a cornered legend, rolled to the ropes. The referee forced a break, and Shawn staggered up holding his face, but Sandro cut him off with a running knee lift to the gut, then whipped him into the ropes again, only this time, Shawn countered with a flying forearm smash!
The crowd went wild as both men lay on the mat. Shawn stirred first, rolling to his knees. He kipped up in vintage HBK fashion, and the arena exploded with cheers.
"Vintage Shawn Michaels!" Lawler shouted, his voice nearly cracking with excitement.
Sandro got up groggily, and Shawn caught him with an inverted atomic drop, followed by another blistering chop that left Sandro's chest nearly glowing red. Shawn whipped him to the ropes, caught him on the rebound with a back body drop, and then clotheslined him over the top rope to the outside!
The fans were on their feet now, the arena rocking as Shawn pointed to the outside. He hit the ropes for momentum and launched himself over the top with a diving crossbody that wiped Sandro out on the floor!
"Listen to this place!" Lawler shouted. "Shawn Michaels is turning back the clock, Cole!"
Cole snapped angrily. "That was reckless! He's going to regret that when Sandro makes him pay!"
The referee began his count as both men lay sprawled at ringside. Shawn stirred, dragging himself up using the barricade, slapping the hands of fans who reached for him. Sandro, meanwhile, rolled onto his knees, clutching his ribs, his face twisted in fury.
Shawn dragged him up and whipped him into the steel steps with a sickening CLANG. The fans roared in approval as Sandro crashed shoulder first into the steps, his body flipping over them and landing hard on the floor.
"Ohhh! Did you hear that?" Lawler said. "That had to dislocate a shoulder!"
Cole's tone sharpened. "This is disgusting. Shawn Michaels should be disqualified for trying to end a young man's career like this!"
The referee's count hit seven. Shawn tossed Sandro back into the ring and climbed to the apron. He pointed to the top rope, and the fans erupted in anticipation. He climbed up, steadying himself, and launched with a flying elbow drop straight into Sandro's heart!
The cover—
1… 2…
No! Sandro kicked out at two and three quarters! The arena gasped, hands flying to heads, the tension mounting.
Shawn sat up, his face a mask of determination. He got to his feet, backing into the corner, stomping the mat rhythmically. The crowd knew what was coming and began clapping in unison.
"Shawn's tuning up the band!" Lawler yelled.
Sandro staggered up to his feet, dazed and vulnerable. Shawn swung the leg for Sweet Chin Music—
But Sandro ducked at the last second! He spun Shawn around and drilled him with a snap DDT that spiked the Heartbreak Kid's head into the mat!
Both men lay motionless, the crowd at a fever pitch.
Cole exploded. "What did I tell you, King?! Sandro Zhang has an answer for everything!"
"Answer nothing, he's just lucky Shawn didn't take his head off!" Lawler fired back.
The referee began his ten count as both men writhed in pain. Slowly, they crawled toward opposite ropes, using them to pull themselves up. The crowd was roaring with every movement, the atmosphere now feeling less like a RAW main event and more like a WrestleMania classic.
Sandro was the first to his feet. He charged Shawn, but Michaels caught him with a sudden Lou Thesz press, raining down punches of his own! The crowd erupted with cheers as Shawn turned the tide again.
But Sandro shoved him off, scrambling to his feet and hitting a sudden superkick of his own, catching Shawn right on the jaw!
The crowd collectively gasped as HBK crumpled to the mat, limp. Sandro dropped into the cover, hooking both legs.
1… 2…
NO! Michaels kicked out at the absolute last second! The arena shook from the eruption of cheers, fans on their feet in disbelief.
Cole shouted over the noise. "That was three! That was three, King!"
"No way!" Lawler snapped back. "That was Shawn Michaels digging deep, Cole! That's why he's the Showstopper!"
Sandro sat up, his face twisted in rage, his hands tearing at his hair. He screamed at the referee, slapping the mat in frustration. "That was three! Count faster!"
The ref stood firm, holding up two fingers. Sandro pounded the mat again before turning his glare back to Shawn.
"Stay down!" Sandro bellowed with a loud voice, dragging Michaels up by his hair. He hooked him, lifting for a powerbomb, but Shawn managed to counter it mid air into a hurricanrana that sent Sandro crashing into the corner turnbuckles!
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Name: Alessandro Zhang
Age: 20 (2010)
Birthplace: Orlando, Florida, USA
Brand: WWE - RAW
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