Z-Man’s a hot stud with those shadow-casting pecs and that pretty face. Yours truly struts barefoot and ready to brawl. Standing face-to-face, we’re a pretty even match as far as size and good looks go...and it’s always a pleasure to see a pathetic jobberboy eat it. Z-Man tastes the corner, then the floor, as I camel his ass and sleeper him, clawing at his pretty boy face with pleasure.
“You know what I like about jobbers like you? I can show the camera each and every muscle I’m tearing apart. Show off that body!” I show off Z-Man’s pecs and abs when I get him in a double hammerlock, only to find myself getting strangled in the corner when Z-Man recovers. I grab his hair in retaliation, then drape his muscular body over my knee, hoist him into the air, then slam him down again.
I claw and elbow his abs, crank his neck, crush his torso, and never ever let up. Arms and legs tangle as I force the pretty muscle hunk into one compromising position after another. A slow test of strength sees us exchanging positions of power. Looks like Z-Man really is the jobber of the century...but can he find the strength to come out of this confrontation holding his head up?
