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Bad Boy was down for the count! No way of kicking out after getting a fork driven into his head followed by a DDT! Luckily with the triple threat match, the man he was thinking of breaking his throat was his saviour of the match, and it wasn't even on purpose! Unfortunately that "saving" drove The Shah's body right into the ribs of Bad Boy, waking him up into a panic of not being able to breathe well! Slowly Bad Boy would begin rolling off to the side of the ring! The blood was beginning to cover his forehead entirely.

Hiro rolled to the ropes and used them to stagger back up to his feet, backing up into a corner as he shook his head free of the ringing it contain thanks to the headbutt. Freakshow, the real Shah, was up with his arms over the ropes. He was about to feel pain once more. Running from the side of Freak, Hiro tried to clip his legs out from under him from the side with a chopblock. However, he wasn't done, for if he was successful, he'd quickly roll to his right out of the ring and grab Freak by the chopblocked right leg, looking to pull it up and smash it back down on the apron!

Hiro had a hard time keeping his emotion in check...an emotion of pure joy. Hiro pulled the Shah from the ring and cracked him across his face and nearly dropped him down to the ground outside. However, he wasn't going to let him down that easily. Hiro pulled the arms of Freakshow back and held on to him looking to lift him up slightly as if for an implant buster, but instead looked to drop down to a knee to deliver a reverse atomic drop to the champ! Should it connect, Hiro would keep hold and walk to the barricade with Freak still in hold, offering him up to chops from fans in the front row! Not only was Hiro going to get a piece of Freashow tonight, but the fans who had to put up with him for so long would as well!

The God of Will threw Freakshow off to the ground like the trash that Drake is and slapped hands with a few fans, all of whom were ridiculously ecstatic that they got to deliver pain to the Shah personally tonight. Shin-Mozas looked to bring Freakshow up to his feet and send him under the bottom rope and back into the ring, where we would attempt to cover him and end the match! The dry blood on Hiro's face glistened as he did so, looking like the mask of a new man.

Hiro grabbed a kendo stick from under the ring before he rolled in after Freakshow, deciding that a weapon would be nice to have to plunge the Shah's demons from him. However, suddenly, the Marauder began having an episode. An eyebrow cocked as he stood, Hiro slid under the bottom rope and kept his eyes on Freak as he started to become red in the face, and body. This wasn't blood on the outside, it was all on the inside. He was clutching his chest. Holy s**t, Freakshow was having a heart attack. Throwing the kendo stick off to the side, Hiro ran to Freak and dropped to his knees checking on him. He called for the ref, screaming "Someone get some help!" This was insane, fans started to grow quiet, it felt like everything had halted. Jim Ross was preparing to tell everyone that this was not a part of tonight's entertainment. King was getting ready to sue for gimmick infringement. This was very bad.

Freakshow lays on the ground twitching slightly as paramedics start carting the stretcher from the gorilla position down the ramp. The audience was quiet. Owen Hart quiet. The commentators spoke in hushed tones and twitter was aflame as the veteran wrestler lay perfectly still on the ground looking up at Hiro Shin-Mozas. "I can't breath." He rasps his voice reduced to a sliver as red in the face the Shah stares up into the lights confronted seemingly with a challenge far greater than Hiro Shin-Mozas or Bad Boy, his own mortality. No one in attendance knew how to respond. Sure, nobody liked The Shah. But no one deserved to have a heart attack on live PPV, not even a quasi-terrorist with hepatitis C.

"Sir we're going to need you to step aside."

The Doctor in the ring places his hand on Hiro's shoulder, he was close to 6'4 clad in a surgical mask with scrubs and dark glasses. The champion looks over at Hiro, a man who ultimately, he had trained. His gaze softens. His time had come and gone. This was no longer about him. It was about the future. A future that he, whether he liked it or not, had an indirect part in forging through his deplorable training methods. He had to acknowledge this. He had to finally accept that what he made was not a big fat stupid failure, but a success.

"I'm sorry."

The paramedic's blank expression and cold voice were the perfect cover behind the unnecessary layers of protection already added to hide his identity. The arena was silent and in shock that the champion, the Shah, a man they so despised was having to get carted off in a serious medical emergency. They hated the man, but the fans still had compassion, they knew the man was in pain. The doctor could feel the emotion in the crowd and from Hiro Shin-Mozas. It was overwhelming. The doctor was almost to the point where tears were strolling down his face as well. Riveting.

Rolling The Shah onto the gurney, the doctor gave a glance to the turned away Hiro. Shaking his head, the doctor thought two things at that very moment, "Once a Jew, always a Jew." and the more recognizable, "Never turn your back on a Jew." With that, the doctor tore off his face mask, hat and dark glasses to reveal the one and only, the Midnight Marauder, Brantley Summers after a year hiatus! The crowd let out a thunderous roar of boos as Summers went to grab Hiro and throw him into the ropes. Should everything go accordingly, Summers would drop to one knee and on the rebound, Summers would look to deliver the most DEVASTATING, DISASTROUS, DIABOLICAL move on sports entertainment, the LIONCOCK.