Choreography is kind of a misnomer. Violence, though, yeah, that's pretty accurate.

Pics from my New Era title shot against Nate Phoenix:



I stole his belt to see what the fans thought of me having it. Right there he's saying something along the lines of "REFFFFFFFF! HE STOLE MY BELLLLLLLLLT! HE'S NOT ALLOWED TO STEAL MY BELLLLLT, REFFFFF!"




Waiting on the match to start.




Nate's laughing, but he's about to turn around into a big armdrag.




He kicked out.




The champ begging the Celtic Crippler to stop putting the hurt on him.




After charging in like an idiot and getting ****canned out of the ring.




Nate Phoenix cheating, miracle of miracles.

Sadly, I have no pics to detail the finish of the match. Nate threw me off the ropes, and I ducked two consecutive clotheslines before flying back at him as we both threw one. We both connected and fell, and I stumbled up to the corner. He came charging in for a big splash, I moved, and after he slammed into the turnbuckle and turned around, I hit him with a huge inverted atomic drop. He stumbled around, clutching his groin, right into a big spinebuster. I covered him, and got a two count before he put his foot on the ropes to break the count. I got up, angrily, and turned to ask the ref if he was sure his foot as on the rope. I turned around to see Nate throwing a wheelkick at me, which I ducked. I hooked him for my finisher, the Bitter End (an inverted DDT), but he swung his knee up into my face and I let go. He hit me with both fists to the gut, and then hooked me for HIS finisher, a Fisherman's Suplex. Well I wasn't having it, so I punched HIM in the gut, spun him around, and nailed the Bitter End in the middle of the ring.

I pinned him for a good eight seconds before a boot hit me in the side of the head. Apparently, half the bad guys in the locker room pulled out the ref at two, and proceeded to stomp the bejeezus out of me.






*dramatic sigh*

Perhaps another day.