54. The Match For FCW Tag Team Championship Stipulation

The night of the match arrived, and the atmosphere in the arena was electric. Fans packed the stands, holding up signs supporting both Dragon Boom and The Empire. The tension was palpable as the announcers hyped up the importance of the match: the winner would choose the stipulation for the FCW Tag Team Championship, a massive advantage going into the title bout.

As Sandro made his way to the ring, the crowd erupted in cheers. He soaked in the energy, feeling the weight of the moment but also the excitement coursing through him. This was it—the culmination of weeks of buildup, and he was ready.

Drew followed, his entrance greeted with a mix of cheers and boos, the fans knowing full well his reputation for bending the rules. He looked confident, smirking as he stepped into the ring, his eyes locked on Sandro.

The bell rang, signaling the start of what was certain to be a match for the ages. The energy inside the arena was electric, with fans on their feet, eager to witness the final chapter in the escalating feud between Sandro and Drew.

The stakes were clear: whoever won tonight would earn the right to choose the stipulation for the FCW Tag Team Championship match between Dragon Boom and The Empire. Both teams' futures rested on the outcome, and the competitors knew it.

Sandro stood in his corner, eyes locked on Drew, who was oozing with confidence, as always. The fans cheered wildly for Sandro, the fan favorite, while Drew received a mix of boos and some hesitant cheers from his supporters, who appreciated his cunning, if not his methods. Drew smirked, his arrogance on full display as he slowly circled the ring.

The two men wasted no time locking up in the center of the ring, each testing the other's strength in an early grapple. Drew tried to use his size and leverage to push Sandro into a corner, but Sandro wasn't backing down. He planted his feet and powered through, pushing Drew back to the center. The crowd roared with approval, already feeding off the energy of the match.

From there, the contest evolved into a series of lightning-fast exchanges. Sandro and Drew knew each other's moves so well after weeks of clashes that every attack was met with a perfectly timed counter. Sandro went for an arm drag, but Drew flipped out of it, landing on his feet.

Drew tried to hit Sandro with a running knee strike, but Sandro ducked under it, bouncing off the ropes to build momentum. They ran the ropes in unison, ducking and dodging each other's strikes, neither man able to gain the upper hand.

At one point, Drew sent Sandro flying into the ropes with a powerful Irish whip. Drew prepared for a clothesline, but Sandro saw it coming. Instead of rebounding toward his opponent, Sandro grabbed onto the top rope and held himself there, stopping his momentum completely. The crowd erupted in laughter and cheers as Sandro playfully wagged his finger at Drew, mimicking the taunt that Eddie Guerrero had made famous.

Drew, irritated by Sandro's antics, charged forward, but Sandro sidestepped him with a quick leap, causing Drew to crash chest-first into the ropes. Sandro took advantage of the moment, hitting Drew with a quick roll-up. The referee slid into position for the count.

"One! Two!"

Drew kicked out just before the three-count, his frustration visibly growing. Sandro shot the ref a knowing grin, acknowledging how close he had come to an early win.

The match continued at a blistering pace. Sandro, utilizing his strength and agility, hit Drew with a series of suplexes, each one executed with precision. Drew, on the other hand, employed more underhanded tactics, using every opportunity to rake Sandro's eyes or pull his hair when the referee's view was obstructed. Despite this, Sandro kept his composure, knowing that Drew's cheating would eventually be his downfall.

As the match wore on, both men began to show signs of fatigue, but neither was willing to give an inch. The crowd was fully invested, chanting both competitors' names as they battled back and forth in the ring. Every reversal, every near fall sent the fans into a frenzy, their excitement building with each minute that passed.

Then, in a crucial moment, Sandro charged at Drew, aiming for a devastating clothesline. But Drew, ever the opportunist, sidestepped at the last second, sending Sandro crashing into the referee. The referee went down hard, knocked out cold, and suddenly the match took a dramatic turn.

The crowd gasped, sensing what was coming next. Drew, seeing his opportunity, quickly rolled out of the ring and grabbed a steel chair from beneath the apron. With a sly grin, he slid the chair into the ring and tossed it to Sandro before collapsing to the mat himself, clutching his head as though he'd been hit.

It was a classic Eddie Guerrero move, the same trick Drew had used to cheat his way to victory in previous matches. But there was a flaw in Drew's plan this time: the referee was still out cold, unable to see anything that had just transpired.

Sandro, who had caught the chair, looked down at it, his mind racing. Then, as if channeling the late, great Eddie Guerrero, Sandro's expression shifted. He gave the crowd a mischievous grin—the kind that told everyone watching that he had a plan of his own.

The fans, many of whom recognized the Guerrero tribute immediately, began to buzz with excitement. They knew something special was about to happen.

With the chair in hand, Sandro didn't hesitate. He slammed it down onto the mat with a thunderous crack, making sure the sound echoed through the entire arena. Then, with a sly smirk still on his face, Sandro placed the chair on his own chest, fell to the mat, and pretended to be knocked out cold, playing possum as perfectly as Guerrero once did.

Drew, hearing the noise, lifted his head in confusion. He saw Sandro lying motionless on the mat with the chair, and for a brief moment, panic crossed his face. He hadn't expected this turn of events. Quickly, he got to his feet, looking around in disbelief as the crowd roared in approval of Sandro's antics.

It was then that the referee began to stir. Slowly, he regained his senses, blinking and looking around the ring. His eyes fell on Sandro, still "unconscious" with the chair lying beside him. The referee didn't need to see anything more. He immediately assumed that Drew had used the chair as a weapon while he was down.

Without hesitation, the referee called for the bell.

The arena erupted in a mixture of cheers and gasps. Drew stood frozen in disbelief, his arms outstretched as he tried to explain what had happened. He argued with the referee, pointing to the still-dazed Sandro, but it was no use. The referee's decision was final: Drew had been disqualified for using the chair, and Sandro had won the match.

Sandro, hearing the bell, slowly sat up, a wide grin spreading across his face. He looked around at the ecstatic crowd, who were now chanting "Eddie! Eddie!" in honor of the legendary wrestler whose trickery Sandro had just replicated so perfectly. Sandro, ever the showman, gave a subtle wink to the audience, acknowledging the tribute and sending the fans into an even bigger frenzy.

Drew, meanwhile, was furious. He stormed around the ring, arguing with the referee and kicking the ropes in frustration. He couldn't believe that his own plan had been turned against him, and by Sandro of all people. The irony wasn't lost on the crowd, who reveled in the poetic justice of the moment.

As Drew finally stormed out of the ring, fuming and red-faced, Sandro stood tall in the center, raising his arms in victory. The fans continued to chant his name, their admiration for the clever finish palpable. Sandro had not only won the match but had done so in a way that paid tribute to one of the greatest tricksters in wrestling history.

As he made his way up the ramp, celebrating with fans along the way, Sandro knew that this win was more than just a victory for him and Dragon Boom. It was a statement. Drew had cheated his way to victory in the past, but tonight, karma had caught up to him. Sandro had outsmarted him, and now, Dragon Boom had the power to choose the stipulation for the upcoming FCW Tag Team Championship match.

As Sandro reached the top of the ramp, preparing to disappear backstage, the booming sound of Dusty Rhodes' entrance music hit the speakers. The crowd erupted in surprise and excitement, their cheers reaching a fever pitch. Sandro stopped in his tracks, turning around to see Dusty, microphone in hand, striding confidently onto the stage.

"Hold up, Sandro! Not so fast, kid!" Dusty called out with a wide grin, his voice booming through the arena. The crowd roared in approval, eager to see what Dusty had to say. Sandro, still riding the high of his victory, nodded and smiled, motioning for Dusty to continue.

But before Dusty could get another word out, the unmistakable sound of Steve's entrance music hit. The fans exploded into cheers once again as Steve made his way out, microphone in hand, joining Dusty at the top of the ramp. The two legends stood side by side, their presence commanding the entire arena's attention.

Sandro looked between Dusty and Steve, his curiosity piqued, but also slightly surprised by the sudden appearance of both men. He knew whatever was about to happen, it was bound to be memorable.

Dusty raised his microphone to his lips, grinning ear to ear as he looked at Sandro and then turned his gaze to the crowd. "Now, now! Before Sandro heads on back, we gotta do something right, don't we?" Dusty's Southern drawl oozed with charisma, his words immediately drawing the crowd's attention.

The fans, always eager to follow Dusty's lead, began chanting, "You deserve it! You deserve it!" directed toward Sandro, whose grin widened at the overwhelming show of support. The arena was alive with the sound of clapping and cheering, the chant growing louder with each passing second.

Steve raised his microphone, joining in the moment. "That's right, baby! This man right here, Sandro, just put on a clinic! He outsmarted Drew, gave us a match for the ages, and now he's got the power to make the biggest decision heading into that Tag Team Championship match!" Steve's voice was filled with excitement as he hyped up the crowd.

Dusty nodded, feeding off the energy of the audience. "Sandro, brother, you got the whole arena on their feet. These people know greatness when they see it, and tonight, you gave them somethin' special. But we all know what's coming up next, don't we?" He leaned in, raising an eyebrow. "The big question on everyone's mind: what kinda match are we gonna see at the FCW Tag Team Championship? What stipulation are you gonna choose for Dragon Boom against The Empire?"

Sandro, still catching his breath from the intense match, raised a hand, motioning for the microphone. Dusty handed it over with a knowing grin, sensing that the next few moments would be monumental.

The crowd hushed slightly, their anticipation building as Sandro lifted the microphone to his lips. He took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling, the weight of the decision he was about to announce evident on his face.

"This decision…," Sandro began, his voice slightly hoarse but steady. "It wasn't easy. Kofi and I have been talking about it for a while, going over all the options, thinking about what would give us the best chance to walk out as the FCW Tag Team Champions."

The fans were hanging on his every word, the suspense palpable. Sandro looked around the arena, feeling the energy from the thousands of faces eagerly awaiting his next sentence.

He paused for a moment, letting the tension build. "We talked about Steel Cage… we talked about No Holds Barred… we considered every option. But after all that, we decided there's only one match that could truly settle things between us and The Empire."

The crowd's buzz grew louder as Sandro continued, clearly building toward something big. He could feel the anticipation in the air, and he wasn't about to let the moment pass without milking it for all it was worth.

"The match we've chosen," Sandro said, his voice booming through the microphone as he took one final pause, "is going to be… a TLC match!"

The crowd exploded into cheers, the noise almost deafening as the words left Sandro's lips. Fans leapt to their feet, holding up signs, clapping, and shouting in approval. TLC—Tables, Ladders, and Chairs—was one of the most grueling and high-risk stipulations in wrestling, and everyone in the arena knew it meant chaos and excitement on an unparalleled level.

_______________________

Name: Alessandro Zhang

Age: 18 (2008)

Birthplace: Orlando, Florida USA

Brand: FCW

Wrestling Style: Mixed Of All Style

Faction: Dragon Boom (Tag Team)

Championship History: 0