You hear your name called and exit the dressing room. As you walk down the aisle towards the ring, you try and look brave and cool for the audience, but inside you aren't sure what to expect. As you look around, you notice the crowd is a mix of humans and furries, a few hybrids, even the odd anthro here and there. You climb into the ring and await your opponent.
"And his opponent," calls the announcer, "weighing in at 364 pounds! He'd rather stomp on your ass than on forest fires. This Ben is anything but Gentle! He eats his porridge even when it *is* too hot! And you better believe he *does* do it in the woods! Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrizzlor!"
Striding down the aisle is a 7-foot tall grizzly bear, its thick pelt a deep brown, shaggy but not hiding its muscular physique. It's wearing a ripped up pair of denim shorts with a length of rope as a belt. As it climbs over the ropes, it growls menacingly at you. Now, you're no weakling. You're 180 pounds of gym-trained wrestling talent. And against any human opponent you'd consider yourself a sure thing. But almost 400 pounds of ursine fury is a totally different matter. The bear is playing it up for the fans, hitting poses and really working it. No prizes for guessing who the favourite is in this match.
The bell rings, and suddenly its all business. The bear spins round to face you, lips curled in a snarl. You circle around warily, looking for an opening, a weakness, anything. The two of you lunge forward and lock up, and it's like wrestling a brick wall, you can't move the bear at all. It gives a mighty shove and send yous flying backwards, bouncing off the ropes and landing face first on the mat. The crowd goes nuts.
The bear picks you up by the hair, grabs you under the crotch and lifts you over its head, holding you kicking and squirming 9 feet above the canvas. You know what's coming, but as you slowly start tilting forward you gasp in panic as you are body-slammed hard, right in the middle of the ring. Your whole back feels like it is on fire, and your vision is filled with little dancing lights.
You hardly feel it as the bear drags you to your feet again, and shoves you hard against the ropes. You bounce back into its waiting arms, and it clamps on its signature move, the bearhug!
It locks its huge arms right around your waist, hoisting you up off the floor and squeezing with all its strength right into your lower back. Pain explodes up the length of your spine, and you can hear your ribs creaking as they are crushed against the immovable wall of the bears torso. You try to breathe but your lungs are so compressed you can only take feeble gasps. Your vision is swimming and everything sounds like is is going in slow motion, but over it all you hear the bear yelling: "How about that? You gonna give it up? Huh? You gonna give it up, you furless piece of monkey crap! Let me hear it, say you give it! Give it or I'll snap you right here!"
You're trying desperately to say yes, you give, but you don't have enough breath to speak. You nod as furiously as you can and keep tapping repeatedly on the bears shoulder to indicate your surrender, but the vice-like squeeze just keeps going and going, you can't stay conscious in this much longer.
"Whoops! I forgot!" The bear suddenly shouts in mock surprise, "This is a no-submissions match! Didn't they tell you, monkey-meat? I guess I should stop playing with you and start really fighting!" and with that he throws you down onto the mat where you clutch at your agony-filled back. Playing? *That* was just playing? If the bear is telling the truth, then you're in for a lot more pain before this match will be over.
The bear is posing for the crowd again, and they're lapping it up. He has his back to you at the moment though, and as you groggily get back to your feet, you realise you might have a chance here...
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