Riff Simmons vs Tanner Ripley

The camera fades in on a lone guitar—resting ringside, silent and proud. But Tanner Ripley doesn’t care about pride. He’s decked out in red trunks and pads, and before long, he's got the guitar in his hands, smirking, strumming mockingly, and treating it like cheap junk. That guitar? Her name’s Betsy. And she belongs to Riff Simmons. Riff storms out in his blue gear and feather boa, furious, and wastes no time—wrapping the boa around Tanner’s throat and dragging him into the chaos. The choke outside the ring is more of a warning than a finish, but the message is clear: don’t touch another man’s guitar. Riff tosses Tanner in the hard way and keeps the beat going inside the ring—suplexing him to the mat, stretching him out in a cruel abdominal stretch, working the legs in the ropes, locking on a stump puller, even grinding in a humiliating face-in-crotch scissors choke while Tanner gasps in frustration.

But Tanner doesn’t stay quiet for long. He fires back with stiff stomps and scoop slams that jolt Riff’s back with intent. He traps Riff in a full nelson with the hooks in, then wraps on a dragon sleeper, pulling tight. Riff claws, but Tanner’s got rhythm of his own—switching into a Boston crab, then a camel clutch/sleeper combo that drains the rockstar’s energy fast. There's choking on the ropes, an over-the-knee backbreaker paired with a nasty crotch claw, and two grinding scissors that leave Riff arching and twitching. He throws in a splash, a DDT, even uses Riff’s own boa to wear him down. Riff counters with choking on the ropes, finger punishment, and a slick armbar before wrapping that same boa around Tanner and getting a little payback—tight, mean, and right in front of the camera. By the end, boa feathers are scattered across the canvas, one man’s flat on his back, and Betsy? Betsy’s gone.