Custom - Joey McCoy vs VanGore

In the most bizarre and titillating mismatch ever to hit the Weekend Wrestling ring, the barefoot, thick-bodied juggernaut VanGore climbs over the top rope and begins pounding the mat with his heavy limbs, rattling the studio with every warm-up thud. But it’s not just the walls that shake—suddenly, in a puff of smoke, the tiniest terror in WW history arrives: Joey McCoy, barefoot in glistening purple trunks and a crimson cloak, oozing evil confidence and eyeing the giant like he’s dinner. The visual alone is worth the price of admission—WW’s tallest vs. shortest in a freakshow-style standoff that feels more like a cursed fairytale than a sanctioned match. Joey talks science, sass, and smack before slithering into the ring and shoving VanGore with all the defiance his 5'2", 130-pound body can manage—only to get crotched, lifted overhead, and dropped like luggage onto the turnbuckle. From there, it’s a wild war of contrasting flesh: VanGore stretches, bends, and tortures the little demon with kneeling submissions, thunderous chokes, and brute force—until Joey claws the eyes, lands a low blow, and unleashes hell. Suddenly it’s VanGore getting squeezed in scissors, clawed in the chest, and worked over in a dragon sleeper. A brief comeback earns him a humiliating strip—his white compression shorts yanked off, exposing skimpy grey briefs and an avalanche of humiliation. Joey mounts him, literally and figuratively, riding his back while cranking on a leglock, clawing, chopping, and twisting those meaty nipples like the bratty villain he is. VanGore tries everything—slam attempts, chokes using his own torn gear, but the demon doesn’t stay down. A final hell-born bodyslam sends Joey crashing, but Joey lives in the underworld—and it’s starting to look like VanGore may be the one who won’t survive the heat.