Brody Merritt and Zach Reno enter the Weekend Wrestling ring as two of the company’s most physically impressive, fur-coated icons. Brody rocks tiny black-and-red trunks under a tight letterman jacket with a Superman "S" stitched on the chest, looking every bit the all-American power stud. Zach pops in his wild neon green-and-orange gear, cocky and full of energy. Both have taken their share of punishment from the likes of VanGore, Shockwave, and Brendan Byers, and now, they’re ready to form an alliance—brotherhood forged in sweat and scars. But Brody sees Zach as a sidekick, and that word doesn’t sit right. One slap to the face sends Brody’s glasses flying—and suddenly, this isn't a team effort anymore.
Zach hammers Brody's core, mounts him, and lays in strike after strike, before yanking off the jacket and wrapping Brody into a nasty chinlock. But Brody’s had enough—he boots Zach in the gut, takes him down, and mounts up with a deep half camel clutch, clawing at his face with a smirk. “It’d be an honor to be my sidekick,” he growls, as he drills knees into Zach’s core, ties him in an abdominal stretch, and claws into his side. Then, with a hard yank of the front of Zach’s trunks, Brody hikes them deep, riding high into every crevice, the camera catching each slow grind and arch. Zach answers with chokes—using his wrist tape—and claws of his own. Brody headbutts him in the corner and delivers stomp after stomp, eventually stretching Zach in a full nelson in the ropes, his hairy body arched and pulled tight for the camera to admire.
The action only gets filthier. A low blow mule kick swings control back to Zach, who unloads with axe handles and a vicious crossface chicken wing, followed by a cocky pin. Brody surprises everyone by grabbing a fistful of trunks and squeezing, breaking free and hoisting Zach up by the crotch like a trophy before dropping him across his knee for a devastating backbreaker. He holds him there—stretched, bulging, glistening—as the camera gets in close for a slow pan. Zach escapes, slaps on a leg scissors, and forces Brody to spread wide, the trunks riding up and glutes on full display. Another handful of fabric bends the big man over before Zach spikes him into the canvas. Then, in a teasing twist, Zach seems to call off the fight—before slamming a fist into Brody’s chest and starting again. This one’s as much about dominance as it is about damage. Will they be enemies, tag team bros, or something even more volatile? In 30 minutes, every question gets answered—one exposed flex, stretch, and straining trunk at a time.
