Kirk Donahue: 5'10, 170 lbs Zarella teaches Kirk to disrespect the cape by brutally strangling him with it from behind A seated armbar absretch variation has Zarella screaming for mercy from the smaller stud A thoroughly toasted Kirk gets trampled and tortured in the turnbuckles with a booted choke Kirk suffers beautifully for disrespecting Kirk's cape with a neck-crunching full nelson Kirk arches painfully, his beautiful body and babyfaced perfection trampled under Zip's full weight
Flash and Substance
Zip Zarella and Kirk Donahue are cut from the same cloth. Both accomplished young indy pro veterans have taken BG East by storm with a combination of high quality professional wrestling skills and smoking hot bodies. They're both showmen, each in his own way fueled by fan reactions. Kirk intends to be the best technical wrestler on the BG East roster, and his swelling ranks of fans can't get enough of his relentlessly paced chain wrestling and innovative submission holds. Zip, on the other hand, just wants to be the last man standing, flexing his magnificent muscles, and being the last, climactic image that you see before ecstasy overtakes you. From similar roots, with equivalent ring experience, they each have a different path in mind, but both hot hunks are as serious as a heart attack at being the next phenom that you can't stop talking about.
Kirk can't quite believe his eyes when Zip climbs into the ring in the full-length black cape that he wore at the Wrestling with Pride event last winter. "Look how good I look, goddamn!" Zip is awestruck by his own sensational hotness staring back at him in the mirror as he flexes like a comic book character. The extravagant wardrobe choice merely confirms Kirk's estimation of his opponent as all flash and no substance. Nobody needs to wear a cape to a pro wrestling ring, Kirk scoffs. "But even still, I'd look better in that than you do."
Zip promptly uses the cape to drag Kirk to the mat by the improvised noose. "I just wanted to be nice and show you my cape," Zip snarls, "but you had to be a dickhead." Zip lords his significant size advantage over the middleweight flyer, crushing Kirk's baby face against Zip's rock hard, liberally illustrated chest. "Let's see you disrespect my cape again," he snarls furiously. "I'm Zip-Fucking-Zarella!"
Kirk works the angles and pushes his tolerances with perfectly executed escapes and reversals. He spins free from a headlock and twists precisely into applying a savagely tight hammerlock that makes Zip bounce on his toes. "You're going to break my arm," Zip yelps in panic. "Maybe I will," Kirk snaps back, giving a glimpse of the babyface's dark side. Moments later, when Zip is hell bent on snapping Kirk's spine between his thickly muscled thighs, Kirk slips free from the scissors and makes Zip scream in a leg lock and chin lock combination executed to perfection. Kirk's just too fast, too on point, and too driven for Zip to gain any traction.
All of that aesthetic muscle suddenly comes crashing down on Kirk in a barrage of boot stomps and shoulder blocks in the corner. High impact pummeling and an obvious intent on breaking bones gives Zip the momentum that has eluded him thus far. "You shit talk my cape? I'm going to fuck you up!" Zip growls, locking down an iron clad full nelson and shaking Kirk's ripped body like a ragdoll. Kirk's infamously massive pouch bounces and quivers as he struggles to muscle free, but Zip bears down on him mercilessly until he forces the babyface to submit by screaming, "Zip is my fucking master!" Zip flings him into a heap and starts flexing over him. "You're damn right, you little shit!"
As the increasingly heated competition burns brighter, Kirk flips and flies, tying Zip up in humiliating knots and prying apart the muscle hunk's joints until he screams in panic. Zip counters with blunt force trauma, pounding the middleweight babyface from corner to corner and power slamming him repeatedly to the mat. "Huh, I seem to be kicking your ass," Zip taunts, crushing Kirk's face into the mat while literally standing on the back of his head. Whether you're rooting for technical skills and innovative holds or magnificent bodies flexing victoriously for your pleasure, this unrelenting sprint has it all. The outcome of this match may not sway your allegiance from one of these high class hunks to the other, but the winner is clearly pleased to deliver what BG East fans are clamoring for, including making his prey scream, "I'm a pathetic little bitch!"
Kirk grounds the tattooed muscle stud with a knee to the back and a shoulder-wrecking armbar
Kirk shifts into drive with a tight, crushing side headlock on the bigger, tatted prettyboy heel
A grounded swing surfboard variation sees a dominant Zip testing Kirk's pain threshold
Zarella's crushing quads trap Kirk leaving his back exposed to a brutal beating
Kirk bulges beautifully as he suffers in a two-handed choke over the ring ropes
Donahue is a sexy, sweaty mess of pain as Zip toys and twists his wrists
Zip Zarella: 6'0, 205 lbs Kirk can barely believe the get up that Zarella has decided to wear for his ring entrance Both hunky hardbodies running on fumes as Kirk desperately tries to wear Zip down with a sleeper Kirk grovels on the mat, soothing his aching manhood as Zip berates him for stepping in the ring Kirk's body dangles lifelessly over the rope, victim to Zip's bronco-busting, rope-assisted choke Zarella reigns supreme as he kneels, victorious over the babyface goldenboy
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