A battle rages in the jungle; with skyscrapers and glaring streetlights in place of lush green canopy and tropical blossoms, the concrete jungle of NYC proves just as raw and unforgiving. Despite the cold winter of Wrestlefest, primal desires run hot with a clash of cat’s claw and serpent’s fang, each determined to rise with the undisputed crown and turn this asphalt lined rainforest into a pain-forest complete with ambient cries of agony.

Leopard and Viper slam together with little time wasted on preamble, and holds are traded, testing each fighter’s strength and tenacity on either end of every maneuver. The struggle for dominance isn’t the only urge coming to a boiling point as stamina and resilience wear down with groans, gasps and moans melting together in submission and eventually tribute to the king. For the victor it’s no longer enough to dominate his opponent’s muscle, but his very manhood must be subdued. With one jungle titan fully tamed in every aspect, the victor is worshipped as he certifies his triumph with a victory load splashing his faithful subject’s chest