BG East promotes the Demolition series as "One hot guy gets nearly destroyed by his ANGRY, POWERFUL, or just SADISTIC opponent! Beatings!" That's the premise Demolition 4 plays with in four highly charged matches that vary according to the personalities of their stars, the company's top tier at the time of production--around 2001, I think. (Dating video wrestling releases is iffy because copyright dates don't necessarily correspond to production dates.)
Match 1: Ken Decker versus Kid Leopard
Ken Decker looks like military or law-enforcement, square-jawed and beetle-browed, with broad no-nonsense shoulders and strong limbs. The rainbow-colored trunks seem incongruous with the man's physical presence, and it's difficult for me to say whether they mean that he's gay, that he's more festive than his deadpan face would suggest, or that he's doomed. The situation, of course, suggests the last option. ("All of the above" is another attractive option.) Kid Leopard comes out in leopard print trunks and matching armbands, which symbolize, clearly, that he's the predator. The two wrestlers lock up in the gentlemanly style of golden-age wrestling, and Ken gets an early advantage with a steely tight side headlock on the Leopard. Unable to match the he-man in brute power, KL resorts to cunning, initially by reaching up and grabbing the man's hair, but then immediately suffering for it. A palm to the face and then a grab to the balls are summarily punished as well with a sharp wrench to Kid's neck. A barrage of rabbit punches ultimately succeeds in securing his escape, and henceforth Leopard's wrath is relentless.
Kid Leopard immediately proceeds to batter his foe in the ring corner--ring-corner beatdowns are the reason wrestling rings and ropes exist, as far as I'm concerned. Since Ken faces the post with Kid behind him, we're looking at a buttfucking here, not literally, but effectively. Ken's legs stretch wide for the incoming punishment. Kid treats Ken to the same headlock he just escaped and then proceeds to a steady succession of punishments, each one more elaborate and seemingly less survivable than the last. The genius of Kid Leopard is his knowledge of both familiar and exotic submission holds and his gift for eroticizing a match without necessarily having to go full-metal raunch (which he does too), sometimes with an offhand tug at the crotch of his spotted bikini. At one point, having bared Decker's ass and left him face down on the mat, Leopard strokes his boner at the turnbuckle and commands Decker to crawl to him and place his head between KL's waiting thighs. (You got that, didn't you?) And he does! The match ends in a victory grope and smooch that is unforgettable.
Match 2: Mikey Vee versus Steve Sherwood
I've written elsewhere about my hard-on for Mikey Vee, and here in Demolition 4 he is in peak condition, mature, with dark butch haircut, well-rounded physique of an Apollo, and, of course, huge chip on his shoulder. Steve Sherwood enters draped in the Union Jack. It might as well be a bull's-eye. When Sherwood affirms that he is in fact here to wrestle the smug American, Vee responds noncommittally with "It's your life, pal." Back then any ring with Mikey in it should have had the warning label "Hazardous to Your Health." Nobody but nobody took more gleeful satisfaction in the demolition of his opponents than Vee. Sherman is smaller, slimmer, yet ruggedly built--and of course unquestionably a goner.
Vee shows off his physique for the visiting Brit. The question of which version of Vee one prefers can be a contentious one. He certainly was leaner and better defined in his younger years, when he wore his hair long and epitomized the egotistic college jock. Me, I like him here: fully ripened, not yet tattooed, hairline just beginning to recede, his midsection firm but not wasplike. It's a body that has weight and gravity, the kind that makes me gasp a little every time I see it. Scars on his scalp and cheek are pronounced enough to give one pause before tangling with him. Sherwood, for instance, should have considered those scars before attacking Vee from behind. Steve is basically asking for what he's about to get.
Mikey lacks the grace and finesse of Kid Leopard. He relies on brute force, rage, and, in this match, his size advantage. He belongs to the pound-them-till-they-can't-move-anymore school of wrestling. He relies on the tried-and-true torments of the backyard bully: the full nelson, grinding his chin to the spine, bending his foe in half, constant berating, repeated snapmares, boot kicks, back breakers, bearhugs, and an unbelievably short fuse. In a word, delightful. His knowledge of wrestling holds improved over his years at BG East. In his last recorded match there, he is basically a machine that cripples people. He's well on his way to this Terminator status against Sherwood, who, I like to imagine, is still known as "Little Fuck" to his friends back in the UK to this day. Watch this match in fast-forward and you can see Sherwood's hard-on stretch and grow--like the time-lapse unfurling of a bean sprout in a film for seventh-grade science. Key moment for me: a sweaty Mikey stretched back on the ringside couch, headscissoring Steve and forcing him to watch Vee beat up Brad Rochelle in Fantasymen 17. (Seriously, this is exactly how I want to watch the Bourne tetralogy someday.)
Match 3: Troy Baker versus Brigham Bell
Another peak physical moment of a BG East legend: Troy Baker in baggy shorts and a cutoff T, barefoot, jumping rope at the opening of his segment of Demolition 4. Pitting the cherubic blond stud against the devilishly goateed Brigham Bell was a stroke of brilliance on somebody's part. Letting us watch Troy slowly strip down to schoolbus-yellow trunks was another. Brigham's sneak attack on the tan babyface was then just a matter of fate and animal instinct. Bell is good with the close handwork I like in a video match, when a camera can catch every finger-stretch of the nostrils and every clutched hank of hair while the victim chokes in a headlock. All Troy has to do is look fantastic while getting the shit kicked out of him--not as easy as some might think--but he does it like it's the most natural thing in the world.
Taking nothing away from Bell's heel performance here, here, more than in the previous two matches, we see the artistry of suffering. Troy had a gift for it. Few wrestlers writhed, thighs open, as well as Troy did or looked so good stretched backward with his midsection thrust towards the camera. Troy's specialty was entanglements in the ring ropes, and nobody, except possibly for Brad Rochelle and Wade Cutler, did these better than Troy. (I'd be interested in hearing some other nominees for the honor.) Brigham plays the ropes like harp strings, and he seizes the opportunity to bring Troy's jumprope into the game, choking the blond to dry breathy gasps while he pounds at those perfect, smooth pecs.
If anything, Brigham is a mite too scrupulous about letting us admire Troy's suffering body. I would like more skin contact, muscle brushing up against muscle, and less doll-like bending of his pretty victim to amply display him to us fans. His understandable care in this respect denies us the greater pleasure of long grinds and braided limbs, however wonderful it is to see unimpeded every inch of Troy stretching and thrashing. The final choke and three-count is the most sustained body contact in the bout. For this reason, the third match is (for me, all about touch and weight) the weak link in this video's four beatdowns.
Match 4: Blaze versus Mike Columbo
Both Blaze and Mike Columbo are amazing looking wrestlers. I mean "amazing" quite literally: I can get lost just following the curves and contours of their bodies. Like Mikey Vee, Blaze has played leading roles in a number of online fantasy wrestling matches on which I've collaborated with friends. In the metallic gold trunks he wears in this match he looks like a superstar. He towers over Columbo, who nevertheless shows no fear (he should, as subsequent events illustrate), shoving Blaze aside so he can enter the ring. Or I should say "trying to shove," since Blaze pushes him off the ring apron, then weightlessly flies over the top rope to trounce him on the floor and smother him in the cushions of the ringside couch. Thus begins the demolition of Mr. Columbo (Happy Columbus Day, readers).
With the dispassion of a true sadist (no anger, no real interest in pain except for the detached observation of how others might experience it), Blaze brains Mike against the ring's hard edge. Twice. Then he blithely strikes a double bicep pose, while Columbo thrashes and shivers on his back with possible cranial nerve damage. Mike no sooner sits up than Blaze's knee pins him facedown to the ring apron. Blaze holds the middle rope to facilitate the grinding of Mike's upper vertebrae, while smiling sweetly like he's having his yearbook picture taken. The rhythmic squeaking of the ropes, combined with the thrust of Blaze's pelvis atop the handsome babyface is--I am sorry, Mike--incredibly erotic for me. Blaze tears the sleeveless T off Mike, bashes his head once again to the ring edge, and commences to strangling the guy with his own shirt.
The inhuman out-of-ring abuse persists. (Thank You God.) Every blow is matched with a smack of bone hitting muscle, like raw filet mignons being slapped against a brick wall, and followed by a heart-wrenching moan escaping Columbo's lips. Just when it looks like this match is never going to get inside the ring, Blaze tosses Mike's near-lifeless body through the ropes and cross-presses him for a count of two but then says, "Naw, I'm not gonna do that," and raises Mike to his feet for some off-the-ropes clotheslines. My dick has been on code red for too many minutes to count. Another two-count follows, Blaze's chest bearing down on the victim's, also aborted by the suave heel in gold, slapping Mike back into consciousness so that the pretty boy can experience every millisecond of agony to come.
Now for a round of hyper-charged corner work--and, jeez louise, you know how much Daddy loves his corner work. And this stuff goes beyond the pale, Blaze's silky, glimmering crotch pressed right to Mike's lips as Blaze thrusts the back of the man's head towards the ring post. Oh my fucking jesus god spank me now. This is the good stuff that Demolition 4 was saving for the end. Or, wait, not quite the end. Because now Columbo revives for a thrilling hope spot that promises to turn the tide, until Blaze dodges a poorly timed move, and Mike hurls himself against the corner. A hanging full nelson finally drains the last bit of life out of Mike (and me), and we're left with a mighty fine shot of Columbo's ass and then Mike rolls over to give his battle-weary torso some camera exposure, also. This is easily one of BG East's sexiest matches with everybody's clothes still on--and a classic among classics.