D3AN~!!! Day 5: MAD DOG~! DEMUS~!

DEAN~!!! 3 9/6/25

Mad Dog Connelly vs. Demus [Hair vs Hair]

MD:  This begins and ends with the eye. Injured the day before in San Francisco, Connelly stumbled and crashed down the aisle in Philadelphia, a flimsy eyepatch the only thing protecting one of the most vulnerable parts of the body, already woefully damaged. He'd barely survived Demus on the first DEAN~!!! show, and now with stakes infinitely higher, on a more even playing field outside of his trademark match, he began from a deep, almost impossible deficit. 

Like a wounded animal, he leaned into his own pain and targeted Demus' eye. He knew his own agony and wished nothing more than to share that feeling with his opponent. Connelly's desperate back-against-the-wall impulse drove his every action. He went for an early pin and then started to tear at Demus' shirt. At first, I thought this was to expose the chest for chops, and he did that, but more so, it was to gather resources. The shirt became a weapon, one that he could use in the absence of a dog collar in order to hang Demus over the rope.

But as desperate as Mad Dog might have been, Demus' own survival instincts were canny and activated. He'd lost hair matches before. He knew the bitter shame of such defeats. He would not face it now, especially not against a damaged opponent. So for the first time in the match (but certainly not the last), Demus went to the eye to escape. This would be a theme as the match went on. All things equal, maybe Connelly could beat Demus and maybe Demus could beat Connelly. But all things were not equal, and Demus would stop at nothing to win. 

Before long, the eyepatch was torn off, and the mutual sense of desperation had escalated. The two were throwing their own bodies at one another. Demus crashed off the turnbuckles with the bulkiest body block you'll ever see. Connelly, able to stay in it with an awesome punch and crushing chairshot, went careening into the chair in the center of the ring as a seated Demus moved at the last moment. Demus likewise crashed and burned off a senton attempt. 

That left Demus open to Connelly's best shot, a Gotch style pile driver. Given the low center of gravity at play, the skull hit the ground with no give, no mercy, no respite. Yet still, Demus somehow survived it and desperation creeping back in, the wounded dog climbed the ropes once more. This time however, Demus made it to his feet too early and was able to brandish the chair himself, tossing it straight up and straight at Connelly's eye.

The throw hit true and Connelly was left staggered and hopeless. From there, Demus hefted him up and dropped to his knees with the meanest Muscle Buster you'll ever see. Connelly, channeling that desperate spirit one last time managed to kick out, but it was all for naught. Demus had one last trick up his sleeve, a dog collar of his own. If this had come into play earlier in the match, it might have turned the tide for Mad Dog, but now he was barely able to stand, and with it, Demus, in a pique of dark irony, was able to hang Connelly with his own twisted trademark. 

There'll always be the question of what might have happened on this night if Connelly had entered healthy. Maybe the pain drove him. It absolutely allowed Demus to prey upon a vulnerability and gave him an advantage in the match. Animal pride had empowered both men throughout and Connelly was possessed by it in the post match, causing chaos and shaving his own hair. He was defeated, but it would take far more than this for him to be truly vanquished.