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The boos rained down instantly, the Long Beach crowd letting him have it, but Sandro didn't care. He just chuckledb at this situation, tapping the face of his United States Championship as if to remind everyone exactly who was still running the show.
He took one step back. Alexa and the others instinctively followed, their eyes never leaving DX and Kofi. Sandro smirked as he added, "Nah, nah, nah… I wouldn't waste giving you ugly people such a great show here tonight in this dump Long Beach, California."
He spread his arms mockingly, tilting his head. "Oh yeah, I said it. Long Beach, you're ugly, you're pathetic, and you don't deserve to see a great show from us tonight!"
That was it. The crowd ERUPTED in hatred, booing so loudly it rattled the rafters. Chants of "You suck! You suck!" filled the arena. Fans were screaming obscenities, flipping him off, waving their signs like weapons, drowning out even Cole and Lawler's voices for a moment. The heat so nuclear it felt like the arena itself might combust but Sandro just laughed, clearly feeding off the venom.
Stephanie, still inside the ring, had seen enough. She raised her mic, her voice sharp as a blade. "Is that really it, Sandro? Or is it because deep down, you and your goons know you can't take on DX and Kofi unless you've got the element of surprise or the numbers game on your side?"
The arena exploded with cheers at that line, thousands of fans shouting in unison, "YES! YES! YES!" DX and Kofi smirked, nodding their heads, egging the crowd on.
Cole at commentary was nearly standing up. "She's right, King! She's absolutely right! Sandro and the Undisputed System have only thrived when they've had numbers or caught people off guard!"
Lawler nodded in agreement but added nervously, "Yeah, but Cole, she's gotta be careful. Don't forget, this is the same man who just threatened her daughters minutes ago. Stephanie needs to tread carefully here…"
Sandro just chuckled, his grin stretching wider. He raised the mic once more, pacing backward slowly as his faction followed him up the ramp. "Oh, Steph… Steph, Steph, Steph. You've got it all wrong. We're not afraid. We're just smart. Unlike you little incels who can't think past your next cheap pop, we know when to step back and when to bite down on our meat."
The crowd booed louder than ever, disgusted at his phrasing, but Sandro only laughed harder, clearly enjoying every ounce of heat he was drawing. He turned his gaze directly to Triple H, his voice rising with a sinister edge.
"So, Triple H… I'll see you later tonight. In the main event. I hope you bring your best. Because when it's over, I'll still be standing tall, still United States Champion, and you'll be laying flat on your back wondering why you ever stepped into the same ring as me."
With that, Sandro dropped his microphone with a loud thud, smirked one last time at the camera, and turned his back. Alexa clung to his arm, smirking alongside him, while Wade, Drew, Ryback, and Big E towered behind, following him up the stage.
The boos never stopped as the Undisputed System disappeared behind the curtain, their golden entrance lights flickering out.
Inside the ring, Stephanie finally allowed herself a sigh of relief as DX and Kofi climbed into the squared circle to stand with her. The six of them stood united, raising their arms defiantly as the crowd roared in support. Triple H pointed toward the stage, shouting at Sandro even though he was long gone, making it clear that tonight wasn't going to be business as usual.
Cole's voice was electric, filled with anticipation. "King, tonight is going to be HUGE. Triple H versus Sandro for the United States Championship, in a lumberjack match! The RAW locker room surrounding the ring, no Undisputed System allowed to interfere, this could finally be the night that Sandro gets what's coming to him!"
Lawler clapped his hands in excitement. "Oh, I hope so, Cole. I hope Triple H shuts his mouth for good and takes that United States Championship away from him. The WWE Universe deserves to see it happen!"
The show carried on, match after match, promo after promo, the energy of the crowd never waning. Every time a camera cut backstage, fans buzzed, wondering if Sandro or the Undisputed System would make another move. But they stayed quiet, for now. It was all building toward the climax of the night.
And then, finally, it was time.
Justin Roberts stood tall in the center of the ring, microphone in hand, the referee beside him. The crowd was a frenzy of excitement, fans standing, craning their necks, cameras flashing.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Roberts announced, his voice booming through the PA system, "this is your MAIN EVENT of the evening, and ITS A LUMBERJACK MATCH, scheduled for one fall… and it is for the WWE UNITED STATES CHAMPIONSHIP!"
The roar from the crowd nearly blew the roof off the arena.
One by one, the lumberjacks began pouring out from the back. Members of the RAW roster, both faces and heels, swarmed to ringside, spreading out evenly around the ring. Some were grinning, clearly looking forward to the chaos, while others looked deadly serious, eager to dish out punishment to Sandro when he inevitably tried to run.
DX filed out alongside them, Triple H's loyal brothers in arms looking fired up, the fight from earlier still burning in their eyes. Kofi Kingston bounced his way down as well, pumping up the fans with his high energy, pointing into the crowd as they chanted his name.
By the time they all settled at ringside, the atmosphere was unlike anything else. It wasn't just a match anymore. It felt like a war was about to break out inside that ring, with the entire roster acting as judge, jury, and executioner.
The fans knew it. Cole and Lawler knew it. And those at ringside, the lumberjacks themselves knew it.
At this time, Triple H's entrance music, "Time to Play the Game," hit and the fans immediately let out huge cheers. The first grinding notes of Motörhead's anthem rolled through the Long Beach arena like thunder, and the entire crowd rose to its feet as one, roaring in unison.
The camera cut across the audience, grown men in DX shirts screaming their lungs out, kids waving green glowsticks, women bouncing with excitement. The Game was here.
After the bass dropped, out came Triple H, striding through the curtain with that trademark intensity, a bottle of water clenched in his right hand. The spotlight hit him, the smoke curled around his boots, and the crowd just got louder.
He paused at the top of the stage, glaring out at the sea of humanity in front of him, and then looked straight into the hard cam, his jaw tightening with purpose. Slowly, he raised the bottle, took a long swig, and then let the water drip from his lips before tossing his head back, soaking in the reaction.
The cheers rolled down like a tidal wave. The lumberjacks at ringside, even the heels who normally wouldn't give respect, found themselves giving space as Triple H started the long walk down the ramp. He moved with that deliberate, predatory stride, every step radiating menace, every glance toward the fans fueling their frenzy.
At this time, the bell rang three times to signal the official introductions, and Justin Roberts' voice cut through the wall of noise.
"Introducing first, the challenger… representing D-Generation X… from Greenwich, Connecticut, weighing in at 255 pounds… THE GAMEEEEE… TRIPLEEEEEE HHHHHHH!"
The eruption was deafening. Fans were on their feet, fists in the air, chanting, "TRI-PLE H! TRI-PLE H!" Cole's voice nearly cracked on commentary.
"Oh my God, King! Just listen to this ovation! The Game has arrived, and business is about to pick up!"
Lawler added, "Yeah, Cole, he looks like he's ready to tear Sandro apart! I don't think I've ever seen Triple H this focused, and that says a lot."
Triple H continued his slow, menacing march, passing the lumberjacks one by one. Some of them clapped him on the shoulder in solidarity, others gave him a nod of respect, and even those who had their own grudges with him moved aside. The aisle became his personal warpath.
When he reached the apron, Triple H placed one heavy boot onto the middle step, then hauled himself up to the apron with practiced ease. He stood there, surveying the crowd like a king standing before his army. Then, with a deliberate tilt of the head, he lifted the water bottle again, took another sip, and stepped to the center of the apron.
The Game threw his head back, spraying the water into the air in a perfect mist as his arms stretched wide. The spotlight caught it, making it look like a crown of silver rain above him. The crowd roared louder still, their noise echoing off the roof. He hurled the empty bottle deep into the audience, where a dozen fans fought to catch it like it was the Holy Grail.
Sliding under the ropes, Triple H prowled around the ring like a predator testing the cage, eyes locked firmly on the ramp. He paced the canvas, jaw clenched, muscles coiled tight with anticipation.
And then…
Suddenly the guitar riffs of "Cult of Personality" blasted through the PA, and the entire atmosphere shifted in an instant. The fans who had just been in ecstasy flipped instantly to rage, the boos cascading down like acid rain. The jeers were so loud they almost drowned out the music.
From the curtain, out walked Sandro Zhang, the United States Championship slung arrogantly over his right shoulder. He didn't flinch, didn't smile, didn't even acknowledge the hatred raining down on him. He just sneered, lips curling back in contempt, as if the crowd's energy was beneath him.
He stood at the top of the stage for a moment, arms out wide, soaking in their hatred as pyro shot off behind him in a wall of fire and sparks. The heat from the explosions lit his silhouette, and when the smoke cleared, his sneer only grew wider. He pointed at the title on his shoulder, then tapped it twice with his finger before mouthing into the camera, "Mine forever."
The boos intensified, Long Beach letting him have it. Cole shouted over the din, "This man is despised everywhere he goes! Listen to these people, King,they hate him! And you know what? He loves every second of it!"
Lawler replied, almost wincing, "Yeah, but Cole, you've got to admit, he's one of the most dangerous guys in WWE today. Love him or hate him, Sandro Zhang has backed up everything he's said so far."
Justin Roberts' voice once again filled the arena as Sandro strutted down the ramp.
"And his opponent… representing the Undisputed System… from Orlando, Florida… weighing in at 220 pounds… he is the WWE United States Champion… SANDROOOOOO ZHANGGGGGG!"
The hatred reached its peak. Fans hurled insults, flipped him off, waved "Sandro Sucks" signs right in his face. Some of the lumberjacks at ringside stepped up, glaring daggers at him as he walked past. Sandro didn't blink. He sneered back, mouthing insults at them, even daring one or two to take a swing. He carried himself with utter disdain, utterly fearless.
Reaching the steps, Sandro took his time climbing, pausing halfway up to lift the United States Championship high above his head. The hard cam zoomed in on his smug face as the crowd's fury boiled. He entered the ring and immediately turned toward the hard cam again, raising the title higher, his smirk carved into his face.
Then, with zero hesitation, he turned to Triple H… and raised his middle finger right to The Game's face.
The arena gasped in unison. Cole's voice cracked with shock. "Did he just—? Did Sandro just flip off Triple H?!"
Lawler was nearly shouting. "Oh no, Cole, no! That's poking the lion right in the eye! That's one of the ballsiest, dumbest things I've ever seen!"
Triple H's face darkened, his entire body trembling with rage. He lunged forward instantly, fists clenching, but the referee was right there, straining to hold him back.
The Game barked curses, pointing at Sandro, trying to shove past the official. Meanwhile, Sandro just leaned back into his corner, smirking, his eyes glinting with sadistic delight at the chaos he'd just created. He tapped the side of his head mockingly, mouthing, "Smart. Smarter than you."
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Name: Alessandro Zhang
Age: 20 (2010)
Birthplace: Orlando, Florida, USA
Brand: WWE - RAW
Wrestling Style: Mixed Of All Styles
Faction: The Undisputed System
Championships History: 1x FCW Tag Team Champions, 1x FCW Florida Heavyweight Champion, 1x TNA World Heavyweight Champion, 1x TNA X Division Champion, & 1x WWE United States Champion
Other Achievements: 1x Andre the Giant Memorial Battle Royale Winner
Wrestlemania Record: 1 - 0