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Drako caught Three's arm and pulled him close for the triangle choke hold. Three's skin was slick, and it was hard to maintain a grip on him. Drako managed to cinch in the hold however, and Three was trapped in the hold. He wasn't struggling the way most people would. Three seemed to be trying to adjust his stance. Unable to breath he was on a time limit, and flailing would only run that limit out. His best hope was that he was still standing. Getting his feet under him, Three would try to stand back up pulling Drako with him. If the smaller man refused to relinquish his hold, Three would run at the ropes, hoping to use them to catch him while the sudden stop would peel Drako off like flicking a sticky bugger.

Unable to shake Drako off of him, Three intended to fling the both of them over the ropes. He wasn't quite able to muscle Drako's body over the top rope, and faltered in the attempt. He shrugged hard trying to shake Drako loose, but his motions were sluggish. He wobbled for a moment before collapsing next to the ropes. It seemed like Drako had Three exactly where he wanted the demon. Without rope breaks Three had no avenue to end the hold. But now that he was close enough to the ropes to reach, a pair of hands grabbed him by the ankles, and The Number Three pulled The Number Three out of the ring.

The copies of Three pooled their strength to pull both Three, and Drako out of the ring. Despite the half dozen laying out on the floor by the ramp, there were another half dozen still on their feet. If Drako wanted to maintain his hold on Three while they dragged the pair out, he would just be putting himself back in the horde of Three's less than gentle grip.

As soon as Three and Drako were removed from the ring, the group would set upon them and start stomping away. The problem with the duplication magic he worked, each copy of Three wanted to be the Three in the ring as badly as the others. They were more than happy to turn on themselves if it meant they would get to step up and assume the mantle. The assault was drastic and indiscriminate. Three's were trying to stomp Three and Drako into senselessness equally.

Three was stunned. He was already dangerously close to hypoxia, but he was then slammed to the floor as well, while also having a half grown man clenching his throat closed. By the time his own duplicates started wailing on him he was close to fading. Reprieve came when Drako was forced to release him in order to cover himself up. He wanted to pick himself back up and take his place at the ring, but his lumberjacks weren't done beating on him yet.

The lumberjacks were hooting and whooping as they took turns stomping away. Only relenting when they finally took it upon themselves to gather Drako up and chuck him back into the ring, to again find The Number Three waiting with his arms crossed. "Don't you get it yet? You can't beat me. You can't beat us all."

Three scowled, he didn't like being ignored. He was here, back in the ring, to put on a spectacle. It angered him to see Drako, apparently already falling apart, slow climbing up the ropes. "Here let's give you a hand." He chided as he approached behind Drako. He went to grab the smaller man around his waist to try and yank him backwards into the air with heavy German suplex. He would try to maintain the hold if it connected.

The sweet smack of impact rattled the entire ring as Drako was driven into the mat. A loud chorus of "1!" rang out from those in the crowd who remembered the heights of Three's career. They knew what was supposed to be coming. Three was going to try and pull Drako up again only to yank him up onto a second German suplex!

"2!"

The audience chanted with the second count out. They were roaring up towards another as Three would try to maintain his grip on Drako's waist. It was harder to hoist Drako up now that he'd become a sack of scrambled meat. But once he stood, Three would throw his weight back looking to launch Drako backwards with a final German release suplex meant to send Drako over the ropes to the eager hands of his doppelgangers.

The throng of Threes were reaching out to catch Drako as he was flung over the top ropes. This saved him from the terrible impact of hitting the thinly padded cement floor; but it also put him directly in the hands of his enemy. They caught him only to hold him upright as one by one the demons used his torso like a weighted punching bag.

Three stood back up in the ring to watch his minions abuse his opponent for him, satisfied to leave him to their not so tender mercy. Knowing that only once they grew bored with hitting him would they return Drako to the ring.