The Turkey Gets Roasted: Joe Hendry’s Triumph and Myers’ Turkey Day Takedown

When you step into the wrestling ring, it’s like preparing for Thanksgiving dinner: there’s a smorgasbord of violence, with a main course of pain, garnished with a side of humiliation. Last night’s show proved that no one was better suited to cook up the chaos than Joe Hendry. It was a night where muscles flexed, hearts pounded, and ego got deep-fried—the kind that made you laugh, wince, and leave you with a bit of leftover schadenfreude.

Hendry, the man who talks the talk, walks the walk, and then some. His opponent, Matt Myers, might have come to the ring dressed like a king, but by the time the final bell chimed, he was a jester with an unceremonious fate. The bout was nothing short of an all-you-can-eat buffet of brawls, suplexes, and hard-hitting moments, but Hendry’s trademark move, the Standing Ovation Chokeslam, sealed the deal like a drumstick smothered in gravy.

The Main Course: Hendry’s Signature Move

For those who don’t know the story, Hendry has been making waves with a combination of confidence, talent, and the ability to generate a crowd’s chant of “Joe Hendry!”—a chant that echoes like the best kind of halftime show at a football game. But Myers, a guy who thought he could walk into the ring with a plan that was anything but turkeyproof, found himself on the wrong side of the apron.

Hendry started off with a burst of energy that would make the Energizer Bunny look lazy. He slammed Myers with enough force to make any Thanksgiving dish feel humble. The crowd roared, and the atmosphere went electric as the match reached its boiling point. Myers tried to hit back, throwing punches that could have cracked walnuts, but Hendry was ready—dodging, countering, and finally turning the tide with his show-stopping move: the Standing Ovation Chokeslam. The arena erupted like a Macy’s Day parade, with all the balloons popping at once.

The Aftermath: The Turkey Suit Surprise

But it wasn’t just Hendry who was ready to dish out some damage. The postmatch spectacle was what made this event a holiday special worth rewatching. The crowd was still catching their breath when Rhino, the man who brings the noise and the gore, stormed in like a Black Friday shopper on the hunt for deals. The audience’s reaction was mixed: cheers for the man who could put a mean spin on any situation, and groans of anticipation for Myers’ fate. And then, the gore.

If you’ve never seen the Gore, imagine a train at full speed that’s powered by raw intensity and rage. That’s what Myers received, sending him down faster than an overeager uncle chasing the last piece of pie. But Rhino wasn’t done. The turkey costume was next—a classic wrestling humiliation act that takes the theme of Thanksgiving up a notch. With Hendry and Eric Young as willing accomplices, it was a sight that’d make even the most stoic of folks crack a smile. Myers, all but unconscious, was shoved into a fluffy, feathered outfit that screamed, “I’m not the main course; I’m the joke!”

The Final Plate: Hendry’s Statement

The image was complete: the victor, Hendry, standing tall with the swagger of a man who had the last laugh, while Myers flailed around in his turkey suit like a Thanksgiving turkey trying to find a way out of the oven. Eric Young, ever the maestro of mayhem, joined in on the gag, pointing at Myers with a smirk that said, “You didn’t just lose; you were roasted, my friend.” The entire arena burst into laughter, and in that moment, the show was elevated from a simple match to an unforgettable spectacle.

The Takeaway: More Than Just a Victory

The implications of this were clear: Hendry had proved that when he steps into the ring, it’s more than just a bout—it’s an event. And Myers? He found out the hard way that facing Hendry isn’t just a bad idea; it’s a recipe for disaster, sprinkled generously with embarrassment. The old adage “It’s not over until the fat lady sings” was more like, “It’s not over until the turkey gets stuffed,” and Myers was the one who got cooked.

This wasn’t just a victory; it was a statement. Hendry not only asserted his dominance with that signature chokeslam but also cemented his reputation as the kind of performer who understands the art of showmanship. It’s not enough to pin an opponent; you have to make a statement, leave the fans in stitches, and turn the whole scene into a Thanksgiving tableau they’ll never forget.

The Thanksgiving Tradition Continues

So, what do we take away from this bout other than the fact that Myers probably won’t be volunteering to make the Thanksgiving turkey this year? We learn that in wrestling, like in life, it’s not just about who’s got the biggest muscles or the loudest mouth. It’s about who can turn a routine match into a spectacle that makes you think, “Man, I wish I had a front-row seat.” And when that show is served up with a side of comedy and a heap of humiliation, you’ve got yourself a main course worth waiting for.

Joe Hendry didn’t just win; he roasted his competition, leaving Myers in a heap, dressed like the dinner that nobody wanted. And the crowd? They ate it up, like a Thanksgiving feast that goes on for hours. The only thing left to say? You’re welcome, wrestling fans.