Post by dsb on Dec 19, 2018 21:24:11 GMT
The announcer steps into the ring as the bell sounds three times. “Ladies and gentlemen!” he begins, “The following contest is scheduled for one fall with a twenty minute time limit!” and with that, the lights dim. Then the Arena is bathed in dazzling blue and white lights as Brandon Urie’s unmistakable voice signals the beginning of Panic! at the Disco’s “Emperor’s New Clothes”.
THE EMPEROR’S NEW CLOTHES: www.youtube.com/watch?v=XbDyv9uni50
Finders keepers, losers weepers
Welcome to the end of eras
Ice has melted back to life
Done my time and served my sentence
Dress me up and watch me die
MARVELA MARCILLE:
The house lights come up as Marvela Marcille struts onto the stage. While her music has apparently changed, the lightweight’s ring attire has not; A bright crimson, single shoulder strap sports bra with a golden and yellow explosion graphic embezzled at its centre. She also wears a pair of crimson, curve hugging shorts that reach down to mid thigh along with calf high boots, elbow/knee pads and gloves the same shade, all trimmed in white. She lingers at the top of the entrance ramp, soaking up the boos of the crowd, who have finally realized whose music this is. As she stands there she sings along with the chorus of the song.
I’m taking back the crown,
I’m all dressed up and naked
I see what’s mine and take it
OH YEAH...The crown, so close I can taste it
I see what’s mine and take it
OH YEAH
With that last line, the Marvelous One arches her back, striking a pose as pyro goes off behind her. With that bombast out of the way, Marvela marches down to the ring, looking out at all the pathetic losers in the crowd, rolling her eyes at their toothless attempts to drown her in vitriol. Among the masses, she spies a sign, the same one that somehow shows up at all of her matches:
NOT “OUR” PRINCESS
She sneers at the sight, but pays it no further mind as she reaches the foot of the entrance ramp. Turning her back to the ring, she points her finger at the mindless masses, followed with a waggle of said finger, as she again sings along with a pair of lines from the song:
Heroes always get remembered, but you know legends never die
And if you don’t know, now you know
With that, she spins on her heels and gives her backside a firm SMACK, to let the audience know exactly what she thinks of them, before grasping the middle rope and climbing up onto the ring apron.
“Introducing first, making her current residence in Cannes in the French Riviera...She stands five feet five inches tall, and weighs in tonight at one hundred twenty pounds...She is the self-proclaimed “Queen of Wrestling”...This is “MARVELOUS” MARVELA MARCILLE!!!”
She climbs in between the ropes and does a lap around the ring, arms outstretched in a demonstrative “V”. Having done all that, she settles into a corner to wait for her opponent.
“New music, huh, Marvela?” Al Carpenter makes conversation as he approaches her for the pre-match inspection.
“New attitude, might as well change the music too.” the Prodigal Daughter explains as the zebra pats her down, “Why be the “People’s Princess” when I can be the Queen I was always meant to be? Besides,” she is quick to add, “these idiots never deserved or even appreciated me as their Princess, anyway.” Al nods and gives an acknowledgement of her words by way of a short “Mm.”
“Well, for your sake,” Al advises as he finishes up the inspection, “I hope part of this new attitude of yours includes respect for your opponent’s abilities. Kanako Akiyama’s changed since you two last fought, evolved. I don’t think your old tricks will work against her this time.
Marvela snorts in derision at the referee’s advice. “Whatever! I beat that overrated punk the last time we faced each other, and I’ll beat her again tonight.”
“Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Al shrugs as he returns to his spot beside the ring announcer, as they all wait for the Japanese fighter to make her entrance.
And then the lights go out.
The sound of air raid sirens fill the Arena as a pair of red searchlights scan the crowd, bringing the FAWNatics to their feet, roaring with applause. Finally, the searchlights halt their search at the top of the entrance ramp, only to find no-one there. On the FAWNTron, the Japanese kanji spelling out Kanako Akiyama’s name fades in, looking as if it were painted in blood. The Japanese characters then morph into English, then fade out to show the kabuki mask Kanako had worn for her match with Lydia Lethbridge at FAWNMania. After a moment, a flash of light, and now the mask appears to have small cracks running along the sides of it. The air raid sirens die down, then, after a pregnant pause, the sound of a guitar chord, sounding almost like an engine revving up, fills the Arena speakers, followed immediately by a driving heavy metal riff, and the stage fills with a dry ice-induced fog.
DOOMSDAY JESUS: www.youtube.com/watch?v=g8KIdzgV83Y
Kill your past, and all you thought you knew
Blacked out hatred running through and through
Horsemen rollin’, tomorrow’s fading fast
Make damn sure that nothing’s gonna last
As Zakk Wylde’s primal scream hits, Kanako Akiyama storms out through the fog.
KANAKO AKIYAMA:
“And her opponent, originally from Los Angeles, California...She stands five feet, two inches tall and weighs in tonight at one hundred fourteen pounds...She is the Modern Day Ronin...This is KANAKO AKIYAMA!!!”
The cheers from the FAWN Faithful are deafening as Kanako marches to the ring with purpose. She is wearing the same kabuki mask and kimono that she wore for her entrance at FAWNMania. Marvela rolls her eyes, looking as bored as can be as Kanako steps through the ring ropes and heads to the corner opposite her opponent. As Al comes over to frisk her, she takes off her kimono, revealing the same outfit of a black with purple trim halter top with matching boy cut shorts as she wore at FAWNMania as well, marking the first time she wore the same outfit twice in a row. Fishnet stockings and her signature black fingerless mma-style gloves and red wrestling shoes complete the outfit. She then removes her mask, flinging it into the crowd like a frisbee. Once the mask is off, we see that Kanako is wearing face paint to match the kabuki mask, only there are little “cracks”, just like in the one seen on the FAWNTron.
Marvela laughs at Kanako, shaking her head, not bothering to hide her disdain for the diminutive Japanese fighter. “A little late to the party, aren’t you, honey?” she shouts across the ring to her opponent, “Halloween was last month! Hahaha!!!” Al grimaces as he steps away from Kanako, pre-match inspection completed, and not wanting to get in the Tokyo Tiger’s way. For her part, she only stares at the Marvelous One in stony silence, head slightly tilted curiously. Al signals for the timekeeper to ring the bell to start the match and Kanako walks out to the center, while Marvela begins to circle. Noticing that her foe is simply moving to the center of the ring, though, she stops and meets her there, standing nose to nose with her.
“Listen here, you little twerp!” Marvela barks, sticking a finger in Kanako’s face, “If you think you’re intimidating me with this little spooky girl act of yours, you’ve got another - WaiIIIIIAAAAHHHH!!!”
Her threats are cut short in an instant by Kanako snatching her finger out of the air and pulling it back as far as she could. The newly self-proclaimed Queen of Wrestling screams in shocked agony and shakes out her digits before snarling at her aggressor and attempting to retaliate with a stinging bitchslap. Unfortunately for her, the Modern Day Ronin catches her hand and grabs her fingers, two in each hand. Kanako lets the anticipation rise for a moment, while Marvela shakes her head emphatically, pleading with her to not do it. Such pleas fall on deaf ears as Kanako SNAPS the fingers in opposite directions!
“AAAGGH!! Fucking bitch...Are you crazy?!!” the Marvelous One barked at her aggressor as she cradled her hurt hand. She then yelps in protest as Kanako again grabs her wrist and pulls her back with her. Lying on her back, the Tokyo Tiger threads Marvela’s arm through her legs as she wraps said legs around her head, locking in a Triangle Choke.
TRIANGLE CHOKE: www.youtube.com/watch?v=rUgzkNGGCGI
Marvela thrashes and flails and wails in agony as Kanako tightens the noose, squeezing with everything she has. To further add injury to injury, she takes each of Marvela’s fingers, one after another, and bends them each back as far as they’ll go. Al is quick to lean in and check to see if Marvela wants to throw in the towel.
“What do you say, Marcille? Do you wanna submit?” The official’s question earns him a middle finger from the struggling Frenchwoman, leading Al to simply shrug and back off. Kanako continued working the triangle, coming close to actually choking Marcille out before she gets a surge of energy and lunges forward, gripping the bottom rope with her free hand. After milking the choke hold for a long four count, Kanako finally releases the Prodigal Daughter and clambers to her feet, leaving Marvela to lie there on all fours, coughing and wheezing. But Kanako has learned from her first encounter with the woman that used to call herself the “Original People’s Princess”. While Marvela Marcille is as skilled as many other wrestlers in FAWN, possibly even more skilled than most, her greatest commodity is time. Time to misdirect, time to pull her cheap, underhanded tricks to get an ill-gotten upper hand. Not this time. Before Marcille can get her bearings, Akiyama drags her up to her feet by the hair and backs her into the ropes before shooting her across the ring with an Irish whip. Marvela ducks the ensuing clothesline attempt, but on the rebound she is caught completely off guard by Kanako’s follow-up, the Pele-kick-esque flipping knee strike she calls Turning Suicide.
TURNING SUICIDE (except it’s a knee strike, instead of a kick): www.youtube.com/watch?v=CY7ApNoOerg
The Marvelous One flops to the mat, and Kanako is quick to make the cover.
ONE!
TWO!!
Marvela’s left arm shoots off the mat after a solid two count. The Tokyo Tiger rolls off of her and quickly gets to her feet, crouched and ready to strike. Slowly, Marvela follows suit, struggling to clamber to her feet on wobbly legs. Once she finally finds her legs, she stumbles into a bone rattling scoop slam from the Modern Day Ronin, who follows it up by ascending to the top rope in a single springboard leap. After taking a moment to steady herself, she launches herself at her opponent with the Tumbleweed flipping guillotine legdrop.
TUMBLEWEED: www.youtube.com/watch?v=S3rBDQaTSyc
Unfortunately for Kanako, Marvela rolls out of harm’s way at the last moment, causing the Modern Day Ronin to crash and burn upon impact. Kanako’s face paint does little to hide her grimace, as her tailbone bears the brunt of the hard impact, although she bears that particular pain in silence.
Meanwhile, the Marvelous One slowly gets to her feet, shaking the cobwebs loose and looking at the smaller girl incredulously. Who the hell does this bitch think she is? she thinks as she plots her retaliation. And retaliation does indeed come in the form of a stiff penalty kick between Kanako’s shoulder blades that very well could earn her a spot on the French national team under other circumstances, followed by a pair of clubbing forearms to the base of the Japanese girl’s skull. “Come on, you little brat! GET UP!!” she barks at Kanako as she pulls her to her feet by her hair and backs her into the nearest corner. She then proceeds to light the Tokyo Tiger’s chest up with a pair of vicious knife-edge chops, that cause Kanako to wince and clutch at her chest, but otherwise, she bites her tongue. Marvela then launches her into the opposite corner with a hard Irish whip, only to have Marcille follow after her by a few steps and level her with a jarring clothesline that would’ve taken the Japanese girl completely off her feet, were it not for Marvela’s own body holding her up, keeping her sandwiched between her foe and the turnbuckles. Marvela delivers another pair of chops, the second of which she decides to punctuate by draaaaaaaging her nails across Kanako’s reddened chest, getting dangerously close to the tender flesh under her top, trying to pull a scream from her lips that doesn’t come.
Failing that, and before Al can get to five, the Marvelous One delivers another Irish whip into the opposite corner, this one thrown with such force that she drops to one knee on the follow-through. That force is transferred to Kanako, as she hits the corner with such force and velocity that she doesn’t even have time to turn into the impact, hitting the turnbuckles chest-first at full force. Kanako flops hard onto her back, rolling to her side and kicking her legs, her face a mask (no pun intended) of agony, albeit a silent one. When even that gets no vocal reaction from the Modern Day Ronin, Marvela walks over to her, playing to the crowd to a chorus of boos as she does so, growling, “What, did you sever your vocal chords or something, Akiyama?” she grabs an arm and drags her to the center of the ring. “Mark my words, I will hear you scream before I’m done with you, little girl!” And with that, she grabs Kanako’s leg and twists it around her own, pulling the other leg straight and dropping down, back to the mat in a textbook figure four leg lock.
FIGURE FOUR LEG LOCK: www.youtube.com/watch?v=qKCBB3KuOnQ
Kanako thrashes about, her face showing every ounce of pain she’s in. However, even now, in this most dire of predicaments, Kanako still refuses to give Marvela the satisfaction of crying out in pain. Marvela sneers at her opponent as she pours on the punishment, completely galled at Kanako’s stubbornness. At least, that’s what she’s outwardly projecting. Inwardly, the silent treatment has Marvela rattled as much, if not more, as the brutal manner in which Kanako mangled her hand to start the match. That state of unnerving becomes desperation as Marvela goes into a bridge to increase the pressure on Kanako’s legs.
“ASK HER!!” She barks at Al, who just shakes his head as he nonetheless gets into position to do just that.
“Do you not pay attention to anything?” Al asks, “She’s not going to submit, I can tell you that for free.”
“Just shut up and do your damn job!” “Marvela commands, to which Al simply shrugs.
“Alright,” he says with a sigh, “What do you say, Kanako, do you submit?” he asks halfheartedly, to which Kanako answers with an emphatic headshake. “See? What’d I tell you?” Al says as he gets back up.
In response, Marvela shoots Al a dirty look, and turns her gaze back to the writhing Akiyama. “What’s with the silent treatment, huh?” she taunts her as Kanako struggles to pull them to the ropes. “You were chatty enough with that Lethbridge twat. What, do I not rate as worthy for all that witty banter? The one-liners? ANSWER ME!! SPEAK!!” she demands, causing the Japanese girl to stop struggling. She slowly props herself up to look across at Marvela, rather than looking up at her, her eyes smoldering with rage. The Frenchwoman returns the belligerent gaze, angered further by her continued silence. She grabs a tight handful of Kanako’s hair and rears back to deliver a stinging bitchslap. Most, simply because of the obvious telegraph of it, expect the Modern Day Ronin to block the attempt. Which is why the crowd collectively “OOOH!!”s when Akiyama does no such thing, defiantly accepting the attack, never taking her eyes off of Marvela’s. The Marvelous One is likewise taken aback as Kanako continues to simply stare at her with remarkable intensity, a thin trickle of blood rolling down her chin from her lip. A sneer curls Marvela’s lip and, emboldened, she pulls back for another slap. This one, Kanako does not let pass, as before Marcille can let her palm fly, she surges forward, levelling her with a devastating headbutt to her jaw that both frees Kanako from the painful hold and puts Marcille on her back, clutching her jaw, checking for blood.
Kanako, meanwhile, makes it to all fours when her gaze falls upon the Prodigal Daughter, and it’s like a switch is flipped inside the Tokyo Tiger. In a flash, she’s on top of her foe, levelling Marvela with brutal knee strikes to her head, ribs and tummy. The Marvelous One offers no resistance, still dazed as she is from the headbutt, grunting and groaning with each thump of the Japanese girl’s knee. She then hauls Marcille up to her feet roughly by the hair and backs her into the nearest corner. A pair of deep gut punches keeps the French girl pliant as she Irish whips her into the opposite corner. Marvela’s body shudders on impact, only to be followed shortly thereafter by a cartwheel backflip back elbow by the Modern Day Ronin.
CARTWHEEL BACKFLIP BACK ELBOW: www.youtube.com/watch?v=cFIVaHHyiCs
Kanako quickly follows up, Irish whipping Marvela back to the original corner, preparing to deliver another cartwheel backflip back elbow. Unfortuntely, she comes up empty, as Marvela barely manages to dodge the acrobatic maneuver, sending Kanako crashing back first into the turnbuckle. On unsteady legs, Marvela wades in and nails Kanako with a straight right hand and a knife-edge chop before Irish whipping Kanako into the opposite corner. This time, however, it’s Kanako that reverses the maneuver, and it’s at this point that Al finds himself uncharacteristically out of position and directly in Marvela’s path. Having no time to react, the two collide and crash to the mat. Without a moment’s hesitation, the Modern Day Ronin goes into a crouch and waits for the self-proclaimed Queen of Wrestling to get to her feet. When she does, Kanako lunges forward with a devastating superkick!
SUPERKICK: www.youtube.com/watch?v=dPbtOoUQgK8
The Marvelous One just manages to dodge the attack, and counters with a kick to the gut, doubling the Tokyo Tiger over. Quickly thrusting her head between her thighs and hooks both of her arms, Marvela flips Kanako over, bringing her up to her head’s level, then sending her crashing down to the mat hard with her Try Harder finisher!
TRY HARDER: www.youtube.com/watch?v=XOrbdHqOkyY
When no three count comes, Marcille looks over to find Al still crumpled in a heap following their collision. Slowly, as comprehension sets in, a wide grin crosses the Frenchwoman’s face. “Fucking psycho…” she grunts as she shoves Kanako’s limp body aside, “...I’ve got something for you.” She then slides out of the ring and makes a beeline for the timekeeper’s table. Having the good sense to get out of her way, the timekeeper scrambles for the relative safety of the announce table. Marcille grabs the steel chair he had just been sitting in, folds it up, and slides it into the ring, followed by Marvela herself. The crowd groans as they see what’s coming. Marvela Marcille definitely lives by Jesse Ventura’s old mantra: Win if you can, lose if you must, but always cheat! She stands by, almost using the chair as a crutch as she waits for Kanako to get to her feet, which she does just ahead of Al. Seeing history repeating itself, the FAWNatics try to warn Kanako of what’s coming, as Marvela raises the chair high and...whacks it against the mat with a loud BANG! She then tosses the chair to Kanako, who catches it out of reflex, then drops like a stone to the mat. Without missing a beat, Kanako calmly opens the chair up, sets her own head inside of it, and likewise lays herself out on the mat.
youtu.be/Hzweos2lnrw?t=198
Hearing the laughter of the crowd, Marvela opens her eyes and peeks to see Kanako sprawled out on the mat, and Al seeing the scene before him, having just cleared out the cobwebs. She looks on in horror, seeing her ruse backfire on her, as Al points an accusatory finger at her.
“You!!” He bellows as Marvela scrambles to her feet, “Did you really think you were gonna get away with this again?!”
“No, no!” Marvela shakes her head emphatically, pleading her case, “I didn’t hit her with the chair! Honest!” She decides her only way out of a disqualification is to tell the truth, “I was just trying to trick you into thinking she hit me! You have to believe me!”
“Don’t give me that!” Al barks back, “I’ve got half a mind to disqualify you just on princip - “ Just then, Kanako - having pulled the chair off her head - comes up behind Marvela and rolls her up into a small package. Al quickly drops to the mat and counts.
ONE!
TWO!!
THREE!!!
The bell sounds as Kanako rolls off of Marvela and she sits up, a look of incredulity on her face. She shakes her head emphatically, shouting “NO!!” over and over again at the top of her lungs as the call comes in over the PA
“Ladies and gentlemen...Your winner of this match, via pinfall...KANAKO AKIYAMA!!!”
The roar of the crowd drowns out Marvela’s protestations, and she quickly enters into full meltdown mode, throwing herself back onto the mat, kicking and pounding the canvas as she wails in a rage. She then sees Al standing over her, a look of confusion on his face. It’s not often you see a grown-ass adult throw a full blown temper tantrum. Practically frothing at the mouth, Marvela springs to her feet and gets right into Al’s face, grabbing him by the collar.
“YOU!!” she roars at him, “THIS IS YOUR FAULT!! YOU CONSPIRED WITH THAT LITTLE BRAT AGAINST ME FROM THE START!! I’LL HAVE YOUR JOB FOR THIS INDIGNITY, CARPENTER!! DON’T YOU KNOW WHO I AM??!!”
“Oh…” a low voice behind Marcille - a voice that hasn’t been heard all match - speaks up, “I know exactly who you are.” Marvela, the sound of Kanako’s deadly serious voice snapping her out of her rage-induced haze, gulps and slowly turns around to face her. “You’re the one that set me on this path in the first place,” she continues, chair in hand, “I don’t think I ever properly thanked you for that.”
“Oh, god.” Marvela whimpers as Kanako raises the chair, a murderous look in her eyes.
“Thanks for giving me a weapon.” Kanako growls. And with that, she jabs Marvela in the ribs with the chair, doubling the Marvelous One over, then bringing the chair crashing across her back with the unmistakable CRASH! of metal to flesh, bringing the Frenchwoman down to the mat, stomach down. Kanako then proceeds to wear that steel chair out, bringing it down across Marvela’s back over and over again like a hammer. Marvela screams and thrashes with each crack of the chair, unable to do anything but take the punishment. After five whacks of the chair, Kanako finally stops and plants her foot on Marvela’s right hand - the hand that Kanako spent the opening moments of this match mangling.
“No…” Marvela whines, Kanako’s intent being obvious, “...No, no, no, no…” Without another word, Kanako stomps Marvela’s paw and quickly brings the chair down one more time on the hand before she could move it out of the way. Marvela shrieks and cradles her hand as Al calls for medical assistance from the back. “MY HAND!!” Marvela finally screams at Kanako as she climbs out of the ring, “YOU FUCKING BITCH, YOU BROKE MY HAND!!!” As it would turn out, she didn’t, but she didn’t know that at the time. Kanako paid the Marvelous One no mind as she walked up the entrance ramp to stunned silence, the assembled masses wondering just what the hell Lydia Lethbridge unleashed upon FAWN when she woke up...whatever this was.
THE EMPEROR’S NEW CLOTHES: www.youtube.com/watch?v=XbDyv9uni50
Finders keepers, losers weepers
Welcome to the end of eras
Ice has melted back to life
Done my time and served my sentence
Dress me up and watch me die
MARVELA MARCILLE:
The house lights come up as Marvela Marcille struts onto the stage. While her music has apparently changed, the lightweight’s ring attire has not; A bright crimson, single shoulder strap sports bra with a golden and yellow explosion graphic embezzled at its centre. She also wears a pair of crimson, curve hugging shorts that reach down to mid thigh along with calf high boots, elbow/knee pads and gloves the same shade, all trimmed in white. She lingers at the top of the entrance ramp, soaking up the boos of the crowd, who have finally realized whose music this is. As she stands there she sings along with the chorus of the song.
I’m taking back the crown,
I’m all dressed up and naked
I see what’s mine and take it
OH YEAH...The crown, so close I can taste it
I see what’s mine and take it
OH YEAH
With that last line, the Marvelous One arches her back, striking a pose as pyro goes off behind her. With that bombast out of the way, Marvela marches down to the ring, looking out at all the pathetic losers in the crowd, rolling her eyes at their toothless attempts to drown her in vitriol. Among the masses, she spies a sign, the same one that somehow shows up at all of her matches:
NOT “OUR” PRINCESS
She sneers at the sight, but pays it no further mind as she reaches the foot of the entrance ramp. Turning her back to the ring, she points her finger at the mindless masses, followed with a waggle of said finger, as she again sings along with a pair of lines from the song:
Heroes always get remembered, but you know legends never die
And if you don’t know, now you know
With that, she spins on her heels and gives her backside a firm SMACK, to let the audience know exactly what she thinks of them, before grasping the middle rope and climbing up onto the ring apron.
“Introducing first, making her current residence in Cannes in the French Riviera...She stands five feet five inches tall, and weighs in tonight at one hundred twenty pounds...She is the self-proclaimed “Queen of Wrestling”...This is “MARVELOUS” MARVELA MARCILLE!!!”
She climbs in between the ropes and does a lap around the ring, arms outstretched in a demonstrative “V”. Having done all that, she settles into a corner to wait for her opponent.
“New music, huh, Marvela?” Al Carpenter makes conversation as he approaches her for the pre-match inspection.
“New attitude, might as well change the music too.” the Prodigal Daughter explains as the zebra pats her down, “Why be the “People’s Princess” when I can be the Queen I was always meant to be? Besides,” she is quick to add, “these idiots never deserved or even appreciated me as their Princess, anyway.” Al nods and gives an acknowledgement of her words by way of a short “Mm.”
“Well, for your sake,” Al advises as he finishes up the inspection, “I hope part of this new attitude of yours includes respect for your opponent’s abilities. Kanako Akiyama’s changed since you two last fought, evolved. I don’t think your old tricks will work against her this time.
Marvela snorts in derision at the referee’s advice. “Whatever! I beat that overrated punk the last time we faced each other, and I’ll beat her again tonight.”
“Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Al shrugs as he returns to his spot beside the ring announcer, as they all wait for the Japanese fighter to make her entrance.
And then the lights go out.
The sound of air raid sirens fill the Arena as a pair of red searchlights scan the crowd, bringing the FAWNatics to their feet, roaring with applause. Finally, the searchlights halt their search at the top of the entrance ramp, only to find no-one there. On the FAWNTron, the Japanese kanji spelling out Kanako Akiyama’s name fades in, looking as if it were painted in blood. The Japanese characters then morph into English, then fade out to show the kabuki mask Kanako had worn for her match with Lydia Lethbridge at FAWNMania. After a moment, a flash of light, and now the mask appears to have small cracks running along the sides of it. The air raid sirens die down, then, after a pregnant pause, the sound of a guitar chord, sounding almost like an engine revving up, fills the Arena speakers, followed immediately by a driving heavy metal riff, and the stage fills with a dry ice-induced fog.
DOOMSDAY JESUS: www.youtube.com/watch?v=g8KIdzgV83Y
Kill your past, and all you thought you knew
Blacked out hatred running through and through
Horsemen rollin’, tomorrow’s fading fast
Make damn sure that nothing’s gonna last
As Zakk Wylde’s primal scream hits, Kanako Akiyama storms out through the fog.
KANAKO AKIYAMA:
“And her opponent, originally from Los Angeles, California...She stands five feet, two inches tall and weighs in tonight at one hundred fourteen pounds...She is the Modern Day Ronin...This is KANAKO AKIYAMA!!!”
The cheers from the FAWN Faithful are deafening as Kanako marches to the ring with purpose. She is wearing the same kabuki mask and kimono that she wore for her entrance at FAWNMania. Marvela rolls her eyes, looking as bored as can be as Kanako steps through the ring ropes and heads to the corner opposite her opponent. As Al comes over to frisk her, she takes off her kimono, revealing the same outfit of a black with purple trim halter top with matching boy cut shorts as she wore at FAWNMania as well, marking the first time she wore the same outfit twice in a row. Fishnet stockings and her signature black fingerless mma-style gloves and red wrestling shoes complete the outfit. She then removes her mask, flinging it into the crowd like a frisbee. Once the mask is off, we see that Kanako is wearing face paint to match the kabuki mask, only there are little “cracks”, just like in the one seen on the FAWNTron.
Marvela laughs at Kanako, shaking her head, not bothering to hide her disdain for the diminutive Japanese fighter. “A little late to the party, aren’t you, honey?” she shouts across the ring to her opponent, “Halloween was last month! Hahaha!!!” Al grimaces as he steps away from Kanako, pre-match inspection completed, and not wanting to get in the Tokyo Tiger’s way. For her part, she only stares at the Marvelous One in stony silence, head slightly tilted curiously. Al signals for the timekeeper to ring the bell to start the match and Kanako walks out to the center, while Marvela begins to circle. Noticing that her foe is simply moving to the center of the ring, though, she stops and meets her there, standing nose to nose with her.
“Listen here, you little twerp!” Marvela barks, sticking a finger in Kanako’s face, “If you think you’re intimidating me with this little spooky girl act of yours, you’ve got another - WaiIIIIIAAAAHHHH!!!”
Her threats are cut short in an instant by Kanako snatching her finger out of the air and pulling it back as far as she could. The newly self-proclaimed Queen of Wrestling screams in shocked agony and shakes out her digits before snarling at her aggressor and attempting to retaliate with a stinging bitchslap. Unfortunately for her, the Modern Day Ronin catches her hand and grabs her fingers, two in each hand. Kanako lets the anticipation rise for a moment, while Marvela shakes her head emphatically, pleading with her to not do it. Such pleas fall on deaf ears as Kanako SNAPS the fingers in opposite directions!
“AAAGGH!! Fucking bitch...Are you crazy?!!” the Marvelous One barked at her aggressor as she cradled her hurt hand. She then yelps in protest as Kanako again grabs her wrist and pulls her back with her. Lying on her back, the Tokyo Tiger threads Marvela’s arm through her legs as she wraps said legs around her head, locking in a Triangle Choke.
TRIANGLE CHOKE: www.youtube.com/watch?v=rUgzkNGGCGI
Marvela thrashes and flails and wails in agony as Kanako tightens the noose, squeezing with everything she has. To further add injury to injury, she takes each of Marvela’s fingers, one after another, and bends them each back as far as they’ll go. Al is quick to lean in and check to see if Marvela wants to throw in the towel.
“What do you say, Marcille? Do you wanna submit?” The official’s question earns him a middle finger from the struggling Frenchwoman, leading Al to simply shrug and back off. Kanako continued working the triangle, coming close to actually choking Marcille out before she gets a surge of energy and lunges forward, gripping the bottom rope with her free hand. After milking the choke hold for a long four count, Kanako finally releases the Prodigal Daughter and clambers to her feet, leaving Marvela to lie there on all fours, coughing and wheezing. But Kanako has learned from her first encounter with the woman that used to call herself the “Original People’s Princess”. While Marvela Marcille is as skilled as many other wrestlers in FAWN, possibly even more skilled than most, her greatest commodity is time. Time to misdirect, time to pull her cheap, underhanded tricks to get an ill-gotten upper hand. Not this time. Before Marcille can get her bearings, Akiyama drags her up to her feet by the hair and backs her into the ropes before shooting her across the ring with an Irish whip. Marvela ducks the ensuing clothesline attempt, but on the rebound she is caught completely off guard by Kanako’s follow-up, the Pele-kick-esque flipping knee strike she calls Turning Suicide.
TURNING SUICIDE (except it’s a knee strike, instead of a kick): www.youtube.com/watch?v=CY7ApNoOerg
The Marvelous One flops to the mat, and Kanako is quick to make the cover.
ONE!
TWO!!
Marvela’s left arm shoots off the mat after a solid two count. The Tokyo Tiger rolls off of her and quickly gets to her feet, crouched and ready to strike. Slowly, Marvela follows suit, struggling to clamber to her feet on wobbly legs. Once she finally finds her legs, she stumbles into a bone rattling scoop slam from the Modern Day Ronin, who follows it up by ascending to the top rope in a single springboard leap. After taking a moment to steady herself, she launches herself at her opponent with the Tumbleweed flipping guillotine legdrop.
TUMBLEWEED: www.youtube.com/watch?v=S3rBDQaTSyc
Unfortunately for Kanako, Marvela rolls out of harm’s way at the last moment, causing the Modern Day Ronin to crash and burn upon impact. Kanako’s face paint does little to hide her grimace, as her tailbone bears the brunt of the hard impact, although she bears that particular pain in silence.
Meanwhile, the Marvelous One slowly gets to her feet, shaking the cobwebs loose and looking at the smaller girl incredulously. Who the hell does this bitch think she is? she thinks as she plots her retaliation. And retaliation does indeed come in the form of a stiff penalty kick between Kanako’s shoulder blades that very well could earn her a spot on the French national team under other circumstances, followed by a pair of clubbing forearms to the base of the Japanese girl’s skull. “Come on, you little brat! GET UP!!” she barks at Kanako as she pulls her to her feet by her hair and backs her into the nearest corner. She then proceeds to light the Tokyo Tiger’s chest up with a pair of vicious knife-edge chops, that cause Kanako to wince and clutch at her chest, but otherwise, she bites her tongue. Marvela then launches her into the opposite corner with a hard Irish whip, only to have Marcille follow after her by a few steps and level her with a jarring clothesline that would’ve taken the Japanese girl completely off her feet, were it not for Marvela’s own body holding her up, keeping her sandwiched between her foe and the turnbuckles. Marvela delivers another pair of chops, the second of which she decides to punctuate by draaaaaaaging her nails across Kanako’s reddened chest, getting dangerously close to the tender flesh under her top, trying to pull a scream from her lips that doesn’t come.
Failing that, and before Al can get to five, the Marvelous One delivers another Irish whip into the opposite corner, this one thrown with such force that she drops to one knee on the follow-through. That force is transferred to Kanako, as she hits the corner with such force and velocity that she doesn’t even have time to turn into the impact, hitting the turnbuckles chest-first at full force. Kanako flops hard onto her back, rolling to her side and kicking her legs, her face a mask (no pun intended) of agony, albeit a silent one. When even that gets no vocal reaction from the Modern Day Ronin, Marvela walks over to her, playing to the crowd to a chorus of boos as she does so, growling, “What, did you sever your vocal chords or something, Akiyama?” she grabs an arm and drags her to the center of the ring. “Mark my words, I will hear you scream before I’m done with you, little girl!” And with that, she grabs Kanako’s leg and twists it around her own, pulling the other leg straight and dropping down, back to the mat in a textbook figure four leg lock.
FIGURE FOUR LEG LOCK: www.youtube.com/watch?v=qKCBB3KuOnQ
Kanako thrashes about, her face showing every ounce of pain she’s in. However, even now, in this most dire of predicaments, Kanako still refuses to give Marvela the satisfaction of crying out in pain. Marvela sneers at her opponent as she pours on the punishment, completely galled at Kanako’s stubbornness. At least, that’s what she’s outwardly projecting. Inwardly, the silent treatment has Marvela rattled as much, if not more, as the brutal manner in which Kanako mangled her hand to start the match. That state of unnerving becomes desperation as Marvela goes into a bridge to increase the pressure on Kanako’s legs.
“ASK HER!!” She barks at Al, who just shakes his head as he nonetheless gets into position to do just that.
“Do you not pay attention to anything?” Al asks, “She’s not going to submit, I can tell you that for free.”
“Just shut up and do your damn job!” “Marvela commands, to which Al simply shrugs.
“Alright,” he says with a sigh, “What do you say, Kanako, do you submit?” he asks halfheartedly, to which Kanako answers with an emphatic headshake. “See? What’d I tell you?” Al says as he gets back up.
In response, Marvela shoots Al a dirty look, and turns her gaze back to the writhing Akiyama. “What’s with the silent treatment, huh?” she taunts her as Kanako struggles to pull them to the ropes. “You were chatty enough with that Lethbridge twat. What, do I not rate as worthy for all that witty banter? The one-liners? ANSWER ME!! SPEAK!!” she demands, causing the Japanese girl to stop struggling. She slowly props herself up to look across at Marvela, rather than looking up at her, her eyes smoldering with rage. The Frenchwoman returns the belligerent gaze, angered further by her continued silence. She grabs a tight handful of Kanako’s hair and rears back to deliver a stinging bitchslap. Most, simply because of the obvious telegraph of it, expect the Modern Day Ronin to block the attempt. Which is why the crowd collectively “OOOH!!”s when Akiyama does no such thing, defiantly accepting the attack, never taking her eyes off of Marvela’s. The Marvelous One is likewise taken aback as Kanako continues to simply stare at her with remarkable intensity, a thin trickle of blood rolling down her chin from her lip. A sneer curls Marvela’s lip and, emboldened, she pulls back for another slap. This one, Kanako does not let pass, as before Marcille can let her palm fly, she surges forward, levelling her with a devastating headbutt to her jaw that both frees Kanako from the painful hold and puts Marcille on her back, clutching her jaw, checking for blood.
Kanako, meanwhile, makes it to all fours when her gaze falls upon the Prodigal Daughter, and it’s like a switch is flipped inside the Tokyo Tiger. In a flash, she’s on top of her foe, levelling Marvela with brutal knee strikes to her head, ribs and tummy. The Marvelous One offers no resistance, still dazed as she is from the headbutt, grunting and groaning with each thump of the Japanese girl’s knee. She then hauls Marcille up to her feet roughly by the hair and backs her into the nearest corner. A pair of deep gut punches keeps the French girl pliant as she Irish whips her into the opposite corner. Marvela’s body shudders on impact, only to be followed shortly thereafter by a cartwheel backflip back elbow by the Modern Day Ronin.
CARTWHEEL BACKFLIP BACK ELBOW: www.youtube.com/watch?v=cFIVaHHyiCs
Kanako quickly follows up, Irish whipping Marvela back to the original corner, preparing to deliver another cartwheel backflip back elbow. Unfortuntely, she comes up empty, as Marvela barely manages to dodge the acrobatic maneuver, sending Kanako crashing back first into the turnbuckle. On unsteady legs, Marvela wades in and nails Kanako with a straight right hand and a knife-edge chop before Irish whipping Kanako into the opposite corner. This time, however, it’s Kanako that reverses the maneuver, and it’s at this point that Al finds himself uncharacteristically out of position and directly in Marvela’s path. Having no time to react, the two collide and crash to the mat. Without a moment’s hesitation, the Modern Day Ronin goes into a crouch and waits for the self-proclaimed Queen of Wrestling to get to her feet. When she does, Kanako lunges forward with a devastating superkick!
SUPERKICK: www.youtube.com/watch?v=dPbtOoUQgK8
The Marvelous One just manages to dodge the attack, and counters with a kick to the gut, doubling the Tokyo Tiger over. Quickly thrusting her head between her thighs and hooks both of her arms, Marvela flips Kanako over, bringing her up to her head’s level, then sending her crashing down to the mat hard with her Try Harder finisher!
TRY HARDER: www.youtube.com/watch?v=XOrbdHqOkyY
When no three count comes, Marcille looks over to find Al still crumpled in a heap following their collision. Slowly, as comprehension sets in, a wide grin crosses the Frenchwoman’s face. “Fucking psycho…” she grunts as she shoves Kanako’s limp body aside, “...I’ve got something for you.” She then slides out of the ring and makes a beeline for the timekeeper’s table. Having the good sense to get out of her way, the timekeeper scrambles for the relative safety of the announce table. Marcille grabs the steel chair he had just been sitting in, folds it up, and slides it into the ring, followed by Marvela herself. The crowd groans as they see what’s coming. Marvela Marcille definitely lives by Jesse Ventura’s old mantra: Win if you can, lose if you must, but always cheat! She stands by, almost using the chair as a crutch as she waits for Kanako to get to her feet, which she does just ahead of Al. Seeing history repeating itself, the FAWNatics try to warn Kanako of what’s coming, as Marvela raises the chair high and...whacks it against the mat with a loud BANG! She then tosses the chair to Kanako, who catches it out of reflex, then drops like a stone to the mat. Without missing a beat, Kanako calmly opens the chair up, sets her own head inside of it, and likewise lays herself out on the mat.
youtu.be/Hzweos2lnrw?t=198
Hearing the laughter of the crowd, Marvela opens her eyes and peeks to see Kanako sprawled out on the mat, and Al seeing the scene before him, having just cleared out the cobwebs. She looks on in horror, seeing her ruse backfire on her, as Al points an accusatory finger at her.
“You!!” He bellows as Marvela scrambles to her feet, “Did you really think you were gonna get away with this again?!”
“No, no!” Marvela shakes her head emphatically, pleading her case, “I didn’t hit her with the chair! Honest!” She decides her only way out of a disqualification is to tell the truth, “I was just trying to trick you into thinking she hit me! You have to believe me!”
“Don’t give me that!” Al barks back, “I’ve got half a mind to disqualify you just on princip - “ Just then, Kanako - having pulled the chair off her head - comes up behind Marvela and rolls her up into a small package. Al quickly drops to the mat and counts.
ONE!
TWO!!
THREE!!!
The bell sounds as Kanako rolls off of Marvela and she sits up, a look of incredulity on her face. She shakes her head emphatically, shouting “NO!!” over and over again at the top of her lungs as the call comes in over the PA
“Ladies and gentlemen...Your winner of this match, via pinfall...KANAKO AKIYAMA!!!”
The roar of the crowd drowns out Marvela’s protestations, and she quickly enters into full meltdown mode, throwing herself back onto the mat, kicking and pounding the canvas as she wails in a rage. She then sees Al standing over her, a look of confusion on his face. It’s not often you see a grown-ass adult throw a full blown temper tantrum. Practically frothing at the mouth, Marvela springs to her feet and gets right into Al’s face, grabbing him by the collar.
“YOU!!” she roars at him, “THIS IS YOUR FAULT!! YOU CONSPIRED WITH THAT LITTLE BRAT AGAINST ME FROM THE START!! I’LL HAVE YOUR JOB FOR THIS INDIGNITY, CARPENTER!! DON’T YOU KNOW WHO I AM??!!”
“Oh…” a low voice behind Marcille - a voice that hasn’t been heard all match - speaks up, “I know exactly who you are.” Marvela, the sound of Kanako’s deadly serious voice snapping her out of her rage-induced haze, gulps and slowly turns around to face her. “You’re the one that set me on this path in the first place,” she continues, chair in hand, “I don’t think I ever properly thanked you for that.”
“Oh, god.” Marvela whimpers as Kanako raises the chair, a murderous look in her eyes.
“Thanks for giving me a weapon.” Kanako growls. And with that, she jabs Marvela in the ribs with the chair, doubling the Marvelous One over, then bringing the chair crashing across her back with the unmistakable CRASH! of metal to flesh, bringing the Frenchwoman down to the mat, stomach down. Kanako then proceeds to wear that steel chair out, bringing it down across Marvela’s back over and over again like a hammer. Marvela screams and thrashes with each crack of the chair, unable to do anything but take the punishment. After five whacks of the chair, Kanako finally stops and plants her foot on Marvela’s right hand - the hand that Kanako spent the opening moments of this match mangling.
“No…” Marvela whines, Kanako’s intent being obvious, “...No, no, no, no…” Without another word, Kanako stomps Marvela’s paw and quickly brings the chair down one more time on the hand before she could move it out of the way. Marvela shrieks and cradles her hand as Al calls for medical assistance from the back. “MY HAND!!” Marvela finally screams at Kanako as she climbs out of the ring, “YOU FUCKING BITCH, YOU BROKE MY HAND!!!” As it would turn out, she didn’t, but she didn’t know that at the time. Kanako paid the Marvelous One no mind as she walked up the entrance ramp to stunned silence, the assembled masses wondering just what the hell Lydia Lethbridge unleashed upon FAWN when she woke up...whatever this was.