Post by hawkeye on Feb 10, 2019 18:16:12 GMT
Still furious at taking the pin against everyone’s favorite brat at Seasons’ Beatings, albeit in a tag match, Kyle Sanders fumed as she stood behind the curtain, ready for her cue.
“She gets to come out second? What the hell, Dogg?” Ky asked.
“I know, Chill. But don’t let Da Man get on top a ya. Ya just have to cancel the bytch.”
A FAWN flunky walked by, shouting for Kat, letting her know she’s got two minutes.
Elfin features scrunched in anger and Sanders shoulderblocked the man into a wall, the doofus pooling at the base, looking up in consternation.
“Don’t even get up,” Jasmine advised, as a tensed Ky looks like she could leap for his throat.
Thankfully for the backstage stooge, Iggy and Charlie began to belt Hot&Bothered’s anthem ‘Fancy’ and, ever the professional, Sanders pushed through the curtain, Washington right behind her.
FANCY:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=O-zpOMYRi0w
Moving to center stage, Vanilla was quickly joined by J-Dogg and former partners cousin Kristy and the Huggable Cosette LeBlanc followed moments behind. The quartet gathered in a phalanx of FAWN pulchritude while the crowd unleashed their hatred upon the Pleasant Valley Pariah at ear-injuring levels.
Drawing on echoes of her original gear, Sanders sported a unique, multi-strapped yellow-gold sports bra topside with black boy-cut shorts, black boots and pads.
(https://www.yandy.com/Multi-Strapped-Microfiber-Sports-Bra.php )
KYLIE SANDERS:
JASMINE WASHINGTON:
KRISTY SANDERS:
COSETTE LEBLANC:
On the FAWNtron behind her, ‘‘VANILLA CHILL IN DA HOUSE BYTCHES!’ appeared in ten-foot high, gold letters. Her crew showed Sanders off, the Nubian beauty Jasmine raising a wrist of the former fan favorite, the boos falling like a downpour.
Kylie gave Kristy and Cosette tight Bear Hugs in turn and watched as each headed to the back to a spiteful roar from the crowd. Only Jasmine was approved to join the wily veteran at ringside and the decree from boss Bethany was clearly not sitting well.
Turning, Sanders headed for the battlefield, subatomic wisps of steam rising from her ears. Chill didn’t bother with the lowlifes on the rail as the women headed down the ramp and aisle. The champ focused on staying out of reach while Washington demanded Kylie be given proper respect. Former members of the Corps weren’t the least bit interested in doing so.
Reaching the squared circle, Sanders huddled with Jas, the chants of “TROLL” already starting to emerge. Chill swallowed her growing ire.
“Keep Chrissy out of my way,” Ky insisted. “This little punk beats me again they’re stuffing me down in the mid-card. And honey. Where I go, you go.”
Washington got the none too subtle message, nodding while irritably biting her lower lip.
With the FAWNatics now rolling with ‘TROLL…TROLL…TROLL,” Kylie covered her ears as she stomped up the steps, Jasmine screaming at the FAWNatics to shut their mouths. Needless to say, the voices grew louder as Sanders entered and cast her hazel eyes through the arena. Drawing her hands down, Kylie tried to ignore the masses but finally caved to the decibels, stomping her feet as she circled the canvas.
“Silence, damn it! I’m a god damn legend!”
As the entrance music faded, leaving the chants seemingly louder still, the Announcer saved the day for Sanders, interrupting with an introduction.
“Our next match is one fall with a twenty minute time limit. From da space where Da Man ain’t got no place…standing five feet four inches tall and weighing in at one hundred and twelve pounds…Vanilla Chill…Kylie Sanders!”
The crowd increased its volume and Ky, stick acquired while the blowhard did his job, waved at the losers to get themselves quiet. Why Sanders thought they’ll obey was one of life’s great mysteries.
“Tick…tick…tick,” Kylie shouted. “Your fifteen minutes are almost up, Braddock! You’ve been living lucky. There’s no other reason. I know it. You know it. Chrissy knows it. But it’s all over tonight. Tonight, you aren’t in here with Vanilla Chill. You got Arctic Chill, bytch.”
Sanders turned and stomped to her corner, Jasmine accompanying her. She turned over her microphone to J-Dogg. Washington exited through the ropes, but remained on the apron, both women turning their gaze to the stage above.
Van Halen's ‘Beautiful Girls’ erupted from the speakers, the unmistakable sound of Eddie Van Halen's signature riff tearing the air itself.
No longer JUST the song for one of the GOATy icons of the organization, three-time World Champion Chrissy Daniel, both members of H&B and the entire sellout crowd knew David Lee Roth also applied his unique style toward a next gen replica who was already started on an enviable azimuth, pinning Sanders twice in her two sanctioned matches, once in singles and another in the previous card’s tag showdown.
Together the blonde fireplugs, Chrissy’s mane ash and Braddock’s golden, strode to center stage and stared lasers down at the gawking Hawkeye. They suddenly burst into laughter, pointing at Sanders as they moved to and down the ramp. Kylie’s face flushed, rage barely contained.
The busty blonde youngster followed the leader, literally, the California Quakes reaching the ring without a single dawdle among the mostly supportive fans, the FAWNatics showing they’d put up with a little abuse if it meant a lot of Kylie on her back.
CHRISSY DANIEL:
KAT ‘THE BRAT’ BRADDOCK:
Braddock, a combination of Chrissy’s frame and Kylie’s features from FAWN’s nascent days dazzled in a green crocheted bikini with green pads and black ankle boots.
Daniel led her charge up the steps and opened the ropes wide for The Brat who slipped carefully through, eyes always on Sanders even as she smiled angelically, clearly understanding how to get under Kylie’s skin.
As Van Halen faded, the Announcer welcomes the rookie.
“And her opponent, hailing from Newport Beach, California, standing five feet two inches tall and weighing in at one hundred and twenty-three pounds, Kat “THE BRAT” Braddock.”
Braddock stepped forward to claim the middle of the ring, Chrissy dropping to the floor and moving to the corner opposite Kylie and her loyal Dogg.
The Imp plays coy, acting as though she’s looking for a microphone but couldn’t find it. Kat pulled it from behind her back (Kylie’s blind side), lifting it to her Cupid’s Arrow lips.
“Calm down. Calm down,” Katrina purred. “I don’t want you getting overly excited, falling down and breaking your hip. I’ll start you off nice and slow. Give the people a show before I give them what they REALLY want. Your face under my ass!”
The mob heartily agreed, hooting loudly as they gave the very idea an ovation.
Kat shrugged at Sanders.
“They REALLY don’t like you,” she mouthed, tossing the stick to Kylie who slapped it out into the front row where it’s quickly gathered by a FAWN flunky.
Jasmine gave some last second advice then dropped to the floor. The Hawkeye stretched a couple final times, ready to teach Braddock there’s confident and there’s monumentally stupid.
Washington continued to offer words of support from her place on the floor, but they barely registered once Kylie turned her attention to the far corner and the Brat residing therein. Braddock had made her life miserable since All Hallows Evil, bullying Sanders around the ring like she was some snot-nosed punk and not a veteran of fifteen plus years. It ended tonight. Tonight she’d-- the CLANG of the bell intruded, not that Ky minded. She grabbed the top rope in one hand and gave it a single snappy tug, excellent practice for when she tore Braddock’s arm off and beat her with it. Eyes locked on the smug ingénue, Kylie raised her hands and hunched forward in a springy grappler’s crouch en route to the center of the ring. “All right, little girl.” she murmured. “Time you find out what happens to the idiots that cross FAWN’s most hated.”
On the far side of the ring, Chrissy swatted Kat’s boot when she noted Kylie’s approach. “She’s a chump at heart, don’t ever forget that.” the Killer Imp told her curvaceous charge. “Sanders can do a decent impression of a bad ass from time to time, but hit her hard enough and she’ll show you why she’s the biggest quitter FAWN’s ever known.” Chrissy smacked the mat with both hands when Braddock just nodded. “Go make her your bytch, Kat.”
“I already have.” Kat said with a smile aimed directly at Sanders. “Tonight’s just confirmation.”
Strolling out of the corner to join the other blonde, Braddock kept her hands on her hips rather than prepare any legitimate defense. “Hope you don’t mind being on this early in the card.” she called to the Iowan when they were only steps apart. “Figured an old lady like you would want to get home in time to watch--”
Sanders earned a loud ‘oooooohhhhh!’ from the lapsed Corps thanks to a single swift Bytch Slap that CRAAACKED across Kat’s cheek. Stepping in to grind her forehead against the younger blonde’s temple, Kylie hissed, “Watch your mouth, new meat. Otherwise you’ll go from Brat to Bytch in a single nigNNGGHH!”
Braddock interrupted with a quick Headbutt, then swept Sanders into a Collar & Elbow that was little more than an excuse to grind the heel of one palm against Kylie’s mouth and nose. “Get used to this, hag.” the Brat sneered. “You’re gonna be choking on me all nigOOOWWWWWW!” Braddock stamped in place, her heels pounding an erratic beat all because Kylie was snacking on the first knuckle of her index finger!
Carpenter saw the infraction and started to intervene but Kat beat him to it with a rough shove and a Haymaker directed at Sanders’ nogg-- the Pleasant Valley Pariah ducked low and swung around on Braddock’s six to secure a snug Waistlock. Feet braced wide, Ky dug her knotted hands into the smaller blonde’s belly, then popped her hips and-- Kat clamped down on her wrists and settled into a crouch to thwart whatever Kylie had in mind. Smirking as she rode out Sanders’ efforts to power her off the mat, the Brat dug her nails into the veteran’s wrists and slowly prized her hands apart. “Too slow. Too weak. Too OLDNEERRRGH!”
The multi-time former champion THWHUMPED a Headbutt into the base of her attacker’s neck and followed it with a pair of quick Kneelifts to Braddock’s glutes. Kat’s grip faltered so Kylie bore down on the Waistlock, yanked the fireplug into the air and dropped to her knees to THWHUMP Braddock onto her belly. “What’s the matter, tuff girl?” Sanders made a point to gouge the point of her chin between Kat’s shoulders even as she scrambled to a seat. “Chrissy helped you get Jugg Smothers and wedgies down to an art, but that dumpy troll never bothered to teach actual wrestling?”
WAISTLOCK TAKEDOWN & KNEELING BEAR HUG:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=l8-JLJhmmZ8
“She didn’t have to teach me anything.” Braddock was pulling at Sanders’ hands again, though she wasn’t having as much luck now that the Iowan was effectively riding her back. “Kicking your overrated ass was day one shyt for me, or have you already forgotten All Hallows EvEEERRRHHH BITING! BITING, REF!”
Al saw it at once, t’was pretty difficult not to what with Sanders snacking on her opponent’s right ear lobe. “All right Kylie, knock it off right now!” the ref ordered. “You know better than that!”
Indeed she must have because Kylie spat her foe out at once. “Oh, big, bad Kitty needs a ref to save her ass?” She ‘smacked’ a kiss on Braddock’s cheek, then squeezed the Waistlock tighter and laid out on her side to take them both to the mat.
“Get up, Kat!” Chrissy barked from somewhere on the outside. “Don’t let that wash-out ride you around the ring!”
“Shut your fat face, Impy!” J-Dogg replied from H&B’s side of town. “Unless you want me to come over there and whoop dat ass again!”
“Pipe down the both of ya!” Carpenter ordered without taking his attention from the action in the ring. “Or you can continue your discussion in the back!”
That earned him a ‘putz’ from Chrissy and a ‘cracka’ from Jasmine, not that either the referee or their respective partners paid it much mind. Far more angry than hurt by Kylie’s early control, Braddock spun to one knee after a few seconds on her side but still couldn’t get the other blonde off her ba--“Errrrrggghhhh!”
Sanders relinquished the Waistlock so she could whip around in front of the other blonde and slap on a grinding Front Facelock. “Keep your eyes on that canvas, little girl.” the Pernicious Platinum Pixie muttered as she stretched out flat on her belly. “I want you familiar with every inch of it, so you’ll know exactly where you are when I start scraping your face against--” Sanders fell silent when the grounded battler planted her hands and made it to all fours despite the veteran’s encroaching weight. From there she wrapped an arm around Ky’s waist and clambered to one knee with an ease Sanders found especially disconcerting considering the amount of pressure she had on the Facelock.
“This all you got?” the Brat huffed. “If there’s more I’d bring it out now. Because you’re not going to last long with OW! OW! OW! Aaaarrrrggghhhh bytch!”
Not afraid to get catty when the opportunity arose, Sanders halved the Facelock so she could reach down and SLAP the other blonde’s rump once, twice, three times! A wedgie followed the spanking, Kylie jerking those sea-green bottoms between the newcomer’s cheeks in a vindictive sawing motion. “I’ve forgotten more than you’ll ever learn.” Kylie explained once she’d returned the Facelock to full strength. “You’ve been lucky so far, sweetie. Lucky to catch me by surprise at AHE, lucky to land a cheap shot at Season’s Beatings. But everyone’s luck runs out eventually. And yours bottoms out tonNNFFHH!”
Braddock looped her arms around the Hawkeye’s waist and squeezed Kylie with a Bear Hug of her own. No trash talk now, the Brat powered to her feet in silence, then reared up and PUSHED offa Sanders’ tummy to break that damned FaceNOOOO!
Kylie pumped her legs and landed on her feet, the Front Facelock STILL grinding away at Braddock’s ears! “THAT’S RIGHT!” Kylie barked over a smattering of applause. “FIGHT IT ALL YOU WANT, BRAT! YOU’RE NOT GOING ANYWHERE UNTIL WHOOOAAHH!”
Kat stood up straight and sent Sanders soaring backward with a single colossal shove. Ky adjusted in mid-air and landed on her feet, the FAWN original only stumbling a pace or two when-- Kat charged in with her right shoulder down low, the rampaging Brat turning her foe inside out with brutal short-range Spear. Landing on her knees beside the matchbooked legend, Braddock shoved Sanders’ legs aside so she could slither across her chest in a Crossbody good for the…
SPEAR:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=_GDxe5CyM0k
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOOO!
Kylie bucked clear with half a second to spare, allowing Jasmine to hop down from the apron without ever being noticed by the official.
While Washington returned to her station near the base of the ring post, concern evident on her face, Chrissy applauded the Brat’s emergence in the match, shouting at Braddock to embarrass Sanders.
Kat shot a quick nod in Daniel’s direction, knee-walking to Ky’s boots and pulling her foe’s slender, alabaster legs wide. Kneeling between the limbs, the rookie placed her hands on the inner thighs of the Hawkeye and proceeded to drop into a vicious Headbutt to Kylie’s privates.
Sanders jolted to a seated position, hazel eyes bulging, cupid’s arrow lips in a wide ‘O’ as the waves of pain emanated from her battered nether region. Kat pulled her head up and stared deep into the veteran’s eyes. Sanders extended plaintive hands, silently pleading with the newbie not to replicate. The teenage, flaxen-haired fireplug winked and dropped ANOTHER butt to Kylie’s crotch, Sanders yelping in anguish as Kat’s forehead PLOWED into her tender mercies.
A grinning Braddock lifted her noggin to peek into Kylie’s watering eyes.
“Chrissy made a name making you her bytch back in the day,” Kat purred. “You’re mine now!”
Still between Ky’s quivering legs, Kat rotated to the right ninety degrees and Scissored Sanders’ left stem while wrapping both palms around the Hawkeye’s right ankle. Kitty blasted, Kylie shook her head, bleating ‘no. ..no...no’ as the rookie stretched the lower limbs into a widening set of splits. Sanders’ head and torso dropped to the canvas, the Platinum Pixie tugging at her silvery bob to spread the pain from her searing groin muscles.
“I hear you take punishment like an Energizer bunny,” Kat grunted. “I’m guessing that battery’s running dry by this point in your career.”
Kat forced the gams to damn near a single file, Kylie howling in agony but spitting out a harried ‘no’ when Al asked if she wanted to cede the match to the millennial.
Pushing her palms into the mat at her sides, Ky elevated and started scooting toward the cables behind her, dragging Kat like an anchor. But after a dozen seconds, Vanilla Chill was able to grab the bottom rope and plead for release.
Jasmine put in her two cents in more emphatic fashion and Carpenter agreed a couple ticks later, demanding the neophyte release her leg spread. At FOUR, Braddock obeyed, releasing and rolling toward the center of the ring where she pushed to her feet and takes a quick glance at a beaming Imp.
Kat returned her attention and watched intently as an aching Sanders used the ropes to pull to a seat, the blonde drawing her limbs together around her throbbing groin. Braddock took off like a shot, going zero to sixty in a few steps and pivoted into a jaw-rocking hip check to Sanders’ face. Kylie’s head and torso snapped back, forced deep into the strands from the impact and The Brat bounded away in the opposite direction after the connection.
The Cali girl skidded to a stop while a shellshocked Ky flopped to her chest and weakly pushed to all fours, hoping to crawl out of harm’s way and into J-Dogg’s pound. Sanders nearly reached the safe zone when Kat snatched an ankle and dragged the squirming, matbound Sanders on her chest to the middle where the rookie released her foe’s limb.
“Don’t tell me you want out already,” Braddock scolded, sending a stomp to Kylie’s ivory-skinned tummy to put Sanders in a fit of retching, Ky’s abs already bruised by the earlier spear.
“I’m sure Bethany could find a cubicle for you in the FAWN front office…if you beg nicely.”
The Brat grabbed Kylie’s right ankle, raising it high. She stepped on the left. Already understanding what the tanned teenager had in mind, again the Platinum Pixie begged off, but the request was of no consequence. Kat laid out, wrecking Chill’s groin in a new and agony-inducing manner with a Wishbone Drop. As the rookie rolled away and popped to her feet, Chrissy and the Chill Haters cheered loudly, Kylie’s hands burying between her pale stems. She collapsed into a fetal ball, appearing totally unable to cope with the onslaught.
From the sidelines, a perplexed Jasmine implored her partner to get up, but Kylie could only rock from side to side, body collapsed around its center. Kat didn’t have all day to wait for a recovery. Instead, she sank a set of nails into the scalp of the FAWN original and tugged her slowly, gingerly to rubbery legs. The Brat stood her legendary foe directly in front of her and proceeded to SLAP the taste out of Sanders’ mouth, Ky’s head swiveling violently.
Sanders’ noggin wobbled on its return, Chill ending nose to nose with the curvy rookie; at least until Kat dipped slightly and wrapped her brawny little arms around the ivory waist of the veteran. With Chrissy’s enthusiastic support ringing in her ears, Braddock cinched her embrace tight, forcing a gasping exhale from the Hawkeye. The vertically-challenged Brat lifted Sanders to toe tips and slightly beyond, the Iowan no tower herself.
The golden-maned grappler rattled the frame of her foe from side to side while keeping the breathtaking Bear Hug tight, an increasingly worried Washington’s face dropping into her hands.
“Come on, Chill,” she shouted into her palms. “Beat on this bytch!”
Perhaps inspired by her partner’s words or simply the fear she’s being squeezed into surrender, Kylie’s arms rose to either side of the rookie’s braincase and the Pleasant Valley Pariah slapped her hands together behind Kat’s cranium. The Ear Ringer stunned Braddock, allowing Kylie’s boot soles to touch canvas.
Sanders shoved the limp arms of the teenager off her, dipped, and swung an arm between the sturdy tanned stems of the newbie. With a loud guttural grunt, Chill vaulted Kat off the canvas and across her shoulders. The crowd prepared for Braddock to find her way to Chilly Valley, Ky driving her there. But instead, the Platinum Pixie started to twirl like a top, taking the wide-eyed Brat for a ride, Kat the propeller in Kylie’s Airplane Spin.
Hardly in the best of shape, Sanders’ pirouettes were ungainly and not particularly fast, but she managed to keep vertical while gyrating in a half-dozen circles until launching Braddock off her shoulders. Kat took another ¾ turn on her own before CRASHING to earth on her face and chest.
Dizzied, the rookie flopped to her back, eyes spinning as she stared into the rafters. At her side, Kylie struggled to appear sober, staggering before managing to fall across Braddock in a Lateral Press for…
ONE…
TWO…
Kat shoved a shoulder up and rolled to her chest, quickly pushing to all fours before hitting a balance barrier, Braddock trying to regain her bearings from the whirlpool-like experience. Sanders was on one knee, shaking out her cobwebs. She dug a set of digits into Kat’s flaxen strands.
“Get your ass up, nobody.” Ky demanded. She tugs Braddock to unsteady feet as she rises.
“I’ve put so many wannabes down through the years.”
Sanders loaded a Chop and landed the wicked reverberating backhand to the blonde’s ample cleavage.
“You’re just another on the list.”
Ky got another ready then delivered it toward the tanned chest of her foe, but Kat ducked under, sending Kylie into a pirouette after the swing and miss. By the time Sanders reached the end of her 360, Braddock was ready with a lifted knee that THUMPED into Kylie’s bosom, sending the Platinum Pixie into a backpedal, only stopping when Chill’s spine hit the buckles of a neutral corner.
The teen terror was immediately after her well-worn adversary, charging Sanders, likely looking to splash Vanilla Chill under an avalanche of Beach Brat. But the wily Kylie dropped to the canvas and was able to use a Drop Toe Hold to send Braddock CRASHING into the corner, Kat faceplanting against the middle buckle.
The dazed newbie spun to a seat on the canvas, back wedged against the buckles, abbreviated legs extended. Seeing an opportunity to Bust the Brat, Kylie wobbled to the opposite corner to the sounds of a whooping J-Dogg. Kylie turned and sprinted toward Kat, hoping to introduce her undercarriage to Braddock’s mug.
A decidedly mixed reaction from the capacity crowd when Sanders went airborne in a low-flying, splay-legged glide that THAWHUMPED her tush against Braddock’s vaunted curves. Cheers of course, it was a cold soul that didn’t love the Bronco Buster, not to mention plenty of boos from those heartbroken Kylie Corps members that simply could not stand to see their former leader flourish under any circumstances. But there was also a strong undercurrent of buzzing surprise and perhaps even a little concern when the former World Champion tumbled backward from her perch without bothering to ‘enjoy the ride’ as it were.
Set on one knee a short distance from the curvaceous ingénue, Ky put a hand to her mistreated trunks and muttered, “Still worth it.”
“You sure about that, Hagatha?” Braddock snarled as she clambered to boot leather. “Looks like that mangy old kitty has seen better days.”
The Iowan rose up, took a half step back, steadied her feet. “Is that what you’re calling your nose?” “Because kitty’s looking for a new place to--”
Kat moved fast, Chrissy’s protégé leading with outstretched claws like she wanted to tear Sanders apart on contact. But what she wanted actually meant very little to Hot & Bothered, which was why Kylie took great delight in taking the charging blonde down with an effortless Drop Toe Hold. Bouncing to her feet immediately thereafter, Sanders ran the ropes directly south of Kat so she could use the grounded Quake like a doormat upon her return, FAWN’s Most Hated making a point to stomp on Kat’s butt, lower back and directly between her shoulders as she made her way to the opposite side of the squared circle.
“Keep your head up, kid!” Chrissy pounded the apron with both hands in an effort to clear the fog from Braddock’s brain. “Don’t let her walk all over--” the rest of the Imp’s well wishes fell by the wayside when a rebounding Kylie went low, caught Kat under the chin and tumbled over her flattened form to wrench her head back at a wicked angle courtesy of a Reverse Rolling Neck Snap!
REVERSE ROLLING NECK SNAP:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=4P9hz-UPe-k
Not a match ender by any means, but it sure didn’t do Braddock’s head any good, nor did her situation improve when Sanders stomped into position off her right shoulder and THWHUMPED a blink and you’ll miss it Leg Drop across her throat. “Any more tips for the freshman, Chrissy?” Kylie taunted once she’d rolled to one knee and ‘flicked’ her trunks back into place. “Or did you exhaust all your advice after ‘pull her hair and rake her tits?’”
Daniel offered a smile that didn’t quite reach her batted eyes. “Don’t forget ‘ruin her nasty crotch’. It was more than enough to put you away when you were in what passed for a prime.”
Sanders didn’t reply with words, rather she shoveled Braddock onto her stomach, then spun her around so that she was facing the elder Beach Cat. Strolling to Kat’s ankles, Kylie planted her left foot between the younger blonde’s stems so she had a convenient post to work with when she grabbed Braddock’s left ankle and folded it into the pit of her right knee. From there she helped herself to Kat’s right foot and pulled her lower leg snug against her waiting left shin. Deathlock complete, she reached for the Brat’s wrists only to have Kat pull them tight under her torso.
“Good move, kid.” Daniel clapped support from her place on the outside. “Now get up on your elbows and follow my voice!”
Braddock complied, or at least started to. She didn’t get much beyond that before Kylie flattened both hands into paddles and CRAAACKED stereo slaps into her ribs.
“Don’t listen to that idiot, kiddo. She’s going to get you hurt.” the veteran advised. “Now give me your hands.”
“Fuuuhhh… f*ck off.” Braddock grunted. “Like I’m going to listen to anything a chronic cushion like you has to say. I wouldn’t hear you even if you used that microphone Dream jammed in your EEEERRRRRRRGGHHHHHHH!”
Kylie braced her left hand between the blonde’s shoulders for balance so she could unleash a hateful torrent of shiv-like punches against Kat’s right flank.
“CLOSED HANDS! CLOSED HANDS, CARPENTER, MAKE HER KNOCK THAT SHYT OFF!” Chrissy barked, the notorious rule breaker suddenly a pillar for sweetness and light now that it was her partner and student suffering beneath Sanders’ white-knuckled assault.
Al moved in to warn her about the infraction, though it proved unnecessary because Ky stopped a couple seconds prior to his arrival. “Watch those hands, Kylie.”
“She should learn to watch her mouth.” the Pernicious Platinum Pixie muttered. She palmed Braddock’s forehead in one hand, hooked two fingers into the rookie’s nose and tuuuuuuuugged until she’d earned a nasal squeal. “She should also learn to give me her freakin’ hands!”
Al started in on the count without bothering for a warning and again it proved a moot point because Kat gave up her defenses to deal with Kylie’s hooks, which in turn caused the Iowan to take command of her wrists instead. “Yeah, that’s more like it!” Kylie craaaaaaaaaanked back on Braddock’s arms to put rough strain on her shoulders and spine with the Surfboard. “Got anything smart to say now?” Sanders spoke to Chrissy rather than Kat. “Choose your words carefully, Imp. Piss me off and I’ll take it out on your Pet Rock here.”
“Who are you trying to fool?” Daniel sneered. “You’re no legend. You’re not even a success story. All you are is a mascot that hung around long enough to earn the respect, or should I say, the pity, of all these losers. Kylie’s hazel eyes narrowed and she put more behind the Surfboard, but the implied threat didn’t stop Chrissy for an instant. “And what did you do when that pity FINALLY turned into something almost like admiration? You pissed it all away! To make matters worse, you took the worst of Baby, mixed it with the worst of LK and threw it all in a blender! Now all you are is the broken down cart holding back a thoroughbred like Washing--”
Sanders yanked back until Kat’s upper body was entirely off the mat. Then she raised her right knee high, planted that foot between the other blonde’s shoulders and stamped down to THAWHUMP Braddock’s face and chest into the canvas with an ungodly Curbstomp. Eyes still locked on Chrissy, Kylie dropped to her knees, rolled Kat onto her back and stretched out across her chest with the far leg hooked tight for…
CURBSTOMP:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=9t5kjf4ctdI
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOOO!
The Brat wrenched her leg free of Sanders’ clutches with half a second to spare. “Not good enough, Ky.” Chrissy said softly. “Your best has NEVER been good enough.”
“I don’t need my best to beat you, Shrimp.” Kylie replied. “And I sure as hell don’t need it to beat this one.”
She tousled Kat’s hair, then helped herself to a handful and peeled the woozy warrior off the deck in stages. Using the hair-hold to keep her steady, Kylie drew a bead on the back of Kat’s head, then tried her damndest to cave it in with a Forearm Smash that CRAAACKED like a rife-shot! Braddock toppled to one knee, caught herself and started to rise, a show of durability that would’ve irked Sanders to no end if she hadn’t already set off for the ropes in front of her reeling adversary. Taking flight from a few steps out, Kylie landed on the second strand and launched herself backward in a flawless Springboard Moonsault Press that--
Kat stepped to one side and THWHAPPED a Forearm Smash of her own into the defenseless expanse of the Iowan’s midsection!
SPRINGBOARD MOONSAUOOOUCH:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=QBV7hCDOJzA
Sanders landed on all fours, as long as you counted one of those as forehead because one arm was already strapped tight to her midsection. Utterly unmoved by the other blonde’s plight, Kat trapped Kylie in a Standing Headscissors, wrapped both arms around her waist and spun her up onto her shoulders. The Pleasant Valley Pariah had just enough time to shake her head ‘no, no, no’ before Braddock rocked back on her heels and PLANTED the veteran on the pine with a cringe-inducing Powerbomb! With Kylie stacked in a Matchbook, Kat sank to her knees and put both hands on the FAWN original’s glutes in the hopes that it’d keep her down through…
POWERBOMB:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=fAAt725Xq24
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOO!
If Kat had nine lives, it seems Kylie Sanders sometimes had ten and Chill used one of them to shift a shoulder a few inches off the canvas to Braddock’s chagrin. Chrissy slammed the mat with both hands in frustration. The sight likely would bring a smile to Ky’s face if she wasn’t only barely aware of the state she’s in.
Absently rolling to her chest, Sanders received a forearm to the back of the head before she could even consider pushing to all fours. The teenager was in tight, breasts on shoulderblades, snaking her arms under and around those of the battered veteran. Skillfully, she laced her fingers behind the neck of FAWN’s Most Hated. Kat yanked back on the Full Nelson while scrambling to a straddling crouch of Chill’s lower back. With her base solidified, Braddock could really leeean back, forcing Kylie to stare into the rafters as she’s curled in a disturbing arc.
But the rookie wasn’t satisfied and, with Chrissy’s urging, she pressed the issue, dropping into a bridge and pointing Ky’s gurls to the lights, Sanders’ wide, watering hazel pools now looking at her own heels such was the incredible stress put on her spinal column.
Long winced at the sight and quickly offered Kylie a way out of the torturous predicament. Jasmine immediately contradicted any thought her partner might give in, shouting out ‘NO F’N WAY’ for the Hawkeye. Kylie was far less enthusiastic in forgoing surrender, but she remained silent in response, biting her lower lip until the youngster unhooked her Nelson and SLAMMED Kylie’s face into the deck.
Sanders’ head bounced off the thinly-covered plywood, eyes turning glassy. The rampaging rookie rolled Kylie to her back and slid slightly down her foe’s frame so she straddled the knees of the Platinum Pixie. Taking aim, Kat fell forward, forehead leading the way into a butt of Sanders’ blood pumper. Striking just left of the cleft of Kylie’s bosom, Braddock sent the Pleasant Valley Pariah into tremors with her ‘Heart Butt’.
Braddock slid up the shuddering form beneath her and secured a Schoolgirl Press, The Brat with her shins on Ky’s biceps, her palms wrapping around wrists, crotch tight to Kylie’s chin. She kept Chill’s shoulders on ice for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOO!
Again, Katrina came a few inches from the third slap of the canvas, but Sanders showed the tenacity for survival that servesdher well whether in the fans’ favor or not. Braddock swept her long golden locks behind her, mumbling and stealing a glance to Daniel as Kylie tried to slither out from under her with limited success.
“She’s a cockroach,” Daniel responded. Chrissy slammed fist to palm. “Squash her like one.”
Braddock grabbed Kylie around the noggin with both hands and drew Sanders to her feet as she rose. Dipping, she slipped an arm between Kylie’s legs and ‘hupped’ the elfin blonde off the canvas, turning her foe and leaning Chill on her right shoulder. The fireplug walked her cargo to within a few feet of her corner and deposited Sanders to the canvas with a stinging Body Slam, Kylie’s frame arching from the force of the impact.
Kat was already striding to the nearby buckles before Ky was fully at rest and, though she’s far from a frequent flyer, Braddock ascended the corner capably, turning to measure her target. Kat raised both arms high and took to the sky, leaping from her perch and diving into a simple but oh so effective Crossbody Splash from the top, crushing Chill’s aching abs underneath.
Kylie jackknifed from the gutting impact while under the curvy blonde then fell flat, but The Brat didn’t go for the pin. Instead, Braddock ripped Kylie to her feet with a handle on the FAWN original’s silvery bob. Switching her grip to a wrist and shoulder, the rookie aimed Ky at the far corner and flung her in that direction with an Irish Whip.
Sanders sped to the buckles, turning into an impactful collision. Chill threw her arms over the top cable on either side to remain upright and that’s a red flag for Braddock to charge. She raced toward Sanders. Jasmine was just below her partner, shouting at Kylie to evacuate the corner, but the platinum blonde couldn’t and The Brat threw her Beachy Crossbody into Kylie’s softened belly.
BEACHY CROSSBODY:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=xNOJH6nphR8
Swinging outside the ring after the collision, Kat prepared to club the back of Kylie’s skull but she could suddenly feel J-Dogg nipping at her heels. Snatching an ankle, Jasmine stole not only Braddock’s attention from her foe, but Washington tugged the blonde fireplug off the apron to the floor. Jas quickly got more than she bargained for when the rookie attacked with a set of windmill slaps to the cleavage of Sanders’ partner.
Staggered, Jasmine backpedaled away from the open-hand attack and into a sprinting Spear from the Imp, Chrissy coming from Washington’s three o’clock to PLOW the African-American grappler into the thinly padded cement from the side, burying Jasmine into a shoulder.
While the Imp cleared any distractions for her charge, Braddock hopped to the apron, slid through the ropes, and grabbed the shoulder of a wandering Sanders, thrusting her back into the corner from which she’s barely emerged. From there, Kat acted the bully, pounding away with forearms and chops, overwhelming the blasted Chill with a Violence Party that returned Kylie to a blistered stupor.
With Ky pliable, Kat lifted one of her foe’s slender, ivory legs and placed the crook of the knee over the middle rope on the left. Braddock quickly did likewise on the right, setting the shellshocked Sanders on a course for Shattered Dreams as Kat skipped to the opposite corner.
Those who knew Chrissy’s arsenal realized something else may be on the way and The Brat proved them right when she charged across the canvas and leapt into a shattering Dropkick to Kylie’s crotch, Chill melted with the power of both boots to her kitty.
Sanders flopped out of her predicament in a forward flip, crashing to canvas and curling into a fetal ball while moaning pitifully. Kat stood over the wreckage, accepting Chrissy’s and the crowd’s applause, clearly favoring the former over the latter.
“Perfect,” Daniel assured, likewise standing over her victim. “Perfect Sand Blaster, Kat.”
Braddock turned to Long and guided him halfway across the ring, inquiring with the official as to whether he also considered the maneuver without flaw. As The Brat distracted Craig, Chrissy pulled an inconspicuous length of chain from her trunks, reached under the bottom cable, and wrapped it around the throat of Sanders.
There’s no Jasmine to point out the chicanery at the moment and Daniel had her fun collapsing Kylie’s airway, Chill’s face turning rosier by the second while Long informed Braddock the Blaster was in fact illegal and should not have been done.
With the Imp depriving Kylie of oxygen for at least half a dozen seconds, Kat apologized, claiming ignorance to the offense and promising never to do it again…today.
Careful to keep her eyes on the action even as she was throttling Sanders to within an inch of her life, Chrissy abruptly pulled the chain away and took her leave, thus ensuring she was several seconds removed from the scene of the crime by the time before Al turned his attention to the corner. “Jeeze Ky, you ok? the ref hurried over, his voice sharp with alarm. “Did you hit your throat?”
Too busy breathing to offer much of a cogent answer, she pointed to her neck and rasped, “Bytch chuuu… choked NNNNGGGHH!”
Sensing an unseemly bout of whininess coming on, Kat bustled by the encroaching zebra and stuffed several boots into her belly before Kylie could finish her accusation. “Hey, back off Kat! She’s in the corner!”
Braddock paused, though she made sure to keep her boot on Sanders’ throat while she focused on the ref. “I know! I just heard her medic alert bracelet and wanted to make sure she could actually get up! See, I’m helping!” The Brat palmed Ky’s ears, gave ‘em a sharp twist and dragged her to boot-leather. Didn’t stop there though, she stuffed a shoulder into the Iowan’s belly and boosted her into a seat on the top rope. Satisfied with the veteran’s perch, Braddock took Kylie’s chin between thumb and forefinger and tilted her head back so she could look her in the eye. “You’re gonna beg me to finish you off, hag. You’re gonna beg and these people are gonna LOVE me for NGH!”
Sanders snatched a handful of hair and jerked Kat in close just to hammer half a dozen punches into the startled teenager’s hairline! Give Braddock credit, she covered up as best she could, but Kylie’s elevated position made the task difficult, especially when FAWN’s most hated switched over to a series of Bionic Elbows administered directly to the crown of her skull.
“HEY!” Chrissy barked to Carpenter. “They’re in the ropes! Make that cheating bytch get outta--”
Kylie doubled down on the hair-hold so she could keep Kat steady while she THWHONKED a Kneelift between her eyes! The younger Quake’s knees buckled but the two-handed grip kept her in place until Kylie halved it and CRAAACKED her across the cheek with an eye-watering Bytch Slap!
That sent Braddock staggering toward the center of the ring, so Kylie scrambled into a crouch on the top turnbuckle. Sparing a quick glance at her old adversary, Sanders blew the Imp a kiss and said, “Don’t you ever get tired of being in my shad--”
Kat rushed in, hopped onto the second rope and snugged a loose Waistlock around the veteran’s hips. Just like that she bridged up and dropped back, the fireplug blonde demonstrating some tricksy lightweight agility with an Avalanche Belly to Belly Suplex that THAWHAMMED Sanders down a good three quarters of the way across the ring!
AVALANCHE BELLY TO BELLY SUPLEX:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=CXlb3YNDN0Y
No theatrics or hesitancy from the ingénue now, Kat scrambled across the canvas in record time to Splash down across the defenseless veteran’s devastated midsection. Bundling Sanders’ legs when they popped up, Braddock leaaaaaaaaaned into the cover while Al and a whole arena full of fans counted…
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOOOOOOO!
Kylie didn’t kick out, she did however manage to drape two fingers from one hand over the bottom rope.
“OH COME ON, PUTZ!” Chrissy hopped onto the apron on the far side of the ring, the Killer Imp apoplectic over a little thing like ‘the rules’ keeping her protégé from winning the match. “That bytch is out! She didn’t grab the ropes, that was just muscle memory!” Sighing with irritation, Carpenter got up and headed over to deal with the encroaching blonde, leaving Braddock to deal with the smoldering ruin of Kylie Sanders.
This arrangement suited Kat just fine, it meant the zebra didn’t notice when she reached into her waistband and surreptitiously removed the salt packet hidden in a tiny little pocket the refs never managed to find. Tearing it open in a single quick motion, she emptied the salt into one cupped palm, then stuffed the wrapper under one elbow pad. (Couldn’t have the striped idiots discovering the evidence, Chrissy was very clear on that point.) Once that was done she bent down, grabbed a handful of that hateful platinum bob and hauled Sanders to her knees.
“No need to be salty, grandma.” the Brat teased her penitent prey. “You had a good run, but it’s over--” a commotion from her six drew Braddock’s attention to outside of the ring, where a resurgent Jasmine Washington had just yanked Chrissy from the apron to the floor. A renewal of CNP hostilities followed immediately thereafter, but Kat felt no need to lend a hand because Chrissy was holding her own just fine and besides, she already had trash to burn.
Eyes alight, she turned around and “NNNNNGGHHHHH!” Kylie palmed the younger blonde’s thighs in both hands and THUMPED the crown of her skull into Braddock’s crotch! Suddenly short of breath, Braddock doubled over, her hands reaching for-- Kylie SLAPPED the back of her rival’s clenched hand, a simple little move that effectively caused Kat to fling the salt into her own face!
She didn’t get all of it, but it was still painful enough to send the Quake rocking back on her heels with both hands knuckling at her eyes. Fighting to stand on legs that felt like they’d give way at any moment, Ky looked around and realized that Carpenter was still occupied with J-Dogg and the Shrimp. This pleased her greatly, so much in fact that she celebrated by THWHAPPING a vicious punt between the rookie’s thighs!
Kat sobbed and started to crumble, she would’ve hit the deck for sure if FAWN’s Most Hated hadn’t stepped in to break her fall with a perfectly-placed Fireman’s Carry. Muscling Braddock onto her shoulders amidst a roar from the crowd, Kylie spun to find Chrissy only to realize Jasmine was pounding her forehead against one of the far ring-posts! That satisfied Sanders just fine, so she popped up on her right foot and laid out that same way to PLANT Braddock on the thinly-sheathed plywood with a Chill Valley Driver! No standard version this, Kylie rolled through the landing to come up crouched on one knee with Kat still strapped across her shoulders!
ROLLING CHILL VALLEY DRIVER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=cIRSL_p7klg
Reclaiming her feet after a few chancy seconds, the FAWN original popped up and laid out again, just THWHUNKING the back of Braddock’s head and shoulders into the canvas. That return trip through Chill Valley left Kat stretched out flat with Kylie pressed down on her chest, the exhausted veteran having held onto her prey’s near leg to turn the landing into a tight pinning predicament. For a moment she thought she’d have to yell for Carpenter’s attention, but the lanky ref had hipped to the situation just prior to the second CVD and dove down beside the action to toll the…
CHILL VALLEY DRIVER HOLD:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=j7KbJMjwGuM
ONE…
TWO…
THREE!
Ky let loose and slopped onto her belly, the Pernicious Platinum Pixie too weary to do anything other than suck wind all through the Announcer’s proclamation. “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner via pin-fall… KYLIE SANDERS!”
Far from besting Chrissy in the battle outside the ring, Jasmine was able to break away from the fight when she heard the announcement of Ky’s victory. She slid into the ring and hopped to her feet, ready to pluck Sanders off the canvas and celebrate, when she saw the Killer Imp coming from the corner of her eye.
Spinning on a dime a couple steps removed from the rubber-coated, steel strands, J-Dogg turnred into a big boot to Daniel’s right temple as Chrissy dipped through the ropes. The stomp sent the Beach Cat careening to the floor, Daniel ending in a semiconscious puddle.
With Chrissy dispatched, Jasmine reached the Platinum Pixie, Kylie on her haunches next to the splayed Braddock. Still in no condition to take spoils, Sanders tugged in oxygen with deep breaths, wearily holding up an arm in victory. Jasmine used the Hawkeye’s limb and a wrapped around of Ky’s shoulders to help Vanilla Chill to vertical. Once there, the spent Kylie drew a hand through her silvery bob and spread the excess of her perspiration to the stirring blonde below.
The slight movement by Kat roused something inside Sanders and she found enough energy to send a series of stomps into all open areas of The Brat until Kat collapsed into a fetal ball, trying to protect herself.
“Bytch! Are you learnin’ somethin’? Cause Da Man can’t save ya from da Chill!”
Adrenaline gone, Kylie huffed to a stop, bent over, hands on her knees.
“You and the Shrimp find a place to hide and stay there or J-Dogg, Kristy, Cosette and I will make ya wish ya never made it off the beach.”
Satisfied, Kylie pushed to her full height, limited as it is, and headed for the exit with Jasmine still at her shoulder, providing steadiness to her gait. H&B slid through the ropes, dropped to the floor and bid adieu to the Quakes, perhaps understanding, like their namesakes, it might be a matter of time before they rattled the roster once more.
“She gets to come out second? What the hell, Dogg?” Ky asked.
“I know, Chill. But don’t let Da Man get on top a ya. Ya just have to cancel the bytch.”
A FAWN flunky walked by, shouting for Kat, letting her know she’s got two minutes.
Elfin features scrunched in anger and Sanders shoulderblocked the man into a wall, the doofus pooling at the base, looking up in consternation.
“Don’t even get up,” Jasmine advised, as a tensed Ky looks like she could leap for his throat.
Thankfully for the backstage stooge, Iggy and Charlie began to belt Hot&Bothered’s anthem ‘Fancy’ and, ever the professional, Sanders pushed through the curtain, Washington right behind her.
FANCY:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=O-zpOMYRi0w
Moving to center stage, Vanilla was quickly joined by J-Dogg and former partners cousin Kristy and the Huggable Cosette LeBlanc followed moments behind. The quartet gathered in a phalanx of FAWN pulchritude while the crowd unleashed their hatred upon the Pleasant Valley Pariah at ear-injuring levels.
Drawing on echoes of her original gear, Sanders sported a unique, multi-strapped yellow-gold sports bra topside with black boy-cut shorts, black boots and pads.
(https://www.yandy.com/Multi-Strapped-Microfiber-Sports-Bra.php )
KYLIE SANDERS:
JASMINE WASHINGTON:
KRISTY SANDERS:
COSETTE LEBLANC:
On the FAWNtron behind her, ‘‘VANILLA CHILL IN DA HOUSE BYTCHES!’ appeared in ten-foot high, gold letters. Her crew showed Sanders off, the Nubian beauty Jasmine raising a wrist of the former fan favorite, the boos falling like a downpour.
Kylie gave Kristy and Cosette tight Bear Hugs in turn and watched as each headed to the back to a spiteful roar from the crowd. Only Jasmine was approved to join the wily veteran at ringside and the decree from boss Bethany was clearly not sitting well.
Turning, Sanders headed for the battlefield, subatomic wisps of steam rising from her ears. Chill didn’t bother with the lowlifes on the rail as the women headed down the ramp and aisle. The champ focused on staying out of reach while Washington demanded Kylie be given proper respect. Former members of the Corps weren’t the least bit interested in doing so.
Reaching the squared circle, Sanders huddled with Jas, the chants of “TROLL” already starting to emerge. Chill swallowed her growing ire.
“Keep Chrissy out of my way,” Ky insisted. “This little punk beats me again they’re stuffing me down in the mid-card. And honey. Where I go, you go.”
Washington got the none too subtle message, nodding while irritably biting her lower lip.
With the FAWNatics now rolling with ‘TROLL…TROLL…TROLL,” Kylie covered her ears as she stomped up the steps, Jasmine screaming at the FAWNatics to shut their mouths. Needless to say, the voices grew louder as Sanders entered and cast her hazel eyes through the arena. Drawing her hands down, Kylie tried to ignore the masses but finally caved to the decibels, stomping her feet as she circled the canvas.
“Silence, damn it! I’m a god damn legend!”
As the entrance music faded, leaving the chants seemingly louder still, the Announcer saved the day for Sanders, interrupting with an introduction.
“Our next match is one fall with a twenty minute time limit. From da space where Da Man ain’t got no place…standing five feet four inches tall and weighing in at one hundred and twelve pounds…Vanilla Chill…Kylie Sanders!”
The crowd increased its volume and Ky, stick acquired while the blowhard did his job, waved at the losers to get themselves quiet. Why Sanders thought they’ll obey was one of life’s great mysteries.
“Tick…tick…tick,” Kylie shouted. “Your fifteen minutes are almost up, Braddock! You’ve been living lucky. There’s no other reason. I know it. You know it. Chrissy knows it. But it’s all over tonight. Tonight, you aren’t in here with Vanilla Chill. You got Arctic Chill, bytch.”
Sanders turned and stomped to her corner, Jasmine accompanying her. She turned over her microphone to J-Dogg. Washington exited through the ropes, but remained on the apron, both women turning their gaze to the stage above.
Van Halen's ‘Beautiful Girls’ erupted from the speakers, the unmistakable sound of Eddie Van Halen's signature riff tearing the air itself.
No longer JUST the song for one of the GOATy icons of the organization, three-time World Champion Chrissy Daniel, both members of H&B and the entire sellout crowd knew David Lee Roth also applied his unique style toward a next gen replica who was already started on an enviable azimuth, pinning Sanders twice in her two sanctioned matches, once in singles and another in the previous card’s tag showdown.
Together the blonde fireplugs, Chrissy’s mane ash and Braddock’s golden, strode to center stage and stared lasers down at the gawking Hawkeye. They suddenly burst into laughter, pointing at Sanders as they moved to and down the ramp. Kylie’s face flushed, rage barely contained.
The busty blonde youngster followed the leader, literally, the California Quakes reaching the ring without a single dawdle among the mostly supportive fans, the FAWNatics showing they’d put up with a little abuse if it meant a lot of Kylie on her back.
CHRISSY DANIEL:
KAT ‘THE BRAT’ BRADDOCK:
Braddock, a combination of Chrissy’s frame and Kylie’s features from FAWN’s nascent days dazzled in a green crocheted bikini with green pads and black ankle boots.
Daniel led her charge up the steps and opened the ropes wide for The Brat who slipped carefully through, eyes always on Sanders even as she smiled angelically, clearly understanding how to get under Kylie’s skin.
As Van Halen faded, the Announcer welcomes the rookie.
“And her opponent, hailing from Newport Beach, California, standing five feet two inches tall and weighing in at one hundred and twenty-three pounds, Kat “THE BRAT” Braddock.”
Braddock stepped forward to claim the middle of the ring, Chrissy dropping to the floor and moving to the corner opposite Kylie and her loyal Dogg.
The Imp plays coy, acting as though she’s looking for a microphone but couldn’t find it. Kat pulled it from behind her back (Kylie’s blind side), lifting it to her Cupid’s Arrow lips.
“Calm down. Calm down,” Katrina purred. “I don’t want you getting overly excited, falling down and breaking your hip. I’ll start you off nice and slow. Give the people a show before I give them what they REALLY want. Your face under my ass!”
The mob heartily agreed, hooting loudly as they gave the very idea an ovation.
Kat shrugged at Sanders.
“They REALLY don’t like you,” she mouthed, tossing the stick to Kylie who slapped it out into the front row where it’s quickly gathered by a FAWN flunky.
Jasmine gave some last second advice then dropped to the floor. The Hawkeye stretched a couple final times, ready to teach Braddock there’s confident and there’s monumentally stupid.
Washington continued to offer words of support from her place on the floor, but they barely registered once Kylie turned her attention to the far corner and the Brat residing therein. Braddock had made her life miserable since All Hallows Evil, bullying Sanders around the ring like she was some snot-nosed punk and not a veteran of fifteen plus years. It ended tonight. Tonight she’d-- the CLANG of the bell intruded, not that Ky minded. She grabbed the top rope in one hand and gave it a single snappy tug, excellent practice for when she tore Braddock’s arm off and beat her with it. Eyes locked on the smug ingénue, Kylie raised her hands and hunched forward in a springy grappler’s crouch en route to the center of the ring. “All right, little girl.” she murmured. “Time you find out what happens to the idiots that cross FAWN’s most hated.”
On the far side of the ring, Chrissy swatted Kat’s boot when she noted Kylie’s approach. “She’s a chump at heart, don’t ever forget that.” the Killer Imp told her curvaceous charge. “Sanders can do a decent impression of a bad ass from time to time, but hit her hard enough and she’ll show you why she’s the biggest quitter FAWN’s ever known.” Chrissy smacked the mat with both hands when Braddock just nodded. “Go make her your bytch, Kat.”
“I already have.” Kat said with a smile aimed directly at Sanders. “Tonight’s just confirmation.”
Strolling out of the corner to join the other blonde, Braddock kept her hands on her hips rather than prepare any legitimate defense. “Hope you don’t mind being on this early in the card.” she called to the Iowan when they were only steps apart. “Figured an old lady like you would want to get home in time to watch--”
Sanders earned a loud ‘oooooohhhhh!’ from the lapsed Corps thanks to a single swift Bytch Slap that CRAAACKED across Kat’s cheek. Stepping in to grind her forehead against the younger blonde’s temple, Kylie hissed, “Watch your mouth, new meat. Otherwise you’ll go from Brat to Bytch in a single nigNNGGHH!”
Braddock interrupted with a quick Headbutt, then swept Sanders into a Collar & Elbow that was little more than an excuse to grind the heel of one palm against Kylie’s mouth and nose. “Get used to this, hag.” the Brat sneered. “You’re gonna be choking on me all nigOOOWWWWWW!” Braddock stamped in place, her heels pounding an erratic beat all because Kylie was snacking on the first knuckle of her index finger!
Carpenter saw the infraction and started to intervene but Kat beat him to it with a rough shove and a Haymaker directed at Sanders’ nogg-- the Pleasant Valley Pariah ducked low and swung around on Braddock’s six to secure a snug Waistlock. Feet braced wide, Ky dug her knotted hands into the smaller blonde’s belly, then popped her hips and-- Kat clamped down on her wrists and settled into a crouch to thwart whatever Kylie had in mind. Smirking as she rode out Sanders’ efforts to power her off the mat, the Brat dug her nails into the veteran’s wrists and slowly prized her hands apart. “Too slow. Too weak. Too OLDNEERRRGH!”
The multi-time former champion THWHUMPED a Headbutt into the base of her attacker’s neck and followed it with a pair of quick Kneelifts to Braddock’s glutes. Kat’s grip faltered so Kylie bore down on the Waistlock, yanked the fireplug into the air and dropped to her knees to THWHUMP Braddock onto her belly. “What’s the matter, tuff girl?” Sanders made a point to gouge the point of her chin between Kat’s shoulders even as she scrambled to a seat. “Chrissy helped you get Jugg Smothers and wedgies down to an art, but that dumpy troll never bothered to teach actual wrestling?”
WAISTLOCK TAKEDOWN & KNEELING BEAR HUG:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=l8-JLJhmmZ8
“She didn’t have to teach me anything.” Braddock was pulling at Sanders’ hands again, though she wasn’t having as much luck now that the Iowan was effectively riding her back. “Kicking your overrated ass was day one shyt for me, or have you already forgotten All Hallows EvEEERRRHHH BITING! BITING, REF!”
Al saw it at once, t’was pretty difficult not to what with Sanders snacking on her opponent’s right ear lobe. “All right Kylie, knock it off right now!” the ref ordered. “You know better than that!”
Indeed she must have because Kylie spat her foe out at once. “Oh, big, bad Kitty needs a ref to save her ass?” She ‘smacked’ a kiss on Braddock’s cheek, then squeezed the Waistlock tighter and laid out on her side to take them both to the mat.
“Get up, Kat!” Chrissy barked from somewhere on the outside. “Don’t let that wash-out ride you around the ring!”
“Shut your fat face, Impy!” J-Dogg replied from H&B’s side of town. “Unless you want me to come over there and whoop dat ass again!”
“Pipe down the both of ya!” Carpenter ordered without taking his attention from the action in the ring. “Or you can continue your discussion in the back!”
That earned him a ‘putz’ from Chrissy and a ‘cracka’ from Jasmine, not that either the referee or their respective partners paid it much mind. Far more angry than hurt by Kylie’s early control, Braddock spun to one knee after a few seconds on her side but still couldn’t get the other blonde off her ba--“Errrrrggghhhh!”
Sanders relinquished the Waistlock so she could whip around in front of the other blonde and slap on a grinding Front Facelock. “Keep your eyes on that canvas, little girl.” the Pernicious Platinum Pixie muttered as she stretched out flat on her belly. “I want you familiar with every inch of it, so you’ll know exactly where you are when I start scraping your face against--” Sanders fell silent when the grounded battler planted her hands and made it to all fours despite the veteran’s encroaching weight. From there she wrapped an arm around Ky’s waist and clambered to one knee with an ease Sanders found especially disconcerting considering the amount of pressure she had on the Facelock.
“This all you got?” the Brat huffed. “If there’s more I’d bring it out now. Because you’re not going to last long with OW! OW! OW! Aaaarrrrggghhhh bytch!”
Not afraid to get catty when the opportunity arose, Sanders halved the Facelock so she could reach down and SLAP the other blonde’s rump once, twice, three times! A wedgie followed the spanking, Kylie jerking those sea-green bottoms between the newcomer’s cheeks in a vindictive sawing motion. “I’ve forgotten more than you’ll ever learn.” Kylie explained once she’d returned the Facelock to full strength. “You’ve been lucky so far, sweetie. Lucky to catch me by surprise at AHE, lucky to land a cheap shot at Season’s Beatings. But everyone’s luck runs out eventually. And yours bottoms out tonNNFFHH!”
Braddock looped her arms around the Hawkeye’s waist and squeezed Kylie with a Bear Hug of her own. No trash talk now, the Brat powered to her feet in silence, then reared up and PUSHED offa Sanders’ tummy to break that damned FaceNOOOO!
Kylie pumped her legs and landed on her feet, the Front Facelock STILL grinding away at Braddock’s ears! “THAT’S RIGHT!” Kylie barked over a smattering of applause. “FIGHT IT ALL YOU WANT, BRAT! YOU’RE NOT GOING ANYWHERE UNTIL WHOOOAAHH!”
Kat stood up straight and sent Sanders soaring backward with a single colossal shove. Ky adjusted in mid-air and landed on her feet, the FAWN original only stumbling a pace or two when-- Kat charged in with her right shoulder down low, the rampaging Brat turning her foe inside out with brutal short-range Spear. Landing on her knees beside the matchbooked legend, Braddock shoved Sanders’ legs aside so she could slither across her chest in a Crossbody good for the…
SPEAR:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=_GDxe5CyM0k
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOOO!
Kylie bucked clear with half a second to spare, allowing Jasmine to hop down from the apron without ever being noticed by the official.
While Washington returned to her station near the base of the ring post, concern evident on her face, Chrissy applauded the Brat’s emergence in the match, shouting at Braddock to embarrass Sanders.
Kat shot a quick nod in Daniel’s direction, knee-walking to Ky’s boots and pulling her foe’s slender, alabaster legs wide. Kneeling between the limbs, the rookie placed her hands on the inner thighs of the Hawkeye and proceeded to drop into a vicious Headbutt to Kylie’s privates.
Sanders jolted to a seated position, hazel eyes bulging, cupid’s arrow lips in a wide ‘O’ as the waves of pain emanated from her battered nether region. Kat pulled her head up and stared deep into the veteran’s eyes. Sanders extended plaintive hands, silently pleading with the newbie not to replicate. The teenage, flaxen-haired fireplug winked and dropped ANOTHER butt to Kylie’s crotch, Sanders yelping in anguish as Kat’s forehead PLOWED into her tender mercies.
A grinning Braddock lifted her noggin to peek into Kylie’s watering eyes.
“Chrissy made a name making you her bytch back in the day,” Kat purred. “You’re mine now!”
Still between Ky’s quivering legs, Kat rotated to the right ninety degrees and Scissored Sanders’ left stem while wrapping both palms around the Hawkeye’s right ankle. Kitty blasted, Kylie shook her head, bleating ‘no. ..no...no’ as the rookie stretched the lower limbs into a widening set of splits. Sanders’ head and torso dropped to the canvas, the Platinum Pixie tugging at her silvery bob to spread the pain from her searing groin muscles.
“I hear you take punishment like an Energizer bunny,” Kat grunted. “I’m guessing that battery’s running dry by this point in your career.”
Kat forced the gams to damn near a single file, Kylie howling in agony but spitting out a harried ‘no’ when Al asked if she wanted to cede the match to the millennial.
Pushing her palms into the mat at her sides, Ky elevated and started scooting toward the cables behind her, dragging Kat like an anchor. But after a dozen seconds, Vanilla Chill was able to grab the bottom rope and plead for release.
Jasmine put in her two cents in more emphatic fashion and Carpenter agreed a couple ticks later, demanding the neophyte release her leg spread. At FOUR, Braddock obeyed, releasing and rolling toward the center of the ring where she pushed to her feet and takes a quick glance at a beaming Imp.
Kat returned her attention and watched intently as an aching Sanders used the ropes to pull to a seat, the blonde drawing her limbs together around her throbbing groin. Braddock took off like a shot, going zero to sixty in a few steps and pivoted into a jaw-rocking hip check to Sanders’ face. Kylie’s head and torso snapped back, forced deep into the strands from the impact and The Brat bounded away in the opposite direction after the connection.
The Cali girl skidded to a stop while a shellshocked Ky flopped to her chest and weakly pushed to all fours, hoping to crawl out of harm’s way and into J-Dogg’s pound. Sanders nearly reached the safe zone when Kat snatched an ankle and dragged the squirming, matbound Sanders on her chest to the middle where the rookie released her foe’s limb.
“Don’t tell me you want out already,” Braddock scolded, sending a stomp to Kylie’s ivory-skinned tummy to put Sanders in a fit of retching, Ky’s abs already bruised by the earlier spear.
“I’m sure Bethany could find a cubicle for you in the FAWN front office…if you beg nicely.”
The Brat grabbed Kylie’s right ankle, raising it high. She stepped on the left. Already understanding what the tanned teenager had in mind, again the Platinum Pixie begged off, but the request was of no consequence. Kat laid out, wrecking Chill’s groin in a new and agony-inducing manner with a Wishbone Drop. As the rookie rolled away and popped to her feet, Chrissy and the Chill Haters cheered loudly, Kylie’s hands burying between her pale stems. She collapsed into a fetal ball, appearing totally unable to cope with the onslaught.
From the sidelines, a perplexed Jasmine implored her partner to get up, but Kylie could only rock from side to side, body collapsed around its center. Kat didn’t have all day to wait for a recovery. Instead, she sank a set of nails into the scalp of the FAWN original and tugged her slowly, gingerly to rubbery legs. The Brat stood her legendary foe directly in front of her and proceeded to SLAP the taste out of Sanders’ mouth, Ky’s head swiveling violently.
Sanders’ noggin wobbled on its return, Chill ending nose to nose with the curvy rookie; at least until Kat dipped slightly and wrapped her brawny little arms around the ivory waist of the veteran. With Chrissy’s enthusiastic support ringing in her ears, Braddock cinched her embrace tight, forcing a gasping exhale from the Hawkeye. The vertically-challenged Brat lifted Sanders to toe tips and slightly beyond, the Iowan no tower herself.
The golden-maned grappler rattled the frame of her foe from side to side while keeping the breathtaking Bear Hug tight, an increasingly worried Washington’s face dropping into her hands.
“Come on, Chill,” she shouted into her palms. “Beat on this bytch!”
Perhaps inspired by her partner’s words or simply the fear she’s being squeezed into surrender, Kylie’s arms rose to either side of the rookie’s braincase and the Pleasant Valley Pariah slapped her hands together behind Kat’s cranium. The Ear Ringer stunned Braddock, allowing Kylie’s boot soles to touch canvas.
Sanders shoved the limp arms of the teenager off her, dipped, and swung an arm between the sturdy tanned stems of the newbie. With a loud guttural grunt, Chill vaulted Kat off the canvas and across her shoulders. The crowd prepared for Braddock to find her way to Chilly Valley, Ky driving her there. But instead, the Platinum Pixie started to twirl like a top, taking the wide-eyed Brat for a ride, Kat the propeller in Kylie’s Airplane Spin.
Hardly in the best of shape, Sanders’ pirouettes were ungainly and not particularly fast, but she managed to keep vertical while gyrating in a half-dozen circles until launching Braddock off her shoulders. Kat took another ¾ turn on her own before CRASHING to earth on her face and chest.
Dizzied, the rookie flopped to her back, eyes spinning as she stared into the rafters. At her side, Kylie struggled to appear sober, staggering before managing to fall across Braddock in a Lateral Press for…
ONE…
TWO…
Kat shoved a shoulder up and rolled to her chest, quickly pushing to all fours before hitting a balance barrier, Braddock trying to regain her bearings from the whirlpool-like experience. Sanders was on one knee, shaking out her cobwebs. She dug a set of digits into Kat’s flaxen strands.
“Get your ass up, nobody.” Ky demanded. She tugs Braddock to unsteady feet as she rises.
“I’ve put so many wannabes down through the years.”
Sanders loaded a Chop and landed the wicked reverberating backhand to the blonde’s ample cleavage.
“You’re just another on the list.”
Ky got another ready then delivered it toward the tanned chest of her foe, but Kat ducked under, sending Kylie into a pirouette after the swing and miss. By the time Sanders reached the end of her 360, Braddock was ready with a lifted knee that THUMPED into Kylie’s bosom, sending the Platinum Pixie into a backpedal, only stopping when Chill’s spine hit the buckles of a neutral corner.
The teen terror was immediately after her well-worn adversary, charging Sanders, likely looking to splash Vanilla Chill under an avalanche of Beach Brat. But the wily Kylie dropped to the canvas and was able to use a Drop Toe Hold to send Braddock CRASHING into the corner, Kat faceplanting against the middle buckle.
The dazed newbie spun to a seat on the canvas, back wedged against the buckles, abbreviated legs extended. Seeing an opportunity to Bust the Brat, Kylie wobbled to the opposite corner to the sounds of a whooping J-Dogg. Kylie turned and sprinted toward Kat, hoping to introduce her undercarriage to Braddock’s mug.
A decidedly mixed reaction from the capacity crowd when Sanders went airborne in a low-flying, splay-legged glide that THAWHUMPED her tush against Braddock’s vaunted curves. Cheers of course, it was a cold soul that didn’t love the Bronco Buster, not to mention plenty of boos from those heartbroken Kylie Corps members that simply could not stand to see their former leader flourish under any circumstances. But there was also a strong undercurrent of buzzing surprise and perhaps even a little concern when the former World Champion tumbled backward from her perch without bothering to ‘enjoy the ride’ as it were.
Set on one knee a short distance from the curvaceous ingénue, Ky put a hand to her mistreated trunks and muttered, “Still worth it.”
“You sure about that, Hagatha?” Braddock snarled as she clambered to boot leather. “Looks like that mangy old kitty has seen better days.”
The Iowan rose up, took a half step back, steadied her feet. “Is that what you’re calling your nose?” “Because kitty’s looking for a new place to--”
Kat moved fast, Chrissy’s protégé leading with outstretched claws like she wanted to tear Sanders apart on contact. But what she wanted actually meant very little to Hot & Bothered, which was why Kylie took great delight in taking the charging blonde down with an effortless Drop Toe Hold. Bouncing to her feet immediately thereafter, Sanders ran the ropes directly south of Kat so she could use the grounded Quake like a doormat upon her return, FAWN’s Most Hated making a point to stomp on Kat’s butt, lower back and directly between her shoulders as she made her way to the opposite side of the squared circle.
“Keep your head up, kid!” Chrissy pounded the apron with both hands in an effort to clear the fog from Braddock’s brain. “Don’t let her walk all over--” the rest of the Imp’s well wishes fell by the wayside when a rebounding Kylie went low, caught Kat under the chin and tumbled over her flattened form to wrench her head back at a wicked angle courtesy of a Reverse Rolling Neck Snap!
REVERSE ROLLING NECK SNAP:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=4P9hz-UPe-k
Not a match ender by any means, but it sure didn’t do Braddock’s head any good, nor did her situation improve when Sanders stomped into position off her right shoulder and THWHUMPED a blink and you’ll miss it Leg Drop across her throat. “Any more tips for the freshman, Chrissy?” Kylie taunted once she’d rolled to one knee and ‘flicked’ her trunks back into place. “Or did you exhaust all your advice after ‘pull her hair and rake her tits?’”
Daniel offered a smile that didn’t quite reach her batted eyes. “Don’t forget ‘ruin her nasty crotch’. It was more than enough to put you away when you were in what passed for a prime.”
Sanders didn’t reply with words, rather she shoveled Braddock onto her stomach, then spun her around so that she was facing the elder Beach Cat. Strolling to Kat’s ankles, Kylie planted her left foot between the younger blonde’s stems so she had a convenient post to work with when she grabbed Braddock’s left ankle and folded it into the pit of her right knee. From there she helped herself to Kat’s right foot and pulled her lower leg snug against her waiting left shin. Deathlock complete, she reached for the Brat’s wrists only to have Kat pull them tight under her torso.
“Good move, kid.” Daniel clapped support from her place on the outside. “Now get up on your elbows and follow my voice!”
Braddock complied, or at least started to. She didn’t get much beyond that before Kylie flattened both hands into paddles and CRAAACKED stereo slaps into her ribs.
“Don’t listen to that idiot, kiddo. She’s going to get you hurt.” the veteran advised. “Now give me your hands.”
“Fuuuhhh… f*ck off.” Braddock grunted. “Like I’m going to listen to anything a chronic cushion like you has to say. I wouldn’t hear you even if you used that microphone Dream jammed in your EEEERRRRRRRGGHHHHHHH!”
Kylie braced her left hand between the blonde’s shoulders for balance so she could unleash a hateful torrent of shiv-like punches against Kat’s right flank.
“CLOSED HANDS! CLOSED HANDS, CARPENTER, MAKE HER KNOCK THAT SHYT OFF!” Chrissy barked, the notorious rule breaker suddenly a pillar for sweetness and light now that it was her partner and student suffering beneath Sanders’ white-knuckled assault.
Al moved in to warn her about the infraction, though it proved unnecessary because Ky stopped a couple seconds prior to his arrival. “Watch those hands, Kylie.”
“She should learn to watch her mouth.” the Pernicious Platinum Pixie muttered. She palmed Braddock’s forehead in one hand, hooked two fingers into the rookie’s nose and tuuuuuuuugged until she’d earned a nasal squeal. “She should also learn to give me her freakin’ hands!”
Al started in on the count without bothering for a warning and again it proved a moot point because Kat gave up her defenses to deal with Kylie’s hooks, which in turn caused the Iowan to take command of her wrists instead. “Yeah, that’s more like it!” Kylie craaaaaaaaaanked back on Braddock’s arms to put rough strain on her shoulders and spine with the Surfboard. “Got anything smart to say now?” Sanders spoke to Chrissy rather than Kat. “Choose your words carefully, Imp. Piss me off and I’ll take it out on your Pet Rock here.”
“Who are you trying to fool?” Daniel sneered. “You’re no legend. You’re not even a success story. All you are is a mascot that hung around long enough to earn the respect, or should I say, the pity, of all these losers. Kylie’s hazel eyes narrowed and she put more behind the Surfboard, but the implied threat didn’t stop Chrissy for an instant. “And what did you do when that pity FINALLY turned into something almost like admiration? You pissed it all away! To make matters worse, you took the worst of Baby, mixed it with the worst of LK and threw it all in a blender! Now all you are is the broken down cart holding back a thoroughbred like Washing--”
Sanders yanked back until Kat’s upper body was entirely off the mat. Then she raised her right knee high, planted that foot between the other blonde’s shoulders and stamped down to THAWHUMP Braddock’s face and chest into the canvas with an ungodly Curbstomp. Eyes still locked on Chrissy, Kylie dropped to her knees, rolled Kat onto her back and stretched out across her chest with the far leg hooked tight for…
CURBSTOMP:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=9t5kjf4ctdI
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOOO!
The Brat wrenched her leg free of Sanders’ clutches with half a second to spare. “Not good enough, Ky.” Chrissy said softly. “Your best has NEVER been good enough.”
“I don’t need my best to beat you, Shrimp.” Kylie replied. “And I sure as hell don’t need it to beat this one.”
She tousled Kat’s hair, then helped herself to a handful and peeled the woozy warrior off the deck in stages. Using the hair-hold to keep her steady, Kylie drew a bead on the back of Kat’s head, then tried her damndest to cave it in with a Forearm Smash that CRAAACKED like a rife-shot! Braddock toppled to one knee, caught herself and started to rise, a show of durability that would’ve irked Sanders to no end if she hadn’t already set off for the ropes in front of her reeling adversary. Taking flight from a few steps out, Kylie landed on the second strand and launched herself backward in a flawless Springboard Moonsault Press that--
Kat stepped to one side and THWHAPPED a Forearm Smash of her own into the defenseless expanse of the Iowan’s midsection!
SPRINGBOARD MOONSAUOOOUCH:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=QBV7hCDOJzA
Sanders landed on all fours, as long as you counted one of those as forehead because one arm was already strapped tight to her midsection. Utterly unmoved by the other blonde’s plight, Kat trapped Kylie in a Standing Headscissors, wrapped both arms around her waist and spun her up onto her shoulders. The Pleasant Valley Pariah had just enough time to shake her head ‘no, no, no’ before Braddock rocked back on her heels and PLANTED the veteran on the pine with a cringe-inducing Powerbomb! With Kylie stacked in a Matchbook, Kat sank to her knees and put both hands on the FAWN original’s glutes in the hopes that it’d keep her down through…
POWERBOMB:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=fAAt725Xq24
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOO!
If Kat had nine lives, it seems Kylie Sanders sometimes had ten and Chill used one of them to shift a shoulder a few inches off the canvas to Braddock’s chagrin. Chrissy slammed the mat with both hands in frustration. The sight likely would bring a smile to Ky’s face if she wasn’t only barely aware of the state she’s in.
Absently rolling to her chest, Sanders received a forearm to the back of the head before she could even consider pushing to all fours. The teenager was in tight, breasts on shoulderblades, snaking her arms under and around those of the battered veteran. Skillfully, she laced her fingers behind the neck of FAWN’s Most Hated. Kat yanked back on the Full Nelson while scrambling to a straddling crouch of Chill’s lower back. With her base solidified, Braddock could really leeean back, forcing Kylie to stare into the rafters as she’s curled in a disturbing arc.
But the rookie wasn’t satisfied and, with Chrissy’s urging, she pressed the issue, dropping into a bridge and pointing Ky’s gurls to the lights, Sanders’ wide, watering hazel pools now looking at her own heels such was the incredible stress put on her spinal column.
Long winced at the sight and quickly offered Kylie a way out of the torturous predicament. Jasmine immediately contradicted any thought her partner might give in, shouting out ‘NO F’N WAY’ for the Hawkeye. Kylie was far less enthusiastic in forgoing surrender, but she remained silent in response, biting her lower lip until the youngster unhooked her Nelson and SLAMMED Kylie’s face into the deck.
Sanders’ head bounced off the thinly-covered plywood, eyes turning glassy. The rampaging rookie rolled Kylie to her back and slid slightly down her foe’s frame so she straddled the knees of the Platinum Pixie. Taking aim, Kat fell forward, forehead leading the way into a butt of Sanders’ blood pumper. Striking just left of the cleft of Kylie’s bosom, Braddock sent the Pleasant Valley Pariah into tremors with her ‘Heart Butt’.
Braddock slid up the shuddering form beneath her and secured a Schoolgirl Press, The Brat with her shins on Ky’s biceps, her palms wrapping around wrists, crotch tight to Kylie’s chin. She kept Chill’s shoulders on ice for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOO!
Again, Katrina came a few inches from the third slap of the canvas, but Sanders showed the tenacity for survival that servesdher well whether in the fans’ favor or not. Braddock swept her long golden locks behind her, mumbling and stealing a glance to Daniel as Kylie tried to slither out from under her with limited success.
“She’s a cockroach,” Daniel responded. Chrissy slammed fist to palm. “Squash her like one.”
Braddock grabbed Kylie around the noggin with both hands and drew Sanders to her feet as she rose. Dipping, she slipped an arm between Kylie’s legs and ‘hupped’ the elfin blonde off the canvas, turning her foe and leaning Chill on her right shoulder. The fireplug walked her cargo to within a few feet of her corner and deposited Sanders to the canvas with a stinging Body Slam, Kylie’s frame arching from the force of the impact.
Kat was already striding to the nearby buckles before Ky was fully at rest and, though she’s far from a frequent flyer, Braddock ascended the corner capably, turning to measure her target. Kat raised both arms high and took to the sky, leaping from her perch and diving into a simple but oh so effective Crossbody Splash from the top, crushing Chill’s aching abs underneath.
Kylie jackknifed from the gutting impact while under the curvy blonde then fell flat, but The Brat didn’t go for the pin. Instead, Braddock ripped Kylie to her feet with a handle on the FAWN original’s silvery bob. Switching her grip to a wrist and shoulder, the rookie aimed Ky at the far corner and flung her in that direction with an Irish Whip.
Sanders sped to the buckles, turning into an impactful collision. Chill threw her arms over the top cable on either side to remain upright and that’s a red flag for Braddock to charge. She raced toward Sanders. Jasmine was just below her partner, shouting at Kylie to evacuate the corner, but the platinum blonde couldn’t and The Brat threw her Beachy Crossbody into Kylie’s softened belly.
BEACHY CROSSBODY:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=xNOJH6nphR8
Swinging outside the ring after the collision, Kat prepared to club the back of Kylie’s skull but she could suddenly feel J-Dogg nipping at her heels. Snatching an ankle, Jasmine stole not only Braddock’s attention from her foe, but Washington tugged the blonde fireplug off the apron to the floor. Jas quickly got more than she bargained for when the rookie attacked with a set of windmill slaps to the cleavage of Sanders’ partner.
Staggered, Jasmine backpedaled away from the open-hand attack and into a sprinting Spear from the Imp, Chrissy coming from Washington’s three o’clock to PLOW the African-American grappler into the thinly padded cement from the side, burying Jasmine into a shoulder.
While the Imp cleared any distractions for her charge, Braddock hopped to the apron, slid through the ropes, and grabbed the shoulder of a wandering Sanders, thrusting her back into the corner from which she’s barely emerged. From there, Kat acted the bully, pounding away with forearms and chops, overwhelming the blasted Chill with a Violence Party that returned Kylie to a blistered stupor.
With Ky pliable, Kat lifted one of her foe’s slender, ivory legs and placed the crook of the knee over the middle rope on the left. Braddock quickly did likewise on the right, setting the shellshocked Sanders on a course for Shattered Dreams as Kat skipped to the opposite corner.
Those who knew Chrissy’s arsenal realized something else may be on the way and The Brat proved them right when she charged across the canvas and leapt into a shattering Dropkick to Kylie’s crotch, Chill melted with the power of both boots to her kitty.
Sanders flopped out of her predicament in a forward flip, crashing to canvas and curling into a fetal ball while moaning pitifully. Kat stood over the wreckage, accepting Chrissy’s and the crowd’s applause, clearly favoring the former over the latter.
“Perfect,” Daniel assured, likewise standing over her victim. “Perfect Sand Blaster, Kat.”
Braddock turned to Long and guided him halfway across the ring, inquiring with the official as to whether he also considered the maneuver without flaw. As The Brat distracted Craig, Chrissy pulled an inconspicuous length of chain from her trunks, reached under the bottom cable, and wrapped it around the throat of Sanders.
There’s no Jasmine to point out the chicanery at the moment and Daniel had her fun collapsing Kylie’s airway, Chill’s face turning rosier by the second while Long informed Braddock the Blaster was in fact illegal and should not have been done.
With the Imp depriving Kylie of oxygen for at least half a dozen seconds, Kat apologized, claiming ignorance to the offense and promising never to do it again…today.
Careful to keep her eyes on the action even as she was throttling Sanders to within an inch of her life, Chrissy abruptly pulled the chain away and took her leave, thus ensuring she was several seconds removed from the scene of the crime by the time before Al turned his attention to the corner. “Jeeze Ky, you ok? the ref hurried over, his voice sharp with alarm. “Did you hit your throat?”
Too busy breathing to offer much of a cogent answer, she pointed to her neck and rasped, “Bytch chuuu… choked NNNNGGGHH!”
Sensing an unseemly bout of whininess coming on, Kat bustled by the encroaching zebra and stuffed several boots into her belly before Kylie could finish her accusation. “Hey, back off Kat! She’s in the corner!”
Braddock paused, though she made sure to keep her boot on Sanders’ throat while she focused on the ref. “I know! I just heard her medic alert bracelet and wanted to make sure she could actually get up! See, I’m helping!” The Brat palmed Ky’s ears, gave ‘em a sharp twist and dragged her to boot-leather. Didn’t stop there though, she stuffed a shoulder into the Iowan’s belly and boosted her into a seat on the top rope. Satisfied with the veteran’s perch, Braddock took Kylie’s chin between thumb and forefinger and tilted her head back so she could look her in the eye. “You’re gonna beg me to finish you off, hag. You’re gonna beg and these people are gonna LOVE me for NGH!”
Sanders snatched a handful of hair and jerked Kat in close just to hammer half a dozen punches into the startled teenager’s hairline! Give Braddock credit, she covered up as best she could, but Kylie’s elevated position made the task difficult, especially when FAWN’s most hated switched over to a series of Bionic Elbows administered directly to the crown of her skull.
“HEY!” Chrissy barked to Carpenter. “They’re in the ropes! Make that cheating bytch get outta--”
Kylie doubled down on the hair-hold so she could keep Kat steady while she THWHONKED a Kneelift between her eyes! The younger Quake’s knees buckled but the two-handed grip kept her in place until Kylie halved it and CRAAACKED her across the cheek with an eye-watering Bytch Slap!
That sent Braddock staggering toward the center of the ring, so Kylie scrambled into a crouch on the top turnbuckle. Sparing a quick glance at her old adversary, Sanders blew the Imp a kiss and said, “Don’t you ever get tired of being in my shad--”
Kat rushed in, hopped onto the second rope and snugged a loose Waistlock around the veteran’s hips. Just like that she bridged up and dropped back, the fireplug blonde demonstrating some tricksy lightweight agility with an Avalanche Belly to Belly Suplex that THAWHAMMED Sanders down a good three quarters of the way across the ring!
AVALANCHE BELLY TO BELLY SUPLEX:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=CXlb3YNDN0Y
No theatrics or hesitancy from the ingénue now, Kat scrambled across the canvas in record time to Splash down across the defenseless veteran’s devastated midsection. Bundling Sanders’ legs when they popped up, Braddock leaaaaaaaaaned into the cover while Al and a whole arena full of fans counted…
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOOOOOOO!
Kylie didn’t kick out, she did however manage to drape two fingers from one hand over the bottom rope.
“OH COME ON, PUTZ!” Chrissy hopped onto the apron on the far side of the ring, the Killer Imp apoplectic over a little thing like ‘the rules’ keeping her protégé from winning the match. “That bytch is out! She didn’t grab the ropes, that was just muscle memory!” Sighing with irritation, Carpenter got up and headed over to deal with the encroaching blonde, leaving Braddock to deal with the smoldering ruin of Kylie Sanders.
This arrangement suited Kat just fine, it meant the zebra didn’t notice when she reached into her waistband and surreptitiously removed the salt packet hidden in a tiny little pocket the refs never managed to find. Tearing it open in a single quick motion, she emptied the salt into one cupped palm, then stuffed the wrapper under one elbow pad. (Couldn’t have the striped idiots discovering the evidence, Chrissy was very clear on that point.) Once that was done she bent down, grabbed a handful of that hateful platinum bob and hauled Sanders to her knees.
“No need to be salty, grandma.” the Brat teased her penitent prey. “You had a good run, but it’s over--” a commotion from her six drew Braddock’s attention to outside of the ring, where a resurgent Jasmine Washington had just yanked Chrissy from the apron to the floor. A renewal of CNP hostilities followed immediately thereafter, but Kat felt no need to lend a hand because Chrissy was holding her own just fine and besides, she already had trash to burn.
Eyes alight, she turned around and “NNNNNGGHHHHH!” Kylie palmed the younger blonde’s thighs in both hands and THUMPED the crown of her skull into Braddock’s crotch! Suddenly short of breath, Braddock doubled over, her hands reaching for-- Kylie SLAPPED the back of her rival’s clenched hand, a simple little move that effectively caused Kat to fling the salt into her own face!
She didn’t get all of it, but it was still painful enough to send the Quake rocking back on her heels with both hands knuckling at her eyes. Fighting to stand on legs that felt like they’d give way at any moment, Ky looked around and realized that Carpenter was still occupied with J-Dogg and the Shrimp. This pleased her greatly, so much in fact that she celebrated by THWHAPPING a vicious punt between the rookie’s thighs!
Kat sobbed and started to crumble, she would’ve hit the deck for sure if FAWN’s Most Hated hadn’t stepped in to break her fall with a perfectly-placed Fireman’s Carry. Muscling Braddock onto her shoulders amidst a roar from the crowd, Kylie spun to find Chrissy only to realize Jasmine was pounding her forehead against one of the far ring-posts! That satisfied Sanders just fine, so she popped up on her right foot and laid out that same way to PLANT Braddock on the thinly-sheathed plywood with a Chill Valley Driver! No standard version this, Kylie rolled through the landing to come up crouched on one knee with Kat still strapped across her shoulders!
ROLLING CHILL VALLEY DRIVER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=cIRSL_p7klg
Reclaiming her feet after a few chancy seconds, the FAWN original popped up and laid out again, just THWHUNKING the back of Braddock’s head and shoulders into the canvas. That return trip through Chill Valley left Kat stretched out flat with Kylie pressed down on her chest, the exhausted veteran having held onto her prey’s near leg to turn the landing into a tight pinning predicament. For a moment she thought she’d have to yell for Carpenter’s attention, but the lanky ref had hipped to the situation just prior to the second CVD and dove down beside the action to toll the…
CHILL VALLEY DRIVER HOLD:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=j7KbJMjwGuM
ONE…
TWO…
THREE!
Ky let loose and slopped onto her belly, the Pernicious Platinum Pixie too weary to do anything other than suck wind all through the Announcer’s proclamation. “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner via pin-fall… KYLIE SANDERS!”
Far from besting Chrissy in the battle outside the ring, Jasmine was able to break away from the fight when she heard the announcement of Ky’s victory. She slid into the ring and hopped to her feet, ready to pluck Sanders off the canvas and celebrate, when she saw the Killer Imp coming from the corner of her eye.
Spinning on a dime a couple steps removed from the rubber-coated, steel strands, J-Dogg turnred into a big boot to Daniel’s right temple as Chrissy dipped through the ropes. The stomp sent the Beach Cat careening to the floor, Daniel ending in a semiconscious puddle.
With Chrissy dispatched, Jasmine reached the Platinum Pixie, Kylie on her haunches next to the splayed Braddock. Still in no condition to take spoils, Sanders tugged in oxygen with deep breaths, wearily holding up an arm in victory. Jasmine used the Hawkeye’s limb and a wrapped around of Ky’s shoulders to help Vanilla Chill to vertical. Once there, the spent Kylie drew a hand through her silvery bob and spread the excess of her perspiration to the stirring blonde below.
The slight movement by Kat roused something inside Sanders and she found enough energy to send a series of stomps into all open areas of The Brat until Kat collapsed into a fetal ball, trying to protect herself.
“Bytch! Are you learnin’ somethin’? Cause Da Man can’t save ya from da Chill!”
Adrenaline gone, Kylie huffed to a stop, bent over, hands on her knees.
“You and the Shrimp find a place to hide and stay there or J-Dogg, Kristy, Cosette and I will make ya wish ya never made it off the beach.”
Satisfied, Kylie pushed to her full height, limited as it is, and headed for the exit with Jasmine still at her shoulder, providing steadiness to her gait. H&B slid through the ropes, dropped to the floor and bid adieu to the Quakes, perhaps understanding, like their namesakes, it might be a matter of time before they rattled the roster once more.