Post by dsb on Mar 17, 2019 18:05:31 GMT
Emerging from her handicap battle with Kat and Father Time victorious, Kylie nervously bounces from one boot sole to the other, ready to rewrite her less than glorious history with a fellow future FAWN ‘Famer’. Sanders stands poised at the curtain, ready for her accompaniment to begin, loyal partner massaging her shoulders from behind. J-Dogg whispers encouragement in the blonde’s ear.
Kylie Sanders
Jasmine Washington
“You’re a different person,” Washington assures. “You got this Carolina bytch’s number now. Lay the Chill on her.”
“I got this,” Ky insists, not looking particularly sure of herself.
“Ya cancelled The Brat. Now ya cancel the Shat.”
A beaming grin emerges and the duo shares a high-five. As Hot&Bothered’s anthem ‘Fancy’ brings the crowd to a collective fit of hate-filled jeers, Sanders pushes through, Washington a step behind her.
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O-zpOMYRi0w )
Moving to center stage, Vanilla is flanked by Jasmine, the crowd unleashing their revulsion upon FAWN’s most infamous traitor at damaging decibel levels.
Drawing on echoes of her original gear, Sanders sports a 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 )
On the FAWNtron behind her, ‘‘VANILLA CHILL IN DA HOUSE BYTCHES!’ appears in ten-foot high, gold letters. The Nubian beauty Jasmine shows off her friend and mentor, raising a wrist of the former fan favorite, a blizzard of boos falling.
Sanders heads for the battlefield, Chill seemingly unaware of the haters on the rails. While the Hawkeye makes a bee line, Washington trails, demanding Kylie be given the proper respect the Face of FAWN’s deserves. Bitter former members of the Corps aren’t the least interested in doing so.
Reaching the squared circle, Sanders huddles with Jas, chants of “TROLL” emerging. But even these usual thorns don’t penetrate the tough shell of concentration Ky has in place for tonight’s impending war. She owed Mitchell. Perhaps like no other. And for so long.
With the FAWNatics determined to get a reaction, the booming chant of “TROLL…TROLL…TROLL” echoes and at least draws a scream from Jasmine to Orlando’s unwashed to shut their mouths. Seemingly in a trance, Ky dips through the ropes and moves to the middle. J-Dogg understands no further coaching is necessary and she takes her spot on the floor under Kylie’s corner as the sounds of Iggy and Charli fade from the speakers. The ring announcer picks up where they leave off.
“Our next match is one fall with a 30-minute time limit. From da space where Da Man ain’t got no place…standing five feet four inches tall and weighing in at 112 pounds…Vanilla Chill…Kylie Sanders!”
With no microphone handy tonight, the hyper-focused Sanders raises both arms high and wide then turns toward the upper stage and pounds her palms into her cleavage, the Platinum Pixie showing she’s ready to renew one of FAWN’s most bitter rivalries and make it decidedly less lopsided.
It's funny how memories are triggered. For tonight's match, which could be characterized as something of a "throwback", Cynthia thought it would be a kick to wear her original ring togs for the first time in years. But as she stood there in the backstage semi-darkness in her purple briefs, bikini sports bra with a single strap over her left shoulder, and black and purple ankle boots, the throbbing sound of the thousands-strong crowd on the other side of the curtain, it felt for all the world like she was still just a tender rookie, eager to emerge from the shadows of her sister, Sophie, and especially that of her mother Natalie Roberson Mitchell, a genuine legend of the sport of wrestling...a fact which dear mother was never reluctant to remind the daughter she was perpetually exasperated and/or disappointed with. She always felt butterflies in her tummy before every match...Belle Butler Armstrong (a women who has become even more of a genuine mother than Natalie ever deigned to be) told her that when the days comes she doesn't feel her nerves before a match, that's the say she needs to hang up her boots...but now she felt some of the old insecurities creeping up in the back of her mind. She shook her head to clear them away, musing about the past playing tricks on her.
And then above the din comes a voice through the arena's speakers: "And her opponent, hailing from the Queen City of the South, Charlotte, North Carolina...standing five feet and seven inches, and weighing one hundred and twenty-one pounds...she is CYNTHIAAAAAAA MMMMMMMITCHELLLLLLLLL!" Demi Lovato's "Confident" hits and as the curtain tears open (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cwLRQn61oUY), the crowd roars its approval. Both loved and hated by FAWN fans over the course of her storied career, the Cynful One has forged a bond with them, and tonight they want very much to watch her punish and defeat the woman awaiting her in the ring.
Cynthia Mitchell
Cynthia strides down the aisle, fingertips brushing against many of the outstretched hands. She spots one fan holding aloft a posterboard sign that reads, CYNTHIA RULES AND SCHOOLS, KYLIE MEWLS AND DROOLS!, and she blows her admirer a kiss. Climbing up the ringside steps, Mitchell walks along the edge of the apron to the middle of the ropes, then steps between the middle and top cables, moving slooooooooowly enough for fans...and the cameras...to get a good eyeful of what many consider to be the most perfect rear end in FAWN. Cyn may be a face again these days, but she still knows how to play the crowd like the mesmerizing of heel she once was.
Both combatants are called to the center of the ring for their final instructions, but they are each deaf to the zebra. Instead, eyes locked, they silently glare threats and insults at one another. Perhaps chafed by her adversary's height advantage, Kylie seems to try to counter it by thrusting out her admittedly impressive décolletage, which simple prompts Mitchell to smirk. The technicalities established, both women are sent to their corners to await the opening bell.
With blonde and brunette striding to their opposite starting points, Kylie spins on a dime halfway to her supposed destination and rushes Mitchell from behind. Sanders shoves Cynthia in the back, Mitchell sent lurching into the buckles chest first.
Knowing things are only going downhill from here, Nick Castle calls for the bell to start the match with the Platinum Pixie wailing away at the back of Mitchell’s noggin. Pressed tightly into the corner by Kylie, Cynthia tries to turn and face her long-time rival but the Hawkeye does her best to make sure it doesn’t happen.
Castle scolds Kylie, demanding she let Cynthia out of the corner and Sanders turns to tell where Nick can stick it. Just that minute break in concentration allows Mitchell to swing an elbow and CRACK it into Kylie’s left cheek, her head swinging away from the impact.
Sanders staggers down the length of the ropes, grasping at the top cable to guide her. Behind her, a steaming Cynthia shakes her senses back into place with a waggle of her braincase and sprints toward the opposite strands. The brunette rebounds and races across the canvas, NAILING Vanilla Chill with a clothesline, sending Kylie backflipping over the ropes and pinwheeling to the floor below.
The crowd roars with delight watching Kylie crash and burn. With a look of concern firmly planted on her features, Jasmine hustles around the outside to help her partner. She bundles the bewildered Sanders to her feet, Chill leaning into J-Dogg, using the Nubian beauty as her crutch.
Sensing she can get two of Hot&Bothered for the price of one, Mitchell again heads for the far cables and uses the rubber-coated steel to gain momentum and u-turn toward her targets. Lifting off a few feet from the ropes, Cynthia splits the top and middle, diving suicide-style into old foe and new. The partners are sent backpedaling from the impact, their spines crashing into the steel barricade behind them in stereo, Chill and Dogg sliding down the metal to pool at its base.
Mitchell, landing on her feet, hovers over them, milking the FAWNatics for all their worth, whipping them into a frenzy before plucking Jasmine out of the pile. The brunette draws Washington into a bearhug, lifting Jas off the floor suplex-style. But instead of sending her up and over, she delivers Jasmine back the way she’d come, dropping her ebony midriff over the top of the barrier, gutting Sanders’ guardian, Jasmine going bugeyed as she’s draped over the barricade, hung out to dry.
Kylie, using the down time to her advantage, grabs a shoulder and wrist of the successful but distracted Mitchell and aims her at the steel steps. She flings Cynthia with an Irish whip with enough force the Carolina native can do little more than ball up as her right shoulder BANGS into the metal edifice, knocking it off kilter and perhaps knocking her arm out of alignment as well.
Castle, already up to ‘SIX’, takes time between that and ‘SEVEN’ to insist Kylie bring the match back inside the confines, but the furious blonde is lost in her nagging need for revenge in the worst way. Not even hearing the man, she pulls Mitchell up to a kneeling position and sinks both sets of nails into her foe’s lush dark locks. Pulling Mitchell’s head back, Ky CLANGS it into the steel of the middle step, the assembled reflexively groaning in worry for the Hellion. The Cynful One flops to her back and Sanders dives atop her in a Thesz Press, battering away with closed fists.
So focused on retribution is the Platinum Pixie, she can’t hear the roar of the crowd as they acknowledge the arrival of Belle’s original Hellion, the Bama Slamma herself, Ivy Armstrong. In her battle gear, Ivy shoulderblocks Kylie off her bestie, the women sent rolling off the splayed Cynthia.
Ivy Armstrong
With their talons bared, Chill and the Sweet Home’s Crimson Angel tear into each other, each rolling to topside before quickly being supplanted. Neither woman, and certainly not the semi-conscious Cynthia, notice Castle reach ‘TEN’ and wave wildly to the timekeeper.
The tolling of the bell draws a sideways glance from each as Sanders and Armstrong battle to their feet and trade haymakers. Only when the announcer makes it official that the match has been ruled a double disqualification does Chill become sidetracked enough for Ivy to nimbly fold Sanders’ right arm up and back on itself to clear a path and DRIVE A HEART PUNCH in deep, just to the left of the cleft of Kylie’s bosom.
Sanders’ hazel eyes cross, her body shuddering. Chill’s legs turn to jelly as she melts to her haunches, arms limp at her sides. As an enraged Ivy is about to pile on, she gets tackled from the side by the rest of Hot&Bothered, Kristy Sanders and Cosette LeBlanc taking Armstrong out before she can finish putting Kylie into a catatonic state.
Kristy Sanders
Cosette LeBlanc
Ky’s cousin and the former Huggable partner of Sanders the Original peel Belle’s daughter off the floor and deliver stereo knee lifts to the ivory tummy of the Slamma, doubling Armstrong at the waist while lifting her to tiptoes. They secure the redhead in dual front facelocks and lift her off the thinly-padded cement, sending her up and over with a teaming suplex. But Ivy doesn’t crash to a spine-torturing collision. Instead, Cynthia’s Carolina kin, long-time vet and returnee from a tour de force run through the arenas of Italy Sophie Mitchell and next gen crowd sweetheart Skylar catch Armstrong and set her down safely.
Sophie Mitchell
Skylar Mitchell
Unfortunately, in taking the time to do so, when they turn their sights back to the H&B B-team, Kristy and Cozy THWACK simultaneous super kicks into the chins of the Sisters Mitchell. The Real Deal timbers the taller Soph while the diminutive French waterbug does the honors with the Lil’est Mitchell.
As two-thirds of Natalie Roberson Mitchell's progeny topple like redwoods and lay splayed upon the concrete arena floor, the One Woman Minnesota Wrecking Crew and the Nymph from Not-So-Nice, France pounce down upon them, each cocking a fist in preparation for raining a flurry of blows to their victims' glassy-eyed mugs. Yet before the first fist can be cuffed to either finely featured face, Kristy and Cosette each find a hand curling itself around their manes, and both are roughly yanked up off of Soph and Sky. An instant later they find their noggins clonked together, courtesy of Cynthia, leaving the intruders knock-kneed and cross-eyed. This development gives Cynthia a few precious moments to try and rouse her sisters, as Kristy and Cozy weave around, each trying to clear the sudden fog in their skulls.
Somewhat shakily, Sophie and Skylar climb back up to their feet, just in time to find Kristy and Cosette not only suitably recovered, but now joined by Kylie, who despite the bright red impact mark atop the cleft of her orbs, appears spoiling for a fight yet again. The Mitchell’s ally in this impromptu battle royal, Ivy, had just moments before begun to make her way back into the battle...only to be felled by a clanging steel chair to the back of her head, courtesy of Jasmine.
With J-Dogg poised to take out another Hellion, namely Cynthia, with the folded furniture, Mitchell turns into a spinning wheel kick, nailing one side of the seatpan, sending the other side CLANGING into Washington’s features. Jasmine drops as if shot, flat on the floor, unconscious, the chair still in place over her face and chest.
In the midst of this riotous affair, with no hope remaining of getting anyone back into the ring, the broadcast producer has ordered more cameramen down to cover the action, so that at least the fans sitting in the pricey ringside seats on the other side of the ring can watch the monitors and see what's happening. Tellingly, neither additional referees nor FAWN security personal are dispatched; Bethany Christian has apparently decided to see how all of this plays out.
Both remaining threesomes glare warily at one another, poised to launch into battle at a moment's notice. No breath is wasted on threats as all six pant for breath, perspiration glistening across their bodies. So focused are the two sides on one another, none of them pay heed to the sudden sharp increase in volume to the already near-deafening cacophony of the thousands-strong crowd. With their backs turned to the runway, Team Kylie are unaware of the two figures now racing down the aisle...but they are made agonizingly aware of the entry of two new players, as Maeve and Moira Kane nail Cozy and Kristy from behind with axe blows between their shoulder blades, dropping them both to their hands and knees. But an instant later, it becomes apparent that this assault is not meant to tip the favor to Cynthia's side, but rather only to remove two impediments from the Riuil Kanes reaching their real targets...Sophie and Skylar! Moira spears Skye and they both fall to the floor, where the Irish blonde starts jacking her right fist again and again into her target's jaw.
Maeve Kane
Moira Kane
However, redheaded Maeve's efforts are not as rewarding, as the highly experienced Sophie is keen enough to side-step the spear, sending the elder Kane slamming into the steel ring barrier. Soph lunges for her, and the two longtime nemeses rip at one another's hair as they stumble around ringside, their eternal hatred reducing these two veteran warriors into savage hellcats!
Ignoring all of this, Cynthia and Kylie tear into each other. After several moments of inconclusive brawling, Mitchell tries for a kick to her adversary's belly, but Sanders catches her foot; but a heartbeat later, a leaping Cyn connects with her other boot right upside Ky's cranium. The blonde doesn't collapse, but she does reel backward, eyes spinning in their sockets. Cynthia presses her advantage...but is halted in her tracks by a cobra-swift Eyepoke of Doom from her foe. Needing breathing space, Kylie opts for a very FAWNian strategy: Sanders steps up behind Cyn and grasps hold of her opponent's halter top, unhooking it and, with a yank, tearing it off. This sets the alpha males at ringside frothing at the mouth as they are rewarded with a close-up view of Mitchell's more-than-satisfactory bounty. Which suits Sanders just fine.
Muscling the still-bleary eyed Cynthia over to the barrier, Kylie wraps her arms around the brunette's waist, and with a grunt, hoists her up and throws her over the steel rail, to the feet of the fans. Ky knows from bitter personal experience how those knuckle dragging mouth breathers will "help" Cynthia back over, their hands pawing all over her as they grope and squeeze every damned inch of her body. Whatever fuel in the tank the North Carolinian still has will be spent just pulling free of that pack of jackals.
Turning to survey the carnage all around her, Kylie sneers, "Time to take out the rest of the trash", and she goes over to rouse her troops, so they could deal with everyone not a part of Hot&Bothered. Whether any additional surnames will be added to the belligerent bouillabaisse is anyone’s guess.
Still, it can hardly be considered a surprise when others join the party, though when the crowd reflexively turns to movement at the upper stage, they are likely surprised to find a woman relegated to FAWN’s ‘dark match’ scene and a denizen of the Jungle.
Honey Harris and Sid Duffy, in tank tops and denim, aren’t about to let the Mitchells and Ivy become victims to the numbers game. Circumstances put the women backstage and fate allows them a chance to intervene. Honey and Sid barrel down the ramp at full speed, a majority of the crowd knowing Harris, less so The Kid. And if Honey’s past FAWN forays were indicative of future performance, there might not be a lot the two could do.
Honey Harris
Sid Duffy
That idea is quickly set aside when the duo SLAMS into Kristy and Cozy from behind. The new arrivals tackle them to the deck as Kylie’s backup is about to help the Kanes in their war against Sophie and Skye.
Mounting Kristy’s waist, Duffy pounds away with punches that Kylie’s cousin does her best to block with some success.
Cosette manages to scramble to her feet after the Harris takedown. She turns to face the blonde, but Honey is surging toward her. She grabs Cozy’s noggin on the fly-by and drops to her back, sending her knees BANGING into the Frenchwoman’s skull. Cosette flops to her back, dark eyes glazed from Honey’s Trap.
Honey Trap ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=AszkGgipGKA )
The Black Sheep of the Sanders’ clan fights her way out from under Sid and swings a scythe-like clothesline at Sid. But Duffy deftly ducks beneath the blow, leaving Kristy to pirouette through the swing and miss. Face to face once more, Sid draws the off-balance Kristy close. Dipping, she wraps her arms under Kristy’s glutes and lifts Sanders off the floor, only to Drop her Atomically, splitting Kristy’s wickets and leaving the Real Deal frozen, hands burying between her thighs.
Snatching the head of the Sanders into a front facelock, Duffy lays out and DRIVES Kristy’s skull into the barely-padded concrete, the completion of her Double Duffy, leaving Part Deux face down and out cold.
Double Duffy (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HF5_i7aRBwc )
With the flood gates apparently opened, Belinda Brooks, Sid’s bitter rival in Bangor is sprinting to ringside, the ‘Breathtaking’ Hawaiian with a bead on her long-time adversary.
Belinda Brooks
A frantic Kylie, clearly concerned at the beehive of bodies flying around her and the sight of her H&B crew in various states of lack of consciousness, slides into the ring and backpedals to the ropes opposite from the melee.
It seems a wise decision when Rio’s most glimmering set of ‘Pearls’ Luisa Campos decides it an opportune stage to gain some air time, heading down the ramp just as Belinda CRASHES into Sid with a forearm smash to the back of her fellow Jungle fighter’s noggin.
Luisa Campos
Honey turns to the arrival of Brooks and grabs a wrist and elbow of her fellow blonde before Belinda can wail on Sid. But payback on the Jungle native is interrupted by Campos. Her catty nature showing through, Luisa latches onto Honey’s golden locks and tugs her off Brooks, apparently claiming Harris as her ‘sparring partner’.
Luisa throws Honey under the bottom ropes and follows her into the squared circle. Both women scramble to their feet. An advancing Kylie backs away at that sight, having missed her chance to attack while the late arrivals are down.
With Harris distracted by FAWN’s Most Hated, Luisa grabs a wrist and heaves Honey toward a set of buckles, quickly following behind after launching the Brit with an Irish whip. Harris manages to jump to the middle ropes instead of crashing into the corner. She leaps blindly toward the startled Campos who catches her around the waist from behind.
Honey acrobatically flips her body forward, gathering enough momentum to deliver Luisa face first to the middle buckle with her Honeycomb Facebuster.
Honeycomb facebuster (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jvYbM5AEyIE )
Senses rattled, the Brazilian remains in a wide kneel, arms flung over the middle ropes. Honey pops to her feet to the roar of the crowd. But the noise quickly turns to squeals of concern as Kylie approaches from the Brit’s six with a raised double axhandle.
Harris turns with a toe kick ready, gutting the Platinum Pixie, leaving Sanders doubled at the waist. Honey collects Ky in a rugged double underhook. She dips and vaults Chill off her shoe leather, sending Kylie up and partially over, dropping Sanders on the back of her cranium. But Honey follows the Pleasant Valley Pariah’s somersault and ends in Kylie’s lap with a Butterfly Lock in place, Harris dropping the Honey Pot on Sanders.
Honey Pot (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tbxnz-9M5SA )
With Castle long gone and no submission to be had, Harris is free to rattle Kylie’s braincase from side to side, the crowd roaring with delight, Sanders’ arms becoming progressively limp at her sides.
Thankfully for Vanilla Chill, Pearls comes to her rescue, Luisa CRASHING a raised knee into the back of Honey’s head, Harris’ hold immediately sloughing off Ky, both blondes melting to their sides.
In the scrum on the outside, Maeve and Sophie’s battle has taken a curvy turn for the worse for the eldest Mitchell. The flaxen-haired Kane has a seat on Sophie’s lap, Maeve’s legs scissoring Sophie, but more dangerously, a front sleeper grip is tightly applied, Mitchell’s face enveloped by the emerald lycra thinly coating Maeve’s vaunted rack.
Sophie flails wildly, buried in the flesh, while the Lil’est Mitchell’s has turned the tables on Moira.
Skye scissors Kane’s left limb in an arm bar while draping over the fans’ side of the steel barricade.
Armbar (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OLkRFXb6ixE ) (over the barricade rather than the ropes)
Moira howls in pain, trying to wrest her limb from the determined scrapper. Skylar’s more accomplished sister, having reacquired her top courtesy one of the lesser lascivious FAWNatics, places it back across her bounty.
Cynthia, in the front row, measures a pointed elbow toward Moira’s extended shoulder and DRIVES it into the vulnerable joint, Kane shrieking in agony from the dual attack on her searing limb.
Elsewhere, the Jungle natives, Sid and Belinda, tear into each other with abandon as they battle around the recovering Ivy and Jasmine, alabaster redhead and ebony warrior still shaking off their concussive chair shots.
Back in the confines, Luisa pulls a dazed Harris to her feet, capturing the bent Honey in a chinlock that is amplified when Pearls wraps her long charcoal locks around the throat of the Brit. Campos twists so the grapplers are back to back then lays out, DESTROYING Honey with her Pearl Necklace finisher.
Pearl Necklace (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-aBLoTdfSoU )
Luisa leans into the demolished Harris, sitting against the blonde’s prone form with a smirk. But her lips crease with aggravation when she sees a tiny Mexican who’d received a cup of coffee in FAWN but currently uses her speed to tear up the Jungle. Well known to Campos in several battles south of the border, Shosana Soto or Lil So-So is a blur on her way to battle, diving in under the bottom ropes to join a rising Luisa.
Soshana Soto
With Kylie, clearly not right, languidly draping across the body of Harris, presumably hoping for a pin in her confused state, SoSo and Campos have the ring to themselves in terms of a battleground.
Pearls reaches for her foe’s locks as the Mexican approaches and the already vertically-challenged Soto easily slips under, using a dropkick to Luisa’s right shin to force Campos to genuflect. Kipping to her feet, La Pequeno Dimamita leaps, little legs extended, wrapping them around the head of the Brazilian. In a show of lucha artistry, Soshana backflips and DDTs Luisa’s forehead into the deck with a low-rise hurricarana, Pearls absently flopping to her back from the impact.
With Campos in a stunned starfish next to her, Soto kips to her feet again, drawing a roar from the crowd. In quick succession, she lowers her signature Boom, Boom, Boom with an elbow drop to Luisa’s chest, a leg drop across her foe’s throat and a standing splash across Campos’ bronzed tummy.
With Luisa set up for a finale, Soshana climbs the buckles nearest the splayed Pearls ready to set off her ‘Boom Goes the Dynamite’ elbow drop from the top and make certain Campos out for the night.
But the little, lethal Lucha forgets the Platinum Pixie has quite the recovery powers. As Soto reaches her perch and turns to target Luisa, Chill dives to the ropes beside SoSo, rattling the cables and knocking her off balance. Soto tumbles from her station, one leg on either side of the uppermost strand. The rubber-coated steel RAMS into her crotch and things only get worse when Kylie grabs the rope and sets it bouncing, giving Soshana the most painful ride of her life.
The terror train picks up its next passenger as Chill continues to torture Lil So-So, the run of next generation wrestlers broken by the veteran MMA star and FAWN grappler Mercy Ellis.
Mercy Ellis
Apparently having seen enough of Sanders’ surviving and even thriving in the mayhem, Ellis isn’t having it any longer. She sprints down the ramp with only one of the myriad of women on her mind. With others incapacitated or occupied, Mercy has a fairly straight line to the ring.
Inside, Kylie has SoSo stretched out from the top rope, the Mexican’s ankles hooked over the top rope with Chill in control of the little Lucha via a front facelock, ready to DDT her from the top cable.
Thankfully for the Jungle native, Mercy dives in under the bottom rope, plucking Kylie’s left ankle even as she enters, ripping Sanders off her feet and freeing Soshana in the process, Soto lightly tumbling to the deck on a shoulder and rolling out of the ring.
As Ellis scrambles to her feet with the Hawkeye’s ankle still in her possession, Mercy wraps her arms around the joint and twists as if she’s meaning to remove Kylie’s foot from the rest of her lower limb. Chill howls in pain, cursing at Ellis as she tries to squirm free. It’s a hopeless task with the expert MMAer on the other end of the ankle lock.
“I should put you on the shelf forever,” Mercy threatens. “But maybe you can learn the error of your ways in six months.”
While Ellis threatens Kylie with a trip to Orlando General’s Orthopedics Department, Belinda continues to fight for an advantage with Sid ‘The Kid’, Brooks powering Duffy into a fireman’s carry then tossing/shrugging Duffy off her shoulders, Sid plummeting to the genuflecting Belinda’s knee, her gut BUSTED by the blonde.
Brooks pushes Sid off her bony joint, a gasping Duffy ending on her back, hugging her tummy as she tries to draw in as much oxygen as she’s able. The buxom blonde dives atop Duffy in a full body pin, wrapping her arms under and around Sid’s head. The blonde forces her foe’s face into the lowering cleavage of the Hawaiian breathtaker, Belinda simultaneously grapevining Sid’s legs, as The Kid flails wildly trying to escape Brooks’ oxygen-stealing, front sleeper.
A woman who has been at the scene of the crimes from the very beginning, Jasmine Washington, is partially recovered from ‘eating’ steel courtesy the Cynful One. No more than a step away, the Bama Slamma, who’s been the recipient of a con-chair-to from J-Dogg is on rubbery legs for the first time in a while herself.
The green eyes of Armstrong are like emerald lasers and Kylie’s partner feels the full brunt, throwing up a left hand plaintively, begging off the flushed and furious redhead.
“Darlin’, you are so gonUHHHH”
Ivy’s threat is cut off as Jasmine pulls the folding chair from behind her with her right hand and impales the Crimson Angel with the top. A bugeyed Ivy is doubled at the waist, mouth agape, having fallen to Jasmine’s chair-work once more. With Armstrong bent over, Washington swings for a home run and CRASHES the chair down on the back of Ivy’s head and shoulders, leaving Ivy face down and twitching, her night ended emphatically.
With Armstrong down and out, Jasmine finds a target of opportunity, nailing the back of Belinda’s braincase with a stomp. Momentarily stunned, Belinda’s arms loosen from around Sid’s noggin. Unfortunately for ‘The Kid’, she’s already been put to bed by Brooks’ bosom and its breathtaking bulk.
Grabbing Belinda’s wrists, Jasmine pulls Brooks’ upper half off Duffy and shifts Belinda 45 degrees to the left. Regaining enough of her senses to understand the dire straits she’s in, Belinda warns whoever has her there will be a steep price to pay if…
J-Dogg apparently isn’t concerned with working on credit and curbstomps Belinda’s flawless features into the thinly padded cement, putting her in dreamland next to the woman she’d placed there moments before.
With Wash having dispatched a couple gatecrashers, her dark eyes turn to the ring confines and see Mercy working over her partner’s ankle, Kylie pleading and tapping the canvas for all she’s worth in Ellis’ ankle lock. Jasmine realizes there’s one more white girl wannabe to knock into next week. She slides under the bottom rope in Mercy’s six, rising and ready to pounce.
As Jasmine readies to turn the tables on the inside, more and more of the rioting participants are being left comatose on the out.
Cosette and Kristy, after lengthy forced naps, try to reacquaint themselves with full awareness, but Skye and Cynthia, having left Moira with one working arm and having tossed her into the laps of the front row, are tracking Kylie’s crew.
A whistle from the plucky Skylar turns both staggering members of Hot&Bothered toward the Mitchell sisters. The Lil’est member of the family doesn’t mess around, bringing Greetings From Charlotte, Skye’s superlative superkick catching Cosette under the chin.
The former Huggable straightens board-like from the impact, the rigid LeBlanc timbering to the floor, sent back to bed only moments after regaining her feet.
Kristy isn’t any more fortunate with Cynthia. Mitchell rocks Sanders Part Deux with a forearm to the jaw. With Kristy glassy-eyed, The Cynful One secures Kristy’s left hand in a pumphandle pressed tight to the blonde’s crotch. Collecting the Black Sheep around the opposite shoulder, Cynthia launches Kylie’s cousin off the deck, flipping her forward, and DROPPING Sanders on the back of her braincase with the Original Cyn.
Original Cyn (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rxb0bwxjANM )
Even the jaded in the crowd groan at the sight of Cynthia’s finisher applied on the thinly padded concrete and it’s no surprise when Kristy splays to an oblivious starfish next to the focused second-generation superstar.
While Hot&Bothered suffer a stinging double setback on the outside, Kylie wails without reservation within, tapping and pleading, tears streaming down her face. Still, Ellis is not convinced Sanders has yet paid the appropriate price for escaping an IC title match with Mercy by getting herself DQd against the ex-MMAer.
Finally, the blonde decides to relent to the disappointment of the FAWNatics. Ellis plucks a whimpering Sanders off the canvas, placing Kylie on her haunches in a widespread kneel. “Consider yourself lucky, Sanders. You’re Angel of Mercy has arrived.”
Mercy takes off to the ropes to Ky’s side. She leaps toward the penitent Kylie, right leg raised to bring down a guillotine-like blow on the back of Chill’s skull when Jasmine intercepts de-cleating Ellis with a wicked spear from the side, crashing into Mercy’s left ribs and PLANTING her viciously into the canvas.
“Bytch, don’t even think you’re ending H&B’s night,” Washington growls.
Jas plucks the flattened Ellis of the canvas. J-Dogg dips and ducks her head between Mercy’s legs and lifts Ellis off her feet, draping the blonde down her back, wrapping her arms around the back of Mercy’s knees.
Snarling, Jasmine says night-night to Kylie’s tormentor with her Ass Backwards Driver, SPIKING the crown of Mercy’s skull into the deck like a lawn dart.
Ass Backwards Driver (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=slN0_8QaRuI )
Ellis lies in a single file coma behind the kneeling, smiling Jasmine, who dramatically wipes her hands clean. Washington pushes to her feet, satisfaction written all over her features. But her face suddenly twists in pain when the newly entered Cynthia drives a toe kick deep into her ebony midriff, J-Dogg bent at the waist and gasping, mouth agape.
With practiced precision, Mitchell secures one underhooked arm then the other of the frozen Wash. Cynthia leaps into the air and PLANTS Jasmine’s face into the deck with her iconic Drop Out, J-Dogg left face down, a shudder passing through her frame before she falls still, out cold from the Carolinian’s finisher.
The brunette hops to her feet in front of J-Dogg’s body, the ring nearly as scattered with demolished forms as the outside. Knowing she’s finished off the final member of H&B Cynthia rises triumphantly, arms raised above the mass and mess of humanity.
But the most renowned Mitchell doesn’t seem to understand Kylie’s night wasn’t quite ended by Ellis. Having bailed after escaping Mercy’s wrath, Sanders has returned with a chair in her possession and the celebrating Cynthia turns right into a gutting stab with the folded furniture. With Cyn bent in front of her, Kylie brings the metal down on the back and skull of Mitchell. Somehow, though Cynthia’s back arches in agony, she remains upright.
Vanilla Chill means to solve that problem, sidling alongside Cynthia, the women headed in opposite directions. Showing some strength remains in the battered Sanders, Kylie heaves Cynthia high into the air with a gutwrench then sits out and POWERBOMBS Mitchell atop the carcass of Ellis, leaving the women a comatose crisscross.
Child of the Corn (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9UckX7ScRcY )
Kylie sits in exhaustion next to the demolished Mitchell, tossing her lifeless legs away. The Platinum Pixie scans the arena, Bethany apparently having put the kibosh on any more combatants. Of the precious few that remain ambulatory, Kylie recognizes the top-heavy Maeve Kane, the runt of the Mitchell clan, and someone she could not place.
Skylar and the curvy Maeve continue the battle between FAWN royal families, each woman pumping away, fist after fist connecting, the crowd cheering and booing alternately, Maeve taking the heat for beating on one of FAWN’s beloved Sweethearts.
Both women finally run out of steam after a dozen blows each way, blonde and brunette leaning into the other, shoulder against shoulder. And the remaining party crasher Lil So-So takes advantage, leaping into a dropkick that NAILS each fighter and sends the entwined grapplers tumbling over the barricade, crashing into Moira, causing a three-way pile-up in the front row.
Soshana turns to see a swath of un and semiconscious women around her. Only an oblivious Kylie is vertical and she wobbles mid-ring among many of her apparent victims. The little Mexican makes sure Kylie will be the last one of the night, leaping to the apron then bounding to the top rope, using it as a springboard to take out FAWN’s Most Hated and leave a statement Lil So-So demands a return to the main roster.
Soto skies toward the Platinum Pixie, but in this case it’s Platinum Possum. With Soshana airborne, Sanders pivots and catches Lil So-So across her shoulders in a fireman’s carry.
Kylie seamlessly barrel rolls to the right and PLANTS Soshana into the deck with a violent Chilly Valley Driver, the ring rattling with the collision of the young Mexican.
Unsure Soto’s demolition leaves her the last woman standing, Ky makes it to her haunches next to the vanquished Soto and takes a look around the area. There are a few squirming bodies, but when Kylie reaches her feet, she’s the only one upright. Ky drags Lil So-So’s body atop Cynthia and Mercy and puts a boot on top of the three-scoop sundae.
“My company. MINE!” Chill bellows.
The words seem to prompt the delivery of FAWN’s flunky squad, no doubt sent by Bethany Christian, making clear she still has ultimate control. The men scatter throughout the wreckage, making sure there won’t be any further mayhem. A few enter Kylie’s confines, demanding she back off from those waylaid.
Kylie shrugs in agreement, though she does scoop up Jasmine, helping her home girl to her feet and exiting the squared circle together.
As they depart, Kylie lets everyone know who outlasted the Mitchells, Ivy and all those trying to steal her spotlight.
“This is a Chilly World,” Chill shouts as she and J-Dogg leave the carnage behind, “and you losers are just livin’ in it!”
Kylie Sanders
Jasmine Washington
“You’re a different person,” Washington assures. “You got this Carolina bytch’s number now. Lay the Chill on her.”
“I got this,” Ky insists, not looking particularly sure of herself.
“Ya cancelled The Brat. Now ya cancel the Shat.”
A beaming grin emerges and the duo shares a high-five. As Hot&Bothered’s anthem ‘Fancy’ brings the crowd to a collective fit of hate-filled jeers, Sanders pushes through, Washington a step behind her.
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O-zpOMYRi0w )
Moving to center stage, Vanilla is flanked by Jasmine, the crowd unleashing their revulsion upon FAWN’s most infamous traitor at damaging decibel levels.
Drawing on echoes of her original gear, Sanders sports a 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 )
On the FAWNtron behind her, ‘‘VANILLA CHILL IN DA HOUSE BYTCHES!’ appears in ten-foot high, gold letters. The Nubian beauty Jasmine shows off her friend and mentor, raising a wrist of the former fan favorite, a blizzard of boos falling.
Sanders heads for the battlefield, Chill seemingly unaware of the haters on the rails. While the Hawkeye makes a bee line, Washington trails, demanding Kylie be given the proper respect the Face of FAWN’s deserves. Bitter former members of the Corps aren’t the least interested in doing so.
Reaching the squared circle, Sanders huddles with Jas, chants of “TROLL” emerging. But even these usual thorns don’t penetrate the tough shell of concentration Ky has in place for tonight’s impending war. She owed Mitchell. Perhaps like no other. And for so long.
With the FAWNatics determined to get a reaction, the booming chant of “TROLL…TROLL…TROLL” echoes and at least draws a scream from Jasmine to Orlando’s unwashed to shut their mouths. Seemingly in a trance, Ky dips through the ropes and moves to the middle. J-Dogg understands no further coaching is necessary and she takes her spot on the floor under Kylie’s corner as the sounds of Iggy and Charli fade from the speakers. The ring announcer picks up where they leave off.
“Our next match is one fall with a 30-minute time limit. From da space where Da Man ain’t got no place…standing five feet four inches tall and weighing in at 112 pounds…Vanilla Chill…Kylie Sanders!”
With no microphone handy tonight, the hyper-focused Sanders raises both arms high and wide then turns toward the upper stage and pounds her palms into her cleavage, the Platinum Pixie showing she’s ready to renew one of FAWN’s most bitter rivalries and make it decidedly less lopsided.
It's funny how memories are triggered. For tonight's match, which could be characterized as something of a "throwback", Cynthia thought it would be a kick to wear her original ring togs for the first time in years. But as she stood there in the backstage semi-darkness in her purple briefs, bikini sports bra with a single strap over her left shoulder, and black and purple ankle boots, the throbbing sound of the thousands-strong crowd on the other side of the curtain, it felt for all the world like she was still just a tender rookie, eager to emerge from the shadows of her sister, Sophie, and especially that of her mother Natalie Roberson Mitchell, a genuine legend of the sport of wrestling...a fact which dear mother was never reluctant to remind the daughter she was perpetually exasperated and/or disappointed with. She always felt butterflies in her tummy before every match...Belle Butler Armstrong (a women who has become even more of a genuine mother than Natalie ever deigned to be) told her that when the days comes she doesn't feel her nerves before a match, that's the say she needs to hang up her boots...but now she felt some of the old insecurities creeping up in the back of her mind. She shook her head to clear them away, musing about the past playing tricks on her.
And then above the din comes a voice through the arena's speakers: "And her opponent, hailing from the Queen City of the South, Charlotte, North Carolina...standing five feet and seven inches, and weighing one hundred and twenty-one pounds...she is CYNTHIAAAAAAA MMMMMMMITCHELLLLLLLLL!" Demi Lovato's "Confident" hits and as the curtain tears open (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cwLRQn61oUY), the crowd roars its approval. Both loved and hated by FAWN fans over the course of her storied career, the Cynful One has forged a bond with them, and tonight they want very much to watch her punish and defeat the woman awaiting her in the ring.
Cynthia Mitchell
Cynthia strides down the aisle, fingertips brushing against many of the outstretched hands. She spots one fan holding aloft a posterboard sign that reads, CYNTHIA RULES AND SCHOOLS, KYLIE MEWLS AND DROOLS!, and she blows her admirer a kiss. Climbing up the ringside steps, Mitchell walks along the edge of the apron to the middle of the ropes, then steps between the middle and top cables, moving slooooooooowly enough for fans...and the cameras...to get a good eyeful of what many consider to be the most perfect rear end in FAWN. Cyn may be a face again these days, but she still knows how to play the crowd like the mesmerizing of heel she once was.
Both combatants are called to the center of the ring for their final instructions, but they are each deaf to the zebra. Instead, eyes locked, they silently glare threats and insults at one another. Perhaps chafed by her adversary's height advantage, Kylie seems to try to counter it by thrusting out her admittedly impressive décolletage, which simple prompts Mitchell to smirk. The technicalities established, both women are sent to their corners to await the opening bell.
With blonde and brunette striding to their opposite starting points, Kylie spins on a dime halfway to her supposed destination and rushes Mitchell from behind. Sanders shoves Cynthia in the back, Mitchell sent lurching into the buckles chest first.
Knowing things are only going downhill from here, Nick Castle calls for the bell to start the match with the Platinum Pixie wailing away at the back of Mitchell’s noggin. Pressed tightly into the corner by Kylie, Cynthia tries to turn and face her long-time rival but the Hawkeye does her best to make sure it doesn’t happen.
Castle scolds Kylie, demanding she let Cynthia out of the corner and Sanders turns to tell where Nick can stick it. Just that minute break in concentration allows Mitchell to swing an elbow and CRACK it into Kylie’s left cheek, her head swinging away from the impact.
Sanders staggers down the length of the ropes, grasping at the top cable to guide her. Behind her, a steaming Cynthia shakes her senses back into place with a waggle of her braincase and sprints toward the opposite strands. The brunette rebounds and races across the canvas, NAILING Vanilla Chill with a clothesline, sending Kylie backflipping over the ropes and pinwheeling to the floor below.
The crowd roars with delight watching Kylie crash and burn. With a look of concern firmly planted on her features, Jasmine hustles around the outside to help her partner. She bundles the bewildered Sanders to her feet, Chill leaning into J-Dogg, using the Nubian beauty as her crutch.
Sensing she can get two of Hot&Bothered for the price of one, Mitchell again heads for the far cables and uses the rubber-coated steel to gain momentum and u-turn toward her targets. Lifting off a few feet from the ropes, Cynthia splits the top and middle, diving suicide-style into old foe and new. The partners are sent backpedaling from the impact, their spines crashing into the steel barricade behind them in stereo, Chill and Dogg sliding down the metal to pool at its base.
Mitchell, landing on her feet, hovers over them, milking the FAWNatics for all their worth, whipping them into a frenzy before plucking Jasmine out of the pile. The brunette draws Washington into a bearhug, lifting Jas off the floor suplex-style. But instead of sending her up and over, she delivers Jasmine back the way she’d come, dropping her ebony midriff over the top of the barrier, gutting Sanders’ guardian, Jasmine going bugeyed as she’s draped over the barricade, hung out to dry.
Kylie, using the down time to her advantage, grabs a shoulder and wrist of the successful but distracted Mitchell and aims her at the steel steps. She flings Cynthia with an Irish whip with enough force the Carolina native can do little more than ball up as her right shoulder BANGS into the metal edifice, knocking it off kilter and perhaps knocking her arm out of alignment as well.
Castle, already up to ‘SIX’, takes time between that and ‘SEVEN’ to insist Kylie bring the match back inside the confines, but the furious blonde is lost in her nagging need for revenge in the worst way. Not even hearing the man, she pulls Mitchell up to a kneeling position and sinks both sets of nails into her foe’s lush dark locks. Pulling Mitchell’s head back, Ky CLANGS it into the steel of the middle step, the assembled reflexively groaning in worry for the Hellion. The Cynful One flops to her back and Sanders dives atop her in a Thesz Press, battering away with closed fists.
So focused on retribution is the Platinum Pixie, she can’t hear the roar of the crowd as they acknowledge the arrival of Belle’s original Hellion, the Bama Slamma herself, Ivy Armstrong. In her battle gear, Ivy shoulderblocks Kylie off her bestie, the women sent rolling off the splayed Cynthia.
Ivy Armstrong
With their talons bared, Chill and the Sweet Home’s Crimson Angel tear into each other, each rolling to topside before quickly being supplanted. Neither woman, and certainly not the semi-conscious Cynthia, notice Castle reach ‘TEN’ and wave wildly to the timekeeper.
The tolling of the bell draws a sideways glance from each as Sanders and Armstrong battle to their feet and trade haymakers. Only when the announcer makes it official that the match has been ruled a double disqualification does Chill become sidetracked enough for Ivy to nimbly fold Sanders’ right arm up and back on itself to clear a path and DRIVE A HEART PUNCH in deep, just to the left of the cleft of Kylie’s bosom.
Sanders’ hazel eyes cross, her body shuddering. Chill’s legs turn to jelly as she melts to her haunches, arms limp at her sides. As an enraged Ivy is about to pile on, she gets tackled from the side by the rest of Hot&Bothered, Kristy Sanders and Cosette LeBlanc taking Armstrong out before she can finish putting Kylie into a catatonic state.
Kristy Sanders
Cosette LeBlanc
Ky’s cousin and the former Huggable partner of Sanders the Original peel Belle’s daughter off the floor and deliver stereo knee lifts to the ivory tummy of the Slamma, doubling Armstrong at the waist while lifting her to tiptoes. They secure the redhead in dual front facelocks and lift her off the thinly-padded cement, sending her up and over with a teaming suplex. But Ivy doesn’t crash to a spine-torturing collision. Instead, Cynthia’s Carolina kin, long-time vet and returnee from a tour de force run through the arenas of Italy Sophie Mitchell and next gen crowd sweetheart Skylar catch Armstrong and set her down safely.
Sophie Mitchell
Skylar Mitchell
Unfortunately, in taking the time to do so, when they turn their sights back to the H&B B-team, Kristy and Cozy THWACK simultaneous super kicks into the chins of the Sisters Mitchell. The Real Deal timbers the taller Soph while the diminutive French waterbug does the honors with the Lil’est Mitchell.
As two-thirds of Natalie Roberson Mitchell's progeny topple like redwoods and lay splayed upon the concrete arena floor, the One Woman Minnesota Wrecking Crew and the Nymph from Not-So-Nice, France pounce down upon them, each cocking a fist in preparation for raining a flurry of blows to their victims' glassy-eyed mugs. Yet before the first fist can be cuffed to either finely featured face, Kristy and Cosette each find a hand curling itself around their manes, and both are roughly yanked up off of Soph and Sky. An instant later they find their noggins clonked together, courtesy of Cynthia, leaving the intruders knock-kneed and cross-eyed. This development gives Cynthia a few precious moments to try and rouse her sisters, as Kristy and Cozy weave around, each trying to clear the sudden fog in their skulls.
Somewhat shakily, Sophie and Skylar climb back up to their feet, just in time to find Kristy and Cosette not only suitably recovered, but now joined by Kylie, who despite the bright red impact mark atop the cleft of her orbs, appears spoiling for a fight yet again. The Mitchell’s ally in this impromptu battle royal, Ivy, had just moments before begun to make her way back into the battle...only to be felled by a clanging steel chair to the back of her head, courtesy of Jasmine.
With J-Dogg poised to take out another Hellion, namely Cynthia, with the folded furniture, Mitchell turns into a spinning wheel kick, nailing one side of the seatpan, sending the other side CLANGING into Washington’s features. Jasmine drops as if shot, flat on the floor, unconscious, the chair still in place over her face and chest.
In the midst of this riotous affair, with no hope remaining of getting anyone back into the ring, the broadcast producer has ordered more cameramen down to cover the action, so that at least the fans sitting in the pricey ringside seats on the other side of the ring can watch the monitors and see what's happening. Tellingly, neither additional referees nor FAWN security personal are dispatched; Bethany Christian has apparently decided to see how all of this plays out.
Both remaining threesomes glare warily at one another, poised to launch into battle at a moment's notice. No breath is wasted on threats as all six pant for breath, perspiration glistening across their bodies. So focused are the two sides on one another, none of them pay heed to the sudden sharp increase in volume to the already near-deafening cacophony of the thousands-strong crowd. With their backs turned to the runway, Team Kylie are unaware of the two figures now racing down the aisle...but they are made agonizingly aware of the entry of two new players, as Maeve and Moira Kane nail Cozy and Kristy from behind with axe blows between their shoulder blades, dropping them both to their hands and knees. But an instant later, it becomes apparent that this assault is not meant to tip the favor to Cynthia's side, but rather only to remove two impediments from the Riuil Kanes reaching their real targets...Sophie and Skylar! Moira spears Skye and they both fall to the floor, where the Irish blonde starts jacking her right fist again and again into her target's jaw.
Maeve Kane
Moira Kane
However, redheaded Maeve's efforts are not as rewarding, as the highly experienced Sophie is keen enough to side-step the spear, sending the elder Kane slamming into the steel ring barrier. Soph lunges for her, and the two longtime nemeses rip at one another's hair as they stumble around ringside, their eternal hatred reducing these two veteran warriors into savage hellcats!
Ignoring all of this, Cynthia and Kylie tear into each other. After several moments of inconclusive brawling, Mitchell tries for a kick to her adversary's belly, but Sanders catches her foot; but a heartbeat later, a leaping Cyn connects with her other boot right upside Ky's cranium. The blonde doesn't collapse, but she does reel backward, eyes spinning in their sockets. Cynthia presses her advantage...but is halted in her tracks by a cobra-swift Eyepoke of Doom from her foe. Needing breathing space, Kylie opts for a very FAWNian strategy: Sanders steps up behind Cyn and grasps hold of her opponent's halter top, unhooking it and, with a yank, tearing it off. This sets the alpha males at ringside frothing at the mouth as they are rewarded with a close-up view of Mitchell's more-than-satisfactory bounty. Which suits Sanders just fine.
Muscling the still-bleary eyed Cynthia over to the barrier, Kylie wraps her arms around the brunette's waist, and with a grunt, hoists her up and throws her over the steel rail, to the feet of the fans. Ky knows from bitter personal experience how those knuckle dragging mouth breathers will "help" Cynthia back over, their hands pawing all over her as they grope and squeeze every damned inch of her body. Whatever fuel in the tank the North Carolinian still has will be spent just pulling free of that pack of jackals.
Turning to survey the carnage all around her, Kylie sneers, "Time to take out the rest of the trash", and she goes over to rouse her troops, so they could deal with everyone not a part of Hot&Bothered. Whether any additional surnames will be added to the belligerent bouillabaisse is anyone’s guess.
Still, it can hardly be considered a surprise when others join the party, though when the crowd reflexively turns to movement at the upper stage, they are likely surprised to find a woman relegated to FAWN’s ‘dark match’ scene and a denizen of the Jungle.
Honey Harris and Sid Duffy, in tank tops and denim, aren’t about to let the Mitchells and Ivy become victims to the numbers game. Circumstances put the women backstage and fate allows them a chance to intervene. Honey and Sid barrel down the ramp at full speed, a majority of the crowd knowing Harris, less so The Kid. And if Honey’s past FAWN forays were indicative of future performance, there might not be a lot the two could do.
Honey Harris
Sid Duffy
That idea is quickly set aside when the duo SLAMS into Kristy and Cozy from behind. The new arrivals tackle them to the deck as Kylie’s backup is about to help the Kanes in their war against Sophie and Skye.
Mounting Kristy’s waist, Duffy pounds away with punches that Kylie’s cousin does her best to block with some success.
Cosette manages to scramble to her feet after the Harris takedown. She turns to face the blonde, but Honey is surging toward her. She grabs Cozy’s noggin on the fly-by and drops to her back, sending her knees BANGING into the Frenchwoman’s skull. Cosette flops to her back, dark eyes glazed from Honey’s Trap.
Honey Trap ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=AszkGgipGKA )
The Black Sheep of the Sanders’ clan fights her way out from under Sid and swings a scythe-like clothesline at Sid. But Duffy deftly ducks beneath the blow, leaving Kristy to pirouette through the swing and miss. Face to face once more, Sid draws the off-balance Kristy close. Dipping, she wraps her arms under Kristy’s glutes and lifts Sanders off the floor, only to Drop her Atomically, splitting Kristy’s wickets and leaving the Real Deal frozen, hands burying between her thighs.
Snatching the head of the Sanders into a front facelock, Duffy lays out and DRIVES Kristy’s skull into the barely-padded concrete, the completion of her Double Duffy, leaving Part Deux face down and out cold.
Double Duffy (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HF5_i7aRBwc )
With the flood gates apparently opened, Belinda Brooks, Sid’s bitter rival in Bangor is sprinting to ringside, the ‘Breathtaking’ Hawaiian with a bead on her long-time adversary.
Belinda Brooks
A frantic Kylie, clearly concerned at the beehive of bodies flying around her and the sight of her H&B crew in various states of lack of consciousness, slides into the ring and backpedals to the ropes opposite from the melee.
It seems a wise decision when Rio’s most glimmering set of ‘Pearls’ Luisa Campos decides it an opportune stage to gain some air time, heading down the ramp just as Belinda CRASHES into Sid with a forearm smash to the back of her fellow Jungle fighter’s noggin.
Luisa Campos
Honey turns to the arrival of Brooks and grabs a wrist and elbow of her fellow blonde before Belinda can wail on Sid. But payback on the Jungle native is interrupted by Campos. Her catty nature showing through, Luisa latches onto Honey’s golden locks and tugs her off Brooks, apparently claiming Harris as her ‘sparring partner’.
Luisa throws Honey under the bottom ropes and follows her into the squared circle. Both women scramble to their feet. An advancing Kylie backs away at that sight, having missed her chance to attack while the late arrivals are down.
With Harris distracted by FAWN’s Most Hated, Luisa grabs a wrist and heaves Honey toward a set of buckles, quickly following behind after launching the Brit with an Irish whip. Harris manages to jump to the middle ropes instead of crashing into the corner. She leaps blindly toward the startled Campos who catches her around the waist from behind.
Honey acrobatically flips her body forward, gathering enough momentum to deliver Luisa face first to the middle buckle with her Honeycomb Facebuster.
Honeycomb facebuster (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jvYbM5AEyIE )
Senses rattled, the Brazilian remains in a wide kneel, arms flung over the middle ropes. Honey pops to her feet to the roar of the crowd. But the noise quickly turns to squeals of concern as Kylie approaches from the Brit’s six with a raised double axhandle.
Harris turns with a toe kick ready, gutting the Platinum Pixie, leaving Sanders doubled at the waist. Honey collects Ky in a rugged double underhook. She dips and vaults Chill off her shoe leather, sending Kylie up and partially over, dropping Sanders on the back of her cranium. But Honey follows the Pleasant Valley Pariah’s somersault and ends in Kylie’s lap with a Butterfly Lock in place, Harris dropping the Honey Pot on Sanders.
Honey Pot (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tbxnz-9M5SA )
With Castle long gone and no submission to be had, Harris is free to rattle Kylie’s braincase from side to side, the crowd roaring with delight, Sanders’ arms becoming progressively limp at her sides.
Thankfully for Vanilla Chill, Pearls comes to her rescue, Luisa CRASHING a raised knee into the back of Honey’s head, Harris’ hold immediately sloughing off Ky, both blondes melting to their sides.
In the scrum on the outside, Maeve and Sophie’s battle has taken a curvy turn for the worse for the eldest Mitchell. The flaxen-haired Kane has a seat on Sophie’s lap, Maeve’s legs scissoring Sophie, but more dangerously, a front sleeper grip is tightly applied, Mitchell’s face enveloped by the emerald lycra thinly coating Maeve’s vaunted rack.
Sophie flails wildly, buried in the flesh, while the Lil’est Mitchell’s has turned the tables on Moira.
Skye scissors Kane’s left limb in an arm bar while draping over the fans’ side of the steel barricade.
Armbar (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OLkRFXb6ixE ) (over the barricade rather than the ropes)
Moira howls in pain, trying to wrest her limb from the determined scrapper. Skylar’s more accomplished sister, having reacquired her top courtesy one of the lesser lascivious FAWNatics, places it back across her bounty.
Cynthia, in the front row, measures a pointed elbow toward Moira’s extended shoulder and DRIVES it into the vulnerable joint, Kane shrieking in agony from the dual attack on her searing limb.
Elsewhere, the Jungle natives, Sid and Belinda, tear into each other with abandon as they battle around the recovering Ivy and Jasmine, alabaster redhead and ebony warrior still shaking off their concussive chair shots.
Back in the confines, Luisa pulls a dazed Harris to her feet, capturing the bent Honey in a chinlock that is amplified when Pearls wraps her long charcoal locks around the throat of the Brit. Campos twists so the grapplers are back to back then lays out, DESTROYING Honey with her Pearl Necklace finisher.
Pearl Necklace (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-aBLoTdfSoU )
Luisa leans into the demolished Harris, sitting against the blonde’s prone form with a smirk. But her lips crease with aggravation when she sees a tiny Mexican who’d received a cup of coffee in FAWN but currently uses her speed to tear up the Jungle. Well known to Campos in several battles south of the border, Shosana Soto or Lil So-So is a blur on her way to battle, diving in under the bottom ropes to join a rising Luisa.
Soshana Soto
With Kylie, clearly not right, languidly draping across the body of Harris, presumably hoping for a pin in her confused state, SoSo and Campos have the ring to themselves in terms of a battleground.
Pearls reaches for her foe’s locks as the Mexican approaches and the already vertically-challenged Soto easily slips under, using a dropkick to Luisa’s right shin to force Campos to genuflect. Kipping to her feet, La Pequeno Dimamita leaps, little legs extended, wrapping them around the head of the Brazilian. In a show of lucha artistry, Soshana backflips and DDTs Luisa’s forehead into the deck with a low-rise hurricarana, Pearls absently flopping to her back from the impact.
With Campos in a stunned starfish next to her, Soto kips to her feet again, drawing a roar from the crowd. In quick succession, she lowers her signature Boom, Boom, Boom with an elbow drop to Luisa’s chest, a leg drop across her foe’s throat and a standing splash across Campos’ bronzed tummy.
With Luisa set up for a finale, Soshana climbs the buckles nearest the splayed Pearls ready to set off her ‘Boom Goes the Dynamite’ elbow drop from the top and make certain Campos out for the night.
But the little, lethal Lucha forgets the Platinum Pixie has quite the recovery powers. As Soto reaches her perch and turns to target Luisa, Chill dives to the ropes beside SoSo, rattling the cables and knocking her off balance. Soto tumbles from her station, one leg on either side of the uppermost strand. The rubber-coated steel RAMS into her crotch and things only get worse when Kylie grabs the rope and sets it bouncing, giving Soshana the most painful ride of her life.
The terror train picks up its next passenger as Chill continues to torture Lil So-So, the run of next generation wrestlers broken by the veteran MMA star and FAWN grappler Mercy Ellis.
Mercy Ellis
Apparently having seen enough of Sanders’ surviving and even thriving in the mayhem, Ellis isn’t having it any longer. She sprints down the ramp with only one of the myriad of women on her mind. With others incapacitated or occupied, Mercy has a fairly straight line to the ring.
Inside, Kylie has SoSo stretched out from the top rope, the Mexican’s ankles hooked over the top rope with Chill in control of the little Lucha via a front facelock, ready to DDT her from the top cable.
Thankfully for the Jungle native, Mercy dives in under the bottom rope, plucking Kylie’s left ankle even as she enters, ripping Sanders off her feet and freeing Soshana in the process, Soto lightly tumbling to the deck on a shoulder and rolling out of the ring.
As Ellis scrambles to her feet with the Hawkeye’s ankle still in her possession, Mercy wraps her arms around the joint and twists as if she’s meaning to remove Kylie’s foot from the rest of her lower limb. Chill howls in pain, cursing at Ellis as she tries to squirm free. It’s a hopeless task with the expert MMAer on the other end of the ankle lock.
“I should put you on the shelf forever,” Mercy threatens. “But maybe you can learn the error of your ways in six months.”
While Ellis threatens Kylie with a trip to Orlando General’s Orthopedics Department, Belinda continues to fight for an advantage with Sid ‘The Kid’, Brooks powering Duffy into a fireman’s carry then tossing/shrugging Duffy off her shoulders, Sid plummeting to the genuflecting Belinda’s knee, her gut BUSTED by the blonde.
Brooks pushes Sid off her bony joint, a gasping Duffy ending on her back, hugging her tummy as she tries to draw in as much oxygen as she’s able. The buxom blonde dives atop Duffy in a full body pin, wrapping her arms under and around Sid’s head. The blonde forces her foe’s face into the lowering cleavage of the Hawaiian breathtaker, Belinda simultaneously grapevining Sid’s legs, as The Kid flails wildly trying to escape Brooks’ oxygen-stealing, front sleeper.
A woman who has been at the scene of the crimes from the very beginning, Jasmine Washington, is partially recovered from ‘eating’ steel courtesy the Cynful One. No more than a step away, the Bama Slamma, who’s been the recipient of a con-chair-to from J-Dogg is on rubbery legs for the first time in a while herself.
The green eyes of Armstrong are like emerald lasers and Kylie’s partner feels the full brunt, throwing up a left hand plaintively, begging off the flushed and furious redhead.
“Darlin’, you are so gonUHHHH”
Ivy’s threat is cut off as Jasmine pulls the folding chair from behind her with her right hand and impales the Crimson Angel with the top. A bugeyed Ivy is doubled at the waist, mouth agape, having fallen to Jasmine’s chair-work once more. With Armstrong bent over, Washington swings for a home run and CRASHES the chair down on the back of Ivy’s head and shoulders, leaving Ivy face down and twitching, her night ended emphatically.
With Armstrong down and out, Jasmine finds a target of opportunity, nailing the back of Belinda’s braincase with a stomp. Momentarily stunned, Belinda’s arms loosen from around Sid’s noggin. Unfortunately for ‘The Kid’, she’s already been put to bed by Brooks’ bosom and its breathtaking bulk.
Grabbing Belinda’s wrists, Jasmine pulls Brooks’ upper half off Duffy and shifts Belinda 45 degrees to the left. Regaining enough of her senses to understand the dire straits she’s in, Belinda warns whoever has her there will be a steep price to pay if…
J-Dogg apparently isn’t concerned with working on credit and curbstomps Belinda’s flawless features into the thinly padded cement, putting her in dreamland next to the woman she’d placed there moments before.
With Wash having dispatched a couple gatecrashers, her dark eyes turn to the ring confines and see Mercy working over her partner’s ankle, Kylie pleading and tapping the canvas for all she’s worth in Ellis’ ankle lock. Jasmine realizes there’s one more white girl wannabe to knock into next week. She slides under the bottom rope in Mercy’s six, rising and ready to pounce.
As Jasmine readies to turn the tables on the inside, more and more of the rioting participants are being left comatose on the out.
Cosette and Kristy, after lengthy forced naps, try to reacquaint themselves with full awareness, but Skye and Cynthia, having left Moira with one working arm and having tossed her into the laps of the front row, are tracking Kylie’s crew.
A whistle from the plucky Skylar turns both staggering members of Hot&Bothered toward the Mitchell sisters. The Lil’est member of the family doesn’t mess around, bringing Greetings From Charlotte, Skye’s superlative superkick catching Cosette under the chin.
The former Huggable straightens board-like from the impact, the rigid LeBlanc timbering to the floor, sent back to bed only moments after regaining her feet.
Kristy isn’t any more fortunate with Cynthia. Mitchell rocks Sanders Part Deux with a forearm to the jaw. With Kristy glassy-eyed, The Cynful One secures Kristy’s left hand in a pumphandle pressed tight to the blonde’s crotch. Collecting the Black Sheep around the opposite shoulder, Cynthia launches Kylie’s cousin off the deck, flipping her forward, and DROPPING Sanders on the back of her braincase with the Original Cyn.
Original Cyn (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rxb0bwxjANM )
Even the jaded in the crowd groan at the sight of Cynthia’s finisher applied on the thinly padded concrete and it’s no surprise when Kristy splays to an oblivious starfish next to the focused second-generation superstar.
While Hot&Bothered suffer a stinging double setback on the outside, Kylie wails without reservation within, tapping and pleading, tears streaming down her face. Still, Ellis is not convinced Sanders has yet paid the appropriate price for escaping an IC title match with Mercy by getting herself DQd against the ex-MMAer.
Finally, the blonde decides to relent to the disappointment of the FAWNatics. Ellis plucks a whimpering Sanders off the canvas, placing Kylie on her haunches in a widespread kneel. “Consider yourself lucky, Sanders. You’re Angel of Mercy has arrived.”
Mercy takes off to the ropes to Ky’s side. She leaps toward the penitent Kylie, right leg raised to bring down a guillotine-like blow on the back of Chill’s skull when Jasmine intercepts de-cleating Ellis with a wicked spear from the side, crashing into Mercy’s left ribs and PLANTING her viciously into the canvas.
“Bytch, don’t even think you’re ending H&B’s night,” Washington growls.
Jas plucks the flattened Ellis of the canvas. J-Dogg dips and ducks her head between Mercy’s legs and lifts Ellis off her feet, draping the blonde down her back, wrapping her arms around the back of Mercy’s knees.
Snarling, Jasmine says night-night to Kylie’s tormentor with her Ass Backwards Driver, SPIKING the crown of Mercy’s skull into the deck like a lawn dart.
Ass Backwards Driver (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=slN0_8QaRuI )
Ellis lies in a single file coma behind the kneeling, smiling Jasmine, who dramatically wipes her hands clean. Washington pushes to her feet, satisfaction written all over her features. But her face suddenly twists in pain when the newly entered Cynthia drives a toe kick deep into her ebony midriff, J-Dogg bent at the waist and gasping, mouth agape.
With practiced precision, Mitchell secures one underhooked arm then the other of the frozen Wash. Cynthia leaps into the air and PLANTS Jasmine’s face into the deck with her iconic Drop Out, J-Dogg left face down, a shudder passing through her frame before she falls still, out cold from the Carolinian’s finisher.
The brunette hops to her feet in front of J-Dogg’s body, the ring nearly as scattered with demolished forms as the outside. Knowing she’s finished off the final member of H&B Cynthia rises triumphantly, arms raised above the mass and mess of humanity.
But the most renowned Mitchell doesn’t seem to understand Kylie’s night wasn’t quite ended by Ellis. Having bailed after escaping Mercy’s wrath, Sanders has returned with a chair in her possession and the celebrating Cynthia turns right into a gutting stab with the folded furniture. With Cyn bent in front of her, Kylie brings the metal down on the back and skull of Mitchell. Somehow, though Cynthia’s back arches in agony, she remains upright.
Vanilla Chill means to solve that problem, sidling alongside Cynthia, the women headed in opposite directions. Showing some strength remains in the battered Sanders, Kylie heaves Cynthia high into the air with a gutwrench then sits out and POWERBOMBS Mitchell atop the carcass of Ellis, leaving the women a comatose crisscross.
Child of the Corn (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9UckX7ScRcY )
Kylie sits in exhaustion next to the demolished Mitchell, tossing her lifeless legs away. The Platinum Pixie scans the arena, Bethany apparently having put the kibosh on any more combatants. Of the precious few that remain ambulatory, Kylie recognizes the top-heavy Maeve Kane, the runt of the Mitchell clan, and someone she could not place.
Skylar and the curvy Maeve continue the battle between FAWN royal families, each woman pumping away, fist after fist connecting, the crowd cheering and booing alternately, Maeve taking the heat for beating on one of FAWN’s beloved Sweethearts.
Both women finally run out of steam after a dozen blows each way, blonde and brunette leaning into the other, shoulder against shoulder. And the remaining party crasher Lil So-So takes advantage, leaping into a dropkick that NAILS each fighter and sends the entwined grapplers tumbling over the barricade, crashing into Moira, causing a three-way pile-up in the front row.
Soshana turns to see a swath of un and semiconscious women around her. Only an oblivious Kylie is vertical and she wobbles mid-ring among many of her apparent victims. The little Mexican makes sure Kylie will be the last one of the night, leaping to the apron then bounding to the top rope, using it as a springboard to take out FAWN’s Most Hated and leave a statement Lil So-So demands a return to the main roster.
Soto skies toward the Platinum Pixie, but in this case it’s Platinum Possum. With Soshana airborne, Sanders pivots and catches Lil So-So across her shoulders in a fireman’s carry.
Kylie seamlessly barrel rolls to the right and PLANTS Soshana into the deck with a violent Chilly Valley Driver, the ring rattling with the collision of the young Mexican.
Unsure Soto’s demolition leaves her the last woman standing, Ky makes it to her haunches next to the vanquished Soto and takes a look around the area. There are a few squirming bodies, but when Kylie reaches her feet, she’s the only one upright. Ky drags Lil So-So’s body atop Cynthia and Mercy and puts a boot on top of the three-scoop sundae.
“My company. MINE!” Chill bellows.
The words seem to prompt the delivery of FAWN’s flunky squad, no doubt sent by Bethany Christian, making clear she still has ultimate control. The men scatter throughout the wreckage, making sure there won’t be any further mayhem. A few enter Kylie’s confines, demanding she back off from those waylaid.
Kylie shrugs in agreement, though she does scoop up Jasmine, helping her home girl to her feet and exiting the squared circle together.
As they depart, Kylie lets everyone know who outlasted the Mitchells, Ivy and all those trying to steal her spotlight.
“This is a Chilly World,” Chill shouts as she and J-Dogg leave the carnage behind, “and you losers are just livin’ in it!”