OPEN CHALLENGE: Kathryn de Chevalier vs ???

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the announcer declares, “at this time, would you please welcome… ANNNCCCIIILLLIIINNNEEE de CYYYRRR!!!!!”

”LA MARSEILLAISES”:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=HlEj_qjQ-Ks

The crowd does NOT please.

The crowd VEHEMENTLY does not please

The crowd explodes in a barrage of whistles, jeers, and even insults—a barrage which only intensifies when the beautiful French aristocrat pushes the curtains open and steps through, onto the ramp.

ANCILINE DE CYR:


Of course, someone possessing the impeccable physical charms of de Cyr can transform a portion of that condemnation into appreciation, especially when those charms are accentuated by a stunning black, v neck, knee length open split pencil dress, clasped at her left hip. Below the waist, the dress does an admirable job of covering her right thigh, but leaves the left almost thoroughly exposed. A pair of red, open-toe ankle strap six inch heels elevate the already statuesque de Cyr to virtually Amazonian proportions.

Anciline strides down the aisle, her nose almost but not quite imperceptibly upturned. Ascending the ringsteps, de Cyr slips through the ropes and approaches the announcer. Without a single syllable spoken, she extends a hand toward him, wordlessly commanding possession of the microphone. And, dutifully, he complies. “Merci beaucoup,” the Frenchwoman says, before at last acknowledging the existence of the paying audience.

“Mesdames et Messieurs,” the Frenchwoman begins, her voice maintaining an impressive level of breezy condescension, “I can only assumer that you have all been waiting with retenant son souffle for my pupil’s latest démonstration de domination.”

An explosion of jeers and boos meets Anciline’s remarks, but to be fair, that reaction is NOT unanimous. It appears that de Cyr’s protégé has indeed been making quite the impression on the rather more blackhearted among the FAWNatics, and THOSE fans absolutely are eager and anxious to see just what she might do next.

“Détester as I am to simply donner you imbéciles dégoûtants what you wish for,” Anciline tells them, “it is effectivement time for another chienne to find herself humilié. Ladies and gentlemen, le Tueur Voluptueux…. KAAATTTHHHRRRYYYNNN de CHHHEEEVVVAAALLLIIIEEERRR!!!!!”

KATHRYN de CHEVALIER


”LA GRENADE”:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=85m-Qgo9_nE

Over the pulse of a guitar and Clara Luciani’s “La Grenade”, the curtain parts, and the French blonde in the ring is joined by another atop the ramp—the newcomer giving up about an inch in height to the more established woman. Judging by appearances, she is perhaps just north of 20 years of age, with wavy blonde locks spilling to her shoulders. Her flawless, porcelain skin stands in stark contrast to the black fighting two piece that hugs her curvaceous frame, the bottoms tied at her hips, and a web of lacing across her bust connecting one cup to the other, while still offering the most tantalizing view of the considerable cleavage behind those laces. From her fingertips to a little beyond each elbow stretch elegant, dark red, nylon opera gloves, while a set of stockings of the same material and color rise to mid thigh, garters connecting them to her briefs. To complete her look, she sports a pair of black leather ankle boots, not at all unlike the sort of footwear de Cyr herself would wear to the ring.

Kathryn surveys her new queendom for a moment, but then begins her march toward her personal throne room: the ring. The audience, with memories of Michelle Dawnstar’s annihilation and Honey Harris’ humiliation still fresh in their minds, unleash… well, a smattering of cheers and whistles from Section 1408, unsurprisingly. But the overwhelming response from the FAWNatics is one of utter contempt. However, if the FAWN Arena had a capacity of one million fans, a sellout audience would have failed to manage the collective contempt for Kathryn that de Chevalier’s haughty expression returns toward them, her green eyes perpetually threatening to start rolling as she turns a dismissive palm toward the jeering masses.

De Chevalier comes to a halt near the foot of the steps, the buxom blonde beginning to hop from right foot to her left, then back, and back again, her arms shuffling at her sides as she loosens her body for combat. Of course, the laws of physics require that, for each shift of her weight, her gurls similarly jostle within their confines—a development that does not go unnoticed by the front row fans, many of whom whistle in appreciation. Kathryn fails to acknowledge them, and neither does Anciline as the blonde aristocrat moves to the ropes. The older Frenchwoman takes a seat on the middle cable, opening the ropes for de Chevalier as she climbs the steps, and then slips into the ring.

While the younger, curvier blonde claims possession of one corner and continues to stretch, a referee emerges from backstage, a development that picks up the crowd’s interest considerably. For her part, de Cyr strides back toward the center of the ring. “Again, rather than force an unwitting and unworthy opponent to face Kathryn’s colère, we call for a bénévole. If there is any coquine in that vestiaire brave enough to face de Chevalier, let her approche this ring now.”

Seconds tick by, and de Cyr’s challenge is met with… silence, at least from the dressing room. The FAWNatics murmur, some conversing amongst themselves, a few seeming to direct requests toward the curtains. But there remains no movement, well past ten seconds beyond Anciline’s call to action. With a sneer, de Cyr brings the stick back to her lips.

“Pathétique,” she practically spits. “Not that j’esperais anything more. FAWN has never known un champion willing to se lever when she knows her défaite is inevita…”

And suddenly, de Cyr is interrupted. Not be movement at the top of the ramp, but by sound over the public address system. And that sound is not music, but rather a voice.

A voice that posed a question.

A question that once had been asked of the FAWNatics frequently, though not in many a year…

“Do you wanna get rocked?”

Five words.

Five words are enough to cause an eruption amongst the assembled FAWNatics, the likes of which even longtime fans would be hard pressed to remember. In the ring, even Anciline’s eyes widen, her jaw falling slack in disbelief…

The only person in the building seeming unaffected is Kathryn de Chevalier.

It couldn’t be…

Could it?

”LET’S GET ROCKED”:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=VhM_LxeKgEQ

But as the Def Leppard continues to play, it becomes increasingly impossible to believe it might be anyone else. And all doubt is finally erased when the curtains part…

SHEA LONDON:


In the years to come, countless cases of hearing loss would likely be attributed to this very evening. For as loud as the crowd had already become in just the last few seconds, the emergence of Shea London onto the stage pushes them louder still. Spurring the audience to push the decibel meter higher and higher is the fact the legend, arguably THE FAWN Original, is dressed for combat—albeit in a set of togs unfamiliar to this audience: visible underneath an open, traditional, red ring jacket is a one piece proudly emblazoned in the Union Jack, the red stripes of the cross running from the scooped neckline to between her legs and underneath her bosom, respectively, her eyes shielded behind a pair of stylish shades. Red knee and elbow pads along with blue boots complete her ensemble.

It’s a decidedly old school look, but an incredibly fitting and flattering one.

The very few FAWNatics who had yet to be on their feet now join their comrades, rising from their seats to give the returning icon a rousing standing ovation. Some seconds later, the unintelligible but welcoming roar of the crowd begins to coalesce into a more coherent chant that properly conveys their sentiments:

”HO-LY SH!T!
HO-LY SH!T!
HO-LY SH!T!”

A beaming London raises her left hand. So overwhelmed by her unexpected appearance tonight, few observing had noticed that the Sensational One was carrying a microphone—that is, until her right hand brings the stick closer to her lips. “Language, lads,” Shea playful chides the crowd.

The FAWNatics dutifully get their act together, a small chuckle running through the cheering audience as they begin to quiet down—at least enough to let the British blonde have her say.

“’Ello, Anci,” Shea greets her longtime rival. “Long time, eh? I’d ask if ya care ta intraduce me ta yer dancin’ bear, but I’ve been payin’ enough attention lately ta know who she is. An’, frankly, tha less YOU talk, tha better.”

It’s difficult to tell which pushes Anciline’s blood pressure higher, London’s words or the crowd’s reaction to them.

“I see Belisha Beacons ‘ere ‘as been makin’ somethin’ o’ a name fer ‘erself the past couple o’ months,” London adds. “An’ I’ve ‘eard you askin’ fer competition fer ‘er. Well, with all due respect ta Michelle an’ ta ‘Oney, I’m curious ta see ‘ow yer girl does against someone with a bit o’ experience an’ a resume. Or ta find out if she’s just an overhyped pair of baps with no talent…”

The Sensational One smirks before tacking on three more words.

“… like ‘er mentor.”

Many in the crowd let out a gasp, and indeed, it takes a furious de Cyr a moment to gather herself and bring a measured tone back to her voice. “You must excuse me, Shea,” she replies with an icy grin. “I did not reconnaître you until you took off your glasses. After all, it was only tes yeux that I tended to see, with how much time ton visage spent between ma poitrine… or my ‘baps’, to use your crude terminologie. But, if I was without talent… let me te rappeler that we met trois fois in this ring, and deux fois I defeated you. The first time, I threw your corps brisé to this rabble. The second, you kissed ma botte BEFORE I claimed ma victoire. Only a compte rapide allowed you to escape our last encounter with a victory, and with your pride.”

As indisputable as two-thirds of de Cyr’s chronicle might be, the FAWNatics respond with a round of jeers.

“In votre prime, London, you had peu d’espoir of defeating moi. If you think you can defeat Kathryn tonight, when votre prime is clearly a distant memory… well, then it appears démence might be setting in.”

The Sensational One gives the crowd time to express their copious displeasure, before offering a somewhat surprising retort.

“Y’know, Anci… ya might be right.”

The audience greets London’s admission with confusion and rejection.

“I’ve never been a fool, Anci. I know damn well tha’ I am nearer ta tha end of ma career than I am ta tha beginnin’ of it. I might well be gettin’ past it…”

Not a single fan is prepared to accept that possibility, which they let the Sensational One know in no uncertain terms.

“But…” London notes, “I am prepared ta bet tha’ I ‘ave fergotten more wrestlin’ than Belisha ‘ere knows now, or will ever know. If I’m wrong… well, as ya’ve so thoughtfully reminded tha folks, it won’t be tha first time my face ‘as wound up between a pair o’ saggy French tits. But, if I’m right, then I show tha world tha’ yer girl still ‘as some learnin’ ta do, before she’s ready fer tha big time. So… whatcha say, Anci?”

It’s not Anciline who responds, however. Before de Cyr can offer a response, Kathryn grabs her mentor’s hand, pulling the microphone to her lips.

“London,” de Chevalier snarls, “J'ai hâte d'étouffer une légende surestimée”

A smirking Anciline pulls the mic away from her protégé, and translates her words for those in attendance.

“Kathryn says she is ready to snuff out an overrated legend.”

The Sensational One simply shrugs her shoulders and tosses her microphone aside, Def Leppard resuming over the sound system as Shea makes her way down the aisle. “And her opponent,” the announcer proclaims, “hailing from Manchester, England in the United Kingdom… She stands five feet four inches tall and weighs in at one hundred and twenty pounds… She is the one… the only… the Sensational One… SHHHEEEAAA LOOONNNDDDOOONNN!!!!!”

The dirty blonde Briton darts down to the ring, slapping hands with the fans as she does, her usual million dollar smile on full display for the crowd. Shea makes a complete circuit around ringside, continuing to slap hands and accept the well wishes of her overjoyed and, frankly, still incredulous fans. Climbing the steps, Shea slips between the ropes. Keeping a close, wandering set of eyes on both de Chevalier and the departing de Cyr, she takes a step toward her corner. Mounting the middle rope, London slips her ring jacket down her shoulders, Shea’s grin growing broader as the crowd enjoys the tease...

Once Shea’s feet return to the canvas, the referee calls for the bell, bringing both women out of their corners. And an already electric atmosphere in the FAWN Arena threatens to go nuclear the more the distance between the blondes lessens. Though her movements and expression are both measured, underneath the surface the Sensational One’s body crackles with the energy of a woman who has not competed under this spotlight in nearly three years, and is simply itching to throw down. Her French counterpart, on the other hand, moves with the same sort of languid detachment she might if her open challenge had been answered by a fan in the third row rather than a future first ballot Hall of Famer.

At last, the distance between them is reduced to nothing, and the crowd roars as London and de Chevalier tie up. For a few seconds, Briton and Frenchwoman jostle for control, but eventually it’s the novice blonde that wins out, Kathryn pulling Shea into a tight side headlock. Perhaps it shouldn’t have been surprising, what with de Chevalier possessing a size and strength advantage on her more experienced opponent, but it’s still a development that, ever so slightly, deflates the crowd…

… and also ever so briefly, as the Sensational One works her way loose, snatches Kathryn’s left wrist, and wrenches the curvaceous Frenchwoman’s arm up behind her back in a hammerlock. The newcomer grimaces, but she soon finds herself with more problems when Shea presses a boot to the back of de Chevalier’s calf and pushes down, forcing the haughty blonde to her knees. Not missing a beat, London abandons the hammerlock, steps to Kathryn’s side, and snares her foe in a side headlock of her own—the veteran having first opted to neutralize Kathryn’s height advantage, while also increasing her own leverage she could use to work the hold.

“Concentre-toi, Kathryn!” de Cyr commands from the floor.

With a grunt of exertion—and even that vocalization comes tinged in a note of annoyance—de Chevalier manages to push back to her feet, though London keeps her headlock cinched tight, even as le Tueur Voluptueur’s legs churn to push Shea back into the ropes. With the aide of the resistance of the cables, Kathryn shoots the Sensational One off toward the opposite strands, straightening up and extending an arm to take London’s head off with a massive clothesline…

Shea ducks, evading decapitation and continuing on her way into the ropes from whence she had come. Kathryn, meanwhile, swivels to get ready for the Briton’s second pass. Shuffling her feet into a broad stance, the French blonde lowers herself to launch Shea toward the rafters with a backdrop. But as her hands reach to push up against London’s thighs, they find only air. However, she soon feels Shea’s hands against her back when the Sensational One leagfrogs over her. Kathryn rises from her doubled over posture fairly quickly, but even so, before she can turn around, the French blonde feels a finger tap on her shoulder…

… and when de Chevalier does spin around, it’s directly into a pair of soles that SLAM into the French beauty’s vaunted bosom. Shea’s bootleather puts Kathryn on the deck with an impressive dropkick, the British Bombshell showing that her shapely gams still could achieve some elevation. The voluptuous blonde scrambles back to her feet, but in this instance, beauty beats youth, the Sensational One regaining her footing first and catching Kathryn’s chest with a second dropkick. The French blonde hauls herself up again, but it’s not even a race this time, London waiting on her foe to catch her with a THIRD dropkick. This time, Shea’s boots connect with Kathryn’s jaw, not only sending her crashing back to the deck, but also sending the usually domineering blonde scurrying to the near ropes, where Anciline reaches in to give her protégé’s shoulder a pat of encouragement.

“Class is in session, duchess,” Shea taunts. “An’ it’s lookin’ ta me like ya should’ve stuck ta yer O-Levels…”

“Bête impudente,” Kathryn snarls. “Succomber à ma poitrine étouffer est une meilleure fin que ce que vous méritez.”

Le Tueur Voluptueur climbs to her feet, the duo circling again before each surges into another tie up. For the second time, it’s the rookie who comes out the better of this initial exchange, as Kathryn claims possession of Shea’s left wrist and executes an arm wringer. London does her best to stifle a groan, her right hand moving to slap at her throbbing left shoulder. Apparently determined to rip an even louder cry out of the FAWN Original, de Chevalier wrings Shea’s wing a second time, the British Bombshell letting out a yelp as she staggers closer to the ropes…

Shea reaches out her right hand, and grabs hold of the top rope. The referee starts to call for a break, but it quickly becomes clear that the Sensational One isn’t seeking one. Instead, London jumps into a front flip, alleviating some of the pressure on her captive wing. Still continuing to grasp the top rope, the veteran pivots toward her opponent and stuffs a knee into Kathryn’s gut, doubling the Frenchwoman over. Shea then swings her left leg up and over de Chevalier’s noggin, allowing her thigh to rest against the back of the younger blonde’s head. The Sensational One then uses her plant foot to launch herself into the air, her hands slipping behind Kathryn’s head to steady herself as her right leg slips atop de Chevalier’s right shoulder. London then throws her weight into reverse, RIPPING the Frenchwoman off her feet with a beautiful hurricanrana.

ROPE-ASSISTED FRONT FLIP & HURRICANRANA:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=gFtCNpI7oys

Kathryn skids into the ropes, coming to rest with the bottom cable resting underneath the bigger blonde’s shoulderblades. Anciline starts to move toward her charge, but in the ring, Shea is already rebounding off the opposite ropes and charging toward her foe. Diving into a slide, London SLAMS a blistering forearm into de Chevalier’s abundant bounty, de Cyr only just managing to slip out of the way herself and avoiding taking two British soles square to the mush as London’s legs spill off the apron.

SLIDING D:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=pN_i3rapqqM

Kathryn topples to her back and rolls toward the apron, Anciline assisting her protégé in rolling to the floor and landing on her feet. The FAWNatics greet this unprecedented sight with a mixture of jeers and laughter, while in the ring Shea pops back to her feet. She regards the spectacle of de Cyr and de Chevalier for just an instant, then turns and sprints into the opposite ropes. Rebounding off the strands, the Sensational One races across the ring…

… and the rising pitch of the audience alerts Anciline to her longtime rival’s intentions. Without even thinking, she pushes Kathryn back a few steps before retreating herself… but the expect crash of bodies never happens. Instead of diving through the ropes, Shea instead dives into a handstand, rocking back until her legs meet the cables. The ropes propel London into one backflip followed by another, the Sensational One sticking that landing and coming out of the tumbling run in an expectant crouch.

And again, the FAWNatics roar in a mixture of cheers and invectives directed toward the two Frenchwomen on the floor.

“TAIS-TOI!” Kathryn shouts to the masses, her cheeks a very bright crimson. She was not used to being made to look a fool—not in Monaco, not in Europe, and certainly not in FAWN. “FERMEZ VOS BOUCHES IGNORANTES ET DÉGUSTANTES!”

Of course, only a handful of people in the audience understood her. And NONE of them did as she had ordered—quite the reverse, their jeers, insults, and laughter growing that much louder. A disgusted de Chevalier takes a couple of steps toward the ramp, as if she was ready to simply walk out on this contest. But even before Anciline moves to halt her retreat, Kathryn turns back toward her mentor, and toward the ring.

With the referee’s count nearing the midway point, de Chevalier is at last calm enough to return to the fight. Naturally, the Sensational One has little intention of letting the bigger, stronger blonde get back in the ring refreshed and recharged, and she moves toward the ropes. Alas, the referee attempts to intercede, and when words prove insufficient to force London back while Kathryn climbs onto the apron, he lowers himself to body the British blonde back toward mid-ring…

… and, with the official’s back to her and his head lowered, de Chevalier reaches both hands over the top rope, snatching two handfuls of hair and pulling Shea’s throat over the top rope. In the next instant, le Tueur Voluptueur hops back to the floor, dropping London’s windpipe across the taut, rubber coated steel of the top rope and sending a rasping, wheezing Shea staggering backward and buckling legs.

Rolling under the bottom rope, Kathryn is hardly disappointed to find her foe still standing. Even when a wicked European uppercut only rocks the Sensational One back on her heels instead of dropping her flat on her ass, de Chevalier sports a vengeful smile. Grabbing the back of London’s head with both hands, the French blonde drops to one knee, pulling her opponent down and DRIVING Shea’s mush into her posted knee.

BEND THE KNEE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=-_aG24rCjQM

And finally, Shea goes down. At least to her hands and knees, the wounded British Bombshell crawling toward the safety of the ropes—would that they prove safe. Not so, with Kathryn de Chevalier on her heels. Grabbing a handful of Shea’s flaxen locks, Kathryn shoves the smaller blonde’s throat down against the middle rope before slinging a leg over London’s back. The French beauty’s exquisite thigh keeps Shea’s windpipe compressed against the rubber coated steel, the Sensational One’s feet frantically stomping at the canvas, her arms flailing helplessly out in front of her. “Étouffer, salope!” de Chevalier snarls, her face twisted into a rage so intense that, when the referee begins his count, some observers suspect Kathryn might be willing to take the DQ and ride out the full five.

“ONE!
TWO!!
THREE!!!
FOUR!!!!”

Kathryn draws back, raising her hands to indicate compliance with the referee’s instructions. However, le Tueur Voluptueur protests the official’s treatment of her, in very impassioned—and very LOUD—remarks. And, while the ref is tied up defending his conduct, a wheezing Shea is left to slump against the ropes, catching her breath…

… until two hands plunge into her locks.

“Oh, I have missed ce regard,” Anciline purrs, then pulls down on her handholds.

The Sensational One’s thrashing and flailing begins anew, only with greater intensity—after all, de Cyr’s position on lower ground gave the French aristocrat significant leverage, allowing her to strangle London with even more intensity than Kathryn had been able to. Worse still for the Brit, the only people currently in a position to demand de Cyr stop her illegal assault are the FAWNatics, and though many of them do precisely that, the fans lack the authority to compel compliance.

When Anciline sees that the referee has had enough of explaining himself to her protégé, she breaks the choke, allowing Shea to tumble to her left hip with a loud gasp, one hand reaching up to massage her reddened throat. As de Chevalier approaches, a panting London again falls to all fours, and starts dragging herself toward the corner. In what perhaps amounts to an act of charity in Kathryn’s vindictive mind, she snatches some of Shea’s hair and leads the British blonde toward her intended destination. “Crawl,” de Chevalier orders her foe. “Rampez, putain de ver!”

Arriving at the corner, de Chevalier relinquishes her grip on Shea’s mane, trading it for a press of her boot to nudge Shea into the corner, the bottom turnbuckle resting between the smaller blonde’s shoulderblades. Then, perhaps predictably, that boot slides to London’s throat and presses down, continuing the assault on the Sensational One’s air supply.

“For Christ’s sake, Kathryn!” the ref snaps. “Off her throat!”

Clearly something gets lost in translation, as de Chevalier directs as much of her one hundred and thirty-five pounds down against London’s windpipe as she can.

“ONE!” the official shouts.

Kathryn responds with a melodramatic yawn.

“TWO!!
THREE!!!
FOUR!!!!”

Le Tueur Voluptueur retreats.

On the floor, de Cyr takes a step toward Shea’s corner… but when the FAWNatics voice their displeasure, Anciline advances no further, the smirk gracing her features indicative of her intent only to stir their passions rather than to add to London’s distress.

No, Kathryn proves capable of adding to that all on her own when she returns to the reeling Brit. Planting the sole of her boot against the Sensational One’s left cheek, de Chevalier thrusts her foot downward a total of five times, administering a thorough scrubbing to the smaller blonde’s mug. After the fifth pass, Kathryn turns and races across the ring, bounding off the opposite cables and returning toward Shea with a full head of steam behind her. For a SIXTH time, the Frenchwoman’s sole slams into London’s cheek, this time with enough force to turn the smaller blonde’s upper body toward the crowd and send it spilling through the gap between the bottom and middle rope. Shea’s chest comes to rest against the bottom cable, held there by Kathryn’s bum resting against her back, the French beauty’s right arm resting on the middle rope as she uses Shea’s body as a chair for the moment, while she catches her breath.

FACE WASH:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=D0m-So3a63g

The official braces himself to start another count, but to his surprise, de Chevalier pulls herself up of her own accord. Grabbing a handful of London’s locks, she then assists the battered Briton back to verticality as well, lightly shoveling her damp dishrag of an opponent back against the buckles. Grabbing Shea by the wrists, le Tueur Voluptueur plants her left foot against London’s belly and rocks back, flipping the Sensational One overhead and taking her to the mat with a tomoe-nage. Kathryn rolls through, landing in a straddle of London’s waist, her foe’s wrists still in de Chevalier’s possession as she pushes the Brit’s hands down over her head. Leaning forward in the full mount, Kathryn’s cavernous cleavage comes perilously close to engulfing Shea’s face, and it would likely have been VERY easy for the Frenchwoman to add the breast smother to this pinning predicament.

Instead, Kathryn contents herself with paintbrushing London’s features with her gurls, sweeping them up and down the Brit’s face in time with the referee’s count of…

TOMOE-NAGE INTO MOUNTED PIN:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=2AwbS1qQGWs

ONE…
TWO…
NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The British Bombshell bucks Kathryn off.

She might have escaped the pinfall, but London still finds herself sucking air and in need of a little time to recover. Alas, Kathryn de Chevalier is under no such handicap. Getting to her feet, she scrapes Shea off the mat before threading her left leg over the Sensational One’s left stem. She then slips her left arm underneath Shea’s right, locking the smaller blonde’s right arm behind de Chevalier’s back as the Frenchwoman straightens up and secures the abdominal stretch.

ABDOMINAL STRETCH:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=QJ0qZ14X2B4

Le Tueur Voluptueur places her right hand against Shea’s right hip and presses down, amping up the strain on the Sensational One’s abdominal muscles. Still, when the official asks if she wants to give up, London shakes her head. “Nuuuggghhhh… naaahhh…. Not a channnnccccuuuuuuugggghhhhh….” the smaller blonde groans, screwing her eyes shut against the increasing flames engulfing her stomach.

“Abandonne, salope,” de Chevalier demands. “Abandonne maintenant. Ceci est votre dernière chance pour la miséricorde.”

Again, London shakes her head, a little more vehemently now. “Gyyyuuunnnnhhh…” the captive blonde groans, “Shhhhuuuuhhhhh… shut yer gob, ya overinflated slaaaAAAGGGGGUUUUUUUUHHHHHHGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Vous voudrez peut-être suivre votre propre conseil,” Kathryn mutters, her lips curling into a bemused smile as she slooooowly rakes her nails across the Sensational One’s abdomen. “Ou parler plus gentiment à la femme qui tient votre âme entre ses mains.”

The French blonde’s talons are a truly insidious addition to her abdominal stretch, but there’s nothing actually illegal about it. Meanwhile, the skintight spandex across Shea’s stomach can barely maintain its integrity under the assault of de Chevalier’s nails, never mind offer her poor belly much in the way of protection. But it’s an entirely different matter when Kathryn moves her right hand to London’s eyes and begins gouging at them. The trussed up Sensational One shrieks in utter torment, her one free hand—her non-dominant hand—desperately reaching up blindly in a quest for Kathryn’s wrist.

“DAMMIT, KATHRYN!” the ref cries out, once again forced to count the bigger blonde toward disqualification.

‘ONE!
TWO!!
THREE!!!
FOUR!!!!”

On “FOUR!!!!”, the French beauty RIIIIIPS her hand away, at the same time releasing Shea from the abdominal stretch. London sinks to one knee, her right hand reaching to wipe some vision back into her bleary eyes. However, an uncharitable de Chevalier pulls the Sensational One up almost as soon as her knee touches the canvas, and whips her toward the opposite corner. Instinct tells Shea when to turn her back, and she does so just before her back SLAMS into the turnbuckle. “Nyyyuuuuhhhh,” the smaller blonde moans as her head snaps forward, arms flopping over the top rope, her exquisite legs visibly buckling from the impact.

Lifting her head on a rubbery neck, London’s eyes blink rapidly, trying to clear away the blinding whites assailing her senses that still lingers from Kathryn’s gouging. Somewhat to her surprise, however, that brightness clouds over, even before her vision returns. It takes the Brit’s addled mind an instant to ascertain the reason for this, but that proves precisely an instant too long when the Sensational One’s lithe frame is CRUSHED underneath Kathryn’s curvaceous form, the French blonde delivering an emphatic avalanche splash.

Stepping aside from the splattered London, de Chevalier slips a hand behind the Sensational One’s noggin and sends her stumbling out of the corner with a push. A drunken Shea manages to turn around to face the Frenchwoman, but then tumbles backward, landing in a sprawled heap on her back. Le Tueur Voluptueur spares a moment to look to her mentor. “Était-elle toujours aussi pathétique??” the younger French blonde asks.

“Elle a empiré,” Anciline replies, before adding with a smirk. “Je l'aurais fini maintenant.”

“Bien sur maman,” Kathryn responds with a grin, before picking up the Sensational One’s ankles. She lifts London’s legs into a loose ‘V’, but whatever she intended to do would forever be a mystery as Shea kicks her right foot free of the Frenchwoman’s grasp, then slams that foot into de Chevalier’s left knee. Caught by surprise, Kathryn falls to her knees, her left hand landing on the mat off Shea’s right hip and helping to spare the British Bombshell from receiving a very nasty headbutt…

… and that, in turn, helps London to spring her trap.

Kathryn’s head remains between Shea’s legs, as does the Frenchwoman’s right arm—and wasting no time, the British blonde slips her right foot behind her left knee, cinching her legs together while at the same time grabbing and pulling on de Chevalier’s right arm. And in the blink of eye, the FAWN Original has gone from on the ropes to administering an effective triangle choke.

POSSUM KNEE KICK & TRIANGLE CHOKE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=IxDelwLx2O0

“What do you say, Kathryn?” the official asks, unsure that he would understand whatever answer le Tueur Voluptueur might give.

Anciline’s answer is relatively easy to understand, even split between two languages. “Don’t ask questions stupides!”

As it happens, de Chevalier doesn’t offer a response—at least, not a verbal one. Gritting her teeth, the Frenchwoman works her way up to her knees. Then, placing her free hand on the deck, Kathryn pushes up to her feet, that free hand moving to Shea’s bum as she muscles the Sensational One into the air, hanging from the bigger blonde ensnared arm. Caught with very few options, the Sensational One flexes her thighs, continuing to work the triangle. Kathryn will not be denied, however, as she hoists the FAWN icon higher still, London almost seated on de Chevalier’s shoulders before the French blonde abruptly reverses course and savagely drives Shea’s back to the mat, earning her freedom with an improvised powerbomb.

POWERBOMB COUNTER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZSDSWWpiXq0

From the floor, Anciline gives her protégé a polite round of applause. “Pas mal,” de Cyr says simply, earning a half hearted scowl from her pupil. Peeling a groaning Shea off the mat, de Chevalier slips her arms underneath those of the Sensational One, applying a full nelson in preparation for racing across the ring and SLAMMING the Brit’s mug into the canvas with a bulldog…

… only a funny thing happens.

To Kathryn’s surprise, when she lifts up on the nelson, Shea leaves her feet much easier than the bigger blonde expects. To Kathryn’s alarm, the Brit’s feet hook the Frenchwoman’s thighs. London then throws her weight with all her might forward, capitalizing on the rookie’s surprise to break the nelson and swing her upper body through de Chevalier’s parted stems. Recognizing a Victory Roll when he sees it, the official slides into position for the count…

… only instead of settling into a seated cover, Shea rises to her feet, capturing Kathryn’s left boot and applying an ankle lock!

VICTORY ROLL TRANSITIONED ANKLE LOCK:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=DEfqgEJYXLQ

Pain is a universal language, and for once since her arrival, everyone in the FAWN Arena understands Kathryn de Chevalier as she pushes up on her elbows, howling in agony as the Sensational One applies the pressure to her left ankle. It’s smart strategy, not that anyone would expect less from the three time FAWN World champion: either she surrenders from the hold, or her base is weakened the longer she endures the torment, effectively neutralizing her power advantage. “You quit, Kathryn?” the ref asks, opting to keep it simple, but she shakes her head and digs in her elbows, slowly beginning to drag her way toward the ropes…

“Don’t act like ya don’t know ‘ow ta surrender, Froggie,” Shea hisses, wrenching on that ankle and momentarily stopping de Chevalier in her tracks, forcing the curvy blonde to bury her face in the canvas.

“And don’t act like you’re a fille dure,” Anciline spits from the floor. “Votre meilleur isn’t good enough anymore, London. You no longer have ce qu’il faut to defeat Kathryn, and tout le monde knows it.”

With difficulty, de Chevalier continues to drag herself toward the ropes, London giving up every single inch grudgingly. But at last, Kathryn manages to wrap a hand around the bottom rope, forcing the referee to call for a break. Snarling in disgust at the French blonde’s stubbornness, London nevertheless releases the hold promptly. The Sensational One takes a step back, allowing her foe to use the ropes to drag herself up to her feet. Gingerly, de Chevalier tests her ankle…

… and Shea moves in quickly, wrapping her arms around Kathryn’s waist. Taking advantage of her opponent having one foot off the deck, London pops her hips and bridges back, hoisting the bigger blonde off her feet and dropping her on her head and shoulders with a beautiful German suplex. With the Sensational One holding the bridge, the official slides into position and slaps off the…

ONE…
TWO…
NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Kathryn bucks loose.

Shea rolls away from the kickout, scrambling back to her feet and reaching them an instant before her opponent. Kathryn, meanwhile, continues to distrust her ankle as she takes a tentative step forward… while the Sensational One rushes toward her. Leaping into the air as she approaches, the British blonde’s knees land atop de Chevalier’s shoulders, the bigger blonde yelping as her legs give way from underneath her. London lands in a schoolgirl pin atop the curvaceous blonde’s ample chest, Shea reaching back to hook both of Kathryn’s legs underneath her arms…

LONDON BLITZ:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=x2Iu6_EU_3k

ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The Frenchwoman kicks out.

Shea pops to her feet quickly, hardly discouraged—and hardly showing any concessions with her style to her current age. Turning toward her foe, who has made it as far as her hands and knees, the Sensational One rushes forward, launching herself into a somersault and slamming her heel into the base of Kathryn’s spine.

SOMERSAULT AXE KICK:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=l7KHZs7XoD4

With de Chevalier left sprawled on her stomach, the FAWNatics are in full celebration, the sight of a London Run as beautiful in 2019 as it had always been—and made all the more sweeter by few of those witnessing having expected to ever be graced with the sight of another. Kipping up, the Sensational One hairhauls Kathryn to her feet and whips her into the far corner, following her in with a beautiful tumbling run that ends with the blonde Briton SMASHING into her succulent seins…

… and dropping the Frenchwoman flat on her derriere.

A mischievous glimmer flashes across Shea’s eyes, and a knowing murmur runs through the crowd as the smaller blonde retreats to the opposite corner. From the floor, Anciline wordlessly wills her protégé to push her way out of the corner as London sprints toward her, but her efforts go for naught. Leaving her feet, London lands atop Kathryn’s yielding pillows, Shea’s luscious legs straddling the Frenchwoman’s noggin and spilling out of the ring. Grasping the top rope with both hands, the Sensational One lifts up, only to drive her undercarriage down atop de Chevalier time and time again, the beautiful French blonde’s face receiving a thorough buffeting from London’s bronco buster.

As Shea tumbles out of her saddle, a retching de Chevalier falls forward and starts to crawl away from to corner. London slips out onto the apron, turning toward the ropes and waiting for the buxom French beauty to start climbing back to her feet. However, there is one other Frenchwoman that the Sensational One must contend with, Anciline de Cyr taking a step toward London…

… but her movements do not go unobserved, either by the British Bombshell or the referee. The official orders the aristocrat back, Shea ‘tut tut’ing de Cyr for her efforts. London then takes the top rope with both hands and rocks back, launching herself over the top rope to catch the rising de Chevalier with a slingshot DDT.

SLINGSHOT DDT:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=EeZVt5vznyE

But, unfortunately for Shea, that slight hesitation has given Kathryn enough recovery time to be ready for her. As London goes airborne, le Tueur Voluptueur takes a step backward before unloading with a THUNDEROUS European uppercut that catches the descending Sensational One flush in the jaw, and sends the British beauty crashing HARD to the canvas along the ropes. One blow silences the crowd, at least momentarily, until de Chevalier begins to put the boots to the splattered, smaller blonde, forcing Shea to the apron and then down to the floor…

… and at the feet of a suddenly shoeless Anciline de Cyr.

The official immediately puts himself between Kathryn and the ropes, determined not to let the buxom blonde follow her opponent to the outside. The Frenchwoman puts up a spirited protest, though it seems that the ref is the ONLY person in the building aware of those protests NOT to recognize it as a diversion. On the floor, de Cyr snatches a handful of Shea’s hair, dragging her up. “As I recall,” the aristocrat mutters, “your career here had une fin heureuse. Quel dommage, then, you did not leave things as they were…”

Let’s turn an eye, for a second, to Anciline de Cyr’s sartorial choices for this evening. The short, tight skirts favored in her previous appearances at Kathryn’s side would have made trapping Shea in a standing headscissors a somewhat impractical proposition, but the open split of this dress afford Anciline the freedom to shove the Sensational One’s head between her nylon-clad thighs, and to clamp them in place. Then, bending forward, the French beauty wraps her arms around London’s waist and hoists her up…

It’s worth remembering at this point that de Cyr’s dreaded Maginot Line was NEVER simply a breast smother. That smother was merely the delectable icing on the cake. No, it was the destructive powerbomb that preceded those breasts being pressed down on a rival’s face that left them as compliant in their journey to oblivion as they were. With that in mind, the prospect of Anciline swinging Shea up onto her shoulders for a powerbomb, with the thinly padded concrete floor awaiting the Sensational One as her final destination, is enough to make the FAWNatics fearful…

It would have been a mercy, compared to what Anciline actually does.

When de Cyr turns toward the apron, her cargo in the stall position astride her shoulders, London’s legion of fans barely have the time to process what is about to happen before the taller blonde violently swings Shea downward. The sound of the edge of the apron’s impact with the base of the British Bombshell’s spine is surprisingly dull, failing to capture the full magnitude of the event. Shea London’s anguished wail as she puddles on the floor, on the other hand, chills the blood of many a FAWNatic.

APRON BOMB:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=gvyTJbklDEM

A triumphant Anciline regards the shattered, sweat-slick form of her longtime nemesis with malicious intent. And, with a satisfied, sadistic smile, she softly observes, “Et ça finit…”

In the ring, de Chevalier continues to argue her case in incomprehensible terms (at least from the official’s perspective), though it seems that, at this moment, all that Kathryn and Anciline need to do is simply step aside. With the mewling, crumpled heap of boneless flesh once known as Shea London barely able to find the strength to writhe in her agony, the idea of the legendary FAWN Original managing to beat a referee’s count of ten back into the ring appears all but ludicrous…

… but it would not do.

As humiliating to Shea as a countout loss might be, it would not be enough.

No, Shea London had to be more than simply embarrassed. Shea London had to be destroyed. Shea London had to be made to regret not just her decision to return to FAWN tonight, but her decision to EVER lace up a pair of wrestling boots. Only that would serve as adequately cementing Kathryn de Chevalier’s place in the world of wrestling today.

And so, de Cyr scrapes Shea’s carcass off the floor and shovels her under the bottom rope.

Apparently, Kathryn and Anciline are on the same page, because as finished as the Sensational One looks, the younger, bigger blonde passes up the cover. Instead, she hairhauls Shea to rubbery legs and leads her into the near corner, pushing the Brit’s back against the buckles. Le Tueur Voluptueur draws back, but then fires a SAVAGE forearm smash that rocks London’s head backward, the smaller blonde slumping until her butt comes to rest atop the bottom turnbuckle. Shea’s upper body falls forward, until the Brit’s left cheek finds the comfort of Kathryn’s bosom…

CORNER FOREARM SMASH:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ObFytxOKXwg

“La patience,” de Chevalier taunts her.

Straightening her foe up, the curvaceous Frenchwoman takes Shea’s wrist and launches her across the ring with an Irish whip. London’s body responds on autopilot, her shapely but unsteady legs carrying her with little of their usual grace or speed, but they refuse to let the blonde Brit collapse before she can turn her back into the buckles, Shea letting out a plaintive groan as her arms spill over the top rope. Kathryn follows her in with an acrobatic display similar to what Shea had done against here mere minutes ago, only de Chevalier comes out of her final flip with one last indignity for the Sensational One…

HANDSPRING BYTCH SLAP:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=CM7J6fXHj8k

‘CRAAAAAAK!’

London’s noggin whips to the right following the impact of Kathryn’s palm with her left cheek, and where the head leads, Shea’s body follows. She tumbles out of the corner along the ropes, the blonde Brit’s arms spilling over the top cable as her legs give way, leaving Shea to sag against the strands. The Frenchwoman scoops London up, swinging the Sensational One upside down before stuffing her back into the corner, crossing the Brit’s ankles under the top turnbuckle and securing Shea to the Tree of Woe. Taking a step back, de Chevalier admires her handiwork, but only momentarily. Charging forward, the voluptuous blonde grabs the top rope with both hands, one to the side of each of Shea’s knees, and propels herself into a fleeting handstand… that us, until Kathryn sweeps down, DRIVING her undercarriage into London’s upended abdomen.

FALL OF THE BASTILLE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=pIwWn9ffx80

A coughing, sputtering London spills out of the Tree, her first instinct to curl into a protective shell… but her aching abs veto that impulse almost immediately. Back on her feet, Kathryn gathers a handful of Shea’s blonde locks and leads the FAWN icon crawling back toward center ring. Dragging her foe the rest of the way to her feet, de Chevalier spins the British Bombshell away from her, damp locks spilling across London’s features as her head lolls toward her own chest. Securing Shea’s arms in a double chickenwing, le Tueur Voluptueur grunts and powers her opponent off her feet, raising the legend’s body as close to the rafters as she can. Deliberately, de Chevalier turns toward all sides of the arena, showing off her trophy before finally tossing London back to the mat, the British blonde slamming down face and chest first thanks to Kathryn’s Bombe de la Tour Eiifel.

BOMBE DE LA TOUR EIFFEL:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=O965HPK3crE

Shea bounces up from the impact, rolling as far as her left hip before a nudge from the Frenchwoman’s boot puts her flat on her back. Kathryn then takes a seat atop London’s gulping tummy, facing her opponent’s feet. Her right hand gathers up the Sensational One’s limp right leg, hugging it tight to her chest. As the referee slides into position, de Chevalier’s left hand reaches backward, her fingers slipping into Shea’s locks…

ONE..
TWO…
NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The FAWNatics erupt… into boos and jeers. Before the official’s hand can hit the mat a third time, and before Shea had given ANY indication that she might be about to summon a kickout on her own, Kathryn pulls up on her hairhold, lifting London’s shoulder as the Brit’s face is pulled toward the hollow of her French foe’s back.

“C’mon, Kathryn,” the ref sighs in disgust, the crowd’s venom growing louder with each second they have to process what they’ve just witnessed. The sheer audacity of this rookie, bypassing what had looked to be a certain victory over FAWN royalty…

Le Tueur Voluptueur is unmoved by their ire. She dismounts her prey, just long enough to roll the battered British blonde to her stomach. Swinging a leg over Shea’s back, de Chevalier reaches for her opponent’s arms, applying a full nelson before settling back and effectively taking a seat on London’s tush. The Sensational One can only moan as her upper body is pulled back and up, forced damn near into a 90 degree angle, and in a manner in which her spine is NOT designed to bend.

GROUNDED SWINGING FULL NELSON:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=IWt7e-_MSBw

“Supplier!” de Chevalier commands her foe, tugging Shea’s body left and right, the Brit’s trussed up arms having little choice but to flail overhead. “ Supplie-moi de grâce! Supplie moi de t'étouffer!”

“I’ll call for the bell, Shea,” the ref tells her. “Just say…”

“FUUUUGGGGHHHH…. FUUUGGGGHHHH OFFFFFFGGGHHHHHH!!!!!” the Sensational One snaps, her eyes clinched shut against this torture, her right hand adding a finger wave that strains to appear defiant.

Kathryn relinquishes the full nelson and shoves Shea back to the canvas, the Brit’s arms almost but quite falling in front of her in time to absorb some of the impact. Hairhauling what is little more than a ragdoll now, de Chevalier turns the Sensational One so that her back is to the French beauty’s side. Threading an arm between London’s thighs, the newcomer scoops her foe onto her shoulders and into a torture rack, Kathryn’s other hand moving to claim Shea’s jaw.

“Please, Shea,” the ref almost pleads with her. “I don’t want to have to…”

His voice trails off, as what Kathryn does next mesmerizes even him, as well as the crowd. With London helplessly strapped to her shoulders, the buxom French blonde bends her legs, her backside lowering toward the canvas. Not only is she subjecting Shea to a torture rack, Kathryn is actually performing squats as well, the combination of those squats and London’s weight bearing down on her setting de Chevalier’s other rack in motion with each rise and fall.

SQUATTING TORTURE RACK:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=2u6T9F5iaoA

“Cela ne finit pas jusqu'à ce que vous demandiez grâce,” the Frenchwoman hisses, but regardless of whether or not the Sensational One can understand her, she merely mewls in agony.

She does not surrender.

Ultimately, de Chevalier discards Shea’s body as easily as she does her own vow, letting London plummet to the mat. Continuing to eschew an easy pin, le Tueur Voluptueur peels the smaller blonde off the deck, and begins to whip the British Bombshell toward the ropes…

… when Shea REVERSES the whip. No, when Shea not only reverses the whip, but reels Kathryn in, back toward her. Pivoting away from de Chevalier, the smaller blonde’s arms reach up, grabbing her opponent’s head and pulling Kathryn’s jaw over her right shoulder. In the next instant, London kicks out her legs and falls to her back.

London Calling!!!

LONDON CALLING:
youtu.be/6NCPRcQVtKE?t=347

From, as the kids say today, outta nowhere!!!

The crowd barely has time to entertain the fear that the Sensational One might be too spent to capitalize on this turn of events, before Shea rides the surge of adrenaline and THROWS herself across Kathryn’s chest. With one arm, London hooks the outside leg, while one of the Brit’s gams ensnares and hooks the inside one. En masse, the FAWNatics VAULT to their feet, counting along as the referee’s hand strikes the mat…

“ONE…
TWO…
THREE!!!!!!!!!”

The house erupts, a wide eyed Anciline’s hands plunging into her hair in horror and disbelief…

… and yet, there is no bell.

An instant before the ref’s hand could hit the mat for the last time, Kathryn throws her right fist into the air, raising her shoulder in the process. The official quickly looks to the timekeeper’s table, lest those stationed over there get caught up in the fans’ enthusiasm, holding up only two fingers and waving off any thought of ringing the bell.

As realization hits the crowd, the air goes out of the FAWN Arena… and the energy seems to drain from Shea’s body, the blonde Brit looking utterly exhausted as she rolls over, her back resting against Kathryn’s chest as she continues to recline against the fallen Frenchwoman. London’s chest heaves with each panting breath she draws in, her eyes welling in both frustration and fatigue…

Had Anciline been right?

Was her best simply not good enough anymore?

That move had put down COUNTLESS woman, some with Hall of Fame credentials equal to the Sensational One’s own. She had wasted NO time in applying the cover. And even so, this rookie, in only her third FAWN match, had survived it.

London labors to her feet, stooping down to pull de Chevalier up as well. But before she can do anything else, Kathryn stuffs a forearm shot into the Brit’s belly, the blonde ingenue attempting to reclaim her advantage. When Shea staggers back, slightly doubled, the French beauty gathers her back in, scooping the smaller blonde onto her shoulders and into a fireman’s carry…

… but the Sensational One slips her way out the back door, landing on her feet behind her taller adversary, her hands grasping Kathryn’s shoulders. London’s legs still have enough hops in them to propel herself upward, Shea drawing her knees up toward de Chevalier’s shoulderblades. Gravity then becomes Shea’s best friend as she falls backward, pulling the bigger blonde down on top of her, connecting with a wicked lungblower!

LUNGBLOWER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=OTCuQ9O1Qlw

As Kathryn tumbles to her knees and comes to rest in a face down heap, Shea gives the crowd even more reason to hope when she ignores her fatigue and kips up, drawing a roar of support from the FAWNatics as she approaches her foe. Turning to face the Frenchwoman’s feet, the Sensational One steps into the gap between de Chevalier’s thighs, bending down to cross Kathryn’s feet, hooking the rookie’s left boot against the pit of London’s left knee to keep those bound legs secured. Shea then drops back to back with her opponent, her right arm slipping underneath the jaw of le Tueur Voluptuous as the British Bombshell digs into her bag of tricks to lock on a unique variation of the STF.

MODIFIED STF:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=itdA8YP7eb4

Almost immediately, the fans seize on to this development, a chant of “TAP! TAP! TAP!” echoing throughout the FAWN Arena as the Sensational One reefs back on her facelock. The referee drops to one knee beside the entwined blondes, and opens his mouth to pose the question, but Anciline de Cyr snaps at him before he can say the words.

“This chienne britannique CANNOT défaite Kathryn!”

“Jus’ keep sayin’ tha’,” Shea mutters at her longtime rival, her groaning opponent struggling to drag herself—as well as London—across the ring and toward the ropes. “Kat ‘ere’s tha one who’s gotta believe it. An’ I’m not sure she does right now…”

The Sensational One cranks back even harder on the facelock.

“Do ya, Belisha?” the British blonde asks, earning an anguished snarl from de Chevalier. Eyes narrowing in determination, Kathryn stretches her right arm out as far as she can, her fingertips straaaaaining to claim the bottom rope…

… and, eventually, succeeding.

“Sorry, Shea,” the ref sighs. “You know you gotta break it.”

“I do,” London concedes, releasing the hold with no further protest. Pulling the Frenchwoman up, the Sensational One spins away from her opponent and swings an arm around Kathryn’s neck. She then sprints back toward the center of the ring, her legs looking remarkably fresh for everything she has endured as she tows de Chevalier along. Leaping into the air, the British blonde lays out, SLAMMING her foe’s mug into the mat with a bulldog.

Quickly rolling toward her foe, London hooks a leg, scoring the…

ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Kathryn gets a shoulder up.

Knowing she can’t afford to waste time or energy arguing, Shea rises, pulling de Chevalier up with a handful of hair. Locking the Frenchwoman’s head under her left arm, London’s other arm gathers up and hooks Kathryn’s right thigh. Popping her hips, the Sensational One grunts as she powers the larger blonde off her feet, slamming her opponent’s back into the canvas with an impressive fisherman suplex.

FISHERMAN SUPLEX:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=y8cNVFcFxuI

Scrambling after her adversary, London hauls Kathryn up, takes her wrist, sets her feet and begins to administer an Irish whip. When the smaller blonde suddenly goes to pull de Chevalier back toward her, the crowd again leaps to its feet. Surely Kathryn could not survive a SECOND London Calling, could she?

The world will have to wait beyond tonight to learn the answer to that question.

The Frenchwoman’s hands meet Shea’s back as she’s drawn in, Kathryn shoving her way clear of danger and sending an off balance Sensational One hurtling toward the near corner. London barely manages to halt her momentum before her chest and stomach collide with the turnbuckles, but before she can turn around, de Chevalier CRASHES into her from behind, splashing the British beauty into the corner. Flattened and breathless, Shea stumbles backward, arms folded in a ‘X’ across her throbbing chest as she backpedals toward danger…

Spinning Shea to face her again, de Chevalier dips and shuffles the Sensational One onto her shoulders and into a fireman’s carry. This time, there is no escape out the back, not before Kathryn begins to spin round and round and round…

AIRPLANE SPIN:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=UF8fAot5UGA

… and round… and round… AND ROUND. Furious with having allowed herself to lose control of the contest, Kathryn now looks to demonstrate her complete ownership of the FAWN Original with an airplane spin which, according to the broadcast, occupies about twenty seconds, but which those watching live in person would swear lasted about two minutes. What is beyond dispute is that Kathryn herself is left dazed by all her rotations after she roughly deposits Shea from her shoulders and to the mat, needing a moment to steady herself before advancing on the British Bombshell…

Shea struggles to push herself back to her hands and knees, her bowed head shaking away some of the dizziness… until her straining arms and legs give way, dropping her back to the canvas, the legend left on little more than fumes as de Chevalier guides Shea’s noggin between her thighs. The standing headscissors secured, le Tueur Voluptueur offers the following epitaph on Shea’s career:

“Votre journée est finie. Ma journée est ici.”

The FAWNatics groan as Kathryn’s arms start to hook the Sensational One’s, well aware that however many times the Frenchwoman had managed to thwart Shea’s finisher, London had NO hope left to come back once de Chevalier connects with her package piledriver…

… but, before she can get the smaller blonde trussed up, Shea pulls her arms free! Her hands pressing against Kathryn’s thighs, the British Bombshell lets out a determined roar as, amazingly, she finds from gawd only knows where the strength to lift de Chevalier off her feet and send le Tueur Voluptueur flying with a backdrop! As the bigger blonde hits the mat, Shea staggers forward…

… only instead of trying to halt her forward moment, London merely redirects it, turning to charge toward the ropes off of the Frenchwoman’s left flank. Closing in, the Sensational One leaps onto the middle rope, springboarding off the rubber coated steel and, in the process, turning back the clock, digging up a maneuver from some of the earliest days of her career.

LONDONSAULT:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=4iVTSeL3evU

Even her most ardent fans gasp in amazement at the elevation the Sensational One can achieve, at this stage in her career, and after this much punishment. When London’s belly crashes down atop de Chevalier’s, they explode into cheers, the momentum of her flight propelling Shea to her knees… and allowing Kathryn the freedom to roll to her stomach. It’s a surprisingly savvy move for the vulnerable rookie, denying her adversary an easy cover…

… but against Shea, she has simply gone from the frying pan to the fire.

Crawling forward, London plants her knees against Kathryn’s back, her right hand reaching to gather and cross the Frenchwoman’s boots. When the Brit’s left hand slips under de Chevalier’s chin, every FAWNatic in the building knows what will happen next: rocking to her back, the Sensational One pulls Kathryn’s body off the mat and across her knees. The rookie might have spurned London Calling, but could she find a way off London’s Bridge?

LONDON’S BRIDGE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=dKIsV8Kg3AI

Apart from the three people in the ring, there isn’t another person in the FAWN Arena who isn’t on their feet. Bound and helpless, the ropes FAAAR from her flailing arms, Kathryn de Chevalier wails and howls like the FAWNatics have never heard before. Feeding off the support of the crowd, Shea London ignores every ache and every pain that assails her as she cranks down on her foe’s chin and ankles, flexing tired but determined legs to push the Frenchwoman closer and closer to her breaking point.

“How about it, Kathryn?” the referee asks.

“NOOOONNNNNNNN!” [i[le Tueur Voluptueur[/i] screams at the top of her ample lungs. “JEEEE…. NEEE… CESSSSEEERRRAAAIIII… JAAAMMMAAAIIIIIIIIIIIAAAAAGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!”

Through gritted teeth, Shea hisses, “I… I ain’t lettin’ go! Tap or snap, slag! TAP OR SNAP!!!”

The FAWNatics echo their heroine’s sentiment. “TAP OR SNAP! TAP OR SNAP!” they chant, their volume deafening.

And finally, Kathryn has no choice.

“J'ARRÊTE!!!!!” she screams. “JE ME RENDS !!!! S'IL VOUS PLAÎT !!!!!! LÂCHEZ-MOI S'IL VOUS PLAIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

When the official fails to call for the bell, Anciline shouts at him, “ELLE SE REND, VOUS SIMPLE FOOL MIND!!!” So lost in her emotion, de Cur hurls her invectives in her native tongue, rather than in terms the referee would understand. “SHE SUBMITS!” the aristocrat forces herself to spit out in English. “SHE SURRENDERS, YOU INBRED MORON!!!”

Trusting Anciline’s translation as gospel, the official calls for the bell. And as it tolls, Shea releases the Bridge, allowing the no longer invincible de Chevalier to crumple to the mat, moaning and massaging her lower back. The official assists the utterly spent British beauty to some passing semblance of verticality.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the announcer proclaims, his voice barely audible over the roaring crowd, while Anciline de Cyr makes her way up the ring steps, “your winner, by submission… SENSATIONAL SHHHEEEAAA LOOONNNDDDOOONNN!!!!!”

Her eyes closed as she leans against the official, her right arm raised by his grasp, London brings her left hand, clenched in a fist, to her chest, tapping the center of her bosom as she nods in appreciation of the FAWNatics’ support…

Damn, she had missed this.

The best competition in the world.

The love of the best, most passionate fans in the business.

And, most importantly, she could STILL get it done!

And that’s when the Sensational One’s veteran ears register it: that change in the tenor of the crowd’s roar, when it shifts from appreciation to apprehension. Needing no further cue, London wheels around, her right arm drawn back…

… to find herself face to face with Anciline de Cyr, the French aristocrat in much the same pose.

As the two blondes stare each other down, the crowd finds itself conflicted. On the one hand, the idea of turning the clock back ten years and watching London and de Cyr tear into each other, under different circumstances, would be an entirely welcome one. But Shea had just survived an all-out war, and by the skin of her teeth. Any objective observer would advise the Sensational One to call it a night, and get out of the ring. Now.

Instead, Shea surges toward her longtime rival, Anciline responding in kind, Briton and Frenchwoman firing away with punches and forearms. And, nearly instantly, the crowds’ initial apprehension gives way to euphoric release…

Euphoric, but fleeting.

The FAWNatics might have hoped otherwise, but the reality of the situation is simple: Anciline de Cyr had always been a formidable competitor. She had often had Shea’s number over the years. She had always been the physically stronger of the two women. And she hadn’t just spent about 20 minutes fighting tooth and claw with a woman almost half her age. Therefore, while it might be disappointing, it certainly shouldn’t be surprising when the French blonde begins to get the better of the exchange, the Sensational One beginning to wither under the barrage of blows, until Anciline buries a kneelift juuuuust south of London’s navel that drops the smaller blonde to one knee.

Tugging Shea up by the wrist, de Cyr prepares to send the British blonde on her way with an Irish whip, intending to catch her rebounding rival with a sleeperhold, one that would ideally leave Shea on the brink of consciousness by about the same time Kathryn is back on her feet. But the British Bombshell slams on the brakes, reeling the Frenchwoman in…

… and for the second time tonight, Shea successfully delivers London Calling.

LONDON CALLING:
youtu.be/6NCPRcQVtKE?t=347

The Sensational One bounces up to her knees, hands on her thighs, while Anciline is left in a spasming, face down heap. Chest heaving as she gulps down air, Shea’s gaze travels from one fallen French blonde to the other, and back again.

“It is SO BLOODY GOOD ta be back,” London pants. And, though it’s doubtful the crowd heard her, the FAWNatics clearly couldn’t agree more.