Post by hawkeye on Aug 3, 2020 0:04:33 GMT
When ‘Fancy’ by Iggy Azalea and Charli XCX pumps through the arena, the crowd is immediately energized, unleashing a heavy artillery of boos. The never forgetful Kylie Corps make sure their now hated enemy pays for her traitorous years with everlasting animosity.
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O-zpOMYRi0w )
Behind the first chords of the hip-hop anthem and the ear-numbing jeers, the Pleasant Valley Pariah strides to center stage, sneer firmly in place, Sanders apparently still steaming from her loss to the beloved Lady Liberty at Summer Swelter.
Vanilla is flanked by her partner J-Dogg but without the H&B-Team, former tag teamers cousin Kristy and ‘Huggable’ Cosette LeBlanc. Both women are in their battle gear, meaning both Chill and Dogg planned to be fighting tonight.
KYLIE SANDERS
JASMINE WASHINGTON
Drawing on echoes of her original gear, Kylie sports a unique, multi-strapped yellow-gold sports bra topside with black boy-cut shorts, black boots and pads.
(https://www.yandy.com/Multi-Strapped-Microfiber-Sports-Bra.php )
On the FAWNtron behind her, ‘‘VANILLA CHILL IN DA HOUSE BYTCHES!’ appears in ten-foot high, gold letters. Jasmine tries to show off her legendary FAWN original partner as if presenting her with a grander flourish will melt the icy hearts of the fans, but Vanilla isn’t having it, brushing her away.
Quickly realizing Sanders is in a mood after her humiliating defeat by the patriotic afterthought, J-Dogg flashes signs and shakes dat ass as she leads the team in a march to the squared circle.
Dressed in a tiny black hoodie, (black version of the following: i2.photobucket.com/albums/y32/biggerb/Jasmine-clothing.jpg~original ) the rookie snaps her head back to clear the hood and her shoulder-length ebony locks behind.
Beneath the woman wears camo boy-cut trunks (http://s2.photobucket.com/user/biggerb/media/Jasmine-clothing%20below.jpg.html ) which accentuate her bootylicious backside. Below are black pads and boots.
Reaching the ring, Wash waggles her way around as if she owns the place, her face only turning sour when shying away from the extended hands of the crowd. She smirks at a sign indicating ‘Chocolate’s so much better than Vanilla!’
“They’re best together, boy!”
Chill passes on her usual lap in the opposite direction, waiting for Jas to reach her and lead the Platinum Pixie up the steps. Washington does and sits on the middle strand, pushing up the top to make plenty of room. Sanders steps through, extending her record of most FAWN matches in history by one more.
J-Dogg joins her partner in crime, swinging her plentiful seat through, both women moving to the middle, when Kylie is distracted by a growing ‘TROLL’ chant breaking through the crowd.
Ky covers her ears, screaming at the FAWNatics to shut their mouths. Needless to say, the voices grow louder as Sanders and Jasmine demand silence. Kylie demands a microphone and one is delivered post-haste.
“Shut your mouths!”
“TROLL…TROLL…TROLL!”
It’s J-Dogg’s turn to cover Ky’s ears at the Platinum Pixie’s request.
“I AM SO TIRED OF YOU LOSERS! SHUT YOUR PIEHOLES OR I’LL LEAVE RIGHT NOW!”
The crowd roars with approval and a flustered Sanders stomps her feet knowing she set them up. It does give her a better chance to break through however and she takes advantage.
“I was absolutely robbed last month by a woman who claims to represent MY COUNTRY.”
Again, the house explodes with ecstasy at the thought of Lady Liberty’s upset win from the Swelter.
“Since this is Red, White and Bruised, J-Dogg and I consider it only appropriate she put her money where her stars and stripes are and fight the real faces of the USA. If she’s truly shining seas and amber waves of grain rolled into one sappy package, she shouldn’t have any trouble at all beating us in a handicap match!”
The FAWNatics are torn, jeering the stipulation but cheering the Lady and the mere idea of her pulling off the Pursuit of Happiness on both members of Hot&Bothered instead of one.
Chill turns to the stage above, tapping a boot on the canvas.
“Well Miss American Idol. Show you don’t have a streak of yellow with that red, white and blue. We’re all waiting!”
Long seconds pass and both Jasmine and Kylie shake their heads knowingly when they are startled by the first chords of America the Beautiful, realizing the challenge has been accepted. The proud Floridians rise not only out of respect for their country but out of excitement at the arrival of the wrestler who so beautifully encompasses everything good about the Land of the Free, not to mention putting Sanders down for a three.
Their hearts are filled with pride and eyes filled with an athletic, blonde beauty in stars-n-stripes, Lady Liberty emerging from stage right. The flaring spotlights zero in on her immediate location. She smiles without hesitation, blue eyes like sapphire, curls spun from gold. She stands with one foot crossed lightly and slightly in front the other, one hand placed upon a curvy hip as she salutes crisply with the other.
LADY LIBERTY
The FAWNatics respond in kind to the angelic version of the crass, vile and thankfully MIA Polly Lockwood. This woman carries herself with absolute assurance, an unfaltering confidence that’s spellbinding, and a smile that’s nothing short of heartwarming.
Though she’d never reached stardom in equal measure with her adoration, having knocked off Kylie Sanders the previous month raised her profile from American Idol to American Hero, anyone putting Sanders in her place worthy of recognition.
Salute delivered and love returned, the Girl of Every State travels the aisle, reaching out and clasping offered hands, delivering a firm shake, pausing at intervals to engage in short, yet welcome exchanges. So much about her is an enigma, the Woman called Liberty, her identity a mystery, her accent oddly lacking any telltale regional accent and yet, somehow, combining many. She could have come from anywhere within America and many in Orlando today dare believe she comes from their hometown.
About her sublimely sporty frame she wears the colors of her country, the American Flag snugly fitting about her every crowd-pleasing curve. The sports top was white, the torch of liberty aflame across her bosom, sapphire bikini briefs decorated with a smattering of stars, her elbow pads a dazzling blue while her boots are a radiant red. She wears these colors with obvious pride amidst no irony or cynicism and it’s impossible for the patriotic FAWNatics in attendance to not love her for it.
The Lady’s pace is swift and measured, her bearing steady, the woman stepping away from the adoring public and displaying her photogenic properties as she waves to the crowd, collects a microphone from an attendant, and ascends the steel steps.
She slips into the ring between the top and middle ropes, ducking low and popping back up, nimbly ready in an instant for any underhanded attack, but Chill and J-Dogg are enjoying the show themselves, knowing together they’ll be able to rip apart the beloved blonde.
Lead ref Nick Castle guides Kylie and Jasmine to a corner, Sanders barking at the man for getting too close.
“Let her have her say, ladies,” he conciliates. “Then we’ll start the match.”
“Jasmine. Kylie. What a wonderful offer,” Lady Liberty begins. “And. As you say. This being the Pay-Per-View where we celebrate the birth of our country, how could I say no?”
Sanders and Washington grin, sharing a high five.
“Under one condition,” Liberty adds.
“What you want, white girl?” Jasmine demands. “We don’t take no offers sight unseen.”
Kylie puts a hand on her partner’s shoulder.
“Chill, Dogg,” Sanders says. “Anything you want. You name it. As long as WE get in the ring with YOU!”
Lady L nods and confirms the verbal agreement has Castle’s blessing.
“I knew I could count on you, Kylie. My stipulation is I get in the ring with you…AND HER!”
Kylie’s head snaps to the upper stage, knowing she’s been had. Jasmine’s drops, recognizing her partner’s blundered.
Ethereal chimes draw the FAWNatics to rapt attention as does the quickly following strings, transporting everyone in the arena to a faraway place and time.
Giselle’s Theme ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=oEBNIzOIbVs ) by Lindsey Stirling
Feeling part of a flight of fancy, the crow’s murmurs grow in anticipation as they wonder what beautiful heroine Lady Liberty might be calling on for help. The fans are not disappointed at first blush, the sight of a fresh-faced brunette appearing from stage right.
PRINCESS GISELLE
With the appearance of Disney royalty, the newcomer moves to center stage. There’s a smattering of applause but most gaze in wonder at a woman torn out of a fairy tale. The dark-haired beauty wears what can only be called FAWNticized Sleeping Beauty gear.
( www.amiclubwear.com/costume-storybook-jj1-4615sultrysnow.html ) red boots instead of pumps
She strides to the ring bouncing between each side of the aisle, making certain to touch each FAWNatic reaching, beaming smile melting all those around her. As she reaches the ring and takes a lap under the sneer of Sanders, Lady Liberty provides introductions to the debuting rookie.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, may I please present, hailing from the Magic Kingdom, the stunning Belle of the Brawl and my partner tonight…PRINCESS GISELLE!”
The crowd loudly demonstrates its approval, the ovation growing when Giselle lifts a silver wand high and blasts a glitter bomb into the air above.
The radiant Princess enters, moving to Liberty and swallowing her partner in an embrace while Ky demands the disgusting mess be cleaned immediately. The newly formed team turns to the fuming Hot&Bothered, each grinning from ear to ear. Kylie demands the Princess be ejected as the deal was for a handicap match, but Castle corrects her.
“You said you, Jasmine and Miss Liberty must be in the ring together. And well, you are. The stipulation you provided is valid and legal. She can have a partner.”
Sanders stomps back to her corner where J-Dogg awaits with an accusatory glare.
“Don’t even,” Kylie growls. “I want that bimbo and no minimum-wage wannabe from the Disneyworld lot is going to save her.”
“You got it,” Jasmine responds, throwing up her hands. “But if you get in trouble…”
“I WON’T!”
During the H&B convo, the Lady and the Princess migrate to their corner. The American Idol assures her new colleague, she’ll start and when Lady Liberty turns to see Chill leading off for their foes, her face lights up.
“Let’s go,” the Girl of Every State assures Nick. He nods and calls for the bell.
Lady Liberty wastes no time crossing the canvas and Sanders scuttles back toward her corner in retreat, sticking her upper half between the top and middle ropes, demanding Castle keep the blonde away. Lady L backs off with a soft smile, motioning Kylie to return. She’s slow to follow the instructions, inching in carefully. When Liberty steps toward her again, Chill shuffles toward the H&B corner and tags out to Washington, J-Dogg seemingly more than happy to take the place of the skittish Hawkeye.
The Lady doesn’t have to wait for Jasmine, J-Dogg tying up with the American Idol in a collar-and-elbow. The duo jockey for position until Jas pivots and draws Liberty into a tight side headlock. Wash grinds the blonde’s pate against her hip then balls her opposite hand and THUMPS a few closed fists into the Lady’s forehead until a scolding Castle starts a count.
“Da Man’s already helping his bytch out,” J-Dogg complains.
She adds another punch out of spite then changes her grip to a wrist, flinging Liberty to the ropes with an Irish Whip. On her return from the rubber-coated steel, the Girl of All 50 lowers a shoulder and collides into Jasmine, barely moving the Badass from Hotlanta. Jas shakes her head and sends Liberty off for another try. The Lady takes her up, hitting the ropes and rebounding before being blasted on her return, the Dogg showing her bite, leveling the blonde with a shoulder thrust of her own. Jasmine looks down at the flattened Lady. Her blue eyes wide, the American Idol watches Washington skip over her and race to the cables.
Liberty pops to her feet and takes off for the ropes perpendicular to Jasmine’s path. They bounce back and forth threatening a mid-ring collision the first two trips before Jas pounces Liberty from the side RAMMING into her foe’s right shoulder and sending the blonde flying halfway across the ring. A wide-eyed Liberty butt scoots her way to a corner and pulls up only to have Washington arrive simultaneous to her verticality.
J-Dogg goes to town, peppering Liberty with jabs and combos, Wash too quick for The Lady’s defenses, one final big right cross sends Lady L stepping in fencepost holes as she staggers out of the corner, Washington on her trail. Liberty reaches a hand out toward Giselle, hoping to bring in the Princess for her first FAWN action, but J-Dogg denies The Lady and the intrigued fans, grabbing a wrist and, not only pulling the blonde away from her backup but ripping the National Treasures into a shortarm clothesline that decleats Liberty’s boot leather from the deck, her back CRASHING against the canvas.
Jasmine, a grip still firmly around The Lady’s wrist, pulls her foe up and lays her out not one but two more times in the same manner, using the athletic American Idol like her own personal yo-yo. She hauls Liberty up one more time into a chest-to-chest bearhug, the Badass cinching her arms tight around Liberty’s midriff. Drawing a gasp from the breathless blonde, Jasmine dips then launches her foe WAY up and over with a belly-to-belly suplex, delivering Lady L’s spine to the deck. The Star-Spangled Beauty arches in agony from the fierce landing and her back curls more when Jas BURIES a stomp into the blonde’s lower spine.
With Old Glory getting her ass kicked, a perked Kylie calls for a tag, but Wash pretends not to hear. When Liberty reaches her knees, J-Dogg takes a stance on her foe’s upturned calves while capturing The Lady’s wrists. She draws Liberty’s arms across her own throat in a straightjacket grip then drops to her back, shoving the blonde to the sky above her in a Double-Knee Straightjacket Choke she calls the Creeping Jasmine.
Creeping Jasmine ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=fEH6ZH-9KoI )
Liberty struggles fruitlessly above, weakly squirming for an escape, when the effort to keep her foe elevated overcomes J-Dogg, her shoulders touching the canvas. The eagle-eyed Castle slaps the canvas for…
ONE…
TWO…
Before the café-au-lait-skinned grappler shoves Lady Liberty off in a mewling heap. Washington impresses with a kip to her feet. She moves to the reeling Lady and sinks a set of nails into her flaxen locks, yanking Lady L to her feet and leading her to the Hot&Bothered corner. Jas reaches out a palm and Sanders greedily accepts, slapping then shooting through the ropes. Jasmine provides her partner a wide-open, tanned tummy, having locked The Lady up from behind in a half-nelson and the Platinum Princess skewers the Girl of all 50 with a side kick to the ribs. Turn over complete, Washington releases and steps through, leaving the depleted Liberty in the capable hands of a grinning Kylie.
Sanders sinks her nails into the rubber-legged Lady and draws her to the center. Reaching the middle, Chill paintbrushes her foe’s face with a wicked slap.
“Not looking like our country’s finest, is she?” Kylie shouts to her former Corps, the crowd jeering the hated Hawkeye in response.
When Lady L’s face returns there’s a steeliness in the blazing blue peepers drawing a noticeable gulp from Vanilla Chill. Sanders raises her hands plaintively as the crowd begins to rev its motor. But when The Lady steps forward to press her case, Ky’s ready with a toekick to the belly that doubles over Liberty, the blonde groaning.
Sanders locks on a tight front facelock and twists to the deck, sending Lady Liberty CRASHING there with a spinning neckbreaker, leaving the National Treasure dazed, staring blankly at the rafters. Ky dives on top in a lateral press, hooking a leg for…
ONE…
Liberty kicks free with a patriot’s resolve, pushing up to a seat while a sour-faced Sanders, on one knee, pivots to the blonde’s six and thrusts a bony cap between The Lady’s shoulderblades, pulling back on both wrists to increase the stakes and the pain.
“Fluke. That’s what you are,” Kylie hisses. “You may have had your best night against me. But tonight, you get your worst. And Disney Dora isn’t gonna save the day.”
Lady Liberty leans into the painful cap and starts to rise, a disbelieving Kylie shaking her head as the American Idol reaches vertical, the Hawkeye’s second boot landing on the canvas, but only momentarily as she sweeps the leg, tripping Liberty, Ky forcing the honey blonde forward to her chest, still in possession of the handles she’s made out of The Lady’s wrists.
Pulling her foe’s upper half off the deck, Kylie places a boot behind the neck of the National Treasure and CURBSTOMPS Liberty’s face into the unforgiving mat, Lady L’s head bouncing with a sickening thud.
But instead of a pin when she releases her foe’s arms, Sanders settles in a squatting forward straddle of the shellshocked Liberty. Quickly, she slips her arms under and around those of the beloved blonde, lacing her fingers behind Liberty’s neck in a full nelson. With it locked, Kylie leeeeans back in her favorite Clutch, further working the spinal column of the woman who’d beaten her last month.
There would be no second mistake.
“Ask her!” Chill demands. “Da Man’s woman ain’t got nuthin’ left in her.”
Nick does as bade but, as much as Lady Liberty can move her head, she shakes it, keeping herself and the cheering rookie still alive.
Kylie gives the captured Lady’s noggin a neck-twisting rattle before frustration takes hold and she tosses the grimacing, groaning Lady L aside, rising and shaking out her slender ivory stems.
Jasmine claps, making it know she wants to enter, but Kylie waves her off, wanting to take her supremacy out for a spin.
Sanders waves cheekily at the newly minted roster member, Giselle desperate to enter and show her talent is no fairy tale. Sanders collects Liberty by the ears, pulling up the flaccid National Treasure while jawing at the unknown quantity in the corner.
She reaches a limp arm of the blonde toward her teammate, mocking Lady L when the limb comes to life, Liberty jerking back a pointed elbow into the mug of FAWN’s Most Hated. Kylie stumbles back a step and it’s Liberty’s chance to surge toward a tag, BEFORE the Platinum Pixie latches onto her foe’s locks from behind and RIPS Liberty to the thinly-sheathed plywood, the American Idol’s backbone painfully bouncing off the canvas.
Ky waggles a finger at PG, taunting the newbie, but Giselle’s only interested in her fallen comrade, which proves a rookie mistake. For with her focus only on the slowly rising Liberty, Kylie rushes the newcomer and leaps into a flying forearm smash to the brunette’s jaw, sending the Princess flying off the apron and crashing to the floor, her first taste of FAWN and the organization’s foremost traitor, a bitter one.
Enjoying the view of the splattered Giselle, Sanders turns her attention back to Liberty who’s up to her haunches, wobbling. Ky sinks her digits into the scalp of the American Idol to steady her target when Lady L THUMPS a fist into Kylie’s alabaster breadbasket. Sanders folds ’oooofing’ out an exhale that gets doubled when Liberty stuffs in another fist, only for Kylie to RAM a lifted knee into the blonde’s chin and stifle the comeback of the National Treasure. Liberty ends on her back staring blankly into the lights.
“I don’t think so,” Sanders says as she hovers, not that The Lady is in a condition to understand, in a fog after having her jaw jacked. “You had your fifteen minutes, nobody. It’s time for stars to shine.”
Kylie leaps into the air, pulling her ivory stems into a tuck before stomping them into the chest of the American Idol. Sanders grinds the soles into the spandex of Liberty’s top, scraping the boots off the tenderized tissue. She hops again, pivoting 90 degrees and THUMPING her boot leather into the tanned tummy of the Girl of All 50, Liberty jackknifing under the abuse before unfolding, ending flat under Vanilla Chill for the…
ONE…
The National Treasure shifts and spills Kylie off, interrupting the count. Ky raises her brows and shrugs, knowing that pinfall attempt was more for degradation than a win. She turns to her foe’s corner to find Giselle climbing back into place. She rushes the brunette and takes another swing, but the Princess ducks under a forearm and delivers one to Kylie’s chin instead. Sanders staggers away, massaging her jaw.
The Hawkeye curses under her breath. She points at the Belle of the Brawl.
“Your time’s coming Cinderella!”
Ky scowls as she strides to a neutral corner instead of the decked blonde. She ascends the buckles, face to the crowd. Sanders peeks over her shoulder at the starfished Lady and then at Giselle. “This is on you Queen of the Damned.”
Chill launches into a backflip, moonsaulting to the open midriff of the American Idol, but Liberty rolls clear leaving nothing but open canvas for the landing, the ring rattling as Kylie SLAMS into the deck. Chill rolls to her back, hugging her frame to keep the internal organs in place after the miss. Her target gets to hands and knees and crawls to the eager Princess, springing to a final dive where the new partners tickle fingers.
The crowd roars in anticipation at the entry of the newcomer, the fresh-faced brunette slipping through the cables and racing at a rising Sanders. The Princess decks Kylie with a clothesline before skidding to a stop. A scrambling Sanders is put on her back a second time with a shoulderblock when the rookie spins and charges her again. With her foe slow to rise, the Belle of the Brawl waits then sprints toward her ascending foe, CRASHING into her with a running crossbody, putting FAWN’s Most Hated on her back a third time in succession, this time with Giselle atop her for the…
ONE…
TWO…
A huffing Kylie kicks out with a second to spare.
Running on an excess of adrenaline, the Disney-adjacent creation pulls then scoops up a rocked Sanders onto a shoulder and precisely PLANTS Kylie to the canvas with a body slam and, even as the back of the Platinum Pixie arches in pain, Giselle dives into a senton, back slamming down across Kylie’s ivory abdomen. Leaning into the ready-made pin attempt, the brunette hooks both legs, rolling Chill into a tight matchbook for the…
ONE…
TWO…
The Hawkeye escapes with a shove of a shoulder off the canvas. She rolls to her chest and reaches a plaintive arm out to J-Dogg, but Jasmine’s several yards away, exhorting Chill to get her lily ass to her for an exchange.
Giselle pushes to her feet and starts a rhythmic clap, quickly getting the FAWNatics to join her as she focuses on her newly-won supporters. With a rookie mistake in the making, the FAWN original slowly struggles to wobbly feet. She’s behind the distracted brunette so an opportunity awaits, for a split second. But the Princess shows her awareness, reaching behind for a ¾ facelock over her shoulder when the head of the recovering Kylie is available.
Giselle hops into a backflip, landing on her knees while DRIVING Ky’s spine and skull into the thinly-sheathed plywood with a beautiful Shiranui.
Shiranui ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=uWoVOJtppBc ) 01:28
Quickly winning over whatever lonely souls remained on the fence, Giselle crawls to the splayed Sanders and presses tight in a crossbody pin, hooking the far leg for the pin and the win at…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
That much closer, the crowd groans in disappointment when Kylie, well-known for her ability to take punishment, kicks her way free and flops to her side, staring at a fuming Jasmine with worry.
Pushing to her feet, the Princess takes Kylie up with her, a grip on her foe’s wrist and shoulder. Ky looks spent until a flash of fingers shoots to the brunette’s dark peepers and rakes across her foe’s eyes. A blinded Giselle howls in pain, turning and stumbling away from the desperate Chill. Vanilla beelines toward her cocoa-skinned collaborator, tagging and tumbling through the ropes while Washington slips in and rushes the sightless Princess.
J-Dogg leaps into a Tornado Kick that catches a turning Giselle flush on a temple, the brunette timbering to the deck board straight, ending in a lifeless, face-down spreadeagle from Jasmine’s initial attack.
Tornado Kick ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=4QsUK_vqNfg )
The Badass from Hotlanta tarries on her haunches next to the splayed rookie.
“Ain’t no Disney Princess can deal with the streets!”
She casually knee-walks to Giselle, dropping across her in a lateral press for the…
ONE…
TWO…
The brunette’s body resuscitates, spasming loose, keeping the newborn team’s record temporarily unsullied.
Ready to end the fairy tale for the Disney-adjacent rookie, a standing Jas hovers as the dazed Giselle pushes to hands and knees. The Badass mounts the rookie from behind, scooting up Giselle’s body in a front straddle until she secures a standing headscissors. Dipping, J-Dogg collects the arms of the Princess at her elbows and spreads her foe’s arms wide.
Pushing to tiptoes, Jasmine drops to her knees SPIKING Giselle’s face into the deck, giving the newcomer a beak-busting baptism under fire.
Scissors Facebuster ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=rJlzoMSSYfg )
Wash pivots her hips, landing on her vaunted backside while flipping Giselle to her back and into another pinning predicament, J-Dogg’s legs draped over the shoulders of the Princess, Washington in a seated pin for the…
ONE…
TWO…
The Belle of the Brawl shows her tenacity, throwing a shoulder off the canvas again, refusing to allow a Hot&Bothered victory that might move the duo toward their first tag title opportunity.
With Giselle in a stunned starfish, J-Dogg rises and races to the ropes behind her. On the rebound, she sprints toward the decked Princess, skipping over her and acrobatically hitting the opposite set of cables in a handstand. The springy rubber-coated steel sends her bouncing back toward the rookie and Jas handsprings into a pretty moonsault, Jasmine CRASHING down across the midriff of the increasingly overwhelmed rookie.
Handspring Moonsault ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=YO90f9scLZw )
The Badass hooks the far leg, her frame covering tight in a crossbody for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
A worried Lady Liberty watches as Giselle proves her mettle again, kicking out of the press with Castle’s palm a few inches above the canvas.
A frustrated Jas slaps the abs of the Princess in punishment, drawing a groan from the brunette.
“Da Man’s found another stubborn little Karen for me. Dat’s alright. I’ll beat you up all night redneck royalty.”
Wash rises to her feet and moves to a reverse straddling stance of Giselle’s waist. She dips to tie up the rookie’s legs, locking them in a figure-four entwined with her controlling arms. Showing the power she could wield, Jasmine spins, turning and stacking PG onto her chest, keeping her on a mostly vertical plane while torturing both back and legs with her signature Hotlanta Clutch.
Hotlanta Clutch ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=hPHttH4BXpg )
“Ain’t no magic gonna to save you from this or me,” Jas assures. “Ya best quit now before I snap somethin’ on ya scrawny frame.”
Giselle mewls in pain, her flawless features scrunched in agony, but the rookie doesn’t give in, instead clawing her way to the cables. After seconds that feel like hours, the brunette wraps a hand around the bottom cable and Castle calls for the break. Wash holds on until ‘FOUR’ before finally unknotting the Clutch and violently tossing the stems down, Giselle’s knees hitting hard.
“Dat’s da way my Dogg does it!” Kylie shouts from the H&B corner. “Lemme see that theme park wannabe.”
The Platinum Pixie extends a hand and there’s a soft rumble of a growl, but Jasmine offers and Kylie slaps palms. Together they return to the Princess, plucking the half-risen brunette from the saving strands. Tugging her dipped head forward, both women claim it in a front facelock. Pointed toward the determined features of Lady Liberty, H&B grin malevolently. Each grabs a handful of gear on the hips of the Princess, tugs her up to a position parallel to the canvas and PLANTS her skull into the canvas with a Double DDT.
Double DDT ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=lqR7X0znLPg&t=35s )
Vanilla and Dogg roll to their feet and share a high-five over the face-down wreckage of the rookie.
“Let’s end this, Chill. We ain’t paid by the hour,” Jasmine says.
“True dat,” the Hawkeye responds. “Just gonna take a little taste of the Princess before I put her to bed.”
As Jasmine heads for the exit, and the rookie struggles to push to all fours, Sanders moves to a reverse standing straddle and drops derriere into her lower spine, forcing Giselle flat with a loud ‘oooof’. Dropping her straddle to a kneel across the brunette’s lower back, the Platinum Pixie raises an arm high, crunching the digits into a claw.
Reflexively, the former members of the Kylie Corps shout ‘Farm Hand’ and indeed Sanders sinks the talons deep into the muscle and nerve bundle just under the curve of Giselle’s left butt cheek. Her infamous hammy clamp sends spasms through the leg of the Princess. The Belle of the Brawl yanks at her long, dark locks to spread the pain as Castle gets in the grappler’s face, asking if she wants to give in. She shakes him off, mewling in pain.
After another dozen seconds of kneading her fingers deep into Giselle’s hamstring without forcing any quit from the rookie, Ky releases and pounds a fist into the alabaster meat of her foe’s hamstring. She pops to her feet and adds some stomps to the spine of the Disney-adjacent royalty.
Chill turns to a recovered Liberty.
“This was your big surprise? This is all ya got?”
As she debates the beloved blonde, Giselle reaches hands and knees and drags her ‘dead leg’ toward the American Idol. Sanders smirks at the inch-by-inch effort and moves between the Princess and her partner, though she continues to direct her ire at Lady Liberty.
“What makes ya wanna be the next Polly Lockwood, sweetheart?”
“I want to erase that awful stain if you must know,” Lady L responds. “She was a terrible fun house mirror reflection of this country. She’s gone, but it’s not good enough.”
Ky seems to give the answer some legitimate thought before blurting, “Too bad you’re not good enough to do it.”
Sanders swipes a slap at the National Treasure’s cheek, but Liberty leans back and out of range, ready for Chill’s chicanery.
Disappointed at the miss, Kylie returns her attention to the captive audience in the ring when she hears a yell from J-Dogg. The Platinum Pixie spins with a punch at the ready for a standing Princess. However, Giselle’s still throbbing left leg hasn’t allowed it. Still, the rookie’s able to scramble on hands and knee between Kylie’s alabaster stems and dive to a tag of the Girl from All 50. Spinning to face the entering Lady, Kylie backs off, throwing up plaintive hands. A stone-faced Liberty has her in a backpedal.
“But it’s g…good g…goal,” Kylie stammers. “Th…th…this country could use someone l…l…like you.”
As The Lady closes in, Sanders sends a toe kick forward to stab the tanned tummy of her foe, but Liberty is ready, catching the limb before she can drive the boot home. Ky ‘washes some windows’ with her palms now. “I love America,” she bleats.
Sanders follows those encouraging words with liftoff, the Hawkeye pushing off her planted foot and swinging an enziguri kick toward Liberty’s temple. The American Idol ducks under, Kylie’s free leg sweeping over the top. To her credit, she breaks her opposite number free on the swing-and-miss and manages to stick a landing on the canvas. Unfortunately for her, it’s in front of Liberty’s right side.
The National Treasure wraps one arm around Sanders’ waist, the other behind her near leg. Liberty launches Vanilla Chill, twisting as she does to gain better control of the airborne Kylie, then flipping her over and sitting out, POUNDING the Platinum Princess into the plywood with her signature Red Glare.
Red Glare ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=2lC7zCDdnz8 )
A demolished Kylie is rolled to her back and Liberty covers for…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
Not taking any chances, Jasmine rushes inside the ring and plucks The Lady off the lateral press of her partner. She half-shoves, half-whips the beloved blonde to the nearest corner, the one populated by Giselle.
If J-Dogg is concerned about going into enemy territory, she doesn’t show it, following Liberty, looking to splash the Yankee Doodle right out of the star-spangled grappler. But a shove from Giselle ejects her teammate in time and Washington finds nothing but buckles, RAMMING her chest into the top as she flies in.
Grabbing Jas by a wrist, Liberty drags the dazed Dogg out of the corner, wheels her around 270 degrees and sends her flying over the top cable. But Jasmine manages to hold onto the American Idol’s limb like a soup bone and together they tumble over the ropes, crashing to the apron outside before THUMPING to a meaty THWACK on the thinly-padded concrete.
While the action spills to the outside, an attentive Castle keeps his eyes on the ascending Princess, the brunette moving to the top quickly. As Giselle sets to launch, Nick confirms to the FAWNatics she’s the legal partner courtesy her earlier shove of Liberty and the rookie vaults into the Orlando night, collapsing into a tuck at the zenith of her flight before spreading wide and CRUSHING the splayed Sanders with her signature Splash Mountain.
Splash Mountain ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=JzsnTKwEFSc )
Kylie shudders under the enormous impact across her ivory abs and settles beneath the Princess as the crowd goes wild with the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
Ever obstinate, the Pleasant Valley Pariah shoves a shoulder up, rolling to her chest, groaning and wrapping an arm around her roiling tummy as the rookie rises to her feet, disappointed but determined.
As Kylie tries to push to all fours, the Princess takes off for the cables behind her. If Splash Mountain couldn’t do the job, a trip to Space Mountain would. She races after the rebound and reach Sanders on hands and knees. Using the back of Kylie’s neck as a launch pad, Giselle leaps into the air and drops a HUGE leg, SPIKING Chill’s face into the canvas.
Space Mountain ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=uWoVOJtppBc ) 3:27
The annihilated Kylie absently rolls to her back after the explosive impact and the rookie’s fairy tale night continues when she drops across the splayed, unconscious body of FAWN’s Most Hated for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THREEEE!
Giselle releases Kylie’s flaccid, hooked leg and pushes to her haunches, running her hands through her long dark tresses. She beams in what seems a bit of disbelief as she’s just pinned a FAWN legend in her first match.
As the bell tolls, Liberty lands a forearm shiver to a distracted J-Dogg, putting the Badass from Hotlanta on her ass. The National Treasure slides in under the bottom rope and pulls the Princess to her feet, scooping under her partner’s arms and embracing her as the ring announcer makes it official.
“Your winners via pinfall Princess Giselle and Lady Liberty!”
As the crowd, already on their feet, rattle the arena walls with their ovation, the victors pull apart. Liberty shows off her partner, raising Giselle’s right arm high as both stand over an insensate Chill, the Platinum Princess further tarnished by the growing goodness Liberty and now Giselle represent.
On the outside, a risen Jasmine leans against the apron and takes in the tableau, softly shaking her head in astonishment, emotion and energy drained.
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O-zpOMYRi0w )
Behind the first chords of the hip-hop anthem and the ear-numbing jeers, the Pleasant Valley Pariah strides to center stage, sneer firmly in place, Sanders apparently still steaming from her loss to the beloved Lady Liberty at Summer Swelter.
Vanilla is flanked by her partner J-Dogg but without the H&B-Team, former tag teamers cousin Kristy and ‘Huggable’ Cosette LeBlanc. Both women are in their battle gear, meaning both Chill and Dogg planned to be fighting tonight.
KYLIE SANDERS
JASMINE WASHINGTON
Drawing on echoes of her original gear, Kylie sports a unique, multi-strapped yellow-gold sports bra topside with black boy-cut shorts, black boots and pads.
(https://www.yandy.com/Multi-Strapped-Microfiber-Sports-Bra.php )
On the FAWNtron behind her, ‘‘VANILLA CHILL IN DA HOUSE BYTCHES!’ appears in ten-foot high, gold letters. Jasmine tries to show off her legendary FAWN original partner as if presenting her with a grander flourish will melt the icy hearts of the fans, but Vanilla isn’t having it, brushing her away.
Quickly realizing Sanders is in a mood after her humiliating defeat by the patriotic afterthought, J-Dogg flashes signs and shakes dat ass as she leads the team in a march to the squared circle.
Dressed in a tiny black hoodie, (black version of the following: i2.photobucket.com/albums/y32/biggerb/Jasmine-clothing.jpg~original ) the rookie snaps her head back to clear the hood and her shoulder-length ebony locks behind.
Beneath the woman wears camo boy-cut trunks (http://s2.photobucket.com/user/biggerb/media/Jasmine-clothing%20below.jpg.html ) which accentuate her bootylicious backside. Below are black pads and boots.
Reaching the ring, Wash waggles her way around as if she owns the place, her face only turning sour when shying away from the extended hands of the crowd. She smirks at a sign indicating ‘Chocolate’s so much better than Vanilla!’
“They’re best together, boy!”
Chill passes on her usual lap in the opposite direction, waiting for Jas to reach her and lead the Platinum Pixie up the steps. Washington does and sits on the middle strand, pushing up the top to make plenty of room. Sanders steps through, extending her record of most FAWN matches in history by one more.
J-Dogg joins her partner in crime, swinging her plentiful seat through, both women moving to the middle, when Kylie is distracted by a growing ‘TROLL’ chant breaking through the crowd.
Ky covers her ears, screaming at the FAWNatics to shut their mouths. Needless to say, the voices grow louder as Sanders and Jasmine demand silence. Kylie demands a microphone and one is delivered post-haste.
“Shut your mouths!”
“TROLL…TROLL…TROLL!”
It’s J-Dogg’s turn to cover Ky’s ears at the Platinum Pixie’s request.
“I AM SO TIRED OF YOU LOSERS! SHUT YOUR PIEHOLES OR I’LL LEAVE RIGHT NOW!”
The crowd roars with approval and a flustered Sanders stomps her feet knowing she set them up. It does give her a better chance to break through however and she takes advantage.
“I was absolutely robbed last month by a woman who claims to represent MY COUNTRY.”
Again, the house explodes with ecstasy at the thought of Lady Liberty’s upset win from the Swelter.
“Since this is Red, White and Bruised, J-Dogg and I consider it only appropriate she put her money where her stars and stripes are and fight the real faces of the USA. If she’s truly shining seas and amber waves of grain rolled into one sappy package, she shouldn’t have any trouble at all beating us in a handicap match!”
The FAWNatics are torn, jeering the stipulation but cheering the Lady and the mere idea of her pulling off the Pursuit of Happiness on both members of Hot&Bothered instead of one.
Chill turns to the stage above, tapping a boot on the canvas.
“Well Miss American Idol. Show you don’t have a streak of yellow with that red, white and blue. We’re all waiting!”
Long seconds pass and both Jasmine and Kylie shake their heads knowingly when they are startled by the first chords of America the Beautiful, realizing the challenge has been accepted. The proud Floridians rise not only out of respect for their country but out of excitement at the arrival of the wrestler who so beautifully encompasses everything good about the Land of the Free, not to mention putting Sanders down for a three.
Their hearts are filled with pride and eyes filled with an athletic, blonde beauty in stars-n-stripes, Lady Liberty emerging from stage right. The flaring spotlights zero in on her immediate location. She smiles without hesitation, blue eyes like sapphire, curls spun from gold. She stands with one foot crossed lightly and slightly in front the other, one hand placed upon a curvy hip as she salutes crisply with the other.
LADY LIBERTY
The FAWNatics respond in kind to the angelic version of the crass, vile and thankfully MIA Polly Lockwood. This woman carries herself with absolute assurance, an unfaltering confidence that’s spellbinding, and a smile that’s nothing short of heartwarming.
Though she’d never reached stardom in equal measure with her adoration, having knocked off Kylie Sanders the previous month raised her profile from American Idol to American Hero, anyone putting Sanders in her place worthy of recognition.
Salute delivered and love returned, the Girl of Every State travels the aisle, reaching out and clasping offered hands, delivering a firm shake, pausing at intervals to engage in short, yet welcome exchanges. So much about her is an enigma, the Woman called Liberty, her identity a mystery, her accent oddly lacking any telltale regional accent and yet, somehow, combining many. She could have come from anywhere within America and many in Orlando today dare believe she comes from their hometown.
About her sublimely sporty frame she wears the colors of her country, the American Flag snugly fitting about her every crowd-pleasing curve. The sports top was white, the torch of liberty aflame across her bosom, sapphire bikini briefs decorated with a smattering of stars, her elbow pads a dazzling blue while her boots are a radiant red. She wears these colors with obvious pride amidst no irony or cynicism and it’s impossible for the patriotic FAWNatics in attendance to not love her for it.
The Lady’s pace is swift and measured, her bearing steady, the woman stepping away from the adoring public and displaying her photogenic properties as she waves to the crowd, collects a microphone from an attendant, and ascends the steel steps.
She slips into the ring between the top and middle ropes, ducking low and popping back up, nimbly ready in an instant for any underhanded attack, but Chill and J-Dogg are enjoying the show themselves, knowing together they’ll be able to rip apart the beloved blonde.
Lead ref Nick Castle guides Kylie and Jasmine to a corner, Sanders barking at the man for getting too close.
“Let her have her say, ladies,” he conciliates. “Then we’ll start the match.”
“Jasmine. Kylie. What a wonderful offer,” Lady Liberty begins. “And. As you say. This being the Pay-Per-View where we celebrate the birth of our country, how could I say no?”
Sanders and Washington grin, sharing a high five.
“Under one condition,” Liberty adds.
“What you want, white girl?” Jasmine demands. “We don’t take no offers sight unseen.”
Kylie puts a hand on her partner’s shoulder.
“Chill, Dogg,” Sanders says. “Anything you want. You name it. As long as WE get in the ring with YOU!”
Lady L nods and confirms the verbal agreement has Castle’s blessing.
“I knew I could count on you, Kylie. My stipulation is I get in the ring with you…AND HER!”
Kylie’s head snaps to the upper stage, knowing she’s been had. Jasmine’s drops, recognizing her partner’s blundered.
Ethereal chimes draw the FAWNatics to rapt attention as does the quickly following strings, transporting everyone in the arena to a faraway place and time.
Giselle’s Theme ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=oEBNIzOIbVs ) by Lindsey Stirling
Feeling part of a flight of fancy, the crow’s murmurs grow in anticipation as they wonder what beautiful heroine Lady Liberty might be calling on for help. The fans are not disappointed at first blush, the sight of a fresh-faced brunette appearing from stage right.
PRINCESS GISELLE
With the appearance of Disney royalty, the newcomer moves to center stage. There’s a smattering of applause but most gaze in wonder at a woman torn out of a fairy tale. The dark-haired beauty wears what can only be called FAWNticized Sleeping Beauty gear.
( www.amiclubwear.com/costume-storybook-jj1-4615sultrysnow.html ) red boots instead of pumps
She strides to the ring bouncing between each side of the aisle, making certain to touch each FAWNatic reaching, beaming smile melting all those around her. As she reaches the ring and takes a lap under the sneer of Sanders, Lady Liberty provides introductions to the debuting rookie.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, may I please present, hailing from the Magic Kingdom, the stunning Belle of the Brawl and my partner tonight…PRINCESS GISELLE!”
The crowd loudly demonstrates its approval, the ovation growing when Giselle lifts a silver wand high and blasts a glitter bomb into the air above.
The radiant Princess enters, moving to Liberty and swallowing her partner in an embrace while Ky demands the disgusting mess be cleaned immediately. The newly formed team turns to the fuming Hot&Bothered, each grinning from ear to ear. Kylie demands the Princess be ejected as the deal was for a handicap match, but Castle corrects her.
“You said you, Jasmine and Miss Liberty must be in the ring together. And well, you are. The stipulation you provided is valid and legal. She can have a partner.”
Sanders stomps back to her corner where J-Dogg awaits with an accusatory glare.
“Don’t even,” Kylie growls. “I want that bimbo and no minimum-wage wannabe from the Disneyworld lot is going to save her.”
“You got it,” Jasmine responds, throwing up her hands. “But if you get in trouble…”
“I WON’T!”
During the H&B convo, the Lady and the Princess migrate to their corner. The American Idol assures her new colleague, she’ll start and when Lady Liberty turns to see Chill leading off for their foes, her face lights up.
“Let’s go,” the Girl of Every State assures Nick. He nods and calls for the bell.
Lady Liberty wastes no time crossing the canvas and Sanders scuttles back toward her corner in retreat, sticking her upper half between the top and middle ropes, demanding Castle keep the blonde away. Lady L backs off with a soft smile, motioning Kylie to return. She’s slow to follow the instructions, inching in carefully. When Liberty steps toward her again, Chill shuffles toward the H&B corner and tags out to Washington, J-Dogg seemingly more than happy to take the place of the skittish Hawkeye.
The Lady doesn’t have to wait for Jasmine, J-Dogg tying up with the American Idol in a collar-and-elbow. The duo jockey for position until Jas pivots and draws Liberty into a tight side headlock. Wash grinds the blonde’s pate against her hip then balls her opposite hand and THUMPS a few closed fists into the Lady’s forehead until a scolding Castle starts a count.
“Da Man’s already helping his bytch out,” J-Dogg complains.
She adds another punch out of spite then changes her grip to a wrist, flinging Liberty to the ropes with an Irish Whip. On her return from the rubber-coated steel, the Girl of All 50 lowers a shoulder and collides into Jasmine, barely moving the Badass from Hotlanta. Jas shakes her head and sends Liberty off for another try. The Lady takes her up, hitting the ropes and rebounding before being blasted on her return, the Dogg showing her bite, leveling the blonde with a shoulder thrust of her own. Jasmine looks down at the flattened Lady. Her blue eyes wide, the American Idol watches Washington skip over her and race to the cables.
Liberty pops to her feet and takes off for the ropes perpendicular to Jasmine’s path. They bounce back and forth threatening a mid-ring collision the first two trips before Jas pounces Liberty from the side RAMMING into her foe’s right shoulder and sending the blonde flying halfway across the ring. A wide-eyed Liberty butt scoots her way to a corner and pulls up only to have Washington arrive simultaneous to her verticality.
J-Dogg goes to town, peppering Liberty with jabs and combos, Wash too quick for The Lady’s defenses, one final big right cross sends Lady L stepping in fencepost holes as she staggers out of the corner, Washington on her trail. Liberty reaches a hand out toward Giselle, hoping to bring in the Princess for her first FAWN action, but J-Dogg denies The Lady and the intrigued fans, grabbing a wrist and, not only pulling the blonde away from her backup but ripping the National Treasures into a shortarm clothesline that decleats Liberty’s boot leather from the deck, her back CRASHING against the canvas.
Jasmine, a grip still firmly around The Lady’s wrist, pulls her foe up and lays her out not one but two more times in the same manner, using the athletic American Idol like her own personal yo-yo. She hauls Liberty up one more time into a chest-to-chest bearhug, the Badass cinching her arms tight around Liberty’s midriff. Drawing a gasp from the breathless blonde, Jasmine dips then launches her foe WAY up and over with a belly-to-belly suplex, delivering Lady L’s spine to the deck. The Star-Spangled Beauty arches in agony from the fierce landing and her back curls more when Jas BURIES a stomp into the blonde’s lower spine.
With Old Glory getting her ass kicked, a perked Kylie calls for a tag, but Wash pretends not to hear. When Liberty reaches her knees, J-Dogg takes a stance on her foe’s upturned calves while capturing The Lady’s wrists. She draws Liberty’s arms across her own throat in a straightjacket grip then drops to her back, shoving the blonde to the sky above her in a Double-Knee Straightjacket Choke she calls the Creeping Jasmine.
Creeping Jasmine ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=fEH6ZH-9KoI )
Liberty struggles fruitlessly above, weakly squirming for an escape, when the effort to keep her foe elevated overcomes J-Dogg, her shoulders touching the canvas. The eagle-eyed Castle slaps the canvas for…
ONE…
TWO…
Before the café-au-lait-skinned grappler shoves Lady Liberty off in a mewling heap. Washington impresses with a kip to her feet. She moves to the reeling Lady and sinks a set of nails into her flaxen locks, yanking Lady L to her feet and leading her to the Hot&Bothered corner. Jas reaches out a palm and Sanders greedily accepts, slapping then shooting through the ropes. Jasmine provides her partner a wide-open, tanned tummy, having locked The Lady up from behind in a half-nelson and the Platinum Princess skewers the Girl of all 50 with a side kick to the ribs. Turn over complete, Washington releases and steps through, leaving the depleted Liberty in the capable hands of a grinning Kylie.
Sanders sinks her nails into the rubber-legged Lady and draws her to the center. Reaching the middle, Chill paintbrushes her foe’s face with a wicked slap.
“Not looking like our country’s finest, is she?” Kylie shouts to her former Corps, the crowd jeering the hated Hawkeye in response.
When Lady L’s face returns there’s a steeliness in the blazing blue peepers drawing a noticeable gulp from Vanilla Chill. Sanders raises her hands plaintively as the crowd begins to rev its motor. But when The Lady steps forward to press her case, Ky’s ready with a toekick to the belly that doubles over Liberty, the blonde groaning.
Sanders locks on a tight front facelock and twists to the deck, sending Lady Liberty CRASHING there with a spinning neckbreaker, leaving the National Treasure dazed, staring blankly at the rafters. Ky dives on top in a lateral press, hooking a leg for…
ONE…
Liberty kicks free with a patriot’s resolve, pushing up to a seat while a sour-faced Sanders, on one knee, pivots to the blonde’s six and thrusts a bony cap between The Lady’s shoulderblades, pulling back on both wrists to increase the stakes and the pain.
“Fluke. That’s what you are,” Kylie hisses. “You may have had your best night against me. But tonight, you get your worst. And Disney Dora isn’t gonna save the day.”
Lady Liberty leans into the painful cap and starts to rise, a disbelieving Kylie shaking her head as the American Idol reaches vertical, the Hawkeye’s second boot landing on the canvas, but only momentarily as she sweeps the leg, tripping Liberty, Ky forcing the honey blonde forward to her chest, still in possession of the handles she’s made out of The Lady’s wrists.
Pulling her foe’s upper half off the deck, Kylie places a boot behind the neck of the National Treasure and CURBSTOMPS Liberty’s face into the unforgiving mat, Lady L’s head bouncing with a sickening thud.
But instead of a pin when she releases her foe’s arms, Sanders settles in a squatting forward straddle of the shellshocked Liberty. Quickly, she slips her arms under and around those of the beloved blonde, lacing her fingers behind Liberty’s neck in a full nelson. With it locked, Kylie leeeeans back in her favorite Clutch, further working the spinal column of the woman who’d beaten her last month.
There would be no second mistake.
“Ask her!” Chill demands. “Da Man’s woman ain’t got nuthin’ left in her.”
Nick does as bade but, as much as Lady Liberty can move her head, she shakes it, keeping herself and the cheering rookie still alive.
Kylie gives the captured Lady’s noggin a neck-twisting rattle before frustration takes hold and she tosses the grimacing, groaning Lady L aside, rising and shaking out her slender ivory stems.
Jasmine claps, making it know she wants to enter, but Kylie waves her off, wanting to take her supremacy out for a spin.
Sanders waves cheekily at the newly minted roster member, Giselle desperate to enter and show her talent is no fairy tale. Sanders collects Liberty by the ears, pulling up the flaccid National Treasure while jawing at the unknown quantity in the corner.
She reaches a limp arm of the blonde toward her teammate, mocking Lady L when the limb comes to life, Liberty jerking back a pointed elbow into the mug of FAWN’s Most Hated. Kylie stumbles back a step and it’s Liberty’s chance to surge toward a tag, BEFORE the Platinum Pixie latches onto her foe’s locks from behind and RIPS Liberty to the thinly-sheathed plywood, the American Idol’s backbone painfully bouncing off the canvas.
Ky waggles a finger at PG, taunting the newbie, but Giselle’s only interested in her fallen comrade, which proves a rookie mistake. For with her focus only on the slowly rising Liberty, Kylie rushes the newcomer and leaps into a flying forearm smash to the brunette’s jaw, sending the Princess flying off the apron and crashing to the floor, her first taste of FAWN and the organization’s foremost traitor, a bitter one.
Enjoying the view of the splattered Giselle, Sanders turns her attention back to Liberty who’s up to her haunches, wobbling. Ky sinks her digits into the scalp of the American Idol to steady her target when Lady L THUMPS a fist into Kylie’s alabaster breadbasket. Sanders folds ’oooofing’ out an exhale that gets doubled when Liberty stuffs in another fist, only for Kylie to RAM a lifted knee into the blonde’s chin and stifle the comeback of the National Treasure. Liberty ends on her back staring blankly into the lights.
“I don’t think so,” Sanders says as she hovers, not that The Lady is in a condition to understand, in a fog after having her jaw jacked. “You had your fifteen minutes, nobody. It’s time for stars to shine.”
Kylie leaps into the air, pulling her ivory stems into a tuck before stomping them into the chest of the American Idol. Sanders grinds the soles into the spandex of Liberty’s top, scraping the boots off the tenderized tissue. She hops again, pivoting 90 degrees and THUMPING her boot leather into the tanned tummy of the Girl of All 50, Liberty jackknifing under the abuse before unfolding, ending flat under Vanilla Chill for the…
ONE…
The National Treasure shifts and spills Kylie off, interrupting the count. Ky raises her brows and shrugs, knowing that pinfall attempt was more for degradation than a win. She turns to her foe’s corner to find Giselle climbing back into place. She rushes the brunette and takes another swing, but the Princess ducks under a forearm and delivers one to Kylie’s chin instead. Sanders staggers away, massaging her jaw.
The Hawkeye curses under her breath. She points at the Belle of the Brawl.
“Your time’s coming Cinderella!”
Ky scowls as she strides to a neutral corner instead of the decked blonde. She ascends the buckles, face to the crowd. Sanders peeks over her shoulder at the starfished Lady and then at Giselle. “This is on you Queen of the Damned.”
Chill launches into a backflip, moonsaulting to the open midriff of the American Idol, but Liberty rolls clear leaving nothing but open canvas for the landing, the ring rattling as Kylie SLAMS into the deck. Chill rolls to her back, hugging her frame to keep the internal organs in place after the miss. Her target gets to hands and knees and crawls to the eager Princess, springing to a final dive where the new partners tickle fingers.
The crowd roars in anticipation at the entry of the newcomer, the fresh-faced brunette slipping through the cables and racing at a rising Sanders. The Princess decks Kylie with a clothesline before skidding to a stop. A scrambling Sanders is put on her back a second time with a shoulderblock when the rookie spins and charges her again. With her foe slow to rise, the Belle of the Brawl waits then sprints toward her ascending foe, CRASHING into her with a running crossbody, putting FAWN’s Most Hated on her back a third time in succession, this time with Giselle atop her for the…
ONE…
TWO…
A huffing Kylie kicks out with a second to spare.
Running on an excess of adrenaline, the Disney-adjacent creation pulls then scoops up a rocked Sanders onto a shoulder and precisely PLANTS Kylie to the canvas with a body slam and, even as the back of the Platinum Pixie arches in pain, Giselle dives into a senton, back slamming down across Kylie’s ivory abdomen. Leaning into the ready-made pin attempt, the brunette hooks both legs, rolling Chill into a tight matchbook for the…
ONE…
TWO…
The Hawkeye escapes with a shove of a shoulder off the canvas. She rolls to her chest and reaches a plaintive arm out to J-Dogg, but Jasmine’s several yards away, exhorting Chill to get her lily ass to her for an exchange.
Giselle pushes to her feet and starts a rhythmic clap, quickly getting the FAWNatics to join her as she focuses on her newly-won supporters. With a rookie mistake in the making, the FAWN original slowly struggles to wobbly feet. She’s behind the distracted brunette so an opportunity awaits, for a split second. But the Princess shows her awareness, reaching behind for a ¾ facelock over her shoulder when the head of the recovering Kylie is available.
Giselle hops into a backflip, landing on her knees while DRIVING Ky’s spine and skull into the thinly-sheathed plywood with a beautiful Shiranui.
Shiranui ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=uWoVOJtppBc ) 01:28
Quickly winning over whatever lonely souls remained on the fence, Giselle crawls to the splayed Sanders and presses tight in a crossbody pin, hooking the far leg for the pin and the win at…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
That much closer, the crowd groans in disappointment when Kylie, well-known for her ability to take punishment, kicks her way free and flops to her side, staring at a fuming Jasmine with worry.
Pushing to her feet, the Princess takes Kylie up with her, a grip on her foe’s wrist and shoulder. Ky looks spent until a flash of fingers shoots to the brunette’s dark peepers and rakes across her foe’s eyes. A blinded Giselle howls in pain, turning and stumbling away from the desperate Chill. Vanilla beelines toward her cocoa-skinned collaborator, tagging and tumbling through the ropes while Washington slips in and rushes the sightless Princess.
J-Dogg leaps into a Tornado Kick that catches a turning Giselle flush on a temple, the brunette timbering to the deck board straight, ending in a lifeless, face-down spreadeagle from Jasmine’s initial attack.
Tornado Kick ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=4QsUK_vqNfg )
The Badass from Hotlanta tarries on her haunches next to the splayed rookie.
“Ain’t no Disney Princess can deal with the streets!”
She casually knee-walks to Giselle, dropping across her in a lateral press for the…
ONE…
TWO…
The brunette’s body resuscitates, spasming loose, keeping the newborn team’s record temporarily unsullied.
Ready to end the fairy tale for the Disney-adjacent rookie, a standing Jas hovers as the dazed Giselle pushes to hands and knees. The Badass mounts the rookie from behind, scooting up Giselle’s body in a front straddle until she secures a standing headscissors. Dipping, J-Dogg collects the arms of the Princess at her elbows and spreads her foe’s arms wide.
Pushing to tiptoes, Jasmine drops to her knees SPIKING Giselle’s face into the deck, giving the newcomer a beak-busting baptism under fire.
Scissors Facebuster ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=rJlzoMSSYfg )
Wash pivots her hips, landing on her vaunted backside while flipping Giselle to her back and into another pinning predicament, J-Dogg’s legs draped over the shoulders of the Princess, Washington in a seated pin for the…
ONE…
TWO…
The Belle of the Brawl shows her tenacity, throwing a shoulder off the canvas again, refusing to allow a Hot&Bothered victory that might move the duo toward their first tag title opportunity.
With Giselle in a stunned starfish, J-Dogg rises and races to the ropes behind her. On the rebound, she sprints toward the decked Princess, skipping over her and acrobatically hitting the opposite set of cables in a handstand. The springy rubber-coated steel sends her bouncing back toward the rookie and Jas handsprings into a pretty moonsault, Jasmine CRASHING down across the midriff of the increasingly overwhelmed rookie.
Handspring Moonsault ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=YO90f9scLZw )
The Badass hooks the far leg, her frame covering tight in a crossbody for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
A worried Lady Liberty watches as Giselle proves her mettle again, kicking out of the press with Castle’s palm a few inches above the canvas.
A frustrated Jas slaps the abs of the Princess in punishment, drawing a groan from the brunette.
“Da Man’s found another stubborn little Karen for me. Dat’s alright. I’ll beat you up all night redneck royalty.”
Wash rises to her feet and moves to a reverse straddling stance of Giselle’s waist. She dips to tie up the rookie’s legs, locking them in a figure-four entwined with her controlling arms. Showing the power she could wield, Jasmine spins, turning and stacking PG onto her chest, keeping her on a mostly vertical plane while torturing both back and legs with her signature Hotlanta Clutch.
Hotlanta Clutch ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=hPHttH4BXpg )
“Ain’t no magic gonna to save you from this or me,” Jas assures. “Ya best quit now before I snap somethin’ on ya scrawny frame.”
Giselle mewls in pain, her flawless features scrunched in agony, but the rookie doesn’t give in, instead clawing her way to the cables. After seconds that feel like hours, the brunette wraps a hand around the bottom cable and Castle calls for the break. Wash holds on until ‘FOUR’ before finally unknotting the Clutch and violently tossing the stems down, Giselle’s knees hitting hard.
“Dat’s da way my Dogg does it!” Kylie shouts from the H&B corner. “Lemme see that theme park wannabe.”
The Platinum Pixie extends a hand and there’s a soft rumble of a growl, but Jasmine offers and Kylie slaps palms. Together they return to the Princess, plucking the half-risen brunette from the saving strands. Tugging her dipped head forward, both women claim it in a front facelock. Pointed toward the determined features of Lady Liberty, H&B grin malevolently. Each grabs a handful of gear on the hips of the Princess, tugs her up to a position parallel to the canvas and PLANTS her skull into the canvas with a Double DDT.
Double DDT ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=lqR7X0znLPg&t=35s )
Vanilla and Dogg roll to their feet and share a high-five over the face-down wreckage of the rookie.
“Let’s end this, Chill. We ain’t paid by the hour,” Jasmine says.
“True dat,” the Hawkeye responds. “Just gonna take a little taste of the Princess before I put her to bed.”
As Jasmine heads for the exit, and the rookie struggles to push to all fours, Sanders moves to a reverse standing straddle and drops derriere into her lower spine, forcing Giselle flat with a loud ‘oooof’. Dropping her straddle to a kneel across the brunette’s lower back, the Platinum Pixie raises an arm high, crunching the digits into a claw.
Reflexively, the former members of the Kylie Corps shout ‘Farm Hand’ and indeed Sanders sinks the talons deep into the muscle and nerve bundle just under the curve of Giselle’s left butt cheek. Her infamous hammy clamp sends spasms through the leg of the Princess. The Belle of the Brawl yanks at her long, dark locks to spread the pain as Castle gets in the grappler’s face, asking if she wants to give in. She shakes him off, mewling in pain.
After another dozen seconds of kneading her fingers deep into Giselle’s hamstring without forcing any quit from the rookie, Ky releases and pounds a fist into the alabaster meat of her foe’s hamstring. She pops to her feet and adds some stomps to the spine of the Disney-adjacent royalty.
Chill turns to a recovered Liberty.
“This was your big surprise? This is all ya got?”
As she debates the beloved blonde, Giselle reaches hands and knees and drags her ‘dead leg’ toward the American Idol. Sanders smirks at the inch-by-inch effort and moves between the Princess and her partner, though she continues to direct her ire at Lady Liberty.
“What makes ya wanna be the next Polly Lockwood, sweetheart?”
“I want to erase that awful stain if you must know,” Lady L responds. “She was a terrible fun house mirror reflection of this country. She’s gone, but it’s not good enough.”
Ky seems to give the answer some legitimate thought before blurting, “Too bad you’re not good enough to do it.”
Sanders swipes a slap at the National Treasure’s cheek, but Liberty leans back and out of range, ready for Chill’s chicanery.
Disappointed at the miss, Kylie returns her attention to the captive audience in the ring when she hears a yell from J-Dogg. The Platinum Pixie spins with a punch at the ready for a standing Princess. However, Giselle’s still throbbing left leg hasn’t allowed it. Still, the rookie’s able to scramble on hands and knee between Kylie’s alabaster stems and dive to a tag of the Girl from All 50. Spinning to face the entering Lady, Kylie backs off, throwing up plaintive hands. A stone-faced Liberty has her in a backpedal.
“But it’s g…good g…goal,” Kylie stammers. “Th…th…this country could use someone l…l…like you.”
As The Lady closes in, Sanders sends a toe kick forward to stab the tanned tummy of her foe, but Liberty is ready, catching the limb before she can drive the boot home. Ky ‘washes some windows’ with her palms now. “I love America,” she bleats.
Sanders follows those encouraging words with liftoff, the Hawkeye pushing off her planted foot and swinging an enziguri kick toward Liberty’s temple. The American Idol ducks under, Kylie’s free leg sweeping over the top. To her credit, she breaks her opposite number free on the swing-and-miss and manages to stick a landing on the canvas. Unfortunately for her, it’s in front of Liberty’s right side.
The National Treasure wraps one arm around Sanders’ waist, the other behind her near leg. Liberty launches Vanilla Chill, twisting as she does to gain better control of the airborne Kylie, then flipping her over and sitting out, POUNDING the Platinum Princess into the plywood with her signature Red Glare.
Red Glare ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=2lC7zCDdnz8 )
A demolished Kylie is rolled to her back and Liberty covers for…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
Not taking any chances, Jasmine rushes inside the ring and plucks The Lady off the lateral press of her partner. She half-shoves, half-whips the beloved blonde to the nearest corner, the one populated by Giselle.
If J-Dogg is concerned about going into enemy territory, she doesn’t show it, following Liberty, looking to splash the Yankee Doodle right out of the star-spangled grappler. But a shove from Giselle ejects her teammate in time and Washington finds nothing but buckles, RAMMING her chest into the top as she flies in.
Grabbing Jas by a wrist, Liberty drags the dazed Dogg out of the corner, wheels her around 270 degrees and sends her flying over the top cable. But Jasmine manages to hold onto the American Idol’s limb like a soup bone and together they tumble over the ropes, crashing to the apron outside before THUMPING to a meaty THWACK on the thinly-padded concrete.
While the action spills to the outside, an attentive Castle keeps his eyes on the ascending Princess, the brunette moving to the top quickly. As Giselle sets to launch, Nick confirms to the FAWNatics she’s the legal partner courtesy her earlier shove of Liberty and the rookie vaults into the Orlando night, collapsing into a tuck at the zenith of her flight before spreading wide and CRUSHING the splayed Sanders with her signature Splash Mountain.
Splash Mountain ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=JzsnTKwEFSc )
Kylie shudders under the enormous impact across her ivory abs and settles beneath the Princess as the crowd goes wild with the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
Ever obstinate, the Pleasant Valley Pariah shoves a shoulder up, rolling to her chest, groaning and wrapping an arm around her roiling tummy as the rookie rises to her feet, disappointed but determined.
As Kylie tries to push to all fours, the Princess takes off for the cables behind her. If Splash Mountain couldn’t do the job, a trip to Space Mountain would. She races after the rebound and reach Sanders on hands and knees. Using the back of Kylie’s neck as a launch pad, Giselle leaps into the air and drops a HUGE leg, SPIKING Chill’s face into the canvas.
Space Mountain ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=uWoVOJtppBc ) 3:27
The annihilated Kylie absently rolls to her back after the explosive impact and the rookie’s fairy tale night continues when she drops across the splayed, unconscious body of FAWN’s Most Hated for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THREEEE!
Giselle releases Kylie’s flaccid, hooked leg and pushes to her haunches, running her hands through her long dark tresses. She beams in what seems a bit of disbelief as she’s just pinned a FAWN legend in her first match.
As the bell tolls, Liberty lands a forearm shiver to a distracted J-Dogg, putting the Badass from Hotlanta on her ass. The National Treasure slides in under the bottom rope and pulls the Princess to her feet, scooping under her partner’s arms and embracing her as the ring announcer makes it official.
“Your winners via pinfall Princess Giselle and Lady Liberty!”
As the crowd, already on their feet, rattle the arena walls with their ovation, the victors pull apart. Liberty shows off her partner, raising Giselle’s right arm high as both stand over an insensate Chill, the Platinum Princess further tarnished by the growing goodness Liberty and now Giselle represent.
On the outside, a risen Jasmine leans against the apron and takes in the tableau, softly shaking her head in astonishment, emotion and energy drained.