Post by hawkeye on Oct 5, 2020 0:18:42 GMT
The status of ‘It Girl’ ripped from her by tonight’s foe months ago, The Brat listened intently as a FAWN legend and fellow California Quake assured Braddock she would reclaim her status.
“This is Mania, Kat,” Chrissy Daniel informed. And though the information is obvious, the meaning sank in as Braddock nodded knowingly. “Attack her. Every moment. Like she took something from you. And she wants to take more. Because I guarantee it. She does.”
Chrissy NAILED Kat with an open hand to the chest.
“TAKE…IT…BACK!”
The rattling sound of an earthquake rumbled through the arena’s speakers after the impact and Braddock turned to the entry, pushing through on her own, the transition to Van Halen's ‘Beautiful Girls’ accompanying her, the unmistakable vibration of Eddie's signature riff tearing through the air.
BEAUTIFUL GIRLS:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=bJ9h2m06sFQ
No longer just the song for one of the GOATs of the organization, three-time World Champion Chrissy Daniel, the musical baton is passed to her curvy, Gen Z Quake counterpart, the ill-mannered, ass-kicking blonde brat moving to center stage. Kat Braddock settled and let the hate wash over her, hazel eyes shut, grin blossoming.
KAT BRADDOCK:
The blonde fireplug offered the crowd a shake of her head, giving her long flaxen locks a flip over a shoulder, before heading to tonight’s fight. The relationship between the well-named Brat and the crowd continued to speed downhill as Kat flipped the sellout assemblage the bird.
With a unique combination of a young Kylie’s features and a young Chrissy’s body and mean streak to match, it’s clear why so many think she had a chance to be a leader in a new generation of wrestling. And tonight’s battle provided the perfect chance to fight out of a career cul-de-sac and get back in that stream’s flow. The Quake strode down the ramp and aisle, casting an occasional glance from side to side, sneering at the mob.
The busty blonde youngster reached the ring in her remarkably well-knit, green crocheted bikini. She sported green pads and black ankle boots to complete the wardrobe.
Dawdling at the bottom of the ring steps, Kat collected a microphone and only then ascended and entered, the co-rookie of the year in 2019 claiming the ring as The Brat’s playground. She took a slow look around the confines before her gaze settled on the front-facing lens.
As Van Halen faded, the Announcer broke in with his introduction.
“Tonight’s next match will be won by the LAST WOMAN STANDING and has a thirty minute time limit. First. From Newport Beach, California. Standing five feet two inches tall and weighing in at one hundred and twenty-four pounds. The Brat. KAT BRADDOCK!”
The arena echoed with enmity, the vocal and virulent distaste quite impressive for someone so early in her career.
Properly introduced, the Cali Quake drew the amplifier to parted lips.
“Shut your mouths and let the future speak.”
The fans did anything but.
“I beat down Bridget’s little lacky. It was fun. But it’s nothing like the satisfaction I’ll receive by showing all of you Bridget’s the flash in the pan you wish I was. And what better way to prove it than show she can’t get up when I shove her off the mountain.”
Braddock literally dropped the mic and backpedaled to her corner, her eyes trailing to the upper stage, waiting for her foe’s arrival.
“And introducing her opponent, hailing from Stillwater Minnesota, she stands at five feet five inches tall and weighs in tonight at one hundred and thirty-five pounds. They call her the Sweet Disaster, this is BRIDGET STROUD!”
BE LEGENDARY:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kmidz2s4scM
The ’Mania crowd sprang to their feet when the lights went purple and a dozen spotlights played over that mass of humanity. Then the speakers offered up Pop Evil’s ‘Be Legendary’ and the ‘tron showed selections from Stroud’s ever lengthening highlight reel interspersed with footage from her rock climbing career. The chaotic sweep of lights continued through most of the first verse, though their pace seemed to increase as the sound system roared:
Our name in stone, forever more.
We want more!
We want more!
We want more!
BRIDGET STROUD:
The spots honed in on the entryway with the third recitation and Bridget exploded through the curtain, the former rock-climber turned indy wrestling darling turned meteoric FAWN star star skidding to a stop at the top of the stage just to throw her arms up for a brawny double bicep flex. Chants of ‘SWEET DIS-AS-TER!’ rang out at once, a building roar crafted by fans of her indy stint as well as the new fans she’d made since hitting Orlando the year prior.
Looking remarkably calm for someone making her very first appearance on the biggest show on FAWN’s calendar, Minnesota Wild pumped a fist for the fans before she pivoted ‘round on one heel and swung her hips in time to their chant while pointing to the ‘Sweet Disaster’ stretched across her purple briefs.
Another about-face followed shortly thereafter and the copper-skinned brunette hardbody took off down the ramp, Bridget going with arms outstretched to return the favor to everyone who greeted her so warmly. For tonight’s trip up Mt. Bratty, Stroud wore her usual purple trunks, a halter-style bikini top with one cup done in matching purple and the other in a gleaming white, purple and white armbands that crisscrossed at bicep and forearm to meet at wrist and shoulder, white pads with a purple splatter pattern and purple wrestling boots that ended a few inches shy of her knees. A study in frenetic energy the entire way to ringside, Bridget made a high-speed circuit of the front row, then leapt to the apron to the top rope and stayed there for a several seconds to bask in the roar of the crowd. Once she hopped down Stroud jogged over to referee Al Carpenter.
“You ever called a Last Woman Standing match, Al?” she asked.
“A few, admittedly.” the official confirmed.
“So you’ve got a good counting pace worked out?”
“Oh yeah. The usual standing ten, maybe a little slower to make the brass happy. They love those dramatic last second returns. Why?”
“No reason. But do me a favor and slow it down a little more when Bratty’s trying to pick herself up off the mat. I’m not gonna let her leave this ring with any excuses.”
“Probably shouldn’t do that, don’t wanna invite calls of bias. You’re more than welcome to hit her harder, that’s well within the confines of the rules.”
“Well then I’ll just have to do that. See ya at the top, Al.” Bridget tipped him a jaunty salute as she headed to her corner.
The absence of the other Quakes didn’t seem to hamper Kat’s confidence in the slightest. If anything the blonde Brat was out of her corner a little quicker than normal because there was no one in her ear when the bell sounded. Bridget moved just as fast, her usually bright features drawn into a determined scowl no doubt caused by unpleasant Slaybor Day memories.
Pace quickening as the distance shrank, Braddock and Stroud reared back on their heels to lunge at one another only for Bridget to almost lose her balance when Kat stuffed both hands against her chest for a rough shove! “Who do you think you are, huh?” Braddock sneered at the brunette as she regained her footing. “Just trying to walk up on me like I didn’t obliterate your putz ass back at Slaybor Day? Hey, how’d your head feel when you woke up from those Kat NaNGH!”
Stroud was still a little outside of punchin’ range so she popped off a gorgeous vertical leap and THWHAPPED the heels of both boots into Kat’s dangerous curves! The Standing Dropkick put Braddock flat on the deck but she scrambled upright in the span between heartbeats and threw herself into Sweet Disaster for a rough Collar & Elbow. Bridget cried out when the Quake snatched at her hair, then returned the favor with interest to earn a pained hiss from Braddock.
Patently uninterested in the more technical aspects of their clinch, Bridget and Kat used their free hands to deliver quick, sharp slaps to her opponent’s face before crushing opposing cheeks between thumb and forefinger. This simultaneous fish-facing meant neither wrestler could do more than snarl in unintelligible rage as they stamped around in an awkward little circle fighting for position.
Bridget had the height advantage but Kat had leverage on her side, as evidenced by the brusque way she took control of the lock-up and marched the former rock climber into the nearest corner. Pressing in far harder than was necessary after she’d smudged Stroud’s back and buttocks against the buckles, Braddock ‘SMECKED’ the sinewy brunette with a trio of truncated Avalanche Splashes, then mounted the bottom rope and abandoned the grapple to snake her arms around Bridget’s head!
“Yeah, hide your face in there, putz!” the Brat demanded as she forced Stroud’s startled features into the furious furnace of her décolletage. “Hide all you want, it’s not gonna stop this Quake from swallowing you wholHUUURRRGGGHH!”
Bridget began her time in the Front Sleeper swatting and pushing at the blonde’s biceps. Finding no escape route there, she looped her arms around the Beach Kat’s midsection and answered with a gut-churning counter squeeze! The unexpected pressure caused Kat to involuntarily loosen her grip, which in turn allowed Bridget to twist her head to the side.
“Gonna squeeze you nice and tight, Brat.” Stroud’s breath was hot and angry against her opponent’s curves. “Gonna squeeze the quit right out of youMMMRRRHHH!”
Bridget’s face disappeared for a second time once Kat snatched a whole lotta hair and stuffed the brunette’s protesting mug back into her cleavage. “C’MON!” Braddock slammed her tummy against Bridget’s to better reinforce the full body domination. “C’mon, you think you can ride this out, putz? Show me what you UUURRRGGGGHH!”
Bridget yoked up on the Bear Hug and powered out of the corner, only by a few steps, but still enough to rob the Quake of her perch. Of course oxygen was still at a premium so rather than match Braddock pulse for pulse, she whipped ‘round in a half circle and lunged into the corner, BWUNGING Kat’s back against the middle buckle! Drawing in a loud breath when her chin popped clear of the blonde’s breasts, Bridget backpedaled out of the corner and dipped her knees in a deep crouch only to toss the fireplug blonde halfway across the squared circle with an Overhead Belly to Belly Suplex!
OVERHEAD BELLY TO BELLY SUPLEX:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=YUCyo7aktck
Kat THWHAMMED spine-first against the thinly-sheathed plywood, bounced to a seat and spun to one knee, her face twisted with rage. “Get out here, putz.” Braddock barked as she returned to verticality. “These tremors are just getting startOOFFFFHHH!”
Bridget came out of the corner low and fast, Minnesota Wild lowering a shoulder and launching off her back foot to THWHUMP a heavy Spear into the bit of Kat’s belly! The Brat landed hard on her shoulders and might’ve tumbled over onto her stomach if Stroud hadn’t kept an arm cinched around her waist. Holding Braddock close as she clambered to one knee, Bridget tugged Kat to a seat, then settled down on her knees and snuggled in against the blonde’s right flank. Knees splayed wide, Stroud got as low as she could before strapping her second Bear Hug around the Quake’s sturdy waist.
“Nnnnnngggghhhhh!” Kat crooked her right arm into a ‘V’ and drove the point of her elbow between Bridget’s shoulders in an effort to break the hold. “Eeeerrrrggghhh leggo bytch!” Braddock hit another elbow or two, then went to work trying to get that arm around her opponent’s noggin.
“Nuh uh, baby.” Stroud emphasized the negation with another strong squeeze. “You’re not going anywherNGH! NGH! NGH!”
Kat couldn’t quite wriggle into the proper position to complete the Front Facelock, however she could at least keep Sweet Disaster’s head under control. That was better than nothing, so she balled her left hand into a fist and began to pwak-pwak-pwak-pwak half a dozen mad little punches in above her foe’s right hip. Angered by her inability to pop the lock on her rival’s grip, Kat crooked that hand into a talon and draaaaaaaaaaaagged it up the brunette’s flank!
Teeth bared as she endured the Quake’s savage scraping, Stroud fought to one knee and squeezed that much harder, her knotted fists gouging in above the seated wrestler’s hip. “Better knock off that mean girl shyt right now, Kitty.” Bridget huffed between each painful pass. “Test me and you’re not gonna like what AAAAAWWWWWW BYTCH!”
Not about to acquiesce to any demand from the scrawny putz, Braddock traded in her claw for a huge handful of waistband that she promptly transformed into a ‘Mania worthy wedgie! “Order me around again, putz!” Kat yanked the distended material from side to side, baring a couple more inches of Bridget’s backside in the process. “I’ll split you up the middle just before I crush you through the matAAAARRRRGGGHHH!”
Stroud answered tog tugging with teeth, Sweet Disaster helping herself to a mouthful of Bratty-back ribs! Powerless to bring an end to either of these infractions, Al Carpenter continued to circle at a safe distance while blonde and brunette slowly but surely fought their way upright.
Using the wedgie as a tether, Braddock twisted / squirmed her way through the Hug until she was looking directly down the other wrestler’s back. “Gotcha!” Kat cinched her right arm around Stroud’s neck and yoked up on a proper Front Facelock! The gurgle of breath against her side confirmed Braddock finally had her hooks set deep so she abandoned the wedgie to clasp her hands and thum-thum-thum-THUMP several quick Kneelifts into Bridget’s chest!
Stroud ‘ooofffhed’ and crumpled to one knee but still wouldn’t give up her grip around the blonde’s ribs, much to Kat’s disgust. Shifting back to the one-armed Front Facelock so she could THWHAP a heavy Overhand Forearm Smash across the taller woman’s shoulders, Braddock glared out at the crowd and shouted, “You think this piece of trash is the future? You’re looking at the future, dweebs! The California Quakes are here to shake the foundations of HEYWHOANGH!”
Bridget powered back to her feet, then popped her hips and slung Kat up, over and down, the startled blonde landing hard on her hip and shoulder courtesy of the Release Northern Lights Suplex!
RELEASE NORTHERN LIGHTS SUPLEX:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=sesd3ml6Wk0
The sturdy Braddock rolled to her feet from the spine-jarring impact, a hand glued to her lower vertebrae. Face etched in pain, the blonde turned toward a risen Bridget and was immediately gutted with a kneecap to her flat if un-chiseled tummy. Kat’s eyes went wide as she doubled, a burst of an exhale escaping her lips.
Stroud wrapped both arms around the belly of the blonde from overhead, then showed off the strength in her climber’s arms, vaulting the beach fighter into the air and flipping her to a place across her right shoulder, Kat pointed to the rafters. The Sweet Disaster brought her foe down in emphatic fashion, Braddock tumbling from the heights, landing across the posted knee of the dark-haired warrior. Ending atop the plank of the genuflecting Bridget’s left leg, Braddock sounded like she’s about to vomit, her midriff ravaged by the landing from Stroud’s Gutwrench Gutbuster.
GUTWRENCH GUTBUSTER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=4YMB0w96BBU
Kat rolled off the leg, landing on her back. She fidgeted from side to side, hugging her abdomen, fighting for breath. Stroud rose to her feet and hovered, taking the liberty to raise a hand toward the crowd, generating an extremely favorable response.
Quickly turning her attention back to the quaking Quake, she motioned to Carpenter, silently asking whether this was good to start a count. It’s early enough Al hadn’t thought to apply the rule, but he did on Bridget’s urging, reaching ‘THREE’ as Braddock painfully rolled up to all fours. At ‘FIVE’ the blonde’s up, if stooped and retreating, begging off with a plaintive palm as she edged toward the corner behind her.
But a sudden burst of adrenaline seemed to recharge The Brat and she raced out from the buckles, charging the approaching Stroud. Kat leapt at Bridget with a Crossbody Splash, hoping to use her fireplug frame to PLANT her rival.
Too late to avoid the impact, the athletic Bridget added some back-flipping energy to the collision and managed to turn it into a crazy Moonsault Fallaway Slam that brought the crowd to its feet, the counter allowing the Disaster to wreak the same on the startled then flatted blonde.
MOONSAULT FALL AWAY SLAM:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=pfnAlAOxjP0
Instantly aware there’s no pin worthy of an attempt under the Last Woman Standing rules, Stroud pushed to her haunches next to the splayed and gurgling Braddock, Kat’s arms now reflexively ending around her churning gut as she rotated to a shoulder and hip.
“You have to reach your feet before I can start counting,” Castle reminded the ‘It Girl’ and Stroud softly nodded her head.
“I know,” came the reply. “She’s earned more.” Bridget huffed patiently as Kat rolled to her chest and pushed to hands and knees. She collected the catty Kat with a handful of hair and rips The Brat to her feet as she rose, bullying the shorter woman to the ropes and flinging her out with an Irish Whip.
Braddock hit the cables and rebounded, still grimacing from the abuse she’s endured as she raced toward a stationed Stroud. Bridget perfectly times an upward thrust of her hands to Braddock’s chest, shoving her foe several feet in the air, then LAID KAT OUT with a Pop-Up Forearm Smash. Braddock ended in a wide spreadeagle, staring blankly at the rafters above.
POP-UP FOREARM SMASH:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=1YleegSvlGI
“THAT you can count on,” Bridget informed the official.
Al did as he’s told, reaching ‘FIVE’ before The Brat stirred. Bell fully rung, Kat finally shook out the cobwebs with a rattle of her noggin, allowing her to comprehend the rising count. Forced to hurry to a knee at ‘SEVEN’ she pushed up at ‘NINE’, immediately staggering before being THUMPED by a stiff forearm of the regular variety from Minnesota Wild that put The Brat on her ass again.
Carpenter waved to the Timekeeper to make sure he understood this trip to the mat required a new count, Kat having legally broken the initial one. Upon the blonde landing, she turned and rolled out under the bottom rope. Landing on the floor, still off-balance, Braddock backpedaled to the barrier, crashing hard enough to draw a pained look, but maintaining verticality.
Kat stared into the ring hatefully, Bridget beaming and bidding her back in as Castle started yet another count, this one toward The Brat’s disqualification.
One arm wrapped around her midriff, Braddock pushed away from the steel divider and moved to the apron’s edge.
“Get her back!” she demanded. Carpenter did the best he could with the energetic Peak Topper. But as Kat’s halfway through, Stroud barreled by the zebra, only to have Braddock thrust a dipped shoulder into Bridget’s breadbasket! Stroud was sent stumbling back a few steps, gasping for air. It gives the Cali Quake enough time to fully enter and stride to the brunette.
But Bridget’s prepared, shooting a Toe Kick at her favorite sweet spot, Braddock’s flat if soft belly. The Brat’s ready at the well this time, catching Stroud’s foot at the ankle before it could gouge into her tummy. Kat threw the raised stem away from her with as much force as she could muster and the pendulum-like heave of her foe’s right stem sent Stroud’s body swinging forward in response, the Sweet Disaster face-planting into the deck.
Kat shoveled Bridget to her back with a shove of a boot under the Disaster’s side, the dazed Stroud flopping into a single file. At her foe’s feet, Chrissy’s protégé kicked Bridget’s legs wide, took a step back and dropped to the canvas, noggin leading the way as The Brat butted into Bridget’s crotch!
Stroud shot to a seated position, hands buried between her thighs, dark eyes bulging. Kat rose to her haunches between the stems, reveling in the anguish in the ‘It Girl’s peepers. She leaned forward, wrapping her arms behind the head of her foe, easing Bridget’s features forward and into The Brat’s cavernous cleavage.
Resuscitating wildly, flailing from side to side within the mammary mask, the writhing Stroud broke free from Kat’s Front Sleeper before the Quake could lock it in. The taste of Kat’s bosom still on her lips, Bridget butt-scooted away from The Brat before cornering herself against a bottom buckle.
Center stage, Kat sprinted forward, leaping from a few feet out with her abbreviated legs extended. Her junk THUMPED into Bridget’s chin as her ample backside CRASHED into the climber’s chest. And the ride was on. Kat broke the Peak Topper with pelvic thrust after thrust, the demoralized crowd reflexively counting to the full ‘TEN’ despite their distaste for Chrissy’s protégé.
Having cratered the brunette with her Bronco Busting, Braddock dismounted and Bridget crumpled to the canvas, the blonde pulling Bridget out by her heels a few feet and dropped the leaden legs, taking the ropes out of play for any assist back to vertical.
“Finish the ‘Shyt Girl’ off, Carpenter.” Kat demanded.
And when he wasn’t instant in his count, she added an insistent “NOW!”
The lanky official got to it once he was satisfied Stroud wasn’t stirring. “ONE… TWO… THREE… FOUR… FIVE…”
Stroud rolled to all fours en route to reaching one knee. It wasn’t actually enough to break Carpenter’s count, yet it was enough to convince Kat that the brunette poseur hadn’t learned her lesson quite yet. Stomping over to the penitent battler, Braddock lashed out with a short, snide kick that knocked Bridget from her knees to her backside. “Nuuuhhh… nasty bytch.” Stroud groaned. “Of course you couldn’t do a damned thing until you went loEEERRRGGGHH!”
The Brat snatched a handful of hair, turned her back on the seated brunette and promptly thrust her medicine ball backside into her opponent’s forehead! “I’m sorry, no one’s here to listen to your loser whining, putz!” Kat teased. “But please whimper your complaint directly into my ass,” the blonde rammed her glutes against Bridget’s head a second time, “and I’ll address it just as soon as I’m done kicking the shyt out of you!”
Stroud raised her hands in an effort to ward off Braddock’s buns but all she really did was goad Kat into a tawdry hip waggle that raised a prolonged ‘whoooooooooaaah!’ from those assembled before she THWHUMPED her churlish cheeks into Bridget’s face with enough force to knock the brunette flat!
BRATTY HIP SMASHES:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZMaqsJS_9eg
Al stepped up to start another count, only to clear off when Kat threatened to Chop the stripes off his shirt. “Really should have stayed out of our way, beeyotch.” Braddock told Stroud as she peeled her off the deck with a double handful of hair. “Crofton’s got stepping stone written all over her face and if you’d let Ave and I have our way, we’d have no beef, but you had to step up and defy us Quakes, didn’t you?”
Too woozy from those Bratty Butt Blasts to provide a proper answer, Bridget settled for an angry groan when Braddock traded in the hair-hold for a grinding Bear Hug.
“Thought you were gonna crush me out, huh?” Kat squeezed harder, jerked Stroud up on tiptoe and shook her from side to side, the smaller wrestler clearly relishing her control. “It’s high time you learned why I’m the Brat and you’re just a BYTCH!”
Beach Kat 2020 loosened the Hug for the sole purpose and sliding her cinched arms south to the former rock climber’s upper thighs. Her fists knotted just beneath the swell of Bridget’s tush, Kat went up on tiptoe then sank to one knee, all the better to THWHUNK Stroud crotch-first atop the plank of her posted thigh!
The Inverted Atomic Drop made Bridget knock-kneed without actually taking her off her feet so Braddock took hold of one wrist and sent her racing / waddling into the ropes on the far side of the squared circle. Bridget’s pace looked or less normal during her return trip but the lingering ache of the Atomic Drop made her defenses sluggish meaning she couldn’t stop Kat from bracing both hands against her torso and shooting her skyward. Arms windmilling in an effort to ensure a safe landing, Stroud left herself exposed for the Brat’s most explosive Hip Attack yet, Braddock DRIVING her derriere into Bridget’s chest the instant she touched down!
POP-UP HIP ATTACK:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=1ZYVCjpkUak
Stroud hit the deck and flopped onto her stomach, the brunette possibly trying to defend against a non-existent pin in the depths of her Butt Shock. As for Kat she didn’t go for a pin or call Carpenter over for a count, rather she planted her left foot between Bridget’s splayed stems and took command of Sweet Distaster’s left foot. She quickly trapped the brunette’s ankle in the pit of her right knee, then grabbed her right ankle and angled her opponent’s lower leg so it was wedged against her own encroaching leg shin-on-shin.
“Everything you felt before? Those were just tremors, putz!” Kat leaned over, caught hold of Bridget’s wrists and craaaaaaaaaaanked her arms up and back in a spine-wrenching Surfboard.
“RRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHHH!” Stroud shook her head ‘no, no, no!’ to deny the submission Braddock hadn’t demanded.
The Brat jounced her prey’s wrists for a few more seconds before she raised her right foot and let it hang between the other wrestler’s shoulders. “What you’re feeling now? That’s the BIG ONE!” Kat stamped down and released Stroud’s wrists to THA-WHAM her down flat on her face with a vicious Curb Stomp!
THE BIG ONE!
www.youtube.com/watch?v=DSMDrHWLeDU
Bridget settled out in a facedown sprawl that finally convinced the Quake to bring Carpenter over. “Putz is DONE!” Kat sneered. “Count to a hundred if you want, it won’t matter!”
Al made no reply save for the start of his count. “ONE… TWO… THREE… FOUR… FIVE… SIX… SEVEN…” Bridget planted her palms on the mat and powered to one knee with a weary groan. “EIGHT… NI--”
Al called off the count when Kat buried her hands in Stroud’s dark locks and bullied her to verticality. “Being a putz isn’t humiliating enough, is that it?” Braddock slapped Bridget in the mouth once, twice, three times! “You wanna be paste instead? I got you, baby.”
Chrissy’s cruel protégé slipped an arm between the brunette’s thighs, hooked the other over her shoulders and scooped her into the air just to THUMP her down in the middle of the ring. With Stroud stretched out atop that canvas fault line, Kat made her way to the nearest corner, slipped out onto the apron and made her way to the top floor. High risk offense wasn’t exactly a Quake specialty, yet the Brat looked quite a home as she straightened up and treated the FAWNatics to a pair of middle fingers. Snorting as their disdain shook the rafters, Bridget leapt out into the void and executed a perfect mid-air toe touch just to stretch out full length and TWAWHAM down onto Bridget’s upraised knees!
Kat bounced up, up and away, the gasping, gutted Quake landing on one side several feet from her adversary. As for Stroud she wasn’t faring much better as she’d turned in the opposite and drew both knees to her chest in an effort to alleviate the worst of her accumulated Quake aches.
Sole survivor after this latest disaster, Al Carpenter allowed both competitors an internal five count to see if they’d stir, but when it passed with no obvious sign of recovery he started to count. “ONE… TWO… THREE… FOUR…” Braddock slopped to her back and sat up. Elsewhere, Bridget clambered to hands and knees. “FIVE… SIX… SEVEN…EI--”
Blonde and brunette made it up as one, though they moved in different directions and ultimately ended up leaning against the ropes for additional support. Nodding thanks as a good portion of the crowd began to chant her name, Sweet Disaster put her back to the strands and locked eyes with the Brat on the other side of the squared circle. “You still want to fight, Kitty?” Stroud challenged the furious blonde. “Looks like the climb’s got you out of bre--”
Kat charged across the ring so Bridget rushed out to meet her, both ladies showing Destroyer class Haymakers aimed at her rival’s chiNOOOO!
Bridget pulled her punch in order to dip around behind the surprised blonde! Catching a Waistlock she squeezed a little tighter than strictly necessary, Bridget got low and popped her hips to take Braddock up, over and DOWN onto the back of her head and shoulders with a German Suplex! Minnesota Wild held the Waistlock but not the bridge, Stroud somersaulting over the folded Brat to land on her feet with Kat seated before her.
Some of the FAWNatics were expecting another Suplex so they were audibly surprised when Bridget dropped to a seat, though the certainly didn’t complain when the brunette threaded her legs around the blonde’s waist and SQUEEZED!
“AAAAAAAAHHHHH!” Kat pounded punches into her opponent’s thighs, then cursed in disgust when Stroud bundled her arms overhead in a Full Nelson.
“You wanna feel the ground shake, do ya sweetie?” Bridget hissed in Kat’s ear. “Tell me how ya like this!”
Stroud stretched out on her back, drawing the fireplug into her lap. With no pins to worry about, she treated Kat to a few rough squeezes, then thrust her hips and rolled forward to THWHUMP Braddock’s buttocks into the canvas!
“Want some more?” Bridget asked. “Yeah, I think you do!”
KEESTER BOUNCE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=xqhVy0Hh77A
Bridget treated Braddock to a couple more ass-pounding, Keester Bounces, the padding not providing sufficient shock absorption for Kat’s tailbone. She winced in pain after each collision. The Peak Topper pushed her Nelson grip forward, forcing the blonde’s chin into her cleavage.
“Take a look,” Bridget grunted. “That’s all ya got. Just another ‘Fans Only’ wannabe who uses wrestling as a side hustle.”
Stroud released her grip, placing her palm behind Kat’s head and shoving The Brat’s face farther into her foe’s weaponry as she rose. Standing behind the seated blonde, Bridget slapped one palm atop Braddock’s noggin, the other under her chin and proceeded to try and twist Kat’s head free from her shoulders with a Neck Vise.
NECK VISE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=cJY9_ZSFvWs
The brunette had the Cali Quake grimacing in pain while gaining some recovery time. Halving her grip, Bridget lifted a pointed elbow and BANGED it into the crown of Kat’s skull, the look in The Brat’s eyes turning from discomfort to daze.
“Being a knock-off Imp can only get you so far, sponge cake,” Stroud growled, pulling the glassy-eyed blonde to her feet, but keeping her stooped as she moved to the Brat’s left side. Slipping her left leg in front of the blonde, the Sweet Disaster laid her torso perpendicular across Kat’s back then slipped her left arm under the right of Braddock, sweeping her head and shoulders under the wing, Bridget straightened. She locked her hands together to secure the Abdominal Stretch.
Working the tummy of her vertically-challenged foe, Bridget wrenched on the less than chiseled abs of The Brat, weakening the pressure point further, Kat mewling as the long seconds continued from a half-dozen to a full. Kat tried to power out, but Bridget’s base was set, and the blonde only succeeded in straining her midsection more. Braddock’s grunts and groans turned to more audible chirps when Bridget unlaced her fingers and sank a set of talons into the tanned tummy of The Brat. The Peak Topper dug in her ‘Death Grip’ Belly Claw to finish her signature mode of tummy torture, shredding and squeezing into the pliant flesh of the whimpering Quake.
“This is how a wrestler works,” Stroud informed, digging her digits in deeper, drawing a yelp from The Brat then a loud ‘FAHHHHK’ from the blonde when Stroud leaned back farther, trying to tear the blonde fireplug in two.
Apparently feeling she’s softened the quivering Quake the appropriate amount, Stroud unhooked both her claw and her Stretch, allowing Kat to stumble forward a few steps, The Brat’s arms reflexively surrounding her knotted belly.
Bridget moved beside the aching Kat, sweeping an arm across her chest while the opposite number settled near the waistband of her foe’s trunks. Bridget YANKED the spandex high, wedging the material deep into Kat’s crotch. With her makeshift handle firmly within a white-knuckle grip, the Sweet Disaster LAUNCHED her shorter foe HIGH into the Orlando air then dropped to the canvas, DRIVING Braddock’s backbone into the thinly-sheathed plywood with her Rocked Bottoms.
ROCKED BOTTOMS:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=CmboQR00mwM
Kat settled into a dilapidated starfish, limbs spread wide. The mindful Stroud hopped to her feet, allowing Al to get to his counting, Carpenter reaching ‘SIX’ before Braddock stirred. She’s seated at ‘EIGHT’ and up at ‘NINE and a half’, backpedaling to the ropes, using the cables to keep herself upright.
But the unsteady Braddock hit them with a bit more force than control. She bounced off the strands and Stroud’s ready and waiting with a Lariat that put Kat on her back once again, gazing blankly at the lights above. Bridget rose for another count, but Carpenter only made ‘TWO’ before Kat reached for the nearby bottom rope and yanked herself beneath, rolling out and dropping her boot soles to the floor.
Stroud instantly took off for the opposite cables, throwing her athletic frame into the rubber-coated steel and zooming back at her wobbling target. But as Stroud Baseball Slid toward a Dropkick, Kat backed away a step, pulling the skirt of the apron with her. The Peak Topper skidded out and was immediately stuck in a stance behind the skirt. Movement restricted, Bridget came under fire as Braddock mounted a comeback with the direct approach, flying fists and forearms toward chest and chin.
With the Disaster pacified after the volley of chin-checkers, Braddock pulled Bridget free of her confinement, snatched a wrist and shoulder and HEAVED the brunette into a headlong dive into the steel ring steps, Stroud able to replace a headfirst collision with a dipped shoulder that’s plenty painful if not concussion-inducing.
A wincing Kat rubbed at her mottled tummy then ground her perfect pearlies, ignoring her distress and striding down the length of the ring to collect the puddled Stroud. She stuffed Bridget back in under the bottom cable and crawled in after her. With Kat pushing wearily to her feet, the battle shows its wear and tear on the two women whom those in the know considered stalwarts of FAWN’s future.
Stroud made it to hands and knees before the blonde could corral her. Braddock tugged Bridget to her feet then dipped an arm through the legs of Minnesota Wild, lifting her foe onto a shoulder, into Body Slammin’ position. The short, stocky blonde showed the power packed into her fireplug frame, carrying a squirming Bridget to the nearest corner and dropping her legs over the top rope at the knees, one on either side of the buckles.
Showing a practiced technique, The Brat quickly secured Stroud in a Tree of Woe. She pushed Al out of her way as she jogged to the opposite corner, tapped the top buckle, turned and sprinted toward her objective.
Taking a page out of Chrissy’s book, Braddock leapt from several feet out and THWUMPED a Dropkick below, or in this case, above the waistline, her boot soles CRASHING into Bridget’s crotch, the Sweet Disaster a victim of Daniel’s now Braddock’s Sand Blaster.
The force of the impact freed Bridget from her Tree and she tumbled to the canvas, curling into a fetal ball as she moaned insistently, hands buried between her thighs.
A huffing Kat, on her feet next to Carpenter, pushed him forward, demanding he stop trying to score brownie points with the crowd and count to ‘TEN’ at the proper speed.
The man began throwing digits in the air post-haste over a groaning, wriggling Disaster, Carpenter reaching ‘EIGHT’ with little sign of verticality in the cards. But like Kat before her, Bridget rolled under the ropes, using the rules in her favor to flop to the thinly-padded cement to break the count and keep herself in the match.
Furious at the denial, Braddock slugged Al on the arm, then stalked over to the ropes and slipped out onto the apron. “What, you think you’re going to hide out there, putz?” the Brat called down to Bridget, who was stretched out parallel to the ring with both hands wedged between her thighs. Kat had hoped for some pleading from the outmatched loser, but Stroud offered her nothing more than a defiant grimace, so Braddock backed up half a dozen steps and rushed down that narrow ledge to leap out and THAWHUMP every bit of her weight ass-first atop Sweet Disaster’s chest!
Kat popped to her feet with Stroud writhing in her shadow and took a moment to fluff her hair before flipping off the crowd. Once that was done she kicked both feet forward and dropped back down, the blonde fireplug detonating another megaton Butt Bomb on her rival’s chest!
Stroud’s legs kicked up so Braddock swatted them aside and bounced in place half a dozen times, the Cali Quake just putting more and more glute to the groaning Disaster. Returning to verticality after another stretch of preening, Kat plunged a hand into Bridget’s hair and peeled her off the floor only to scoop her up over one shoulder.
“Where should I put this piece of trash?” Braddock taunted the FAWNatics after she pivoted toward the front row. Those assembled suggested Kat put Bridget down with no additional hostility, which earned a derisive sneer from the blonde. “Yeah, f*ckin’ right. Just for that…” The Brat went up on tiptoe and slung Stroud to the floor as hard as she could, the sweaty THA-WHUMP of brunette bod against the barely-padded concrete earning a sympathetic groan from everyone within earshot.
Everyone except Kat, who strutted back to the apron and hopped on with a saucy little slap of her backside. Turning to face the flattened fighter, Braddock grabbed the top rope in both hands and gave it a violent shake to make sure that each and every one of these dopey putzes understood that this Quake was about to rattle the walls. They booed accordingly, their noise reaching a crescendo when Braddock took another flying leap from the apron, only now she stretched out full length and THWHAPPED her one hundred and twenty-three pounds across Bridget’s fluttering tummy with a rib-cracking Splash!
APRON SPLASH:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=0m8RAezLC_k
Stroud’s stems jolted as they had prior, but this time Braddock hooked both legs in a snug bundle and reached out with her free hand to slap out a, “ONE! TWO! THREE! YOU’RE OUT!”
She tossed the squirming limbs aside, got to her feet and planted a foot atop the brunette’s breasts to add even more emphasis to the brawny double bicep flex. Punctuating the pose with a single hard stomp to opposing tits, Kat bent down, collected Stroud at trunks and tresses and pulled her up just enough to bundle her under the bottom rope.
“Don’t even think about starting that count!” Braddock ordered Carpenter even as she rolled under the bottom rope. “This putz doesn’t get to go out that easy!”
Al stepped back with both hands raised, allowing the Brat free reign to haul the taller wrestler off the canvas in stages. A few brisk slaps to Stroud’s cheek meant she was coming around right about the time Braddock bulled her backward into the turnbuckles. Slaps gave way to Shoulderblocks, Kat treating Bridget to some vindictive tummy torture to ensure Minnesota Wild was gaping for breath when the blonde muscled her into a seat on the top turnbuckle.
With her trap set Braddock mounted the second rope and collected the brunette’s noggin in a Front Facelock. From there she slung Bridget’s near (left) arm across her shoulders and reached down to collect her left leg in a tight Cradle. “Gonna put you to sleep for a long, long time!” Braddock promised as she carefully climbed to the top rope and forced Stroud to do the same. “Maybe if you’re lucky you’ll wake up in time for next year’s ManiURGH! UGH! UGH! UGH!”
Bridget kept her free hand wrapped around the top rope for as long as she could, then she balled it into a fist and began to pound away at the blonde’s midsection! “Eeerrrrrrhhhhh, stop punching me, putz!” Braddock growled. “Don’t make me OOOOFFFHHH WHOOAAAANNNNGGGHHH!”
Stroud slammed a final fist home below the Brat’s navel and wrested free of the Facelock. Just like that she put both hands against Kat’s chest and sent her careening to the deck with massive shove! Nodding thanks to the crowd as they roared their delight, Bridget rose to her full height and leapt from the summit to come THA-WHAMMING down on Kat’s tummy with a ring-shaking Frog Splash!
FROG SPLASH:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=CIWlmko_jd0
Sweet Disaster bounced to one knee with an arm pressed to her midsection. She looked weary, albeit infinitely better than Kat, who rolled onto one side and curled into a tight ball around her roiling midsection! “Can’t take any more punches, Brat?” Stroud huffed as she dragged the blonde to a seat. “How about I stretch you instead?”
“Guuuuhhhh… get the hell offa EEERRRGGGHHH AAAAHHH!”
Bridget hooked her left leg over the Quake’s left arm to keep it out of the way while she stretched out across Kat’s back and dipped under her right arm to trap it under her left armpit.
“NO!” Kat shook her head wildly as her torso was bent against the brunette’s knee. “BYTCH, LET GO OF MEEEERRRRRRGGGHHH STAAAAAAAHP!”
Bridget raised her right hand high and SLAPPED it down onto Kat’s tummy to apply another white-knuckled claw grip! “AAAAAHHHHH GAAAAWD!” the Brat kicked her feet and squirmed from side to side in a desperate effort to escape Sweet Disaster’s Death Grip.
(ALMOST) DEATH GRIP:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=mDJ19qykhcU
“LUH-LEGGO PUTZ!” Kat sobbed, her tone growing higher and breathier as the claw took it’s toll. “YOU’RE NOT GONNA MAKE ME OOOOOHHHHHHH SHYT!”
Bridget stuffed her index finger into the Quake’s navel and squeezed all the harder. “Gave me two Kat Naps, remember, Brat?” Bridget said through gritted teeth. “Only fair I give you two Death Grips!”
Kat shook her head ‘no!’ and struggled harder than ever before she finally bleated out, “GIVE! I GIVE, BYTCH! JUST LEMME GOOOOOO!”
Bridget wrenched backward and continued to claw, Minnesota Wild piled on for almost twenty more seconds before she abruptly shoved the Brat away from the nauseating hold. Kat rolled to her stomach with both arms strapped tight across her belly while Bridget got to her feet and nudged Al’s shoulder. “Count her, Al.”
“ONE… TWO… THREE… FOUR… FIVE… SIX… SEVEN…” Braddock braced her hands and forehead against the mat and pushed to all fours… before collapsing in a facedown sprawl! Above her, Carpenter continued to count. “EIGHT… NINE…TEN!”
The bell sounded over a roar from the crowd, their noise growing all the louder when the Announcer confirmed, “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner and the Last Woman Standing… BRIDGET STROUD!”
Sweet Disaster allowed Al to raise her hand for the crowd, but she didn’t truly pose until she’d slipped a boot under Kat’s torso and rolled her onto her back. Then she raised a foot and carefully placed it on the Brat’s gulping tummy, Bridget slooooowly pressing down until Kat squirmed into pained, breathless life. Resisting the urge to stamp down, Stroud raised both arms and offered the ‘Mania throng a double bicep flex.
“The tremors have subsided for now!” she called over the din. “And I’m still climbing! If the Quakes want to keep trying, they know where to find me!” Bridget looked into the rafters and pointed an index finger in that direction. “Top of the mountain, baby!”
The brunette thanked the crowd with a final flex, then made a point to step on Kat’s tummy as she set off on her first FAWNamania victory stroll.
“This is Mania, Kat,” Chrissy Daniel informed. And though the information is obvious, the meaning sank in as Braddock nodded knowingly. “Attack her. Every moment. Like she took something from you. And she wants to take more. Because I guarantee it. She does.”
Chrissy NAILED Kat with an open hand to the chest.
“TAKE…IT…BACK!”
The rattling sound of an earthquake rumbled through the arena’s speakers after the impact and Braddock turned to the entry, pushing through on her own, the transition to Van Halen's ‘Beautiful Girls’ accompanying her, the unmistakable vibration of Eddie's signature riff tearing through the air.
BEAUTIFUL GIRLS:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=bJ9h2m06sFQ
No longer just the song for one of the GOATs of the organization, three-time World Champion Chrissy Daniel, the musical baton is passed to her curvy, Gen Z Quake counterpart, the ill-mannered, ass-kicking blonde brat moving to center stage. Kat Braddock settled and let the hate wash over her, hazel eyes shut, grin blossoming.
KAT BRADDOCK:
The blonde fireplug offered the crowd a shake of her head, giving her long flaxen locks a flip over a shoulder, before heading to tonight’s fight. The relationship between the well-named Brat and the crowd continued to speed downhill as Kat flipped the sellout assemblage the bird.
With a unique combination of a young Kylie’s features and a young Chrissy’s body and mean streak to match, it’s clear why so many think she had a chance to be a leader in a new generation of wrestling. And tonight’s battle provided the perfect chance to fight out of a career cul-de-sac and get back in that stream’s flow. The Quake strode down the ramp and aisle, casting an occasional glance from side to side, sneering at the mob.
The busty blonde youngster reached the ring in her remarkably well-knit, green crocheted bikini. She sported green pads and black ankle boots to complete the wardrobe.
Dawdling at the bottom of the ring steps, Kat collected a microphone and only then ascended and entered, the co-rookie of the year in 2019 claiming the ring as The Brat’s playground. She took a slow look around the confines before her gaze settled on the front-facing lens.
As Van Halen faded, the Announcer broke in with his introduction.
“Tonight’s next match will be won by the LAST WOMAN STANDING and has a thirty minute time limit. First. From Newport Beach, California. Standing five feet two inches tall and weighing in at one hundred and twenty-four pounds. The Brat. KAT BRADDOCK!”
The arena echoed with enmity, the vocal and virulent distaste quite impressive for someone so early in her career.
Properly introduced, the Cali Quake drew the amplifier to parted lips.
“Shut your mouths and let the future speak.”
The fans did anything but.
“I beat down Bridget’s little lacky. It was fun. But it’s nothing like the satisfaction I’ll receive by showing all of you Bridget’s the flash in the pan you wish I was. And what better way to prove it than show she can’t get up when I shove her off the mountain.”
Braddock literally dropped the mic and backpedaled to her corner, her eyes trailing to the upper stage, waiting for her foe’s arrival.
“And introducing her opponent, hailing from Stillwater Minnesota, she stands at five feet five inches tall and weighs in tonight at one hundred and thirty-five pounds. They call her the Sweet Disaster, this is BRIDGET STROUD!”
BE LEGENDARY:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kmidz2s4scM
The ’Mania crowd sprang to their feet when the lights went purple and a dozen spotlights played over that mass of humanity. Then the speakers offered up Pop Evil’s ‘Be Legendary’ and the ‘tron showed selections from Stroud’s ever lengthening highlight reel interspersed with footage from her rock climbing career. The chaotic sweep of lights continued through most of the first verse, though their pace seemed to increase as the sound system roared:
Our name in stone, forever more.
We want more!
We want more!
We want more!
BRIDGET STROUD:
The spots honed in on the entryway with the third recitation and Bridget exploded through the curtain, the former rock-climber turned indy wrestling darling turned meteoric FAWN star star skidding to a stop at the top of the stage just to throw her arms up for a brawny double bicep flex. Chants of ‘SWEET DIS-AS-TER!’ rang out at once, a building roar crafted by fans of her indy stint as well as the new fans she’d made since hitting Orlando the year prior.
Looking remarkably calm for someone making her very first appearance on the biggest show on FAWN’s calendar, Minnesota Wild pumped a fist for the fans before she pivoted ‘round on one heel and swung her hips in time to their chant while pointing to the ‘Sweet Disaster’ stretched across her purple briefs.
Another about-face followed shortly thereafter and the copper-skinned brunette hardbody took off down the ramp, Bridget going with arms outstretched to return the favor to everyone who greeted her so warmly. For tonight’s trip up Mt. Bratty, Stroud wore her usual purple trunks, a halter-style bikini top with one cup done in matching purple and the other in a gleaming white, purple and white armbands that crisscrossed at bicep and forearm to meet at wrist and shoulder, white pads with a purple splatter pattern and purple wrestling boots that ended a few inches shy of her knees. A study in frenetic energy the entire way to ringside, Bridget made a high-speed circuit of the front row, then leapt to the apron to the top rope and stayed there for a several seconds to bask in the roar of the crowd. Once she hopped down Stroud jogged over to referee Al Carpenter.
“You ever called a Last Woman Standing match, Al?” she asked.
“A few, admittedly.” the official confirmed.
“So you’ve got a good counting pace worked out?”
“Oh yeah. The usual standing ten, maybe a little slower to make the brass happy. They love those dramatic last second returns. Why?”
“No reason. But do me a favor and slow it down a little more when Bratty’s trying to pick herself up off the mat. I’m not gonna let her leave this ring with any excuses.”
“Probably shouldn’t do that, don’t wanna invite calls of bias. You’re more than welcome to hit her harder, that’s well within the confines of the rules.”
“Well then I’ll just have to do that. See ya at the top, Al.” Bridget tipped him a jaunty salute as she headed to her corner.
The absence of the other Quakes didn’t seem to hamper Kat’s confidence in the slightest. If anything the blonde Brat was out of her corner a little quicker than normal because there was no one in her ear when the bell sounded. Bridget moved just as fast, her usually bright features drawn into a determined scowl no doubt caused by unpleasant Slaybor Day memories.
Pace quickening as the distance shrank, Braddock and Stroud reared back on their heels to lunge at one another only for Bridget to almost lose her balance when Kat stuffed both hands against her chest for a rough shove! “Who do you think you are, huh?” Braddock sneered at the brunette as she regained her footing. “Just trying to walk up on me like I didn’t obliterate your putz ass back at Slaybor Day? Hey, how’d your head feel when you woke up from those Kat NaNGH!”
Stroud was still a little outside of punchin’ range so she popped off a gorgeous vertical leap and THWHAPPED the heels of both boots into Kat’s dangerous curves! The Standing Dropkick put Braddock flat on the deck but she scrambled upright in the span between heartbeats and threw herself into Sweet Disaster for a rough Collar & Elbow. Bridget cried out when the Quake snatched at her hair, then returned the favor with interest to earn a pained hiss from Braddock.
Patently uninterested in the more technical aspects of their clinch, Bridget and Kat used their free hands to deliver quick, sharp slaps to her opponent’s face before crushing opposing cheeks between thumb and forefinger. This simultaneous fish-facing meant neither wrestler could do more than snarl in unintelligible rage as they stamped around in an awkward little circle fighting for position.
Bridget had the height advantage but Kat had leverage on her side, as evidenced by the brusque way she took control of the lock-up and marched the former rock climber into the nearest corner. Pressing in far harder than was necessary after she’d smudged Stroud’s back and buttocks against the buckles, Braddock ‘SMECKED’ the sinewy brunette with a trio of truncated Avalanche Splashes, then mounted the bottom rope and abandoned the grapple to snake her arms around Bridget’s head!
“Yeah, hide your face in there, putz!” the Brat demanded as she forced Stroud’s startled features into the furious furnace of her décolletage. “Hide all you want, it’s not gonna stop this Quake from swallowing you wholHUUURRRGGGHH!”
Bridget began her time in the Front Sleeper swatting and pushing at the blonde’s biceps. Finding no escape route there, she looped her arms around the Beach Kat’s midsection and answered with a gut-churning counter squeeze! The unexpected pressure caused Kat to involuntarily loosen her grip, which in turn allowed Bridget to twist her head to the side.
“Gonna squeeze you nice and tight, Brat.” Stroud’s breath was hot and angry against her opponent’s curves. “Gonna squeeze the quit right out of youMMMRRRHHH!”
Bridget’s face disappeared for a second time once Kat snatched a whole lotta hair and stuffed the brunette’s protesting mug back into her cleavage. “C’MON!” Braddock slammed her tummy against Bridget’s to better reinforce the full body domination. “C’mon, you think you can ride this out, putz? Show me what you UUURRRGGGGHH!”
Bridget yoked up on the Bear Hug and powered out of the corner, only by a few steps, but still enough to rob the Quake of her perch. Of course oxygen was still at a premium so rather than match Braddock pulse for pulse, she whipped ‘round in a half circle and lunged into the corner, BWUNGING Kat’s back against the middle buckle! Drawing in a loud breath when her chin popped clear of the blonde’s breasts, Bridget backpedaled out of the corner and dipped her knees in a deep crouch only to toss the fireplug blonde halfway across the squared circle with an Overhead Belly to Belly Suplex!
OVERHEAD BELLY TO BELLY SUPLEX:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=YUCyo7aktck
Kat THWHAMMED spine-first against the thinly-sheathed plywood, bounced to a seat and spun to one knee, her face twisted with rage. “Get out here, putz.” Braddock barked as she returned to verticality. “These tremors are just getting startOOFFFFHHH!”
Bridget came out of the corner low and fast, Minnesota Wild lowering a shoulder and launching off her back foot to THWHUMP a heavy Spear into the bit of Kat’s belly! The Brat landed hard on her shoulders and might’ve tumbled over onto her stomach if Stroud hadn’t kept an arm cinched around her waist. Holding Braddock close as she clambered to one knee, Bridget tugged Kat to a seat, then settled down on her knees and snuggled in against the blonde’s right flank. Knees splayed wide, Stroud got as low as she could before strapping her second Bear Hug around the Quake’s sturdy waist.
“Nnnnnngggghhhhh!” Kat crooked her right arm into a ‘V’ and drove the point of her elbow between Bridget’s shoulders in an effort to break the hold. “Eeeerrrrggghhh leggo bytch!” Braddock hit another elbow or two, then went to work trying to get that arm around her opponent’s noggin.
“Nuh uh, baby.” Stroud emphasized the negation with another strong squeeze. “You’re not going anywherNGH! NGH! NGH!”
Kat couldn’t quite wriggle into the proper position to complete the Front Facelock, however she could at least keep Sweet Disaster’s head under control. That was better than nothing, so she balled her left hand into a fist and began to pwak-pwak-pwak-pwak half a dozen mad little punches in above her foe’s right hip. Angered by her inability to pop the lock on her rival’s grip, Kat crooked that hand into a talon and draaaaaaaaaaaagged it up the brunette’s flank!
Teeth bared as she endured the Quake’s savage scraping, Stroud fought to one knee and squeezed that much harder, her knotted fists gouging in above the seated wrestler’s hip. “Better knock off that mean girl shyt right now, Kitty.” Bridget huffed between each painful pass. “Test me and you’re not gonna like what AAAAAWWWWWW BYTCH!”
Not about to acquiesce to any demand from the scrawny putz, Braddock traded in her claw for a huge handful of waistband that she promptly transformed into a ‘Mania worthy wedgie! “Order me around again, putz!” Kat yanked the distended material from side to side, baring a couple more inches of Bridget’s backside in the process. “I’ll split you up the middle just before I crush you through the matAAAARRRRGGGHHH!”
Stroud answered tog tugging with teeth, Sweet Disaster helping herself to a mouthful of Bratty-back ribs! Powerless to bring an end to either of these infractions, Al Carpenter continued to circle at a safe distance while blonde and brunette slowly but surely fought their way upright.
Using the wedgie as a tether, Braddock twisted / squirmed her way through the Hug until she was looking directly down the other wrestler’s back. “Gotcha!” Kat cinched her right arm around Stroud’s neck and yoked up on a proper Front Facelock! The gurgle of breath against her side confirmed Braddock finally had her hooks set deep so she abandoned the wedgie to clasp her hands and thum-thum-thum-THUMP several quick Kneelifts into Bridget’s chest!
Stroud ‘ooofffhed’ and crumpled to one knee but still wouldn’t give up her grip around the blonde’s ribs, much to Kat’s disgust. Shifting back to the one-armed Front Facelock so she could THWHAP a heavy Overhand Forearm Smash across the taller woman’s shoulders, Braddock glared out at the crowd and shouted, “You think this piece of trash is the future? You’re looking at the future, dweebs! The California Quakes are here to shake the foundations of HEYWHOANGH!”
Bridget powered back to her feet, then popped her hips and slung Kat up, over and down, the startled blonde landing hard on her hip and shoulder courtesy of the Release Northern Lights Suplex!
RELEASE NORTHERN LIGHTS SUPLEX:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=sesd3ml6Wk0
The sturdy Braddock rolled to her feet from the spine-jarring impact, a hand glued to her lower vertebrae. Face etched in pain, the blonde turned toward a risen Bridget and was immediately gutted with a kneecap to her flat if un-chiseled tummy. Kat’s eyes went wide as she doubled, a burst of an exhale escaping her lips.
Stroud wrapped both arms around the belly of the blonde from overhead, then showed off the strength in her climber’s arms, vaulting the beach fighter into the air and flipping her to a place across her right shoulder, Kat pointed to the rafters. The Sweet Disaster brought her foe down in emphatic fashion, Braddock tumbling from the heights, landing across the posted knee of the dark-haired warrior. Ending atop the plank of the genuflecting Bridget’s left leg, Braddock sounded like she’s about to vomit, her midriff ravaged by the landing from Stroud’s Gutwrench Gutbuster.
GUTWRENCH GUTBUSTER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=4YMB0w96BBU
Kat rolled off the leg, landing on her back. She fidgeted from side to side, hugging her abdomen, fighting for breath. Stroud rose to her feet and hovered, taking the liberty to raise a hand toward the crowd, generating an extremely favorable response.
Quickly turning her attention back to the quaking Quake, she motioned to Carpenter, silently asking whether this was good to start a count. It’s early enough Al hadn’t thought to apply the rule, but he did on Bridget’s urging, reaching ‘THREE’ as Braddock painfully rolled up to all fours. At ‘FIVE’ the blonde’s up, if stooped and retreating, begging off with a plaintive palm as she edged toward the corner behind her.
But a sudden burst of adrenaline seemed to recharge The Brat and she raced out from the buckles, charging the approaching Stroud. Kat leapt at Bridget with a Crossbody Splash, hoping to use her fireplug frame to PLANT her rival.
Too late to avoid the impact, the athletic Bridget added some back-flipping energy to the collision and managed to turn it into a crazy Moonsault Fallaway Slam that brought the crowd to its feet, the counter allowing the Disaster to wreak the same on the startled then flatted blonde.
MOONSAULT FALL AWAY SLAM:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=pfnAlAOxjP0
Instantly aware there’s no pin worthy of an attempt under the Last Woman Standing rules, Stroud pushed to her haunches next to the splayed and gurgling Braddock, Kat’s arms now reflexively ending around her churning gut as she rotated to a shoulder and hip.
“You have to reach your feet before I can start counting,” Castle reminded the ‘It Girl’ and Stroud softly nodded her head.
“I know,” came the reply. “She’s earned more.” Bridget huffed patiently as Kat rolled to her chest and pushed to hands and knees. She collected the catty Kat with a handful of hair and rips The Brat to her feet as she rose, bullying the shorter woman to the ropes and flinging her out with an Irish Whip.
Braddock hit the cables and rebounded, still grimacing from the abuse she’s endured as she raced toward a stationed Stroud. Bridget perfectly times an upward thrust of her hands to Braddock’s chest, shoving her foe several feet in the air, then LAID KAT OUT with a Pop-Up Forearm Smash. Braddock ended in a wide spreadeagle, staring blankly at the rafters above.
POP-UP FOREARM SMASH:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=1YleegSvlGI
“THAT you can count on,” Bridget informed the official.
Al did as he’s told, reaching ‘FIVE’ before The Brat stirred. Bell fully rung, Kat finally shook out the cobwebs with a rattle of her noggin, allowing her to comprehend the rising count. Forced to hurry to a knee at ‘SEVEN’ she pushed up at ‘NINE’, immediately staggering before being THUMPED by a stiff forearm of the regular variety from Minnesota Wild that put The Brat on her ass again.
Carpenter waved to the Timekeeper to make sure he understood this trip to the mat required a new count, Kat having legally broken the initial one. Upon the blonde landing, she turned and rolled out under the bottom rope. Landing on the floor, still off-balance, Braddock backpedaled to the barrier, crashing hard enough to draw a pained look, but maintaining verticality.
Kat stared into the ring hatefully, Bridget beaming and bidding her back in as Castle started yet another count, this one toward The Brat’s disqualification.
One arm wrapped around her midriff, Braddock pushed away from the steel divider and moved to the apron’s edge.
“Get her back!” she demanded. Carpenter did the best he could with the energetic Peak Topper. But as Kat’s halfway through, Stroud barreled by the zebra, only to have Braddock thrust a dipped shoulder into Bridget’s breadbasket! Stroud was sent stumbling back a few steps, gasping for air. It gives the Cali Quake enough time to fully enter and stride to the brunette.
But Bridget’s prepared, shooting a Toe Kick at her favorite sweet spot, Braddock’s flat if soft belly. The Brat’s ready at the well this time, catching Stroud’s foot at the ankle before it could gouge into her tummy. Kat threw the raised stem away from her with as much force as she could muster and the pendulum-like heave of her foe’s right stem sent Stroud’s body swinging forward in response, the Sweet Disaster face-planting into the deck.
Kat shoveled Bridget to her back with a shove of a boot under the Disaster’s side, the dazed Stroud flopping into a single file. At her foe’s feet, Chrissy’s protégé kicked Bridget’s legs wide, took a step back and dropped to the canvas, noggin leading the way as The Brat butted into Bridget’s crotch!
Stroud shot to a seated position, hands buried between her thighs, dark eyes bulging. Kat rose to her haunches between the stems, reveling in the anguish in the ‘It Girl’s peepers. She leaned forward, wrapping her arms behind the head of her foe, easing Bridget’s features forward and into The Brat’s cavernous cleavage.
Resuscitating wildly, flailing from side to side within the mammary mask, the writhing Stroud broke free from Kat’s Front Sleeper before the Quake could lock it in. The taste of Kat’s bosom still on her lips, Bridget butt-scooted away from The Brat before cornering herself against a bottom buckle.
Center stage, Kat sprinted forward, leaping from a few feet out with her abbreviated legs extended. Her junk THUMPED into Bridget’s chin as her ample backside CRASHED into the climber’s chest. And the ride was on. Kat broke the Peak Topper with pelvic thrust after thrust, the demoralized crowd reflexively counting to the full ‘TEN’ despite their distaste for Chrissy’s protégé.
Having cratered the brunette with her Bronco Busting, Braddock dismounted and Bridget crumpled to the canvas, the blonde pulling Bridget out by her heels a few feet and dropped the leaden legs, taking the ropes out of play for any assist back to vertical.
“Finish the ‘Shyt Girl’ off, Carpenter.” Kat demanded.
And when he wasn’t instant in his count, she added an insistent “NOW!”
The lanky official got to it once he was satisfied Stroud wasn’t stirring. “ONE… TWO… THREE… FOUR… FIVE…”
Stroud rolled to all fours en route to reaching one knee. It wasn’t actually enough to break Carpenter’s count, yet it was enough to convince Kat that the brunette poseur hadn’t learned her lesson quite yet. Stomping over to the penitent battler, Braddock lashed out with a short, snide kick that knocked Bridget from her knees to her backside. “Nuuuhhh… nasty bytch.” Stroud groaned. “Of course you couldn’t do a damned thing until you went loEEERRRGGGHH!”
The Brat snatched a handful of hair, turned her back on the seated brunette and promptly thrust her medicine ball backside into her opponent’s forehead! “I’m sorry, no one’s here to listen to your loser whining, putz!” Kat teased. “But please whimper your complaint directly into my ass,” the blonde rammed her glutes against Bridget’s head a second time, “and I’ll address it just as soon as I’m done kicking the shyt out of you!”
Stroud raised her hands in an effort to ward off Braddock’s buns but all she really did was goad Kat into a tawdry hip waggle that raised a prolonged ‘whoooooooooaaah!’ from those assembled before she THWHUMPED her churlish cheeks into Bridget’s face with enough force to knock the brunette flat!
BRATTY HIP SMASHES:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZMaqsJS_9eg
Al stepped up to start another count, only to clear off when Kat threatened to Chop the stripes off his shirt. “Really should have stayed out of our way, beeyotch.” Braddock told Stroud as she peeled her off the deck with a double handful of hair. “Crofton’s got stepping stone written all over her face and if you’d let Ave and I have our way, we’d have no beef, but you had to step up and defy us Quakes, didn’t you?”
Too woozy from those Bratty Butt Blasts to provide a proper answer, Bridget settled for an angry groan when Braddock traded in the hair-hold for a grinding Bear Hug.
“Thought you were gonna crush me out, huh?” Kat squeezed harder, jerked Stroud up on tiptoe and shook her from side to side, the smaller wrestler clearly relishing her control. “It’s high time you learned why I’m the Brat and you’re just a BYTCH!”
Beach Kat 2020 loosened the Hug for the sole purpose and sliding her cinched arms south to the former rock climber’s upper thighs. Her fists knotted just beneath the swell of Bridget’s tush, Kat went up on tiptoe then sank to one knee, all the better to THWHUNK Stroud crotch-first atop the plank of her posted thigh!
The Inverted Atomic Drop made Bridget knock-kneed without actually taking her off her feet so Braddock took hold of one wrist and sent her racing / waddling into the ropes on the far side of the squared circle. Bridget’s pace looked or less normal during her return trip but the lingering ache of the Atomic Drop made her defenses sluggish meaning she couldn’t stop Kat from bracing both hands against her torso and shooting her skyward. Arms windmilling in an effort to ensure a safe landing, Stroud left herself exposed for the Brat’s most explosive Hip Attack yet, Braddock DRIVING her derriere into Bridget’s chest the instant she touched down!
POP-UP HIP ATTACK:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=1ZYVCjpkUak
Stroud hit the deck and flopped onto her stomach, the brunette possibly trying to defend against a non-existent pin in the depths of her Butt Shock. As for Kat she didn’t go for a pin or call Carpenter over for a count, rather she planted her left foot between Bridget’s splayed stems and took command of Sweet Distaster’s left foot. She quickly trapped the brunette’s ankle in the pit of her right knee, then grabbed her right ankle and angled her opponent’s lower leg so it was wedged against her own encroaching leg shin-on-shin.
“Everything you felt before? Those were just tremors, putz!” Kat leaned over, caught hold of Bridget’s wrists and craaaaaaaaaaanked her arms up and back in a spine-wrenching Surfboard.
“RRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHHH!” Stroud shook her head ‘no, no, no!’ to deny the submission Braddock hadn’t demanded.
The Brat jounced her prey’s wrists for a few more seconds before she raised her right foot and let it hang between the other wrestler’s shoulders. “What you’re feeling now? That’s the BIG ONE!” Kat stamped down and released Stroud’s wrists to THA-WHAM her down flat on her face with a vicious Curb Stomp!
THE BIG ONE!
www.youtube.com/watch?v=DSMDrHWLeDU
Bridget settled out in a facedown sprawl that finally convinced the Quake to bring Carpenter over. “Putz is DONE!” Kat sneered. “Count to a hundred if you want, it won’t matter!”
Al made no reply save for the start of his count. “ONE… TWO… THREE… FOUR… FIVE… SIX… SEVEN…” Bridget planted her palms on the mat and powered to one knee with a weary groan. “EIGHT… NI--”
Al called off the count when Kat buried her hands in Stroud’s dark locks and bullied her to verticality. “Being a putz isn’t humiliating enough, is that it?” Braddock slapped Bridget in the mouth once, twice, three times! “You wanna be paste instead? I got you, baby.”
Chrissy’s cruel protégé slipped an arm between the brunette’s thighs, hooked the other over her shoulders and scooped her into the air just to THUMP her down in the middle of the ring. With Stroud stretched out atop that canvas fault line, Kat made her way to the nearest corner, slipped out onto the apron and made her way to the top floor. High risk offense wasn’t exactly a Quake specialty, yet the Brat looked quite a home as she straightened up and treated the FAWNatics to a pair of middle fingers. Snorting as their disdain shook the rafters, Bridget leapt out into the void and executed a perfect mid-air toe touch just to stretch out full length and TWAWHAM down onto Bridget’s upraised knees!
Kat bounced up, up and away, the gasping, gutted Quake landing on one side several feet from her adversary. As for Stroud she wasn’t faring much better as she’d turned in the opposite and drew both knees to her chest in an effort to alleviate the worst of her accumulated Quake aches.
Sole survivor after this latest disaster, Al Carpenter allowed both competitors an internal five count to see if they’d stir, but when it passed with no obvious sign of recovery he started to count. “ONE… TWO… THREE… FOUR…” Braddock slopped to her back and sat up. Elsewhere, Bridget clambered to hands and knees. “FIVE… SIX… SEVEN…EI--”
Blonde and brunette made it up as one, though they moved in different directions and ultimately ended up leaning against the ropes for additional support. Nodding thanks as a good portion of the crowd began to chant her name, Sweet Disaster put her back to the strands and locked eyes with the Brat on the other side of the squared circle. “You still want to fight, Kitty?” Stroud challenged the furious blonde. “Looks like the climb’s got you out of bre--”
Kat charged across the ring so Bridget rushed out to meet her, both ladies showing Destroyer class Haymakers aimed at her rival’s chiNOOOO!
Bridget pulled her punch in order to dip around behind the surprised blonde! Catching a Waistlock she squeezed a little tighter than strictly necessary, Bridget got low and popped her hips to take Braddock up, over and DOWN onto the back of her head and shoulders with a German Suplex! Minnesota Wild held the Waistlock but not the bridge, Stroud somersaulting over the folded Brat to land on her feet with Kat seated before her.
Some of the FAWNatics were expecting another Suplex so they were audibly surprised when Bridget dropped to a seat, though the certainly didn’t complain when the brunette threaded her legs around the blonde’s waist and SQUEEZED!
“AAAAAAAAHHHHH!” Kat pounded punches into her opponent’s thighs, then cursed in disgust when Stroud bundled her arms overhead in a Full Nelson.
“You wanna feel the ground shake, do ya sweetie?” Bridget hissed in Kat’s ear. “Tell me how ya like this!”
Stroud stretched out on her back, drawing the fireplug into her lap. With no pins to worry about, she treated Kat to a few rough squeezes, then thrust her hips and rolled forward to THWHUMP Braddock’s buttocks into the canvas!
“Want some more?” Bridget asked. “Yeah, I think you do!”
KEESTER BOUNCE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=xqhVy0Hh77A
Bridget treated Braddock to a couple more ass-pounding, Keester Bounces, the padding not providing sufficient shock absorption for Kat’s tailbone. She winced in pain after each collision. The Peak Topper pushed her Nelson grip forward, forcing the blonde’s chin into her cleavage.
“Take a look,” Bridget grunted. “That’s all ya got. Just another ‘Fans Only’ wannabe who uses wrestling as a side hustle.”
Stroud released her grip, placing her palm behind Kat’s head and shoving The Brat’s face farther into her foe’s weaponry as she rose. Standing behind the seated blonde, Bridget slapped one palm atop Braddock’s noggin, the other under her chin and proceeded to try and twist Kat’s head free from her shoulders with a Neck Vise.
NECK VISE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=cJY9_ZSFvWs
The brunette had the Cali Quake grimacing in pain while gaining some recovery time. Halving her grip, Bridget lifted a pointed elbow and BANGED it into the crown of Kat’s skull, the look in The Brat’s eyes turning from discomfort to daze.
“Being a knock-off Imp can only get you so far, sponge cake,” Stroud growled, pulling the glassy-eyed blonde to her feet, but keeping her stooped as she moved to the Brat’s left side. Slipping her left leg in front of the blonde, the Sweet Disaster laid her torso perpendicular across Kat’s back then slipped her left arm under the right of Braddock, sweeping her head and shoulders under the wing, Bridget straightened. She locked her hands together to secure the Abdominal Stretch.
Working the tummy of her vertically-challenged foe, Bridget wrenched on the less than chiseled abs of The Brat, weakening the pressure point further, Kat mewling as the long seconds continued from a half-dozen to a full. Kat tried to power out, but Bridget’s base was set, and the blonde only succeeded in straining her midsection more. Braddock’s grunts and groans turned to more audible chirps when Bridget unlaced her fingers and sank a set of talons into the tanned tummy of The Brat. The Peak Topper dug in her ‘Death Grip’ Belly Claw to finish her signature mode of tummy torture, shredding and squeezing into the pliant flesh of the whimpering Quake.
“This is how a wrestler works,” Stroud informed, digging her digits in deeper, drawing a yelp from The Brat then a loud ‘FAHHHHK’ from the blonde when Stroud leaned back farther, trying to tear the blonde fireplug in two.
Apparently feeling she’s softened the quivering Quake the appropriate amount, Stroud unhooked both her claw and her Stretch, allowing Kat to stumble forward a few steps, The Brat’s arms reflexively surrounding her knotted belly.
Bridget moved beside the aching Kat, sweeping an arm across her chest while the opposite number settled near the waistband of her foe’s trunks. Bridget YANKED the spandex high, wedging the material deep into Kat’s crotch. With her makeshift handle firmly within a white-knuckle grip, the Sweet Disaster LAUNCHED her shorter foe HIGH into the Orlando air then dropped to the canvas, DRIVING Braddock’s backbone into the thinly-sheathed plywood with her Rocked Bottoms.
ROCKED BOTTOMS:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=CmboQR00mwM
Kat settled into a dilapidated starfish, limbs spread wide. The mindful Stroud hopped to her feet, allowing Al to get to his counting, Carpenter reaching ‘SIX’ before Braddock stirred. She’s seated at ‘EIGHT’ and up at ‘NINE and a half’, backpedaling to the ropes, using the cables to keep herself upright.
But the unsteady Braddock hit them with a bit more force than control. She bounced off the strands and Stroud’s ready and waiting with a Lariat that put Kat on her back once again, gazing blankly at the lights above. Bridget rose for another count, but Carpenter only made ‘TWO’ before Kat reached for the nearby bottom rope and yanked herself beneath, rolling out and dropping her boot soles to the floor.
Stroud instantly took off for the opposite cables, throwing her athletic frame into the rubber-coated steel and zooming back at her wobbling target. But as Stroud Baseball Slid toward a Dropkick, Kat backed away a step, pulling the skirt of the apron with her. The Peak Topper skidded out and was immediately stuck in a stance behind the skirt. Movement restricted, Bridget came under fire as Braddock mounted a comeback with the direct approach, flying fists and forearms toward chest and chin.
With the Disaster pacified after the volley of chin-checkers, Braddock pulled Bridget free of her confinement, snatched a wrist and shoulder and HEAVED the brunette into a headlong dive into the steel ring steps, Stroud able to replace a headfirst collision with a dipped shoulder that’s plenty painful if not concussion-inducing.
A wincing Kat rubbed at her mottled tummy then ground her perfect pearlies, ignoring her distress and striding down the length of the ring to collect the puddled Stroud. She stuffed Bridget back in under the bottom cable and crawled in after her. With Kat pushing wearily to her feet, the battle shows its wear and tear on the two women whom those in the know considered stalwarts of FAWN’s future.
Stroud made it to hands and knees before the blonde could corral her. Braddock tugged Bridget to her feet then dipped an arm through the legs of Minnesota Wild, lifting her foe onto a shoulder, into Body Slammin’ position. The short, stocky blonde showed the power packed into her fireplug frame, carrying a squirming Bridget to the nearest corner and dropping her legs over the top rope at the knees, one on either side of the buckles.
Showing a practiced technique, The Brat quickly secured Stroud in a Tree of Woe. She pushed Al out of her way as she jogged to the opposite corner, tapped the top buckle, turned and sprinted toward her objective.
Taking a page out of Chrissy’s book, Braddock leapt from several feet out and THWUMPED a Dropkick below, or in this case, above the waistline, her boot soles CRASHING into Bridget’s crotch, the Sweet Disaster a victim of Daniel’s now Braddock’s Sand Blaster.
The force of the impact freed Bridget from her Tree and she tumbled to the canvas, curling into a fetal ball as she moaned insistently, hands buried between her thighs.
A huffing Kat, on her feet next to Carpenter, pushed him forward, demanding he stop trying to score brownie points with the crowd and count to ‘TEN’ at the proper speed.
The man began throwing digits in the air post-haste over a groaning, wriggling Disaster, Carpenter reaching ‘EIGHT’ with little sign of verticality in the cards. But like Kat before her, Bridget rolled under the ropes, using the rules in her favor to flop to the thinly-padded cement to break the count and keep herself in the match.
Furious at the denial, Braddock slugged Al on the arm, then stalked over to the ropes and slipped out onto the apron. “What, you think you’re going to hide out there, putz?” the Brat called down to Bridget, who was stretched out parallel to the ring with both hands wedged between her thighs. Kat had hoped for some pleading from the outmatched loser, but Stroud offered her nothing more than a defiant grimace, so Braddock backed up half a dozen steps and rushed down that narrow ledge to leap out and THAWHUMP every bit of her weight ass-first atop Sweet Disaster’s chest!
Kat popped to her feet with Stroud writhing in her shadow and took a moment to fluff her hair before flipping off the crowd. Once that was done she kicked both feet forward and dropped back down, the blonde fireplug detonating another megaton Butt Bomb on her rival’s chest!
Stroud’s legs kicked up so Braddock swatted them aside and bounced in place half a dozen times, the Cali Quake just putting more and more glute to the groaning Disaster. Returning to verticality after another stretch of preening, Kat plunged a hand into Bridget’s hair and peeled her off the floor only to scoop her up over one shoulder.
“Where should I put this piece of trash?” Braddock taunted the FAWNatics after she pivoted toward the front row. Those assembled suggested Kat put Bridget down with no additional hostility, which earned a derisive sneer from the blonde. “Yeah, f*ckin’ right. Just for that…” The Brat went up on tiptoe and slung Stroud to the floor as hard as she could, the sweaty THA-WHUMP of brunette bod against the barely-padded concrete earning a sympathetic groan from everyone within earshot.
Everyone except Kat, who strutted back to the apron and hopped on with a saucy little slap of her backside. Turning to face the flattened fighter, Braddock grabbed the top rope in both hands and gave it a violent shake to make sure that each and every one of these dopey putzes understood that this Quake was about to rattle the walls. They booed accordingly, their noise reaching a crescendo when Braddock took another flying leap from the apron, only now she stretched out full length and THWHAPPED her one hundred and twenty-three pounds across Bridget’s fluttering tummy with a rib-cracking Splash!
APRON SPLASH:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=0m8RAezLC_k
Stroud’s stems jolted as they had prior, but this time Braddock hooked both legs in a snug bundle and reached out with her free hand to slap out a, “ONE! TWO! THREE! YOU’RE OUT!”
She tossed the squirming limbs aside, got to her feet and planted a foot atop the brunette’s breasts to add even more emphasis to the brawny double bicep flex. Punctuating the pose with a single hard stomp to opposing tits, Kat bent down, collected Stroud at trunks and tresses and pulled her up just enough to bundle her under the bottom rope.
“Don’t even think about starting that count!” Braddock ordered Carpenter even as she rolled under the bottom rope. “This putz doesn’t get to go out that easy!”
Al stepped back with both hands raised, allowing the Brat free reign to haul the taller wrestler off the canvas in stages. A few brisk slaps to Stroud’s cheek meant she was coming around right about the time Braddock bulled her backward into the turnbuckles. Slaps gave way to Shoulderblocks, Kat treating Bridget to some vindictive tummy torture to ensure Minnesota Wild was gaping for breath when the blonde muscled her into a seat on the top turnbuckle.
With her trap set Braddock mounted the second rope and collected the brunette’s noggin in a Front Facelock. From there she slung Bridget’s near (left) arm across her shoulders and reached down to collect her left leg in a tight Cradle. “Gonna put you to sleep for a long, long time!” Braddock promised as she carefully climbed to the top rope and forced Stroud to do the same. “Maybe if you’re lucky you’ll wake up in time for next year’s ManiURGH! UGH! UGH! UGH!”
Bridget kept her free hand wrapped around the top rope for as long as she could, then she balled it into a fist and began to pound away at the blonde’s midsection! “Eeerrrrrrhhhhh, stop punching me, putz!” Braddock growled. “Don’t make me OOOOFFFHHH WHOOAAAANNNNGGGHHH!”
Stroud slammed a final fist home below the Brat’s navel and wrested free of the Facelock. Just like that she put both hands against Kat’s chest and sent her careening to the deck with massive shove! Nodding thanks to the crowd as they roared their delight, Bridget rose to her full height and leapt from the summit to come THA-WHAMMING down on Kat’s tummy with a ring-shaking Frog Splash!
FROG SPLASH:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=CIWlmko_jd0
Sweet Disaster bounced to one knee with an arm pressed to her midsection. She looked weary, albeit infinitely better than Kat, who rolled onto one side and curled into a tight ball around her roiling midsection! “Can’t take any more punches, Brat?” Stroud huffed as she dragged the blonde to a seat. “How about I stretch you instead?”
“Guuuuhhhh… get the hell offa EEERRRGGGHHH AAAAHHH!”
Bridget hooked her left leg over the Quake’s left arm to keep it out of the way while she stretched out across Kat’s back and dipped under her right arm to trap it under her left armpit.
“NO!” Kat shook her head wildly as her torso was bent against the brunette’s knee. “BYTCH, LET GO OF MEEEERRRRRRGGGHHH STAAAAAAAHP!”
Bridget raised her right hand high and SLAPPED it down onto Kat’s tummy to apply another white-knuckled claw grip! “AAAAAHHHHH GAAAAWD!” the Brat kicked her feet and squirmed from side to side in a desperate effort to escape Sweet Disaster’s Death Grip.
(ALMOST) DEATH GRIP:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=mDJ19qykhcU
“LUH-LEGGO PUTZ!” Kat sobbed, her tone growing higher and breathier as the claw took it’s toll. “YOU’RE NOT GONNA MAKE ME OOOOOHHHHHHH SHYT!”
Bridget stuffed her index finger into the Quake’s navel and squeezed all the harder. “Gave me two Kat Naps, remember, Brat?” Bridget said through gritted teeth. “Only fair I give you two Death Grips!”
Kat shook her head ‘no!’ and struggled harder than ever before she finally bleated out, “GIVE! I GIVE, BYTCH! JUST LEMME GOOOOOO!”
Bridget wrenched backward and continued to claw, Minnesota Wild piled on for almost twenty more seconds before she abruptly shoved the Brat away from the nauseating hold. Kat rolled to her stomach with both arms strapped tight across her belly while Bridget got to her feet and nudged Al’s shoulder. “Count her, Al.”
“ONE… TWO… THREE… FOUR… FIVE… SIX… SEVEN…” Braddock braced her hands and forehead against the mat and pushed to all fours… before collapsing in a facedown sprawl! Above her, Carpenter continued to count. “EIGHT… NINE…TEN!”
The bell sounded over a roar from the crowd, their noise growing all the louder when the Announcer confirmed, “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner and the Last Woman Standing… BRIDGET STROUD!”
Sweet Disaster allowed Al to raise her hand for the crowd, but she didn’t truly pose until she’d slipped a boot under Kat’s torso and rolled her onto her back. Then she raised a foot and carefully placed it on the Brat’s gulping tummy, Bridget slooooowly pressing down until Kat squirmed into pained, breathless life. Resisting the urge to stamp down, Stroud raised both arms and offered the ‘Mania throng a double bicep flex.
“The tremors have subsided for now!” she called over the din. “And I’m still climbing! If the Quakes want to keep trying, they know where to find me!” Bridget looked into the rafters and pointed an index finger in that direction. “Top of the mountain, baby!”
The brunette thanked the crowd with a final flex, then made a point to step on Kat’s tummy as she set off on her first FAWNamania victory stroll.