Post by hawkeye on Oct 5, 2020 0:29:05 GMT
Confirming the rumors Kylie finagled her way into another FAWNamania card, ‘Fancy’ by Iggy Azalea and Charli XCX echoes through the arena. Though her recent record didn’t offer much in the way of reasoning for her inclusion, the ear-splitting crowd reaction makes clear why Sanders is always money. The former members of the never forgetful Kylie Corps make sure their hated enemy hears it for her traitorous turn and the many years of disregard that followed.
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O-zpOMYRi0w )
Behind the chords of the hip-hop anthem and the numbing jeers, the Pleasant Valley Pariah strides to center stage, sneer firmly in place, Sanders roll-up win over Sid Duffy at R,W &B not improving her mood.
As customary, Vanilla is flanked by her partner J-Dogg, but tonight the full force of the H&B-Team join her as former tag teamers cousin Kristy and ‘Huggable’ Cosette LeBlanc follow. All four women are in their battle gear for the biggest stage FAWN has to offer.
KYLIE SANDERS
JASMINE WASHINGTON
KRISTY SANDERS
COSETTE LE BLANC
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 show off the legendary FAWN original, as if presenting her with a grander flourish will melt the icy hearts of the fans. The crowd nor Kylie seem interested in faking their feelings.
Rebuffed, Washington 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.
Backing up the lead twosome are the women meant to make tonight’s match a slaughter.
Minnesota-Not-So-Nice wears a maroon and metallic gold version of her kin’s wardrobe, Kristy shoulder to shoulder with Cosette, clad in a skin-tight, metallic, cherry-red sports bra and boy-cut trunks with black boots and knee pads. The quartet faces the torrent of jeers with utter disdain, the three, long-time veterans having long lost any positive connection with the sellout crowd and Jasmine being despised from the outset courtesy her connection to Chill.
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, though she smirks at a sign indicating ‘J-Dogg would be a beast if she wasn’t so Chill!’
Kylie passes on her usual lap in the opposite direction, motioning Kristy to take it for her. Meanwhile the former ‘Huggable and Kissable’ duo ascend the steps together, the long-ago Riviera penthouse fighter leading the way. The bite-sized brunette sits on the middle rope and pushes up the top. Sanders, the original, steps through, extending her record of most FAWN matches in history by one more, and Cozy quickly joins her.
From the opposite side of the ring, J-Dogg joins her partner in crime, hopping to the apron and swinging her legs through, plentiful seat travelling in between the stems. Last but not least, the Black Sheep of the Sanders’ clan and the power to Kylie’s wile, Kristy slips through the cables.
The full boat of Hot&Bothered congregate in the middle. Kylie, microphone already in hand, draws it to her lips when she’s interrupted by a growing ‘TROLL’ chant.
Ky demands Jasmine muff her ears as she screams at the FAWNatics to shut their mouths.
“Zehr would be no FAWN wizzout zis woman!” LeBlanc shouts, unable to overcome the booming chant. “SEEEH-LAHNCE!”
“TROLL…TROLL…TROLL!” comes the crowd’s reply.
The crowd roars with approval as a flustered Sanders stomps in a fury at the continued insult.
“For anyone wondering,” Kylie screams over the throng. “We’re American reality. The two women about to be sent back to the cartoons they jumped from are American fantasy. You may not like reality, but you’re damn well gonna respect it when the four of us tear them to shreds!”
Ky tosses the mic to a FAWN attendant and leads her crew to the corner farthest from the steps.
The first chords of Colonel Bogey’s March herald the arrival of the sparkling heroes.
Colonel Bogey’s March ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=BJepYzH1VUY ) 5:12
The proud Floridians rise not only out of respect for their country but out of excitement at the arrival of the wrestlers who bested Sanders and Washington at Swelter and had the guts to face the fully-loaded Hot&Bothered in a handicap match.
Their hearts fill with pride and eyes fill with an athletic, blonde beauty in stars-n-stripes, Lady Liberty emerging from stage right. The flaring spotlights zero in on her and 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
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.
Beside her, a fresh-faced brunette who’s graced the organization for only a couple months, the ethereal dark-haired beauty joining Liberty under the cavalcade of cheers.
PRINCESS GISELLE
With the appearance of Disney royalty, the newcomer moves to her newfound friend wearing what can only be called FAWNticized Sleeping Beauty gear.
( www.amiclubwear.com/costume-storybook-jj1-4615sultrysnow.html ) red boots instead of pumps
The Lady carries herself with absolute assurance, an unfaltering confidence that’s spellbinding, and a smile that’s nothing short of heartwarming. She moves down the ramp briskly. And next to her, Giselle 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.
The Lady’s pace is swift and measured, her bearing steady, the woman displaying her photogenic properties as she waves to the crowd, collects a microphone from an attendant, and ascends the steel steps, The Princess close behind.
Taking turns entering, they move to middle under the watchful eye of the four ne’er-do-wells in the far corner.
The Girl of Every State delivers a salute to the roaring crowd. The Woman called Liberty remains largely a mystery, her accent oddly lacking any telltale regional accent and yet, somehow, combining many. She could have come from anywhere within America with many in Orlando daring believe she comes from their hometown. The blonde brings the stick to her lips.
“Jasmine. Kylie. Kristy. Cosette,” Lady Liberty begins. “How could we not accept your offer to show what we did at Summer Swelter was no mistake? That no matter what underhanded tactics you employ. You cannot overcome the Greater Good.”
Sanders and Washington snarl at the callback and demand Castle take the microphone so he can start the match.
“Just one second, ladies,” Liberty adds. “The contract calls for a handicap match. You made that very clear this time.”
“Hell yeah we did,” Jasmine interrupts. “Da Man ain’t evenin’ the odds for you this time.”
Lady L nods toward the barking J-Dogg.
“But what you didn’t state clearly was that it would be a 4-on-2 handicap match.”
Hot&Bothered tilt their heads like confused canines.
“So we’ve added a woman who will now contribute to the Greater Good on an official basis, joining our humble two to make three!”
Katy Perry’s California Gurls emerges from the sound system and the crowd reenergizes, cheering enthusiastically for the adopted Golden State Wrestling icon. ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=F57P9C4SAW4 )
Already adored, the redhead emerges and takes a jaunty stance, hands on hips, admiring the ovation. The assembled welcome back FAWN’s former Artemis, who hadn’t reached footnote status in her early Orlando foray before blossoming and becoming a star with the LA-based fed as the legendary California Angel.
COLLEEN O’NEAL
The blue-eyed beauty waves to her admiring masses and the Sunshine State’s version of the Angel’s Choir cheers the Bay Area native to the ring. The long-time face of the Golden State franchise dashes to the squared circle, sliding in under the bottom rope and popping to her feet.
The auburn-haired hugs her new compatriots as Kylie and Jasmine bitterly argue this is not to what they agreed, but Nick assures them 4-on-3 fits the letter of the handicap law and they need to ready themselves.
O’Neal is garbed in her iconic tight spandex one-piece, halved in pink and sky blue with pink boots to mid-thigh and silver fingerless gloves, the Cali native is ready for her continued prodigal return, giving up her legend’s garb to work her way to the top of women wrestling’s premiere promotion in some thought the twilight of her profession.
Gear: ( www.dollskill.com/halloween-sexy-wrestling-champ-costume-set-pink-turquoise.html?gclid=Cj0KCQiAt_PuBRDcARIsAMNlBdr_8wE5qC_kyeTo6lFLvIAIVfi-oFHrA_YlWbDRyxEebaPXuRlroFIaAmIzEALw_wcB without the ‘belt’ ) .
The ring announcer breaks in and makes his introductions, running through the stats on either side then making clear tonight’s affair will be fought under standard tag rules save for the one-person advantage for H&B.
Flustered, a redfaced Kylie watches carefully as the Greater Good huddle and Lady Liberty emerges, ready to take up the mantle of the American Dreamers.
Recognizing the choice, Chill volunteers Jasmine, assuring Washington she matches up best with the striking, flaxen-haired patriot. J-Dogg nods hungrily, eager to show she could dismantle Da Man’s main woman after dethroning the Princess at RW&B.
Castle calls Liberty and Jas forward as the other grapplers depart then signals for the bell.
The echo of the bell’s barely cleared the air when J-Dogg shoots a toe kick at Liberty’s abdomen, but the blue-eyed beauty is ready for the chicanery, catching Washington’s leg around the ankle. She lifts it high to the delight of the FAWNatics, forcing Jasmine to hop on her planted stem.
“I didn’t need Da Man to tell me that was coming,” Lady L chuckles.
She’s giggling far less when Jasmine launches off her grounded boot sole and CRACKS an enziguri kick into the left temple of the blonde, sending Lady Liberty stumbling sideways.
Crowd silenced, J-Dogg scampers to her feet and shoves the American Idol into the ropes behind her. The National Treasure hits the rubber-coated steel and surges toward the Badass from Hotlanta. This time the African-American beauty’s delving kick finds the mark, digging into the tanned tummy of The Lady. Liberty doubles with a deep groan, her flat midriff roiling from the attack.
Bent and gasping, Liberty’s unaware of a charging J-Dogg and Kylie’s partner lifts a knee into the blonde’s forehead, Liberty sent flopping backward, her back CRASHING into the canvas. Staring blankly at the rafters, Liberty tries to blink some senses back into her gray matter as Washington takes a slow lap around the ring, showing off what she can do to Da Man’s woman.
Slowly, The Lady rolls to all fours on her way back to verticality. But Jas has other ideas, racing to a nearby neutral corner and hopping to the middle ropes. She nimbly climbs to the top, turning and leaping into the air, her boots landing HARD across the back of the blonde battler. The force sends Liberty careening to the deck, this time face-first, flattened by the vicious Mushroom Stomp. A beaming Jasmine points at the beloved blonde, Liberty chewing on canvas, her right hand reaching around to massage her lower vertebrae, when a familiar voice calls for a tag.
The leader of the supersized Hot&Bothered calls her partner home and Washington answers, striding to Vanilla Chill and slapping hands. Kylie scoots through the cables and reaches Lady Liberty as the American Idol reaches hands and knees. Dipping, Ky sinks a set of nails into Liberty’s scalp.
“Bish. Your torch is extinguished tonight.”
She yanks the bleary-eyed Liberty to her feet and paintbrushes the left cheek of the National Treasure.
“Mania is where I shine the brightest, you star-spangled bimbo.”
Liberty spins back from the swiveling impact with a reddening face but also a wicked bytch slap to Sanders’ ivory cheek, sending Sanders into a half-pirouette, stumbling away, rubbing at her stinging face.
Furious, Chill threatens retribution as she makes the 180-spin a full 360 and throws a right cross toward Liberty’s chin. The Lady blocks and responds with one of her own that rocks the FAWN original. Undeterred, Kylie fires another volley only for America’s Lady to connect with a jaw-jacking, five-fingered bomb that drops Ky to one knee for a split-second before she bounces up.
The Greater Good’s de facto leader snatches a wrist of the undisputed head of H&B and flings her to a neutral corner with an Irish Whip. Sanders sprints toward the buckles, turning and flying into them at full force, her diminutive frame shaken. Still, Chill remains upright if grimacing from the collision.
Already on her way, Liberty takes to the skies from a few feet out, her boot soles landing on Ky’s upper legs. The blonde’s hands wrap behind the platinum bob of her counterpart and Lady L throws her bodyweight in reverse, dropping to the canvas on her back and monkey flipping Kylie HIGH into the Orlando airspace, Sanders CRASHING to earth across her backbone. Ky yelps in pain, hand reaching for her spinal column as she arches in agony.
Meanwhile, Lady L is headed to her home base and tags in FAWN’s very own Disney-adjacent royalty. Giselle slips through the strands and races at the rising Hawkeye, leaping as the elfin blonde spins toward her. Ky’s hazel eyes pop wide as Giselle flies toward her foe as if a cannonball, knocking Sanders flat and ending atop her foe in a schoolgirl press. The Thesz special allows the Princess to show her pugilistic prowess, sending combos crashing into Sanders’ brow, swabbing the head of the Pleasant Valley Pariah from side to side, leaving Chill in a daze.
The Theme Park Monarch rises, pulling Kylie up to her knees in the process. As she lifts a bewildered Sanders to her haunches, the Princess positions herself in a standing forward straddle of Kylie’s cranium. She tightens her thighs in a head squeezing scissors of the reeling Chill then drops to her knees, PLANTING Kylie’s features into the deck with a Kneeling Facebuster.
Kneeling Facebuster ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=3-Ox6jqRXig ) 00:15
The Belle of the Brawl pivots to her backside, rotating Sanders to flat on her back. Giselle reaches forward and collects a floating leg of the platinum blonde, pulling it toward her and the Iowan into a cradle, the crown of Ky’s head tight to the brunette’s crotch for the…
ONE…
TWO…
Sanders kicks her way free, saving her and her teammates from a heaping helping of Mania humiliation.
Giselle grabs a wrist of the reeling Chill and pulls Sanders up with her. She pivots and whips Kylie into the “Greater Good’ corner, following behind with a corner splash that drives the breath from Ky. The Princess keeps Sanders buried in the buckles long enough to reach over the FAWN original’s shoulder and tag in Colleen.
O’Neal slips through the ropes, Giselle handing off the reins to her new teammate. The redhead turns away from her foe and reaches over a shoulder, grasping the hated Hawkeye with a ¾ facelock. O’Neal flips Sanders to a seat on the canvas with a snap mare. She steps on the lowered back of the Platinum Pixie, flattening Kylie’s chest to the canvas between her outstretched, abbreviated stems, then continues toward the frustrated trio in the opposite corner.
Stopping just out of reach, O’Neal offers a petulant wave before spinning in a 180 and racing to her seated target, landing a dropkick to Kylie’s torso, flattening Ky to the deck at warp speed. The California Angel dives atop Sanders, hooking a leg and rolling Vanilla Chill into a tight ball.
FAWN’s Most Hated struggles through…
ONE…
and TWO…
before kicking free and springing loose from the tight ball. She tries to slide under the bottom rope to the outside, but O’Neal latches onto an ankle and drags Kylie back to center stage.
Once there, the Platinum Pixie breaks loose, stamping a boot into Colleen’s knee to back up the riled redhead. Sanders pushes to her feet but is quickly corralled by O’Neal in a side headlock, the fan favorite lifting and twirling her opposite arm to inspire her Choir. With the crowd ‘singing their praises’ to wrestling’s Ginger Genius, Colleen surges forward with Kylie in tow. She leaps, legs extended, intent on bulldogging Ky to the deck. However, Sanders lifts her palms to O’Neal’s hips as her foe goes airborne and shoves the Golden State Wrestling legend off and away, Colleen landing hard on her tailbone.
As O’Neal works at her aching backside, Kylie, having dropped to her knees, receives desperate calls from her corner. Sanders pushes to her feet and turns. She staggers to H&B territory but gets caught from behind by O’Neal. Swinging her around by a wrist, the Angel has her baby blues blinded when Kylie reaches for her peepers and scrapes a set of nails across.
Squealing in anguish, the blinded Angel rubs furiously at her eyes as Ky leaps the remaining distance to her waiting cousin, Kristy slapping hands with her kin.
Apparently energized at regaining a spotlight for her talents, Kristy rushes toward the sightless O’Neal, nearly removing her head from her shoulders with a Big Boot to the chin. The veteran bounces up from the blasting collision to a seated position, only to get THUMPED with a soccer kick to the spine. O’Neal arches, face etched in pain. Part Deux captures the redhead around the noggin and pulls her up.
“You’re the big surprise?” Kristy queries. “You just give them a bigger handicap.”
The Black Sheep shows her strength, plucking Colleen off the deck, the redhead positioned perpendicular across her foe’s chest. Kristy strolls in a circle as the Angel squirms within her grasp before Sanders decides to deal with the GSW icon with a fallaway slam.
Fallaway Slam ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=aRAE0XAx_mE ) 00:05
O’Neal barrel rolls from the impact, settling on her back, the ivory-skinned cherub frowning as she reaches for the base of her spine. Kristy kips to her feet and charges the GG corner, NAILING Giselle with a forearm to the jaw, sending the Princess flying to the floor, Minnesota No-So-Nice looking on with a grin.
She puckers toward the fuming Liberty, backing away just in time to avoid a swing of frustration from the American Idol. Back to business, Sanders strides to a rising Colleen and lifts a knee into the pit of O’Neal’s stomach before her foe can fully straighten to vertical. The Bay Area native is raised from the canvas for a moment, groaning loudly on her return.
Sanders tugs the lowered head of her foe between her legs and wraps her arms around the gulping tummy of the Angel. Showing the power her cousin lacks, Kristy grunts as she flips Colleen up her torso, the redhead ending in a seated position atop Kristy’s shoulders. But it’s only for a split-second as she’s quickly headed in a down elevator, Part Deux sitting out and POWERBOMBING O’Neal nearly THROUGH the deck.
Flaccid legs in her control, Kristy leans forward, folding O’Neal in front of her, between her extended stems for the…
ONE…
TWO..
Showing the determination FAWNatics are increasingly accustomed to seeing, the redhead flops her way out of the predicament, ending on her side next to an unconvinced Sanders. Kristy pushes to her feet and gets in Castle’s grill, making her case he needs a refresher course on his counting skills.
Realizing she’s not changing the man’s mind, Sanders returns her attention to O’Neal, Colleen having made it to her knees. Kristy takes her foe’s noggin in both hands and guides the Angel to her feet. She’s rewarded with a forearm to her jaw from the redhead that stagger Part Deux, but the blonde fires back with one of her own and the well-seasoned grappler is sent stumbling to a neutral corner.
Sanders follows with a double axhandle raised to crown O’Neal, but Colleen slides out of the way and the Black Sheep rams her chest into the buckles. The redhead dives into a roll across the canvas, popping back up to her feet to launch into a tag of the American Idol.
A late-arriving Sanders finds Liberty already entered and The Lady RIPS Kristy off her feet with a clothesline. The Minnesota Mauler scurries to her feet only to be decked again in similar fashion by her flaxen-haired counterpart. Again Kristy rises, this time less nimbly, and she’s put on her back a third time with a rattling shoulder block.
Immediately, the Yankee Doodler is racing to the ropes. She rebounds and sprints toward the sprawled Sanders, cartwheeling her way then launching into a double leg drop at the end of her tumbling run that finds…nothing but empty canvas, Kristy having rolled clear.
Liberty’s face pinches in pain as her hands reflexively shoot to her aching, star-spangled derriere. A few feet away, Kristy uses the ropes to pull to her feet. A tick behind is the wincing National Treasure. Liberty lunges at Kylie’s cousin, another clothesline on the way, but Kristy ducks under. Sanders hooks elbows with Liberty when back-to-back with the blonde. Part Deux launches Lady L off the canvas, making the National Treasure her own personal backpack.
Giving up her underhooks to shift her torso to one side of the captured Liberty, Kristy lays out and PLANTS the American Idol’s face and chest into the deck with her ring-rattling Twin Cities Tumbler.
Twin Cities Tumbler ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=zUnS9XJdtxo )
Sanders pops to her feet but nearly collapses in a return to the canvas, catching herself before she takes a tumble of her own. Deciding it might be better for someone else to finish the mess she’s made of the Greater Good’s cornerstone, Kristy staggers to her corner and tags in the former Riviera penthouse protagonist.
Cosette grabs the top cable and flings herself into the ring as energetic as ever. Literally, hitting the ground running, the frenetic Frenchwoman races at the rising Liberty and leaps into a flawless dropkick to the blonde’s chin, sending The Lady backflipping over the ropes.
The American Idol manages to land on her feet, sticking an acrobatic landing on the arena floor even with her gray matter a bit scrambled from the ride. Meanwhile, LeBlanc races to the opposite strands and rebounds at full speed. She ZOOMS through the ropes and NAILS Lady L like a missile, the former ‘Huggable’ delivering the American Idol to the steel barricade behind her where the blonde crumples to a puddle at its base.
A protective Princess Giselle drops from the apron apparently seeking to interrupt Cozy’s attack. But the Frenchwoman’s cat-like reflexes come in handy. She turns and leaps, legs extended. The abbreviated, ivory stems clamp around the head of the Belle of the Brawl and Cosette RIPS the Disney-adjacent royalty off her feet with a head scissors takedown.
Head Scissors Takedown ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=cWbHQNGqfBc ) 00:31
Giselle flips through the air with the greatest of ease, landing harshly on her backbone, sliding to a stop several feet removed from the woman she’s trying to shield.
It’s Colleen’s turn to attempt to stem the tide on the French waterbug and she gets taken to one knee with a lightning boot to one of her bony caps. The brunette blur that is LeBlanc swings a front facelock around the skull of the lowered redhead and lays out to the thinly padded cement, DDTing the Angel into the afterlife, O’Neal left a quaking ivory shell from the rampaging Gallic sprite.
Cosette hops to her feet, rolls in and out of the ring to assuage the annoyance in stripes, and presents herself to the FAWNatics, arms high and wide in Mania jubilation. The crowd, while perhaps appreciative of the cleaning house Huggable completed, doesn’t like it’s been done to the women they love and shower the catty Nice native with jeers. LeBlanc makes it obvious the feeling’s mutual with a couple one-fingered salutes. She collects a rising Liberty and heaves her back in the squared circle, quickly sliding in behind her foe.
In a show of perseverance, Liberty pushes to her feet. However, she doesn’t stay there long as Cosette closes from her six, spinning through a grasp of the golden locks of the National Treasure, DRIVING her foe’s face into the canvas.
Slingblade Bulldog ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=mqZpql5g_f8 )
The force of the impact brings Liberty back to hands and knees, but she stares blankly into space, her senses dulled by the heat generated by H&B’s so-called B-Team. She’s met with a vicious boot to the ribs from the former ‘Huggable’, Lady L flopping to her back with a deep grunt. The skittering waterbug moves next to the splayed blonde, back to Liberty, and vaults into a backflip, the standing moonsault sending LeBlanc’s frame THUMPING across the American Idol’s tanned tummy.
Liberty folds in a jackknife around the crushing mini-mass of Cozy then melts to the canvas. Castle slides to the canvas next to the victor and vanquished to register the…
ONE…
TWO…
Liberty kicks free from the confinement, rolling to her side groaning, an arm wrapped around her bruised belly.
Cozy skips to her feet and sinks her fingers into Liberty’s blonde locks. She rips The Lady to hands and knees and leads her on all fours to the Hot&Bothered corner where LeBlanc tags her former partner. An excited Kylie enters, the former ‘Kissable’ joining her long-time friend and alternately rival.
Looking like they’ve haven’t missed a beat in the years since their tagging, the French AHW specialist and the Platinum Pixie lift Liberty to her feet grasp the National Treasure in dual front facelocks. Each grabs some spandex on either hip. Together they launch The Lady high, stalling her when the blonde’s boot soles point to the rafters. Cozy and Kylie let the blood drain from the overturned Liberty before letting her legs swing down in the direction they came. However, this time Liberty’s ankles drop across the uppermost cable.
Working in frightful unison, Cosette and Chill lay out, SPIKING Liberty’s braincase into the thinly-sheathed plywood from the elevated position, The Lady remaining face down and motionless after the collision. Kylie and Cozy rise to seated positions on either side and grin adoringly at each other before LeBlanc rolls under the ropes, leaving Ky to pick up the pin and the revenge win at…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
The stubborn patriot refuses to yield, shoving a shoulder up in the nick, a flustered Sanders staring in disbelief at Castle. He holds up two fingers to assure Vanilla Chill the match continues.
A pissed Ky slaps the tanned tummy of her foe and rival. Increasingly aware these goody-goodies need to be ended under FAWN’s biggest spotlight before they could grow into a weed that would be hell to dig out, Ky shoves the dazed Liberty to her chest and mounts her in a straddling crouch.
Sanders sweeps her arms under and around those of the patriot. She locks her fingers behind Liberty’s neck in a full nelson and leeeeans back in full control, yanking The Lady into a growing ‘C’ shape. The Clutch eventually forces Liberty’s baby blues to gaze to the lights above, features racked in pain from her wrenched neck and strained vertebrae.
“Give up bytch! This is MY night,” Kylie insists. “Not yours or your pretend heroines. I’ve put up with these mouth-breathing losers for years upon years. I’m the REAL hero!”
Liberty grunts out something approximating a ‘no’ when Nick asks if she wants to surrender, infuriating Kylie.
“Bad decision. Very bad,” Sanders growls, releasing her nelson and SLAMMING the American Idol’s face into the deck. In a kneeling straddle of the shellshocked Liberty’s back, Kylie piefaces the back of her foe’s head, drawing another round of jeers from the FAWNatics.
Chill spins on her mount to reverse the straddle. Instantly, the former members of the Corps know what’s coming. Ky raises her right hand, forming it into a set of talons.
“FARM…HAND,” the audience shouts enthusiastically, against their better judgement.
And Kylie sinks her digits deep into the meaty upper left thigh of The Lady, digging then grinding her hammy clamp into the muscle and nerve bundle just under the tanned curve of Liberty’s backside.
Mewling in pain, the National Treasure squirms under the mounted Hawkeye, Sanders leaning forward to drive her fingers further into her increasingly hated rival. Again, she demands Lady Liberty give in and again the patriot refuses. An increasingly frustrated Sanders pulls her tines free after long seconds of torture and begins punishing the blonde with a series of fists, slamming them into the reddened thigh of Liberty.
Relenting from fatigue, Kylie pushes to her feet and hovers over the lame Liberty, the wincing Lady tugging herself along the canvas, left leg deadweight after Kylie’s practiced abuse. Sanders stomps the mottled hammy, the American Idol twisting in pain, yelping from one, two then three impacts, Kylie clearly enjoying Liberty’s dire condition.
“You’re not escaping the shadows of mediocrity at my expense,” Chill shouts, grabbing an ankle of her foe and flipping the blonde to her back then landing a punt to the increasingly broken left ‘wheel’ of the American Idol. The Platinum Pixie starts to step around the aching limb, perhaps heading for a figure-four, though it’ll never be known, as when she briefly offers her backside to The Lady, Liberty plants her right boot between Ky’s cheeks and shoves Sanders off, Sanders stumbling toward her corner.
Already on her way to her Hot&Bothered teammates, Chill uses the momentum to tag her current collaborator; Jasmine swinging through the ropes as Liberty butt-scoots her way to the GG corner. The blonde reaches a hand behind her to bring in Golden State’s Glory.
Colleen has time to enter but little more as Wash is upon her, gutting O’Neal with a toe kick that doubles the redhead with a breathless groan.
Jasmine snatches a wrist of the bowed redhead and bullies her deep into a set of ropes only to send her flying to the opposite with an Irish Whip. As soon as Colleen is on her way, Washington runs after, meeting a rebounding Angel a few steps off the far cables, J-Dogg spinning into a Rear End to O’Neal’s chin, decking Greater Good’s new signee.
Rear End ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=lEFvAjqn7M8 )
Flattened in a flash, the back of Colleen’s head thumps against the canvas, baby blues glazed as she settles from the vicious double impact. The Angel stares glassy-eyed into the heavens as J-Dogg stands in a straddle above the dilapidated O’Neal. Jas kicks her golden-brown legs in front of her and plants her ass into the pit of Colleen’s abdomen.
Folding under the impaling Butt Bomb, O’Neal jackknifes beneath the Badass from Hotlanta then melts to the mat, demolished beneath a grinning, seated Wash, remaining planted for…
ONE…
TWO,,,
THRNOOO!
Getting a little too arrogant with her pin, Jasmine isn’t perfectly positioned and the stubborn Golden State legend proves she’s willing to push through the pain to stay alive for a monumental Mania win.
Sitting next to the surviving redhead and looking significantly more pissed, Jas raises her right leg and plunges the heel into Colleen’s right set of ribs, O’Neal groaning in pain as the boot finds its mark.
On the sidelines, a worried Liberty and Giselle rhythmically clap their way into the FAWNatics’ hearts, bringing the crowd along while Kylie shouts at the stupidity of the lemmings.
J-Dogg pulls a faltering O’Neal to her feet and womanhandles the redhead into the H&B corner, handing off to LeBlanc with a tag. But instead of heading in, the petite Frenchwoman heads up, climbing the corner from the outside. In the squared circle, Jasmine dips her head between O’Neal’s ivory stems from behind, her arms surrounding the legs on either side.
Showing her strength, the Badass lifts a wide-eyed Angel off the deck on her shoulders, Colleen’s arms pinwheeling to stay on her Electric Chair. Turning to the Hot&Bothered corner, the sneering Jas serves wrestling’s Ginger Genius up on a platter. Cozy dives off her penthouse perch in a tucked cannonball and rides a collapsing Colleen down to earth with an enormously assisted meteora.
It’s a surprise when the ring-rattling crash of a sandwiched O’Neal, doesn’t create a divot in the canvas-covered plywood. Her assist complete, Jasmine exits. But Cosette passes on the pin, instead quickly scrambling up from the ragged and prostrate Angel.
Determined to end Greater Good with a glorious Triumphant ending, Cozy heads for the heights once more, scaling a neutral corner and turning to put O’Neal in her sights. Launching and reaching rafter-scraping heights, LeBlanc tucks into a tight ball at the zenith of her flight then descends in her Arc de Triumphe open-legged frog splash, ready to finish off the fan favorites with a flourish.
One problem. The Ginger Genius is not quite as far gone as she appears. She too can pull into a ball, hers protective, leaving Cozy to splash down upon the redhead’s pointed knees. Her finisher disrupted, the former Huggable hugs the stuffing out of her battered belly, Cozy bug-eyed and gagging as she rocks from side to side.
In her corner, a furious Jasmine is less than supportive in her words and manner. Neither does Kristy seem particularly calm at the fateful turn. While Chill gnashes her perfect pearlies, she at least uses her voice to try and direct the gutted, bite-sized brunette back to a tag.
Cosette rolls upward, but seems stuck in a three-point stance, knees and forehead on the canvas, arms still slung around her gut. Not far from her, the California Angel struggles to take wing, wearily pushing to her feet. She staggers to Greater Good’s home base and dives to a tag of the Theme Park Monarch.
A fresh Giselle hustles through the ropes just as a mewling Huggable makes Kissable legal with a tickle of fingers. Kylie slips through the strands and charges toward the second-rate Cinderella but is decked by a savage shoulderblock, a levelled Sanders looking up in shock at the force the Princess had put through her frame.
Ky scampers to her feet but only in time to get planted again, this time by a scythe-like clothesline that puts the Hawkeye’s back to the boards once more. This time Kylie remains cheeks down as she skids along the canvas, butt-scooting her way back to the H&B corner where she reaches up for a tag with her cousin Kristy, the relative powerhouse of the Sanders’ clan entering in her kin’s place.
Part Deux circles the ring with the Disney-adjacent royalty, blonde and brunette coming together in a collar-and-elbow, the Black Sheep quickly turning into a grinding side headlock.
“Your fantasy world explodes tonight, loser,” Sanders growls. “And you can go back to playing dress up with the kiddies in the Magic Kingdom.”
Pivoting with her foe in her grip, Kristy lifts and drives a knee into the lowered forehead of Giselle, rocking the Princess. She slides behind the brunette, surrounding the alabaster abdomen of the Belle of the Brawl. Sanders lifts Giselle off her boot soles in a bearhug. Thinking quickly, the Princess throws her weight forward, trying to pull Kristy off her feet and into a roll-up pin, but the Real Deal remains vertical, yanking Giselle up and over, sending the Princess CRASHING to the deck with a body-rocking Wheelbarrow Suplex.
Wheelbarrow Suplex ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z6LYAxjO27Q )
Part Deux keeps her grip in place through the maneuver, bridging into a pin, Giselle stacked on her shoulders, her legs bicycling in the air above for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
Again, the Greater Good barely endures, the Princess able to flop to her side, breaking the pin with Castle’s slappin’ hand no more than a few inches off the canvas.
Sanders rises, tugging a ragdolled Princess with her, Giselle looking more like Sleeping Beauty by the second. With the brunette bent at the waist, the Black Sheep pivots so she has her ass plastered to the crown of Giselle’s noggin. She collects both arms in underhooks. The buzz in the crowd increases exponentially, the Mania denizens worrying about an MD Kristy that would send Giselle into semi-permanent slumber.
Kristy dips and spins so her head is now the lowered one, hooks still in place, her braincase becoming a standing seat for Giselle. All that remains is a lift and deathly deposit.
MD Kristy ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=nQsHUaasndo )
A squirming Princess makes the boost more difficult, the powerful Sanders failing on her first attempt to raise the brunette.
She doesn’t get another as the rookie breaks her linked arms loose from the blonde’s then scoops Kristy’s, reversing the hooks and sitting out, THUMPING Sanders’ face into the deck Giselle’s backside landing on top of the blonde’s head to increase the force incredibly.
The improvised inverted X-Factor removes Kristy from her consciousness and when a startled but excited Giselle shoves Sanders to her back and covers, the conclusion’s all but forgone with the…
ONE…
TWO…
Jasmine won’t allow Da Man to end things like dat, diving to the Princess and shoving her off with a split-second to spare.
Already fighting a handicap situation, Liberty isn’t about to let her girl be interrupted by the big-bootyed scoundrel, racing into the squared circle. She whistles toward a rising Washington, drawing a quarter-turn from the Badass, then runs Jasmine through with a spear sending J-Dogg sprawling and barrel-rolling out under the bottom rope. The American Idol slides out after her.
Back in the confines, Giselle takes a glance as Liberty pulls Jas to her boot soles and fires rights and lefts in all her star-spangled glory, Washington trying to block the fusillade. A stirring Kristy brings the Theme Park Monarch’s attention back to Kylie’s cuz. The Princess dips, collecting Sanders by the head and pulling Kristy to her haunches.
Any further ideas are violently interrupted when a recovered Cosette flies in with a rocket’s red glare, the shimmering Frenchwoman NAILING Giselle in the chest with a missile dropkick. The Princess back-somersaults away, finally coming to rest on her back after two full tumbles, dark eyes glassily trying to focus on the lights above.
Grabbing the dizzied Kristy by a wrist, the risen LeBlanc guides the blonde in a knee-walk toward the H&B corner, not noticing as a shellshocked Giselle crawls toward her corner, slapping hands with the Ginger Genius.
As Cozy shoves Sanders the rest of the way toward the waiting Sanders, a hand clamps down on her right shoulder from behind. Colleen tugs the diminutive brunette into a 180, thrusting a knee DEEP into Cozy’s ivory tummy, lifting the vertically-challenged LeBlanc a few inches off the canvas in the process.
Wrapping Cosette’s lowered head in a front facelock, O’Neal throws her legs up and behind her then swings back to a seat on the canvas, SPIKING Huggable’s head into the canvas. The flaccid Frenchwoman flips then flops to her back, out cold before she comes to a full stop in a wide starfish.
Alas FAWN’s Most Hated has the last play on this dance card and Ky runs toward a CRASHING knee to the face of the seated Golden State grappler.
But coming in from the front side gives the California Angel a split-second to process the flashing silvery bob headed toward her. She flattens before the impact, Chill sailing past without hitting the mark. Sanders the Original skids to a stop, elfin nose scrunching in frustration.
The Platinum Pixie turns and charges the rising redhead. O’Neal fades back to the canvas, tripping Chill to her chin with a drop toe hold that has Kylie cursing a blue streak. Ky flexes her jaw and runs her tongue over her pearlies to make sure all remain in place.
With all her chiclets checking out, she pushes to her feet, Liberty and Jasmine going hammer and tongs outside in front of her. Sanders turns to the left. A few steps away Cosette continues to sleep off O’Neal using her like a lawn dart.
“Bytch,” Ky growls, pushing to her feet. “Nobody does that to ma amour without kissing Kissable’s fists.”
But before Chill can turn and force O’Neal to face the music, the Angel wraps her wings around Kylie’s midriff from behind, cinching a bearhug tight, the embrace forcing a burst of an exhale from between the Hawkeye’s Cupid’s Arrow lips. Ky pries at the laced fingers of the Bay Area battler but to no effect.
Before Chill can find an alternative escape route, Colleen lifts Sanders off the canvas, Kylie’s toe tips reaching for the mat. The redhead pivots, twisting and PLANTING the face and chest of the Platinum Pixie into the deck, O’Neal landing atop her foe, sandwiching the air out of the compressed Chill, Colleen’s signature Golden Bear squashing another opponent.
The Angel rolls off Sanders, ending on her back next to the dazed Chill. Quickly lifting her right leg, the freckled fighter swings it in front of Kylie’s face, tucking it under the chin of the Platinum Pixie, while the left slides behind Ky’s noggin.
Shifting perpendicular to the wincing Chill, locking her legs in a figure-four, Colleen props up on her palms as the Mania crowd goes nuts, realizing what the San Fran native has in mind. O’Neal pivots her upper body so she can reach back and grab the topside of her left boot, Sanders squirming fitfully to keep the Angel from securing her Golden Gate. But Colleen gets there, closing the Gate.
Golden Gate ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=D9nNrBjYpwU )
Locked in, O’Neal’s finisher wrenches Kylie’s neck and back and begins cutting off the blood flow to Chill’s brain. Ky pleads for help from her Hot&Bothered compatriots. Jasmine’s too busy with Liberty, taking charge against the blonde on the outside but not so in control she can beak free. Cosette’s only vaguely in touch with the conscious world.
Cousin Kristy answers the call, entering and charging, but she’s picked off by a protective Princess, Giselle spearing the Black Sheep of the Sanders clan from the left side. Blonde and brunette tumble to the canvas and join J-Dogg and the American Idol on the floor after rolling under the cables.
The FAWNatics demand a whimpering Kylie surrender to the California Angel within, the Golden Gate turning Chill’s face crimson, Ky’s lids fluttering. And, with no cavalry coming and unconsciousness moments away, Kylie surrenders on FAWN’s grandest stage, manically tapping O’Neal’s shin, admitting her abject failure.
Barely believing, FAWN’s prodigal daughter needs Castle to call for the bell then scold her to release before O’Neal frees Sanders’ head before it pops. Chill flops to her back, hazel eyes blinking wide, trying to keep from fading into oblivion. It might be less painful than the realization she’s lost to Colleen not only in the redhead’s triumphant retirement match at Golden State Wrestling but now within Chill’s long-time home on the most prestigious card of the year.
Sanders covers her face with both hands, sinking into depression while Colleen leaps to her feet, the crowd roaring with glee. The ruckus and the realization breaks up the fighting on the outside, Liberty and Giselle pushing away from a stunned Jasmine and downcast Kristy. They slide into the ring and surround O’Neal in a three-way embrace as the announcer makes it official.
“Your winners…via pinfall from Collen O’Neal to Kylie Sanders…Greater Good!”
Blonde, brunette and redhead break into a line, the newest member in the middle. The Lady and the Princess hold an arm of the Ginger Genius aloft. The trio bow as if on Broadway to the cacophonous cheers, a blubbering Kylie a few feet from the celebration.
A semi-conscious Cozy slinks along the mat to Sanders and they commiserate on the canvas while the sellout throng revels with their beaming favorites, Giselle, Liberty and Colleen clapping for their fans and pumping fists as they depart.
Kristy leans against the apron too disappointed and perhaps too spent to enter. J-Dogg pushes through to join the former Huggable and Kissable, helping both women to their feet.
When LeBlanc tries to further comfort a despondent Ky, Wash angrily shoves her away.
“Know your place, Frenchie,” she steams. Cosette drops to a side and rolls out to join Kristy. The H&B-Team head for the ramp while Jasmine consoles her partner in an embrace…that tightens noticeably, Chill squirming and gasping.
J-Dogg lowers her encircling grip around the ivory waist of the Platinum Princess and lifts her off the deck, wildly swinging the depleted Vanilla from side to side within her curious cuddle.
A damaged Kylie flails as a silenced then increasingly excited crowd sees FAWN’s greatest traitor feel the bitter sting of betrayal. The Badass places Sanders down for a moment, only to slip a lowered head between Kylie’s quivering stems, easily lifting the Platinum Pixie off the deck. Each alabaster gam is across the golden-brown shoulders of Jasmine, a squealing Sanders’ head and torso soon draped down J-Dogg’s back.
Cheering nearly as loudly as for Greater Good’s win, the FAWNatics enjoy their catharsis when Jasmine sits out and BURIES the crown of Kylie’s skull and the silvery bob atop it into the deck like a railroad spike with her Ass Backwards Driver.
Ass Backwards Driver ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=xIrXluxc6VU )
Kylie spreads into an insensate sprawl behind the furious Jasmine who sits in silence a few seconds before rising to her feet, then turning and venting wrathfully at Sanders, pointing and jawing at the slumbering FAWN original.
“Bish. You ain’t nuthin’ but a fronting freeloader and I’ve had enough of carrying your tired lily ass all over these rings.”
Kristy and Cosette watch in a stupor, LeBlanc taking a step to intervene but Part Deux holds her back, perhaps partly out of protection, perhaps partly because she thinks her cousin has it coming. The duo head for the back as J-Dogg continues to bark at her now former partner.
“I wasted years on you, Karen!” Washington screams. “Keepin’ Chill cool. But now I’m just keepin’ it real. You done, girl.”
Jasmine surrounds Kylie’s head with both hands and yanks a rubbery Sanders to her feet, Ky only approximating verticality with the considerable ‘help’ of the Badass from Hotlanta.
J-Dogg drops her head and pushes it between Kylie’s lower limbs again, again lifting the beautiful deadweight, letting the flaccid Platinum Pixie dangle down her back, Sanders’ face planted on Wash’s opulent backside until Jasmine takes another seat and sends Kylie DEEP into a coma with a SECOND ASSBACKWARDS DRIVER!
Ass Backwards Driver ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=xIrXluxc6VU )
J-Dogg rises to an ovation from the crowd, though she doesn’t seem at all interested in the support. She turns to face the used-up shell that is Kylie and brushes off her hands, apparently well and truly done with Vanilla Chill.
Jasmine heads for the exit, leaving the EMTs to clean up the stain in aisle nine.
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O-zpOMYRi0w )
Behind the chords of the hip-hop anthem and the numbing jeers, the Pleasant Valley Pariah strides to center stage, sneer firmly in place, Sanders roll-up win over Sid Duffy at R,W &B not improving her mood.
As customary, Vanilla is flanked by her partner J-Dogg, but tonight the full force of the H&B-Team join her as former tag teamers cousin Kristy and ‘Huggable’ Cosette LeBlanc follow. All four women are in their battle gear for the biggest stage FAWN has to offer.
KYLIE SANDERS
JASMINE WASHINGTON
KRISTY SANDERS
COSETTE LE BLANC
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 show off the legendary FAWN original, as if presenting her with a grander flourish will melt the icy hearts of the fans. The crowd nor Kylie seem interested in faking their feelings.
Rebuffed, Washington 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.
Backing up the lead twosome are the women meant to make tonight’s match a slaughter.
Minnesota-Not-So-Nice wears a maroon and metallic gold version of her kin’s wardrobe, Kristy shoulder to shoulder with Cosette, clad in a skin-tight, metallic, cherry-red sports bra and boy-cut trunks with black boots and knee pads. The quartet faces the torrent of jeers with utter disdain, the three, long-time veterans having long lost any positive connection with the sellout crowd and Jasmine being despised from the outset courtesy her connection to Chill.
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, though she smirks at a sign indicating ‘J-Dogg would be a beast if she wasn’t so Chill!’
Kylie passes on her usual lap in the opposite direction, motioning Kristy to take it for her. Meanwhile the former ‘Huggable and Kissable’ duo ascend the steps together, the long-ago Riviera penthouse fighter leading the way. The bite-sized brunette sits on the middle rope and pushes up the top. Sanders, the original, steps through, extending her record of most FAWN matches in history by one more, and Cozy quickly joins her.
From the opposite side of the ring, J-Dogg joins her partner in crime, hopping to the apron and swinging her legs through, plentiful seat travelling in between the stems. Last but not least, the Black Sheep of the Sanders’ clan and the power to Kylie’s wile, Kristy slips through the cables.
The full boat of Hot&Bothered congregate in the middle. Kylie, microphone already in hand, draws it to her lips when she’s interrupted by a growing ‘TROLL’ chant.
Ky demands Jasmine muff her ears as she screams at the FAWNatics to shut their mouths.
“Zehr would be no FAWN wizzout zis woman!” LeBlanc shouts, unable to overcome the booming chant. “SEEEH-LAHNCE!”
“TROLL…TROLL…TROLL!” comes the crowd’s reply.
The crowd roars with approval as a flustered Sanders stomps in a fury at the continued insult.
“For anyone wondering,” Kylie screams over the throng. “We’re American reality. The two women about to be sent back to the cartoons they jumped from are American fantasy. You may not like reality, but you’re damn well gonna respect it when the four of us tear them to shreds!”
Ky tosses the mic to a FAWN attendant and leads her crew to the corner farthest from the steps.
The first chords of Colonel Bogey’s March herald the arrival of the sparkling heroes.
Colonel Bogey’s March ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=BJepYzH1VUY ) 5:12
The proud Floridians rise not only out of respect for their country but out of excitement at the arrival of the wrestlers who bested Sanders and Washington at Swelter and had the guts to face the fully-loaded Hot&Bothered in a handicap match.
Their hearts fill with pride and eyes fill with an athletic, blonde beauty in stars-n-stripes, Lady Liberty emerging from stage right. The flaring spotlights zero in on her and 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
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.
Beside her, a fresh-faced brunette who’s graced the organization for only a couple months, the ethereal dark-haired beauty joining Liberty under the cavalcade of cheers.
PRINCESS GISELLE
With the appearance of Disney royalty, the newcomer moves to her newfound friend wearing what can only be called FAWNticized Sleeping Beauty gear.
( www.amiclubwear.com/costume-storybook-jj1-4615sultrysnow.html ) red boots instead of pumps
The Lady carries herself with absolute assurance, an unfaltering confidence that’s spellbinding, and a smile that’s nothing short of heartwarming. She moves down the ramp briskly. And next to her, Giselle 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.
The Lady’s pace is swift and measured, her bearing steady, the woman displaying her photogenic properties as she waves to the crowd, collects a microphone from an attendant, and ascends the steel steps, The Princess close behind.
Taking turns entering, they move to middle under the watchful eye of the four ne’er-do-wells in the far corner.
The Girl of Every State delivers a salute to the roaring crowd. The Woman called Liberty remains largely a mystery, her accent oddly lacking any telltale regional accent and yet, somehow, combining many. She could have come from anywhere within America with many in Orlando daring believe she comes from their hometown. The blonde brings the stick to her lips.
“Jasmine. Kylie. Kristy. Cosette,” Lady Liberty begins. “How could we not accept your offer to show what we did at Summer Swelter was no mistake? That no matter what underhanded tactics you employ. You cannot overcome the Greater Good.”
Sanders and Washington snarl at the callback and demand Castle take the microphone so he can start the match.
“Just one second, ladies,” Liberty adds. “The contract calls for a handicap match. You made that very clear this time.”
“Hell yeah we did,” Jasmine interrupts. “Da Man ain’t evenin’ the odds for you this time.”
Lady L nods toward the barking J-Dogg.
“But what you didn’t state clearly was that it would be a 4-on-2 handicap match.”
Hot&Bothered tilt their heads like confused canines.
“So we’ve added a woman who will now contribute to the Greater Good on an official basis, joining our humble two to make three!”
Katy Perry’s California Gurls emerges from the sound system and the crowd reenergizes, cheering enthusiastically for the adopted Golden State Wrestling icon. ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=F57P9C4SAW4 )
Already adored, the redhead emerges and takes a jaunty stance, hands on hips, admiring the ovation. The assembled welcome back FAWN’s former Artemis, who hadn’t reached footnote status in her early Orlando foray before blossoming and becoming a star with the LA-based fed as the legendary California Angel.
COLLEEN O’NEAL
The blue-eyed beauty waves to her admiring masses and the Sunshine State’s version of the Angel’s Choir cheers the Bay Area native to the ring. The long-time face of the Golden State franchise dashes to the squared circle, sliding in under the bottom rope and popping to her feet.
The auburn-haired hugs her new compatriots as Kylie and Jasmine bitterly argue this is not to what they agreed, but Nick assures them 4-on-3 fits the letter of the handicap law and they need to ready themselves.
O’Neal is garbed in her iconic tight spandex one-piece, halved in pink and sky blue with pink boots to mid-thigh and silver fingerless gloves, the Cali native is ready for her continued prodigal return, giving up her legend’s garb to work her way to the top of women wrestling’s premiere promotion in some thought the twilight of her profession.
Gear: ( www.dollskill.com/halloween-sexy-wrestling-champ-costume-set-pink-turquoise.html?gclid=Cj0KCQiAt_PuBRDcARIsAMNlBdr_8wE5qC_kyeTo6lFLvIAIVfi-oFHrA_YlWbDRyxEebaPXuRlroFIaAmIzEALw_wcB without the ‘belt’ ) .
The ring announcer breaks in and makes his introductions, running through the stats on either side then making clear tonight’s affair will be fought under standard tag rules save for the one-person advantage for H&B.
Flustered, a redfaced Kylie watches carefully as the Greater Good huddle and Lady Liberty emerges, ready to take up the mantle of the American Dreamers.
Recognizing the choice, Chill volunteers Jasmine, assuring Washington she matches up best with the striking, flaxen-haired patriot. J-Dogg nods hungrily, eager to show she could dismantle Da Man’s main woman after dethroning the Princess at RW&B.
Castle calls Liberty and Jas forward as the other grapplers depart then signals for the bell.
The echo of the bell’s barely cleared the air when J-Dogg shoots a toe kick at Liberty’s abdomen, but the blue-eyed beauty is ready for the chicanery, catching Washington’s leg around the ankle. She lifts it high to the delight of the FAWNatics, forcing Jasmine to hop on her planted stem.
“I didn’t need Da Man to tell me that was coming,” Lady L chuckles.
She’s giggling far less when Jasmine launches off her grounded boot sole and CRACKS an enziguri kick into the left temple of the blonde, sending Lady Liberty stumbling sideways.
Crowd silenced, J-Dogg scampers to her feet and shoves the American Idol into the ropes behind her. The National Treasure hits the rubber-coated steel and surges toward the Badass from Hotlanta. This time the African-American beauty’s delving kick finds the mark, digging into the tanned tummy of The Lady. Liberty doubles with a deep groan, her flat midriff roiling from the attack.
Bent and gasping, Liberty’s unaware of a charging J-Dogg and Kylie’s partner lifts a knee into the blonde’s forehead, Liberty sent flopping backward, her back CRASHING into the canvas. Staring blankly at the rafters, Liberty tries to blink some senses back into her gray matter as Washington takes a slow lap around the ring, showing off what she can do to Da Man’s woman.
Slowly, The Lady rolls to all fours on her way back to verticality. But Jas has other ideas, racing to a nearby neutral corner and hopping to the middle ropes. She nimbly climbs to the top, turning and leaping into the air, her boots landing HARD across the back of the blonde battler. The force sends Liberty careening to the deck, this time face-first, flattened by the vicious Mushroom Stomp. A beaming Jasmine points at the beloved blonde, Liberty chewing on canvas, her right hand reaching around to massage her lower vertebrae, when a familiar voice calls for a tag.
The leader of the supersized Hot&Bothered calls her partner home and Washington answers, striding to Vanilla Chill and slapping hands. Kylie scoots through the cables and reaches Lady Liberty as the American Idol reaches hands and knees. Dipping, Ky sinks a set of nails into Liberty’s scalp.
“Bish. Your torch is extinguished tonight.”
She yanks the bleary-eyed Liberty to her feet and paintbrushes the left cheek of the National Treasure.
“Mania is where I shine the brightest, you star-spangled bimbo.”
Liberty spins back from the swiveling impact with a reddening face but also a wicked bytch slap to Sanders’ ivory cheek, sending Sanders into a half-pirouette, stumbling away, rubbing at her stinging face.
Furious, Chill threatens retribution as she makes the 180-spin a full 360 and throws a right cross toward Liberty’s chin. The Lady blocks and responds with one of her own that rocks the FAWN original. Undeterred, Kylie fires another volley only for America’s Lady to connect with a jaw-jacking, five-fingered bomb that drops Ky to one knee for a split-second before she bounces up.
The Greater Good’s de facto leader snatches a wrist of the undisputed head of H&B and flings her to a neutral corner with an Irish Whip. Sanders sprints toward the buckles, turning and flying into them at full force, her diminutive frame shaken. Still, Chill remains upright if grimacing from the collision.
Already on her way, Liberty takes to the skies from a few feet out, her boot soles landing on Ky’s upper legs. The blonde’s hands wrap behind the platinum bob of her counterpart and Lady L throws her bodyweight in reverse, dropping to the canvas on her back and monkey flipping Kylie HIGH into the Orlando airspace, Sanders CRASHING to earth across her backbone. Ky yelps in pain, hand reaching for her spinal column as she arches in agony.
Meanwhile, Lady L is headed to her home base and tags in FAWN’s very own Disney-adjacent royalty. Giselle slips through the strands and races at the rising Hawkeye, leaping as the elfin blonde spins toward her. Ky’s hazel eyes pop wide as Giselle flies toward her foe as if a cannonball, knocking Sanders flat and ending atop her foe in a schoolgirl press. The Thesz special allows the Princess to show her pugilistic prowess, sending combos crashing into Sanders’ brow, swabbing the head of the Pleasant Valley Pariah from side to side, leaving Chill in a daze.
The Theme Park Monarch rises, pulling Kylie up to her knees in the process. As she lifts a bewildered Sanders to her haunches, the Princess positions herself in a standing forward straddle of Kylie’s cranium. She tightens her thighs in a head squeezing scissors of the reeling Chill then drops to her knees, PLANTING Kylie’s features into the deck with a Kneeling Facebuster.
Kneeling Facebuster ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=3-Ox6jqRXig ) 00:15
The Belle of the Brawl pivots to her backside, rotating Sanders to flat on her back. Giselle reaches forward and collects a floating leg of the platinum blonde, pulling it toward her and the Iowan into a cradle, the crown of Ky’s head tight to the brunette’s crotch for the…
ONE…
TWO…
Sanders kicks her way free, saving her and her teammates from a heaping helping of Mania humiliation.
Giselle grabs a wrist of the reeling Chill and pulls Sanders up with her. She pivots and whips Kylie into the “Greater Good’ corner, following behind with a corner splash that drives the breath from Ky. The Princess keeps Sanders buried in the buckles long enough to reach over the FAWN original’s shoulder and tag in Colleen.
O’Neal slips through the ropes, Giselle handing off the reins to her new teammate. The redhead turns away from her foe and reaches over a shoulder, grasping the hated Hawkeye with a ¾ facelock. O’Neal flips Sanders to a seat on the canvas with a snap mare. She steps on the lowered back of the Platinum Pixie, flattening Kylie’s chest to the canvas between her outstretched, abbreviated stems, then continues toward the frustrated trio in the opposite corner.
Stopping just out of reach, O’Neal offers a petulant wave before spinning in a 180 and racing to her seated target, landing a dropkick to Kylie’s torso, flattening Ky to the deck at warp speed. The California Angel dives atop Sanders, hooking a leg and rolling Vanilla Chill into a tight ball.
FAWN’s Most Hated struggles through…
ONE…
and TWO…
before kicking free and springing loose from the tight ball. She tries to slide under the bottom rope to the outside, but O’Neal latches onto an ankle and drags Kylie back to center stage.
Once there, the Platinum Pixie breaks loose, stamping a boot into Colleen’s knee to back up the riled redhead. Sanders pushes to her feet but is quickly corralled by O’Neal in a side headlock, the fan favorite lifting and twirling her opposite arm to inspire her Choir. With the crowd ‘singing their praises’ to wrestling’s Ginger Genius, Colleen surges forward with Kylie in tow. She leaps, legs extended, intent on bulldogging Ky to the deck. However, Sanders lifts her palms to O’Neal’s hips as her foe goes airborne and shoves the Golden State Wrestling legend off and away, Colleen landing hard on her tailbone.
As O’Neal works at her aching backside, Kylie, having dropped to her knees, receives desperate calls from her corner. Sanders pushes to her feet and turns. She staggers to H&B territory but gets caught from behind by O’Neal. Swinging her around by a wrist, the Angel has her baby blues blinded when Kylie reaches for her peepers and scrapes a set of nails across.
Squealing in anguish, the blinded Angel rubs furiously at her eyes as Ky leaps the remaining distance to her waiting cousin, Kristy slapping hands with her kin.
Apparently energized at regaining a spotlight for her talents, Kristy rushes toward the sightless O’Neal, nearly removing her head from her shoulders with a Big Boot to the chin. The veteran bounces up from the blasting collision to a seated position, only to get THUMPED with a soccer kick to the spine. O’Neal arches, face etched in pain. Part Deux captures the redhead around the noggin and pulls her up.
“You’re the big surprise?” Kristy queries. “You just give them a bigger handicap.”
The Black Sheep shows her strength, plucking Colleen off the deck, the redhead positioned perpendicular across her foe’s chest. Kristy strolls in a circle as the Angel squirms within her grasp before Sanders decides to deal with the GSW icon with a fallaway slam.
Fallaway Slam ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=aRAE0XAx_mE ) 00:05
O’Neal barrel rolls from the impact, settling on her back, the ivory-skinned cherub frowning as she reaches for the base of her spine. Kristy kips to her feet and charges the GG corner, NAILING Giselle with a forearm to the jaw, sending the Princess flying to the floor, Minnesota No-So-Nice looking on with a grin.
She puckers toward the fuming Liberty, backing away just in time to avoid a swing of frustration from the American Idol. Back to business, Sanders strides to a rising Colleen and lifts a knee into the pit of O’Neal’s stomach before her foe can fully straighten to vertical. The Bay Area native is raised from the canvas for a moment, groaning loudly on her return.
Sanders tugs the lowered head of her foe between her legs and wraps her arms around the gulping tummy of the Angel. Showing the power her cousin lacks, Kristy grunts as she flips Colleen up her torso, the redhead ending in a seated position atop Kristy’s shoulders. But it’s only for a split-second as she’s quickly headed in a down elevator, Part Deux sitting out and POWERBOMBING O’Neal nearly THROUGH the deck.
Flaccid legs in her control, Kristy leans forward, folding O’Neal in front of her, between her extended stems for the…
ONE…
TWO..
Showing the determination FAWNatics are increasingly accustomed to seeing, the redhead flops her way out of the predicament, ending on her side next to an unconvinced Sanders. Kristy pushes to her feet and gets in Castle’s grill, making her case he needs a refresher course on his counting skills.
Realizing she’s not changing the man’s mind, Sanders returns her attention to O’Neal, Colleen having made it to her knees. Kristy takes her foe’s noggin in both hands and guides the Angel to her feet. She’s rewarded with a forearm to her jaw from the redhead that stagger Part Deux, but the blonde fires back with one of her own and the well-seasoned grappler is sent stumbling to a neutral corner.
Sanders follows with a double axhandle raised to crown O’Neal, but Colleen slides out of the way and the Black Sheep rams her chest into the buckles. The redhead dives into a roll across the canvas, popping back up to her feet to launch into a tag of the American Idol.
A late-arriving Sanders finds Liberty already entered and The Lady RIPS Kristy off her feet with a clothesline. The Minnesota Mauler scurries to her feet only to be decked again in similar fashion by her flaxen-haired counterpart. Again Kristy rises, this time less nimbly, and she’s put on her back a third time with a rattling shoulder block.
Immediately, the Yankee Doodler is racing to the ropes. She rebounds and sprints toward the sprawled Sanders, cartwheeling her way then launching into a double leg drop at the end of her tumbling run that finds…nothing but empty canvas, Kristy having rolled clear.
Liberty’s face pinches in pain as her hands reflexively shoot to her aching, star-spangled derriere. A few feet away, Kristy uses the ropes to pull to her feet. A tick behind is the wincing National Treasure. Liberty lunges at Kylie’s cousin, another clothesline on the way, but Kristy ducks under. Sanders hooks elbows with Liberty when back-to-back with the blonde. Part Deux launches Lady L off the canvas, making the National Treasure her own personal backpack.
Giving up her underhooks to shift her torso to one side of the captured Liberty, Kristy lays out and PLANTS the American Idol’s face and chest into the deck with her ring-rattling Twin Cities Tumbler.
Twin Cities Tumbler ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=zUnS9XJdtxo )
Sanders pops to her feet but nearly collapses in a return to the canvas, catching herself before she takes a tumble of her own. Deciding it might be better for someone else to finish the mess she’s made of the Greater Good’s cornerstone, Kristy staggers to her corner and tags in the former Riviera penthouse protagonist.
Cosette grabs the top cable and flings herself into the ring as energetic as ever. Literally, hitting the ground running, the frenetic Frenchwoman races at the rising Liberty and leaps into a flawless dropkick to the blonde’s chin, sending The Lady backflipping over the ropes.
The American Idol manages to land on her feet, sticking an acrobatic landing on the arena floor even with her gray matter a bit scrambled from the ride. Meanwhile, LeBlanc races to the opposite strands and rebounds at full speed. She ZOOMS through the ropes and NAILS Lady L like a missile, the former ‘Huggable’ delivering the American Idol to the steel barricade behind her where the blonde crumples to a puddle at its base.
A protective Princess Giselle drops from the apron apparently seeking to interrupt Cozy’s attack. But the Frenchwoman’s cat-like reflexes come in handy. She turns and leaps, legs extended. The abbreviated, ivory stems clamp around the head of the Belle of the Brawl and Cosette RIPS the Disney-adjacent royalty off her feet with a head scissors takedown.
Head Scissors Takedown ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=cWbHQNGqfBc ) 00:31
Giselle flips through the air with the greatest of ease, landing harshly on her backbone, sliding to a stop several feet removed from the woman she’s trying to shield.
It’s Colleen’s turn to attempt to stem the tide on the French waterbug and she gets taken to one knee with a lightning boot to one of her bony caps. The brunette blur that is LeBlanc swings a front facelock around the skull of the lowered redhead and lays out to the thinly padded cement, DDTing the Angel into the afterlife, O’Neal left a quaking ivory shell from the rampaging Gallic sprite.
Cosette hops to her feet, rolls in and out of the ring to assuage the annoyance in stripes, and presents herself to the FAWNatics, arms high and wide in Mania jubilation. The crowd, while perhaps appreciative of the cleaning house Huggable completed, doesn’t like it’s been done to the women they love and shower the catty Nice native with jeers. LeBlanc makes it obvious the feeling’s mutual with a couple one-fingered salutes. She collects a rising Liberty and heaves her back in the squared circle, quickly sliding in behind her foe.
In a show of perseverance, Liberty pushes to her feet. However, she doesn’t stay there long as Cosette closes from her six, spinning through a grasp of the golden locks of the National Treasure, DRIVING her foe’s face into the canvas.
Slingblade Bulldog ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=mqZpql5g_f8 )
The force of the impact brings Liberty back to hands and knees, but she stares blankly into space, her senses dulled by the heat generated by H&B’s so-called B-Team. She’s met with a vicious boot to the ribs from the former ‘Huggable’, Lady L flopping to her back with a deep grunt. The skittering waterbug moves next to the splayed blonde, back to Liberty, and vaults into a backflip, the standing moonsault sending LeBlanc’s frame THUMPING across the American Idol’s tanned tummy.
Liberty folds in a jackknife around the crushing mini-mass of Cozy then melts to the canvas. Castle slides to the canvas next to the victor and vanquished to register the…
ONE…
TWO…
Liberty kicks free from the confinement, rolling to her side groaning, an arm wrapped around her bruised belly.
Cozy skips to her feet and sinks her fingers into Liberty’s blonde locks. She rips The Lady to hands and knees and leads her on all fours to the Hot&Bothered corner where LeBlanc tags her former partner. An excited Kylie enters, the former ‘Kissable’ joining her long-time friend and alternately rival.
Looking like they’ve haven’t missed a beat in the years since their tagging, the French AHW specialist and the Platinum Pixie lift Liberty to her feet grasp the National Treasure in dual front facelocks. Each grabs some spandex on either hip. Together they launch The Lady high, stalling her when the blonde’s boot soles point to the rafters. Cozy and Kylie let the blood drain from the overturned Liberty before letting her legs swing down in the direction they came. However, this time Liberty’s ankles drop across the uppermost cable.
Working in frightful unison, Cosette and Chill lay out, SPIKING Liberty’s braincase into the thinly-sheathed plywood from the elevated position, The Lady remaining face down and motionless after the collision. Kylie and Cozy rise to seated positions on either side and grin adoringly at each other before LeBlanc rolls under the ropes, leaving Ky to pick up the pin and the revenge win at…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
The stubborn patriot refuses to yield, shoving a shoulder up in the nick, a flustered Sanders staring in disbelief at Castle. He holds up two fingers to assure Vanilla Chill the match continues.
A pissed Ky slaps the tanned tummy of her foe and rival. Increasingly aware these goody-goodies need to be ended under FAWN’s biggest spotlight before they could grow into a weed that would be hell to dig out, Ky shoves the dazed Liberty to her chest and mounts her in a straddling crouch.
Sanders sweeps her arms under and around those of the patriot. She locks her fingers behind Liberty’s neck in a full nelson and leeeeans back in full control, yanking The Lady into a growing ‘C’ shape. The Clutch eventually forces Liberty’s baby blues to gaze to the lights above, features racked in pain from her wrenched neck and strained vertebrae.
“Give up bytch! This is MY night,” Kylie insists. “Not yours or your pretend heroines. I’ve put up with these mouth-breathing losers for years upon years. I’m the REAL hero!”
Liberty grunts out something approximating a ‘no’ when Nick asks if she wants to surrender, infuriating Kylie.
“Bad decision. Very bad,” Sanders growls, releasing her nelson and SLAMMING the American Idol’s face into the deck. In a kneeling straddle of the shellshocked Liberty’s back, Kylie piefaces the back of her foe’s head, drawing another round of jeers from the FAWNatics.
Chill spins on her mount to reverse the straddle. Instantly, the former members of the Corps know what’s coming. Ky raises her right hand, forming it into a set of talons.
“FARM…HAND,” the audience shouts enthusiastically, against their better judgement.
And Kylie sinks her digits deep into the meaty upper left thigh of The Lady, digging then grinding her hammy clamp into the muscle and nerve bundle just under the tanned curve of Liberty’s backside.
Mewling in pain, the National Treasure squirms under the mounted Hawkeye, Sanders leaning forward to drive her fingers further into her increasingly hated rival. Again, she demands Lady Liberty give in and again the patriot refuses. An increasingly frustrated Sanders pulls her tines free after long seconds of torture and begins punishing the blonde with a series of fists, slamming them into the reddened thigh of Liberty.
Relenting from fatigue, Kylie pushes to her feet and hovers over the lame Liberty, the wincing Lady tugging herself along the canvas, left leg deadweight after Kylie’s practiced abuse. Sanders stomps the mottled hammy, the American Idol twisting in pain, yelping from one, two then three impacts, Kylie clearly enjoying Liberty’s dire condition.
“You’re not escaping the shadows of mediocrity at my expense,” Chill shouts, grabbing an ankle of her foe and flipping the blonde to her back then landing a punt to the increasingly broken left ‘wheel’ of the American Idol. The Platinum Pixie starts to step around the aching limb, perhaps heading for a figure-four, though it’ll never be known, as when she briefly offers her backside to The Lady, Liberty plants her right boot between Ky’s cheeks and shoves Sanders off, Sanders stumbling toward her corner.
Already on her way to her Hot&Bothered teammates, Chill uses the momentum to tag her current collaborator; Jasmine swinging through the ropes as Liberty butt-scoots her way to the GG corner. The blonde reaches a hand behind her to bring in Golden State’s Glory.
Colleen has time to enter but little more as Wash is upon her, gutting O’Neal with a toe kick that doubles the redhead with a breathless groan.
Jasmine snatches a wrist of the bowed redhead and bullies her deep into a set of ropes only to send her flying to the opposite with an Irish Whip. As soon as Colleen is on her way, Washington runs after, meeting a rebounding Angel a few steps off the far cables, J-Dogg spinning into a Rear End to O’Neal’s chin, decking Greater Good’s new signee.
Rear End ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=lEFvAjqn7M8 )
Flattened in a flash, the back of Colleen’s head thumps against the canvas, baby blues glazed as she settles from the vicious double impact. The Angel stares glassy-eyed into the heavens as J-Dogg stands in a straddle above the dilapidated O’Neal. Jas kicks her golden-brown legs in front of her and plants her ass into the pit of Colleen’s abdomen.
Folding under the impaling Butt Bomb, O’Neal jackknifes beneath the Badass from Hotlanta then melts to the mat, demolished beneath a grinning, seated Wash, remaining planted for…
ONE…
TWO,,,
THRNOOO!
Getting a little too arrogant with her pin, Jasmine isn’t perfectly positioned and the stubborn Golden State legend proves she’s willing to push through the pain to stay alive for a monumental Mania win.
Sitting next to the surviving redhead and looking significantly more pissed, Jas raises her right leg and plunges the heel into Colleen’s right set of ribs, O’Neal groaning in pain as the boot finds its mark.
On the sidelines, a worried Liberty and Giselle rhythmically clap their way into the FAWNatics’ hearts, bringing the crowd along while Kylie shouts at the stupidity of the lemmings.
J-Dogg pulls a faltering O’Neal to her feet and womanhandles the redhead into the H&B corner, handing off to LeBlanc with a tag. But instead of heading in, the petite Frenchwoman heads up, climbing the corner from the outside. In the squared circle, Jasmine dips her head between O’Neal’s ivory stems from behind, her arms surrounding the legs on either side.
Showing her strength, the Badass lifts a wide-eyed Angel off the deck on her shoulders, Colleen’s arms pinwheeling to stay on her Electric Chair. Turning to the Hot&Bothered corner, the sneering Jas serves wrestling’s Ginger Genius up on a platter. Cozy dives off her penthouse perch in a tucked cannonball and rides a collapsing Colleen down to earth with an enormously assisted meteora.
It’s a surprise when the ring-rattling crash of a sandwiched O’Neal, doesn’t create a divot in the canvas-covered plywood. Her assist complete, Jasmine exits. But Cosette passes on the pin, instead quickly scrambling up from the ragged and prostrate Angel.
Determined to end Greater Good with a glorious Triumphant ending, Cozy heads for the heights once more, scaling a neutral corner and turning to put O’Neal in her sights. Launching and reaching rafter-scraping heights, LeBlanc tucks into a tight ball at the zenith of her flight then descends in her Arc de Triumphe open-legged frog splash, ready to finish off the fan favorites with a flourish.
One problem. The Ginger Genius is not quite as far gone as she appears. She too can pull into a ball, hers protective, leaving Cozy to splash down upon the redhead’s pointed knees. Her finisher disrupted, the former Huggable hugs the stuffing out of her battered belly, Cozy bug-eyed and gagging as she rocks from side to side.
In her corner, a furious Jasmine is less than supportive in her words and manner. Neither does Kristy seem particularly calm at the fateful turn. While Chill gnashes her perfect pearlies, she at least uses her voice to try and direct the gutted, bite-sized brunette back to a tag.
Cosette rolls upward, but seems stuck in a three-point stance, knees and forehead on the canvas, arms still slung around her gut. Not far from her, the California Angel struggles to take wing, wearily pushing to her feet. She staggers to Greater Good’s home base and dives to a tag of the Theme Park Monarch.
A fresh Giselle hustles through the ropes just as a mewling Huggable makes Kissable legal with a tickle of fingers. Kylie slips through the strands and charges toward the second-rate Cinderella but is decked by a savage shoulderblock, a levelled Sanders looking up in shock at the force the Princess had put through her frame.
Ky scampers to her feet but only in time to get planted again, this time by a scythe-like clothesline that puts the Hawkeye’s back to the boards once more. This time Kylie remains cheeks down as she skids along the canvas, butt-scooting her way back to the H&B corner where she reaches up for a tag with her cousin Kristy, the relative powerhouse of the Sanders’ clan entering in her kin’s place.
Part Deux circles the ring with the Disney-adjacent royalty, blonde and brunette coming together in a collar-and-elbow, the Black Sheep quickly turning into a grinding side headlock.
“Your fantasy world explodes tonight, loser,” Sanders growls. “And you can go back to playing dress up with the kiddies in the Magic Kingdom.”
Pivoting with her foe in her grip, Kristy lifts and drives a knee into the lowered forehead of Giselle, rocking the Princess. She slides behind the brunette, surrounding the alabaster abdomen of the Belle of the Brawl. Sanders lifts Giselle off her boot soles in a bearhug. Thinking quickly, the Princess throws her weight forward, trying to pull Kristy off her feet and into a roll-up pin, but the Real Deal remains vertical, yanking Giselle up and over, sending the Princess CRASHING to the deck with a body-rocking Wheelbarrow Suplex.
Wheelbarrow Suplex ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z6LYAxjO27Q )
Part Deux keeps her grip in place through the maneuver, bridging into a pin, Giselle stacked on her shoulders, her legs bicycling in the air above for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
Again, the Greater Good barely endures, the Princess able to flop to her side, breaking the pin with Castle’s slappin’ hand no more than a few inches off the canvas.
Sanders rises, tugging a ragdolled Princess with her, Giselle looking more like Sleeping Beauty by the second. With the brunette bent at the waist, the Black Sheep pivots so she has her ass plastered to the crown of Giselle’s noggin. She collects both arms in underhooks. The buzz in the crowd increases exponentially, the Mania denizens worrying about an MD Kristy that would send Giselle into semi-permanent slumber.
Kristy dips and spins so her head is now the lowered one, hooks still in place, her braincase becoming a standing seat for Giselle. All that remains is a lift and deathly deposit.
MD Kristy ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=nQsHUaasndo )
A squirming Princess makes the boost more difficult, the powerful Sanders failing on her first attempt to raise the brunette.
She doesn’t get another as the rookie breaks her linked arms loose from the blonde’s then scoops Kristy’s, reversing the hooks and sitting out, THUMPING Sanders’ face into the deck Giselle’s backside landing on top of the blonde’s head to increase the force incredibly.
The improvised inverted X-Factor removes Kristy from her consciousness and when a startled but excited Giselle shoves Sanders to her back and covers, the conclusion’s all but forgone with the…
ONE…
TWO…
Jasmine won’t allow Da Man to end things like dat, diving to the Princess and shoving her off with a split-second to spare.
Already fighting a handicap situation, Liberty isn’t about to let her girl be interrupted by the big-bootyed scoundrel, racing into the squared circle. She whistles toward a rising Washington, drawing a quarter-turn from the Badass, then runs Jasmine through with a spear sending J-Dogg sprawling and barrel-rolling out under the bottom rope. The American Idol slides out after her.
Back in the confines, Giselle takes a glance as Liberty pulls Jas to her boot soles and fires rights and lefts in all her star-spangled glory, Washington trying to block the fusillade. A stirring Kristy brings the Theme Park Monarch’s attention back to Kylie’s cuz. The Princess dips, collecting Sanders by the head and pulling Kristy to her haunches.
Any further ideas are violently interrupted when a recovered Cosette flies in with a rocket’s red glare, the shimmering Frenchwoman NAILING Giselle in the chest with a missile dropkick. The Princess back-somersaults away, finally coming to rest on her back after two full tumbles, dark eyes glassily trying to focus on the lights above.
Grabbing the dizzied Kristy by a wrist, the risen LeBlanc guides the blonde in a knee-walk toward the H&B corner, not noticing as a shellshocked Giselle crawls toward her corner, slapping hands with the Ginger Genius.
As Cozy shoves Sanders the rest of the way toward the waiting Sanders, a hand clamps down on her right shoulder from behind. Colleen tugs the diminutive brunette into a 180, thrusting a knee DEEP into Cozy’s ivory tummy, lifting the vertically-challenged LeBlanc a few inches off the canvas in the process.
Wrapping Cosette’s lowered head in a front facelock, O’Neal throws her legs up and behind her then swings back to a seat on the canvas, SPIKING Huggable’s head into the canvas. The flaccid Frenchwoman flips then flops to her back, out cold before she comes to a full stop in a wide starfish.
Alas FAWN’s Most Hated has the last play on this dance card and Ky runs toward a CRASHING knee to the face of the seated Golden State grappler.
But coming in from the front side gives the California Angel a split-second to process the flashing silvery bob headed toward her. She flattens before the impact, Chill sailing past without hitting the mark. Sanders the Original skids to a stop, elfin nose scrunching in frustration.
The Platinum Pixie turns and charges the rising redhead. O’Neal fades back to the canvas, tripping Chill to her chin with a drop toe hold that has Kylie cursing a blue streak. Ky flexes her jaw and runs her tongue over her pearlies to make sure all remain in place.
With all her chiclets checking out, she pushes to her feet, Liberty and Jasmine going hammer and tongs outside in front of her. Sanders turns to the left. A few steps away Cosette continues to sleep off O’Neal using her like a lawn dart.
“Bytch,” Ky growls, pushing to her feet. “Nobody does that to ma amour without kissing Kissable’s fists.”
But before Chill can turn and force O’Neal to face the music, the Angel wraps her wings around Kylie’s midriff from behind, cinching a bearhug tight, the embrace forcing a burst of an exhale from between the Hawkeye’s Cupid’s Arrow lips. Ky pries at the laced fingers of the Bay Area battler but to no effect.
Before Chill can find an alternative escape route, Colleen lifts Sanders off the canvas, Kylie’s toe tips reaching for the mat. The redhead pivots, twisting and PLANTING the face and chest of the Platinum Pixie into the deck, O’Neal landing atop her foe, sandwiching the air out of the compressed Chill, Colleen’s signature Golden Bear squashing another opponent.
The Angel rolls off Sanders, ending on her back next to the dazed Chill. Quickly lifting her right leg, the freckled fighter swings it in front of Kylie’s face, tucking it under the chin of the Platinum Pixie, while the left slides behind Ky’s noggin.
Shifting perpendicular to the wincing Chill, locking her legs in a figure-four, Colleen props up on her palms as the Mania crowd goes nuts, realizing what the San Fran native has in mind. O’Neal pivots her upper body so she can reach back and grab the topside of her left boot, Sanders squirming fitfully to keep the Angel from securing her Golden Gate. But Colleen gets there, closing the Gate.
Golden Gate ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=D9nNrBjYpwU )
Locked in, O’Neal’s finisher wrenches Kylie’s neck and back and begins cutting off the blood flow to Chill’s brain. Ky pleads for help from her Hot&Bothered compatriots. Jasmine’s too busy with Liberty, taking charge against the blonde on the outside but not so in control she can beak free. Cosette’s only vaguely in touch with the conscious world.
Cousin Kristy answers the call, entering and charging, but she’s picked off by a protective Princess, Giselle spearing the Black Sheep of the Sanders clan from the left side. Blonde and brunette tumble to the canvas and join J-Dogg and the American Idol on the floor after rolling under the cables.
The FAWNatics demand a whimpering Kylie surrender to the California Angel within, the Golden Gate turning Chill’s face crimson, Ky’s lids fluttering. And, with no cavalry coming and unconsciousness moments away, Kylie surrenders on FAWN’s grandest stage, manically tapping O’Neal’s shin, admitting her abject failure.
Barely believing, FAWN’s prodigal daughter needs Castle to call for the bell then scold her to release before O’Neal frees Sanders’ head before it pops. Chill flops to her back, hazel eyes blinking wide, trying to keep from fading into oblivion. It might be less painful than the realization she’s lost to Colleen not only in the redhead’s triumphant retirement match at Golden State Wrestling but now within Chill’s long-time home on the most prestigious card of the year.
Sanders covers her face with both hands, sinking into depression while Colleen leaps to her feet, the crowd roaring with glee. The ruckus and the realization breaks up the fighting on the outside, Liberty and Giselle pushing away from a stunned Jasmine and downcast Kristy. They slide into the ring and surround O’Neal in a three-way embrace as the announcer makes it official.
“Your winners…via pinfall from Collen O’Neal to Kylie Sanders…Greater Good!”
Blonde, brunette and redhead break into a line, the newest member in the middle. The Lady and the Princess hold an arm of the Ginger Genius aloft. The trio bow as if on Broadway to the cacophonous cheers, a blubbering Kylie a few feet from the celebration.
A semi-conscious Cozy slinks along the mat to Sanders and they commiserate on the canvas while the sellout throng revels with their beaming favorites, Giselle, Liberty and Colleen clapping for their fans and pumping fists as they depart.
Kristy leans against the apron too disappointed and perhaps too spent to enter. J-Dogg pushes through to join the former Huggable and Kissable, helping both women to their feet.
When LeBlanc tries to further comfort a despondent Ky, Wash angrily shoves her away.
“Know your place, Frenchie,” she steams. Cosette drops to a side and rolls out to join Kristy. The H&B-Team head for the ramp while Jasmine consoles her partner in an embrace…that tightens noticeably, Chill squirming and gasping.
J-Dogg lowers her encircling grip around the ivory waist of the Platinum Princess and lifts her off the deck, wildly swinging the depleted Vanilla from side to side within her curious cuddle.
A damaged Kylie flails as a silenced then increasingly excited crowd sees FAWN’s greatest traitor feel the bitter sting of betrayal. The Badass places Sanders down for a moment, only to slip a lowered head between Kylie’s quivering stems, easily lifting the Platinum Pixie off the deck. Each alabaster gam is across the golden-brown shoulders of Jasmine, a squealing Sanders’ head and torso soon draped down J-Dogg’s back.
Cheering nearly as loudly as for Greater Good’s win, the FAWNatics enjoy their catharsis when Jasmine sits out and BURIES the crown of Kylie’s skull and the silvery bob atop it into the deck like a railroad spike with her Ass Backwards Driver.
Ass Backwards Driver ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=xIrXluxc6VU )
Kylie spreads into an insensate sprawl behind the furious Jasmine who sits in silence a few seconds before rising to her feet, then turning and venting wrathfully at Sanders, pointing and jawing at the slumbering FAWN original.
“Bish. You ain’t nuthin’ but a fronting freeloader and I’ve had enough of carrying your tired lily ass all over these rings.”
Kristy and Cosette watch in a stupor, LeBlanc taking a step to intervene but Part Deux holds her back, perhaps partly out of protection, perhaps partly because she thinks her cousin has it coming. The duo head for the back as J-Dogg continues to bark at her now former partner.
“I wasted years on you, Karen!” Washington screams. “Keepin’ Chill cool. But now I’m just keepin’ it real. You done, girl.”
Jasmine surrounds Kylie’s head with both hands and yanks a rubbery Sanders to her feet, Ky only approximating verticality with the considerable ‘help’ of the Badass from Hotlanta.
J-Dogg drops her head and pushes it between Kylie’s lower limbs again, again lifting the beautiful deadweight, letting the flaccid Platinum Pixie dangle down her back, Sanders’ face planted on Wash’s opulent backside until Jasmine takes another seat and sends Kylie DEEP into a coma with a SECOND ASSBACKWARDS DRIVER!
Ass Backwards Driver ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=xIrXluxc6VU )
J-Dogg rises to an ovation from the crowd, though she doesn’t seem at all interested in the support. She turns to face the used-up shell that is Kylie and brushes off her hands, apparently well and truly done with Vanilla Chill.
Jasmine heads for the exit, leaving the EMTs to clean up the stain in aisle nine.