Post by hawkeye on Dec 8, 2021 1:38:16 GMT
As the humming crowd waits impatiently for Cold November Pain to begin, the stirring sound of the La Marseille blares through the sound system, eliciting a torrent of boos, not for France but for its diminutive, despicable export.
The French turncoat who betrayed one Kylie Sanders before Chill had the chance to turn on all of FAWN gets no credit for seemingly knowing the despicable nature of Sanders, mainly because she remains an arrogant brat above all else.
LeBlanc sets herself centre stage, button nose firmly stuck in the air. Long since relegated to a career of dark matches and house shows, she remains a despised and therefore bankable link to the Huggable/Kissable past for the odd pay-per-view. And apparently this one applied.
COSETTE LEBLANC
The penthouse fighter from the south of her country in times of yore gives her long dark locks a ferocious shake then makes her way toward the ring.
Cosette provides the assembled an ignominious international, one-fingered salute. The chocolate-colored mane of the one-time Riviera apartment house wrestler bouncing to and fro as she strides confidently to a rare opportunity in the limelight.
Always a kinetic ball of energy, she remains an enigmatic one as well, one that everyone in the building knows will use any means necessary to get what she wants…LA VICTOIRE!
As she reaches the ring, the music fades and the PA blares to life…
“Tonight’s next match is scheduled for one fall with a 20-minute time limit. Standing 5 feet 2 inches tall, weighing in at a 101 pounds from Nice, France, COSETTTE LEBLANC.”
The featherweight already has a microphone in hand as she strolls around the squared circle. She shifts clear from the wriggling dirty digits of the FAWN faithful, avoiding the touch of those who once heaped their useless admiration upon her.
“SHUT UP!” the snarling Frenchwoman shouts, “EEEDEEOTS.”
Cosette scowls at the morons, shaking her head.
“Only now do I truly understand how zdupeed you are, letting ky-LEE back in your good graces.”
The crowd responds with a loud set of boos LeBlanc shakes off.
“You weel need to learn again how devious zee Vaneela Cheel is. And when you do I weel laugh at your foolishness. Unteel zen, breeng out whatevah leetle chien I am to heel tonight.”
Clad in a skin-tight, metallic, cherry-red sports bra and boy-cut trunks with black boots and knee pads, Cosette faces the torrent of jeers with a smirk. LeBlanc climbs the steps and launches her lithe, lightly tanned body over the cables, the brunette walking to mid-ring to continue her address.
“SEE-LAHNCE,” LeBlanc demands. “Tonight. You weel zee I am zee modern Jean de Arc with one exception, I weel light zee fire on my foe.”
The crowd rains its hate from all directions while Cozy tosses the stick to a flunky on the floor and settles in her corner, waiting for whomever might be thrown in her direction.
Cozy and the FAWNatics don’t wait long, as the power pop of Tones and I’s Dance Monkey has people swaying in anticipation of the Yellow Rose.
( www.youtube.com/watch?v=q0hyYWKXF0Q )
From stage right, a flaxen-haired fighter who’s had little hype and less success in her previous PPV appearances cheerily moves to center stage. What the fresh-faced grappler does have is the vigor of youth and a sweet disposition to which members of the audience are drawn.
HEATHER CROFTON
Vibrating with excitement at having another shot at Pay-Per-View glory after coming up short, the babyfaced blonde struts to center stage in time with the catchy ditty.
She spins through a pirouette and vogues for the delighted devotees, a vision in yellow. The two-piece includes spandex boy-cut trunks and a cross-shoulder top, the side of the shorts includes a window of criss-crossed strips. The gear is completed with white pads and boots.
( i.imgur.com/4SRiQzy.jpg ) (without the snorkel gear and in yellow)
The rookie offers a brawny double-bicep pose but with a smirking hint of understanding that her guns are of small caliber. She skips her way down the aisle, bouncing from side to side, slapping hands, joyous with the opportunity to show the fans what she can do.
In the last several strides, the Texan takes off in a sprint, sliding in under the bottom rope on her palms and chest. She pushes to her feet and waggles through several exuberant, hip-swiveling spins as her music slowly fades.
The Lone Star Girl approaches her adversary and offers a handshake, only to have LeBlanc slap it away. Shrugging, Heather backpedals to the opposite buckles as the ring announcer takes the opportunity to provide her introduction.
“And her opponent. Fighting out of Grapevine, Texas. Standing 5’4” and weighing in at 122 pounds…Miss Mustang…Heather Crofton!”
The bubbly blonde leaps into the air, dropping into a set of splits. She pumps her first at the assembled, drawing an ovation that grows when she shifts to a tiny ball, kips to her feet, and climbs to the middle ropes of her corner, shouting “Whaddya say, y’all?!”
The throng responds with a feisty endorsement until the bell sounds.
Immediately, Cozy charges with double axhandle legally drawn to thrust it into the spine of the guileless Yellow Rose. But Heather isn’t as clueless as she seems, backflipping over the arriving LeBlanc, sticking the landing then smiling and waving at Cosette when the steamed Frenchwoman turns to find her target teasing.
A furious LeBlanc charges again with right arm wide from her side. But Crofton matrixes into an impressive, unsupported bridge and Cozy swipes and misses with her clothesline. Heather returns to vertical with an impish grin.
She rushes the veteran as the Frenchwoman spins to find the target she’s missed. Cosette is THUMPED with a snappy dropkick to the chest that sends LeBlanc flopping to her back. Cosette rolls out under the bottom rope, fashioning her hands into a ‘T’, calling for a timeout when her boot soles hit the arena floor.
An excited Lone Star Girl back handsprings to expend some pent energy, the crowd falling in love with the adorable blonde, chanting “HETH…ER…HETH…ER”.
On the outside, a livid Cozy slams the canvas with both palms, demanding Carpenter keep Crofton back, even though Miss Mustang is several yards away. Al politely asks Heather to remain removed from the ropes. She shrugs and nods.
“Fine. Come on in Cozy,” she shouts to her fellow curtain-jerker.
Perhaps the most notorious of Kylie Sanders’ former tag partners slides in under the bottom rope and pops to her feet. When Heather advances toward her no more than a step, Cosette ducks and slips her upper half between the top and middle ropes.
“Back,” she demands. “Keep zee brat, back.”
Carpenter motions LeBlanc back in under the penalty of a count and the Frenchwoman takes him up. She finally strides toward her approaching foe, hands up and extended for a collar-and-elbow between the diminutive warriors.
But no! Cozy guts Heather with a toe kick before they reach each other, Crofton doubled and gasping from the impaling boot. Cosette pivots and collects the blonde’s noggin in a side headlock, grinding on the youngster.
LeBlanc shifts her grip and hip tosses Miss Mustang to a seat on the deck, Heather wincing, hands reflexively reaching for her tush. Meanwhile, Cosette backpedals to the cables behind her and rebounds, instantly sprinting toward the Yellow Rose from her foe’s six. Showing very little ‘slow down’ after all these years, LeBlanc dives over Heather’s left shoulder, grabbing the blonde’s head as she flips by and POUNDS it into the deck between Crofton’s extended stems.
The neck snap sends the body of the folded kid springing open, Heather ending sprawled in a single file on her back, cradling her neck, her boot soles pattering on the canvas.
Cosette rolls up gracefully. She turns, flipping her long mane of chocolate-colored locks off her features and strides to the splayed Texan. Stepping over Heather, Cozy backflips once past and CRUSHES the blonde’s belly with a perfect standing moonsault that leaves her in a crossbody pin. The Frenchwoman hooks a leg for good measure, putting herself back on the lightweight divisional radar with the…
ONE…
TWO…
Crofton kicks free, tossing a shoulder up and rolling to her side where she swaddles her midriff with an arm. The brunette pushes Heather to a seated position, snatching the Lone Star Girl’s wrists and pulling her arms back for handles. LeBlanc stuffs a boot between Heather’s shoulderblades and works the youngster with a seated surfboard.
Crofton grunts through the pain as Cozy sees if she can remove the limbs at the sockets while pushing her heel THROUGH the struggling Heather’s breastbone.
Carpenter seems to have a notion to ask for a surrender but before he can, Heather presses her body against Cosette’s boot and uses the stability to rise from the mat. Cozy removes her foot as Crofton reaches vertical, Heather effectively countering. But with one wrist still in her possession, the French waterbug goes big against her fellow lightweight, ripping Heather into a 180-spin and sending the blonde rocketing to the deck from a short-arm clothesline.
The snarling Cosette still doesn’t release the grip on Miss Mustang’s right wrist, using it to pull her foe’s torso slightly off the canvas, so she can pound stomp after stomp into Heather’s chest, Crofton’s spine THUMPING against the thinly-sheathed plywood again and again until the Riviera native relents after a half-dozen blasts.
A chuckling Cozy raises her arms high and wide, playing to the jeering FAWNatics, giving them a deep bow, the crowd apparently transferring their hatred of the former Kissable back to her formerly Huggable partner.
LeBlanc revels in the boos, at least until a matbound Heather pulls her down from behind, rolling the tiny brunette into a tight cradled ball for the…
ONE…
TWO…
Cosette springs loose. She scrambles to her feet and leaps into a raised knee to Heather’s chin when the blonde likewise tries to reach her feet. Instead, Crofton is sent back-somersaulting to her chest from the impact. She presses up on her elbows, flexing and massaging her jaw, green eyes glassy.
The French grappler dips her fingers into the flaxen locks of her foe and RIPS a mewling Heather to her feet. Cozy starts to Irish whip the Lone Star Girl to the far buckles, but Crofton plants and pivots, reversing the whip and sending Cosette scooting to the corner where she turns into a booming, back-first collision.
Tasting momentum for the first time, Heather races toward her smaller foe, lowering a shoulder and leaping toward a spear that comes up empty when LeBlanc shows off her athleticism, bounding to the middle ropes. Crofton passes beneath, her right shoulder CRASHING into the steel ring post to the disappointment of the sellout crowd.
As a grimacing Crofton recedes and absently turns to face to the middle of the ring, cradling her wounded wing, Cozy climbs to the top. She cartwheels spectacularly atop the uppermost cable then descends, catching Heather’s braincase in a front facelock on the way down and Cartwheel DDTing the overmatched blonde to the canvas.
The head of the Lone Star Girl is SPIKED into the mat, Crofton tumbling over and sliding to a lifeless stop.
Cartwheel DDT ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=0gieZqtwx0E ) 00:05
Cosette can’t be denied a smattering of applause from such an impressive aerial assault. She dives across the splattered Texan for the win with the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
The youngster digs deeps and spasms free from under the lateral press, keeping her flickering hopes alive.
On all fours next to the faltering Heather, LeBlanc glares at Al.
“You muzt bee keeding mee.”
Carpenter assures not with two raised fingers.
An aggravated Cosette laces her fingers and slams a double axhandle into Crofton’s taut tummy. Heather’s body collapses around the impact, the Texan turtling around her aching midriff.
“Get your azz up,” Cozy insists, pulling Miss Mustang up by her wavy, golden locks then shoving Heather into a corner, the spine of the Yellow Rose THUMPING against the buckles.
Moving with the speed which often made her threat, the French flyweight races to the opposite corner, spins, and sprints toward the youngster. From several feet out, LeBlanc leaps into the air, vaulting into a quarter turn to give her foe a running hip check.
But Heather snatches the top rope to her right side and yanks herself clear. Cosette RAMS into the buckles instead. She staggers away from the corner, bent to her blasted half, massaging her ribs.
As the wincing brunette turns to find her missing target, Crofton loads a European Uppercut and ROCKS the former Kissable with a head snapper. The suddenly confident Lone Star Girl adds a second and third to the attack, Cozy left with an arm slung over the top rope on either side of a corner of her own.
With the brunette shaken, Heather moves close then NAILS LeBlanc with her Love Tap, a double-barreled overhand chop to her diminutive foe’s chest. Cozy’s body flinches from the stinging rebuke, the crowd reflexively ‘WOOOING’. Heather loads up another Tap when Cosette grabs Crofton by the noggin and exchanges positions with the blonde, Heather’s back now against the buckles.
But before the LeBlanc can fully reverse the situation, Heather digs a raised knee into Cozy’s abdomen. The Texan tugs Cosette’s lowered head into a front facelock and again reverses the positions of the grapplers.
Showing her strength against the smaller LeBlanc, Heather vaults Cosette’s lower half upward, laying her foe’s shins atop the uppermost cables. The Lone Star Girl then SPIKES the Frenchwoman’s head into the canvas with the Texas Danger, an amplified corner DDT.
Texas Danger ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=0g5gvN2X9wE )
Cozy’s body hits with such force, she bounces in a front flip to her feet for a split second before dropping lifelessly to a shoulder and hip. The FAWNatics groan in sympathy for an instant before realizing who’s just been planted. They cheer as Heather shovels the once upon French Riviera apartment house wrestler to her back and climbs aboard in a lateral press for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOO!
It’s the veteran’s turn to extend the match beyond what her foe expected, heaving a shoulder off the mat. It seems little more than reflex as LeBlanc manages little else.
Surprised by Cosette’s survival, the Yellow Rose pops to her feet, showing Carpenter three fingers to his two. He shakes his head. “Sorry kid, but ya didn’t get there.”
Heather turns to the crowd and begins a rhythmic clap, the masses quickly picking it up as the blonde turns her attention back to her veteran adversary. With Cozy up to a seated position but still dazed, Miss Mustang gets on her figurative horse, racing to the far ropes and rebounding. From a few feet, she leaps and THWAPS her lithe frame into Cozy’s with a Basement Crossbody.
Cosette’s flattened to the canvas from the collision. Crofton hooks the near leg behind the knee and rolls LeBlanc into a tight cradle, Cozy’s derriere pointed to the lights above for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
Again, the French waterbug survives, her body spasming free of the Lone Star Girl’s clutches with a split-second to spare. The youngster shows her frustration at being so close to her first FAWN victory but denied.
With the brunette pushing to one knee, Crofton ‘helps’ her foe up the rest of the way, slipping her arms under and around those of LeBlanc from behind. She laces her fingers together to lock in the full nelson and bears her mass down on Cozy’s head and shoulders.
The Frenchwoman’s arm flail within Heather’s trap, but the crafty former Kissable manages to thread her digits as well, cupping them over the crown of Heather’s head. She pulls the Lone Star Girl’s chin to the top of her braincase then LeBlanc quickly drops to her petite backside, bringing Crofton down with her, JACKING the blonde’s jaw in doing so.
Heather’s noggin whiplashes away from the impact, dragging her taut frame along for the ride in a drunken stagger, Crofton flexing and massaging her jaw while the seated Cosette tries to blink her senses back into place.
LeBlanc moves wearily to her knees while the crowd puts all their chips behind her young blonde counterpart. Heather takes off for the ropes in front of the brunette and rebounds toward her target. But as Crofton hits the u-turn out of the rubber-coated steel, LeBlanc hops to her feet then skies into a spinning heel kick to the chin of the Yellow Rose.
Spinning Heel Kick ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=prRlyhaon1k ) :52
Heather’s ripped off the canvas, her feet flying in front of her, the back of her head CRASHING to the deck from the force of the blow. The Lone Star Girl ends in a motionless starfish and Cozy leaps upon the splayed Crofton, hooking a leg for another shot at the win with the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOO!
Texas toughness carries Heather through again, Crofton scraping a shoulder off the canvas with the third slap on its way to falling.
The Frenchwoman tears at her own long dark locks when informed by Carpenter she’s come up short again. No pun intended.
A furious Cozy pushes Heather to her chest and sinks her nails into the flaxen locks of her foe. She draws Crofton’s skull up and THUMPS it into the thinly-sheathed plywood, the youngster’s head bouncing off the mat, her green eyes glassy.
“You have your chance een my spotlight,” Cozy informs. “And now I put eet out.”
As a struggling Heather pushes to all fours, a risen Cosette leaps into a forward flip and brings an acrobatic leg drop down across the back of Crofton’s neck, in turn SMASHING the face of the Lone Star Girl into the deck.
With Heather occupying a house on Dream Street, LeBlanc shovels what’s left of the blonde to her back with a boot under Crofton’s near shoulder.
Confirming the distance to the corner is perfect, the French waterbug flits to the buckles and climbs them with lightning speed. She turns to face her target and raises her arms high and wide, the decibels in the arena eardrum-antagonizing when Cosette makes it clear she’s ending Heather’s dreams with her Arc de Triomphe frog splash.
Frog splash ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=JzsnTKwEFSc )
LeBlanc tucks at the zenith of a stratospheric leap, then opens her limbs wide on the way down. But Heather pulls her knees into a tuck and offers a particularly bony landing pad for the wide-eyed brunette.
Cosette splashes across the kneecaps and rolls away, tightly hugging her midriff with both hands, retching as she desperately tries to draw in breaths, on her back, absently shifting from side to side.
With new life earned, the blinking blonde hardly seems aware of what she’s accomplished. She shoves to all fours and absorbs the sight of the incapacitated LeBlanc.
Perhaps realizing there’s been one too many near-falls, Crofton wraps her palms around the head of the ailing Cosette and draws the listless LeBlanc to her feet. Grabbing a wrist and shoulder, the Yellow Rose heaves Cozy to the far ropes and, out of instinct, the Frenchwoman remains upright, racing to the ropes and rebounding.
Returning to the Lone Star Girl, a semi-aware Cosette tries to leapfrog over Heather, but Crofton intercepts her foe, pressing her palms into either set of ribs, then LAUNCHING the diminutive veteran HIGH into the Orlando night.
As Cozy descends, Heather pivots into a blistering elbow strike, the pop-up exponentially adding to the force of the collision. After, LeBlanc is laid out, perhaps cold, the crowd roaring at the badassery from the Yellow Rose.
Pop-up Elbow Smash ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=1YleegSvlGI )
But again, Heather passes on a pin attempt. Instead, she hauls a flaccid Cozy to rubbery legs, shifting her grip to a ¾ facelock as she tugs LeBlanc toward a corner. Vaulting her boot soles to the middle ropes as she reaches the buckles, Crofton uses them to backflip with Cozy still in her grasp. And when Heather lands on her knees after the aerial somersault, Cosette’s spine and skull are THUMPED into the canvas with Heather’s Texas Toast.
Texas Toast (Sliced Bread) ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=uoyDE-F5lO4 ) 00:14
Miss Mustang isn’t going to let her broken French filly get away this time. She dives across the frame of the former Kissable, hooking BOTH legs for a cradle pin and the win at…
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOO!
The groan from the FAWNatics fills the building’s bowl as LeBlanc forces the fight onward when she slips a shoulder a few inches off the canvas.
On her haunches next to Cosette, Heather sweeps her golden mane off her features and reveals astonishment at Cozy’s tenacity, Crofton shaking her head in disbelief.
The Texan tugs LeBlanc to a similar position, blonde and brunette face to face, when a slack Cozy digs deep enough to spin Heather’s head with a wicked slap to Crofton’s cheek.
The Lone Star Girl’s reddening babyface turns grim upon its return. She grabs Cosette’s long, dark locks with her left hand and PUMMELS her foe with forearm strike after strike, making a full ten-count before relenting on a spent LeBlanc.
Pulling the wobbling Cozy to unsteady feet, the glistening youngster grabs one of LeBlanc’s dangling arms. She pivots with the captured limb to dip alongside her adversary and, cradling Cosette’s near leg, Heather RIPS the veteran off her feet with her Texas Tornado.
Texas Tornado ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=AYQacdoLnEM ) :46
The other deliveries of Cozy’s head and spine to the mat pale in comparison to Miss Mustang’s finisher, Cosette ending in a semiconscious seat. Heather pulls her foe flat to the canvas, hooks one leg and grapevines the other.
There’s no escaping this within…
ONE…
TWO…
THREEE!
The crowd explodes with excitement, every person in the arena rising to their feet with a standing ovation for the Lone Star Girl.
Heather lets Cosette’s limp leg fall to the canvas and uses the Frenchwoman’s shell to push to her feet. Wiping her brow with a grin, Crofton is ecstatic when Carpenter raises her left arm high, the announcer tagging on the official result.
“Your winner via pinfall…the Lone Star Girl…Heather Crofton!”
Reveling in her first FAWN victory, Heather heads for the heights of a corner, partying with the roaring masses, a HUGE milestone reached. Opening match at CNP or the main event at Mania, the Yellow Rose is blooming like she’s won the most important match in FAWN’s history.
To the jubilant Miss Mustang, it surely dang well is.
The French turncoat who betrayed one Kylie Sanders before Chill had the chance to turn on all of FAWN gets no credit for seemingly knowing the despicable nature of Sanders, mainly because she remains an arrogant brat above all else.
LeBlanc sets herself centre stage, button nose firmly stuck in the air. Long since relegated to a career of dark matches and house shows, she remains a despised and therefore bankable link to the Huggable/Kissable past for the odd pay-per-view. And apparently this one applied.
COSETTE LEBLANC
The penthouse fighter from the south of her country in times of yore gives her long dark locks a ferocious shake then makes her way toward the ring.
Cosette provides the assembled an ignominious international, one-fingered salute. The chocolate-colored mane of the one-time Riviera apartment house wrestler bouncing to and fro as she strides confidently to a rare opportunity in the limelight.
Always a kinetic ball of energy, she remains an enigmatic one as well, one that everyone in the building knows will use any means necessary to get what she wants…LA VICTOIRE!
As she reaches the ring, the music fades and the PA blares to life…
“Tonight’s next match is scheduled for one fall with a 20-minute time limit. Standing 5 feet 2 inches tall, weighing in at a 101 pounds from Nice, France, COSETTTE LEBLANC.”
The featherweight already has a microphone in hand as she strolls around the squared circle. She shifts clear from the wriggling dirty digits of the FAWN faithful, avoiding the touch of those who once heaped their useless admiration upon her.
“SHUT UP!” the snarling Frenchwoman shouts, “EEEDEEOTS.”
Cosette scowls at the morons, shaking her head.
“Only now do I truly understand how zdupeed you are, letting ky-LEE back in your good graces.”
The crowd responds with a loud set of boos LeBlanc shakes off.
“You weel need to learn again how devious zee Vaneela Cheel is. And when you do I weel laugh at your foolishness. Unteel zen, breeng out whatevah leetle chien I am to heel tonight.”
Clad in a skin-tight, metallic, cherry-red sports bra and boy-cut trunks with black boots and knee pads, Cosette faces the torrent of jeers with a smirk. LeBlanc climbs the steps and launches her lithe, lightly tanned body over the cables, the brunette walking to mid-ring to continue her address.
“SEE-LAHNCE,” LeBlanc demands. “Tonight. You weel zee I am zee modern Jean de Arc with one exception, I weel light zee fire on my foe.”
The crowd rains its hate from all directions while Cozy tosses the stick to a flunky on the floor and settles in her corner, waiting for whomever might be thrown in her direction.
Cozy and the FAWNatics don’t wait long, as the power pop of Tones and I’s Dance Monkey has people swaying in anticipation of the Yellow Rose.
( www.youtube.com/watch?v=q0hyYWKXF0Q )
From stage right, a flaxen-haired fighter who’s had little hype and less success in her previous PPV appearances cheerily moves to center stage. What the fresh-faced grappler does have is the vigor of youth and a sweet disposition to which members of the audience are drawn.
HEATHER CROFTON
Vibrating with excitement at having another shot at Pay-Per-View glory after coming up short, the babyfaced blonde struts to center stage in time with the catchy ditty.
She spins through a pirouette and vogues for the delighted devotees, a vision in yellow. The two-piece includes spandex boy-cut trunks and a cross-shoulder top, the side of the shorts includes a window of criss-crossed strips. The gear is completed with white pads and boots.
( i.imgur.com/4SRiQzy.jpg ) (without the snorkel gear and in yellow)
The rookie offers a brawny double-bicep pose but with a smirking hint of understanding that her guns are of small caliber. She skips her way down the aisle, bouncing from side to side, slapping hands, joyous with the opportunity to show the fans what she can do.
In the last several strides, the Texan takes off in a sprint, sliding in under the bottom rope on her palms and chest. She pushes to her feet and waggles through several exuberant, hip-swiveling spins as her music slowly fades.
The Lone Star Girl approaches her adversary and offers a handshake, only to have LeBlanc slap it away. Shrugging, Heather backpedals to the opposite buckles as the ring announcer takes the opportunity to provide her introduction.
“And her opponent. Fighting out of Grapevine, Texas. Standing 5’4” and weighing in at 122 pounds…Miss Mustang…Heather Crofton!”
The bubbly blonde leaps into the air, dropping into a set of splits. She pumps her first at the assembled, drawing an ovation that grows when she shifts to a tiny ball, kips to her feet, and climbs to the middle ropes of her corner, shouting “Whaddya say, y’all?!”
The throng responds with a feisty endorsement until the bell sounds.
Immediately, Cozy charges with double axhandle legally drawn to thrust it into the spine of the guileless Yellow Rose. But Heather isn’t as clueless as she seems, backflipping over the arriving LeBlanc, sticking the landing then smiling and waving at Cosette when the steamed Frenchwoman turns to find her target teasing.
A furious LeBlanc charges again with right arm wide from her side. But Crofton matrixes into an impressive, unsupported bridge and Cozy swipes and misses with her clothesline. Heather returns to vertical with an impish grin.
She rushes the veteran as the Frenchwoman spins to find the target she’s missed. Cosette is THUMPED with a snappy dropkick to the chest that sends LeBlanc flopping to her back. Cosette rolls out under the bottom rope, fashioning her hands into a ‘T’, calling for a timeout when her boot soles hit the arena floor.
An excited Lone Star Girl back handsprings to expend some pent energy, the crowd falling in love with the adorable blonde, chanting “HETH…ER…HETH…ER”.
On the outside, a livid Cozy slams the canvas with both palms, demanding Carpenter keep Crofton back, even though Miss Mustang is several yards away. Al politely asks Heather to remain removed from the ropes. She shrugs and nods.
“Fine. Come on in Cozy,” she shouts to her fellow curtain-jerker.
Perhaps the most notorious of Kylie Sanders’ former tag partners slides in under the bottom rope and pops to her feet. When Heather advances toward her no more than a step, Cosette ducks and slips her upper half between the top and middle ropes.
“Back,” she demands. “Keep zee brat, back.”
Carpenter motions LeBlanc back in under the penalty of a count and the Frenchwoman takes him up. She finally strides toward her approaching foe, hands up and extended for a collar-and-elbow between the diminutive warriors.
But no! Cozy guts Heather with a toe kick before they reach each other, Crofton doubled and gasping from the impaling boot. Cosette pivots and collects the blonde’s noggin in a side headlock, grinding on the youngster.
LeBlanc shifts her grip and hip tosses Miss Mustang to a seat on the deck, Heather wincing, hands reflexively reaching for her tush. Meanwhile, Cosette backpedals to the cables behind her and rebounds, instantly sprinting toward the Yellow Rose from her foe’s six. Showing very little ‘slow down’ after all these years, LeBlanc dives over Heather’s left shoulder, grabbing the blonde’s head as she flips by and POUNDS it into the deck between Crofton’s extended stems.
The neck snap sends the body of the folded kid springing open, Heather ending sprawled in a single file on her back, cradling her neck, her boot soles pattering on the canvas.
Cosette rolls up gracefully. She turns, flipping her long mane of chocolate-colored locks off her features and strides to the splayed Texan. Stepping over Heather, Cozy backflips once past and CRUSHES the blonde’s belly with a perfect standing moonsault that leaves her in a crossbody pin. The Frenchwoman hooks a leg for good measure, putting herself back on the lightweight divisional radar with the…
ONE…
TWO…
Crofton kicks free, tossing a shoulder up and rolling to her side where she swaddles her midriff with an arm. The brunette pushes Heather to a seated position, snatching the Lone Star Girl’s wrists and pulling her arms back for handles. LeBlanc stuffs a boot between Heather’s shoulderblades and works the youngster with a seated surfboard.
Crofton grunts through the pain as Cozy sees if she can remove the limbs at the sockets while pushing her heel THROUGH the struggling Heather’s breastbone.
Carpenter seems to have a notion to ask for a surrender but before he can, Heather presses her body against Cosette’s boot and uses the stability to rise from the mat. Cozy removes her foot as Crofton reaches vertical, Heather effectively countering. But with one wrist still in her possession, the French waterbug goes big against her fellow lightweight, ripping Heather into a 180-spin and sending the blonde rocketing to the deck from a short-arm clothesline.
The snarling Cosette still doesn’t release the grip on Miss Mustang’s right wrist, using it to pull her foe’s torso slightly off the canvas, so she can pound stomp after stomp into Heather’s chest, Crofton’s spine THUMPING against the thinly-sheathed plywood again and again until the Riviera native relents after a half-dozen blasts.
A chuckling Cozy raises her arms high and wide, playing to the jeering FAWNatics, giving them a deep bow, the crowd apparently transferring their hatred of the former Kissable back to her formerly Huggable partner.
LeBlanc revels in the boos, at least until a matbound Heather pulls her down from behind, rolling the tiny brunette into a tight cradled ball for the…
ONE…
TWO…
Cosette springs loose. She scrambles to her feet and leaps into a raised knee to Heather’s chin when the blonde likewise tries to reach her feet. Instead, Crofton is sent back-somersaulting to her chest from the impact. She presses up on her elbows, flexing and massaging her jaw, green eyes glassy.
The French grappler dips her fingers into the flaxen locks of her foe and RIPS a mewling Heather to her feet. Cozy starts to Irish whip the Lone Star Girl to the far buckles, but Crofton plants and pivots, reversing the whip and sending Cosette scooting to the corner where she turns into a booming, back-first collision.
Tasting momentum for the first time, Heather races toward her smaller foe, lowering a shoulder and leaping toward a spear that comes up empty when LeBlanc shows off her athleticism, bounding to the middle ropes. Crofton passes beneath, her right shoulder CRASHING into the steel ring post to the disappointment of the sellout crowd.
As a grimacing Crofton recedes and absently turns to face to the middle of the ring, cradling her wounded wing, Cozy climbs to the top. She cartwheels spectacularly atop the uppermost cable then descends, catching Heather’s braincase in a front facelock on the way down and Cartwheel DDTing the overmatched blonde to the canvas.
The head of the Lone Star Girl is SPIKED into the mat, Crofton tumbling over and sliding to a lifeless stop.
Cartwheel DDT ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=0gieZqtwx0E ) 00:05
Cosette can’t be denied a smattering of applause from such an impressive aerial assault. She dives across the splattered Texan for the win with the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
The youngster digs deeps and spasms free from under the lateral press, keeping her flickering hopes alive.
On all fours next to the faltering Heather, LeBlanc glares at Al.
“You muzt bee keeding mee.”
Carpenter assures not with two raised fingers.
An aggravated Cosette laces her fingers and slams a double axhandle into Crofton’s taut tummy. Heather’s body collapses around the impact, the Texan turtling around her aching midriff.
“Get your azz up,” Cozy insists, pulling Miss Mustang up by her wavy, golden locks then shoving Heather into a corner, the spine of the Yellow Rose THUMPING against the buckles.
Moving with the speed which often made her threat, the French flyweight races to the opposite corner, spins, and sprints toward the youngster. From several feet out, LeBlanc leaps into the air, vaulting into a quarter turn to give her foe a running hip check.
But Heather snatches the top rope to her right side and yanks herself clear. Cosette RAMS into the buckles instead. She staggers away from the corner, bent to her blasted half, massaging her ribs.
As the wincing brunette turns to find her missing target, Crofton loads a European Uppercut and ROCKS the former Kissable with a head snapper. The suddenly confident Lone Star Girl adds a second and third to the attack, Cozy left with an arm slung over the top rope on either side of a corner of her own.
With the brunette shaken, Heather moves close then NAILS LeBlanc with her Love Tap, a double-barreled overhand chop to her diminutive foe’s chest. Cozy’s body flinches from the stinging rebuke, the crowd reflexively ‘WOOOING’. Heather loads up another Tap when Cosette grabs Crofton by the noggin and exchanges positions with the blonde, Heather’s back now against the buckles.
But before the LeBlanc can fully reverse the situation, Heather digs a raised knee into Cozy’s abdomen. The Texan tugs Cosette’s lowered head into a front facelock and again reverses the positions of the grapplers.
Showing her strength against the smaller LeBlanc, Heather vaults Cosette’s lower half upward, laying her foe’s shins atop the uppermost cables. The Lone Star Girl then SPIKES the Frenchwoman’s head into the canvas with the Texas Danger, an amplified corner DDT.
Texas Danger ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=0g5gvN2X9wE )
Cozy’s body hits with such force, she bounces in a front flip to her feet for a split second before dropping lifelessly to a shoulder and hip. The FAWNatics groan in sympathy for an instant before realizing who’s just been planted. They cheer as Heather shovels the once upon French Riviera apartment house wrestler to her back and climbs aboard in a lateral press for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOO!
It’s the veteran’s turn to extend the match beyond what her foe expected, heaving a shoulder off the mat. It seems little more than reflex as LeBlanc manages little else.
Surprised by Cosette’s survival, the Yellow Rose pops to her feet, showing Carpenter three fingers to his two. He shakes his head. “Sorry kid, but ya didn’t get there.”
Heather turns to the crowd and begins a rhythmic clap, the masses quickly picking it up as the blonde turns her attention back to her veteran adversary. With Cozy up to a seated position but still dazed, Miss Mustang gets on her figurative horse, racing to the far ropes and rebounding. From a few feet, she leaps and THWAPS her lithe frame into Cozy’s with a Basement Crossbody.
Cosette’s flattened to the canvas from the collision. Crofton hooks the near leg behind the knee and rolls LeBlanc into a tight cradle, Cozy’s derriere pointed to the lights above for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
Again, the French waterbug survives, her body spasming free of the Lone Star Girl’s clutches with a split-second to spare. The youngster shows her frustration at being so close to her first FAWN victory but denied.
With the brunette pushing to one knee, Crofton ‘helps’ her foe up the rest of the way, slipping her arms under and around those of LeBlanc from behind. She laces her fingers together to lock in the full nelson and bears her mass down on Cozy’s head and shoulders.
The Frenchwoman’s arm flail within Heather’s trap, but the crafty former Kissable manages to thread her digits as well, cupping them over the crown of Heather’s head. She pulls the Lone Star Girl’s chin to the top of her braincase then LeBlanc quickly drops to her petite backside, bringing Crofton down with her, JACKING the blonde’s jaw in doing so.
Heather’s noggin whiplashes away from the impact, dragging her taut frame along for the ride in a drunken stagger, Crofton flexing and massaging her jaw while the seated Cosette tries to blink her senses back into place.
LeBlanc moves wearily to her knees while the crowd puts all their chips behind her young blonde counterpart. Heather takes off for the ropes in front of the brunette and rebounds toward her target. But as Crofton hits the u-turn out of the rubber-coated steel, LeBlanc hops to her feet then skies into a spinning heel kick to the chin of the Yellow Rose.
Spinning Heel Kick ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=prRlyhaon1k ) :52
Heather’s ripped off the canvas, her feet flying in front of her, the back of her head CRASHING to the deck from the force of the blow. The Lone Star Girl ends in a motionless starfish and Cozy leaps upon the splayed Crofton, hooking a leg for another shot at the win with the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOO!
Texas toughness carries Heather through again, Crofton scraping a shoulder off the canvas with the third slap on its way to falling.
The Frenchwoman tears at her own long dark locks when informed by Carpenter she’s come up short again. No pun intended.
A furious Cozy pushes Heather to her chest and sinks her nails into the flaxen locks of her foe. She draws Crofton’s skull up and THUMPS it into the thinly-sheathed plywood, the youngster’s head bouncing off the mat, her green eyes glassy.
“You have your chance een my spotlight,” Cozy informs. “And now I put eet out.”
As a struggling Heather pushes to all fours, a risen Cosette leaps into a forward flip and brings an acrobatic leg drop down across the back of Crofton’s neck, in turn SMASHING the face of the Lone Star Girl into the deck.
With Heather occupying a house on Dream Street, LeBlanc shovels what’s left of the blonde to her back with a boot under Crofton’s near shoulder.
Confirming the distance to the corner is perfect, the French waterbug flits to the buckles and climbs them with lightning speed. She turns to face her target and raises her arms high and wide, the decibels in the arena eardrum-antagonizing when Cosette makes it clear she’s ending Heather’s dreams with her Arc de Triomphe frog splash.
Frog splash ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=JzsnTKwEFSc )
LeBlanc tucks at the zenith of a stratospheric leap, then opens her limbs wide on the way down. But Heather pulls her knees into a tuck and offers a particularly bony landing pad for the wide-eyed brunette.
Cosette splashes across the kneecaps and rolls away, tightly hugging her midriff with both hands, retching as she desperately tries to draw in breaths, on her back, absently shifting from side to side.
With new life earned, the blinking blonde hardly seems aware of what she’s accomplished. She shoves to all fours and absorbs the sight of the incapacitated LeBlanc.
Perhaps realizing there’s been one too many near-falls, Crofton wraps her palms around the head of the ailing Cosette and draws the listless LeBlanc to her feet. Grabbing a wrist and shoulder, the Yellow Rose heaves Cozy to the far ropes and, out of instinct, the Frenchwoman remains upright, racing to the ropes and rebounding.
Returning to the Lone Star Girl, a semi-aware Cosette tries to leapfrog over Heather, but Crofton intercepts her foe, pressing her palms into either set of ribs, then LAUNCHING the diminutive veteran HIGH into the Orlando night.
As Cozy descends, Heather pivots into a blistering elbow strike, the pop-up exponentially adding to the force of the collision. After, LeBlanc is laid out, perhaps cold, the crowd roaring at the badassery from the Yellow Rose.
Pop-up Elbow Smash ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=1YleegSvlGI )
But again, Heather passes on a pin attempt. Instead, she hauls a flaccid Cozy to rubbery legs, shifting her grip to a ¾ facelock as she tugs LeBlanc toward a corner. Vaulting her boot soles to the middle ropes as she reaches the buckles, Crofton uses them to backflip with Cozy still in her grasp. And when Heather lands on her knees after the aerial somersault, Cosette’s spine and skull are THUMPED into the canvas with Heather’s Texas Toast.
Texas Toast (Sliced Bread) ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=uoyDE-F5lO4 ) 00:14
Miss Mustang isn’t going to let her broken French filly get away this time. She dives across the frame of the former Kissable, hooking BOTH legs for a cradle pin and the win at…
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOO!
The groan from the FAWNatics fills the building’s bowl as LeBlanc forces the fight onward when she slips a shoulder a few inches off the canvas.
On her haunches next to Cosette, Heather sweeps her golden mane off her features and reveals astonishment at Cozy’s tenacity, Crofton shaking her head in disbelief.
The Texan tugs LeBlanc to a similar position, blonde and brunette face to face, when a slack Cozy digs deep enough to spin Heather’s head with a wicked slap to Crofton’s cheek.
The Lone Star Girl’s reddening babyface turns grim upon its return. She grabs Cosette’s long, dark locks with her left hand and PUMMELS her foe with forearm strike after strike, making a full ten-count before relenting on a spent LeBlanc.
Pulling the wobbling Cozy to unsteady feet, the glistening youngster grabs one of LeBlanc’s dangling arms. She pivots with the captured limb to dip alongside her adversary and, cradling Cosette’s near leg, Heather RIPS the veteran off her feet with her Texas Tornado.
Texas Tornado ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=AYQacdoLnEM ) :46
The other deliveries of Cozy’s head and spine to the mat pale in comparison to Miss Mustang’s finisher, Cosette ending in a semiconscious seat. Heather pulls her foe flat to the canvas, hooks one leg and grapevines the other.
There’s no escaping this within…
ONE…
TWO…
THREEE!
The crowd explodes with excitement, every person in the arena rising to their feet with a standing ovation for the Lone Star Girl.
Heather lets Cosette’s limp leg fall to the canvas and uses the Frenchwoman’s shell to push to her feet. Wiping her brow with a grin, Crofton is ecstatic when Carpenter raises her left arm high, the announcer tagging on the official result.
“Your winner via pinfall…the Lone Star Girl…Heather Crofton!”
Reveling in her first FAWN victory, Heather heads for the heights of a corner, partying with the roaring masses, a HUGE milestone reached. Opening match at CNP or the main event at Mania, the Yellow Rose is blooming like she’s won the most important match in FAWN’s history.
To the jubilant Miss Mustang, it surely dang well is.