Post by hawkeye on Aug 8, 2022 23:21:32 GMT
With Bethany Christian deciding to use her champion judoka as the worldwide ambassador for her brand for more than a year, the excitement she is defending at FAWN’s home base of Orlando has the crowd in a tizzy. And for it to be against the reformed Platinum Pixie turns the intensity to ‘11’.
Having survived an unexpected three-way for the #1 contendership position for the Lightweight title at Summer Swelter, Kylie Sanders has the ‘small girl’ belt in her sights, hoping to dethrone the world-travelling King and perhaps burnish her illustrious career with a final run with FAWN gold.
As the glorious, melodious return of Sixpence None The Richer’s ‘There She Goes’ sweeps through the arena, the closest thing the organization will get to Girl Scout Part Deux bounces on the balls of her feet from side to side backstage.
( www.youtube.com/watch?v=tMfXeuv4kZE )
On the other side of the curtain, the masses let loose with a huge cheer, the Corps feeling the return of their girl with the return of her iconic accompaniment. Ky gulps hard and pushes through. Moving to center stage, she seems slightly embarrassed by the roar, the sight of a humble Sanders bringing more collective love in the direction of the silvery-bobbed, elfin beauty.
KYLIE SANDERS
Continuing to draw on echoes of her original gear, Sanders sports a simple yellow-gold sports bra topside with black boy-cut shorts, black boots and pads. As she heads down the ramp, Kylie cups a hand to an ear, enjoying the chants of ‘KY-LEE’ much more than the scattered attempts of a few remaining haters to continue with ‘TROLL…TROLL…TROLL”
( www.yandy.com/products/lets-mesh-around-bra-set )
A beaming Sanders walks the aisle, happy to slap hands with her forgiving fans, gazing with delight at a poster proclaiming the Platinum Pixie as their Platinum Princess and next Lightweight Champion.
Sanders reaches the ring and takes a moment to gaze around the arena in amazement at full circle in the display of affection from the fans. She waves before slipping through the cables.
Moving to the middle, Ky applauds the sellout crowd before raising a microphone to her Cupid’s Arrow lips.
“Thank you so much.”
The Hawkeye waits for the din to die down.
“I’ll offer no guarantee to end the King’s reign and keep defenses of my favorite title here in FAWN Arena.”
The crowd cheers loudly, Kylie smirking guiltily about the cheap pop.
“But what I will do is make sure Maria knows she’s been in the fight of her life.”
Sanders hands the stick over to the ring announcer and recedes to her assigned corner to let lead ref Nick Castle check her for foreign objects. The official concludes as the announcer makes his introduction.
“Our next match is scheduled for one fall with a time limit of 45 minutes and is for the FAWN Lightweight championship. From Pleasant Valley, Iowa, standing 5 feet 4 inches and weighing in at 115 pounds, the Platinum Pixie…KYLIE SANDERS!”
The house erupts save for pockets of continued resistance or disbelief. Again, Kylie waves enthusiastically, nervously bouncing and stretching, impatient for a singles test that could end with a glorious return to gold in the twilight of her wrestling run.
’Paper Planes’ by M.I.A. heralds the entrance of King Maria Alves, judoka extraordinaire and FAWN’s first regal Lightweight Champion.
( www.youtube.com/watch?v=ewRjZoRtu0Y )
Maria steps through the curtains at the top of the entrance ramp dressed in a white gi and black belt, albeit much more form fitting than regulation typically allowed.
MARIA ALVES
Unlike her standard judo-wear, Alves continues to go without pants for her professional wrestling matches at the behest of the marketing and wardrobe departments, bare below the hips save for a pair of black bikini bottoms to preserve her modesty.
A gilded scepter in her hand and a diamond encrusted coronet atop her head reminds her audience of Maria’s royal status. The Lightweight title strap lays across her left shoulder, the judoka electing not to wear it around her waist so not to obscure the other belt serving as a testament to her prodigious skills.
Thrilled to have Alves and the belt she possesses back in the building, the throng provides the King a majestic welcome only overshadowed when the royal introduction is made.
“ON HER WAY TO THE RING… AT FIVE FOOT FOUR AND ONE HUNDRED SIXTEEN POUNDS… SHE IS YOUR LIGHTWEIGHT CHAMPION… YOUR HIGHNESS… KING MARIAAAA AAAAAALLLVVEESSSSSS!”
Accompanying the King are a quartet of towering Amazons dressed in the manner of Roman legionnaires -- each armored in a bronze-plated cuirass, pleated skirt, leatherbound sandals, and knee-high greaves while carrying a spear in one hand and a shield in the other. The members of the kings’ guard flank their master on four corners as she calmly pads down the entrance ramp on her bare feet, occasionally bobbing her head to the beat of her music. Maria and her entourage enter and claim the center of the squared circle, shooing Sanders out of the ring.
With the size and number of ‘eunuchs’, Ky decides to accede to the demand, leaving the ring to the champion.
One of the King’s loyal ‘eunuchs’ produces a microphone and hands it to her.
“Greetings and salutations, humble peasants, and rejoice, for you are graced by my regal presence! Huzzah!”
Maria speaks to a mostly silent arena, the FAWNatics now recalling the surreal atmosphere the King’s presence afforded. The stoic reception doesn’t dampen the sovereign’s spirits.
A second eunuch presents a scroll and unfurls it for her king to read.
“As king, it is my duty and divine right to conquer and enslave foreign lands and peoples,” Alves says to confused murmurs from the crowd, “This I have done for many months. From lands as far afield as England, the Philippines to the most exotic locales of Iowa and Texas.”
Maria motions Kylie back into the ring.
“Indeed, I put this poor farm laborer to sleep in the biggest hometown show the denizens of her small hamlet have ever attended. The sadness with which they watched as I proved the Pleasant Valley Peasant unworthy, the unconscious farmer left drooling on herself, so memorable.”
Sanders’ face scrunches in anger, Kylie demanding Castle remove the ‘eunuchs’ from the ring so the fight can get underway.
“I can see the welp wishes to delay her execution at the hands of her King no longer. Huzzah.”
Maria hands her scepter, crown, microphone and belt to her loyal King’s guard, one item for each, then bids them exit. She motions for the bell and a confused timekeeper shrugs at Nick. Castle rolls his eyes, knowing this may be a long night, and calls for the match to begin.
Kylie moves to the middle, expecting Maria to do likewise but Alves is in no particular hurry.
“Ask me politely to join you,” the King demands.
Sanders shrugs at Castle. Nick motions maybe the veteran should accede to the royal wishes, but Ky isn’t interested, striding to the champ only to have Maria move to the ropes and dip her head and torso between.
“Back this boorish farmhand away from me,” Alves insists, this time directing her command to the referee.
Nick steps between. “Let her come back in, Kylie.”
“Fine,” Sanders grunts.
The Platinum Pixie takes a few steps back and the King swings her body back in the squared circle.
“Thank you for controlling the rabble,” the Brazilian says, recognizing Castle for his efforts.
The FAWNatics grow restless with the lack of action and slowly a chant builds ‘FIGHT…FIGHT…FIGHT!’, Sanders egging on her Kylie Corps. The King is not amused. She steps through the ropes and drops to the arena floor, striding for the exit.
“I knew there was a reason I’ve been away from this backwater burg. You don’t deserve me.”
But as Maria reaches the base of the ramp, Kylie snatches her from behind by a shoulder and wrist and spins the lightweight titleholder to the ring, rushing her to the apron and tossing her in under the bottom rope. Ky rolls in behind and hops to her feet, reaching Alves as she gets her bare tootsies beneath her.
The FAWN original ROCKS Maria with a European Uppercut, once, twice, thrice, until the King leans into the ropes behind her, shock and pain etched on flawless features. Sanders grabs a wrist and flings the judoka to the opposite cables with an Irish Whip, following the tawny-skinned grappler to the middle. Ky sets for her foe’s return center stage, dipping and pushing on the upper legs of the charging Alves.
Up and over Maria goes, the King sent flipping HIGH into the air before CRASHING to the deck with the back body drop. Maria rises to a seated position, arching in pain, dark eyes flashing surprise. Her peepers grow wider still when Sanders plants a soccer kick to the base of her spine. Maria’s chest thrusts forward in response.
Sanders grabs the King’s battle bun and uses it like a handle to pull the King to her feet.
“You seem to think this is a game,” Kylie snaps at the judoka, spinning Maria to face her and swiveling Alves’ head with a forearm shiver. “I don’t have time for those. I’m taking the belt. You keep the scepter.”
Sanders dips and sends an arm between the legs of Alves. Nimbly, she scoops Maria off the canvas and onto her right shoulder where she pivots and deposits the Brazilian to the deck with a body slam.
With the champ splayed before her, Kylie rushes to the ropes at the judoka’s side. Gaining speed out of the springy cables, she launches upon her return, legs extended for a drop across the throat and chest of the King, but Maria rolls clear, leaving Kylie to spike her tailbone to the canvas when all that’s left is empty mat.
As Ky reaches for her throbbing backside, Maria plops to her derriere behind the Pixie and wraps her sinewy stems around Sanders’ waist. She slips her arms under and around those of the challenger, locking her fingers in a full nelson. Maria shoves Kylie’s face forward, the blonde’s chin forced to her chest, then tightens the vise of the scissors, drawing mewls from Sanders as she struggles in a fight for her freedom.
“It would serve you best,” Alves whispers in Sanders’ ear, “to pay homage to your King since she controls your fate.”
The self-proclaimed royalty releases her scissors and nelson, pops to her feet, and gives Kylie a disdainful pe-face shove to the back of her foe’s head. Sanders scrambles to her feet, fuming.
She surges toward the leader of FAWN’s lightweights only to be grabbed unexpectedly before the women lock up in more traditional fashion. Ky’s sent tumbling to the mat, landing with a heavy thump courtesy a seio-nage.
Seio-nage ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=eWEW9SfI5xg ) 1:49
With Ky’s arm still in her control, Maria folds the limb and drops to the mat to apply a shortarm scissors, Kylie groaning in pain from the quick work of the judo black belt.
Shortarm scissors ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=a4PHQ7lnvZg ) :03
Sanders yanks on her silvery bob to spread the pain from her elbow joint. Kylie knows well the odd nature of the King doesn’t change the fact she’s a master of martial arts and joint manipulation, the main but not only reasons she’s maintained an iron grip on the belt through her world travels.
The veteran shakes her head emphatically when Castle asks if she wants to surrender. Instead, Kylie shifts her frame enough to drop an ankle over the bottom rope. The Iowan yelps for release and the capricious King obliges instantly, Alves pushing to her feet and offering a hand for shaking.
A confused Kylie spins on her butt so she faces the judoka while rising. She shakes out her wounded wing but not while grasping Maria’s proffered palm.
“I forgive you,” Alves assures. “I can only guess what it feels like to be inferior to a woman SO much younger.”
Sanders chuckles, rolling her eyes. “Yeah. OK.” Ky slaps the hand away and the King is or acts as though she’s genuinely hurt by the gesture.
Kylie forces the action, thrusting her ivory-skinned frame forward into a collar-and-elbow, but Maria adroitly spins so the women are shoulder to shoulder, Alves snakes her left leg around Kylie’s right, wrapping an arm behind the neck of the Platinum Pixie and RIPS her foe to the deck with a side Russian Legsweep.
Side Russian Legsweep ( www.youtube.com/watch?app=desktop&v=sYknjY1T7CQ%C2%A0 )
Maria reaches across the flattened physique of the Pleasant Valley Princess, Kylie cradling the back of her braincase, Alves hooking her adversary’s far leg for the…
ONE…
TWO…
Ky kicks free, rolling to her side to keep her gilded dreams alive. But smoothly and with a certainty of purpose, Maria again ends in a seat at the head of the Hawkeye. She grabs both wrists of the challenger and pulls Kylie to a seat. While maintaining her handles, she lifts her legs, folding them and locking them at the ankles behind Kylie’s neck.
Lotus Lock ( www.youtube.com/watch?app=desktop&v=S6RDDVobul8%C2%A0 )
Her next torturous grip secure, Maria tries to remove Kylie’s arms from their sockets while simultaneously wrenching the neck of the Pixie. A silenced Corps watches in futility as the King works over her subject and their leader with impunity.
Sanders writhes within her confinement but refuses to submit when given the chance under the watchful eye of FAWN’s lead referee.
Convinced the Platinum Peasant isn’t yet appropriately subservient, Maria unlocks her ankles and CRASHES a heel into the back of Sanders’ skull a half dozen times before emancipating the farmer girl. She releases the blonde’s wrists and kick/shoves her away, remaining on the ground as Ky fights to all fours, the grappler with FAWN’s most seniority looking her age against the supple, erudite judoka.
“I don’t need to put you to sleep like in PV,” Maria mentions, sitting Indian style as a pained Sanders reaches one knee and rolls her neck muscles while shaking out her unloaded guns.
“That was a necessary show for your peeps in your hometown. Those that really love you. Not all the fakes here in your so-called Corps.”
Sanders pushes up the rest of the way, huffing, knowing the King’s gambit but feeling the bile reach the back of her throat all the same.
Kylie surges toward the champ but ducks under a collar-and-elbow, instead swinging around Alves and capturing Maria in a waistlock from behind. Tightening the embrace for a moment, Sanders then spins out of the grapple before a counter can come, latching onto a wrist to heave the Brazilian for a trip to the far ropes.
But the judoka keeps a return grip tight and reverses, dipping and tugging Kylie to her shoulders, the blonde’s upper body draped down her foe’s back, Maria’s arms locking behind the knees of the Iowan. Sanders squirms, trying to find a way out of the predicament, but there’s only one, the ring-rattling Alabama Slam the King delivers to her increasingly dilapidated subject.
Alabama Slam ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=OFUQH1fT1aU&t=26s ) 1:05
Maria stares down at the splayed Sanders. She plucks both ankles off the canvas and folds Kylie in a jackknife pin, Ky’s legs framing her pained visage with Maria sitting on Kylie’s upturned ass while pressing her palms down on the FAWN original’s boot heels for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
Sanders kicks her legs, unfolding from beneath the judoka enough to flop to her side and get a shoulder off the canvas, keeping hope alive for Kylie’s Corps. The blonde rolls the rest of the way to her chest, when Maria latches onto Kylie’s left ankle. Alves lifts the leg high, keeping her arms wrapped tightly.
As a grimacing Sanders reaches for the nearby ropes, the King backpedals her challenger to the middle and drops to the canvas, grapevining a scissors around the possessed limb, making for an extra level ankle lock.
Grapevined Ankle Lock ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=n4poYwhtBgw&t=13s ) :27
Kylie yelps in agony, writhing to free herself from the world traveling titlist. The Pixie’s left arm raises reflexively, hovering over the canvas, as Ky buries her head into the mat, wailing and looking like she might tap away the title opportunity.
With the Platinum Pixie holding on, Maria transitions to a half-Crab, continuing to torture the captured stem of the silvery-bobbed grappler. Alves leeeans back, trying to curl Ky’s body into a cruel ‘C’. Still, the renowned stubbornness of the Iowan remains.
Frustration grows within the King as her subject fails to show the proper respect. Maria makes a half-turn, rising out of her crouch, and lifts the limb high, then SLAMS the Hawkeye’s knee into the thinly-sheathed plywood.
Sanders howls in anguish, cradling her injured limb close as she slides on the opposite hip to a corner, the veteran showing an inability to compete with the Brazilian’s sweet science of martial combat.
A smirking Maria approaches the seated and mewling Kylie, Sanders holding her open hands forward, silently pleading for mercy. She begs off, ‘washing windows’ courtesy her twisting palms.
“That’s the pathetic Girl Scout I remember growing up,” Maria says. “Watching bootleg DVDs as a kid in Rio as you got your ass kicked time after time.”
Alves dips to collect the Platinum Pixie by her noggin when Sanders sinks both sets of fingers into the judoka’s tunic. The blonde YANKS Maria forward, Alves’ face BANGING off the middle buckle, her braincase snapping back from the rugged collision.
As the tawny brunette bounces back up to vertical and staggers away, Ky uses the corner to struggle to her feet.
“Don’t remember that one, do ya? Or maybe this.”
Sanders surges toward the turned Alves and dives into a nasty shot to the pit of Maria’s knee.
The King drops to the canvas from the clip, yipping in pain as she ends on her back, rocking from side to side, cradling her leg tight, hoping she hasn’t heard any tendons rip from her knee cap.
Sanders pulls Alves to a seated position and, on one knee behind the champ, wraps her arms around the brunette’s head in a sleeper hold, making sure her arms press tight to Maria’s temple and carotid.
“Now you can dream about how things used to be,” Kylie whispers in the judoka’s ear. “Instead of when you hijacked a championship but lost it to a 40-year-old Girl Scout.”
The PVP rattles Maria’s noggin within her custody, the titleholder’s dark eyes growing glassy as the blood flow to her brain is restricted by the Platinum Pixie’s grip.
A burst of movement from Alves puts control back in her hands, as the seated Maria pivots and scoots to the side, not only slipping free of Kylie’s grasp, but twisting to a kneeling position while grabbing a wrist of Ky’s on the way by. The grimacing champ ignores her throbbing leg as best she can and ends with a tight hammerlock, quickly ratcheting the arm high between the Iowan’s shoulderblades.
Both women move to their feet at Maria’s urging, the King’s bare to Kylie’s in boots.
“I’m an artist as well as a King,” Maria informs Sanders, Alves tight to the blonde’s back at her six. “You’re a hack who tries SO hard.”
Kylie shows her skills, however. Dipping her head and twisting out of the lock, ending with a sidesaddle grip of the brunette’s skull. With a limping champ in tow, Ky races to the ropes in front of her, leaping to the top cable, supported by her grip on Maria.
Ky’s soles land against the uppermost strand, Sanders’ legs folding then pistoning outward, pushing away from the ropes and spinning both grapplers in a tight u-turn. Sanders’ sit-out to the mat is a little rough on Kylie’s tailbone but nothing like the thumping impact of head to canvas caused by the Pixie’s springboard bulldog.
Springboard Bulldog ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gp4GBmGknas )
Sanders spins to the side of the splattered martial artist, shoving a dazed Maria to her back and climbing on board with a crossbody pin, hooking the far leg to make sure of the…
ONE…
TWO…
The Brazilian shows her mettle, heaving a shoulder up and drawing a moan from the overwhelming pro-Sanders majority. Kylie spins to Castle, looking hopeful. Her head drops chin to chest when she sees two raised fingers.
But quickly the Platinum Pixie is mounting Maria, the champ on her chest and pinned there by a straddling, backward-facing challenger, Ky atop Maria’s squirming waistline. The Hawkeye raises a clenched set of talons high. The booming response is immediate.
“FARM…HAND!”
Kylie DIGS the digits into her foe’s left leg at the curved juncture of gluteus and thigh. Kylie’s infamous hammy clamp in place, Maria’s lower limb starts to quake as the nerve bundle in her thigh is squeezed to the point of paralysis.
Alves tries to scuttle from under Ky’s staddle, her ‘good’ leg fruitlessly pushing against the canvas, the judoka searching for an escape route as Sanders works over Maria’s leg like a part-time job. The King claws at the mat in front of her then at her long dark locks as Castle asks if she wants to surrender.
“I rule the world,” Alves grunts. “And I’m giving it up this laborer?”
The words don’t slow Kylie’s ‘chewing’ fingers, the Platinum Pixie excavating into the thigh muscles of the wincing, whimpering King.
Pain sparks from the compressed nerves, Kylie’s magic touch finding the soft spot. The blonde can feel a quiver run through Alves but when Sanders demands Maria quit, Alves turns a stifled cry into a pained chuckle. A frustrated Pixie dismounts, adding a slap to the five pink indentations in the judoka’s hamstring.
Kylie pushes to her feet, rolling Alves to her back with a shoveling boot to a shoulder. Maria tries to move toward vertical, but her left leg isn’t in functioning condition. All she can manage is to push up on her palms and butt-scoot the ‘dead’ limb with her toward the ropes.
Before she can reach them safety, Kylie snatches her foe’s left ankle and uses the leg as a handle to pull the champ back to center stage, where Sanders goes to town, punting the raised thigh a half-dozen times, the Hawkeye seemingly determined to leave the King on one wheel.
The Platinum Pixie steps around the leg, surrounding it in a scissors as she moves toward a figure-four. But Alves still has one working stem. She plants the sole of her right foot into where the good lord split Ky’s backside. Maria thrusts the sinewy, golden-brown leg and sends Kylie lurching forward, the veteran unable to contain her momentum, her flawless features CRASHING against the top buckle, the Pixie’s noggin snapping in whiplash fashion.
Sanders stumbles in a backpedal from her impact with the corner and trips over the splayed Maria, her frame crashing atop that of the judoka. Instantly, one of Maria’s arms wraps tightly around the blonde’s throat while the other secures an arm of the suddenly vulnerable Sanders, Maria receiving a gifted submission hold that promptly changes the outlook of the contest, unpredictably placing the Platinum Pixie at defeat’s door.
King’s Crossing ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=J3fe4amXBmI )
Sanders flails in desperation, arms waggling as Ky tries to escape. It seems in vain but with Maria’s left leg still balky, the champ can’t fully close her scissors around the Pixie’s pelvis. With Kylie’s lower half becoming more unruly, the judoka gives up her submission grip above and pounds forearm blasts into Sanders’ skull from the right side.
With Kylie quelled, the King slips out from under her lightweight subject and pushes to her feet, hovering over the mewling Sanders, adjusting her tunic and her bottoms before approaching Kylie as the Pleasant Valley Princess reaches a knee.
Maria tugs the spent veteran up the rest of the way but keeps Ky bent at the waist, the better to tug her lowered head between the golden-skinned thighs of the judoka. Alves clamps the legs in a loose scissors while wrapping her arms around the midriff of the woman who holds the record for most FAWN wins AND losses.
The martial artists shows her strength, heaving Kylie upward in a forward flip. Alves doesn’t halt at powerbomb position however, choosing to continue Sanders’ trip with the follow-through. Kylie finishes flapjacked onto her face and chest in a brutal collision.
Flapjack Facebuster ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=hAqWqxgaRhY )
Face down and unmoving, save for an occasional spastic twitch, Kylie looks dead to the world and the King seems content in rising at her leisure, sure the challenger is now hers.
Maria strides to the comatose Kylie and shoves her over with a bare foot before placing her sole and toes on the cleft of Ky’s bosom, lifting a double bicep pose for the money shot and the win at…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
The Hawkeye throws a shoulder off the canvas, if weakly. It’s enough for Castle to see light between it and the mat and hop to his feet with only two fingers raised.
An exasperated King rises, pulling the nearly deadweight of Kylie up with her.
“I was thinking of making you Professor Emeritus of my ‘Take a Shit-kicking’ Science Division,” she says, scowling. “But you’re clearly overqualified. You need a government post.”
Alves slips behind the wobbling blonde, hooking both of her foe’s arms, presumably to send Sanders onto her head and shoulders with a Tiger Suplex.
Tiger Suplex ( www.youtube.com/watch?app=desktop&v=9jN9wU7UXPM%C2%A0 )
But before the Brazilian can launch, a desperate Kylie shoots her braincase backward, the back of her skull thumping against the bridge of Maria’s beak.
A teary-eyed Alves releases her grip, turns and checks on her proboscis, cursing under her breath about FAWN royalty being treated so rudely.
Blinking some tears from her vision, Maria turns to re-acquire the FAWN original and is gutted by a toe kick from the Iowan, Sanders delving her boot into Alves taut tummy. With the judoka’s head lowered, Kylie latches onto Maria’s dark locks and drops to her derriere, DRIVING the King’s features into the deck with a Sit-out Facebuuster.
Sit-out facebuster ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=sll-3Pm7RqM )
Kylie pulls the splattered Brazilian toward her, pushing Maria to her back and rolling to a back press pin, hooking the far leg as she lounges.
Castle drops to the canvas and slaps out the title change at…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
Alves shows her survival instincts are honed, kicking loose of the pinfall attempt, ending on a hip and shoulder, eyelids clamping shut then popping open, Maria trying to find her royal senses.
So close to a twilight run with the lightweight title, Sanders slaps the canvas in frustration at coming up a split-second short. Realizing the King needs more preparation for the royal finale, Ky hauls the spent judoka to her bare feet as she rises, but Maria drives a raised knee into the Hawkeye’s navel, doubling a gasping Kylie at the waist.
Alves stuffs the lowered head of the Platinum Pixie between her legs and wraps her arms around the blonde’s gulping midriff. But the after-effects of her previous visit to the canvas slow whatever the King has in mind and Kylie reverses. Sanders vaults Maria into the air instead, Ky lifting the champ until Alves drapes down her back, Kylie’s arms encircling Maria’s tawny stems.
AND DOWN!
Ky sends Alves to the canvas HARD with a version of her Iowa Waterwheel Slam.
Iowa Waterwheel ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=SevF_nbT4Lo ) :23
Sanders sits out with her cargo, the splayed Maria between her alabaster pins, a grip still tight around each of the Brazilian’s legs, Alves down for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
The King’s reign continues as Maria kicks loose and rolls to her chest.
Determined not to waste time this time, Kylie scrambles atop her flattened foe, moving to a forward-facing, crouching straddle of the titleholder. She slips her arms under and around those of the shellshocked judoka, securing a full nelson by lacing her fingers, then PULLLING back on Maria’s head and upper torso.
Her edition of the Camel Clutch in place, the FAWN original YANKS for all she’s worth, seemingly trying to snap the supple backbone of the martial artist.
Maria bites her lower lip to stifle the sounds of her struggles until Kylie has the champ staring at the lights above, so arched is Maria’s spine.
Full Nelson Camel Clutch ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=cdcKWP83Rho )
“Quit!” is the simple mandate from Sanders. Castle expounds on the challenger’s demand while in the vision of the yelping Alves.
“Say the word and I’ll end it,” he offers.
Maria screams out a loud refusal and, after a few further seconds of torture, Kylie relents, throwing Alves’ head to the deck, the judoka’s features bouncing off the canvas.
Realizing there’s only one perfect way to end Maria’s sovereignty, Ky grabs a wrist and shoulder and tugs the rubbery Alves to her feet for one last ride.
Sanders ‘hups’ the lethargic martial artist across her shoulders in a fireman’s carry, the crowd growing excited in anticipation for the Pleasant Valley Driver and the return of the 40-year-old ‘Girl Scout’ to championship glory.
Ky steadies for a split-second to lay out to her left and dispatch the King.
Pleasant Valley Driver ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=96YGwFdN9K8 ) :14
But with Maria held tight across Kylie’s shoulders, the judoka starts BANGING elbows into the side of Sanders’ noggin in a fight for her match life. The results of the war show themselves when Ky can’t finish, Alves dropping behind the pummeled Hawkeye.
At Sanders’ six, Maria instantly captures each of Kylie’s arms, hooking around her elbows and from there it’s with practiced precision the King lifts her subject off the canvas and deposits the Platinum Pixie to the back of her head and neck, a nasty impact with the unforgiving mat.
Tiger Suplex ( www.youtube.com/watch?app=desktop&v=9jN9wU7UXPM%C2%A0 )
Maria retains her possession of the challenger’s arms, bridging as she pins a stacked Sanders on her shoulders, infringing on Ky’s old ‘Over and Done’ trademark for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOO!
Kylie manages to slip out of the precarious position, flopping to her side but able to manage little else, knocked for a loop by a potentially concussive landing.
The martial artist scrambles to a reverse-facing mount of the blonde, Alves taking a seat on the base of Ky’s spine, Sanders’ chest flat to the mat. The champ positions a foot between Kylie’s ivory-skinned stems and rises, locking her foe’s folded, crossed legs behind her lower limb.
As the FAWNatics scream for a dazed Kylie to escape, Maria pulls the Pixie up slightly then lays out, increasing the pressure on the Iowan’s legs exponentially.
Alves repeats the process again and again, Kylie shrieking in anguish from Maria’s Indian Deathlock
Indian Deathlock ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=hTIgMTVCKTw )
The inventive warrior-king adds to the torture, returning to her seat and capturing the arms of the Pixie. She wraps around each at the elbow, straightening the limbs within her locked grasp. Maria leans back to increase the agony on a sobbing Kylie until, after a half-dozen seconds, and unable to tap, Ky screams out her surrender, pleading with the King for release.
Emancipation only comes after Castle motions to the timekeeper this challenge is a failure, the bell tolls, and the announcer makes it official.
“Your winner and STILL lightweight champion…THE KING…MARIA ALVES!”
Alves unlocks her fingers and lets a howling Kylie’s arms fall to her side. Unlocking the leggy knot below takes a second or two, but the champ manages.
The judoka remains seated atop the mewling Sanders for long seconds, pleased with her position as King and atop an icon, if not the most successful one.
“Perhaps now you can return to slop the corn and plant the hogs,” Alves pronounces before rising to her feet and thumping a bare foot into the base of Kylie’s backbone, forcing a yelp and arched anguish from the defeated.
Maria turns to the hard cam, presenting a fightin’ judoka pose when a familiar rumble moves throughout the arena. Van Halen’s ‘Beautiful Girls’ blares through the speakers, the crowd buzzing as FAWN’s resident Brat and legend killer strides down the aisle in her blue, two-piece battle gear, microphone in hand.
“Big fuckin’ deal,” Kat Braddock shouts as she approaches. “You’re not coming in here, beating a pushover, and taking another world tour with that hardware.”
Having been delivered the lightweight title belt by Castle, Maria raises it high, as if she damn well will.
“No, no, no, your majesty,” the Cali Quake declares. “I made sure you’d be here for Mania right after I plucked the wings off the imaginary Angel earlier tonight. Red’s gone from FAWN and you are definitely not…yet.”
Braddock ascends the steps and enters, the Brat chest-bumping the judoka, blonde and brunette facing off over the softly stirring wreckage of Kylie.
“I’ve already, let’s say, creatively acquired your passport from your locker and signed a contract with Bethany to take that from you at FAWNAMANIA.”
Braddock slaps the faceplate of the prize.
“So enjoy the rest of the night with your doormat and the next couple of months with the gold because it’ll be around this waist soon enough.”
From outta nowhere, Kat takes a clothesline swipe to punctuate her statement, but Maria ducks under, wrapping her right arm across Braddock’s chest after the miss.
Dipping, she tosses Kat up and over with a Uranage, The Brat landing on her head and shoulders before spreading into a wincing heap, cradling the back of her skull with an arm, both blondes now at the King’s feet.
Uranage ( www.youtube.com/watch?app=desktop&v=4s_dYqMDIkw%C2%A0 ) :10
Alves plucks the discarded microphone off the canvas and raises it to her lips as she launches the belt higher with her opposite hand.
“We are amused. So let it be written. So let it be done.”
A different statement made than the one The Brat had planned, Maria heads for the exit.
Perhaps visiting Orlando occasionally wasn’t so bad after all.
Having survived an unexpected three-way for the #1 contendership position for the Lightweight title at Summer Swelter, Kylie Sanders has the ‘small girl’ belt in her sights, hoping to dethrone the world-travelling King and perhaps burnish her illustrious career with a final run with FAWN gold.
As the glorious, melodious return of Sixpence None The Richer’s ‘There She Goes’ sweeps through the arena, the closest thing the organization will get to Girl Scout Part Deux bounces on the balls of her feet from side to side backstage.
( www.youtube.com/watch?v=tMfXeuv4kZE )
On the other side of the curtain, the masses let loose with a huge cheer, the Corps feeling the return of their girl with the return of her iconic accompaniment. Ky gulps hard and pushes through. Moving to center stage, she seems slightly embarrassed by the roar, the sight of a humble Sanders bringing more collective love in the direction of the silvery-bobbed, elfin beauty.
KYLIE SANDERS
Continuing to draw on echoes of her original gear, Sanders sports a simple yellow-gold sports bra topside with black boy-cut shorts, black boots and pads. As she heads down the ramp, Kylie cups a hand to an ear, enjoying the chants of ‘KY-LEE’ much more than the scattered attempts of a few remaining haters to continue with ‘TROLL…TROLL…TROLL”
( www.yandy.com/products/lets-mesh-around-bra-set )
A beaming Sanders walks the aisle, happy to slap hands with her forgiving fans, gazing with delight at a poster proclaiming the Platinum Pixie as their Platinum Princess and next Lightweight Champion.
Sanders reaches the ring and takes a moment to gaze around the arena in amazement at full circle in the display of affection from the fans. She waves before slipping through the cables.
Moving to the middle, Ky applauds the sellout crowd before raising a microphone to her Cupid’s Arrow lips.
“Thank you so much.”
The Hawkeye waits for the din to die down.
“I’ll offer no guarantee to end the King’s reign and keep defenses of my favorite title here in FAWN Arena.”
The crowd cheers loudly, Kylie smirking guiltily about the cheap pop.
“But what I will do is make sure Maria knows she’s been in the fight of her life.”
Sanders hands the stick over to the ring announcer and recedes to her assigned corner to let lead ref Nick Castle check her for foreign objects. The official concludes as the announcer makes his introduction.
“Our next match is scheduled for one fall with a time limit of 45 minutes and is for the FAWN Lightweight championship. From Pleasant Valley, Iowa, standing 5 feet 4 inches and weighing in at 115 pounds, the Platinum Pixie…KYLIE SANDERS!”
The house erupts save for pockets of continued resistance or disbelief. Again, Kylie waves enthusiastically, nervously bouncing and stretching, impatient for a singles test that could end with a glorious return to gold in the twilight of her wrestling run.
’Paper Planes’ by M.I.A. heralds the entrance of King Maria Alves, judoka extraordinaire and FAWN’s first regal Lightweight Champion.
( www.youtube.com/watch?v=ewRjZoRtu0Y )
Maria steps through the curtains at the top of the entrance ramp dressed in a white gi and black belt, albeit much more form fitting than regulation typically allowed.
MARIA ALVES
Unlike her standard judo-wear, Alves continues to go without pants for her professional wrestling matches at the behest of the marketing and wardrobe departments, bare below the hips save for a pair of black bikini bottoms to preserve her modesty.
A gilded scepter in her hand and a diamond encrusted coronet atop her head reminds her audience of Maria’s royal status. The Lightweight title strap lays across her left shoulder, the judoka electing not to wear it around her waist so not to obscure the other belt serving as a testament to her prodigious skills.
Thrilled to have Alves and the belt she possesses back in the building, the throng provides the King a majestic welcome only overshadowed when the royal introduction is made.
“ON HER WAY TO THE RING… AT FIVE FOOT FOUR AND ONE HUNDRED SIXTEEN POUNDS… SHE IS YOUR LIGHTWEIGHT CHAMPION… YOUR HIGHNESS… KING MARIAAAA AAAAAALLLVVEESSSSSS!”
Accompanying the King are a quartet of towering Amazons dressed in the manner of Roman legionnaires -- each armored in a bronze-plated cuirass, pleated skirt, leatherbound sandals, and knee-high greaves while carrying a spear in one hand and a shield in the other. The members of the kings’ guard flank their master on four corners as she calmly pads down the entrance ramp on her bare feet, occasionally bobbing her head to the beat of her music. Maria and her entourage enter and claim the center of the squared circle, shooing Sanders out of the ring.
With the size and number of ‘eunuchs’, Ky decides to accede to the demand, leaving the ring to the champion.
One of the King’s loyal ‘eunuchs’ produces a microphone and hands it to her.
“Greetings and salutations, humble peasants, and rejoice, for you are graced by my regal presence! Huzzah!”
Maria speaks to a mostly silent arena, the FAWNatics now recalling the surreal atmosphere the King’s presence afforded. The stoic reception doesn’t dampen the sovereign’s spirits.
A second eunuch presents a scroll and unfurls it for her king to read.
“As king, it is my duty and divine right to conquer and enslave foreign lands and peoples,” Alves says to confused murmurs from the crowd, “This I have done for many months. From lands as far afield as England, the Philippines to the most exotic locales of Iowa and Texas.”
Maria motions Kylie back into the ring.
“Indeed, I put this poor farm laborer to sleep in the biggest hometown show the denizens of her small hamlet have ever attended. The sadness with which they watched as I proved the Pleasant Valley Peasant unworthy, the unconscious farmer left drooling on herself, so memorable.”
Sanders’ face scrunches in anger, Kylie demanding Castle remove the ‘eunuchs’ from the ring so the fight can get underway.
“I can see the welp wishes to delay her execution at the hands of her King no longer. Huzzah.”
Maria hands her scepter, crown, microphone and belt to her loyal King’s guard, one item for each, then bids them exit. She motions for the bell and a confused timekeeper shrugs at Nick. Castle rolls his eyes, knowing this may be a long night, and calls for the match to begin.
Kylie moves to the middle, expecting Maria to do likewise but Alves is in no particular hurry.
“Ask me politely to join you,” the King demands.
Sanders shrugs at Castle. Nick motions maybe the veteran should accede to the royal wishes, but Ky isn’t interested, striding to the champ only to have Maria move to the ropes and dip her head and torso between.
“Back this boorish farmhand away from me,” Alves insists, this time directing her command to the referee.
Nick steps between. “Let her come back in, Kylie.”
“Fine,” Sanders grunts.
The Platinum Pixie takes a few steps back and the King swings her body back in the squared circle.
“Thank you for controlling the rabble,” the Brazilian says, recognizing Castle for his efforts.
The FAWNatics grow restless with the lack of action and slowly a chant builds ‘FIGHT…FIGHT…FIGHT!’, Sanders egging on her Kylie Corps. The King is not amused. She steps through the ropes and drops to the arena floor, striding for the exit.
“I knew there was a reason I’ve been away from this backwater burg. You don’t deserve me.”
But as Maria reaches the base of the ramp, Kylie snatches her from behind by a shoulder and wrist and spins the lightweight titleholder to the ring, rushing her to the apron and tossing her in under the bottom rope. Ky rolls in behind and hops to her feet, reaching Alves as she gets her bare tootsies beneath her.
The FAWN original ROCKS Maria with a European Uppercut, once, twice, thrice, until the King leans into the ropes behind her, shock and pain etched on flawless features. Sanders grabs a wrist and flings the judoka to the opposite cables with an Irish Whip, following the tawny-skinned grappler to the middle. Ky sets for her foe’s return center stage, dipping and pushing on the upper legs of the charging Alves.
Up and over Maria goes, the King sent flipping HIGH into the air before CRASHING to the deck with the back body drop. Maria rises to a seated position, arching in pain, dark eyes flashing surprise. Her peepers grow wider still when Sanders plants a soccer kick to the base of her spine. Maria’s chest thrusts forward in response.
Sanders grabs the King’s battle bun and uses it like a handle to pull the King to her feet.
“You seem to think this is a game,” Kylie snaps at the judoka, spinning Maria to face her and swiveling Alves’ head with a forearm shiver. “I don’t have time for those. I’m taking the belt. You keep the scepter.”
Sanders dips and sends an arm between the legs of Alves. Nimbly, she scoops Maria off the canvas and onto her right shoulder where she pivots and deposits the Brazilian to the deck with a body slam.
With the champ splayed before her, Kylie rushes to the ropes at the judoka’s side. Gaining speed out of the springy cables, she launches upon her return, legs extended for a drop across the throat and chest of the King, but Maria rolls clear, leaving Kylie to spike her tailbone to the canvas when all that’s left is empty mat.
As Ky reaches for her throbbing backside, Maria plops to her derriere behind the Pixie and wraps her sinewy stems around Sanders’ waist. She slips her arms under and around those of the challenger, locking her fingers in a full nelson. Maria shoves Kylie’s face forward, the blonde’s chin forced to her chest, then tightens the vise of the scissors, drawing mewls from Sanders as she struggles in a fight for her freedom.
“It would serve you best,” Alves whispers in Sanders’ ear, “to pay homage to your King since she controls your fate.”
The self-proclaimed royalty releases her scissors and nelson, pops to her feet, and gives Kylie a disdainful pe-face shove to the back of her foe’s head. Sanders scrambles to her feet, fuming.
She surges toward the leader of FAWN’s lightweights only to be grabbed unexpectedly before the women lock up in more traditional fashion. Ky’s sent tumbling to the mat, landing with a heavy thump courtesy a seio-nage.
Seio-nage ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=eWEW9SfI5xg ) 1:49
With Ky’s arm still in her control, Maria folds the limb and drops to the mat to apply a shortarm scissors, Kylie groaning in pain from the quick work of the judo black belt.
Shortarm scissors ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=a4PHQ7lnvZg ) :03
Sanders yanks on her silvery bob to spread the pain from her elbow joint. Kylie knows well the odd nature of the King doesn’t change the fact she’s a master of martial arts and joint manipulation, the main but not only reasons she’s maintained an iron grip on the belt through her world travels.
The veteran shakes her head emphatically when Castle asks if she wants to surrender. Instead, Kylie shifts her frame enough to drop an ankle over the bottom rope. The Iowan yelps for release and the capricious King obliges instantly, Alves pushing to her feet and offering a hand for shaking.
A confused Kylie spins on her butt so she faces the judoka while rising. She shakes out her wounded wing but not while grasping Maria’s proffered palm.
“I forgive you,” Alves assures. “I can only guess what it feels like to be inferior to a woman SO much younger.”
Sanders chuckles, rolling her eyes. “Yeah. OK.” Ky slaps the hand away and the King is or acts as though she’s genuinely hurt by the gesture.
Kylie forces the action, thrusting her ivory-skinned frame forward into a collar-and-elbow, but Maria adroitly spins so the women are shoulder to shoulder, Alves snakes her left leg around Kylie’s right, wrapping an arm behind the neck of the Platinum Pixie and RIPS her foe to the deck with a side Russian Legsweep.
Side Russian Legsweep ( www.youtube.com/watch?app=desktop&v=sYknjY1T7CQ%C2%A0 )
Maria reaches across the flattened physique of the Pleasant Valley Princess, Kylie cradling the back of her braincase, Alves hooking her adversary’s far leg for the…
ONE…
TWO…
Ky kicks free, rolling to her side to keep her gilded dreams alive. But smoothly and with a certainty of purpose, Maria again ends in a seat at the head of the Hawkeye. She grabs both wrists of the challenger and pulls Kylie to a seat. While maintaining her handles, she lifts her legs, folding them and locking them at the ankles behind Kylie’s neck.
Lotus Lock ( www.youtube.com/watch?app=desktop&v=S6RDDVobul8%C2%A0 )
Her next torturous grip secure, Maria tries to remove Kylie’s arms from their sockets while simultaneously wrenching the neck of the Pixie. A silenced Corps watches in futility as the King works over her subject and their leader with impunity.
Sanders writhes within her confinement but refuses to submit when given the chance under the watchful eye of FAWN’s lead referee.
Convinced the Platinum Peasant isn’t yet appropriately subservient, Maria unlocks her ankles and CRASHES a heel into the back of Sanders’ skull a half dozen times before emancipating the farmer girl. She releases the blonde’s wrists and kick/shoves her away, remaining on the ground as Ky fights to all fours, the grappler with FAWN’s most seniority looking her age against the supple, erudite judoka.
“I don’t need to put you to sleep like in PV,” Maria mentions, sitting Indian style as a pained Sanders reaches one knee and rolls her neck muscles while shaking out her unloaded guns.
“That was a necessary show for your peeps in your hometown. Those that really love you. Not all the fakes here in your so-called Corps.”
Sanders pushes up the rest of the way, huffing, knowing the King’s gambit but feeling the bile reach the back of her throat all the same.
Kylie surges toward the champ but ducks under a collar-and-elbow, instead swinging around Alves and capturing Maria in a waistlock from behind. Tightening the embrace for a moment, Sanders then spins out of the grapple before a counter can come, latching onto a wrist to heave the Brazilian for a trip to the far ropes.
But the judoka keeps a return grip tight and reverses, dipping and tugging Kylie to her shoulders, the blonde’s upper body draped down her foe’s back, Maria’s arms locking behind the knees of the Iowan. Sanders squirms, trying to find a way out of the predicament, but there’s only one, the ring-rattling Alabama Slam the King delivers to her increasingly dilapidated subject.
Alabama Slam ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=OFUQH1fT1aU&t=26s ) 1:05
Maria stares down at the splayed Sanders. She plucks both ankles off the canvas and folds Kylie in a jackknife pin, Ky’s legs framing her pained visage with Maria sitting on Kylie’s upturned ass while pressing her palms down on the FAWN original’s boot heels for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
Sanders kicks her legs, unfolding from beneath the judoka enough to flop to her side and get a shoulder off the canvas, keeping hope alive for Kylie’s Corps. The blonde rolls the rest of the way to her chest, when Maria latches onto Kylie’s left ankle. Alves lifts the leg high, keeping her arms wrapped tightly.
As a grimacing Sanders reaches for the nearby ropes, the King backpedals her challenger to the middle and drops to the canvas, grapevining a scissors around the possessed limb, making for an extra level ankle lock.
Grapevined Ankle Lock ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=n4poYwhtBgw&t=13s ) :27
Kylie yelps in agony, writhing to free herself from the world traveling titlist. The Pixie’s left arm raises reflexively, hovering over the canvas, as Ky buries her head into the mat, wailing and looking like she might tap away the title opportunity.
With the Platinum Pixie holding on, Maria transitions to a half-Crab, continuing to torture the captured stem of the silvery-bobbed grappler. Alves leeeans back, trying to curl Ky’s body into a cruel ‘C’. Still, the renowned stubbornness of the Iowan remains.
Frustration grows within the King as her subject fails to show the proper respect. Maria makes a half-turn, rising out of her crouch, and lifts the limb high, then SLAMS the Hawkeye’s knee into the thinly-sheathed plywood.
Sanders howls in anguish, cradling her injured limb close as she slides on the opposite hip to a corner, the veteran showing an inability to compete with the Brazilian’s sweet science of martial combat.
A smirking Maria approaches the seated and mewling Kylie, Sanders holding her open hands forward, silently pleading for mercy. She begs off, ‘washing windows’ courtesy her twisting palms.
“That’s the pathetic Girl Scout I remember growing up,” Maria says. “Watching bootleg DVDs as a kid in Rio as you got your ass kicked time after time.”
Alves dips to collect the Platinum Pixie by her noggin when Sanders sinks both sets of fingers into the judoka’s tunic. The blonde YANKS Maria forward, Alves’ face BANGING off the middle buckle, her braincase snapping back from the rugged collision.
As the tawny brunette bounces back up to vertical and staggers away, Ky uses the corner to struggle to her feet.
“Don’t remember that one, do ya? Or maybe this.”
Sanders surges toward the turned Alves and dives into a nasty shot to the pit of Maria’s knee.
The King drops to the canvas from the clip, yipping in pain as she ends on her back, rocking from side to side, cradling her leg tight, hoping she hasn’t heard any tendons rip from her knee cap.
Sanders pulls Alves to a seated position and, on one knee behind the champ, wraps her arms around the brunette’s head in a sleeper hold, making sure her arms press tight to Maria’s temple and carotid.
“Now you can dream about how things used to be,” Kylie whispers in the judoka’s ear. “Instead of when you hijacked a championship but lost it to a 40-year-old Girl Scout.”
The PVP rattles Maria’s noggin within her custody, the titleholder’s dark eyes growing glassy as the blood flow to her brain is restricted by the Platinum Pixie’s grip.
A burst of movement from Alves puts control back in her hands, as the seated Maria pivots and scoots to the side, not only slipping free of Kylie’s grasp, but twisting to a kneeling position while grabbing a wrist of Ky’s on the way by. The grimacing champ ignores her throbbing leg as best she can and ends with a tight hammerlock, quickly ratcheting the arm high between the Iowan’s shoulderblades.
Both women move to their feet at Maria’s urging, the King’s bare to Kylie’s in boots.
“I’m an artist as well as a King,” Maria informs Sanders, Alves tight to the blonde’s back at her six. “You’re a hack who tries SO hard.”
Kylie shows her skills, however. Dipping her head and twisting out of the lock, ending with a sidesaddle grip of the brunette’s skull. With a limping champ in tow, Ky races to the ropes in front of her, leaping to the top cable, supported by her grip on Maria.
Ky’s soles land against the uppermost strand, Sanders’ legs folding then pistoning outward, pushing away from the ropes and spinning both grapplers in a tight u-turn. Sanders’ sit-out to the mat is a little rough on Kylie’s tailbone but nothing like the thumping impact of head to canvas caused by the Pixie’s springboard bulldog.
Springboard Bulldog ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gp4GBmGknas )
Sanders spins to the side of the splattered martial artist, shoving a dazed Maria to her back and climbing on board with a crossbody pin, hooking the far leg to make sure of the…
ONE…
TWO…
The Brazilian shows her mettle, heaving a shoulder up and drawing a moan from the overwhelming pro-Sanders majority. Kylie spins to Castle, looking hopeful. Her head drops chin to chest when she sees two raised fingers.
But quickly the Platinum Pixie is mounting Maria, the champ on her chest and pinned there by a straddling, backward-facing challenger, Ky atop Maria’s squirming waistline. The Hawkeye raises a clenched set of talons high. The booming response is immediate.
“FARM…HAND!”
Kylie DIGS the digits into her foe’s left leg at the curved juncture of gluteus and thigh. Kylie’s infamous hammy clamp in place, Maria’s lower limb starts to quake as the nerve bundle in her thigh is squeezed to the point of paralysis.
Alves tries to scuttle from under Ky’s staddle, her ‘good’ leg fruitlessly pushing against the canvas, the judoka searching for an escape route as Sanders works over Maria’s leg like a part-time job. The King claws at the mat in front of her then at her long dark locks as Castle asks if she wants to surrender.
“I rule the world,” Alves grunts. “And I’m giving it up this laborer?”
The words don’t slow Kylie’s ‘chewing’ fingers, the Platinum Pixie excavating into the thigh muscles of the wincing, whimpering King.
Pain sparks from the compressed nerves, Kylie’s magic touch finding the soft spot. The blonde can feel a quiver run through Alves but when Sanders demands Maria quit, Alves turns a stifled cry into a pained chuckle. A frustrated Pixie dismounts, adding a slap to the five pink indentations in the judoka’s hamstring.
Kylie pushes to her feet, rolling Alves to her back with a shoveling boot to a shoulder. Maria tries to move toward vertical, but her left leg isn’t in functioning condition. All she can manage is to push up on her palms and butt-scoot the ‘dead’ limb with her toward the ropes.
Before she can reach them safety, Kylie snatches her foe’s left ankle and uses the leg as a handle to pull the champ back to center stage, where Sanders goes to town, punting the raised thigh a half-dozen times, the Hawkeye seemingly determined to leave the King on one wheel.
The Platinum Pixie steps around the leg, surrounding it in a scissors as she moves toward a figure-four. But Alves still has one working stem. She plants the sole of her right foot into where the good lord split Ky’s backside. Maria thrusts the sinewy, golden-brown leg and sends Kylie lurching forward, the veteran unable to contain her momentum, her flawless features CRASHING against the top buckle, the Pixie’s noggin snapping in whiplash fashion.
Sanders stumbles in a backpedal from her impact with the corner and trips over the splayed Maria, her frame crashing atop that of the judoka. Instantly, one of Maria’s arms wraps tightly around the blonde’s throat while the other secures an arm of the suddenly vulnerable Sanders, Maria receiving a gifted submission hold that promptly changes the outlook of the contest, unpredictably placing the Platinum Pixie at defeat’s door.
King’s Crossing ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=J3fe4amXBmI )
Sanders flails in desperation, arms waggling as Ky tries to escape. It seems in vain but with Maria’s left leg still balky, the champ can’t fully close her scissors around the Pixie’s pelvis. With Kylie’s lower half becoming more unruly, the judoka gives up her submission grip above and pounds forearm blasts into Sanders’ skull from the right side.
With Kylie quelled, the King slips out from under her lightweight subject and pushes to her feet, hovering over the mewling Sanders, adjusting her tunic and her bottoms before approaching Kylie as the Pleasant Valley Princess reaches a knee.
Maria tugs the spent veteran up the rest of the way but keeps Ky bent at the waist, the better to tug her lowered head between the golden-skinned thighs of the judoka. Alves clamps the legs in a loose scissors while wrapping her arms around the midriff of the woman who holds the record for most FAWN wins AND losses.
The martial artists shows her strength, heaving Kylie upward in a forward flip. Alves doesn’t halt at powerbomb position however, choosing to continue Sanders’ trip with the follow-through. Kylie finishes flapjacked onto her face and chest in a brutal collision.
Flapjack Facebuster ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=hAqWqxgaRhY )
Face down and unmoving, save for an occasional spastic twitch, Kylie looks dead to the world and the King seems content in rising at her leisure, sure the challenger is now hers.
Maria strides to the comatose Kylie and shoves her over with a bare foot before placing her sole and toes on the cleft of Ky’s bosom, lifting a double bicep pose for the money shot and the win at…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
The Hawkeye throws a shoulder off the canvas, if weakly. It’s enough for Castle to see light between it and the mat and hop to his feet with only two fingers raised.
An exasperated King rises, pulling the nearly deadweight of Kylie up with her.
“I was thinking of making you Professor Emeritus of my ‘Take a Shit-kicking’ Science Division,” she says, scowling. “But you’re clearly overqualified. You need a government post.”
Alves slips behind the wobbling blonde, hooking both of her foe’s arms, presumably to send Sanders onto her head and shoulders with a Tiger Suplex.
Tiger Suplex ( www.youtube.com/watch?app=desktop&v=9jN9wU7UXPM%C2%A0 )
But before the Brazilian can launch, a desperate Kylie shoots her braincase backward, the back of her skull thumping against the bridge of Maria’s beak.
A teary-eyed Alves releases her grip, turns and checks on her proboscis, cursing under her breath about FAWN royalty being treated so rudely.
Blinking some tears from her vision, Maria turns to re-acquire the FAWN original and is gutted by a toe kick from the Iowan, Sanders delving her boot into Alves taut tummy. With the judoka’s head lowered, Kylie latches onto Maria’s dark locks and drops to her derriere, DRIVING the King’s features into the deck with a Sit-out Facebuuster.
Sit-out facebuster ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=sll-3Pm7RqM )
Kylie pulls the splattered Brazilian toward her, pushing Maria to her back and rolling to a back press pin, hooking the far leg as she lounges.
Castle drops to the canvas and slaps out the title change at…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
Alves shows her survival instincts are honed, kicking loose of the pinfall attempt, ending on a hip and shoulder, eyelids clamping shut then popping open, Maria trying to find her royal senses.
So close to a twilight run with the lightweight title, Sanders slaps the canvas in frustration at coming up a split-second short. Realizing the King needs more preparation for the royal finale, Ky hauls the spent judoka to her bare feet as she rises, but Maria drives a raised knee into the Hawkeye’s navel, doubling a gasping Kylie at the waist.
Alves stuffs the lowered head of the Platinum Pixie between her legs and wraps her arms around the blonde’s gulping midriff. But the after-effects of her previous visit to the canvas slow whatever the King has in mind and Kylie reverses. Sanders vaults Maria into the air instead, Ky lifting the champ until Alves drapes down her back, Kylie’s arms encircling Maria’s tawny stems.
AND DOWN!
Ky sends Alves to the canvas HARD with a version of her Iowa Waterwheel Slam.
Iowa Waterwheel ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=SevF_nbT4Lo ) :23
Sanders sits out with her cargo, the splayed Maria between her alabaster pins, a grip still tight around each of the Brazilian’s legs, Alves down for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
The King’s reign continues as Maria kicks loose and rolls to her chest.
Determined not to waste time this time, Kylie scrambles atop her flattened foe, moving to a forward-facing, crouching straddle of the titleholder. She slips her arms under and around those of the shellshocked judoka, securing a full nelson by lacing her fingers, then PULLLING back on Maria’s head and upper torso.
Her edition of the Camel Clutch in place, the FAWN original YANKS for all she’s worth, seemingly trying to snap the supple backbone of the martial artist.
Maria bites her lower lip to stifle the sounds of her struggles until Kylie has the champ staring at the lights above, so arched is Maria’s spine.
Full Nelson Camel Clutch ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=cdcKWP83Rho )
“Quit!” is the simple mandate from Sanders. Castle expounds on the challenger’s demand while in the vision of the yelping Alves.
“Say the word and I’ll end it,” he offers.
Maria screams out a loud refusal and, after a few further seconds of torture, Kylie relents, throwing Alves’ head to the deck, the judoka’s features bouncing off the canvas.
Realizing there’s only one perfect way to end Maria’s sovereignty, Ky grabs a wrist and shoulder and tugs the rubbery Alves to her feet for one last ride.
Sanders ‘hups’ the lethargic martial artist across her shoulders in a fireman’s carry, the crowd growing excited in anticipation for the Pleasant Valley Driver and the return of the 40-year-old ‘Girl Scout’ to championship glory.
Ky steadies for a split-second to lay out to her left and dispatch the King.
Pleasant Valley Driver ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=96YGwFdN9K8 ) :14
But with Maria held tight across Kylie’s shoulders, the judoka starts BANGING elbows into the side of Sanders’ noggin in a fight for her match life. The results of the war show themselves when Ky can’t finish, Alves dropping behind the pummeled Hawkeye.
At Sanders’ six, Maria instantly captures each of Kylie’s arms, hooking around her elbows and from there it’s with practiced precision the King lifts her subject off the canvas and deposits the Platinum Pixie to the back of her head and neck, a nasty impact with the unforgiving mat.
Tiger Suplex ( www.youtube.com/watch?app=desktop&v=9jN9wU7UXPM%C2%A0 )
Maria retains her possession of the challenger’s arms, bridging as she pins a stacked Sanders on her shoulders, infringing on Ky’s old ‘Over and Done’ trademark for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOO!
Kylie manages to slip out of the precarious position, flopping to her side but able to manage little else, knocked for a loop by a potentially concussive landing.
The martial artist scrambles to a reverse-facing mount of the blonde, Alves taking a seat on the base of Ky’s spine, Sanders’ chest flat to the mat. The champ positions a foot between Kylie’s ivory-skinned stems and rises, locking her foe’s folded, crossed legs behind her lower limb.
As the FAWNatics scream for a dazed Kylie to escape, Maria pulls the Pixie up slightly then lays out, increasing the pressure on the Iowan’s legs exponentially.
Alves repeats the process again and again, Kylie shrieking in anguish from Maria’s Indian Deathlock
Indian Deathlock ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=hTIgMTVCKTw )
The inventive warrior-king adds to the torture, returning to her seat and capturing the arms of the Pixie. She wraps around each at the elbow, straightening the limbs within her locked grasp. Maria leans back to increase the agony on a sobbing Kylie until, after a half-dozen seconds, and unable to tap, Ky screams out her surrender, pleading with the King for release.
Emancipation only comes after Castle motions to the timekeeper this challenge is a failure, the bell tolls, and the announcer makes it official.
“Your winner and STILL lightweight champion…THE KING…MARIA ALVES!”
Alves unlocks her fingers and lets a howling Kylie’s arms fall to her side. Unlocking the leggy knot below takes a second or two, but the champ manages.
The judoka remains seated atop the mewling Sanders for long seconds, pleased with her position as King and atop an icon, if not the most successful one.
“Perhaps now you can return to slop the corn and plant the hogs,” Alves pronounces before rising to her feet and thumping a bare foot into the base of Kylie’s backbone, forcing a yelp and arched anguish from the defeated.
Maria turns to the hard cam, presenting a fightin’ judoka pose when a familiar rumble moves throughout the arena. Van Halen’s ‘Beautiful Girls’ blares through the speakers, the crowd buzzing as FAWN’s resident Brat and legend killer strides down the aisle in her blue, two-piece battle gear, microphone in hand.
“Big fuckin’ deal,” Kat Braddock shouts as she approaches. “You’re not coming in here, beating a pushover, and taking another world tour with that hardware.”
Having been delivered the lightweight title belt by Castle, Maria raises it high, as if she damn well will.
“No, no, no, your majesty,” the Cali Quake declares. “I made sure you’d be here for Mania right after I plucked the wings off the imaginary Angel earlier tonight. Red’s gone from FAWN and you are definitely not…yet.”
Braddock ascends the steps and enters, the Brat chest-bumping the judoka, blonde and brunette facing off over the softly stirring wreckage of Kylie.
“I’ve already, let’s say, creatively acquired your passport from your locker and signed a contract with Bethany to take that from you at FAWNAMANIA.”
Braddock slaps the faceplate of the prize.
“So enjoy the rest of the night with your doormat and the next couple of months with the gold because it’ll be around this waist soon enough.”
From outta nowhere, Kat takes a clothesline swipe to punctuate her statement, but Maria ducks under, wrapping her right arm across Braddock’s chest after the miss.
Dipping, she tosses Kat up and over with a Uranage, The Brat landing on her head and shoulders before spreading into a wincing heap, cradling the back of her skull with an arm, both blondes now at the King’s feet.
Uranage ( www.youtube.com/watch?app=desktop&v=4s_dYqMDIkw%C2%A0 ) :10
Alves plucks the discarded microphone off the canvas and raises it to her lips as she launches the belt higher with her opposite hand.
“We are amused. So let it be written. So let it be done.”
A different statement made than the one The Brat had planned, Maria heads for the exit.
Perhaps visiting Orlando occasionally wasn’t so bad after all.