Post by hawkeye on Feb 5, 2024 15:15:57 GMT
In the Gorilla position. The Ultimate Image, future Hall of Famer and twice over former World Champion Lisa Dream, breathes heavily through her lips trying to settle the butterflies in her stomach. She raises her right heel behind her and grabs the toe of her boot to stretch out her quadriceps, “This is going to be a normal match.” She lets that boot drop and repeats the stretch with her left, “We’ll shake hands and wrestle a clean, competitive match.”
Lisa’s opponent for tonight is the Platinum Pixie herself, Kylie Sanders. She is a decorated veteran in her own right who shouldn’t be underestimated, whose presence unevens The Dream psychologically. Lisa’s done the hard work of becoming a better person than she was for most of her life, but she’s avoided most of those she victimized in her heelish days. She’s responsible for not one but TWO of Kylie’s lowest points; the fabled but infamous ‘Microphone Incident’ and the Reverse Gauntlet which an already weary Sanders was defeated and ‘Old Schooled’ by four of FAWN’s biggest bullies.
“We’ve moved past that,” Lisa assures herself nervously, hopping lightly on her toes to warm up, her skirt fluttering with the motion giving glimpses of her creamy thighs to any passerby rubbernecking. “Sure we’ve never actually talked about it, but we gave each other an understanding look. She went bad for a bit too, she gets it! Granted, I may be partly responsible for Kylie going down that path...”
Their latest tag match against each other didn’t help matters. Lisa tried her best to stay on the good girl wagon, but Sanders’s partner Cassava Onika stirred those sweet bad girl urges. The Bittersweet Symphony had been silent since she made her return, butt seeing the Buns of Mass Destruction up close was too tempting a target and now her hands are itching to play a tune. And Lisa remembers Kylie’s glutes paddle extremely well.
“Nope!” Lisa lightly slaps the sides of her face, “Get off that train of thought.” A backstage hand alerts her that the announcer’s about to bring her in, when he leaves she nods to herself, “We’re better as we are now. Perfectly Perfect.”
In the center of the ring, the besuited announcer projects into his microphone, “Our next match is scheduled for one fall with a thirty-minute time limit. Our first competitor…”
The lights go off in the arena and a chant for the resurrected Ultimate Image starts echoing in the darkness.
“LEE-SA! LEE-SA! LEE-SA!”
www.youtube.com/watch?v=EJC-_j3SnXk
A single beam breaks the gloom. Their volume rises in a crescendo along with the stirring rendition of O Fortuna. The industry icon appears, once more in the spotlight figuratively and literally.
LISA DREAM
Sins washed away, the crowd welcomes Dream with a resounding ovation, Lisa looking upon the masses with a serene smile.
“Hailing from New York, New York. Standing at five feet seven inches tall and weighing in at one hundred and fifteen pounds, she is the Personification of Perfection... LISA DREAM!”
The Dream is a reborn vision in white. A diaphanous pale miniskirt makes her appear an angel that escaped the demons imprisoning her to find redemption in the mortal realm. And for the Dreamophiles in the audience, everyone from the massive reaction, Lisa’s ivory legs are finally in view, perfection covered only to mid-thigh by the delicate skirt. Ankle boots and pads in white as well.
The Personification of Perfection strides down the ramp and aisle sending a chill down the spine of every Dreamer, there’s a small smattering of boos and jeers from the hardcore members of the Kylie Corps but they’re nearly drowned out by the outpouring of love. Dream nods to the cheers and ignores the detractor, comfortable enough to carefully offer her palm to slap extended hands.
Reaching the ring, the reincarnated legend ascends the ring steps. Lisa halts for a long look around the bowl, beaming under the adulation. She slips through the ropes and moves to the middle, bowing to the exalting crowd.
Her iconic music fades and the ring announcer takes up his duties.
“And her opponent…”
The announcer lets the words draw the requisite ear-splitting ovation from the FAWNatics, delaying his completion.
Behind the curtain, butterflies flutter in the former Girl Scout’s tummy.
Sure. She’d faced Lisa at AHE. But that was a tag match. Tonight, in an attempt to follow Cassava’s lead and get retribution for their team loss over the members of the Dream Team, Ky would face one of her nightmare makers alone.
They’d been respectful to each other before, during and after that match, but the amount of nervous energy created after hearing the intro of the Ultimate Image brings Ky back to the bad old days. The Pixie gulps hard as Cassava takes great pleasure in massaging her partner’s shoulders.
“You sure you don’t want me out there?” the Milk Chocolate Mauler whispers in her ear.
“No. If she’s out there without Heather, I can’t really take you along. Sorry.”
“I get it,” Cassava responds.
From beyond, the announcer, having milked all the drama, continues.
“Hailing from Pleasant Valley, Iowa; standing 5 feet 4 inches and weighing in at 115 pounds, the Platinum Pixie…KYLIE SANDERS!”
“It’s time.” Cassava adds.
“Sure is,” Sanders adds nervously.
And when the glorious, melodious and upbeat Sixpence None The Richer’s ‘There She Goes’ sweeps through the arena and the Corps roars to its collective feet, the FAWN original seems ready to go and pushes through.
( www.youtube.com/watch?v=tMfXeuv4kZE )
Moving to center stage, Kylie absorbs the crowd’s adulation, smiling and waving, the sight of their redeemed Pleasant Valley Princess eliciting rekindled love in the direction of the silvery-bobbed beauty.
KYLIE SANDERS
Drawing 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, Ky cups a hand to an ear, enjoying the chants of ‘KY-LEE’ that overwhelm her accompaniment.
( www.yandy.com/products/lets-mesh-around-bra-set )
A beaming Sanders walks the aisle, happy to slap hands with her fans, gazing with delight at a poster proclaiming “Lisa may be good as gold, but OUR GIRL’S PLATINUM!”.
Reaching the ring and climbing the steps, Ky takes a moment to gaze around the arena at the massive display of affection. Sanders salutes her supporters before slipping through the cables.
Moving to the middle, Ky nods at a patiently loitering Lisa, then turns to the hard cam and applauds the sellout crowd.
She mouths a “Thank you”, apparently happy not to address the Corps with a mic, particularly considering The Dream passed on the opportunity.
The veteran strides to the corner opposite the ‘perfect’ brunette, turns to face her legendary adversary, and uses the ropes on either side to stretch.
She’d let actions speak louder tonight.
Even if Lisa is truly walking the straight and narrow, The Dream would be leaving on that path after taking a loss, Ky focused on claiming one of the bigger victories of her fabled career.
The bell rings out triggering a small pop from the crowd but neither woman leaves their corner, Kylie and Lisa gauge each other from across the ring trying to see the next ten moves that are going to happen when they touch. The audience senses the tension and begin to yell out dualling chants, the Dreamophiles and the Kylie Corps are having a match of their own in the stand. Hopefully, it won’t turn physical.
KY-LEE! LEE-SA! KY-LEE! LEE-SA! KY-LEE! LEE-SA!.......
They’re spirits buoyed by their respective armies, Lisa and Kylie cautiously approach each other with palms out ready to break out in violence at any moment. They meet each other halfway across the canvas and engage in a quick one-squeeze handshake then break away, circling one another like territorial animals. The decorated veterans inch their way to what’s looking like a Test of Strength- Lisa shoots forward for an Elbow and Collar and Kylie backs a way?
Lisa raises an eyebrow as she tries to box the evading Girl Scout in while the fans look confused, Kylie usually throws herself into the fray no matter the odds. She doubts the platinum blonde has any fear of her foe given their catalogue of matches. Whatever’s going on, Kylie’s still maneuvering in a ready stance, so The Dream has to chalk it up to strategy.
“Feeling nervous, Ky?” Lisa asks as she cuts off an escape route and backs her into the ropes. Kylie seems to weigh her options before approaching with an Elbow and Collar. Lisa’s right there with her and steps in, and nearly falls over when Sanders melts from view and takes the brunette in a Waistlock from behind. She presses her cheek against Lisa’s back and grits her teeth with the effort to squeeze The Dream’s already dainty waist down another size. “Not at all, just trying out a different game plan.”
Lisa winces in discomfort and tries to stretch a leg into the ropes but gets dragged deeper into the ring. The taller Lightweight pokes and pries at the knot of hands grinding below her navel. Lisa bears lower looking for leverage and Kylie moves in sync like she's DFeam’s shadow. A subtle twitch in an index finger gives Lisa the opening she needs to break the grasp and spin on a boot to reverse the Waistlock.
People underestimate Dream’s strength because of her body type but those wiry arms are coiled steel. Sanders is having harder luck breaking Dream’s grasp, so she tries a different method. Overplaying the pain of the hug, Kylie slowly lowers onto a knee, when Lisa shifts her position to compensate she finds her head lassoed in a stiff Headlock that puts a crick in her neck.
Sanders works that Headlock like she’s like she’s twisting off the cap off a stubborn bottle of beer. Her reasonably small arms flex around the brunette’s skull as she wrenches the hold up and down, even hopping in place to add a bit of whiplash.
Since her personal epiphany, Lisa Dream has shed her narcissistic tendances, but Lisa has to draw the line at the image of the Personification of Perfection sporting cauliflower ears. She trades the Waistlock in for two handsy grips of Sanders hips, who doubles down on the Headlock so it doubles her rival over.
Sanders grins and pumps the hold, “What’s up, L? How’re you going to train Crofton if you tap to-Whuh!?” The Pleasant Valley Princess is a fish on a line, reeled back and up, ending on her shoulders as Dream drops and rolls in reverse. Referee Nick Castle swiftly lowers past Snaders kicking legs and squirming buttocks to count the pin.
ONE!
Kylie kicks out of the pin with a burst of neck and core strength but she’s not out of danger, the moment Kylie’s horizontal on the mat Lisa climbs aboard across Sanders’ chest in a Crossbody Cover.
ONE!
The Girl Scout shoves the Dream off and sits up urgently. Lisa doggedly keeps going for a quick pin and starts lifting the bobbed blonde by the ears in prelude to a Snapmare. Mid-rise Kylie snags her opponent by the left leg and takes Lisa down, seamlessly sliding into a cover of her own.
ONE!
Lisa bucks free, rolls onto her front and skitters out from under Sanders. The two rush to their feet, immediately adopting a wrestler’s crouch if the other attacks. The FAWNatics applaud the flurry of action as the two veterans stare each other down in a standoff. Lisa breaks the peace and charges into Sanders, taking her foe in an Elbow and Collar. She forces the blonde back step by step while grinding her forehead against Kylie’s.
“Crofton is doing great. You should consider taking someone under your wing. I know you and Jasmine didn’t end well but you weren’t at your best either…agh!”
Kylie uses a little trick she learned from Emily West. Allowing Dream to overpower her for a moment, Kylie lowers her head as she pulls down on Dream’s neck, bringing the taller woman’s eyes into her prickly, platinum hair. When Lisa flinches, Kylie takes control of the grapple and wheels around and bullies forward to put the ropes into her enemy’s back.
The PVP rocks Lisa’s sternum with a forearm shiver, then THUMPS her foe’s modest rack with a Knife-Edge Chop, prompting a WOOOO from the loyal Corps. Kylie points her shoulder and lashes out a second Chop but hits only air, The Dream sinking to a seat on the middle cable and springing off her toned rear to snake around the pint-sized fan favorite, taking Sanders by the waist and upending Kylie onto her shoulders once again!
ONE!
Kylie braces her hands against the canvas and sprouts into a handstand, escaping defeat and tumbling onto all fours. She pushes up with a fist at the ready but Lisa’s faster and gets her in a Front Facelock.
Commentators are expecting a Snap Suplex only to be surprised by the Ultimate Image when she weaves her lovely stems around Kylie’s middle for a Guilotine choke! The extra weight drags Sanders down, but she’s squirming for dear life to stop the Choke from latching tightly. There’s too much technique happening to rightly call it a ‘catball’ but that doesn’t stop the baser fans from chanting “CATFIGHT! CATFIGHT!”
All her scrambling bears fruit. Kylie tears her head free from Lisa’s grasp but she’s on her knees with The Dream’s legs compressing her sides like a living corset.
With Lisa lying before her, jaw clenched, perfect pearlies gritting, the brunette’s lower half elevated to keep the cinching scissors around the sides of the kneeling Sanders’ waist, a wincing Ky ignores the leg vice as best she can. Ky leans forward to deliver forearm smashes. With The Dream raising her forearms to protect her head, the Platinum Pixie hones in on Lisa’s chest, jugg mugging the Ultimate Image with several blows.
With Kylie’s head lowered to continue her attack, Dream gives up her guard and shoots her arms around the back of Ky’s head, then draws her close, again trying to secure a guillotine.
Sanders reacts quickly, pushing forward on her knees, stacking Lisa on her shoulders for the…
ONE…
TWO…
Dream’s forced to give up her grip above and scissors below to escape the pinfall.
Disconnected, blonde and brunette scramble to their feet, ending in semi-feral crouches, the legends ready to go after each other once more.
The tableaus of fabled fighters poised to strike draws a large ovation from the crowd, the supporters of each woman even more attuned to the special event they’re witnessing.
Inside, the icons throw their bodies at each other again, coming together in a collar-and-elbow, then working for leverage. Using her more compact frame, Ky scoots out of the tie-up, grabbing Lisa’s left wrist and sliding behind her. The Pixie ratchets Dream’s wing high in a painful hammerlock, eliciting a Dream move to tiptoes in hopes of lessening the pressure on her shoulder.
The Ultimate Image throws an elbow toward Sanders’ right temple to try and free herself, but Kylie dips under. She shoves Lisa but pulls her back like a yo-yo with the grip on her foe’s left wrist, THUMPING a short-arm clothesline across her chest. The Personification of Perfection is staggered but retains her verticality.
Kylie pounds a toe kick deep into the New Yorker’s belly, doubling over the legendary Lisa, Dream gasping for breath. Meanwhile, the Hawkeye spins and heads for the cables. She rebounds out of the rubber-coated steel and buries a shoulder, NEARLY CUTTING LISA IN HALF with a vicious spear. The Dream’s body folds around the charging Ky and the Iowan tackles Dream to the deck, Lisa ending sprawled in front of the Pixie, Sanders on all fours.
With Dream laid out before her, Kylie can’t pass on the opportunity at victory. She dives across the splayed Lisa in a crossbody pin, chest perpendicular to chest. Ky hooks the slightly raised far leg and folds The Dream atop her shoulders, flipping to a back press pin for the…
ONE…
TWO…
The once upon a time embodiment of narcissistic self-delusion now redeemed superstar shoves a shoulder up, forcefully pushing Sanders off. Still, Lisa’s left hugging her roiling tummy after, Kylie’s tackles among the harshest in the game pound for pound.
A rising Sanders tears Dream’s arms away from her ivory midriff. Ky quickly turns her back to the brunette and slips into a slight crouch, then launches in a nimble backflip to land a standing moonsault and test the battered abdomen of The Dream.
Standing Moonsault ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=8s-2FiiVYXM )
However, Lisa’s hundreds of matches across multiple federations leaves her with the ability to tap into a living database on every opponent and, even in her pained condition, she knows to get her knees up. As such, it’s the Hawkeye’s midriff skewered by Lisa’s bony caps when Ky splashes across them.
A bug-eyed Kylie rolls away from the balled Dream, it now the Pixie’s turn to embrace her aching abs.
Lisa pushes to a seat and watches Kylie moan breathlessly, an arm swaddling her own navel. Dream pushes to her knees and ‘walks’ toward the silvery-bobbed grappler. Perhaps unsurprisingly, Ky does the same, determined to not let the Ultimate Image take control.
The grapplers reach each other on their knees. They lean a forehead against the other.
“You’re not beating me again, Lisa,” Ky informs in a breathy wheeze.
“I beg to differ, Kylie. You’re tough but you have no answer for the perfect plan.”
The word ‘perfect’ coming from between Lisa’s lips sends a shiver down Sanders’ spine. The Pixie pushes back on Dream’s shoulders so there’s room between them and thrusts a forearm shiver at the brunette’s jaw.
Dream ducks under, the blow skidding over the top of Lisa’s dome. The Ultimate Image wraps an arm around the off-balance Sanders in a front facelock, rises to a crouch in the blink of an eye and SPIKES the crown of Kylie’s platinum pixie cut into the thinly-sheathed plywood with a kneeling DDT.
Kneeling DDT ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=6WGLIRiiPQU ) :03
Ky’s THUMPED into a momentary headstand from the precision of Lisa’s maneuver. Sanders finally tumbles to her back, out cold. Dream scrambles around her motionless foe to press tight in a crossbody pin, hooking the far leg for a perfect victory with the…
ONE…
TWO…
Kylie kicks a shoulder off the canvas, flopping to her side out of muscle memory.
Lisa shoves the shellshocked Sanders to her back and pushes to her feet.
“Let me show you how the legends do it,” Dream assures.
The Ultimate Image of Human Perfection skips over Kylie’s prone form and hops to the ropes to Sanders’ left. Landing on the middle cable and grasping the top, Lisa gracefully springboards in a backflip from the strands, the vision in white floating in an aerial somersault before SPLASHING across the Pixie’s open ivory midriff with her Dreamysault.
Dreamysault ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=8-rOycQdAPo )
Kylie’s hazel peepers bulge wide as she reflexively jackknifes under the impact of excellence.
Pin pre-made by her landing, Lisa hooks both limp legs of the Pleasant Valley Princess and holds on for the inevitable…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
Ky spasms a shoulder off the deck once more, The Dream looking disappointed but hardly surprised.
“Yeah. I figured,” Lisa whispers to herself. “Fair enough.”
Dream snatches what she can of the Hawkeye’s platinum pixie cut and tugs a mewling Sanders up with her.
“I got more if you do,” Lisa says as she pulls Sanders’ noggin into a side headlock.
“You don’t have half of what I do,” Ky huffs, wriggling to find some slack.
Dream breaks the hold of her own accord, spinning face to face and shoving Kylie on the shoulders. The shorter Sanders backpedals a few steps before regaining her balance. The Iowan immediately charges her likewise legendary foe with a clothesline drawn to remove a perfect head from perfect shoulders.
But Lisa pivots and locks elbows with the Hawkeye’s swing.
The Pixie is sent into a pirouette from the do-si-do with Dream and when Kylie turns to find her adversary, Lisa’s ready. The brunette skies into the air, laying out while snatching Kylie’s head in a ¾ facelock. The result is a Dreamy Cutter drawing a loud ‘OHHHH’ from the FAWNatics simultaneous to a gunshot like THUMP to the canvas, Kylie’s jaw jacked hard enough she’s sent flopping to her back in a spreadeagle.
Dreamy Cutter ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=5rxgsFQO3zI ) 4:53
Lisa gloriously kips to her feet over the demolished Pixie, the Dreamophiles metaphorically singing her praises, Kylie’s Corps silenced at the site of their insensate favorite.
Surmising Sanders might still have a kickout left in her, Lisa motions for Ky to waken and rise so she can collect a semi-conscious PVP and give Sanders a Day Dreamer she’d neither remember nor forget.
Kylie lumbers onto her hands with a groan and slowly gets her feet under her. Lisa’s lying in wait just outside the Iowan’s peripheral vision.
Despite her swirling vision and the warning each member of the Corps in the arena, Kylie woozily straightens, and Lisa shoots off like a bottle rocket!
The Dream materializes from the blonde’s 8 O’Clock and reaches across to loop her arm around Sanders’ head in a ¾ Facelock. Lisa lifts her right leg straight and high cueing the Dreamophiles to get ready to leap out of their chairs in victory, but it will be a dream denied!
Kylie wrenches Lisa’s arm off her skull pulls it behind the brunette and rips back Lisa’s other arm before she can turn around. Kylie tugs her unwilling opponent into circling her body forcing the back of Lisa’s head against the middle of the Princess’s back.
Kylie calls out over her shoulder, “Told ya!” and kicks out her legs. The pair fall to the mat in a blink and half the arena flinches at the awful Thump! of Lisa’s perfect face being sandwiched between Kylie and the ring floor.
PLEASANT VALLEY PLUMMET
youtu.be/_-sAVJIcb-k?t=1467
The Kylie Corps go nuts for their glorious leader pulling out a new move this late into her career. Lisa’s noggin hits the deck before her legs, so everyone sees the quiver that passes through her pale stems before they flop lifelessly on the canvas.
Knowing time is of the essence, Kylie moves quick as a whip to scooch over, and shove Lisa face up, then climb aboard into a full body cover. Cheek-to-cheek and breast-to-breast, Kylie pins Lisa’s wrists overhead and tries to will herself to be three times as heavy during the referee’s count.
ONE…
TWO…
NOOOOO!
The Dream gets a shoulder up with a full second to spare.
Kylie has a look of dismay. She could feel Lisa’s body give up on impact and was sure of it!
The PVP seems to realize she’ll just have to try harder.
Kylie drags Lisa up off the ring floor in stages, the vision in white looking shaky on her feet. She sends her dark-haired rival off to the corner with a strong Irish Whip. Lisa gallops with an unsteady gait, turning to hit the buckles with more force than spectators assumed the former Vanilla Chill possessed.
The Dream’s knees have had enough, and they buckle. Lisa drops on her perfect bum sending a shock up her tailbone. The New Yorker shuts her eyes and leans her head back with a groan. Kylie runs to the corner diagonal from her seated opponent and teases the Florida audience with a Bronco Buster by miming a lasso.
The uproar surrounding the ring as Kylie breaks into a sprint is a dead-heat between excited wrestling marks and FAWN ‘purists’ who don’t buy Gladiatrix for the articles. The Platinum Pixie takes to the air with her abbreviated stems out front some feet from Lisa and flies into a collision with her former enemy/not yet a friend. Kylie’s patootie pulverizes the pert chest of Lisa and rattles the ropes and her crotch clips The Dream’s chin when she pulls on the middle cables to raise for another butt bomb. The fickle fans, as always, count along with each bust of the bronco no matter who’s on the receiving end.
ONE! TWO! THERE! FOUR! FIVE! SIX! SEVEN! EIGHT! NINE! TEN!
Kylie rolls off her now flaccid foe and pops to standing. Instead of basking in the glow of the Corps, she breaks for the corner adjacent to Lisa and U-turns back to the Ultimate Image of Defeat at a faster pace. At the last moment before crashing, Kylie twists and blasts Lisa with a Hip attack to the side of her foe’s face!
Hip Attack ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=JWxNHCkLis0 )
Lisa’s top half careens over the bottom rope and Dream hangs over the cable like laundry. It’s heartbreaking for her legions to see her in such a state. Kylie struts out of the corner playfully slapping at her glute, then pointing to the top of the ramp alluding to the locker room. “For my Superfan!”
Eyes glued to a monitor broadcasting the match backstage, Cassava Onika jumps up and down in pure happiness. When her heroine struck that booty pop, The Superfan instinctively hugged the nearest person to her bosom, and she still hasn’t let go. Merle’s having a real up-and-down day.
Back inside the squared circle, Kylie pulls a ragdolled Dream by the ankles out of the corner and arranges her sister veteran in the perfect position to be a crashpad. The energized Iowan skips over the prone Personification of Perfection and hops onto the bottom ropes, Kylie looks over her shoulder double-checking the distance then springs off them to the top ropes, then launches into a not quite Sensational but still impressive Moonsault.
Lisa’s legs twitch but they’re too slow and Kylie hits her high-flying move with navel-to-navel accuracy. Lisa lets out a loud bellow like a blockage was removed and her limbs shoot up as her midsection is crushed by her past victim. Sanders grabs the far leg before it can fall back and hooks it DEEP. Referee Nick Castle slides in and slaps the canvas.
ONE….
TWO….
THREE!?!
The Kylie Corps erupt in happiness as their leader shoves to her feet and throws her fists in the air in elation “Yeaaah!!” A weight she didn't realize she was carrying falls away and Kylie lets out a happy sigh. she turns to offer her wrist to Castle and sees him crouching by Lisa shaking his head and pointing.
“She got the bottom rope. The pin doesn’t count.”
He’s right. Lisa has the cable in a death grip and is still shaking it to grab the official’s attention. Kylie turns pale and her stomach drops. She whips her gaze to the FAWNtron and the count replayed on the giant screen, seeing Lisa get the rope break just after the two count.
“Dammit!” Kylie curses and rubs her palms up her face, then pulling at her bobbed hair in exasperation.
She takes a calming breath as Lisa gets to her feet with the help of the turnbuckles and leans on them for support.
“Okay, we’re alright. Keep the momentum going.”
After the self-pep talk, Sanders marches and turns the limp Dream to face her. She gives the two-time World champ an Overhand Chop (Woooo!), and a Knife-Edge Chop (Woooo!), then pulls her into a secure Side Headlock.
Sanders breaks into a sprint with Dream in tow, halfway across the ring she sits out for a Running Bulldog yet finds herself held aloft by Lisa Dream! Gripping the smaller woman from behind by the thighs, Lisa lifts The Pixie higher and spins, giving the arena a great look at the glutes Kylie used as a weapon earlier, then drives her crotch onto a posted knee.
INVERTED ATOMIC DROP
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ddCF6X0rw5c
Kylie bounces off the joint with a pained squeal, getting a surprising amount of air, then falls flat on her face.
The Iowan tries to collect herself before Lisa can capitalize unaware the taller Lightweight has retreated into the ropes for a boost of speed. Kylie gets to her knees, then pushes to stand with one hand massaging her throbbing coccyx. She turns- Crack! and gets nailed in the face with a flying Back Elbow. Sanders drops like she was in a sniper’s crosshairs while Lisa looms above catching her breath.
With the splayed, glassy-eyed Sanders inviting Dream to cover with her stuporous visage, Lisa Legend takes the opportunity, diving across the flattend frame of the FAWN original in a lateral press, Lisa hooking the far leg for the…
ONE…
TWO…
Ky shoves a shoulder off the canvas, pivoting to her side to prevent another immediate pinfall attempt. Still smarting below, the Platinum Pixie massages her tailbone. Next to her, The Dream knee-walks to Kylie’s boot soles as the Hawkeye rolls to her chest.
Before Sanders can begin to rise, Lisa crosses Kylir’s slender ivory stems at the ankles, then shimmies her kneeling form up the Pixie’s frame to lock the lower limbs in place beneath her undercarriage.
Grabbing Ky’s left arm, Dream lifts and slips her head and torso under the wing, then snatches Kylie’s noggin in a crossface grip. With the Dreamy Stretch secure, the Ultimate Image works at shredding the blonde’s abs and cranking on her neck, focusing on submitting a woman notorious in her persistence.
Dreamy Stretch ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=GwQQod_g_7A )
Kylie howls in pain but refuses to say the magic word when Castle gives her a way out.
“Quit, Kylie!” Lisa demands. “Before I snap you!”
Sanders isn’t in a condition or position to do more than gurgle out something approximating ‘no’. Lisa continues to bear down, guessing the former Vanilla Chill must be close to the breaking point. But after another dozen seconds, still the Iowan won’t surrender, Lisa learning like countless before her Sanders could take a beating like few others in the organization’s history. Her own limbs beginning to spasm from overuse, Dream gives up her submission, removing her grip first.
The Pixie’s chest and head seep back in place, Kylie sighing deeply in relief. Digging her nails into the canvas, the grappler in black and gold pulls herself forward, slipping her crossed legs out from under Dream. Able to unfold the ‘X’ made of her lower limbs, Ky shakes out her stems and reaches the cables in front of her.
Grasping the rubber-coated steel, she uses the ropes to pull toward vertical. Behind her, the Personification of Perfection’s already there. She observes her decades-long counterpart with fascination. Her egomaniacal alter ego once called Ky the Perfect Pin Cushion and The Dream couldn’t deny the leather-clad version of Lisa her point. There was something about a cute-as-a-button Energizer Bunny taking the worst a better wrestler could dish out but keep going and going and going.
“I’m going to miss this,” Lisa says earnestly. But the words aren’t so sentimental Dream doesn’t follow up with a forearm smash to the jaw that rocks Sanders to the core. With the Pixie bent at the waist and wobbling, a hand on a knee, Lisa turns and sprints for the opposite strands. The brunette rebounds and NAILS Ky with a dropkick to the chest that sends Kylie tumbling between the top and middle cables. The Pixie crashes to the apron before flopping to the thinly-padded cement of the arena floor.
Sliding out after the puddled Sanders, Lisa places a palm on the crown of the Pixie’s skull after the Pleasant Valley Princess reaches her haunches, the blonde too dumbfounded to rise further.
The Dreamophiles roar for their converted Ultimate Image, Lisa inspired enough to turn in their direction and lift her arms high and wide, raising the volume of her supporters but also drawing a noticeable round of boos from the Corps.
Lisa’s attention is brought back to her main task when the Pixie balls a left fist and stuffs it into Lisa’s navel, drawing a grunt from The Dream. Lisa’s left set of fingers clench tight into the silvery bob of her adversary when Kylie THUMPS another punch into the legend’s tummy, faintly doubling the brunette, then fully doing so with a third, fourth and fifth slug.
With Lisa’s dark eyes bulging as she gasps for breath, the dogged Sanders uses Dream to pull up next to her foe, the Corps with something to cheer about.
Ky sinks her nails into Lisa’s dark locks and draws Dream’s head back as far as she can. The Pixie then throws the face of the Ultimate Image forward, BANGING Lisa’s flawless features into the hardest part of the ring. Dream’s head violently whiplashes away from the deck. A shellshocked Dream spins and falls into Kylie’s arms.
Her curled wings under the armpits of Lisa, Ky is the only thing keeping Dream from melting to the floor.
“I’m going to make sure you don’t miss it fondly,” Sanders growls, nose to nose with her adversary.
The Platinum Pixie turns her legendary foe and trundles Lisa back in under the bottom ropes.
Huffing, the blonde takes a little detour to avail herself of the ring steps. Instead of entering, Ky climbs the corner from the outside, reaching the penthouse in a crouch, looking down on the slowly ascending Dream. Waiting until the precise moment Lisa rotates in her direction, Sanders takes off, exploding out of her squat, employing as best she can Shea London’s long-ago instructions, delivered when Kylie was a little more than a rookie.
Soaring at not-quite-Sensational levels, abbreviated legs extended in front of her, Kylie STOMPS her boot soles into Lisa’s modest bosom with a Missile Dropkick. The impact sends Dream back-somersaulting across the canvas, skidding to a halt on her chest. Lisa winces as she absently turns to her back, an arm swaddling her bruised gurls.
When Ky kips to her feet, there’s an explosion of noisy admiration throughout the bowl, Sanders even claiming some of the Dreamers among those providing the ovation.
Kylie moves to a forward-facing standing straddle of the splayed Dream’s waist. With Lisa protecting topside, Ky launches into the air above her opponent and STOMPS both boot soles into the perfect midriff of the brunette. Lisa jackknifing around the impaling feet of the Pixie.
Sanders dismounts, rolling Dream to her chest with a kick to the ribs of the Ultimate Image. Ky drops to her haunches, DRIVING her taut, tiny backside into the base of the brunette’s spine. The Pixie dramatically raises her right hand high, fashioning it into a claw.
The FAWNatics immediately respond, shouting out ‘FARM…HAND!”
A smiling Kylie nods in agreement and sends her right set of talons digging DEEP into Lisa’s left hammy, clamping her delving digits into the muscle of Dream’s thigh with her infamous signature.
The Platinum Pixie works her famous grip into the nerve bundle at the juncture of hamstring and glute. As Lisa’s leg begins to spasm in response, Ky demands Castle ask Dream if she wants to end the match.
Perfect pearlies gritting in agony, the Ultimate Image grunts out a ‘Hell no’, at least until Ky digs even deeper into the meat and muscle, drawing a howl of anguish from the legend.
“You sure about that?” Sanders shouts over her shoulder and indeed Lisa’s open right palm hovers over the canvas, twitching, The Dream deciding whether to capitulate. But instead of tapping out, she digs her nails into the canvas and starts pulling herself, hand over fist, to the cables a few feet before her.
It takes an excruciating dozen seconds or more, but finally Lisa’s able to wrap a palm around the bottom rope. Dream screams for release and Kylie grants it after one final twist of her infamous hammy clamp.
The platinum blonde respectfully backs away, letting Dream steadily get to her feet with the help of the cables. Lisa leans heavily on her right stem because she can’t put too much weight on her left without feeling a pang, residuals from the Hammy Clamp.
“You need me to come over there?” Kylie asks with a slight rasp and her hands on her knees, the length of the match starting to become a factor. “Or do you want to call it night?”
“I’ll be fine, thank you.” Lisa answers taking the lack of a charge as respect and not overconfidence.
Tentatively testing her weight on her bad wheel, she ventures out away from the cables ready to grapple. But with a noticeable hitch in her giddy up.
Kylie matches her pace planning to kick into high gear when they make contact- Lisa puts on a rush of speed closing the gap and bicycles her knee towards Kylie’s face! The Pixie tilts her head and avoids a concussion-maker by a hair’s breadth and snares the attacking leg behind the knee. Encircling Lisa’s head before she can attempt an Enziguri and joining her hands, Sanders hauls The Dream overhead and rams her spine against the mat in a blindingly fast arc! It takes Merle a half second to realize Sanders has bridged to the max (toes pointed) and has The Dream’s shoulders down.
FISHERMAN’S SUPLEX
youtu.be/1_iYBNDMJIg?t=103
ONE…
TWO…
Lisa sputters to life and fights out of Kylie’s grasp. She turns onto a hip with eyes wide and a gasping breath, like she’s been dragged out of the ocean. The sweet relief of escaping defeat only lasts a moment. Kylie shows grim persistence and calculated viciousness by shoving Lisa face down and yanking her weak left leg nearly out of its socket with a Half Crab.
The Ultimate Image is facing an ultimatum, tap now or risk leaving on crutches.
“AAAAAAH! AIEEE!”
Lisa wails as Kylie inches higher up her back, the tip of the New Yorker’s boot dangerously close to making a perfect circle with the top of Lisa’s head. Weighing her options, Dream’s shaking hand hovers over the canvas as the Pleasant Valley Princess shouts “Tap Lisa! Just tap! It’s time for-!”
Kylie’s attention is drawn to a bubble of unease surfacing in the electric and divided crowd, dueling chants between the Dreamophiles and Kylie’s Corps making room for a wordless cry of alarm. Sanders scans the arena and sees the reason, technically two reasons. The Tag Champs!
BECKY CLAYTON
CELIA BLASSENVILLE
Psy Ops stands imposingly at the top of the ramp, tag title belts laying over a shoulder of each. The dual Destroyers stare down at the ring. It’s hard to tell from the fans’ perspective but Kylie senses they’re looking at Lisa, obviously still upset at The Dream Team’s intervention in the planned post-match ruination of their defeated challengers.
“They better keep their distance,” Sanders mutters, “I didn’t work this hard to lose by DQ- Hey!”
The appearance of the Doctor and the Soldier proves distracting enough for Sanders to weaken her lean on the submission, giving Lisa the slack she needs to fight out of the submission.
The brunette straightens her legs almost putting Kylie through a somersault, the Pixie hastily and awkwardly dismounts from her straddle, still gripping Lisa by an ankle and doubling up with her right leg when Perfection flips onto her chest and tries crawling toward a rope break.
Kylie sets her feet and tugs on Lisa’s legs hard enough for the veteran’s creamy legs to slide past her hips, making Lisa’s waist within reach, wrap her arms around with an S grip.
Kylie backs deeper into the ring with Dream fruitlessly reaching for ropes that grow farther away.
“I don’t think either of us saw this coming,” Kylie comments as she crouches a little lower, tensing her whole body for what’s to come.
“This is more Wendy’s deal.”
The PV Princess puts a lot of force into her hips to hup Lisa into a Wheelbarrow Suplex.
Sadly for the Corps, Lisa has a lot of tape on Wendy Smith too. The Dreamy One rears herself back with Sanders’ motion and pulls the blonde’s chin onto a shoulder the same time she swings out her perfect legs. Sanders is driven down by the change in weight distribution, Lisa lands on her toned cheeks, while Kylie’s rocked by a surprise stunner.
THE PERFECT COUNTER
youtu.be/Ee-EpkTTsiY?t=65
Kylie bounces away in comically flailing fashion from Lisa, her limbs moving of their own accord during her collapse to the mat. Lisa throws herself atop her exhausting and exhausted opponent, bundling both of Kylie’s legs under an arm to pack her into a tight ball of a cover.
ONE..
TWO…
T-NOOOO!!
The cover is undone!
Kylie explodes from under. The Dream rolls some feet away, chest up with belly heaving. Lisa gets onto a knee about to splash across Kylie for a second pinfall attempt when she notices the unwelcome newcomers.
“What the hell…?”
The Tag Team champions now stand at the base of the ramp having quietly closed the distance during the in-ring action. Celia and Becky’s faces are twin masks of disinterested menace, the latter giving Lisa mocking applause for her turnaround. Lisa’s eyes narrow and the adrenalin flows more freely with the presence of a new threat.
She looks over at the still gasping Corps leader, “I’m guessing you’re not about to reveal you’re the third woman of Psy Ops?”
Kylie groans on the mat “I don’t exactly fit the theme.” and raises a leveled hand above her head to indicate the significant difference in size between her and the intruders.
“Fair point.”
Dream stands, moves to her legal foe, and works her fingers into Kylie’s sweaty, silvery mop, pulls Sanders to her haunches.
The persistent Pixie fires a punch into Dream’s navel to force Lisa off, but eats a kneecap to the face for her trouble. And then a second, and then a third, and a fourth knee that turns Sanders’ body to jelly.
Lisa pulls a ragdolled Kylie to stooped feet and into a snug standing head scissors, then wraps her arms around the Iowan’s tummy to lift and turn her in the direction of the champs, pointing Kylie’s cute ass toward the dominant titleholders with a grudge against her.
With a hard look on her flawless features, Lisa makes eye contact with Becky and Celia, then slowly raises her flattened hands, the noise of the FAWNatics rising with them.
Will the Bittersweet Symphony be played tonight?
Perhaps inspired by wanting to show Kylie who’s better when both play above board, perhaps wanting to show Psy Ops what they had coming, Dream THWAPS her palms into Ky’s partially exposed backside, SPANKING the Pixie with meaty slaps. Lisa drums away at a rapid pace, note after note from her Symphony connecting in stinging succession. As the count grows, Kylie raises to tiptoes, yipping with each paddle of her patootie.
With the feeling of needles sticking into her bum from more than a dozen swats to each glute, Sanders sighs in relief as the rain of blows ends. The Dreamophiles roar with excitement at having the chance to see a glorious Symphony played by the maestro.
With her hands free after the conclusion of her opus, Lisa underhooks the limp arms of the Hawkeye, ready to conclude the contest with her Fallen Angel, the perfect package piledriver encore to a Bittersweet Symphony.
Fallen Angel ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=nJ7Eam95zFw ) :07
But before she shifts from underhooking Ky’s arms to scooping behind her knees and ending Sanders’ night, the Army of One Woman and the auburn-haired Psycho-iatrist hop to the apron, not ten feet from Dream, only slender strands of rubber-coated steel between them.
“You really need to go back in the hospital, Lisa,” Celia assures. “Trust me. It’s what’s best for everyone. Some quiet time back in your suite at Orlando General would do a world of good.”
Lisa Legend lets loose of her adversary, Kylie dropping to her haunches, a reprieve provided, the stay of match execution granted by the Cruel Clinician and her camouflaged counterpart.
Not about to be intimidated, Dream steps to the champs, Castle edging between when Lisa and Blassenville go nose to nose.
“You’re not going to take any more of my life from me,” Dream responds with a growl.
Celia lifts a pair of handcuffs with a steely smile.
“The wagon’s right outside. I can have you back in your accommodations within an hour.”
Flushing red, Lisa tries to dive over Nick and get her bared nails into the face of her former physician.
Fury unleashed, Celia and Bex drop to the floor, the Doc twirling her cuffs on an index finger, Clayton enjoying the insanity in the eyes of the Ultimate Image.
With Castle holding Dream from exiting and attacking, a clueless Kylie knee-walks forward, slips her head between Lisa’s thighs from behind and, risking yet another standing headscissors, curls her arms around The Dream’s lower limbs.
A startled Lisa’s dark eyes go wide as Sanders rises to her feet, lifting a thrashing Ultimate Image to electric chair position. Kylie carries her cargo back a few steps, then falls forward, mega-hotshotting Dream’s throat across the uppermost cable. Lisa’s head snaps back violently and she staggers away from the impact, grasping at her reddening neck, rasping for air.
With Psy Ops chuckling below, Sanders, oblivious to the team’s more direct distraction, disregards the champs and chases after a wayward Dream.
The blonde grabs a shoulder and spins a rosy-faced Lisa to face her. She THUMPS a toe kick deep into Dream’s gut and slides alongside the brunette, the women pointed in opposite directions. The Hawkeye wraps her right arm around Lisa, pulling The Dream close to her hip. She adds her left, surrounding the gulping ivory midriff of the legend.
Summoning her remaining strength, the Platinum Pixie vaults Dream in a front flip and PLANTS her perfect opponent with a ring-rattling ride to the canvas courtesy her Child of the Corn gutwrench driver.
Child of the Corn ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=9UckX7ScRcY )
The seated Sanders allows the semi-conscious legend to bonelessly slide out of her grasp. Ky floats over to a back press pin for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
The Personification of Perfection reanimates enough to throw a shoulder weakly off the deck, surprising Ky.
With the Corps cheering her on, the tag champs apparently joining the Pixie’s fan club, at least for a night, Kylie scrapes what’s left of Lisa off the canvas. She lifts the flaccid, ivory-skinned frame of Dream. With a limp Lisa leaning against Sanders, Ky on her second wind, the Platinum Pixie slips an arm between the legs of the Ultimate Image and ‘hups’ Dream across her shoulders in a fireman’s carry.
Kylie’s neck bows slightly from the deadweight and the war she’s been through, but finishes the job, POUNDING Lisa into the thinly-sheathed floorboards with a crisp barrel roll leap to her left and a deathly Pleasant Valley Driver.
Pleasant Valley Driver ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=96YGwFdN9K8 ) :14
With the BOOM of the mat, Dream’s state is unconsciousness and when Kylie crawls to the wreckage of the brunette, the Hawkeye need only drape her body across the legendary debris for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THREEEE!
A smirking, satisfied set of tag champs nod along with Castle’s count and celebrate with a snarky high five as the Corps rise for an ovation of their beloved blonde.
Though Bex and Blassenville stuck their collective nose where it didn’t belong, Sanders’ troops are willing to look past the controversial intrusion and celebrate with Kylie as she rises, soaked in sweat, brushing back her silvery mop and raising her arms in triumph.
Unaware of Psy Ops’ meddling, Kylie is animated, hopping in excitement with a win she can put in her top ten. She climbs a corner and revels over a mixed response from the FAWNatics, the Dreamophiles not booing Ky but not applauding what they consider a tainted win.
As the champs move to the apron’s edge, Sanders drops from her perch and protectively hovers over a stirring Lisa.
“Well done, midget,” Clayton backhandedly compliments from the outside.
“You can thank us later,” Celia informs a confused Kylie.
“Just get the hell out of here,” Sanders offers back.
“An excellent idea, Pixie,” Blassenville says.
The titleholders head for the exit, Ky keeping the corner of one eye on them as they depart.
The rest of her attention is on a waking Dream whom she assists to a seated position, tapping a cheek lightly.
“You’re OK,” Sanders offers. “Great match.”
“Yeah,” a recovering Lisa responds, not much above a whisper. “But not I’m OK. And they won’t be.”
Lisa’s opponent for tonight is the Platinum Pixie herself, Kylie Sanders. She is a decorated veteran in her own right who shouldn’t be underestimated, whose presence unevens The Dream psychologically. Lisa’s done the hard work of becoming a better person than she was for most of her life, but she’s avoided most of those she victimized in her heelish days. She’s responsible for not one but TWO of Kylie’s lowest points; the fabled but infamous ‘Microphone Incident’ and the Reverse Gauntlet which an already weary Sanders was defeated and ‘Old Schooled’ by four of FAWN’s biggest bullies.
“We’ve moved past that,” Lisa assures herself nervously, hopping lightly on her toes to warm up, her skirt fluttering with the motion giving glimpses of her creamy thighs to any passerby rubbernecking. “Sure we’ve never actually talked about it, but we gave each other an understanding look. She went bad for a bit too, she gets it! Granted, I may be partly responsible for Kylie going down that path...”
Their latest tag match against each other didn’t help matters. Lisa tried her best to stay on the good girl wagon, but Sanders’s partner Cassava Onika stirred those sweet bad girl urges. The Bittersweet Symphony had been silent since she made her return, butt seeing the Buns of Mass Destruction up close was too tempting a target and now her hands are itching to play a tune. And Lisa remembers Kylie’s glutes paddle extremely well.
“Nope!” Lisa lightly slaps the sides of her face, “Get off that train of thought.” A backstage hand alerts her that the announcer’s about to bring her in, when he leaves she nods to herself, “We’re better as we are now. Perfectly Perfect.”
In the center of the ring, the besuited announcer projects into his microphone, “Our next match is scheduled for one fall with a thirty-minute time limit. Our first competitor…”
The lights go off in the arena and a chant for the resurrected Ultimate Image starts echoing in the darkness.
“LEE-SA! LEE-SA! LEE-SA!”
www.youtube.com/watch?v=EJC-_j3SnXk
A single beam breaks the gloom. Their volume rises in a crescendo along with the stirring rendition of O Fortuna. The industry icon appears, once more in the spotlight figuratively and literally.
LISA DREAM
Sins washed away, the crowd welcomes Dream with a resounding ovation, Lisa looking upon the masses with a serene smile.
“Hailing from New York, New York. Standing at five feet seven inches tall and weighing in at one hundred and fifteen pounds, she is the Personification of Perfection... LISA DREAM!”
The Dream is a reborn vision in white. A diaphanous pale miniskirt makes her appear an angel that escaped the demons imprisoning her to find redemption in the mortal realm. And for the Dreamophiles in the audience, everyone from the massive reaction, Lisa’s ivory legs are finally in view, perfection covered only to mid-thigh by the delicate skirt. Ankle boots and pads in white as well.
The Personification of Perfection strides down the ramp and aisle sending a chill down the spine of every Dreamer, there’s a small smattering of boos and jeers from the hardcore members of the Kylie Corps but they’re nearly drowned out by the outpouring of love. Dream nods to the cheers and ignores the detractor, comfortable enough to carefully offer her palm to slap extended hands.
Reaching the ring, the reincarnated legend ascends the ring steps. Lisa halts for a long look around the bowl, beaming under the adulation. She slips through the ropes and moves to the middle, bowing to the exalting crowd.
Her iconic music fades and the ring announcer takes up his duties.
“And her opponent…”
The announcer lets the words draw the requisite ear-splitting ovation from the FAWNatics, delaying his completion.
Behind the curtain, butterflies flutter in the former Girl Scout’s tummy.
Sure. She’d faced Lisa at AHE. But that was a tag match. Tonight, in an attempt to follow Cassava’s lead and get retribution for their team loss over the members of the Dream Team, Ky would face one of her nightmare makers alone.
They’d been respectful to each other before, during and after that match, but the amount of nervous energy created after hearing the intro of the Ultimate Image brings Ky back to the bad old days. The Pixie gulps hard as Cassava takes great pleasure in massaging her partner’s shoulders.
“You sure you don’t want me out there?” the Milk Chocolate Mauler whispers in her ear.
“No. If she’s out there without Heather, I can’t really take you along. Sorry.”
“I get it,” Cassava responds.
From beyond, the announcer, having milked all the drama, continues.
“Hailing from Pleasant Valley, Iowa; standing 5 feet 4 inches and weighing in at 115 pounds, the Platinum Pixie…KYLIE SANDERS!”
“It’s time.” Cassava adds.
“Sure is,” Sanders adds nervously.
And when the glorious, melodious and upbeat Sixpence None The Richer’s ‘There She Goes’ sweeps through the arena and the Corps roars to its collective feet, the FAWN original seems ready to go and pushes through.
( www.youtube.com/watch?v=tMfXeuv4kZE )
Moving to center stage, Kylie absorbs the crowd’s adulation, smiling and waving, the sight of their redeemed Pleasant Valley Princess eliciting rekindled love in the direction of the silvery-bobbed beauty.
KYLIE SANDERS
Drawing 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, Ky cups a hand to an ear, enjoying the chants of ‘KY-LEE’ that overwhelm her accompaniment.
( www.yandy.com/products/lets-mesh-around-bra-set )
A beaming Sanders walks the aisle, happy to slap hands with her fans, gazing with delight at a poster proclaiming “Lisa may be good as gold, but OUR GIRL’S PLATINUM!”.
Reaching the ring and climbing the steps, Ky takes a moment to gaze around the arena at the massive display of affection. Sanders salutes her supporters before slipping through the cables.
Moving to the middle, Ky nods at a patiently loitering Lisa, then turns to the hard cam and applauds the sellout crowd.
She mouths a “Thank you”, apparently happy not to address the Corps with a mic, particularly considering The Dream passed on the opportunity.
The veteran strides to the corner opposite the ‘perfect’ brunette, turns to face her legendary adversary, and uses the ropes on either side to stretch.
She’d let actions speak louder tonight.
Even if Lisa is truly walking the straight and narrow, The Dream would be leaving on that path after taking a loss, Ky focused on claiming one of the bigger victories of her fabled career.
The bell rings out triggering a small pop from the crowd but neither woman leaves their corner, Kylie and Lisa gauge each other from across the ring trying to see the next ten moves that are going to happen when they touch. The audience senses the tension and begin to yell out dualling chants, the Dreamophiles and the Kylie Corps are having a match of their own in the stand. Hopefully, it won’t turn physical.
KY-LEE! LEE-SA! KY-LEE! LEE-SA! KY-LEE! LEE-SA!.......
They’re spirits buoyed by their respective armies, Lisa and Kylie cautiously approach each other with palms out ready to break out in violence at any moment. They meet each other halfway across the canvas and engage in a quick one-squeeze handshake then break away, circling one another like territorial animals. The decorated veterans inch their way to what’s looking like a Test of Strength- Lisa shoots forward for an Elbow and Collar and Kylie backs a way?
Lisa raises an eyebrow as she tries to box the evading Girl Scout in while the fans look confused, Kylie usually throws herself into the fray no matter the odds. She doubts the platinum blonde has any fear of her foe given their catalogue of matches. Whatever’s going on, Kylie’s still maneuvering in a ready stance, so The Dream has to chalk it up to strategy.
“Feeling nervous, Ky?” Lisa asks as she cuts off an escape route and backs her into the ropes. Kylie seems to weigh her options before approaching with an Elbow and Collar. Lisa’s right there with her and steps in, and nearly falls over when Sanders melts from view and takes the brunette in a Waistlock from behind. She presses her cheek against Lisa’s back and grits her teeth with the effort to squeeze The Dream’s already dainty waist down another size. “Not at all, just trying out a different game plan.”
Lisa winces in discomfort and tries to stretch a leg into the ropes but gets dragged deeper into the ring. The taller Lightweight pokes and pries at the knot of hands grinding below her navel. Lisa bears lower looking for leverage and Kylie moves in sync like she's DFeam’s shadow. A subtle twitch in an index finger gives Lisa the opening she needs to break the grasp and spin on a boot to reverse the Waistlock.
People underestimate Dream’s strength because of her body type but those wiry arms are coiled steel. Sanders is having harder luck breaking Dream’s grasp, so she tries a different method. Overplaying the pain of the hug, Kylie slowly lowers onto a knee, when Lisa shifts her position to compensate she finds her head lassoed in a stiff Headlock that puts a crick in her neck.
Sanders works that Headlock like she’s like she’s twisting off the cap off a stubborn bottle of beer. Her reasonably small arms flex around the brunette’s skull as she wrenches the hold up and down, even hopping in place to add a bit of whiplash.
Since her personal epiphany, Lisa Dream has shed her narcissistic tendances, but Lisa has to draw the line at the image of the Personification of Perfection sporting cauliflower ears. She trades the Waistlock in for two handsy grips of Sanders hips, who doubles down on the Headlock so it doubles her rival over.
Sanders grins and pumps the hold, “What’s up, L? How’re you going to train Crofton if you tap to-Whuh!?” The Pleasant Valley Princess is a fish on a line, reeled back and up, ending on her shoulders as Dream drops and rolls in reverse. Referee Nick Castle swiftly lowers past Snaders kicking legs and squirming buttocks to count the pin.
ONE!
Kylie kicks out of the pin with a burst of neck and core strength but she’s not out of danger, the moment Kylie’s horizontal on the mat Lisa climbs aboard across Sanders’ chest in a Crossbody Cover.
ONE!
The Girl Scout shoves the Dream off and sits up urgently. Lisa doggedly keeps going for a quick pin and starts lifting the bobbed blonde by the ears in prelude to a Snapmare. Mid-rise Kylie snags her opponent by the left leg and takes Lisa down, seamlessly sliding into a cover of her own.
ONE!
Lisa bucks free, rolls onto her front and skitters out from under Sanders. The two rush to their feet, immediately adopting a wrestler’s crouch if the other attacks. The FAWNatics applaud the flurry of action as the two veterans stare each other down in a standoff. Lisa breaks the peace and charges into Sanders, taking her foe in an Elbow and Collar. She forces the blonde back step by step while grinding her forehead against Kylie’s.
“Crofton is doing great. You should consider taking someone under your wing. I know you and Jasmine didn’t end well but you weren’t at your best either…agh!”
Kylie uses a little trick she learned from Emily West. Allowing Dream to overpower her for a moment, Kylie lowers her head as she pulls down on Dream’s neck, bringing the taller woman’s eyes into her prickly, platinum hair. When Lisa flinches, Kylie takes control of the grapple and wheels around and bullies forward to put the ropes into her enemy’s back.
The PVP rocks Lisa’s sternum with a forearm shiver, then THUMPS her foe’s modest rack with a Knife-Edge Chop, prompting a WOOOO from the loyal Corps. Kylie points her shoulder and lashes out a second Chop but hits only air, The Dream sinking to a seat on the middle cable and springing off her toned rear to snake around the pint-sized fan favorite, taking Sanders by the waist and upending Kylie onto her shoulders once again!
ONE!
Kylie braces her hands against the canvas and sprouts into a handstand, escaping defeat and tumbling onto all fours. She pushes up with a fist at the ready but Lisa’s faster and gets her in a Front Facelock.
Commentators are expecting a Snap Suplex only to be surprised by the Ultimate Image when she weaves her lovely stems around Kylie’s middle for a Guilotine choke! The extra weight drags Sanders down, but she’s squirming for dear life to stop the Choke from latching tightly. There’s too much technique happening to rightly call it a ‘catball’ but that doesn’t stop the baser fans from chanting “CATFIGHT! CATFIGHT!”
All her scrambling bears fruit. Kylie tears her head free from Lisa’s grasp but she’s on her knees with The Dream’s legs compressing her sides like a living corset.
With Lisa lying before her, jaw clenched, perfect pearlies gritting, the brunette’s lower half elevated to keep the cinching scissors around the sides of the kneeling Sanders’ waist, a wincing Ky ignores the leg vice as best she can. Ky leans forward to deliver forearm smashes. With The Dream raising her forearms to protect her head, the Platinum Pixie hones in on Lisa’s chest, jugg mugging the Ultimate Image with several blows.
With Kylie’s head lowered to continue her attack, Dream gives up her guard and shoots her arms around the back of Ky’s head, then draws her close, again trying to secure a guillotine.
Sanders reacts quickly, pushing forward on her knees, stacking Lisa on her shoulders for the…
ONE…
TWO…
Dream’s forced to give up her grip above and scissors below to escape the pinfall.
Disconnected, blonde and brunette scramble to their feet, ending in semi-feral crouches, the legends ready to go after each other once more.
The tableaus of fabled fighters poised to strike draws a large ovation from the crowd, the supporters of each woman even more attuned to the special event they’re witnessing.
Inside, the icons throw their bodies at each other again, coming together in a collar-and-elbow, then working for leverage. Using her more compact frame, Ky scoots out of the tie-up, grabbing Lisa’s left wrist and sliding behind her. The Pixie ratchets Dream’s wing high in a painful hammerlock, eliciting a Dream move to tiptoes in hopes of lessening the pressure on her shoulder.
The Ultimate Image throws an elbow toward Sanders’ right temple to try and free herself, but Kylie dips under. She shoves Lisa but pulls her back like a yo-yo with the grip on her foe’s left wrist, THUMPING a short-arm clothesline across her chest. The Personification of Perfection is staggered but retains her verticality.
Kylie pounds a toe kick deep into the New Yorker’s belly, doubling over the legendary Lisa, Dream gasping for breath. Meanwhile, the Hawkeye spins and heads for the cables. She rebounds out of the rubber-coated steel and buries a shoulder, NEARLY CUTTING LISA IN HALF with a vicious spear. The Dream’s body folds around the charging Ky and the Iowan tackles Dream to the deck, Lisa ending sprawled in front of the Pixie, Sanders on all fours.
With Dream laid out before her, Kylie can’t pass on the opportunity at victory. She dives across the splayed Lisa in a crossbody pin, chest perpendicular to chest. Ky hooks the slightly raised far leg and folds The Dream atop her shoulders, flipping to a back press pin for the…
ONE…
TWO…
The once upon a time embodiment of narcissistic self-delusion now redeemed superstar shoves a shoulder up, forcefully pushing Sanders off. Still, Lisa’s left hugging her roiling tummy after, Kylie’s tackles among the harshest in the game pound for pound.
A rising Sanders tears Dream’s arms away from her ivory midriff. Ky quickly turns her back to the brunette and slips into a slight crouch, then launches in a nimble backflip to land a standing moonsault and test the battered abdomen of The Dream.
Standing Moonsault ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=8s-2FiiVYXM )
However, Lisa’s hundreds of matches across multiple federations leaves her with the ability to tap into a living database on every opponent and, even in her pained condition, she knows to get her knees up. As such, it’s the Hawkeye’s midriff skewered by Lisa’s bony caps when Ky splashes across them.
A bug-eyed Kylie rolls away from the balled Dream, it now the Pixie’s turn to embrace her aching abs.
Lisa pushes to a seat and watches Kylie moan breathlessly, an arm swaddling her own navel. Dream pushes to her knees and ‘walks’ toward the silvery-bobbed grappler. Perhaps unsurprisingly, Ky does the same, determined to not let the Ultimate Image take control.
The grapplers reach each other on their knees. They lean a forehead against the other.
“You’re not beating me again, Lisa,” Ky informs in a breathy wheeze.
“I beg to differ, Kylie. You’re tough but you have no answer for the perfect plan.”
The word ‘perfect’ coming from between Lisa’s lips sends a shiver down Sanders’ spine. The Pixie pushes back on Dream’s shoulders so there’s room between them and thrusts a forearm shiver at the brunette’s jaw.
Dream ducks under, the blow skidding over the top of Lisa’s dome. The Ultimate Image wraps an arm around the off-balance Sanders in a front facelock, rises to a crouch in the blink of an eye and SPIKES the crown of Kylie’s platinum pixie cut into the thinly-sheathed plywood with a kneeling DDT.
Kneeling DDT ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=6WGLIRiiPQU ) :03
Ky’s THUMPED into a momentary headstand from the precision of Lisa’s maneuver. Sanders finally tumbles to her back, out cold. Dream scrambles around her motionless foe to press tight in a crossbody pin, hooking the far leg for a perfect victory with the…
ONE…
TWO…
Kylie kicks a shoulder off the canvas, flopping to her side out of muscle memory.
Lisa shoves the shellshocked Sanders to her back and pushes to her feet.
“Let me show you how the legends do it,” Dream assures.
The Ultimate Image of Human Perfection skips over Kylie’s prone form and hops to the ropes to Sanders’ left. Landing on the middle cable and grasping the top, Lisa gracefully springboards in a backflip from the strands, the vision in white floating in an aerial somersault before SPLASHING across the Pixie’s open ivory midriff with her Dreamysault.
Dreamysault ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=8-rOycQdAPo )
Kylie’s hazel peepers bulge wide as she reflexively jackknifes under the impact of excellence.
Pin pre-made by her landing, Lisa hooks both limp legs of the Pleasant Valley Princess and holds on for the inevitable…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
Ky spasms a shoulder off the deck once more, The Dream looking disappointed but hardly surprised.
“Yeah. I figured,” Lisa whispers to herself. “Fair enough.”
Dream snatches what she can of the Hawkeye’s platinum pixie cut and tugs a mewling Sanders up with her.
“I got more if you do,” Lisa says as she pulls Sanders’ noggin into a side headlock.
“You don’t have half of what I do,” Ky huffs, wriggling to find some slack.
Dream breaks the hold of her own accord, spinning face to face and shoving Kylie on the shoulders. The shorter Sanders backpedals a few steps before regaining her balance. The Iowan immediately charges her likewise legendary foe with a clothesline drawn to remove a perfect head from perfect shoulders.
But Lisa pivots and locks elbows with the Hawkeye’s swing.
The Pixie is sent into a pirouette from the do-si-do with Dream and when Kylie turns to find her adversary, Lisa’s ready. The brunette skies into the air, laying out while snatching Kylie’s head in a ¾ facelock. The result is a Dreamy Cutter drawing a loud ‘OHHHH’ from the FAWNatics simultaneous to a gunshot like THUMP to the canvas, Kylie’s jaw jacked hard enough she’s sent flopping to her back in a spreadeagle.
Dreamy Cutter ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=5rxgsFQO3zI ) 4:53
Lisa gloriously kips to her feet over the demolished Pixie, the Dreamophiles metaphorically singing her praises, Kylie’s Corps silenced at the site of their insensate favorite.
Surmising Sanders might still have a kickout left in her, Lisa motions for Ky to waken and rise so she can collect a semi-conscious PVP and give Sanders a Day Dreamer she’d neither remember nor forget.
Kylie lumbers onto her hands with a groan and slowly gets her feet under her. Lisa’s lying in wait just outside the Iowan’s peripheral vision.
Despite her swirling vision and the warning each member of the Corps in the arena, Kylie woozily straightens, and Lisa shoots off like a bottle rocket!
The Dream materializes from the blonde’s 8 O’Clock and reaches across to loop her arm around Sanders’ head in a ¾ Facelock. Lisa lifts her right leg straight and high cueing the Dreamophiles to get ready to leap out of their chairs in victory, but it will be a dream denied!
Kylie wrenches Lisa’s arm off her skull pulls it behind the brunette and rips back Lisa’s other arm before she can turn around. Kylie tugs her unwilling opponent into circling her body forcing the back of Lisa’s head against the middle of the Princess’s back.
Kylie calls out over her shoulder, “Told ya!” and kicks out her legs. The pair fall to the mat in a blink and half the arena flinches at the awful Thump! of Lisa’s perfect face being sandwiched between Kylie and the ring floor.
PLEASANT VALLEY PLUMMET
youtu.be/_-sAVJIcb-k?t=1467
The Kylie Corps go nuts for their glorious leader pulling out a new move this late into her career. Lisa’s noggin hits the deck before her legs, so everyone sees the quiver that passes through her pale stems before they flop lifelessly on the canvas.
Knowing time is of the essence, Kylie moves quick as a whip to scooch over, and shove Lisa face up, then climb aboard into a full body cover. Cheek-to-cheek and breast-to-breast, Kylie pins Lisa’s wrists overhead and tries to will herself to be three times as heavy during the referee’s count.
ONE…
TWO…
NOOOOO!
The Dream gets a shoulder up with a full second to spare.
Kylie has a look of dismay. She could feel Lisa’s body give up on impact and was sure of it!
The PVP seems to realize she’ll just have to try harder.
Kylie drags Lisa up off the ring floor in stages, the vision in white looking shaky on her feet. She sends her dark-haired rival off to the corner with a strong Irish Whip. Lisa gallops with an unsteady gait, turning to hit the buckles with more force than spectators assumed the former Vanilla Chill possessed.
The Dream’s knees have had enough, and they buckle. Lisa drops on her perfect bum sending a shock up her tailbone. The New Yorker shuts her eyes and leans her head back with a groan. Kylie runs to the corner diagonal from her seated opponent and teases the Florida audience with a Bronco Buster by miming a lasso.
The uproar surrounding the ring as Kylie breaks into a sprint is a dead-heat between excited wrestling marks and FAWN ‘purists’ who don’t buy Gladiatrix for the articles. The Platinum Pixie takes to the air with her abbreviated stems out front some feet from Lisa and flies into a collision with her former enemy/not yet a friend. Kylie’s patootie pulverizes the pert chest of Lisa and rattles the ropes and her crotch clips The Dream’s chin when she pulls on the middle cables to raise for another butt bomb. The fickle fans, as always, count along with each bust of the bronco no matter who’s on the receiving end.
ONE! TWO! THERE! FOUR! FIVE! SIX! SEVEN! EIGHT! NINE! TEN!
Kylie rolls off her now flaccid foe and pops to standing. Instead of basking in the glow of the Corps, she breaks for the corner adjacent to Lisa and U-turns back to the Ultimate Image of Defeat at a faster pace. At the last moment before crashing, Kylie twists and blasts Lisa with a Hip attack to the side of her foe’s face!
Hip Attack ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=JWxNHCkLis0 )
Lisa’s top half careens over the bottom rope and Dream hangs over the cable like laundry. It’s heartbreaking for her legions to see her in such a state. Kylie struts out of the corner playfully slapping at her glute, then pointing to the top of the ramp alluding to the locker room. “For my Superfan!”
Eyes glued to a monitor broadcasting the match backstage, Cassava Onika jumps up and down in pure happiness. When her heroine struck that booty pop, The Superfan instinctively hugged the nearest person to her bosom, and she still hasn’t let go. Merle’s having a real up-and-down day.
Back inside the squared circle, Kylie pulls a ragdolled Dream by the ankles out of the corner and arranges her sister veteran in the perfect position to be a crashpad. The energized Iowan skips over the prone Personification of Perfection and hops onto the bottom ropes, Kylie looks over her shoulder double-checking the distance then springs off them to the top ropes, then launches into a not quite Sensational but still impressive Moonsault.
Lisa’s legs twitch but they’re too slow and Kylie hits her high-flying move with navel-to-navel accuracy. Lisa lets out a loud bellow like a blockage was removed and her limbs shoot up as her midsection is crushed by her past victim. Sanders grabs the far leg before it can fall back and hooks it DEEP. Referee Nick Castle slides in and slaps the canvas.
ONE….
TWO….
THREE!?!
The Kylie Corps erupt in happiness as their leader shoves to her feet and throws her fists in the air in elation “Yeaaah!!” A weight she didn't realize she was carrying falls away and Kylie lets out a happy sigh. she turns to offer her wrist to Castle and sees him crouching by Lisa shaking his head and pointing.
“She got the bottom rope. The pin doesn’t count.”
He’s right. Lisa has the cable in a death grip and is still shaking it to grab the official’s attention. Kylie turns pale and her stomach drops. She whips her gaze to the FAWNtron and the count replayed on the giant screen, seeing Lisa get the rope break just after the two count.
“Dammit!” Kylie curses and rubs her palms up her face, then pulling at her bobbed hair in exasperation.
She takes a calming breath as Lisa gets to her feet with the help of the turnbuckles and leans on them for support.
“Okay, we’re alright. Keep the momentum going.”
After the self-pep talk, Sanders marches and turns the limp Dream to face her. She gives the two-time World champ an Overhand Chop (Woooo!), and a Knife-Edge Chop (Woooo!), then pulls her into a secure Side Headlock.
Sanders breaks into a sprint with Dream in tow, halfway across the ring she sits out for a Running Bulldog yet finds herself held aloft by Lisa Dream! Gripping the smaller woman from behind by the thighs, Lisa lifts The Pixie higher and spins, giving the arena a great look at the glutes Kylie used as a weapon earlier, then drives her crotch onto a posted knee.
INVERTED ATOMIC DROP
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ddCF6X0rw5c
Kylie bounces off the joint with a pained squeal, getting a surprising amount of air, then falls flat on her face.
The Iowan tries to collect herself before Lisa can capitalize unaware the taller Lightweight has retreated into the ropes for a boost of speed. Kylie gets to her knees, then pushes to stand with one hand massaging her throbbing coccyx. She turns- Crack! and gets nailed in the face with a flying Back Elbow. Sanders drops like she was in a sniper’s crosshairs while Lisa looms above catching her breath.
With the splayed, glassy-eyed Sanders inviting Dream to cover with her stuporous visage, Lisa Legend takes the opportunity, diving across the flattend frame of the FAWN original in a lateral press, Lisa hooking the far leg for the…
ONE…
TWO…
Ky shoves a shoulder off the canvas, pivoting to her side to prevent another immediate pinfall attempt. Still smarting below, the Platinum Pixie massages her tailbone. Next to her, The Dream knee-walks to Kylie’s boot soles as the Hawkeye rolls to her chest.
Before Sanders can begin to rise, Lisa crosses Kylir’s slender ivory stems at the ankles, then shimmies her kneeling form up the Pixie’s frame to lock the lower limbs in place beneath her undercarriage.
Grabbing Ky’s left arm, Dream lifts and slips her head and torso under the wing, then snatches Kylie’s noggin in a crossface grip. With the Dreamy Stretch secure, the Ultimate Image works at shredding the blonde’s abs and cranking on her neck, focusing on submitting a woman notorious in her persistence.
Dreamy Stretch ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=GwQQod_g_7A )
Kylie howls in pain but refuses to say the magic word when Castle gives her a way out.
“Quit, Kylie!” Lisa demands. “Before I snap you!”
Sanders isn’t in a condition or position to do more than gurgle out something approximating ‘no’. Lisa continues to bear down, guessing the former Vanilla Chill must be close to the breaking point. But after another dozen seconds, still the Iowan won’t surrender, Lisa learning like countless before her Sanders could take a beating like few others in the organization’s history. Her own limbs beginning to spasm from overuse, Dream gives up her submission, removing her grip first.
The Pixie’s chest and head seep back in place, Kylie sighing deeply in relief. Digging her nails into the canvas, the grappler in black and gold pulls herself forward, slipping her crossed legs out from under Dream. Able to unfold the ‘X’ made of her lower limbs, Ky shakes out her stems and reaches the cables in front of her.
Grasping the rubber-coated steel, she uses the ropes to pull toward vertical. Behind her, the Personification of Perfection’s already there. She observes her decades-long counterpart with fascination. Her egomaniacal alter ego once called Ky the Perfect Pin Cushion and The Dream couldn’t deny the leather-clad version of Lisa her point. There was something about a cute-as-a-button Energizer Bunny taking the worst a better wrestler could dish out but keep going and going and going.
“I’m going to miss this,” Lisa says earnestly. But the words aren’t so sentimental Dream doesn’t follow up with a forearm smash to the jaw that rocks Sanders to the core. With the Pixie bent at the waist and wobbling, a hand on a knee, Lisa turns and sprints for the opposite strands. The brunette rebounds and NAILS Ky with a dropkick to the chest that sends Kylie tumbling between the top and middle cables. The Pixie crashes to the apron before flopping to the thinly-padded cement of the arena floor.
Sliding out after the puddled Sanders, Lisa places a palm on the crown of the Pixie’s skull after the Pleasant Valley Princess reaches her haunches, the blonde too dumbfounded to rise further.
The Dreamophiles roar for their converted Ultimate Image, Lisa inspired enough to turn in their direction and lift her arms high and wide, raising the volume of her supporters but also drawing a noticeable round of boos from the Corps.
Lisa’s attention is brought back to her main task when the Pixie balls a left fist and stuffs it into Lisa’s navel, drawing a grunt from The Dream. Lisa’s left set of fingers clench tight into the silvery bob of her adversary when Kylie THUMPS another punch into the legend’s tummy, faintly doubling the brunette, then fully doing so with a third, fourth and fifth slug.
With Lisa’s dark eyes bulging as she gasps for breath, the dogged Sanders uses Dream to pull up next to her foe, the Corps with something to cheer about.
Ky sinks her nails into Lisa’s dark locks and draws Dream’s head back as far as she can. The Pixie then throws the face of the Ultimate Image forward, BANGING Lisa’s flawless features into the hardest part of the ring. Dream’s head violently whiplashes away from the deck. A shellshocked Dream spins and falls into Kylie’s arms.
Her curled wings under the armpits of Lisa, Ky is the only thing keeping Dream from melting to the floor.
“I’m going to make sure you don’t miss it fondly,” Sanders growls, nose to nose with her adversary.
The Platinum Pixie turns her legendary foe and trundles Lisa back in under the bottom ropes.
Huffing, the blonde takes a little detour to avail herself of the ring steps. Instead of entering, Ky climbs the corner from the outside, reaching the penthouse in a crouch, looking down on the slowly ascending Dream. Waiting until the precise moment Lisa rotates in her direction, Sanders takes off, exploding out of her squat, employing as best she can Shea London’s long-ago instructions, delivered when Kylie was a little more than a rookie.
Soaring at not-quite-Sensational levels, abbreviated legs extended in front of her, Kylie STOMPS her boot soles into Lisa’s modest bosom with a Missile Dropkick. The impact sends Dream back-somersaulting across the canvas, skidding to a halt on her chest. Lisa winces as she absently turns to her back, an arm swaddling her bruised gurls.
When Ky kips to her feet, there’s an explosion of noisy admiration throughout the bowl, Sanders even claiming some of the Dreamers among those providing the ovation.
Kylie moves to a forward-facing standing straddle of the splayed Dream’s waist. With Lisa protecting topside, Ky launches into the air above her opponent and STOMPS both boot soles into the perfect midriff of the brunette. Lisa jackknifing around the impaling feet of the Pixie.
Sanders dismounts, rolling Dream to her chest with a kick to the ribs of the Ultimate Image. Ky drops to her haunches, DRIVING her taut, tiny backside into the base of the brunette’s spine. The Pixie dramatically raises her right hand high, fashioning it into a claw.
The FAWNatics immediately respond, shouting out ‘FARM…HAND!”
A smiling Kylie nods in agreement and sends her right set of talons digging DEEP into Lisa’s left hammy, clamping her delving digits into the muscle of Dream’s thigh with her infamous signature.
The Platinum Pixie works her famous grip into the nerve bundle at the juncture of hamstring and glute. As Lisa’s leg begins to spasm in response, Ky demands Castle ask Dream if she wants to end the match.
Perfect pearlies gritting in agony, the Ultimate Image grunts out a ‘Hell no’, at least until Ky digs even deeper into the meat and muscle, drawing a howl of anguish from the legend.
“You sure about that?” Sanders shouts over her shoulder and indeed Lisa’s open right palm hovers over the canvas, twitching, The Dream deciding whether to capitulate. But instead of tapping out, she digs her nails into the canvas and starts pulling herself, hand over fist, to the cables a few feet before her.
It takes an excruciating dozen seconds or more, but finally Lisa’s able to wrap a palm around the bottom rope. Dream screams for release and Kylie grants it after one final twist of her infamous hammy clamp.
The platinum blonde respectfully backs away, letting Dream steadily get to her feet with the help of the cables. Lisa leans heavily on her right stem because she can’t put too much weight on her left without feeling a pang, residuals from the Hammy Clamp.
“You need me to come over there?” Kylie asks with a slight rasp and her hands on her knees, the length of the match starting to become a factor. “Or do you want to call it night?”
“I’ll be fine, thank you.” Lisa answers taking the lack of a charge as respect and not overconfidence.
Tentatively testing her weight on her bad wheel, she ventures out away from the cables ready to grapple. But with a noticeable hitch in her giddy up.
Kylie matches her pace planning to kick into high gear when they make contact- Lisa puts on a rush of speed closing the gap and bicycles her knee towards Kylie’s face! The Pixie tilts her head and avoids a concussion-maker by a hair’s breadth and snares the attacking leg behind the knee. Encircling Lisa’s head before she can attempt an Enziguri and joining her hands, Sanders hauls The Dream overhead and rams her spine against the mat in a blindingly fast arc! It takes Merle a half second to realize Sanders has bridged to the max (toes pointed) and has The Dream’s shoulders down.
FISHERMAN’S SUPLEX
youtu.be/1_iYBNDMJIg?t=103
ONE…
TWO…
Lisa sputters to life and fights out of Kylie’s grasp. She turns onto a hip with eyes wide and a gasping breath, like she’s been dragged out of the ocean. The sweet relief of escaping defeat only lasts a moment. Kylie shows grim persistence and calculated viciousness by shoving Lisa face down and yanking her weak left leg nearly out of its socket with a Half Crab.
The Ultimate Image is facing an ultimatum, tap now or risk leaving on crutches.
“AAAAAAH! AIEEE!”
Lisa wails as Kylie inches higher up her back, the tip of the New Yorker’s boot dangerously close to making a perfect circle with the top of Lisa’s head. Weighing her options, Dream’s shaking hand hovers over the canvas as the Pleasant Valley Princess shouts “Tap Lisa! Just tap! It’s time for-!”
Kylie’s attention is drawn to a bubble of unease surfacing in the electric and divided crowd, dueling chants between the Dreamophiles and Kylie’s Corps making room for a wordless cry of alarm. Sanders scans the arena and sees the reason, technically two reasons. The Tag Champs!
BECKY CLAYTON
CELIA BLASSENVILLE
Psy Ops stands imposingly at the top of the ramp, tag title belts laying over a shoulder of each. The dual Destroyers stare down at the ring. It’s hard to tell from the fans’ perspective but Kylie senses they’re looking at Lisa, obviously still upset at The Dream Team’s intervention in the planned post-match ruination of their defeated challengers.
“They better keep their distance,” Sanders mutters, “I didn’t work this hard to lose by DQ- Hey!”
The appearance of the Doctor and the Soldier proves distracting enough for Sanders to weaken her lean on the submission, giving Lisa the slack she needs to fight out of the submission.
The brunette straightens her legs almost putting Kylie through a somersault, the Pixie hastily and awkwardly dismounts from her straddle, still gripping Lisa by an ankle and doubling up with her right leg when Perfection flips onto her chest and tries crawling toward a rope break.
Kylie sets her feet and tugs on Lisa’s legs hard enough for the veteran’s creamy legs to slide past her hips, making Lisa’s waist within reach, wrap her arms around with an S grip.
Kylie backs deeper into the ring with Dream fruitlessly reaching for ropes that grow farther away.
“I don’t think either of us saw this coming,” Kylie comments as she crouches a little lower, tensing her whole body for what’s to come.
“This is more Wendy’s deal.”
The PV Princess puts a lot of force into her hips to hup Lisa into a Wheelbarrow Suplex.
Sadly for the Corps, Lisa has a lot of tape on Wendy Smith too. The Dreamy One rears herself back with Sanders’ motion and pulls the blonde’s chin onto a shoulder the same time she swings out her perfect legs. Sanders is driven down by the change in weight distribution, Lisa lands on her toned cheeks, while Kylie’s rocked by a surprise stunner.
THE PERFECT COUNTER
youtu.be/Ee-EpkTTsiY?t=65
Kylie bounces away in comically flailing fashion from Lisa, her limbs moving of their own accord during her collapse to the mat. Lisa throws herself atop her exhausting and exhausted opponent, bundling both of Kylie’s legs under an arm to pack her into a tight ball of a cover.
ONE..
TWO…
T-NOOOO!!
The cover is undone!
Kylie explodes from under. The Dream rolls some feet away, chest up with belly heaving. Lisa gets onto a knee about to splash across Kylie for a second pinfall attempt when she notices the unwelcome newcomers.
“What the hell…?”
The Tag Team champions now stand at the base of the ramp having quietly closed the distance during the in-ring action. Celia and Becky’s faces are twin masks of disinterested menace, the latter giving Lisa mocking applause for her turnaround. Lisa’s eyes narrow and the adrenalin flows more freely with the presence of a new threat.
She looks over at the still gasping Corps leader, “I’m guessing you’re not about to reveal you’re the third woman of Psy Ops?”
Kylie groans on the mat “I don’t exactly fit the theme.” and raises a leveled hand above her head to indicate the significant difference in size between her and the intruders.
“Fair point.”
Dream stands, moves to her legal foe, and works her fingers into Kylie’s sweaty, silvery mop, pulls Sanders to her haunches.
The persistent Pixie fires a punch into Dream’s navel to force Lisa off, but eats a kneecap to the face for her trouble. And then a second, and then a third, and a fourth knee that turns Sanders’ body to jelly.
Lisa pulls a ragdolled Kylie to stooped feet and into a snug standing head scissors, then wraps her arms around the Iowan’s tummy to lift and turn her in the direction of the champs, pointing Kylie’s cute ass toward the dominant titleholders with a grudge against her.
With a hard look on her flawless features, Lisa makes eye contact with Becky and Celia, then slowly raises her flattened hands, the noise of the FAWNatics rising with them.
Will the Bittersweet Symphony be played tonight?
Perhaps inspired by wanting to show Kylie who’s better when both play above board, perhaps wanting to show Psy Ops what they had coming, Dream THWAPS her palms into Ky’s partially exposed backside, SPANKING the Pixie with meaty slaps. Lisa drums away at a rapid pace, note after note from her Symphony connecting in stinging succession. As the count grows, Kylie raises to tiptoes, yipping with each paddle of her patootie.
With the feeling of needles sticking into her bum from more than a dozen swats to each glute, Sanders sighs in relief as the rain of blows ends. The Dreamophiles roar with excitement at having the chance to see a glorious Symphony played by the maestro.
With her hands free after the conclusion of her opus, Lisa underhooks the limp arms of the Hawkeye, ready to conclude the contest with her Fallen Angel, the perfect package piledriver encore to a Bittersweet Symphony.
Fallen Angel ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=nJ7Eam95zFw ) :07
But before she shifts from underhooking Ky’s arms to scooping behind her knees and ending Sanders’ night, the Army of One Woman and the auburn-haired Psycho-iatrist hop to the apron, not ten feet from Dream, only slender strands of rubber-coated steel between them.
“You really need to go back in the hospital, Lisa,” Celia assures. “Trust me. It’s what’s best for everyone. Some quiet time back in your suite at Orlando General would do a world of good.”
Lisa Legend lets loose of her adversary, Kylie dropping to her haunches, a reprieve provided, the stay of match execution granted by the Cruel Clinician and her camouflaged counterpart.
Not about to be intimidated, Dream steps to the champs, Castle edging between when Lisa and Blassenville go nose to nose.
“You’re not going to take any more of my life from me,” Dream responds with a growl.
Celia lifts a pair of handcuffs with a steely smile.
“The wagon’s right outside. I can have you back in your accommodations within an hour.”
Flushing red, Lisa tries to dive over Nick and get her bared nails into the face of her former physician.
Fury unleashed, Celia and Bex drop to the floor, the Doc twirling her cuffs on an index finger, Clayton enjoying the insanity in the eyes of the Ultimate Image.
With Castle holding Dream from exiting and attacking, a clueless Kylie knee-walks forward, slips her head between Lisa’s thighs from behind and, risking yet another standing headscissors, curls her arms around The Dream’s lower limbs.
A startled Lisa’s dark eyes go wide as Sanders rises to her feet, lifting a thrashing Ultimate Image to electric chair position. Kylie carries her cargo back a few steps, then falls forward, mega-hotshotting Dream’s throat across the uppermost cable. Lisa’s head snaps back violently and she staggers away from the impact, grasping at her reddening neck, rasping for air.
With Psy Ops chuckling below, Sanders, oblivious to the team’s more direct distraction, disregards the champs and chases after a wayward Dream.
The blonde grabs a shoulder and spins a rosy-faced Lisa to face her. She THUMPS a toe kick deep into Dream’s gut and slides alongside the brunette, the women pointed in opposite directions. The Hawkeye wraps her right arm around Lisa, pulling The Dream close to her hip. She adds her left, surrounding the gulping ivory midriff of the legend.
Summoning her remaining strength, the Platinum Pixie vaults Dream in a front flip and PLANTS her perfect opponent with a ring-rattling ride to the canvas courtesy her Child of the Corn gutwrench driver.
Child of the Corn ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=9UckX7ScRcY )
The seated Sanders allows the semi-conscious legend to bonelessly slide out of her grasp. Ky floats over to a back press pin for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
The Personification of Perfection reanimates enough to throw a shoulder weakly off the deck, surprising Ky.
With the Corps cheering her on, the tag champs apparently joining the Pixie’s fan club, at least for a night, Kylie scrapes what’s left of Lisa off the canvas. She lifts the flaccid, ivory-skinned frame of Dream. With a limp Lisa leaning against Sanders, Ky on her second wind, the Platinum Pixie slips an arm between the legs of the Ultimate Image and ‘hups’ Dream across her shoulders in a fireman’s carry.
Kylie’s neck bows slightly from the deadweight and the war she’s been through, but finishes the job, POUNDING Lisa into the thinly-sheathed floorboards with a crisp barrel roll leap to her left and a deathly Pleasant Valley Driver.
Pleasant Valley Driver ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=96YGwFdN9K8 ) :14
With the BOOM of the mat, Dream’s state is unconsciousness and when Kylie crawls to the wreckage of the brunette, the Hawkeye need only drape her body across the legendary debris for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THREEEE!
A smirking, satisfied set of tag champs nod along with Castle’s count and celebrate with a snarky high five as the Corps rise for an ovation of their beloved blonde.
Though Bex and Blassenville stuck their collective nose where it didn’t belong, Sanders’ troops are willing to look past the controversial intrusion and celebrate with Kylie as she rises, soaked in sweat, brushing back her silvery mop and raising her arms in triumph.
Unaware of Psy Ops’ meddling, Kylie is animated, hopping in excitement with a win she can put in her top ten. She climbs a corner and revels over a mixed response from the FAWNatics, the Dreamophiles not booing Ky but not applauding what they consider a tainted win.
As the champs move to the apron’s edge, Sanders drops from her perch and protectively hovers over a stirring Lisa.
“Well done, midget,” Clayton backhandedly compliments from the outside.
“You can thank us later,” Celia informs a confused Kylie.
“Just get the hell out of here,” Sanders offers back.
“An excellent idea, Pixie,” Blassenville says.
The titleholders head for the exit, Ky keeping the corner of one eye on them as they depart.
The rest of her attention is on a waking Dream whom she assists to a seated position, tapping a cheek lightly.
“You’re OK,” Sanders offers. “Great match.”
“Yeah,” a recovering Lisa responds, not much above a whisper. “But not I’m OK. And they won’t be.”