Post by SammieSinclair on Feb 7, 2015 17:00:24 GMT
All of the evening’s disputes had been settled save one. And as was so often the case in FAWN, the biggest tab was to be settled last. Standing tall in the middle of the ring, the Announcer proclaimed, “Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall and it is for the FAWN World Championship! Introducing first, she is the challenger. Hailing from South Boston, Massachusetts, she stands five feet nine inches tall and weighs in this evening at one hundred and thirty-three pounds, she is one half of the reigning and defending Tag Team Champions, please welcome ROOOXXXAAANNNNNNEEE McccCCCRRIIIMMMMMMOOONNN!”
The unmistakable horn fanfare, appropriated from Bob & Earl, led directly into the House of Pain hip-hop classic ‘Jump Around‘. It took a hard soul NOT to become pumped--first by the music, and then by the sight of blonde that burst through the curtains at the start of the first verse, as enthusiastic as she was gorgeous.
ROXANNE McCRIMMON:
Touted as a big time player from the moment she’d joined the main roster, Roxanne McCrimmon had really come into her own since early last year when she and Becky Clayton had formed the BFG’s and proceeded to own the Tag Team ranks like the deed was in their back pocket. Their dominance had finally paid off in September when they’d knocked off the Valley Girls and cemented their reputation as FAWN’s hottest tag sensation. Tonight they’d split their attention for the first time in months and while things had not gone the greatest for Becky, Roxie remained utterly confident in her ability to claim FAWN’s greatest prize.
Too excited to linger more than a few seconds atop the stage, McCrimmon raced down to the ring, readily accepting the slaps and offered encouragement of the capacity crowd. The blonde's long, sculpted legs were left bared, save for white kneepads and boots, her upper body sheathed under a white number 34 Celtics jersey. Bounding up the steel steps, McCrimmon slipped through the ropes and headed toward her corner. Raising her right arm, Roxie followed the command of her anthem, jumping up and down--and beckoning the fans to do likewise with a wave of her hand. And a large portion of the crowd opted to play along.
Settling down, the blonde powerhouse grabbed the hem of her old school jersey and pulled it up and overhead to reveal a green one piece, her taut abs at full extension and bared by the broad shamrock-pattern cutout at her midsection. Of course said shamrock was partially obscured by the ten pounds of leather and gold that made up one half of the Tag Team Championships. Turning to the ropes, Roxie flung the garment off into the stands, where it disappeared amidst a sea of questing hands. Once that was done she snapped the belt clear of her waist and tossed it to head referee Nick Castle. Dropping from the corner with a quiet thump, McCrimmon stomped to the far corner and glared daggers at the curtain. The woman waiting on the other side was a mentor to the woman who’d come very close to breaking her spirit last year. Roxie meant to send the Raven a message through her Queen’s broken body and if doing so got her another big golden belt? Well that was just icing.
HANDLEBARS:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=waRtcBy_GMI
The crowd was still welcoming Roxie when the FAWN’tron went snowy with static and the light went out. It didn’t last long however. Accompanied by the plinking introduction to ’Handlebars’, a bank of spotlights illuminated the squared circle, transforming it into an eight by eight grid of black and white squares, the only chessboard worthy of the architect of FAWN’s grand design. When Jonny 5 reminded everyone he could ‘keep rhythm with no metronome, no metronome’ Emily West stepped through the curtain.
EMILY WEST:
Looking far less conflicted than she had at Season‘s Beatings, Emily stepped forward, reached to the small of her back and undid the clasp holding the World Title in place. This she raised overhead, a direct answer to the blonde who thought she could wear a title without the assistance of a partner. She was in the midst of staring McCrimmon down when the Announcer called, “And introducing her opponent, representing the Black Court, hailing from Dunwich Massachusetts, she stands at five feet four inches tall and weighs in tonight at one-hundred and twenty-two pounds. She is the One Hundredth Percentile, the Black Queen and the reigning and defending FAWN World Champion… EMILY WEST!”
For her first encounter with the remaining BFG, Emily wore a gleaming black corset with half a dozen tiny silver buttons that started just below her sternum and ended just above her navel. Below, the corset flowed seamlessly into a matching black skirt edged in delicate white lace. Traveling yet farther south (across perhaps three inches of exquisitely toned thigh) West’s strong legs were armored in black nylon stockings topped by more lace (albeit in black) and shiny black wrestling boots that reached to just below the knee. Her big match look was accessorized with flat black pads at elbow and knee and a completed by a wide choker done in black velvet. From this choker hung a small onyx pendant carved into the shape of Emily’s favorite chess piece.
Quite ready to claim the overmatched powerhouse‘s scalp for her trophy collection, Emily headed down the ramp and made straight for the steel steps, which she ascended without preamble. Standing on the edge of her game board, the Black Queen ran several dozen scenarios in the few seconds it took the canvas to regain its normal coloration. Then she slipped between the ropes and mounted the nearest corner. Pleased with the order she’d carved out of this ceaseless chaos, the Insidious Intellectual held the World Title aloft and tapped the faceplate three times.
I’m. So. Smart.
With each passing day it got harder to deny, especially after the savage dismissal of Kylie Sanders in December. Of course the FAWNatics knew damned well that West wasn’t the lesser of two evils and they sure as hell wouldn’t complain if Roxie whooped her ass tonight, Yet there was something about the Queen’s confidence that was reassuring and a great number of them had grown, if not happy about her reign, then at least tolerant of it. Emily seemed to sense this change in attitude because she smiled before hopping down from the corner. That smile got wider when she turned to face Roxanne McCrimmon. She’d held back at Season’s Beatings in the hopes of showing Kylie what it actually meant to be a World Champion. She had no such compulsion to spare McCrimmon’s mind. In fact, Emily thought she’d very much enjoy building on the groundwork Lenore had laid last year.
Bolstered by the resounding ‘B-F-G!’ chants from the crowd, Roxie McCrimmon made a beeline for the champion as soon as the bell sounded. Very much aware of the challenger’s momentum (both mentally and physically) Emily stood her ground until Roxie was close enough to lunge. Only then did she dip her upper body between the top and middle ropes. “Hold her back, please.” she said to Castle.
The fans booed vociferously and McCrimmon almost walked through the ref anyway but in the end Nick held her off. “Everybody gets one, Em.” he told the champion sternly. “Try that again and I’ll stand aside.”
Emily pulled herself out of the strands and smiled faintly. “I very much doubt that, Nicholas. And besides, it’s a moot point. I’ll only need one.”
“That’s what you think, honey.” Roxie was still stationed behind the ref, but it was clear she meant to resume her approach at any moment. “You’re gonna be begging for all the rope breaks you can get the first time I punch you in the mouth.”
West stepped out of her corner and raised both hands to just below shoulder level. “Interesting observation, Roxanne. I would’ve expected a more deferential tone, considering what befell you the last time you shared this ring with a member of the Black Court.” Emily’s smile grew wider as the Beantown Bombshell’s eyes narrowed to black slots. “Although perhaps I shouldn’t be surprised. Lenore tells me your approach to battle is as careless as your approach to parent--”
McCrimmon shoved the official aside and exploded toward the Black Queen, her right foot ascending in a wicked arc aimed directly at West’s face. Any other time and the Big Boot would’ve taken Emily’s head off at the chin, but getting around Castle cost Roxie the element of surprise and Emily pulled her head to the right, thus sending her attacker’s foot pistoning over her left shoulder. Seeking to neutralize McCrimmon’s power advantage as quickly as possible, West wrapped her arms around the blonde’s thigh, then pushed onto tiptoes and dropped to her knees. The pit of Roxie’s knee collided with the ball of the brunette’s knee, sending a jolt of pain all the way up to her hip.
It wasn’t enough to take McCrimmon off her feet but it slowed her down long enough for Emily to stand up and sweep her plant leg. Sliding back to better grip the ankle still in her possession, Emily stretched it out full length and fired two short, sharp kicks into the back of her foe’s right thigh. Then she stepped over and around like the beginnings of a Figure Four but rather than spin all the way through she dropped to her knees to torque the whole of McCrimmon’s lower leg.
Roxie snarled and sat up, meaning to grab hold of Emily’s hair or maybe just clout her upside the head, but the FAWN World jabbed a well-timed elbow into her sternum to send back empty handed. At least momentarily free of the blonde’s grasp, Emily got to her feet with Roxie’s ankle still in tow and snapped off three more kicks, making sure each dug deep into the dense meat just above the right knee.
Another spin and drop followed but this time West didn’t load her elbow in time to keep the Bostonian from snatching a handful of hair. Grimacing as McCrimmon wrenched her head back, Emily cupped both hands under the taller woman’s trapped foot and yanked up, putting tremendous pressure on her ankle. Roxie hissed in pain and replied with a brawny Forearm Smash that THWHAPPED across the back of Emily’s shoulders. “Let go of my ankle, girl.” McCrimmon demanded. “Or I’ll club you all the way to the back of the class.” She pounded Emily’s shoulders again to reinforce the point.
West had to admit, Roxie’s strength of shot was nothing short of impressive and under other circumstances there’s no way she would’ve allowed herself to stand there and take those blows. Tonight however she made no move to get to safety. Rather she pulled that much harder on Roxie’s ankle and pressed down with her knee, making it all the more uncomfortable. “Club all you like, Roxanne.” she grunted. “But my shoulders can endure more than your ankle and even if they couldn’t the law is on my side. Isn’t that right, Nicholas?”
It was, at least as long as the blonde was still tugging on her opponent’s hair. “She’s right, Roxie. Let go of her hair, please.”
McCrimmon mulled the order. “Mmmmhh, no, I don’t think so.” With that she walloped Em with one more Forearm Smash, then twined that hand into the brunette’s hair and YANKED her head back ‘n forth, clearly intending to make Emily relinquish control over her aching leg.
The Amazing Academic screeched her indignation and pain, but she maintained her tenacious ownership of Roxie’s foot until Castle reached ‘FOUR!’ on his count. Blessedly free of the taller woman’s talons, West made as if to rise, then dropped down once more, making sure a great deal of her weight landed just above the blonde’s ankle. The resultant burst of pain finally extricated McCrimmon’s leg from Emily’s control and she promptly pulled her knee up to her chest to better tend to the damage.
She’d had less than five seconds to tend to it when the Insidious Intellectual seized hold of her right ankle and straightened it out with a single convulsive YANK! Tucking the challenger’s right ankle into her left armpit, Emily dropped to the mat and in doing so threaded her legs around Roxie’s wounded gam. Ankles locked as soon as her butt touched the canvas, West made sure McCrimmon’s knee was trapped between her thighs and then squeeeeeeeeeeeezed down while simultaneously bending the helpless ankle.
Roxie shrieked once before biting it off with a ferocious ‘clack’ of her jaws, she was too damned proud to burn oxygen on a scream. She didn’t bother trying to squirm loose or pound at Emily’s encroaching thighs either, instead she twisted over onto her left side, dug her hands into the mat and started to drag her way toward the ropes. The Sensual Scholar didn’t try to stop her but she sure didn’t make the journey easy, that’s for certain. She tugged, wrenched, jostled and ground until Roxie crooked an arm over the bottom rope and bellowed, “BREAK! BREAK IT, I’M IN THE ROPES!”
Emily did as required without Nick’s prompting but only so he’d be a little more forgiving in his count when she scrambled into a hard mount atop the small of McCrimmon’s back. Paying back Roxie’s earlier tugging with some of her own, West twisted the big blonde’s head to one side and pressed down, forcing her face against the mat. “Kiss the canvas, Roxanne. Kiss it right now and I promise to leave you in peace when you slide under the bottom rope like a common New Yorker.”
Roxie wouldn’t have complied with the demand anyway, Em’s mention of the hated NYC only strengthened her resolve. “You’re gonna get off my right now, bytch.” she rasped. “And maybe, just MAYBE, I won’t make you eat every bit of this mat when the match is oveRMMMHH!”
Emily forced McCrimmon’s cheek against the rough surface, then leaned down so her lips were inches from the challenger’s ear. “Blondes are so cute when they’re spouting utter nonsense.” She pecked a kiss against Roxie’s cheek, pushed up off her mount and grabbed the top rope in both hands so she’d have better leverage when she shoveled the vulnerable vixen under the bottom rope with half a dozen stubby, nudging kicks.
The fall to the floor wasn’t particularly long or painful, but it was awkward in the extreme and Roxie couldn’t shake the idea that she’d been brushed from the ring, a place she thought of as a second home, like little more than a piece of garbage. Dismissing the thought with a low growl, she struggled to her feet and paced back n’ forth in an attempt to get the kinks out of her injured leg. Given West’s notorious mouth, she’d expected the Black Queen to narrate her every step, yet the leader of the Black Court remained oddly silent. It wasn’t until she looked to the squared circle that she understood why.
Emily wasn’t crowding the ropes or even sitting on the middle strand to offer her foe condescending passage. Rather she was seated cross-legged in the middle of the squared circle with her hands on her knees. More annoying still, the expression she wore managed to convey the idea that she was simultaneously amused by Roxie’s efforts and irritated at the blonde powerhouse for wasting her time.
Oh so eager to wipe that smirk off the champ’s face, McCrimmon grabbed the middle rope, pulled herself onto the apron and slipped back onto the field of contention in relatively short order. She’d expected the Black Queen to stand once she did, so imagine her irritation when Emily didn’t so much as twitch. Hands on her hips, Roxie locked eyes with the brunette and said, “You wanna get up, brainiac?”
West shrugged her shoulders slightly. “I see no particular reason to do so.”
Roxie grimaced. Getting smacked in the mouth was one thing, getting disrespected was another entirely. “Stand up right now or I’ll make sure you don’t until you leave the hospital.”
An ominous threat indeed, not that you’d know it by Emily’s reaction. “Really Roxanne, resorting to threats of physical violence so quickly? Perhaps Lenore WAS justified in her critiques of your parenting sty--”
Roxie rushed her and would’ve knocked the brunette’s head off with a low boot if West hadn’t propelled herself into a short tumble and ended up on one knee behind the exasperated challenger. Snatching McCrimmon’s right ankle before she had the chance to turn around, Emily yanked it out from under her, sending the Destroyer to the mat on her chin and chest. With Roxie’s size and strength temporarily negated, West planted her left foot atop the Bombshell’s left ankle, making it all but impossible to roll onto her back. Then she raised Roxie’s right leg high and tossed it down, THWHUMPING her knee into the canvas-sheathed plywood.
McCrimmon cursed and tried to pull loose, alas Emily’s ankle spiking precaution worked perfectly. Following another forceful Stump Puller, the Insidious Intellectual stepped over her blonde’s captured leg and neatly laid out atop Roxie’s back with her leg trapped at a painful angle between brunette thighs. Roxie knew an attempted STF when she saw one so she curled both arms over her head and tucked her chin against her chest to defend against the Facelock. It stymied West until the brunette curled her hands into claws and sank them into Roxie’s shoulders. Kneading and working the firm muscle like it was dough, the Queen only had to wait for McCrimmon to fight back. Once she did, she slipped her left arm over Roxie’s face and pulled back, wrenching her neck at a painful angle.
STF:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=VUWgIXMiaUE
“What do you say, Roxie?” Nick asked, reacting to the blonde’s groan of pain and embarrassment, “Do you want to give it up?”
“Surely not!” Emily answered for her even as she cranked back on the challenger’s noggin, thus offering the cameras an excellent view of her prey’s scooped neckline. “Why, Roxanne hasn’t landed so much as a single blow! What sort of message would it send if she surrendered so quickly?”
Roxie reached up with her right hand and grabbed hold of Emily’s wrist, hoping to prize the Crossface apart. “Let me go, Emily!”
The Sensual Scholar halved her grip for a moment, but only so she could grab Roxie by the hair for a good shake. “Make me, Roxanne.”
The challenger groaned in pain and embarrassment, to be so thoroughly schooled on the mat was nothing short of humiliating. Still, she wasn’t going to make it easy for the brunette. Setting her hands against the canvas, she pushed up as best she could and started to slide forward. “Trust me, I will. And when I do I’m going to LOVE wearing you out.”
“You’ll have to make me sweat first, cave girl.” Emily cooed. “ And right now that looks like a long sh--”
McCrimmon dragged herself into range and snatched the bottom rope in both hands. “BREAK THE HOLD!” she demanded. “RIGHT NOW!”
Emily released the Facelock without comment, though that was probably because she didn’t want to raise suspicions before she grabbed a double handful of hair and bounced the blonde’s head off the mat. Roxie wanted to defend herself but she didn’t let go of the ropes for fear of West dragging her out into deep water again. This turned out to be a valid concern as Emily STAMPED on the back of her right thigh, then took control of the ankle and started tugging.
While Roxie had no problems with Nick Castle or his officiating, she wasn’t quite sure she trusted him to pull Emily off in time, so she gathered her strength and twisted onto her back. Emily loosened her grip long enough to let McCrimmon make her adjustments, which turned out to be a mistake, as the Beantown Bombshell pulled both knees up to only a few inches below her chin. With the soles of her boots pressed against Emily’s vaunted rack, Roxie flashed her a wink and pistoned both feet forward as hard as she could. The Mule Kick was simple in the extreme, but it still raised a loud cheer from the FAWNatics when Emily went soaring halfway across the ring.
Scrambling to her feet while the thrum of West’s landing was still echoing through the canvas, Roxie started toward the brunette in hopes of catching her prone so of course Ems spoiled that by somersaulting onto her knees. The Amazing Academic pushed up and was off like a shot, coming straight for her blonde with the intention of -- Roxie jabbed out a hand and caught the champ by the throat. West instinctively grabbed for her wrist and McCrimmon let her, it meant there was no way for Emily to stop her when she stuffed her other hand into the smaller woman’s belly. Unpleasantly aware of a nasty twinge in her right knee, Roxie shunted it aside and muscled West high overhead in a flawless Military Press.
“SHE MAY BE A GENIUS!” McCrimmon bellowed to the resurgent crowd. “AND SHE MAY BE THE WORLD CHAMP, BUT SHE’LL NEVER DO THIS!” Roxie proceeded to bust out half a dozen reps with her wide-eyed opposition, but instead of merely dumping her to the canvas, the BFG dropped West across her shoulders in a Fireman’s Carry and immediately laid out on her left side to THWHONK the back of Emily’s head and shoulders into the mat with the Boston Massacre.
BOSTON MASSACRE @ 00:26
www.youtube.com/watch?v=fKw3UoKJcbI
Understandably galvanized by this turn of events, McCrimmon floated over into a Lateral Press and cradled the far leg tight while she counted along with the…
ONE!
TWO!!
Emily kicked out with authority, a stern reminder that it was going to take more than one powerful shot to end her reign. Lucky for Roxie, she had all manner of powerful shots in her arsenal. And after taking so much abuse (both physical and verbal) it didn’t take her long to pick one. Working her fingers into Emily’s hair, she got to her feet and forced West to do the same. The hair pull turned into a Muy Thai-style Neck Clasp before the ref could complain, not that Emily noticed the distinction when Roxie spiked a Kneelift into her tummy.
“Oh yeah, this is anybody’s game now,” McCrimmon noted with clear satisfaction in between tenderizing the shorter woman’s midsection. “Actually, that’s a lie. It’s MY game and we both know it.”
Switching over to a Chinlock to better control her foe’s head, Roxie twisted around in a half circle that put them both back to back with West’s neck angled awkwardly over her right shoulder. Though a Neckbreaker would’ve been perfectly welcome, McCrimmon twisted back the way she’d came and dropped to one knee in a smooth, sinuous motion that pulled Emily down into a THWHUNKING knee to face collision.
DR. TEETH:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=9O_d9xs3pEQ
Roxanne had seen scores of Destroyers end up flat on their backs after a visit to Dr. Teeth so she had to admit being a little impressed when West kept her legs, rubbery though they might’ve been. Still, mere resilience was no reason to show mercy, which was why the challenger rounded on one heel and sprinted at the ropes on the far side of the ring. Returning with a dangerous head of steam, the Beantown Bombshell cranked back her right arm, then whipped it forward to add even more emphasis to the Lariat that THWHACKED flush across Emily’s chest. Turned inside out by the walloping blow, West flipped over and landed in a prostrate sprawl just beside her opposition, McCrimmon having dropped to her knees with the force of the blow. Practically glowing at the thought of felling the Black Queen and claiming the World Title in a single stroke, Roxie shoveled the wounded champion onto her back and dropped down atop her chest in a miniature Splash. A hook of the leg later and Nick Castle swooped in to count…
LARIAT:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=vPOqPraf03U
ONE!
TWO!!
Emily shot an arm into the air to delay McCrimmon’s coronation for at least another three seconds. Roxie showed three fingers to the official, muttered a curse when he offered two in return. Even so, she forced herself to quash that little seed of frustration in the pit of her stomach. Frustration led to mistakes and mistakes led to upsets, as that Sanders bytch had so ably demonstrated to Becky earlier in the evening. With that in mind she buried a hand in Emily’s hair and hauled her to a seat. Roxie stood up immediately thereafter but West did not join her in verticality. Rather the blonde stepped around behind her foe and switched the hair-hold for a more zebra-friendly Chinlock.
Pulling Em’s head back so the base of it was nestled in the pit of her stomach, McCrimmon looked down and smiled. “Know the old phrase, ‘everyone’s got a plan until they get punched in the mouth’? Well, I hope you have a lot of plans.” Roxie was still smiling when she brought her right arm down and in to THWHAP the inside of her forearm against the side of West’s face. Emily jolted and started to roll to all fours but the blonde reapplied the Chinlock and pulled her back to square one. Half a dozen more cudgeling shots followed, each one eliciting a little less resistance than the one before. And that was exactly the point. It wasn’t pretty and it wasn’t innovative, but Roxie didn’t need either of those. She just needed the wits and wiles pounded out of that dangerous brain long enough to make her FAWN’s newest double champion.
CROSSFACE PUNCHES:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=dC7EacHOoJA
When McCrimmon grew tired of the game she allowed Emily to twist away onto her hands and knees. Didn’t make it much farther than that though, as the Shamrock Stunner circled around and pulled the Courtier into a Standing Headscissors. “FAWN’s had just about enough of your evil genius shtick, Emily.” Roxie explained as she slipped her arms under the brunette’s biceps in a Double Underhook. “They’re ready for a World Champion they actually WANT to see.”
Emily was in no place to argue the point and even if she had been, McCrimmon had no intention of listening. Feet set and knees bent, she hoisted the smaller woman off the mat and up onto her shoulders. Transitioning to a more traditional Waistlock in the split-second she gave Emily to think about it, Roxanne slung her burden forward and down, just PLANTING the Amazing Academic in the middle of the ring with a scintillating Double Underhook Powerbomb. Emily’s legs flew up on impact, so McCrimmon palmed her calves and leaned forward, folding her in half with a Matchbook good for…
DOUBLE UNDERHOOK POWERBOMB:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=mgi-ilTsLLU
ONE!
TWO!!
THRNOOOO!!!
West slopped loose again and McCrimmon didn’t bother to hide her sigh of disgust. “I’ll give you credit, Emily. You’re scary smart and freakin’ tough for mean-spirited little chess club nerd. But this is my time and you’re going to need more than that if you want to beat me.”
Very much aware of the risk she was taking, Emily rose up on her knees and flipped hair off her face. Offering the challenger a sick smile, she asked, “It’s your time to what, exactly, Roxanne? Be the World Champion? Or a fit mother? Because from what I can tell you’re not ready for NNNNGGGHHHH!”
Roxie lashed out with her right foot and never mind the bolt of pain that shot from knee to hip when her heel connected with the Black Queen’s forehead. “Damn, and I thought Lemarchand was a bytch. No wonder those assholes made you their leader.”
No smart remarks from West this time (or any remarks for that matter) so the Beantown Bombshell scraped her up with a double handful of hair and marched her to the nearest corner. Roxie BWUUUNGED the brunette’s aching head off the top turnbuckle three times in rapid succession and probably would’ve kept at it if not for the presence of the referee, who would’ve surely would’ve ushered them out of the corner after a few more brain-rattling impacts. In no mood to stop doling out head trauma, McCrimmon spun the battered champion around and stuffed her in against the corner. Roxie put a hand against Emily’s chin and pressed forward, stretching her neck at an odd angle.
The thought of delivering another warning crossed her mind, but disappeared just as quickly. If West hadn’t learned by now, she wasn’t going to smarten up until the gold was strapped around the blonde’s waist. Thusly she mounted the middle rope, grabbed a huge hank of hair and pulled Emily’s head back, exposing her forehead. Right hand cocked and ready, Roxie muttered, “I came here to win a title. Now I’m going to win a title and beat you bloody in the process.”
Her fist spiked down and PWAAAKED Emily’s noggin to earn a loud ‘ONE!’ from those assembled. Another quickly followed and the FAWNatics kept a tally, their voices growing louder in time with the rising count. ‘TWO! THREE! FOUR! FIVE! SIX! SEVEN! EIGHT! NINE! TEN!” Roxie palmed West’s face in her hands, hopped down from the mount and THUNKED a Headbutt between her eyes.
Emily’s legs gave out and she dropped to her tush with one arm draped over the bottom rope and the other pressed to her battered features. The positioning earned several calls for a Stink Face from those in the first few rows and while it was tempting, Roxie had a better idea. Strutting away from the smoldering brunette wreckage, she leaned over and peeled down her left kneepad.
“I’ll be honest guys.” McCrimmon told the fans. “That chick doesn’t deserve to have her ass in my face. My KNEE however…”
With most eyes on the redlining challenger, very few were paying attention to the floundering champion, but those that did saw Emily fiddling with something just behind her head. Even fewer recognized what she was doing and their warning cries were completely lost in an uproarious cheer when Roxie raced across the ring. Blissfully unaware of the trouble awaiting her arrival, McCrimmon charged into the corner and whipped her bare left knee straight at Emily’s temp-- West jerked her head to the side and Roxie’s knee SLAMMED into the glittering steel ring that was usually armored in a turnbuckle pad.
Shrieking with pain, McCrimmon stumbled back, wheeled around and collapsed onto her side, just the sort of distraction Emily needed to slip the pad back into its proper place. Once she’d swept the crime scene clean, West clambered to boot leather and stalked out to where Roxie was still wailing to Nick Castle. “Does Ms. McCrimmon wish to surrender, Nicholas?” Emily asked with ice in her voice.
The ref shook his head ‘no’. “She says she’s good.”
“Understood. Then step aside, please.”
Those were the rules that Castle lived and died by, so he made no protest when Emily snatched hold of Roxie’s left ankle and stretched her leg out with a savage jerk. Positioning herself off to the challenger’s left, West kicked her right leg over the aching limb, then dropped to her butt. Now bringing her leg to bear across the side of McCrimmon’s sore knee was unpleasant enough, but it got downright unbearable when the Black Queen tied Roxie’s legs around her encroaching shin in a sort of sideways Figure Four. From there she pushed to her feet and surveyed the crowd even as her grounded opponent struggled against the gammy knot. After a moment she raised her right hand and tapped an index finger against her temple once, twice, thrice.
I’m. So. Smart.
Then she arched backward into a high, slow motion bridge that was as pretty to look at as it was ugly on Roxie’s poor knees.
BRIDGING INDIAN DEATHLOCK:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=zSVhUb-_FPU
Jaw clenched, eyes shut tight, McCrimmon buried both hands in her hair and pulled until she felt tracks on her cheeks. She didn’t scream though and that was all that mattered. Lenore had made her scream at the top of her lungs once and the Beantown Bombshell wasn’t about to offer the same gift to Lemarchand’s patron bytch. Even so, defiance could only last so long without meaningful resistance, so the grounded blonde rocked from side to side with the idea of upsetting Emily’s balance. It seemed to work at first, certainly the fires in her knees lessened noticeably. But then West dropped her hips and bridged up all the higher, cranking the pain well past eleven.
Roxie sucked in an anguished little breath when she realized her left hand was free and hovering mutinously above the canvas. Thankfully the FAWNatics bolstered her with a loud ‘PLEASE DON’T TAP!’ chant.
“Yes, by all means, refuse the sensible solution.” Emily said after a few more seconds. “Blow your knees out in the face of inevitable defeat and career altering injury. Perhaps you’ll make a better invalid stay at home mom than an ambulatory, absentee onNNNNGGGHHH!”
Roxie sat up like a zombie, locked both hands into a Double Axehandle and drove it deep into the pit of West’s stomach. The bridge gave way at once, not that its collapse stopped McCrimmon from pounding away on opposing tummy. Indeed she only broke it off when Emily cinched down on the Deathlock one last time. Angered by what she saw as mindless defiance in the face of obvious logic, the Black Queen relinquished her hold and scooted around to collect a double handful of hair.
“I’ve never subscribed to the theory of knocking some sense into someone.” Emily explained while lifting the challenger to a pained, knock-kneed verticality. “But you are from Boston, it’s not like I could knock some sense OUT of you.”
Wedging Roxie’s head under her left arm, West slipped her hands under the taller woman’s biceps and locked them between her shoulders. Double Underhook secure, she snapped back and laid out to THWHONK McCrimmon’s forehead to the canvas with an excellent DDT. Roxie bounced at full speed, then proceeded to roll over in a sort of delirious slow motion and not even her most ardent supporters were surprised when she made no move to keep Emily off her chest. The Malefic Malengine hooked her blonde’s far leg and cradled it tight, making sure Roxie was shoulders down / ass up for a brisk…
DOUBLE UNDERHOOK DDT:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=oPVZSCwLSZ4
ONE!
TWO!!
THRENOOOOOOOO!!!
McCrimmon raised a shoulder by the slimmest of margins, prompting cheers from those assembled and an eye roll from Emily. “Very well, Roxanne. You have asked for no quarter and thus I will offer you none.”
On those ominous words she grabbed a huge hank of hair and got to her feet, all the better to make the challenger do the same. A sharp little kick to Roxie’s left knee almost brought her down, but a timely Front Facelock from the World Champion kept her at least sort of upright. Slinging McCrimmon’s near arm across her shoulders, Em helped herself to some waistband, then gathered her reserves and-- Roxie twined a leg around West’s calf to block what was almost surely a Cerebral Hemorrhage. Em muttered something that sounded like ‘southies’, slipped free of the blonde’s desperate defense and set her again. The second attempt never came because Roxie chose that particular moment to shriek, quite loudly in fact.
This was no cry of anguish or defeat, rather it was the infuriated bellow of warrior digging into the deepest depths of her reserves. Lifting the Amazing Academic all the way to high noon in direct defiance of her aching knees, the Shamrock Stunner held her prey aloft for three long seconds before she tossed her into a short freefall that ended with West THWHAMMING down on her face, chest and belly.
RELEASE GOURDBUSTER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=zf6p-Y_R12A
Roxie staggered forward in search of a pin only to change plans on the fly when Emily popped to her feet. Far from a miraculous recovery, the brunette’s hands were pressed tight around her nose, so she didn’t notice McCrimmon’s approach until the wounded blonde lowered a shoulder and buried it in her midsection. Wrapping her arms around West’s weight for support as much as control, Roxie kept on full steam ahead until Em’s BWUUUNGED against the closest turnbuckle.
Vaguely aware that her knees didn’t hurt at the moment, the blonde powerhouse took command of the middle rope and reared back for not one, not two, but three gut-churning Shoulderblocks to Emily’s defenseless abs. There would’ve been more if she didn’t have to worry about the ref pulling her loose. Since she did, McCrimmon straightened up and moved onto something bigger and nastier.
“I’m throwing a New Champion Party later, and I’m afraid you’re not invited.” the Beantown Bombshell huffed while threading Emily’s arms over the top rope. “Don’t feel left out though. I’m throwing a Violence Party right now, and you’re the guest of honor.”
CRAAACK!
Roxie lit up the champ’s decolletage with a snappy Knife-Edge Chop that transitioned into a Forearm Smash quite nicely. The pair of strikes looped into itself four times before segueing into a series of Headbutts delivered squarely between West’s eyes. Roxie usually took the party out of the corner once it was in full swing but tonight she kept it confined to the buckles to ensure Emily had nowhere to go. This meant a second round of Chops and Forearm Smashes interspersed with some vicious Kneelifts and even the occasional European Uppercut.
Of course keeping it confined to the corner meant the fuzz was bound to show up sooner or later and sure enough, Nick Castle hurried up just as Roxie really found her groove. “Enough of the mugging, Rox. If you wanna finish her off, do it in the middle of the ring.”
Roxie stopped hitting, put both hands against Emily’s chin and pushed hard. Then she looked at Castle and grunted, “Yeah, I’ll finish her there. But it STARTS here.”
More than happy to take the wicked festivities to the upper floors, McCrimmon pulled her brunette into a Front Facelock and pulled her out just enough to swing into her old spot. From there she boosted herself into a seat on the top turnbuckle and bore down on Em’s noggin. “You better hope Lemarchand’s as smart as you say she is.” the blonde growled. “Because it’s going to take another genius to put your head back together.”
Urged on by a capacity crowd, McCrimmon pushed off the second rope, swung around in a smooth circle and… swung right back to start because Emily hooked her behind the knees. Still mired in the challenger’s Facelock, Emily took possession of Roxie’s feet and slipped them behind the second rope, so that her ankles were knocked against the rubber-coated steel.
That was about the time Roxie regained her bearings, so West sent them reeling again by POUNDING her fists into the sides of McCrimmon’s knees. Roxie howled and abandoned the Facelock, which allowed Emily to stand up and shove the Bostonian as hard as she could. The FAWNatics let out a horrified gasp as Roxie tumbled toward what looked like a headfirst landing on the floor. Only when she bounced to a stop did they realize the savage brilliance of Emily’s tactic. With Roxie’s ankles trapped behind the middle strand, her knees were folded tight over the top and all her weight pulled down on the aching, brutalized joints.
Now Roxie did scream, a pealing, pain-maddened carillon that made everyone within the sound of it feel like wailing along with her. Everyone save Emily that is, the Black Queen merely climbed to the middle turnbuckle and planted one foot atop McCrimmon’s left knee to make the predicament that much more unbearable. Genuinely startled by the champ’s cruel creativity, Nick shook off his stupor after a moment and barked, “In the ring or out, I don’t care Emily, but get her off the damned ropes!”
West nodded, leaned down and hooked a hand into the bottom edge of the shamrock cut-out over her foe’s midsection. Properly anchored, she stepped down to the canvas and hoisted the hobbled blonde into her prior seat on the top turnbuckle. Emily stood there observing her, cycling through myriad options that all led to the same endgame. One crossed her mind and was almost discarded before the champ gave it second consideration. Deciding it could prove both entertaining and enlightening, she asked McCrimmon, “You know that old chestnut about not knowing one’s own strength? Well I believe I do, or at least I did up until I started weight training with The Three. While I’ll never be able to replicate their feats, there’s something I’ve been wanting to check off my professional bucket list for as long as I can remember. And since you’re in no position to object…”
The Sensual Scholar stepped forward and pressed her right hand to Roxie’s tummy while the left braced against her chest. Pretty features stern with concentration and exertion, Emily dipped her knees and-- the FAWNatics let out a surprised roar as West stepped away from the corner with Roxie held overhead in a startlingly strong Military Press. Emily smiled even though the burn in her biceps started almost immediately. “I must admit, this is extremely gratifying.” she huffed. “Yet something tells me I’ll enjoy this even more.” Moving as quickly as she could, West tottered to the edge of the squared circle and dumped the Beantown Bombshell over the top rope.
The arena seemed to suck in a gasp as Roxie plummeted to the floor, meaning it sounded all the louder when she THWHUMPED against the thinly-sheathed concrete. “JESUS, EMILY!” Castle rushed the ropes and looked over, genuinely concerned at what he might find. It wasn’t as bad as he’d hoped, but it sure as hell wasn’t great either. Roxie must’ve hit squarely on her right side because she’d rolled onto her left hip and was clutching her shoulder and knee in equal measure. Feeling like the world’s most insufferable prick, the ref called, “Can you go on, Roxie? If you want the bell, just say so and it’s yours.”
Roxie didn’t look up at him, but she didn’t waste any time shaking her head ‘no’. “Start the count, zebra. I’ll beat it.”
So Nick did.
For all of McCrimmon’s bold talk the official reached ‘TEN!’ without any real progress from the challenger. It wasn’t until lucky ‘THIRTEEN!’ that she made it to all fours. At ‘SIXTEEN!’ she rose, but her knees gave out and the crowd groaned, disheartened by the very real threat of a count out. Castle was all the way to ‘NINETEEN!’ when Roxie sprang to verticality and dove under the bottom rope with perhaps a half second to spare.
Breathing a huge sigh of relief, the Shamrock Stunner pushed to her hands and knees and THWHACK! Emily stepped in from the left and damn near took Roxie’s head off with a Soccer Kick that connected with the side of her foe’s face. Knocked halfway to dreamland by the concussive blow, McCrimmon tumbled onto her back and pooled out in a defenseless starfish.
SOCCER KICK:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=6aBfHfW9uzo
Emily looked over her work and knew that checkmate had come. Given the blonde’s near dead weight it would’ve been impractical to get her up for the Hemorrhage and she wasn’t aware enough to really learn anything from the Mind Over Matter, so that left the third option. Looping around above Roxie’s head, Emily twined her fingers in the blonde’s hair and ever so slowly dragged her to her knees.
“Your strength has failed you, Roxanne. Just as it failed Margaret.” West told the shiny-faced battler. “Should you wish to challenge me again, I would request that you come to the ring with a better stratagem than ‘me big and strong!’ As you’ll see, size and strength mean very little when there’s no room to maneuver.” Case in point, the Black Queen wrapped her right arm around Roxie’s neck and cupped her left elbow for extra leverage. Palming the back of the blonde’s head in her left hand, pulled Roxie’s pain-slack face deep into the sweltering furnace of her cleavage.
The fog roiling between McCrimmon’s ears thinned when her air was cut off, but only enough for her to realize something was amiss. Squirming fitfully, she pushed at West’s hips, then at her biceps, neither of which budged in the slightest. “MMMRRRPPPHHHHH!” she squealed, the desperation in her tone clear even through the muffler of Emily’s rack.
‘Don’t fight it, dear.” Emily lowered her head to lay a cheek atop the Bostonian’s sweat-damp skull. “Your fight is over for the night. Better to accept that and prepare yourself for the next game instead of wasting more energy on pointless resisttWHOOOAAAH!”
Incredulous cheers from the FAWNatics when McCrimmon wrapped her arms around Emily’s waist and powered to boot-leather. Though she was blind, breathless and practically legless, that didn’t stop Roxie from staggering toward what she hoped was either a corner or the ropes.
Frankly amazed and yes, impressed by the suffering woman’s resilience, Emily allowed her to make it perhaps three or four steps before she brought her legs up and wrapped them around McCrimmon’s hips. Ankles locked, Emily CRUSHED down on the Scissors and yanked the Front Sleeper this way and that. Roxie tried her hardest to stay vertical, but the pressure around her waist combined with the shortness of breath combined with her demolished knees proved too much and she sank to the mat amidst moans from the fans. Confident she could predict Roxie’s remaining consciousness by the feel of blonde breath against her chest, Emily rolled onto her back and pulled McCrimmon along for the ride. “Go to sleep, Roxanne.” she murmured. “There’s no shame in losing to the--”
Roxie flattened her right hand into a loose paddle and tapped Emily’s shoulder three times. West shrugged as the bell sounded. “No shame in admitting you’re beaten either.”
The Announcer confirmed as much a moment later. “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner via submission and STILL the FAWN World Champion… EMILY WEST!”
The Amazing Academic released her hooks and pushed the blonde onto her back with a satisfied little sigh. Rather than get to her feet, she rolled over onto McCrimmon’s waist and slid up until the center of her trunks was brushing against Roxie’s chin. Emily didn’t move to smother her opposition but she forced scalding eye contact and that was somehow worse. “That’s two submissions now, Roxanne. How many more times do you have to bend the knee to the Court to realize you’d be better off on our side?”
Roxie couldn’t shake her head, Emily’s thighs were pressed too closely against her cheeks. “Not to you.” she whispered. “Never to you.”
Emily smiled faintly. “Whatever you say, Roxanne. Just know I won’t hold it against you when you do bend the knee. I am a benevolent ruler, whether you believe it or not.” Roxie bit her bottom lip to keep quiet so Emily stood up and let Castle raise her hand. He handed her the belt shortly thereafter and West slung it over one shoulder. “And so another would-be queen is reduced to a pawn. Removed from the board until such time she is deemed fit to return to the proceedings. In the meantime, I hope you other pawns think long and hard about who to send forward next. This spirit of generosity I’m feeling can’t last. And when it runs out… I fear for the woman on the other side of this ring.”
With her reign secure for another night, Emily West set off on a stroll around the squared circle, making sure to stop at every corner to show off the gold she’d denied Roxanne McCrimmon. Eventually she slipped through the ropes and headed up the ramp, leaving the crowd to wonder just who might have a chance at taking down the most dangerous monarch in FAWN’s recent history.
The unmistakable horn fanfare, appropriated from Bob & Earl, led directly into the House of Pain hip-hop classic ‘Jump Around‘. It took a hard soul NOT to become pumped--first by the music, and then by the sight of blonde that burst through the curtains at the start of the first verse, as enthusiastic as she was gorgeous.
ROXANNE McCRIMMON:
Touted as a big time player from the moment she’d joined the main roster, Roxanne McCrimmon had really come into her own since early last year when she and Becky Clayton had formed the BFG’s and proceeded to own the Tag Team ranks like the deed was in their back pocket. Their dominance had finally paid off in September when they’d knocked off the Valley Girls and cemented their reputation as FAWN’s hottest tag sensation. Tonight they’d split their attention for the first time in months and while things had not gone the greatest for Becky, Roxie remained utterly confident in her ability to claim FAWN’s greatest prize.
Too excited to linger more than a few seconds atop the stage, McCrimmon raced down to the ring, readily accepting the slaps and offered encouragement of the capacity crowd. The blonde's long, sculpted legs were left bared, save for white kneepads and boots, her upper body sheathed under a white number 34 Celtics jersey. Bounding up the steel steps, McCrimmon slipped through the ropes and headed toward her corner. Raising her right arm, Roxie followed the command of her anthem, jumping up and down--and beckoning the fans to do likewise with a wave of her hand. And a large portion of the crowd opted to play along.
Settling down, the blonde powerhouse grabbed the hem of her old school jersey and pulled it up and overhead to reveal a green one piece, her taut abs at full extension and bared by the broad shamrock-pattern cutout at her midsection. Of course said shamrock was partially obscured by the ten pounds of leather and gold that made up one half of the Tag Team Championships. Turning to the ropes, Roxie flung the garment off into the stands, where it disappeared amidst a sea of questing hands. Once that was done she snapped the belt clear of her waist and tossed it to head referee Nick Castle. Dropping from the corner with a quiet thump, McCrimmon stomped to the far corner and glared daggers at the curtain. The woman waiting on the other side was a mentor to the woman who’d come very close to breaking her spirit last year. Roxie meant to send the Raven a message through her Queen’s broken body and if doing so got her another big golden belt? Well that was just icing.
HANDLEBARS:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=waRtcBy_GMI
The crowd was still welcoming Roxie when the FAWN’tron went snowy with static and the light went out. It didn’t last long however. Accompanied by the plinking introduction to ’Handlebars’, a bank of spotlights illuminated the squared circle, transforming it into an eight by eight grid of black and white squares, the only chessboard worthy of the architect of FAWN’s grand design. When Jonny 5 reminded everyone he could ‘keep rhythm with no metronome, no metronome’ Emily West stepped through the curtain.
EMILY WEST:
Looking far less conflicted than she had at Season‘s Beatings, Emily stepped forward, reached to the small of her back and undid the clasp holding the World Title in place. This she raised overhead, a direct answer to the blonde who thought she could wear a title without the assistance of a partner. She was in the midst of staring McCrimmon down when the Announcer called, “And introducing her opponent, representing the Black Court, hailing from Dunwich Massachusetts, she stands at five feet four inches tall and weighs in tonight at one-hundred and twenty-two pounds. She is the One Hundredth Percentile, the Black Queen and the reigning and defending FAWN World Champion… EMILY WEST!”
For her first encounter with the remaining BFG, Emily wore a gleaming black corset with half a dozen tiny silver buttons that started just below her sternum and ended just above her navel. Below, the corset flowed seamlessly into a matching black skirt edged in delicate white lace. Traveling yet farther south (across perhaps three inches of exquisitely toned thigh) West’s strong legs were armored in black nylon stockings topped by more lace (albeit in black) and shiny black wrestling boots that reached to just below the knee. Her big match look was accessorized with flat black pads at elbow and knee and a completed by a wide choker done in black velvet. From this choker hung a small onyx pendant carved into the shape of Emily’s favorite chess piece.
Quite ready to claim the overmatched powerhouse‘s scalp for her trophy collection, Emily headed down the ramp and made straight for the steel steps, which she ascended without preamble. Standing on the edge of her game board, the Black Queen ran several dozen scenarios in the few seconds it took the canvas to regain its normal coloration. Then she slipped between the ropes and mounted the nearest corner. Pleased with the order she’d carved out of this ceaseless chaos, the Insidious Intellectual held the World Title aloft and tapped the faceplate three times.
I’m. So. Smart.
With each passing day it got harder to deny, especially after the savage dismissal of Kylie Sanders in December. Of course the FAWNatics knew damned well that West wasn’t the lesser of two evils and they sure as hell wouldn’t complain if Roxie whooped her ass tonight, Yet there was something about the Queen’s confidence that was reassuring and a great number of them had grown, if not happy about her reign, then at least tolerant of it. Emily seemed to sense this change in attitude because she smiled before hopping down from the corner. That smile got wider when she turned to face Roxanne McCrimmon. She’d held back at Season’s Beatings in the hopes of showing Kylie what it actually meant to be a World Champion. She had no such compulsion to spare McCrimmon’s mind. In fact, Emily thought she’d very much enjoy building on the groundwork Lenore had laid last year.
Bolstered by the resounding ‘B-F-G!’ chants from the crowd, Roxie McCrimmon made a beeline for the champion as soon as the bell sounded. Very much aware of the challenger’s momentum (both mentally and physically) Emily stood her ground until Roxie was close enough to lunge. Only then did she dip her upper body between the top and middle ropes. “Hold her back, please.” she said to Castle.
The fans booed vociferously and McCrimmon almost walked through the ref anyway but in the end Nick held her off. “Everybody gets one, Em.” he told the champion sternly. “Try that again and I’ll stand aside.”
Emily pulled herself out of the strands and smiled faintly. “I very much doubt that, Nicholas. And besides, it’s a moot point. I’ll only need one.”
“That’s what you think, honey.” Roxie was still stationed behind the ref, but it was clear she meant to resume her approach at any moment. “You’re gonna be begging for all the rope breaks you can get the first time I punch you in the mouth.”
West stepped out of her corner and raised both hands to just below shoulder level. “Interesting observation, Roxanne. I would’ve expected a more deferential tone, considering what befell you the last time you shared this ring with a member of the Black Court.” Emily’s smile grew wider as the Beantown Bombshell’s eyes narrowed to black slots. “Although perhaps I shouldn’t be surprised. Lenore tells me your approach to battle is as careless as your approach to parent--”
McCrimmon shoved the official aside and exploded toward the Black Queen, her right foot ascending in a wicked arc aimed directly at West’s face. Any other time and the Big Boot would’ve taken Emily’s head off at the chin, but getting around Castle cost Roxie the element of surprise and Emily pulled her head to the right, thus sending her attacker’s foot pistoning over her left shoulder. Seeking to neutralize McCrimmon’s power advantage as quickly as possible, West wrapped her arms around the blonde’s thigh, then pushed onto tiptoes and dropped to her knees. The pit of Roxie’s knee collided with the ball of the brunette’s knee, sending a jolt of pain all the way up to her hip.
It wasn’t enough to take McCrimmon off her feet but it slowed her down long enough for Emily to stand up and sweep her plant leg. Sliding back to better grip the ankle still in her possession, Emily stretched it out full length and fired two short, sharp kicks into the back of her foe’s right thigh. Then she stepped over and around like the beginnings of a Figure Four but rather than spin all the way through she dropped to her knees to torque the whole of McCrimmon’s lower leg.
Roxie snarled and sat up, meaning to grab hold of Emily’s hair or maybe just clout her upside the head, but the FAWN World jabbed a well-timed elbow into her sternum to send back empty handed. At least momentarily free of the blonde’s grasp, Emily got to her feet with Roxie’s ankle still in tow and snapped off three more kicks, making sure each dug deep into the dense meat just above the right knee.
Another spin and drop followed but this time West didn’t load her elbow in time to keep the Bostonian from snatching a handful of hair. Grimacing as McCrimmon wrenched her head back, Emily cupped both hands under the taller woman’s trapped foot and yanked up, putting tremendous pressure on her ankle. Roxie hissed in pain and replied with a brawny Forearm Smash that THWHAPPED across the back of Emily’s shoulders. “Let go of my ankle, girl.” McCrimmon demanded. “Or I’ll club you all the way to the back of the class.” She pounded Emily’s shoulders again to reinforce the point.
West had to admit, Roxie’s strength of shot was nothing short of impressive and under other circumstances there’s no way she would’ve allowed herself to stand there and take those blows. Tonight however she made no move to get to safety. Rather she pulled that much harder on Roxie’s ankle and pressed down with her knee, making it all the more uncomfortable. “Club all you like, Roxanne.” she grunted. “But my shoulders can endure more than your ankle and even if they couldn’t the law is on my side. Isn’t that right, Nicholas?”
It was, at least as long as the blonde was still tugging on her opponent’s hair. “She’s right, Roxie. Let go of her hair, please.”
McCrimmon mulled the order. “Mmmmhh, no, I don’t think so.” With that she walloped Em with one more Forearm Smash, then twined that hand into the brunette’s hair and YANKED her head back ‘n forth, clearly intending to make Emily relinquish control over her aching leg.
The Amazing Academic screeched her indignation and pain, but she maintained her tenacious ownership of Roxie’s foot until Castle reached ‘FOUR!’ on his count. Blessedly free of the taller woman’s talons, West made as if to rise, then dropped down once more, making sure a great deal of her weight landed just above the blonde’s ankle. The resultant burst of pain finally extricated McCrimmon’s leg from Emily’s control and she promptly pulled her knee up to her chest to better tend to the damage.
She’d had less than five seconds to tend to it when the Insidious Intellectual seized hold of her right ankle and straightened it out with a single convulsive YANK! Tucking the challenger’s right ankle into her left armpit, Emily dropped to the mat and in doing so threaded her legs around Roxie’s wounded gam. Ankles locked as soon as her butt touched the canvas, West made sure McCrimmon’s knee was trapped between her thighs and then squeeeeeeeeeeeezed down while simultaneously bending the helpless ankle.
Roxie shrieked once before biting it off with a ferocious ‘clack’ of her jaws, she was too damned proud to burn oxygen on a scream. She didn’t bother trying to squirm loose or pound at Emily’s encroaching thighs either, instead she twisted over onto her left side, dug her hands into the mat and started to drag her way toward the ropes. The Sensual Scholar didn’t try to stop her but she sure didn’t make the journey easy, that’s for certain. She tugged, wrenched, jostled and ground until Roxie crooked an arm over the bottom rope and bellowed, “BREAK! BREAK IT, I’M IN THE ROPES!”
Emily did as required without Nick’s prompting but only so he’d be a little more forgiving in his count when she scrambled into a hard mount atop the small of McCrimmon’s back. Paying back Roxie’s earlier tugging with some of her own, West twisted the big blonde’s head to one side and pressed down, forcing her face against the mat. “Kiss the canvas, Roxanne. Kiss it right now and I promise to leave you in peace when you slide under the bottom rope like a common New Yorker.”
Roxie wouldn’t have complied with the demand anyway, Em’s mention of the hated NYC only strengthened her resolve. “You’re gonna get off my right now, bytch.” she rasped. “And maybe, just MAYBE, I won’t make you eat every bit of this mat when the match is oveRMMMHH!”
Emily forced McCrimmon’s cheek against the rough surface, then leaned down so her lips were inches from the challenger’s ear. “Blondes are so cute when they’re spouting utter nonsense.” She pecked a kiss against Roxie’s cheek, pushed up off her mount and grabbed the top rope in both hands so she’d have better leverage when she shoveled the vulnerable vixen under the bottom rope with half a dozen stubby, nudging kicks.
The fall to the floor wasn’t particularly long or painful, but it was awkward in the extreme and Roxie couldn’t shake the idea that she’d been brushed from the ring, a place she thought of as a second home, like little more than a piece of garbage. Dismissing the thought with a low growl, she struggled to her feet and paced back n’ forth in an attempt to get the kinks out of her injured leg. Given West’s notorious mouth, she’d expected the Black Queen to narrate her every step, yet the leader of the Black Court remained oddly silent. It wasn’t until she looked to the squared circle that she understood why.
Emily wasn’t crowding the ropes or even sitting on the middle strand to offer her foe condescending passage. Rather she was seated cross-legged in the middle of the squared circle with her hands on her knees. More annoying still, the expression she wore managed to convey the idea that she was simultaneously amused by Roxie’s efforts and irritated at the blonde powerhouse for wasting her time.
Oh so eager to wipe that smirk off the champ’s face, McCrimmon grabbed the middle rope, pulled herself onto the apron and slipped back onto the field of contention in relatively short order. She’d expected the Black Queen to stand once she did, so imagine her irritation when Emily didn’t so much as twitch. Hands on her hips, Roxie locked eyes with the brunette and said, “You wanna get up, brainiac?”
West shrugged her shoulders slightly. “I see no particular reason to do so.”
Roxie grimaced. Getting smacked in the mouth was one thing, getting disrespected was another entirely. “Stand up right now or I’ll make sure you don’t until you leave the hospital.”
An ominous threat indeed, not that you’d know it by Emily’s reaction. “Really Roxanne, resorting to threats of physical violence so quickly? Perhaps Lenore WAS justified in her critiques of your parenting sty--”
Roxie rushed her and would’ve knocked the brunette’s head off with a low boot if West hadn’t propelled herself into a short tumble and ended up on one knee behind the exasperated challenger. Snatching McCrimmon’s right ankle before she had the chance to turn around, Emily yanked it out from under her, sending the Destroyer to the mat on her chin and chest. With Roxie’s size and strength temporarily negated, West planted her left foot atop the Bombshell’s left ankle, making it all but impossible to roll onto her back. Then she raised Roxie’s right leg high and tossed it down, THWHUMPING her knee into the canvas-sheathed plywood.
McCrimmon cursed and tried to pull loose, alas Emily’s ankle spiking precaution worked perfectly. Following another forceful Stump Puller, the Insidious Intellectual stepped over her blonde’s captured leg and neatly laid out atop Roxie’s back with her leg trapped at a painful angle between brunette thighs. Roxie knew an attempted STF when she saw one so she curled both arms over her head and tucked her chin against her chest to defend against the Facelock. It stymied West until the brunette curled her hands into claws and sank them into Roxie’s shoulders. Kneading and working the firm muscle like it was dough, the Queen only had to wait for McCrimmon to fight back. Once she did, she slipped her left arm over Roxie’s face and pulled back, wrenching her neck at a painful angle.
STF:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=VUWgIXMiaUE
“What do you say, Roxie?” Nick asked, reacting to the blonde’s groan of pain and embarrassment, “Do you want to give it up?”
“Surely not!” Emily answered for her even as she cranked back on the challenger’s noggin, thus offering the cameras an excellent view of her prey’s scooped neckline. “Why, Roxanne hasn’t landed so much as a single blow! What sort of message would it send if she surrendered so quickly?”
Roxie reached up with her right hand and grabbed hold of Emily’s wrist, hoping to prize the Crossface apart. “Let me go, Emily!”
The Sensual Scholar halved her grip for a moment, but only so she could grab Roxie by the hair for a good shake. “Make me, Roxanne.”
The challenger groaned in pain and embarrassment, to be so thoroughly schooled on the mat was nothing short of humiliating. Still, she wasn’t going to make it easy for the brunette. Setting her hands against the canvas, she pushed up as best she could and started to slide forward. “Trust me, I will. And when I do I’m going to LOVE wearing you out.”
“You’ll have to make me sweat first, cave girl.” Emily cooed. “ And right now that looks like a long sh--”
McCrimmon dragged herself into range and snatched the bottom rope in both hands. “BREAK THE HOLD!” she demanded. “RIGHT NOW!”
Emily released the Facelock without comment, though that was probably because she didn’t want to raise suspicions before she grabbed a double handful of hair and bounced the blonde’s head off the mat. Roxie wanted to defend herself but she didn’t let go of the ropes for fear of West dragging her out into deep water again. This turned out to be a valid concern as Emily STAMPED on the back of her right thigh, then took control of the ankle and started tugging.
While Roxie had no problems with Nick Castle or his officiating, she wasn’t quite sure she trusted him to pull Emily off in time, so she gathered her strength and twisted onto her back. Emily loosened her grip long enough to let McCrimmon make her adjustments, which turned out to be a mistake, as the Beantown Bombshell pulled both knees up to only a few inches below her chin. With the soles of her boots pressed against Emily’s vaunted rack, Roxie flashed her a wink and pistoned both feet forward as hard as she could. The Mule Kick was simple in the extreme, but it still raised a loud cheer from the FAWNatics when Emily went soaring halfway across the ring.
Scrambling to her feet while the thrum of West’s landing was still echoing through the canvas, Roxie started toward the brunette in hopes of catching her prone so of course Ems spoiled that by somersaulting onto her knees. The Amazing Academic pushed up and was off like a shot, coming straight for her blonde with the intention of -- Roxie jabbed out a hand and caught the champ by the throat. West instinctively grabbed for her wrist and McCrimmon let her, it meant there was no way for Emily to stop her when she stuffed her other hand into the smaller woman’s belly. Unpleasantly aware of a nasty twinge in her right knee, Roxie shunted it aside and muscled West high overhead in a flawless Military Press.
“SHE MAY BE A GENIUS!” McCrimmon bellowed to the resurgent crowd. “AND SHE MAY BE THE WORLD CHAMP, BUT SHE’LL NEVER DO THIS!” Roxie proceeded to bust out half a dozen reps with her wide-eyed opposition, but instead of merely dumping her to the canvas, the BFG dropped West across her shoulders in a Fireman’s Carry and immediately laid out on her left side to THWHONK the back of Emily’s head and shoulders into the mat with the Boston Massacre.
BOSTON MASSACRE @ 00:26
www.youtube.com/watch?v=fKw3UoKJcbI
Understandably galvanized by this turn of events, McCrimmon floated over into a Lateral Press and cradled the far leg tight while she counted along with the…
ONE!
TWO!!
Emily kicked out with authority, a stern reminder that it was going to take more than one powerful shot to end her reign. Lucky for Roxie, she had all manner of powerful shots in her arsenal. And after taking so much abuse (both physical and verbal) it didn’t take her long to pick one. Working her fingers into Emily’s hair, she got to her feet and forced West to do the same. The hair pull turned into a Muy Thai-style Neck Clasp before the ref could complain, not that Emily noticed the distinction when Roxie spiked a Kneelift into her tummy.
“Oh yeah, this is anybody’s game now,” McCrimmon noted with clear satisfaction in between tenderizing the shorter woman’s midsection. “Actually, that’s a lie. It’s MY game and we both know it.”
Switching over to a Chinlock to better control her foe’s head, Roxie twisted around in a half circle that put them both back to back with West’s neck angled awkwardly over her right shoulder. Though a Neckbreaker would’ve been perfectly welcome, McCrimmon twisted back the way she’d came and dropped to one knee in a smooth, sinuous motion that pulled Emily down into a THWHUNKING knee to face collision.
DR. TEETH:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=9O_d9xs3pEQ
Roxanne had seen scores of Destroyers end up flat on their backs after a visit to Dr. Teeth so she had to admit being a little impressed when West kept her legs, rubbery though they might’ve been. Still, mere resilience was no reason to show mercy, which was why the challenger rounded on one heel and sprinted at the ropes on the far side of the ring. Returning with a dangerous head of steam, the Beantown Bombshell cranked back her right arm, then whipped it forward to add even more emphasis to the Lariat that THWHACKED flush across Emily’s chest. Turned inside out by the walloping blow, West flipped over and landed in a prostrate sprawl just beside her opposition, McCrimmon having dropped to her knees with the force of the blow. Practically glowing at the thought of felling the Black Queen and claiming the World Title in a single stroke, Roxie shoveled the wounded champion onto her back and dropped down atop her chest in a miniature Splash. A hook of the leg later and Nick Castle swooped in to count…
LARIAT:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=vPOqPraf03U
ONE!
TWO!!
Emily shot an arm into the air to delay McCrimmon’s coronation for at least another three seconds. Roxie showed three fingers to the official, muttered a curse when he offered two in return. Even so, she forced herself to quash that little seed of frustration in the pit of her stomach. Frustration led to mistakes and mistakes led to upsets, as that Sanders bytch had so ably demonstrated to Becky earlier in the evening. With that in mind she buried a hand in Emily’s hair and hauled her to a seat. Roxie stood up immediately thereafter but West did not join her in verticality. Rather the blonde stepped around behind her foe and switched the hair-hold for a more zebra-friendly Chinlock.
Pulling Em’s head back so the base of it was nestled in the pit of her stomach, McCrimmon looked down and smiled. “Know the old phrase, ‘everyone’s got a plan until they get punched in the mouth’? Well, I hope you have a lot of plans.” Roxie was still smiling when she brought her right arm down and in to THWHAP the inside of her forearm against the side of West’s face. Emily jolted and started to roll to all fours but the blonde reapplied the Chinlock and pulled her back to square one. Half a dozen more cudgeling shots followed, each one eliciting a little less resistance than the one before. And that was exactly the point. It wasn’t pretty and it wasn’t innovative, but Roxie didn’t need either of those. She just needed the wits and wiles pounded out of that dangerous brain long enough to make her FAWN’s newest double champion.
CROSSFACE PUNCHES:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=dC7EacHOoJA
When McCrimmon grew tired of the game she allowed Emily to twist away onto her hands and knees. Didn’t make it much farther than that though, as the Shamrock Stunner circled around and pulled the Courtier into a Standing Headscissors. “FAWN’s had just about enough of your evil genius shtick, Emily.” Roxie explained as she slipped her arms under the brunette’s biceps in a Double Underhook. “They’re ready for a World Champion they actually WANT to see.”
Emily was in no place to argue the point and even if she had been, McCrimmon had no intention of listening. Feet set and knees bent, she hoisted the smaller woman off the mat and up onto her shoulders. Transitioning to a more traditional Waistlock in the split-second she gave Emily to think about it, Roxanne slung her burden forward and down, just PLANTING the Amazing Academic in the middle of the ring with a scintillating Double Underhook Powerbomb. Emily’s legs flew up on impact, so McCrimmon palmed her calves and leaned forward, folding her in half with a Matchbook good for…
DOUBLE UNDERHOOK POWERBOMB:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=mgi-ilTsLLU
ONE!
TWO!!
THRNOOOO!!!
West slopped loose again and McCrimmon didn’t bother to hide her sigh of disgust. “I’ll give you credit, Emily. You’re scary smart and freakin’ tough for mean-spirited little chess club nerd. But this is my time and you’re going to need more than that if you want to beat me.”
Very much aware of the risk she was taking, Emily rose up on her knees and flipped hair off her face. Offering the challenger a sick smile, she asked, “It’s your time to what, exactly, Roxanne? Be the World Champion? Or a fit mother? Because from what I can tell you’re not ready for NNNNGGGHHHH!”
Roxie lashed out with her right foot and never mind the bolt of pain that shot from knee to hip when her heel connected with the Black Queen’s forehead. “Damn, and I thought Lemarchand was a bytch. No wonder those assholes made you their leader.”
No smart remarks from West this time (or any remarks for that matter) so the Beantown Bombshell scraped her up with a double handful of hair and marched her to the nearest corner. Roxie BWUUUNGED the brunette’s aching head off the top turnbuckle three times in rapid succession and probably would’ve kept at it if not for the presence of the referee, who would’ve surely would’ve ushered them out of the corner after a few more brain-rattling impacts. In no mood to stop doling out head trauma, McCrimmon spun the battered champion around and stuffed her in against the corner. Roxie put a hand against Emily’s chin and pressed forward, stretching her neck at an odd angle.
The thought of delivering another warning crossed her mind, but disappeared just as quickly. If West hadn’t learned by now, she wasn’t going to smarten up until the gold was strapped around the blonde’s waist. Thusly she mounted the middle rope, grabbed a huge hank of hair and pulled Emily’s head back, exposing her forehead. Right hand cocked and ready, Roxie muttered, “I came here to win a title. Now I’m going to win a title and beat you bloody in the process.”
Her fist spiked down and PWAAAKED Emily’s noggin to earn a loud ‘ONE!’ from those assembled. Another quickly followed and the FAWNatics kept a tally, their voices growing louder in time with the rising count. ‘TWO! THREE! FOUR! FIVE! SIX! SEVEN! EIGHT! NINE! TEN!” Roxie palmed West’s face in her hands, hopped down from the mount and THUNKED a Headbutt between her eyes.
Emily’s legs gave out and she dropped to her tush with one arm draped over the bottom rope and the other pressed to her battered features. The positioning earned several calls for a Stink Face from those in the first few rows and while it was tempting, Roxie had a better idea. Strutting away from the smoldering brunette wreckage, she leaned over and peeled down her left kneepad.
“I’ll be honest guys.” McCrimmon told the fans. “That chick doesn’t deserve to have her ass in my face. My KNEE however…”
With most eyes on the redlining challenger, very few were paying attention to the floundering champion, but those that did saw Emily fiddling with something just behind her head. Even fewer recognized what she was doing and their warning cries were completely lost in an uproarious cheer when Roxie raced across the ring. Blissfully unaware of the trouble awaiting her arrival, McCrimmon charged into the corner and whipped her bare left knee straight at Emily’s temp-- West jerked her head to the side and Roxie’s knee SLAMMED into the glittering steel ring that was usually armored in a turnbuckle pad.
Shrieking with pain, McCrimmon stumbled back, wheeled around and collapsed onto her side, just the sort of distraction Emily needed to slip the pad back into its proper place. Once she’d swept the crime scene clean, West clambered to boot leather and stalked out to where Roxie was still wailing to Nick Castle. “Does Ms. McCrimmon wish to surrender, Nicholas?” Emily asked with ice in her voice.
The ref shook his head ‘no’. “She says she’s good.”
“Understood. Then step aside, please.”
Those were the rules that Castle lived and died by, so he made no protest when Emily snatched hold of Roxie’s left ankle and stretched her leg out with a savage jerk. Positioning herself off to the challenger’s left, West kicked her right leg over the aching limb, then dropped to her butt. Now bringing her leg to bear across the side of McCrimmon’s sore knee was unpleasant enough, but it got downright unbearable when the Black Queen tied Roxie’s legs around her encroaching shin in a sort of sideways Figure Four. From there she pushed to her feet and surveyed the crowd even as her grounded opponent struggled against the gammy knot. After a moment she raised her right hand and tapped an index finger against her temple once, twice, thrice.
I’m. So. Smart.
Then she arched backward into a high, slow motion bridge that was as pretty to look at as it was ugly on Roxie’s poor knees.
BRIDGING INDIAN DEATHLOCK:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=zSVhUb-_FPU
Jaw clenched, eyes shut tight, McCrimmon buried both hands in her hair and pulled until she felt tracks on her cheeks. She didn’t scream though and that was all that mattered. Lenore had made her scream at the top of her lungs once and the Beantown Bombshell wasn’t about to offer the same gift to Lemarchand’s patron bytch. Even so, defiance could only last so long without meaningful resistance, so the grounded blonde rocked from side to side with the idea of upsetting Emily’s balance. It seemed to work at first, certainly the fires in her knees lessened noticeably. But then West dropped her hips and bridged up all the higher, cranking the pain well past eleven.
Roxie sucked in an anguished little breath when she realized her left hand was free and hovering mutinously above the canvas. Thankfully the FAWNatics bolstered her with a loud ‘PLEASE DON’T TAP!’ chant.
“Yes, by all means, refuse the sensible solution.” Emily said after a few more seconds. “Blow your knees out in the face of inevitable defeat and career altering injury. Perhaps you’ll make a better invalid stay at home mom than an ambulatory, absentee onNNNNGGGHHH!”
Roxie sat up like a zombie, locked both hands into a Double Axehandle and drove it deep into the pit of West’s stomach. The bridge gave way at once, not that its collapse stopped McCrimmon from pounding away on opposing tummy. Indeed she only broke it off when Emily cinched down on the Deathlock one last time. Angered by what she saw as mindless defiance in the face of obvious logic, the Black Queen relinquished her hold and scooted around to collect a double handful of hair.
“I’ve never subscribed to the theory of knocking some sense into someone.” Emily explained while lifting the challenger to a pained, knock-kneed verticality. “But you are from Boston, it’s not like I could knock some sense OUT of you.”
Wedging Roxie’s head under her left arm, West slipped her hands under the taller woman’s biceps and locked them between her shoulders. Double Underhook secure, she snapped back and laid out to THWHONK McCrimmon’s forehead to the canvas with an excellent DDT. Roxie bounced at full speed, then proceeded to roll over in a sort of delirious slow motion and not even her most ardent supporters were surprised when she made no move to keep Emily off her chest. The Malefic Malengine hooked her blonde’s far leg and cradled it tight, making sure Roxie was shoulders down / ass up for a brisk…
DOUBLE UNDERHOOK DDT:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=oPVZSCwLSZ4
ONE!
TWO!!
THRENOOOOOOOO!!!
McCrimmon raised a shoulder by the slimmest of margins, prompting cheers from those assembled and an eye roll from Emily. “Very well, Roxanne. You have asked for no quarter and thus I will offer you none.”
On those ominous words she grabbed a huge hank of hair and got to her feet, all the better to make the challenger do the same. A sharp little kick to Roxie’s left knee almost brought her down, but a timely Front Facelock from the World Champion kept her at least sort of upright. Slinging McCrimmon’s near arm across her shoulders, Em helped herself to some waistband, then gathered her reserves and-- Roxie twined a leg around West’s calf to block what was almost surely a Cerebral Hemorrhage. Em muttered something that sounded like ‘southies’, slipped free of the blonde’s desperate defense and set her again. The second attempt never came because Roxie chose that particular moment to shriek, quite loudly in fact.
This was no cry of anguish or defeat, rather it was the infuriated bellow of warrior digging into the deepest depths of her reserves. Lifting the Amazing Academic all the way to high noon in direct defiance of her aching knees, the Shamrock Stunner held her prey aloft for three long seconds before she tossed her into a short freefall that ended with West THWHAMMING down on her face, chest and belly.
RELEASE GOURDBUSTER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=zf6p-Y_R12A
Roxie staggered forward in search of a pin only to change plans on the fly when Emily popped to her feet. Far from a miraculous recovery, the brunette’s hands were pressed tight around her nose, so she didn’t notice McCrimmon’s approach until the wounded blonde lowered a shoulder and buried it in her midsection. Wrapping her arms around West’s weight for support as much as control, Roxie kept on full steam ahead until Em’s BWUUUNGED against the closest turnbuckle.
Vaguely aware that her knees didn’t hurt at the moment, the blonde powerhouse took command of the middle rope and reared back for not one, not two, but three gut-churning Shoulderblocks to Emily’s defenseless abs. There would’ve been more if she didn’t have to worry about the ref pulling her loose. Since she did, McCrimmon straightened up and moved onto something bigger and nastier.
“I’m throwing a New Champion Party later, and I’m afraid you’re not invited.” the Beantown Bombshell huffed while threading Emily’s arms over the top rope. “Don’t feel left out though. I’m throwing a Violence Party right now, and you’re the guest of honor.”
CRAAACK!
Roxie lit up the champ’s decolletage with a snappy Knife-Edge Chop that transitioned into a Forearm Smash quite nicely. The pair of strikes looped into itself four times before segueing into a series of Headbutts delivered squarely between West’s eyes. Roxie usually took the party out of the corner once it was in full swing but tonight she kept it confined to the buckles to ensure Emily had nowhere to go. This meant a second round of Chops and Forearm Smashes interspersed with some vicious Kneelifts and even the occasional European Uppercut.
Of course keeping it confined to the corner meant the fuzz was bound to show up sooner or later and sure enough, Nick Castle hurried up just as Roxie really found her groove. “Enough of the mugging, Rox. If you wanna finish her off, do it in the middle of the ring.”
Roxie stopped hitting, put both hands against Emily’s chin and pushed hard. Then she looked at Castle and grunted, “Yeah, I’ll finish her there. But it STARTS here.”
More than happy to take the wicked festivities to the upper floors, McCrimmon pulled her brunette into a Front Facelock and pulled her out just enough to swing into her old spot. From there she boosted herself into a seat on the top turnbuckle and bore down on Em’s noggin. “You better hope Lemarchand’s as smart as you say she is.” the blonde growled. “Because it’s going to take another genius to put your head back together.”
Urged on by a capacity crowd, McCrimmon pushed off the second rope, swung around in a smooth circle and… swung right back to start because Emily hooked her behind the knees. Still mired in the challenger’s Facelock, Emily took possession of Roxie’s feet and slipped them behind the second rope, so that her ankles were knocked against the rubber-coated steel.
That was about the time Roxie regained her bearings, so West sent them reeling again by POUNDING her fists into the sides of McCrimmon’s knees. Roxie howled and abandoned the Facelock, which allowed Emily to stand up and shove the Bostonian as hard as she could. The FAWNatics let out a horrified gasp as Roxie tumbled toward what looked like a headfirst landing on the floor. Only when she bounced to a stop did they realize the savage brilliance of Emily’s tactic. With Roxie’s ankles trapped behind the middle strand, her knees were folded tight over the top and all her weight pulled down on the aching, brutalized joints.
Now Roxie did scream, a pealing, pain-maddened carillon that made everyone within the sound of it feel like wailing along with her. Everyone save Emily that is, the Black Queen merely climbed to the middle turnbuckle and planted one foot atop McCrimmon’s left knee to make the predicament that much more unbearable. Genuinely startled by the champ’s cruel creativity, Nick shook off his stupor after a moment and barked, “In the ring or out, I don’t care Emily, but get her off the damned ropes!”
West nodded, leaned down and hooked a hand into the bottom edge of the shamrock cut-out over her foe’s midsection. Properly anchored, she stepped down to the canvas and hoisted the hobbled blonde into her prior seat on the top turnbuckle. Emily stood there observing her, cycling through myriad options that all led to the same endgame. One crossed her mind and was almost discarded before the champ gave it second consideration. Deciding it could prove both entertaining and enlightening, she asked McCrimmon, “You know that old chestnut about not knowing one’s own strength? Well I believe I do, or at least I did up until I started weight training with The Three. While I’ll never be able to replicate their feats, there’s something I’ve been wanting to check off my professional bucket list for as long as I can remember. And since you’re in no position to object…”
The Sensual Scholar stepped forward and pressed her right hand to Roxie’s tummy while the left braced against her chest. Pretty features stern with concentration and exertion, Emily dipped her knees and-- the FAWNatics let out a surprised roar as West stepped away from the corner with Roxie held overhead in a startlingly strong Military Press. Emily smiled even though the burn in her biceps started almost immediately. “I must admit, this is extremely gratifying.” she huffed. “Yet something tells me I’ll enjoy this even more.” Moving as quickly as she could, West tottered to the edge of the squared circle and dumped the Beantown Bombshell over the top rope.
The arena seemed to suck in a gasp as Roxie plummeted to the floor, meaning it sounded all the louder when she THWHUMPED against the thinly-sheathed concrete. “JESUS, EMILY!” Castle rushed the ropes and looked over, genuinely concerned at what he might find. It wasn’t as bad as he’d hoped, but it sure as hell wasn’t great either. Roxie must’ve hit squarely on her right side because she’d rolled onto her left hip and was clutching her shoulder and knee in equal measure. Feeling like the world’s most insufferable prick, the ref called, “Can you go on, Roxie? If you want the bell, just say so and it’s yours.”
Roxie didn’t look up at him, but she didn’t waste any time shaking her head ‘no’. “Start the count, zebra. I’ll beat it.”
So Nick did.
For all of McCrimmon’s bold talk the official reached ‘TEN!’ without any real progress from the challenger. It wasn’t until lucky ‘THIRTEEN!’ that she made it to all fours. At ‘SIXTEEN!’ she rose, but her knees gave out and the crowd groaned, disheartened by the very real threat of a count out. Castle was all the way to ‘NINETEEN!’ when Roxie sprang to verticality and dove under the bottom rope with perhaps a half second to spare.
Breathing a huge sigh of relief, the Shamrock Stunner pushed to her hands and knees and THWHACK! Emily stepped in from the left and damn near took Roxie’s head off with a Soccer Kick that connected with the side of her foe’s face. Knocked halfway to dreamland by the concussive blow, McCrimmon tumbled onto her back and pooled out in a defenseless starfish.
SOCCER KICK:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=6aBfHfW9uzo
Emily looked over her work and knew that checkmate had come. Given the blonde’s near dead weight it would’ve been impractical to get her up for the Hemorrhage and she wasn’t aware enough to really learn anything from the Mind Over Matter, so that left the third option. Looping around above Roxie’s head, Emily twined her fingers in the blonde’s hair and ever so slowly dragged her to her knees.
“Your strength has failed you, Roxanne. Just as it failed Margaret.” West told the shiny-faced battler. “Should you wish to challenge me again, I would request that you come to the ring with a better stratagem than ‘me big and strong!’ As you’ll see, size and strength mean very little when there’s no room to maneuver.” Case in point, the Black Queen wrapped her right arm around Roxie’s neck and cupped her left elbow for extra leverage. Palming the back of the blonde’s head in her left hand, pulled Roxie’s pain-slack face deep into the sweltering furnace of her cleavage.
The fog roiling between McCrimmon’s ears thinned when her air was cut off, but only enough for her to realize something was amiss. Squirming fitfully, she pushed at West’s hips, then at her biceps, neither of which budged in the slightest. “MMMRRRPPPHHHHH!” she squealed, the desperation in her tone clear even through the muffler of Emily’s rack.
‘Don’t fight it, dear.” Emily lowered her head to lay a cheek atop the Bostonian’s sweat-damp skull. “Your fight is over for the night. Better to accept that and prepare yourself for the next game instead of wasting more energy on pointless resisttWHOOOAAAH!”
Incredulous cheers from the FAWNatics when McCrimmon wrapped her arms around Emily’s waist and powered to boot-leather. Though she was blind, breathless and practically legless, that didn’t stop Roxie from staggering toward what she hoped was either a corner or the ropes.
Frankly amazed and yes, impressed by the suffering woman’s resilience, Emily allowed her to make it perhaps three or four steps before she brought her legs up and wrapped them around McCrimmon’s hips. Ankles locked, Emily CRUSHED down on the Scissors and yanked the Front Sleeper this way and that. Roxie tried her hardest to stay vertical, but the pressure around her waist combined with the shortness of breath combined with her demolished knees proved too much and she sank to the mat amidst moans from the fans. Confident she could predict Roxie’s remaining consciousness by the feel of blonde breath against her chest, Emily rolled onto her back and pulled McCrimmon along for the ride. “Go to sleep, Roxanne.” she murmured. “There’s no shame in losing to the--”
Roxie flattened her right hand into a loose paddle and tapped Emily’s shoulder three times. West shrugged as the bell sounded. “No shame in admitting you’re beaten either.”
The Announcer confirmed as much a moment later. “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner via submission and STILL the FAWN World Champion… EMILY WEST!”
The Amazing Academic released her hooks and pushed the blonde onto her back with a satisfied little sigh. Rather than get to her feet, she rolled over onto McCrimmon’s waist and slid up until the center of her trunks was brushing against Roxie’s chin. Emily didn’t move to smother her opposition but she forced scalding eye contact and that was somehow worse. “That’s two submissions now, Roxanne. How many more times do you have to bend the knee to the Court to realize you’d be better off on our side?”
Roxie couldn’t shake her head, Emily’s thighs were pressed too closely against her cheeks. “Not to you.” she whispered. “Never to you.”
Emily smiled faintly. “Whatever you say, Roxanne. Just know I won’t hold it against you when you do bend the knee. I am a benevolent ruler, whether you believe it or not.” Roxie bit her bottom lip to keep quiet so Emily stood up and let Castle raise her hand. He handed her the belt shortly thereafter and West slung it over one shoulder. “And so another would-be queen is reduced to a pawn. Removed from the board until such time she is deemed fit to return to the proceedings. In the meantime, I hope you other pawns think long and hard about who to send forward next. This spirit of generosity I’m feeling can’t last. And when it runs out… I fear for the woman on the other side of this ring.”
With her reign secure for another night, Emily West set off on a stroll around the squared circle, making sure to stop at every corner to show off the gold she’d denied Roxanne McCrimmon. Eventually she slipped through the ropes and headed up the ramp, leaving the crowd to wonder just who might have a chance at taking down the most dangerous monarch in FAWN’s recent history.