Post by SammieSinclair on Feb 7, 2015 17:25:57 GMT
As early on the card as it may be, the FAWNatics were no less boisterous for the upcoming proceedings, the Orlando crowd in loud voice as they prepared for the spectacle of a rare, tag team based contest on a PPV that wasn’t for the divisions Titles. Coupled with an endless appetite for fresh talent, the masses were as ready as they could be as the loud speakers burst into life, competing with their cheers as potential became reality...
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gdu9Kzt1yOM
As the stirring guitar riff ripped across the impressive sound system of the packed Orlando Arena, the FAWNatics were already feeling compelled to begin cheering even before the bombastic drum beat joined in, and when that occurred, all bets were off. The applause was immediate as Alexis; the shorter of the siblings pushed through the curtains without a hint of hesitation as she squared her shoulders, planted one fist on hips and punched the other upwards into the air, pre-emptively cueing an explosion of red, white and blue kinetics.
ALEXIS ATLANTIC
Alison arrived the barest of heartbeats later and stood assuredly at centre stage, the five foot seven blonde beauty filling out her sky blue two piece with one hundred and thirty pounds of All American Athlete. A sublime specimen, the young woman with a gaze of sapphire proudly wore the hallmarks of her nation’s flag, the sports bra and boy cut shorts embezzled with a smattering of white stars, her calf high boots the colour of ruby red. With her feet braced firmly apart, Atlantic carried herself with the unmistakeable air of good breeding, her posture perfect, her shoulders straight, demeanour cool and her smile, however slight, effortlessly disarming. As she stood with one hand on hip and the other held up high in salute, the packed audience popped with positive applause and a hearty chorus of cheers, both of the Atlantic girls having earned themselves a positive reception since their recent arrival on the House Show circuit.
ALISON ATLANTIC
Alexis, the pocket blonde beside her cut an equally impressive figure, carved with curves in all the right places as she stood wrapped in a stunning, red and white two piece, the stripes of her Nations flag worn along with her boots of sapphire blue and white stars. The moxie Alexis possessed in spades allowed her to fill out her five foot four, one hundred and twenty pound frame better than some could fill out six. Her smirk was slight and matched her eyes, self assured and utterly ready to ‘bring it’ before the fierce, feisty spitfire dropped her fist and rolled her shoulders, those that sat firmly within the confines of her father’s bomber jacket, before setting off down the ramp.
The shorter of the Atlantic Twins evidently was not here to waste time, leaving the taller of the twins eating her dust with her strides swift and accompanied by a definite strut, one accustomed to facing her problems head on and refusing to ever back down, the very image of the hard fighting, American Heroine she and her sister were fast becoming. She reached out to slap hands, not holding back as she smacked the volunteered palms as hard as possible, her smirk transforming into a grin as she came closer to the ring.
Meanwhile, after a few chords further, Alison began her own journey down the ramp, her hips shimmying ever so slightly as her long strides showed not a hint of hesitation or hurry. She moved from one side of the isle to the other, taking a selection of hands that were held out towards her with short, polite shakes, the tilt of her head and the curl of her lips betraying the signs of a born diplomat, her words watching her every P and Q and her mannerisms that of an exceptional schooling.
Predictably the first to reach the squared circle, Alexis ignored the well trodden path of the steel steps and instead hopped up onto the apron, pulling herself up with a firm grip of the top coil. She turned on the spot, capturing the perfect moment within her music’s intro and snapped a bicep flex pose, effortlessly encouraging a fresh pop of cheers as the smirk was back in place, the image of a sublimely sculptured, hard hitting pocket brawler.
With a pivot and turn, she snapped her frame into the ring with a quick duck and step between the top and middle ropes, hopping into a quick few strides towards its centre as she indulged in a brief moment of shadow boxing. With a final roll of her shoulders she shrugged off her jacket, balling it up before delivering a quick kiss against one badge in memory of her departed father and entrusting it into the safe keeping of a ringside official.
Her respects given, Atlantic was back to being all business, slamming her fists together twice before waiting impatiently for her long, lost and noticeably more refined sibling.
Alison arrived a good dozen paces later, saluting again as she reached the ring, a small bounce entering her stride as she neared the steel steps, the young women silkily slipping her blonde mane back into a neat, loose and tidy pony tail as her heart began skipping a few beats faster. Alison puffed out her cheeks, however momentarily, before she began her ascent into the squared circle, ducking between the top and middle ropes before pivoting her frame out onto the canvas for the first time as a PPV competitor in the Orlando Arena.
As one Alison and Alexis raised up their hands in welcome as a second wave of pyros erupted at the rings corners, no doubt a splurge made in honour of their debut status and, as Alexis came to stand beside her, they were again bathed in the colours of their country, regardless of which side of the social line they had both come from.
The girl of high society rolled her shoulders and slowly began to back pedal towards her corner, Alison massaging her wrists as she set about controlling her breathing and taking stock her surroundings. Her parents had not been... overly pleased by her choices of late, and while they had stopped short of condemning their surprisingly ‘wilful’ twenty-one-year-old daughter, they struggled to understand why she had come here. Truth be told, so did she, the product of the finest wrestling schools that money could buy was, some had put it, slumming it in FAWN, the girl who could buy her way into any league opting to start at one which was, while undoubtedly world recognised, none the less proudly boasted a somewhat ‘dubious’ reputation.
She knew why of course, Alexis had earned herself a spot here, through graft, through sweat, through sacrifice, and she would no doubt pitch a fit if Alison tried to use her connections to swan her off elsewhere. Her sister was here, her flesh and blood, a twin she’d never knew she’d had until they had fought back to back, and so there was no-where else to be. Alison nodded, assured that this was the best way, the taller of the Atlantic sisters rolling her shoulders one last time, the All American Athlete primed, the blonde beauty ready for all challengers that could be set against her.
A year, five years...ten...they were going to be the FAWN Tag Champions, and that journey began here.
Bon Jovi’s Bad Medicine interrupts the cheers for the oceanic siblings in the ring, ‘big hair music’ from the 80s pumping through the speakers, turning all attention to the stage above.
@ 00:35
www.youtube.com/watch?v=eOUtsybozjg
And through the curtains two brunettes, obviously from the sexiest hospital in all creation, stride seductively to the centre, arm in arm. The gorgeous grapplers settle, one with an extra large syringe in hand, the other with a straightjacket. The ladies show off their wares to jeers from the crowd.
DEBORAH HURT
KRISTIN MANNERS
To say the women’s attire is eyecatching would be an understatement. Both dark-haired beauties wear stylized, fetishized versions of a nurse’s uniform, namely white latex halters with short, short skirts, a flash of red occasionally seen from beneath, nylons fastened by garters leading to ankle boots. They both wear elbow-length gloves of the same ivory latex as their skirts and finish with white knee and elbow pads, both containing red crosses. The nurses also have surgical masks, though they hang around their necks, perhaps put in place for the nasty procedures they hope to perform. The public address spits to life as the women sashay toward the ring.
“They are from Parts and Surgical Suites unknown…at a combined weight of 255 pounds…the nefarious nurses…the Sisters of Mercy…Deborah Hurt and Kristin Manners!"
Both alleged medical professionals ignore the boos and reaching hands of the fans and make their way to the ring, The FAWNatics seem spellbound as the team circles the squared circle, some coughing so they can be checked by the raucous RNs. The assembled admire Deborah's seemingly endless legs and Kristin's bountiful chest enough to silence their catcalls as the women glide by.
The Sisters keep oddly disturbing smiles in place, their “bedside manner” altogether eerie yet seductive. Reaching the steps they move up slowly and carefully, taking each in turn before the brunettes slide into the ring through the ropes on either side of their corner. After placing the syringe and straightjacket neatly in place by the ring post, the nurses huddle, talking in hushed tones about their prescription for the siblings across the ring. Having arrived at the proper diagnosis, Nurse Deborah exits, taking her station outside. That leaves leaving the voluptuous Nurse Kristin to start the festivities and she stretches her latex gloves to make sure she’s ready to operate.
Despite being the genuine sisters in the ring, the Atlantic Alliance weren’t quite as on the same page as those of the Mercy variety, Alexis stepping forwards without a word of consultation being uttered. “I’m up...”
“Second,” Alison corrected with the smallest of smiles, a light hand upon her siblings shoulder halting her advance, Alexis startled into a short stumble. Her protest was disarmed as she found herself turned about and patted outside the ring, not entirely sure how exactly her sister had shepherded her in the opposite of her desired direction with such a minimal amount of effort. Shaking her head slightly, Alexis huffed, opting to keep her silence this once but making sure everyone knew she wasn’t happy about it.
“I’ll line her up,” Alison assured, placating her more compact sibling slightly with the implication before turning towards Kristin and giving her first, professional rival her full attention. Physically speaking, Alexis was outmatched by both of their opponents tonight, and regardless of how much she may dislike it, Alison was not sending out her sister to feed the wolves before she’d had the chance to gain their measure.
The bell chimed a moment later and, as the FAWNatics began applauding to get the match going, the blonde and brunette met at centre ring for a fierce collar and elbow tie up, Alison looking to slip about and tie the one time nurse up in a Full Nelson.
Manners flexes her sinew with the blonde, trying to gain the leverage advantage. The duo waltz for several seconds, testing their strength against each other when Alison jukes left and spins right, catching the naughty nurse off balance. Atlantic deftly makes her way around the befuddled brunette and just as quickly sneaks her arms under and around those of Kristin, lacing her fingers behind the neck of the mischievous caregiver. Kristin shrugs her shoulders trying to break loose and, when that fails, she swings her body from side to side, trying to break free of the nelson but, at least initially, she is unable.
“Behave,” Alison insisted as she held on night, riding out the thrashing with a deft dancing of her feet, the well schooled, well practiced movements keeping pace with her thrashing adversary. The former Jungle Tag Champion however was wily, and with each pivot the duo was being circled towards the one corner of the ring that was undoubtedly hazardous for the Alliance. The warning that was shouted by the FAWNatics was well taken and Alison dropped her hold, sleekly switching from full nelson to belly to back bearhug, an intended suplex not far behind.
“I said behave!”
Apparently, the nurse has a different idea of acceptable behavior than Miss Atlantic, as even with the blonde tightly embracing her from behind, Manners tries to swing her foe toward her fellow nurse. But before Kristin can manage, Alison shows she'll be able to pack some power into her team, easily plucking Manners off the deck and sending her tumbling heels over head in an aborted back flip that ends with Kristin's head and shoulders SLAMMING to the canvas. Kristin somersaults to her chest, cradling the back of her head, her boots pattering against the canvas. She starts to rise, making it to all fours, before taking a moment to compose.
“YES!!” Alexis cheered from ringside, her disgruntlement at being sidelined clearly being forgotten as she pumped her fist, rallying their supporters to do likewise as her sister took control.
Alison, meanwhile, made certain that her circling course took her in-between Kristin and her corner, the blonde making a point of making eye contact with Deborah at ringside, staring her down by way of silent promise before getting back to business. Collecting the rattled Manners, she slipped back on a firm Full Nelson, the brunette more complaint this time as fingers were laced behind a smooth neck and arms rendered impotent, the taller of the Atlantic Sisters backpedalling them towards Alliance territory.
Alexis was smirking, grasping the top rope as if it owed her money as the slim, silkily smooth shoulder of her sibling came within reach, the ‘stripes’ attired half of their combo completing the tag with a fraternal SLAP!! before she began to enthusiastically climb the ropes.
“Fast Tags!!” Alison felt the need to remind her sister, her struggle to keep a hold of the suddenly thrashing Kristin lending intensity to her previously composed demeanour. Unlinking her fingers, she SHOVED Manners forwards, fulfilling her pre-match promise.
“Yes Mom,” Alexis launched herself into the air, her wonderfully compact frame sailing like a cannonball as she used the top turnbuckle for her take off, reaching out like a cat diving for her catnip to collect Manners noggin and ride her to the canvas by way of Bulldog!
With Nurse Kristin held in place by one Atlantic the other heads North, scurrying to the uppermost pad. Alison nods and her sister does so in return before leaping from her perch. With the assist from sis, there's no way the nurse can counter and she's served on a plate to Alexis who snatches Manners' noggin on the way down and PLANTS it into the unforgiving deck with a ring-ratling THUD. As Alexis bounces on her behind, a slight wince emerging, Manners' forehead is her body part hitting canvas and there's a significant difference in reaction. Kristin bounces up to her knees and settles onto her haunches, dark eyes glazed as she wobbles next to the seated and beaming Alexis.
“That was for the Starr Sisters!” Alexis was certain to make the clear as she made a swift return to her own boot leather, referring to the infamous incident concerning body bags and taking things too far. With that duo currently unable to exact a pound of payback, the Babe of Brawl was more than willing to pick up the slack. “In fact, screw it, that’s only covers one, here’s something for the other!”
The smallest women in the ring took a few steps backwards before charging forwards, taking full advantage of Manners reduced stature and brought her boot up high to crack the taste out one women’s mouth for a full week.
@1:20
www.youtube.com/watch?v=oDoEiYTmrkM
Already dazed by the crisp teamwork of the blondes, Nurse Manners doesn't seem to be aware of the words or the approach of the precocious blonde. That's only proven to be the case when Alexis' raised boot CRACKS into Kristin's jaw, spinning her into a flopping pile of torso and limbs.
The crowd calls for 'NURSE', joyfully razzing the Sisters of Mercy, one of their team is in desperate need of one at the moment. Kristin rolls to her back, staring blankly into the lights above while in the far corner, Nurse Hurt shares a threat with Alexis, shouting the blonde will need her "services" after the match and that the "Sisters" might have a body bag with HER name on it.
“Oh yeah?” Alexis was spinning on her heel the moment Deborah started to give it some mouth, leaving the sprawled Kristin behind and marching across the ring, setting her shoulders and letting Hurt know that she had become the sole focus of the attention. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten that you were there as well, tonight or another night, karma is a bytch!”
Alison was trying to get her twins attention, but with the miniature mass of her counterpart out of reach she found her calming influence much diminished, the serene socialite leaning forwards against the ropes and tentatively switching her gaze between her sibling and the recovering Manners. “Alexis!” she clapped her hands together, the FAWNatics taking her growing exasperation as their signal to begin doing likewise, the Alliance faithful taking up the beat throughout the crowd as they were somewhat accidently rallied.
It did the trick none the less, Alexis staring down the taller Deborah for just a moment longer before getting back to what she should be, namely scraping the shell shocked Kristin off the canvas and returning her to the Atlantics corner.
The blonde strides to her fallen foe and surrounds the head of Nurse Manners, pulling the dazed brunette up to one knee with one tug before preparing to get her to vertical with another...
On the way up Kristin brings an uppercut to the gut of her foe, folding Alexis up with a loud grunt. Grabbing a two handfuls of flaxen locks, Kristin follows up with a headbutt to the bridge of Atlantic's nose that staggers Alexis then raises a boot to try and deliver some white shoe leather to the blonde's belly, so she can capture Alexis in a tight cradle, lift her off the deck, and place her back down roughly with a fisherman's suplex.
The rapid fire combo had rendered the smaller women compliant, the petite blonde folded forwards and tucked in tight, one arm slipped across the shoulders of the brunette as one, wonderfully athletic limb was hooked. Already diminutively packaged, the FAWNatics protested as their favourite, flag attired brawler was further compressed into an even smaller, perfectly curved ball, the All American Ass Kicker tightly bound and, momentarily disorientated, proved to be little burden for Kristin to swing up, over and SLAMMED all the way down into the canvas, a “GRUNT!!” upon her lips as her small body shuddered and her arms flopped out to either side, her spine and shoulders absorbing the brunt of the impact.
ONE!!
The Official began his count as Kristin held on for a pin, Alexis all but immediately bursting her way out to freedom, arms and legs thrusting out in all directions as she shook off the cobwebs. With an angry groan she rolled onto her front, the blonde cradling her back as she considered going for her corner.
But Manners has something else in mind when Atlantic reaches all fours. She drops astride the back of the blonde, mounting her like golden-maned pony. Manners reaches for Alexis' face and curls a couple fingers of her right hand inside her foe's nostrils. She yanks Alexis' head up viciously. "The doctor isn't in at the moment, dear," the naughty nurse growls, "but I hear you're having some vision problems. I'll see what I can do." With her left hand, Kristin takes a sideways swipe at Atlantic's baby blue peepers, planning to rake her ruby nails across the eyes and make her "patient" a lot more amenable to the prescriptions to come.
What was to follow was a cry that was as angry as it was pained, the pretty peepers of the smaller blonde raked by the nails of the merciless brunette, the fire in Alexis’s tone unable to hide her torment as she clasped her palms across her wounded lids. As the smaller of the two Atlantics hissed and grasped at her own teary features, it was the taller of the duo who made her own voice known.
“Manners!” Alison used the surname by way of quite threat as she pushed the limits of her match defined boundaries to their utmost, the same top dollar schooling that had shaped the socialite into an All American Athlete now serving only root her boot leather to the canvas. “You only get one warning...”
Kristin pulls the blinded blonde to her feet and leads her toward the less than Merciful corner. "I'm sorry," she says over her shoulder to Alison. "Unless you have a medical degree, Nurse Hurt and I don't care about any of YOUR warnings."
With a handful of golden locks in her right hand, and having reached her corner, Kristin SLAMS Alexis' head into the top buckle. She seems to get an almost sensual satisfaction from the impact and repeats the process another four times before reaching her hand to her partner in "caregiving".
When Deborah is made legal, she heads for the heights much like Alexis had earlier and, while she does; Kristin comes from behind, dipping her head between Alexis' thighs. Its clear Manners plans to lift Atlantic high onto her shoulders and that Deborah will be coming off with a clothesline, Hurt loading up her arm as she waits for Alexis to rise in front of her.
With her head whiplashing off the turnbuckle a good five times in quick succession, Alexis found herself slumped forwards in the wrong corner, a shimmy present in her firm thighs as Manners tucked her head between them, her stems opening to allow admittance as she was lifted skywards by way of electric chair. Blinded peepers half lidded, the blonde curled noggin on the Babe of Brawl bobbed upon her usually defiant shoulders as she sat upon her rivals, blinking as she reached out for what her befuddled mind half believed was her sibling.
Instead it was Deborah, the second brunette in latex introducing herself to the contest as she sailed into the air, the flying clothesline a scythe as the resulting impact all but beheaded the served up Alexis, a sharp “GRUHGH!!” ripped out of her petite body as she tumbled. With an almost three hundred and sixty degree spiral, the smallest of the Atlantics was ripped off Kristin’s shoulders and sent ground wards, a loud THUNK! accompanied by a dull “GRUNT!” as her miniature mass met the plywood and shook the ring.
With arms and legs outstretched, she was in no rush this time to roll over onto hands and knees.
The sultry 'Sister' lands on hands and knees and turns to the gobsmacked Alexis to admire her work. She 'walks' on all fours to the splattered Atlantic and gives a taste-removing slap to the cheek to revive her. Nurse Hurt rises, drawing Alexis with her, and noticing the shiny white latex upon her seems to have hypnotized the referee from starting a count, calls to Kristin to take one arm by the wrist while she takes the other.
The 'Sisters' force Alexis to the ropes to get a little bounce from the cables then whip her away with the impetus of both nurses. Alexis hits the opposite cables and rebounds with Kristin and Deborah racing toward her, hands joined at the level of the blonde's throat, prepared to rip Alexis off her feet with a double clothesline.
It was with a series of quietly muttered curses that Alexis had been hoisted up and pushed back into the ropes by two sets of hands, her noggin slumped forwards and her elfin chin pointed down between her stripes clad bosoms. The will was there, but not the power, her body still recovering as the two taller, stronger brunettes yanked her forwards into a sprint that took her clean across the ring. Her curls were bouncing as the wind whipped against her features, and it was with slightly more awareness that she hit the coils opposite, turning into them as she heard a shouted warning, this time coming from the real Alison and not merely her imagination.
Compelled to listen on some instinctive level, Alexis turned her diminutive stature to her advantage and, at the last moment, ducked below the duel set of limbs that were set to behead her twice in as many minutes. The FAWNatics ROARED in renewed approval as she scooted straight past them both, nimbly avoiding the disastrous impact and instead heading straight back to where her unwanted journey had started.
She hit the ropes again, this time under her own power as she spun into them and her pace became rapid, the All American Ass Kicker charging towards centre ring and – a startled gurgle replaced a growing war cry as a duel set of hands stopped her dead and latched about her throat. The Sisters of Mercy had been ready for the rebound and, as they both claimed an arm each to sling across their latex clad shoulders, the two brunettes hoisted the ragdolled blonde up high, swung her like a pendulum and BURIED her back down into the middle of the canvas by way of double choke slam.
Alexis recoiled from the impact with a sharp spasm, groaning as she bounced and rolled over, hands cradling her neck as she remained surrounded by her opponents.
With Alexis demolished after the dual slam, Nurse Manners decides it's time to leave the ring before a DQ comes from the ref.
The diminutive Atlantic is left to the devices of Nurse Hurt and the 'caregiver' knows just how to work over a body part. 'Helping' Alexis to all fours, Deborah steps over her foe's left arm and leaps into the air, jamming the poor blonde's shoulder viciously. She repeats the process another couple times before dismounting. But she's far from done.
Forcing Alexis to her feet, she dips and scoops Atlantic off the deck, flipping her onto her right shoulder, apparently for a body slam. But the naughty nurse shifts her grip, bringing the squirmy blonde more in front of her body, ready to drop to one knee and send that left shoulder falling toward the bony joint to leave Atlantic with only one working arm.
As silently as she watched, it was obvious to one and all that Alison was desperate for her sibling to slip free, the taller of the two trapped outside the squared circle and unable to intervene, gripping the top coil as she leaned pensively forwards. As ready as she was to leap into renewed action, it was Alexis that needed to do so, and no amount of willing it to happen from Alison could make it a reality as the blonde inside the ring remained slung across a shoulder and, after Deborah turned so that the taller sibling received the best possible view, was dropped viciously towards a waiting knee.
With a CRACK!! accompanying the fresh shout from Alexis, her slender shoulder was THUNKED!! onto a joint in a wicked collision that only one of them could win. The little lioness cursed as her petite package of a street fighting body jerked into a sharp spasm before she crumpled and slumped over onto the mat. The curses were quite yet persistent as her boot tapped against the canvas, one arm limp as she lay upon the mat, still fighting to drag herself back towards her team’s corner.
Her white latex-clad tormentor makes sure she's between Alexis and her sister. She grins and points at Alison before sending a stomp down to Alexis' injured wing.
Deborah grabs the left wrist of the blonde and gives it a wicked tug as she pulls Atlantic back to her feet for more 'therapy'. Hurt raises the aching arm, dipping underneath it while twisting. With the arm above her shoulder, Hurt sits out, drawing Alexis's arm down across her in an over the shoulder armbreaker.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=BISKV8Oe1_0
Alexis bounces back to her feet and staggers away in pain. The bigger brunette hops to her feet and trails. She reacquires the limb and uses it to Irish whip Alexis to the opposite ropes. When the little Lioness rebounds, Nurse Hurt takes off in a collision course, dipping to spear the flaxen-haired grappler in two.
If there was any life left in the targeted limb, Alexis wasn’t showing it as she slumped heavily to one side, wincing as she was forcibly dragged from one direction and then the other, Alison watching on with ever increasing concern. While she keeps her silence, the taller blonde began clapping, intentionally bringing the FAWNatics into play this time as they joined in, a thunderous percussion following Alexis as she was launched towards the ropes.
The All American Ass Kicker hit the coils and with a renewed hiss before she flew back out towards centre ring, Deborah taking to the air herself and...
“PISS OFF!!” Alexis roared, throwing one of her athletic stems up on a desperate gamble, the smallest women in the ring kicking out and moving to intercept the hurtling head of Hurt with a Big Boot from hell!!
Atlantic's boot finds the dipped head of the naughty nurse, namely on the chin, the tanned brunette's charge is halted in an instant. To the nurse's credit, she stays upright but pirouettes in a daze, Deborah all wobbly butt, her legs more than shaky. From the sidelines, Nurse Manners calls for her fellow Sister of Mercy to come to her and switch out, but Hurt seems unaware of the request, all her effort put into keeping off her pert, latex-sheathed ass cheeks.
In the battle for verticality, Alexis was not to so lucky, the ludicrous collision whipping those watching into a cheer just as it jack knifed the small blonde into a blinding spiral. With no centre of balance to begin with, her one eighty pirouette was beyond control before she landed right back down upon the canvas, barely moving as she shovelled in pained breadths.
Sensing her distress, the FAWNatics renewed their clapping, a thunderous applause that increased in tempo and, this time, had needed no prompting from Alison. Which was all well and good, as the star spangled young women in question was otherwise occupied, leaning forwards over the top rope and stretching out her right arm as far with possible. With one wary eye on Hurt, Alison implored with her sibling to get moving, opening and closing her fingers as nothing more than her million dollar schooling kept more colourful language entering her vocabulary.
Hurt was looking better by the moment and Alexis... burst into renewed life, if only for a moment, scrambling from the mat and leaping, diving with a shout as her the palm of her hand slapped her twins and the two switched places. The All American Athlete had needed no further prompting, inside the squared circle before her sibling had landed back down against it, diving into a spear to reclaim the contest!!
Nurse Hurt nearly gets torn in two from the tackle, her body folding around Alison. The grunt as her breath escapes her is loud and guttural and the newly legal Atlantic DRIVES Deborah into the deck with incredible pent up energy behind the blasting blow.
Sensing a foreboding change of momentum, Nurse Manners dips through the ropes, determined to make this change a short one.
But whereas Deborah writhes on the mat gut shot, Alison is back on her feet. She surges toward the charging Kristin and decks her second naughty nurse in seconds with a blistering clothesline. Manners scrambles to her feet, but is met with another. Again, Kristin pushes to her boot leather, if slowly before a dropkick from Alison keeps her down.
The crowd roars as Atlantic stand triumphant over the Sisters of Mercy. She reaches down and gathers up each with a handful of dark hair. Drawing her opponents closer, she uses her grips to pull their heads back, the wide-eyed nurses pleading with Alison not to provide the 'caregivers' a meeting of the minds.
In this case, however, the All American Athlete clearly thought it was in everyone’s best interests if the faux siblings shared a thought or two between them and, with a note of satisfaction she would never admit to, brought their foreheads together with a THUNK!! Both of the Nurses recoiled with blanked eyed peepers, and it was Hurt who found her brunette mane released, left to slink bonelessly to the canvas whilst the blonde retained her attention on Kristen.
“I told you Manners, one warning” Alison explained as she securely cupped her first ever, professional rival behind her neck and, a moment later, secured a latex belt. As if she were slinging a sack of potatoes, the dazzling young women of high society pivoted and moved to hurl the illegal entrant not only outside the ring, but into her corners steel post on the way there, “I don’t make a habit of repeating myself!!”
Alison gives her nurse the bum's rush toward the Sisters' corner and sends Manner hurtling through, Kristin continuing until her shoulder hits the unforgiving steel. The crowd gives a momentary groan of sympathy as Manners flops through the ropes and writhes on the apron in misery, clutching her arm, in need of some serious nursing in her own right.
Meanwhile, Deborah pushed to her feet while Atlantic took out the trash. She moves toward a turning Alison, head and body wobbly, her eyes still glassy. Still, she offers a wild right handed haymaker toward Atlantic. Perhaps seeing two Alison’s after her head-on collision with Kristin, she hopes to hit the one that's really there.
With the barest opening of surprise from her bright blue peepers, Alison turned about only in time to receive a closed fist blow against her cheek, one that rocked the star spangled wonder into a stumble. The two on one scenario had caught up with her at the very last moment and the young women’s enforced retreat ended quickly as her back met the uppermost turnbuckle of the ‘Sisters’ corner, her arms draping instinctively across the top ropes to either side of her.
Deborah followed through, knowing an opening when she saw it, ducking low to take advantage of the teams unfair play and plough her shoulder deep into the softly sculptured and exposed tummy of the flag attired heroine. Alison responded with an almost visible gust of air, her cheeks puffing outwards as she recoiled painfully, pinned between her opponent and the ringpost as her lungs expelled their air. With a juddering moan she groaned, curling forwards slightly with one long, athletic stem bent upwards at the knee, her slim tummy curved about the hard shoulder of her opponent.
"You think you're above getting injected with some reality," Deborah huffs through laboured breaths. "You're about to find out how good your health insurance is.” Hurt bullies Alison out of the corner, tugging her by a wrist. With that in her possession, the brunette beauty reaches an arm across the back of Atlantic's neck and dips to get the balance needed to vault the bigger blonde into the air. With a deep grunt, Nurse Hurt tries to lift Alison heavenward and toss the blonde over her shoulder, hoping to plant the newly entered Atlantic on her head and shoulders with a wrist clutch exploder suplex.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=lMLZ0rJsiJo
Winded and with the momentum stolen from her, the All American Athlete was in little shape to protest as she was tugged back out to middle ring, peepers blinking as she was dragged into position. Her own legs popped as she was lifted skywards... only for Hurt to soon realise, however far too late, that much of the uplift had been generated by Atlantic as well!
Just as they were about to reach the apex of the forced flight, Alison slipped free, her loose pony tail bobbing across her slender shoulders as she pivoted and landed lightly, front to back with Hurt as the brunette took her turn to be startled. “My health insurance could cover a small nation,” the blonde latched on, just as capable of spotting an opening as her opponents, wrapping her arms about Deborah’s slender neck to lock in a Sleeper, “I’d be more concerned about your own!”
Deborah's dark eyes go wide in immediate panic as she can feel Alison's arms snake around her head and neck, cutting off the blood supply at her carotid and temple. Hurt knows better than most how Atlantic can turn off her consciousness in a hurry. But her initial struggles prove fruitless as she weaves around the ring trying to shake Alison off unsuccessfully. Prying doesn't work. Twisting doesn't work. And Deborah's face gets more pale by the second, her lids fluttering and her legs offering a shimmy.
Kristin screams at her partner to make it to the nurses' corner, but Atlantic steers her away. In desperation, Hurt sends her arms behind her, trying to wrap them around the back of Alison's noggin, then drop to her backside and nail Atlantic's chin with a match saving jawbreaker.
Desperate or not, it seems to do the trick as Hurt secures her hold and drops downwards, Alison responding with a pained grimace as her chin is locked in placed and SLAMMED down hard across the joint. With a spasm she rocked away from the impact, vaulting over onto her side as she cradled her noggin, the FAWNatics imploring with her to recover quickly as she reached outwards towards the nearest set ropes and leverage.
But Hurt is hardly better. She sits bleary-eyed, trying to shake some of her senses back into place as blood starts to flow back into her brain. Clearly not aware of her surroundings, Deborah pushes to her feet and pirouettes into a wobbling gait leading her not to Nurse Manners, but Alexis Atlantic in the opposite corner. The naughty nurse reaches out her right hand to the little Lioness in hopes of a respite from the tag war.
Of which there was none to be found in Atlantic waters. With her wounded wing still held tightly across her bosom, Alexis could none the less not resist the opportunity for a little payback. Braving the waves of agony that ripped throughout her dismantled shoulder, the smallest women in the contest exercised the use of both her limbs to reach over the top rope and cup her palms across the back of Deborah’s neck, soon allowing gravity to lend her a helping hand. Stepping backwards, the All American Ass Kicker plummeted downwards off the apron, whiplashing Hurt’s throat towards a meeting with the top rope.
The dazed Deborah gets hotshotted off the top cable, the brunette spinning in a tight 180 and sent stumbling away, gasping and clutching at her throat. But at least this time, Nurse Hurt is headed toward the right ward. In serpentine fashion, she staggers toward her fellow Sister of Mercy and tags out to a much more helpful Nurse Manners.
Kristin pops through the ropes, her own aching shoulder having had time to improve. Manners races after Alison, trying to make sure she wouldn't be able to switch positions with her kin.
With the latest slapping of palms, the pairings were back to where they had started; only now Alison was looking noticeably woozy whilst Kristen was refreshed. Manners bore down upon Atlantic as the shell shocked blonde pulled herself up the ropes, turning about to face the brunette and... with a spark of clarity she surged forwards, grasping the charging nurse by her latex clad, firm thighs and shouting out with effort, the star spangled girl of high society looking to plant a crisp, clean, professional Spinebuster of her first ever rival.
Kristin tries to put on the brakes when she sees Atlantic spin and dip, but it's too late. Manners falls into the blonde's arms and the powerful Atlantic launches her foe off the canvas. Using Manners' momentum against her, Alison turns with Kristin in mid-air and drops to the thinly-sheathed plywood, SPIKING Kristin's vertebrae into the deck with a thundering collision. The force is enough that Manners bounces off the canvas an inch or two before she settles back to the canvas demolished.
Her first official Spinebuster a thrilling success by the sound of the roaring fans, Alison covers up the spread-eagled Kristin for...
ONE!
TWO!!
THRNOOO!
Manners is on life support but isn't dead yet as she throws up a shoulder.
Alison didn’t complain, although a nigh on unnoticeable dip of her head occurred before she steeled her resolve and pushed herself back upwards, the All American Athlete collecting Manners for the return to vertical. Covered in stars and gorgeous to boot, it was easy for the FAWNatics to adore her as the taller of the Atlantic twins folded her raven haired rival forwards and secured the standing headscissors. Indulging in but a single moment of indulgence, she stood up straight with faultless posture and pulled loose her pony tail, her gloriously blonde mane allowed to slip free about her shoulders as a signal that she was about to put this to bed.
Leaning back forwards, she wrapped her arms about Kristin’s tummy and, with an almighty huff, she lifted and spun the brunette up and over, moving to drape the other young women across her back as a precursor to the Finisher that had seen her sail through development, the ‘View From the Top!’
THE VIEW FROM THE TOP: @3:10
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ARGAdIiLblM
But as Kristin slides into backpack position for what would be a match-fatal condition, she shakes free from Alison's grip and lands on her boots behind Atlantic. Reaching over her shoulder with both hands, Kristin manages to coral Alison's braincase in her grip and pull the blonde's head and neck down across her shoulder. She starts to leap, hoping to extend her legs and sit out, thereby testing Alison's neck to the breaking point and turn this match and Atlantic on her head.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y21baf3cF3c
The FAWNatics cried out a warning, but their protests were for naught as Alison’s peepers of bright blue were startled for but a moment as her head was roughly curled back. Utterly unprepared for the counter, the blonde folded painfully with the downwards momentum, the soles of her boots soon ripped off the canvas before her head and shoulders were introduced to the unyielding plywood by way of a SMASH!! A sharp jolt rand throughout her athletically sculptured body before she tucked over onto her side, the star spangled beauty weakly kicking the canvas with her toe groaning.
Kristin passes on the pin attempt and instead pushes wearily to her feet, dragging a rubbery Alison there as well. Sensing more than a little give in the blonde battler, Manners goes for broke, the nurse wanting to put Alison's first match in the morgue instead of surgery. Keeping hold of Atlantic's left wrist, Kristin slips behind Alison, capturing a chickenwing Armbar on the blonde. She continues to spin around Atlantic, ending chest to chest, but with the Armbar still tacked in place. It's then Kristin dips to try and lift Atlantic into a bearhug, her foe's feet off the deck, then transfer one grip to behind Atlantic's neck, tuck her foe, and drive Alison into unconsciousness with her Crash Cart...
www.youtube.com/watch?v=D1RztkPvxH4
Already shell shocked, Alison was further disorientated by the pivots and spins that Manners used to tie her up for execution. With bright blue eyes blurry and refusing to focus, she guffed out of a small groan and then a soft moan as she was hupped off her unsteady feet and squeezed in a brief, yet fierce bearhug, one that encouraged her to pop open her thighs and wrap her long stems about the brunette’s hips. That, unfortunately, was precisely what her first ever rival wanted and, with her golden curled noggin wrenched down into a noose, Alison was tucked up tight into a delectable, painful ball. With her free arm she pushed and batted against Kristen’s latex sheathed hip, but the small sign of resistance seemed only to invite pleasure into the smile of Manner’s before the Naughty Nurse THREW herself backwards and SPIKED the crown of the All American Athlete into the middle of the canvas, a thunderous collision echoing about the arena.
With her entire body spasming from the impact, Alison slopped from her enforced ball the moment she was released, the young women tumbling over to sitting with her legs spread open in a wide V. She stayed there for a long moment, her slender shoulders slumped and her head slooooooowly lolling backwards, the star spangled beauty exposing her throat to the world before she puddled over into a limp limbed starfish.
Kristin collected both pairs of unresponsive legs and rolled Alison back up into yet another tight ball, this time pointing her rival’s firm buttocks to the heavens and going for the pinfall.
ONE!
TWO!!
Alexis, with a wounded and damn near dismantled wing... was unable to re-enter the ring fast enough to intervene...
THREE!!!
With the third slap of the mat, Nurse Manners lets the deadweight of Alison's stems fall to the mat. She pie faces the beaten blonde in insulting fashion. "It looks like welcome backs are a little bit better than welcomes to FAWN, eh blondie?"
As Kristin rises to place a boot on Alison's bosom, the ring announcer makes even more plain the already obvious. "Your winners, by pinfall, the Sisters of Mercy."
Alexis tries to shove Kristin off her sister and check on her sibling, but Deborah, also having joined the party, takes offense. She grabs Alexis by her injured shoulder and sends the little Atlantic packing, running her to the ropes and tossing her over the top. "You're ambulatory you little brat. Get to the ER on your own."
Wiping her hands in satisfaction, Deborah rejoins her fellow nurse in straddling the demolished Alison, the Sisters of Mercy making a dramatic statement at the Atlantics' expense. The Sisters' previous time in FAWN might have been less than successful, but with their new advanced degrees in nursing techniques, plenty of roster members would be heading to the hospital soon enough.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gdu9Kzt1yOM
As the stirring guitar riff ripped across the impressive sound system of the packed Orlando Arena, the FAWNatics were already feeling compelled to begin cheering even before the bombastic drum beat joined in, and when that occurred, all bets were off. The applause was immediate as Alexis; the shorter of the siblings pushed through the curtains without a hint of hesitation as she squared her shoulders, planted one fist on hips and punched the other upwards into the air, pre-emptively cueing an explosion of red, white and blue kinetics.
ALEXIS ATLANTIC
Alison arrived the barest of heartbeats later and stood assuredly at centre stage, the five foot seven blonde beauty filling out her sky blue two piece with one hundred and thirty pounds of All American Athlete. A sublime specimen, the young woman with a gaze of sapphire proudly wore the hallmarks of her nation’s flag, the sports bra and boy cut shorts embezzled with a smattering of white stars, her calf high boots the colour of ruby red. With her feet braced firmly apart, Atlantic carried herself with the unmistakeable air of good breeding, her posture perfect, her shoulders straight, demeanour cool and her smile, however slight, effortlessly disarming. As she stood with one hand on hip and the other held up high in salute, the packed audience popped with positive applause and a hearty chorus of cheers, both of the Atlantic girls having earned themselves a positive reception since their recent arrival on the House Show circuit.
ALISON ATLANTIC
Alexis, the pocket blonde beside her cut an equally impressive figure, carved with curves in all the right places as she stood wrapped in a stunning, red and white two piece, the stripes of her Nations flag worn along with her boots of sapphire blue and white stars. The moxie Alexis possessed in spades allowed her to fill out her five foot four, one hundred and twenty pound frame better than some could fill out six. Her smirk was slight and matched her eyes, self assured and utterly ready to ‘bring it’ before the fierce, feisty spitfire dropped her fist and rolled her shoulders, those that sat firmly within the confines of her father’s bomber jacket, before setting off down the ramp.
The shorter of the Atlantic Twins evidently was not here to waste time, leaving the taller of the twins eating her dust with her strides swift and accompanied by a definite strut, one accustomed to facing her problems head on and refusing to ever back down, the very image of the hard fighting, American Heroine she and her sister were fast becoming. She reached out to slap hands, not holding back as she smacked the volunteered palms as hard as possible, her smirk transforming into a grin as she came closer to the ring.
Meanwhile, after a few chords further, Alison began her own journey down the ramp, her hips shimmying ever so slightly as her long strides showed not a hint of hesitation or hurry. She moved from one side of the isle to the other, taking a selection of hands that were held out towards her with short, polite shakes, the tilt of her head and the curl of her lips betraying the signs of a born diplomat, her words watching her every P and Q and her mannerisms that of an exceptional schooling.
Predictably the first to reach the squared circle, Alexis ignored the well trodden path of the steel steps and instead hopped up onto the apron, pulling herself up with a firm grip of the top coil. She turned on the spot, capturing the perfect moment within her music’s intro and snapped a bicep flex pose, effortlessly encouraging a fresh pop of cheers as the smirk was back in place, the image of a sublimely sculptured, hard hitting pocket brawler.
With a pivot and turn, she snapped her frame into the ring with a quick duck and step between the top and middle ropes, hopping into a quick few strides towards its centre as she indulged in a brief moment of shadow boxing. With a final roll of her shoulders she shrugged off her jacket, balling it up before delivering a quick kiss against one badge in memory of her departed father and entrusting it into the safe keeping of a ringside official.
Her respects given, Atlantic was back to being all business, slamming her fists together twice before waiting impatiently for her long, lost and noticeably more refined sibling.
Alison arrived a good dozen paces later, saluting again as she reached the ring, a small bounce entering her stride as she neared the steel steps, the young women silkily slipping her blonde mane back into a neat, loose and tidy pony tail as her heart began skipping a few beats faster. Alison puffed out her cheeks, however momentarily, before she began her ascent into the squared circle, ducking between the top and middle ropes before pivoting her frame out onto the canvas for the first time as a PPV competitor in the Orlando Arena.
As one Alison and Alexis raised up their hands in welcome as a second wave of pyros erupted at the rings corners, no doubt a splurge made in honour of their debut status and, as Alexis came to stand beside her, they were again bathed in the colours of their country, regardless of which side of the social line they had both come from.
The girl of high society rolled her shoulders and slowly began to back pedal towards her corner, Alison massaging her wrists as she set about controlling her breathing and taking stock her surroundings. Her parents had not been... overly pleased by her choices of late, and while they had stopped short of condemning their surprisingly ‘wilful’ twenty-one-year-old daughter, they struggled to understand why she had come here. Truth be told, so did she, the product of the finest wrestling schools that money could buy was, some had put it, slumming it in FAWN, the girl who could buy her way into any league opting to start at one which was, while undoubtedly world recognised, none the less proudly boasted a somewhat ‘dubious’ reputation.
She knew why of course, Alexis had earned herself a spot here, through graft, through sweat, through sacrifice, and she would no doubt pitch a fit if Alison tried to use her connections to swan her off elsewhere. Her sister was here, her flesh and blood, a twin she’d never knew she’d had until they had fought back to back, and so there was no-where else to be. Alison nodded, assured that this was the best way, the taller of the Atlantic sisters rolling her shoulders one last time, the All American Athlete primed, the blonde beauty ready for all challengers that could be set against her.
A year, five years...ten...they were going to be the FAWN Tag Champions, and that journey began here.
Bon Jovi’s Bad Medicine interrupts the cheers for the oceanic siblings in the ring, ‘big hair music’ from the 80s pumping through the speakers, turning all attention to the stage above.
@ 00:35
www.youtube.com/watch?v=eOUtsybozjg
And through the curtains two brunettes, obviously from the sexiest hospital in all creation, stride seductively to the centre, arm in arm. The gorgeous grapplers settle, one with an extra large syringe in hand, the other with a straightjacket. The ladies show off their wares to jeers from the crowd.
DEBORAH HURT
KRISTIN MANNERS
To say the women’s attire is eyecatching would be an understatement. Both dark-haired beauties wear stylized, fetishized versions of a nurse’s uniform, namely white latex halters with short, short skirts, a flash of red occasionally seen from beneath, nylons fastened by garters leading to ankle boots. They both wear elbow-length gloves of the same ivory latex as their skirts and finish with white knee and elbow pads, both containing red crosses. The nurses also have surgical masks, though they hang around their necks, perhaps put in place for the nasty procedures they hope to perform. The public address spits to life as the women sashay toward the ring.
“They are from Parts and Surgical Suites unknown…at a combined weight of 255 pounds…the nefarious nurses…the Sisters of Mercy…Deborah Hurt and Kristin Manners!"
Both alleged medical professionals ignore the boos and reaching hands of the fans and make their way to the ring, The FAWNatics seem spellbound as the team circles the squared circle, some coughing so they can be checked by the raucous RNs. The assembled admire Deborah's seemingly endless legs and Kristin's bountiful chest enough to silence their catcalls as the women glide by.
The Sisters keep oddly disturbing smiles in place, their “bedside manner” altogether eerie yet seductive. Reaching the steps they move up slowly and carefully, taking each in turn before the brunettes slide into the ring through the ropes on either side of their corner. After placing the syringe and straightjacket neatly in place by the ring post, the nurses huddle, talking in hushed tones about their prescription for the siblings across the ring. Having arrived at the proper diagnosis, Nurse Deborah exits, taking her station outside. That leaves leaving the voluptuous Nurse Kristin to start the festivities and she stretches her latex gloves to make sure she’s ready to operate.
Despite being the genuine sisters in the ring, the Atlantic Alliance weren’t quite as on the same page as those of the Mercy variety, Alexis stepping forwards without a word of consultation being uttered. “I’m up...”
“Second,” Alison corrected with the smallest of smiles, a light hand upon her siblings shoulder halting her advance, Alexis startled into a short stumble. Her protest was disarmed as she found herself turned about and patted outside the ring, not entirely sure how exactly her sister had shepherded her in the opposite of her desired direction with such a minimal amount of effort. Shaking her head slightly, Alexis huffed, opting to keep her silence this once but making sure everyone knew she wasn’t happy about it.
“I’ll line her up,” Alison assured, placating her more compact sibling slightly with the implication before turning towards Kristin and giving her first, professional rival her full attention. Physically speaking, Alexis was outmatched by both of their opponents tonight, and regardless of how much she may dislike it, Alison was not sending out her sister to feed the wolves before she’d had the chance to gain their measure.
The bell chimed a moment later and, as the FAWNatics began applauding to get the match going, the blonde and brunette met at centre ring for a fierce collar and elbow tie up, Alison looking to slip about and tie the one time nurse up in a Full Nelson.
Manners flexes her sinew with the blonde, trying to gain the leverage advantage. The duo waltz for several seconds, testing their strength against each other when Alison jukes left and spins right, catching the naughty nurse off balance. Atlantic deftly makes her way around the befuddled brunette and just as quickly sneaks her arms under and around those of Kristin, lacing her fingers behind the neck of the mischievous caregiver. Kristin shrugs her shoulders trying to break loose and, when that fails, she swings her body from side to side, trying to break free of the nelson but, at least initially, she is unable.
“Behave,” Alison insisted as she held on night, riding out the thrashing with a deft dancing of her feet, the well schooled, well practiced movements keeping pace with her thrashing adversary. The former Jungle Tag Champion however was wily, and with each pivot the duo was being circled towards the one corner of the ring that was undoubtedly hazardous for the Alliance. The warning that was shouted by the FAWNatics was well taken and Alison dropped her hold, sleekly switching from full nelson to belly to back bearhug, an intended suplex not far behind.
“I said behave!”
Apparently, the nurse has a different idea of acceptable behavior than Miss Atlantic, as even with the blonde tightly embracing her from behind, Manners tries to swing her foe toward her fellow nurse. But before Kristin can manage, Alison shows she'll be able to pack some power into her team, easily plucking Manners off the deck and sending her tumbling heels over head in an aborted back flip that ends with Kristin's head and shoulders SLAMMING to the canvas. Kristin somersaults to her chest, cradling the back of her head, her boots pattering against the canvas. She starts to rise, making it to all fours, before taking a moment to compose.
“YES!!” Alexis cheered from ringside, her disgruntlement at being sidelined clearly being forgotten as she pumped her fist, rallying their supporters to do likewise as her sister took control.
Alison, meanwhile, made certain that her circling course took her in-between Kristin and her corner, the blonde making a point of making eye contact with Deborah at ringside, staring her down by way of silent promise before getting back to business. Collecting the rattled Manners, she slipped back on a firm Full Nelson, the brunette more complaint this time as fingers were laced behind a smooth neck and arms rendered impotent, the taller of the Atlantic Sisters backpedalling them towards Alliance territory.
Alexis was smirking, grasping the top rope as if it owed her money as the slim, silkily smooth shoulder of her sibling came within reach, the ‘stripes’ attired half of their combo completing the tag with a fraternal SLAP!! before she began to enthusiastically climb the ropes.
“Fast Tags!!” Alison felt the need to remind her sister, her struggle to keep a hold of the suddenly thrashing Kristin lending intensity to her previously composed demeanour. Unlinking her fingers, she SHOVED Manners forwards, fulfilling her pre-match promise.
“Yes Mom,” Alexis launched herself into the air, her wonderfully compact frame sailing like a cannonball as she used the top turnbuckle for her take off, reaching out like a cat diving for her catnip to collect Manners noggin and ride her to the canvas by way of Bulldog!
With Nurse Kristin held in place by one Atlantic the other heads North, scurrying to the uppermost pad. Alison nods and her sister does so in return before leaping from her perch. With the assist from sis, there's no way the nurse can counter and she's served on a plate to Alexis who snatches Manners' noggin on the way down and PLANTS it into the unforgiving deck with a ring-ratling THUD. As Alexis bounces on her behind, a slight wince emerging, Manners' forehead is her body part hitting canvas and there's a significant difference in reaction. Kristin bounces up to her knees and settles onto her haunches, dark eyes glazed as she wobbles next to the seated and beaming Alexis.
“That was for the Starr Sisters!” Alexis was certain to make the clear as she made a swift return to her own boot leather, referring to the infamous incident concerning body bags and taking things too far. With that duo currently unable to exact a pound of payback, the Babe of Brawl was more than willing to pick up the slack. “In fact, screw it, that’s only covers one, here’s something for the other!”
The smallest women in the ring took a few steps backwards before charging forwards, taking full advantage of Manners reduced stature and brought her boot up high to crack the taste out one women’s mouth for a full week.
@1:20
www.youtube.com/watch?v=oDoEiYTmrkM
Already dazed by the crisp teamwork of the blondes, Nurse Manners doesn't seem to be aware of the words or the approach of the precocious blonde. That's only proven to be the case when Alexis' raised boot CRACKS into Kristin's jaw, spinning her into a flopping pile of torso and limbs.
The crowd calls for 'NURSE', joyfully razzing the Sisters of Mercy, one of their team is in desperate need of one at the moment. Kristin rolls to her back, staring blankly into the lights above while in the far corner, Nurse Hurt shares a threat with Alexis, shouting the blonde will need her "services" after the match and that the "Sisters" might have a body bag with HER name on it.
“Oh yeah?” Alexis was spinning on her heel the moment Deborah started to give it some mouth, leaving the sprawled Kristin behind and marching across the ring, setting her shoulders and letting Hurt know that she had become the sole focus of the attention. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten that you were there as well, tonight or another night, karma is a bytch!”
Alison was trying to get her twins attention, but with the miniature mass of her counterpart out of reach she found her calming influence much diminished, the serene socialite leaning forwards against the ropes and tentatively switching her gaze between her sibling and the recovering Manners. “Alexis!” she clapped her hands together, the FAWNatics taking her growing exasperation as their signal to begin doing likewise, the Alliance faithful taking up the beat throughout the crowd as they were somewhat accidently rallied.
It did the trick none the less, Alexis staring down the taller Deborah for just a moment longer before getting back to what she should be, namely scraping the shell shocked Kristin off the canvas and returning her to the Atlantics corner.
The blonde strides to her fallen foe and surrounds the head of Nurse Manners, pulling the dazed brunette up to one knee with one tug before preparing to get her to vertical with another...
On the way up Kristin brings an uppercut to the gut of her foe, folding Alexis up with a loud grunt. Grabbing a two handfuls of flaxen locks, Kristin follows up with a headbutt to the bridge of Atlantic's nose that staggers Alexis then raises a boot to try and deliver some white shoe leather to the blonde's belly, so she can capture Alexis in a tight cradle, lift her off the deck, and place her back down roughly with a fisherman's suplex.
The rapid fire combo had rendered the smaller women compliant, the petite blonde folded forwards and tucked in tight, one arm slipped across the shoulders of the brunette as one, wonderfully athletic limb was hooked. Already diminutively packaged, the FAWNatics protested as their favourite, flag attired brawler was further compressed into an even smaller, perfectly curved ball, the All American Ass Kicker tightly bound and, momentarily disorientated, proved to be little burden for Kristin to swing up, over and SLAMMED all the way down into the canvas, a “GRUNT!!” upon her lips as her small body shuddered and her arms flopped out to either side, her spine and shoulders absorbing the brunt of the impact.
ONE!!
The Official began his count as Kristin held on for a pin, Alexis all but immediately bursting her way out to freedom, arms and legs thrusting out in all directions as she shook off the cobwebs. With an angry groan she rolled onto her front, the blonde cradling her back as she considered going for her corner.
But Manners has something else in mind when Atlantic reaches all fours. She drops astride the back of the blonde, mounting her like golden-maned pony. Manners reaches for Alexis' face and curls a couple fingers of her right hand inside her foe's nostrils. She yanks Alexis' head up viciously. "The doctor isn't in at the moment, dear," the naughty nurse growls, "but I hear you're having some vision problems. I'll see what I can do." With her left hand, Kristin takes a sideways swipe at Atlantic's baby blue peepers, planning to rake her ruby nails across the eyes and make her "patient" a lot more amenable to the prescriptions to come.
What was to follow was a cry that was as angry as it was pained, the pretty peepers of the smaller blonde raked by the nails of the merciless brunette, the fire in Alexis’s tone unable to hide her torment as she clasped her palms across her wounded lids. As the smaller of the two Atlantics hissed and grasped at her own teary features, it was the taller of the duo who made her own voice known.
“Manners!” Alison used the surname by way of quite threat as she pushed the limits of her match defined boundaries to their utmost, the same top dollar schooling that had shaped the socialite into an All American Athlete now serving only root her boot leather to the canvas. “You only get one warning...”
Kristin pulls the blinded blonde to her feet and leads her toward the less than Merciful corner. "I'm sorry," she says over her shoulder to Alison. "Unless you have a medical degree, Nurse Hurt and I don't care about any of YOUR warnings."
With a handful of golden locks in her right hand, and having reached her corner, Kristin SLAMS Alexis' head into the top buckle. She seems to get an almost sensual satisfaction from the impact and repeats the process another four times before reaching her hand to her partner in "caregiving".
When Deborah is made legal, she heads for the heights much like Alexis had earlier and, while she does; Kristin comes from behind, dipping her head between Alexis' thighs. Its clear Manners plans to lift Atlantic high onto her shoulders and that Deborah will be coming off with a clothesline, Hurt loading up her arm as she waits for Alexis to rise in front of her.
With her head whiplashing off the turnbuckle a good five times in quick succession, Alexis found herself slumped forwards in the wrong corner, a shimmy present in her firm thighs as Manners tucked her head between them, her stems opening to allow admittance as she was lifted skywards by way of electric chair. Blinded peepers half lidded, the blonde curled noggin on the Babe of Brawl bobbed upon her usually defiant shoulders as she sat upon her rivals, blinking as she reached out for what her befuddled mind half believed was her sibling.
Instead it was Deborah, the second brunette in latex introducing herself to the contest as she sailed into the air, the flying clothesline a scythe as the resulting impact all but beheaded the served up Alexis, a sharp “GRUHGH!!” ripped out of her petite body as she tumbled. With an almost three hundred and sixty degree spiral, the smallest of the Atlantics was ripped off Kristin’s shoulders and sent ground wards, a loud THUNK! accompanied by a dull “GRUNT!” as her miniature mass met the plywood and shook the ring.
With arms and legs outstretched, she was in no rush this time to roll over onto hands and knees.
The sultry 'Sister' lands on hands and knees and turns to the gobsmacked Alexis to admire her work. She 'walks' on all fours to the splattered Atlantic and gives a taste-removing slap to the cheek to revive her. Nurse Hurt rises, drawing Alexis with her, and noticing the shiny white latex upon her seems to have hypnotized the referee from starting a count, calls to Kristin to take one arm by the wrist while she takes the other.
The 'Sisters' force Alexis to the ropes to get a little bounce from the cables then whip her away with the impetus of both nurses. Alexis hits the opposite cables and rebounds with Kristin and Deborah racing toward her, hands joined at the level of the blonde's throat, prepared to rip Alexis off her feet with a double clothesline.
It was with a series of quietly muttered curses that Alexis had been hoisted up and pushed back into the ropes by two sets of hands, her noggin slumped forwards and her elfin chin pointed down between her stripes clad bosoms. The will was there, but not the power, her body still recovering as the two taller, stronger brunettes yanked her forwards into a sprint that took her clean across the ring. Her curls were bouncing as the wind whipped against her features, and it was with slightly more awareness that she hit the coils opposite, turning into them as she heard a shouted warning, this time coming from the real Alison and not merely her imagination.
Compelled to listen on some instinctive level, Alexis turned her diminutive stature to her advantage and, at the last moment, ducked below the duel set of limbs that were set to behead her twice in as many minutes. The FAWNatics ROARED in renewed approval as she scooted straight past them both, nimbly avoiding the disastrous impact and instead heading straight back to where her unwanted journey had started.
She hit the ropes again, this time under her own power as she spun into them and her pace became rapid, the All American Ass Kicker charging towards centre ring and – a startled gurgle replaced a growing war cry as a duel set of hands stopped her dead and latched about her throat. The Sisters of Mercy had been ready for the rebound and, as they both claimed an arm each to sling across their latex clad shoulders, the two brunettes hoisted the ragdolled blonde up high, swung her like a pendulum and BURIED her back down into the middle of the canvas by way of double choke slam.
Alexis recoiled from the impact with a sharp spasm, groaning as she bounced and rolled over, hands cradling her neck as she remained surrounded by her opponents.
With Alexis demolished after the dual slam, Nurse Manners decides it's time to leave the ring before a DQ comes from the ref.
The diminutive Atlantic is left to the devices of Nurse Hurt and the 'caregiver' knows just how to work over a body part. 'Helping' Alexis to all fours, Deborah steps over her foe's left arm and leaps into the air, jamming the poor blonde's shoulder viciously. She repeats the process another couple times before dismounting. But she's far from done.
Forcing Alexis to her feet, she dips and scoops Atlantic off the deck, flipping her onto her right shoulder, apparently for a body slam. But the naughty nurse shifts her grip, bringing the squirmy blonde more in front of her body, ready to drop to one knee and send that left shoulder falling toward the bony joint to leave Atlantic with only one working arm.
As silently as she watched, it was obvious to one and all that Alison was desperate for her sibling to slip free, the taller of the two trapped outside the squared circle and unable to intervene, gripping the top coil as she leaned pensively forwards. As ready as she was to leap into renewed action, it was Alexis that needed to do so, and no amount of willing it to happen from Alison could make it a reality as the blonde inside the ring remained slung across a shoulder and, after Deborah turned so that the taller sibling received the best possible view, was dropped viciously towards a waiting knee.
With a CRACK!! accompanying the fresh shout from Alexis, her slender shoulder was THUNKED!! onto a joint in a wicked collision that only one of them could win. The little lioness cursed as her petite package of a street fighting body jerked into a sharp spasm before she crumpled and slumped over onto the mat. The curses were quite yet persistent as her boot tapped against the canvas, one arm limp as she lay upon the mat, still fighting to drag herself back towards her team’s corner.
Her white latex-clad tormentor makes sure she's between Alexis and her sister. She grins and points at Alison before sending a stomp down to Alexis' injured wing.
Deborah grabs the left wrist of the blonde and gives it a wicked tug as she pulls Atlantic back to her feet for more 'therapy'. Hurt raises the aching arm, dipping underneath it while twisting. With the arm above her shoulder, Hurt sits out, drawing Alexis's arm down across her in an over the shoulder armbreaker.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=BISKV8Oe1_0
Alexis bounces back to her feet and staggers away in pain. The bigger brunette hops to her feet and trails. She reacquires the limb and uses it to Irish whip Alexis to the opposite ropes. When the little Lioness rebounds, Nurse Hurt takes off in a collision course, dipping to spear the flaxen-haired grappler in two.
If there was any life left in the targeted limb, Alexis wasn’t showing it as she slumped heavily to one side, wincing as she was forcibly dragged from one direction and then the other, Alison watching on with ever increasing concern. While she keeps her silence, the taller blonde began clapping, intentionally bringing the FAWNatics into play this time as they joined in, a thunderous percussion following Alexis as she was launched towards the ropes.
The All American Ass Kicker hit the coils and with a renewed hiss before she flew back out towards centre ring, Deborah taking to the air herself and...
“PISS OFF!!” Alexis roared, throwing one of her athletic stems up on a desperate gamble, the smallest women in the ring kicking out and moving to intercept the hurtling head of Hurt with a Big Boot from hell!!
Atlantic's boot finds the dipped head of the naughty nurse, namely on the chin, the tanned brunette's charge is halted in an instant. To the nurse's credit, she stays upright but pirouettes in a daze, Deborah all wobbly butt, her legs more than shaky. From the sidelines, Nurse Manners calls for her fellow Sister of Mercy to come to her and switch out, but Hurt seems unaware of the request, all her effort put into keeping off her pert, latex-sheathed ass cheeks.
In the battle for verticality, Alexis was not to so lucky, the ludicrous collision whipping those watching into a cheer just as it jack knifed the small blonde into a blinding spiral. With no centre of balance to begin with, her one eighty pirouette was beyond control before she landed right back down upon the canvas, barely moving as she shovelled in pained breadths.
Sensing her distress, the FAWNatics renewed their clapping, a thunderous applause that increased in tempo and, this time, had needed no prompting from Alison. Which was all well and good, as the star spangled young women in question was otherwise occupied, leaning forwards over the top rope and stretching out her right arm as far with possible. With one wary eye on Hurt, Alison implored with her sibling to get moving, opening and closing her fingers as nothing more than her million dollar schooling kept more colourful language entering her vocabulary.
Hurt was looking better by the moment and Alexis... burst into renewed life, if only for a moment, scrambling from the mat and leaping, diving with a shout as her the palm of her hand slapped her twins and the two switched places. The All American Athlete had needed no further prompting, inside the squared circle before her sibling had landed back down against it, diving into a spear to reclaim the contest!!
Nurse Hurt nearly gets torn in two from the tackle, her body folding around Alison. The grunt as her breath escapes her is loud and guttural and the newly legal Atlantic DRIVES Deborah into the deck with incredible pent up energy behind the blasting blow.
Sensing a foreboding change of momentum, Nurse Manners dips through the ropes, determined to make this change a short one.
But whereas Deborah writhes on the mat gut shot, Alison is back on her feet. She surges toward the charging Kristin and decks her second naughty nurse in seconds with a blistering clothesline. Manners scrambles to her feet, but is met with another. Again, Kristin pushes to her boot leather, if slowly before a dropkick from Alison keeps her down.
The crowd roars as Atlantic stand triumphant over the Sisters of Mercy. She reaches down and gathers up each with a handful of dark hair. Drawing her opponents closer, she uses her grips to pull their heads back, the wide-eyed nurses pleading with Alison not to provide the 'caregivers' a meeting of the minds.
In this case, however, the All American Athlete clearly thought it was in everyone’s best interests if the faux siblings shared a thought or two between them and, with a note of satisfaction she would never admit to, brought their foreheads together with a THUNK!! Both of the Nurses recoiled with blanked eyed peepers, and it was Hurt who found her brunette mane released, left to slink bonelessly to the canvas whilst the blonde retained her attention on Kristen.
“I told you Manners, one warning” Alison explained as she securely cupped her first ever, professional rival behind her neck and, a moment later, secured a latex belt. As if she were slinging a sack of potatoes, the dazzling young women of high society pivoted and moved to hurl the illegal entrant not only outside the ring, but into her corners steel post on the way there, “I don’t make a habit of repeating myself!!”
Alison gives her nurse the bum's rush toward the Sisters' corner and sends Manner hurtling through, Kristin continuing until her shoulder hits the unforgiving steel. The crowd gives a momentary groan of sympathy as Manners flops through the ropes and writhes on the apron in misery, clutching her arm, in need of some serious nursing in her own right.
Meanwhile, Deborah pushed to her feet while Atlantic took out the trash. She moves toward a turning Alison, head and body wobbly, her eyes still glassy. Still, she offers a wild right handed haymaker toward Atlantic. Perhaps seeing two Alison’s after her head-on collision with Kristin, she hopes to hit the one that's really there.
With the barest opening of surprise from her bright blue peepers, Alison turned about only in time to receive a closed fist blow against her cheek, one that rocked the star spangled wonder into a stumble. The two on one scenario had caught up with her at the very last moment and the young women’s enforced retreat ended quickly as her back met the uppermost turnbuckle of the ‘Sisters’ corner, her arms draping instinctively across the top ropes to either side of her.
Deborah followed through, knowing an opening when she saw it, ducking low to take advantage of the teams unfair play and plough her shoulder deep into the softly sculptured and exposed tummy of the flag attired heroine. Alison responded with an almost visible gust of air, her cheeks puffing outwards as she recoiled painfully, pinned between her opponent and the ringpost as her lungs expelled their air. With a juddering moan she groaned, curling forwards slightly with one long, athletic stem bent upwards at the knee, her slim tummy curved about the hard shoulder of her opponent.
"You think you're above getting injected with some reality," Deborah huffs through laboured breaths. "You're about to find out how good your health insurance is.” Hurt bullies Alison out of the corner, tugging her by a wrist. With that in her possession, the brunette beauty reaches an arm across the back of Atlantic's neck and dips to get the balance needed to vault the bigger blonde into the air. With a deep grunt, Nurse Hurt tries to lift Alison heavenward and toss the blonde over her shoulder, hoping to plant the newly entered Atlantic on her head and shoulders with a wrist clutch exploder suplex.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=lMLZ0rJsiJo
Winded and with the momentum stolen from her, the All American Athlete was in little shape to protest as she was tugged back out to middle ring, peepers blinking as she was dragged into position. Her own legs popped as she was lifted skywards... only for Hurt to soon realise, however far too late, that much of the uplift had been generated by Atlantic as well!
Just as they were about to reach the apex of the forced flight, Alison slipped free, her loose pony tail bobbing across her slender shoulders as she pivoted and landed lightly, front to back with Hurt as the brunette took her turn to be startled. “My health insurance could cover a small nation,” the blonde latched on, just as capable of spotting an opening as her opponents, wrapping her arms about Deborah’s slender neck to lock in a Sleeper, “I’d be more concerned about your own!”
Deborah's dark eyes go wide in immediate panic as she can feel Alison's arms snake around her head and neck, cutting off the blood supply at her carotid and temple. Hurt knows better than most how Atlantic can turn off her consciousness in a hurry. But her initial struggles prove fruitless as she weaves around the ring trying to shake Alison off unsuccessfully. Prying doesn't work. Twisting doesn't work. And Deborah's face gets more pale by the second, her lids fluttering and her legs offering a shimmy.
Kristin screams at her partner to make it to the nurses' corner, but Atlantic steers her away. In desperation, Hurt sends her arms behind her, trying to wrap them around the back of Alison's noggin, then drop to her backside and nail Atlantic's chin with a match saving jawbreaker.
Desperate or not, it seems to do the trick as Hurt secures her hold and drops downwards, Alison responding with a pained grimace as her chin is locked in placed and SLAMMED down hard across the joint. With a spasm she rocked away from the impact, vaulting over onto her side as she cradled her noggin, the FAWNatics imploring with her to recover quickly as she reached outwards towards the nearest set ropes and leverage.
But Hurt is hardly better. She sits bleary-eyed, trying to shake some of her senses back into place as blood starts to flow back into her brain. Clearly not aware of her surroundings, Deborah pushes to her feet and pirouettes into a wobbling gait leading her not to Nurse Manners, but Alexis Atlantic in the opposite corner. The naughty nurse reaches out her right hand to the little Lioness in hopes of a respite from the tag war.
Of which there was none to be found in Atlantic waters. With her wounded wing still held tightly across her bosom, Alexis could none the less not resist the opportunity for a little payback. Braving the waves of agony that ripped throughout her dismantled shoulder, the smallest women in the contest exercised the use of both her limbs to reach over the top rope and cup her palms across the back of Deborah’s neck, soon allowing gravity to lend her a helping hand. Stepping backwards, the All American Ass Kicker plummeted downwards off the apron, whiplashing Hurt’s throat towards a meeting with the top rope.
The dazed Deborah gets hotshotted off the top cable, the brunette spinning in a tight 180 and sent stumbling away, gasping and clutching at her throat. But at least this time, Nurse Hurt is headed toward the right ward. In serpentine fashion, she staggers toward her fellow Sister of Mercy and tags out to a much more helpful Nurse Manners.
Kristin pops through the ropes, her own aching shoulder having had time to improve. Manners races after Alison, trying to make sure she wouldn't be able to switch positions with her kin.
With the latest slapping of palms, the pairings were back to where they had started; only now Alison was looking noticeably woozy whilst Kristen was refreshed. Manners bore down upon Atlantic as the shell shocked blonde pulled herself up the ropes, turning about to face the brunette and... with a spark of clarity she surged forwards, grasping the charging nurse by her latex clad, firm thighs and shouting out with effort, the star spangled girl of high society looking to plant a crisp, clean, professional Spinebuster of her first ever rival.
Kristin tries to put on the brakes when she sees Atlantic spin and dip, but it's too late. Manners falls into the blonde's arms and the powerful Atlantic launches her foe off the canvas. Using Manners' momentum against her, Alison turns with Kristin in mid-air and drops to the thinly-sheathed plywood, SPIKING Kristin's vertebrae into the deck with a thundering collision. The force is enough that Manners bounces off the canvas an inch or two before she settles back to the canvas demolished.
Her first official Spinebuster a thrilling success by the sound of the roaring fans, Alison covers up the spread-eagled Kristin for...
ONE!
TWO!!
THRNOOO!
Manners is on life support but isn't dead yet as she throws up a shoulder.
Alison didn’t complain, although a nigh on unnoticeable dip of her head occurred before she steeled her resolve and pushed herself back upwards, the All American Athlete collecting Manners for the return to vertical. Covered in stars and gorgeous to boot, it was easy for the FAWNatics to adore her as the taller of the Atlantic twins folded her raven haired rival forwards and secured the standing headscissors. Indulging in but a single moment of indulgence, she stood up straight with faultless posture and pulled loose her pony tail, her gloriously blonde mane allowed to slip free about her shoulders as a signal that she was about to put this to bed.
Leaning back forwards, she wrapped her arms about Kristin’s tummy and, with an almighty huff, she lifted and spun the brunette up and over, moving to drape the other young women across her back as a precursor to the Finisher that had seen her sail through development, the ‘View From the Top!’
THE VIEW FROM THE TOP: @3:10
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ARGAdIiLblM
But as Kristin slides into backpack position for what would be a match-fatal condition, she shakes free from Alison's grip and lands on her boots behind Atlantic. Reaching over her shoulder with both hands, Kristin manages to coral Alison's braincase in her grip and pull the blonde's head and neck down across her shoulder. She starts to leap, hoping to extend her legs and sit out, thereby testing Alison's neck to the breaking point and turn this match and Atlantic on her head.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y21baf3cF3c
The FAWNatics cried out a warning, but their protests were for naught as Alison’s peepers of bright blue were startled for but a moment as her head was roughly curled back. Utterly unprepared for the counter, the blonde folded painfully with the downwards momentum, the soles of her boots soon ripped off the canvas before her head and shoulders were introduced to the unyielding plywood by way of a SMASH!! A sharp jolt rand throughout her athletically sculptured body before she tucked over onto her side, the star spangled beauty weakly kicking the canvas with her toe groaning.
Kristin passes on the pin attempt and instead pushes wearily to her feet, dragging a rubbery Alison there as well. Sensing more than a little give in the blonde battler, Manners goes for broke, the nurse wanting to put Alison's first match in the morgue instead of surgery. Keeping hold of Atlantic's left wrist, Kristin slips behind Alison, capturing a chickenwing Armbar on the blonde. She continues to spin around Atlantic, ending chest to chest, but with the Armbar still tacked in place. It's then Kristin dips to try and lift Atlantic into a bearhug, her foe's feet off the deck, then transfer one grip to behind Atlantic's neck, tuck her foe, and drive Alison into unconsciousness with her Crash Cart...
www.youtube.com/watch?v=D1RztkPvxH4
Already shell shocked, Alison was further disorientated by the pivots and spins that Manners used to tie her up for execution. With bright blue eyes blurry and refusing to focus, she guffed out of a small groan and then a soft moan as she was hupped off her unsteady feet and squeezed in a brief, yet fierce bearhug, one that encouraged her to pop open her thighs and wrap her long stems about the brunette’s hips. That, unfortunately, was precisely what her first ever rival wanted and, with her golden curled noggin wrenched down into a noose, Alison was tucked up tight into a delectable, painful ball. With her free arm she pushed and batted against Kristen’s latex sheathed hip, but the small sign of resistance seemed only to invite pleasure into the smile of Manner’s before the Naughty Nurse THREW herself backwards and SPIKED the crown of the All American Athlete into the middle of the canvas, a thunderous collision echoing about the arena.
With her entire body spasming from the impact, Alison slopped from her enforced ball the moment she was released, the young women tumbling over to sitting with her legs spread open in a wide V. She stayed there for a long moment, her slender shoulders slumped and her head slooooooowly lolling backwards, the star spangled beauty exposing her throat to the world before she puddled over into a limp limbed starfish.
Kristin collected both pairs of unresponsive legs and rolled Alison back up into yet another tight ball, this time pointing her rival’s firm buttocks to the heavens and going for the pinfall.
ONE!
TWO!!
Alexis, with a wounded and damn near dismantled wing... was unable to re-enter the ring fast enough to intervene...
THREE!!!
With the third slap of the mat, Nurse Manners lets the deadweight of Alison's stems fall to the mat. She pie faces the beaten blonde in insulting fashion. "It looks like welcome backs are a little bit better than welcomes to FAWN, eh blondie?"
As Kristin rises to place a boot on Alison's bosom, the ring announcer makes even more plain the already obvious. "Your winners, by pinfall, the Sisters of Mercy."
Alexis tries to shove Kristin off her sister and check on her sibling, but Deborah, also having joined the party, takes offense. She grabs Alexis by her injured shoulder and sends the little Atlantic packing, running her to the ropes and tossing her over the top. "You're ambulatory you little brat. Get to the ER on your own."
Wiping her hands in satisfaction, Deborah rejoins her fellow nurse in straddling the demolished Alison, the Sisters of Mercy making a dramatic statement at the Atlantics' expense. The Sisters' previous time in FAWN might have been less than successful, but with their new advanced degrees in nursing techniques, plenty of roster members would be heading to the hospital soon enough.
