Post by SammieSinclair on May 10, 2015 21:07:50 GMT
When Lady Gaga’s ‘Applause’ starts its way through the sound system the immediate response is the same in kind from the crowd, the FAWNatics clearly excited to see if a longtime veteran if recent favorite can claim the Intercontinental gold.
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pco91kroVgQ )
Cheers echo throughout, a reaction unthinkable not long ago. But the brunette’s association with a certain motormouth and her general improved demeanor convinced a healthy percentage of fans she has true intentions with her new attitude or at least wants their applause.
DOMI DALY
The Leader of the Domi-Nation appears with the first verse, the tawny little hardbody decked out in a gleaming white leotard dusted with tiny stars in red, white and blue. The strategic rips remain, revealing several swatches of Daly’s trim midriff as was the perfectly-sculptured muscles of her shoulders, arms and thighs. The look is complete with matching white tape on her wrists and ankles. Daly dips her head and raises her hands to clap along with the chorus.
I live for the applause, applause, applause
I live for the applause-plause
Live for the applause-plause
Live for the way that you cheer and scream for me
The applause, applause, applause
Daly throws her head back, cups her hands around her mouth and shouted “HIT IT!” Just like that the lights turn strobe, flickering on and off so fast that even the most attentive fans couldn’t follow all of the effortlessly intricate series of tumbles, handsprings, flips and cartwheels that took the exotic brunette down the ramp. Tracking her is made all the more difficult by the thunderous trail of red and blue pyro that accompany her journey from one end of the aisle to the other.
When the lights regain their equilibrium Daly was *just* alighting on the top turnbuckle. Spine tingling with the electricity of a thousand awed voices, Dominique throws her hands overhead in a ‘V’, then takes their breath away again by launching into the sky for a spiraling descent planting her in the center of the ring.
“Tonight’s next match is scheduled for one fall and is for FAWN’s Intercontinental Championship. Hailing from Portland, Oregon, she stands five feet two inches tall and weighs in at one hundred and twelve pounds. She is the ORIGINAL Mighty Mite…and is now simply mitey awesome DOMINIQUE DALY!”
The crowd seems to agree with the announcement and roars as Domi back handstands her way to her corner and settles into an expectant crouch. And the arrival of the champion.
With her one-time partner in the ring, perhaps not friend as even when assisting each other there was the air of competition, the stirring guitar of The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus’ ‘You Better Pray’ crashes over the arena and the FAWNatics and Daly turn to the upper stage as one, the crowd ready to make sure the champion knows they are favoring a replacement.
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y_WxsL5q3I4 ).
The assembled release their disdain even before the once upon a time lightweight champion makes her appearance. The ring announcer’s pronouncement only draws the decibels higher.
“And…her opponent…AND the reigning Intercontinental Champion, hailing from the hallowed halls of Iowa City, Iowa… standing a full 4 feet 11 inches tall and weighing 117 pounds… The Golden Mite herself…JANEL MANNING!”
JANEL MANNING
With the introduction complete, the FAWNatics are made to wait before the Mite-y One comes into view. The arena falls into darkness. A red spotlight illuminates the stage from the right, before winking out. The process is followed by a white spot from directly overhead, then a blue one from the left. As the sequence began its second cycle, it provides the outline of a diminutive, muscular form. When the house lights rise, the tiny terror of vault, floor, and uneven bars parades down the ramp and aisle.
Having reclaimed her bona fides in fine fashion, battering and besting Sammie Sinclair after a year away from the organization, Manning had done what few if any thought possible in scalping Juliet Bloodwind for the Tempe Temptress’ title and claiming what Jenny Jacobs had once again made the #2 belt in the organization. And then to battle the new lightweight champion to a draw? Respect was unavoidable even if hate was inescapable.
Janel’s familiar flaxen ponytail swishes from one side to the other as she moves up the steps, the champ in a skin-tight pink leotard containing a leopard-spot pattern. The spandex has a single solid strap over her left shoulder, a thin trio of small neon green strips across the opposite number. She sports black wrist and ankle tape, pads and, as always, is without boots. Janel flexes her toes before flinging herself over the top cable without a hint of effort, dropping into a somersault, before popping gracefully to her feet.
But of course, most importantly of all her attire is the gaudy gilded belt she wears around her incredibly taut tummy. The ferocious fireplug paces down the length of the ropes, occasionally deigning to glance in Daly’s direction. Manning moves to the middle, unstraps her accessory and raises it high with her left hand while sweeping her right across her chiseled tummy. She asks for a microphone and plucks one from the air after a toss from a FAWN flunky.
“This is what I’m about!” the Mite shouts, “And it’s what you’ll always lack.”
The Golden Mite tosses the microphone away and moves to her corner where she more carefully transfers her IC belt to said flunky for safekeeping.
The surreal nature of the moment isn’t lost on the FAWNatics, the crowd roaring as Dominique and Janel react to the sound of the bell not with unbridled energy, but instead with a stride to the center of the ring. Each calm and stern, they and get so close as to lean forehead against forehead, tiny terrors jawing at each other under the rumble of those assembled.
One Mite would make right tonight, blonde or brunette, hated or lately loved, Golden or Mighty. And the thought these one-time partners in crime battling for the penultimate prize in all of the organization brings another level of unreal to the goosepimples bursting throughout the crowd.
Manning’s unexpected grasping of the Intercontinental title made the matchup a natural, their paths never crossing in Janel’s 2013 run as lightweight champ since both were on friendly terms at the time. And Domi’s only golden period, a painfully brief reign in 2006 of a long deceased title. Long before Janel’s arrival. Though an obvious headliner, Domi’s string of recent if under-the-radar good form made it more.
In the case of Janel’s career, she’d far exceeded her forerunning Mite and the Pac Rim beauty from Portland is relayed that information by a tongue-wagging Manning, prompting a chesting of spandex against spandex, the former gymnasts two bulls in a china ship…in miniature. One extra word from the champ apparently takes the discussion too far and Daly shoves the ponytailed blonde back several steps. Janel smirks, even as her face flushes.
“I left you in the chalk dust, Dominique,” Manning shouts, now more for mass consumption than their previous conversation. “These people know there’s only one Mite for the present and the future and when I leave with the gold tonight it will be set in stone you are the past.”
Unable to take anymore, Dominique rushes her muscular counterpart, right elbow cocked. Daly ready to bash those beaming pearlies rather than get gymnastic on Manning. But when the exotic Oregonian throws her blow, Janel deftly ducks beneath, Daly spinning in front of the blonde. Janel wraps her arms around the off-kilter Daly, tugs her into a tight bearhug from behind and tosses her foe overhead in a belly-to-back suplex.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, Domi somehow manages to land on her feet after the forced flip. It takes her only a split-second to regain her balance and charge Janel from behind, but Manning spins into an echoing kick of bare foot to temple that is so true, it straightens Daly’s taut frame like a board and she keels over like timber in an Oregon forest.
Flash Kick @ 00:06 (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wbuhHfTO1Ck )
Appearing instantly unconscious, Domi falls face first to the deck. Janel drops to the canvas after her, rolls Daly to her back, and climbs aboard in a full body, grapevine pin for ONE…TWO…and the near Olympian shoves the real thing off to stay alive and save herself from the ultimate humiliation.
But Domi has yet to save herself from Manning who gives a quick penetrating gaze at the ref before rising to her feet and tugging Daly to likewise uncovered soles. Drawing a wobbly Daly to a corner by the wrist, Janel shoves her one-time leader into the buckles, Daly already shuddering. But just as quickly, the brunette’s Irish whipped out of the corner.
Racing to the far corner, the impetus of the Golden Mite sending Daly sprinting to opposite buckles, Domi turns into a CRASHING collision. Throwing her arms over the top cable, Daly stays upright. And Janel is on her way, flooring it through a supercharged tumbling run that ends with a piercing backspring elbow to Dominique’s heart. The almond-shaped peepers of the Portland native cross as Manning presses her body close to keep Daly sandwiched. The blonde reaches back and collects Daly’s noggin with a side headlock, races forward and lifts off, abbreviated legs extended to sit out and bulldog the brunette.
But the veteran digs deep and adds a shout and a shove, pushing the already airborne Janel off from around her braincase before she can drag Dominique down with her. The champ lands on her taut derriere and a shockwave travels up and down her spine, Manning’s face registering the ache coursing through her column. She grasps her glutes as a delighted crowd claps for a staggered Domi to take advantage.
It seems a failure when the original Mite topples, but Daly has a maneuver in mind when she sits down behind Manning. Raising her sinewy stems, Domi places them over Janel’s shoulders and clamps down with a pressure-packed scissors. Janel’s hands reflexively move to the limbs, fruitlessly trying to pry her way free.
But Daly has more in mind than to squeeze the contents of the blonde’s head through her ears. She spins on her hands, forcing a 180-degree wheel of the foe below. Daly ends in push-up position with Manning’s head still trapped between her gams. Bringing her knees to the canvas, Domi also sends Janel’s face CRASHING there time and time again, giving the jubilant crowd a full ten-spot before releasing and pushing to her feet.
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l_x3OfF4bQU )
Somehow, the stubborn Manning is already on three of all fours, one hand pressed to her nose to make sure its alignment hasn’t changed. The offer is too much to pass up and Daly kicks Janel’s opposite arm out from under her and Janel’s chipmunk cheeks and the nose between them again strike the canvas, Manning yelping in pain.
Now it’s Dominique’s turn to tug the champ to her feet, Janel’s face still twisted as she scrunches her injured proboscis. Daly starts to send the blonde off with a whip from center stage, but Manning reverses and it’s Domi sent to the ropes. Rebounding, Daly skips out of the strands and leaps toward Janel who doesn’t seem quite ready to deal. That proves to be the case when Daly hops and tucks into the arms of the muscular pipsqueak, but then vaults her way off in reverse, tugging Janel with her and AGAIN SMASHING Manning’s face into the thinly-covered plywood with a leaping facebuster.
00:48 (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wa5cJFLjCOg&feature=channel_page )
Daly SPIKES Janel again, drawing a loud round of the thing she lives for from the crowd, the applause only growing louder as the original Mite pops to a handstand, ‘walks’ to the side of the splayed champ and drops out of the position, DRIVING her knees into the spine of the Iowan.
Janel bleats in pain, her back arching. The available chin is gathered by Dominique who makes a 45-degree turn on Manning’s back and slips her opposite hand underneath as well, cupping the underside of Janel’s features. Daly YAAANKS back, eliciting an anguished yelp. The Pac Rim cutie tests the flexibility of her fellow former gymnast and it is impressive but when Daly falls back into a bridge with Janel’s upper half still in tow, it looks like champ might have ripped abs in a very different manner.
Long before landing his ref’s job at FAWN, Craig Long had spent countless hours plopped out on his couch watching movies with titles like ‘Game of Death’ and ‘The Five Deadly Venoms’. It was that background that caused him to close in as quickly as he did, as the zebra feared Janel was only moments away from the fresh celery kerrrr-UNCH that always had him shouting ‘FATALITY!’ at the television in his deepest, Shao Khan-iest voice. “How you holding up, Janel? If you need me to call it, just give me a sign.”
Manning couldn’t twitch her neck or her jaw for that matter and she didn’t dare take a hand off the mat as they were the only thing fighting the pressure in her neck and midsection. Reduced to the simplest communication available, she bared her teeth and growled, hoping it made her position clear.
Craig understood all right, but he still didn’t like the curve in the blonde’s spine, which was why he didn’t stray far from the action. With the ref properly dismissed, Janel closed her eyes and tried not to think about the pain. Instead she focused on her legs, which practically the only part of her body (save those aforementioned hands) still in contact with the mat. Leaning ever so slightly to the left, the Golden Mite squirmed and groaned for almost ten seconds before she managed to pull her right stem out from under the rampaging challenger. Though the torque in her back was still, to put it mildly, hellacious, Janel was hearted by the progress and set about fighting to free her left leg. She was inches away from doing so (and thus transforming the Camel Clutch into nothing more dangerous than a basic Chinlock) when Daly arched up out of the bridge and plopped down on her butt.
The champ was blessedly free for all of a second before Dominique leaned back on her tush and wrapped both tawny gams around her former partner’s noggin. Headscissors, Domi Daly to Janel Manning, dead center of the ring. No fancy twists or turns this time around, the green-eyed battler merely pushed up on her hands and bore down on the hold in an attempt to flatten Janel’s skull in the rock crusher of her thighs. Thrashing in frustration even though she knew she should conserve energy, Manning pounded a few petulant fists against the mat, then crooked her fingers into claws and set them to work on the challenger’s legs. “Suuuuuhhhh…. since when do you work this pace, Daly?” the flushed beauty grunted. “I’ve seen glaciers move faster.”
Domi didn’t answer right away, priority one was bouncing her heels into the blonde’s crotch in hopes of dissuading her from more clawing. When that didn’t work she dropped onto her butt, grabbed Janel’s wrists and pulled them away in a ‘T’ shape. “Since I realized I can’t use my top gear forever.” the deadly little exotique answered. “I don’t wanna get to be Shea’s age and realize I burned out running rings around losers when there’s another way. Don’t worry Janey, I’ll lap you a few times before tonight’s over. And when your gold’s around my waist, I’ll challenge Lily Burlingame and we’ll show these people how slow you really are.”
Janel pounded a heel against the mat, mostly out of anger, though the pounding of blood against her temples was far from pleasant. “That is so much bullshit! Burlingame’s not fit to carry my bags and you’re not good enough to kiss my EERRRGGGHHH REF! MY EYES, REF!”
Craig had been in the ring with Manning enough to know she was quick to yowl about a fake hair pull or trunk punch, so he didn’t lend much credence to her claims until he saw that Daly had bunched the champ’s hands together so she could control them with one arm. Her other hand, was going back n’ forth across Janel’s face, not an actual Eye Rake per say, but Domi did wear wrist tape and she was grinding it into Janel’s eye sockets as slowly and methodically as she could. “Hey! Get off her eyes, Domi!” the zebra demanded. “You know better than that!”
“MAKE HER BREAK THE HOLD!” Manning shouted, her tone remarkably imperious considering the vulnerable position. “BETTER YET, DISQUALIFY THIS SHADY CHEANNNNGGGGGH!” Dominique did indeed stop her swiping when Long commanded it, which was why he gave her a little leeway when she crooked her free arm into a stubby ‘V’ and jabbed the point of her elbow into the bridge of Manning’s nose. “YOU BYTCH!” Janel shrieked as her eyes started to water. “YOU’RE JUST AFRAID TO FIGHT ME STANDING NNNNNGGGGHHH!”
Daly connected with nearly half a dozen more Elbows, each of them connecting with the blonde’s forehead or nose. Breaking the Scissors after the last blow (her legs had started to tingle and she wasn’t about to risk a cramp with gold up for grabs) Domi helped herself to some of Janel’s braid and hauled her up alongside. “So you want to pick up the pace?” the brunette chest bumped Manning hard, an emphatic return of the disrespect she’d suffered earlier in the match. “Well show me what you can do, slowpoke!”
CRAAACK!
Her palm hit Janel’s cheek with a sound like a starter’s pistol and it seemed to work like one too as the champ immediately responded with a short Clothesline that… went right over Domi’s head. Tumbling beneath the attempt. Daly curled an arm through Manning’s legs from behind and pulled her down onto her shoulders for…
ONE…
Janel somersaulted back onto her feet, took a split second to get her bearings and paid dearly for it because Domi barrel rolled in close and THWHACKED a sharp kick across her dipped melon. The Golden Mite reeled into the ropes and promptly staggered out into no man’s land. This proved to be a dangerous bit of wandering as it put her on a collision course with the challenger, who’d hit the strands on Manning’s left mere heartbeats after landing the kick. Spurred on by the Mitiest of fan bases, Dominique took to the sky from several feet out and ‘smecked’ those abbreviated stems around Janel’s neck. Then she snapped back and over to land on her tummy whereas Manning THWHONKED down onto the crown of her skull as victim of a DDT masquerading as a Headscissors.
DOMI'S TOP GEAR from 1:00-1:10
www.youtube.com/watch?v=C8vi7pW81RM
The blonde’s impression of a tent peg lasted for perhaps a second, meaning Domi was waiting to shovel her onto her back and hook the far leg when she returned to the mat. Still in good position despite the recent flurry of activity, the official swooped in and tolled off…
ONE…
TWO…
Janel tore loose just after ‘TWO!’ the strength of her escape a stern rebuke to anyone who thought this punk was going to blow her doors off.
Undaunted by the Poseur Mite’s resilience, Daly pushed up and made a point of stepping on Manning’s tummy as she made her way to the nearest corner. Perched in the high rent district well before Janel regained her footing, the Portland Airblazer raised both hands over her head and started to clap. The fans joined in at once and Domi grinned from ear to ear. Not only was it an excellent confidence booster, the increased noise made it much harder for Janel to figure out where she might be lurking.
Speaking of the Intercontinental Champion, she fought to her feet and very quickly realized that Daly didn’t occupy either of the corners in her field of vision. A quick spin revealed the third to be empty as well and so Janel Manning twisted right on through to the last corner and launched herself into the air without actually confirming the brunette’s presence. The Leaps of Faith one often saw in Professional Wrestling tended to fizzle spectacularly or provide highlight reel moments for years to come. This proved an example of the latter as Manning turned her jump into a Standing Dropkick that PWAAAKED deep into the pit of Dominique’s tummy.
Her Diving Crossbody destroyed in the most brutal way imaginable, Daly dropped to the mat like a bag of wet laundry and promptly curled up around the abs that Janel had so cruelly compacted.
The gutted Oregonians mewls in pain, no amount of crunches saving her from the maneuver Manning pulls from her bag of tricks. Janel kips to her feet, her weariness showing when she struggles to keep her bare tootsies beneath her, but keep vertical she stays.
Yanking Daly off the deck, Manning Irish whips her fellow Mite to the farthest corner and Domi’s spine THUMPS into the buckles. The playbook is instantly leafed through when Daly remains upright and the Golden Mite is zooming across the canvas. Leaping, Janel lands on the front of Dominique’s sinewy stems, the Iowan grabbing the top rope on either side of her fellow former gymnast. Changing her grip from the cables to the back of Domi’s head, Janel hops away from her foe. In the process, she RIPS Daly’s head down with her, SPIKING the Pac Rim Cutie’s face into the thinly-covered plywood with a monkey flip facebuster.
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BkKMQw70RFE ).
Domi’s head snaps off the canvas in brutal fashion and she barrel rolls to her back, almond-shaped peepers green and glassy.
Noticing her challenger’s perfect positioning, an already risen Janel skips over the splayed Daly and pops to the bottom ropes where she vaults into a backflip CRUSHING Dominique’s gut with her perfect crossbody landing. When Janel scrambles off and heads for the same corner, this time reaching the middle ropes, the FAWNatics know what’s in store for poor Domi and the second phase of Janel’s Moonsault Trifecta DESTROYS Domi’s tummy, Daly folding into an anguished ‘V’ underneath the delighted Manning. Janel goes up for number three, the fatigue starting to show. Nevertheless, she completes the trio in damaging fashion, again SPLASHING across Domi’s obliterated midriff.
Moonsault Trifecta @ 1:52
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LREyxW75zcY )
This time Janel stays across her foe’s bruised abdomen, Domi gasping as both her legs are hooked and she’s rolled into a tight ball for ONE…TWO…THR…
Janel doesn’t hear the third slap or the certain boos that come from another successful defense. Confused, since Daly’s shoulders are still pressed against canvas, Manning spares a glance and sees Dominique’s reached out a hand and wrapped her palm around the bottom strand.
“BYTCH,” the champion barks reflexively. She rises to her haunches and instead of slapping the mat, she slaps Domi’s mottled tummy instead, drawing a yelp from the challenger.
“You always were one,” Manning growls. “Now you’re a stupid one too.”
Domi shoves her free palm into Janel’s chin, sending Manning’s babyface to the side and when it returns to glare at the blasted Daly, if you looked closely, you might see steam wisping from the Intercontinental Champion’s ears. The former Olympian rocks Domi’s jaw in response with a forearm shiver. Furious, she tugs Daly to rubbery legs and draws her to the center by a wrist, not wanting any saving cable within the sellout’s grasp.
Reaching the middle, Janel captures Domi’s head in a tight side headlock. But before she can make anything more from it, Daly throws a blind elbow into the pit of Manning’s stomach. Janel shrugs the first one off, but when a second and third come, the chipmunk-cheeked champ is grunting and exhaling in forced bursts. Shaking free of Janel’s grip, the spandex-clad Daly spins to face her fellow Mite, only to have Manning deliver a toe kick deep into her already aching abs.
Quickly, Janel turns her back to Domi, but only to get acrobatic with the recently minted fan favorite. Backflipping over the stooped Daly, Manning slips her arms around the ravaged tummy of Dominique. And when Manning’s bare feet touch canvas, she’s instantly ready to vault the brunette heavenward then distinctly DOWN with a German Suplex maneuver that draws applause from those who couldn’t deny the breathtaking effort.
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=05hWwWOid3A ).
With Daly stacked on her shoulders, Janel in an arching bridge, the official slides down to make it official with the ONE…TWO…THRNOOO!
The original Mite manages to bicycle her legs enough to break the bridge and tumble to her side. Manning twists to all fours and glares at the ref.
“What are you? Romanian?”
Manning pushes to her feet and reaches down to collect Daly when Domi busts out of her protective turtling to grab a wrist and trip Manning to the deck and roll her up in a small package for ONE…TWO…THRNOOO!
Janel bursts out of the cradle, wide-eyed and worried. When she sees two fingers raised, she turns to a still ascending Daly and swings a sweeping, scythe-like clothesline at the Mite. Domi ducks underneath and when an off-balance Janel turns to face her foe, the Pac Rim Cutie LAYS into Manning with a wicked backhand chop that reverberates throughout the arena. Staggered, Janel backpedals to the ropes and Dominique lights her up again.
Grabbing a wrist, Daly sends the champion for the ride, whipping her to the opposite ropes. When Janel bounds back toward her, Domi pivots for a HUGE hiptoss, but the former Olympian cleverly counters and NAILS Domi with a stunner that sends the diminutive brunette flying into the air, Daly landing on her back, staring blankly at the rafters, back to square one or perhaps even under it.
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dXr3OK5UIEE )
Both women remain on the deck, but only momentarily, Janel popping to a hand stand and ‘walking’ all the way to the demolished exotic beauty of Dominique. She drops out of her stand into a splash across Daly’s belly. With the abuse already doled out to her abdomen, the maneuver has a bigger effect then it might otherwise and Domi jackknifes around the attack, letting loose with a great gust of an exhale. She drops limp to the canvas and Janel hooks a leg for ONE…TWO…THRENOOO!
Flushed with anger and disappointment at the stubborn ragdoll, Janel instantly rips Domi to her feet and slides behind, drawing Domi’s arms across her own throat. The FAWNatics understand what this entails and the last thing they want to see is a Perfect Ten of a finish from the champ.
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vudL_Iwg35I ) followed by a straightjacket clutch.
But before Janel can lift off and put Domi’s challenge to an end, Daly throws her taut, muscular tush into reverse and catches Manning in the lower pelvic region. Another shift forward AND BACK doubles up Manning and the blonde’s grip falls loose. Showing her athleticism for the first time in a while, Domi backflips over the bent Manning, landing tight behind her fellow Mite. Instead of clamping on for a suplex response, Daly leaps and tucks her knees into Janel’s shoulderblades, cupping her hands under the champ’s chin and RIPS Manning off the deck by falling in reverse, delivering an electric lungblower that the word ‘standard’ doesn’t do justice.
Janel is sent flying, landing on her face and chest. Not far away, Domi remains on her back as the FAWNatics rhythmically clap for the brunette to beat her likewise ponytailed counterpart to her bare feet and reclaim long-wrested control.
Despite the highlight reel worthy nature of the Lungblower, Daly had taken a ridiculous amount of punishment over the previous minutes and so no one was entirely surprised when the champion righted herself a smidge before the challenger. Doubly irritated by her foe’s tenacity because she’d been sure Domi was ready for the scrapheap, Janel stomped over to the brunette and snatched her ponytail in both hands. The yank that followed wasn’t nearly as emphatic as Manning intended, primarily because Daly reared back and CRAAACKED the Golden Mite across the cheek with an echoing Bytch Slap.
“Hands off, punk.” Domi growled between deep breaths.
Janel threw off the sting of the smack and a considerable amount of surprise with the same shake of her head. “Ex-CUSE me?” she barked. “I’m not sure I heard you right.”
Dominique took a step back, reached up with both hands and made a show of smoothing out the lustrous lash of her hair. “I said hands off, punk.”
Manning shook her head, she simply couldn’t believe the loser’s gall. “The fumes from whatever they used to polish the bench must’ve finally rotted your brain.” she snapped. “That’s the ONLY reason a wannabe you would have the nerve to mouth off to a Hall of Famer like--”
CRAAACK!
The Portland Airblazer slapped her again, Daly getting every bit of her powerful shoulders into the wind-up and swing. Janel took it flush on the cheek and stamped / staggered around in a little circle, one hand to the fresh welt that felt like it took up a good half of her face. She was still tending it when Domi added, “I made you, Janey. If it wasn’t for what I did ten years ago you’d be nothing more than a life coach or a talking head NBC dragged out for the Winter Olympics. But I came to FAWN and showed the world what gymnasts could do on a different kind of blue mat. Keep that in mind the next time you open your snotty little--”
Manning pounced on her with claws aimed at the brunette’s eyes. It was quick by norm standards, but in the hummingbird world of the Mites she’d telegraphed it from miles out and Daly made her pay by springing up and THWHUNKING her right knee against the champ’s chin. Janel went down in a heap but didn’t stay there long, in fact she sloshed to one knee so quickly it earned an audible curse from the challenger.
LEAPING KNEE STRIKE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=0iVh6X6Sx-g
Banishing those first pangs of frustration, Domi hopped forward on her left foot and PWAAACKED the right into Manning’s jaw with a Mite Sized Super Kick. Janel’s head reared back and the rest of her soon followed, the IC Champ lolling onto her back before turning onto her stomach.
SAWED-OFF SUPER KICK:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=_87VQmyQrJA
Still enjoying the pleasant tingle in her kickin’ foot, Daly started forward and would’ve dropped to her knees for a cover if Manning hadn’t groaned and rose to one knee. Domi slapped her purely out of spite, then whirled around and ran until most of the ring was between them. Turning on a dime, she raced back at the penitent challenger and leapt at the last minute, her right leg scything around for a Shining NO! Janel tucked her head with no time to spare, leaving Daly’s shin to miss by the slimmest of margins.
“Gonna have to do better than that, chump.” she sniped. “I’m a freakin’ gold medalist, not some, huh?”
The blonde looked down, suddenly aware of the slight pressure on her posted thigh. Eyes wide, Manning looked up on instinct and that’s when Domi hopped off her plant foot and THWHACKED it against the back of her rival’s skull.
BLACK MAGIC @ 00:30
www.youtube.com/watch?v=1pu7xUyXAW0
Walloped but good by that ol’ Black Magic, Janel timbered onto her chest where she could’ve stayed a good long while had it not been for Dominique shoveling her onto her back. Hooking both legs on general principle, Daly rolled her shoulders against Manning’s tummy and drew her in a little tighter each time the ref slapped the mat…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOOO!
Janel kicked free and flopped onto her stomach. No brain-added daze this, however, the pink-clad battler scrambled to all fours and made for the ropes with a speed that bordered on the absurd. She would’ve made it if her opponent had been anyone OTHER than Dominique Daly. Even so, the brunette put on her afterburners to snatch a death grip on Manning’s ankle before she could reach the safety of the outside. Digging in her heels, Daly shook her head ‘no’ and draaaaaaaagged her opposition back to the center of the squared circle.
Not about to give a ham n’ egger like Daly free reign over any part of herself, Janel planted her remaining knee and both hands and managed to twist around to face the challenger in an impressive show of flexibility. “Oh, so now you’re willing to look me in the eye?” Domi smirked. “Guess I should’ve grabbed this a long time ag--”
The Golden Mite sprang, twisted sideways and lashed her loose foot at the hollow of Daly’s left temple. Her execution was perfect, if only the challenger hadn’t dipped her head with a heartbeat to spare. Janel landed right back on all fours (ok, threes) then found herself flattened against the thinly-sheathed plywood when Dominique busted out a leap of her own and THWHUMPED both feet into the small of her prey’s back.
Breathless after a single blow, Manning pushed onto her knees and forearms, her head bowed against the mat as she tried to draw a deep “NNNNNNGAAAAAAHHHHH STAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHP!”
But Domi, who’d snuggled in from the champ’s left had her tawny stems locked around Janel’s waist and she had no intention of stopping. Indeed, she squeeeeeeeeeeezed down that much harder and when the Iowan raised her head Daly locked an S-grip against her mouth and nose and really CRANKED back on the Crossface. Trapped in the hellish combo known as the Pummel Horse, Janel panicked and swatted and tugged at the brunette’s wrists instead of focusing on the Scissors. Domi didn’t mind in the slightest, she only uncrossed and re-crossed her ankles, then unleashed another constriction, one so pronounced it had every muscle and sinew shredded into sharp relief under the overhead lights.
Anyone subjected to that sort of strain would start to wither sooner rather than later, even a gold medalist. Janel held out longer that most, but she eventually pooled out on her tummy and Craig wasted no time checking her condition. “How you feeling, Janel? Need me to call for the bell? Come on now, I need to know if you can defend--”
Manning twisted her head and glared death at the zebra. “I’ll be fine.” she huffed around the muzzle of Daly’s hands. “No way I’m letting this ‘also-ran’ touch my EEERRRRRAAAAAAAAHHHH!”
Domi cranked and jostled, rocking the blonde’s head so violently many feared it might come loose of her shoulders. “GIVE UP!” Daly bellowed. “YOU’RE DONE!”
Responding with a whine barely worthy of a bronze, Janel powered to all fours and started to inch toward the ropes. The going was agonizingly slow, but Manning was driven by the desire to protect her championship and something even more compelling. The soul-deep NEED to prove yet again that she was Daly’s superior in every way. That thought was pounding almost as loudly as her heart when she reached out and seized hold of the bottom rope. “Break.” she wheezed. “Get this pretender off me.”
Domi relents, dismounting her fellow Mite in short order, although she adds a disdainful shove from her foot that nearly sends Manning tumbling through the ropes. Catching herself, Janel massages her neck, grimace turning to growl. Deciding to crawl through to give herself a little extra alone time, the blonde pushes up on the outside of the cables. Rising to her full 59 inches, Janel barks at the crowd, wrapping her hands around her waist to let the FAWNatics know she would be leaving the way she came, Intercontinental Champion.
One person who disagrees stands behind the Iowan and to show it Daly bounds into the ropes behind her and sprints across the canvas at Manning. Janel turns to reenter but her timing is not the best. Domi flies between the top and middle strands, her right shoulder gutting the chiseled abs of the spandex-clad munchkin. Both former gymnasts tumble to the floor, Janel taking the brunt as her back CRASHES into the steel barricade.
Domi hops up from all fours and snatches a wrist, aims Manning at the steel steps down the length of the ring and lets loose. The aching champ speeds to the metal but keeps her balance and leaps onto the steps. Turning, she dives blindly, guessing Daly would be quick to follow and Manning proves she knows her one-time partner. But Daly knows her as well and catches Manning across her chest, foiling the crossbody splash. Janel’s face turns fearful, the blonde shaking her head. But Domi responds with a sizable ‘yes’ when she dissects the champ’s vertebrae by driving her into the ring post.
Manning’s features twist in pain, Daly still holding Janel aloft after the collision. She turns and stuffs the former gymnast into the squared circle under the bottom rope, Janel rolling to a stop on her back, hand glued to the base of her spine.
Still, the spandex-clad grappler refuses to stay down. Before Dominique makes it back in, Daly on the apron watching with avid interest, Manning rises and slowly turns to find her foe. She does and then some, as the exotic brunette bounds to the top rope and springboards toward the titleholder. It’s a neat trick considering Janel’s vertically challenged stature, but Domi loops a headlock around Manning’s noggin as she flies/flips by and RIPS Manning to the deck with her signature Daly Double.
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8aGoxWk4MS0 )
A dazed Janel spams and fall still in a starfish and Domi scrambles atop her in a cross body pin, cradling Manning in a tight ball, the champ’s ass pointed to the rafters for ONE…TWO…THRNOOO!
The ponytailed blonde kicks her way from Domi’s grasp, Daly soooo close to the gold that has eluded her for many years. The frustration is evident as she slaps the canvas, but quickly gets back to work, snatching Manning’s head and yanking the champ to her feet.
“I AM leaving with the hardware,” Domi insists, lifting a knee into Janel’s belly, doubling over Manning. “And people WILL KNOW I’m the teacher and you’re the student.”
Daly races to the ropes behind her and rebounds. She scurries on taped feet toward the wobbly, dipped Manning and flips out again, performing another variety of her blockbuster but adding the speed that brings with it more power, NAILING Manning to the canvas in spectacular fashion, Janel forced through a backflip that ends with the blonde landing on her face and chest.
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zygcKJ9cMNE ).
Dominque quickly regains her bearings and pulls Janel to her back. The brunette spreads her body across Manning’s and waits for the ONE…TWO…THRENOO!
Disbelief washes over the face of the self-proclaimed mightiest Mite. She stares at the official who can only shrug and hold up two fingers in return. Daly nods, but crosses her arms and throws them wide, making sure everyone knows the blonde half-pint is about to be squashed like a mini-milk carton.
The FAWNatics roar to their feet as Daly’s climb to the top buckle matches her ascendancy to the IC title. Looking out on the masses, she offers a salute and skies into the night with a soaring backflip of a moonsault, the height of which could be managed by a rare few. As she falls toward her splayed target, Dominique add the customary extra quarter-turn to send her feet thumping into Janel’s midriff so she can Stick the Dismount and end her fellow Mite’s reign.
And ‘Stick It’ Daly does. But it’s not the feel of jellied abdomen on her toes, but canvas-covered plywood. An adrenaline-fueled and desperate Manning, having scrambled to her feet, stands behind the startled Domi. The blonde grabs Daly’s wrists and draws Domi’s own arms across her throat, securing a straightjacket. Before Daly can imagine what’s gone wrong, Manning leaps, tucking her knees into the brunette’s shoulderblades, RIPPING the Pac Rim Cutie off her moorings, BLASTING the challenger with a lungblower. But to make it a Perfect Ten, Janel holds onto her grips and rolls Daly to her chest, turning the straightjacket grip to a clutch, the glaze in Domi’s almond-shaped eyes turning to anguish as her ravaged back is bent into a disturbing arc by the back end of Janel’s infamous double-play.
Perfect Ten: (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2XCRBjqv8bs ) and hold on for (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=96v8dirB5qM )
The trapped Domi seems as much heartbroken as backbroken from the incredible turn of events. Manning scowls as she sends Domi’s face toward the rafters and beyond with the straightjacket grip. Daly squirms for her match life but the combo of missing her dismount and back-attacks seems to have drained the spirit of the Mite.
“Did you teach me this, Domi?” Janel grunts, pulling back even further. Daly can only moan and mewl in reply.
The ref kneels next to the challenger. “You want to give it up?”
Manning pulls back another inch by way of convincing and it’s the inch too far, Domi grunting out an affirmative, Janel allowing just enough slack for Daly to provide a head nod.
The ref quickly jumps to his feet and calls for the bell. The crowd’s boos grow louder as Manning continues to hold on, turning a Perfect Ten to Eleven, Domi sobbing “I give”. Either the plaintive cries or the official’s threats get through to the champion and the blonde lets Domi slump to the canvas, her title shot extinguished.
A weary, glistening Janel raises her hands high and calls for her belt while the ring announcer provides the sad news.
“Your winner…by submission…and STILL Intercontinental Champion…Janel Manning!”
The Golden Mite, having moved to the ropes, accepts her belt and drops it over a shoulder. She moves to the devastated Daly, planting a foot on her modest, spandex-covered chest when Domi turns to her back.
“Do we understand each other now?” Janel asks. “You may be the prototype but I’m the state of the art.”
She raises her gold high.
“And the champion!”
Domi wibbles and nods before turning her face away, the lump in her throat growing as Janel grinds her bare foot in for emphasis, literally and figuratively putting out Daly’s title aspirations.
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pco91kroVgQ )
Cheers echo throughout, a reaction unthinkable not long ago. But the brunette’s association with a certain motormouth and her general improved demeanor convinced a healthy percentage of fans she has true intentions with her new attitude or at least wants their applause.
DOMI DALY
The Leader of the Domi-Nation appears with the first verse, the tawny little hardbody decked out in a gleaming white leotard dusted with tiny stars in red, white and blue. The strategic rips remain, revealing several swatches of Daly’s trim midriff as was the perfectly-sculptured muscles of her shoulders, arms and thighs. The look is complete with matching white tape on her wrists and ankles. Daly dips her head and raises her hands to clap along with the chorus.
I live for the applause, applause, applause
I live for the applause-plause
Live for the applause-plause
Live for the way that you cheer and scream for me
The applause, applause, applause
Daly throws her head back, cups her hands around her mouth and shouted “HIT IT!” Just like that the lights turn strobe, flickering on and off so fast that even the most attentive fans couldn’t follow all of the effortlessly intricate series of tumbles, handsprings, flips and cartwheels that took the exotic brunette down the ramp. Tracking her is made all the more difficult by the thunderous trail of red and blue pyro that accompany her journey from one end of the aisle to the other.
When the lights regain their equilibrium Daly was *just* alighting on the top turnbuckle. Spine tingling with the electricity of a thousand awed voices, Dominique throws her hands overhead in a ‘V’, then takes their breath away again by launching into the sky for a spiraling descent planting her in the center of the ring.
“Tonight’s next match is scheduled for one fall and is for FAWN’s Intercontinental Championship. Hailing from Portland, Oregon, she stands five feet two inches tall and weighs in at one hundred and twelve pounds. She is the ORIGINAL Mighty Mite…and is now simply mitey awesome DOMINIQUE DALY!”
The crowd seems to agree with the announcement and roars as Domi back handstands her way to her corner and settles into an expectant crouch. And the arrival of the champion.
With her one-time partner in the ring, perhaps not friend as even when assisting each other there was the air of competition, the stirring guitar of The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus’ ‘You Better Pray’ crashes over the arena and the FAWNatics and Daly turn to the upper stage as one, the crowd ready to make sure the champion knows they are favoring a replacement.
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y_WxsL5q3I4 ).
The assembled release their disdain even before the once upon a time lightweight champion makes her appearance. The ring announcer’s pronouncement only draws the decibels higher.
“And…her opponent…AND the reigning Intercontinental Champion, hailing from the hallowed halls of Iowa City, Iowa… standing a full 4 feet 11 inches tall and weighing 117 pounds… The Golden Mite herself…JANEL MANNING!”
JANEL MANNING
With the introduction complete, the FAWNatics are made to wait before the Mite-y One comes into view. The arena falls into darkness. A red spotlight illuminates the stage from the right, before winking out. The process is followed by a white spot from directly overhead, then a blue one from the left. As the sequence began its second cycle, it provides the outline of a diminutive, muscular form. When the house lights rise, the tiny terror of vault, floor, and uneven bars parades down the ramp and aisle.
Having reclaimed her bona fides in fine fashion, battering and besting Sammie Sinclair after a year away from the organization, Manning had done what few if any thought possible in scalping Juliet Bloodwind for the Tempe Temptress’ title and claiming what Jenny Jacobs had once again made the #2 belt in the organization. And then to battle the new lightweight champion to a draw? Respect was unavoidable even if hate was inescapable.
Janel’s familiar flaxen ponytail swishes from one side to the other as she moves up the steps, the champ in a skin-tight pink leotard containing a leopard-spot pattern. The spandex has a single solid strap over her left shoulder, a thin trio of small neon green strips across the opposite number. She sports black wrist and ankle tape, pads and, as always, is without boots. Janel flexes her toes before flinging herself over the top cable without a hint of effort, dropping into a somersault, before popping gracefully to her feet.
But of course, most importantly of all her attire is the gaudy gilded belt she wears around her incredibly taut tummy. The ferocious fireplug paces down the length of the ropes, occasionally deigning to glance in Daly’s direction. Manning moves to the middle, unstraps her accessory and raises it high with her left hand while sweeping her right across her chiseled tummy. She asks for a microphone and plucks one from the air after a toss from a FAWN flunky.
“This is what I’m about!” the Mite shouts, “And it’s what you’ll always lack.”
The Golden Mite tosses the microphone away and moves to her corner where she more carefully transfers her IC belt to said flunky for safekeeping.
The surreal nature of the moment isn’t lost on the FAWNatics, the crowd roaring as Dominique and Janel react to the sound of the bell not with unbridled energy, but instead with a stride to the center of the ring. Each calm and stern, they and get so close as to lean forehead against forehead, tiny terrors jawing at each other under the rumble of those assembled.
One Mite would make right tonight, blonde or brunette, hated or lately loved, Golden or Mighty. And the thought these one-time partners in crime battling for the penultimate prize in all of the organization brings another level of unreal to the goosepimples bursting throughout the crowd.
Manning’s unexpected grasping of the Intercontinental title made the matchup a natural, their paths never crossing in Janel’s 2013 run as lightweight champ since both were on friendly terms at the time. And Domi’s only golden period, a painfully brief reign in 2006 of a long deceased title. Long before Janel’s arrival. Though an obvious headliner, Domi’s string of recent if under-the-radar good form made it more.
In the case of Janel’s career, she’d far exceeded her forerunning Mite and the Pac Rim beauty from Portland is relayed that information by a tongue-wagging Manning, prompting a chesting of spandex against spandex, the former gymnasts two bulls in a china ship…in miniature. One extra word from the champ apparently takes the discussion too far and Daly shoves the ponytailed blonde back several steps. Janel smirks, even as her face flushes.
“I left you in the chalk dust, Dominique,” Manning shouts, now more for mass consumption than their previous conversation. “These people know there’s only one Mite for the present and the future and when I leave with the gold tonight it will be set in stone you are the past.”
Unable to take anymore, Dominique rushes her muscular counterpart, right elbow cocked. Daly ready to bash those beaming pearlies rather than get gymnastic on Manning. But when the exotic Oregonian throws her blow, Janel deftly ducks beneath, Daly spinning in front of the blonde. Janel wraps her arms around the off-kilter Daly, tugs her into a tight bearhug from behind and tosses her foe overhead in a belly-to-back suplex.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, Domi somehow manages to land on her feet after the forced flip. It takes her only a split-second to regain her balance and charge Janel from behind, but Manning spins into an echoing kick of bare foot to temple that is so true, it straightens Daly’s taut frame like a board and she keels over like timber in an Oregon forest.
Flash Kick @ 00:06 (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wbuhHfTO1Ck )
Appearing instantly unconscious, Domi falls face first to the deck. Janel drops to the canvas after her, rolls Daly to her back, and climbs aboard in a full body, grapevine pin for ONE…TWO…and the near Olympian shoves the real thing off to stay alive and save herself from the ultimate humiliation.
But Domi has yet to save herself from Manning who gives a quick penetrating gaze at the ref before rising to her feet and tugging Daly to likewise uncovered soles. Drawing a wobbly Daly to a corner by the wrist, Janel shoves her one-time leader into the buckles, Daly already shuddering. But just as quickly, the brunette’s Irish whipped out of the corner.
Racing to the far corner, the impetus of the Golden Mite sending Daly sprinting to opposite buckles, Domi turns into a CRASHING collision. Throwing her arms over the top cable, Daly stays upright. And Janel is on her way, flooring it through a supercharged tumbling run that ends with a piercing backspring elbow to Dominique’s heart. The almond-shaped peepers of the Portland native cross as Manning presses her body close to keep Daly sandwiched. The blonde reaches back and collects Daly’s noggin with a side headlock, races forward and lifts off, abbreviated legs extended to sit out and bulldog the brunette.
But the veteran digs deep and adds a shout and a shove, pushing the already airborne Janel off from around her braincase before she can drag Dominique down with her. The champ lands on her taut derriere and a shockwave travels up and down her spine, Manning’s face registering the ache coursing through her column. She grasps her glutes as a delighted crowd claps for a staggered Domi to take advantage.
It seems a failure when the original Mite topples, but Daly has a maneuver in mind when she sits down behind Manning. Raising her sinewy stems, Domi places them over Janel’s shoulders and clamps down with a pressure-packed scissors. Janel’s hands reflexively move to the limbs, fruitlessly trying to pry her way free.
But Daly has more in mind than to squeeze the contents of the blonde’s head through her ears. She spins on her hands, forcing a 180-degree wheel of the foe below. Daly ends in push-up position with Manning’s head still trapped between her gams. Bringing her knees to the canvas, Domi also sends Janel’s face CRASHING there time and time again, giving the jubilant crowd a full ten-spot before releasing and pushing to her feet.
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l_x3OfF4bQU )
Somehow, the stubborn Manning is already on three of all fours, one hand pressed to her nose to make sure its alignment hasn’t changed. The offer is too much to pass up and Daly kicks Janel’s opposite arm out from under her and Janel’s chipmunk cheeks and the nose between them again strike the canvas, Manning yelping in pain.
Now it’s Dominique’s turn to tug the champ to her feet, Janel’s face still twisted as she scrunches her injured proboscis. Daly starts to send the blonde off with a whip from center stage, but Manning reverses and it’s Domi sent to the ropes. Rebounding, Daly skips out of the strands and leaps toward Janel who doesn’t seem quite ready to deal. That proves to be the case when Daly hops and tucks into the arms of the muscular pipsqueak, but then vaults her way off in reverse, tugging Janel with her and AGAIN SMASHING Manning’s face into the thinly-covered plywood with a leaping facebuster.
00:48 (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wa5cJFLjCOg&feature=channel_page )
Daly SPIKES Janel again, drawing a loud round of the thing she lives for from the crowd, the applause only growing louder as the original Mite pops to a handstand, ‘walks’ to the side of the splayed champ and drops out of the position, DRIVING her knees into the spine of the Iowan.
Janel bleats in pain, her back arching. The available chin is gathered by Dominique who makes a 45-degree turn on Manning’s back and slips her opposite hand underneath as well, cupping the underside of Janel’s features. Daly YAAANKS back, eliciting an anguished yelp. The Pac Rim cutie tests the flexibility of her fellow former gymnast and it is impressive but when Daly falls back into a bridge with Janel’s upper half still in tow, it looks like champ might have ripped abs in a very different manner.
Long before landing his ref’s job at FAWN, Craig Long had spent countless hours plopped out on his couch watching movies with titles like ‘Game of Death’ and ‘The Five Deadly Venoms’. It was that background that caused him to close in as quickly as he did, as the zebra feared Janel was only moments away from the fresh celery kerrrr-UNCH that always had him shouting ‘FATALITY!’ at the television in his deepest, Shao Khan-iest voice. “How you holding up, Janel? If you need me to call it, just give me a sign.”
Manning couldn’t twitch her neck or her jaw for that matter and she didn’t dare take a hand off the mat as they were the only thing fighting the pressure in her neck and midsection. Reduced to the simplest communication available, she bared her teeth and growled, hoping it made her position clear.
Craig understood all right, but he still didn’t like the curve in the blonde’s spine, which was why he didn’t stray far from the action. With the ref properly dismissed, Janel closed her eyes and tried not to think about the pain. Instead she focused on her legs, which practically the only part of her body (save those aforementioned hands) still in contact with the mat. Leaning ever so slightly to the left, the Golden Mite squirmed and groaned for almost ten seconds before she managed to pull her right stem out from under the rampaging challenger. Though the torque in her back was still, to put it mildly, hellacious, Janel was hearted by the progress and set about fighting to free her left leg. She was inches away from doing so (and thus transforming the Camel Clutch into nothing more dangerous than a basic Chinlock) when Daly arched up out of the bridge and plopped down on her butt.
The champ was blessedly free for all of a second before Dominique leaned back on her tush and wrapped both tawny gams around her former partner’s noggin. Headscissors, Domi Daly to Janel Manning, dead center of the ring. No fancy twists or turns this time around, the green-eyed battler merely pushed up on her hands and bore down on the hold in an attempt to flatten Janel’s skull in the rock crusher of her thighs. Thrashing in frustration even though she knew she should conserve energy, Manning pounded a few petulant fists against the mat, then crooked her fingers into claws and set them to work on the challenger’s legs. “Suuuuuhhhh…. since when do you work this pace, Daly?” the flushed beauty grunted. “I’ve seen glaciers move faster.”
Domi didn’t answer right away, priority one was bouncing her heels into the blonde’s crotch in hopes of dissuading her from more clawing. When that didn’t work she dropped onto her butt, grabbed Janel’s wrists and pulled them away in a ‘T’ shape. “Since I realized I can’t use my top gear forever.” the deadly little exotique answered. “I don’t wanna get to be Shea’s age and realize I burned out running rings around losers when there’s another way. Don’t worry Janey, I’ll lap you a few times before tonight’s over. And when your gold’s around my waist, I’ll challenge Lily Burlingame and we’ll show these people how slow you really are.”
Janel pounded a heel against the mat, mostly out of anger, though the pounding of blood against her temples was far from pleasant. “That is so much bullshit! Burlingame’s not fit to carry my bags and you’re not good enough to kiss my EERRRGGGHHH REF! MY EYES, REF!”
Craig had been in the ring with Manning enough to know she was quick to yowl about a fake hair pull or trunk punch, so he didn’t lend much credence to her claims until he saw that Daly had bunched the champ’s hands together so she could control them with one arm. Her other hand, was going back n’ forth across Janel’s face, not an actual Eye Rake per say, but Domi did wear wrist tape and she was grinding it into Janel’s eye sockets as slowly and methodically as she could. “Hey! Get off her eyes, Domi!” the zebra demanded. “You know better than that!”
“MAKE HER BREAK THE HOLD!” Manning shouted, her tone remarkably imperious considering the vulnerable position. “BETTER YET, DISQUALIFY THIS SHADY CHEANNNNGGGGGH!” Dominique did indeed stop her swiping when Long commanded it, which was why he gave her a little leeway when she crooked her free arm into a stubby ‘V’ and jabbed the point of her elbow into the bridge of Manning’s nose. “YOU BYTCH!” Janel shrieked as her eyes started to water. “YOU’RE JUST AFRAID TO FIGHT ME STANDING NNNNNGGGGHHH!”
Daly connected with nearly half a dozen more Elbows, each of them connecting with the blonde’s forehead or nose. Breaking the Scissors after the last blow (her legs had started to tingle and she wasn’t about to risk a cramp with gold up for grabs) Domi helped herself to some of Janel’s braid and hauled her up alongside. “So you want to pick up the pace?” the brunette chest bumped Manning hard, an emphatic return of the disrespect she’d suffered earlier in the match. “Well show me what you can do, slowpoke!”
CRAAACK!
Her palm hit Janel’s cheek with a sound like a starter’s pistol and it seemed to work like one too as the champ immediately responded with a short Clothesline that… went right over Domi’s head. Tumbling beneath the attempt. Daly curled an arm through Manning’s legs from behind and pulled her down onto her shoulders for…
ONE…
Janel somersaulted back onto her feet, took a split second to get her bearings and paid dearly for it because Domi barrel rolled in close and THWHACKED a sharp kick across her dipped melon. The Golden Mite reeled into the ropes and promptly staggered out into no man’s land. This proved to be a dangerous bit of wandering as it put her on a collision course with the challenger, who’d hit the strands on Manning’s left mere heartbeats after landing the kick. Spurred on by the Mitiest of fan bases, Dominique took to the sky from several feet out and ‘smecked’ those abbreviated stems around Janel’s neck. Then she snapped back and over to land on her tummy whereas Manning THWHONKED down onto the crown of her skull as victim of a DDT masquerading as a Headscissors.
DOMI'S TOP GEAR from 1:00-1:10
www.youtube.com/watch?v=C8vi7pW81RM
The blonde’s impression of a tent peg lasted for perhaps a second, meaning Domi was waiting to shovel her onto her back and hook the far leg when she returned to the mat. Still in good position despite the recent flurry of activity, the official swooped in and tolled off…
ONE…
TWO…
Janel tore loose just after ‘TWO!’ the strength of her escape a stern rebuke to anyone who thought this punk was going to blow her doors off.
Undaunted by the Poseur Mite’s resilience, Daly pushed up and made a point of stepping on Manning’s tummy as she made her way to the nearest corner. Perched in the high rent district well before Janel regained her footing, the Portland Airblazer raised both hands over her head and started to clap. The fans joined in at once and Domi grinned from ear to ear. Not only was it an excellent confidence booster, the increased noise made it much harder for Janel to figure out where she might be lurking.
Speaking of the Intercontinental Champion, she fought to her feet and very quickly realized that Daly didn’t occupy either of the corners in her field of vision. A quick spin revealed the third to be empty as well and so Janel Manning twisted right on through to the last corner and launched herself into the air without actually confirming the brunette’s presence. The Leaps of Faith one often saw in Professional Wrestling tended to fizzle spectacularly or provide highlight reel moments for years to come. This proved an example of the latter as Manning turned her jump into a Standing Dropkick that PWAAAKED deep into the pit of Dominique’s tummy.
Her Diving Crossbody destroyed in the most brutal way imaginable, Daly dropped to the mat like a bag of wet laundry and promptly curled up around the abs that Janel had so cruelly compacted.
The gutted Oregonians mewls in pain, no amount of crunches saving her from the maneuver Manning pulls from her bag of tricks. Janel kips to her feet, her weariness showing when she struggles to keep her bare tootsies beneath her, but keep vertical she stays.
Yanking Daly off the deck, Manning Irish whips her fellow Mite to the farthest corner and Domi’s spine THUMPS into the buckles. The playbook is instantly leafed through when Daly remains upright and the Golden Mite is zooming across the canvas. Leaping, Janel lands on the front of Dominique’s sinewy stems, the Iowan grabbing the top rope on either side of her fellow former gymnast. Changing her grip from the cables to the back of Domi’s head, Janel hops away from her foe. In the process, she RIPS Daly’s head down with her, SPIKING the Pac Rim Cutie’s face into the thinly-covered plywood with a monkey flip facebuster.
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BkKMQw70RFE ).
Domi’s head snaps off the canvas in brutal fashion and she barrel rolls to her back, almond-shaped peepers green and glassy.
Noticing her challenger’s perfect positioning, an already risen Janel skips over the splayed Daly and pops to the bottom ropes where she vaults into a backflip CRUSHING Dominique’s gut with her perfect crossbody landing. When Janel scrambles off and heads for the same corner, this time reaching the middle ropes, the FAWNatics know what’s in store for poor Domi and the second phase of Janel’s Moonsault Trifecta DESTROYS Domi’s tummy, Daly folding into an anguished ‘V’ underneath the delighted Manning. Janel goes up for number three, the fatigue starting to show. Nevertheless, she completes the trio in damaging fashion, again SPLASHING across Domi’s obliterated midriff.
Moonsault Trifecta @ 1:52
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LREyxW75zcY )
This time Janel stays across her foe’s bruised abdomen, Domi gasping as both her legs are hooked and she’s rolled into a tight ball for ONE…TWO…THR…
Janel doesn’t hear the third slap or the certain boos that come from another successful defense. Confused, since Daly’s shoulders are still pressed against canvas, Manning spares a glance and sees Dominique’s reached out a hand and wrapped her palm around the bottom strand.
“BYTCH,” the champion barks reflexively. She rises to her haunches and instead of slapping the mat, she slaps Domi’s mottled tummy instead, drawing a yelp from the challenger.
“You always were one,” Manning growls. “Now you’re a stupid one too.”
Domi shoves her free palm into Janel’s chin, sending Manning’s babyface to the side and when it returns to glare at the blasted Daly, if you looked closely, you might see steam wisping from the Intercontinental Champion’s ears. The former Olympian rocks Domi’s jaw in response with a forearm shiver. Furious, she tugs Daly to rubbery legs and draws her to the center by a wrist, not wanting any saving cable within the sellout’s grasp.
Reaching the middle, Janel captures Domi’s head in a tight side headlock. But before she can make anything more from it, Daly throws a blind elbow into the pit of Manning’s stomach. Janel shrugs the first one off, but when a second and third come, the chipmunk-cheeked champ is grunting and exhaling in forced bursts. Shaking free of Janel’s grip, the spandex-clad Daly spins to face her fellow Mite, only to have Manning deliver a toe kick deep into her already aching abs.
Quickly, Janel turns her back to Domi, but only to get acrobatic with the recently minted fan favorite. Backflipping over the stooped Daly, Manning slips her arms around the ravaged tummy of Dominique. And when Manning’s bare feet touch canvas, she’s instantly ready to vault the brunette heavenward then distinctly DOWN with a German Suplex maneuver that draws applause from those who couldn’t deny the breathtaking effort.
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=05hWwWOid3A ).
With Daly stacked on her shoulders, Janel in an arching bridge, the official slides down to make it official with the ONE…TWO…THRNOOO!
The original Mite manages to bicycle her legs enough to break the bridge and tumble to her side. Manning twists to all fours and glares at the ref.
“What are you? Romanian?”
Manning pushes to her feet and reaches down to collect Daly when Domi busts out of her protective turtling to grab a wrist and trip Manning to the deck and roll her up in a small package for ONE…TWO…THRNOOO!
Janel bursts out of the cradle, wide-eyed and worried. When she sees two fingers raised, she turns to a still ascending Daly and swings a sweeping, scythe-like clothesline at the Mite. Domi ducks underneath and when an off-balance Janel turns to face her foe, the Pac Rim Cutie LAYS into Manning with a wicked backhand chop that reverberates throughout the arena. Staggered, Janel backpedals to the ropes and Dominique lights her up again.
Grabbing a wrist, Daly sends the champion for the ride, whipping her to the opposite ropes. When Janel bounds back toward her, Domi pivots for a HUGE hiptoss, but the former Olympian cleverly counters and NAILS Domi with a stunner that sends the diminutive brunette flying into the air, Daly landing on her back, staring blankly at the rafters, back to square one or perhaps even under it.
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dXr3OK5UIEE )
Both women remain on the deck, but only momentarily, Janel popping to a hand stand and ‘walking’ all the way to the demolished exotic beauty of Dominique. She drops out of her stand into a splash across Daly’s belly. With the abuse already doled out to her abdomen, the maneuver has a bigger effect then it might otherwise and Domi jackknifes around the attack, letting loose with a great gust of an exhale. She drops limp to the canvas and Janel hooks a leg for ONE…TWO…THRENOOO!
Flushed with anger and disappointment at the stubborn ragdoll, Janel instantly rips Domi to her feet and slides behind, drawing Domi’s arms across her own throat. The FAWNatics understand what this entails and the last thing they want to see is a Perfect Ten of a finish from the champ.
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vudL_Iwg35I ) followed by a straightjacket clutch.
But before Janel can lift off and put Domi’s challenge to an end, Daly throws her taut, muscular tush into reverse and catches Manning in the lower pelvic region. Another shift forward AND BACK doubles up Manning and the blonde’s grip falls loose. Showing her athleticism for the first time in a while, Domi backflips over the bent Manning, landing tight behind her fellow Mite. Instead of clamping on for a suplex response, Daly leaps and tucks her knees into Janel’s shoulderblades, cupping her hands under the champ’s chin and RIPS Manning off the deck by falling in reverse, delivering an electric lungblower that the word ‘standard’ doesn’t do justice.
Janel is sent flying, landing on her face and chest. Not far away, Domi remains on her back as the FAWNatics rhythmically clap for the brunette to beat her likewise ponytailed counterpart to her bare feet and reclaim long-wrested control.
Despite the highlight reel worthy nature of the Lungblower, Daly had taken a ridiculous amount of punishment over the previous minutes and so no one was entirely surprised when the champion righted herself a smidge before the challenger. Doubly irritated by her foe’s tenacity because she’d been sure Domi was ready for the scrapheap, Janel stomped over to the brunette and snatched her ponytail in both hands. The yank that followed wasn’t nearly as emphatic as Manning intended, primarily because Daly reared back and CRAAACKED the Golden Mite across the cheek with an echoing Bytch Slap.
“Hands off, punk.” Domi growled between deep breaths.
Janel threw off the sting of the smack and a considerable amount of surprise with the same shake of her head. “Ex-CUSE me?” she barked. “I’m not sure I heard you right.”
Dominique took a step back, reached up with both hands and made a show of smoothing out the lustrous lash of her hair. “I said hands off, punk.”
Manning shook her head, she simply couldn’t believe the loser’s gall. “The fumes from whatever they used to polish the bench must’ve finally rotted your brain.” she snapped. “That’s the ONLY reason a wannabe you would have the nerve to mouth off to a Hall of Famer like--”
CRAAACK!
The Portland Airblazer slapped her again, Daly getting every bit of her powerful shoulders into the wind-up and swing. Janel took it flush on the cheek and stamped / staggered around in a little circle, one hand to the fresh welt that felt like it took up a good half of her face. She was still tending it when Domi added, “I made you, Janey. If it wasn’t for what I did ten years ago you’d be nothing more than a life coach or a talking head NBC dragged out for the Winter Olympics. But I came to FAWN and showed the world what gymnasts could do on a different kind of blue mat. Keep that in mind the next time you open your snotty little--”
Manning pounced on her with claws aimed at the brunette’s eyes. It was quick by norm standards, but in the hummingbird world of the Mites she’d telegraphed it from miles out and Daly made her pay by springing up and THWHUNKING her right knee against the champ’s chin. Janel went down in a heap but didn’t stay there long, in fact she sloshed to one knee so quickly it earned an audible curse from the challenger.
LEAPING KNEE STRIKE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=0iVh6X6Sx-g
Banishing those first pangs of frustration, Domi hopped forward on her left foot and PWAAACKED the right into Manning’s jaw with a Mite Sized Super Kick. Janel’s head reared back and the rest of her soon followed, the IC Champ lolling onto her back before turning onto her stomach.
SAWED-OFF SUPER KICK:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=_87VQmyQrJA
Still enjoying the pleasant tingle in her kickin’ foot, Daly started forward and would’ve dropped to her knees for a cover if Manning hadn’t groaned and rose to one knee. Domi slapped her purely out of spite, then whirled around and ran until most of the ring was between them. Turning on a dime, she raced back at the penitent challenger and leapt at the last minute, her right leg scything around for a Shining NO! Janel tucked her head with no time to spare, leaving Daly’s shin to miss by the slimmest of margins.
“Gonna have to do better than that, chump.” she sniped. “I’m a freakin’ gold medalist, not some, huh?”
The blonde looked down, suddenly aware of the slight pressure on her posted thigh. Eyes wide, Manning looked up on instinct and that’s when Domi hopped off her plant foot and THWHACKED it against the back of her rival’s skull.
BLACK MAGIC @ 00:30
www.youtube.com/watch?v=1pu7xUyXAW0
Walloped but good by that ol’ Black Magic, Janel timbered onto her chest where she could’ve stayed a good long while had it not been for Dominique shoveling her onto her back. Hooking both legs on general principle, Daly rolled her shoulders against Manning’s tummy and drew her in a little tighter each time the ref slapped the mat…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOOO!
Janel kicked free and flopped onto her stomach. No brain-added daze this, however, the pink-clad battler scrambled to all fours and made for the ropes with a speed that bordered on the absurd. She would’ve made it if her opponent had been anyone OTHER than Dominique Daly. Even so, the brunette put on her afterburners to snatch a death grip on Manning’s ankle before she could reach the safety of the outside. Digging in her heels, Daly shook her head ‘no’ and draaaaaaaagged her opposition back to the center of the squared circle.
Not about to give a ham n’ egger like Daly free reign over any part of herself, Janel planted her remaining knee and both hands and managed to twist around to face the challenger in an impressive show of flexibility. “Oh, so now you’re willing to look me in the eye?” Domi smirked. “Guess I should’ve grabbed this a long time ag--”
The Golden Mite sprang, twisted sideways and lashed her loose foot at the hollow of Daly’s left temple. Her execution was perfect, if only the challenger hadn’t dipped her head with a heartbeat to spare. Janel landed right back on all fours (ok, threes) then found herself flattened against the thinly-sheathed plywood when Dominique busted out a leap of her own and THWHUMPED both feet into the small of her prey’s back.
Breathless after a single blow, Manning pushed onto her knees and forearms, her head bowed against the mat as she tried to draw a deep “NNNNNNGAAAAAAHHHHH STAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHP!”
But Domi, who’d snuggled in from the champ’s left had her tawny stems locked around Janel’s waist and she had no intention of stopping. Indeed, she squeeeeeeeeeeezed down that much harder and when the Iowan raised her head Daly locked an S-grip against her mouth and nose and really CRANKED back on the Crossface. Trapped in the hellish combo known as the Pummel Horse, Janel panicked and swatted and tugged at the brunette’s wrists instead of focusing on the Scissors. Domi didn’t mind in the slightest, she only uncrossed and re-crossed her ankles, then unleashed another constriction, one so pronounced it had every muscle and sinew shredded into sharp relief under the overhead lights.
Anyone subjected to that sort of strain would start to wither sooner rather than later, even a gold medalist. Janel held out longer that most, but she eventually pooled out on her tummy and Craig wasted no time checking her condition. “How you feeling, Janel? Need me to call for the bell? Come on now, I need to know if you can defend--”
Manning twisted her head and glared death at the zebra. “I’ll be fine.” she huffed around the muzzle of Daly’s hands. “No way I’m letting this ‘also-ran’ touch my EEERRRRRAAAAAAAAHHHH!”
Domi cranked and jostled, rocking the blonde’s head so violently many feared it might come loose of her shoulders. “GIVE UP!” Daly bellowed. “YOU’RE DONE!”
Responding with a whine barely worthy of a bronze, Janel powered to all fours and started to inch toward the ropes. The going was agonizingly slow, but Manning was driven by the desire to protect her championship and something even more compelling. The soul-deep NEED to prove yet again that she was Daly’s superior in every way. That thought was pounding almost as loudly as her heart when she reached out and seized hold of the bottom rope. “Break.” she wheezed. “Get this pretender off me.”
Domi relents, dismounting her fellow Mite in short order, although she adds a disdainful shove from her foot that nearly sends Manning tumbling through the ropes. Catching herself, Janel massages her neck, grimace turning to growl. Deciding to crawl through to give herself a little extra alone time, the blonde pushes up on the outside of the cables. Rising to her full 59 inches, Janel barks at the crowd, wrapping her hands around her waist to let the FAWNatics know she would be leaving the way she came, Intercontinental Champion.
One person who disagrees stands behind the Iowan and to show it Daly bounds into the ropes behind her and sprints across the canvas at Manning. Janel turns to reenter but her timing is not the best. Domi flies between the top and middle strands, her right shoulder gutting the chiseled abs of the spandex-clad munchkin. Both former gymnasts tumble to the floor, Janel taking the brunt as her back CRASHES into the steel barricade.
Domi hops up from all fours and snatches a wrist, aims Manning at the steel steps down the length of the ring and lets loose. The aching champ speeds to the metal but keeps her balance and leaps onto the steps. Turning, she dives blindly, guessing Daly would be quick to follow and Manning proves she knows her one-time partner. But Daly knows her as well and catches Manning across her chest, foiling the crossbody splash. Janel’s face turns fearful, the blonde shaking her head. But Domi responds with a sizable ‘yes’ when she dissects the champ’s vertebrae by driving her into the ring post.
Manning’s features twist in pain, Daly still holding Janel aloft after the collision. She turns and stuffs the former gymnast into the squared circle under the bottom rope, Janel rolling to a stop on her back, hand glued to the base of her spine.
Still, the spandex-clad grappler refuses to stay down. Before Dominique makes it back in, Daly on the apron watching with avid interest, Manning rises and slowly turns to find her foe. She does and then some, as the exotic brunette bounds to the top rope and springboards toward the titleholder. It’s a neat trick considering Janel’s vertically challenged stature, but Domi loops a headlock around Manning’s noggin as she flies/flips by and RIPS Manning to the deck with her signature Daly Double.
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8aGoxWk4MS0 )
A dazed Janel spams and fall still in a starfish and Domi scrambles atop her in a cross body pin, cradling Manning in a tight ball, the champ’s ass pointed to the rafters for ONE…TWO…THRNOOO!
The ponytailed blonde kicks her way from Domi’s grasp, Daly soooo close to the gold that has eluded her for many years. The frustration is evident as she slaps the canvas, but quickly gets back to work, snatching Manning’s head and yanking the champ to her feet.
“I AM leaving with the hardware,” Domi insists, lifting a knee into Janel’s belly, doubling over Manning. “And people WILL KNOW I’m the teacher and you’re the student.”
Daly races to the ropes behind her and rebounds. She scurries on taped feet toward the wobbly, dipped Manning and flips out again, performing another variety of her blockbuster but adding the speed that brings with it more power, NAILING Manning to the canvas in spectacular fashion, Janel forced through a backflip that ends with the blonde landing on her face and chest.
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zygcKJ9cMNE ).
Dominque quickly regains her bearings and pulls Janel to her back. The brunette spreads her body across Manning’s and waits for the ONE…TWO…THRENOO!
Disbelief washes over the face of the self-proclaimed mightiest Mite. She stares at the official who can only shrug and hold up two fingers in return. Daly nods, but crosses her arms and throws them wide, making sure everyone knows the blonde half-pint is about to be squashed like a mini-milk carton.
The FAWNatics roar to their feet as Daly’s climb to the top buckle matches her ascendancy to the IC title. Looking out on the masses, she offers a salute and skies into the night with a soaring backflip of a moonsault, the height of which could be managed by a rare few. As she falls toward her splayed target, Dominique add the customary extra quarter-turn to send her feet thumping into Janel’s midriff so she can Stick the Dismount and end her fellow Mite’s reign.
And ‘Stick It’ Daly does. But it’s not the feel of jellied abdomen on her toes, but canvas-covered plywood. An adrenaline-fueled and desperate Manning, having scrambled to her feet, stands behind the startled Domi. The blonde grabs Daly’s wrists and draws Domi’s own arms across her throat, securing a straightjacket. Before Daly can imagine what’s gone wrong, Manning leaps, tucking her knees into the brunette’s shoulderblades, RIPPING the Pac Rim Cutie off her moorings, BLASTING the challenger with a lungblower. But to make it a Perfect Ten, Janel holds onto her grips and rolls Daly to her chest, turning the straightjacket grip to a clutch, the glaze in Domi’s almond-shaped eyes turning to anguish as her ravaged back is bent into a disturbing arc by the back end of Janel’s infamous double-play.
Perfect Ten: (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2XCRBjqv8bs ) and hold on for (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=96v8dirB5qM )
The trapped Domi seems as much heartbroken as backbroken from the incredible turn of events. Manning scowls as she sends Domi’s face toward the rafters and beyond with the straightjacket grip. Daly squirms for her match life but the combo of missing her dismount and back-attacks seems to have drained the spirit of the Mite.
“Did you teach me this, Domi?” Janel grunts, pulling back even further. Daly can only moan and mewl in reply.
The ref kneels next to the challenger. “You want to give it up?”
Manning pulls back another inch by way of convincing and it’s the inch too far, Domi grunting out an affirmative, Janel allowing just enough slack for Daly to provide a head nod.
The ref quickly jumps to his feet and calls for the bell. The crowd’s boos grow louder as Manning continues to hold on, turning a Perfect Ten to Eleven, Domi sobbing “I give”. Either the plaintive cries or the official’s threats get through to the champion and the blonde lets Domi slump to the canvas, her title shot extinguished.
A weary, glistening Janel raises her hands high and calls for her belt while the ring announcer provides the sad news.
“Your winner…by submission…and STILL Intercontinental Champion…Janel Manning!”
The Golden Mite, having moved to the ropes, accepts her belt and drops it over a shoulder. She moves to the devastated Daly, planting a foot on her modest, spandex-covered chest when Domi turns to her back.
“Do we understand each other now?” Janel asks. “You may be the prototype but I’m the state of the art.”
She raises her gold high.
“And the champion!”
Domi wibbles and nods before turning her face away, the lump in her throat growing as Janel grinds her bare foot in for emphasis, literally and figuratively putting out Daly’s title aspirations.