Post by bigfan on Feb 5, 2017 17:54:31 GMT
Thrills, Chills and Spills gets started, with the ring announcer’s voice booming from the PA. The giant screen above the stage turns into a kaleidoscope of swirling color, and Dee-Lite’s ‘Groove is in the Heart’ begins to play.
GROOVE IS IN THE HEART:
www.youtube.com/watch? v=3_CKBjws6TY
TULIP MORRISON
Popping out from behind the curtain is a small red head, Tulip Morrison. The Hippie Chick is dressed in a multi colored tie-dye Tankini and ankle high wrestling shoes. Tulip’s pads where white when she bought them, but now she’s personalized them with painted on Smiley face suns, flowers and just bright colored swirls. Tulip bounces down the ramp waving to the crowd and heads to the rails slapping hands and greeting fans.
The bodiless Ring Announcer makes the introduction, “From Springfield, Kentucky, she stands 5’3” tall and weighs in tonight at 118 pounds…Tulip Harmony Morrison!”
Tulip stops as her name is call pointing at herself yelling, “That’s ME!” before continuing on to greet more fans. Tulip stops and climbs up on to the railing and blows a kiss to a fan holding a Flower Power sign.
Morrison rolls under the bottom rope, and moves to the center of the ring blowing kisses to the fans. Tulip moves to her corner still smiling and waving to the crowd. The referee Al Carpenter checks her pads and boots, Tulip wasn’t bothered by the insistence of the rookie that she came out last, but it was a bit against the protocol as it’s usually the veteran that gets the honor of coming out second. The Kentucky Native runs her fingers under the shoulder straps of her tye-dyed tankini before she resumes stretching as she waits for her opponent.
Then all the lights in the auditorium go off, except for five spotlights which slowly circle the crowd. As their beams move closer together the PA kicks back to life, blaring four words which announce one of FAWN’s newest and brashest talents:
ALL OF THE LIGHTS:
youtu.be/HAfFfqiYLp0? t=1m6s
With the spotlights all focussed on one point at the top of the ramp, a figure walks forward and spreads her arms, apparently basking in the pool of pure white around her. A pair of oversized shades with a Gucci logo cover her eyes and a cream leather jacket hides most of her torso, but she’s left it open to leave an impressive swell of her chest visible, contained within grey Calvin Klein-style sports bra. Her curvy derriere is continued in matching CK briefs, with personalised white kneepads and a pair of olive Yeezys adorning her feet. As Rhianna’s voice tells everyone she ‘wants y’all to see this’, the figure raises both hands to mimic popping flashbulbs, then begins dabbing and shimmying as the lighting switches into a frenetic strobe across the arena.
ZOË SCOTT
The curvy brunette figure starts making her way leisurely down the ramp as the announcer makes himself heard over the music. “And her opponent, from Dubai, United Arab Emirates, she stands at 5’4” and weighs in tonight at 119lbs…Zoë SCOTT!” At the sound of her name the jetsetter gave a short wave then hopped up onto the ring apron, pausing to remove her shades and jacket.
As she was disrobing it quickly became apparent that she had brought someone else down to ringside with her, although not sharing the spotlight. The other girl was blonde and considerably taller and broader than Zoë, clad in a tight black top which did nothing to hide seemingly endless curves, skintight blue jeans, black cowboy boots and a black Stetson. The woman whom a few dedicated fans identified as Zoë’s assistant Isobel Lamont took her employer’s accessories, folded the jacket neatly and took an empty chair near the announce table, pulling a smartphone from her pocket.
ISOBEL LAMONT
Showing no interest in her assistant, referee Al Carpenter, or even her opponent, Zoë slid through the ropes and went on a tour of the ring, waving enthusiastically to all sides despite the generally negative response coming back at her from the crowd. Once her lap was done she settled into her corner, but then turned back to her assistant and wordlessly demanded the smartphone.
Tulip bounces side to side on the balls of her feet waiting for the bell, as Zoë types out another tweet before the match. The brunette finishes up and tosses her phone to a ring attendant on the outside, the man quickly hurrying it back to her waiting blonde assistant. Phones around the arena go off as Scott’s followers get her latest thoughts:
From: Zoë Scott – About to finish off another Walmart #GreatScott
Referee Al Carpenter raises an eyebrow, but he assumes the rookie is finally ready and calls for the bell.
DING…DING…DING.
Zoë steps out of her corner, hands on hips as the rookie looks over the FAWN veteran before asking, “I thought FAWN paid its wrestlers well, why are you wearing my grandma’s clothes?”
Scott looks up and down the redhead, “Seriously, those aren’t even Walmart. Where did you get that? Goodwill, or the dumpster out back?”
The redhead looks down herself, her tie dyed tankini, pads and boots had all been done personally by the Kentucky girl. Tulip still loves the look and is proud of her gear, looks up at the busty brunette, “I made them, and I’ll take my personalized gear over your overpriced rags any day.”
Zoë starts to open her mouth to respond, but Tulip launches herself forward slamming a forearm into Scott’s upper chest. Morrison then quickly underhooks the brunette’s left arm and humps Zoë up and over with a clean hip toss. The Blessed brunette lands hard, but rolls through and comes up on one knee by the ropes that she grabs on to, a shocked look on her face as she can’t believe the Hippie chick had the nerve to start while Zoë was addressing her.
Tulip waits at mid-ring hands up and ready crouched in a good wrestling stance, “It’s not the outfit honey, it’s the woman in it.”
Zoë brushes her chest off as if Tulip got something on the brunette’s ample cleavage, then rises proudly and stomps her way over to Morrison. Scott walks right into the redhead thrusting her bosom into Tulip’s own impressive rack and goes nose to nose with the Hippie Grappler, “No! You do not get away with a cheap shot Walmart.”
Tulip pushes her chest and head forward not backing down from the girl of privilege, “I’ve dealt with snobs like you before, and you don’t scare MAAAHHHH”
Zoë grabbed a handful of red hair near the end of Tulip’s statement, and started pulling the Kentucky native towards the turnbuckles as Al tries to stop her with warnings and Tulip grabs Zoë’s wrist, but can’t remove the claw from her locks. Scott reaches the pads and bounces Morrison’s forehead off the top turnbuckle three times before release her hair and grabbing her by the shoulders to spin Tulip around. The rookie shoves the veteran back into the corner and begins to put her custom Yeezy footwear into the redhead’s stomach over and over with stomp like kicks.
Al Carpenter forces Zoë to back off only by reaching four of his five count. Zoë turns walking a semi circle out into the ring, Tulip groans holding her tummy after the attack. Scott reaches the point where she’s directly in front of the redhead and charges in. Leaping into the air Zoë pulls her knees up looking to drive them into the Hippie’s tye-dyed covered bosom, but Tulip rolls along the ropes out of harm’s way letting Scott’s knees nothing but the thinly padded steel of the buckles to hit. Zoë cries out as she hits and bounces off.
Tulip comes off the ropes right behind Scott and looks to take advantage of the rookies mistake, dropping down behind Zoë the redhead reaches up between her legs and puts her hand on the brunette’s flat stomach and pulls her backwards. A shocked look comes over Scott’s face as she’s pulled back over the redhead. Zoë ends up matchboooked on the canvas with Tulip atop the rookie’s backside.
ONE…
TWO…
KICKOUT!
It wasn’t really that close, but Al still signals to the time keeper it was only a two count. Zoë rolls away from the Hippie Grappler. Tulip also scrambles to her feet and the pair square off again from a few feet apart. Tulip tugs her tankini top down in front before crouching ready for another go. Scott snaps Calvin Klein bottoms back down into place and raises her arms as she moves it and accepts the collar and elbow lock up with the redhead.
Zoë pushes and twists finally getting to Tulip’s side enough to switch her grip and whip the readhead towards the ropes. Scott moves forward ready to meet the returning hippie, but Morrison leaps on to the middle strand and then shoots back with elbow raised and catches Zoë on the chin with a flying back elbow that sends the brunette crashing to the canvas. The FAWNatics cheer the baby face as Tulip who also ended up on the mat kips up to her feet and turns around acknowledging the crowds support before going back to the downed girl.
The shouts ringing from the FAWNatics urge their favourite to go for another cover, with the jet setter looking well and truly grounded after that last shot. Tulip considered this for a second, flashing a glance at Zoë’s burly assistant to judge whether she might intervene, and decided against it. Instead the hippie chick reached down to take a handful of chestnut locks, hauling the hissing expat up to her feet and…
…receiving a flashing thumb to her eye for her trouble. The illegal shot had been lightning fast and shielded from Carpenter by Zoë’s own head, meaning that he only got a hint of what happened when Morrison suddenly let out a yelp and released her hair holds to tend to that hurting eye. This left her completely undefended when Scott, still recovering from that flying elbow, flung a boot up hard into the hippie’s tie-dyed chest.
Tulip staggered backwards from the blow, hands dropping to check everything was still in place within her tankini but not quite low enough to catch Zoë’s follow up shot which buried into her gut. The redhead doubled forward around the boot in her tummy, exactly what Scott had been hoping for. Snatching one wrist she stepped to the side and twisted the arm up into a fast hammerlock which was enough to force Morrison to bend forward again, then hooked her free hand around opposing neck and transferred her grip. With Tulip not quite sure in which direction her escape might lie, Zoë took a big handful of tie-dyed bottoms and hauled up and backwards in a gorgeous hammerlock suplex.
The move had the twin benefits of wrenching on the trapped arm and forcing a nasty landing on the back of Tulip’s neck, the hippie chick sprawling out of her opponents grip and coming to rest on her side. She immediately reached over to massage the hurting shoulder, only to have a Yeezy appear in her peripheral vision and slam into the hurting joint.
Morrison rolled over on her front, hoping to get some protection or at least avoid a pin. But Zoë didn’t seem to be too bothered by this, happy instead to launch another three quick stomps at that hurting shoulder. Tulip propped up on her hands and swatted away at the encroaching trainers, earning a snigger from the jet setter.
“So you dress like someone’s grandma, smell like a hobo, and hit like a pussy,” Zoë snarled down. “I guess you’re pretty good at snivelling helplessly on the floor though. I think you might be really good at DAAAHH…”
Tulip’s arm swung out, hooked onto the back of one fancy sneaker, and pulled it out from underneath her opponent with enough force to send the spotlight queen crashing down on her butt in a pratfall which was both painful and embarrassing. Zoë, fuming at the second interruption, took a second to scramble to her feet and was met there by a revitalised Morrison swinging another elbow at her temple. With no time to react, the brunette took this full in the face and swayed backwards, legs suddenly showing a pronounced wobble.
The crowd let out another roar of approval but something else was on Morrison’s mind. Usually the hippie chick was pretty easy going on the trash talk, as might be expected, but something about this newbie with her flashy clothes and haughty attitude had riled her. “Turns out I throw a pretty mean elbow, huh Zoë?” the redhead called. “Too bad you take it like a little girl. Let’s try that one again.” With that she dived forward again, arm out and swinging round to deliver a lariat.
A few feet away, Zoë had heard the taunt and felt it adding to the already boiling pit of anger in her stomach. On the other hand the redhead’s uncharacteristic trash talk had given her a few extra seconds to get her body back under control, and she used this to her full advantage. With Tulip steaming in and clearly telegraphing her intentions, Scott did the unexpected thing by stepping forward to meet her and interrupting that outstretched arm before it could come round to take her head off. Moving with a burst of speed she grasped the outstretched limb in both hands and spun underneath, her grip forcing a surprised Morrison to rotate with her.
Zoë used this momentum and kept right on spinning, looping one hand aroudn the redhead’s neck and jumping off both feet at the same time to crash land on her back. The fall was a little uncomfortable for her but much more devastating for Tulip, spun round with unexpected force so that her neck was snapped nastily onto the matt. The force of the Arm-Trap Neckbreaker would have been enough to give anyone pause before getting up, but this situation was even more perilous because Zoë had kept her two-handed grip on the redheads arm. With little resistance she quickly slid her body round to scissor that captive limb between her thighs, leaving her hands dangerously free. Sitting up, the jetsetter looped her fingers into an s-grip under Morrison’s chin and reefed back to pour pressure on her captive’s shoulder with an Arm-Trap Crossface.
With her mouth being forcibly pulled shut, Tulip could only make ‘nnn’ sounds and waggle a finger on her free hand as Al Carpenter slid in to ask her about submission. Up above, Zoë happily yanked back on her chinlock and squeezed with her legs, enjoying the feeling of another opponent writhing beneath her. “So far you’ve shown no style, no brains and no chance. It’s about time these people got to see a real woman of class. Can you at least try to pretend you’ve got some guts or do you want to just get out of my spotlight right now?”
The fingers under her chin denied Tulip the option of a verbal retort, so instead she responded by swinging a few slaps up towards where she thought the brunette’s head might be. Zoë just gave a mocking laugh and pulled her head away, so Morrison changed tack, planting that free hand and using it to push towards the nearby ropes. It took a good deal of humiliating wriggling, and almost a minute of jarring pain in her neck and shoulder, but eventually Tulip hauled her burden the final few inches and reached out to take a firm grasp on the bottom rope.
“BBBBRRRR” she yelled, teeth clenched even harder as Zoë gave the hold a particularly vicious jerk. But this was enough for the referee to start demanding her release. Tulip held on, feet kicking in pain, as the rich girl whined and complained and the official started a loud and authoritative count. When he’d finally reached four Scott released with a gesture as if she had just been touching something dirty and stood up, the sudden freedom sending a wave of relief over the hippie chick’s aching upper body.
The sight of the redhead staying down on the matt and urgently massaging feeling back into her shoulder was enough to convince Zoë that she’d earned an early night. Sure, she’d planned to spend a bit more time showing her audience what a real star looked like, but the girl stunk like an incense shop and might well have literally bathed in the stuff, so she wasn’t in any hurry to touch her again. Deciding that she could end this with a bit of flash, the jet setter set off on a sprint parallel to the ropes, twanging off them and returning with even more momentum. She hurdled Tulip’s supine body, took two more steps and then jumped again, this time landing with both feet across the middle rope. Launching off this springboard with a graceful flip, Scott tucked her knees a little so that they crashed HARD down onto the small of Morrison’s back.
The Springboard Moonsault caused Tulip to let out a moan but she could do little else as Zoë hooked a quick half nelson, hauled her onto her back and simply pushed her ample chest down on top of the redhead’s, certain that she didn’t need a leg hook or even any leverage. And she might have been right as the ref slid in for…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
Tulip kicked her legs free with half a second to spare, breaking the count. Zoë growled, pulling the busty redhead back down to the canvas, this time hooking the far leg and putting her forearm against Tulip’s jawline to secure the pinfall.
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOOO!
If Scott had secured Morrison up the first time she might have gotten the win, but her error gave the Kentucky native time to recover and get a bit of her wind back. Zoë turned her anger towards Carpenter, but he only held two fingers up and stepped back, not engaging with the jetsetter. Tulip took advantage of Zoë’s attention being elsewhere to roll to the ropes and used the strands to climb back to her feet.
The busty brunette huffed at the third person in the ring, making a mental note to talk to someone about the attitude of the referee’s in FAWN. Turning her attention back to the wounded redhead Scott marched over to Tulip and buried a fist into the Hippie Chick’s tummy, doubling her over. The expat either grabbed Morrison by the ears or just two handfuls of red locks, pulling her, still bent over, out into the ring. Once away from the ropes Zoë guides Tulip’s noggin between her own suntanned thighs and locks down.
Scott, never above a little showmanship, stands with both arms extended squeezing Tulip’s skull with powerful thighs as the crowd boo. Morrison wiggles and squirms trying to break free of the fleshy trap, Zoë taking her time still working the standing headscissors before reaching down to wrap her arms around the redhead’s waist. Before the jetsetter can secure her grip, Tulipfinds both of Scott’s ankles and pulls them out from under the brunette.
Zoë eeps as she’s dropped on her toned backside for the second time in the match, Morrison’s head pops free and she stands over the rookie holding her legs in a loose ‘V’. The FAWNatics cheer and call for Tulip to take the easy revenge and crotch stomp Scott. The brunette, apparently thinking the same thing, tries to cover her private area with her hands, furiously shouting “Don’t you dare!”
Tulip has no intentions of such a heel move, at least on someone that hasn’t done it to her yet. Morrison does stick her right foot between the brunette’s thighs but stomps down on Zoë’s stomach instead of the more vulnerable target. Scott grunts in pain, but that was only a distraction as Scott finds out quickly when the Hippie Chick lifts her legs higher and begins to turns Zoë over. On her side the brunette recognizes the danger and begins fighting to keep from being turned face down. Morrison’s worked over shoulder is burning as she struggles, but a few well placed kicks to the brunette’s spine and Tulip is able to step over and locks in the Boston Crab.
The FAWNatics begin chanting, “TAP!, TAP!, TAP!” over and over. Morrison tucks Scott’s ankles under her arms and wiggles her butt on the rookie’s shoulder blades as she settles into the Boston Crab. Al kneels out in front of Jet Setter asking if Zoë wants to submit. Scott shakes her head ‘no’ and waves Carpenter out of the way as she digs her elbows into the canvas and begins the slow process of dragging herself towards the ropes.
Tulip keeps the pressure on Zoë as she makes the long crawl and after nearly a minute the ropes are only an inch away from Scott’s grasp. She doesn’t have to make the final lunge though as Morrison drops her legs and steps away beforehand. Perhaps not quite believing this unexpectedly early freedom Scott still crawls the last bit of distance to the ropes anyway and hangs on, working hard to keep the babyface from grabbing her again.
As her hand wraps around the bottom cable Zoë feels her ankles being lifted as she’s dragged back out into the center of the ring. Tulip flips the rookie over to her back, Scott starting to complain to Carpenter again, but cut off as the redhead stomps a stylized boot into her tummy. Zoë’s body jerks, her arms covering her taunt abs. Morrison takes off for the cables behind her, firing herself back towards the downed brunette. A few feet away the redhead leaps, flipping in the air she comes down with her left leg across Zoë’s plentiful bounty. Scott’s legs jerk after the flipping leg drop, but her torso is pinned under Morrison’s ivory thigh.
Now the crowd is really roaring for the redhead, Tulip popping to her feet and taking off once more towards the ropes closest to Zoë’s feet. The Jet Setter is still stunned from the impact of the flipping leg drop, her hands rubbing at her straining sports bra in an attempt to dull the pain beneath it. Morrison bounces off the cables like a tye-dyed pinball and races back, leaping from Scott’s feet and throwing her legs out to come down butt first on Zoë’s gurls. More wind is knocked out of the rookie as the Hippie Chick sits atop her bosom. Tulip, all grins now, spins around, floating over into a cover and showing up the experience gap by hooking the far leg.
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOOO!
Al looks as shocked as the FAWNatics and Tulip as Zoë kicks out. Zoë rolls to her side, taking deep breaths trying to fill her lungs with oxygen. Morrison pushes sweat soaked read hair out of her face, shaking her head as she stands. Tulip reaches down and presses palms to the sides of Scott’s head lifting the brunette back to her feet. The jetsetter on rubbery legs leans against the Kentucky Native as Tulip tries to lift Zoë up on to her shoulders.
Panicing as she realises what’s about to happen, Zoë drove her elbow into the shoulder she worked on earlier in the match. The first blow causes Morrison to wince in pain, but Scott lands two more and then switches to clubbing forearms driving Tulip down to the canvas. Zoë falls backwards, the renewed pain in her hurting derriere somewhat tempered by bludgeoning the red head Wal-mart into the matt. Scott looks around the ring, getting her senses back as Tulip rubs the now visible red patch on her shoulder.
“If you ever try put those horrible drug-riddled hands on my body again I’m going to snap that arm right off.” Tulip seemed about to respond but Zoë, furious, had heard quite enough. She pushed to her feet and dashed into a low dropkick, driving one sneaker hard into that throbbing shoulder. Morrison tried to get an arm up to ward her off but wasn’t quite able to avoid the blow, her words changing into a yelp of pain as she was driven down onto her side.
Zoë took a few steps backward and launched forward with as much speed as she could muster, lifting one leg to deliver a punt into Kentucky ribs. Or at least that was the plan. Again displaying veteran instincts, Tulip rolled over juuuuust enough to avoid the swinging Yeezy. Completely surprised, Scott tried to bring her follow-through back down to turn her embarrassing miss into an axe kick, but again Morrison was too savvy, reaching up to catch that foot and keep it captured as she scrambled back to vertical.
A yank on that captive ankle was enough to get Scott hopping to retain her balance, her hands waving in an attempt to wordlessly beg off from whatever Tulip had planned. But with little chance of escape the redhead decided she had time to respond to the rich girl’s constant catty comments. “That mouth of yours has already got you into trouble like twice in this match, girl. I’m going to teach you to that actions mean a lot more than words, and trust me when I say you’re lucky to get that lesson from me than from someone like HAAAA TOO SLOW!”
Despite her precarious position Zoë was still furious and still unwilling to listen to lectures from some nobody who might have literally been alive in the Summer of Love. As soon as she thought Tulip was distracted she used her one free leg to launch into a spin, aiming to take the hippie’s head off with an enziguri. But she must have taken a fraction too long; Morrison saw her coming and ducked her head smoothly under that swinging boot.
Unfortunately for Tulip, just as she was congratulating herself on this lightning quick evasion, Zoë improvised by continuing her rotation and bringing that leg around to take out the hippie chick’s knees. Both fighters landed in a messy heap on the matt, but Scott had been the more prepared for this and it worked in her favour. She was back up in a trice and had quickly secured a grip on both Morrison’s boots, spreading her legs into a V as she lay on her back.
Zoë smiled down, pleased at the role reversal of her situation from a few minutes before. “The reason you’re such a failure is because you don’t take advantage of opportunities,” she smiled. “Let me demonstrate.” Not caring that Tulip had specifically spared her this indignation a short while ago, Scott raised one foot and brought the heel SLAMMING down hard between Kentucky legs. The crowd let out a collective moan in sympathy, growing louder as two more heartless stomps landed in the hippie’s tie-died crotch. When Morrison’s spasming finally shook her legs free, Zoë simply spread her arms and basked in the boos as the redhead writhed at her feet.
Her reverie was interrupted by Al Carpenter stepping up in front of her. “C’mon Zoë, I thought you were meant to be classier than that,” he implored, “If you go to her trunks one more time I’m going to have to disquaHEY!” Scott raised one closed hand up just in front of his face and then popped it open, the flashbulb mime clearly telling him to talk to the hand. Then she was off, sprinting to the far ropes and returning at top speed to dive into a low dropkick. Tulip, still on her back and preoccupied with trying to quell the fire in her groin, took the shot full force and was driven into a barrel roll under the bottom rope and down onto the floor near the entrance ramp.
Glancing up at her assistant sitting nearby, Zoë caught her eye and raised her voice a little. “Bel, I’m bored.”
The big blonde was quickly on her feet, but Scott turned away from her, stomping over to where Carpenter was trying to check on Tulip’s landing. “Hey, Adam, what the hell is your problem?” she demanded, pushing her body between him and the ropes so that he had to look her way. “You count slow, let that horrible hag wipe her hobo stench all over me, insult me, and still I’m the one you want to disqualify?”
Carpenter knew he was being distracted from one of his charges, but he had to address the allegations about his officiating. “My name is Al, Zoë. And you know I can’t let you give her low blows all night.” He tried to turn back and was forced round again when the jetsetter stepped right up into him. “I didn’t hear you shouting about class when she did the exact same thing to me, ‘Al’,” she hissed, “or when you tried to count me out fast. The only people more desperate to screw me than you are my Instagram followers…”
Meanwhile, oblivious to the argument going on in the ring, Tulip had rolled over to her front and pushed up to all fours. She had just started to rise further when the toes of two cowboy boots stepped into her vision simultaneous with two strong hands grasping her hair. She had a nanosecond to remember the ‘assistant’ who’d been sitting at ringside before her vision was blocked by a pair of strong thighs as she was pulled into a standing headscissor.
The hippie chick immediately began wriggling, mustering all her energy in the hopes of pulling free, but her already depleted state and the raw power pulsing through Isobel Lamont’s legs kept her trapped tight as the blonde leisurely reached down to loop arms around her waist. In another second Lamont had hauled up and flipped the redhead over into a reverse straddle on her shoulders, the classic position for a powerbomb.
A ‘bomb onto the thinly matted concrete was a worrying enough scenario that the crowd started yelling for Carpenter’s attention, but Isobel seemingly had other plans anyway. Tulip had barely been on her shoulders for a second before the big blonde swivelled through 90 degrees, took a small step back and DROVE down with all of her considerable might.
This adjustment had the effect of altering Morrison’s landing so that instead of falling on the matting she crashed down at an angle across the edge of the ring apron. The momentum caused her body to bend around the impact point, with her neck whiplashing backwards and the back of her head colliding sickeningly with the matt. This seemed to be enough to just switch out Tulip’s lights, the redhead’s eyes open but glazed as she slid bonelessly to the floor.
By this time Carpenter had finally managed to get some space, turning back around just in time to see Lamont shovelling Tulip’s lifeless body back up onto the apron and under the ropes. Zoë abandoned their argument without a second thought, charging over to the pile of redheaded wreckage and pulling her by an arm out to the centre of the ring. The crowd were in full-throated disapproval by this point, and even Al was asking that she just go for the (surely academic) pin so Tulip could get some medical help, but Scott wanted one more moment in the limelight.
Sitting down beside her victim, Zoë slid her legs underneath Morrison’s unmoving torso and looped them around her shoulders. Then she reached forward to clasp her hands behind the hippie’s head and leaned back, stretching out her body to bring as much pressure to bear as she could on Tulip’s already damaged neck and shoulders with the hold she just called The Spotlight.
The first time Zoë had applied her finisher in FAWN her victim had been writhing, squirming and fighting the whole time. But Tulip did none of those things, the impact of Lamont’s apron bomb enough to leave her insensate, heavy eyelids drooping closed despite the damage being done to her already hurting neck. Looking up at the referee with a shockingly innocent expression, Scott said “I know everyone wants to share my spotlight but this one really isn’t making the most of it. Be a dear and check on her?”
With Tulip seemingly not in possession of her faculties a verbal submission was not likely, and both her arms were tied up by Scott’s honey-tanned legs. Thinking on his feet Carpenter quickly slid round to grasp one Kentucky leg, raising and dropping it once…
…twice…
…And a third time, with no response.
Hurriedly gesturing to the timekeeper, Al kneewalked round to the side and pulled on Zoë’s still straining arms. “She’s out!” he shouted to the uncaring expat, “I don’t know what you did but she needs medical attention. Let her go right now or I’ll reverse the decision!”
Zoë didn’t respond until she heard the clang of the bell. Then she roughly pushed Tulip’s lifeless head away from her as though it was something disgusting and sticky, slid out from underneath her body, and clambered to her feet just in time to hear the announcer say “Your WINNNER, by way of knockout…ZOË SCOTT!”
A crescendo of booing greeted the outcome, but the jet setter didn’t seem to care in the slightest. Seeming to forget all about her redheaded prey, slowly coming back around with Al Carpenter’s help, Zoë waved her arms and took another circuit of the ring, seeming delighted despite the clear anger in the crowd. Then she gestured to Isobel, who quickly and silently acquired a live microphone and handed it to her boss.
“Soon…” Despite the amplification Zoë’s voice could barely be heard over the crowd jeering, but she carried on regardless. “Soon the lovely people who run this promotion will realize that I’m the superstar people come to see, and let them watch me on primetime instead of as a warmup. Until then, well, just make sure y’all get here good and early so you can bathe in my spotlight.”
Handing the mic back, Zoë gathered her jacket and shades from her assistant and slipped both on. Then she rolled under the bottom rope and strolled happily up the ramp, Isobel following in her wake and boos ringing all around them both.
GROOVE IS IN THE HEART:
www.youtube.com/watch? v=3_CKBjws6TY
TULIP MORRISON
Popping out from behind the curtain is a small red head, Tulip Morrison. The Hippie Chick is dressed in a multi colored tie-dye Tankini and ankle high wrestling shoes. Tulip’s pads where white when she bought them, but now she’s personalized them with painted on Smiley face suns, flowers and just bright colored swirls. Tulip bounces down the ramp waving to the crowd and heads to the rails slapping hands and greeting fans.
The bodiless Ring Announcer makes the introduction, “From Springfield, Kentucky, she stands 5’3” tall and weighs in tonight at 118 pounds…Tulip Harmony Morrison!”
Tulip stops as her name is call pointing at herself yelling, “That’s ME!” before continuing on to greet more fans. Tulip stops and climbs up on to the railing and blows a kiss to a fan holding a Flower Power sign.
Morrison rolls under the bottom rope, and moves to the center of the ring blowing kisses to the fans. Tulip moves to her corner still smiling and waving to the crowd. The referee Al Carpenter checks her pads and boots, Tulip wasn’t bothered by the insistence of the rookie that she came out last, but it was a bit against the protocol as it’s usually the veteran that gets the honor of coming out second. The Kentucky Native runs her fingers under the shoulder straps of her tye-dyed tankini before she resumes stretching as she waits for her opponent.
Then all the lights in the auditorium go off, except for five spotlights which slowly circle the crowd. As their beams move closer together the PA kicks back to life, blaring four words which announce one of FAWN’s newest and brashest talents:
ALL OF THE LIGHTS:
youtu.be/HAfFfqiYLp0? t=1m6s
With the spotlights all focussed on one point at the top of the ramp, a figure walks forward and spreads her arms, apparently basking in the pool of pure white around her. A pair of oversized shades with a Gucci logo cover her eyes and a cream leather jacket hides most of her torso, but she’s left it open to leave an impressive swell of her chest visible, contained within grey Calvin Klein-style sports bra. Her curvy derriere is continued in matching CK briefs, with personalised white kneepads and a pair of olive Yeezys adorning her feet. As Rhianna’s voice tells everyone she ‘wants y’all to see this’, the figure raises both hands to mimic popping flashbulbs, then begins dabbing and shimmying as the lighting switches into a frenetic strobe across the arena.
ZOË SCOTT
The curvy brunette figure starts making her way leisurely down the ramp as the announcer makes himself heard over the music. “And her opponent, from Dubai, United Arab Emirates, she stands at 5’4” and weighs in tonight at 119lbs…Zoë SCOTT!” At the sound of her name the jetsetter gave a short wave then hopped up onto the ring apron, pausing to remove her shades and jacket.
As she was disrobing it quickly became apparent that she had brought someone else down to ringside with her, although not sharing the spotlight. The other girl was blonde and considerably taller and broader than Zoë, clad in a tight black top which did nothing to hide seemingly endless curves, skintight blue jeans, black cowboy boots and a black Stetson. The woman whom a few dedicated fans identified as Zoë’s assistant Isobel Lamont took her employer’s accessories, folded the jacket neatly and took an empty chair near the announce table, pulling a smartphone from her pocket.
ISOBEL LAMONT
Showing no interest in her assistant, referee Al Carpenter, or even her opponent, Zoë slid through the ropes and went on a tour of the ring, waving enthusiastically to all sides despite the generally negative response coming back at her from the crowd. Once her lap was done she settled into her corner, but then turned back to her assistant and wordlessly demanded the smartphone.
Tulip bounces side to side on the balls of her feet waiting for the bell, as Zoë types out another tweet before the match. The brunette finishes up and tosses her phone to a ring attendant on the outside, the man quickly hurrying it back to her waiting blonde assistant. Phones around the arena go off as Scott’s followers get her latest thoughts:
From: Zoë Scott – About to finish off another Walmart #GreatScott
Referee Al Carpenter raises an eyebrow, but he assumes the rookie is finally ready and calls for the bell.
DING…DING…DING.
Zoë steps out of her corner, hands on hips as the rookie looks over the FAWN veteran before asking, “I thought FAWN paid its wrestlers well, why are you wearing my grandma’s clothes?”
Scott looks up and down the redhead, “Seriously, those aren’t even Walmart. Where did you get that? Goodwill, or the dumpster out back?”
The redhead looks down herself, her tie dyed tankini, pads and boots had all been done personally by the Kentucky girl. Tulip still loves the look and is proud of her gear, looks up at the busty brunette, “I made them, and I’ll take my personalized gear over your overpriced rags any day.”
Zoë starts to open her mouth to respond, but Tulip launches herself forward slamming a forearm into Scott’s upper chest. Morrison then quickly underhooks the brunette’s left arm and humps Zoë up and over with a clean hip toss. The Blessed brunette lands hard, but rolls through and comes up on one knee by the ropes that she grabs on to, a shocked look on her face as she can’t believe the Hippie chick had the nerve to start while Zoë was addressing her.
Tulip waits at mid-ring hands up and ready crouched in a good wrestling stance, “It’s not the outfit honey, it’s the woman in it.”
Zoë brushes her chest off as if Tulip got something on the brunette’s ample cleavage, then rises proudly and stomps her way over to Morrison. Scott walks right into the redhead thrusting her bosom into Tulip’s own impressive rack and goes nose to nose with the Hippie Grappler, “No! You do not get away with a cheap shot Walmart.”
Tulip pushes her chest and head forward not backing down from the girl of privilege, “I’ve dealt with snobs like you before, and you don’t scare MAAAHHHH”
Zoë grabbed a handful of red hair near the end of Tulip’s statement, and started pulling the Kentucky native towards the turnbuckles as Al tries to stop her with warnings and Tulip grabs Zoë’s wrist, but can’t remove the claw from her locks. Scott reaches the pads and bounces Morrison’s forehead off the top turnbuckle three times before release her hair and grabbing her by the shoulders to spin Tulip around. The rookie shoves the veteran back into the corner and begins to put her custom Yeezy footwear into the redhead’s stomach over and over with stomp like kicks.
Al Carpenter forces Zoë to back off only by reaching four of his five count. Zoë turns walking a semi circle out into the ring, Tulip groans holding her tummy after the attack. Scott reaches the point where she’s directly in front of the redhead and charges in. Leaping into the air Zoë pulls her knees up looking to drive them into the Hippie’s tye-dyed covered bosom, but Tulip rolls along the ropes out of harm’s way letting Scott’s knees nothing but the thinly padded steel of the buckles to hit. Zoë cries out as she hits and bounces off.
Tulip comes off the ropes right behind Scott and looks to take advantage of the rookies mistake, dropping down behind Zoë the redhead reaches up between her legs and puts her hand on the brunette’s flat stomach and pulls her backwards. A shocked look comes over Scott’s face as she’s pulled back over the redhead. Zoë ends up matchboooked on the canvas with Tulip atop the rookie’s backside.
ONE…
TWO…
KICKOUT!
It wasn’t really that close, but Al still signals to the time keeper it was only a two count. Zoë rolls away from the Hippie Grappler. Tulip also scrambles to her feet and the pair square off again from a few feet apart. Tulip tugs her tankini top down in front before crouching ready for another go. Scott snaps Calvin Klein bottoms back down into place and raises her arms as she moves it and accepts the collar and elbow lock up with the redhead.
Zoë pushes and twists finally getting to Tulip’s side enough to switch her grip and whip the readhead towards the ropes. Scott moves forward ready to meet the returning hippie, but Morrison leaps on to the middle strand and then shoots back with elbow raised and catches Zoë on the chin with a flying back elbow that sends the brunette crashing to the canvas. The FAWNatics cheer the baby face as Tulip who also ended up on the mat kips up to her feet and turns around acknowledging the crowds support before going back to the downed girl.
The shouts ringing from the FAWNatics urge their favourite to go for another cover, with the jet setter looking well and truly grounded after that last shot. Tulip considered this for a second, flashing a glance at Zoë’s burly assistant to judge whether she might intervene, and decided against it. Instead the hippie chick reached down to take a handful of chestnut locks, hauling the hissing expat up to her feet and…
…receiving a flashing thumb to her eye for her trouble. The illegal shot had been lightning fast and shielded from Carpenter by Zoë’s own head, meaning that he only got a hint of what happened when Morrison suddenly let out a yelp and released her hair holds to tend to that hurting eye. This left her completely undefended when Scott, still recovering from that flying elbow, flung a boot up hard into the hippie’s tie-dyed chest.
Tulip staggered backwards from the blow, hands dropping to check everything was still in place within her tankini but not quite low enough to catch Zoë’s follow up shot which buried into her gut. The redhead doubled forward around the boot in her tummy, exactly what Scott had been hoping for. Snatching one wrist she stepped to the side and twisted the arm up into a fast hammerlock which was enough to force Morrison to bend forward again, then hooked her free hand around opposing neck and transferred her grip. With Tulip not quite sure in which direction her escape might lie, Zoë took a big handful of tie-dyed bottoms and hauled up and backwards in a gorgeous hammerlock suplex.
The move had the twin benefits of wrenching on the trapped arm and forcing a nasty landing on the back of Tulip’s neck, the hippie chick sprawling out of her opponents grip and coming to rest on her side. She immediately reached over to massage the hurting shoulder, only to have a Yeezy appear in her peripheral vision and slam into the hurting joint.
Morrison rolled over on her front, hoping to get some protection or at least avoid a pin. But Zoë didn’t seem to be too bothered by this, happy instead to launch another three quick stomps at that hurting shoulder. Tulip propped up on her hands and swatted away at the encroaching trainers, earning a snigger from the jet setter.
“So you dress like someone’s grandma, smell like a hobo, and hit like a pussy,” Zoë snarled down. “I guess you’re pretty good at snivelling helplessly on the floor though. I think you might be really good at DAAAHH…”
Tulip’s arm swung out, hooked onto the back of one fancy sneaker, and pulled it out from underneath her opponent with enough force to send the spotlight queen crashing down on her butt in a pratfall which was both painful and embarrassing. Zoë, fuming at the second interruption, took a second to scramble to her feet and was met there by a revitalised Morrison swinging another elbow at her temple. With no time to react, the brunette took this full in the face and swayed backwards, legs suddenly showing a pronounced wobble.
The crowd let out another roar of approval but something else was on Morrison’s mind. Usually the hippie chick was pretty easy going on the trash talk, as might be expected, but something about this newbie with her flashy clothes and haughty attitude had riled her. “Turns out I throw a pretty mean elbow, huh Zoë?” the redhead called. “Too bad you take it like a little girl. Let’s try that one again.” With that she dived forward again, arm out and swinging round to deliver a lariat.
A few feet away, Zoë had heard the taunt and felt it adding to the already boiling pit of anger in her stomach. On the other hand the redhead’s uncharacteristic trash talk had given her a few extra seconds to get her body back under control, and she used this to her full advantage. With Tulip steaming in and clearly telegraphing her intentions, Scott did the unexpected thing by stepping forward to meet her and interrupting that outstretched arm before it could come round to take her head off. Moving with a burst of speed she grasped the outstretched limb in both hands and spun underneath, her grip forcing a surprised Morrison to rotate with her.
Zoë used this momentum and kept right on spinning, looping one hand aroudn the redhead’s neck and jumping off both feet at the same time to crash land on her back. The fall was a little uncomfortable for her but much more devastating for Tulip, spun round with unexpected force so that her neck was snapped nastily onto the matt. The force of the Arm-Trap Neckbreaker would have been enough to give anyone pause before getting up, but this situation was even more perilous because Zoë had kept her two-handed grip on the redheads arm. With little resistance she quickly slid her body round to scissor that captive limb between her thighs, leaving her hands dangerously free. Sitting up, the jetsetter looped her fingers into an s-grip under Morrison’s chin and reefed back to pour pressure on her captive’s shoulder with an Arm-Trap Crossface.
With her mouth being forcibly pulled shut, Tulip could only make ‘nnn’ sounds and waggle a finger on her free hand as Al Carpenter slid in to ask her about submission. Up above, Zoë happily yanked back on her chinlock and squeezed with her legs, enjoying the feeling of another opponent writhing beneath her. “So far you’ve shown no style, no brains and no chance. It’s about time these people got to see a real woman of class. Can you at least try to pretend you’ve got some guts or do you want to just get out of my spotlight right now?”
The fingers under her chin denied Tulip the option of a verbal retort, so instead she responded by swinging a few slaps up towards where she thought the brunette’s head might be. Zoë just gave a mocking laugh and pulled her head away, so Morrison changed tack, planting that free hand and using it to push towards the nearby ropes. It took a good deal of humiliating wriggling, and almost a minute of jarring pain in her neck and shoulder, but eventually Tulip hauled her burden the final few inches and reached out to take a firm grasp on the bottom rope.
“BBBBRRRR” she yelled, teeth clenched even harder as Zoë gave the hold a particularly vicious jerk. But this was enough for the referee to start demanding her release. Tulip held on, feet kicking in pain, as the rich girl whined and complained and the official started a loud and authoritative count. When he’d finally reached four Scott released with a gesture as if she had just been touching something dirty and stood up, the sudden freedom sending a wave of relief over the hippie chick’s aching upper body.
The sight of the redhead staying down on the matt and urgently massaging feeling back into her shoulder was enough to convince Zoë that she’d earned an early night. Sure, she’d planned to spend a bit more time showing her audience what a real star looked like, but the girl stunk like an incense shop and might well have literally bathed in the stuff, so she wasn’t in any hurry to touch her again. Deciding that she could end this with a bit of flash, the jet setter set off on a sprint parallel to the ropes, twanging off them and returning with even more momentum. She hurdled Tulip’s supine body, took two more steps and then jumped again, this time landing with both feet across the middle rope. Launching off this springboard with a graceful flip, Scott tucked her knees a little so that they crashed HARD down onto the small of Morrison’s back.
The Springboard Moonsault caused Tulip to let out a moan but she could do little else as Zoë hooked a quick half nelson, hauled her onto her back and simply pushed her ample chest down on top of the redhead’s, certain that she didn’t need a leg hook or even any leverage. And she might have been right as the ref slid in for…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
Tulip kicked her legs free with half a second to spare, breaking the count. Zoë growled, pulling the busty redhead back down to the canvas, this time hooking the far leg and putting her forearm against Tulip’s jawline to secure the pinfall.
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOOO!
If Scott had secured Morrison up the first time she might have gotten the win, but her error gave the Kentucky native time to recover and get a bit of her wind back. Zoë turned her anger towards Carpenter, but he only held two fingers up and stepped back, not engaging with the jetsetter. Tulip took advantage of Zoë’s attention being elsewhere to roll to the ropes and used the strands to climb back to her feet.
The busty brunette huffed at the third person in the ring, making a mental note to talk to someone about the attitude of the referee’s in FAWN. Turning her attention back to the wounded redhead Scott marched over to Tulip and buried a fist into the Hippie Chick’s tummy, doubling her over. The expat either grabbed Morrison by the ears or just two handfuls of red locks, pulling her, still bent over, out into the ring. Once away from the ropes Zoë guides Tulip’s noggin between her own suntanned thighs and locks down.
Scott, never above a little showmanship, stands with both arms extended squeezing Tulip’s skull with powerful thighs as the crowd boo. Morrison wiggles and squirms trying to break free of the fleshy trap, Zoë taking her time still working the standing headscissors before reaching down to wrap her arms around the redhead’s waist. Before the jetsetter can secure her grip, Tulipfinds both of Scott’s ankles and pulls them out from under the brunette.
Zoë eeps as she’s dropped on her toned backside for the second time in the match, Morrison’s head pops free and she stands over the rookie holding her legs in a loose ‘V’. The FAWNatics cheer and call for Tulip to take the easy revenge and crotch stomp Scott. The brunette, apparently thinking the same thing, tries to cover her private area with her hands, furiously shouting “Don’t you dare!”
Tulip has no intentions of such a heel move, at least on someone that hasn’t done it to her yet. Morrison does stick her right foot between the brunette’s thighs but stomps down on Zoë’s stomach instead of the more vulnerable target. Scott grunts in pain, but that was only a distraction as Scott finds out quickly when the Hippie Chick lifts her legs higher and begins to turns Zoë over. On her side the brunette recognizes the danger and begins fighting to keep from being turned face down. Morrison’s worked over shoulder is burning as she struggles, but a few well placed kicks to the brunette’s spine and Tulip is able to step over and locks in the Boston Crab.
The FAWNatics begin chanting, “TAP!, TAP!, TAP!” over and over. Morrison tucks Scott’s ankles under her arms and wiggles her butt on the rookie’s shoulder blades as she settles into the Boston Crab. Al kneels out in front of Jet Setter asking if Zoë wants to submit. Scott shakes her head ‘no’ and waves Carpenter out of the way as she digs her elbows into the canvas and begins the slow process of dragging herself towards the ropes.
Tulip keeps the pressure on Zoë as she makes the long crawl and after nearly a minute the ropes are only an inch away from Scott’s grasp. She doesn’t have to make the final lunge though as Morrison drops her legs and steps away beforehand. Perhaps not quite believing this unexpectedly early freedom Scott still crawls the last bit of distance to the ropes anyway and hangs on, working hard to keep the babyface from grabbing her again.
As her hand wraps around the bottom cable Zoë feels her ankles being lifted as she’s dragged back out into the center of the ring. Tulip flips the rookie over to her back, Scott starting to complain to Carpenter again, but cut off as the redhead stomps a stylized boot into her tummy. Zoë’s body jerks, her arms covering her taunt abs. Morrison takes off for the cables behind her, firing herself back towards the downed brunette. A few feet away the redhead leaps, flipping in the air she comes down with her left leg across Zoë’s plentiful bounty. Scott’s legs jerk after the flipping leg drop, but her torso is pinned under Morrison’s ivory thigh.
Now the crowd is really roaring for the redhead, Tulip popping to her feet and taking off once more towards the ropes closest to Zoë’s feet. The Jet Setter is still stunned from the impact of the flipping leg drop, her hands rubbing at her straining sports bra in an attempt to dull the pain beneath it. Morrison bounces off the cables like a tye-dyed pinball and races back, leaping from Scott’s feet and throwing her legs out to come down butt first on Zoë’s gurls. More wind is knocked out of the rookie as the Hippie Chick sits atop her bosom. Tulip, all grins now, spins around, floating over into a cover and showing up the experience gap by hooking the far leg.
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOOO!
Al looks as shocked as the FAWNatics and Tulip as Zoë kicks out. Zoë rolls to her side, taking deep breaths trying to fill her lungs with oxygen. Morrison pushes sweat soaked read hair out of her face, shaking her head as she stands. Tulip reaches down and presses palms to the sides of Scott’s head lifting the brunette back to her feet. The jetsetter on rubbery legs leans against the Kentucky Native as Tulip tries to lift Zoë up on to her shoulders.
Panicing as she realises what’s about to happen, Zoë drove her elbow into the shoulder she worked on earlier in the match. The first blow causes Morrison to wince in pain, but Scott lands two more and then switches to clubbing forearms driving Tulip down to the canvas. Zoë falls backwards, the renewed pain in her hurting derriere somewhat tempered by bludgeoning the red head Wal-mart into the matt. Scott looks around the ring, getting her senses back as Tulip rubs the now visible red patch on her shoulder.
“If you ever try put those horrible drug-riddled hands on my body again I’m going to snap that arm right off.” Tulip seemed about to respond but Zoë, furious, had heard quite enough. She pushed to her feet and dashed into a low dropkick, driving one sneaker hard into that throbbing shoulder. Morrison tried to get an arm up to ward her off but wasn’t quite able to avoid the blow, her words changing into a yelp of pain as she was driven down onto her side.
Zoë took a few steps backward and launched forward with as much speed as she could muster, lifting one leg to deliver a punt into Kentucky ribs. Or at least that was the plan. Again displaying veteran instincts, Tulip rolled over juuuuust enough to avoid the swinging Yeezy. Completely surprised, Scott tried to bring her follow-through back down to turn her embarrassing miss into an axe kick, but again Morrison was too savvy, reaching up to catch that foot and keep it captured as she scrambled back to vertical.
A yank on that captive ankle was enough to get Scott hopping to retain her balance, her hands waving in an attempt to wordlessly beg off from whatever Tulip had planned. But with little chance of escape the redhead decided she had time to respond to the rich girl’s constant catty comments. “That mouth of yours has already got you into trouble like twice in this match, girl. I’m going to teach you to that actions mean a lot more than words, and trust me when I say you’re lucky to get that lesson from me than from someone like HAAAA TOO SLOW!”
Despite her precarious position Zoë was still furious and still unwilling to listen to lectures from some nobody who might have literally been alive in the Summer of Love. As soon as she thought Tulip was distracted she used her one free leg to launch into a spin, aiming to take the hippie’s head off with an enziguri. But she must have taken a fraction too long; Morrison saw her coming and ducked her head smoothly under that swinging boot.
Unfortunately for Tulip, just as she was congratulating herself on this lightning quick evasion, Zoë improvised by continuing her rotation and bringing that leg around to take out the hippie chick’s knees. Both fighters landed in a messy heap on the matt, but Scott had been the more prepared for this and it worked in her favour. She was back up in a trice and had quickly secured a grip on both Morrison’s boots, spreading her legs into a V as she lay on her back.
Zoë smiled down, pleased at the role reversal of her situation from a few minutes before. “The reason you’re such a failure is because you don’t take advantage of opportunities,” she smiled. “Let me demonstrate.” Not caring that Tulip had specifically spared her this indignation a short while ago, Scott raised one foot and brought the heel SLAMMING down hard between Kentucky legs. The crowd let out a collective moan in sympathy, growing louder as two more heartless stomps landed in the hippie’s tie-died crotch. When Morrison’s spasming finally shook her legs free, Zoë simply spread her arms and basked in the boos as the redhead writhed at her feet.
Her reverie was interrupted by Al Carpenter stepping up in front of her. “C’mon Zoë, I thought you were meant to be classier than that,” he implored, “If you go to her trunks one more time I’m going to have to disquaHEY!” Scott raised one closed hand up just in front of his face and then popped it open, the flashbulb mime clearly telling him to talk to the hand. Then she was off, sprinting to the far ropes and returning at top speed to dive into a low dropkick. Tulip, still on her back and preoccupied with trying to quell the fire in her groin, took the shot full force and was driven into a barrel roll under the bottom rope and down onto the floor near the entrance ramp.
Glancing up at her assistant sitting nearby, Zoë caught her eye and raised her voice a little. “Bel, I’m bored.”
The big blonde was quickly on her feet, but Scott turned away from her, stomping over to where Carpenter was trying to check on Tulip’s landing. “Hey, Adam, what the hell is your problem?” she demanded, pushing her body between him and the ropes so that he had to look her way. “You count slow, let that horrible hag wipe her hobo stench all over me, insult me, and still I’m the one you want to disqualify?”
Carpenter knew he was being distracted from one of his charges, but he had to address the allegations about his officiating. “My name is Al, Zoë. And you know I can’t let you give her low blows all night.” He tried to turn back and was forced round again when the jetsetter stepped right up into him. “I didn’t hear you shouting about class when she did the exact same thing to me, ‘Al’,” she hissed, “or when you tried to count me out fast. The only people more desperate to screw me than you are my Instagram followers…”
Meanwhile, oblivious to the argument going on in the ring, Tulip had rolled over to her front and pushed up to all fours. She had just started to rise further when the toes of two cowboy boots stepped into her vision simultaneous with two strong hands grasping her hair. She had a nanosecond to remember the ‘assistant’ who’d been sitting at ringside before her vision was blocked by a pair of strong thighs as she was pulled into a standing headscissor.
The hippie chick immediately began wriggling, mustering all her energy in the hopes of pulling free, but her already depleted state and the raw power pulsing through Isobel Lamont’s legs kept her trapped tight as the blonde leisurely reached down to loop arms around her waist. In another second Lamont had hauled up and flipped the redhead over into a reverse straddle on her shoulders, the classic position for a powerbomb.
A ‘bomb onto the thinly matted concrete was a worrying enough scenario that the crowd started yelling for Carpenter’s attention, but Isobel seemingly had other plans anyway. Tulip had barely been on her shoulders for a second before the big blonde swivelled through 90 degrees, took a small step back and DROVE down with all of her considerable might.
This adjustment had the effect of altering Morrison’s landing so that instead of falling on the matting she crashed down at an angle across the edge of the ring apron. The momentum caused her body to bend around the impact point, with her neck whiplashing backwards and the back of her head colliding sickeningly with the matt. This seemed to be enough to just switch out Tulip’s lights, the redhead’s eyes open but glazed as she slid bonelessly to the floor.
By this time Carpenter had finally managed to get some space, turning back around just in time to see Lamont shovelling Tulip’s lifeless body back up onto the apron and under the ropes. Zoë abandoned their argument without a second thought, charging over to the pile of redheaded wreckage and pulling her by an arm out to the centre of the ring. The crowd were in full-throated disapproval by this point, and even Al was asking that she just go for the (surely academic) pin so Tulip could get some medical help, but Scott wanted one more moment in the limelight.
Sitting down beside her victim, Zoë slid her legs underneath Morrison’s unmoving torso and looped them around her shoulders. Then she reached forward to clasp her hands behind the hippie’s head and leaned back, stretching out her body to bring as much pressure to bear as she could on Tulip’s already damaged neck and shoulders with the hold she just called The Spotlight.
The first time Zoë had applied her finisher in FAWN her victim had been writhing, squirming and fighting the whole time. But Tulip did none of those things, the impact of Lamont’s apron bomb enough to leave her insensate, heavy eyelids drooping closed despite the damage being done to her already hurting neck. Looking up at the referee with a shockingly innocent expression, Scott said “I know everyone wants to share my spotlight but this one really isn’t making the most of it. Be a dear and check on her?”
With Tulip seemingly not in possession of her faculties a verbal submission was not likely, and both her arms were tied up by Scott’s honey-tanned legs. Thinking on his feet Carpenter quickly slid round to grasp one Kentucky leg, raising and dropping it once…
…twice…
…And a third time, with no response.
Hurriedly gesturing to the timekeeper, Al kneewalked round to the side and pulled on Zoë’s still straining arms. “She’s out!” he shouted to the uncaring expat, “I don’t know what you did but she needs medical attention. Let her go right now or I’ll reverse the decision!”
Zoë didn’t respond until she heard the clang of the bell. Then she roughly pushed Tulip’s lifeless head away from her as though it was something disgusting and sticky, slid out from underneath her body, and clambered to her feet just in time to hear the announcer say “Your WINNNER, by way of knockout…ZOË SCOTT!”
A crescendo of booing greeted the outcome, but the jet setter didn’t seem to care in the slightest. Seeming to forget all about her redheaded prey, slowly coming back around with Al Carpenter’s help, Zoë waved her arms and took another circuit of the ring, seeming delighted despite the clear anger in the crowd. Then she gestured to Isobel, who quickly and silently acquired a live microphone and handed it to her boss.
“Soon…” Despite the amplification Zoë’s voice could barely be heard over the crowd jeering, but she carried on regardless. “Soon the lovely people who run this promotion will realize that I’m the superstar people come to see, and let them watch me on primetime instead of as a warmup. Until then, well, just make sure y’all get here good and early so you can bathe in my spotlight.”
Handing the mic back, Zoë gathered her jacket and shades from her assistant and slipped both on. Then she rolled under the bottom rope and strolled happily up the ramp, Isobel following in her wake and boos ringing all around them both.