Post by hawkeye on Dec 7, 2017 0:18:51 GMT
With one Mite having already fallen to an Upstart in emphatic fashion, FAWN’s resident Ukrainian Party Girl is looking to make it a twofer with sub-125 gold on the line. The buzz from the crowd is at a fever pitch and the excitement only grows when the familiar sound of a Russian conversation chats up the amped audience and the unforgettable club groove krushes the house. The crowd hops to its feet for Snap’s The Power and for the arrival of the exotic, little party animal the song precursored. The ovation only grows when Katya pops out from behind the curtains, the tawny-skinned Upstart bumping and grinding to the beat. ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=z33tH-JdPDg )
KATYA MICHALKA
Ready to party like there’s no tomorrow and bring to an expedited end the reign of the Mighty Mite, the Ukrainian beauty bounds down the aisle, slapping hands with anyone she can reach. She bounces from one side of the aisle to the other and even stops for a quick bump-n-grind with a lucky few.
The crowd enthusiastically puts their hands together and swivels their much wider hips. And as the raven-haired grappler makes her way, the ring announcer provides the introduction for the Eastern European booty-shaking beauty.
“Tonight’s next contest is scheduled for one fall, has a time limit of 30 minutes, and is for the FAWN Lightweight Championship.”
The crowd roars in unison and the funky and spunky Rave Queen looks like she could light up the entire arena.
“First …standing 5 feet 3 inches tall and weighing in at 120 pounds from Kiev, Ukraine, she is FAWN’s raver extraordinaire…she is KATYA MICHALKA.”
The slinky, dark-haired vixen sweeps and dives, twists and shakes her way around the ring. Moving to the music, Katya bangs her head and twirls her hips in a hot pink cropped tee, neon blue hot pants with white ankle boots and rainbow-colored legwarmers up to mid-thigh, the bawdy, gaudy wardrobe is completed with a multi-colored assortment of ‘kandi’ bracelets on each forearm that shift up and down, collecting at her wrists in a pile before the next spin sends them off on another trip halfway to her elbow.
The electrifying, energetic lightweight hops to the apron and slides her way through. She pulls a few neon-colored glowsticks from her ‘warmers’ and sends them flying into the excited crowd.
Michalka then pops and locks her way to a corner, having one last bit of fun with the fans before readying for the business AND pleasure of claiming her first ever and much belated FAWN title, having come up short against Amara Singh for the Eurasian championship almost a year prior.
With Janel likely having splinters picked from her backside after being sent through a table by one Upstart, her partner paces nervously in preparation of facing another, the veteran in the ring hoping to end her time as a bridesmaid as the Mite backstage did not long ago.
Lady Gaga’s ‘Applause’ echoes throughout the arena and the assembled give Dominique Daly anything but what she normally craves.
(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pco91kroVgQ )
The former gymnast and Pac Rim beauty pushes through the curtains, bouncing out to center stage, the multitude’s volume growing in its renewed hate of the veteran gold-holder.
Dominique Daly
The vertically challenged hardbody is decked out in a gleaming gold leotard dusted with tiny stars in red, white and blue. Strategic rips reveal several swatches of Daly’s trim midriff, her chiseled tummy matching the perfectly-sculptured shoulders, arms and thighs. The look is complete with matching gold tape on her wrists and ankles, chalk powder on her palms and the soles of her bare feet. Around her waist is strapped a glittering accessory, the lightweight title.
Dominique is mesmerized as she gazes at the symbol of her division’s top spot. She unsnaps the belt and raises it high, the hatred only increasing in volume from the fans. Carefully, the champ returns her belt to around her flawless midsection.
Daly throws her head back, cups her hands around her mouth and shouts “HIT IT!”
The lights turn strobe, flickering on and off so fast even the most attentive fans can’t follow all of the effortlessly intricate series of tumbles, handsprings, flips and cartwheels that take the exotic brunette down the ramp. Tracking her is made all the more difficult by the thunderous trail of gold pyro that accompanies her journey from one end of the ramp and aisle to the other.
When the lights regain their equilibrium Daly is on the outside of the top turnbuckle opposite Kat.
Dominique throws her hands overhead in a ‘V’ and launches heavenward before spiraling into a descent that plants her in the center of the ring as the announcer initiates his introduction, Gaga going bye-bye.
“And her opponent. Hailing from Portland, Oregon. She stands five feet two inches tall and weighs in at one hundred and twelve pounds. She is the Mighty Mite…and she is the FAWN LIGHTWEIGHT CHAMPION…DOMINIQUE DALY!”
The crowd’s further chance to exhibit their disgust with Domi is cut short when Daly grabs the stick and shoos the announcer away.
“Shut your mouths and know my gold,” Daly shouts. “I told you Wendy was no match for me. She got herself disqualified when she realized she was out of her depth.”
Domi turns her gaze directly at Katya.
“And speaking of someone who doesn’t realize what she’s gotten herself into. Someone slip you something Party Girl? No way in hell do you really think you can dance with me and come out standing when the lights come up.”
Ignoring the hate filling the arena, Domi tosses the microphone back to its owner, pops to a handstand and “walks” to her corner, finally flipping to her feet. She unhooks her title belt and hands it to a FAWN flunky, dressing him down if he tarnishes it in the least.
Turning, the champ settles into an expectant crouch, waiting for the bell.
The tolling brings the Ukrainian Party Girl out for her title opportunity while Daly hops to a seat on the top buckle and yawns.
“So I kick Chloe to the curb,” Daly announces. “And now they’re sending me her second string?”
Michalka offers a smile, but is having a hard time hiding her irritation. Katya motions Domi off her perch and into battle. As the Mite starts to dismount, the Rave Queen rushes her foe. Determined to make a big first impression, the Upstart leaps toward a splash. Dominique, her arms still atop the uppermost cable on either side, leans back and lifts her bare feet off the canvas. Domi’s muscular calves clamp down around the neck of her fellow exotique and she shoves off from the corner.
With a practiced ease, the former gymnast flips away from the corner, the makeshift flying head scissors sending Katya somersaulting through the air in a far less controlled fashion than the lightweight champion. Michalka lands on her back, but the Party Girl doesn’t lack athleticism and rolls out and up from the landing with only the barest hint of a grimace.
Unfortunately for the Upstart and her fans, Daly’s kipped to her feet first and is ready with a precise dropkick to the chin when Kat spins to find the champion. Katya’s arms pinwheel as she fights to retain her balance, but the brunette only secures it when she stumbles in a backpedal into a corner.
Within the blink of an eye, the Mighty Mite is leaning a right forearm tight into Michalka’s chest to shove her in an arch over the top buckle. Balling her left set of digits, she sends a fist DRIVING into the taut belly of the Party Girl, Katya doubling slightly after the meaty thwack of knuckles to tummy. Seeming to enjoy the sound of impact and the soft groan from the Upstart, Domi follows with a second and a third before moving her hands to Katya’s left wrist.
Planting and pivoting, Daly sends the Ukrainian on her way with an Irish whip, the dark-haired beauty sent sprinting across the canvas with Daly almost immediately on her tail. Reaching the opposite buckles, Kat’s able to grasp the top ropes on either side and send her legs high into the air. A charging Mite races underneath and SLAMS into the buckles spandex-clad chest first as Katya lands behind her.
Reaching forward, Kat wraps her arms around the chiseled midriff of the champion, squeezing tight. Dropping into a slight crouch, Katya launches her foe up and over with a belly-to-back suplex, but the former gymnast uses her background for the save. Adding a little extra ‘oomph’ to the back flip, Dominique is able to land on the balls of her feet instead of crashing to her spine.
Racing forward the few steps to Kat, Domi lifts a right knee between the Upstart’s shoulderblades. Michalka lurches forward, arched in agony, her chest crashing into the corner. Bouncing away from the impact, the Rave Queen finds herself quickly caught in a reverse bearhug of the champ’s making and can manage little in the way of a reply when the sinewy Daly RIPS Katya off the deck. Domi holds onto her prize, making sure Kat wouldn’t repeat her acrobatic performance, and she THUMPS Michalka’s head and shoulders into the deck with a Bridging German Suplex.
With the dazed challenger stacked on her shoulder in a matchbook pin, tight little ass cheeks pointed to the rafters, Domi retains her bridging pin for the…
ONE…
TWO…
A squirming Katya manages to tumble to her side and prevent the Mite from collecting the quick win.
Dominique spins to find the official and the man shows her two extended fingers. Unsurprised, Domi nevertheless snorts in frustration, hoping to lay groundwork for a quicker count on the next attempt. Daly scrambles to her feet and puts several barefooted stomps into any piece of the Party Girl she can find available.
With Katya tenderized, she tugs her fellow lightweight to her feet and bullies her into the ropes. Using the spring of the cables, Domi shoots the Upstart across the canvas and, as Kat rebounds, Dominique races toward her. The women collide mid-ring in a pair of shoulderblocks that are evenly matched, the Pac Rim cutie from Portland staggering a few steps back while the Ukrainian Rave Queen does the same in the opposite direction.
Neither particularly stinging from the impact, though Domi is certainly more surprised by the stalemate outcome, champion and challenger turn and head for the ropes behind them. Each rebounds and surges back at the other, headed for another miniaturized showdown. But as they reach each other, Katya slides to the deck and skillfully wraps her ankles around one of the charging Domi’s. Tripped, Daly falls to the canvas courtesy Kat’s drop toe hold and Daly’s Pac Rim features lead the way to a collision with the canvas.
A cursing Daly rolls to her back, hands flying to her beak as she checks her aching nose. In a fit, her bare soles patter against the canvas in anger, only interrupted when a standing Katya snatches them and draws Domi’s abbreviated, muscular stems high and wide.
The almond-shaped peepers of the Portland native widen considerably. Her palms rise and shoot forward plaintively.
“Now…wuh…wait,” the Mite stammers. “Chloe would never. You don’t want to disappoint her.”
Lifting off between the parted limbs, Katya drops to the canvas with her legs extended inside those of Dominique’s, the tawny thighs of the titleholder slammed by the dual legdrops. A normal competitor might have also felt a twinge in her groin muscles from the forced widening of her lower limbs, but the limber quotient for the Mite’s legs are off the scale. Still, the pounding from the landing has Domi wincing and, when Kat draws back her right leg and slams a boot into the cleft of the champion’s bosom, Daly is flattened to the canvas.
Katya back somersaults to create some space and pops to her feet, surveying the damage with a smile. She boogies to the cheers of the FAWNatics, twisting and spinning, showing off a few of her dance moves. Meanwhile, a bewildered Daly pushes to her feet. The motion catches Kat’s attention out of the corner of her eye and she two-steps to her foe, leaping seamlessly into a perfectly-placed tornado kick that thumps against Domi’s left temple.
Tornado Kick (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sf5q3noCaqY )
Daly pirouettes from the impact then face plants in dramatic fashion, the crowd roaring as they can feel the door to another Upstart title reign opening wide. Katya lowers to all fours and shoves the champion into a semiconscious starfish in front of her. She dives atop the gobsmacked, ponytailed brunette in a crossbody pin, hooking Domi’s far leg for the…
ONE…
TWO…
Daly’s diminutive but power-packed frame has life in it and her muddled mind finds a way to fire the proper neurons. She kicks out to the disappointment of both the fans and the Rave Queen.
Kneeling on her haunches next to the splayed champ, Katya does a hand jive above her horizontal foe and finishes it with an open-hand craaack to the packed abdomen of the former gymnast. The sting sends Daly bolting to a jackknifed position where a forearm shiver to the chin from the Upstart delivers the harried Mite flat to the canvas.
Michalka passes on another cover, instead hopping to her feet. She pulls a green glowstick from one set of leg warmers and a purple from the other and waves them in figure 8s before tossing them to the begging crowd, the greedy Floridians diving to get free merch. As the FAWNatics fight for illuminated plastic tubes, Kat returns to her foe.
Daly is halfway to her feet and the challenger assists the rest of the way, grabbing her foe by a wrist and shoulder. The Upstart aims Domi at the far buckles and flings, Daly speeding to the corner at a speed approaching one of her tumbling runs. She turns and literally flies into the buckles, CRASHING into the lightly padded junction and dropping to her muscular gluteus, abbreviated legs extended in front of her, head bobbling.
Immediately, the crowd calls for an invitation to Katya’s House Party and the Party Girl is ready to oblige. She dashes toward her target and pulls up short enough to send a thrusting kick into the chest of the former gymnast. She thwacks away with several more, the FAWNatics picking up the beat with hand claps, waiting with baited breath for the big and painful payoff.
House Party (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f0Nhu5yNXwU )
But as Michalka goes into her preparatory spin, a dazed Daly grabs the bottom rope to her right and tugs herself out of the ring, landing in ungainly fashion on the thinly-padded cement floor. The reeling lightweight champ staggers away while a discouraged Kat can’t believe such a Party foul has been committed. She trails alongside Daly just inside the ropes when Domi suddenly turns, wraps her palms around the Ukrainian’s ankles, and tugs Katya’s feet out from under her.
Dominique drags the challenger out under the ropes to join her. The split-second Kat’s boot soles touch the floor, Domi lifts a knee and guts the Rave Queen, the Upstart going bug-eyed as she doubles over from the impact. Grabbing Katya’s dark locks with one hand and a wrist with the other, the Mite whips Michalka down the length of the ring, Kat spinning as she approaches, SLAMMING into the steel of the barricade.
Katya arches in agony, her vertebrae singing an unpleasant tune while Domi draws further into her second wind before following behind. Reaching her target at about half-speed, she leaps lower limbs extended. The legs clamp down around Katya’s noggin and the Mite sends her flipping through the air with a risky and well-rewarded rana. Katya’s spine slaps loudly against the floor and she skids to a stop, wedged against the metal barrier to her right, mewling in pain.
Up to ‘SEVEN’, the ref takes a beat out of his count to warn Daly she risks a disqualification.
Domi turns and glowers at the official. “I do believe she gets disqualified too, correct? And then I can take her a part in peace.”
The Mite sends a mudhole full of stomps into Katya, Michalka curling into a fetal ball from the incessant attack as the striped-shirt counts the rest of the way to ‘TEN” and signals for the bell. The announcer is quick to chime in behind.
“The result of this match is a double disqualification. As a result, STILL FAWN lightweight champion, Dominique Daly!”
The crowd offers their strong negative opinion on the result, the noise deafening. A delighted Daly trolls the crowd, lifting her arms as if in victory while delivering another bare foot to the battered Ukrainian.
A screech of static breaks the resounding boos and appearing on the upper stage is FAWN’s commissioner, Bethany Christian.
[Bethany Christian]
The nattily-attired executive clears her throat into the microphone held at her lips.
“Miss Daly. Your attention, please.”
Domi turns to her boss, one foot still lodged on the chest of the squirming Upstart. Her mouth opens in protest, but Bethany slams Daly’s lips together with a “SHUT IT”.
“Ladies. We are going to have a winner here tonight. Our fans deserve that much.”
The cheap pop draws a smile to Christian’s face.
“So there is no disqualification and I am restarting the match.”
This brings a huge roar from the crowd, which Bethany absorbs with a knowing nod.
“But it will not continue with a standard format. As you can see, my crew is already hard at work setting the guidewire that will hold the lightweight title belt above the ring.”
FAWN drones scurry to make the commish’s words their commands and some of the ground crew grab a ladder from underneath the ring to hook the Mite’s gold and leather in place above the ring.
Domi shakes her head in disbelief, leaves Kat puddled, and hops to the apron.
“Fine!” she shouts. “Ring the bell.”
“Tut, tut, Miss Daly. You will let my boy leave the ring with HIS ladder and Miss Michalka must be in the ring at the re-start. Only at that point can you proceed.”
Daly grabs the top rope and pulls it violently up and down, venting some of her frustration.
“Glad to be of service,” Bethany concludes. “Happy Halloween everyone.”
The words are barely out of the mouth of the boss when Daly turns and drops to the floor. She collects a now seated and wincing Katya by her ebony locks and drags the challenger to her feet.
“Why are you Upstarts always such a pain in the ass?”
Pulling the Party Girl to the apron’s edge, she slams the face of her fellow exotique into the mat then stuffs the stunned Kat in under the bottom rope. Expediting the situation, she checks under the apron for the necessary tools to accomplish defending her belt and comes out with a ladder of her very own. It’s a bit unwieldly but the diminutive Domi gets the metal conveyor to the deck and shoves it in.
The official, looking a little confused by the unusual course of events, hesitates on his next call, even after Daly slides in and leaps to her feet. The ever helpful Domi screams at the dimwit.
“We’re all here. Just like boss lady said. Start the damn match!”
The man can find no flaw in the Mite’s argument and signals for the bell. It quickly tolls a second later.
Not wasting any time, Domi moves to the ladder and plucks it off the canvas, setting it vertically. She pushes one set of legs out from the other and moves it to the middle, directly under her prized possession and above the stirring Upstart. Domi places a bare sole on the first step and calculates, removing her foot. She ducks under the steel path to her title and hauls Michalka to her feet.
The Rave Queen brings a European Uppercut up with her, sending Domi spinning into a head-first collision with the inside of one of the steps behind her. Dazed, she leans her chin on the step as Kat steps from between the ladder. Thinking quickly, Katya closes one side of the device toward the other and sandwiches the Mite inside with a loud CLUNK.
Daly’s lids clench in pain. Things go from bad to worse for the champion when Katya dropkicks the side of the ladder at the former gymnast’s back and sends it and her falling over with the spandex-covered grappler between. The top collapses across the top rope, leaving Domi extended and elevated, staring down at the canvas from a 45-degree angle. She struggles to free herself, while the Rave Queen wearily climbs to her feet.
Quickly determining it’s best not to use the current ladder in the ring and leave Domi stuck within, Kat moves to the opposite ropes and slides through. She drops to the floor along the apron’s edge. Lifting the skirt, Kat takes a look for another and, sure enough, the always ready FAWN crew stashed at least one more replacement. Michalka slides it out from under, leans the head against the ring, lifts and pushes it through.
With Domi having a hell of a time squirming free of her sandwiched position, Katya takes a moment to get a little cavorting in with the lucky denizens of the front row then surges to the ring and slides in, popping to her feet, seemingly energized by her new match life.
Passing on picking up the newly inserted ladder, Kat moves to the leaning version. She lifts the top portion at Domi’s back, but it’s not a generous gesture to free the Mite. Instead, when Domi starts to slip out, she SLAMS it back down across the rear of Daly’s neck and right shoulder. Daly howls in pain from the guillotine-like use. She’s out far enough to tumble free and land in a jumbled heap, rubbing at the back of her neck and cursing a blue streak, not much of it under her breath.
For her part, Katya is fast at work, clearing the wreckage of the Mite’s initial attempt, folding Domi’s dented device and stacking it in a corner. She kicks her still horizontal ladder to the side and moves to the champion instead. Grabbing Daly’s noggin with both hands, she tugs the doubled grappler to her feet. Showing her own brand of athleticism, Domi having bragged about her own relentlessly in pre-match promos, Katya hops onto the lowered back of the champion and locks herself in place with a scissors. Throwing her bodyweight to the right, the Party Girl RIPS Domi off her feet with her Rave Bomb Remix and PLANTS the back of Daly’s skull into the canvas.
Rave Bomb Remix (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XWw-_BO-kLI )
Katya ends with the champ splayed between her extended legs, the muscular ass cheeks of the former gymnast staring her in the face. She places her legs atop the shoulders of the demolished Domi before realizing the pin will no longer do her any good.
The Upstart tosses the crumpled Daly away, letting the ponytailed brunette spill to her side. Rising slowly but steadily, Kat surveys to the roar of the crowd and decides now is the time to garner her first championship belt. After rolling the destroyed Domi out of the way with a shove of her boot, Katya plucks “her” ladder off the deck and stacks it vertically. Carefully, the Upstart spreads the legs and locks them in place with the ladder directly below the dangling belt.
Warily she starts up, shooting a glance up at the gold after her first couple steps then down at a stirring Daly. She climbs to steps three and four, now several feet off the canvas and Domi is rousing, even up to one knee. Apparently determining she doesn’t have time to grab the gold before Daly would interrupt, she poises on her current step, grabs the frame of the ladder and launches, legs extended. Whatever Kat had in mind would remain in the imagination of the crowd, as Daly is able to reach her feet, catch the plummeting Katya on her shoulders and POWERBOMB her foe into the thinly-sheathed plywood.
Domi, on her knees in front of the ruined Party Girl, leans forward, folding Kat in a crushed matchbook below her. If pins counted, Daly would have won with ease, the seconds accruing to over a half dozen before Katya unfolds from beneath. A temporarily spent Daly seems to hope the longer she holds Michalka’s shoulders to the mat the more there’s a chance the powers that be will return the rules to include a pinfall win. It’s not to be.
Realizing this, the Pac Rim beauty pushes to her feet and tugs her ponytail tight, ready for the stretch dive to reclaim her title. Deciding the shifting Kat needs another dose of ‘stay down’ delivered from a REAL athlete, Daly leaps above the splayed Michalka and drops her extended right leg across the throat of Katya. The unique ‘splits version’ of the legdrop Domi employs has the Rave Queen shuddering and gagging. The Ukrainian pushes Domi’s leg off and rolls away, choking and gasping.
Dominique takes that as her cue and she pops to a handstand, ‘walks’ to the ladder, and tips to her feet, landing right-side-up at its base. Spreading her arms high and wide, she bows to the jeering of the FAWNatics.
Up she starts, deliberately, not wanting to make a mistake this late in the process. The spandex-sheathed Mite is halfway to her goal when the Rave Queen makes her knees. Redfaced and still having trouble getting air through her injured windpipe, Kat is nevertheless appropriately motivated by the sight in front of her. Pushing up, she reaches the side of the ladder’s base with Dominique three-quarters of the way to her prize. Pressing a palm into either riser, Kat shoves forward and the ladder tilts to its side before falling in that direction.
Domi rides it down from a couple steps short of her goal, one abbreviated sinewy stem ending on either side of the top rope, her crotch CRASHING into the rubber-coated steel of the uppermost cable. The FAWNatics groan in momentary sympathy for the silent, anguish-filled Daly, her features twisted in pain as she straddles the invading rope. Katya approaches and Domi pleads with the Upstart not to make her sticky situation any worse, the throbbing from her privates, welling her eyes. Kat obliges in her own way, eschewing grabbing the top rope and sending it deeper between her thighs, but leaping to an enziguri kick to Domi’s temple that spills her off the rope. Daly dumps to the deck, managing to remain on the apron, hands thrust deep into her aching crotch.
Michalka gazes at the overturned ladder, then down at the champion and the Upstart gets a mischievous grin. Dropping to a crouch, she grabs both wrists of the former gymnast and tugs Domi in under the bottom rope.
“We never did get to party together,” Katya chuckles, “at least at my house.”
The Ukrainian drags Domi to the nearest corner and sits her limply against the buckles, lower limbs extended. Kat kicks them a bit wider and retreats to the opposite buckles. Turning, she races toward the seated Daly, coming up short to deliver a kick to Domi’s chest. Getting jiggy between and clapping with the series of kicks that follow, Katya invites the entire audience to her House Party and they joyfully join in with their claps.
After a half-dozen kicks, Katya pirouettes and drops to her splits, sending a boot CRASHING into Domi’s already aching undercarriage. Daly’s almond-shaped eyes roll white as the pain drops her jaw, hands again flying to her privates. The Upstart pops to her feet, a twinge of guilt crossing her face before being lost in a beaming smile, while the Mite curls into a fetal ball.
House Party (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f0Nhu5yNXwU )
An excited anxiety grabs hold of the crowd as Katya moves from Dominique to the leaning ladder. The raven-haired grappler pushes the device up and off the top rope, straightening it under the coveted prize. Michalka tests the ladder, making sure it’s solid, before moving to the steps on the left side to ascend and take home her trophy.
The match is showing its wear on the Party Girl. Kat treads carefully up each step, so much so a murmur in the FAWNatics grows along with their concern. The organization’s self-proclaimed ‘greatest athlete’ emerges from her shell and struggles knock-kneed to the opposite side of the ladder. She begins her climb a couple rungs behind the challenger and the race is on. Kat reaches the top, her lead still in place and reaches for the lightweight gold. Her hand brushes against the gold and leather and sets it swinging.
Katya grabs for it again when it shifts back toward her. She manages to coral the belt and stop it from its swaying, then reaches a second hand to unhook the ultimate sub-125 accessory. But as she reaches the second hand up, Domi delivers a balled set of digits to the Upstart’s jaw that rocks the challenger and nearly sends her tumbling to the canvas far below.
Forced to bring her hands down in defense and away from the lightweight treasure, Katya blocks Daly’s next effort and delivers a right forearm to Dominique’s chest. Domi’s left hand grasps the top of the ladder while her right arm pinwheels to keep her in place. The fans will the Mite to fall but there’s no such luck for the Upstart Army. Instead, Domi regains her balance and laces her fingers with those of the Rave Queen in an elevated test of strength. The woman grapple for what little leverage can be found, swinging from side to side on their collective perch until the ladder starts to wobble with them.
With balance becoming a precious commodity for both, the duo bear down, seemingly barely noticing the knife-edge they’re on until it’s too late and both fly off the ladder, still locked. They SLAM to the canvas as one, landing on shoulders, the impact finally breaking their clenched, laced fingers. Mite and Upstart roll slowly away from one another, trying to judge their condition from and after the fateful fall.
The FAWNatics rhythmically clap as the women fight fatigue and their growing list of aches and pains to reach vertical and it’s the Party Girl from Kiev who answers the call a second before the former gymnast from the Pacific Northwest of Portland.
Katya approaches from Domi’s six and settles beside her, wrapping an arm around her foe’s midriff. She slips her head under the champ’s limp near arm and LAUNCHES the wide-eyed Daly HIGH into the air. Level with Kat’s shoulders and parallel to the canvas, Domi is sent in the opposite direction, but not back down to her feet. The Rave Queen adds a little more ‘oomph’ and SPLATTERS Daly into the deck face and chest-first with her signature Sugar Rush.
Sugar Rush (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PFpQaOEcnZk )
The wrecked Mite bounces over to her back from the brutal force of the impact and ends in a spreadeagle, but the Upstart knows there’s still the dangerous ascension to navigate. On hands and knees, she leaves what’s left of the titleholder and crawls to the base of the ladder. Katya uses the steel to get to her feet, not an easy task at this point. The ladder was shifted during the fighters’ fall and Michalka is forced to reposition her path to glory so she can reach the gold. Once in place, she casts a wary glance over a shoulder and begins heading up.
Michalka shakes out some lingering cobwebs and climbs. The ladder, a bit bent out of shape, wobbles slightly, but the raven-haired wrestler proceeds up to bring the gold back under Upstart control.
Stirring below her is the ever obstinate Mite, recovering from the ‘Sugar’ high. On hands and knees, she rattles her brain and pushes wearily to her bare tootsies. Noticing Katya halfway up, she puts aside the bumps, bruises and haziness and staggers to the ladder. Forgoing heading to the opposite side for a race, knowing Kat would beat her, Daly trails up the same side and, as Katya gets to the height necessary to make her grab for the gold, Domi latches onto an ankle of the challenger.
As Dominique tugs, trying to bring Michalka down, the Upstart tries to shake Daly off and kick her to the canvas curb. Both are unable to manage, but Domi keeps ascending in the process, giving up her grip in stages, moving from an ankle to wrapping her arms around Katya’s waist as she moves one step below. With the ladder tottering, the former gymnast reaches and perilously shares the same step.
To the incredulity and dismay of the crowd, Daly leaps from her station, changing her grip to around Katya’s throat. Fully committed, the champ wrestles the Upstart free of the ladder and together they fall the long distance to the deck with her supercharged Mitey Crash. Both women BANG into the mat, the ring rattling from the impact and, while Dominique isn’t without damage, she controls Katya’s impact point to deliver maximum cost.
Mitey Crash (from midway up the ladder) (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vOYLrSI0K7U )
As a wincing Domi sits up with a weary grin next to a splayed, semiconscious Kat, the crowd is silenced for a moment before a ‘Holy…Shit’ chant gains momentum and soon reverberates through the arena bowl. Daly pushes to her feet and moves to the ladder. She turns and starts climbing with her back to the steps. It slows her progress but gives her the advantage of never losing track of the demolished Katya.
Reaching one step from the top without so much as a shudder from the destroyed Party Girl, a delighted Domi turns to face the ladder and take a glance up at the gold, a little more than an arm’s length away. But instead of rising the step that would put her within reach, she SKIES off the ladder, backflipping into a soaring moonsault with likely double the air she gets from the top buckle. The self-proclaimed ultra-athlete proves it true on this incredible occasion, absolutely STICKING her dismount, both feet nearly plunging THROUGH Katya’s tummy.
The Party Girl folds in an agonized jackknife around the most ‘sticky’ dismount ever, Domi not bothering with the follow-up mini splash that usually concluded her finisher. Instead, she steps off Katya’s broken frame as it settles flat then dramatically wipes her feet behind her, leaving the Upstart in her mock dust.
Daly strides leisurely to the ladder and climbs without a care in the world as the crowd boos her relentlessly. She reaches the top then straddles it, allowing her to sit as she unhooks the belt and cradles it lovingly.
The official immediately calls for the bell and the announcer’s voice rises over the jeers.
“Your winner…and STILL FAWN Lightweight Champion…Dominique Daly!”
The Mighty Mite lifts the belt overhead with both hands having survived the Upstart as much as beaten her. She gazes down at Katya’s carcass, still unmoving, and nods knowingly, bringing the gold faceplate in for a smooch.
“Best athlete…best champion,” she screams after the kiss.
There might have been an urge to descend and give the Upstart an embarrassing ‘after-party’, but with Janel likely in the hospital and Bunny no doubt ready to pop out of some rabbit hole, Daly decides celebrating on the world’s highest throne will be sufficient tonight.
Cooper would be demolished even more thoroughly than her fellow Upstart soon enough.
KATYA MICHALKA
Ready to party like there’s no tomorrow and bring to an expedited end the reign of the Mighty Mite, the Ukrainian beauty bounds down the aisle, slapping hands with anyone she can reach. She bounces from one side of the aisle to the other and even stops for a quick bump-n-grind with a lucky few.
The crowd enthusiastically puts their hands together and swivels their much wider hips. And as the raven-haired grappler makes her way, the ring announcer provides the introduction for the Eastern European booty-shaking beauty.
“Tonight’s next contest is scheduled for one fall, has a time limit of 30 minutes, and is for the FAWN Lightweight Championship.”
The crowd roars in unison and the funky and spunky Rave Queen looks like she could light up the entire arena.
“First …standing 5 feet 3 inches tall and weighing in at 120 pounds from Kiev, Ukraine, she is FAWN’s raver extraordinaire…she is KATYA MICHALKA.”
The slinky, dark-haired vixen sweeps and dives, twists and shakes her way around the ring. Moving to the music, Katya bangs her head and twirls her hips in a hot pink cropped tee, neon blue hot pants with white ankle boots and rainbow-colored legwarmers up to mid-thigh, the bawdy, gaudy wardrobe is completed with a multi-colored assortment of ‘kandi’ bracelets on each forearm that shift up and down, collecting at her wrists in a pile before the next spin sends them off on another trip halfway to her elbow.
The electrifying, energetic lightweight hops to the apron and slides her way through. She pulls a few neon-colored glowsticks from her ‘warmers’ and sends them flying into the excited crowd.
Michalka then pops and locks her way to a corner, having one last bit of fun with the fans before readying for the business AND pleasure of claiming her first ever and much belated FAWN title, having come up short against Amara Singh for the Eurasian championship almost a year prior.
With Janel likely having splinters picked from her backside after being sent through a table by one Upstart, her partner paces nervously in preparation of facing another, the veteran in the ring hoping to end her time as a bridesmaid as the Mite backstage did not long ago.
Lady Gaga’s ‘Applause’ echoes throughout the arena and the assembled give Dominique Daly anything but what she normally craves.
(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pco91kroVgQ )
The former gymnast and Pac Rim beauty pushes through the curtains, bouncing out to center stage, the multitude’s volume growing in its renewed hate of the veteran gold-holder.
Dominique Daly
The vertically challenged hardbody is decked out in a gleaming gold leotard dusted with tiny stars in red, white and blue. Strategic rips reveal several swatches of Daly’s trim midriff, her chiseled tummy matching the perfectly-sculptured shoulders, arms and thighs. The look is complete with matching gold tape on her wrists and ankles, chalk powder on her palms and the soles of her bare feet. Around her waist is strapped a glittering accessory, the lightweight title.
Dominique is mesmerized as she gazes at the symbol of her division’s top spot. She unsnaps the belt and raises it high, the hatred only increasing in volume from the fans. Carefully, the champ returns her belt to around her flawless midsection.
Daly throws her head back, cups her hands around her mouth and shouts “HIT IT!”
The lights turn strobe, flickering on and off so fast even the most attentive fans can’t follow all of the effortlessly intricate series of tumbles, handsprings, flips and cartwheels that take the exotic brunette down the ramp. Tracking her is made all the more difficult by the thunderous trail of gold pyro that accompanies her journey from one end of the ramp and aisle to the other.
When the lights regain their equilibrium Daly is on the outside of the top turnbuckle opposite Kat.
Dominique throws her hands overhead in a ‘V’ and launches heavenward before spiraling into a descent that plants her in the center of the ring as the announcer initiates his introduction, Gaga going bye-bye.
“And her opponent. Hailing from Portland, Oregon. She stands five feet two inches tall and weighs in at one hundred and twelve pounds. She is the Mighty Mite…and she is the FAWN LIGHTWEIGHT CHAMPION…DOMINIQUE DALY!”
The crowd’s further chance to exhibit their disgust with Domi is cut short when Daly grabs the stick and shoos the announcer away.
“Shut your mouths and know my gold,” Daly shouts. “I told you Wendy was no match for me. She got herself disqualified when she realized she was out of her depth.”
Domi turns her gaze directly at Katya.
“And speaking of someone who doesn’t realize what she’s gotten herself into. Someone slip you something Party Girl? No way in hell do you really think you can dance with me and come out standing when the lights come up.”
Ignoring the hate filling the arena, Domi tosses the microphone back to its owner, pops to a handstand and “walks” to her corner, finally flipping to her feet. She unhooks her title belt and hands it to a FAWN flunky, dressing him down if he tarnishes it in the least.
Turning, the champ settles into an expectant crouch, waiting for the bell.
The tolling brings the Ukrainian Party Girl out for her title opportunity while Daly hops to a seat on the top buckle and yawns.
“So I kick Chloe to the curb,” Daly announces. “And now they’re sending me her second string?”
Michalka offers a smile, but is having a hard time hiding her irritation. Katya motions Domi off her perch and into battle. As the Mite starts to dismount, the Rave Queen rushes her foe. Determined to make a big first impression, the Upstart leaps toward a splash. Dominique, her arms still atop the uppermost cable on either side, leans back and lifts her bare feet off the canvas. Domi’s muscular calves clamp down around the neck of her fellow exotique and she shoves off from the corner.
With a practiced ease, the former gymnast flips away from the corner, the makeshift flying head scissors sending Katya somersaulting through the air in a far less controlled fashion than the lightweight champion. Michalka lands on her back, but the Party Girl doesn’t lack athleticism and rolls out and up from the landing with only the barest hint of a grimace.
Unfortunately for the Upstart and her fans, Daly’s kipped to her feet first and is ready with a precise dropkick to the chin when Kat spins to find the champion. Katya’s arms pinwheel as she fights to retain her balance, but the brunette only secures it when she stumbles in a backpedal into a corner.
Within the blink of an eye, the Mighty Mite is leaning a right forearm tight into Michalka’s chest to shove her in an arch over the top buckle. Balling her left set of digits, she sends a fist DRIVING into the taut belly of the Party Girl, Katya doubling slightly after the meaty thwack of knuckles to tummy. Seeming to enjoy the sound of impact and the soft groan from the Upstart, Domi follows with a second and a third before moving her hands to Katya’s left wrist.
Planting and pivoting, Daly sends the Ukrainian on her way with an Irish whip, the dark-haired beauty sent sprinting across the canvas with Daly almost immediately on her tail. Reaching the opposite buckles, Kat’s able to grasp the top ropes on either side and send her legs high into the air. A charging Mite races underneath and SLAMS into the buckles spandex-clad chest first as Katya lands behind her.
Reaching forward, Kat wraps her arms around the chiseled midriff of the champion, squeezing tight. Dropping into a slight crouch, Katya launches her foe up and over with a belly-to-back suplex, but the former gymnast uses her background for the save. Adding a little extra ‘oomph’ to the back flip, Dominique is able to land on the balls of her feet instead of crashing to her spine.
Racing forward the few steps to Kat, Domi lifts a right knee between the Upstart’s shoulderblades. Michalka lurches forward, arched in agony, her chest crashing into the corner. Bouncing away from the impact, the Rave Queen finds herself quickly caught in a reverse bearhug of the champ’s making and can manage little in the way of a reply when the sinewy Daly RIPS Katya off the deck. Domi holds onto her prize, making sure Kat wouldn’t repeat her acrobatic performance, and she THUMPS Michalka’s head and shoulders into the deck with a Bridging German Suplex.
With the dazed challenger stacked on her shoulder in a matchbook pin, tight little ass cheeks pointed to the rafters, Domi retains her bridging pin for the…
ONE…
TWO…
A squirming Katya manages to tumble to her side and prevent the Mite from collecting the quick win.
Dominique spins to find the official and the man shows her two extended fingers. Unsurprised, Domi nevertheless snorts in frustration, hoping to lay groundwork for a quicker count on the next attempt. Daly scrambles to her feet and puts several barefooted stomps into any piece of the Party Girl she can find available.
With Katya tenderized, she tugs her fellow lightweight to her feet and bullies her into the ropes. Using the spring of the cables, Domi shoots the Upstart across the canvas and, as Kat rebounds, Dominique races toward her. The women collide mid-ring in a pair of shoulderblocks that are evenly matched, the Pac Rim cutie from Portland staggering a few steps back while the Ukrainian Rave Queen does the same in the opposite direction.
Neither particularly stinging from the impact, though Domi is certainly more surprised by the stalemate outcome, champion and challenger turn and head for the ropes behind them. Each rebounds and surges back at the other, headed for another miniaturized showdown. But as they reach each other, Katya slides to the deck and skillfully wraps her ankles around one of the charging Domi’s. Tripped, Daly falls to the canvas courtesy Kat’s drop toe hold and Daly’s Pac Rim features lead the way to a collision with the canvas.
A cursing Daly rolls to her back, hands flying to her beak as she checks her aching nose. In a fit, her bare soles patter against the canvas in anger, only interrupted when a standing Katya snatches them and draws Domi’s abbreviated, muscular stems high and wide.
The almond-shaped peepers of the Portland native widen considerably. Her palms rise and shoot forward plaintively.
“Now…wuh…wait,” the Mite stammers. “Chloe would never. You don’t want to disappoint her.”
Lifting off between the parted limbs, Katya drops to the canvas with her legs extended inside those of Dominique’s, the tawny thighs of the titleholder slammed by the dual legdrops. A normal competitor might have also felt a twinge in her groin muscles from the forced widening of her lower limbs, but the limber quotient for the Mite’s legs are off the scale. Still, the pounding from the landing has Domi wincing and, when Kat draws back her right leg and slams a boot into the cleft of the champion’s bosom, Daly is flattened to the canvas.
Katya back somersaults to create some space and pops to her feet, surveying the damage with a smile. She boogies to the cheers of the FAWNatics, twisting and spinning, showing off a few of her dance moves. Meanwhile, a bewildered Daly pushes to her feet. The motion catches Kat’s attention out of the corner of her eye and she two-steps to her foe, leaping seamlessly into a perfectly-placed tornado kick that thumps against Domi’s left temple.
Tornado Kick (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sf5q3noCaqY )
Daly pirouettes from the impact then face plants in dramatic fashion, the crowd roaring as they can feel the door to another Upstart title reign opening wide. Katya lowers to all fours and shoves the champion into a semiconscious starfish in front of her. She dives atop the gobsmacked, ponytailed brunette in a crossbody pin, hooking Domi’s far leg for the…
ONE…
TWO…
Daly’s diminutive but power-packed frame has life in it and her muddled mind finds a way to fire the proper neurons. She kicks out to the disappointment of both the fans and the Rave Queen.
Kneeling on her haunches next to the splayed champ, Katya does a hand jive above her horizontal foe and finishes it with an open-hand craaack to the packed abdomen of the former gymnast. The sting sends Daly bolting to a jackknifed position where a forearm shiver to the chin from the Upstart delivers the harried Mite flat to the canvas.
Michalka passes on another cover, instead hopping to her feet. She pulls a green glowstick from one set of leg warmers and a purple from the other and waves them in figure 8s before tossing them to the begging crowd, the greedy Floridians diving to get free merch. As the FAWNatics fight for illuminated plastic tubes, Kat returns to her foe.
Daly is halfway to her feet and the challenger assists the rest of the way, grabbing her foe by a wrist and shoulder. The Upstart aims Domi at the far buckles and flings, Daly speeding to the corner at a speed approaching one of her tumbling runs. She turns and literally flies into the buckles, CRASHING into the lightly padded junction and dropping to her muscular gluteus, abbreviated legs extended in front of her, head bobbling.
Immediately, the crowd calls for an invitation to Katya’s House Party and the Party Girl is ready to oblige. She dashes toward her target and pulls up short enough to send a thrusting kick into the chest of the former gymnast. She thwacks away with several more, the FAWNatics picking up the beat with hand claps, waiting with baited breath for the big and painful payoff.
House Party (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f0Nhu5yNXwU )
But as Michalka goes into her preparatory spin, a dazed Daly grabs the bottom rope to her right and tugs herself out of the ring, landing in ungainly fashion on the thinly-padded cement floor. The reeling lightweight champ staggers away while a discouraged Kat can’t believe such a Party foul has been committed. She trails alongside Daly just inside the ropes when Domi suddenly turns, wraps her palms around the Ukrainian’s ankles, and tugs Katya’s feet out from under her.
Dominique drags the challenger out under the ropes to join her. The split-second Kat’s boot soles touch the floor, Domi lifts a knee and guts the Rave Queen, the Upstart going bug-eyed as she doubles over from the impact. Grabbing Katya’s dark locks with one hand and a wrist with the other, the Mite whips Michalka down the length of the ring, Kat spinning as she approaches, SLAMMING into the steel of the barricade.
Katya arches in agony, her vertebrae singing an unpleasant tune while Domi draws further into her second wind before following behind. Reaching her target at about half-speed, she leaps lower limbs extended. The legs clamp down around Katya’s noggin and the Mite sends her flipping through the air with a risky and well-rewarded rana. Katya’s spine slaps loudly against the floor and she skids to a stop, wedged against the metal barrier to her right, mewling in pain.
Up to ‘SEVEN’, the ref takes a beat out of his count to warn Daly she risks a disqualification.
Domi turns and glowers at the official. “I do believe she gets disqualified too, correct? And then I can take her a part in peace.”
The Mite sends a mudhole full of stomps into Katya, Michalka curling into a fetal ball from the incessant attack as the striped-shirt counts the rest of the way to ‘TEN” and signals for the bell. The announcer is quick to chime in behind.
“The result of this match is a double disqualification. As a result, STILL FAWN lightweight champion, Dominique Daly!”
The crowd offers their strong negative opinion on the result, the noise deafening. A delighted Daly trolls the crowd, lifting her arms as if in victory while delivering another bare foot to the battered Ukrainian.
A screech of static breaks the resounding boos and appearing on the upper stage is FAWN’s commissioner, Bethany Christian.
[Bethany Christian]
The nattily-attired executive clears her throat into the microphone held at her lips.
“Miss Daly. Your attention, please.”
Domi turns to her boss, one foot still lodged on the chest of the squirming Upstart. Her mouth opens in protest, but Bethany slams Daly’s lips together with a “SHUT IT”.
“Ladies. We are going to have a winner here tonight. Our fans deserve that much.”
The cheap pop draws a smile to Christian’s face.
“So there is no disqualification and I am restarting the match.”
This brings a huge roar from the crowd, which Bethany absorbs with a knowing nod.
“But it will not continue with a standard format. As you can see, my crew is already hard at work setting the guidewire that will hold the lightweight title belt above the ring.”
FAWN drones scurry to make the commish’s words their commands and some of the ground crew grab a ladder from underneath the ring to hook the Mite’s gold and leather in place above the ring.
Domi shakes her head in disbelief, leaves Kat puddled, and hops to the apron.
“Fine!” she shouts. “Ring the bell.”
“Tut, tut, Miss Daly. You will let my boy leave the ring with HIS ladder and Miss Michalka must be in the ring at the re-start. Only at that point can you proceed.”
Daly grabs the top rope and pulls it violently up and down, venting some of her frustration.
“Glad to be of service,” Bethany concludes. “Happy Halloween everyone.”
The words are barely out of the mouth of the boss when Daly turns and drops to the floor. She collects a now seated and wincing Katya by her ebony locks and drags the challenger to her feet.
“Why are you Upstarts always such a pain in the ass?”
Pulling the Party Girl to the apron’s edge, she slams the face of her fellow exotique into the mat then stuffs the stunned Kat in under the bottom rope. Expediting the situation, she checks under the apron for the necessary tools to accomplish defending her belt and comes out with a ladder of her very own. It’s a bit unwieldly but the diminutive Domi gets the metal conveyor to the deck and shoves it in.
The official, looking a little confused by the unusual course of events, hesitates on his next call, even after Daly slides in and leaps to her feet. The ever helpful Domi screams at the dimwit.
“We’re all here. Just like boss lady said. Start the damn match!”
The man can find no flaw in the Mite’s argument and signals for the bell. It quickly tolls a second later.
Not wasting any time, Domi moves to the ladder and plucks it off the canvas, setting it vertically. She pushes one set of legs out from the other and moves it to the middle, directly under her prized possession and above the stirring Upstart. Domi places a bare sole on the first step and calculates, removing her foot. She ducks under the steel path to her title and hauls Michalka to her feet.
The Rave Queen brings a European Uppercut up with her, sending Domi spinning into a head-first collision with the inside of one of the steps behind her. Dazed, she leans her chin on the step as Kat steps from between the ladder. Thinking quickly, Katya closes one side of the device toward the other and sandwiches the Mite inside with a loud CLUNK.
Daly’s lids clench in pain. Things go from bad to worse for the champion when Katya dropkicks the side of the ladder at the former gymnast’s back and sends it and her falling over with the spandex-covered grappler between. The top collapses across the top rope, leaving Domi extended and elevated, staring down at the canvas from a 45-degree angle. She struggles to free herself, while the Rave Queen wearily climbs to her feet.
Quickly determining it’s best not to use the current ladder in the ring and leave Domi stuck within, Kat moves to the opposite ropes and slides through. She drops to the floor along the apron’s edge. Lifting the skirt, Kat takes a look for another and, sure enough, the always ready FAWN crew stashed at least one more replacement. Michalka slides it out from under, leans the head against the ring, lifts and pushes it through.
With Domi having a hell of a time squirming free of her sandwiched position, Katya takes a moment to get a little cavorting in with the lucky denizens of the front row then surges to the ring and slides in, popping to her feet, seemingly energized by her new match life.
Passing on picking up the newly inserted ladder, Kat moves to the leaning version. She lifts the top portion at Domi’s back, but it’s not a generous gesture to free the Mite. Instead, when Domi starts to slip out, she SLAMS it back down across the rear of Daly’s neck and right shoulder. Daly howls in pain from the guillotine-like use. She’s out far enough to tumble free and land in a jumbled heap, rubbing at the back of her neck and cursing a blue streak, not much of it under her breath.
For her part, Katya is fast at work, clearing the wreckage of the Mite’s initial attempt, folding Domi’s dented device and stacking it in a corner. She kicks her still horizontal ladder to the side and moves to the champion instead. Grabbing Daly’s noggin with both hands, she tugs the doubled grappler to her feet. Showing her own brand of athleticism, Domi having bragged about her own relentlessly in pre-match promos, Katya hops onto the lowered back of the champion and locks herself in place with a scissors. Throwing her bodyweight to the right, the Party Girl RIPS Domi off her feet with her Rave Bomb Remix and PLANTS the back of Daly’s skull into the canvas.
Rave Bomb Remix (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XWw-_BO-kLI )
Katya ends with the champ splayed between her extended legs, the muscular ass cheeks of the former gymnast staring her in the face. She places her legs atop the shoulders of the demolished Domi before realizing the pin will no longer do her any good.
The Upstart tosses the crumpled Daly away, letting the ponytailed brunette spill to her side. Rising slowly but steadily, Kat surveys to the roar of the crowd and decides now is the time to garner her first championship belt. After rolling the destroyed Domi out of the way with a shove of her boot, Katya plucks “her” ladder off the deck and stacks it vertically. Carefully, the Upstart spreads the legs and locks them in place with the ladder directly below the dangling belt.
Warily she starts up, shooting a glance up at the gold after her first couple steps then down at a stirring Daly. She climbs to steps three and four, now several feet off the canvas and Domi is rousing, even up to one knee. Apparently determining she doesn’t have time to grab the gold before Daly would interrupt, she poises on her current step, grabs the frame of the ladder and launches, legs extended. Whatever Kat had in mind would remain in the imagination of the crowd, as Daly is able to reach her feet, catch the plummeting Katya on her shoulders and POWERBOMB her foe into the thinly-sheathed plywood.
Domi, on her knees in front of the ruined Party Girl, leans forward, folding Kat in a crushed matchbook below her. If pins counted, Daly would have won with ease, the seconds accruing to over a half dozen before Katya unfolds from beneath. A temporarily spent Daly seems to hope the longer she holds Michalka’s shoulders to the mat the more there’s a chance the powers that be will return the rules to include a pinfall win. It’s not to be.
Realizing this, the Pac Rim beauty pushes to her feet and tugs her ponytail tight, ready for the stretch dive to reclaim her title. Deciding the shifting Kat needs another dose of ‘stay down’ delivered from a REAL athlete, Daly leaps above the splayed Michalka and drops her extended right leg across the throat of Katya. The unique ‘splits version’ of the legdrop Domi employs has the Rave Queen shuddering and gagging. The Ukrainian pushes Domi’s leg off and rolls away, choking and gasping.
Dominique takes that as her cue and she pops to a handstand, ‘walks’ to the ladder, and tips to her feet, landing right-side-up at its base. Spreading her arms high and wide, she bows to the jeering of the FAWNatics.
Up she starts, deliberately, not wanting to make a mistake this late in the process. The spandex-sheathed Mite is halfway to her goal when the Rave Queen makes her knees. Redfaced and still having trouble getting air through her injured windpipe, Kat is nevertheless appropriately motivated by the sight in front of her. Pushing up, she reaches the side of the ladder’s base with Dominique three-quarters of the way to her prize. Pressing a palm into either riser, Kat shoves forward and the ladder tilts to its side before falling in that direction.
Domi rides it down from a couple steps short of her goal, one abbreviated sinewy stem ending on either side of the top rope, her crotch CRASHING into the rubber-coated steel of the uppermost cable. The FAWNatics groan in momentary sympathy for the silent, anguish-filled Daly, her features twisted in pain as she straddles the invading rope. Katya approaches and Domi pleads with the Upstart not to make her sticky situation any worse, the throbbing from her privates, welling her eyes. Kat obliges in her own way, eschewing grabbing the top rope and sending it deeper between her thighs, but leaping to an enziguri kick to Domi’s temple that spills her off the rope. Daly dumps to the deck, managing to remain on the apron, hands thrust deep into her aching crotch.
Michalka gazes at the overturned ladder, then down at the champion and the Upstart gets a mischievous grin. Dropping to a crouch, she grabs both wrists of the former gymnast and tugs Domi in under the bottom rope.
“We never did get to party together,” Katya chuckles, “at least at my house.”
The Ukrainian drags Domi to the nearest corner and sits her limply against the buckles, lower limbs extended. Kat kicks them a bit wider and retreats to the opposite buckles. Turning, she races toward the seated Daly, coming up short to deliver a kick to Domi’s chest. Getting jiggy between and clapping with the series of kicks that follow, Katya invites the entire audience to her House Party and they joyfully join in with their claps.
After a half-dozen kicks, Katya pirouettes and drops to her splits, sending a boot CRASHING into Domi’s already aching undercarriage. Daly’s almond-shaped eyes roll white as the pain drops her jaw, hands again flying to her privates. The Upstart pops to her feet, a twinge of guilt crossing her face before being lost in a beaming smile, while the Mite curls into a fetal ball.
House Party (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f0Nhu5yNXwU )
An excited anxiety grabs hold of the crowd as Katya moves from Dominique to the leaning ladder. The raven-haired grappler pushes the device up and off the top rope, straightening it under the coveted prize. Michalka tests the ladder, making sure it’s solid, before moving to the steps on the left side to ascend and take home her trophy.
The match is showing its wear on the Party Girl. Kat treads carefully up each step, so much so a murmur in the FAWNatics grows along with their concern. The organization’s self-proclaimed ‘greatest athlete’ emerges from her shell and struggles knock-kneed to the opposite side of the ladder. She begins her climb a couple rungs behind the challenger and the race is on. Kat reaches the top, her lead still in place and reaches for the lightweight gold. Her hand brushes against the gold and leather and sets it swinging.
Katya grabs for it again when it shifts back toward her. She manages to coral the belt and stop it from its swaying, then reaches a second hand to unhook the ultimate sub-125 accessory. But as she reaches the second hand up, Domi delivers a balled set of digits to the Upstart’s jaw that rocks the challenger and nearly sends her tumbling to the canvas far below.
Forced to bring her hands down in defense and away from the lightweight treasure, Katya blocks Daly’s next effort and delivers a right forearm to Dominique’s chest. Domi’s left hand grasps the top of the ladder while her right arm pinwheels to keep her in place. The fans will the Mite to fall but there’s no such luck for the Upstart Army. Instead, Domi regains her balance and laces her fingers with those of the Rave Queen in an elevated test of strength. The woman grapple for what little leverage can be found, swinging from side to side on their collective perch until the ladder starts to wobble with them.
With balance becoming a precious commodity for both, the duo bear down, seemingly barely noticing the knife-edge they’re on until it’s too late and both fly off the ladder, still locked. They SLAM to the canvas as one, landing on shoulders, the impact finally breaking their clenched, laced fingers. Mite and Upstart roll slowly away from one another, trying to judge their condition from and after the fateful fall.
The FAWNatics rhythmically clap as the women fight fatigue and their growing list of aches and pains to reach vertical and it’s the Party Girl from Kiev who answers the call a second before the former gymnast from the Pacific Northwest of Portland.
Katya approaches from Domi’s six and settles beside her, wrapping an arm around her foe’s midriff. She slips her head under the champ’s limp near arm and LAUNCHES the wide-eyed Daly HIGH into the air. Level with Kat’s shoulders and parallel to the canvas, Domi is sent in the opposite direction, but not back down to her feet. The Rave Queen adds a little more ‘oomph’ and SPLATTERS Daly into the deck face and chest-first with her signature Sugar Rush.
Sugar Rush (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PFpQaOEcnZk )
The wrecked Mite bounces over to her back from the brutal force of the impact and ends in a spreadeagle, but the Upstart knows there’s still the dangerous ascension to navigate. On hands and knees, she leaves what’s left of the titleholder and crawls to the base of the ladder. Katya uses the steel to get to her feet, not an easy task at this point. The ladder was shifted during the fighters’ fall and Michalka is forced to reposition her path to glory so she can reach the gold. Once in place, she casts a wary glance over a shoulder and begins heading up.
Michalka shakes out some lingering cobwebs and climbs. The ladder, a bit bent out of shape, wobbles slightly, but the raven-haired wrestler proceeds up to bring the gold back under Upstart control.
Stirring below her is the ever obstinate Mite, recovering from the ‘Sugar’ high. On hands and knees, she rattles her brain and pushes wearily to her bare tootsies. Noticing Katya halfway up, she puts aside the bumps, bruises and haziness and staggers to the ladder. Forgoing heading to the opposite side for a race, knowing Kat would beat her, Daly trails up the same side and, as Katya gets to the height necessary to make her grab for the gold, Domi latches onto an ankle of the challenger.
As Dominique tugs, trying to bring Michalka down, the Upstart tries to shake Daly off and kick her to the canvas curb. Both are unable to manage, but Domi keeps ascending in the process, giving up her grip in stages, moving from an ankle to wrapping her arms around Katya’s waist as she moves one step below. With the ladder tottering, the former gymnast reaches and perilously shares the same step.
To the incredulity and dismay of the crowd, Daly leaps from her station, changing her grip to around Katya’s throat. Fully committed, the champ wrestles the Upstart free of the ladder and together they fall the long distance to the deck with her supercharged Mitey Crash. Both women BANG into the mat, the ring rattling from the impact and, while Dominique isn’t without damage, she controls Katya’s impact point to deliver maximum cost.
Mitey Crash (from midway up the ladder) (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vOYLrSI0K7U )
As a wincing Domi sits up with a weary grin next to a splayed, semiconscious Kat, the crowd is silenced for a moment before a ‘Holy…Shit’ chant gains momentum and soon reverberates through the arena bowl. Daly pushes to her feet and moves to the ladder. She turns and starts climbing with her back to the steps. It slows her progress but gives her the advantage of never losing track of the demolished Katya.
Reaching one step from the top without so much as a shudder from the destroyed Party Girl, a delighted Domi turns to face the ladder and take a glance up at the gold, a little more than an arm’s length away. But instead of rising the step that would put her within reach, she SKIES off the ladder, backflipping into a soaring moonsault with likely double the air she gets from the top buckle. The self-proclaimed ultra-athlete proves it true on this incredible occasion, absolutely STICKING her dismount, both feet nearly plunging THROUGH Katya’s tummy.
The Party Girl folds in an agonized jackknife around the most ‘sticky’ dismount ever, Domi not bothering with the follow-up mini splash that usually concluded her finisher. Instead, she steps off Katya’s broken frame as it settles flat then dramatically wipes her feet behind her, leaving the Upstart in her mock dust.
Daly strides leisurely to the ladder and climbs without a care in the world as the crowd boos her relentlessly. She reaches the top then straddles it, allowing her to sit as she unhooks the belt and cradles it lovingly.
The official immediately calls for the bell and the announcer’s voice rises over the jeers.
“Your winner…and STILL FAWN Lightweight Champion…Dominique Daly!”
The Mighty Mite lifts the belt overhead with both hands having survived the Upstart as much as beaten her. She gazes down at Katya’s carcass, still unmoving, and nods knowingly, bringing the gold faceplate in for a smooch.
“Best athlete…best champion,” she screams after the kiss.
There might have been an urge to descend and give the Upstart an embarrassing ‘after-party’, but with Janel likely in the hospital and Bunny no doubt ready to pop out of some rabbit hole, Daly decides celebrating on the world’s highest throne will be sufficient tonight.
Cooper would be demolished even more thoroughly than her fellow Upstart soon enough.