Post by hawkeye on Dec 7, 2017 0:54:31 GMT
All Hallows’ Evil meant many things to many people, but most of all it meant the most unusual sets of matches of the year. The night’s next fight would be the perfect example and would bring together FAWN’s most beloved grappler with the fans’ former favorite.
Being years removed from FAWN sainthood had not eliminated the memory of FAWN’s first “girl scout” and the gimmick behind AHE’s next tour de force played upon past and present to create a the world’s craziest scout jamboree.
The platinum blonde bob of FAWN’s foremost traitor and troll pops in and out of a three-woman clinch with Demetria Andrews and Jasmine Washington backstage as the FAWNatics test their lung power when Iggy and Charlie belt Hot&Bothered’s anthem throughout the arena.
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O-zpOMYRi0w )
‘Fancy’ blares over the speakers as the one and, thank god, only ignominious Iowan is called to action. The FAWN original shares a final hug with J-Dogg, pushes through the curtain, and strides to the middle of the stage, looking lonesome without the posse that had accompanied her throughout the most recent chapter in her long career.
Kylie has her ever present Louis Vuitton clutch in hand, but gone is her standard wardrobe. Instead, a skimpy, black and gold, two-piece girl scout uniform covers limited areas of the Hawkeye, the plaid skirt barely reaching below her pert little backside. Over her right shoulder and trailing to her left hip is a black and gold sash, empty of any patches. Below, Sanders wears black tennies over yellow-gold ankle socks.
KYLIE SANDERS
Kylie’s gear:
Behind, on the FAWNtron, ‘‘VANILLA CHILL IN DA HOUSE BYTCHES!’ appears in ten-foot high, gold letters.
Chill shakes her head in disgust at the Orlando lowlifes that once made up her Corps and now jeer, chant “TROLL”, or wolf whistle at her in her AHE wardrobe. Ky heads down the ramp and aisle, pointing and talking shyt, looking for the nearest lens to complain about the theme of tonight’s match.
“I was NEVER a girl scout, Christian. And I sure as hell ain’t one now!”
Reaching the squared circle, the elfin blonde turns a stern gaze to the multitudes heaping their disdain upon her and tossing less than complimentary remarks at the turncoat.
The FAWN original scowls, her cupid’s arrow lips curling. She rises up the steps and enters the ring that had made her famous and infamous through close to a decade and a half. The ring announcer picks up his cue as Kylie moves to a FAWN attendant to grab her own stick.
“Tonight’s next match is one fall with a 20-minute time limit and is FAWN’s first GIRL SCOUT MATCH. From da space where Da Man ain’t got no place…standing five feet four inches tall and weighing in at 112 pounds, our first scout…Vanilla Chill…Kylie Sanders!”
Kylie waves at the crowd to shut the hell up. They only turn up the volume.
“You all consider Fields my replacement?” Kylie shouts. The crowd responds in a loud positive voice.
“Bytch couldn’t tie my shoes, even with Da Man making the rabbit ears. She’s a cheap knock-off. A giggling ditz. A…”
Sanders is cut off by the sound of Avril Lavigne’s ‘What the Hell’ ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=tQmEd_UeeIk&feature=player_embedded ).
While Kylie is apoplectic, her microphone cut off, the platinum blonde taking it out on the striped-shirt arbiter, the crowd explodes with the imminent arrival of the dimpled cutie whose loyal fan following has few rivals. The FAWNatics hop to the infectious pop beat and crane their necks toward the stage to gather an eyeful of the bubbly brunette.
The tawny wisp of a woman; big dark doe eyes, recently darkened mane pulled in a ponytail and cherubic girlish features, bounces to center stage. Noticeably absent is her recently lost lightweight title belt. Also on the missing list is her bestest buddy, Straw Beary. While Strawberry glows, there’s a rough determination. Fields sprints down the ramp, passing on her usual interplay with the crowd.
Perhaps guessing he has little time to get his introduction in , the announcer quickly blurts out “And her opponent… from Boca Raton, Florida…standing 5 feet 2 inches and weighing in at 109 pounds…CHLOE…STRAWBERRY…FIELDS.”
CHLOE FIELDS
As with Kylie, Chloe’s garb is altered significantly. She wears her own girl scout gear, the colors a more traditional green and white, sash included, white knee socks leading up from white sneakers.
Chloe’s gear:
Fields slides in under the bottom rope and Chloe hops to her feet, ready for an attack from the Corps-less Kylie that never comes.
“You don’t deserve to wear that uniform. Even in black,” Fields complains. “And I’m gonna make sure these people know what a good scout can do.”
Castle intercedes, taking the stick from Sanders before she can return verbal fire.
“Ladies. I need to make you sure you are aware of tonight’s rules. As you can see, standing by the announcer’s table, there is a corkboard with numerous scout badges. Let’s just say they are more FAWN-related tonight, so no building fires or the like, please.
“You’ve been made aware of certain circumstances that will earn you a badge. Once earned, you can remove the badge from the board and place it on your sash. The woman who gathers four badges first will be declared the winner.”
While Chloe bubbles with excitement, the veteran Sanders throws the eye roll of eye rolls.
“Da freakin’ Man is off his damn rocker,” she mumbles.
Nick tosses the microphone to a flunky on the arena floor and waves for the bell, the ivory-skinned Iowan and the tawny, ponytailed brunette from Boca, circling out of their corners, finally coming together in a collar-and-elbow dead center.
Lithe, lean bodies slap together, black sash rubbing against green as Fields and Sanders go chest to chest. Their arms go wide, still connected with laced fingers. Little biceps and triceps strain and the limbs shudder as each lightweight tries to gain control. Both women show the strain after a half-dozen seconds of stalemate.
The platinum bob of the FAWN veteran swings forward as Kylie tries to headbutt the bridge of the Upstart’s nose and the dimpled grappler avoids it, shifting her noggin to the side to avoid the attack. Pumping her stems, Chloe gets Kylie moving in a backpedal, slowly the first couple steps then progressively more rapidly, until the back of Vanilla Chill thumps into the buckles, drawing a breathy ‘oof’ from Sanders.
Kylie strains against the pressing frame of Strawberry but can’t roust her and the most infamous traitor in the organization’s history is left to demand the ref get her off. Nick Castle does indeed intercede on the blonde’s behalf, asking Fields calmly to break and back away. Chloe beams and unlaces her fingers from Ky. She backs away carefully and courteously, lifting her hands high.
A furious Kylie kicks the bottom ropes, trying her best to convince fans in the front row Strawberry pulled her boy-cut silvery strands, apparently unconvincingly from the chants of “TROLL…TROLL…TROLL!”
As Kylie screams at the crowd to shut their collective piehole, an excited Fields slips through the rubber-coated steel of the cables and drops to the floor. She strides to a corkboard bigger than the brunette leaned against the announcer’s table. There she removes one of the badges from the dozen pinned to the makeshift wall.
“What the hell is she doing? And why the hell aren’t you counting?” Kylie shouts at Castle.
“Sorry Kylie. She AND YOU get a free ten seconds to go get your badges when you’ve earned them.”
“And what the fuck kind of badge could she have already earned? Da Man’s #1 slut?”
“I believe she’s putting on the ‘Good Sportsmanship’ badge.”
“The god damn what?” an incredulous Sanders asks.
As Chloe makes her way to the apron’s edge, slides through and hops to her feet, she has an insignia that looks like two hands clasping. Nick motions to the announcer and he makes Chloe’s initial collection an official one, Castle agreeing the clean break has earned the Upstart the first badge of the night.
“One down. Three to go,” Chloe giggles.
Incredulous, Kylie’s hazel eyes are bugging. “Ya…ya…you’ve got to be kidding? A clean break puts her in the lead. That ditz is in the lead?”
“Looks like I’m smarter than you,” Fields taunts gleefully.
A steaming Kylie spins with a clothesline ready to smack against Chloe’s collarbone, but Fields deftly ducks underneath. She cinches a bearhug in from behind after Sanders’ swing-and-miss. And before Kylie can think to counter, the beloved brunette lifts Kylie high off the canvas with her waistlock. She PLANTS the platinum blonde’s undercarriage on bended knee with a reverse Atomic Drop, the impact of which forces Ky to hop high into the air, hands tight to her tailbone.
The crowd delights in watching Sanders waddling around the canvas massaging her behind. She returns in an arc to the waiting Upstart who shoots her right foot off the canvas and DECKS the FAWN original with a lightning-fast superkick that lays Sanders out flat and momentarily motionless.
Strawberry dives atop the splayed blonde in a lateral press, hooking a leg for the…
ONE…
TWO…
Sanders kicks free.
Castle rushes to remind the doe-eyed grappler the pin won’t get her a win.
“I know,” Chloe responds, sitting on her haunches next to a stirring Ky, who rolls to her chest and starts to push up. “But it’ll get me that ‘Pinfall’ badge over there.”
Realizing Chloe is no dummy, Nick nods knowingly and backs away, motioning to the Upstart she can take up the fight at her pace. Fields does just that, wrapping up Sanders’ noggin in her hands and yanking the Hawkeye to wobbly feet, pulling her foe into a tight side headlock and wrenching away on Kylie’s braincase.
Sanders gets her palms up on either hip of the former redhead and shoves Fields off her. Strawberry uses the provided momentum and races to the ropes in front of her while Ky shakes out some cobwebs, her hazel eyes blinking wide as she struggles back to full coherence.
It’s a race between the original Girl Scout of FAWN and the woman many considered her replacement, the woman who’d received the broken hearts of the Kylie Corps and had renewed them in her own dimpled image. Chloe wins it, flying in and wrapping her left arm around the throat of the platinum blonde. The Upstart spins around the back of the rubbery-legged Kylie and RIPS her foe down with her right arm, PLANTING Sanders with a Slingblade.
Slingblade (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wagn6n8SSZg )
The crowd explodes with excitement with as the back of the Pleasant Valley Pariah’s head thumps against the thinly-covered plywood. A gobsmacked Kylie, eyes glassy and jaw slack bounces up to a seated position and a kneeling Chloe knocks her back to horizontal with a jawjacking forearm.
Chloe spreads her body atop the alabaster-skinned FAWN original, youth having its way emphatically for the…
ONE…
TWO…
Kylie’s frame spasms enough to send Fields off and she gets a shoulder off the canvas. Limply, the elfin blonde rolls to her side, mumbling to herself. A grinning Chloe, on all fours next to her foe, tousles Kylie’s silvery pixie cut with a giggle.
“You’re lucky there isn’t a badge for near-falls, meanie,” she snickers.
Chloe pops to her feet, the brunette from Boca looking fresh as a daisy while Kylie, who slowly presses to her knees, looks all the while a woman who had taken well over a decade of bumps and bruises. The Black Scout absently adjusts her empty sash, her eyes slowly focusing as she tries to find Fields. It’s the Upstart who finds her however.
Dropping her palms to the canvas, it first looks like Chloe is going cartwheel by the blasted blonde, but half way through, Strawberry drops her sinewy stems atop Kylie’s shoulders and clamps down on a scissors of Sanders’ noggin. A split-second later, Chloe barrel rolls forward and SPIKES the crown of Kylie’s skull into the canvas with a Headscissors takedown.
Headscissors takedown (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QmQ3Dep158U )
Determined to get a second badge on her sash, Chloe dives atop the splattered Ky and holds her shoulders down for…
ONE…
TWO…
THREE.
Fields hops to her feet, giddy. She starts to walk toward the side of the ring closest to the announcer’s table when Castle clears his throat.
“Chloe,” he says, pointing his right index finger at Kylie’s right leg, the limb draped over the bottom rope.
Nick shows off two fingers and Chloe’s nose crinkles in frustration.
“AWWW,” she snorts. “No fair.”
It’s about as big a protest as the ref can remember from the sweet Strawberry. While Castle assures the dimpled beauty she’ll need to do more or go for a different badge, Kylie bails, rolling out under the bottom rope and plopping to her backside on the cement floor. She seems to call for Jasmine, momentarily forgetting she’s on her own tonight.
When no one returns her call, she lifts the skirt of the apron. An impatient Chloe slips through the strands and drops to the floor next to her foe as Sanders sneaks half way underneath.
“No escaping, meanie. You’re not getting that ‘sneaky sneak’ badge.”
Grabbing Kylie’s left wrist, she tugs the Hawkeye out from under, but Sanders has some folded metal in her opposite hand. Shaking off Chloe’s grip, she takes the steel chair with both sets of digits and uses the top as a rounded spear she ‘stabs’ into the tawny abdomen of Strawberry. Fields’ doe eyes bulge, a large exhale bursting from between her lips as she’s impaled.
Not knowing if there’s a ‘DQ’ badge and not wanting to hand it to Kylie if there is, Castle keeps his powder dry and starts his count instead, which seems to suit a groaning Sanders as she manages to push up to something approaching vertical and slam the ‘meat’ of the metal across the bent Chloe’s lowered back. The chair lands with a sickening ‘THWAP’ and the millennial Scout is dropped to her knees, spine arching in pain.
As Castle’s count grows past ‘FIVE’, Kylie passes on another swat and instead starts to walk toward the board. Nick realizes he has to put his counting on hiatus and watches intently as a wincing Kylie staggers to the cork where she removes a badge. Pinning it to her sash, she returns, showing off a little felt AK-47, the ‘weapons’ badge properly affixed.
Castle has no choice but to motion the match is now tied at ONE whereas moments before it appeared the Upstart was well on her way to a commanding two badges to zip lead.
Perhaps thinking there’s also a ‘weapons first class’ badge, Kylie leans down next to the now kneeling Chloe and wraps her sash around the throat of the Upstart, throttling the brunette mercilessly, the crowd jeering and complaining.
With Fields’ face turning rosy, Castle threatens an ejection and a sweat-soaked Sanders finally pays him heed. Ky unwraps her sash and moves back into place then sinks her talons into Strawberry’s scalp.
Kylie tosses the Upstart in under the bottom rope and, saving some energy, the veteran takes the long way, moving to the ring steps and slowly ascending them. She slips back in to join her target, walking toward a rising Chloe before spinning on a dime and heading for the nearest corner. Wearily she climbs the buckles, the heights not a particularly friendly place for the platinum blonde. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to realize Vanilla Chill is after another reward. She reaches the middle ropes, Sanders facing the roaring crowd. The Iowan is confused about the FAWNatics’ enthusiasm until she feels Chloe’s right arm scoop between her legs.
The Upstart plucks Kylie off the corner, dropping the upturned Sanders across her shoulders in not only a fireman’s carry, but a Torture Rack version. Fields marches around the ring, bending Kylie’s spine more by the second, Sanders’ vertebrae bent in an arch around Chloe’s neck, Strawberry pulling downward on either side, her arm wrapping around Kylie’s legs and neck.
“Whaddya say, Kylie?” Nick shouts. “Lemme know.”
“FAHHHK YOU,” Sanders wails, Chloe giving her foe another nasty shake before finally deciding she can hold on no longer. But the Upstart doesn’t just drop FAWN’s Benedict Arnold. Instead, she BURIES Kylie into the deck chest and face-first with a reverse Samoan Drop that leaves the blonde splayed face down and unmoving.
Moving with a sense of purpose, Chloe passes on a pin and races to the nearest buckles, leaping to the top with the greatest of ease and turning to face a moaning Ky, who rolls to her back, one hand grasping at her aching lower spine.
In the flash of Kylie’s hazel eyes, Chloe launches from her perch and skies over the mat-bound Sanders. She closes into a tight tuck at her zenith but doesn’t open up for a splash. Instead, she drops in her Strawberry Cannonball into the taut and quickly demolished abs of Chill. Chloe’s signature has Kylie retching, a seizure shaking her body as the blonde’s been blown up.
But again, Chloe doesn’t go for the pin. Instead, she scurries to the ring’s edge and baseball slides out. She sprints to the ‘badge board’ and plucks one off, quickly pinning it to her olive-colored sash. Racing back, she hops to the apron and springboards in, showing the new insignia to Castle who confirms the little felt ‘helicopter’ is indeed the ‘airborne feats’ badge.
With her second emblem in place, Strawberry doesn’t waste an instant in going for a veritable double-play, immediately heading for the same set of buckles from which she’d recently flown. Sure, she didn’t have Straw Beary with her to augment her Frog Splash to the ultra-hardcore Bear Splash, but if she could hit a froggie and pick up the pin, she’d have a stranglehold 3-1 lead.
With the crowd catching on and roaring in appreciation, Chloe occupies the penthouse again and launches like a dark-haired rocket. She scrapes the rafters above the splattered Chill, tucking then untucking as she plummets toward the open ivory skin of Kylie’s tummy until the stubborn veteran shows her mettle, lifting her knees and GUTTING the bronzed belly of the Upstart.
Chloe rolls away from the fateful impact, swaddling her midriff with both arms as she rolls from side to side gasping. A few feet away, Kylie’s little better, the pace of the fight taking its toll on the long-time trooper. The platinum blonde rolls up to all fours and crawls toward her so-called replacement, evil intent in her eyes. As she closes the gap, a likewise stalwart Strawberry ignores her lack of breath as best she can and rises to her knees, the two lightweights crashing together in a low-rise double bearhug.
Each set of arms wrap around the respective midsection of each grappler and cinch tight, bosoms mushrooming together, nosetips brushing, hearts pounding against each other, each determined but each weakening, drenched in perspiration.
Slowly but noticeably, Kylie’s arms loosen. As they do, Chloe’s seem to cinch tighter. She gives a squeeze hard enough to dig her dimples deeper. The blonde’s arms trail limply down over the brunette’s hips until Ky’s arms drape at her sides, the Hawkeye’s face etched in pain as the Upstart continues to bring the fire to melt Chill. The traitor sinks to her haunches, Kylie becoming more slack by the second as Strawberry’s perfect pearlies grit from her effort. Finally, Kylie’s chin slumps to her chest as Fields drains the remainder from the former fan favorite.
Releasing her Beary Hug, a dominant Fields rises to her feet and hovers over the limp Sanders. She raises an arm high, celebrating with the delighted crowd until a platinum-bobbed possum swings to life, sweeping a vicious forearm up between Chloe’s thighs, rocking the Upstart’s world with a brutal crotch shot that sends the tawny brunette up to tiptoes, Chloe chirping in pain. Fields’ legs ‘turn off’ and she drops to her knocked knees in front of Sanders.
A ragged Kylie pie-faces Chloe to her side then drops flat to the mat herself. Slowly, she rolls out under the bottom rope and drags herself to the ‘badge board’ where she claims a pink felt cat and places it on her sash, winner of the ‘kitty crotch shot’ badge. It’s almost all Ky can manage to make it back to the apron and throw herself back in, so Castle doesn’t force the blonde to officially check in, Nick confirming with a wave that it is now two badges apiece.
With the debilitating throbbing from between Chloe’s legs keeping her slow to rise, eventually it’s Sanders who answers the call and staggers to her feet. Vanilla Chill leans heavily against the ropes and takes in Fields’ struggle to get to her feet. When the former redhead reaches a wobbly seated position, the Hawkeye pushes away from the cables and races to her foe, lifting a knee and ‘thunking’ it into the Upstart’s forehead.
Fields is flattened by the blow. After Ky skids to a halt, nearly tumbling over, she strides back to the former Cirque de Soleil performer and leaps. The traitorous troll mushroom stomps Chloe’s modest rack under her tennies, the ivory-skinned grappler then grinding her soles into the spandex covering the tender tissue. The scrubbing draws yelps from Strawberry as she weakly tries to shove Kylie off but is unable to move her rival.
Sanders continues to use Chloe as a welcome mat until Fields manages to upset the ‘apple cart’ with a twist and send Sanders stumbling off. As Kylie regains her balance, Chloe rolls to her chest to protect her aching orbs and begins to push up to all fours until a vicious stomp between her shoulderblades sends the Upstart down, banging into the canvas on her face and chest.
Dropping into a crouching straddle of her foe, Kylie wraps her arms under and around those of Fields. The Hawkeye laces her fingers to secure a full nelson then hauls back on her grip in a modified version of a camel clutch.
Kylie soon has Chloe’s dimples directed toward the rafters, the brunette’s chest flung forward, back arched in agony. Sanders bounces her cheeks on Chloe’s and demands Castle ask if she wants to give in, knowing very well a patch awaits the woman who could make her opponent say ‘uncle’.
With a soft grunt ‘no’, Chloe convinces Nick no reward will be sash-bound in the near future and a growling Chill gives Chloe’s head a nasty shake from side to side with her nelson grip before finally throwing Fields’ face into the deck in frustration, the chance to take her first lead in the match denied.
Partially dismounting the tenderized Upstart for a moment, Kylie spins in her standing straddle to face down the frame of her foe. Ky drops to her haunches across Chloe’s lower spine and lifts her right arm high, clenching her fingers.
“FARM…HAND,” some of the more Pavolvian of Kylie’s Corps respond.
They may feel guilty about the chant but they’re exactly right as Sanders digs a claw into the muscle of Chloe’s left hammy, right where it connects with the dimpled one’s gluteus. The former fan favorite DIGS her digits deep into the flesh, crushing a nerve bundle with her clamp and drawing a howl of protest from the teary-eyed Upstart.
“STAHHHP,” Chloe cries.
“What’s that?” Kylie shouts over her shoulder. “That’s close to the magic word, but it’s not quite there.”
Castle seems to agree, asking Fields point blank if she wants to quit and give the Black Scout her third badge of the evening. Chloe bites her lower lip and shakes her head, stubborn as an erstwhile Pleasant Valley Princess.
Ky digs in deeper with her Farm Hand, pressing her left down atop her right to claw further into the muscle with her hammy clamp.
“GIVE UP DAMN IT!” Sanders insists. But the recent lightweight champ won’t give the blonde her satisfaction.
A frustrated, redfaced Kylie surrenders before Fields, removing her clawhold and walking to Fields’ ankles. Grabbing them, she spins Chloe to her back then drops to her knees next to the brunette while keeping control of her foe’s left leg.
Wrapping the pit of Chloe’s left knee around the back of her neck, the platinum bob of Sanders peeking out the top, Ky spins to perpendicular with her foe then reefs back with Fields’ leg while pressing one of her tennis shoes into the side of Chloe’s face.
Her ‘Chill Out’ stretch muffler secured, Kylie keeps the pressure on both ends increasing it for a half-dozen seconds until Chloe can take no more and wildly taps on the canvas.
Chill Out (Stretch Muffler) - www.youtube.com/watch?v=NVtOcOoAjCA
The growling Hawkeye keeps her new finisher in place for fun and it takes physical action from Castle to separate Kylie from her victim. A sweat-drenched Ky pants heavily as she rests on one knee, Chloe mewling as she works at multiple sore spots and gets used to the idea of being behind.
Not wanting to waste the energy it would take to stand, Chill crawls to the ropes, drops and rolls under. She lands unsteadily on her feet and walks wearily to the ‘badge board’ where she collects what looks to be the felt face of a weeping pig, perhaps a squealing one. Having pinned the ‘submission’ badge in place, the silvery blonde wipes her brow then raises her hands high as Nick motions it’s now three to two in favor of the FAWN original.
But Kylie isn’t satisfied with simply applying her new insignia and returning. Instead, she picks up the entire door-sized corkboard and carries into the mat’s edge. Spent by the effort involved, Sanders leans it against the apron and takes some deep breaths. Finally, the elfin blonde gathers up the board, turns it horizontal and slides the entire edifice into the squared circle. The Pleasant Valley Pariah huffs in a few more inhales before rejoining the badges and her fellow Girl Scout.
With Chloe up to one knee as she approaches, Kylie reaches to collect Fields by the braincase and tug her up. But the Upstart explodes out of her genuflection and drives a balled fist of an uppercut into the alabaster abdomen of Vanilla Chill. Kylie ‘guuuufs’ as she scoots backward, doubling over. Chloe, still on one knee, loads up another and cracks into Kylie’s chin, nearly knocking the Hawkeye over. Sanders’ arms pinwheel as she fights to maintain verticality. Ky comes back with a clubbing blow to the back of the Upstart’s skull that ends the uprising.
Grabbing Chloe by a wrist and the scruff of her neck, Sanders bullies Fields to a corner and aims her toward the opposite buckles. Ky Irish Whips the brunette on her way and the Upstart is sent zooming across the canvas, turning into a blistering impact, her diminutive frame rocked by the collision.
The Hawkeye hangs to see if Chloe can remain vertical and when she does, Kylie takes off like she’s shot from a cannon. The platinum blonde sprints to her target, lifting off a few feet out to SPLASH Fields beneath under a Chilly avalanche. But Chloe counters. Leaning back, her shoulders on the top cable, Strawberry sends her legs out in front of her and she meets Kylie’s cans with the soles of her sneakers. Gurls flattened, Kylie staggers away, wobbling back to her starting point.
Only one badge away from superior scouthood, a determined Sanders turns and charges again, unwilling to accept the Upstart has anything left in the tank.
Wrong.
Kylie dashes toward the doe-eyed dimple machine. As she reaches the opposite side, Chloe pushes her way up to a seat on the top buckle and drives her right foot into the Ky’s chin, straightening the elfin blonde. Sanders’ right hand rises to massage her aching jaw.
Her foe backed off a step or two from the impact, Chloe leaps off the middle ropes. She skies over Ky and lands draped down her back, the Upstart’s arms quickly encircling Sanders’ midriff and, from out of god damn nowhere, Chloe PILEDRIVES Kylie’s skull into the canvas with a leaping Fields’ Day.
Leaping version of the Fields’ Day (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pwfoMosNBp8 )
The demolished Kylie backward somersaults out of the impact, likely a divot in the plywood where she hit, and spreads out in an unconscious starfish in front of the dilapidated Upstart.
At the crowd’s insistent urging, the spent Fields crawls to the splattered blonde and drops atop her in a full body pin; pelvis to pelvis; chest to chest; and nose to nose. With the crowd chanting along, Castle slaps the mat for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THREEEE!
There isn’t a hint of movement from beneath and little more from above. The FAWNatics make up for it, jumping to their feet, perhaps momentarily forgetting the match isn’t over. Nearly consumed by the battle, Chloe slides off the blonde wreckage below her and slithers to the ‘badge board’ Ky had conveniently brought into the ring. Pushing to all fours, the ponytailed brunette removes a big pink ‘3’ from the board and affixes it to her sash.
Not only did it mean the ‘pinfall’ badge is hers, but it could have just as easily signified a 3-3 tie between the combatants in the number of badges accrued. Castle makes it official with his wave to the timekeeper.
But the god awful impact of Chloe’s turbocharged Fields’ Day grows in importance when the battered Chloe makes it to her feet and wobbles to the spread-eagled Sanders. She places a white sneaker on Ky’s chest and asks politely but emphatically for the count to start.
Chloe isn’t the only one who’s seen the red ‘KO’ badge still available on the cork and Nick nods that Fields can claim both badges with one wipeout of the annihilated blonde. A ten-count without Kylie reaching her feet would be all it would take to claim the fourth and decisive badge necessary to be proclaimed the REAL Girl Scout and a threat to a variety of belt-wearing grapplers throughout FAWN.
Chloe removes her footwear from Kylie’s chest to start the count and it takes THREE of the TEN for Chill to show she’s even close to defrosting, a shudder shaking her frame though there’s no consciousness in combination.
Castle shoos Fields away between FOUR and FIVE as Kylie’s hazel peepers blink wide and Sanders wobbles to all fours between SIX and SEVEN. Chloe’s doe eyes continue to widen as she watches Kylie reanimate, the former Pleasant Valley Princess calling upon the will that had won many a heart in her younger days. Ky’d never gone down easily even when she went down a lot and that trait remains with nearly every FAWNatic turned against her, hoping she wouldn’t be able to answer the call.
But at NINE and then some, a glassy-eyed Kylie trembles to vertical, still slightly bent over but meeting the requirements to deny Chloe the KO badge that would’ve won the match.
The disappointed Upstart confirms with Castle she cannot affix her match-winning medal and, when he does, Fields focuses on the swaying blonde. She judges Kylie’s position and leaps to the ropes in front of the Hawkeye. Grabbing the top rope with both hands as she lands on the middle, Fields springboards in a u-turn toward Sanders and NAILS her with a roundhouse kick that flattens the traitorous troll to the canvas.
Springboard Shortkick (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aFbcmW6XwJk )
Though a cover might not have been something Kylie could kick out from under, there’s nothing for Chloe to do but decide if the kick will keep her foe down for ten without her on top.
Fields immediately decides it’s not, moving to the set of buckles nearest the splayed Sanders. Quickly rising to the top buckle, Fields turns on her penthouse perch to face the softly stirring Hawkeye, whom she takes aim at between a frame of raised thumbs and index fingers. As the crowd cheers for the coupe de grace, Chloe launches and flips into her signature Strawberry Sundae, a 450-degree elbow drop pointed at Kylie’s black heart that would finish the job.
Strawberry Sundae (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CANNILwi3hc )
But at the last second, the platinum bob of the Black Scout, and the head and body beneath it, roll out of range and the Upstart drives her joint into the deck with incredible force. After the ring-rattling collision, Chloe howls in pain as she cradles her right arm close. A few feet away, Kylie manages a weak smile but little more for long seconds, leading to a race to vertical.
Chloe beats Kylie there and loads a flashing superkick toward the blonde’s chin, but Sanders ducks under the lightning strike. In motion immediately after the miss, Kylie races to the ropes and rebounds toward a turning Chloe. Sanders nearly CUTS HER IN HALF with a ferocious spear that PLOWS the brunette into the mat.
Again, both women remain down long enough to start a count, but Kylie pushes up by FOUR and beats Strawberry to her feet by a tick or two. It allows Sanders to dig a toe kick DEEP into the tawny tummy of the REAL Girl Scout when she rises and, with the dimpled one doubled, Ky grabs her ponytailed locks and rips her to the deck with a sitout facebuster.
Sitout facebuster (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CANNILwi3hc )
The Hawkeye doesn’t even wait for the count to begin. Instead, she rolls out under the ropes and plucks the apron skirt up on a search for tools. She emerges with a pair of chairs and heaves them one after another into the squared circle. The platinum blonde beauty follows behind and, as Chloe fights to beat the count, Sanders sets each chair into place then turns and collects the ‘badge board’. Ominously, she lays it flat between the steel furniture and, with her edifice built, collects Fields.
Kylie bullies the wobbling Chloe around her construction and to the nearby corner where she scoops the Upstart into a fireman’s carry, Chloe hanging limp in her clutches. With the FAWNatics aghast at Sanders’ endeavor, Ky leans her bundle on the top buckle and lifts the soles of her sneakers to the bottom ropes.
Realizing she doesn’t have the strength to go full avalanche on the wannabe by making it to the middle cable, Kylie leaps from her slightly elevated position and sends Chloe CRASHING through the badge board with a turbo-strength Chilly Valley Driver. The board and remaining badges explode and scatter in a shower of debris and beneath it is the demolished Upstart, Fields ending in a motionless starfish.
Chilly Valley Driver (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FtXuTLrg4Ro )
The battered and bruised Kylie finishes in a seated position and stares blankly through Castle’s count to FIVE. Finally, she rises wearily and stands above the wreckage, searching for her fourth and final badge. The elfin blonde plucks it from the rubble as the crowd pleads with the unconscious Chloe to waken them from their bad dream. Alas, there is no response from the dimpled cutie, as Nick counts the Upstart down and out for the full TEN.
He turns to find Kylie’s shit-eating grin, her final badge already in place. Castle’s face flashes sour for a split-second, but he dutifully turns to the ring announcer with his final signal and the announcer makes it official.
“Your winner and the REAL GIRL SCOUT of FAWN by a total of four badges to three. KYLIE SANDERS!”
The crowd groans then jeers at the platinum blonde as she stands in a straddle over the still oblivious Fields, savoring taking down the woman whom the FAWNatics believed they had made the replacement sweetheart of the masses. The truth Kylie knows is she abdicated that worthless title and had become so much more. That truth lay at her feet in the form of the motionless Upstart.
“Keep their love,” Kylie shouts at the insensate Chloe. “Chill gonna keep her dignity.”
Being years removed from FAWN sainthood had not eliminated the memory of FAWN’s first “girl scout” and the gimmick behind AHE’s next tour de force played upon past and present to create a the world’s craziest scout jamboree.
The platinum blonde bob of FAWN’s foremost traitor and troll pops in and out of a three-woman clinch with Demetria Andrews and Jasmine Washington backstage as the FAWNatics test their lung power when Iggy and Charlie belt Hot&Bothered’s anthem throughout the arena.
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O-zpOMYRi0w )
‘Fancy’ blares over the speakers as the one and, thank god, only ignominious Iowan is called to action. The FAWN original shares a final hug with J-Dogg, pushes through the curtain, and strides to the middle of the stage, looking lonesome without the posse that had accompanied her throughout the most recent chapter in her long career.
Kylie has her ever present Louis Vuitton clutch in hand, but gone is her standard wardrobe. Instead, a skimpy, black and gold, two-piece girl scout uniform covers limited areas of the Hawkeye, the plaid skirt barely reaching below her pert little backside. Over her right shoulder and trailing to her left hip is a black and gold sash, empty of any patches. Below, Sanders wears black tennies over yellow-gold ankle socks.
KYLIE SANDERS
Kylie’s gear:
Behind, on the FAWNtron, ‘‘VANILLA CHILL IN DA HOUSE BYTCHES!’ appears in ten-foot high, gold letters.
Chill shakes her head in disgust at the Orlando lowlifes that once made up her Corps and now jeer, chant “TROLL”, or wolf whistle at her in her AHE wardrobe. Ky heads down the ramp and aisle, pointing and talking shyt, looking for the nearest lens to complain about the theme of tonight’s match.
“I was NEVER a girl scout, Christian. And I sure as hell ain’t one now!”
Reaching the squared circle, the elfin blonde turns a stern gaze to the multitudes heaping their disdain upon her and tossing less than complimentary remarks at the turncoat.
The FAWN original scowls, her cupid’s arrow lips curling. She rises up the steps and enters the ring that had made her famous and infamous through close to a decade and a half. The ring announcer picks up his cue as Kylie moves to a FAWN attendant to grab her own stick.
“Tonight’s next match is one fall with a 20-minute time limit and is FAWN’s first GIRL SCOUT MATCH. From da space where Da Man ain’t got no place…standing five feet four inches tall and weighing in at 112 pounds, our first scout…Vanilla Chill…Kylie Sanders!”
Kylie waves at the crowd to shut the hell up. They only turn up the volume.
“You all consider Fields my replacement?” Kylie shouts. The crowd responds in a loud positive voice.
“Bytch couldn’t tie my shoes, even with Da Man making the rabbit ears. She’s a cheap knock-off. A giggling ditz. A…”
Sanders is cut off by the sound of Avril Lavigne’s ‘What the Hell’ ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=tQmEd_UeeIk&feature=player_embedded ).
While Kylie is apoplectic, her microphone cut off, the platinum blonde taking it out on the striped-shirt arbiter, the crowd explodes with the imminent arrival of the dimpled cutie whose loyal fan following has few rivals. The FAWNatics hop to the infectious pop beat and crane their necks toward the stage to gather an eyeful of the bubbly brunette.
The tawny wisp of a woman; big dark doe eyes, recently darkened mane pulled in a ponytail and cherubic girlish features, bounces to center stage. Noticeably absent is her recently lost lightweight title belt. Also on the missing list is her bestest buddy, Straw Beary. While Strawberry glows, there’s a rough determination. Fields sprints down the ramp, passing on her usual interplay with the crowd.
Perhaps guessing he has little time to get his introduction in , the announcer quickly blurts out “And her opponent… from Boca Raton, Florida…standing 5 feet 2 inches and weighing in at 109 pounds…CHLOE…STRAWBERRY…FIELDS.”
CHLOE FIELDS
As with Kylie, Chloe’s garb is altered significantly. She wears her own girl scout gear, the colors a more traditional green and white, sash included, white knee socks leading up from white sneakers.
Chloe’s gear:
Fields slides in under the bottom rope and Chloe hops to her feet, ready for an attack from the Corps-less Kylie that never comes.
“You don’t deserve to wear that uniform. Even in black,” Fields complains. “And I’m gonna make sure these people know what a good scout can do.”
Castle intercedes, taking the stick from Sanders before she can return verbal fire.
“Ladies. I need to make you sure you are aware of tonight’s rules. As you can see, standing by the announcer’s table, there is a corkboard with numerous scout badges. Let’s just say they are more FAWN-related tonight, so no building fires or the like, please.
“You’ve been made aware of certain circumstances that will earn you a badge. Once earned, you can remove the badge from the board and place it on your sash. The woman who gathers four badges first will be declared the winner.”
While Chloe bubbles with excitement, the veteran Sanders throws the eye roll of eye rolls.
“Da freakin’ Man is off his damn rocker,” she mumbles.
Nick tosses the microphone to a flunky on the arena floor and waves for the bell, the ivory-skinned Iowan and the tawny, ponytailed brunette from Boca, circling out of their corners, finally coming together in a collar-and-elbow dead center.
Lithe, lean bodies slap together, black sash rubbing against green as Fields and Sanders go chest to chest. Their arms go wide, still connected with laced fingers. Little biceps and triceps strain and the limbs shudder as each lightweight tries to gain control. Both women show the strain after a half-dozen seconds of stalemate.
The platinum bob of the FAWN veteran swings forward as Kylie tries to headbutt the bridge of the Upstart’s nose and the dimpled grappler avoids it, shifting her noggin to the side to avoid the attack. Pumping her stems, Chloe gets Kylie moving in a backpedal, slowly the first couple steps then progressively more rapidly, until the back of Vanilla Chill thumps into the buckles, drawing a breathy ‘oof’ from Sanders.
Kylie strains against the pressing frame of Strawberry but can’t roust her and the most infamous traitor in the organization’s history is left to demand the ref get her off. Nick Castle does indeed intercede on the blonde’s behalf, asking Fields calmly to break and back away. Chloe beams and unlaces her fingers from Ky. She backs away carefully and courteously, lifting her hands high.
A furious Kylie kicks the bottom ropes, trying her best to convince fans in the front row Strawberry pulled her boy-cut silvery strands, apparently unconvincingly from the chants of “TROLL…TROLL…TROLL!”
As Kylie screams at the crowd to shut their collective piehole, an excited Fields slips through the rubber-coated steel of the cables and drops to the floor. She strides to a corkboard bigger than the brunette leaned against the announcer’s table. There she removes one of the badges from the dozen pinned to the makeshift wall.
“What the hell is she doing? And why the hell aren’t you counting?” Kylie shouts at Castle.
“Sorry Kylie. She AND YOU get a free ten seconds to go get your badges when you’ve earned them.”
“And what the fuck kind of badge could she have already earned? Da Man’s #1 slut?”
“I believe she’s putting on the ‘Good Sportsmanship’ badge.”
“The god damn what?” an incredulous Sanders asks.
As Chloe makes her way to the apron’s edge, slides through and hops to her feet, she has an insignia that looks like two hands clasping. Nick motions to the announcer and he makes Chloe’s initial collection an official one, Castle agreeing the clean break has earned the Upstart the first badge of the night.
“One down. Three to go,” Chloe giggles.
Incredulous, Kylie’s hazel eyes are bugging. “Ya…ya…you’ve got to be kidding? A clean break puts her in the lead. That ditz is in the lead?”
“Looks like I’m smarter than you,” Fields taunts gleefully.
A steaming Kylie spins with a clothesline ready to smack against Chloe’s collarbone, but Fields deftly ducks underneath. She cinches a bearhug in from behind after Sanders’ swing-and-miss. And before Kylie can think to counter, the beloved brunette lifts Kylie high off the canvas with her waistlock. She PLANTS the platinum blonde’s undercarriage on bended knee with a reverse Atomic Drop, the impact of which forces Ky to hop high into the air, hands tight to her tailbone.
The crowd delights in watching Sanders waddling around the canvas massaging her behind. She returns in an arc to the waiting Upstart who shoots her right foot off the canvas and DECKS the FAWN original with a lightning-fast superkick that lays Sanders out flat and momentarily motionless.
Strawberry dives atop the splayed blonde in a lateral press, hooking a leg for the…
ONE…
TWO…
Sanders kicks free.
Castle rushes to remind the doe-eyed grappler the pin won’t get her a win.
“I know,” Chloe responds, sitting on her haunches next to a stirring Ky, who rolls to her chest and starts to push up. “But it’ll get me that ‘Pinfall’ badge over there.”
Realizing Chloe is no dummy, Nick nods knowingly and backs away, motioning to the Upstart she can take up the fight at her pace. Fields does just that, wrapping up Sanders’ noggin in her hands and yanking the Hawkeye to wobbly feet, pulling her foe into a tight side headlock and wrenching away on Kylie’s braincase.
Sanders gets her palms up on either hip of the former redhead and shoves Fields off her. Strawberry uses the provided momentum and races to the ropes in front of her while Ky shakes out some cobwebs, her hazel eyes blinking wide as she struggles back to full coherence.
It’s a race between the original Girl Scout of FAWN and the woman many considered her replacement, the woman who’d received the broken hearts of the Kylie Corps and had renewed them in her own dimpled image. Chloe wins it, flying in and wrapping her left arm around the throat of the platinum blonde. The Upstart spins around the back of the rubbery-legged Kylie and RIPS her foe down with her right arm, PLANTING Sanders with a Slingblade.
Slingblade (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wagn6n8SSZg )
The crowd explodes with excitement with as the back of the Pleasant Valley Pariah’s head thumps against the thinly-covered plywood. A gobsmacked Kylie, eyes glassy and jaw slack bounces up to a seated position and a kneeling Chloe knocks her back to horizontal with a jawjacking forearm.
Chloe spreads her body atop the alabaster-skinned FAWN original, youth having its way emphatically for the…
ONE…
TWO…
Kylie’s frame spasms enough to send Fields off and she gets a shoulder off the canvas. Limply, the elfin blonde rolls to her side, mumbling to herself. A grinning Chloe, on all fours next to her foe, tousles Kylie’s silvery pixie cut with a giggle.
“You’re lucky there isn’t a badge for near-falls, meanie,” she snickers.
Chloe pops to her feet, the brunette from Boca looking fresh as a daisy while Kylie, who slowly presses to her knees, looks all the while a woman who had taken well over a decade of bumps and bruises. The Black Scout absently adjusts her empty sash, her eyes slowly focusing as she tries to find Fields. It’s the Upstart who finds her however.
Dropping her palms to the canvas, it first looks like Chloe is going cartwheel by the blasted blonde, but half way through, Strawberry drops her sinewy stems atop Kylie’s shoulders and clamps down on a scissors of Sanders’ noggin. A split-second later, Chloe barrel rolls forward and SPIKES the crown of Kylie’s skull into the canvas with a Headscissors takedown.
Headscissors takedown (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QmQ3Dep158U )
Determined to get a second badge on her sash, Chloe dives atop the splattered Ky and holds her shoulders down for…
ONE…
TWO…
THREE.
Fields hops to her feet, giddy. She starts to walk toward the side of the ring closest to the announcer’s table when Castle clears his throat.
“Chloe,” he says, pointing his right index finger at Kylie’s right leg, the limb draped over the bottom rope.
Nick shows off two fingers and Chloe’s nose crinkles in frustration.
“AWWW,” she snorts. “No fair.”
It’s about as big a protest as the ref can remember from the sweet Strawberry. While Castle assures the dimpled beauty she’ll need to do more or go for a different badge, Kylie bails, rolling out under the bottom rope and plopping to her backside on the cement floor. She seems to call for Jasmine, momentarily forgetting she’s on her own tonight.
When no one returns her call, she lifts the skirt of the apron. An impatient Chloe slips through the strands and drops to the floor next to her foe as Sanders sneaks half way underneath.
“No escaping, meanie. You’re not getting that ‘sneaky sneak’ badge.”
Grabbing Kylie’s left wrist, she tugs the Hawkeye out from under, but Sanders has some folded metal in her opposite hand. Shaking off Chloe’s grip, she takes the steel chair with both sets of digits and uses the top as a rounded spear she ‘stabs’ into the tawny abdomen of Strawberry. Fields’ doe eyes bulge, a large exhale bursting from between her lips as she’s impaled.
Not knowing if there’s a ‘DQ’ badge and not wanting to hand it to Kylie if there is, Castle keeps his powder dry and starts his count instead, which seems to suit a groaning Sanders as she manages to push up to something approaching vertical and slam the ‘meat’ of the metal across the bent Chloe’s lowered back. The chair lands with a sickening ‘THWAP’ and the millennial Scout is dropped to her knees, spine arching in pain.
As Castle’s count grows past ‘FIVE’, Kylie passes on another swat and instead starts to walk toward the board. Nick realizes he has to put his counting on hiatus and watches intently as a wincing Kylie staggers to the cork where she removes a badge. Pinning it to her sash, she returns, showing off a little felt AK-47, the ‘weapons’ badge properly affixed.
Castle has no choice but to motion the match is now tied at ONE whereas moments before it appeared the Upstart was well on her way to a commanding two badges to zip lead.
Perhaps thinking there’s also a ‘weapons first class’ badge, Kylie leans down next to the now kneeling Chloe and wraps her sash around the throat of the Upstart, throttling the brunette mercilessly, the crowd jeering and complaining.
With Fields’ face turning rosy, Castle threatens an ejection and a sweat-soaked Sanders finally pays him heed. Ky unwraps her sash and moves back into place then sinks her talons into Strawberry’s scalp.
Kylie tosses the Upstart in under the bottom rope and, saving some energy, the veteran takes the long way, moving to the ring steps and slowly ascending them. She slips back in to join her target, walking toward a rising Chloe before spinning on a dime and heading for the nearest corner. Wearily she climbs the buckles, the heights not a particularly friendly place for the platinum blonde. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to realize Vanilla Chill is after another reward. She reaches the middle ropes, Sanders facing the roaring crowd. The Iowan is confused about the FAWNatics’ enthusiasm until she feels Chloe’s right arm scoop between her legs.
The Upstart plucks Kylie off the corner, dropping the upturned Sanders across her shoulders in not only a fireman’s carry, but a Torture Rack version. Fields marches around the ring, bending Kylie’s spine more by the second, Sanders’ vertebrae bent in an arch around Chloe’s neck, Strawberry pulling downward on either side, her arm wrapping around Kylie’s legs and neck.
“Whaddya say, Kylie?” Nick shouts. “Lemme know.”
“FAHHHK YOU,” Sanders wails, Chloe giving her foe another nasty shake before finally deciding she can hold on no longer. But the Upstart doesn’t just drop FAWN’s Benedict Arnold. Instead, she BURIES Kylie into the deck chest and face-first with a reverse Samoan Drop that leaves the blonde splayed face down and unmoving.
Moving with a sense of purpose, Chloe passes on a pin and races to the nearest buckles, leaping to the top with the greatest of ease and turning to face a moaning Ky, who rolls to her back, one hand grasping at her aching lower spine.
In the flash of Kylie’s hazel eyes, Chloe launches from her perch and skies over the mat-bound Sanders. She closes into a tight tuck at her zenith but doesn’t open up for a splash. Instead, she drops in her Strawberry Cannonball into the taut and quickly demolished abs of Chill. Chloe’s signature has Kylie retching, a seizure shaking her body as the blonde’s been blown up.
But again, Chloe doesn’t go for the pin. Instead, she scurries to the ring’s edge and baseball slides out. She sprints to the ‘badge board’ and plucks one off, quickly pinning it to her olive-colored sash. Racing back, she hops to the apron and springboards in, showing the new insignia to Castle who confirms the little felt ‘helicopter’ is indeed the ‘airborne feats’ badge.
With her second emblem in place, Strawberry doesn’t waste an instant in going for a veritable double-play, immediately heading for the same set of buckles from which she’d recently flown. Sure, she didn’t have Straw Beary with her to augment her Frog Splash to the ultra-hardcore Bear Splash, but if she could hit a froggie and pick up the pin, she’d have a stranglehold 3-1 lead.
With the crowd catching on and roaring in appreciation, Chloe occupies the penthouse again and launches like a dark-haired rocket. She scrapes the rafters above the splattered Chill, tucking then untucking as she plummets toward the open ivory skin of Kylie’s tummy until the stubborn veteran shows her mettle, lifting her knees and GUTTING the bronzed belly of the Upstart.
Chloe rolls away from the fateful impact, swaddling her midriff with both arms as she rolls from side to side gasping. A few feet away, Kylie’s little better, the pace of the fight taking its toll on the long-time trooper. The platinum blonde rolls up to all fours and crawls toward her so-called replacement, evil intent in her eyes. As she closes the gap, a likewise stalwart Strawberry ignores her lack of breath as best she can and rises to her knees, the two lightweights crashing together in a low-rise double bearhug.
Each set of arms wrap around the respective midsection of each grappler and cinch tight, bosoms mushrooming together, nosetips brushing, hearts pounding against each other, each determined but each weakening, drenched in perspiration.
Slowly but noticeably, Kylie’s arms loosen. As they do, Chloe’s seem to cinch tighter. She gives a squeeze hard enough to dig her dimples deeper. The blonde’s arms trail limply down over the brunette’s hips until Ky’s arms drape at her sides, the Hawkeye’s face etched in pain as the Upstart continues to bring the fire to melt Chill. The traitor sinks to her haunches, Kylie becoming more slack by the second as Strawberry’s perfect pearlies grit from her effort. Finally, Kylie’s chin slumps to her chest as Fields drains the remainder from the former fan favorite.
Releasing her Beary Hug, a dominant Fields rises to her feet and hovers over the limp Sanders. She raises an arm high, celebrating with the delighted crowd until a platinum-bobbed possum swings to life, sweeping a vicious forearm up between Chloe’s thighs, rocking the Upstart’s world with a brutal crotch shot that sends the tawny brunette up to tiptoes, Chloe chirping in pain. Fields’ legs ‘turn off’ and she drops to her knocked knees in front of Sanders.
A ragged Kylie pie-faces Chloe to her side then drops flat to the mat herself. Slowly, she rolls out under the bottom rope and drags herself to the ‘badge board’ where she claims a pink felt cat and places it on her sash, winner of the ‘kitty crotch shot’ badge. It’s almost all Ky can manage to make it back to the apron and throw herself back in, so Castle doesn’t force the blonde to officially check in, Nick confirming with a wave that it is now two badges apiece.
With the debilitating throbbing from between Chloe’s legs keeping her slow to rise, eventually it’s Sanders who answers the call and staggers to her feet. Vanilla Chill leans heavily against the ropes and takes in Fields’ struggle to get to her feet. When the former redhead reaches a wobbly seated position, the Hawkeye pushes away from the cables and races to her foe, lifting a knee and ‘thunking’ it into the Upstart’s forehead.
Fields is flattened by the blow. After Ky skids to a halt, nearly tumbling over, she strides back to the former Cirque de Soleil performer and leaps. The traitorous troll mushroom stomps Chloe’s modest rack under her tennies, the ivory-skinned grappler then grinding her soles into the spandex covering the tender tissue. The scrubbing draws yelps from Strawberry as she weakly tries to shove Kylie off but is unable to move her rival.
Sanders continues to use Chloe as a welcome mat until Fields manages to upset the ‘apple cart’ with a twist and send Sanders stumbling off. As Kylie regains her balance, Chloe rolls to her chest to protect her aching orbs and begins to push up to all fours until a vicious stomp between her shoulderblades sends the Upstart down, banging into the canvas on her face and chest.
Dropping into a crouching straddle of her foe, Kylie wraps her arms under and around those of Fields. The Hawkeye laces her fingers to secure a full nelson then hauls back on her grip in a modified version of a camel clutch.
Kylie soon has Chloe’s dimples directed toward the rafters, the brunette’s chest flung forward, back arched in agony. Sanders bounces her cheeks on Chloe’s and demands Castle ask if she wants to give in, knowing very well a patch awaits the woman who could make her opponent say ‘uncle’.
With a soft grunt ‘no’, Chloe convinces Nick no reward will be sash-bound in the near future and a growling Chill gives Chloe’s head a nasty shake from side to side with her nelson grip before finally throwing Fields’ face into the deck in frustration, the chance to take her first lead in the match denied.
Partially dismounting the tenderized Upstart for a moment, Kylie spins in her standing straddle to face down the frame of her foe. Ky drops to her haunches across Chloe’s lower spine and lifts her right arm high, clenching her fingers.
“FARM…HAND,” some of the more Pavolvian of Kylie’s Corps respond.
They may feel guilty about the chant but they’re exactly right as Sanders digs a claw into the muscle of Chloe’s left hammy, right where it connects with the dimpled one’s gluteus. The former fan favorite DIGS her digits deep into the flesh, crushing a nerve bundle with her clamp and drawing a howl of protest from the teary-eyed Upstart.
“STAHHHP,” Chloe cries.
“What’s that?” Kylie shouts over her shoulder. “That’s close to the magic word, but it’s not quite there.”
Castle seems to agree, asking Fields point blank if she wants to quit and give the Black Scout her third badge of the evening. Chloe bites her lower lip and shakes her head, stubborn as an erstwhile Pleasant Valley Princess.
Ky digs in deeper with her Farm Hand, pressing her left down atop her right to claw further into the muscle with her hammy clamp.
“GIVE UP DAMN IT!” Sanders insists. But the recent lightweight champ won’t give the blonde her satisfaction.
A frustrated, redfaced Kylie surrenders before Fields, removing her clawhold and walking to Fields’ ankles. Grabbing them, she spins Chloe to her back then drops to her knees next to the brunette while keeping control of her foe’s left leg.
Wrapping the pit of Chloe’s left knee around the back of her neck, the platinum bob of Sanders peeking out the top, Ky spins to perpendicular with her foe then reefs back with Fields’ leg while pressing one of her tennis shoes into the side of Chloe’s face.
Her ‘Chill Out’ stretch muffler secured, Kylie keeps the pressure on both ends increasing it for a half-dozen seconds until Chloe can take no more and wildly taps on the canvas.
Chill Out (Stretch Muffler) - www.youtube.com/watch?v=NVtOcOoAjCA
The growling Hawkeye keeps her new finisher in place for fun and it takes physical action from Castle to separate Kylie from her victim. A sweat-drenched Ky pants heavily as she rests on one knee, Chloe mewling as she works at multiple sore spots and gets used to the idea of being behind.
Not wanting to waste the energy it would take to stand, Chill crawls to the ropes, drops and rolls under. She lands unsteadily on her feet and walks wearily to the ‘badge board’ where she collects what looks to be the felt face of a weeping pig, perhaps a squealing one. Having pinned the ‘submission’ badge in place, the silvery blonde wipes her brow then raises her hands high as Nick motions it’s now three to two in favor of the FAWN original.
But Kylie isn’t satisfied with simply applying her new insignia and returning. Instead, she picks up the entire door-sized corkboard and carries into the mat’s edge. Spent by the effort involved, Sanders leans it against the apron and takes some deep breaths. Finally, the elfin blonde gathers up the board, turns it horizontal and slides the entire edifice into the squared circle. The Pleasant Valley Pariah huffs in a few more inhales before rejoining the badges and her fellow Girl Scout.
With Chloe up to one knee as she approaches, Kylie reaches to collect Fields by the braincase and tug her up. But the Upstart explodes out of her genuflection and drives a balled fist of an uppercut into the alabaster abdomen of Vanilla Chill. Kylie ‘guuuufs’ as she scoots backward, doubling over. Chloe, still on one knee, loads up another and cracks into Kylie’s chin, nearly knocking the Hawkeye over. Sanders’ arms pinwheel as she fights to maintain verticality. Ky comes back with a clubbing blow to the back of the Upstart’s skull that ends the uprising.
Grabbing Chloe by a wrist and the scruff of her neck, Sanders bullies Fields to a corner and aims her toward the opposite buckles. Ky Irish Whips the brunette on her way and the Upstart is sent zooming across the canvas, turning into a blistering impact, her diminutive frame rocked by the collision.
The Hawkeye hangs to see if Chloe can remain vertical and when she does, Kylie takes off like she’s shot from a cannon. The platinum blonde sprints to her target, lifting off a few feet out to SPLASH Fields beneath under a Chilly avalanche. But Chloe counters. Leaning back, her shoulders on the top cable, Strawberry sends her legs out in front of her and she meets Kylie’s cans with the soles of her sneakers. Gurls flattened, Kylie staggers away, wobbling back to her starting point.
Only one badge away from superior scouthood, a determined Sanders turns and charges again, unwilling to accept the Upstart has anything left in the tank.
Wrong.
Kylie dashes toward the doe-eyed dimple machine. As she reaches the opposite side, Chloe pushes her way up to a seat on the top buckle and drives her right foot into the Ky’s chin, straightening the elfin blonde. Sanders’ right hand rises to massage her aching jaw.
Her foe backed off a step or two from the impact, Chloe leaps off the middle ropes. She skies over Ky and lands draped down her back, the Upstart’s arms quickly encircling Sanders’ midriff and, from out of god damn nowhere, Chloe PILEDRIVES Kylie’s skull into the canvas with a leaping Fields’ Day.
Leaping version of the Fields’ Day (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pwfoMosNBp8 )
The demolished Kylie backward somersaults out of the impact, likely a divot in the plywood where she hit, and spreads out in an unconscious starfish in front of the dilapidated Upstart.
At the crowd’s insistent urging, the spent Fields crawls to the splattered blonde and drops atop her in a full body pin; pelvis to pelvis; chest to chest; and nose to nose. With the crowd chanting along, Castle slaps the mat for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THREEEE!
There isn’t a hint of movement from beneath and little more from above. The FAWNatics make up for it, jumping to their feet, perhaps momentarily forgetting the match isn’t over. Nearly consumed by the battle, Chloe slides off the blonde wreckage below her and slithers to the ‘badge board’ Ky had conveniently brought into the ring. Pushing to all fours, the ponytailed brunette removes a big pink ‘3’ from the board and affixes it to her sash.
Not only did it mean the ‘pinfall’ badge is hers, but it could have just as easily signified a 3-3 tie between the combatants in the number of badges accrued. Castle makes it official with his wave to the timekeeper.
But the god awful impact of Chloe’s turbocharged Fields’ Day grows in importance when the battered Chloe makes it to her feet and wobbles to the spread-eagled Sanders. She places a white sneaker on Ky’s chest and asks politely but emphatically for the count to start.
Chloe isn’t the only one who’s seen the red ‘KO’ badge still available on the cork and Nick nods that Fields can claim both badges with one wipeout of the annihilated blonde. A ten-count without Kylie reaching her feet would be all it would take to claim the fourth and decisive badge necessary to be proclaimed the REAL Girl Scout and a threat to a variety of belt-wearing grapplers throughout FAWN.
Chloe removes her footwear from Kylie’s chest to start the count and it takes THREE of the TEN for Chill to show she’s even close to defrosting, a shudder shaking her frame though there’s no consciousness in combination.
Castle shoos Fields away between FOUR and FIVE as Kylie’s hazel peepers blink wide and Sanders wobbles to all fours between SIX and SEVEN. Chloe’s doe eyes continue to widen as she watches Kylie reanimate, the former Pleasant Valley Princess calling upon the will that had won many a heart in her younger days. Ky’d never gone down easily even when she went down a lot and that trait remains with nearly every FAWNatic turned against her, hoping she wouldn’t be able to answer the call.
But at NINE and then some, a glassy-eyed Kylie trembles to vertical, still slightly bent over but meeting the requirements to deny Chloe the KO badge that would’ve won the match.
The disappointed Upstart confirms with Castle she cannot affix her match-winning medal and, when he does, Fields focuses on the swaying blonde. She judges Kylie’s position and leaps to the ropes in front of the Hawkeye. Grabbing the top rope with both hands as she lands on the middle, Fields springboards in a u-turn toward Sanders and NAILS her with a roundhouse kick that flattens the traitorous troll to the canvas.
Springboard Shortkick (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aFbcmW6XwJk )
Though a cover might not have been something Kylie could kick out from under, there’s nothing for Chloe to do but decide if the kick will keep her foe down for ten without her on top.
Fields immediately decides it’s not, moving to the set of buckles nearest the splayed Sanders. Quickly rising to the top buckle, Fields turns on her penthouse perch to face the softly stirring Hawkeye, whom she takes aim at between a frame of raised thumbs and index fingers. As the crowd cheers for the coupe de grace, Chloe launches and flips into her signature Strawberry Sundae, a 450-degree elbow drop pointed at Kylie’s black heart that would finish the job.
Strawberry Sundae (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CANNILwi3hc )
But at the last second, the platinum bob of the Black Scout, and the head and body beneath it, roll out of range and the Upstart drives her joint into the deck with incredible force. After the ring-rattling collision, Chloe howls in pain as she cradles her right arm close. A few feet away, Kylie manages a weak smile but little more for long seconds, leading to a race to vertical.
Chloe beats Kylie there and loads a flashing superkick toward the blonde’s chin, but Sanders ducks under the lightning strike. In motion immediately after the miss, Kylie races to the ropes and rebounds toward a turning Chloe. Sanders nearly CUTS HER IN HALF with a ferocious spear that PLOWS the brunette into the mat.
Again, both women remain down long enough to start a count, but Kylie pushes up by FOUR and beats Strawberry to her feet by a tick or two. It allows Sanders to dig a toe kick DEEP into the tawny tummy of the REAL Girl Scout when she rises and, with the dimpled one doubled, Ky grabs her ponytailed locks and rips her to the deck with a sitout facebuster.
Sitout facebuster (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CANNILwi3hc )
The Hawkeye doesn’t even wait for the count to begin. Instead, she rolls out under the ropes and plucks the apron skirt up on a search for tools. She emerges with a pair of chairs and heaves them one after another into the squared circle. The platinum blonde beauty follows behind and, as Chloe fights to beat the count, Sanders sets each chair into place then turns and collects the ‘badge board’. Ominously, she lays it flat between the steel furniture and, with her edifice built, collects Fields.
Kylie bullies the wobbling Chloe around her construction and to the nearby corner where she scoops the Upstart into a fireman’s carry, Chloe hanging limp in her clutches. With the FAWNatics aghast at Sanders’ endeavor, Ky leans her bundle on the top buckle and lifts the soles of her sneakers to the bottom ropes.
Realizing she doesn’t have the strength to go full avalanche on the wannabe by making it to the middle cable, Kylie leaps from her slightly elevated position and sends Chloe CRASHING through the badge board with a turbo-strength Chilly Valley Driver. The board and remaining badges explode and scatter in a shower of debris and beneath it is the demolished Upstart, Fields ending in a motionless starfish.
Chilly Valley Driver (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FtXuTLrg4Ro )
The battered and bruised Kylie finishes in a seated position and stares blankly through Castle’s count to FIVE. Finally, she rises wearily and stands above the wreckage, searching for her fourth and final badge. The elfin blonde plucks it from the rubble as the crowd pleads with the unconscious Chloe to waken them from their bad dream. Alas, there is no response from the dimpled cutie, as Nick counts the Upstart down and out for the full TEN.
He turns to find Kylie’s shit-eating grin, her final badge already in place. Castle’s face flashes sour for a split-second, but he dutifully turns to the ring announcer with his final signal and the announcer makes it official.
“Your winner and the REAL GIRL SCOUT of FAWN by a total of four badges to three. KYLIE SANDERS!”
The crowd groans then jeers at the platinum blonde as she stands in a straddle over the still oblivious Fields, savoring taking down the woman whom the FAWNatics believed they had made the replacement sweetheart of the masses. The truth Kylie knows is she abdicated that worthless title and had become so much more. That truth lay at her feet in the form of the motionless Upstart.
“Keep their love,” Kylie shouts at the insensate Chloe. “Chill gonna keep her dignity.”