Post by hawkeye on Dec 7, 2017 1:04:38 GMT
Shortly before her latest pay-per-view outing at the FAWN Arena, Camille Cosworth’s mind is elsewhere as she talks on the phone with her girlfriend stationed miles away at the Madhouse.
CAMILLE COSWORTH
“Yoona, I wish you were here instead of --”
“We’re not having this discussion again, babe,” Yoona snaps from the other end of the line. “You focus on your match, and let me end this motherfucker, once and for all.”
Park’s tone leaves no room for further argument, and Camille merely sighs, “...I’m wearing a special costume just for you. I think you would’ve really enjoyed it, and I would’ve liked for you to see it in person.”
“Is it slutty?” the Korean immediately asks, suddenly sounding interested.
The irony of the question amuses Cosworth, and she laughs for a few seconds before answering, “Yeah, Yoona. I guess it is. In fact, you could say that I’m dressed as the sluttiest person I know.”
“...Wonder Woman?” Park guesses after a brief hesitation.
“WHAT?!” Camille shrieks. “What the heck, Yoona?! How is Wonder Woman slutty?! At all?!”
“Trust me, Cam, it takes one to know one! Wonder Woman’s the sluttiest slut in the history of sluts! She left Paradise Fucking Island to go to the world of man. Why would she do that if she didn’t have an uncontrollable cock addiction?!”
“Oh my God, no! No! She came to our world to defeat Ares and protect --”
“Yeah, whatever,” Yoona dismissively interrupts. “She literally jumped all over the first penis that she saw. You and I both know she was up to her eyebrows in veiny, throbbing dicks the entire time she --”
Cosworth seethes into her phone, “Yoona, I swear, I will fight you over -- ugh, nevermind, I gotta go...”
She doesn’t get to finish her threat as a production assistant motions for her to get ready for her entrance. Camille sighs heavily, and then she switches to Korean to wish her girlfriend good luck.
<<Shit fuck titty cunt.>>
Uproarious laughter from the other end of the line.
“What? What’s so funny?” Cosworth asks, flipping back to English.
“N -- nothing…” Park gasps between guffaws. “”G -- Good luck to you too… AHAHAHAHA… you… you huge fucking doofus…! HAHAHAHA --”
Camille rolls her eyes as she stashes away her phone, and she briskly walks to the gorilla position just as the announcer makes her introduction. To the crowd’s confusion, the music that plays over the PA speakers isn’t the wailing electric cello that typically heralds the arrival of the Girl of Tomorrow, but the sugary K-pop melodies that accompany Yoona Park. A few seconds later, their befuddlement increases tenfold when it is indeed Camille that steps through the curtains and onto the entrance ramp, only she’s wearing Yoona’s ring gear rather than her own.
Evidently, her Halloween costume for All Hallow’s Evil is simply her own girlfriend.
Park’s spare clothes don’t quite fit Cosworth’s more ample curves, the black and gold-trimmed bustier-style one-piece showing quite a bit more of Camille’s bosom and rump than she would have liked, and she noticeably blushes as the fans loudly voice their appreciation of the more titillating look. She takes a moment or two to flex her fingers and toes, her girlfriend’s leg sleeves and gauntlets leaving her feet bare and her hands covered, an odd inversion from her own wrestling gear. Once Camille gets acclimated to the changes, she starts walking towards the ring while she subconsciously lip-syncs to the song, her command of Yoona’s native tongue now strong enough that she can follow along with the Korean lyrics. She plucks a spare microphone from the announcers’ table as she walks by, then she mounts one corner of the squared circle with a pair of effortless bounds, first from floor to apron and then from apron to top turnbuckle.
“OBSCURE CULTURAL REFERENCE,” Cosworth says loudly into her microphone as she turns to face outwards, causing the perplexed audience to fall into silence. “F BOMB, F BOMB, F BOMB. WHIMSICAL ANECDOTE. MORE F BOMBS. NONSENSICAL HAIKU. SCATOLOGICAL INSULT. BOMBASTIC BOAST. MORE F BOMBS. DELIBERATE MISQUOTE. RANDOM THREAT. PUNCHLINE TO INITIAL OBSCURE CULTURAL REFERENCE. MORE F BOMBS. EPIC PROMOOOOOOOO!”
Clearly, the Girl of Tomorrow had been expecting some sort of crowd reaction, but for the time being, nothing happens.
After a handful of seconds, nothing continues to happen, and Camille feels increasingly self-conscious.
“Awk - waaaaaaarrrrrd...” she whispers to herself in a sing-song voice when it becomes obvious that her satire of Yoona’s oratory style has fallen flat.
Referee Craig Long walks over and flatly informs her, “I just cringed so hard that I sprained my face.”
Cosworth sighs in defeat and tosses the microphone to a nearby ring technician, then she breaks character in the most spectacular way possible. Blessed with aerial aptitude matched by only a very few select flyweights, the Girl of Tomorrow launches from her perch, twisting one hundred eighty degrees around one axis followed by four hundred fifty degrees around another in a textbook Phoenix Splash. Camille adjusts the landing just fractions of a second before impact, so rather than belly-flopping into an empty ring she instead lands in a crouch, and that finally elicits the crowd reaction that she was looking for as the FAWNatics rise as one and roar their approval.
“That’s more like it,” Craig informs her, earning a few chuckles from the daredevil brunette.
“Glad to see your face is okay,” Cosworth ripostes as she playfully pinches the official’s cheeks.
Long starts to garble a response, but he doesn’t get the words out before the ring announcer introduces Camille’s opponent for the evening.
”And her opponent, hailing from San Diego, California, she stands five feet five inches tall and weighs in this evening at a mouth-watering one-hundred and thirty-one pounds… Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Three D… DAAARRRLLLAAA DIIIAAANNNEEE DAAAVVVIIISSS!!!!!”
The buzz of the crowd is broken by a loud, sudden, and very orgasmic "OHHHH..." coming over the PA system, which is soon followed by a similar, "AHHHHH..." Confusion quickly gives way, at least somewhat, as the voice unmistakably belongs to Shirley Manson, the beat of Garbage's "#1 Crush" thumping over the sound system. But that's only part of the equation. Longtime Jungle Dwellers know that this music has long been established as the anthem of the many iterations of the union known as T&AKO.
Apparently, the music was now Davis’ own.
Those in the know about FAWN history immediately start to boo, and the rest of the FAWNatics soon follow their lead. But when the curtains part and a voluptuous young blonde strides into view, the vast majority of those cheers
transform into whistles of appreciation. The Cali blonde saunters down to the ring, her lips curled into a smile — but it’s an expression of predatory intent rather than joyful feelings. While her bosom is currently sheathed in a black -- and oddly inside out -- t-shirt, the garment is unable to suppress the glory of her bounty in any way. Below decks, her undercarriage is encased in a set of purple lycra bikini bottoms with black trim, and black boots tie up the ensemble.
DARLA DIANE DAVIS
As she strides down the entrance ramp and stares down her opponent in the ring, Darla’s smile curdles into a scowl. Not so long ago, Davis had been where Camille Cosworth is now, filling the role of young ingenue with limitless potential. Three D had announced herself to the world at the 2012 edition of FAWNamania with her destruction of Chloe Fields and Cynthia Mitchell, and when she joined with Irma Irons, Rose Evans, and Gabby Mendoza to form the stable of Generation Next, many predicted that her ascension into the upper ranks was inevitable. Indeed, in her most recent outing, Darla had parlayed that potential into a title match against then newly minted World Champion Veronica Treymane, and the SoCal beach babe had come tantalizingly close to claiming the top spot in the federation for herself. Combined with Gabby having dethroned long-reigning lightweight champion Lily Burlingame just the month before, it seemed like Generation Next was Generation Now.
But that was more than a year ago.
Ever since that unsuccessful World Title challenge, Darla’s career had languished. Nagging injuries and a toxic backstage personality had brought a screeching halt to her momentum, and rather than becoming a pay-per-view mainstay, she had instead found herself relegated to dark matches and being loaned out to lesser federations. On top of that, Irma was around less and less frequently as she preferred to ply her violent trade in her native England, the Barely Legal pair of Gabby and Rose self-destructed after Gabby lost her title, and thus Generation Next had been consigned to the history books as Generation Never.
Nevertheless, Darla has a chance to reclaim what was once hers. Crushing the woman standing before her now would give her career a much needed boost, and show the world to whom tomorrow had always truly belonged. The scowl on her face morphs back into a predatory grin as she ascends the ring steps and strides to the middle of the apron before turning her back to the ropes.
There, she waits for one of the ringside camera jockeys to find her. Slowly… aaaaaaaaaaaaagonizingly so… Darla peels the tee up her body, bringing into view the cleavage that had spelled doom for a plethora of girls, magnificently framed by a purple top, knotted between the cups by pink lace. Finally pulling the shirt over her head, Darla looks down into the lens, her smirk only accentuated by her bitten bottom lip…
… and then she tosses the tee over the camera, blacking out the shot.
Three D then pulls herself through the ropes, joining the Irish redhead across the ring, Davis beginning to limber up as the official moves to inspect her. Darla Diane turns to face the buckles, a few fans whistling as she gives her hips a wiggle the further down Craig’s hands descend. In the spirit of helpfulness, the buxom blonde lifts first her left boot and then the right before turning back to face the official--at which point, Three D makes a point of putting her best features forward.
"Go on," Darla purrs, "I DARE you to check 'em..."
“Uhhhh, no thanks. I’m good,” the official mutters before calling for the opening bell to get the match started.
Despite her misgivings towards the beach blonde, Camille strides out to the center of the ring and cautiously extends one arm for a prematch handshake. Darla disdainfully regards the proffered limb for a few seconds, but then she steps forward to tightly grasp her opponent’s hand and reels the brunette in close.
Chest-to-chest and cheek-to-cheek, Davis whispers into Cosworth’s ear, “I don’t even know you, but I despise you. Everything about you makes me sick. The way you pander to the crowd with your spins and your flips. That cloying, shit-eating grin on your face. Even your stupid, knock-off nickname -- Girl of Tomorrow -- what the fuck does that even mean? Newsflash, bitch: you ain’t the future -- I am -- and I’m gonna tear your overhyped monkey-ass apart in front of the whole goddamned world.”
Her hateful diatribe delivered, Darla releases the handshake and gives her opponent a forceful two-handed shove to the shoulders, sending Camille stumbling backwards to the edge of the ring. For her part, the Girl of Tomorrow seems more than a little taken aback by the blonde’s vehement antipathy, and she scrunches her nose and quirks her lips in confusion as she’s unsure of how to respond. After a couple of seconds, Cosworth finally replies with her go-to line for shutting down renowned trash-talkers such as Maddy Crane or even her own girlfriend.
“Yeah, well… that’s just, like, your opinion, maaaaaaaaan.”
Enraged by her opponent’s flippant retort, Three D storms forward with a snarl on her lips. The Girl of Tomorrow meets her halfway, and the pair of wrestlers quickly find themselves locked up in an Elbow and Collar near the center of the ring. For a brief moment, blonde and brunette push against each other, but then Darla’s patience quickly wears thin and she breaks the stalemate with a knee to Camille’s groin. Cosworth doubles over with a raspy wheeze and Craig Long starts to issue a reprimand for the Low Blow, but Davis dismisses the referee with hardly a glance. Instead, she loops her arms around her hunched over opponent’s waist, muscles the brunette up onto her shoulders into the Powerbomb stall position, and drives the Girl of Tomorrow into the deck.
POWERBOMB: www.youtube.com/watch?v=iBF1wWQMJO4
Camille bounces a good six inches from the devastating impact, then she drops back down to the mat with her eyes closed and her back arched as she silently howls in anguish. Darla takes a moment to admire her handiwork as the FAWNatics boo her vociferously, then she gets back to work. The corset-like effect of Yoona’s compression one-piece accentuates Cosworth’s breasts, making them ripe for the picking, and Three D immediately takes advantage by sinking a claw into each. Camille rediscovers her voice when Darla squeezes hard, screaming in pain while she reflexively grips her tormentor’s wrists. Unfortunately, that’s exactly what the blonde powerhouse had wanted, and she lifts Cosworth the dual Breast Claws before Powerbombing her back to the canvas.
Darla’s Beach Bomb hits just as hard as the traditional Powerbomb preceding it, and Camille ends up curled up in a fetal ball after suffering a pair of bone-rattling impacts in the span of ten seconds. She’s not in that position for long before Davis cracks open her shell with a stomp to the ribs, and then Three D pounces into a Crossbody Pin. With a disdainful smirk towards the fans still booing her for that initial crotch shot, Darla nods along with Craig Long for the…
ONE!
TWO!
THR-NO!
Camille shoves a shoulder off the mat with half a second to spare, and the fans collectively let out a sigh of relief. Even so, it seems that’s all their heroine can muster at this moment, and the buxom beach babe promptly hauls her up by a couple handfuls of hair. Three D continues to punish her opponent’s spine and ribcage with a constricting Bearhug, coiling her arms around Cosworth’s midsection and arching backwards to lift the slightly taller Girl of Tomorrow a couple of inches off the ground. Camille gasps and groans when Darla parades around the ring ragdolling her back and forth, though when Long offers her a chance to surrender, she resolutely shakes her head and waves him off. Davis realizes that it’s still too early in the game to squeeze out her opponent, so she retreats to the center of the ring before barreling towards a corner with Cosworth still in her grasps. The brunette is aware of what’s coming but there’s little she can do to stop it, so she just grits her teeth and steels herself moments before she’s forcibly sandwiched between the turnbuckles and her opponent’s body, courtesy of Davis’ Bearhug Splash.
The crushing impact explosively forces the air from Camille’s lungs, and things only get worse from there when Darla steps onto the bottom rope and leans forward to give her a force-feeding of cleavage. Cosworth flails helplessly in the corner until Three D finally relents at Craig’s count of “FOUR!” but the glazed look in her eyes makes it readily apparent that the battered brunette is already in the early throes of jugg-shock.
“Girl of Tomorrow, my ass…” Davis huffs under her breath as she charges at the corner once more, looking to bury Cosworth under another double-D avalanche.
Given just the tiniest bit of breathing room allows Camille to recover, however, and for the first time in the match she manages to put up some semblance of resistance by draping her arms over the ropes and curling her knees to her chest. Darla already has too much momentum to abort, and she ends up smashing her rack against those bony joints. Still on her feet after the collision, Davis turns her back to her opponent and staggers away with her arms protectively swaddling her chest, and in doing so she opens the door for the Girl of Tomorrow to seize control of the match.
Camille takes a brief moment to gather herself, then she sprints out of the corner at her unwitting opponent. She leaps into the air, but rather than sail clear over Darla’s head, she intentionally gives only a three-quarters effort so that the underside of her right thigh catches the back of the blonde’s head. Gravity does the work from there as Cosworth plummets from five feet in the air, mashing Davis’ face into the canvas on the way down with a Leapfrog Leg Drop Bulldog.
LEAPFROG LEG DROP BULLDOG: www.youtube.com/watch?v=yxC69y7zOP0
Three D has the wherewithal to stay prone after the crash landing to prevent an immediate pin, so the Girl of Tomorrow clambers to her feet instead. She starts to haul the splattered blonde up by an arm, though as soon as Darla has her legs underneath her, she fires back with a wild, looping Haymaker at Camille’s face. Cosworth ducks under the blow easily enough, and at the same time she slips her own arm across her opponent’s chest and neck. Camille flexes her knees and starts to power Darla upwards for a hellacious Lifting Side Slam, but her plans go awry when a quick-thinking Davis jabs a thumb into her eye socket. The blinded Girl of Tomorrow is still screeching in pain when Three D lays out on her back to get some measure of revenge by sending Camille face-first into the mat with a Reverse STO.
REVERSE STO: www.youtube.com/watch?v=9aT_XQeAn-Q
The fans groan as their heroine’s resurgence has proven to be short-lived in the face of her opponent’s unsavory tactics. Unlike Cosworth, Davis doesn’t bother rising to her feet, and instead she rolls the brunette over and covers for another pin. Long has to curtail his reprimand for the blatant eye-poke as he drops down to the deck to count out…
ONE!
TWO!
...and to Darla’s frustration, Camille kicks out once again, as her high-flying, daredevil style requires that the Girl of Tomorrow be possessed of a significant resilience against harsh landings.
Muttering a string of vituperation to herself, Three D tries a different tactic. She flips Cosworth to a prone position once more, then steps onto the back of the brunette’s thighs. Camille yips in displeasure as the hard soles of Darla’s boots grind into her hamstrings, and her predicament gets more worrisome when she finds her feet twisted and wedged against her opponent’s shins, thereby immobilizing her lower limbs. Davis reaches down and painfully slaps at her flanks, though for now Cosworth stubbornly keeps her arms out of reach to avoid being trapped in a Romero Stretch. Darla slaps again, and then again, each time harder than the last, and still Camille grits her teeth and maintains the mental fortitude to keep from reaching back.
A growl rumbles in the back of the blonde’s throat, and suddenly, she has an epiphany. She reaches down once more, but instead of a slap, she plants her fingers in Cosworth’s sides and starts wiggling her digits. Camille’s tickle tolerance proves to be nil, and she immediately starts squirming while struggling to suppress a fit of giggles. After about a dozen seconds of the most devastating tickle attack this side of an Upstart slumber party, the Girl of Tomorrow can withstand no more so she finally reaches back with her arms to cover up her soft spots, and she immediately finds her wrists snatched up by her opponent.
“Gotcha now, bitch,” Darla hisses as she drops to a seat and then lays on her back to hoist Camille up into a devastating Romero Stretch.
ROMERO STRETCH: www.youtube.com/watch?v=FhYQoa6bZmw
Cosworth wails long and loud as she feels the strain from her knees to her shoulders and everywhere in between. While limber by normal standards, she had never been one of FAWN’s true bendy-backed contortionists, and for a few seconds she seriously considers calling it a night. Once that initial wave of pain and panic washes over her, however, Camille notices that the hold isn’t quite as tortorous as she remembered from her sparring sessions. It quickly dawns upon her that Yoona’s compression one-piece she had chosen to wear on a whim is alleviating much of the strain on her abdomen and spine. Silently thanking her lucky stars for her fortuitous choice in costume, the Girl of Tomorrow clenches her jaw and squeezes her eyes shut, resolving to ride out Three D’s attempt to wring a submission from her.
Darla jounces her prey up and down in an attempt to convince Camille otherwise, but after another thirty seconds, it becomes evident that she’s only tiring herself out. Davis releases the hold, allowing Cosworth to unceremoniously crumple into a boneless heap on the mat, then the SoCal blonde gets upright and begins pacing the ring, taking deep breaths to recharge her batteries after the exertion of holding her opponent aloft in the Romero Hold.
Meanwhile, Camille rolls to the edge of the ring and drapes one arm over the bottom rope to ensure she’s unmolested as she regroups, alternately rubbing at her back and belly with her free hand. She stays down for as long as referee Craig Long’s count allows, only getting upright to avoid a countout at the last second. Unable to stall any longer, she shuffles forward to engage her opponent in the center of the ring. Darla is clearly in better condition at the moment, and she delivers a pair of unanswered Forearm Smashes to the side of Cosworth’s head, but the brunette catches the third sends Davis running for the ropes with an Irish Whip.
Three D hits the springy steel strand and rebounds, though she hardly makes it two steps into the return trip because the Girl of Tomorrow had been running behind her the whole way. As soon as the SoCal powerhouse turns around, Camille leaps at her legs first, planting both heels into her ample chest and kicking off into backflip before sticking the landing on a picture-perfect Dropsault. The force of the blow sends Darla tumbling over the top rope, and she hits the apron before slopping to the floor. Stunned more than hurt, Davis forces herself upright as soon as possible, and that proves to be a costly error when she straightens up just in time to see Cosworth flying at her over the top rope. The high-flyer soars cleanly over the steel cables, turning a forward somersault in midair before barreling into the blonde with a Tope Con Hilo of truly ludicrous elevation and velocity that brings the FAWNatics to their feet.
TOPE CON HILO: www.youtube.com/watch?v=c5a0m1yuGZk
Darla’s buxom bosom proves to be a more than sufficient crash pad, significantly dampening the normally jarring impact for Camille. Though breathing heavily, the Girl of Tomorrow still manages to find her feet while her opponent is still on hands and knees. She takes a few more seconds to gather her reserves, then she shows off her own power game, bending down to loop her arms around Three D’s waist and gut-wrenching the beach brawler into the Powerbomb position to a smattering of impressed OOOHs from the front row fans. Then Camille pivots to face the ring, and forcefully slams Darla spine-first onto the hard apron to get some payback for the opening moments of the contest.
APRON POWERBOMB: www.youtube.com/watch?v=SOIzGWU3uTg
Somehow staying on the narrow ledge, Davis arches her back spasmodically after the catastrophic collision from the Apron Powerbomb, then Cosworth gives her a two-handed shove to send her rolling back into the ring. Uncharacteristically, the high-flying brunette eschews her customary leap over the top rope to re-enter the ring -- perhaps out of consideration for the punishment she’s already taken in the match -- instead opting to slide in underneath the bottom rope. She crawls over to the wreckage of Three D, lays across Darla’s torso, and hooks a leg for…
ONE!
TWO!
THRE -- NO!
Davis shrugs a shoulder up off the canvas with Long’s hand just a hair’s breadth away from slapping the mat for the third and final time. Camille rises to her haunches and holds up three fingers to the referee, and when Craig firmly shakes his head in the negative, she groans and lays out on her back, massaging her temples between the middle finger and thumb of her right hand.
“Couldn’t just let me have this one, could ya?” she grumbles at her opponent, who at the moment is incapable of responding with anything more than an agonized gurgle.
Despite her grousing, Cosworth is quickly back on task. She gets to her feet, cinches on a tight rear Waistlock, and begins dragging Davis upright as well. Three D swings wildly with a Back Elbow, and when the Girl of Tomorrow ducks under that attempt, Darla whirls around with another eye-poke at the ready, the middle and index fingers of her right hand stretched in a V and rocketing towards Camille’s face. That plan gets foiled as well when Cosworth brings her own right hand vertically in front of the bridge of her nose, the outside edge of her palm hitting the fork between Davis’ extended fingers and stopping the eye-poke with perhaps a centimeter to spare.
Camille grins that grin which Darla hates so much, and she says, “Hah! I can’t believe that worrrrrRRGGGGHH…”
Cosworth’s jubilation is far too premature as Davis promptly punts her the privates, prompting the official to deliver a scathing rebuke and a moratorium on cheap shots under threat of disqualification. Not that any of that helps Camille as she sinks to her knees with her hands clasped between her thighs, though she’s not there for long before Darla scoops her up onto a shoulder. Most of the fans are thinking Power Slam or perhaps Michinoku Driver, but then Three D shifts her burden forward and wraps her arms around Camille’s waist, leaving the Girl of Tomorrow upside down and belly-to-belly with the beach fighter.
Just as the Tombstone Piledriver seems imminent, Cosworth somehow finds it in herself to crunch her left leg towards her stomach and she hits a Hail Mary Knee Strike right to the crown of Darla’s skull. The unexpected headshot instantly renders Davis woozy, and she nearly completes the Tombstone Piledriver anyway simply by letting go of her opponent. Thankfully for the Girl of Tomorrow, she manages to wrap her own arms around Three D’s waist to stay tightly latched to the teetering blonde, and when Darla topples over backwards, Camille manages to get her toes to touch down first onto the mat.
For a moment, the pair of wrestlers are locked in opposite halves of a two person bridge, Davis bent over backwards on bottom and Cosworth bent over forwards on top, then the brunette gathers herself and straightens her back to lift her opponent into the air and reverse their positions from just a couple of seconds ago. Unlike her match with Bianca Simpson, this time Camille doesn’t get cute by trying to pile on reversal after reversal. Darla is far too dangerous of a foe, so Cosworth promptly drops to her knees and spikes the blonde’s cranium into the deck.
TOMBSTONE REVERSAL: www.youtube.com/watch?v=HdgAHXVx3l8
Three D slops to the mat in a splayed out starfish, and Camille quickly presses her palms to that double-D rack for the pin. Every last person in the building is absolutely certain that the Girl of Tomorrow has put away her foe, and they count along with Craig for…
ONE!
TWO!
THR -- NO!
...only to roar with equal parts incredulity and disappointment when Darla narrowly beats the count again by rolling onto her left side to break the pin.
“OH, COME ON!” Camille screeches as she throws up her hands in exasperation, though she quickly regains her composure and quietly mutters, “Ugh… what would Yoona do…”
“Probably stomp her in the face a whole bunch of times,” Long offers, before adding a second later, “Umm… please don’t do that.”
Cosworth doesn’t bother to dignify that with a response beyond a roll of her eyes, though she quickly runs through a mental checklist of her girlfriend’s arsenal and discards the options that she finds either too brutal, too tawdry, or too boring. After a bit of consideration, she realizes that there’s nothing left, and she sighs wearily to no one in particular as she pinches the bridge of her nose in apparent irritation. Nevertheless, she still has a job to finish, even if she can’t quite finish it in-character, so she slaps herself lightly on the cheeks a couple of times as she rises to her feet.
With Darla still discombobulated and seeing stars after the Tombstone Piledriver, Camille reaches down and collects each of her boots under one arm, then she stands up to lift the blonde’s lower body off the mat. Davis wordlessly hisses in protest and futilely claws at the canvas, but there’s little else she can do as Cosworth spins in a circle and drags her along, faster and faster and faster until the centripetal force lifts her entire body into the air. From there, the Girl of Tomorrow needs only a couple more revolutions to hit maximum speed on the Giant Swing, then she shifts her grip without slowing down, releasing Three D’s right leg to double up on the left.
With her entire weight suddenly supported by only her left ankle, the crushing pressure on her tendons and ligaments becomes unbearable, and Darla screams bloody murder as Camille continues to spin her around and around and around by the captured limb. The FAWNatics count as they always do, and once they reach “TWENTY” Cosworth drops to the mat to ground both herself and her opponent before transitioning into the more traditional portion of her Giant Swing and Achilles Lock combination that her supporters in Tomorrow-Morrow Land had dubbed Spin to Win.
SPIN TO WIN: www.youtube.com/watch?v=-PDAVxHny_g
Camille scissors both of her legs around Darla’s left, and she continues to torque back on the foot to grind the bony ridge of her forearm into the vulnerable Achilles Tendon. It’s still a better position for Three D than just a moment ago, however, as being back on the deck means she can start dragging herself towards the safety of the ropes.
“Y -- Y -- You heinous… b -- bitch…” Davis grunts through gritted teeth as she inches her way towards the nearest side of the ring on her elbows. “I’ll… I’ll… get you for nnnnNNRRRAAAGHHH!”
Seeing that her opponent is just a few inches away from the bottom rope, the Girl of Tomorrow pops to her feet and pulls the screaming blonde back to the center of the ring. Then she begins to spin again in a reapplication of the Giant Swing, all the while grinding and grinding and grinding and grinding away at that big tendon in Darla’s left ankle.
“I’M REALLY SORRY ABOUT THIS,” Cosworth calls out mid-swing, talking more loudly than usual to be heard over Three D’s shrieks although somehow still sounding sincere. “DON’T NORMALLY DO SUBMISSIONS ‘CAUSE THEY’RE BORING. I KNOW, I KNOW, IT’S A FUNDAMENTAL PART OF WRESTLING, BUT AS A FAN, I JUST DON’T SEE THE APPEAL, Y’KNOW? YOU’RE JUST WATCHING THE SAME THING FOR HALF A MINUTE OR
MORE -- WHAT’S THE FUN IN THAT? SERIOUSLY, EVERY TIME THAT AMARA WAS WORKING THE CAMEL CLUTCH, I JUST GOT UP AND WENT TO THE --”
“SHUT UP!” Davis screams back. “SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP AND PUT ME DOOOOWWWWWWN!”
Camille does as asked, dropping the pair of wrestlers back to the mat once more, though it’s more due to her own dizziness than Darla’s demands. Still in textbook position to work the Achilles Lock, the Girl of Tomorrow rolls onto her left side and arches her back to pour even more pressure into the hold. Knowing that crawling for the ropes would only result in getting dragged back to square one for another spin cycle in the Giant Swing, Davis instead tries to pry open Cosworth’s thighs to free her leg. When that proves fruitless as well, she lightly claws at the exposed soles of her opponent’s feet in a desperate, last ditch attempt to escape, hoping and praying that the brunette’s funny bone extended beyond just her ribs.
No such luck though.
“That’s not really my spot,” Camille blithely deadpans, not even a ghost of a smile on her face. “Yoona, though… whoo boy... I mean she says she hates it, but I know she actually --”
“I GIVE!” Darla shouts. “I GIVE, NOW LET ME GO!”
Cosworth eases up the pressure at once, then releases completely as soon as the bell rings and the announcer proclaims her the winner. She gets up and allows Craig to raise her hand in victory, tilting her head back and closing her eyes to soak in the cheers for a hard won match against the most dangerous opponent she’s had in some time. Camille doesn’t get to revel for long before her thoughts drift to her girlfriend, and she opens her eyes and turns to the official.
“Hey, Craig. Think I can make it to the Madhouse in time?” she asks, not bothering and not needing to specify ‘in time’ for what.
The man checks his wristwatch, then shakes his head and ruefully answers, “Sorry, Cam. At this hour, even with light traffic, I’m afraid not.”
The Girl of Tomorrow sighs deeply and does some quick mental math. She figures that she has a chance if she rode at “Go to Jail” speeds while dodging in between cars like a maniac on her Kawasaki Ninja, but she ultimately decides against it. Camille gives one final acknowledging nod to the referee and her fallen opponent, then she slips out of the ring and makes a beeline for the lounge to anxiously watch her girlfriend once again do battle with Adelaide Brewster.
CAMILLE COSWORTH
“Yoona, I wish you were here instead of --”
“We’re not having this discussion again, babe,” Yoona snaps from the other end of the line. “You focus on your match, and let me end this motherfucker, once and for all.”
Park’s tone leaves no room for further argument, and Camille merely sighs, “...I’m wearing a special costume just for you. I think you would’ve really enjoyed it, and I would’ve liked for you to see it in person.”
“Is it slutty?” the Korean immediately asks, suddenly sounding interested.
The irony of the question amuses Cosworth, and she laughs for a few seconds before answering, “Yeah, Yoona. I guess it is. In fact, you could say that I’m dressed as the sluttiest person I know.”
“...Wonder Woman?” Park guesses after a brief hesitation.
“WHAT?!” Camille shrieks. “What the heck, Yoona?! How is Wonder Woman slutty?! At all?!”
“Trust me, Cam, it takes one to know one! Wonder Woman’s the sluttiest slut in the history of sluts! She left Paradise Fucking Island to go to the world of man. Why would she do that if she didn’t have an uncontrollable cock addiction?!”
“Oh my God, no! No! She came to our world to defeat Ares and protect --”
“Yeah, whatever,” Yoona dismissively interrupts. “She literally jumped all over the first penis that she saw. You and I both know she was up to her eyebrows in veiny, throbbing dicks the entire time she --”
Cosworth seethes into her phone, “Yoona, I swear, I will fight you over -- ugh, nevermind, I gotta go...”
She doesn’t get to finish her threat as a production assistant motions for her to get ready for her entrance. Camille sighs heavily, and then she switches to Korean to wish her girlfriend good luck.
<<Shit fuck titty cunt.>>
Uproarious laughter from the other end of the line.
“What? What’s so funny?” Cosworth asks, flipping back to English.
“N -- nothing…” Park gasps between guffaws. “”G -- Good luck to you too… AHAHAHAHA… you… you huge fucking doofus…! HAHAHAHA --”
Camille rolls her eyes as she stashes away her phone, and she briskly walks to the gorilla position just as the announcer makes her introduction. To the crowd’s confusion, the music that plays over the PA speakers isn’t the wailing electric cello that typically heralds the arrival of the Girl of Tomorrow, but the sugary K-pop melodies that accompany Yoona Park. A few seconds later, their befuddlement increases tenfold when it is indeed Camille that steps through the curtains and onto the entrance ramp, only she’s wearing Yoona’s ring gear rather than her own.
Evidently, her Halloween costume for All Hallow’s Evil is simply her own girlfriend.
Park’s spare clothes don’t quite fit Cosworth’s more ample curves, the black and gold-trimmed bustier-style one-piece showing quite a bit more of Camille’s bosom and rump than she would have liked, and she noticeably blushes as the fans loudly voice their appreciation of the more titillating look. She takes a moment or two to flex her fingers and toes, her girlfriend’s leg sleeves and gauntlets leaving her feet bare and her hands covered, an odd inversion from her own wrestling gear. Once Camille gets acclimated to the changes, she starts walking towards the ring while she subconsciously lip-syncs to the song, her command of Yoona’s native tongue now strong enough that she can follow along with the Korean lyrics. She plucks a spare microphone from the announcers’ table as she walks by, then she mounts one corner of the squared circle with a pair of effortless bounds, first from floor to apron and then from apron to top turnbuckle.
“OBSCURE CULTURAL REFERENCE,” Cosworth says loudly into her microphone as she turns to face outwards, causing the perplexed audience to fall into silence. “F BOMB, F BOMB, F BOMB. WHIMSICAL ANECDOTE. MORE F BOMBS. NONSENSICAL HAIKU. SCATOLOGICAL INSULT. BOMBASTIC BOAST. MORE F BOMBS. DELIBERATE MISQUOTE. RANDOM THREAT. PUNCHLINE TO INITIAL OBSCURE CULTURAL REFERENCE. MORE F BOMBS. EPIC PROMOOOOOOOO!”
Clearly, the Girl of Tomorrow had been expecting some sort of crowd reaction, but for the time being, nothing happens.
After a handful of seconds, nothing continues to happen, and Camille feels increasingly self-conscious.
“Awk - waaaaaaarrrrrd...” she whispers to herself in a sing-song voice when it becomes obvious that her satire of Yoona’s oratory style has fallen flat.
Referee Craig Long walks over and flatly informs her, “I just cringed so hard that I sprained my face.”
Cosworth sighs in defeat and tosses the microphone to a nearby ring technician, then she breaks character in the most spectacular way possible. Blessed with aerial aptitude matched by only a very few select flyweights, the Girl of Tomorrow launches from her perch, twisting one hundred eighty degrees around one axis followed by four hundred fifty degrees around another in a textbook Phoenix Splash. Camille adjusts the landing just fractions of a second before impact, so rather than belly-flopping into an empty ring she instead lands in a crouch, and that finally elicits the crowd reaction that she was looking for as the FAWNatics rise as one and roar their approval.
“That’s more like it,” Craig informs her, earning a few chuckles from the daredevil brunette.
“Glad to see your face is okay,” Cosworth ripostes as she playfully pinches the official’s cheeks.
Long starts to garble a response, but he doesn’t get the words out before the ring announcer introduces Camille’s opponent for the evening.
”And her opponent, hailing from San Diego, California, she stands five feet five inches tall and weighs in this evening at a mouth-watering one-hundred and thirty-one pounds… Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Three D… DAAARRRLLLAAA DIIIAAANNNEEE DAAAVVVIIISSS!!!!!”
The buzz of the crowd is broken by a loud, sudden, and very orgasmic "OHHHH..." coming over the PA system, which is soon followed by a similar, "AHHHHH..." Confusion quickly gives way, at least somewhat, as the voice unmistakably belongs to Shirley Manson, the beat of Garbage's "#1 Crush" thumping over the sound system. But that's only part of the equation. Longtime Jungle Dwellers know that this music has long been established as the anthem of the many iterations of the union known as T&AKO.
Apparently, the music was now Davis’ own.
Those in the know about FAWN history immediately start to boo, and the rest of the FAWNatics soon follow their lead. But when the curtains part and a voluptuous young blonde strides into view, the vast majority of those cheers
transform into whistles of appreciation. The Cali blonde saunters down to the ring, her lips curled into a smile — but it’s an expression of predatory intent rather than joyful feelings. While her bosom is currently sheathed in a black -- and oddly inside out -- t-shirt, the garment is unable to suppress the glory of her bounty in any way. Below decks, her undercarriage is encased in a set of purple lycra bikini bottoms with black trim, and black boots tie up the ensemble.
DARLA DIANE DAVIS
As she strides down the entrance ramp and stares down her opponent in the ring, Darla’s smile curdles into a scowl. Not so long ago, Davis had been where Camille Cosworth is now, filling the role of young ingenue with limitless potential. Three D had announced herself to the world at the 2012 edition of FAWNamania with her destruction of Chloe Fields and Cynthia Mitchell, and when she joined with Irma Irons, Rose Evans, and Gabby Mendoza to form the stable of Generation Next, many predicted that her ascension into the upper ranks was inevitable. Indeed, in her most recent outing, Darla had parlayed that potential into a title match against then newly minted World Champion Veronica Treymane, and the SoCal beach babe had come tantalizingly close to claiming the top spot in the federation for herself. Combined with Gabby having dethroned long-reigning lightweight champion Lily Burlingame just the month before, it seemed like Generation Next was Generation Now.
But that was more than a year ago.
Ever since that unsuccessful World Title challenge, Darla’s career had languished. Nagging injuries and a toxic backstage personality had brought a screeching halt to her momentum, and rather than becoming a pay-per-view mainstay, she had instead found herself relegated to dark matches and being loaned out to lesser federations. On top of that, Irma was around less and less frequently as she preferred to ply her violent trade in her native England, the Barely Legal pair of Gabby and Rose self-destructed after Gabby lost her title, and thus Generation Next had been consigned to the history books as Generation Never.
Nevertheless, Darla has a chance to reclaim what was once hers. Crushing the woman standing before her now would give her career a much needed boost, and show the world to whom tomorrow had always truly belonged. The scowl on her face morphs back into a predatory grin as she ascends the ring steps and strides to the middle of the apron before turning her back to the ropes.
There, she waits for one of the ringside camera jockeys to find her. Slowly… aaaaaaaaaaaaagonizingly so… Darla peels the tee up her body, bringing into view the cleavage that had spelled doom for a plethora of girls, magnificently framed by a purple top, knotted between the cups by pink lace. Finally pulling the shirt over her head, Darla looks down into the lens, her smirk only accentuated by her bitten bottom lip…
… and then she tosses the tee over the camera, blacking out the shot.
Three D then pulls herself through the ropes, joining the Irish redhead across the ring, Davis beginning to limber up as the official moves to inspect her. Darla Diane turns to face the buckles, a few fans whistling as she gives her hips a wiggle the further down Craig’s hands descend. In the spirit of helpfulness, the buxom blonde lifts first her left boot and then the right before turning back to face the official--at which point, Three D makes a point of putting her best features forward.
"Go on," Darla purrs, "I DARE you to check 'em..."
“Uhhhh, no thanks. I’m good,” the official mutters before calling for the opening bell to get the match started.
Despite her misgivings towards the beach blonde, Camille strides out to the center of the ring and cautiously extends one arm for a prematch handshake. Darla disdainfully regards the proffered limb for a few seconds, but then she steps forward to tightly grasp her opponent’s hand and reels the brunette in close.
Chest-to-chest and cheek-to-cheek, Davis whispers into Cosworth’s ear, “I don’t even know you, but I despise you. Everything about you makes me sick. The way you pander to the crowd with your spins and your flips. That cloying, shit-eating grin on your face. Even your stupid, knock-off nickname -- Girl of Tomorrow -- what the fuck does that even mean? Newsflash, bitch: you ain’t the future -- I am -- and I’m gonna tear your overhyped monkey-ass apart in front of the whole goddamned world.”
Her hateful diatribe delivered, Darla releases the handshake and gives her opponent a forceful two-handed shove to the shoulders, sending Camille stumbling backwards to the edge of the ring. For her part, the Girl of Tomorrow seems more than a little taken aback by the blonde’s vehement antipathy, and she scrunches her nose and quirks her lips in confusion as she’s unsure of how to respond. After a couple of seconds, Cosworth finally replies with her go-to line for shutting down renowned trash-talkers such as Maddy Crane or even her own girlfriend.
“Yeah, well… that’s just, like, your opinion, maaaaaaaaan.”
Enraged by her opponent’s flippant retort, Three D storms forward with a snarl on her lips. The Girl of Tomorrow meets her halfway, and the pair of wrestlers quickly find themselves locked up in an Elbow and Collar near the center of the ring. For a brief moment, blonde and brunette push against each other, but then Darla’s patience quickly wears thin and she breaks the stalemate with a knee to Camille’s groin. Cosworth doubles over with a raspy wheeze and Craig Long starts to issue a reprimand for the Low Blow, but Davis dismisses the referee with hardly a glance. Instead, she loops her arms around her hunched over opponent’s waist, muscles the brunette up onto her shoulders into the Powerbomb stall position, and drives the Girl of Tomorrow into the deck.
POWERBOMB: www.youtube.com/watch?v=iBF1wWQMJO4
Camille bounces a good six inches from the devastating impact, then she drops back down to the mat with her eyes closed and her back arched as she silently howls in anguish. Darla takes a moment to admire her handiwork as the FAWNatics boo her vociferously, then she gets back to work. The corset-like effect of Yoona’s compression one-piece accentuates Cosworth’s breasts, making them ripe for the picking, and Three D immediately takes advantage by sinking a claw into each. Camille rediscovers her voice when Darla squeezes hard, screaming in pain while she reflexively grips her tormentor’s wrists. Unfortunately, that’s exactly what the blonde powerhouse had wanted, and she lifts Cosworth the dual Breast Claws before Powerbombing her back to the canvas.
Darla’s Beach Bomb hits just as hard as the traditional Powerbomb preceding it, and Camille ends up curled up in a fetal ball after suffering a pair of bone-rattling impacts in the span of ten seconds. She’s not in that position for long before Davis cracks open her shell with a stomp to the ribs, and then Three D pounces into a Crossbody Pin. With a disdainful smirk towards the fans still booing her for that initial crotch shot, Darla nods along with Craig Long for the…
ONE!
TWO!
THR-NO!
Camille shoves a shoulder off the mat with half a second to spare, and the fans collectively let out a sigh of relief. Even so, it seems that’s all their heroine can muster at this moment, and the buxom beach babe promptly hauls her up by a couple handfuls of hair. Three D continues to punish her opponent’s spine and ribcage with a constricting Bearhug, coiling her arms around Cosworth’s midsection and arching backwards to lift the slightly taller Girl of Tomorrow a couple of inches off the ground. Camille gasps and groans when Darla parades around the ring ragdolling her back and forth, though when Long offers her a chance to surrender, she resolutely shakes her head and waves him off. Davis realizes that it’s still too early in the game to squeeze out her opponent, so she retreats to the center of the ring before barreling towards a corner with Cosworth still in her grasps. The brunette is aware of what’s coming but there’s little she can do to stop it, so she just grits her teeth and steels herself moments before she’s forcibly sandwiched between the turnbuckles and her opponent’s body, courtesy of Davis’ Bearhug Splash.
The crushing impact explosively forces the air from Camille’s lungs, and things only get worse from there when Darla steps onto the bottom rope and leans forward to give her a force-feeding of cleavage. Cosworth flails helplessly in the corner until Three D finally relents at Craig’s count of “FOUR!” but the glazed look in her eyes makes it readily apparent that the battered brunette is already in the early throes of jugg-shock.
“Girl of Tomorrow, my ass…” Davis huffs under her breath as she charges at the corner once more, looking to bury Cosworth under another double-D avalanche.
Given just the tiniest bit of breathing room allows Camille to recover, however, and for the first time in the match she manages to put up some semblance of resistance by draping her arms over the ropes and curling her knees to her chest. Darla already has too much momentum to abort, and she ends up smashing her rack against those bony joints. Still on her feet after the collision, Davis turns her back to her opponent and staggers away with her arms protectively swaddling her chest, and in doing so she opens the door for the Girl of Tomorrow to seize control of the match.
Camille takes a brief moment to gather herself, then she sprints out of the corner at her unwitting opponent. She leaps into the air, but rather than sail clear over Darla’s head, she intentionally gives only a three-quarters effort so that the underside of her right thigh catches the back of the blonde’s head. Gravity does the work from there as Cosworth plummets from five feet in the air, mashing Davis’ face into the canvas on the way down with a Leapfrog Leg Drop Bulldog.
LEAPFROG LEG DROP BULLDOG: www.youtube.com/watch?v=yxC69y7zOP0
Three D has the wherewithal to stay prone after the crash landing to prevent an immediate pin, so the Girl of Tomorrow clambers to her feet instead. She starts to haul the splattered blonde up by an arm, though as soon as Darla has her legs underneath her, she fires back with a wild, looping Haymaker at Camille’s face. Cosworth ducks under the blow easily enough, and at the same time she slips her own arm across her opponent’s chest and neck. Camille flexes her knees and starts to power Darla upwards for a hellacious Lifting Side Slam, but her plans go awry when a quick-thinking Davis jabs a thumb into her eye socket. The blinded Girl of Tomorrow is still screeching in pain when Three D lays out on her back to get some measure of revenge by sending Camille face-first into the mat with a Reverse STO.
REVERSE STO: www.youtube.com/watch?v=9aT_XQeAn-Q
The fans groan as their heroine’s resurgence has proven to be short-lived in the face of her opponent’s unsavory tactics. Unlike Cosworth, Davis doesn’t bother rising to her feet, and instead she rolls the brunette over and covers for another pin. Long has to curtail his reprimand for the blatant eye-poke as he drops down to the deck to count out…
ONE!
TWO!
...and to Darla’s frustration, Camille kicks out once again, as her high-flying, daredevil style requires that the Girl of Tomorrow be possessed of a significant resilience against harsh landings.
Muttering a string of vituperation to herself, Three D tries a different tactic. She flips Cosworth to a prone position once more, then steps onto the back of the brunette’s thighs. Camille yips in displeasure as the hard soles of Darla’s boots grind into her hamstrings, and her predicament gets more worrisome when she finds her feet twisted and wedged against her opponent’s shins, thereby immobilizing her lower limbs. Davis reaches down and painfully slaps at her flanks, though for now Cosworth stubbornly keeps her arms out of reach to avoid being trapped in a Romero Stretch. Darla slaps again, and then again, each time harder than the last, and still Camille grits her teeth and maintains the mental fortitude to keep from reaching back.
A growl rumbles in the back of the blonde’s throat, and suddenly, she has an epiphany. She reaches down once more, but instead of a slap, she plants her fingers in Cosworth’s sides and starts wiggling her digits. Camille’s tickle tolerance proves to be nil, and she immediately starts squirming while struggling to suppress a fit of giggles. After about a dozen seconds of the most devastating tickle attack this side of an Upstart slumber party, the Girl of Tomorrow can withstand no more so she finally reaches back with her arms to cover up her soft spots, and she immediately finds her wrists snatched up by her opponent.
“Gotcha now, bitch,” Darla hisses as she drops to a seat and then lays on her back to hoist Camille up into a devastating Romero Stretch.
ROMERO STRETCH: www.youtube.com/watch?v=FhYQoa6bZmw
Cosworth wails long and loud as she feels the strain from her knees to her shoulders and everywhere in between. While limber by normal standards, she had never been one of FAWN’s true bendy-backed contortionists, and for a few seconds she seriously considers calling it a night. Once that initial wave of pain and panic washes over her, however, Camille notices that the hold isn’t quite as tortorous as she remembered from her sparring sessions. It quickly dawns upon her that Yoona’s compression one-piece she had chosen to wear on a whim is alleviating much of the strain on her abdomen and spine. Silently thanking her lucky stars for her fortuitous choice in costume, the Girl of Tomorrow clenches her jaw and squeezes her eyes shut, resolving to ride out Three D’s attempt to wring a submission from her.
Darla jounces her prey up and down in an attempt to convince Camille otherwise, but after another thirty seconds, it becomes evident that she’s only tiring herself out. Davis releases the hold, allowing Cosworth to unceremoniously crumple into a boneless heap on the mat, then the SoCal blonde gets upright and begins pacing the ring, taking deep breaths to recharge her batteries after the exertion of holding her opponent aloft in the Romero Hold.
Meanwhile, Camille rolls to the edge of the ring and drapes one arm over the bottom rope to ensure she’s unmolested as she regroups, alternately rubbing at her back and belly with her free hand. She stays down for as long as referee Craig Long’s count allows, only getting upright to avoid a countout at the last second. Unable to stall any longer, she shuffles forward to engage her opponent in the center of the ring. Darla is clearly in better condition at the moment, and she delivers a pair of unanswered Forearm Smashes to the side of Cosworth’s head, but the brunette catches the third sends Davis running for the ropes with an Irish Whip.
Three D hits the springy steel strand and rebounds, though she hardly makes it two steps into the return trip because the Girl of Tomorrow had been running behind her the whole way. As soon as the SoCal powerhouse turns around, Camille leaps at her legs first, planting both heels into her ample chest and kicking off into backflip before sticking the landing on a picture-perfect Dropsault. The force of the blow sends Darla tumbling over the top rope, and she hits the apron before slopping to the floor. Stunned more than hurt, Davis forces herself upright as soon as possible, and that proves to be a costly error when she straightens up just in time to see Cosworth flying at her over the top rope. The high-flyer soars cleanly over the steel cables, turning a forward somersault in midair before barreling into the blonde with a Tope Con Hilo of truly ludicrous elevation and velocity that brings the FAWNatics to their feet.
TOPE CON HILO: www.youtube.com/watch?v=c5a0m1yuGZk
Darla’s buxom bosom proves to be a more than sufficient crash pad, significantly dampening the normally jarring impact for Camille. Though breathing heavily, the Girl of Tomorrow still manages to find her feet while her opponent is still on hands and knees. She takes a few more seconds to gather her reserves, then she shows off her own power game, bending down to loop her arms around Three D’s waist and gut-wrenching the beach brawler into the Powerbomb position to a smattering of impressed OOOHs from the front row fans. Then Camille pivots to face the ring, and forcefully slams Darla spine-first onto the hard apron to get some payback for the opening moments of the contest.
APRON POWERBOMB: www.youtube.com/watch?v=SOIzGWU3uTg
Somehow staying on the narrow ledge, Davis arches her back spasmodically after the catastrophic collision from the Apron Powerbomb, then Cosworth gives her a two-handed shove to send her rolling back into the ring. Uncharacteristically, the high-flying brunette eschews her customary leap over the top rope to re-enter the ring -- perhaps out of consideration for the punishment she’s already taken in the match -- instead opting to slide in underneath the bottom rope. She crawls over to the wreckage of Three D, lays across Darla’s torso, and hooks a leg for…
ONE!
TWO!
THRE -- NO!
Davis shrugs a shoulder up off the canvas with Long’s hand just a hair’s breadth away from slapping the mat for the third and final time. Camille rises to her haunches and holds up three fingers to the referee, and when Craig firmly shakes his head in the negative, she groans and lays out on her back, massaging her temples between the middle finger and thumb of her right hand.
“Couldn’t just let me have this one, could ya?” she grumbles at her opponent, who at the moment is incapable of responding with anything more than an agonized gurgle.
Despite her grousing, Cosworth is quickly back on task. She gets to her feet, cinches on a tight rear Waistlock, and begins dragging Davis upright as well. Three D swings wildly with a Back Elbow, and when the Girl of Tomorrow ducks under that attempt, Darla whirls around with another eye-poke at the ready, the middle and index fingers of her right hand stretched in a V and rocketing towards Camille’s face. That plan gets foiled as well when Cosworth brings her own right hand vertically in front of the bridge of her nose, the outside edge of her palm hitting the fork between Davis’ extended fingers and stopping the eye-poke with perhaps a centimeter to spare.
Camille grins that grin which Darla hates so much, and she says, “Hah! I can’t believe that worrrrrRRGGGGHH…”
Cosworth’s jubilation is far too premature as Davis promptly punts her the privates, prompting the official to deliver a scathing rebuke and a moratorium on cheap shots under threat of disqualification. Not that any of that helps Camille as she sinks to her knees with her hands clasped between her thighs, though she’s not there for long before Darla scoops her up onto a shoulder. Most of the fans are thinking Power Slam or perhaps Michinoku Driver, but then Three D shifts her burden forward and wraps her arms around Camille’s waist, leaving the Girl of Tomorrow upside down and belly-to-belly with the beach fighter.
Just as the Tombstone Piledriver seems imminent, Cosworth somehow finds it in herself to crunch her left leg towards her stomach and she hits a Hail Mary Knee Strike right to the crown of Darla’s skull. The unexpected headshot instantly renders Davis woozy, and she nearly completes the Tombstone Piledriver anyway simply by letting go of her opponent. Thankfully for the Girl of Tomorrow, she manages to wrap her own arms around Three D’s waist to stay tightly latched to the teetering blonde, and when Darla topples over backwards, Camille manages to get her toes to touch down first onto the mat.
For a moment, the pair of wrestlers are locked in opposite halves of a two person bridge, Davis bent over backwards on bottom and Cosworth bent over forwards on top, then the brunette gathers herself and straightens her back to lift her opponent into the air and reverse their positions from just a couple of seconds ago. Unlike her match with Bianca Simpson, this time Camille doesn’t get cute by trying to pile on reversal after reversal. Darla is far too dangerous of a foe, so Cosworth promptly drops to her knees and spikes the blonde’s cranium into the deck.
TOMBSTONE REVERSAL: www.youtube.com/watch?v=HdgAHXVx3l8
Three D slops to the mat in a splayed out starfish, and Camille quickly presses her palms to that double-D rack for the pin. Every last person in the building is absolutely certain that the Girl of Tomorrow has put away her foe, and they count along with Craig for…
ONE!
TWO!
THR -- NO!
...only to roar with equal parts incredulity and disappointment when Darla narrowly beats the count again by rolling onto her left side to break the pin.
“OH, COME ON!” Camille screeches as she throws up her hands in exasperation, though she quickly regains her composure and quietly mutters, “Ugh… what would Yoona do…”
“Probably stomp her in the face a whole bunch of times,” Long offers, before adding a second later, “Umm… please don’t do that.”
Cosworth doesn’t bother to dignify that with a response beyond a roll of her eyes, though she quickly runs through a mental checklist of her girlfriend’s arsenal and discards the options that she finds either too brutal, too tawdry, or too boring. After a bit of consideration, she realizes that there’s nothing left, and she sighs wearily to no one in particular as she pinches the bridge of her nose in apparent irritation. Nevertheless, she still has a job to finish, even if she can’t quite finish it in-character, so she slaps herself lightly on the cheeks a couple of times as she rises to her feet.
With Darla still discombobulated and seeing stars after the Tombstone Piledriver, Camille reaches down and collects each of her boots under one arm, then she stands up to lift the blonde’s lower body off the mat. Davis wordlessly hisses in protest and futilely claws at the canvas, but there’s little else she can do as Cosworth spins in a circle and drags her along, faster and faster and faster until the centripetal force lifts her entire body into the air. From there, the Girl of Tomorrow needs only a couple more revolutions to hit maximum speed on the Giant Swing, then she shifts her grip without slowing down, releasing Three D’s right leg to double up on the left.
With her entire weight suddenly supported by only her left ankle, the crushing pressure on her tendons and ligaments becomes unbearable, and Darla screams bloody murder as Camille continues to spin her around and around and around by the captured limb. The FAWNatics count as they always do, and once they reach “TWENTY” Cosworth drops to the mat to ground both herself and her opponent before transitioning into the more traditional portion of her Giant Swing and Achilles Lock combination that her supporters in Tomorrow-Morrow Land had dubbed Spin to Win.
SPIN TO WIN: www.youtube.com/watch?v=-PDAVxHny_g
Camille scissors both of her legs around Darla’s left, and she continues to torque back on the foot to grind the bony ridge of her forearm into the vulnerable Achilles Tendon. It’s still a better position for Three D than just a moment ago, however, as being back on the deck means she can start dragging herself towards the safety of the ropes.
“Y -- Y -- You heinous… b -- bitch…” Davis grunts through gritted teeth as she inches her way towards the nearest side of the ring on her elbows. “I’ll… I’ll… get you for nnnnNNRRRAAAGHHH!”
Seeing that her opponent is just a few inches away from the bottom rope, the Girl of Tomorrow pops to her feet and pulls the screaming blonde back to the center of the ring. Then she begins to spin again in a reapplication of the Giant Swing, all the while grinding and grinding and grinding and grinding away at that big tendon in Darla’s left ankle.
“I’M REALLY SORRY ABOUT THIS,” Cosworth calls out mid-swing, talking more loudly than usual to be heard over Three D’s shrieks although somehow still sounding sincere. “DON’T NORMALLY DO SUBMISSIONS ‘CAUSE THEY’RE BORING. I KNOW, I KNOW, IT’S A FUNDAMENTAL PART OF WRESTLING, BUT AS A FAN, I JUST DON’T SEE THE APPEAL, Y’KNOW? YOU’RE JUST WATCHING THE SAME THING FOR HALF A MINUTE OR
MORE -- WHAT’S THE FUN IN THAT? SERIOUSLY, EVERY TIME THAT AMARA WAS WORKING THE CAMEL CLUTCH, I JUST GOT UP AND WENT TO THE --”
“SHUT UP!” Davis screams back. “SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP AND PUT ME DOOOOWWWWWWN!”
Camille does as asked, dropping the pair of wrestlers back to the mat once more, though it’s more due to her own dizziness than Darla’s demands. Still in textbook position to work the Achilles Lock, the Girl of Tomorrow rolls onto her left side and arches her back to pour even more pressure into the hold. Knowing that crawling for the ropes would only result in getting dragged back to square one for another spin cycle in the Giant Swing, Davis instead tries to pry open Cosworth’s thighs to free her leg. When that proves fruitless as well, she lightly claws at the exposed soles of her opponent’s feet in a desperate, last ditch attempt to escape, hoping and praying that the brunette’s funny bone extended beyond just her ribs.
No such luck though.
“That’s not really my spot,” Camille blithely deadpans, not even a ghost of a smile on her face. “Yoona, though… whoo boy... I mean she says she hates it, but I know she actually --”
“I GIVE!” Darla shouts. “I GIVE, NOW LET ME GO!”
Cosworth eases up the pressure at once, then releases completely as soon as the bell rings and the announcer proclaims her the winner. She gets up and allows Craig to raise her hand in victory, tilting her head back and closing her eyes to soak in the cheers for a hard won match against the most dangerous opponent she’s had in some time. Camille doesn’t get to revel for long before her thoughts drift to her girlfriend, and she opens her eyes and turns to the official.
“Hey, Craig. Think I can make it to the Madhouse in time?” she asks, not bothering and not needing to specify ‘in time’ for what.
The man checks his wristwatch, then shakes his head and ruefully answers, “Sorry, Cam. At this hour, even with light traffic, I’m afraid not.”
The Girl of Tomorrow sighs deeply and does some quick mental math. She figures that she has a chance if she rode at “Go to Jail” speeds while dodging in between cars like a maniac on her Kawasaki Ninja, but she ultimately decides against it. Camille gives one final acknowledging nod to the referee and her fallen opponent, then she slips out of the ring and makes a beeline for the lounge to anxiously watch her girlfriend once again do battle with Adelaide Brewster.