Post by dsb on Nov 11, 2018 21:55:06 GMT
When the All Hallows Evil feed next returned it wasn’t to the Madhouse basement or any of the more eccentric rooms located above, no the setting for our next tale of terror was no less than a festive autumnal pumpkin patch, complete with a weather-beaten produce stand to the north, a walls of baled hay to the east and west and stretch of bleachers crammed with FAWNatics to the south. Directly in front of these bleachers was a large muddy patch effectively cordoned off by a horseshoe of some of the most impressively carved jack-o-lanterns you’ve ever laid eyes upon. Standing front and center amidst all these festive accoutrements was referee Craig Long, looking simultaneously curious and worried by what laid in his immediate future.
The answer to that question came into focus when the Announcer’s voice crackled through an old speaker set up on a farmer’s light high above the bleachers. “Ladies and gentlemen the following contest is scheduled for one fall with a twenty minute time limit and it is for the FAWN Intercontinental Championship. Seeing as how tonight’s match takes place in the Madhouse’s very own Pernicious Pumpkin Patch of Peril, there will be no count outs and no disqualifications, meaning there has to be a winner! Introducing first, hailing from Las Vegas, Nevada, she stands at five feet eight inches tall and weighs in at one hundred and thirty-eight pounds, this is SAMMI STOCK!”
SAMMI STOCK:
Kayne’s ‘Gold Digger’ hit the single speaker and while it might’ve lacked the volume of the FAWN arena, it was more than enough to get the crowd worked into a lather before the woman in question appeared from behind the old produce stand. Dressed to the nines in a black silk robe that ended well above the knee, Sammi Stock strode out into the well packed dirt of the Pumpkin Patch looking just as offended as the last time Tex told her she couldn’t max out another Black Card. Utterly disgusted by the low class bumpkins that jeered her from all sides, the Salacious Showgirl made sure to flip each and every one of them the bird before she undid the robe and handed it to the official.
Stripped down to her usual spangly gold-dusted two piece and black boots, Stock told Craig, “Careful with this, idiot. It costs more than your house and if it has to be dry cleaned you’ll be living on ramen until next Halloween.”
Long certainly didn’t want that, so he accepted the garment with all due diligence before taking it over to a FAWN tech well removed from the dust and clamor of the action. Lips twisted in a moue of incredulous disgust, the leggy blonde stunner put her hands on her hips and shouted, “Get out here, Collins! I don’t wait for trash, I burn it!”
This proclamation got an ‘OOOOHHHH!’ from the crowd and a crackle from the speaker, which started in with ‘Shine Down’ even as the Announcer noted, “And her opponent, hailing from Jackson, Tennessee, she stands at five feet ten inches tall and weighs in at one hundred and forty-eight pounds. She is the Witch of Razorback Holler… HARLEY JO COLLINS!”
HARLEY JO COLLINS:
Those assembled looked to the produce stand once more, so they were pleasantly surprised when the IC champ appeared out of the dusk just to the left of the bleachers. Already down to nothing but her standard black two-piece, matching boots and the leather and gold of her Intercontinental Title, the Vicious Volunteer swatted a few hands before heading around the jack-o-lanterns to reach Craig and the challenger. Raising the strap one-handed when Sammi got all up in her business, Collins murmured, “Gonna wanna back it up a little, darlin’. Less you want to get dirtier a little earlier than scheduled.” Stock seemed to have no problem with this arrangement, but Long slipped a hand between the two leggy battlers and bade them create some space while he took possession of the title and went through the last of his pre-match checks.
Cast as both timekeeper and referee for this particular venue, Craig Long shooed his charges take a few steps back and when they did he hustled over to the bell mounted near the front of the ramshackle produce stand at the north end of the lot. Looking a little unsure of himself, he grabbed the short length of rope hanging from the clapper and gave it a quick shake that produced an appropriately eerie series of CLANGS!
This got a cheer from the small crowd, an amused smile from the champion and an irritated scowl from the challenger, who looked patently unimpressed with both the stipulation and the opposition despite giving up two inches and ten pounds to the latter.
“So how much corn liquor did you shell out to get a pigsty so favorable to your miserable way of life?” Stock looked around at the hay bales, the scarecrows and the hundreds of pumpkins and almost shuddered in disgust. “If you wanted to roll around in the slop I could’ve booked us the Mud Pit in the Madhouse. It’s an exact replica of the one from the Tropicana and it’d allow me to humiliate your bony ass in air conditioned comfort!”
Collins wanted to glance around however she didn’t quite take her eyes off the leggy blonde veteran. Stock might ‘play’ dumber than a bag of hammers, but she herself had preyed on people’s expectations in the past and she wasn’t about to lower her defenses. Instead she replied, “Sorry to disappoint darlin’, but this was chosen by the caprices of the Wheel, not little ‘ol me. But if it’s a roll in the mud you’re after…” Harley Jo cocked her head in the direction of a particularly mucky stretch of ground ringed by a score of glowing Jack O’ Lanterns, “I’m more’n happy to scuff up your pretty little ass.”
Simultaneously nauseated and infuriated at the notion, Sammi stomped over to the IC champ and got all up in her business, Stock advancing so aggressively it forced Collins to chest back so as not to cede any ground. “Try it and see what happens you trashy bytch.” the blonde sneered. “Get tacky with me and I’ll make sure you’re squealing like a pig by the time I put that title around my UNNNGGGHH!”
Collins created some distance with a shove strong enough to earn an ‘ooooooohhhhh!’ from those assembled. “Watch your mouth, arm candy.” the brunette cooed. “Or I’ll stuff it full of mud before I wash it out with so--”
CRAAACK!
Sammi slapped her across the mouth, then snatched a wrist and took a giant step backward just so she could twissssssssst Collins’s arm in a wide circle. Stock stamped her feet at the end of the first rotation, spun through another and pushed up on Harley Jo’s arm until the Tennessee Terror doubled over to relieve some of the pressure. “Don’t you dare threaten that Jerry Springer shyt with me!” the blonde commanded in the midst of wrenching her foe’s wrist. “I’ve won house championships at the most prestigious casinos on the planet, I’m not about to let you sully my good name by losing in this glorified flea markEEEERRRRHHHHHH!”
Harley Jo curled her free hand into a claw and jammed her thumb into the challenger’s navel. Not a fight ender this early of course, but it kept Stock quiet as she endured the five-pointed belly burn. “Funny hearin’ you talk about you name like it actually means something.” Collins murmured as she continued to tenderize Stock’s tummy. “Ain’t nobody in FAWN doesn’t know you got it and everything else you own from that decrepit husband of OOOOOOFFFFHHH!”
Sammi halved the Arm Wringer so she could snatch a handful of hair, which she then used to hold the brunette steady for a heavy Kneelift THUMPED against Collins’s ribs. HJC shuffled away or at least tried to, she made it all of half a step before Stock doubled down on the hair-hold and drilled a quick Kneelift into the side of her skull. That put Harley Jo up on her heels, at least until Sammi whipped around, helped herself to a Three Quarters Facelock and flipped the taller woman onto her tush with a textbook Snapmare! Using a handful of hair to help keep Collins under control, Stock reared back with her free hand, then clamped down on the vulnerable meat between her rival’s neck and left right shoulder. Harley Jo grimaced, reached for the blonde’s hands but Sammi shifted her positioning and pushed down even harder, forcing the IC champ to stretch out on her left side.
“Oh yeah, I’m supposed to be scared of your claws, isn’t that right?” Stock teased. “Well guess what, honey? I’m not! Well, that’s not true. I’d hate to get an infection from any of that grime and filth you’ve got caked under therOOOOOWWW TRAMP!”
The Witch of Razorback Holler paid back like with like, in this case a monstrous hank of hair that had Sammi’s eyes watering in pain and anger.
“Enjoy this while it lasts, sweetheart.” Collins grunted. “Because I’ll have you’ll covered in grime and filth before this match is ovGUUURRRHHK!” The Salacious Showgirl relinquished her Nerve Claw in favor of what at first looked to be a thumbs up directed at the nearest FAWNatics. Unfortunately for Harley Jo this was not the case, as she promptly discovered when Stock jammed the tip of her thumb into the hollow of the brunette’s throat, then cinched her left arm around that wrist and reefed back as hard as she could!
GOLDEN SPIKE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=fNRyTGwdT_c
Golden Spike planted deep, Sammi jostled the hold for several painful, gurgling seconds, then looked around until she spied Craig Long. “Get over here, idiot!” she demanded. “This slut is going to submit at any second!”
Craig doubted that very much, but he made his way over to the action and asked, “What do you say, Harl? Need me to--” Collins steadied herself just long enough to raise a middle finger inches from the ref’s nose. “That settles that.” Long muttered.
“The hell it does!” Stock yoked up on the Spike, drawing an unpleasant gurgle from the champion. “If she doesn’t want to tap out I’ll leave little Miss Piggy here facedown and drooling in the diRRROOOOOOWWW! HAIR! HAIR!”
Harley Jo did indeed have a double handful of hair, which she used to clamber to one knee. Craig tried to explain that disqualifications were nonexistent in the Perilous Pumpkin Patch of Pain, however his words fell on deaf ears because Stock was too busy trying to maintain the Golden Spike and Collins was focused on regaining her feet, or possibly just removing a great patch of the challenger’s scalp. Ultimately both wrestlers were successful (well, except for the scalping part) but neither condition lasted very long because the Vicious Volunteer immediately looped an arm around the back of Sammi’s head and dropped to one knee, all the better to THUMP the blonde’s chin with a makeshift Jawbreaker!
The counter broke Sammi’s grasp but didn’t take her down, she simply reeled on the spot, arms windmilling in an effort to steady her balance. She’d just about done so when Collins reached up, grabbed hold of her hair and pulled the reeling blonde down gut-first atop her right shoulder. Hands knotted snug against the small of the challenger’s back, Harley Jo got to her feet and turned in a circle so the audience could get a good glimpse of Sammi’s predicament. “Pretty good at the tough talk when you’re all spit polished and shining. Lets see how it goes once you’ve been rolled in the dirt a bit.”
OVER THE SHOULDER GUTBUSTER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=GfgR_d6AZIY
With that Collins kicked her feet back and dropped to her knees, all the better to THWHUMP Sammi’s tummy into the point of her shoulder. Stock flipped off the champion’s lanky frame and landed hard on one side only for HJC to stretch her out flat on her back so she could slide in for a Crossbody good for the…
ONE…
TWO…
Sammi yanked her leg free of the champ’s clutches and rolled onto her side with a full second to spare. “Ohhh, you’re going to regret that, bytch.” the blonde huffed as she maneuvered to a seat. “My dry cleaning bills are coming out of the loser’s pursUUUUGGGGGGGHHHH!”
Collins wasn’t the first word in Technical Wrestling, but the big brunette had a far better ground game than most fans (or foes) seemed to realize, as Stock was forcibly reminded when the champion slid in from behind and cinched both legs around her waist. Hands braced against the well-packed dirt, Harley Jo squeeeeeeeeeeeezed for several seconds before alternating future constrictions with occasional hip thrusts. “Damn girl, that purse is going to be pretty small if you spend it all on getting yourself cleaned up. Might have to go to Tex and ask for an advance on your allowNGH! NGH! EERRRRGGGGHHH!”
Never one to take an opponent’s trash talk in silence, Sammi pounded a pair of stereo elbows into Collins’s thighs, then clasped her hands and began grinding against the sides of those encroaching knees in an effort to loosen the Scissors. “Allowances are for toddlers and welfare leeches like you.” Stock sneered. “But if you must know I’m sure my doting husband will treat us to a week in Ibiza if I make your skinny ass beg for mercy in front of the whole OOOOOOOWWWW BYTCH!”
The Vicious Volunteer wasn’t one to tolerate much back-sass either, which was why she wrapped her arms around Sammi’s torso, crossed her hands in an ill-intentioned ‘X’ and dug into the blonde’s breasts! “That’s right darlin’, I’m the meanest bytch you’ve ever met in your goddamned life, so maybe you wanna remember that and give up before I decide to drag your sniveling face along every rough surface I can NNNNGGGGHHHH!”
Stock snapped her head back, catching the brunette between the eyes with the base of her skull. It put an end to the Claws and loosened the Scissors, but rather than power her way free Sammi pressed down on the champ’s knees and got her own knees under her so she could slooooooooooowly turn to face her attacker. “I can’t believe it, you’re even less impressive up close.” she sneered. “How you EVER got your grubby little hands on the Intercontinental Title is beyond AAARRRRHHHH!”
Harley Jo replied with a retaliatory Headbutt to the bridge of the nose, then tacked on a mean-spirited Iron Claw that mashed the palm of her hand against the challenger’s already stinging nose. “Something tells me there’s a great deal in this world that’s beyond you, Sammi.” the Tennessee Terror chided as she dug her nails into Stock’s hairline. “The Intercontinental Title is just the lateSSUUUUUGGGGGHHHH!” Sammi earned an ‘oooohhhhh’ and a grudging round of applause from the FAWNatics when she escalated hostilities with a Bear Hug that glued both women together in a furious tummy-on-tummy clinch!
Well aware that there were no less than three submissions in play at the moment, Craig moved as close to the action as he dared before asking, “How you ladies doing? Do you need me to call for the--” Their replies weren’t identical (Harley’s used f*ck as a noun, Sammi’s made it a verb) but the spirit was identical so the referee cleared off without another word.
“Give it up, Stock.” Collins demanded a few seconds later. “While you can still walk out of here. Because if you pass out I’m not letting you leave until Gladiatrix has had it’s filWHOOOAAAH DAMMIT!”
Credit the power of one Sammi Stock as she got to her feet despite the noticeable handicap of Iron Claw and Bodyscissors. Anything like a cogent verbal response was out of the question thanks to those agonizing holds, yet the Salacious Showgirl managed to speak volumes when she stamped in a half circle and broke into a shambling run! In truth she’d been aiming for wall of hay bales, but her aim was off by almost a full ninety degrees. Their actual destination proved even more effective, as she SLAMMED the small of Harley Jo’s back into the edge of the counter that ran along the front of that ancient produce stand!
The Iron Claw disintegrated on impact, but damned if Collins didn’t boost her way onto the counter so she could administer another rib-crunching squeeze! “Good show, arm candy. Just not good enough to get it done out EERRRHH NNNNNGGGGHHHH!”
Stock tore her off the counter, backed off a few steps and TWHUNKED Harley Jo’s vulnerable back for the second time in less than a minute. This finally proved a death-knell for the Scissors, which popped open in time with a great rasping inhalation from the challenger. There was no time to celebrate though, as Stock muscled the Vicious Volunteer onto the counter and slammed her forehead into Collins’s chest. Prizing herself away from Harley Jo like an inmate tearing free of a straightjacket, Sammi celebrated her freedom with a CRAAACKING backhand and a double handful of dark hair.
“You disgusting slob! How dare you treat me so poorly!” Stock dimmed the brunette’s lights with another stiff Headbutt, then halved her hair-hold so she could muscle Collins’s legs onto the counter. For a moment she was sorely tempted to just dump the other woman off the far end and be done with it, instead she maneuvered the taller grappler so she was parallel to the counter and stretched her out flat, all the better to wrap both hands around HJC’s throat. Harley’s eyes went wide and she immediately buried a hand in the blonde’s hair in an effort to tear her way free of the stranglehold. But Stock was not to be denied after such prolonged suffering in the dirt so she yanked Collins’s head up and BWUNKED it against the splintering wood not once, not twice, but half a dozen times!
“Yeah, that’s right! Get your filthy hands off me!” the Salacious Showgirl cackled even as she braved tetanus, cholera and lord knew what else as she mounted the counter to straddle the champion’s waist. Delighted to finish this disgusting miscreant with the same move that’d made her the most feared name on the Vegas Strip for more than a decade, Stock only pulled her eyes away from Harley Jo’s to bark, “GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE, REF! SHE’S PASSED OUT!”
Collins’s kicking feet and clawing hands told Craig that this was patently untrue, yet he hurried over to the action and said, “All right Sammi let--”
“Ring the bell, idiot! Can’t you see she’s unconscious?!”
“Sammi, she’s raking your shoulders right now, that’s not muscle memory!”
Stock rolled her eyes, then replied like she was dealing with a particularly dense child. “Fine, she’s not unconscious. But her shoulders are down! Count!”
“Get your hands off her throat and I will!” Stock sighed in disgust, but did as bade if only to stake claim to the flailing brunette’s wrists. Pinning them high overhead, she hopped forward and came down with the fork of her crotch nice n’ snug atop the IC champ’s features. Craig swung around in front of his charges to confirm the cover, then pounded the counter…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOOO!
Harley Jo kicked her legs up, hooked them under Stock’s armpits and tugged her backward for what would’ve been a Sunset Flip if the blonde hadn’t somersaulted off the edge of the counter! A cheer rose from the crowd only to die just as quickly because the gold-clad blonde landed on one knee and returned to verticality without missing a beat. “Not going to be that easy, bumpkin!” Stock grabbed hold of Harley Jo’s ankles and yanked her across the counter so she could cinch her arms around her knees. “You wanted to fight in this nauseating hellhole? Well you’re going to get your wish!”
With that she tore Collins away from her splintery perch and twisted to one side so the big brunette landed awkwardly on the back of her head and shoulders. Stunned in the aftermath of that unpleasant drop, Harley Jo nevertheless found the energy to reach up, presumably to rake her attacker’s thigh or possibly grab onto her waistband. Whatever the intent, it all came to naught when Sammi hoisted her off the dirt and swung in a nasty half circle that THWHACKED the IC champion against the weather beaten front of that damnable produce stand! The FAWNatics groaned in sympathy as Collins tried to protect her head and shoulder, then they just groaned when Stock swung the big brunette back the way she’d came to treat her other shoulder to the same splintering treatment!
PRODUCE STAND PUMMELING:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=9xNYL3yfxpE
Knowing damned well that the Salacious Showgirl wasn’t going to stop anytime soon (because she’d have done the same were their positions reversed) HJC swaddled her head in both arms and clenched her jaw tight while Sammi THWHACKED her against the makeshift barricade no less than half a dozen times. Stock’s final swing ended at the halfway point, not to say that she slung Collins away, as nothing was further from the truth. Rather she let the battered brunette skid into the dirt, then folded Harley Jo’s legs up over her head and dropped down into a snug seat atop her opponent’s upturned thighs. A technically perfect of the Alligator Clutch to be sure, though Stock made sure to put her own tawdry stamp on it by running both hands through her hair while the ref counted…
ALLIGATOR CLUTCH:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=n1_hyqoFGwU
ONE…
TWO…
Collins powered free just after ‘TWO!’ sending the blonde sprawling forward onto her hands and knees.
“Come on!” Stock hurried to boot-leather and stomped over to Craig Long, swatting the back of one hand into her palm as she did so. “ONE! TWO! THREE! It’s over, that belt belongs to me!”
“Only when I make the three count, Sammi.” Long replied. “You want the belt? Finish her off.”
“I’ll do more than that.” the blonde sniffed. “I’ll make sure she never shows her face on a FAWN show again!”
Circling back to her recovering adversary, Stock made a point of rubbing her dusty hands in Harley Jo’s face before she hauled her up with a double handful of hair. An arm between the legs allowed Sammi to scoop her burden up onto one shoulder and walk her back into the shadow of the produce stand. The Body Slam that followed left Collins starfished in the dirt, thus giving the challenger all the time she needed to climb her way onto the counter. Hands on her hips, Stock perused her surroundings before training a disappointed eye on the flattened brunette. “It’s not the Bellagio, but it’s not the WORST place to humiliate a piece of piece of backwoods garbage.” With that she leapt off the counter and kicked both legs forward, the gammy gold digger bringing down hear near one hundred and forty pounds down across Harley’s clavicle courtesy of a big Leg Drop. Collins’s stems kicked up with the force of the landing so Stock hooked the near one in a Half Matchbook and drew it tight while Craig counted off…
DIVING LEG DROP:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=MbIBb6mVT1M
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOOO!
The Vicious Volunteer demonstrated some of the resilience that’d let her withstand the onslaught of Hot & Bothered by kicking free of Stock’s grip with half a second to spare.
Increasingly irritated with every new near fall, Sammi hurried to her feet and proceeded to stamp away at Harley’s tummy and chest until the lanky battler managed to roll onto her hands and knees. “Oh, so you’re still trying to play tough, are you?” Stock slapped the back of Collins’s noggin half a dozen times before she grabbed some hair. “Let’s how tough you are when you can’t even breathe.”
Harley started to reply, but Sammi hit her with a quick Hip Check to the mush, then hauled her up and muscled her across blonde shoulders in a Fireman’s Carry. “Take a good look at this, you redneck reprobates!” Sammi demanded of the crowd as she turned in a slow circle. “This is what ALWAYS happens when trash comes up against clasSSEEERRRROOOOWWWWW!”
The Tennessee Terror jabbed the point of one elbow into the side of Stock’s head, then tacked on a long, mean-spirited rake of the challenger’s eyes! Vision reduced to seasonal fall sworls, Sammi forgot all about the Boop-A-Doop, in fact she barely registered the change in pressure when Collins slithered off her shoulders. Understanding returned once HJC clamped down on a wrist and swung her in a looping arc all the better to hurl the challenger at--NO! Stock dug her heels in, grabbed a Wristlock of her own and flung Collins at a low ‘wall’ of hay bales that had to be twenty feet long and ten feet high.
Far more concerned by her blurred vision than the brunette’s trajectory, Sammi turned away to rub at bleary eyes and didn’t look up until a cheer from the assembled losers told her something was amiss. Sure enough she was greeted by the sight of Harley Jo Collins hoisting the jack ‘o lantern she’d almost knocked from its perch in her collision with the hay. “That thing’s not gonna help you keep the title.” Sammi sniffed. “It doesn’t even have a manager’s license.”
“Real bad luck to blow out a jack ‘o lantern too soon on Halloween night, darlin’.” Harley said softly. “All sorts of bad things can happen to people that don’t respect the old ways.”
“Oh puuuuhleeeeeeeeeaasse!” Stock sneered. “The only tradition you need to worry about is how badly am I going to beat your ass whenever a major holiday rolls aroWHOOAAH!”
Collins hurled her prize Headless Horseman style, the heavy gourd-inance flying straight at Sammi’s midr--’OOOOOOOHHHHH!’
Sammi earned a round of impressed albeit grudging applause for catching the jack ‘o lantern like it was the world’s spookiest medicine ball! Too disgusted to consider returning the affront in kind, the Salacious Showgirl spat, “Did you just… throw a pumpkin at NNNNNNGGGGGHH!” Harley Jo charged, whipped her right leg up and damn near kicked Stock’s head deep into the Pumpkin Patch with a hellacious Big Boot!
BIG BOOT:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=87emoSVadZo
“As I was sayin’,” Collins drawled after she’d handled the well traveled jack ‘o lantern off to Craig Long, “All sorts of bad things can happen to a body that doesn’t respect traditions.”
Sammi offered no response to that, so the champ helped herself to some blonde locks and scraped her out of the dirt. More than a little irked by the way she’d let the gold digger tee off on her for the last few minutes, Harley muscled Stock onto her shoulder like she was setting for another Gutbuster, however instead of dropping to her knees she wheeled around and took off toward the wall of baled hay! There was a scratchy sort of THWHUMP when Collins slammed her opponent’s back against the bales followed by a much heavier THUD after she spun around and planted Sammi flat on her back with a farm fresh twist on the Oklahoma Stampede!
OKLAHOMA STAMPEDE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=nLPP5Bxnh6c
Stock sat up, then tumbled onto one side, the woozy blonde trying to keep off her back in case the champ went for a pin. Turned out she was safe for the moment because Collins got to her feet without even considering a cover. Instead she walked back to hay wall, reached up and managed to pull down a single bale. “Harley, I don’t mean to spoil your fun, but there’s no way you’re gonna be able to swing that-- oh, you’re not swinging it. Carry on.” Long took a step back once Harley Jo turned the bale and set it on its narrow side.
Satisfied with this arrangement, the Witch of Razorback Holler returned her attention to Sammi Stock, though she spared the official a knowing look as she strode by. “Interested in placing a wager on just how many ways I can use that thing as a weapon?”
“No ma’am, I like my money.”
Harley smirked as she leaned over and cupped Stock’s ears. “Bless your heart, don’t you like tired? I’m almost sorry to tell you we’re not quite done yet.”
Sammi answered with something rude involving the champ’s lineage and followed it with a few punches to the belly, alas she was still woozy following Harley Jo’s hellacious hay ride and she earned nothing more than a Kneelift between the eyes for her efforts. Thus allowed to hoist her burden in peace, Collins muscled Stock to boot leather, then dropped a shoulder and muscled the leggy blonde into a Fireman’s Carry. This brought several cheers and a cry of ‘Airplane Spin!’ from some of those assembled FAWNatics, but HJC shook her head ‘no’ as she closed in on the recently rearranged bale of hay.
“Spinning a girl on ground like this is just askin’ for a twisted ankle.” she explained. “Don’t worry none, I got something in mind that you’re going to EEEERRRRHHHHH!” Stock snatched a handful of the big brunette’s hair and yanked hard enough to make her eyes water. “Put me down you inbred piece of trash!” the Salacious Showgirl demanded. “Right this instant or I’ll make sure Tex buys and paves over your precious hollOOOOFFFFFFHHH!”
Collins pushed Stock off her shoulders as she rose up on tiptoe, then dropped to one knee to THWHUMP the challenger’s toned tummy across her posted thigh. The Gutbuster nearly folded Sammi in half and surely would’ve left her writhing in the dirt if Collins hadn’t resumed her hooks and hauled Stock back into the Fireman’s Carry. “As I was saying before that thoughtless interruption,” Harley Jo was in front of the upended hay brick after a few long strides, “I’ve got something in mind that I think you’ll appreciate.” The crowd knew better than to doubt the imagination of the Vicious Volunteer, so they stayed quiet until Collins braced a hand at sternum and thigh and lifted Sammi into the purpling sky with a gorgeous Military Press! This show of strength raised the kind of applause Harley Jo would’ve expected, but it didn’t really grow raucous until she tossed Stock into a short, unpleasant freefall that ended with her THWHUMPING down gut-first atop the baled hay!
Folded in half around Harley’s autumnal arsenal, Stock slid off one side, hit the ground with a soft thud and flopped onto her back with both arms crisscrossed over her hitching be-- Collins dropped to her knees, cinched her arms around Sammi’s knees and folded her in half with a Back Press good for…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOOO!
Stock kicked out, ending Craig’s count half a heartbeat shy of ‘THREE!’ HJC sat up, started to double check the count, then decided to bury that hand in Sammi’s hair instead. “You been a damned fine sport about fightin’ out of doors. Can’t say I was expecting that from an entitled stick of arm candy such as yourself, but it’s a pleasant surprise nonetheless.” the Tennessee Terror told her gagging opposition as she returned the both of ‘em to verticality, then set off for the muddy patch that made up the southern side of the Perilous Pumpkin Patch of Pain.
Drawing up on the far side of the muck so as to offer those in the bleachers the best possible view, Harley Jo wedged a knee into Stock’s gut and reeled her into a Standing Headscissors. “In fact darlin’, you’ve been such a good sport that I think it only fair to reward you with some of that high class mud wrestlin’ you were harping on about earlier. How’s that sound?”
Sammi’s only answer was a low gurgle, the FAWNatics on the other hand offered up the most spirited of cheers, especially when Collins slipped her hands under Stock’s biceps and jerked them up over her torso in a Double UnderhoNO! Sammi spun out of the brunette’s trap before Harley Jo could lock her hands. Posted up on her foe’s left, Stock grabbed that wrist and slung HJC’s arm across her shoulders just prior to snugging her arms around Collins’s waist. Just like that she popped her hips and took Harley Jo up, over and down, the IC Champ SPLAT-THWHAPPED onto the back of her head and shoulders with a flawless Saito Suplex! Sammi maintained her bridge despite the uneven ground so the ref swooped in beside the action and counted off…
SAITO SUPLEX:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=wApOoxW-DXY
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOOOOOOO!
Cheers from the bleacher folks and a shriek of disgust from the challenger when Collins slid-slorped onto her side at the last possible second. Horrified by the fate she’d so narrowly escaped, Stock clambered to her feet and drove a hard stomp into Harley Jo’s ribs. “Yuuuhhh… you were going to deposit ME in this… this… this FILTH? You hateful bumpkin, the mud used in the Vegas pits is straight from the greatest spas in the world! Even a loser who gets her ass beat the whole night will at least, at LEAST emerge with a glowing complexion. But this, THIS is probably nothing more than castoff hog slop, redneck sweat and lord knows what else!”
Sammi took a deep breath, almost ran a hand through her hair before she realized it was slick with the disgusting glop. “Actually…” she said with a slow, calculating smile. “This is the only place suitable of finishing off a pig like you.”
More than happy to twine her mud-slimed hands into Harley Jo’s hair, Sammi scraped the Witch of Razorback Holler off the ground only to double her over with a Toe Kick that pointed her rump straight at the fans. From there she wedged Collins’s noggin between her thighs and set about teasing the morons with a tawdry little bump n’ grind administered to the back of her foe’s neck. It earned several keening wolf whistles and a scattered round of applause that got even louder when she hooked HJC’s briefs in one hand and yanked ‘em up several inches higher. Stock beamed at her newfound supporters, raised both hands to blow them a kiss, then turned it into identical middle fingers instead. “As if I need anything from you!” she sneered to the now jeering throng. “You belong down in the slop with this pig and if you don’t back the hell up I might just slam bury you alongside WHOOOOAAAAAAAUUUUGGGGGHHHH!”
Harley Jo straightened up like a cottonmouth strikes, which is to say, fast and with no warning whatsoever. Unprepared for this abrupt shift, Stock was flung over the champion’s head to THAWHAP down flat on her back! Eyes wide with shock and disgust in the wake of this most unfortunate turn, Sammi wailed like a klaxon siren as she scrambled to her feet and made a mad lunge for the recovering brune--“OOOFFFH!” Collins folded the Salacious Showgirl over with a Toe Kick of her own and immediately transitioned to a Standing Headscissors. Locking her arms around Stock’s midriff, she flipped the big blonde upside down and held her there just long enough to let Sammi and the audience think about what came next. Then she dropped onto her butt and SPLU-THWHUNKED the crown of Stock’s noggin into the mat with a huge Piledriver!
PILEDRIVER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mbv785KL2Ss
Sammi bounced from the landing to wind up in another muddy sprawl, only this time there was no scrambling return to her feet because Harley Jo swung one long leg over and sat down hard on the blonde’s modest bosom. “Urrrhhhh… guuuuhhhh… get offa meAAAAAARRRRRRHHHHHHH!”
Sammi’s soft protestations grew into an ear-rending shriek once the champ curled both hands into claws and dug them deep into the blonde’s defenseless belly!
Nodding in approval as Stock’s heels carved deep divots in the sludge, Harley Jo went to work with both thumbs like she meant to gouge right on through the challenger’s navel. “You’re not soundin’ too good, darlin’.” Collins purred over Stock’s wails. “Too bad we don’t have any of that fancy west coast mineral mud you were talking about earlier. Maybe you’d be doin’ a little bett--”
Sammi slapped at the brunette’s flank, then the mud as she wailed, “I SUBMIT! I SUBMIT! NOW GET YOUR FILTHY HANDS OFFA MEEEEOOOOOHHHHH STAAAAAAAAAAHHHHP!”
Harley Jo leaaaaaaaaned into her grip as the bell sounded and added a few mean little bounces to emphasize the Announcer’s confirmation. “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner via submission and STILL the FAWN Intercontinental Champion… HARLEY JO COLLINS!”
The victorious Witch got to her feet, but rather than accept the strap from Craig Long she stomped over to the line of jack o’ lanterns that ringed the far edge of the mud patch and picked the creepiest one she could find. Thusly satisfied, she strode back to Sammi and set the heavy gourd on her stomach. This delighted the crowd, as did the boot Collins placed atop it when she finally hoisted the IC belt overhead. “From the ring to the penthouse, from the back alley to the pumpkin patch, you ladies have a favorite place to get your asses whooped? Just lemme know and I’ll make it happen.”
The answer to that question came into focus when the Announcer’s voice crackled through an old speaker set up on a farmer’s light high above the bleachers. “Ladies and gentlemen the following contest is scheduled for one fall with a twenty minute time limit and it is for the FAWN Intercontinental Championship. Seeing as how tonight’s match takes place in the Madhouse’s very own Pernicious Pumpkin Patch of Peril, there will be no count outs and no disqualifications, meaning there has to be a winner! Introducing first, hailing from Las Vegas, Nevada, she stands at five feet eight inches tall and weighs in at one hundred and thirty-eight pounds, this is SAMMI STOCK!”
SAMMI STOCK:
Kayne’s ‘Gold Digger’ hit the single speaker and while it might’ve lacked the volume of the FAWN arena, it was more than enough to get the crowd worked into a lather before the woman in question appeared from behind the old produce stand. Dressed to the nines in a black silk robe that ended well above the knee, Sammi Stock strode out into the well packed dirt of the Pumpkin Patch looking just as offended as the last time Tex told her she couldn’t max out another Black Card. Utterly disgusted by the low class bumpkins that jeered her from all sides, the Salacious Showgirl made sure to flip each and every one of them the bird before she undid the robe and handed it to the official.
Stripped down to her usual spangly gold-dusted two piece and black boots, Stock told Craig, “Careful with this, idiot. It costs more than your house and if it has to be dry cleaned you’ll be living on ramen until next Halloween.”
Long certainly didn’t want that, so he accepted the garment with all due diligence before taking it over to a FAWN tech well removed from the dust and clamor of the action. Lips twisted in a moue of incredulous disgust, the leggy blonde stunner put her hands on her hips and shouted, “Get out here, Collins! I don’t wait for trash, I burn it!”
This proclamation got an ‘OOOOHHHH!’ from the crowd and a crackle from the speaker, which started in with ‘Shine Down’ even as the Announcer noted, “And her opponent, hailing from Jackson, Tennessee, she stands at five feet ten inches tall and weighs in at one hundred and forty-eight pounds. She is the Witch of Razorback Holler… HARLEY JO COLLINS!”
HARLEY JO COLLINS:
Those assembled looked to the produce stand once more, so they were pleasantly surprised when the IC champ appeared out of the dusk just to the left of the bleachers. Already down to nothing but her standard black two-piece, matching boots and the leather and gold of her Intercontinental Title, the Vicious Volunteer swatted a few hands before heading around the jack-o-lanterns to reach Craig and the challenger. Raising the strap one-handed when Sammi got all up in her business, Collins murmured, “Gonna wanna back it up a little, darlin’. Less you want to get dirtier a little earlier than scheduled.” Stock seemed to have no problem with this arrangement, but Long slipped a hand between the two leggy battlers and bade them create some space while he took possession of the title and went through the last of his pre-match checks.
Cast as both timekeeper and referee for this particular venue, Craig Long shooed his charges take a few steps back and when they did he hustled over to the bell mounted near the front of the ramshackle produce stand at the north end of the lot. Looking a little unsure of himself, he grabbed the short length of rope hanging from the clapper and gave it a quick shake that produced an appropriately eerie series of CLANGS!
This got a cheer from the small crowd, an amused smile from the champion and an irritated scowl from the challenger, who looked patently unimpressed with both the stipulation and the opposition despite giving up two inches and ten pounds to the latter.
“So how much corn liquor did you shell out to get a pigsty so favorable to your miserable way of life?” Stock looked around at the hay bales, the scarecrows and the hundreds of pumpkins and almost shuddered in disgust. “If you wanted to roll around in the slop I could’ve booked us the Mud Pit in the Madhouse. It’s an exact replica of the one from the Tropicana and it’d allow me to humiliate your bony ass in air conditioned comfort!”
Collins wanted to glance around however she didn’t quite take her eyes off the leggy blonde veteran. Stock might ‘play’ dumber than a bag of hammers, but she herself had preyed on people’s expectations in the past and she wasn’t about to lower her defenses. Instead she replied, “Sorry to disappoint darlin’, but this was chosen by the caprices of the Wheel, not little ‘ol me. But if it’s a roll in the mud you’re after…” Harley Jo cocked her head in the direction of a particularly mucky stretch of ground ringed by a score of glowing Jack O’ Lanterns, “I’m more’n happy to scuff up your pretty little ass.”
Simultaneously nauseated and infuriated at the notion, Sammi stomped over to the IC champ and got all up in her business, Stock advancing so aggressively it forced Collins to chest back so as not to cede any ground. “Try it and see what happens you trashy bytch.” the blonde sneered. “Get tacky with me and I’ll make sure you’re squealing like a pig by the time I put that title around my UNNNGGGHH!”
Collins created some distance with a shove strong enough to earn an ‘ooooooohhhhh!’ from those assembled. “Watch your mouth, arm candy.” the brunette cooed. “Or I’ll stuff it full of mud before I wash it out with so--”
CRAAACK!
Sammi slapped her across the mouth, then snatched a wrist and took a giant step backward just so she could twissssssssst Collins’s arm in a wide circle. Stock stamped her feet at the end of the first rotation, spun through another and pushed up on Harley Jo’s arm until the Tennessee Terror doubled over to relieve some of the pressure. “Don’t you dare threaten that Jerry Springer shyt with me!” the blonde commanded in the midst of wrenching her foe’s wrist. “I’ve won house championships at the most prestigious casinos on the planet, I’m not about to let you sully my good name by losing in this glorified flea markEEEERRRRHHHHHH!”
Harley Jo curled her free hand into a claw and jammed her thumb into the challenger’s navel. Not a fight ender this early of course, but it kept Stock quiet as she endured the five-pointed belly burn. “Funny hearin’ you talk about you name like it actually means something.” Collins murmured as she continued to tenderize Stock’s tummy. “Ain’t nobody in FAWN doesn’t know you got it and everything else you own from that decrepit husband of OOOOOOFFFFHHH!”
Sammi halved the Arm Wringer so she could snatch a handful of hair, which she then used to hold the brunette steady for a heavy Kneelift THUMPED against Collins’s ribs. HJC shuffled away or at least tried to, she made it all of half a step before Stock doubled down on the hair-hold and drilled a quick Kneelift into the side of her skull. That put Harley Jo up on her heels, at least until Sammi whipped around, helped herself to a Three Quarters Facelock and flipped the taller woman onto her tush with a textbook Snapmare! Using a handful of hair to help keep Collins under control, Stock reared back with her free hand, then clamped down on the vulnerable meat between her rival’s neck and left right shoulder. Harley Jo grimaced, reached for the blonde’s hands but Sammi shifted her positioning and pushed down even harder, forcing the IC champ to stretch out on her left side.
“Oh yeah, I’m supposed to be scared of your claws, isn’t that right?” Stock teased. “Well guess what, honey? I’m not! Well, that’s not true. I’d hate to get an infection from any of that grime and filth you’ve got caked under therOOOOOWWW TRAMP!”
The Witch of Razorback Holler paid back like with like, in this case a monstrous hank of hair that had Sammi’s eyes watering in pain and anger.
“Enjoy this while it lasts, sweetheart.” Collins grunted. “Because I’ll have you’ll covered in grime and filth before this match is ovGUUURRRHHK!” The Salacious Showgirl relinquished her Nerve Claw in favor of what at first looked to be a thumbs up directed at the nearest FAWNatics. Unfortunately for Harley Jo this was not the case, as she promptly discovered when Stock jammed the tip of her thumb into the hollow of the brunette’s throat, then cinched her left arm around that wrist and reefed back as hard as she could!
GOLDEN SPIKE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=fNRyTGwdT_c
Golden Spike planted deep, Sammi jostled the hold for several painful, gurgling seconds, then looked around until she spied Craig Long. “Get over here, idiot!” she demanded. “This slut is going to submit at any second!”
Craig doubted that very much, but he made his way over to the action and asked, “What do you say, Harl? Need me to--” Collins steadied herself just long enough to raise a middle finger inches from the ref’s nose. “That settles that.” Long muttered.
“The hell it does!” Stock yoked up on the Spike, drawing an unpleasant gurgle from the champion. “If she doesn’t want to tap out I’ll leave little Miss Piggy here facedown and drooling in the diRRROOOOOOWWW! HAIR! HAIR!”
Harley Jo did indeed have a double handful of hair, which she used to clamber to one knee. Craig tried to explain that disqualifications were nonexistent in the Perilous Pumpkin Patch of Pain, however his words fell on deaf ears because Stock was too busy trying to maintain the Golden Spike and Collins was focused on regaining her feet, or possibly just removing a great patch of the challenger’s scalp. Ultimately both wrestlers were successful (well, except for the scalping part) but neither condition lasted very long because the Vicious Volunteer immediately looped an arm around the back of Sammi’s head and dropped to one knee, all the better to THUMP the blonde’s chin with a makeshift Jawbreaker!
The counter broke Sammi’s grasp but didn’t take her down, she simply reeled on the spot, arms windmilling in an effort to steady her balance. She’d just about done so when Collins reached up, grabbed hold of her hair and pulled the reeling blonde down gut-first atop her right shoulder. Hands knotted snug against the small of the challenger’s back, Harley Jo got to her feet and turned in a circle so the audience could get a good glimpse of Sammi’s predicament. “Pretty good at the tough talk when you’re all spit polished and shining. Lets see how it goes once you’ve been rolled in the dirt a bit.”
OVER THE SHOULDER GUTBUSTER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=GfgR_d6AZIY
With that Collins kicked her feet back and dropped to her knees, all the better to THWHUMP Sammi’s tummy into the point of her shoulder. Stock flipped off the champion’s lanky frame and landed hard on one side only for HJC to stretch her out flat on her back so she could slide in for a Crossbody good for the…
ONE…
TWO…
Sammi yanked her leg free of the champ’s clutches and rolled onto her side with a full second to spare. “Ohhh, you’re going to regret that, bytch.” the blonde huffed as she maneuvered to a seat. “My dry cleaning bills are coming out of the loser’s pursUUUUGGGGGGGHHHH!”
Collins wasn’t the first word in Technical Wrestling, but the big brunette had a far better ground game than most fans (or foes) seemed to realize, as Stock was forcibly reminded when the champion slid in from behind and cinched both legs around her waist. Hands braced against the well-packed dirt, Harley Jo squeeeeeeeeeeeezed for several seconds before alternating future constrictions with occasional hip thrusts. “Damn girl, that purse is going to be pretty small if you spend it all on getting yourself cleaned up. Might have to go to Tex and ask for an advance on your allowNGH! NGH! EERRRRGGGGHHH!”
Never one to take an opponent’s trash talk in silence, Sammi pounded a pair of stereo elbows into Collins’s thighs, then clasped her hands and began grinding against the sides of those encroaching knees in an effort to loosen the Scissors. “Allowances are for toddlers and welfare leeches like you.” Stock sneered. “But if you must know I’m sure my doting husband will treat us to a week in Ibiza if I make your skinny ass beg for mercy in front of the whole OOOOOOOWWWW BYTCH!”
The Vicious Volunteer wasn’t one to tolerate much back-sass either, which was why she wrapped her arms around Sammi’s torso, crossed her hands in an ill-intentioned ‘X’ and dug into the blonde’s breasts! “That’s right darlin’, I’m the meanest bytch you’ve ever met in your goddamned life, so maybe you wanna remember that and give up before I decide to drag your sniveling face along every rough surface I can NNNNGGGGHHHH!”
Stock snapped her head back, catching the brunette between the eyes with the base of her skull. It put an end to the Claws and loosened the Scissors, but rather than power her way free Sammi pressed down on the champ’s knees and got her own knees under her so she could slooooooooooowly turn to face her attacker. “I can’t believe it, you’re even less impressive up close.” she sneered. “How you EVER got your grubby little hands on the Intercontinental Title is beyond AAARRRRHHHH!”
Harley Jo replied with a retaliatory Headbutt to the bridge of the nose, then tacked on a mean-spirited Iron Claw that mashed the palm of her hand against the challenger’s already stinging nose. “Something tells me there’s a great deal in this world that’s beyond you, Sammi.” the Tennessee Terror chided as she dug her nails into Stock’s hairline. “The Intercontinental Title is just the lateSSUUUUUGGGGGHHHH!” Sammi earned an ‘oooohhhhh’ and a grudging round of applause from the FAWNatics when she escalated hostilities with a Bear Hug that glued both women together in a furious tummy-on-tummy clinch!
Well aware that there were no less than three submissions in play at the moment, Craig moved as close to the action as he dared before asking, “How you ladies doing? Do you need me to call for the--” Their replies weren’t identical (Harley’s used f*ck as a noun, Sammi’s made it a verb) but the spirit was identical so the referee cleared off without another word.
“Give it up, Stock.” Collins demanded a few seconds later. “While you can still walk out of here. Because if you pass out I’m not letting you leave until Gladiatrix has had it’s filWHOOOAAAH DAMMIT!”
Credit the power of one Sammi Stock as she got to her feet despite the noticeable handicap of Iron Claw and Bodyscissors. Anything like a cogent verbal response was out of the question thanks to those agonizing holds, yet the Salacious Showgirl managed to speak volumes when she stamped in a half circle and broke into a shambling run! In truth she’d been aiming for wall of hay bales, but her aim was off by almost a full ninety degrees. Their actual destination proved even more effective, as she SLAMMED the small of Harley Jo’s back into the edge of the counter that ran along the front of that ancient produce stand!
The Iron Claw disintegrated on impact, but damned if Collins didn’t boost her way onto the counter so she could administer another rib-crunching squeeze! “Good show, arm candy. Just not good enough to get it done out EERRRHH NNNNNGGGGHHHH!”
Stock tore her off the counter, backed off a few steps and TWHUNKED Harley Jo’s vulnerable back for the second time in less than a minute. This finally proved a death-knell for the Scissors, which popped open in time with a great rasping inhalation from the challenger. There was no time to celebrate though, as Stock muscled the Vicious Volunteer onto the counter and slammed her forehead into Collins’s chest. Prizing herself away from Harley Jo like an inmate tearing free of a straightjacket, Sammi celebrated her freedom with a CRAAACKING backhand and a double handful of dark hair.
“You disgusting slob! How dare you treat me so poorly!” Stock dimmed the brunette’s lights with another stiff Headbutt, then halved her hair-hold so she could muscle Collins’s legs onto the counter. For a moment she was sorely tempted to just dump the other woman off the far end and be done with it, instead she maneuvered the taller grappler so she was parallel to the counter and stretched her out flat, all the better to wrap both hands around HJC’s throat. Harley’s eyes went wide and she immediately buried a hand in the blonde’s hair in an effort to tear her way free of the stranglehold. But Stock was not to be denied after such prolonged suffering in the dirt so she yanked Collins’s head up and BWUNKED it against the splintering wood not once, not twice, but half a dozen times!
“Yeah, that’s right! Get your filthy hands off me!” the Salacious Showgirl cackled even as she braved tetanus, cholera and lord knew what else as she mounted the counter to straddle the champion’s waist. Delighted to finish this disgusting miscreant with the same move that’d made her the most feared name on the Vegas Strip for more than a decade, Stock only pulled her eyes away from Harley Jo’s to bark, “GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE, REF! SHE’S PASSED OUT!”
Collins’s kicking feet and clawing hands told Craig that this was patently untrue, yet he hurried over to the action and said, “All right Sammi let--”
“Ring the bell, idiot! Can’t you see she’s unconscious?!”
“Sammi, she’s raking your shoulders right now, that’s not muscle memory!”
Stock rolled her eyes, then replied like she was dealing with a particularly dense child. “Fine, she’s not unconscious. But her shoulders are down! Count!”
“Get your hands off her throat and I will!” Stock sighed in disgust, but did as bade if only to stake claim to the flailing brunette’s wrists. Pinning them high overhead, she hopped forward and came down with the fork of her crotch nice n’ snug atop the IC champ’s features. Craig swung around in front of his charges to confirm the cover, then pounded the counter…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOOO!
Harley Jo kicked her legs up, hooked them under Stock’s armpits and tugged her backward for what would’ve been a Sunset Flip if the blonde hadn’t somersaulted off the edge of the counter! A cheer rose from the crowd only to die just as quickly because the gold-clad blonde landed on one knee and returned to verticality without missing a beat. “Not going to be that easy, bumpkin!” Stock grabbed hold of Harley Jo’s ankles and yanked her across the counter so she could cinch her arms around her knees. “You wanted to fight in this nauseating hellhole? Well you’re going to get your wish!”
With that she tore Collins away from her splintery perch and twisted to one side so the big brunette landed awkwardly on the back of her head and shoulders. Stunned in the aftermath of that unpleasant drop, Harley Jo nevertheless found the energy to reach up, presumably to rake her attacker’s thigh or possibly grab onto her waistband. Whatever the intent, it all came to naught when Sammi hoisted her off the dirt and swung in a nasty half circle that THWHACKED the IC champion against the weather beaten front of that damnable produce stand! The FAWNatics groaned in sympathy as Collins tried to protect her head and shoulder, then they just groaned when Stock swung the big brunette back the way she’d came to treat her other shoulder to the same splintering treatment!
PRODUCE STAND PUMMELING:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=9xNYL3yfxpE
Knowing damned well that the Salacious Showgirl wasn’t going to stop anytime soon (because she’d have done the same were their positions reversed) HJC swaddled her head in both arms and clenched her jaw tight while Sammi THWHACKED her against the makeshift barricade no less than half a dozen times. Stock’s final swing ended at the halfway point, not to say that she slung Collins away, as nothing was further from the truth. Rather she let the battered brunette skid into the dirt, then folded Harley Jo’s legs up over her head and dropped down into a snug seat atop her opponent’s upturned thighs. A technically perfect of the Alligator Clutch to be sure, though Stock made sure to put her own tawdry stamp on it by running both hands through her hair while the ref counted…
ALLIGATOR CLUTCH:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=n1_hyqoFGwU
ONE…
TWO…
Collins powered free just after ‘TWO!’ sending the blonde sprawling forward onto her hands and knees.
“Come on!” Stock hurried to boot-leather and stomped over to Craig Long, swatting the back of one hand into her palm as she did so. “ONE! TWO! THREE! It’s over, that belt belongs to me!”
“Only when I make the three count, Sammi.” Long replied. “You want the belt? Finish her off.”
“I’ll do more than that.” the blonde sniffed. “I’ll make sure she never shows her face on a FAWN show again!”
Circling back to her recovering adversary, Stock made a point of rubbing her dusty hands in Harley Jo’s face before she hauled her up with a double handful of hair. An arm between the legs allowed Sammi to scoop her burden up onto one shoulder and walk her back into the shadow of the produce stand. The Body Slam that followed left Collins starfished in the dirt, thus giving the challenger all the time she needed to climb her way onto the counter. Hands on her hips, Stock perused her surroundings before training a disappointed eye on the flattened brunette. “It’s not the Bellagio, but it’s not the WORST place to humiliate a piece of piece of backwoods garbage.” With that she leapt off the counter and kicked both legs forward, the gammy gold digger bringing down hear near one hundred and forty pounds down across Harley’s clavicle courtesy of a big Leg Drop. Collins’s stems kicked up with the force of the landing so Stock hooked the near one in a Half Matchbook and drew it tight while Craig counted off…
DIVING LEG DROP:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=MbIBb6mVT1M
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOOO!
The Vicious Volunteer demonstrated some of the resilience that’d let her withstand the onslaught of Hot & Bothered by kicking free of Stock’s grip with half a second to spare.
Increasingly irritated with every new near fall, Sammi hurried to her feet and proceeded to stamp away at Harley’s tummy and chest until the lanky battler managed to roll onto her hands and knees. “Oh, so you’re still trying to play tough, are you?” Stock slapped the back of Collins’s noggin half a dozen times before she grabbed some hair. “Let’s how tough you are when you can’t even breathe.”
Harley started to reply, but Sammi hit her with a quick Hip Check to the mush, then hauled her up and muscled her across blonde shoulders in a Fireman’s Carry. “Take a good look at this, you redneck reprobates!” Sammi demanded of the crowd as she turned in a slow circle. “This is what ALWAYS happens when trash comes up against clasSSEEERRRROOOOWWWWW!”
The Tennessee Terror jabbed the point of one elbow into the side of Stock’s head, then tacked on a long, mean-spirited rake of the challenger’s eyes! Vision reduced to seasonal fall sworls, Sammi forgot all about the Boop-A-Doop, in fact she barely registered the change in pressure when Collins slithered off her shoulders. Understanding returned once HJC clamped down on a wrist and swung her in a looping arc all the better to hurl the challenger at--NO! Stock dug her heels in, grabbed a Wristlock of her own and flung Collins at a low ‘wall’ of hay bales that had to be twenty feet long and ten feet high.
Far more concerned by her blurred vision than the brunette’s trajectory, Sammi turned away to rub at bleary eyes and didn’t look up until a cheer from the assembled losers told her something was amiss. Sure enough she was greeted by the sight of Harley Jo Collins hoisting the jack ‘o lantern she’d almost knocked from its perch in her collision with the hay. “That thing’s not gonna help you keep the title.” Sammi sniffed. “It doesn’t even have a manager’s license.”
“Real bad luck to blow out a jack ‘o lantern too soon on Halloween night, darlin’.” Harley said softly. “All sorts of bad things can happen to people that don’t respect the old ways.”
“Oh puuuuhleeeeeeeeeaasse!” Stock sneered. “The only tradition you need to worry about is how badly am I going to beat your ass whenever a major holiday rolls aroWHOOAAH!”
Collins hurled her prize Headless Horseman style, the heavy gourd-inance flying straight at Sammi’s midr--’OOOOOOOHHHHH!’
Sammi earned a round of impressed albeit grudging applause for catching the jack ‘o lantern like it was the world’s spookiest medicine ball! Too disgusted to consider returning the affront in kind, the Salacious Showgirl spat, “Did you just… throw a pumpkin at NNNNNNGGGGGHH!” Harley Jo charged, whipped her right leg up and damn near kicked Stock’s head deep into the Pumpkin Patch with a hellacious Big Boot!
BIG BOOT:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=87emoSVadZo
“As I was sayin’,” Collins drawled after she’d handled the well traveled jack ‘o lantern off to Craig Long, “All sorts of bad things can happen to a body that doesn’t respect traditions.”
Sammi offered no response to that, so the champ helped herself to some blonde locks and scraped her out of the dirt. More than a little irked by the way she’d let the gold digger tee off on her for the last few minutes, Harley muscled Stock onto her shoulder like she was setting for another Gutbuster, however instead of dropping to her knees she wheeled around and took off toward the wall of baled hay! There was a scratchy sort of THWHUMP when Collins slammed her opponent’s back against the bales followed by a much heavier THUD after she spun around and planted Sammi flat on her back with a farm fresh twist on the Oklahoma Stampede!
OKLAHOMA STAMPEDE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=nLPP5Bxnh6c
Stock sat up, then tumbled onto one side, the woozy blonde trying to keep off her back in case the champ went for a pin. Turned out she was safe for the moment because Collins got to her feet without even considering a cover. Instead she walked back to hay wall, reached up and managed to pull down a single bale. “Harley, I don’t mean to spoil your fun, but there’s no way you’re gonna be able to swing that-- oh, you’re not swinging it. Carry on.” Long took a step back once Harley Jo turned the bale and set it on its narrow side.
Satisfied with this arrangement, the Witch of Razorback Holler returned her attention to Sammi Stock, though she spared the official a knowing look as she strode by. “Interested in placing a wager on just how many ways I can use that thing as a weapon?”
“No ma’am, I like my money.”
Harley smirked as she leaned over and cupped Stock’s ears. “Bless your heart, don’t you like tired? I’m almost sorry to tell you we’re not quite done yet.”
Sammi answered with something rude involving the champ’s lineage and followed it with a few punches to the belly, alas she was still woozy following Harley Jo’s hellacious hay ride and she earned nothing more than a Kneelift between the eyes for her efforts. Thus allowed to hoist her burden in peace, Collins muscled Stock to boot leather, then dropped a shoulder and muscled the leggy blonde into a Fireman’s Carry. This brought several cheers and a cry of ‘Airplane Spin!’ from some of those assembled FAWNatics, but HJC shook her head ‘no’ as she closed in on the recently rearranged bale of hay.
“Spinning a girl on ground like this is just askin’ for a twisted ankle.” she explained. “Don’t worry none, I got something in mind that you’re going to EEEERRRRHHHHH!” Stock snatched a handful of the big brunette’s hair and yanked hard enough to make her eyes water. “Put me down you inbred piece of trash!” the Salacious Showgirl demanded. “Right this instant or I’ll make sure Tex buys and paves over your precious hollOOOOFFFFFFHHH!”
Collins pushed Stock off her shoulders as she rose up on tiptoe, then dropped to one knee to THWHUMP the challenger’s toned tummy across her posted thigh. The Gutbuster nearly folded Sammi in half and surely would’ve left her writhing in the dirt if Collins hadn’t resumed her hooks and hauled Stock back into the Fireman’s Carry. “As I was saying before that thoughtless interruption,” Harley Jo was in front of the upended hay brick after a few long strides, “I’ve got something in mind that I think you’ll appreciate.” The crowd knew better than to doubt the imagination of the Vicious Volunteer, so they stayed quiet until Collins braced a hand at sternum and thigh and lifted Sammi into the purpling sky with a gorgeous Military Press! This show of strength raised the kind of applause Harley Jo would’ve expected, but it didn’t really grow raucous until she tossed Stock into a short, unpleasant freefall that ended with her THWHUMPING down gut-first atop the baled hay!
Folded in half around Harley’s autumnal arsenal, Stock slid off one side, hit the ground with a soft thud and flopped onto her back with both arms crisscrossed over her hitching be-- Collins dropped to her knees, cinched her arms around Sammi’s knees and folded her in half with a Back Press good for…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOOO!
Stock kicked out, ending Craig’s count half a heartbeat shy of ‘THREE!’ HJC sat up, started to double check the count, then decided to bury that hand in Sammi’s hair instead. “You been a damned fine sport about fightin’ out of doors. Can’t say I was expecting that from an entitled stick of arm candy such as yourself, but it’s a pleasant surprise nonetheless.” the Tennessee Terror told her gagging opposition as she returned the both of ‘em to verticality, then set off for the muddy patch that made up the southern side of the Perilous Pumpkin Patch of Pain.
Drawing up on the far side of the muck so as to offer those in the bleachers the best possible view, Harley Jo wedged a knee into Stock’s gut and reeled her into a Standing Headscissors. “In fact darlin’, you’ve been such a good sport that I think it only fair to reward you with some of that high class mud wrestlin’ you were harping on about earlier. How’s that sound?”
Sammi’s only answer was a low gurgle, the FAWNatics on the other hand offered up the most spirited of cheers, especially when Collins slipped her hands under Stock’s biceps and jerked them up over her torso in a Double UnderhoNO! Sammi spun out of the brunette’s trap before Harley Jo could lock her hands. Posted up on her foe’s left, Stock grabbed that wrist and slung HJC’s arm across her shoulders just prior to snugging her arms around Collins’s waist. Just like that she popped her hips and took Harley Jo up, over and down, the IC Champ SPLAT-THWHAPPED onto the back of her head and shoulders with a flawless Saito Suplex! Sammi maintained her bridge despite the uneven ground so the ref swooped in beside the action and counted off…
SAITO SUPLEX:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=wApOoxW-DXY
ONE…
TWO…
THRENOOOOOOOO!
Cheers from the bleacher folks and a shriek of disgust from the challenger when Collins slid-slorped onto her side at the last possible second. Horrified by the fate she’d so narrowly escaped, Stock clambered to her feet and drove a hard stomp into Harley Jo’s ribs. “Yuuuhhh… you were going to deposit ME in this… this… this FILTH? You hateful bumpkin, the mud used in the Vegas pits is straight from the greatest spas in the world! Even a loser who gets her ass beat the whole night will at least, at LEAST emerge with a glowing complexion. But this, THIS is probably nothing more than castoff hog slop, redneck sweat and lord knows what else!”
Sammi took a deep breath, almost ran a hand through her hair before she realized it was slick with the disgusting glop. “Actually…” she said with a slow, calculating smile. “This is the only place suitable of finishing off a pig like you.”
More than happy to twine her mud-slimed hands into Harley Jo’s hair, Sammi scraped the Witch of Razorback Holler off the ground only to double her over with a Toe Kick that pointed her rump straight at the fans. From there she wedged Collins’s noggin between her thighs and set about teasing the morons with a tawdry little bump n’ grind administered to the back of her foe’s neck. It earned several keening wolf whistles and a scattered round of applause that got even louder when she hooked HJC’s briefs in one hand and yanked ‘em up several inches higher. Stock beamed at her newfound supporters, raised both hands to blow them a kiss, then turned it into identical middle fingers instead. “As if I need anything from you!” she sneered to the now jeering throng. “You belong down in the slop with this pig and if you don’t back the hell up I might just slam bury you alongside WHOOOOAAAAAAAUUUUGGGGGHHHH!”
Harley Jo straightened up like a cottonmouth strikes, which is to say, fast and with no warning whatsoever. Unprepared for this abrupt shift, Stock was flung over the champion’s head to THAWHAP down flat on her back! Eyes wide with shock and disgust in the wake of this most unfortunate turn, Sammi wailed like a klaxon siren as she scrambled to her feet and made a mad lunge for the recovering brune--“OOOFFFH!” Collins folded the Salacious Showgirl over with a Toe Kick of her own and immediately transitioned to a Standing Headscissors. Locking her arms around Stock’s midriff, she flipped the big blonde upside down and held her there just long enough to let Sammi and the audience think about what came next. Then she dropped onto her butt and SPLU-THWHUNKED the crown of Stock’s noggin into the mat with a huge Piledriver!
PILEDRIVER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mbv785KL2Ss
Sammi bounced from the landing to wind up in another muddy sprawl, only this time there was no scrambling return to her feet because Harley Jo swung one long leg over and sat down hard on the blonde’s modest bosom. “Urrrhhhh… guuuuhhhh… get offa meAAAAAARRRRRRHHHHHHH!”
Sammi’s soft protestations grew into an ear-rending shriek once the champ curled both hands into claws and dug them deep into the blonde’s defenseless belly!
Nodding in approval as Stock’s heels carved deep divots in the sludge, Harley Jo went to work with both thumbs like she meant to gouge right on through the challenger’s navel. “You’re not soundin’ too good, darlin’.” Collins purred over Stock’s wails. “Too bad we don’t have any of that fancy west coast mineral mud you were talking about earlier. Maybe you’d be doin’ a little bett--”
Sammi slapped at the brunette’s flank, then the mud as she wailed, “I SUBMIT! I SUBMIT! NOW GET YOUR FILTHY HANDS OFFA MEEEEOOOOOHHHHH STAAAAAAAAAAHHHHP!”
Harley Jo leaaaaaaaaned into her grip as the bell sounded and added a few mean little bounces to emphasize the Announcer’s confirmation. “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner via submission and STILL the FAWN Intercontinental Champion… HARLEY JO COLLINS!”
The victorious Witch got to her feet, but rather than accept the strap from Craig Long she stomped over to the line of jack o’ lanterns that ringed the far edge of the mud patch and picked the creepiest one she could find. Thusly satisfied, she strode back to Sammi and set the heavy gourd on her stomach. This delighted the crowd, as did the boot Collins placed atop it when she finally hoisted the IC belt overhead. “From the ring to the penthouse, from the back alley to the pumpkin patch, you ladies have a favorite place to get your asses whooped? Just lemme know and I’ll make it happen.”